Where are we Going?
Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses
Rating: M
Characters: Seteth/Byleth
Read it on AO3!
It was her prerogative as Archbishop of the Church of Seiros to make decisions regarding the church, its function in society, and its functions within its own halls.
This was what he had to keep telling himself, staring at her open-mouthed as she delivered the news to him. It took him a long moment before her words really caught up with him, and he finally snapped his mouth closed, teeth clicking together. “You cannot possibly be serious,” he finally mustered, staring at her as if to see whether it was still her.
Byleth smiled at him, sly and scheming. He didn’t trust that smile on the best of days - it meant she was up to something. And no doubt that smile had been learned and copied from her good friend Claude… or Khalid, now, King of Almyra. Those two could get into so much trouble when they were together, even now.
“I assure you, Seteth, I am quite serious. Who better to perform the ceremony for Saint Cichol day than you?” she added with a knowing look.
Who better, indeed, than Cichol himself. He could almost hear her thinking the words.
Seteth would not win this argument. It wasn’t even worth trying to argue.
So he simply sighed, and nodded, and went to prepare for the service.
————
Archbishop Byleth did not get out of attending the service. She had to be there, after all, and she sat upon the seat meant for her, presiding over all who’d come to Garreg Mach for this.
But true to her word, she did not lead it, and instead watched as Seteth performed in her stead. And though he felt immensely uncomfortable, he had to admit some small part of him enjoyed it. They were making corrections to the story that Fódlan had been given, a little bit at a time.
Who the saints really were. Who the elites were, and how Nemesis had not been the king that people had thought him to be. It was taking time, but they had agreed early on that the church would be moving forward in truth.
There was a lot to correct, after a thousand years of Rhea and her machinations, keeping Fódlan at bay, stifled, in an uneasy peace of her own design, and locked away from the rest of the world.
Things were already changing for the better, or at least they thought.
Still, he was relieved when the service was over, and he was able to step away from the forefront, accepting the quiet compliments paid him by those of their friends who had been able to attend.
He waited with the congregation as Byleth made her way out of the cathedral, leaving through the doors and no doubt heading across the bridge and back to their suite. When he was certain that his own duties were fulfilled, he followed at a leisurely pace, for once taking time to enjoy the clear skies, the crisp chill in the wind.
By the time he returned to their suite, she had already changed out of her regalia and into something simpler and - she claimed - infinitely more comfortable. She looked up from her book when he entered, giving him a faint smirk.
“I knew you would do well,” she said simply, setting the book down after carefully marking her place. “But now you really know how I feel, in front of all those people.”
Neither of them had been made for the kinds of crowds that they had found themselves dealing with. Mercenary turned professor turned archbishop least of all. He knew it was difficult for her; he had never really appreciated how much until today.
“I hope you do not intend for me to take over all of these services,” he finally replied, moving to join her on the sofa and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “But perhaps it is not such a terrible idea, to find others who can be trusted to give services appropriately.”
“Of course not. We have others for other purposes. I just thought it would be fitting, having you give a service in honor of yourself.” She tilted her head up, pressing a teasing kiss to his lips. “But now that’s over with, we can celebrate your birthday properly.”
They hadn’t discussed doing anything special. In fact, she’d very pointedly avoided talking about it at all, and he knew the day itself had a great deal of things church-related surrounding it. So mention of any celebration now was something of a surprise, and he told her as much.
“I wouldn’t leave you to do such an important service on your birthday and not have something to reward you with, Seteth,” she said plainly, shaking her head. “But first, Flayn sent you a letter. It’s on the desk.”
His eyes lit up and he had to force himself to calmly stand and walk over so that he could read the letter from his daughter. She wrote to tell him that she was doing well, and still traveling; that the world outside of Fódlan was quite interesting, and she was learning a great deal. She remarked that her speech pattern had begun to catch up to the times, thanks in some ways to her time as a student, but especially from her travels and listening to all sorts of people.
He was glad to hear from her, to know that she was doing well. And she wished him a happy birthday, and called him Father in her letters.
The day was already perfect from the letter alone. He struggled to find his voice for a long moment. “She told us where to send a letter to for a response. It seems she will be there for some time, so proper correspondence will be much easier for a while,” he finally said, smiling fondly at the letter in his hands.
“We’ll have to write something suitable in reply. I received one from her as well, but I haven’t read it yet. I wanted you to have the first opportunity.”
Seteth returned to where Byleth sat, settling down and pulling her into his lap, holding her close. “Thank you, my love,” he said, voice soft and thick with emotion. “It means so much to me that you did so.”
She leaned back against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Of course, now I feel like anything else I do today will be greatly overshadowed by Flayn’s letter,” she teased.
His arms tightened around her. “That is very much untrue.” She had his heart, after all, and though he loved his daughter and missed her greatly, Byleth was here with him now. Sharing her life with him, as much as they were able to do for the time being.
“Well, in that case, you should definitely change into something less… stuffy.” She tilted her head slightly, pressing a series of quick, soft kisses to his jaw. “There’s somewhere I want to take you.”
She managed to wriggle out of his grasp, giving him a knowing look when he made a sound of protest, but of course he caved to her request, going and changing into a simple shirt and pants, comfortable and… less ‘stuffy’. Byleth gave him an appraising look, one eyebrow raising slightly before she gave him a sharp nod of acceptance.
Bemused, he followed her as she led him out of the suite, down the stairs and out into the monastery. It took him a moment, but he eventually recognized that she was leading him to Abyss, and he couldn’t stop the look of confusion from creeping onto his face.
Byleth almost laughed at him. Almost. But since he was following willingly, she took him down into the underground town, greeting those they came across as they wound through the tunnels. It looked… brighter, happier, and much more well-kept than it had all those years ago when he’d first followed her into the darkness.
He wondered, briefly, if she missed her former students, those who had been known as the Ashen Wolves. If perhaps she’d had a hand in the restoration of these catacombs. Judging from the warm reception they were receiving, he imagined it must be so.
So lost in thought was he that he almost hadn’t realized they’d left the normal paths and were now in darker corridors winding through the ground. It was oddly warmer here, the stones damp and moss-covered, more and more the further they went, until finally she pulled him through a small tunnel which opened into a large cavern, steam rising in idle wisps from the thermal springs that they housed. Sunlight filtered in from far above.
Byleth had clearly done some preparation, though, as she sent out a stream of magic, lighting small lamps that littered the cave: lounging on natural ledges, resting on the ground, even a few hanging from what he could see were stakes driven into the rock itself. The light cast a cozy, comfortable glow around the cavern, allowing them to see more clearly.
There was no one around but the two of them, not another living soul in sight.
“I thought you might like to relax away from prying eyes for once,” she finally said, oddly shy. “I knew of this place from… before.” Before the war, he heard.
“A certain underground lord told you about it, no doubt,” he remarked, though there was no jealousy in his tone. He knew they were close friends, even to this day.
She laughed, the sound echoing oddly in the cavern, skittering across the water and warping. Still, he loved her laugh, on the rare occasions she gave in to the impulse. “Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t.” She grinned at him then, mischievous and bright. “So what say you, Seteth? Care to take some time to yourself for once?”
“Not for myself, no,” he replied, leaning down to kiss her softly. “But for us, yes, I would do that.”
There was heat in her gaze as she nodded understanding, her fingers moving to help him out of his clothes, fingertips grazing his skin, mapping the planes of his body, the smooth muscle cording along his arms, his chest, his stomach. She allowed him to perform the same treatment of her, carefully removing clothing, folding them, setting them on a rock ledge away from the water.
They entered the thermal pool together, hands on each other, touching and grasping, exploring. She led him to a submerged ledge that could act as a seat, and he sank onto it, pulling her down to straddle him, letting the warm water swirl around them.
For a time all they did was sit, and touch, and kiss, until he grew hard beneath her, his breath coming in gasps at the deluge of sensation. Smirking, she shifted her position just slightly, guiding him into her and causing a sharp groan to spill from his lips.
She teased him with agonizing slowness, rocking her hips and grinding against him, driving him deep into her at a leisurely pace. Her lips found his neck, licking, sucking, nipping at the skin, drawing out pleasured moans from him.
It was sweet torture, and he allowed it to go until it was too much. When he could stand no more, he lifted her, standing and turning, setting her on a higher ledge and thrusting into her, watching as her nipples turned into hard peaks from the chill of air. They were enticing, and he leaned forward to draw one into his mouth, tongue flicking as he pushed into her.
He moved a hand to cover her other breast, massaging, thumb rubbing until she was melting beneath him, her own moans joining his and filling the cavern.
She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him against her as he pumped, picking up speed as her walls tightened around him in increasing pleasure. He felt her hand reach down, fingers rubbing her clit while his hands were otherwise occupied, and knowing that she was pleasuring herself with himself sheathed so deeply inside her only made him harder, made him want to push faster.
Faster, harder, deeper until she was coming apart beneath him, her cries of ecstasy bouncing around the rock walls, the splashing of water as he thrust into her and his groans the only other sounds in the cavern, until finally he too climaxed, throbbing inside her as her walls clamped around him, as her legs tightened and held him close, so close he found it difficult to discern where his own body ended and hers began.
He continued to thrust into her, drawing out her orgasm until she passed the peak and hit a new one, her body shaking with aftershocks of pleasure. Seteth held her through them, waiting until their breath stopped coming in ragged gasps, until his own heart had slowed to a more reasonable pace, before he finally withdrew, helping her back into the water and carefully helping to clean her as her shuddering slowed.
When they were finally recovered from their quick and intense lovemaking, she gave him another sly smile, pulling him to her for a slow, deep kiss. “Happy birthday, Cichol,” she murmured against his lips.
Something about the way she said it, her tone of voice, had him aroused all over again.
It was quite a long time before they finally returned aboveground, but he had to admit… it had turned out to be quite an enjoyable birthday after all.