AN: (Cross-posted on AO3)

This is my first fic in this fandom. I have many Edelbert headcanons, but for some reason, I couldn't finish writing any of them until now. Hopefully, I can write more in the future, since I'm dying of thirst for Edelbert content!

I decided to write Edelbert living amongst the commoners in this fic because I think they would've liked to see the fruits of their reforms first-hand. I also can't imagine them just lazing around at home, even though Edelgard says that's her dream life. I can't see her leeching off her hereditary fortunes. And yes, I did incorporate some elements from the Edelys ending where their "crest curse" is removed. I'm also a huge fan of Edelys, so hopefully I can write something for that ship as well in the future.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Tags: established relationship, married couple, post-canon, crimson flower route, POV outsider, narrator is an old lady who ships Edelbert, long introduction before Edelbert appears, period typical attitudes

A Commoner's Diary

I am an old woman. There is no point for me to learn to write.

When my son joined the Imperials on their unholy war fifteen years ago, citing lofty reasons like our "freedom" and "future", I thought he was stupid. "The Emperor will make us equal to the nobles. We can all learn to write!" he said with sparkles in his eyes, almost like he was a child again and his Pa just carved him a toy horse. But this was no game. "Silly Boy, what use do you have for writing when you'd be a cold corpse?" I pleaded to him. It didn't work. The next morning, he was gone, and I wouldn't see him until years later.

I would never forget that day. It was the Harpstring Moon. There had been rumours buzzling around our village that the Holy Kingdom had fallen. It meant little to us folks in Leicester who won the war, alas, its end was a relief, if only my son would now come home. I was desperate for news, but also afraid of it – many of our neighbours whose sons had also joined the Imperial Army had been informed of their deaths in Arianrhod. They had not been given details, but it must've been bloody. All of Fódlan knew Lady Cornelia was a blessed saint who cured a plague, attacking her was bound to incur the Goddess' wrath. The cursed streak of light we saw headed for the northwest must've been the heaven's flames sent to punish them. I had been told my son had left Arianrhod before that, en-route to fight in Tailtean. I still expected the worst. Tailtean was the holy ground where Saint Seiros had once defeated the fell King Nemesis; how could the blasphemous Imperials win this time against the Archbishop and the believers of Faerghus? Even after hearing of the Imperials' victory, I could hardly believe it. It must've come at a steep price. Hopefully, that price did not include my son's life.

"They are back! They are back!" I heard urgent shouts outside. I moved out of the house and saw everyone running towards the sound of trumpets in the distance. Following them, I came to the main road that connected our village with the Great Bridge of Myrddin in the west and Derdriu in the east. The procession was coming from the west, banners of red and gold fluttering as they passed. The Imperials had really won the war. And there, amongst the marching foot soldiers, was my son.

That Harpstring Moon was the start of our new lives. Fódlan has been united under the Adrestian Empire. My son took me to Enbarr the following Garland Moon to attend the celebrations – the first time I travelled in my life. Everything was dazzling, perhaps too dazzling for a peasant who only knew how to work the soil. But the joy in the air was infectious. When the white-haired Emperor took down her war crown and replaced it with a crown of peace, the cheers were deafening. In the young people's smiles, I found a glimmer of hope reignited in my chest.

Change was slow. The first few years under Adrestian rule had not been significantly different from before. There were few groans from the heavier taxes, but our village had not suffered from war damage, so we were mostly willing to give what we had to rebuild towns and cities that had been less fortunate. Besides, the new tools imported from Varley made our work easier, yielding larger harvests. We were plentiful in the winter and that was all that mattered.

My son had learned basic arithmetic during his time in the army that earned him a job at the local lord's household. He came home one day with such excitement I thought he had finally found a girl willing to marry him!

"I am not getting married, Ma!" He whined. "But this is even better! A teacher from the Capital is coming to the village. We will have a school here!"

"Why, that is wonderful! You have always wanted to go to school, right?"

"Not just me, Ma. You will learn too!"

"Me? Oh, don't be silly. That is time and effort wasted on an old woman. They should just teach young people like you."

"Well, it is true that the teacher cannot teach everyone. They are starting with those who already have some basics, and I am lucky enough to have been chosen as the first batch of students. But I must then teach my friends and family. They will teach their friends and family. This is an imperial decree!"

Who was I to question the Emperor's orders? By day, my son went to school. We might've gotten a subsidy from Enbarr, but the amount was small compared to what he could've made at his old job, and the burden fell onto me to feed the two of us. It was hard, but I managed. By night, my son taught me to write. At first, I was disinterested. I saw no need for learning, and it was so difficult when I was already exhausted from a day on the fields. But later, I started to see its use. Times were changing. Our village saw more trade. It became important for us to learn about the outside world, and the only way to obtain that information was to read. I learned about what was happening at the Capital, what customs were practised in the distant land of Duscur, I read the imperial mages' predictions for the weather and covered my fields in time to protect them from incoming storms. It was a fascinating new world. I also started writing, and this is how I now spend the free time I have, my son sustaining our living as a teacher at the new school. When my son taught me to write, he gave me the assignment of keeping a diary. Since then, I have been writing about what is around me. No matter how mundane my life is, this has become a self-indulgent hobby.

Lately, one of my favourite subjects to write about is the couple who moved into Arcas' old home after he and his daughter departed for Derdriu. They came a few months after the crowning of Leicester's beloved Lady Lysithea as the new Emperor. What a strange pair they are! They came from the Capital, so maybe we country bumpkins just can't keep up with the times and think them eccentric for what is simply fashionable. The man's name is Hubert; he originally came to fill one of the teaching posts at the school but ended up working as a translator for the Merchant's Guild. I think he might've scared off the students. After all, he is absurdly tall, but so pale and thin – he looks like a vampire from the novels my son has bought for me to read! He keeps growing out his unruly black hair and has to be reminded by his wife to cut it. Surely, the hair would obstruct his vision, wouldn't it? I have no clue how he manages not to walk into walls! The children are convinced he is a giant bat that hangs upside down from his ceiling when he sleeps. For every child who is terrified by him, there is one who adores him instead. Too many parents have complained about their brats wrapping themselves in tablecloth, smirking while imitating Hubert's signature "ku ku ku" chuckle. Thank the Goddess my son has long outgrown that stage!

As Hubert is often out at work, I interact more with his wife, El. El must be the most gorgeous little lady I've ever seen in my life; if not for how frightening Hubert's glare could be, I reckon the boys would be gawking at her all day! But poor El is also the most helpless little thing I've ever met. Nearly burned down her house the first week she moved in when she "tried to cook" – I never found out what she was attempting to make from the charred mess I discovered when I barged in through the front door. She can't tell weeds from the crops she planted, lost all her chickens when she forgot to put them inside at night…twice! The only thing she is good at is chopping firewood. I don't know where she hides that monstrous strength in her tiny frame. The way she wields an axe makes me think she can split a whole wagon into two clean halves!

On this day in the Garland Moon, El is visiting – I insisted on teaching her how to make a white rose garland for her husband who would be returning with a trade party for the celebrations on the 22nd in honour of the previous Emperor. It's the least I could do to thank her for the big pile of firewood she helped me prepare yesterday. Besides, I worry for her relationship with her husband. Hubert is always away for his work, yet El seems to have no sense of the potential danger! She must be overconfident because of her looks. How gullible. Men call women fickle, but they are by far worse when it comes to romance! They would soon be bored of your face no matter how beautiful it may be! You must give them a reason to come home, else they would fly away like a bird!

"Back when Leukas was alive, I would always weave him a garland when he came home in this season. It is a symbol of our union, you see?"

El nods, though I wonder if she is really listening, seeing as she is biting her lips in pained concentration while she tries to close the garland with her clumsy fingers. You'd imagine El's fingers to be long and slim from her prim appearances, but no, they are thick, scarred, capped by stubby, crooked nails. And they are trembling now. They don't even tremble after chopping a cart full of firewood, but tremble when closing a flower garland! Oh dear, how did this girl even find a husband?

"Ah!" El yelps as she tears yet another garland just before completion, the flowers falling miserably onto the dining table. She sighs. "This is too hard, my dear teacher. I fear I simply lack the talent."

"Ridiculous! There is no such thing as an untalented woman – there are just those who are lazy! And if you are lazy, then don't complain when your man gets stolen by another!"

"I…suppose you are right."

She says this while looking entirely unconvinced, maybe even a bit bothered. Young people these days. I picked up the garland I made as an example and arranged it on El's head, fitting the roses onto her smooth, pale brown hair.

"I know you young people don't like to listen to us old folks. Think we're always nagging. But if you don't listen now, by the time you find that we are right, it would already be too late." I pass her a copper mirror so she could see herself wearing the rose garland. "Even if you don't care for what I said, wouldn't you want Hubert to wear the same garland as you? Think about it. I don't believe there is a woman in this world who wouldn't be even a tiny bit possessive towards her man. You feel the same way about Hubert, don't you? Imagine him wearing a crown of your love, a crown that encircles him, keeps him to you and you alone…"

My words seem to have some effect, as El lowers her head and I can see a light blush appear on the sides of her cheeks.

"I will try another time," she says, picking out a rose from the basket to start again.

…

The day after is the 21st, also the day Hubert's trade party is scheduled to return. Spring planting has already been completed last moon, so I have little else to do on this rainy day. El doesn't like the rain – she once mentioned offhand that it reminds her of tragedy. When people grow old enough, we all have our own collection of tragedies, so I haven't pressed El on hers. I head over to her house to keep her company as she waits for Hubert to come home.

The skies outside are grey. Few people walk on the street as rain drizzles, leaving a calming patter on the windows.

"I hope the imperial mages' forecast is correct and it will be sunny tomorrow. I'm looking forward to the festivities," I say.

El looks up from the scarf she is knitting. Like I said, both Hubert and she are rather strange. Who would knit a scarf in spring?

"It comes to me as a surprise that the people of Leicester would celebrate the previous Emperor's birthday," she says quietly, like there is something she is ashamed of. "Did she not invade this country?"

"Are you asking as an Adrestian by birth? Feel bad for conquering us?" I laugh, not in a chiding way but I merely find the thought funny. "If you were gonna feel bad, you should've done it before everything happened. Overthrow that white-haired Emperor before the war even started, just like the insurrection of her daddy. There's no point in regrets, Child."

"I…do not regret."

"Oh?"

"No, I do not regret," she repeats. "I do not regret the war."

"So, you think it right that Adrestia conquered Leicester? Conquered Faerghus?"

"I think it right for corruption to be stamped out in all Fódlan, and everyone be afforded equal opportunity to succeed."

El can sound strangely commanding at times. Maybe that's why Hubert always trails half a step behind her. I thought about warning El from being so domineering towards her husband, but maybe Hubert is a masochist? My, my, I should keep this to myself.

"You can convince my son with those words, but I am old and clueless – I can't understand half of what you just said! But I do like how neighbours wouldn't fight each other over whether to side with or against the Empire now. We all want peace. A lasting peace, not an occasional bout here, another raid there. Doesn't matter who are on those fancy chairs, in Enbarr, Derdriu, or Fhirdiad. If we have plenty to eat and our children can grow old just like we have, we're happy. What else would one want in life?"

El nods her understanding, falling silent again while she turns her attention back to the scarf. It's a bit of a mess, the stitching uneven with gaping holes in some sections and tight knots in others. Goddess, it is so dismal to look at, but seeing how hard El is working on it, even I can't get myself to point out the flaws.

"This is the first year into your marriage with Hubert, huh?" I ask.

"Yes," she answers, somewhat timid. "Is it so easy to tell?"

I roll my eyes. "You are knitting him a scarf half a year early."

"I want to do…everything…with him. Everything that a husband and wife would do. But I must appear embarrassingly eager, don't I?"

"I'd say you're hardly eager enough!" I exclaim, recalling how they don't even hold hands in public. "Your husband is more popular than you think, oddly enough. You have to defend your territory more overtly, understand? When he comes back, kiss him hard. Kiss him right there, on the street in front of your house, so all his secret admirers can see that he is taken and they don't stand a chance!"

El gives me another of her skeptical looks. "Did you really do that with Leukas when you were younger, Cassandra?"

"My Dear, we wouldn't have looked half as glamourous, so what would've been the point?"

Judging by El's expression, she does not appreciate my answer.

…

El paces around the living room. The trade party was supposed to return by early afternoon, but it is now approaching dinnertime, and they are still nowhere in sight. I catch her glancing in the direction of the window where she has peeled away the curtains, contrary to her usual habits. I'm sure the lantern lights poorly hidden around the street corners right by her home, despite the pelting rain that has set in, are doing little to ease her irritation. Like I said, Hubert is a popular boy! It is only expected he has a dedicated fanbase also waiting for his arrival.

"If you keep making such sharp turns around the living room, you will ruin your hair!" I warn. I'd hate to see her beautiful hair turn to a pitiful mess, especially not with my rose garland adorning it. In response to my words, El stops in her steps, but the action seems to be requiring considerable mental restraint as I then see her clench her teeth so hard that I fear they would crack. Thankfully, noises outside catches her attention, and out she runs right into the rain, the other garland she made herself clasped in her hands. What have I just said about her hair!? Her cloak is right by the door too!

I follow behind her. Indeed, the trade party has returned. Fathers sweep up their kids into their arms, lovers embrace and kiss. From the way El darted out, I would've thought she would pull Hubert by his arm, dip him down, and feast ravenously on his lips (how scandalous!). Instead, she just stands before him, head craned upwards to meet his gaze with hers.

"You are home," she states with a thin smile.

A similar smile lights Hubert's face. "I am. You have no reason to doubt I would not return before the festivities for…the previous emperor's birthday."

"I never doubted."

She hands him the garland and for the first time, I see the single eye not hidden by Hubert's hair widen in surprise.

"This is…?"

"It is the Garland Moon. Is it not custom for a woman to weave a garland of white roses for her lover?"

Am I seeing Hubert blush? My eyes aren't failing me in my old age, are they? Hubert stays silent. He doesn't move. He stands like the statue of a fool. El takes the garland back into her hands.

"Would you lower your head, Hubert?"

He bows to the command, letting El fit the garland onto him. Oh, their faces are so close. This is the perfect opportunity! I stare at El with as encouraging a gaze as I can find. She looks confused. I bring my thumbs up and crush them against each other. She ought to understand what I mean when I make it so obvious, right?

She frowns, but when something else catches her eyes – a group of young women in the near distance, looking Hubert's way with garlands in their hands too – her expression changes. She cups Hubert's chin and brings him down to her level so she can take his lips. This! I have been waiting to see this for so long! It is not quite as hungry as I imagined, maybe that would be better left behind closed doors, but the contact is nonetheless full and sincere. It starts with El kissing him, holding his lips in hers, moving against him, but Hubert's hesitance soon slips away when he wraps her in his arms, bringing her close, and returning the kiss with equal adoration. Young love, young love, so heartwarming! I clutch my chest. Ah…if only I could return to my youthful days and do the same with Leukas. It wouldn't be as picturesque. My mother might've clicked her tongue at such a shameless display. But still…how romantic it would've been!

El breaks away from the kiss. Their chests heave for breaths. El hides her swollen lips behind a palm, her other clutches Hubert's wrist.

"Dinner is ready. Let's go back inside," she says to him, dragging him to their house and slamming the front door behind them. The curtains close soon after. I am rather sure El did not prepare dinner in that very home I was visiting the entire day.

Or does she mean a meal of a different kind? Goddess, forgive me for the images my mind have just conjured. I merely wish their beautiful love would bear fruit! Truly, that is my greatest concern!