Chapter Text
Rain splattered against the windows of Dorothea’s kitchen, looking out onto the street. It was too late in the evening to expect any passersby, so she watched the journeys of each raindrop from her kitchen table, dozens of eccentric tendrils leaving their mark on the panes. She tapped her quill absentmindedly against her chin. She was fortunate to find an available and unscathed townhome available within a mile from the Mittelfrank Opera House after the war. Filling her space with flowers, perfumes, and decorations just the way she liked gave her a chance to heal from the difficulties of that time. She was grateful to have a place to call home outside of the opera house for the first time in her life.
The candles illuminating the room were shrinking ever shorter and her eyes had begun to feel heavy. Composing a new aria for the Mittelfrank would have to wait. Dorothea needed her beauty sleep, and who would dare to deny their star diva that necessity?
She rose from her seat, careful to not scribble any accidental notes on her parchment as she set her quill down next to it. She stretched her arms overhead and yawned, winding down from another busy day. She had just left the threshold of the kitchen when she heard three firm knocks on her front door. A visitor so late in the evening was not unusual, even now that she was helping Manuela run the Mittelfrank. Though between the rain and the fact the company was not performing anything that night, she was surprised. Usually, it was Caspar, the opera house’s chief of security, stopping by to report a rowdy fan or that someone had requested her presence at a performance. Fluffing her hair and straightening her evening gown, Dorothea strode down the hallway and approached the door.
“Caspar, what’s wro-“ Dorothea stopped.
A figure, shorter than herself and dressed in a simple black cloak, stood in front of her. The other person was close enough for Dorothea to reach out and touch, yet their face was hidden beneath the shadow of their hood.
“Can I help you?” Dorothea spoke. Her voice wavered as she continued, “Is this about the lotion I ordered from that shady shop outside of town…?”
The figure reached up slowly and drew back their hood. “It’s me, Dorothea. Don’t be afraid.” Edelgard’s lavender gaze pierced through the gray, dreary deluge of rain behind her.
Dorothea blurted, “Edie, don’t scare me like that!” Edelgard flinched at her tone. “What are you doing out so late? Are you alone? Where’s Hubert?”
“I’m alone,” Edelgard answered. “I apologize for disturbing you at this hour, but I need to speak to you.” Dorothea’s shoulders relaxed and she raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Hubert is at the castle, unaware of my departure.” She bit her lip, suddenly seeming unsure of herself. She let out a long breath before asking, “May I come in?”
Dorothea looked the smaller framed woman over and sighed. She was wet through like a piece of parchment caught in a gutter. “Yes, of course. Make yourself at home.” She stepped back and opened her door for Edelgard, inviting her in. Edelgard walked inside and Dorothea shut the door behind them, careful to lock it. “I’m sure they’ll send out a search party for you soon,” Dorothea added, half joking and half worrying over what the castle guards might do to her house should they discover their Empress’ location. She’d be unable to get the mud off her floorboards for weeks!
She knew that it must be important if her most difficult to reach friend and leader of the new Fódlan explicitly sought her out so late in the evening. Dorothea could not help the dread that crept into her stomach at the thought of what might be on Edelgard’s mind.
Edelgard waved her hand, dismissive. “I don’t think they’ll notice I’m gone. Besides, I don’t plan on being here long.” She removed her cloak and looked apologetically at Dorothea as water splattered throughout her entryway.
Dorothea smiled. “Don’t worry about it.” A little water never hurt anything. She helped hang Edelgard’s cloak and led her into the kitchen. “Would you like some tea? I have bergamot,” she offered as Edelgard took a seat at the small table.
“Oh, thank you, Dorothea, but I really don’t think this will take long,” Edelgard spoke. She sat straight, hands in her lap, a vision of formality. Dorothea could see drops of water trickle out of Edelgard’s hair and disappear past the collar of her loose shirt.
“Alright,” Dorothea said. She cast a small flame into her stove and set a kettle on top. Preparing her mug, she asked, “What’s going on then, Edie?”
Edelgard nodded. “First, allow me to provide context.”
Dorothea crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. She nodded back, letting Edelgard know she was ready for whatever she threw her way.
“The remaining born elites of Fódlan,” Edelgard started, and her gaze intensified as she continued, “though more mixed than they’ve ever been, have still not developed a sense of respect for those who are of the common class nor those who started there and worked their way up.”
Dorothea blinked. She’s come to discuss politics? She wasn’t sure how much help she could provide in that realm. The tea water began to boil, and Dorothea prepared some for herself.
“I believe I may have a strategy for improving their opinions for the good of all.” Edelgard leaned forward onto her elbows as Dorothea joined her at the table. “I believe you may also be the key to helping me, if you so choose.” A tremble started in her stomach, but she was able to calm it down with a few quiet breaths. Edelgard had practiced this conversation multiple times on her way there and she was prepared to see it through no matter how the nerves made her feel.
Nodding, Dorothea said, “We still have snooty, old nobles frequent the opera house these days. Nothing we can’t handle, of course.” She was keenly aware of the remaining friction between those who remained as nobles after the war and the commoners who started to mingle with them. Being the star diva gave her plenty of opportunities to mingle herself, and most still turned their nose up at her if it didn’t involve her musical talents or her showering them with adoration. “But how do I play my part in your next great strategy?”
Edelgard gulped. “I wish to start a… courtship.”
Beaming a smile, Dorothea gasped excitedly. “Oh, Edie! This will be great! I have a list of people who would be perfect for you upstairs, just let me go grab it.”
Edelgard grabbed her hand as she started to stand up and Dorothea could see her knuckles straining through the fabric of her gloves. “Wait, please sit.” Dorothea obliged. After a moment, Edelgard tilted her head and asked, “You have a list?”
Dorothea nodded.
“Of people you believe I could be happy with?” Edelgard’s voice shook with laughter.
Dorothea again nodded. She shrugged as if it was not a big deal.
Shaking her head, Edelgard continued, “Regardless, this is not about other people.” A blush tinted her cheeks. All her preparation would have been for nothing if she didn’t spit out her question soon.
“This is about… us?” Dorothea spoke, her voice lower than before.
Edelgard’s eyes found hers. “Dorothea, I wish to court you.”
“Oh,” Dorothea whispered, breath hitching in her chest. She never thought that this would be how things ended up between them.
“Not as a personal, romantic endeavor, but as a means to an end.” Edelgard winced at the way it sounded and pushed away the thoughts of self-doubt. She had felt romantic inclinations towards her friend in the past. Time spent over campfires and wistful dreams shared under starlight during the war had propelled her heart further into the clutches of tenderness. Edelgard planned on not letting those feelings resurface during this mission. “I wish to court you, publicly and openly. I believe if my assumptions are correct, we may be able to normalize relationships, romantic or otherwise, between the classes with our displays. I… we can never be sure how much time any of us have left, and I want to ensure my vision becomes reality before I am no longer within power.”
Dorothea had heard wilder propositions from strangers, and she found it a logical next step in her friend’s plans to rewrite the rules of society. There were still questions she needed answered before she would make a decision. “Why me, Edie?” Dorothea asked. She kept her eyes locked on her friend’s and brushed away the initial shock she felt from Edelgard’s question. How silly of me to assume, Dorothea thought.
Relieved that she was not outright rejected, Edelgard responded, “You happen to be in the special position of being within the minds of both commoners and nobles alike. An orphan turned opera virtuoso is quite the underdog story.”
Dorothea nodded. “Does Hubert know about your plan?”
“No.” Edelgard shook her head. “Every citizen of the Empire must believe this is a real relationship, and that we are happy together. I fear how he will react to finding out, both about us and, hopefully never, about the plan. Though I believe it’s for the best we treat him the same as everyone else.”
Sipping her tea, Dorothea’s mind started to race with questions. If Hubert wasn’t in on the scheme, how far was Edelgard planning on taking this? “Usually, a noble of your rank announces an upcoming marriage, not just any old courtship.”
Waving her hand, Edelgard said, “I am in the unique position of establishing new norms for Fódlan moving forward. I don’t plan on using this privilege lightly. Why should nobles be doomed to keep their romances private until marriage?” She paused, and Dorothea tilted her head. “Marriage should be for love, Dorothea. It’s unfortunate it hasn’t been all this time.”
“Well, Edie,” Dorothea said, a smirk on her lips. “I never took you for a romantic.”
“Ah,” Edelgard breathed. She felt her cheeks heat beneath the teasing look from her friend across the table. “I believe many will be happier with the change in the long run.”
“Perhaps,” Dorothea said. “We need to convince everyone that we are madly in love and that mingling with those above and below you can lead to beautiful things?”
“Precisely. And…” Edelgard drew a breath. “I will be honest that I’m not sure how long it will take.”
Dorothea laughed. “If our time together has taught me anything, Edie, it’s that your plans can take a while. You plan for the long haul, not just a sprint. It’s remarkable, really.” She turned her gaze out her window and saw the rain was splattering harder against the pane than it had prior to Edelgard’s arrival. “I’m not… involved with anyone right now.” She drew her gaze back to her friend. “Love hasn’t been a top priority for me these days.”
Edelgard raised an eyebrow, her curiosity peaked. Surely her success in reviving the local Opera House with Manuela had drawn many admirers to her door?
Before she was able to ask, Dorothea was moving on. “Have you ever performed in a play, Edie?”
Edelgard thought. “Would you consider the Flame Emperor to be an effort in acting?”
“Yes, I suppose you do already have an extensive background in alter egos.” Dorothea placed her chin in one of her hands, elbow propped on the wood tabletop. “There are rules to these kinds of things, you know? How we touch each other, what happens should we find ourselves with feelings for the other…?”
“I know,” Edelgard said. She gulped, unsure, once again, how to proceed. “You don’t have to have an answer just yet.”
Dorothea shrugged and lifted her head. “I have my answer. I just think we should establish our rules and boundaries sooner rather than later should you start to find my charm irresistible.”
Edelgard laughed, heat tingeing her cheeks once more. She refused to dwell on the flutter in her chest from her friend’s lighthearted banter. “Very well, though I think discussing the story of how we came to be together would be more beneficial in the moment. We’ve been friends for quite some time, so we can say that we started to develop stronger feelings, perhaps, after the war as the city was being rebuilt?”
“Feelings which further grew after the most recent opera debut, which you attended opening night. A sense of awe over my performance giving way to your realization of deeper feelings for me, perhaps?”
“That certainly sounds plausible,” Edelgard said with a laugh. She undid the top button of her blouse, suddenly finding the room warm now that she’d had a chance to dry off. Dorothea watched her fingers as she did. “We can come out about our relationship at the upcoming harvest ball next weekend. What better way to make an entrance?”
Dorothea beamed. “I like it, Edie. That will give us time to sort out those pesky rules too.”
“Of course,” Edelgard agreed. She peered out the window at the continuing storm. “Though maybe we should continue later. I feel better already knowing that you’ll help me.”
Dorothea released a timely yawn. “That’s a good idea. Some of us have things to do in the morning, after all.”
Edelgard smiled and stood from her chair, Dorothea following suit. The two walked to the entryway and Edelgard draped her still soaking cloak over her shoulders. She felt bad for bringing water into Dorothea’s home and made a mental note to bring her a gift to make up for it.
“Visit me at the castle when you can. I’ll tell Hubert I’m expecting you soon.” Edelgard drew her hood over her head. “We can change the world for the better once again, Dorothea. Together.”
Dorothea, accustomed to Edelgard’s propensity for grandiose speeches and hopes for the future, drew her soon to be suitor in for a hug and was relieved that the Empress returned her affection with a small squeeze. “I’m sure you’re right, Edie,” she said once they pulled apart.
Edelgard looked at Dorothea, gave a nod of encouragement, and left her doorway. She was quickly enveloped and obscured by the rainfall. The trek back to the castle was long, but the time alone gave Edelgard space to consider what she’d be getting herself and her dear friend into.