TheCharredDragon
Tis the Hour to Reload
Summary: "She really takes after you both, doesn't she?" Or: How much flowers mean to Jeralt and his daughter, Byleth, over the years. (Jeralt & Byleth centric with a dash of Claudeleth.)
Warning(s): canon character death.
The first time Byleth showed her penchant for flowers, Jeralt had dismissed it as a silly hope.
He and his mercenaries, newly recruited and easy to tire, were taking a break in the woods. Byleth was squiming more than usual, making it hard to just keep her on a saddle like normal. So he put the biggest and smoothest cloth they had on the ground, remembering Sitri had read something about baby skin being sensitive and she worried if their daughter would be especially sensitive because of her weak constitution before he reminded her that that had nothing to do with sensitive skin. Of course he kept an eye on her, and if he couldn't, he had his mercenaries do it, not that they ever refused.
Despite the girl being silent, her cuteness won a lot of them over.
And all of them commented that she must have taken after her mother as they couldn't believe she was his child.
Not that Jeralt blamed them. He hardly believed it many times himself.
He also rarely found things cute. So of course the first, and so far only, thing that he thought of as cute would be his own daughter.
At that point, she was almost two years old, so in hindsight her squirming made sense. But at the time, he had looked away for one brief second to talk to one of his crew, when that said mercenary gasped and said,
"Captain!"
He snapped his sight back on Byleth, brandishing his sword to protect her, but instead of an enemy, he was greeted with the sight of his daughter walking for the first time.
"Guys! Come quick!"
Of course his crew made a big show of it and the ones who particularly liked came to watch. And of course Byleth ignored them, walking forward...and off the blanket.
"Hey hey, kid. Watch it," he said as he stood and made to grab her.
But as soon as she got off, she plopped on the ground and picked something up, the sight of which made hin freeze.
It was a daffodil.
Byleth was holding and staring at a daffodil, almost as if entranced.
Just like her mother.
He would admit to himself he felt close to tears at the reminder, but he dismissed that thought. She was just a baby. She was probably just curious about the little white thing that stood out amongst all the deep green and dark brown. So he picked her up to put her back on blanket and reached out to grab the daffodil from her hands. He didn't know if flowers would be bad for Byleth's health. But Byleth didn't want to let go, and if he knew better, was saddened when she wasn't strong enough to resist his grip. But again, Jeralt dismissed it.
She probably just wanted to keep what she now considered as hers as she refused to give him the daffodil while he held her close.
Despite that...
Jeralt sighed.
...he kept that daffodil. And later bought a book and flower press and put that flower in that book to show his little baby girl.
He was probably imagining things, but her eyes seemed to light up when he showed her the preserved daffodil she found.
The second time though was all he needed to be convinced.
They had been passing yet another town, this one called Remire. Byleth had been about three years old and still hasn't said a word. At that point only the mercenaries who knew her since she was a baby doted on her, any new recruits thought her a freak for being mute despite the doctors and healers telling him she had no problems with her throat or ears. They had disembarked from their horses and were ready to look for an inn to stay over when Byleth tugged on his pants leg.
"Hmm? What is it, kid?"
She pointed in the direction they came.
Jeralt frowned deeper. "Sorry kid. I don't see anything."
And then she said, "Papa."
Jeralt was stunned.
So was everyone else.
At least until one of them said,
"She said her first word!"
That startled her into hugging his leg and made him glare at the offender for scaring his little girl. Luckily for her, she was sheepish about it and her apology was convincing enough so he let her go to focus on Byleth, after telling them to go ahead of course. Jeralt was confused by as she tugged on his hand, he followed her lead, now noticing the flowers that were scattered around the field surrounding Remire. Once they got close to one, she let go and went down to pick up one of them, an...orange sword lily.
"Papa," Byleth said, and then made an opening and closing motion with her hands.
And Jeralt couldn't help but smile, chuckle and cry at the same time.
"Sure kid. I'll press it in your book for you," he said. "I'll even show you how so you can do it later."
Though it did take a bit to realize when Byleth said "Papa", it meant both him and a flower, and it took even longer to have Byleth make the distinction.
When she did though, it wasn't long before she started calling him "Father" instead.
He didn't think it would've stung as much as it did.
But he could live with it. Especially as the flowers seemed to be the only crack she had to her façade, her face practically emotionless, leading to many enemies calling her the Ashen Demon. Any new recruits he happened to take in after old ones left or died would think the same if it weren't for that, giving them flowers of different kinds and meanings if they were down or sick or injured, and seeing she had a hobby that was perfectly "normal" for them, a girl picking flowers throughout their travels and pressing them into her growing collection of flower books.
Though of course Byleth would always eventually remind them that even with her liking of flowers, she was much stronger and more skilled than any of them were, defeating them everytime they trained together.
Her prowess, though, ended up as a double edged sword though because when Remire was at risk of an attack from bandits chasing after three Garreg Mach Academy brats. But they weren't just any brats, they were the heirs to the three major powers of Fódlan. Because of course they were. And as soon as the battle ended, they feverishly tried to recruit her. Though at least the yellow braided brat was a lot more subtle about it...except Jeralt knew his method was a more surefire way to have Byleth be on his side.
He didn't miss the fact that Byleth would often give yellow roses to his mercenaries.
As if to make things worse, Alois arrived and thus now the Church knew of his presence. Not that he minded Alois that much, but he was the last person he wanted to see then, always passionate and always loud and always looking up to him, hence why he wanted to drag him back to thr monastery. Jeralt would've just jumped ship and left, but by then he knew it was too late. Not only did Alois know, but Byleth was curious of the brats and wanted to come along with them, otherwise she would've fought tooth and nail with him to get away.
So he resigned himself to going back to what he used to think of as home.
Now, as he looked at Rhea being unusually interested in his little girl, it was anything but. Not when this was where Sitri died under mysterious circumstances and where the woman he used to admire so much might have tampered with their daughter. He worried she was going to use her somehow, especially since Byleth was offerred a teaching position here at the academy, a job she had absolutely no training in while he was instated Captain of the Knights once again. In other words, they now had responsibilities that had them stuck here.
But instead of chafing at these new chains, though admittedly Jeralt wasn't sure whether she realized they were fetters or not, Byleth took to the job with zeal, or at least as much zeal as someone as expressionless as her could show.
And well...Jeralt would admit that every time he came back from whatever mission Rhea or that annoying Seteth assigned him on, he was starting to think it wasn't such a bad thing they stayed.
Oh he had been incredibly worried when Byleth picked the Golden Deer, the Riegan brat's words having obviously worked on swaying her, but over time he saw Byleth was getting better whenever they managed to spend time together or when he watched her around Garreg Mach, either doing her job or just spending time.
Where before she barely expressed her annoyance with nothing more than the slight narrowing of her eyes and a short huff, now she would sigh and groan and speak of her complains while grading assignments and planning lessons. The biggest offenders he noted were the Riegan brat, the Goneril lass and that Gloucester kid.
Where before she barely expressed her amusement with nothing more than glinting eyes and a slight smirk, now she added giggles and chuckles to her repetoire, the sound light and bell like, not unlike her mother when she lived. He noted it happened the most with the Riegan brat and the Goneril lass, though she laughed freely with all her students.
And where before she barely expressed her happiness with nothing more than a slight upcurl of her lips and enchated gaze, now it was a proper smile. Not a large one like his own, nor one with teeth like Sitri, but a small one that was no less warm and precious to him. He noted they seemed especially soft whenever she spoke of or thought on the Riegan brat.
"She really takes after you both, doesn't she?" Aelfric said one day when they were coordinating knight and priests and monks for...something involving the Abyss. Jeralt didn't bother remembering. It was just everyday management of the knights.
He looked down from the balcony they stood on that looked over the monastery's lake. Below he saw Byleth holding a bouquet of flowers of different kinds and handing them to her students and fellow teachers that were around this area. All of them smiled and likely thanked her for the gift, an expression she returned before she left, her bouquet still rather large.
Jeralt frowned deeper at his old friend.
"What do you mean? I know she's good in a fight, but she's like her mother, not me."
It seemed he still thought unusual things.
The priest looked shocked for some reason before he laughed. If Jeralt could, he would've frowned all the more. But he couldn't, so he settled for saying in a scolding tone,
"Aelfric."
"Sorry, sorry. It's just...well, I don't blame you. She did have trouble expressing herself when she arrived. Yet now she's more talkative than you," he said with a teasing smile.
"Aelfric..."
That made the teasing look all the worse. Thankfully his old friend got to the point and said,
"But she's giving flowers out just like you."
"Her mother liked flowers."
"Yes, but she never used them to convey her feelings, now did she?" Now he was outright smirking. "And we know who's more of a gift giver and person of action between you and her."
Jeralt huffed and looked away, unable to retort.
It was true after all.
And he would admit, he missed his old friend. He wished he didn't have to distance himself from him for the last twenty and so years.
He could do without the teasing though.
But perhaps the one thing that was both equal parts annoying, amusing and resigning, was that one day, was that Byleth was obviously developing a crush.
And that crush was the brat, Claude von Riegan...who also had a crush on her.
That was what he was all he was willing to call the way they looked at each other, and the few blushes Byleth ever had shown being caused by him, but the main reason was well...
"I can't believe I'm watching this..."
...was how absolutely oblivious both were to each other's feelings.
Aelfric covered his mouth but it did little to hide his laughter. Jeralt glared at him briefly before returning his sight before him.
It was the night of the ball and he managed to not only return to the monastery but have time off. And on the dancefloor was Byleth and Claude, dancing together with smiles on their faces, eyes only on each other and both wearing a flower pinned to their lapel. For Claude, a bluebell. For Byleth, a flower most would mistake as a strange lily but was in fact an Almyran called a lotus.
It reminded him of himself with Sitri.
"Can you fault her? It isn't as if you or Sitri knew either until I helped you."
"At least that Riegan brat should say something..."
"You do remember they are teacher and student, yes?"
"That'll hardly matter to Byleth. The most she'd do is keep up appearances for his sake since he's the heir of the Leicester Alliance."
If she had been that worried of other's opinions of her, she wouldn't have worn her favorite tights despite Seteth's constant complaints about it or bothered to give out flowers to everyone she wished to gift them to despite how many could misconstrue her intentions as insidious.
Aelfric chuckled. "I thought as much."
Jeralt huffed but said nothing more as he downed a drink, his own personal one of course.
It wasn't long until the current song ended, with neither Byleth nor Claude having changed dancing partners during it. And then the brat's gaze pointed Jeralt's way and his face lit up for some reason. Jeralt frowned deeper as the Riegan brat said something to his daughter to make her glance to him for a moment with a slight scowl. Before he could do more than stand up though, the brat said something else that made Byleth shake from a chuckle and had her walk to him.
"Byleth?" he said, now confused.
But then his breath left him.
Byleth was smiling. A full smile, one the brightened the rest of her face, as she reached over and grabbed him by his arm.
"Come Father. Let's dance too."
"What? Byleth. You know I don't dance."
His little girl laughed. "I know. But neither did I until now. Just let me lead."
With that, the were on the dancefloor and his Byleth moved his arm into position for a waltz, looking at him expectantly for his answer.
Jeralt smiled. "All right. Lead the way, kid."
And then they danced. It was barely a waltz, Jeralt more often than not tripping or stepping on his daughter's feet and tensing from being so close to so many people, ready to lash out thanks to years on the road. But with each moment Byelth either laughed, smiled brighter or teased him and Jeralt felt what little of his worries melt away and all he could focus on was the woman Byleth has become.
It was then he decided he'd tell Byleth about Sitri, and how much she also loved flowers.
But of course, after the ball, there was work to do, for the both of them.
As annoyed as he was over that, he decided to take the chance to find and purchase Sitri's favorite flower. He would use the pressed flower as both a surprise inside his daughter's first flower book and as an ice breaker for the topic of her mother. It would be a good way to both reminisce her growing up as well as tell her about Sitri's life.
Except he would never get the chance to, as old age and a strange sense of weighted burden meant he was stabbed in a fatal point at the back.
Damn it. And just when Byleth was finally opening up...
He didn't get to let her know...how much he loved her...
But as he lay dying, his energy draining and his lungs straining, he felt himself being moved and it was then he saw his daughter looking down at him...with her very first tears.
And that's when he knew that she knew he loved her.
So he couldn't help but say,
"Sorry... It looks like...I'm going to have to leave you now. To think that the first time I see you cry... your tears would be for me. It's sad, and yet...I'm happy for it. Thank you...kid."
And he let himself rest.
"Byleth?"
Byleth was startled a bit but calmed down upon recognizing the voice.
"How are you feeling?" Khalid, or rather Claude as he was still here in Fódlan, said as he squeezed her hand in comfort.
"I'm fine. Just...remembering," she said.
"Really? Your memory's getting better?"
She nodded and hummed as she kneeled down towards the grave to place her bouquet, made up of anemones, hydrangeas and, most importantly for her, orange sword lilies.
"I'm glad. Does that mean you remembered stuff about you and Jeralt?"
She nodded and hummed once again as she leaned on him, spending a few moments in silence. But that was all she afforded herself. Though they had a break, they had only just won the war, so there was much to be done ans their break wouldn't be that long. So when she was settled on relaxing against her love, she brought him with her to her room, where he started to help her with moving her stuff to the place she would reside now that she ruled Fódlan, no thanks to her deer.
In the middle of it though, Khalid found something that interested him and he said,
"What're these?"
And Byleth turned to see it.
"Oh. Those... Those are my flower books."
"Flower books? Now how come I didn't know about these until now," Khalid said as he settled on her bed to begin perusing.
Byleth rolled her eyes but smiled as she sat with him. "I just forgot to show you. Nothing else to it. Now put that down and let's get back to packing."
"Well all the more reason to look."
Before either of them could say more, the second he opened the book, they stared at what they saw.
Above her first pressed flower, an orange sword lily, was another one. It was a green gerbera daisy on an aged parchment, and it was paired with an equally weathered letter.
And then Byleth cried and smiled, holding Khalid close as she read her father's note.
Hey kid. This was your mom's favorite flower. I found it in a market that sold foreign stuff and gave it to her just because it reminded me of her and her hair. But I'm glad I picked it. It's supposed to mean happiness. And she made me very happy. Just like you. I'm happy you're my daughter.
Author's Notes: Just...pretend that Cindered Shadows did happen but like, instead Aelfric didn't die because I unintentionally gave him a dynamic with Jeralt I liked and thus wanted him to stick around?
Anyways yay! My first Fire Emblem one-shot! And I finished it in one day too. I'm pretty happy about that.
So a couple of things I wanna say.
Yes I headcanon that Byleth, both male and female, knows flower language before arriving at Garreg Mach and likes flowers just like Sitri. And Jeralt too. It's cause of that that when I was talking about Byleth and the flower giving thing to a friend, this spawned from that conversation. And I really enjoyed writing it. Idk I'm always a sucker for a parent's perspective on their kid. And also flower language.
Also just like the thought of Jeralt being just "really?" over Byleth and Claude's unintentional pining instead of the usual "protective dad" thing, mostly 'cause it's funnier for me that even Jeralt can see it, and partially 'cause I figured he knows Byleth would whoop Claude's butt, verbally and/or physically, if he did anything stupid towards her.
And for anyone curious, and just 'cause I wanna, here are the list of flowers by order of first appearance and their meanings. Note that I did minimum research to it so feel free to correct me (and give a source if possible).
Daffodil - new beginnings.
Gladiolus or "sword lily" - remembrance, faithfulness, and sincerity. They come in all sorts of colors, including orange (the color I think of for Jeralt) and green (the color I think of for Byleth). Hence the title of this fic.
Yellow roses - friendship.
Bluebell - gratitude and humility. But they can also symbolize constancy and everlasting love. Which was unintentional on Byleth the first time she gave one to Claude but now completely is.
Lotus -purity, enlightenment, self-regeneration and rebirth. Supposedly Zoroastrians also believe that lotus is sacred because something incredible can happen in a bad situation, so a poor background cannot justify bad behavior, which was what I found from looking up "persian flowers".
Anemone - protection, anticipation, and sacrifice.
Hydrangea - love, family, unity and fidelity.
Gerbera daisy - happiness. Though it doesn't seem green has a specific meaning, despite me reading that gerbera daisies can be green.
Warning(s): canon character death.
The first time Byleth showed her penchant for flowers, Jeralt had dismissed it as a silly hope.
He and his mercenaries, newly recruited and easy to tire, were taking a break in the woods. Byleth was squiming more than usual, making it hard to just keep her on a saddle like normal. So he put the biggest and smoothest cloth they had on the ground, remembering Sitri had read something about baby skin being sensitive and she worried if their daughter would be especially sensitive because of her weak constitution before he reminded her that that had nothing to do with sensitive skin. Of course he kept an eye on her, and if he couldn't, he had his mercenaries do it, not that they ever refused.
Despite the girl being silent, her cuteness won a lot of them over.
And all of them commented that she must have taken after her mother as they couldn't believe she was his child.
Not that Jeralt blamed them. He hardly believed it many times himself.
He also rarely found things cute. So of course the first, and so far only, thing that he thought of as cute would be his own daughter.
At that point, she was almost two years old, so in hindsight her squirming made sense. But at the time, he had looked away for one brief second to talk to one of his crew, when that said mercenary gasped and said,
"Captain!"
He snapped his sight back on Byleth, brandishing his sword to protect her, but instead of an enemy, he was greeted with the sight of his daughter walking for the first time.
"Guys! Come quick!"
Of course his crew made a big show of it and the ones who particularly liked came to watch. And of course Byleth ignored them, walking forward...and off the blanket.
"Hey hey, kid. Watch it," he said as he stood and made to grab her.
But as soon as she got off, she plopped on the ground and picked something up, the sight of which made hin freeze.
It was a daffodil.
Byleth was holding and staring at a daffodil, almost as if entranced.
Just like her mother.
He would admit to himself he felt close to tears at the reminder, but he dismissed that thought. She was just a baby. She was probably just curious about the little white thing that stood out amongst all the deep green and dark brown. So he picked her up to put her back on blanket and reached out to grab the daffodil from her hands. He didn't know if flowers would be bad for Byleth's health. But Byleth didn't want to let go, and if he knew better, was saddened when she wasn't strong enough to resist his grip. But again, Jeralt dismissed it.
She probably just wanted to keep what she now considered as hers as she refused to give him the daffodil while he held her close.
Despite that...
Jeralt sighed.
...he kept that daffodil. And later bought a book and flower press and put that flower in that book to show his little baby girl.
He was probably imagining things, but her eyes seemed to light up when he showed her the preserved daffodil she found.
The second time though was all he needed to be convinced.
They had been passing yet another town, this one called Remire. Byleth had been about three years old and still hasn't said a word. At that point only the mercenaries who knew her since she was a baby doted on her, any new recruits thought her a freak for being mute despite the doctors and healers telling him she had no problems with her throat or ears. They had disembarked from their horses and were ready to look for an inn to stay over when Byleth tugged on his pants leg.
"Hmm? What is it, kid?"
She pointed in the direction they came.
Jeralt frowned deeper. "Sorry kid. I don't see anything."
And then she said, "Papa."
Jeralt was stunned.
So was everyone else.
At least until one of them said,
"She said her first word!"
That startled her into hugging his leg and made him glare at the offender for scaring his little girl. Luckily for her, she was sheepish about it and her apology was convincing enough so he let her go to focus on Byleth, after telling them to go ahead of course. Jeralt was confused by as she tugged on his hand, he followed her lead, now noticing the flowers that were scattered around the field surrounding Remire. Once they got close to one, she let go and went down to pick up one of them, an...orange sword lily.
"Papa," Byleth said, and then made an opening and closing motion with her hands.
And Jeralt couldn't help but smile, chuckle and cry at the same time.
"Sure kid. I'll press it in your book for you," he said. "I'll even show you how so you can do it later."
Though it did take a bit to realize when Byleth said "Papa", it meant both him and a flower, and it took even longer to have Byleth make the distinction.
When she did though, it wasn't long before she started calling him "Father" instead.
He didn't think it would've stung as much as it did.
But he could live with it. Especially as the flowers seemed to be the only crack she had to her façade, her face practically emotionless, leading to many enemies calling her the Ashen Demon. Any new recruits he happened to take in after old ones left or died would think the same if it weren't for that, giving them flowers of different kinds and meanings if they were down or sick or injured, and seeing she had a hobby that was perfectly "normal" for them, a girl picking flowers throughout their travels and pressing them into her growing collection of flower books.
Though of course Byleth would always eventually remind them that even with her liking of flowers, she was much stronger and more skilled than any of them were, defeating them everytime they trained together.
Her prowess, though, ended up as a double edged sword though because when Remire was at risk of an attack from bandits chasing after three Garreg Mach Academy brats. But they weren't just any brats, they were the heirs to the three major powers of Fódlan. Because of course they were. And as soon as the battle ended, they feverishly tried to recruit her. Though at least the yellow braided brat was a lot more subtle about it...except Jeralt knew his method was a more surefire way to have Byleth be on his side.
He didn't miss the fact that Byleth would often give yellow roses to his mercenaries.
As if to make things worse, Alois arrived and thus now the Church knew of his presence. Not that he minded Alois that much, but he was the last person he wanted to see then, always passionate and always loud and always looking up to him, hence why he wanted to drag him back to thr monastery. Jeralt would've just jumped ship and left, but by then he knew it was too late. Not only did Alois know, but Byleth was curious of the brats and wanted to come along with them, otherwise she would've fought tooth and nail with him to get away.
So he resigned himself to going back to what he used to think of as home.
Now, as he looked at Rhea being unusually interested in his little girl, it was anything but. Not when this was where Sitri died under mysterious circumstances and where the woman he used to admire so much might have tampered with their daughter. He worried she was going to use her somehow, especially since Byleth was offerred a teaching position here at the academy, a job she had absolutely no training in while he was instated Captain of the Knights once again. In other words, they now had responsibilities that had them stuck here.
But instead of chafing at these new chains, though admittedly Jeralt wasn't sure whether she realized they were fetters or not, Byleth took to the job with zeal, or at least as much zeal as someone as expressionless as her could show.
And well...Jeralt would admit that every time he came back from whatever mission Rhea or that annoying Seteth assigned him on, he was starting to think it wasn't such a bad thing they stayed.
Oh he had been incredibly worried when Byleth picked the Golden Deer, the Riegan brat's words having obviously worked on swaying her, but over time he saw Byleth was getting better whenever they managed to spend time together or when he watched her around Garreg Mach, either doing her job or just spending time.
Where before she barely expressed her annoyance with nothing more than the slight narrowing of her eyes and a short huff, now she would sigh and groan and speak of her complains while grading assignments and planning lessons. The biggest offenders he noted were the Riegan brat, the Goneril lass and that Gloucester kid.
Where before she barely expressed her amusement with nothing more than glinting eyes and a slight smirk, now she added giggles and chuckles to her repetoire, the sound light and bell like, not unlike her mother when she lived. He noted it happened the most with the Riegan brat and the Goneril lass, though she laughed freely with all her students.
And where before she barely expressed her happiness with nothing more than a slight upcurl of her lips and enchated gaze, now it was a proper smile. Not a large one like his own, nor one with teeth like Sitri, but a small one that was no less warm and precious to him. He noted they seemed especially soft whenever she spoke of or thought on the Riegan brat.
"She really takes after you both, doesn't she?" Aelfric said one day when they were coordinating knight and priests and monks for...something involving the Abyss. Jeralt didn't bother remembering. It was just everyday management of the knights.
He looked down from the balcony they stood on that looked over the monastery's lake. Below he saw Byleth holding a bouquet of flowers of different kinds and handing them to her students and fellow teachers that were around this area. All of them smiled and likely thanked her for the gift, an expression she returned before she left, her bouquet still rather large.
Jeralt frowned deeper at his old friend.
"What do you mean? I know she's good in a fight, but she's like her mother, not me."
It seemed he still thought unusual things.
The priest looked shocked for some reason before he laughed. If Jeralt could, he would've frowned all the more. But he couldn't, so he settled for saying in a scolding tone,
"Aelfric."
"Sorry, sorry. It's just...well, I don't blame you. She did have trouble expressing herself when she arrived. Yet now she's more talkative than you," he said with a teasing smile.
"Aelfric..."
That made the teasing look all the worse. Thankfully his old friend got to the point and said,
"But she's giving flowers out just like you."
"Her mother liked flowers."
"Yes, but she never used them to convey her feelings, now did she?" Now he was outright smirking. "And we know who's more of a gift giver and person of action between you and her."
Jeralt huffed and looked away, unable to retort.
It was true after all.
And he would admit, he missed his old friend. He wished he didn't have to distance himself from him for the last twenty and so years.
He could do without the teasing though.
But perhaps the one thing that was both equal parts annoying, amusing and resigning, was that one day, was that Byleth was obviously developing a crush.
And that crush was the brat, Claude von Riegan...who also had a crush on her.
That was what he was all he was willing to call the way they looked at each other, and the few blushes Byleth ever had shown being caused by him, but the main reason was well...
"I can't believe I'm watching this..."
...was how absolutely oblivious both were to each other's feelings.
Aelfric covered his mouth but it did little to hide his laughter. Jeralt glared at him briefly before returning his sight before him.
It was the night of the ball and he managed to not only return to the monastery but have time off. And on the dancefloor was Byleth and Claude, dancing together with smiles on their faces, eyes only on each other and both wearing a flower pinned to their lapel. For Claude, a bluebell. For Byleth, a flower most would mistake as a strange lily but was in fact an Almyran called a lotus.
It reminded him of himself with Sitri.
"Can you fault her? It isn't as if you or Sitri knew either until I helped you."
"At least that Riegan brat should say something..."
"You do remember they are teacher and student, yes?"
"That'll hardly matter to Byleth. The most she'd do is keep up appearances for his sake since he's the heir of the Leicester Alliance."
If she had been that worried of other's opinions of her, she wouldn't have worn her favorite tights despite Seteth's constant complaints about it or bothered to give out flowers to everyone she wished to gift them to despite how many could misconstrue her intentions as insidious.
Aelfric chuckled. "I thought as much."
Jeralt huffed but said nothing more as he downed a drink, his own personal one of course.
It wasn't long until the current song ended, with neither Byleth nor Claude having changed dancing partners during it. And then the brat's gaze pointed Jeralt's way and his face lit up for some reason. Jeralt frowned deeper as the Riegan brat said something to his daughter to make her glance to him for a moment with a slight scowl. Before he could do more than stand up though, the brat said something else that made Byleth shake from a chuckle and had her walk to him.
"Byleth?" he said, now confused.
But then his breath left him.
Byleth was smiling. A full smile, one the brightened the rest of her face, as she reached over and grabbed him by his arm.
"Come Father. Let's dance too."
"What? Byleth. You know I don't dance."
His little girl laughed. "I know. But neither did I until now. Just let me lead."
With that, the were on the dancefloor and his Byleth moved his arm into position for a waltz, looking at him expectantly for his answer.
Jeralt smiled. "All right. Lead the way, kid."
And then they danced. It was barely a waltz, Jeralt more often than not tripping or stepping on his daughter's feet and tensing from being so close to so many people, ready to lash out thanks to years on the road. But with each moment Byelth either laughed, smiled brighter or teased him and Jeralt felt what little of his worries melt away and all he could focus on was the woman Byleth has become.
It was then he decided he'd tell Byleth about Sitri, and how much she also loved flowers.
But of course, after the ball, there was work to do, for the both of them.
As annoyed as he was over that, he decided to take the chance to find and purchase Sitri's favorite flower. He would use the pressed flower as both a surprise inside his daughter's first flower book and as an ice breaker for the topic of her mother. It would be a good way to both reminisce her growing up as well as tell her about Sitri's life.
Except he would never get the chance to, as old age and a strange sense of weighted burden meant he was stabbed in a fatal point at the back.
Damn it. And just when Byleth was finally opening up...
He didn't get to let her know...how much he loved her...
But as he lay dying, his energy draining and his lungs straining, he felt himself being moved and it was then he saw his daughter looking down at him...with her very first tears.
And that's when he knew that she knew he loved her.
So he couldn't help but say,
"Sorry... It looks like...I'm going to have to leave you now. To think that the first time I see you cry... your tears would be for me. It's sad, and yet...I'm happy for it. Thank you...kid."
And he let himself rest.
"Byleth?"
Byleth was startled a bit but calmed down upon recognizing the voice.
"How are you feeling?" Khalid, or rather Claude as he was still here in Fódlan, said as he squeezed her hand in comfort.
"I'm fine. Just...remembering," she said.
"Really? Your memory's getting better?"
She nodded and hummed as she kneeled down towards the grave to place her bouquet, made up of anemones, hydrangeas and, most importantly for her, orange sword lilies.
"I'm glad. Does that mean you remembered stuff about you and Jeralt?"
She nodded and hummed once again as she leaned on him, spending a few moments in silence. But that was all she afforded herself. Though they had a break, they had only just won the war, so there was much to be done ans their break wouldn't be that long. So when she was settled on relaxing against her love, she brought him with her to her room, where he started to help her with moving her stuff to the place she would reside now that she ruled Fódlan, no thanks to her deer.
In the middle of it though, Khalid found something that interested him and he said,
"What're these?"
And Byleth turned to see it.
"Oh. Those... Those are my flower books."
"Flower books? Now how come I didn't know about these until now," Khalid said as he settled on her bed to begin perusing.
Byleth rolled her eyes but smiled as she sat with him. "I just forgot to show you. Nothing else to it. Now put that down and let's get back to packing."
"Well all the more reason to look."
Before either of them could say more, the second he opened the book, they stared at what they saw.
Above her first pressed flower, an orange sword lily, was another one. It was a green gerbera daisy on an aged parchment, and it was paired with an equally weathered letter.
And then Byleth cried and smiled, holding Khalid close as she read her father's note.
Hey kid. This was your mom's favorite flower. I found it in a market that sold foreign stuff and gave it to her just because it reminded me of her and her hair. But I'm glad I picked it. It's supposed to mean happiness. And she made me very happy. Just like you. I'm happy you're my daughter.
Author's Notes: Just...pretend that Cindered Shadows did happen but like, instead Aelfric didn't die because I unintentionally gave him a dynamic with Jeralt I liked and thus wanted him to stick around?
Anyways yay! My first Fire Emblem one-shot! And I finished it in one day too. I'm pretty happy about that.
So a couple of things I wanna say.
Yes I headcanon that Byleth, both male and female, knows flower language before arriving at Garreg Mach and likes flowers just like Sitri. And Jeralt too. It's cause of that that when I was talking about Byleth and the flower giving thing to a friend, this spawned from that conversation. And I really enjoyed writing it. Idk I'm always a sucker for a parent's perspective on their kid. And also flower language.
Also just like the thought of Jeralt being just "really?" over Byleth and Claude's unintentional pining instead of the usual "protective dad" thing, mostly 'cause it's funnier for me that even Jeralt can see it, and partially 'cause I figured he knows Byleth would whoop Claude's butt, verbally and/or physically, if he did anything stupid towards her.
And for anyone curious, and just 'cause I wanna, here are the list of flowers by order of first appearance and their meanings. Note that I did minimum research to it so feel free to correct me (and give a source if possible).
Daffodil - new beginnings.
Gladiolus or "sword lily" - remembrance, faithfulness, and sincerity. They come in all sorts of colors, including orange (the color I think of for Jeralt) and green (the color I think of for Byleth). Hence the title of this fic.
Yellow roses - friendship.
Bluebell - gratitude and humility. But they can also symbolize constancy and everlasting love. Which was unintentional on Byleth the first time she gave one to Claude but now completely is.
Lotus -purity, enlightenment, self-regeneration and rebirth. Supposedly Zoroastrians also believe that lotus is sacred because something incredible can happen in a bad situation, so a poor background cannot justify bad behavior, which was what I found from looking up "persian flowers".
Anemone - protection, anticipation, and sacrifice.
Hydrangea - love, family, unity and fidelity.
Gerbera daisy - happiness. Though it doesn't seem green has a specific meaning, despite me reading that gerbera daisies can be green.
