The Progenitor God's Harem (Chapter 6)

Heyyo, my amazing patrons! Here it is, the first part of the Ingrid chapter! Now, you'll note that I said (first part) as I chose to split up Ingrid's time in the limelight. Now why did I do that? Well, for starters, I loooooooooooove Ingrid and she's one of my favorite characters/romance/units to use in Fire Emblem Three Houses and Three Hopes. She's well-written and has some deep characterization that I vibed with in the game. But she's also pretty straight-laced and I cannot see her just jumping into bed with Byleth right away. As the chapter hints at, Ingrid has some past trauma (i.e. Glenn) that she needs to work out firstly.

So, I wanted to split it up into two parts (maybe even three depending). That, and I also wanted to get something out before the month was over. Trying to get this right and in-character as possible was my main goal and I didn't want to write Ingrid OOC in any way. Granted, I do take liberties here and there, but for the main part, I try to keep characters as inline with their canon personas as I can. Don't worry though, as I do mean to write the second smutty part of this chapter after this. So look forward to that!

Thanks again for your support!

Disclaimer: All characters who participate in lewd or sexual acts are above the age of consent.

Byleth had never been fond of getting involved in lord’s and lady’s love affairs. Often it was due to petty grievances and slights that usually resulted in nasty secrets becoming revealed, families breaking apart, or worst of all, deaths. Thankfully, his father had felt the same as him, deciding for the betterment of his mercenary company to stay far away from such pathetic squabble. Unfortunately for Byleth, this was all before he became teacher to several female students with powerful crests residing in their bloodlines.

A few days ago, Ingrid had received a marriage proposal from her father about a wealthy suitor who was offering a rotund dowry for her and her family. This was usually the case, or at least Byleth had seen this many times over, where a suitor, who was most often male, would attempt to woo the crest bearer’s family with land, gold, and promises of undying love. Sometimes those promises may have been true, at one time, but if the abundant offers that his father received about payback from scorned lovers were anything to go by, then true love seemed to be just for fairy tales.

It only got worse once Dorothea explained about the enterprising noble’s sordid past involving his “blood money” as the songstress put it. Apparently, in the past, the noble had tried to court Dorothea when she was an up-and-coming singer. In this case, he coveted the Crest of Daphnel that Ingrid bore. Like all other cases before this was yet another annoying case of nobles craving crests all in the sake of strengthening their lineage and status. If this had been before coming to Garreg Mach, Byleth wouldn’t have spared a single second and left the nobles to their own devices.

But since it involved one of his students…

After sparing the time to travel and investigate the sordid rumors surrounding Ingrid’s new suitor, there was not a doubt in Byleth’s or his students minds that this man, if he could even be called such a term, was not suitable for Ingrid’s hand in marriage. Extortion, racketeering, and attempted murder, all of it was discovered after speaking to a handful of the man’s associates and his victims. This was compounded along with his attempted kidnapping of Ingrid after finding out about said extortion, racketeering, and attempted murder. The mercenary company that the suitor had hired Byleth hadn’t even heard of, which said plenty about their abilities as hired killers.

Even if Byleth hadn’t been there to help, he was sure that his students would be more than capable of handling themselves. Watching as they dispatched the mercs with relative ease, the former mercenary felt a sense of pride in his pupils as they fought to defend one of their own. Now they were back in the monastery with minor injuries, including himself after defending Ingrid from a stray arrow. Byleth supposed that he could have used a divine pulse to rewind before being hit by the arrow, but it would have been a waste of energy. The arrow had hit him in a non-life-threatening area, that being his shoulder, and resulted in barely a nick. He had gotten much worse back in his old mercenary days of working under his father’s command. All that mattered was Ingrid and the others were safe. His life, and his body, were forfeit when it came to his student’s safety.

Right now, Byleth was with Dorothea in the dining hall, waiting for Ingrid to bring them up to speed. He had to calm the songstress, who was imploring him to go and see Manuela to inspect his, again, minor injury. No matter how much he tried to explain, the worry never left her eyes. It charmed him by how much Dorothea cared, which once again instilled upon him that he was unworthy of such a compassionate person’s affection. Thankfully for him, as soon as Ingrid entered the hall, Dorothea’s attention quickly turned to her.

“Ingrid!” Dorothea’s voice pitched higher as her eyes met with Ingrid’s beautiful green orbs. “Welcome back. Did you speak with your father?” As soon as they had returned to the monastery, the blonde noblewoman had promised via letter that she would speak to her father regarding what had transpired with her suitor and the band of mercs that had tried to kill them, along with kidnapping herself. Within the letter, aside from vigorous anger towards the corrupt noble man that had tried to murder her friends and teacher, it was clear that she felt guilt for endangering their lives and leading to the professor’s injury. As always however, Byleth remained humble and considerate, waylaying any such concerns Ingrid may have had. Such modesty was just another reason why Dorothea loved her professor.

“I did. I just returned to the monastery.” Ingrid’s eyes turned to the professor, her brow furrowing with concern. “Professor, how is your arm? Better, I hope.”

Byleth nodded immediately, as he was in no mood to have yet another one of his students fawn over him. While at first endearing, the constant barrage of well-wishes was starting to become somewhat annoying. “I am fine. There is no need for concern at all. As I stated in the last letter of correspondence, my mobility remains unhindered, and my arm will have no problem wielding a sword in the future.”

Ingrid blew out a large puff of air, as if she had been holding it all in. “That is a relief to hear. When you dashed in front of me and I saw the arrow lodge into your shoulder, I thought…” She stopped, her eyes flickering from the floor back to her teacher. “…never mind. I’m just grateful that you’re okay.”

“Your safety was all that mattered in that moment. I wasn’t about to let some no-name mercenaries hurt you, or anyone else. I only feel shame that I let my guard down that resulted in my injury.” If his father or sister had been there, Byleth knew that he’d have never heard the end of it from either of them. “Enough of that. What happened with the proposal?”

“Cutting to the point as usual. I’m glad that hasn’t changed, professor.” Ingrid smiled, though her cheeks were brighter than they were just a moment ago. Something that did not go unnoticed by the songstress standing across from her. “As soon as I informed him of the suitor’s unsavory tendencies, he rejected the proposal outright. Thankfully, not even the dowry was enough to sway my father. Were we to form ties with such a disgusting individual, it would bode poorly for our family, regardless of the weighty dowry offered.”

This time it was Dorothea’s turn to breathe out a hefty sigh. “Oh, thank goodness. I’m so glad it all worked out in the end.”

“Dorothea, Professor…I want to thank you.”

Byleth couldn’t help but smile at the girl’s awkward attempt at bowing while offering her thanks. Clearly, Ingrid had been raised with proper manners by her parents but was still rather clumsy with her bows. “Nonsense. It was important that we help you.”

“Not to mention that it was exhilarating; to rescue you out of the clutches of a madman and his ilk of irreputable scoundrels! Why, if I had the talent of screenwriting, then I’d put quill to parchment and create such a gallant tale. A dashing professor, a beautiful songstress, and their rowdy band of students go out to protect the stunning princess of Galatea-”

“Dorothea.” Ingrid stopped the daydreaming songstress in her tracks with a deadpan stare. “I’m not a princess.”

“In stature, perhaps not. But in my eyes, you’re the very epitome of what a princess should be. Besides, the truth is rarely portrayed in famous plays anyhow. The public want drama and action after all and sometimes reality can be quite…well bland.” Dorothea shrugged.

“I’d really rather not have what was almost the biggest mistake of my life put out for all of Fódlan to see.” Ingrid frowned, her brow furrowing even more than it was before.

Dorothea raised her arms, lopsidedly smiling towards the cross blonde. “So you say and so shall it be, Ingrid. Oh, I could never deny you. To think that some jerk almost got his grubby, putrid hands on you. I could never hand over my lovely Ingrid to some dastard who only wants her for her Crest.”

Ingrid’s eyes widened as she playfully jibed, “Oh? Do I belong to you now, rather than to myself?” She smiled, listening to the snickering of the songstress. “Hey, Dorothea…this is probably more than a little awkward, considering where it came from, but…here.” Out stretched her palm and in the middle was an illustrious-looking red ring with a pair of wings near the top and a gleaming azure jewel lodged on top of them. “I know that this isn’t much considering that you essentially risked your life for mine, but-”

A sudden squeal echoed within the dining hall, scaring several of the townsfolk and random students that were eating inside. Dorothea hopped giddily in the air, allowing her hair and breasts to bounce with her body. “A ring! Is this…No! Is it?!”

Byleth was quite befuddled, unsure of how to feel as Ingrid stood there, ring in hand, towards the songstress whom he bedded now, quite passionately, several times over. He knew that he should be jealous, almost furious even, yet seeing Dorothea act essentially like an innocent maiden, it warmed his non-beating heart to see. “A proposal? I hope that such a marriage won’t get in the way of your future studies.”

Dorothea, cheeks fully flushed by now, was beaming to high heaven. “Oh, Ingrid…I accept your offer!” Later on, after this incredibly awkward incident, the songstress would realize how socially inept it was to accept a proposal right in front of the man that she professed her love to many, many times. In her mind however, the fantasy of being wife to Ingrid, one of the most noble women that she had ever met, while remaining a lover to Byleth, the dashing professor of her dreams, was too much to pass by, even if it seemed impossible. “We’ll be together forever!”

Unfortunately, Ingrid wasn’t as receptive to the singer’s dreams, shaking her head. “Stop teasing me, Dorothea! I’m trying to be sincere. I…I wanted to find a way to emphasize how grateful I am to you. We’ve only known each other for a handful of months, hardly a fraction of the lives we’ve lived, and yet you still went headfirst into the belly of the beast, all in an effort to protect me. It made me…happy. So I looked for something from among my things that I thought that you would like.” She smiled at the singer. “I mean, you may already have one like it, but I thought on the off chance you didn’t…”

“Ingrid, you are just adorable and I love it and I would literally obliterate anyone who ever lays a finger on you without your express permission.” Dorothea winked over at the professor subtly. “…With some exceptions maybe.” Clearing her throat, she spun the ring on her index finger, catching it mid-air, and handed it over to the professor. “Buuuuuuuuuut perhaps we should lend this ring to our teacher for now. Our handsome professor can best decide on how to use it. I have complete faith in him.”

This time it was Byleth’s turn to blush, though he hid better than either of the women. Coughing awkwardly, while using his palm to cover his mouth, he accepted the ring and stored it in one of his many, many deep pockets. He saw that Ingrid seemed mildly disappointed, if that frown on her face was evidence enough. “I promise you that I won’t lose it. You have my word.”

“I accept your promise, professor. I gave the ring to Dorothea, so she can do whatever she pleased with it.”

Dorothea giggled in reply. “Though I still wish that it was a proposal. *sigh* What a wonderous wedding we could have had together…”

“Enough with the teasing!” Ingrid muttered through gritted teeth; her face as red as a tomato.

Byleth knew better than to get involved with the two’s ribbing, deciding to depart to Manuela’s office. Today was yet another encounter where she would relay her recent romantic troubles with men, how much she drank due to said romantic troubles with men, and what she would give to find a decent guy to save her from her current romantic troubles with men. And, as usual, he would stay silent, maybe get a word in or two if he was lucky and would keep his actual opinions to himself. “Try not to disturb anyone else with your teasing, Dorothea. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must depart.”

“Where are you going?” Dorothea wondered if he was off for another secret rendezvous with the archbishop. According to Rhea, it had been weeks since Byleth had gone to visit her, and the woman was…becoming quite restless. At least that was what the archbishop told her over their weekly teatime sessions. Ever since their first chat concerning her professor and him being the Goddess’s Chosen, Dorothea no longer found herself down in the pits of uncomfortable jealousy whenever Byleth was around other women. At first the whole idea of Byleth being chosen by the Goddess herself to bring about love, unity, and peace through sex seemed unorthodox and, to put it bluntly, insane. Yet, Rhea answered all her questions with poise and grace, never once losing her temper. And to be honest, it was quite nice to chat with the archbishop, even when they weren’t solely talking about Byleth. She wasn’t nearly as snobby or ‘holier than thou’ as Dorothea once thought she must have been.

“Well, I thought I would check on my shoulder before anyone else decides to nag me about it. I am grateful that my sister is off with the other Knights of Seiros, days away from the monastery. How I know she would pester me endlessly and never let me leave her sight. Not to mention that my father would never let me hear the end of allowing myself to let down my guard, if even for a second. The earful I got after rescuing Edelgard before coming here…my ears are still ringing to this day.” Byleth remarked dismally.

“You should be grateful that you have family that cares about you so much. From the few chats I’ve gotten with your father, brief though they were, I believe that he respects your abilities and cares deeply for you.” Ingrid replied.

“Mmhmm. And I’ve only met your twin sister once, but from the way she spoke about you, I know for a fact that she cares about you. Quite…a lot actually. I think almost every word we exchanged was ninety-eight percent about you. The other two was about what conditioner I should use after…killing someone so I don’t get dry blood stuck in my hair.” Dorothea gloomily stared at the floor as her fingers brushed through her auburn hair.

“Yep…that’s Bayleth.” Byleth nodded, thankful that the songstress seemed unaware of his twin’s borderline obsessiveness when it came to him. As for his father…it surprised him that the man would say something positive about one of his children, especially with somebody that he hardly knew. Perhaps Ingrid was merely reading too much into what Jeralt must have said to her. The last kind word Byleth got from his father was on his tenth name-day and he received praise from how his arrow lodged perfectly inside a man’s eyeball, puncturing the pupil on the dot. And even then, Jeralt was up to his neck in booze. Still, the words did make him happy to hear, even if his father’s breath smelled horrendous. “Well, I will take my leave. Welcome back again, Ingrid.” He smiled over at the blonde, ignorant to the sheepish grin he was receiving from her and walked away.

With the professor now gone, and the dining hall nearly empty, finally the songstress saw the perfect opportunity to strike. ‘Let operation Galatea Princess begin!’ Clearing her throat to get Ingrid’s attention, Dorothea gave the girl her best singer smile, which always made the elder men who tried schmoozing her back when she was an up-and-coming songstress to empty their wallets in a manner of seconds. “Ahhh, such a debonair professor we’ve been gifted with, eh Ingrid?” She winked.

“I…suppose so. Honorable and powerful are more terms I would use to describe him.” Ingrid lifted her head, sniffing quietly, and felt a pang roll through her stomach. Gently, she rubbed her abdomen and found herself walking over towards the meal counter, ignorant of the songstress’s calls for her attention.

“Ingrid! W-Wai-ugh…I swear, that woman eats about as much as ten Raphaels.”

One week later

Byleth had awoken early today, wanting to run a few drills to exercise his sore shoulder. Thankfully, his arm was making a speedy recovery, much to the relief and surprise of Manuela. Not that it surprised him however since his body always managed to recover faster than that of a normal soldier. Perhaps it had something to do with Sothis residing in his body? It wasn’t as though he could ask her since she seemed to be off taking another one of her naps again. Before he could leave the training hall, the loud tearing of paper got his attention. Deciding to follow the noise, Byleth was surprised to see Ingrid up this early, noticing the scraps of paper residing near her feet.

“That’s the third time this week. You’d think Father would allow me a brief respite after last week, but he refuses to relent.” Ingrid grumbled, tearing the last bits of paper between her fingers. Once the final piece had slipped through her fingers, the sound of footsteps could be heard closing in on her. With a quick turn, she almost leapt out of her skin, seeing the professor’s stoic demeanor staring back at her. “Oh, professor! Hello!” Her green eyes looked down at the scraps of paper, stepping over them with her feet in the hopes of covering her possible misdeed. If she were to get in trouble for this, then she would bear full responsibility for littering, but the contents of what was on the paper she would prefer to stay hidden. “Did you need something, professor?”

Byleth didn’t need the IQ of Lysithea to tell what was on that paper. Ingrid had been in high spirits after returning from her family’s home, eager to return to her regular day-to-day routine. Then things seemed to take a turn a few days ago with Ingrid’s furrowed brow making a return, the one that she had made just before telling Dorothea and him about the ill-reputed suitor that coveted nothing but her Crest. In order to honor Ingrid’s desire for privacy, he decided to play ignorant, asking, “What were you doing just now?” The frantic reaction from the yellow-haired student was enough to tell him that he made the right choice in playing dumb.

“Well, um, that is…I was just tossing out something I have no need of. It’s important to keep our spaces clean, after all!” Hastily, Ingrid bent to her knees and began quickly picking up the pieces of paper that she had torn moments prior until they were all bundled up in her hands. “Yes! You’d do well to remember that too, Professor! A clean space makes for a clean mind…or some such. Getting rid of things you have no need for is the first step to managing one’s belongings in an economical way.”

It was quite clear that the girl was lying through her teeth, attempting to mask what her true objective was. This made the tiny sadistic part of Byleth want to tease her, just slightly, “Oh? Well, if that is how you feel, then perhaps you could help tidy my room sometime?” The way that Ingrid’s cheeks turned a scarlet hue…she was truly beautiful, like a sunflower glistening in a verdant meadow. ‘Restrain yourself, fool. You’ve been having too much debaucherous fun with too many of your students. Dorothea and Hilda…not to mention some of the other faculty like Catherine and Shamir…my life is quickly getting out of hand. I blame Sothis for this.’

Ingrid was unaware of her blushing cheeks, tossing her long blonde braid slightly, imagining herself alone in the professor’s room. “While I’d love to help, I don’t want people getting the wrong idea with me being alone in your room.” She hoped to hear a chuckle from the professor at her attempt at humor but was left with an awkward silence instead. “Ahem…despite my father’s nobility, we’ve never been particularly wealthy. So my father raised me to be conservative with my resources, paring down when necessary. He also encouraged me to keep my living spaces immaculate, so the two go hand in hand, I suppose.”

“He sounds like a good father.”

“Indeed. In some respects, he sort of reminds me of your father too, Professor. They both are…good men in their own right. My father, even when managing our territory used up most of our family’s resources, he still went out of his way to ensure my comfort.”

‘She’s clearly attempting to avoid the discussion of the paper entirely. Perhaps I should bring this discussion back around before others begin to flow into the training hall.’ Byleth pointed to the torn paper in Ingrid’s hands, “What was it you threw out anyway?”

“Hmm? O-Oh, this? Just a scrap of paper of little relevance. It was already written on, so no good for notetaking. And obviously I can’t use it to clean my lance.” Ingrid shrugged noncommittally or tried to appear so. “So I tossed it. No need to hang on to inconsequential things, you know!” She coughed, avoiding eye contact with her aloof professor for a few moments before gaining the courage to ask, “…Did you come to check on me for any particular reason?”

Byleth shook his head in reply. “No particular reason. I was training in the other room and was just about to bathe when I heard a noise. That was it.”

“Ah. Well, if there’s nothing important, I’ll be on my way then. I, erm, still have some cleaning to take care of, after all. Talk to you later, Professor.” Ingrid placed a hand over her chest, trying her best to bow without dropping any of the paper scraps. “Right…well I…goodbye.” She mumbled before taking her leave, hurrying once she was out of the professor’s sight.

“…That went…uncomfortably.” Byleth said to himself, scratching his head. It was obvious that Ingrid was still having trouble regarding her father sending her letters of courtship from other suitors, but how could he properly broach the subject without upsetting her? “I suppose I will just have to wait until I find her with another letter.”

Several days had passed and once more, after a rigorous training session, Byleth found the girl in the same exact spot tearing yet another letter. He found it surprisingly adorable that Ingrid believed herself to be acting discreetly, when in actuality the opposite was happening. The sound of rigorous tearing of paper could be heard across the hall, hearing her mumble to herself, “Ugh, will Father never learn?! All of these useless letters are only creating more rubbish in the world!” His footsteps alarmed her as she swiftly turned around and was once again taken aback at being discovered. “Professor? Ah, I didn’t see you standing there. My apologies.”

Pointing to the torn-up shreds of parchment, Byleth blankly asked, “Yet another letter I need of disposing?” It was somewhat amusing to watch Ingrid frantically moved her body in as she tried to think up another excuse.

“Oh, ahh…That paper? Well, I…” Ingrid couldn’t keep the charade up anymore, sighing as her shoulders slumped in defeat. “…Yes, it was. Another letter from my father.”

‘Which means another marriage proposal. No wonder she seemed so frustrated.’ All Byleth could do was nod, waiting for her continue and allow her to vent any frustrations she may be feeling.

Ingrid couldn’t tell whether this was making her seem cruel or indifferent under the professor’s eyes. Even though she had been under the tutelage of Byleth for many months, it was still hard to get a read on what the man was thinking. “Please don’t think of me as cruel, Professor, but I simply have no need of such things. It isn’t like anything of importance was written on it. Here, take a look. Go on, I don’t mind if it’s you, Professor.” The questionable phrasing of her last sentence only hit her as the ex-mercenary grabbed the letter and began reading it, making her blush slightly. ‘Darn you, Dorothea. Why did you have to put such questionable thoughts inside my head?’

Ever since her chat with the flirtatious songstress in the dining hall, Ingrid found it difficult to look at the professor in the same way she normally did. At first the talk was innocent, speaking of homework or past missions, until it turned to weird topics such as romance and what types of attributes she found attractive in a man. Apparently, after telling Dorothea what those qualities are, it seemed according to the songstress that Professor Byleth was her type of partner; strong-willed, noble, and always willing to help even at the cost of personal loss. Ingrid tried her best to deny what the songstress was saying, but in her own mind, she could hardly refute how…eye-catching their professor was in many cases.

Byleth himself was ignorant of the girl’s thoughts as he finished perusing the letter, which was indeed another marriage proposal as he initially thought. “…Hmm.”

Ingrid let out another sigh, shaking her head at the same time. “Perhaps you find it somewhat entertaining. I’ve told you that my family has never been very well off, financially speaking. House Galatea branched off from House Daphnel in the Alliance. Shortly after, we were lucky enough to receive the support of the royal family, allowing us to attain nobility…to some extent.” Her brow furrowed as she went on, “But the territory we watch over is poor, its harvests meager. And our noble blood, too, has grown thin. Neither my father nor my brothers bear a Crest…I however do.”

“And because of that, your family expects you to marry someone that can help with your…financial instability?”

Nodding, Ingrid continued, “Crests are highly prized among nobles, which means that I too am desirable in the eyes of wealthy elite. Were I to marry into a greater noble family, that financial support could soothe our woes…”

“To be treated like a commodity, that’s not what you are, Ingrid. I may not know your father, but from the way he speaks to you in this letter, I can tell that he expects highly of you. Perhaps a bit too highly. I can’t believe he would use you like that…” This was the type of thing that disgusted Byleth when it came to the nobles. It was one thing to fight over land or gold. That to him at least made some semblance of sense, but people? To use children like livestock, breeding them in the hopes of bearing generations of Crest-wielders, it was incorrigible.

‘Noble indeed…’ Hearing those words come out from her professor’s mouth brought a smile to Ingrid, as well as a skip in her heartbeat’s rhythm. “Thank you, Professor. Your sentiment alone is a great comfort to me. You may find it odd, but despite my own feelings, I understand my father’s approach to all this. It isn’t that he doesn’t care about me. I understand it very, very well. Which is why I…” The words caught in her throat, stuck and unable to escape from out of her mouth. Then came creaks from beyond the hall, alarming her that others would soon be flooding in to train as well. “…I apologize, Professor. I must be going. But thank you for taking the time to speak with me. You’ve already done enough and yet you continue to try and help. You…you are a good person, and an even better professor, Professor.” She chuckled under her breath. “Good day to you.”

Byleth watched Ingrid leave, seeing the forlorn expression on her face. A loud sigh escaped him. This type of problem was beyond his scope of expertise. Order him to take over an enemy base, that he could do. Defend a merchant’s enclave from packs of wild bandits, easy. Helping a young woman navigate the intricacies of arranged marriages…that was something he was unfortunately unqualified to handle. ‘How could I even help her? Hmm, I could perhaps try to find someone suitable in this monastery? Maybe Felix or Dmitri? She’s known them since they were young, so surely Ingrid at least feels comfortable around them.’ Then again, Byleth thought, if that was an option, then Ingrid or her family would have already attempted to court them. There were other notable men here that could potentially suffice, yet getting in the middle of schoolyard romances wasn’t something that Byleth was adept at.

He wondered what advice Sothis would have for him, yet he already knew that sex was the most likely of answers. A part of him was tempted to call to the green-haired gremlin that resided inside his head but decided against it. ‘I have enough romance troubles already. Adding another into the mix could be catastrophic. Besides, I highly doubt that Ingrid even feels that way about me anyhow.’

Later than night

Byleth was awoken by a knock at his door, his eyes quickly snapping open. ‘That doesn’t sound like Dorothea’s special knock…or Hilda’s…Bayleth doesn’t knock at all…and Rhea leaves coy letters for me to find. Ugh, how I haven’t been caught by now is beyond me.’ Wondering who it could be so late into the night, he swung open the door and was shocked to see Ingrid waiting outside. “Ingrid? What are you doing up so late?” As Ingrid opened her mouth to speak, she stopped in her tracks, cheeks blushing, as her eyes stayed trapped beneath his torso. Confused, Byleth felt the cool breeze of the night air swoosh between his nude physique and immediately realized the error. Without another word, he shut the door in his blushing student’s face and quicky grabbed the closest pair of pants he could find. Putting them on rapidly, the former mercenary opened the door again, wondering if the girl would even still be there, and was surprised to see her there, but this time covering her eyes with one hand.

“…Are you…decent, Professor?”

“…Yes.”

Another few awkward pauses passed between them before Byleth’s mind snapped back to reality and he allowed his student passage into his room. He shut the door behind her and found her unable to look him in the eye, rather choosing to look anywhere than directly at him. “My apologies, Ingrid. I should have realized about my…lack of decency before answering the door.”

“No no, this is your bedroom, Professor, so you can wear-or I guess not wear whatever you choose. B-Besides, I shouldn’t even be bothering you this late but I kept tossing and turning and having these dreadful dreams about…marriage proposals falling out of the sky and men’s voices imploring me about why they’re worthy of my hand. I couldn’t even hear myself think and-and I just…” Ingrid rubbed her eyes, clearly exhausted by her inability to sleep. “…I just needed to talk to someone, and whenever I speak with you, I find myself feeling…better? Ugh, what am I doing? It’s too late for this. I should really-” She felt the hand of her professor stop her, softly grasping her shoulder. His grip was strong, surely from all those years of training under his father, the Bladebreaker. His body too, taut and toned, which she could see in clear view due to his lack of upper body clothing. “A-Ahem, m-may I take a seat?”

“Of course. Here, you can take a seat on the bed.” Byleth waited until Ingrid was seated before grabbing the chair nearest to his desk and sitting down as well. “Don’t feel guilty about waking me up. I…I also have nights where sleep eludes me.”

“Nightmares?”

Byleth nodded. “They come and go.”

“But they never stay away for long, do they?” Ingrid frowned. “When I was little after…after a terrible tragedy that happened in the Kingdom, every time that I closed my eyes, I heard screaming, the heat of flames billowing on my face, and the smell of smoke filling my lungs.”

“Is that what happened tonight, Ingrid?” Byleth watched her nod in reply. “Scary as they are, the bad dreams can’t hurt you. Believe me, I’ve had my fair share of terrifying encounters, both awake and asleep. The only good thing about a nightmare is that eventually your eyes open and you’re hopefully in a better spot than wherever you were in your dreams.” He grabbed a night shirt by his desk and put it on, seeing that his bare upper body was embarrassing her. She was dressed in the standard Garreg Mach bed shirt and shorts, with the Blue Lions sigil emblazoned on both. “Would you like to talk about what happened?”

Ingrid remained quiet for a time, letting the crickets chirping fill the silence. It wasn’t as if she didn’t trust the professor, but the thought of describing what she went through during the Tragedy of Duscur, and the lives that were lost, including Glenn…it wasn’t something that she could talk about with just anyone. “…Not tonight. Perhaps another time.”

Byleth nodded again, choosing to respect his student’s privacy. He understood that secrets needed to be kept and trauma wasn’t something so easily described. Being a mercenary since he was ten years old, he had his fair share of horrors that he underwent. There wasn’t such a thing as a merc without skeletons in his closet, and the Ashen Demon had scores of them locked away. “Okay. In that case, shall I brew us some tea? I have keys to the dining hall and it wouldn’t take long to whip us up two cups.”

That made Ingrid smile, grateful not to be pushed into discussing anything that she wasn’t comfortable with. “Maybe another night. Just being here and talking with you…it’s working just…*yawn*…fine.” Her eyes blinked tiredly, having been awake for several hours now. For some reason, the professor’s bed felt much softer than hers, or perhaps that was just her tired mind playing tricks on her?

“Then, for tonight, I think we can drink in here instead. I know where someone stashes some Chamomile lemon tea bags. Probably Lorenz or Ferdinand hides them. Possibly from each other. How about you lie down for a bit and I will wake you when it’s ready, hmm?” Byleth saw Ingrid nod wordlessly, lost in another loud yawn. He knew that by the time the tea was finished, the girl would no doubt be fast asleep, but if he simply offered that she could sleep in his room, her chivalrous attitude would no doubt force her to decline. The girl was too gallant for her own good, not that it bugged him. If most knights acted like Ingrid, or people in general, then perhaps Fódlan would have no need for war. Or maybe that was simple naivety.

“Mmhmm, that sounds…*yawn*…good, Professor. I’ll stay up, don’t you worry…and…give you back your…*yawn*…bed to you. I promise…” Ingrid mumbled tiredly, already fluffing the professor’s pillow and pressing her head atop it. “It smells…like you…mmmm…so warm…”

A few moments passed with no more words coming from the blonde student. “Ingrid?” Byleth called out quietly and could hear the light snores coming out of the girl’s nose. “Hmm, sorta sounds like Bayleth.” He posited aloud as he grabbed the blanket and slowly draped it over the sleeping girl. “I suppose this means that I’m getting the floor tonight.” Not that he minded, having slept in far worse places during his days as a mercenary. Luckily he had a spare pillow and placed it on the ground, lying beside his bed in case any more nightmares plagued Ingrid in the night. He gazed upon her sleeping face for a moment, brushing a few lone strands of yellow hair out of her face to tuck them behind her ear. She smiled as his fingers touched her, softly grabbing his hand.

“Mmm…Glenn…stay with me…please…”

The pleading in her tone was enough to tell him why she was plagued with nightmares. Byleth,, unsure of what to do or if he even should say anything, resumed his caresses, while whispering quietly, “I won’t.” And so he remained there, with Ingrid, brushing her hair for a time until sleep finally took him as well.