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“Linhardt…Linhardt.” Nothing. Not even a flinch on his feminine looking face. Lysithea frowns. She balances her quill on the top of her lip, mentally running through a list of ways to wake him; the fastest being a rough shove and screech in his direction.
“WAKE UP!”
“Oh. Lysithea…. Were you the one making such a beastly noise?”
“Is there anyone else here?” She asks in a snippier tone than usual.
Linhardt yawns, lazy and catlike in his movements before sparing a glance around the dimly lit library. Neither Claude nor Tomas could be seen in their usual spots meaning the two magic users were the sole inhabitants. Linhardt lets out another yawn, stretching his long limbs as far as they would go before once again making himself comfortable on the table with his returned pillow.
“No there isn’t. Well if that’s all, good night then.”
“Aren’t you coming with me back to the dormitories?” Lysithea hesitantly inquires as she goes about the steps of packing up her things.
Linhardt shrugs.
“Why would I do that?” He sighs, props himself up on his palm. “Since there’s no class tomorrow I might as well sleep where I plan to spend most of the day.”
His logic is so absurd that it makes sense when she thinks about it. Still Lysithea had only stayed in the library this late because she expected to join Linhardt on his way back to the dormitories. Only he wouldn’t be leaving meaning she would have to traverse the academy grounds…
In the dark…alone.
At the mercy of whatever ghosts happened to haunt the area.
What if she got lost?
What if the Death Knight showed up again? That wasn’t outside the realm of possibility as he obviously had a hobby of kidnapping young girls like Flayn and Monica. Whose to say she the youngest student in the academy wouldn’t be next? At the thought Lysithea feels her heartbeat decline while her hands start collecting moisture.
“Well I…” Lysithea fumbles for an excuse. Anything to get the older mage out of his seat and on his way back to the dormitories. Linhardt doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush. In fact, his breathing kszcalm and regular like he’s just on the edge of sleep.
“Lysithea you have a book I need for tomorrow’s class.”
Byleth’s unremarkable voice bounces off the stone walls making it sound stronger than it was. Strange how ordinary the Professors voice sounded when he was anything but. Should he ever venture into one of the larger cities Lysithea can imagine Byleth’s toneless voice easily being swallowed in thongs of everyday citizens.
She begins to complain but stops. Byleth has offered her a laurel, a neutral way to accompany her back to the dormitories without alerting Linhardt of her fear.
“I’m all set.”
With her things gathered Lysithea trots towards the professor whose long and delicate eyelashes linger shut just a moment too long. He must be exhausted and yet he’d still taken the time to check the library for any late-night stragglers having found one even offered to escort her back.
“Get some sleep Hevring.” Byleth warns as he pushes himself off the cool wall.
“That won’t be a problem.”
Being so late in the evening the few torches illuminating the hallways during the day had burnt out leaving the two to rely on memory and feel to navigate the darkness and down the spiraling set of stairs.
Its only upon exiting the building and taking note of the moons position overhead that Lysithea understands how long she’d shut herself up in the library for. Awkward reading positions has left her joints stiff and much need of movement. Byleth stops, mimes for her to hand over her school supplies which she does. She’s too tired to argue and they are heavy.
“Thank you doing this professor.”
“More and more students are vanishing these days.”
There’s a warning for her to be careful somewhere in his words. Even if she must dig through three layers to find it.
Their walk back to the dormitories is pleasant all things considered, Lysithea realizes the professor matches her pace, a single step to her three. Normally she must jog to keep up with him but now Byleth seems to deliberately linger like one might do on a hot summer day. He talks more than usual too. Not about anything important just about her classmates and his experience as a teacher.
According to him Hilda was once again falling behind, and more girls were complaining about Lorenz’s less than appropriate behavior.
“He’s never bothered me about all that. Then again most of the alliance turns a blind eye to House Ordelia.”
If Byleth picks up on the subtle shade thrown at her fellow nobles, he doesn’t say anything and continues to lead them across the bridge. As the pair finish making their way across, Lysithea’s gaze instinctively navigates towards the cemetery where rows of tombstones stand erect and silent.
Realistically there’s nothing off putting about the place. In the daytime the area is washed in the same comforting light that encompasses the entire monastery. Peaceful. The graveyard acts as a haven for those in need of a moment and gives them comfort.
She holds her breath and hurries passed eager to put the cemetery behind her. Ever since the experiments its too easy to imagine herself dead in a coffin. Her parents crying over their sole remaining daughter.
“You can hold onto me if you’re scared.” He’s so casual about the offer she doesn’t know if he’s joking.
“I’m not scared! Really, how could anyone be scared with all your talking? You’re quite chatty tonight professor.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” Is he joking with her? It’s so hard to tell with that stoic face of his and lack luster gaze.
“Well not compared to other people. But outside of lectures this is the most I’ve ever heard you speak. You should do it more often.” He shrugs lazily and adjusts his hold on her books. Byleth guides her past his own simple quarters back to her own. There’s nothing romantic about it. Lysithea drags her hands over her skirt which feels too short compared to Hilda or Dorthea.
“Thank you for walking me back Professor.”
“Get some rest Lysithea.”
Lysithea. Her heart skips at the drawl. Had her name ever sounded so lovely before. Lysithea. Not Ordelia. Lysithea.
Taking back her books the teenage girl waves goodnight.
.-.-.-.-.
At some point during the semester Linhardt transfers into the Golden Deer. As if his intention wasn’t obvious with all his talk in using her as a test subject. To show her disapproval Lysithea declines Byleth’s invitation to tea not once but twice. Eventually her anger dissipates but she still makes a habit of avoiding Linhardt’s favorite napping spots.
-.-.-.-.-
Time spins forward. Eventually the Professor learns about her twin crests and it is through his encouragement that she finds herself agreeing to once again become a test subject.
“Look at me.” Byleth instructs one day just minutes before Hanneman’s and Linhart’s first of many experiments regarding her twin crest and their removal. The Professor must have heard her reluctant sigh because just as she’s about to pass the threshold Byleth pulls her into the narrow hallway.
He has changed…since coming back. She wouldn’t say he’s emotional but Byleth’s feelings and thoughts have started showing up on his features. It’s because she was his best student that Lysithea seems to notice each minute change. Right? From the funny look of disgust he gets whenever fish shows up on the table or his clear annoyance whenever it rains.
Backed into a corner Byleth’s large hand softly cradles her cheek. Lysithea feels her entire body quiver, but not in a bad way. Unable to discern if he’s intentionally stroking her cheek she stands awkwardly pulling at her ugly hair. Her chest swells at each touch which summons fantasies of a normal life, one with a future.
A future at his side.
Whatever that may be.
“I said we’d look for a cure together. I’m right here with you.” Once more he promises with absolute faith in the impossible.
Just behind that door is kind and reliable Hanneman. True he is a bit eccentric but a good man whose curiosity often drove others away. Alongside him the often bored but astute Linhardt who only recently admitted to Lysithea that unraveling the mysteries surrounding her twin crest was the one subject that held his attention for five long years.
They’re good men.
Lysithea knows this. Has placed her trust and life in each of their hands. She knows the millisecond she says stop both Hanneman and Linhardt will step away and she’ll be free to leave the exact way she came.
They are not the cruel mages who experimented on her or her sibling.
Suddenly Lysithea begins to feel incredibly tiny as dark memories creep forward that open the floodgate; releasing years of tears she’d never allowed to fall. Giant wails wrack her body as she doubles over.
Only babies cry. She latches onto this mantra as tightly as she does Byleth’s hand
It’s frustrating. Logically she knows shes safe in the walls of Garreg Mach..
But at the same time Lysithea is less than ten, chained and being led down to the basement where they stored the wine. Mages in strange black robes and haunting leather beaks had just finished herding up the remaining Ordelia siblings. Somewhere in the background Mother claws violent against an unknown soldier, her once strong voice raw with grief, begging, pleading to take her instead.
Down in the basement she and her siblings quickly lost track of time. Day and night became a foreign concept replaced with when they were and weren’t being experimented on. Spread out on a cold iron table with naught but a scratchy linen dress for modesty, Lysithea counted the drops of water. Meanwhile those strange mages went about drawing blood and turning unblemished skin black and blue.
Besides the water droplets which felt like an oasis on her chapped lips there was little else to do but count the sets of eyes go out around her.
One.
Two.
Ten.
Like clockwork her siblings are carted out in wheelbarrows like animals. Their bodies thinner than they have any right to be and mangled together so she can’t tell where one sibling starts and another ends. And the smell…
“Tsk tsk. What a waste.”
Well bring in the next one. Maybe this one will be different.
Lysithea
No. Not again. It was too soon. Her child self-begs for death. Fights to live.
Those days buried beneath the Ordelia house were a constant contradiction.
She remembers turning into the frigid table. Eyes clamped shut, willing her body to become as small as possible and uselessly praying that they use anyone else. That she ceased being their favorite experiment until she alone remained.
To leave her alone.
To let her sleep.
To let her die and join her siblings.
One day she woke up to the stale taste of iron and the sudden realization that her prized hair, the hair mother always praised was now a ghost white.
Lysithea
Lysithea
Lysithea come back. It’s all right.
She knows that voice. Has heard it every day as she copied down notes.
At some point his youngest and best student stops responding. Like one of Bernie’s hand crafted dolls she goes limp and no matter how many time he pleads with her she doesn’t hear him. Coaxing her hair back Byleth curses loudly, awkwardly banging on Hanneman’s door and screaming for Manuela.
Good idea. How was this a good idea? To let her, Hanneman and Linhardt talk him into experiments in the hopes of learning something about her twin crests. As if they weren’t in the middle of a war and fighting for their lives. He’s spent months protecting his students from fatal wounds, endlessly turning back the clock and revising entire battle strategies all to protect his deerlings.
Except now his youngest deer grips onto him with her life, lost in memories he can’t shield her from.
“My word! Come in quickly! Quickly!”
Byleth scoops her up easily once just wincing
“You’re alright. You’re safe. They can’t hurt you anymore” Byleth reassures her in what he hopes is a soothing cadence.
Behind him the door opens and a frazzled Hanneman ushers them onto the couch. The pair awkwardly move Byleth holds the young woman and strokes his bare hand through her silver hair, rubs large and soothing circles on her back. Physical comforts his father would provide
“I was afraid this might happen.” Hanneman states once he returns from the dining hall with a tray loaded with the fruit. By then Lysithea had worn herself out and was now resting against Byleth while the three waited for Manuela.
Byleth samples one of the stale cookies to ensure they were the kind Lysithea was fond of. Across the room Hanneman sighs and pulls out a lone file.
“Funny how the brain works. How certain triggers will set one off. Poor girl.”
Had she been awake and able to blow her nose on Byleth’s one clean tunic it’s not hard to imagine the spirited young woman pushing herself in anger. No doubt followed by a hotly ‘Don’t you dare pity me line.’
Instead the young woman is quiet. Byleth feels his face soften as she curls into him for warmth, her ink stained hands never once relenting their hold on him.
“Did she tell you what happened?” Byleth asks unaware that he’s gently brushing aside a few strains of hair caught on her lip. Ignores the twisting of his stomach and the rush of heat when Lysithea nestles against him with a whine.
“Not entirely, no. Nothing good I can imagine.” Hanneman tosses the pen to the side before giving his tired eyes a good rub.
“I doubt anyone will ever know the true horror those mages inflicted on her besides Lysithea.” From across the room Hanneman’s eyes go soft like he’s observing a grandchild rather than his old student.
“She is a wonder….and not because of her crests”
Byleth finds himself agreeing and gives a silent nod. Since the first day of class Lysithea had always held herself to a higher standard than the rest, striving to improve past her limits. Always determined. Always chasing a selfless dream.
“Manuela should be arriving soon. Perhaps its best to take her across the hall.”
“If I move her, she’ll wake up and demand to continue with the tests.”
Hanneman might be old and his eyesight might not be as good as it had been but even, he can see what resembles pain on Byleth’s feminine features. How he unknowingly dotes on his youngest and best student. Like himself they’d both had a soft spot for the young girl, overlooking assignments well over the required length or her staying up past curfew. It Back at the academy she alone had the privilege of borrowing Hanneman’s rarer books while Byleth treated her to tea often.
In battle the two are never far apart. Byleth lingering the perfect distance that should an enemy break through his carefully maintained defenses he is there to slice them down before Marianne or Lysithea can begin their incantations.
“Ahh yes. Well I suppose you’ll just have to put your foot down as a professor, won’t you? Let’s pick this back up in three days’ time. That’ll give the girl enough time to rest up.”
Byleth reluctantly agrees.
Lucky for him, once Byleth moves Lysithea into the infirmary it doesn’t take long for Manuela to appear.
.-.-.-.-.
Sometime later the early morning sun hits her eyes and Lysithea sits up in a blur. Blinking the dust and gunk away she recognizes the tell-tale signs of the infirmary: from Manuela’s terrible filing system to the clean linen sheets pulled a bit too tight. She turns and there is the professor with his glasses and piles of war documents.
“Professor? What happened?”
“You fainted….don’t worry you’re in the clinic, here” He hands her the putrid smelling tonic Manuela had previously crafted for her. Lysithea takes one faint sniff before pushing it away in disgust
“It smells terrible.”
“It tastes worse” Byleth promises having sampled the drink back in the early days after his father’s death. When sleep avoided him and anger flickered in his body like lightning. He pushes the drink back at the woman who makes no move to take a sip.
“Drink it and I’ll give you my dessert.” Byleth openly bribes.
“Which is?”
“Carrot cake.”
She makes another face earning the slightest grin.
“Carrots shouldn’t be in a cake. It’s insulting.”
Byleth beams down at her in a way that has Lysithea fleeing under the covers in a desperate attempt to hide the growing blush. In that moment Byleth knows he’ll never grow tired of listening to her strong held beliefs regarding cake. Knows he’d happily give her his dessert if it ensures a single smile.
“I…. ummm I apologize for what happened earlier. I know both yours and Professor Hannemans time is very precious. Even Linhardt.”
He has a sudden overwhelming urge to hold her then. To shield her from every and all the dangers of the world especially the ones in black leather masks. Instead Byleth places a hand in her silver hair much like he had during their peaceful days at the academy and gives it a good shake.
“Professor! I’m neither your student nor a child!”
“Enjoy it. You should be happy just a handsome man is giving you so much attention.” From across the room Manuela sighs. Continues to inventory her supplies while she has the time.
“You know I’m only here for you.” Byleth winks at the older woman.
“Why Professor, I know you’re lying but… Keep it up.”
There’s something in Manuela’s sultry gaze that Lysithea doesn’t like. How the older woman snuggles up against the young man her large breast pressing against his arm. Byleth begins to remove his hand but Lysithea stops him before he can.
“I didn’t say stop.”.” His handsome gaze sends her heart into overdrive as his hand once again rubs soothingly through her ugly gray hair. With a sigh of contentment, she settles back against the bed and focuses on the sense of peace that starts at the top of her head before migrating down her body.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
As Byleth promises he’s with her at every experiment Linhardt or Hanneman has. Sometimes it’s easy other times it’s worse and leaves Lysithea hysterical. On those days Lysithea radiates darkness, her magic flickering through her blood electric and expanding like the universe does every four minutes. She’ll claw into Byleth’s hand or back unaware of the ripping fabric or how it grows damp from pooling blood. Desperate to hold onto the present where she’s needed. Desperate that she won’t lose herself to the past.
Her magic rips through his skin and she begs Byleth to make it stop. To save her siblings.
To not leave her alone
When it’s bad, Lysithea often has a hard time sleeping so he and Claude move their late night meetings into the library where she likes to read. Claude’s teasing, which reminds Lysithea of her older brother helps bring her back when it becomes too much for Byleth.
..-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
“Were you proficient in magic before the experiments?”
Lysithea stares out the stain glass window her coral colored eyes showing age beyond her twenty years. Outside a steady rain hydrates the scorched earth and washes away the latest travesty of war. Overhead an old clock brought by Hanneman from the empire ticks reminding Lysithea of all the nights she spent in the library as a student.
How Byleth would escort her across the grounds. Asking if she’d like to hold his hand. Back then she’d been too embarrassed…but now? Now? She’d probably still be too embarrassed.
“No, I only started using magic after I got out.” She states as she begins to folds in. They’ve been at this for hours asking the same questions in different ways. Poking and prodding her. Taking her temperature. Lysithea leans against the cool class a welcome relief to the stuffy room.
“House Ordelia isn’t known for its magic history.”
Across the room Byleth adjusts his glasses before licking his fingers. He flips a page of parchment and scribbles something.
“If you’re asking if I used magic beforehand, then yes.” She replies.
“When did you first start displaying magical abilities?”
Another shrug. Truthfully the time immediately before and after her imprisonment is a blur. Days, even weeks converging into a single afternoon. She struggles to remember the faces of her siblings which have grown hazy with the passing years. Had their funerals been on the same day? That was the year the hard frost came right?
Hadn’t a few of her siblings shared a casket to save money? She closes her eyes against the painful memories and strengthens her hold around her waist.
“A few of my nurses said that when I was a baby and I wanted something it would warp into my hands. “
“Fascinating. You really are a marvel.” Lysithea bites back the scathing words meant for the green haired man. It wasn’t his fault. She reminds herself.
“Dark magic is incredibly rare. Have you always had an affinity with it?”
“I’ve told you before. Even with my two crests all my progress is directly because of the effort I put in.”
She turns to the professor to shoot him a disgruntled look.
“I’d like for this to be over now Professor.” He removes his glasses effortlessly and stands up a clear sign that their session was over for today. They bid Linhardt and Hanneman good day and set out on the familiar path back to the dormitories. On the way Byleth stops to treat her to her favorite tea. For once they don’t talk about the war and instead sit in an easy silence, the professor refilling her cup whenever she comes close to finishing it.
“Whatever you want that I have the power to grant is yours.”
She perks up at this. Places her cup on its saucer.
“Anything?” His verdant eyes draw her in making her aware of everything he intentionally does to her body. Lysithea swallows air, licks her lips.
“Anything.”
A braver person, one with a future beyond this war would ask to be kissed. She wants it very much.
“Well, I…that is…” Byleth waits patiently his kind eyes focused solely on her. “If you wouldn’t mind… could you pat my head again?”
“Is that it?”
No. But she can’t want anything beyond tomorrow not with this doomed fate. Lysithea coral gaze flickers down to the uneven stone walkway and pushes a few pebbles with the cuff of her shoes. It wasn’t fair. The goddess felt the need to curse her with two crests this granting Lysithea the opportunity to meet and study under the professor. All her other classmates would hopefully live long lives while she joined her siblings in the ground.
“Yes, that’s it.”
She won’t ask for more or the impossible.