Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The ride back to the Monastery was tense, lacking the chatter of victory. The Blue Lions had defeated another crew of bandits, but one key member was leaving much worse for wear.

Mercedes had been stabbed with a poison dagger.

Poison daggers were scarce in battle, as they were infamously hard to manufacture and preserve. It wasn’t a weapon for instant killing, but weakening. They were historically used for quiet assassinations rather than the battlefield; Whatever bandit used it was either especially cunning or completely reckless.

Worse, though the wound was healed, the effects of the poison dagger couldn’t be treated with white magic. Mercedes would have to wait for the damage to leave her system over time. Byleth hoped the effects were brief.

If only Mercedes had been near him when it happened, Byleth could have prevented it altogether with Divine Pulse. But Mercedes hadn’t realized she’d been stabbed until after the battle, when someone pointed out the blood on her stomach area, so pinpointing the moment to redo would be impossible.

Byleth and Mercedes sat next to each other in the front of the carriage. Neither wanted the Blue Lions any more anxious than they already were, and Mercedes’s sickliness was evident. She was drifting on the edge of consciousness, holding a wadded cloth to her stomach. She leaned over herself, either from fatigue or pain.

Byleth had explained to her that despite the pain, she shouldn’t fall asleep until they got back to Garreg Mach and a healer could give her medicine.

Byleth kept himself steady. He kept himself present, and he kept himself focused. He was worried about Mercedes. It killed him to see her in pain, but he could help her through this.

He could fall apart when they got back to the Monastery. He could collapse in his powerlessness and worry then. He could wonder if Mercedes would survive then. He could fear that she…

Not yet.

“Sit up straight,” Byleth said, lightly squeezing her shoulder. He could see thick beads of sweat on the back of her neck. “You’ll feel better.”

Mercedes slowly sat up like she was moving through molasses, her head swaying and her eyes closed. Her senses must be swimming. Byleth really couldn’t tell if she was listening to him.

“I know it hurts,” Byleth said, softer than he ever spoke in front of the class. “Take deep breaths.”

He wasn’t sure if, even if she did hear him, if what he was saying was actually comforting. He was just pointing out the obvious.

The carriage hit a bump in the road, and Mercedes winced and gripped the wadded cloth tighter against her, trying to balance the sharp pain with pressure. She hardly had any strength in her, however, and her hands pathetically went loose.

Tentatively, Byleth reached over and placed his hand over hers and helped press the cloth against her stomach. Mercedes weakly hummed. Byleth was happy to help, though the closeness brought a smidge of red to his cheek. He could feel her stomach shift as she breathed in and out.

“Good. Just keep taking deep breaths, Mercedes.”

After several minutes of holding the cloth together, Mercedes leaned on Byleth’s shoulder. Loose strands of her hair brushed his neck, and he could feel the soft give of her cheek against him.

“Sit up straight,” He said, patting her other shoulder. “Don’t fall asleep.”

In response, Mercedes so faintly nuzzled her head against his shoulder. The meaning was clear; She wouldn’t fall asleep, but she didn’t want to move from where she was.

Warmth appeared in Byleth’s chest, and the corner of his mouth tugged into a smile. At least she was there enough to listen to what he was saying. He didn't think it was very fair of him to feel it, but despite the circumstances, this was… nice. It was almost like they were holding each other.

“Alright,” he whispered. “We’ll be there soon.”

Byleth truly valued how close they were. He hoped they’d have time to get closer.

—

Byleth’s voice grounded Mercedes the ride back, almost distracting her from the searing pain throughout her body.

Mercedes laid on a bed in the infirmary, her entire body numb, and heard people talk around her. She occasionally made out words like infection, or weeks. From the tone of their voices, her wound was as serious as it felt.

Was she supposed to be resting? She couldn’t remember being brought to the infirmary, nor could she remember much of the battle from earlier that day; Everything in her mind was a hazy fog. Closing her eyes, Mercedes rested her head against the pillow, and dozed off.

—

When Mercedes woke up, the first thing she noticed was that the searing pain in her stomach was dulled. However, rather than the restorative effects of healing magic, bandages were excessively wrapped around the wound. She opened her eyes, the ceiling slowly revealing itself to her vision.

Her neck was stiff as a tree, and her muscles ached. She groaned.

“Mercedes?”

Byleth! Mercedes tried to look in his direction, but her neck immediately objected in pain. She winced.

Byleth entered her view, standing over her, searching her face. His shady hair was disheveled, and there were dark circles around his eyes.

Mercedes let out a small breath and meekly smiled up at him, eyes squinting to see him more clearly.

Byleth, expression softening, raised his hand in a small kind of wave. “Hi,” he said softly.

Mercedes parted her lips to say something, but her mouth felt impossibly dry. A creaky yawn came out instead.

Byleth sighed through his nose and looked around the room. He left, and came back holding a glass of water.

“Can you sit up?” he asked.

Mercedes tried to pull herself up, but it felt like every ounce of strength was sapped out of her. She arched her head back before resting it back against the pillow.

“That’s okay. All your strength is probably being used to fight the poison.”

Tentatively, Byleth slid his hand under Mercedes’s lower neck. She felt his gloved fingers gently press against her skin, pressure meeting the tension between the grooves of her bones. With the combined focus of both of them, they managed to lift Mercedes enough into a sitting position for her to sip from the glass in Byleth’s other hand.

Byleth carefully tipped the glass to meet Mercedes’s lips, which were parted slightly in preparation. As she took small sips, Mercedes noticed Byleth looked to be in grave concentration. He met her gaze, and Mercedes tried to convey as much gratitude as she could through her eyes. She felt the pressure of Byleth’s fingers shift against her neck. The moment lingered.

Byleth pulled the glass away and lowered Mercedes back down against the bed. Mercedes let in and out a breath, feeling not just the cool water refresh her throat, but a lovely peace throughout her entire body.

It was almost… intimate.

Byleth dragged his chair next to her bed and sat, only just in her field of vision. Mercedes managed to turn her head to look at him.

Byleth laced his fingers. “You’re probably wondering about the state of your health.”

Mercedes blinked. Her mind had gone elsewhere, and she’d completely forgotten. She nodded slightly.

“It is not dire. Manuela has already handled the most lethal parts of the injury and prescribed you medicine for the rest. Jeralt has actually been a great help in figuring out what to do; Apparently he’s been stabbed with a poison dagger before, so he knows how the recovery process works.” Byleth delivered the information with complete monotone. “You will be sick for at least a week or two.”

Relief washed over Mercedes. She let out a sigh and looked at the ceiling, thanking the Goddess for her kindness.

“You need to rest, of course. We’ve cancelled tomorrow’s class, and after that I’ll teach on my own until you’ve recovered,” Byleth said. “Though I’m sure you’ll still want to help.”

Mercedes smiled at Byleth, wider than before. “Thank you dearly,” she croaked out. “I-”

Before she could continue, a knock on the door interrupted her.

Byleth got up and opened it. Mercedes couldn’t see the door, but she heard the hushed voices of Annette and Ashe. Byleth told them Mercedes would be okay, but, more bluntly, that she needed to rest and wasn’t taking visitors. Mercedes heard the door close.

Byleth must have noticed the disappointed look on Mercedes’s face. “They understand,” he said. “They’re content knowing you’re in stable condition.” He sat back down. “Just focus on getting rest for now.”

Mercedes knew he was right, and was too tired to press the point. Before laying her head back down, she had one more question.

“Byleth?”

“Yes?”

“How long were you here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

The question looked like it caught Byleth by surprise. “Well,” he glanced at the ground, “About as long as you’ve been here.” There was a hint of bashfulness in his voice.

Mercedes smiled. Teasing aside, it was very sweet.

“Manuela will wake you up for medicine,” Byleth said, and left the room for her to sleep.

Mercedes tried to clear her mind, but her feelings stirred within her with nothing to distract them. The familiar fondness that was Byleth. He’d stayed in the infirmary for her. He’d comforted her on the ride back. Oh Goddess.

Carefully, Mercedes turned on her side, hiding her face on the surface of the pillow. The fond feeling circled her mind as she drifted off.

—

The medicine she’s given tastes like leather, and it looks and has the same texture as a jam. It’s even stored in the same kind of jar one would keep the fruit spread in. It reminds Mercedes of what she misses while stuck in the infirmary; Baking, and the delicious sweet treats she hasn’t been able to eat. Yet, as Mercedes will always find something to appreciate, it is a little nice to be reminded of things she likes when she can’t enjoy them.

Mercedes takes two spoonfuls of the medicine with each meal, and the thick taste does not get easier on her tongue. The heavy amount of herbs in the concoction is also hard to swallow.

After this, maybe she would learn about the healing process of poison injuries- In all her time studying healing, she’d never heard of this kind of medicine.

It’s been a week since her injury, and she’s been keeping her wandering mind at ease. She has had the pleasure of being visited by students, who were ever so pleasant and curious about her. Annette especially insisted on checking in often, doing the bulk of the talking and bringing her gifts. Their friendship had definitely changed since the School of Sorcery, with Mercedes unexpectedly becoming a professor, so the wall of professor and student was temporarily blurred during her leave. Another silver lining!

Mercedes spent most of her time knitting. Byleth brought her the supplies, and she’s had plenty of time to indulge in her hobby. It felt right to weave the fabric together and create something out of nothing. Since she was a child, she always felt at peace when her hands could be moving and her mind was free to aimlessly wander.

Occasionally she had to stop and lay down when her wound flared with pain, but that didn’t stop her from eventually finishing her project. She smiled wide as she looked at the completed work.

A dark blue, round table cover with red and black stripe patterning laid completed. Mercedes had considered making Byleth a scarf or gloves, but knew he didn’t really need a new one of either. She wanted to make something he would really appreciate, as thanks for all the kindness and attentiveness he’d shown her. And, it was… cathartic to channel her feelings into something physical.

A table cover was perfect for one of Byleth’s key interests: Tea parties. A decorative blanket that would fit perfectly on the table, with Byleth colors for a personal touch… Mercedes hoped he liked it.

She put the table cloth next to her bed, wrapped in the paper she was able to get her hands on. Mercedes eagerly anticipated Byleth’s next visit, bouncing her feet under the blanket.

How would she present it? Byleth wouldn’t have qualms with accepting a gift, she figured, with how often he gave others personalized gifts entirely unprompted. And they’d worked together for months, and this wasn’t a huge leap from how Mercedes showed her friends affection- She’d knitted things for her friends plenty of times! She was overthinking it. Funny, she thought. She so often under-thinked things.

Eventually, a knock on the door was followed by Byleth coming in, holding a tray of food in his hand. His black cloak fluttered behind him, the metal of his gauntlets shined. His firm brows and lunar eyes reminded Mercedes of a beautifully painted portrait, expressions not soft, but not harsh either.

The way his dark hair framed his face… Dashing.

Mercedes felt her heart flop to her stomach as Byleth walked over and set the tray down and wordlessly sat on the chair next to her. Mercedes noticed there was lunch for two on the tray, and snickered. They were both used to having meals together as co-professors, though they’d seen less of each other the past few days as classes resumed.

They started eating, Mercedes asking about what had been going on at the Monastery while she’s been gone. Byleth talked about the Houses preparing for the White Heron Cup, a recent stable incident, and that he’d had a particularly determined training session with Felix earlier that day.

“I do worry about him,” Mercedes said. “He seems so distant from his friends. And he gets so aggressive the moment someone presses.”

“And he neglects his other subjects to focus on sword fighting,” Byleth agreed. “I need to talk to him about that.”

“Not to mention how he talks to Dimitri. It must hurt to have one of your childhood friends berate you like a monster.” Mercedes frowned, concerned. “And Dimitri… I don’t think he gets very much sleep, either. Do you think so too?”

“I haven’t asked. But I agree he’s not well.”

Mercedes hummed, and they continued eating.

“You’re always thinking about the students' emotions,” Byleth noted. “You pick up on things I would never notice on my own. It’s one of the things that makes you a great professor.”

Mercedes looked up, caught off guard. “Oh, um, thank you, Byleth! You notice things I never would too; I mean, I’m rather forgetful, but you’re a master battle strategist!” She closed her eyes and smiled. “That’s what makes us a great team, isn’t it!”

It was Byleth’s turn to be caught off guard. “Um, yes… But that’s not what I meant.” He let out a breath and gestured at her. “Your absence has been… felt, the past week. The Monastery isn’t as bright without your glow living in it. You, um…” He looked to the side.

Byleth’s features typically radiated focus- It made it apparent when he was unsure of himself. Mercedes patiently listened, mouth slightly open and pink in her cheeks. Her hair stood up on the back of her neck.

“I don’t see anyone, in all of Fodlan, even, who inspires me like you do. You’ve experienced so much pain and grief, and you rose above it. Valiantly. I think about what you’ve told me about your youth, and I…” Lost for words, he shook his head. “You still choose to treat everyone you meet with kindness because you want to give them comfort they wouldn’t otherwise have, to give them a shoulder to cry on, or a friend to rely on. I just- I… I’m glad I know you, Mercedes.”

Silence filled the infirmary. Mercedes blinked, staring at Byleth, processing the spilling of earnestness that just came out of him. Her arms felt like jelly, and before she knew it, she felt tears prick in her eyes. She felt as if Sothis herself had shone a ray light into her soul.

Mercedes wanted to deny it. For someone who grew up as a mercenary to tell her that she overcame pain was absurd. But to hear that she inspired Byleth- That someone as amazing as him would think she’s valiant. Just for how she treated others. She wasn’t sure about it, that she deserved such kind words, but Byleth thought so.

“Oh…” She blinked, and a tear streaked down her cheek. “Byleth, I…” She sniffed and wiped it away.

“I’m sorry,” Byleth said. “I didn’t mean to ramble-”

“No, I-” She took a breath. Why was she so emotional? “Your words struck a chord. I’m glad I know you too, since you’ve come into my life it’s been so enriched and I… I’d very much like to- to hug you, if that’s alright.”

Byleth blinked and nodded, and Mercedes wrapped him in a large hug, leaning over from her spot in the bed, legs tucked under her. He was warm, and his cloak was smooth against her palms. She rested her jaw on his shoulder his on hers, so they couldn’t see each other. His arms wrapped around her back. Their bodies supported each other perfectly.

Mercedes sighed. She felt like love was oozing out of her.

She also realized, distantly and then excitedly, Now would be the perfect time to give him the table cover. Sothis must have smiled on her to create such a perfect moment, and to relieve her worry on the matter.

She pulled back, smiling so hard her face hurt. She left her hands on Byleth’s shoulders and took him in for a moment. Byleth was staring at her lips, eyes wide.

The idea shot through her mind like lightning. Mercedes’s heart raced in her chest, faster and faster, and her mouth felt dry. From her place on the bed, she was a little higher than him, and looking down at him, she thought how easy it would be to lean down and press their lips together.

Would that be okay?

She chose, right then, she wouldn’t worry.

If Byleth felt the same way, she didn’t want to wait for their time as co professors to be over. She wanted to explore their bond, to fulfill each other and give, and give, and finally have a connection where someone understood her for the good and her hurt.

Mercedes understood Byleth. Byleth professed understanding for her. Goddess. That’s what she’d wanted for so long.

“Mercedes?” Byleth said with a sucked in breath. His nerves looked on edge.

Mercedes giggled a shaky breath.

“Mercedes.” Byleth said in a firm voice. “Something’s wrong.”

A beat. Mercedes felt like the floor had collapsed under her.

“Oh, I- I’m sorry- I-” She took her hands off his shoulders and moved back on the bed. The edges of grave disappointment and embarrassment came barreling towards her.“I thought-”

“No,” Byleth quickly stood up, suddenly tense. “Not that. Your mouth-” He pointed at the edge of his bottom lip. “There’s something. I don’t know what it is.”

Mercedes felt her face fall, feeling utterly lost. Slowly, she touched her bottom lip with the tip of her fingers, wondering desperately what had ruined the moment.

Her finger touched something alien. A thick, gooey substance at the corner of her mouth that leaked down to her chin. Mercedes pulled back her hand to look at it.

A pure black, shiny drop was stuck to her finger, so thick it wasn’t dripping off. It took a moment for Mercedes to understand what she was looking at before the confusion turned to horror. This was coming out of her mouth.

Her eyes were so fixed in place, it felt like they were shaking in her skull. Tentatively, she moved her tongue to find it in her mouth; It burned against the wet, soft muscle, attacking it with a dark, bitter and revolting taste.

Mercedes couldn’t move. She looked at the bedsheets in front of her, the folds and creases. Byleth had rounded the bed to her other side and grabbed her wrist to get a closer look at it. Her heart was racing.

Something hot and throbbing was just under the surface of her skin.

Suddenly, sharp, searing pain shot from her stomach- Like a dozen little cuts a second, the healed stab wound started tearing open.

Mercedes threw herself against the bed like a woman possessed- The pain of her skin unstitching itself bit by bit, like someone was pulling it apart on either side, was nauseating- She gripped the edges of the mattress so hard her knuckles turned white.

She knew she needed to face the horror now. She needed to know.

With trembling hands, Mercedes lifted the hem of her shirt to reveal the spot where she had been stabbed. The black substance from her mouth was oozing through the layers of bandages, which were now barely visible under the mound on top of her stomach. Her wound squelched, and the pile pulsed like a beating heart as more black sludge oozed out. Her soft skin tingled as it moved down, heavy and warm.

Instinctively, Mercedes tensed her stomach, and the opening in her body squirted out more ooze. The lights of the room shone off its pure black texture.

Mercedes tried to scream, but her voice was caught in her throat. She tried again, but only a choked sound escaped her lips. She tried again, and again, feeling the rise in her throat come and fall each time, until she was hyperventilating. She couldn’t take her eyes off it, feeling each thick ounce leave the cut in her stomach and spill onto her navel. She wanted it off her, she wanted it off her so bad.

She felt Byleth squeeze her hand. She didn’t know where he was, and her hand felt like it was detached from her body.

Suddenly, she felt something else rise in her throat. All at once, she violently jerked her entire body to the side, and chunky, watery bile projected out of her mouth onto the floor. She gagged, and vomited again, seeing her hair get caught in it.

Her eyes were still shaking, and her skin felt clammy, and she heard Byleth shout something, and she knew she got the black ooze on the nice white infirmary sheets. Mercedes couldn’t tell what was real, the cut festering and squelching, her mouth tasting like vomit and her nostrils blocked. She blinked once, twice, and felt her heart still beating. She thought, not knowing if she would get another chance, that she never gave Byleth the table cloth she’d knitted him.

Then everything went black.

—

It wasn’t a normal poison dagger.

That was all they could gleam; Manuela speculated that it had been infused with dark magic, but if that was the case, it was a type or technique they’d never encountered. No help there.

Others speculated that the bandit that stabbed Mercedes could be affiliated with Solon or The Death Knight, and that would explain the unfamiliar weapon, as they seemed to have access to advanced means- though if that were true, that would mean this was premeditated, and it didn’t make sense for them to target Mercedes.

The bandit that stabbed her was the only one who knew, and he was seven days dead.

—

Byleth didn’t sleep that night. He went to the cathedral to be alone.

Mercedes hadn’t woken up since she passed out. She was moved to a private wing of the infirmary. The whole of Garreg Mach’s healers were involved now, trying their best with what they knew. They weren’t sure if the black ooze coming out of her body was one of the symptoms, or if it was her body expelling the poison as a result of the medicine. Either way, they collectively agreed it was better for it (whatever it was) to be out of her system rather than in.

The black ooze stopped shortly after she fell unconscious, and they’d cleaned the wound. But everyone was uneasy, wondering if it would happen again, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Hanneman was studying the substance in his lab, trying to decipher the properties. It wasn’t his area of study, but he was a scientist nonetheless. Explaining the situation to him, though, had been… uncomfortable.

Byleth couldn’t handle being in the infirmary while they treated her. No one seemed to know when she would wake up next. He could still hear her panicked breaths, and he could think of no one who deserved this less. He dwelt on the bitterness of it all.

Sitting in the pews, he buried his face in his hands. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. Mercedes was going to recover. She’d gotten better, and then– It was so much. He wasn’t used to feeling this much. All his thoughts swirled together, fear mixed with confusion, mixed with loneliness mixed with… love?

Is that what it was? Byleth never got familiar with the concept. He loved his father, and he loved his students, but Mercedes was different. Special. He wanted to share things with her. He wanted to shoulder the weight with her. Mostly, he just wanted her to be better.

Was it love, that moment before it happened? After he waxed about his feelings, feelings he didn’t even understand, and she responded with open arms? She accepted his absurdly direct way of being, like she always did? She always gave everything, and asked for nothing.

He slid his hands down his face. If he was a few years younger, he’d go into the woods, either to scavenge or look for a job. It was how he kept himself alive when his mind was a jumbled mess- Sharpening his reflexes, his resolve to kill to survive, like the mercenary he was raised to be.

He was a mercenary. He thought he knew himself best with daggers in each hand, silently expunging the throats of strangers, his face not changing the whole time. And he did, for a while. He was the dreaded Ashen Demon, son of the mighty Blade Breaker. Taking lives as nothing but a shape within the shadows, a chill in the air.

He realized something had changed. He knew himself best as a professor. His life at Garreg Mach.

He knew himself best- he felt his internal self was the same as the external, down to the deepest core- when he was with Mercedes.

Chapter Text

“Class. Do you all remember when I said Professor Mercedes would be returning by next week?”

The Blue Lions nodded.

“I was wrong. She will not be back by next week.”

The Blue Lions waited for their professor to elaborate. Instead, he explained that the class today would be guided practice, and that there would be no homework or written assignments for the foreseeable future.

Annette raised her hand, eyes wide and fidgeting with concern.

“Yes, Annette,” Byleth pointed.

“Is Mercie- Is Professor Mercedes okay? Is she going to come back?” Annette asked. Her classmates murmured in mutual anxiety.

Byleth’s face betrayed nothing. “She will come back,” he said. “But I can’t tell you not to worry. Only you can decide that. I’m sorry.”

Annette looked white as a ghost, but she complacently nodded and folded her hands on the table.

The class went on from there, heavy weight hanging over everyone. Students were whispering to each other, trading tidbits of what they’d overheard from faculty or nurses, which was not much. Dimitri, being rather commendable as house leader, kept morale for his classmates from completely sinking.

“Eyes up, Flayn,” Dimitri said, tapping her lance with his. “You must train with your whole heart!”

Flayn barely lifted her lance’s head from the ground. “Apologies. My mind is elsewhere. Professor Mercedes’s absence is most troubling, is it not?”

“I understand your concern,” Dimitri said. “I feel the same. But there is nothing we can do. Professor Byleth wishes for us to keep our heads held high.”

“I am concerned for Professor Byleth as well,” Flayn said, tapping her lance against her partner’s. “Especially considering, well…”

“I know what you’re about to say, Flayn, and I must advise you not to listen to idle gossip. Especially if it came from Sylvain.”

“It’s not just Sylvain, Your Highness. It’s quite evident to almost everyone.”

“Regardless. Now come on!” He tapped her lance, and his voice took an encouraging tone. “Professor Mercedes would want us to keep living in her absence, yes?”

“That is true.” Flayn raised her lance to proper position. “Though, being the person she is, I would suspect she’d rather want us to pray to the Goddess for her recovery.”

“Hm,” Dimitri said. “Yes, I believe we can do that as well.”

—

After classes, Byleth visited Jeralt in his office.

Jeralt offered his condolences, but, the frank man he was, told his son not to expect the worst. In his life, he’d said, he’d seen people recover from injuries and illnesses that looked horrific, but passed with time. He also admitted the Church of Seiros, though he had his grievances, was one of the better places in the country to have a mortal wound, with all the medicine and generations of knowledge.

Byleth listened to what he had to say. They spent the rest of the afternoon fishing, hardly a word said between them.

—

The infirmary staff swarmed like bees.

Healers and nurses stepped around each other, careful not to knock over the equipment or medicine on the table. Some were in the corner reading through Hanneman’s latest notes, while others cleaned surgical tools, just in case.

An older attendant wiped a cloth across Mercedes’s forehead, morose as she looked over the still young woman.

“What is this?” A healer on the other side of the bed asked, holding up something loosely wrapped in spare table paper.

“Where did you find that?” She asked, not recognizing it.

“It was a little under the bed.”

“Then why would I know what it is? Open it.”

The healer did so, revealing a blue, folded knit.

“What is this supposed to be?” The healer said, lifting an edge to look at it.

“Oh, is it some kind of blanket?”

“No, it’s too round to be a blanket.”

“A rug, then?”

“Maybe.”

Their conversation was cut short by the door suddenly opening, and the attention of the entire room was focused on who walked in.

Seteth strolled to the front of the infirmary. The Archbishop’s Advisor’s gaze demanded authority, each staff member standing at attention.

“Director,” he said, going up to her, “How is the patient doing?”

“Well, she’s alive,” She said, wiping sweat from her brow. “Her symptoms haven’t spiked since yesterday, and her breathing is stable. The research notes have been moderately helpful. That said, it’s up to chance when she wakes up- It could be tomorrow, it could be a week.”

“I see.” Seteth turned his head to Mercedes, and the healer next to her caught his eye. “What is that you’re holding?”

The healer quickly put the knit down. “Um, some kind of knit, s-sir. Probably made by the patient.”

Seteth narrowed his eyes. “I advise, for the sake of your career, do not go through the patient’s belongings while they are unconscious.”

The healer looked at the ground, ashamed. “O-of course, sir.”

“Um, please, spare him, Sir Seteth.” The director said. “The staff has been very stressed during this crisis. We’ve all been working very long hours, trying to treat and medicine something none of us have ever seen or heard of, and top of all that, the weight of keeping the disturbing details from spreading to the rest of the Monastery. I believe we are all rather at our wits end.”

Seteth exhaled. “The state of affairs is extenuating. The church is grateful for the staff’s compliance on such short notice.” Choosing to let it drop, he continued. “Unfortunately, I did not come with any new information. What have you learned about the black matter that Ms. Martritz’s body… excreted?”

“We can only guess the origin, the effects on the body, and how it was physically made,” The director listed. “We know it has density. It’s heavy in your hands. It’s almost like a gelatinous mucus.”

“Alright,” Seteth said, scrunching his nose.

“Hanneman hypothesizes the poison imbued itself into her system, then became thicker, or, more solid, inside her. Either from time or by absorbing nutrients.”

“If that’s the case, would that not mean the poison has left her body after it came out of her wound?”

“Yes, though take any conclusions with a grain of salt. But even so, the poison could have damaged or infected her organs before changing forms.”

Seteth nodded. “In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like this.” He put his hand to his chin and murmured to himself. “What could have done this… what kind of people would even be capable of…”

He stopped, eyes widening as if he suddenly realized something.

“Sir?”

“I must go, director. Keep up the admirable work.”

With that, Seteth turned and left, leaving the infirmary members looking at each other in confusion.

—

A full, ethereal moon floated high over Garreg Mach.

Byleth’s eyes found Mercedes as soon as he walked into the infirmary. No one else was there, the staff having left for the night.

He intended to get sleep that night, but all day he’d thought about her, like an itch only seeing her could scratch. He didn’t understand why; He knew she was still there, and it wasn’t as if his presence would aid her recovery.

It was a little jarring seeing her face so calm, so unaffected, her delicate rounded cheeks taking in and out sleeping breaths, after the day before. She looked angelic.

He felt uncomfortable standing over her, so he pulled out a chair and sat near the bed, just taking comfort in her presence. Even though she couldn’t talk, or even know he was in the room.

Byleth looked out the window at the moon. People often told him he looked emotionless. He didn’t feel very emotionless right now.

“What are you doing here? Go get some sleep, she’ll still be there in the morning.”

“Ah.” Byleth thought. “Hello Sothis. I don’t suppose you could shed any light on this situation.”

The familiar girl in Byleth’s head sighed. “Sadly no. Answers elude me as always. I’m sorry you must go through this. I hope your friend will wake up and be well, though if only for your sake.”

“Appreciated. It is a lot to happen all at once.”

“Indeed. The happenings at this place become stranger and stranger still. And yet, you insist on ignoring my ideas!”

“Is that so.”

“It *is* so!”

Byleth smirked. “I suppose.”

Sothis huffed. “By the way, if I can glean one thing from your friend’s situation… it’s that she clearly means a great deal to you.”

“...” Byleth nodded once. “Yes.”

“Aha! So I can expect wedding bells in your future, yes?”

“That’s not funny, Sothis.”

The two continued talking, Sothis eventually succumbing to yawns and leaving to sleep. Before Byleth knew it, he did the same, falling asleep in his chair.

—

“Girl.”

The word is drawn out to get her attention.

Von Bartels stares at her from his chair, leaning back, eyes sunken into his pale face. Mercedes is still too young to know what that look means. She’s also young enough to want, want desperately, to be a good and loyal daughter to her new father. So she politely answers his call and walks over.

“Your father has a headache, Mercedes. Tell me a story.”

Mercedes doesn’t remember what she said then; But she knows she was confused, and in the cockles of her being she knew she was being tricked. The manipulation in his voice seeped from his mouth to the floor. But she didn’t have the words or knowledge to do anything other than obey.

“Alright,” von Bartels cuts her off. He looks at the ceiling. “Let me tell you a story. Just last night, your mother,” He spat out the words with obvious resentment, “Told me that if I ever laid hands on you again… she would act.”

He laughed darkly. Mercedes wrung her small hands.

“The woman does not threaten the lord of the house.” He stood up. “She does not make demands of him.”

He looks down at Mercedes, his hand curling and uncurling into a fist. The hatred in his eyes was not for her, but for her mother. Mercedes wondered where Emile was.

“What do you think I am going to do to you, Mercedes?”

Mercedes didn’t know. She didn’t know. She hoped Emile was safe in his room.

“It is time for your suffering…” He gripped his belt. “To begin.”

—

Mercedes woke in the middle of the night.

Her eyes shot open and she bolted up, screaming in shock and horror.

Her mind picked up from where she had passed out, with pure black oozing convulsing from her body. Her mind flooded with questions.

Why is the room so dark?

What is happening to her?

Was she dying?

Her arms hysterically swung around, searching for something solid to hold onto, to ground her, but her senses were too frenzied. She didn’t recognize the infirmary gown she was wearing. Her blood raced through her veins. Her eyes felt like they were going to pop out of her skull.

“-cedes?!”

Surprised, she whipped her head back and forth for the sound, thrashing her legs.

“Mercedes!”

The source of the sound made itself known; She squinted her eyes and looked over her shoulder, seeing a silhouette next to her bed. Before she could panic more, her vision adjusted, and she realized who it was.

Byleth was looking at her, hands in front of him, looking as shocked as she had ever seen him.

Her words came in a frenzied rush. “Byleth- What- What’s going on, I- I- My- I-”

“Shh,” Byleth said. “Shh. Take a deep breath.”

“I- I don’t- What’s-” She ran out of breath, her words becoming more and more raspy as her eyes darted around. She pressed her back against the wall.

“It’s over.” Byleth reassured her. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but it is.”

She could barely understand him. Mercedes closed her eyes, breaths rapid. Everything was too much, she wanted it off her so bad-

“Here,” Byleth placed a pillow in her lap. “Hug this.”

Mercedes did, squeezing it to her chest and folded over, hiding her face. Byleth rubbed her back slowly and gently, from the top to the bottom.

“You’re safe. You’re okay.” His steady voice reassured her, in sync with the soothing sensation. Mercedes hugged the pillow closer and focused on Byleth’s hands on her. She listened to her own heartbeat.

“Is-” She tried weakly, “Am I-”

“It’s over,” Byleth said again. “I know it doesn’t feel like it yet, but it is.”

She could still feel her wound tingling, the heavy and burning sludge squirting out of her against her will, the unnatural black color inking through the bandages.

Byleth rubbed her back in slow circles.

“Easy,” he said, feeling her tense. “Nothing is going to hurt you.”

Nothing was going to hurt her. How could that sound so wrong?

Mercedes let herself stay hidden until the present seemed real enough to face. Slowly, she crossed her legs and lifted her head, sitting up. Byleth was sitting next to her on the bed. He took a deep breath in, then out. She slowly did the same.

She looked around. The moon was in the window. The infirmary was stacked with bottles and vials.

She put her hand to her stomach. The wound was closed and bandaged.

She took a breath. Her limbs felt hollow.

It was over. She was alive. She was safe.

She was okay.

She looked at Byleth. She put her hand on his arm.

“Hi,” she said. Her voice was hoarse.

Byleth smiled. “Hi. Do you want me to get you a nurse, or some water?”

Mercedes shook her head and squeezed his arm. “Just be here. Please.”

Byleth looked at her- Mercedes felt he was looking at her more deeply than ever before. She was hiding nothing from him, reserving no truth from how she felt. He’d brought her back from her break down, and now, there she was.

“Of course,” Byleth said, and patted her hand. “Do you feel better?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “Just be here. Please”

She had so much to say, but now was not the time. If she tried, she wouldn’t be able to stop. It was all too much for her raw mind to process. Mercedes felt like her personality, her reservations, her sense of safety, all that would come back in time.

Right now, she was just Mercedes.

Chapter Text

Byleth sat with her until morning, until the infirmary door opened again and a healer walked in. The healer yelped and almost fell over when he saw them, and immediately let out a sigh of relief at Mercedes’s recovery. Mercedes giggled at his reaction. Byleth looked at her, eyebrows raised.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said, though his eyes stayed on her, looking at her with something she couldn’t quite place.

Soon enough, nurses arrived on duty and asked them both questions, Mercedes having just as many. Byleth had filled Mercedes in on how long she’d been unconscious, but not much more than that. She didn’t want to know anymore about the black ooze, but asked general questions to gauge the state. The answers she got weren't especially reassuring, but their optimistic attitudes were enough.

Halfway through the morning Byleth left to concern his duties and give Mercedes privacy while the infirmary director gave her a physical exam.

“Can you raise your arms over your head?”

Mercedes could not. Her joints felt locked in place. She shook her head and winced.

“Hm.” the director wrote something on their clipboard. “Can you try walking?”

Mercedes, with a surprising amount of effort, stabilized her two feet on the floor. Tension built in her stomach. “How far?”

“Just try to go to the end of the room and back.”

She managed a few steps, but it was far from how she was used to walking. Her legs felt like they could barely support her body, and she almost stumbled to the floor, her sense of balance completely gone.

“Thank you, that’s enough. Sit back down.” This went on.

In the early evening, after the exam was finished, Byleth walked through the door, holding a tray of assorted cookies and pastries. Mercedes felt herself gape at the treats, her mouth immediately watering and eyes twinkling.

“I figured you might miss these,” Byleth smirked, walking over and setting them down on the side table. “Annette helped me pick out your favorites.”

The array of chocolate, cream puffs and cakes were indeed familiar to Mercedes.

“Oh my!” Mercedes gasped. “Thank you so much, Byleth! And please tell Annie how grateful I am, too. It feels like ages since I’ve had something sweet.”

"Ehh," The director let out a hesitant noise. "Sweets may not be the best idea."

Byleth turned to her. "Oh, will sugar counteract the medicine, or something?"

"Well, no, but in my professional opinion," The director looked Mercedes up and down and raised her eyebrows. "I recommend she goes on a general diet."

Mercedes blushed. Though she was never down on herself for how she looked, it was embarrassing to have her appearance commented on so bluntly, and she suddenly felt self-conscious in the infirmary gown, if it was that obvious from her just sitting there. She quickly glanced at Byleth before looking down between her feet.

Byleth narrowed his eyes. "I see," he said, crossing his arms. He waited a beat for Mercedes to say something before speaking again. "Are you in the middle of anything here?"

"No, though I do need to go over the results of the physical exam-"

"Then please give us the room."

The director raised an eyebrow but complied, gathering her papers and stepping out.

Mercedes avoided eye contact as Byleth turned to her.

"Did that get to you?" he asked.

Mercedes sighed. “It’s silly that it should.”

“Because you just woke up from a comatose sleep after a life threatening and alien injury?”

Mercedes peered at him. She would never scold Byleth for asking for clarification, as he usually did when it came to emotional matters. “Yes, that is what I meant.”

“Well, that’s all the more reason people should keep their arbitrary judgements about you to themselves.” Byleth handed her a frosted pound cake from the tray. “And it would make it foolish to deprive yourself of things you like, no?”

Mercedes was taken aback. It almost sounded like her own advice was thrown back at her. Still blushing, she took the cake from Byleth. “Hm. Well said!” She moved to the side of the bed, making room for him. “Have one with me, will you?”

Byleth sat next to her and took a cake, clinking it with hers like a glass. His posture was oddly stiff, Mercedes thought. Must be a habit from his time as a mercenary.

Mercedes took a bite of her cake. The fluffy texture delighted her mouth as frosting tingled on her lips. Goddess, after infirmary food and the bitter medicine, this tasted divine.

Mercedes sighed, this time happily. She felt like she was herself again for the first time since waking up, instead of just a lost soul trying to put herself back together.

“Thank you, Byleth,” she said.

“For these?” He asked, crumbs on the corner of his mouth. “You’re welcome.”

“No, for last night.” She ran a hand through her hair. “It was… I… I don’t know what I would have done if I had woken up alone. And you-” She felt her face heat up, and she resisted the urge to hide behind her hands. “You really calmed me down wonderfully.” She shook her head, the tenderness of the memory overwhelming her. “Thank you, Byleth. Thank you for being there.”

The warm memory of Byleth’s hands rubbing her back washed over her. She searched Byleth’s face as he took in her clumsy words. She wondered if he knew how much he’d helped. Did he think differently of her after seeing her so vulnerable…?

“Maybe I should have brought tea to go with these,” Byleth said, looking at the cake in his hand. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper tea party, after all.”

What? What does that have to do with-

Mercedes gasped. That reminded her- Why was she so forgetful? - She had never given Byleth the table cover she made!

“What?” Byleth asked.

Mercedes smiled at him, excitement written on her face. “Just a moment!”

Moving further to the side, Mercedes leaned over to look over the bed. The gift wasn’t where she left it, oddly enough. She found the paper wrapping on the shelf nearby. She took it in her hands, and turned back to Byleth, holding it proudly. She adjusted her position so she was facing him.

Byleth looked at it curiously, mirroring her and sitting to face her.

Her excitement turned to nerves as she explained. “I, um, made this for you, as a token of gratitude. I made it during my first week here. I wanted to give it to you earlier, but, well…”

“You made this for me?” Byleth’s surprise was obvious.

“Is it really that odd?” She pushed it over to him. “I only hope you like it.”

Byleth took apart the layers of paper, revealing the blue knit. He held it up in its full length, silently looking over the design.

“A tablecloth?”

“Yes!” Mercedes smiled brightly. “To add a personal touch to your tea parties.”

“I see. I love it.” He rubbed it against his cheek. “It’s soft.” He folded it neatly. “Thank you, Mercedes. You really made this for me?”

“M-hm. I wanted to give you something you would actually use.”

“I use knives.”

Mercedes snickered. “Yes, but I can’t very well make you a knife, can I?”

“I suppose not. And I’ll definitely use this. Knitting seems so… time consuming to me, that I admire the dedication.”

“You brought me my knitting supplies, did you think I wasn’t going to use them?”

Byleth looked down. “Good point. Though I thought you were just keeping yourself entertained.”

“Hm.” Mercedes looked at him earnestly. “It sounds a bit self centered, but I really wanted to give you something only I could give you. I wanted to make you something out of nothing, y’know?”

Byleth nodded, folding the tablecloth and placing it on his lap. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I get you a gift.”

Mercedes waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, please don’t feel obligated.”

Before he could respond, the infirmary director knocked on the door, interrupting them. “Can I come back in now?”

Mercedes exchanged a look with Byleth. She’d completely forgotten about her. Byleth shrugged and answered her.

The director stepped in, and if she was surprised to see Byleth sitting on the bed, she chose to ignore it.

The director explained that Mercedes had a fever and would need help doing daily tasks for a few days- Mercedes figured that made sense, if she couldn't even lift her arms over her head. Though she wasn’t looking forward to the awkwardness that would come with someone helping her dress. She perked at the news that she would be able to go back to her room tomorrow, even though she was ordered bed rest. She missed her own bed dearly. All things considered, she’d be back to teaching with Byleth soon.

The director left again. Byleth turned to her, frowning. “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

“Hm?”

“She said you won’t be able to do things by yourself for a few days,” He leaned closer. “Does anything hurt right now?”

Mercedes blinked as she realized what he meant. “Oh… Well, I was rather dizzy, but it’s getting better.”

Byleth kept looking at her.

“Um…” The words ‘I can barely walk’ were stuck in her throat. “My muscles are a bit achy.”

Byleth narrowed his eyes. Suddenly, he grabbed a damp hand towel from the side table and pressed it to Mercedes’s forehead. Mercedes felt herself blushed, despite the coolness against her skin.

“You haven’t slept since you woke up,” Byleth said, patting the towel across her forehead. “And you have a fever. You must be tired.”

Mercedes shifted her weight on the bed. She actually felt very alert at the moment, locked in Byleth’s movements.

Byleth put the towel aside and looked at her expectantly. Mercedes blushed deeper, mouth slightly open. She considered that every time she and Byleth touched, she thought about it for hours later, reliving each graze of their hands or the weight of his press.

She didn’t want anything to slip through her fingers. Byleth was so, so good to her when he didn’t need to be. Her limits and failings muffled out as something else possessed her.

Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed Byleth’s gloved hand, rubbing her thumb against his palm. Byleth’s eyes widened, and for a moment, Mercedes worried she’d made a mistake, until Byleth extended his arm, so their linked hands were resting between them.

Mercedes swallowed. “Yes. Maybe I should get some rest. And I think I know something that would help.”

“What?” Byleth asked. His mouth was small and tight as he looked at her, like he was enraptured.

Mercedes giggled despite herself. She liked being charming when she wanted to be.

“I’d very much like for you to stay here with me. You’re brave, smart, and compassionate.” She lifted Byleth’s hand to her mouth. How could a moment feel so important but so weightless at the same time? “Nothing brings me solace like your presence.”

Gently, she peeled the base of his glove from his hand. His skin under it was pale and riddled with scars, both small and continuing down his wrist.

Time slowed as Mercedes pressed a kiss to the top of Byleth’s hand. For the first time, her lips felt the warmth of his skin.

She’d seen noble men and knights kiss the hands of young women around the Monastery often, usually while flirting- yet, it felt as if she’d come up with the idea herself, in that moment, just for Byleth and Byleth alone. A crafted act made from the endless well of affection in her heart.

She released, eyes half lidded and smiling. No weight left her shoulders, but she was floating regardless. She’d done it.

Byleth took in a breath. "Do you really… feel that way?" He asked, stunned.

Mercedes nodded, still holding his hand. "I have for a while," She whispered.

"Oh." Byleth looked down, considering it. "I think I do too. Have, too."

She couldn't stop herself from grinning. "For me?"

Faint pink colored Byleth's cheeks. He reached his hand over and cupped her cheek; Mercedes looked into his steel blue eyes, letting out another shaky giggle.

He pressed their foreheads together. "Yes."

Mercedes melted. A wall between them crumpled, and she felt all the uncertainty of who she was to this strange and wonderful person leave. She could barely believe it. She wanted to hold him and never let go.

Mercedes was affectionate with her friends. She was open with strangers. But with Byleth, she had something she’d never had before. More than just affection… Or, another version of it. Understanding. Partnership. A partnership where neither had to worry about hiding how they felt anymore.

She nuzzled her forehead against his. “I’m… really happy,” she laughed.

“Me too,” Byleth said. “Truly.”

“I’m so excited!” Mercedes half whispered, grabbing Byleth cloak and flapping it, even though it made her arm ache a little. “There’s so much we can do now… I can’t wait to go to the market!”

Byleth quirked an eyebrow. “We’ve gone to the market before.”

“Yes, well…” Blushing, Mercedes ducked her head and murmured something unintelligible.

“What?”

“I always wanted to cling to your arm when walking through the market!” Mercedes admitted, smiling despite herself.

Byleth didn’t seem to quite understand that. “Oh. I… look forward to that?”

Mercedes laughed and fell back on the bed. She sighed, heart fluttering in her chest. She felt electric, like she could do anything.

Byleth smiled at her. “I never thought about what it would be like to… court, before.” He looked at her for clarity. “Court? Is that… what you’d like to do?”

Mercedes shrugged. “I just like being with you.”

“Huh.” Byleth’s cheek colored again. “I see. Well, I never thought about what that entails. I suppose… I’m looking forward to when you can teach again. That will certainly be interesting.”

“Hm!” She thought about it. “I imagine the class will be quite surprised!” Mercedes figured that from the outside, they must seem like such opposites; him so dark and stoic, her so light and soft. She couldn’t imagine anyone would expect such a couple.

“Maybe,” he said. “Though I doubt we’d ever hear the end of it.”

“Oh,” Mercedes could picture it. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell them.”

Byleth held up a hand. “It happened a minute ago. No need to trouble ourselves so soon over whether to keep it secret.”

“That’s true. For now, let’s relax.”

Byleth was willing to be hers. She repeated it to herself. Hope tingled on her lips. They may have been brought together by their positions, but what they made was entirely theirs.

They enjoyed each other’s company into the night until Mercedes was about to fall asleep. Byleth left for his room, holding his tablecloth to his chest. She clingingly wondered if he was thinking of her after he closed the door.

Chapter Text

Mercedes woke up the next morning before any staff arrived. The morning sun had barely risen in the window. Usually, sleepiness lingered and clouded her mind after waking up, but she found her eyes open easily and her mind alert, even though her body was sluggish.

Without her thinking about it, her hand touched the wound on her stomach. No black oozing, only bandages and the sensitive line of patched skin across her naval. She pitied herself that she had to check, as if she was a child checking their closets and beds for monsters. When she was a child, she developed a habit of identifying the exits of a room as soon as she woke up. It was distant, in the back of her conscious, but this reminded her of that.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes.

She sat up, her shoulders popping slightly. Stretching her legs would be good for her, she thought, but as soon as she did it shocked her nerves and made her muscles hurt. Her mouth was dry, and she noticed the sink on the other side of the room.

The dryness in her mouth had a touch of bitterness in it. She swallowed and pushed it out of her mind.

Come on Mercedes. You can do it.

She set her feet on the floor and pushed off the bed to stand up. Her balance was wobbly, and a wave of lightheadedness hit her. She started walking, concentrating on each step. Her feet felt like they were supporting more weight than they ever had in her life.

She was supposed to move back to her room today, and realized that meant she would see the rest of the Monastery again. She thought of what they would have to tell her after her time away, or if-

As her mind wandered, her clumsy feet tripped over themselves and she stumbled forward and fell to the floor. She yelped and folded her arms to protect herself. She banged her elbows and knees on the floor, almost toppling on her side. Her head was swimming all at once. She sucked in a breath.

That hurt, she thought to herself. Good try, though.

She managed to crawl back onto her bed, content to rest the rest of the morning. Not much else to do, she closed her eyes and performed her morning prayers. Recovering her body was among them.

Mercedes was very familiar with hopelessness. She’d spent her teenage years empty inside, carrying an invisible weight on her shoulders from the moment she woke up, and feeling like there was no meaning in anything she did. She had just wanted to cry, all the time. She was better now- so much better. But, sometimes, she still felt the allure of that familiar emptiness. Where nothing could help, where her face would tremble but no tears would come out, and she could only curl up in her bed and sleep.

She’d been feeling it lately. Not always, but more than usual.

She added a prayer for the recovery of her mind.

—

She was eating breakfast when Byleth came to help move out of the wing. She was honestly disappointed she couldn’t get up and kiss him. He walked over to her.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning. Missed you.” She took his hand in hers and kissed it, more quick and easy than the night before.

His adorable bashful face returned. “Uh- Well, I’m glad to see you haven’t changed your mind.” He squeezed her hand. “How do you feel?”

“About the same. You wouldn’t mind carrying me to my dorm, would you?” She smiled playfully.

“I wouldn’t, but let’s try some other ideas first.” He leaned closer. “And emotionally?”

Mercedes blinked. “Sorry?”

“How do you feel this morning, emotionally?”

“Oh,” Mercedes said. “Um, I’m fine. Thank you for asking.” She would normally ask, Why wouldn’t I be?, but her circumstances were far from normal. And she had confessed to Byleth last night, and had her feelings returned. She ought to be fine after that. Byleth was just being extra sweet by checking in.

Byleth looked at her for a beat. “Good.”

“What about you?”

“I’m just a little tired.” He rubbed his hand on his face. “I was up late last night grading papers.”

“I thought you canceled written assignments until I was back teaching?” Was she remembering that wrong?

“I changed my mind. I didn’t want the students to lose their momentum.”

“Oh! You should have brought them to me, I would have helped.”

“You were practically asleep when I left last night. You needed rest.”

“You could have brought them earlier. How much extra work have you been doing since I’ve been away?” She waited for an answer.

“...It comes with the territory.”

She puffed her cheeks and took both his hands. “Well, now that we’re together, I will never let you overwork yourself again. So enjoy it while you can!”

“I understand.” He linked their hands. “However, you’re always telling people not to overwork themselves. That applies to you, too. You are still in recovery. Should I have brought in assignments and expected you to work?”

Mercedes sighed. “That’s a fair point.” She wiggled her fingers. “I like how your gloves feel.”

Byleth smirked. “I like how your hair looks.”

Mercedes blushed. It didn’t feel like they’d only been officially in a relationship since last night; It already felt like they’d been together this whole time.

—

He helped her walk back to her dorm, her arm over his shoulders as she leaned on him and walked in tandem. Mercedes had a blanket wrapped around her over her hospital gown for lack of a change of clothes. They got a few looks and waves from students, but it was early enough on a Sunday that no one who knew Mercedes well enough to do so had stopped them.

They reached her door. Opening it revealed it was the same as she remembered it, except Professor Manuela was standing in it, putting something on her counter.

She and Byleth exchanged glances. “Excuse me?” She asked.

“Oh!” Manuela startled and turned to face them. “Oh, you startled me. I didn’t think you’d be here so early.”

“What are you doing here?” Byleth asked.

“I’m laying out Mercedes’s medications.” On the counter were about a dozen bottles and salves. “It is my specialty, but it’s…” She took a long inhale through her nose and glared. “Far too early for me.”

They moved Mercedes onto her bed. She’d managed the trip fine, but her muscles were exhausted and aching once she sat down.

“You know, Mercedes. I never got the chance to share my condolences.” Manuela looked at her earnestly. “I think you’re a sweet girl and, well, I know it’s no fun being stabbed. My shoulder still flares, and it’s killing me slowly.”

“Right,” Mercedes remembered Manuela had been stabbed during Flayn’s rescue. “Huh. Two of the four professors here have been stabbed. How about that.”

“I’ve been stabbed,” Byleth added. “Hanneman’s the only professor who hasn’t been stabbed.”

“And he’s the oldest, too,” Mercedes said. “So not only is he the only one of us who hasn’t been stabbed, but he’s made it the longest without being stabbed as well.”

“What a jerk,” Manuela grumbled. She handed Mercedes a clipboard from the counter. “Anyway, here’s a chart of the when’s and which’s.”

Mercedes looked over a list explaining what time to take each medication on a daily and weekly basis. The times and names blurred together as Mercedes read them. It was an overwhelming idea to remember all of it each day, and she worried about the consequences of missing a dose.

Byleth scanned it over her shoulder. She saw him nod to himself. He was always much better at organization than her. She handed it to him.

“Oh, while I have you- Goddess, my blasted...” Manuela rubbed her forehead, eyes scrunched closed. Mercedes knew what was likely the cause of her pain, but she didn’t want to be rude as to mention it. “Since you have limited mobility, the infirmary is sending you a personal attendant to help you with daily tasks, unless you already have someone willing to do it.”

Mercedes took in the information. “Uh- Okay…”

Manuela looked down at her. “So is there someone who’d be willing to do that?”

Mercedes looked at Byleth. Byleth looked at her, thinking the same thing.

“I can do it,” Byleth said.

Manuela turned to him and chuckled. “Really?”

“I would be more comfortable with Byleth helping me throughout the day, yes,” Mercedes said. “We spend a lot of time together normally, so it’s already convenient.”

Manuela raised an eyebrow at Byleth. “You’re going to help her get dressed?”

Byleth looked straight forward, avoiding eye contact. “...Yes.”

Manuela narrowed her eyes and smirked. “Okay. I’ll let the infirmary staff know.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Mercedes awkwardly nodded.

“M-hm.” Byleth said.

Manuela walked out, still smirking, and closed the door behind her.

Silence filled the room. Wordlessly, Byleth walked over to the counter and started organizing the medications. Mercedes rubbed her aching arms, forced to confront the inevitable. She knew for most people, being undressed by the person they loved would be… exciting, for the same reason she was nervously running through her head. It was considered a given, something everyone wants... except her.

Growing up, Mercedes thought that men and women could look lovely; As she became an adult, however, the line between thinking someone is charming, and wanting to spend the night with them, became clear. They were worlds apart. She drew out coming to the conclusion as long as she could, waiting for something to change, until there was no more room for denial. Mercedes was not interested in having sex. In her opinion, there were so many better ways to be intimate with someone other than… that.

Byleth turned back to her.

“I organized the healing potions,” Byleth said. “We should probably get you changed so the students can see you're alright.”

“Right,” Mercedes went along, trying to act normal. “The sooner the better, after all.” She pointed at her drawer. “I keep my clothes in there.”

Byleth retrieved her typical button up top and blue skirt and knelt down in front of her. “Let me know if you get uncomfortable.”

“Of course.”

She was about to be dressed. She was about to be dressed because she couldn’t do it on her own.

Mercedes didn’t know what to do with herself as he lifted the hem of her hospital gown over her waist. Even if it was Byleth, being bare in front of someone for the first time was extremely daunting. She blushed as her underwear was revealed, and looked to the side as Byleth lifted the gown over her head.

She felt the air on her stomach and thighs. She was suddenly very aware of each inch of her body; Her scars, her stretch marks, and of course the line of bandages over her stab wound. How she looked in just her white bra and panties was in completely plain view. She placed her hands on her lap. She glanced at Byleth as he unfolded her skirt, and wondered with dread what he was thinking. If he had… opinions about anything he was seeing.

His face was blank focus. Of course it was. It was Byleth. She reminded herself, again, that there was nothing sexual about this.

But… They were courting. Or, at least, their version of courting. If later down the line, Byleth did want sex out of a devoted relationship… and Mercedes couldn’t… she just couldn’t… where would that leave her? It was an anxiety inducing thought.

Byleth held her skirt as she stepped her feet in it, and carefully, he pulled it up her legs until it reached where she was sitting. Byleth looked up at her, his head uncomfortably close to her- Mercedes swallowed. Despite her embarrassment, every moment she was frigid she drew the situation out. She placed her hands on the bed and pushed off them, leaning forward enough to lift her bottom from the bed, avoiding eye contact like her life depended on it. Byleth pulled the skirt over her butt, his hands grazing over it, and Mercedes felt her face burn like it was on fire. She quickly sat back down.

She was tense all over. What if this went wrong? What if she was doing something wrong without realizing?

Shame flooded through her. She felt perverted and dirty, even though she didn't choose this. What was wrong with her that made this so scary? Why couldn't she be normal about this?

“Can you button your skirt yourself?” Byleth asked.

Mercedes looked down and started fiddling with the buttons. “Y-yes, I, uh…” She forgot how to speak.

Byleth’s face softened. “Are you okay?”

Mercedes looked at him like she’d been caught.

“You look distraught," Byleth clarified.

Mercedes blushed deeper and pressed her lips together, looking down. “Byleth, I…”

Byleth came to her eye level. “Is it your wound? Or something else?”

Mercedes sucked in a breath and gave up on her skirts buttons. “I, um, think it’s important for you to know, since we’re in a relationship, that…” She swallowed.

She was fine. Byleth wouldn’t hurt her, and she was allowed to have boundaries. Still, the words were stuck in her throat as though she was forbidden to discuss them. This was not where she would prefer to have this conversation- A picnic on a grassy field, for example; Relaxing, comfortable, that would be much more pleasant than shirtless in her room.

“I won’t have sex,” she held his gaze. “Ever.”

Byleth was silent, a surprised expression on his face. Mercedes felt like she should say more, explain herself, excuse herself for this failing, but what she’d said was enough. It was all Byleth really needed to know on the subject, and however he reacted... even if it broke her heart, it was out of her hands.

Byleth considered what she’d said, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“That’s not a problem,” he finally said.

Mercedes’s mouth dropped. “R-Really?”

“I’m not interested in sex. For some reason, I’m just not.” He looked into her eyes. “I thought it was just me.”

Mercedes sighed in a mix of awe and relief. She felt the tension leave her body. “I- I was so worried-” Her voice wavered. “But you- you also…?”

Byleth nodded. “I was hoping it would just never come up. But this is… better.” He shook his head. “No, I don’t. I don’t understand why people do it.”

“I wish I told you sooner,” Mercedes sighed. “Even a minute ago. This would have been… so much less awkward if that wasn’t hanging over us.”

“Yeah.” Byleth rubbed the back of his neck, quickly glancing down at her chest. “Yeah.”

Mercedes suddenly remembered her state of undress. “Oh! Let’s finish that.”

“Right,” Byleth grabbed and unfolded her shirt. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he said, “When did you figure that out about yourself?”

Mercedes fixed her skirt’s buttons. “It was a long process. A lonely one, too.”

Byleth nodded. “My mercenary crew didn’t understand why I never went off for the night at towns or inns. I know what you mean.”

Mercedes hummed and held out her arms. “I think Manuela might have the wrong idea, though.”

“Oh, definitely.” Byleth said blankly, fitting one arm into the shirt sleeve. “Can you turn around?”

Mercedes did. Byleth fit the other arm into her shirt and pulled her hair out from under the collar. As Mercedes started buttoning the shirt, she felt Byleth wrap his arms around her waist and place his hands over hers.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, resting his head over her shoulder.

Mercedes giggled and nodded. Byleth pulled her close and passionately kissed her cheek, then planted a kiss on the side of her head. Both were stiff and dry- Byleth probably didn't have much experience kissing.

Flattered and off the high of relief, Mercedes cupped his face and planted a dozen quick kisses across his face in rapid succession. She gazed into his eyes, holding his face. Byleth let out a breath, eyes blown. It was funny how the The Ashen Demon, wielder of the Sword of The Creator, who single-handedly could wipe out entire enemy legions, was rendered speechless after a barrage of kisses. In Mercedes’s defense, he had a very kissable face.

“I want you to know,” she said, “I feel so wonderfully happy to have found you.”

“Me too,” Byleth said as he finished buttoning her shirt and rested his head against hers. “Me too.”

—

She thought of all the doubt that weighed on her over the years. She'd been told no one would want a relationship with her if she wasn't willing to bear children. That it was her lot in life to be married off and give crest babies to an arranged husband.

She smiled to herself that, even a little bit, that was proven wrong.

It was after dinner, and she was sitting at her desk in her room, looking through the letters and gifts that the students and monastery residents had given her. Most of the letters were written with the sentiment of "get well soon!" and such. She had been practically swarmed when she sat down to eat. She greatly appreciated it, truly, but her social battery was drained. That almost never happened to Mercedes.

Byleth was called to talk to Seteth about something, but he'd be back later that night. Mercedes had asked him to stay in her room that night; She had wanted to ask him the night she confessed, but was worried he would misinterpret it. Now though, she didn’t have to worry. A smile met her lips as she thought of it.

She looked at a bouquet of flowers a student had given her, and felt a tickle in her throat. She coughed into her hand. She almost didn't think twice of it.

Then, in the back of her throat, she tasted the familiar, metallic bitterness.

Her heart stopped.

She looked at her hand.

It was a drop of black, shining off the dim light in the room. Just the same as before. It was unmistakable. She'd just coughed out a drop of the black ooze.

There it was on her stomach- the pain of her skin tearing itself open, the weight of the warm, slimy ooze growing and growing as it came out of her- it wasn't happening, that wound was sealed, it was just a drop- but she felt it. It was all she could see.

And it was on her hand. It was all over her.

No- No- No-

She frantically thought of whatever could get it off her, remembered the handkerchief in her pocket, and in a rush whipped it out and forcefully wiped it across her hand. She bunched the rag with her fist and bolted out of her chair- Her legs immediately gave out under her, but she caught herself on her desk, and balanced herself enough to stand up. Leaning on her furniture, she fled across her room, heaving each breath. Her muscles burned and her bones felt like they were cracking with each step until finally, she threw the handkerchief out in her room's garbage bin.

She panted. Her head pounded to the heavy beat of the drum in her chest.

She looked at the handkerchief in the bin, and then at her reflection in the mirror.

Slowly, she hopelessly crumpled to the floor.

She couldn't handle this on her own, she couldn't comfort herself, she couldn’t use any kind of reason. Not for this.

Do you see now? A part of her thought. You thought you could get better, but it's never over. Never over.

Never. over.