Chapter Text
Accidents happen. When skating on ice, cutting a turn too tight or too loose, or landing on your foot wrong could put you down face first with a bruise or two for your troubles.
Edelgard is no exception as a pair skater. She’s had her fair share of injuries in the sport, even witnessed just as much if not more. Accidents are nigh an inevitability, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t do her damnedest to prevent them whenever possible. Her skating partner, Hubert, shared her sentiment. After all, if either of them were to be rendered incapacitated, they wouldn’t be able to compete in Garreg Mach’s White Heron Cup.
But of course, fate had a twisted sense of humor and it came in the form of Hubert literally twisting his ankle.
In the middle of their routine, Hubert lifted Edelgard to execute a textbook jump only to have his leading foot falter during the lift and sent them both tumbling onto the ice. Well, Hubert did mostly. He proved to be an effective cushion to spare Edelgard from the impact.
And just like that, months of training, toiling to make it through the qualifiers, were gone in less than a minute.
There was no hope for Hubert to recover in time for the White Heron Cup, which left Edelgard to either withdraw from the competition altogether or find a new partner. At first she refused the latter option. Hubert had been her partner for years now, to suddenly replace him was unfathomable.
“I am already disappointed in myself for having injured myself in an amateur manner, and so I refuse to be the one to hold you back. I urge that you at least try to find someone else,” he had insisted when she told him her feelings.
She sighed. Then reluctantly agreed. With the Cup only weeks away, she had to find a new partner fast.
Naturally she looked to her friends. Caspar and Petra were hockey players, both strong and experienced skaters, but while their skating was precise and powerful it wasn’t quite what Edelgard was looking for. Lindhardt and Bernadetta were more of the group’s moral support and only skated on occasion (usually when they all came together to an event the rink was hosting). That left her with Ferdinand and Dorothea.
Ferdinand was a solo skater for the men’s division. He wasn’t competing this year, which made him free to claim as a partner. He was familiar with her skating style with how many practices and competitions he insisted on watching. Not to mention that his self proclaimed “rivalry” against her motivated his skill set to be nearly level with her own. By all means he would make for an obvious choice.
So she decided to ask him as an absolute last resort.
That left her with Dorothea, another soloist and one who was definitely competing. Still, it didn’t hurt to ask one day over the phone. The answer she received was, of course, the inevitable simple and sympathetic ‘no.’
“I’m sorry, Edie,” Dorothea added. In the background, Edelgard could hear the sound of children playing. Must be recess at the daycare.
Edelgard sighed and, even though her friend couldn’t see, she smiled. “It’s fine. I won’t hold it against you, you worked diligently for your competing slot. It would be selfish of me to take that from you. Besides, there is always next year.”
“Why not enter as a soloist?” she proposed. “There’s fewer contestants this year, maybe they can squeeze you in.”
She frowned, “I don’t know. It’s been ages since I’ve skated solo, let alone competitively.”
“Oh come now, Edie. If anyone has what it takes to skate solo it’s you. No offense to Hubie, but he doesn’t quite know how to relax does he? Always so stern and focused like he’s expecting someone to attack you both out of nowhere.” Dorothea giggled at her own joke. “Have you seen videos of your routines? The contrast between you two is glaring.”
Admittedly, she hasn’t. At least, not with the intent of seeing how they look together rather it was from a purely tactical perspective, watching every move with a critical eye with pen and paper at the ready.
She tried to envision it: just her and the open ice with a single spotlight on her lone figure. She pictured performing jumps without Hubert there alongside her; doing lutzs and axels alone on the ice like she used to when she was a teenager.
Her silence must’ve been taken as indecision and Dorothea’s voice perked up once more. “I booked a time to practice at the rink tonight but something came up. Why don’t you take over for me and see if you’ll give solo skating a try?”
“I don’t know...” she repeated, still uneasy at the notion.
“I could just cancel it anyway, there’s no pressure. If you change your mind, be there by six and give it a shot. You’ll get to have an hour and a half to yourself to see how you feel before the next person shows up, alright?”
A quick glance at her wall clock told her that it was already four o’clock. “Alright,” Edelgard relented. “Thank you, Dorothea, I’ll give it some thought.”
They hung up, leaving Edelgard to do just that. She leaned back in her desk chair with a deep exhale. She tapped her fingers on the armchair as an idea came to her. She opened her laptop to pull up old broadcastings of her and Hubert’s performances, the ones that she had spent hours analyzing and critiquing for ways to improve. But now, with Dorothea’s words in mind, she viewed them as a spectator, a luxury she seldom indulged in.
The contrast between you two is glaring , Dorothea said.
An hour of watching them all proved her right. From their height difference to their color schemes, it was hard not to see that they did. But that was simply surface level and inconsequential. It’s a contrast that has worked well for them. Her shorter stature made for an ideal partner for lifts and aerials and her signature red outfits complimented his black ones, making them both stand out against the stark white ice. There was no mistaking their silhouette in a line up.
However, it was their facial expressions and body language that grabbed Edelgard’s critical gaze. Hubert’s didn’t so much as twitch, even when they did lifts and jump together there wasn’t a hint of strain or expression. Meanwhile, her own face was light, relaxed yet focused. Then Edelgard saw herself grinning while on a turn, eyes still sharp. No, maybe not simply focused—determined. Determined and excited.
She loved being on the ice and has been that way since she was little. It was the one thing that connected her and siblings together in their youths and pulled Father away from work. It was relieving to see that her performances reflected that she loved the sport, even though it seemed that her partner was less obvious about it in comparison.
They always skated to classical music. That was another thing Edelgard noted in her exercise of viewing as a spectator. Again, it was something that has worked well for them. It offered a steady pace, one that was flexible to accommodate a variety of routines. The choice has netted them first place in some occasions and rightfully so. It was perfect and their routines were flawless in execution. But why didn’t seeing them again fill Edelgard with the same pride her past self beamed with as she and Hubert accepted their prize?
Because it was stagnant. And she despised stagnation. As soon as Hubert is better, their routines needed to see drastic changes. But that’s for the future, what she needs now is to unwind. Once more, she glanced over at the clock.
***
Edelgard laced on her skates, focusing on them more than usual to keep her thoughts from straying into doubt. It’d be a waste to not take Dorothea up on her offer, even if she was only here to take her mind off things and not to attempt a solo.
The first step on the ice was always liberating. It was a promise that she would leave the world behind and she was free just simply glide.
She skated along the plexiglass wall of the rink’s perimeter, similar to how people did so whenever the rink was open to the public. She gradually picked up speed as she did so, cutting into her turns with sharp precision. The sound of the ice scraping against she skates filled her ears. Its smooth scratch indicative of a well positioned skate blade sent chills down her spine.
Later laps gave way to playful maneuvers as she effortlessly twirled herself into skating backwards. Faster and faster she went. She hardly felt the cold, only the sweet wind in her hair and the flush in her cheeks.
Adrenaline and impulse shot through her system and before she knew it, she skated backwards once more, her right toe pick jabbed into the ice, and she twisted up into the air. The world spun three times before she landed with a single foot on the ice and the other leg outstretched to carry out her momentum. It was like her body remembered moves without her even needing to tell it to do any. When was the last time she attempted a triple lutz?
Her breaths were heavy from the laps as she let herself glide over the ice absently and she digested what just happened.
More? came a hesitant and hopeful thought.
Edelgard built up her speed and instead of a lutz, she moved into a simple axel jump. Deep in the recesses of her memory, her body pulled from her old routine from her younger competition days. She didn’t signal to the operator in the booth to play her usual classical music, rather she let the song in her memory guide her. It was nothing extravagant like what she and Hubert did nowadays, but it was fun and it was familiar. Like remembering an old friend.
By the end of it, her skates scraped to a halt at the center of the rink with her arms poised and bent at the elbows by her sides. She expected Hubert’s hands to be on her waist to ready for their finishing lift that went into a shallow dip. But all she felt was a phantom behind her. She had to catch herself before she fell backwards as she unconsciously leaned backwards into a skate partner that wasn’t there. Suddenly the ice felt too empty.
Then she heard clapping coming from the benches.
She looked over to see a woman dressed in a dark navy blue shirt and matching pants with tousled teal hair that fell past her shoulders. A pair of skates tied together at the laces hung over one shoulder and a hockey stick under her other arm.
Funny. Edelgard has met nearly everyone on the hockey team thanks to Caspar and Petra, but she’s never seen this woman before. As a matter of fact, she doesn’t recall ever seeing this woman at all around town, and that’s certainly saying something.
This must be the person in the next time slot. Has it been an hour and a half already?
Regardless, she gave a short bow to her unexpected audience before skating over. It was then that Edelgard realized how beautiful the woman was up close. The distance had robbed her of seeing her dark blue eyes that seem to pierce right through her and the strong jaw rounded with soft cheeks already pink from the cold of the rink.
Edelgard regarded the woman, “I assume you’re next to take over the rink, miss...”
“Byleth.” The woman filled in before giving a curt nod. “And yeah I am.”
Byleth... A beautiful name, and one that she would definitely remember from somewhere if she heard it. There were many things she wanted to ask the woman, but all that came out was, “Edelgard von Hresvelg,” and she stuck out her hand to shake.
“Cool name,” Byleth complemented and returned the gesture. “You still have ten minutes left to practice by the way.”
She did? A quick look at the giant digital clock on the scoreboard confirmed as much. “It’s alright, I’m not exactly practicing anyway. A friend of mine gave me her slot and I needed to unwind.” That was a lot to say by way of explaining herself to a stranger, and yet there she was. She mentally facepalmed herself.
Byleth hummed thoughtfully in response, and sat on the bench to lace on her skates. Her face seemed emotionless and made it as though she was simply uninterested, but as Edelgard observed there was a quiet expressiveness hidden within her features that she couldn’t quite map out. It reminded her of Hubert somewhat, though it was clear that Byleth didn’t hold stoicism as a means of intimidation.
“You looked like you were having fun,” the woman suddenly commented.
“Oh I—yes, I was actually,” Edelgard stammered. She cleared her throat and looked to the rink. “I suppose it’s been some time since I skated like that.”
“Busy with competitions?”
Edelgard chuckled. “Obvious, isn’t it?”
“The front door’s full of flyers. It’s hard to miss,” she agreed, tying her hair into a ponytail. The action showed off her toned arm muscles. Edelgard swallowed in spite of herself. “You skate for the singles division?”
She snapped her gaze away from the woman’s arms. “No I don’t. I haven’t since I was a teenager.”
Byleth quirked a brow. Then nodded to herself, as if something had been confirmed. “That’s good then. You looked lonely out there.”
Edelgard’s breath hitched. Words were rendered nonexistent and she was left to watch as Byelth hopped over the barrier, forgoing the door altogether, and started skating laps around the perimeter. On one hand, hearing an outsider’s point of view was validating and a sign that perhaps she too used to pair skating to go solo even if it was for a short time; but on the other it also meant that she was back to square one. She still didn’t have a replacement to keep her in the competition.
She sighed. It looks like she will have to wait for next year’s White Heron Cup. She’ll have to contact Alois to confirm her withdrawal.
That would’ve been the end of her night: unlacing her skates and driving home to lament the missed opportunity and perhaps even think about this Byleth, the mysterious stranger at the rink. But it wasn’t. The resounding crunch of blades across ice lulled her attention to watch the woman practice.
Like Edelgard before her, Byleth picked up speed as she rounded each turn. Her strides were strong and precise, reminding Edelgard of hockey players and how they sacrificed grace for power. But where hockey players often kept their torso bent over and strides long and fast for aerodynamics and momentum, there was a way Byleth’s strides looked that broadcasted a figure skater’s agility. Perhaps it was because of the way she leaned into those turns, or how her muscles arms were raised and bent at the elbows, poised for a dance that Edelgard knew all too well.
Byleth signalled to the operator up in the window and blaring trumpets and jaunty drums indicative of electro swing music poured out from the speakers. An... interesting choice to say the least for a woman who came off so calm and restrained. It piqued Edelgard’s curiosity all the same and she made herself comfortable in her seat, awaiting what the woman had in store.
To call what came next a routine would be inaccurate. It was like Byleth was a musician and she was playing her body to a tune she had come up with on the spot, skating freely and solely on instinct. Flying across the ice with power and grace interwoven, Byleth never missed a beat of the fast paced song that accompanied her.
The randomized flow of movement was melodious to Edelgard’s enraptured gaze. From where she stood, she could see expressiveness not apparent when they were face to face. Those cornflower blue eyes sharpened whenever the woman went to perform a pick jump in time with a downbeat, then relaxed into satisfaction once she landed with expert ease. Move after move, Edelgard leaned further forward until she was all but hanging off of the wall lest missed a single detail. There were even moments of unconventional maneuvers, ones that had the woman skidding over the ice on her knees before recovering to stand in one smooth motion. There were even ones where Edelgard would swear that when Byleth skated backwards, one arm was outstretched, as if reaching for someone’s hand.
She knew that signal well and her own hand twitched in habitual response to the familiar action.
Who was this woman?
Again she sifted through her memories for any clue or indication of familiarity in this stranger, surely someone with this level of skill would’ve made an appearance in a competition or two. But there was nothing.
All too soon, Byleth’s dance came to an end as she spun at the center of the rink, her arms tucked inward with her hands clasped against her chest before she halted with her blade sending a flurry of ice in a wide arc, and throw her arms out wide in a dramatic flourish, just as the music faded out.
A few seconds passed before Edelgard remembered to breathe. She applauded, her focus finally returning from whatever realm her spectating had transported her to.
Byleth turned in her direction, wearing the barest of smiles despite her heaving breaths before bowing.
Edelgard chewed her bottom lip. Could it be possible...?
“Byleth,” she called, surprisingly she didn’t sound as nervous as she suddenly felt.
The woman tilted her head, confused but skated over nonetheless. Her face was flush, sweat dotted her forehead and there was a sheen of it along her neck, causing stray strands of hair that escaped the ponytail to stick there. It took all of Edelgard’s willpower not to ogle her. “Hm?”
Ask. Just ask. “You asked if I competed, but I didn’t get to ask if you did as well.” Damn it. Okay that’s fine. Yes, lead up to the question, that’s probably best.
Byleth scratched her head, one eye scrunched in thought. “Only a few. Mostly hockey though now that I think about it. My dad used to play and helped me train more than my mom growing up. Oh yeah, I forgot my stick here. I guess seeing you skate made me want to let loose too. I usually do that after hockey drills. Thanks.”
“Y-you’re welcome?”
“Is that all you wanted to know?” Once more her head was tilted to the side. It was an adorable little tick, Edelgard noted.
“Have you ever skated with a partner?”
“If you count skating with my mom, then yeah I guess so.”
“But... not competitively.”
“No. Why?”
“I see.” Disappointment reared its head for the umpteenth time. She should be used to it at this point, so why did it hit harder this time? “Thank you Byleth. I won’t impede on any more of your practice. Have a good night.
She turned to leave. Until a gentle hand held her bicep. She flinched at the unexpected contact and she met those cornflower blue eyes glazed with genuine curiosity.
“Why?” Byleth asked again, softer this time.
A part of Edelgard’s resolve cracked. She exhaled through her nose, her eyes falling closed momentarily. “I was set to compete in this year’s White Heron Cup, but my partner sprained his ankle recently. I was told that I would be disqualified unless I found someone else to enter with. I hoped to perhaps extend an offer for you to be my partner, but I couldn’t possibly ask—”
“It sounds fun,” Byleth interrupted.
A pause. “What?”
Byleth shrugged nonchalantly. “I said it sounds fun. I haven’t done it before, but I can try.”
Edelgard narrowed her eyes. “You do realize what you’d be agreeing to. The White Heron Cup is nothing to scoff at. It’s one of the most prominent competitions in Fodlan.”
Another shrug. “Can’t be that much different. Just sounds like a bigger audience.”
“The training will be rigorous.”
“I can keep up.”
“We’ll only have a few weeks to not only get you up to speed on the fundamentals of partner skating, as well as coordinate a routine from scratch.” Edelgard raised a brow, crossing her arms in preparation as to what her response would be.
Byleth tapped her toe pick against the ice. Her eyes wandered about for a moment, her static facial expression betrayed nothing. Except for a small crease between her brows. Thinking. “I’ll keep up faster then,” she eventually concluded.
Edelgard blinked. Was it really that simple? How could she be so casual about this?
“Are you absolutely certain?” It was too good to be true, it just had to be. Yet Byleth's intonation was reassuring that it was all possible.
Byleth nodded. Then added, “One condition though.”
Ah. That was to be expected. “Yes?”
She held out a hand and jerked her chin towards the vast emptiness of the ice rink. “Skate with me first?”
Oh... Her heart fluttered in her chest and suddenly her palms felt sweaty. “A-alright. Though I must warn you that I'm not accustomed to skating to your style of music."
Byleth chuckled, so quiet that Edelgard would've missed it had it not been just the two of them. "Neither am I. I just wanted to hear something different today."
She raised a suspicious brow but didn't press further. Spontaneity, hm? She could respect that. Edelgard placed her hand in Byleth’s. Her hand was much smaller than she was used to, but also so warm... Yes, I could get used to this, she thought as the two of them glided over the ice, gradually picking up speed as bombastic trumpets kicked up once more.