She had a stuffed cat. A gift from her oldest sister. On the cold nights in Faerghus, it seemed the only warmth in the world. She imagined it smelled of home, as if it carried a piece of her family within it.
She hugged it in the carriage. Her uncle looked at her with disdain, but she ignored him, staring out the window. She was going home.
They dragged her. She had already heard the wails, the terrifying babbling of those driven out of their minds. She fought. She clutched her small piece of comfort.
"None of that, Edelgard."
But he was stronger than she was. It tore as he jerked it from her arms. That was when she couldn't help but cry.
He slapped her, hard. And tossed her comfort away.
Years passed, and there was no comfort, because comfort was weakness. There was pain, and fear - and then there was necessity. There was no room in her world for clinging to soft things, so easily destroyed.
Edelgard had dressed for bed, her hands bare and scarred. She was alone.
Nonetheless, she looked to make sure. As if anyone might be in her room - she had to laugh at herself.
She reached one tentative finger out, and stroked the soft face of a gift. She'd been confused, when Byleth presented it to her, smiling as if somehow she knew.
A bear. Very cute armor. Soft armor. Soft armor...! What a notion.
Edelgard closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Then she grabbed the bear, almost desperately, and clutched it to her chest. Buried her face against it.
Somehow, it smelled of home.
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