Anchor

Edelgard found Byleth at the edge of Derdriu's port, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon beyond the vast expanse of dark water. Behind them, in the city proper, the Imperial forces were dealing with the remnants of the battle–treating the wounded and gathering the dead. But here the lapping of the waves drowned shouting and crying alike.

"There you are." Edelgard's nose wrinkled as a breeze filled her nostrils with the briny scent of fish and seaweed. "You disappeared after Hubert's tactical report."

"Sorry," Byleth murmured without turning to look at her.

"We've obtained documents that should help us secure our position in Alliance territory while we move north against Faerghus. I'd like you to review them with us." Byleth only nodded. Edelgard was certainly accustomed to her professor's taciturn nature, but Byleth always looked her in the eye when they spoke. She was never this distant. At least not with her. "Professor," she chided, "there isn't time to waste idling."

Byleth let out a long breath. "There's enough time to spend a few minutes honouring Claude, don't you think?"

"Oh. I didn't realize..." Edelgard bowed her head. "I'm sorry to have interrupted."

"This was his kingdom, his home."

Edelgard stood there by Byleth's side, but she could not bring herself to linger on Claude's fate. He had given his life for the good of his people; she would have done the same if their positions had been reversed. That much she accepted. But the one thought she could not bear was that Byleth might have regrets–about this path. About...

"I should go," Edelgard said. "Come and find me when–"

"El..."

More than the interruption–which would have been unthinkable from anyone else; people did not interrupt the Emperor–it was that name that stopped her. The name used only by the people who had loved her the most.

Byleth had turned those vivid green eyes on her now. Edelgard's breath caught. It was embarrassing how easily affected she was by a simple look, a single word from her dear professor. She cleared her throat. "What is it, my teacher?"

"I've been thinking about anchors."

Edelgard's brow furrowed. "Anchors?"

Byleth nodded. "When I returned, Dorothea said that I'd been your anchor."

"Ah. That." Edelgard could feel herself flushing and hoped Byleth would attribute it to the cool breeze.

"Without an anchor a ship can't go to port. It either drifts or has to keep moving." One eyebrow arched, just as it always had during her lectures when she was about to drive home her point. "Like you."

"It is a war, Professor. Moving forward is the only option. The longer this conflict goes on, the more blood will be spilled. There's no time for doubts. For..."

"Idling?" Byleth deadpanned–and Edelgard couldn't quite tell if it was a joke.

"Yes. Exactly."

Crossing her arms, Byleth nodded, her expression sober. "I see. So idling and gorging on sweets is definitely out then."

Ah a joke then. Edelgard found herself smiling–the memory of that conversation from so many years ago when she'd confessed to daydreaming about free time. "You remember that."

"Of course I do. And what you told me that day."

That she had chased away the darkness. That she had let her be herself, not just the Emperor. It had been hard to have that for such a short time and then be left alone once again, the weight of the Empire resting solely on her shoulders.

Edelgard turned to look out at the lapping waves, foamy breakers frothing and pooling around the port walls and quays. It reminded Edelgard of Byleth herself. When they had first met, she had been like the sea: her stormy eyes and dark hair, the ferociousness just below the surface. And then she had changed, become like the pale sea foam, calm, insubstantial, but somehow gently surrounding her.

"You're right," Edelgard said without taking her eyes from the water. "As you always are. Without you there was no respite, no safe haven. Only an endless ocean in every direction."

She glanced over as she felt the barest touch on her arm. Byleth had turned to face her and instinctively Edelgard found herself pivoting towards her as well. "I'm sorry," Byleth said. She bowed her head, pale hair falling around her face and Edelgard had to restrain the urge to reach out and push it back. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

Edelgard shook her head. "Don't apologize. You had no choice." Byleth's features shifted ever so slightly and Edelgard wondered what turbulent thoughts troubled her. Resentment towards those who had manipulated her? Doubts about the path they were on? Regrets about what they had done together? "You've had so few choices in all of this, haven't you?"

It was as if the words had banished the storm clouds of Byleth's thoughts and replaced them with calm skies. She smiled. "I got to make the choice that truly mattered."

Byleth's gaze fixed her like a mooring line. She could not look away from those green eyes as she spoke, even as her heart seemed determined to claw its way up her throat. "And would you make that same choice again?"

"El..." Byleth reached out and, for the merest beat, squeezed Edelgard's hand. "I make it every day."

Edelgard's breath caught. Her whole chest seemed to seize up as a swell of gratitude and affection washed over her and swept away all her reserve and all of her words. She was adrift in Byleth's gaze and the warmth of her smile.

Byleth spoke again before Edelgard could regain her composure. "You were my anchor too, you know."

For a moment the lapping of the waves filled the air, keeping time, counting down the seconds before Edelgard could whisper, "How so?"

"Our promise to meet again at the millennium festival, it was what anchored me in time. It was why Sothis was able to wake me."

Edelgard could hear war reports detailing slaughter and destruction and remain perfectly cool, but Byleth's words filled her veins with heat, made her pulse skip like a stone over the surface of still water.

A smile tugged at the corners of Byleth's lips. "I only wish..."

"That we'd agreed to meet sooner?" Edelgard finished, her lips curving into a smile of her own.

She nodded. "Next time we'll know better."

A riptide of fear threatened to leave her adrift again. Dorothea had been right: Byleth did so much to anchor her, to offer her safe port to rest her heart between the angry tides of war. She couldn't bear the thought of losing that again. Yet she knew there were risks. Byleth's power had come from the Church's tampering. If they defeated Rhea there was no telling what the effect might be on the professor. "I certainly hope there won't be a next time."

"Perhaps we should make a promise just in case."

"To meet after the war?" Edelgard said, eyebrows raised.

"Immediately after the war," Byleth amended. She held out her palm. "Promise?"

Edelgard reached out and placed her gloved hand into that open palm. "I promise."

Byleth's smile was radiant. "Good. I'll have something to give you then." Her free hand patted the pocket of her coat. Edelgard's raised eyebrows resulted only in a silly grin on her normally serious professor's face.

That smile calmed Edelgard's turbulent fears. It heartened her to know that while storms of battle and bloodshed lay ahead, there would be moments of calm seas in between. She had somewhere to anchor her hopes, her dreams of a better world. And a future of idle days.

The End