So while writing this story, I basically ended up writing two different versions of this one scene. The two conversations were supposed to take place one after another, but I decided that it made the scene drag on too long, so I cut this one. However, since I liked it, I felt bad about cutting it out, so I'm just posting it here in case anyone wants to see it.

Months go by. They fight against their enemies, again, and again, conquering Fódlan one piece at a time, all for the sake of Edelgard's ideals, for the sake of a better world. Sacrificing to create a world where sacrifice isn't needed, destroying in order to create. No matter how paradoxical it may seem, he doesn't falter, not once. He can't afford to, not when so many are relying on him.

He's crossed blades with many former allies at this point. He does everything in his power to keep casualties to a minimum, convincing Edelgard to let Claude go free, speaking with Flayn and Seteth to convince them not to follow Rhea in her mad crusade and go into hiding. He gives everything he has in every battle, knowing that every enemy he defeats, every life he ends, brings the war closer to an end, brings Edelgard's dream closer to becoming a reality.

Byleth is on the edge of the cemetery, resting his arms on the balcony overlooking it as he stares down at the gravestone that marks the resting place of both his parents. He's made it a point to visit the grave and pay his respects whenever he gets the chance, sometimes accompanied by Alois or Leonie, but today is different. He doesn't approach the grave, or even walk down the stairs, his feet completely unwilling to move from that spot.

The world Edelgard creates will be better. He's certain of this. But if they fail…

"Professor?"

A voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he turns to see Edelgard approaching him. She gives him a look of concern and he offers her a small smile in return.

"Did you need me for something, Edelgard?" He nearly trips over her name as he says it, but catches himself. She had asked him to call her 'El', but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to do so quite yet. It's not that he's not happy she would trust him enough to ask him to call her by a name that clearly holds so many precious memories, but in a way, using that name casually when she places so much importance on it feels...wrong. He feels like he's been trusted with a secret, and if he lets it slip past his lips, he'll be betraying her confidence.

She shakes her head as she goes to stand beside him, staring out at the sky with him as she leans on the balcony herself. "No, I… I was just going for a walk to clear my head, and then I came across you." Edelgard hesitates for a moment before speaking again. "Are you okay? You seem troubled."

Byleth sighs. "I remember back when no one was able to tell what I was thinking. Maybe I'vebeen getting more emotive lately."

"Or perhaps I've just gotten better at reading you," Edelgard says, with a small smirk tugging at her lips.

He chuckles. "Maybe so…" He looks up at the sky for a moment before he speaks up again, quietly. "I've… been thinking a lot lately."

"About what?"

"About what we'll do after we win this war… and what will happen if we lose…" he says.

Edelgard turns away from him. "Ah...I see."

"I believe in what we're fighting for," he goes on. "But… with the future of Fódlan riding on our backs, I can't help but wonder what's at stake." He sighs. "Sorry, I know you probably don't need to hear this, especially from me."

"No!" Edelgard replies hastily. "I… I want you to speak your mind. I treasure your thoughts and advice, it's why I've been able to come this far without losing myself, and becoming the tyrant they try to paint me as."

Neither of them speak for some time, as they both stare solemnly up at the sky, enjoying what may be their last moment of peace for a long time.

"...So," he asks, mostly to break the silence. "What do you think will happen if we lose?"

It takes Edelgard a couple minutes to answer. "Well… I suppose things will just go back to the way they were, for the most part…"

"Though not exactly."

She nods. "Yes...now that the Alliance has folded into the Empire, the Kingdom will likely take over the Empire after their victory, and have complete control over Fódlan… along with the Church."

"So no matter who wins, Fódlan will be unified."

She gives a dry smirk at this. "Indeed it will."

"Fódlan will survive," he says, hoping to reassure her. "The people lived under the control of the Church for a thousand years… even if we lose, they'll go on living."

"If you could call that living…" Edelgard mutters. After a moment, she sighs and speaks up again, running a hand down her face. "I fear for the lives of my people if we should lose this…" she says. "There's no way that Rhea will allow those who sided with me to live if she wins. All of our allies will be killed, as will we, even if they should try to surrender… and I fear that she may take her anger out not only on the citizens of the Empire, but on all the people of Fódlan."

Byleth frowns. He thinks back to what Seteth told him when they fought. If even he was no longer willing to support Rhea, then…

"Dimitri will stop her if she goes too far," he offers, hoping to assuage her worries.

She nods in response. "Yes… Dimitri is a good man, and a just king. As long as he sits the throne, he'll keep Rhea in check," she says, though it sounds more like she's trying to convince herself.

"And Claude is still in Almyra," he adds. "If nothing else… I don't think he cares much for the Church. If we fall, he'll still be around to pick up the torch. Seteth will… also be there prevent Rhea from going too far," he says, though uncertainty creeps into his voice as he does. If Seteth and Flayn have gone into hiding after they retreated from the battle… then it's safe to assume that they've been reported dead. If they were to miraculously resurface after the war… would Rhea take it as a betrayal? Would they even want to return to Rhea's side after all is said and done? He can't answer with certainty.

"Yes… thank you, for convincing me to spare them," Edelgard says, pulling him from his thoughts. "I know that I am… too eager to resort to bloodshed at times. I'm truly lucky to have you at my side, to remind me of the value of a life."

Byleth smiles bitterly at this. "You think too highly of me. Back when I was a mercenary, I took countless lives without a second thought. It wasn't until I came here… until I met you, that I started to think about why I was killing. Even now, I still kill without hesitation on the battlefield. I just…" he hangs his head. "...I don't want to lose anyone close to me, that's all. I'm sorry to say that I'm not the saint you make me out to be."

He hears her whisper under her breath. Something that sounds suspiciously like "You are to me…" but he gets the impression that he wasn't meant to hear that, so he decides not to comment on it.

A few moments later, the silence is interrupted by a soft giggle from Edelgard, and he turns to blink at her in confusion. "What is it?"

She tries to force the smile off her face before she answers him, clearing her throat. "Ah, forgive me, it's just that when you mentioned being a saint, I couldn't help but think… you wield the power of the Goddess, and the Sword of the Creator. By all rights, you should be leading the Knights of Seiros against me to punish me for my sins, and yet here you are, standing by my side. Ironic, isn't it?"

Not for the first time, he wishes that he could speak to Sothis and ask her what she thinks of all of this. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "Yes, I suppose it is. I wonder how Rhea will explain that to her followers?"

"Well, history is written by the victors, and it's clear that the Church is adept at rewriting history to suit them. I'm sure she must have some grand tale prepared for the historians to write down years from now, when she preaches of how she struck down our rebellion," Edelgard muses.

"Maybe she'll say that I stole this power, or that I deceived the Goddess into granting me her blessing, or she might just say I'm a sham, who never had the power of the Goddess in the first place."

Edelgard smirks. "Or perhaps she'll try to paint you as a wayward hero who was meant to lead Fódlan to greatness, until I seduced you and brought you over to my side? Maybe she'll try to paint me as a vile witch, who cast a spell on you to rob you of your will and corrupt you into my loyal servant," she jokes, though her tone is laced with doubt and self-deprecation.

Byleth thinks back to his nickname from his mercenary days. He never paid it much mind, but suddenly it seems very fitting. He smiles as he reaches for her hand and holds it in his own, prompting her eyes to widen in shock and her cheeks to turn a light red.

"Edelgard, if you're a witch, then I'm a demon," he says, looking straight into her eyes. "Whether we win or lose, whether we go down in history as heroes or villains, we'll do it together. I promised to walk this path with you, and I'll follow you until the end of it, and even beyond that."

"My teacher…" Edelgard whispers wistfully. She takes a step towards him, and leans forward… only to step away from him, reluctantly pulling her hand away from his as her cheeks burn bright red. "Forgive me, I just remembered I have something important to attend to, please excuse me, professor." With that, Edelgard runs off, flustered.

He watches her go, only distantly aware of the fact that he's staring, until she's out of sight. Even after she's faded from view, walking into the monastery halls and going up to her office, he doesn't turn away, merely looking at the spot where she was a moment ago with a smile on his face.

He comes to a conclusion.

I'm in love with her.

And the realization hits him harder than The Immaculate One, in all her fury, ever could. His eyes nearly pop out of his skull, his jaw feels like it's no longer attached to his face. He's left reeling, so utterly shaken by this revelation that he's genuinely unsure whether or not his imagination is playing tricks on him when he hears the voice of Sothis saying, "It's about time!"

He's suddenly reevaluating every single interaction he's ever had with her, trying to pinpoint the moment where it happened. Was it at the Goddess Tower? Was it when she first told him the truth about her nightmares? Was it when he turned his back on the Church to stand with her against all of Fódlan? Was it when he watched her succeed her father as Emperor? Was it when he charged into battle and stared down a god for her? Was it back when this all began, when he threw himself in front of an axe for the sake of a girl he'd only just met?

He has to slap himself in the face to force his mind back into the present, which earns him quite a few awkward stares. He can't be stuck focusing on the past when he has to concern himself with the future.

He forces his feet to move, an immensely difficult task given how his legs feel like jelly right now, and makes his way down to his father's grave. He can almost hear Jeralt's voice as he remembers what he said to him when they last stood together, right on this spot.

One day, I hope you'll give this ring to someone you love as well as I love her.

He reaches into his pocket and feels the familiar weight of the ring he found in his father's office, all those years ago.

He pulls it out, and stares at it in the palm of his hand. Byleth smiles as he closes his fist around it.

Yes, I did shamelessly borrow "If you're a witch, then I'm a demon" from Code Geass. No, I am not sorry.