A/N: Contains spoilers if you have not played Seteth/Flayn's paralogue.

In the months since Seteth has accepted that he loves Byleth, he has come to a conclusion.

A love confined to four walls is just a rose colored cage.

The concept appeals to some, true, but frankly speaking... Seteth has enough secrets permeating his life. Even one more feels like a burden that he will not bear if it is not strictly necessary.

The list is long, he knows, but as of now, just off the top of his head, he is hiding his true name, his family, his heritage, his history-it is not a stretch to say that almost everything he presents himself as is a lie.

Perhaps that is why he is spurred on by this fool's idea... for only a true imbecile would attempt to depart the monastery grounds with the appearance of the Flame Emperor putting everyone on such high alert.

Then again, it has been said that desperation makes a wise man into a fool.

Hair tied away from his face and garbed in darkness, he slips through the monastery unseen and unheard. There isn't much activity-some knights patrolling on foot through the gardens, a few more nestled together in the dining hall trading cards and secrets, and... cats. A lot of cats doing Sothis knows what in the night. By the sounds, he could guess but he mostly does not wish to even try.

Most of the guards are well trained-that owl-eyed gatekeeper of the front gate most of all-but they don't have thousands of years of experience on their side as he does.

Stealthily, he crouches in the bushes beside Byleth's bed chamber. No students should be out at this hour, but there would be no going back if they were caught. There would be too much to explain away, much that could never be. Worst of all, he could practically hear the rumors now, in Manuela's silky voice no less-so that's how the new professor got appointed so quickly.

Blasphemy, of course, since the appointment was all Rhea's doing and he had been caught unawares more so than anyone else, but... this would look bad to any outsider, no matter how one cut it. He whistles the call of a lark. Then, an owl. Then, a lark once more. It takes a moment, but Byleth's door swings open silently. He'd greased the hinges some nights ago with boar's fat, but the satisfaction of seeing it open so soundlessly is more than he expects to feel.

She pokes her head out, her hand low on her hip. A weapon, if he knows her well. Seteth calls out in the sound of an owl again to attract her attention. Predictably, she looks right towards him with sharp eyes-and when she does, he peers out from the bushes and crosses the small space of the yard to enter her room.

'Seteth?' Byleth doesn't say as much as she mouthes it, her eyes as wide as saucers. He almost winces, but it's completely understandable. After all, is he not the one who always preaches of precaution and recklessness? And yet...

He draws closer, then slips inside her room. The moment she shuts the door, her voice is a confused whisper. "What are you doing here?" He corners her against the far wall, lips close and gaze closer with intent.

"Stealing you away."

Byleth stares at him, blinking in reply.

It's not that she isn't happy to see Seteth-she is. But she isn't quite sure why he's here. Stealing her away? To go where? And why?

She answers slowly.

"I... I have class in the morning."

Seteth tries his best not to wilt. Of all the times for Byleth to be practical, must it be now when he is trying is best to sweep her off her feet? But... he tries not to slap his hand to his forehead. In all honestly, his line sounded so much more romantic in his head when he'd practiced the night before.

"I know you do, however..." he clears his throat, doubt pricking him as it has been since he'd begun planning this surprise endeavor. What possessed him to think she would think this would be romantic? He sets his mouth. No, there is no point in overthinking it now. Not again. This is an opportunity to know Byleth better, and if making grievous blunders is how he must do it, then... so be it. "I know, however, I thought you would enjoy a night out. If you wish to oblige me, then a wyvern is at the ready. If not, then-"

"I'll come." She lowers her voice further. "But the students..."

"Oh, I am well-aware of your little following. How nice to have so many adore you." In the mouth of a lesser man, such words would be jealous ones, but... well. Seteth is not a lesser man. He smiles at Byleth proudly. No matter how he'd felt about the professor at first, he must admit... Rhea was quite correct in her appointment. The students seem to love Byleth for one, and more importantly... even his beloved Flayn seems to have quite an interest in the woman.

He has already admitted it to himself- he has approached, met and surpassed the point where he desires to just gaze upon his professor from afar, chained to conventions of their normal dealings. Even their trysts are not enough, and if a night in the sky could do as much and draw them closer still, then he will gladly embarrass himself for a few moments with her.

He leans in quietly, murmurs directly into her ear. "I know how your house cares for you, but for now, I'd like to show that I, too, have such great, if not greater affection. If I may have a few moments of your evening, I am most certain I could prove it."

Byleth turns her head to stare at him expressionlessly, their faces so close that he can feel the tension, taste it even. She cups his cheek, then tilts her head. "Just a few?"

In truth, he would gladly take her whole evening... but this is hardly the time or place. Even a kiss could be overheard, and the danger alone has his heart fluttering. He draws her hand up and presses a chaste, silent touch of his mouth to the knuckles of her skin. "I've prepared a wyvern at the stables. Can you make it across the monastery as silently as possible?"

Byleth lifts a mild pair of eyebrows, and he suddenly remembers who he is speaking to.

Right.

Well, no matter. He smiles with the slightest glint of teeth and lets her hand go as he disappears into the night.

In the months since Seteth has accepted that he loves Byleth, he has come to a conclusion.

A love confined to four walls is just a rose colored cage.

The concept appeals to some, true, but frankly speaking... Seteth has enough secrets permeating his life. Even one more feels like a burden that he will not bear if it is not strictly necessary.

The list is long, he knows, but as of now, just off the top of his head, he is hiding his true name, his family, his heritage, his history-it is not a stretch to say that almost everything he presents himself as is a lie.

Perhaps that is why he is spurred on by this fool's idea... for only a true imbecile would attempt to depart the monastery grounds with the appearance of the Flame Emperor putting everyone on such high alert.

Then again, it has been said that desperation makes a wise man into a fool.

Hair tied away from his face and garbed in darkness, he slips through the monastery unseen and unheard. There isn't much activity-some knights patrolling on foot through the gardens, a few more nestled together in the dining hall trading cards and secrets, and... cats. A lot of cats doing Sothis knows what in the night. By the sounds, he could guess but he mostly does not wish to even try.

Most of the guards are well trained-that owl-eyed gatekeeper of the front gate most of all-but they don't have thousands of years of experience on their side as he does.

Stealthily, he crouches in the bushes beside Byleth's bed chamber. No students should be out at this hour, but there would be no going back if they were caught. There would be too much to explain away, much that could never be. Worst of all, he could practically hear the rumors now, in Manuela's silky voice no less-so that's how the new professor got appointed so quickly.

Blasphemy, of course, since the appointment was all Rhea's doing and he had been caught unawares more so than anyone else, but... this would look bad to any outsider, no matter how one cut it. He whistles the call of a lark. Then, an owl. Then, a lark once more. It takes a moment, but Byleth's door swings open silently. He'd greased the hinges some nights ago with boar's fat, but the satisfaction of seeing it open so soundlessly is more than he expects to feel.

She pokes her head out, her hand low on her hip. A weapon, if he knows her well. Seteth calls out in the sound of an owl again to attract her attention. Predictably, she looks right towards him with sharp eyes-and when she does, he peers out from the bushes and crosses the small space of the yard to enter her room.

'Seteth?' Byleth doesn't say as much as she mouthes it, her eyes as wide as saucers. He almost winces, but it's completely understandable. After all, is he not the one who always preaches of precaution and recklessness? And yet...

He draws closer, then slips inside her room. The moment she shuts the door, her voice is a confused whisper. "What are you doing here?" He corners her against the far wall, lips close and gaze closer with intent.

"Stealing you away."

Byleth stares at him, blinking in reply.

It's not that she isn't happy to see Seteth-she is. But she isn't quite sure why he's here. Stealing her away? To go where? And why?

She answers slowly.

"I... I have class in the morning."

Seteth tries his best not to wilt. Of all the times for Byleth to be practical, must it be now when he is trying is best to sweep her off her feet? But... he tries not to slap his hand to his forehead. In all honestly, his line sounded so much more romantic in his head when he'd practiced the night before.

"I know you do, however..." he clears his throat, doubt pricking him as it has been since he'd begun planning this surprise endeavor. What possessed him to think she would think this would be romantic? He sets his mouth. No, there is no point in overthinking it now. Not again. This is an opportunity to know Byleth better, and if making grievous blunders is how he must do it, then... so be it. "I know, however, I thought you would enjoy a night out. If you wish to oblige me, then a wyvern is at the ready. If not, then-"

"I'll come." She lowers her voice further. "But the students..."

"Oh, I am well-aware of your little following. How nice to have so many adore you." In the mouth of a lesser man, such words would be jealous ones, but... well. Seteth is not a lesser man. He smiles at Byleth proudly. No matter how he'd felt about the professor at first, he must admit... Rhea was quite correct in her appointment. The students seem to love Byleth for one, and more importantly... even his beloved Flayn seems to have quite an interest in the woman.

He has already admitted it to himself- he has approached, met and surpassed the point where he desires to just gaze upon his professor from afar, chained to conventions of their normal dealings. Even their trysts are not enough, and if a night in the sky could do as much and draw them closer still, then he will gladly embarrass himself for a few moments with her.

He leans in quietly, murmurs directly into her ear. "I know how your house cares for you, but for now, I'd like to show that I, too, have such great, if not greater affection. If I may have a few moments of your evening, I am most certain I could prove it."

Byleth turns her head to stare at him expressionlessly, their faces so close that he can feel the tension, taste it even. She cups his cheek, then tilts her head. "Just a few?"

In truth, he would gladly take her whole evening... but this is hardly the time or place. Even a kiss could be overheard, and the danger alone has his heart fluttering. He draws her hand up and presses a chaste, silent touch of his mouth to the knuckles of her skin. "I've prepared a wyvern at the stables. Can you make it across the monastery as silently as possible?"

Byleth lifts a mild pair of eyebrows, and he suddenly remembers who he is speaking to.

Right.

Well, no matter. He smiles with the slightest glint of teeth and lets her hand go as he disappears into the night.

On his way back to the stables, Seteth moves swiftly, excitement in his bones. His route is quite direct-a right at the greenhouse, past the fishing pond and-his ear quirks at a foreign sound behind him.

Armor?

No... it sounded more like a tap of the sword against the ground. Someone armed is close, perhaps even following him.

Seteth ducks behind the stairwell and listens.

"I told you! There's nobody out here."

"Could you keep your stupid mouth shut? I know what I heard." Oh... so the son of Fraldarius and the philanderer he keeps away from Flayn. An interesting pair. "Someone came through here earlier." He winces. Perhaps he hadn't been as silent as he thought.

"Well, as flattered as I am that you thought to bring me along, since we're out, you want to go hit up the town? The taverns are open all night."

Seteth's mouth sets into a line. With just a sentence, he feels justified in warning Flayn against close association with him. He ought to do it once more, actually.

But no, now is not the time for concern. He cannot get caught, nor can he allow Byleth to be discovered so early.

"You fool, haven't you heard? The Death Knight's been rumored to be on the prowl and-" Felix scoffs. "Just go back to sleep. I don't know why I bothered waking you when your company sickens me. I'll check it out on my own." The footsteps are light and thankfully away from him. It's just a matter of speed, now.

Seteth lets out a breath of relief.

His chest tightens for a moment. Should he just give up? In his mind, Byleth's face flickers, her soft expression as she leans towards him decidedly, lips at the ready...

Oh, absolutely not.

Seteth races towards the stables. They will most definitely hear him, but-

"I told you there was someone here!"

"I hear it! You go and alert the rest of the House. I'll be in pursuit."

"Don't tell me what to do, buffoon, just go!"

But he is determined now. He bursts through the stable door, slipping his legs over those of the waiting wyvern. It's not his usual mount-that would be much too amateur if he is trying to avoid getting caught- but this particular wyvern is one he has known since birth and is quite gentle towards him, despite having another assigned rider.

Thank Sothis he had already saddled her in preparation.

With a silent, steady flick of his wrist, the wyvern takes off through the sky roof. Once he reaches the blackness of the sky, he should be safe, as long as-

A whistling sound passes by, almost like... an arrow.

Wait-he tenses on the wyvern's back. Arrow?! Who in the world is firing at him? He gathers his body close to his mount and leans into a rolling dive, angling himself entirely so that she will quickly tuck her wings into body, then unfurl them swiftly to catch the wind. Once he's moved far enough away, he lifts his body by standing in the stirrups and angling her upwards, taking a spare moment to glance behind him at the ground before he is too far away to see who in Blue Lion House has such deadly aim.

Pale hair...

Is that the child of the fallen House Martritz?

Ah, no. He muses as he shifts his footing on the mount, barely dodging another projectile. No, the hair looks much too short for that. Besides, it is almost silvery in color...

Oh, yes. It could only be Ashe Ubert, adoptive ward of Lord Lonato. Yet another arrow comes astonishingly close, and it occurs to him that the student cannot see him, so he must be aiming wherever he cannot see the stars.

Smart, Mr. Ubert. Very resourceful.

"But that's enough of this." He presses his body in and directs the wyvern into the clouds for cover, then circles back towards the professor's dormitory. From his point of view, he can see the other students running towards the stable. It's only a matter of time before they go to Byleth for assistance. He lets out an irritated breath, resting his forehead against the wyvern's neck in exasperation. All he wants is a night with his professor. All he wants...

He directs the wyvern to the back roof of the dormitory building and pulls off his disguise, shaking loose his forested locks. His garb is rather casual... but there really isn't time to change into more appropriate attire.

Seteth takes a deep breath, running a hand down his face. He really hadn't wanted to do this but...

He hustles down the stairs and loops around to the front of the dormitories, marching towards the stables where the students of Blue Lion House are mostly still gathered, trying their best to simultaneously protect the monastery and ruin his date night. He passes by the staircase to the dining hall and wonders if it's too much to... well, no. He's this deep in the deception already.

Hustling up the stairs, he bursts through the doors where the knights on patrol for the night are at leisure still, a spread of cards before them. For a moment, the knights gape at him-at his casual clothing, no doubt, but he ignores it. If he doesn't, he is absolutely certain that his cheeks will redden, and he cannot afford to be embarrassed.

"It seems there is commotion at the stables. Two of you, with me!" There isn't any movement. Seteth almost sighs. It really is harder to appear authoritarian without the appropriate get up, isn't it... He folds his arms and straightens his back, lifting a critical eyebrow and pursing his lips in the thinnest line he can manage. "Well?"

The knights hustle, cards scattering as weapons are armed and by the time Seteth turns away, two pairs of footsteps are trailing behind him.

He tries not to shake his head.

In a way, it should be endearing. It is endearing, even, if he really thinks on it. Aside from the childlike way they're handling it-without summoning the nearest adult, for example-he is almost proud of them. As he approaches the noise in front of the stables, the crowd of students stirred up even further. Byleth has really taught them well.

He rounds the corner, taking a deep breath and preparing his most authoritarian face.

"What is going on here?"

As he expects, at the sight of Seteth and the two knights flanking his either side, the chatter ceases at once. But what he doesn't expect is... in the center of them all, Byleth stands amongst her students, her sword in hand. She clears her throat, sheathing it swiftly at his appearance.

"It seems we've received a visit."

Seteth folds his arms. "From?" Felix pushes forward through the rest of the students.

"It was the Death Knight. I was hoping for a chance to cross blades with him but..." He shifts, hands on his hips. "The coward got away. I'm just glad I overheard him. What kind of academy is this if it can't keep its students safe?"

The Death Knight? It takes all of his self-control not to groan. No wonder the students had taken the offensive, then. It is just like children to assume the worst. Seteth's eyebrows furrow together.

"Are you certain?"

A mildly nasal voice interrupts, worry settled in celery green eyes. "He stole a wyvern, sir. I shot at him but... I failed to bring them down."

Thankfully.

Of all the ways for a date night to end, an arrow slinging through him is absolutely the opposite of optimal, especially when the aforementioned date night hasn't even begun.

Seteth turns, looking at the knights behind him, regret heavy in his chest. "You two, alert the rest of the knights and search the monastery top to bottom. You can report your findings tomorrow afternoon. Byleth?"

Byleth looks at him. He could almost swear there's laughter in her eyes. ...Because of course she would find this situation amusing.

"Yes?"

"Your students have relayed the night's events to you, yes?" She nods in reply, her head tilting as she tries to figure out where he's going next with this. "Excellent. Follow me to my office. I'll take the report so that I can inform the Archbishop as soon as possible." Seteth looks over the students. "Excellent work, students. Tomorrow, I would say that some well deserved rest is in order. I'm sure this evening's events were quite stressful. Now..." He unfolds his arms and smiles slightly, hoping the expression doesn't feel too stiff, "Off to bed with you."

And he turns away towards his office, hoping that Byleth will follow.

As soon as they're out of view, Byleth trots up to meet Seteth's pace, just wanting to read his expression. It is, for the most part, surprisingly composed considering how eventful he hasn't meant for this evening to be. He sighs as Byleth gives him a side glance.

"Can't catch a break, huh."

Seteth shakes his head in reply, trying not to appear to sulk. There are plenty of hard truths that he has had to face but this... seeming impossibility to get the professor out of Garreg Mach's walls... it is maddening.

"Perhaps I have displeased some force of the universe and this in my penance." Byleth looks at him curiously.

"Do you... believe in forces in the universe, then?"

"Not at all." He ventures a smile. "But I am beginning to believe that I should. Clearly something needs to be appeased if I am to be worthy of more of time with you." Byleth glances around them, then quickens her step to take his hand, intertwining her fingers through his. He looks at her in alarm but her face betrays nothing.

"It's dark tonight. I could fall." He struggles for a moment before giving in, tugging her a bit closer.

"That is the most flimsy excuse I've ever heard." He squeezes her hand lightly. "But then I suppose it would be most prudent to take extra precautions to ensure you don't get lost, wouldn't it? Especially with the Death Knight popping in for a visit."

She doesn't reply with words, instead bringing his hand to her cheek and shutting her eyes for just a moment. He knows they shouldn't, that anyone could see, but he finds his heart softening, even as he warns her with a subtle shake of his head. When they reach the darkness near the training grounds, Seteth pulls her up the stairs. The sauna has been closed for repairs, he reasons. In the space of darkness, no one will see their lips meet, or the way his fingers run through Byleth's hair.

There will be no witnesses to his hands resting on his professor's waist as he pulls her in just a little closer and angles his mouth for just a little more.

Nor will a single soul know how many times he tries to pull away and only ends up back for just one more... two more... a few more touches of their lips meeting together.

No... only the stars will witness the four final words spoken as they slip through the darkness towards Seteth's office, hand in hand.

"Rain check?"

"Rain check."

A quick shout out to How to Train Your Dragon for helping me imagine the Seteth-on-his-wyvern scenes. Also RIP to Seteth ever thinking he was going to a night on the town with Byleth with the Blue Lion kids.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this one-shot, comments are greatly appreciated!