#she wants control of all of Fodlan and push her own ideas on the rest | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

butwhatifidothis · 2 years

Note

This is a question I've always wanted to ask: as someone who's on team Rhea, Dimitri and Claude, why do we continue to engage in a fight with the Edelstans? We know they're not going to listen to us and are going to keep pushing a false misconcieved narrative (esp Cap). Unless they actively harrass us via tumblr or whatever, should we just let them be and believe in their own ignorant fantasy?

Well, if you're asking me personally, I'll be honest and say that the original purpose of this blog was literally to have a place to rant and vent about my grievances with the fandom. The misconceptions and weird amount of hate surrounding Rhea - which are still very prevalent - the bad-faith takes about her, Dimitri, and Claude, the justifications made for Edelgard and the attempts of the overall fandom to try and make her out to be way less bad than she actually is - and the pushback brought on those who like, dare to publicly disagree with that notion - I just wanted a place to air out my increasing annoyance at the fandom's behavior.

But then at some point my posts got a bit more noticed, and I came across more and more people who were similarly unhappy with the state of the fandom. I've had a good few people - on and off anon - who've come to me and said that my posts and analysis and meta were all really appreciated by them. There's a lot of people who also don't like how the fandom is, and I found that many just like knowing that there are people who don't follow the bandwagons of "Rhea's actually the worst thing ever" or "Edelgard's the real hero of 3H" or "Everyone's at fault for the war happening."

Like, you know how many people still say stuff like "the game is so sad, but it's 'such a nice showcasing' of how not communicating with each other can lead to horrible things happening"? Who believe nothing would have happened if the three lords "just talked!!"? As if Edelgard would have listened to people she wants killed because they stand in the way of her dreams of "complete Imperial control of Fodlan"? Or that "who cares who's the worst of them, they're ALL war criminals!!" As if, say, Claude is anywhere near comparable to Edelgard in the war crimes they commit? There's a lot of people that don't like being told that these blatantly false or misleading ideas are what the game is totally saying is right, and seeing people publicly debunk these ideas can be pretty relieving, going from what the people who've come to me tell me.

Letting Edelstans live in their own ignorant fantasy would be completely fine, if that fantasy didn't ruin so many people's experiences with the game and if these people didn't constantly drag down people who don't agree with them. Like, to give an example for the former, I love reading fanfiction. Have been loving it since I was a wee teen. If I want to read stories about Rhea? I slap my hands together and pray that I can find something that doesn't shit all over her, and then be let down almost immediately, because the world of 3H fanfiction haaaaaaaates Rhea. So often she's made out to be a comically evil, non-nuanced villain who eats babies and punts orphans off of cliffs and deserves no love whatsoever. And would you look at that, a lot of that has to do with many of the misconceptions Edelstans parrot around like their lives depend on it. Rhea is a tyrant who controls all of Fodlan!! She doesn't care about humans!! She'd never give up power!! She'd never let reform happen!! The Church of Seiros is evil and must be taken down for the good of Fodlan!!

How does anyone think a fan of Rhea - you know, someone who knows that all of this isn't true at all - is going to like the fandom when this is the most popular interpretation of their fave (or someone they otherwise like a lot)? And it's become like this because the fantasy land Edelstans live in has more than bled over into the rest of the fandom. It's well-past the point of letting them be self-contained and do their own thing, because they themselves aren't keeping to themselves. They made their takes and meta so popular it's basically the default opinion to have in the fandom. They get mad about their behavior being particularly called out, meanwhile they get so many of their takes be accepted as True Canon.

So like, it's less me trying to "reform Edelstans," and more about me keeping this blog to be a place that debunks their shitty takes and meta, now for others to enjoy and find some relief with. You'll notice that I don't tend to directly respond to these people, mostly because I don't see much point to it. Even with Cap'n, I never talk to him directly, I don't barrage his fic with mean comments, I don't do anything except critique his fic in my own space. I'm more here to rant and vent - and now let others rant and vent - about what's annoying (sometimes even harmful) about the fandom. Hope that answers your question!

#ask #anon #exqueuese me princess #there's also the fact that discussing their takes has people on the outside realize how much of what they say just ain't true #like it's kinda unbelievable just HOW MUCH parts of the fandom take to be true comes from Edelstan takes that are riddled with inaccuracies #so pointing out those inaccuracies using the game's text and the developers' words help clear them up for others #to be clear though - I'm not dissing anyone who (respectfully) directly debate with anyone! I just personally don't do it often #and hope I wasn't too rude answering you nonnie!!

58 notes · View notes

umbralstars · 3 years

Text

Alright now that I've talked a bit about his province it's time to talk about the man himself. We should all be aware of the few bits of canon info we got about Rufus, but here's my own general thoughts about his character and the relationships he has with his family.

Rufus is 13 years older than Lambert and wasn't exactly thrilled when his parents decided to make Lambert heir instead because of him possessing a crest while Rufus didn't. Rufus understands logically why Crests are useful for rulers to have (the legitimacy they offer along with a powerful Relic if a ruler needs to defend the state is useful and he won't deny that) but doesn't believe a Crest necessarily makes one automatically a good ruler. Recognizing early on the faults in Faerghus' system of governance, and feeling like he has something to prove, Rufus was hell bent on leaving his mark on Faerghus whether he's king or not.

Rufus is actually an incredibly intelligent politician who studied not only the governing systems of old, but also tried to learn as much as he could about foreign governments so he could reform Faerghus. He's been reform minded since he was a teenager. Even spent a good portion of Lambert's formative years impressing his ideas onto his younger brother, until Lambert knew enough to start coming up with his own ideas and debating solutions with Rufus. While the brothers were never the closest, Rufus implicitly trusted Lambert because his brother was just willing to trust and listen to him and that meant a lot to Rufus. He did more than his fair share of criticizing his younger brother, but at least he knew Lambert could find appreciation in that.

As Grand Duke of Itha, Rufus had a certain view on wealth and how a government should be structured.

He firmly believes that wealth should be used to glorify the state through great public works and that a well educated populace along with a well fed and protected populace led to the greatest societies. He still lived large and made it known, but he had a more patriotic attitude towards his wealth and believed he had a moral obligation to spend it on Faerghus' greatness. Under his rule, Castell Itha went from a cultural backwater in Faerghus to having one of the largest public libraries (something that would be replicated in Fhirdiad with Lambert turning the Fhirdiad College of Sorcery's library into a royal one open to the public) in Fodlan and having better urban planning than many cities in the Empire. He personally encouraged the creation of great works of art, poetry, and new magical techniques all for the good of Faerghus. He believed that Faerghus could be a cultural powerhouse and he was going to make it so by Sothis.

Rufus' aspirations weren't just limited to Itha either as he was of the opinion that Faerghus' incredibly decentralized governance style was holding the Kingdom back from greatness. Ever since Loog, the Kingdom had been an almost confederation of various states who paid homage to House Blaiddyd and the royal court but devolved so much power on internal matters they were functionally independent. The Kingdom's codes of chivalry were mostly developed and lauded by the crown as a way to retain some centralized authority and respect, but the various states in Faerghus could pretty much beef with each other as they pleased. Nowhere worse was this problem than in the northern reaches of Faerghus. Because much of the north has sided with Loog there was never any consolidation, so the north was made up of hundreds of duchies, counties, baronies, etc that could give the Holy Roman Empire a run for its money.

Rufus saw all of this as a blight on the Kingdom and made it his life's mission to fix it when he became Grand Duke. Lambert and him were working towards a goal of essentially a federalized monarchy with a strong centralized government. It's the entire reason he started to consolidate power and take out anyone who dared to get in his way. He also has a very 'my way or the highway' outlook on the other noble houses and wouldn't hesitate to screw them over if they don't fall into lines or prove to him that they're incapable of leadership.

Rufus can also be incredibly petty and spiteful if he feels he's been offended in some way. House Galatea is the big example of this. Galatea had been having financial problems for decades before hand, and the Count spurning Rufus on his betrothal request for peaceful inclusion in the Grand Duchy he considered a grave insult. Rufus didn't incite the rebellion as some claim but he did capitalize on it because he wanted to show how weak Galatea was and undermine the Count's authority. A more bloody example came when a smaller noble house in his domain tried to kill Rufus and his heir to take the riches for themselves. While they failed on both counts, Rufus decided to purge the entire family and their supporters with having the ringleaders tried and executed leaving the rest to flee for the Alliance.

The only House he begrudgingly respects is House Fraldarius because he does consider Rodrigue to be a capable leader and they do somewhat get along. They encountered each other a lot and, while Rogrigue is critical of Rufus' certain proclivities, they were able to be amicable to one another. He dislikes how many nobles fled to House Fraldarius due to the perceived aggression on the Grand Duchy's part. But for him, as long as Rodrigue was on Lambert's side with the reform measures he can share power in the north. He and Margrave Gautier have always disliked each other for numerous reasons, but the two don't clash over territory so they can tolerate each other's presence.

Rufus is also a mixed bag of being extremely charismatic, but pretty much only becomes so to woo people or get what he wants. In all other aspects of his life Rufus was domineering and stubborn with his beliefs and in his social life. He was and still is extremely piss poor at handling emotions and this includes his own. He could also be cold and ruthless when it came to pursuing his goals and was willing to do shitty things to get results.

Speaking of doing shitty things yes the man is a prolific womanizer, and every single relationship he has with the women in his life and his children is unique. He does frequent brothels and has done so since he was in his late teens. He courts heiresses to incorporate their houses into his territory or for purely political gain. Many of the children he has had may very not consider him a father at all simply because he's never been in their lives for whatever reason. At bare minimum he makes sure his mistresses and his bastards have at least a comfortable living situation, but that's about it. Rufus is obviously not incapable of loving people or considering his children family, he just doesn't a lot of the time while he never wishes ill upon them. There are a few instances where this was not the case and he was much closer to his mistresses and children, but they were honestly few and far between.

Since I mentioned his family other than Lambert and Dimitri it’s OC time.

Rufus and Emyr

Darya Artemi was probably one of the few women Rufus ever truly fell and love with. He initially approached her in the same way he had heiresses in the past with just intentions of courting her along with her soon to be lands, but somewhere along the line he genuinely did fall for her. When Emyr was born and it was discovered he had a Major Crest Rufus jumped on the opportunity to make him the heir. They never did legally marry, but she was Duchess Consort in everything but legality. Darya was mostly fine with having an open relationship with Rufus as long as he was around for her and their children.

Rufus as a parent is just as domineering as in every other aspect of his life. He could be caring but extremely strict as well and pushed for perfection in everything Emyr did. He wanted his son to be the perfect heir for the province he was building, and be like him in many aspects. Emyr did love his father and wanted to live up to every expectation.

When Darya died, Rufus experienced one of the first major depressive episodes in his life. He pulled away from his children, threw himself into work and all of his vices, and became even harder on Emyr than he was previously. If her death wasn't enough, some of his mistresses felt an opportunity to get ahead and tried to fill the void or even remove Emyr on a few occasions. The houses never really leveled out again and both Emyr and Rufus clung to the perceived stability they had before Darya's death to their relationship's detriment. They never could come close to breaching those vulnerable waters.

When Emyr ran away with Katya, it came after years of strife between him and his father that did permanently damage their relationship. Rufus was devastated when he lost Emyr and Katya along with a good portion of his family. He grew even more depressed, lost control of the court entirely, and never could form anywhere close to a good relationship with his nephew. He lost a good number of relationships during the four years before his death in friends and family. He spent the last years of his life guilt ridden, dogged by horrible rumors, and trying to keep together a country which was begging to rip itself a part.

For Emyr's part, he never did wish for his father to die in the way he did. In some ways he did love Rufus even after everything. Emyr is like his father in many ways and terrified of becoming him in many others.

TL;DR: Rufus is complicated.

#fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fe3h oc #rufus blaiddyd #emyr artemi blaiddyd #fire emblem #rufus analysis #oh he is my beloathed #a good ruler until he lost control of everything #and pretty complicated personality wise #he's got his good and his bad parts #blaiddyd bastards #a lot of this IS for my own personal writing and so obviously a lot of it is very embellished #but feel free to take any aspect of this if it jives

12 notes · View notes

frozenartscapes · 4 years

Text

A continuation of part one. Edelgard begins to experience modern Fodlan, and has many questions.

-- -- --

So this...was a “car”?

Edelgard stared at the metal contraption before her, head tilted slightly to one side. “I don’t...understand,” she said after a moment, “Is it like a carriage?”

“Sort of,” Byleth replied, “Only it drives itself.”

Another head tilt, this time in the other direction. “How does it do that?”

“Uh... To be honest, explaining it simply would be a bit of a challenge. I’m not much of a mechanic,” Byleth said sheepishly.

“A...mechanic?”

“You know what? Why don’t we get going and I’ll start answering while we drive.”

Edelgard awkwardly settled into the passenger seat of Byleth’s car, her antiquated armour and battledress making things a little difficult. It took a few more minutes for Byleth to teach her about a seatbelt and why it was necessary.

“We never had such precautions when we rode horses. Or wyverns.”

“Yeah, but even wyverns don’t fly as fast as cars.”

Eventually they were off, and the ride was painfully silent. Though it wasn’t because of any kind of animosity. Edelgard was too busy staring out the windows, quietly gasping in amazement as they drove through the city toward Byleth’s downtown apartment.

“If we hadn’t met in the palace, I would never believe you if you told me this was Enbarr,” Edelgard said eventually, as they drove down the main boulevard that was lined with all kinds of high-end shops and restaurants. It was the end of the week, and the nightlife was only just ramping up. People from all backgrounds were flocking to various entertainment venues for a fun night out. It was a far cry from the Enbarr the Emperor had known.

“I guess it has changed quite a lot,” Byleth admitted as they pulled up to an intersection.

Edelgard frowned in confusion. “Why are we stopping?”

“Because the light’s red.”

Edelgard glanced up at the light in question. “So it is, but... It doesn’t appear that anyone else is moving through the intersection. Can we not go?”

“No. Because the light’s red.”

“I fail to see why a simple light would have such power.”

Byleth let out a tired sigh. “It’s just...how traffic works now. Trust me: if you saw this light during rush hour, you’d appreciate the control way more.”

“...Rush hour?”

The light mercifully turned green, and Byleth allowed the subject to drop. Edelgard was once again preoccupied with taking in the sights of the city, marvelling especially at the tall condo and office towers. That’s when Byleth remembered the radio.

“Hey, I have something to show you,” she said, reaching for the power button on the dashboard. The radio flicked to life, softly playing a talk show station Byleth had been listening to that morning.

Edelgard’s eyes lit up like a child seeing snow for the first time. “What is this?” she breathed, leaning in to better inspect the radio.

Byleth chuckled. “Try it out. This dial here tunes it, so you can switch between stations. And this one is for the volume. Careful with that one: it can get pretty loud in here. All the numbered buttons are stations I’ve saved.”

Edelgard tentatively turned the tuning dial, gasping in pleasant surprise when the radio switched to playing some classical music. Byleth couldn’t help but grin as she watched the fearsome Emperor messing about with a car radio, fully and un-ironically engrossed in the technology.

She spent the rest of the trip like that, and the way she struggled to hide her disappointment when the radio turned off with the car brought another grin to Byleth’s face. “Just wait until you discover the TV,” Byleth teased as she led the Emperor toward the elevator.

“I can tell you are clearly enjoying yourself,” Edelgard commented coolly, “I’m glad my curiosity is somewhat entertaining.”

“Sorry,” Byleth said gently, “I guess it’s just...strange. Seeing you like this.”

The elevator doors opened with a ding, catching her attention once more. “Doors that open on their own?” she wondered, “What sort of magic is at play here?”

“No magic, just...technology,” Byleth explained. She headed into the elevator, and Edelgard hesitantly followed. She pressed the button for her floor, and the doors closed. The elevator lurched - it always did, they really needed to fix that - and Edelgard latched onto her arm almost instinctively. A blush spread across the Emperor’s face, and she quickly stepped away in embarrassment.

“S...so...” she stammered, tucking one strand of hair behind her ear as she desperately avoided eye contact, “Why did we purposely trap ourselves in this tiny room? And why does it feel like it’s moving?”

“It’s an elevator. It’s taking us up to the floor my apartment’s on,” Byleth told her, “And before you ask: no, there’s no magic involved here, either. This one’s a giant metal cable attached to this box, and it’s pulled and lowered by a giant mechanism on the top of the building.”

“...And...how high up is this floor we’re going to?”

“It’s the fourteenth.”

“...I don’t know how high that actually is but you’re telling me the thing keeping this box from crashing to the ground below is one measly cable?”

“Well, technically the cable’s not measly. And there’s a failsafe installed in every elevator, making it impossible for them to fall, even if the cable breaks.”

Edelgard was staring at her like she had grown a second head.

“Ok, elevators freaked me out at first, too. But trust me: this totally beats taking the stairs.”

The elevator doors opened, and Byleth led the way to her apartment. Upon opening the door, they were met with a cozy space. A small hallway led down to the living room, the kitchen was just off to the left, a closet to the right. There were a few dishes left piled in the sink, some books left scattered around, clothes draped over the back of the couch.

“Heh, sorry,” Byleth said sheepishly, “I wasn’t expecting company.”

Edelgard glanced around at the strange new setting. Her eyes settled on the large windows in the living room, her feet taking her over without even realizing it. Byleth followed, watching closely. The Emperor gazed over her former home, seemingly sprawling in every direction as far as the eye could see. The sun had just set, with a few traces of twilight still in the inky sky. But the city had become alive in the darkness, millions of lights from windows and streets forming a completely new metropolis.

“The view’s even better from out here,” Byleth offered, sliding the balcony door open and gesturing out.

Edelgard seemed hesitant, but she wordlessly followed and stepped out onto the balcony, moving to the railing as she once more took in the sights with an unreadable expression. Eventually though, her eyes trained downward, and she realized just how tall fourteen floors really was. “Oh Goddess, we’re high,” she gasped backing as far from the railing as she could get.

Byleth chuckled. “Believe it or not, there’s still another ten floors to this building, too,” she said lightly.

“How were they able to construct a building so tall?” Edelgard demanded, “I don’t think even the tallest spire at Garreg Mach could reach this height.”

“No, it was...actually pretty short by today’s standards,” Byleth admitted, “They figured out how to build tall and skinny buildings by utilizing steel and concrete.” She paused. “Ok, I realize that probably doesn’t explain much. Just...just trust me: tall buildings like this are the norm now.”

“O...ok,” Edelgard stammered. Her eyes darted out to the view for a moment. “It...it is a nice view, but I think I’d like to go back inside now.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Byleth agreed, “Come on. I’ll show you the guest room.”

Byleth gave Edelgard a quick tour of the apartment, concluding in the second bedroom. Edelgard had been strangely quiet for the whole tour, and now stood awkwardly near the bed, glancing around the room with mild uncertainty. Byleth decided to give her a little space, so she headed out to the linen closet.

When she returned, Edelgard had taken a seat on the bed, and was staring down at her hands.

“Ok, so here are some towels. If you like, I can show you how to get a shower going. And I’ll grab some of my old clothes, too. If you’d like to change out of that dress,” Byleth stated, hoping her hospitality would help the Emperor adjust, “And are you hungry? I don’t really have a whole lot of food right now, but I can order something. Maybe some Almyran? Or Duscurian? Oh! I know a place that does really good Brigid-spiced chicken.”

Edelgard sighed, unable to meet Byleth’s eyes. “There are...many things I don’t understand,” she admitted, “I think...it’s all starting to hit me. But the strangest thing isn’t that I’ve been transported into the future.” She gulped nervously, and finally looked up. “It’s that you’ve been so kind to me.”

Something clamped around Byleth’s heart and refused to let go. She carefully headed over and took a seat on the bed next to the Emperor. “I’m...I’m sorry,” she said softly, “I suppose the change must feel quite sudden for you. But...I’ve had many years to think about what I did... How I treated you...”

“We were on opposing sides of a war. It seems like only a few hours ago I was waiting for your army to break down my door and for us to engage in our final battle,” Edelgard uttered, “It was, for me. I was prepared to die by your blade... And you were prepared to do it.”

Byleth grimaced. “I...did do it,” she confessed, running a hand through her hair to push her bangs out of her face, “I... Goddess, Edelgard, I... I split your skull open.”

“I suppose I should thank you for being quick about it,” Edelgard commented grimly, “I wonder if that’s why it seems I suddenly appeared here, as if nothing had happened.”

“You came here the moment you died...” Byleth muttered, “But...why?”

Edelgard frowned, clearly thinking about it. “I’m...not sure,” she eventually admitted, “This certainly wasn’t any trick of mine. By the time we fought, I just wanted to... Never mind.” She drew a deep breath, and Byleth could practically see her shoving those negative thoughts and emotions away. She cast Byleth a small smile, and said, “I’m just...glad it was you who found me, Professor.”

“I... Me too.” Byleth returned the smile with one of her own. She then got up, offering a hand to the Emperor. “Well, you probably want to get cleaned up. I’ll show you how to work the shower.”

“...Is there some sort of device that makes it rain indoors?”

“Well...sort of.”

-- -- --

“Ok, so you’ve got hot and cold water,” Byleth said, pointing to two nobs imbedded into the tiled wall, “You pull this little lever all the way up to turn on the shower. You kind of have to give it a good tug - it sticks sometimes.” She then motioned to the various bottles on the wall. “You can also use the shampoo and conditioner - make sure you use both, and in that order. I don’t know why, to be honest, that’s just how they make them. And soap is there.”

Edelgard followed along intently, still mesmerized by the strange room Byleth had led her to. The tub and sink were simple white, with silver fixtures that magically distributed water whenever it was desired. Byleth insisted it wasn’t magic, but... Come on. Something had to be magic in this world, right? There was also this strange, porcelain seat that Byleth had to awkwardly explain, too.

Eventually, Byleth left her alone for some privacy. And she was met with her first real challenge of this new world: taking a shower.

She hadn’t realized just how badly she had lost that fight until she started removing her mangled dress and armour. Her hair was practically tied to her crown, and it took a good twenty minutes just to be free of the heavy golden contraption. Removing the rest of her armour was easier, and it wasn’t long before she had stripped down to just her underclothes. She decided to wait until she got the shower working before discarding them, just in case she needed to call Byleth.

She turned one of the nobs on the wall, and water started to flow out of the large spout into the tub. She then tugged on the lever, and the water stopped. There was a beat, and then it started to flow out of another spout mounted higher on the wall, pouring out in multiple little streams as if it were a heavy downpour.

“Huh. So it does make it rain indoors,” she mused.

She then removed the rest of her clothing, and tentatively stepped into the shower.

COLD

She yelped in immediate surprise, and almost slipped on the smooth surface of the tub, only just managing to catch herself on the metal bar with a curtain suspended over the top. Probably for just such a purpose. She scooted away from the frigid water as much as she could.

What did Byleth say again? The other nob must be for the hot water. She bit her lip and lunged into the cold water, grabbing the hot water dial and cranking it as far as it would go.

There was a brief moment when the shower was perfect. Then...

HOT

She yelped again, once more fleeing the water before her skin began to burn.

Why in Sothis’ name would Byleth have such a torture device in her home? And supposedly use it regularly?

“Edelgard?” Byleth called after knocking on the door, “You ok in there?”

“Y...yes, my teacher!” she called back, too proud to admit this stupid shower was besting her.

“You have to balance the temperature,” Byleth shouted, “Don’t turn both nobs up all the way! Try just turning them both a little at a time until the water’s warm.”

Edelgard huffed, but set about it. Rather than diving back into the boiling water, she hopped out of the tub and approached from the side. Eventually, after much trial and error, she managed to get the water to an appropriate temperature.

And only then did she start appreciating it. To think: just having constant hot or cold water on demand! No servants or fire spells necessary. She could feel the warm water and steam washing away all the sweat and grime and blood from her body and it felt so relaxing.

She supposed it was time for to wash her hair. The shampoo bottle said it was fragranced to smell like cucumber and green tea, and was supposed to make hair shiny and soft. She followed the instructions carefully, and only cursed the stuff once when some of it got in her eye. She did the same for the conditioner, and before she was even out of the shower she could tell this stuff was going to do wonders for her hair. She had never felt it so sleek and smooth before.

She had at least experienced soap before, and found herself relieved to find something she was familiar with.

Once finished she turned the water off and reached for the towels Byleth had provided. She returned to her room to find Byleth had left a small pile of folded clothes on the bed. It felt...strange, to wear her old teacher’s clothes. But she had no desire to wear her dirty battledress again, so she reached for a shirt on the top of the pile.

Byleth had just ordered that chicken from the Brigidian food place, and was anxiously pacing back and forth in her living room, ears trained for any sign of distress. Nothing too catastrophic came from the bathroom, but Byleth still guessed she’d likely have to take a mop to it once Edelgard was done.

Speaking of, the former Emperor of Fodlan entered the living room, hair still wet but brushed and free from any intricate hairstyle. Byleth couldn’t hold back the smile spreading on her lips, though, much to Edelgard’s annoyance. The smaller woman was practically swimming in Byleth’s old clothes. The legs of the sweatpants bunched up around her feet, and the blue, red, and yellow sweatshirt was at least two sizes too big, with sleeves going well past her hands and it being so long it could count as a dress.

“Ok, we’ll go out clothes shopping for you in the morning,” she stated, still unable to stop her grin.

Edelgard nodded, glancing down at her new borrowed wardrobe. “I have to admit... These are strange clothes, even if they did fit me,” she said, “What does ‘GMU’ stand for?”

“Garreg Mach University,” Byleth replied, “I, uh, thought it was fitting.”

“So it’s a university now?” Edelgard wondered.

“Yeah, I was a prof there in another life. I wanted to try teaching again,” Byleth told her casually, “It’s...different when it’s actual academic stuff and not military training.”

Edelgard chuckled at that. “I can imagine... No offence, but you were never really good at that side of teaching,” she said.

“None taken. I know I was bad at all that school stuff. But I got better.”

They fell into somewhat of an awkward silence, Edelgard taking in some of the details of Byleth’s apartment she missed earlier, and Byleth unsure of where to go from there. Eventually, she gestured to the couch. “You’re welcome to take a seat!” she suggested, “Dinner’s on the way. But I can make us a snack in the meantime, if you like.”

“That...sounds nice, my Teacher,” Edelgard said as she hesitantly made her way over to the couch. As she got herself comfortable, Byleth headed into the kitchen to throw a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

It only just started popping when she noticed Edelgard in the kitchen entrance. She glanced at the microwave, that inquisitive stare back on her face. “Is that...”

“It’s not magic, I’m afraid,” Byleth said before the thought could be finished.

Edelgard frowned. “Is anything magic in this world anymore?” she asked, a hint of worry beginning to show through.

“Not really. Well, technically, yes,” Byleth said, “A lot of the technology nowadays was inspired by the magic we knew. Some of it even still uses magic, but not to the same degree we needed it before. It makes it more accessible, especially since not everyone was skilled in magic.”

“I...see...”

The popcorn finished up, then, and Byleth fished it out of the microwave. She dumped the bag into a large bowl, then offered it to Edelgard. “Well, here you go: your first modern food,” she said with a smile.

Edelgard glanced down at the popcorn with skepticism written all over her face. She delicately selected a single puffy piece from the bowl, eyes narrowing as she closely inspected it. Eventually, she finally popped it in her mouth.

Her eyes widened almost instantly. Byleth couldn’t hold back her laughter.

“You lied,” Edelgard breathed, taking another few pieces of popcorn eagerly, “This food is proof magic is still alive and well in Fodlan!”

#this au needs a name #i think we're working on it #au ideas #fanfic #fe three houses #edelgard #byleth #i'm picturing edelgard as being so overwhelmed with change she's super passive #byleth is the only constant she recognizes so far #and even then - she's more expressive than she ever was before #a world without gods

127 notes · View notes

bae-leth · 5 years

Text

A really long Miklan and Margrave Gautier headcanon

Is this how you submit longer asks? This is my first time, so I’m really not sure. It got a bit long and I’m really sorry about that. I got carried away. This contains spoilers for Miklan and Sylvain and has a lot of my own ideas scattered within it. I don’t know how old Miklan is, but he looks 21-25ish, so I just went with 25. I also don’t know when crests manifest, so I’m guessing it’s something you find out at birth? Correct me if I’m wrong.

Miklan is a character that I’m really interested in. He was just another victim of the crest system, and it must have been brutal to be abandoned by his family because of something out of his control. From the moment he was born without a crest, his fate was decided. I ended up coming with a small backstory for him and his father.

He probably didn’t understand what was going on as a child. It’s likely that his father treated him well before Sylvain was born because Miklan was his only child and heir at the time. There was no guarantee that Margrave Gautier would ever produce a crest-bearing child, so he had to raise Miklan to be the next head of the family.

He provided Miklan with the best education he could and hired skilled warriors to train his son. He spent countless hours teaching Miklan about what it means to be the head of the family, of what it means to be a leader, of what it means to be a noble. Maybe Miklan even had a fiancee seeing how Ingrid already had a betrothed at such a young age.

Miklan was introduced to his future wife at age 5, and while he didn’t understand what it meant to be engaged to someone, he liked her. She was three years older than him, nice, and liked a lot of the same things five year old Miklan did. Due to his status of a noble and future heir, Miklan didn’t really have that many opportunities to interact with children his age. The moment they met, something clicked and he spent the rest of the visit with her talking about anything and everything that came to his mind. She had a nice laugh.

Life was perfect for him. Miklan was surrounded by loving parents and loved spending time with the girl he was to marry. He was a noble and his family had no shortage of money. Anything he wanted, he got, but he rarely felt like he was missing something. There was not a cloud in his sky.

But, I’m sure Miklan’s lack of a crest was a sore spot and a major source of shame for Margrave Gautier. Crests were important in the status quo in Fodlan, and especially for the Gautier family. Their family had always placed great pride in their crest. Perhaps Margrave Gautier never manifested a crest either, the first head of family to not have one in a very very long time. Had his youngest brother not died from illness, had his mother not become infertile due to the same disease, and had any of his three other younger siblings bore a crest, he never would have been able to claim the title. Growing up, Margrave Gautier couldn’t go a day without being reminded that he was inferior to his brother.

“Did you hear that the next Gautier heir doesn’t have a crest?”

“What a shame that the only child with a crest died. The Goddess can be cruel sometimes.”

“I’m sure that his father must be disappointed. The Gautier family did value their crests so much.”

It drove him mad. He worked and trained night and day, sacrificing meals and sleep to try and better himself so that he could prove that he was worthy despite not bearing a crest. But, no matter how hard he worked, no matter what he did, no matter what, the truth was that he did not bear a crest and that was it. It was clear in his father’s face, clear in the other nobles’ mocking jeers and mock sympathy, and clear in the way that all of his achievements were overshadowed by the lack of a crest. He tried to escape the system, but instead he became like Sisypus who was forced to roll a boulder up a hill only for the rock to roll back down the hill before he could reach the top. All of his struggles were futile and he willingly let himself fall back into the system. I like to think Margrave Gautier was also a victim of the crest system.

When he became the head of the family, he thought that if he could produce a crest-bearing heir, his honor would be restored. So, when Miklan was born without a crest, he was crushed. He still loved his son, his beautiful newborn child, but there was always a small voice at the back of his head that whispered in his ear.

“A child without a crest is worthless.” He tried to push it to the back of his mind, but it was always there. I think that although he loved Miklan, he unconsciously gave up on him. Margrave Gautier may have provided Miklan with a good education and trained him to be the next head of the family, but you can see that Miklan’s stats show that he isn’t proficient at lances which is the Gautier’s holy relic. He didn’t even bother to try and train Miklan to use it. Though you could argue that it would be useless since Miklan couldn’t wield it anyways.

He couldn’t ignore the others’ whispers either.

“Oh my, did you hear? Margrave Gautier’s son also doesn’t have a crest. I wonder if the margrave is cursed?”

Cursed. Perhaps he was. All he wanted was a child with a crest. He needed a child with a crest. In the end, it became an obsession, a manic craze.

Miklan and Sylvain weren’t his only children. The year after Miklan was born, his wife gave birth again. Stillborn.

The third child was miscarried. He probably started to give up at this point, after all, he’d already had three children and two were dead upon arrival. It must have taken a major emotional toll on him, having to live through the deaths of two of his children within two years. During this time, he paid extra attention to Miklan, ensuring that his remaining child was safe and healthy.

But then, the fourth child was born, healthy, with a crest. The Goddess had heard his fervent prayers and blessed him with a crest. His name was Sylvain Jose Gautier.

This was the one. This was his future heir, his shining beacon of hope. And in that moment, Miklan was all but forgotten in Margrave Gautier’s mind.

Ok! Now back to Miklan. He was probably happy to have a sibling, a sibling who was alive. I headcanon at him being around six when Sylvain was born. He was giddy with joy at the idea of having a partner in crime after being alone for so long. But, of course, this wouldn’t be the case.

Margrave Gautier would spent all his time doting on his crest-bearing child, making sure he was safe and well taken care of. He couldn’t lose this child.

Young Miklan would have noticed that his father wasn’t spending as much time with him anymore, but he wouldn’t have realized that it was because of the crest until much later. He thought that maybe if he worked harder, trained harder, his father would pay more attention to him. Miklan was always an obedient and hardworking child. But, now, he spent hours training and training, never getting a bad grade on his tests, always receiving the highest of praises from his instructors. But history repeats itself and to Margrave Gautier, Sylvain’s light is so bright that Miklan is completely outshined.

Seeing how Miklan was able to assemble a group of bandits and be successful in his plunders, I think he probably has pretty good leadership skills on top of being educated in tactics. In different circumstances, Miklan could have been highly successful. He’s a natural leader, charismatic, and incredibly hard working, but instead of nurturing his strengths, Margrave Gautier uprooted him like a weed to make room for his flower even though there was enough land for them both to coexist.

Miklan didn’t find about why he was being ignored until he overheard nobles gossiping in at a party. Then, it finally all makes sense. He was being replaced by Sylvain. Although, Miklan is a smart kid. There’s no way he never realized that Sylvain was being favored because of his crest. Instead, he went into denial for as long as he could because he couldn’t accept the truth. Naturally, if Sylvain was born with a crest, the Sylvain would be the one to inherit the title of Margrave, the position which Miklan has shed blood, sweat, and tears over to prove that he was capable.

But now, he’s angry. He’s frustrated. He’s jealous. He’s resentful. Everything he’s ever done has now gone to waste all because his brother was born with a crest. Sylvain will never have to work for anything. Sylvain will never be looked down upon because of something outside of his control. Sylvain will never have to prove himself.

And then a terrible thought comes to him. If Sylvain died, then everything would return to normal. He feels like a monster the moment he realizes what that meant. He couldn’t hurt his baby brother like that, not when Sylvain toddles up to him and looks up him adoringly with those large eyes of his and calls him “Mik” in that giggly voice of his. But, he can’t help but think and it only gets worse as the years go on.

He thinks when he sees his father smile lovingly at Sylvain. He thinks when Sylvain makes eyes and coos at Lady Galatea. He thinks when he sees Sylvain brightly smiling while surrounded by a gaggle of rambunctious friends. He thinks when all of the nobles gather around Sylvain and predict a bright future of the boy. He thinks when he corners Sylvain and asks him why he isn’t taking his studies and duties more seriously and ten year old Sylvain stares up at him and replies, “Because it doesn’t matter.”

Hate continues to fester within him like a tumor. It’s barely noticeable at first, but it’s there, growing more and more each day, unhindered, killing him, killing the kind and cheerful Miklan until all that’s left is a mess of hatred and a boy who’s far too lost in his own jealousy and insecurities.

So much tragedy could have been prevented had someone simply stepped in to check on him, but no one ever came. Miklan was alone in his internal battle and it was a matter of time when the devil in him won the war. He went through the latter half of his childhood and the beginnings of his teenage years, some of the most important developmental years, alone with only his demons to guide him.

One day, he sees Sylvain leaning over the well. He doesn’t know what comes over him, but he takes a quick look around before shoving Sylvain as hard as he could. A wounded cry bounces off the walls of the well, and Miklan is shocked back to his senses as he stares in horror at what he’s done. He’s afraid to check so he runs, runs until he reaches his room and locks the door. Curiosity drove him to peek outside the window to see servants hauling the young Gautier out of the well, face purple and bleeding, arm twisted at an unnatural angle. And he cries alone, terrified at the person he’s become because there’s a small voice in the back of his mind that had hoped Sylvain was dead.

Sylvain tells Margrave Gautier that he lost his balance while looking into the well, but Miklan knows that Sylvain knows.

Things only continue to get worse. Miklan leaves Sylvain alone in the forest when they went hunting together. Sylvain tells Margrave Gautier that he had wandered off by accident. Miklan shoves Sylvain down a flight of stairs. Sylvain tells Margrave Gautier that he tripped on the carpet and fell down the stairs instead. Miklan impales Sylvain’s chest while sparring. Sylvain tells Margave Gautier that it was his fault for not paying attention.

Why didn’t Sylvain ever blame him? After Miklan’s realization that he was being replaced, he began to distance himself from his brother, from the reminder of his failure. Despite sharing the same blood, there really wasn’t anything else to their relationship other than this cycle of hurt. But, Sylvain never confronted him about his behavior nor did he blame him for anything. Miklan would have prefered for his brother to retaliate compared to the passive approach Sylvain took on. It would have hurt less.

But instead, Sylvain comes up to Miklan one day as he’s studying and pulls up a chair next to him. Gently, he lays his head on Miklan’s shoulder without a word, soft red hair tickling Miklan’s neck.. Why he didn’t shove Sylvain off of him, he doesn’t know, but they stay like that until until the room is cast awash with gentle red glow of the setting sun.

“I’m sorry.” Is the last thing Sylvain says to Miklan before he stands up and leaves the room. That’s the closest they’ve been in years and the last time they’ll ever touch each other until Sylvain pierces the Black Beast’s heart many many years later.

I think Margrave Gautier still loved Miklan, but was so enamoured at the idea of restoring his honor with Sylvain that he neglected his other child. Why was Miklan disowned when Sylvain was 16? Was Margrave Gautier waiting for Sylvain to come of age to become his heir? Then why disown Miklan when he could have just stayed in the family? Perhaps Miklan went too far and got caught and Margrave Gautier who feared for Sylvain’s life, banished Miklan. According to my headcanon, he would have been twenty one.

He never says goodbye to Sylvain, not that it would have had any meaning behind it. He doesn’t get the chance to see his parents one more time. He’s just thrown out.

How lost would he have felt. Where would he go? What would he do? Deep down, he knows this is because he couldn’t control himself, because of his jealousy, but instead, he blames Sylvain because if he hadn’t been born with a crest, none of this would have happened. He blames his father for abandoning his child. He blames everyone else for putting so much value on the crests.

Maybe he sneaks into his fiancee’s residence, climbs up to meet her at her balcony, to ask her one last question because now that he’s been disowned, he’ll never get to marry her. He asks her (hypothetically at this point because the news hasn’t broken out yet) if she could love him if he couldn’t become Margrave Gautier.

Silence.

So he leaves as a broken man with a broken heart and a broken life. Later on, he finds out that his father had sent a letter calling off the engagement and that the girl had already known about his situation.

We all know he forms a bandit groups later, but what if he finds a family there? A group of bandits who’ve been hurt by the crests or need to steal in order to survive. He’s notorious. After all, he’s Miklan Anschutz Gautier, the former heir to the house of Gautier and a man with incredible leadership skills and strength. They flock to him and while he doesn’t realize it until much later, it’s some twisted sort of a family for him. They steal, murder, and hurt to survive, and yet he finds that he’s happier here than anywhere else. He’s treated normally here. He’s noticed.

How ironic. He was once trained to destroy groups like this, and yet, he’s leading one now. It gets to his head. Once upon a time, Miklan was nobody, ignored like he didn’t exist, but now, the kingdom deemed him important enough to deploy its troops to try and take him down. He was strong. He was capable. He would show them what they missed out on. He would ruin the people who hurt him.

Stealing the Lance of Ruin is far too easy. The Gautier residence is like the back of his hand to him and he watches as his men cut down the guards in a sneak attack, not batting an eye as they called out to their former master to spare them. He notes that they were the same ones who dragged him out of the mansion after he was disowned. Before long, he’s face to face with his enraged father. Miklan disarms him easily before snatching up the lance, feeling it tremble and buzz with power before he turns and literally walks out of the mansion. his father, no, Margrave Gautier wasn’t worth wasting time on. Besides, he wanted him to live so that he could hear gossip of Margrave Gautier losing the holy relic to the failure. He would never be able to live it down.

But then, the Church becomes involved and it isn’t long before he’s standing in front of Sylvain again. There’s no heartwarming reunion, no happy hugs, no tears, only two strangers who knew they hated the other. It was all Sylvain’s fault that he was like this now and he’d kill him for that. He wouldn’t let Sylvain ruin his life again. He’d show the world that he was better, that he was stronger and smarter, that he was worthy. That’s his last thought before he’s consumed.

There were so many times that this ending could have been avoided.

If only he was born with a crest.

-----------

notes from bae: I... wow..... I love this. so much? You did a fantastic job at adding so much depth to both Margrave Gautier and Miklan, to the point where I was feeling sympathetic for the both of them by the end of it all. That’s good writing right there.

but instead of nurturing his strengths, Margrave Gautier uprooted him like a weed to make room for his flower even though there was enough land for them both to coexist. - this metaphor??? SO GOOD??? IM????

this is so well thought out and absolutely well done from the beginning to the absolute end. everything from the Margrave’s own personal history with him not having a crest, to his unborn children, to the slow neglect of Miklan, and how Miklan then slowly gets consumed with jealousy.... oh my god. If you wrote a fic on this.... I would genuinely hand you money.

THIS IS SO GOOD. IM OFF TO REREAD IT. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING THIS IN.

#submission #anon #fire emblem three houses #fe16 #sylvain #miklan #margrave gautier #THIS IS SO DETAILED AND WONDERFUL

163 notes · View notes