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#but i did just think the phrase 'lorenz with the long hair' and i want to self immolate
gembroni · 3 years
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I saw some old timey couple photos and I was like you know what? they invented that. they INVENTED love
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aonorunic · 5 years
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Armor, Fire Emblem Three Houses One Shot
Summary:  Hilda teaches Byleth the importance of a nice outfit, much to Claude's pleasure.
Read on AO3. 
“Is there something I can help you with, Hilda?”
The woman in question did not stop staring at Byleth. It was worse than when Claude first met her. She would catch him out of the corner of her eye staring at her, studying her like he would like to take her apart and figure out how to put her back together again. Byleth crossed her arms over her chest, fingers tapping out a silent rhythm against her skin as she waited for an answer.
Hilda took another long moment, eyes narrowing as she leaned forward to take in Byleth’s new posture. “Professor,” she finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence, “we need to do something about that outfit.”
Byleth, stunned, could only blink at the other woman. That was not what she expected at all. “What?”
“It’s terrible,” Hilda deadpanned. “We have to do something about it.”
“Why?” Byleth looked down at her clothes. No one had said anything about them until now. “What’s wrong with them?”
“Professor!” Hilda stepped closer and placed her hands on Byleth’s shoulders, staring straight into her eyes. “Think of it this way, your clothes are a type of armor. Your outfit creates a first impression. It can make a statement as soon as you walk into a room. Do you want to make people think you’re a kind and charismatic leader, or stoic and strict? Or do you want to give the impression of purity and innocence? You can use your clothes to make sure people don’t underestimate you, or get them to do just that when it is to your advantage.”
Byleth tilted her head, the only indication she was thinking over what Hilda had said. “That seems like a lot of work for a bit of fabric to pull off. So far my actions have spoken loudly enough for me.”
“True, but you weren’t Rhea’s heir until now,” Hilda pointed out. “You’ll be pulled into Fódlan’s politics now, more so when the war is actually over and you’re rebuilding society. You need to learn now how to use your clothes as another weapon in your arsenal.” 
“I thought you said they were armor.”
Hilda rolled her eyes and grabbed Byleth’s hand. “Come on.”
Byleth was too startled to resist. She was not sure what Hilda had planned, but there was a part of her that was actually curious. And it wasn’t like she would be trapped if she became uncomfortable or this little excursion took too long...at least she hoped so.
Hilda marched her straight to Dorothea’s room, not even bothering to knock before throwing open the door. Dorothea and Petra did not look surprised at all when Hilda showed herself into the room. “Hello, Hilda,” Dorothea greeted cheerfully. “Oh, and Professor!” Her entire face lit up when she caught sight of Byleth behind Hilda, a brilliant smile crossing her face.
“Dorothea, we’re going to dress up the Professor.”
Byleth, for the second time that day, found herself simply blinking in surprise. She was pretty sure her ears were actually ringing from that shriek. How was it even possible for someone’s voice to get that high?
“Now, Hilda-” Byleth tried to protest, but was immediately cut off.
“She refuses to see the advantage of a nice outfit,” Hilda explained.
Byleth did not like the look the two women shared. The part of her that had stayed around Claude too often wondered if they had staged this whole set up.
“Think of it this way, Professor,” Dorothea said, her voice dripping with poisoned honey, “when Claude walks into a room, what happens?”
Byleth thought for a moment, more judging what answer would diffuse the situation than having to remember what happened whenever Claude made an entrance. Her eyes were always drawn to him...She cut herself off before she could fall too far down that rabbit hole. “It depends on what he wants. Sometimes he had everyone’s attention immediately, or else he goes completely unnoticed.”
“Exactly, but let’s focus on that first example. He uses his wit and charm to gain attention. Now, not that you aren’t charming, but that kind of entrance just isn’t you. But you can pull off that same thing with a simple outfit change.”
Seeing Byleth was still not convinced, Hilda once more joined in. “I know it’s hard, but imagine if Claude couldn’t talk. He is going to a meeting of the Alliance Lords, so he still needs to gain immediate respect. His appearance will be the first thing they notice.”
“Breaking out his nicest clothes is not necessary in this case,” Dorothea smoothly took over the explanation. “It would seem like he was trying too hard. But he’ll still wear formal clothes that show both wealth and position, something that walks the fine line between showing off and showing up.”
Byleth had no idea what that meant.
“Now, picture him at an event such as a, let’s say a ball. There is no way he can command the attention of the entire room in his usual way, not without making a social faux pas, and in most circumstances that won’t gain him anything. He is going to use his posture and his clothes to draw in everyone’s gaze. Especially if he is trying to gain the attention of a certain lady love.” Dorothea winked, that lovely smile not slipping from her lips. 
Byleth blushed. She now had the image of an impeccably dressed Claude, his hair swept back, and green eyes sparkling as he looked at her while knowing that everyone else could not take their eyes off of him; knowing that Byleth would not take her eyes off of him. And if she could match him? She imagined Claude’s eyes going wide as he first saw her, his mouth opening in a soft ‘o’ of pleasant surprise. 
She wanted to put that look on his face. Perhaps there was something to what Hilda and Dorothea were saying after all.
“Claude is a duke, so he would be knowing how to…” Petra hesitated, turning to Dorothea as she tried to remember the turn of phrase, “....make an impact.”
Dorothea smiled at her, soft and loving, and nodded proudly. “See? Petra agrees. Now, with so many new allies arriving, we really should show you just how impactful our little theory can be.”
“And it would just be a coincidence that we’re throwing a small party to welcome said new allies tonight?” Byleth pointed out.
“My,” Dorothea gasped, “I completely forgot about that! Hilda?”
Hilda shook her head, trying her best to look innocent. Byleth did not buy it for a second. The two were devious.
But the look she pictured on Claude’s face still held her mind. She wanted so badly to see him look at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the entire world. Byleth sighed deeply and nodded her consent. 
Hands were immediately on her, and Byleth lost herself in the frenzy. She was still confused, but she found herself actually enjoying it all. By the time Petra was braiding her hair, telling stories about Brigid, she was smiling along with Hilda and Dorothea, offering her own quips and earning laughter from the other three women.
“There,” Hilda finally said. “You’re going to make his jaw drop.” She looked very pleased with herself.
“Him?” Byleth questioned, feeling strange with the long skirt of the dress caressing her legs. “I thought this was for our allies.”
“Oh please.” Hilda waved her off. “You’re not stupid, Professor.”
Byleth only smiled softly and shook her head again. She couldn’t be mad. She had wanted this for so long, and Hilda had gone out of her way to arrange the possibility of it becoming a reality.
/
Claude could not believe his eyes. Byleth was always lovely, but he had not expected this. The black dress hugged her torso and legs, only flaring out just under her knees. It created a soft effect, making her seem like she was gliding. The sleeves did the same thing, clinging tight to her arms only to flare out dramatically right above her elbows. When she moved, she sparkled, and Claude could see small beads woven into the cloth. Her hair was done in a dozen complicated braids, swept up to reveal the smooth skin of her neck A belt of silver in the shape of the ever changing phases of the moon completed the whole thing. 
She was wearing the night sky. 
When she turned to greet some minor noble, Claude could see the entire back of the dress was open, held together by black criss crossing ribbon. 
A spark of jealousy shot through him. He wanted her attention on him.
“Claude, your jaw is on the ground,” Lorenz pointed out, sounding much too pleased.
Claude’s mouth shut with a sharp click, causing him to wince as his teeth knocked together. “Excuse me,” he mumbled, not even looking at the men sitting with him as he stood. He even ignored Lorenz’s not so quiet comment to Sylvain about Claude being completely love struck. It was true, but still something he would have to pay Lorzen back for. Just now right now. Right now there was something much more important to do.
Byleth looked up as Claude approached, her face lighting up at the sight of him. Her smile went straight to his heart like an arrow. “Claude.” And the happiness with which she said his name certainly did not help.
“My, my, what do we have here?” Claude teased. “You look lovely, Teach.”
Byleth flushed, Claude’s breath catching as a soft pink touched her cheeks. “Thank you,” she said softly. “Hilda and Dorothea said I should try some new outfits.”
“Ah, that explains it.” 
“Claude? The Margrave’s contingent is here.” To his credit, Lorenz sounded sorry for interrupting.
“Of course they are.” Claude sighed and shook his head. “Will you excuse me, Teach? Seems I’ve got some matters to attend to.”
Byleth nodded, but she could not hide the sorry he saw in her eyes. As soon as he could, he was going to be back at her side.
/
Byleth sighed as she finally escaped the light and heat of the crowd. Tables had been pushed aside and someone had arranged dancing. She was immediately pulled into dances with partner after partner, seeing Claude in the same situation as herself. They had tried to reach each other, but there was always another noble to appease. 
Right now, she just wanted to breathe.
“Hey, good to see we had the same idea.”
Her head shot up, her heart still managing to leapt for joy despite its inability to beat. “Claude!”
Claude stepped out of the shadows, his green eyes sparkling as they looked her up and down brazenly. Byleth felt herself suppress a shiver under that gaze. “Careful, my friend, if you keep looking at me like that I’m going to get ideas.”
Byleth forced herself to meet his eyes, remembering Hilda’s words about these strange clothes being her armor. They most definitely were not, not in the traditional sense, but she had seen Claude’s face when she walked into the room. She had never before been able to disarm him so easily. And Hilda was right, that did give her a certain kind of strength. 
“What kind of ideas would those be?”
For a moment, Claude was speechless. Byleth could practically see him thinking, his brain trying to process what she had just said. But just as he did with everything else, Claude adapted quickly. He stepped toward her, his carefree smile gone. 
Claude reached up a hand and caressed her cheek, sending a jolt of want through Byleth. “Ideas about how much I want you by me always. Ideas like how I want to see you smile, or be there for you when you cry. Ideas about how much I want to kiss you.” 
Byleth leaned into his touch, her hands reaching up to lay against Claude’s chest. She could feel his heartbeat against her palm. It was fast, faster than normal she suspected. “I wouldn’t mind that at all,” she admitted.
She had barely gotten the words out before Claude’s lips were on hers. It was desperate, like he was afraid she wouldn’t be there if he let go. Byleth kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck, holding him as close as she could.
When Claude broke away, it was all too soon. “By, I…” Was all he got out before he was kissing her again, trying to tell her everything he was failing to put into words, too overwhelmed to string his thoughts coherently. He pushed her up against the stone wall, Byleth moaning into his mouth as their bodies pressed together.
This time when Claude moved from her lips, it was to trail kisses down her jaw and neck. Byleth tilted her head, offering the long expanse of skin up to Claude’s eager mouth. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and when she pulled he nipped at her shoulder. “Claude,” she moaned, only to realize how loud her voice was in the quiet of the night.
Byleth brought a hand up to cover her mouth, but Claude caught it, kissing the tips of her fingers. “I want to hear every little noise you make,” Claude said, his voice heavy with desire.
“Then we should probably find someplace we won’t be interrupted.”
Claude straightened, taking a step back from her. Byleth’s fingers tightened on his shoulders, desperate to keep him close. What had she done wrong? “Claude?”
He took a deep breath, leaning down to press his forehead to hers. “Byleth, I want this, I really do, but I want more than a single night. I want you, and I don’t want to ruin this.”
Her fingers tightened in his hair again, and she tilted her head up to kiss him. It was much slower, as gentle as their first was desperate. “I have wanted you for so long now, Claude. I love you,” she finally admitted.
“I love you too, By,” was the answer, Claude doing his best not to let his emotions overwhelm him. “I want to show you how much.”
Byleth smiled, pulling him flush against her and relishing the feel of his desire against her hip. She rolled her hips, drawing forth a groan from her partner. “So, your room or mine?”
Claude burst out laughing, shaking his head as he grabbed her hand and began walking her toward the dorms. “Yours is closer, and I don’t want to wait any longer than I have to.”
She did not remember the trip to her room, only the quickly stolen kisses and the desperate caresses. Byleth was honestly surprised they made it to her room at all. As soon as the door closed behind her, Claude had her pushed up against the wooden barrier, kissing her so desperately Byleth felt her legs go weak. His hands explored her body with more confidence, drawing delightful little sounds from her.
Her own hands were busy with his clothes, undoing buttons and untying laces, shoving the fabric away from him as soon as she could get it out of the way. “Well this isn’t fair,” Claude joked between kisses. “You’re still fully clothed, and here I am in just my small clothes.”
Byleth grinned and shoved him back, using the movement to push herself off the door. “What are you going to do about that?”
Claude matched her grin. Grabbing her shoulders, he turned Byleth around and began to undo the black ribbon keeping her dress together. She sighed happily when she felt his lips worshiping every inch of skin he revealed, until the black fabric pooled around her feet.
Byleth stared down at the fabric, leaning back into Claude’s warm arms.
“By?”
She shook her head and turned in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck as she brought him close for a quick kiss. “It’s nothing, just something Hilda said. She called my clothes my armor. I was just thinking how appropriate it is that the man who taught me love and joy is the one to remove them.”
Claude buried his face against her neck and moaned. “Do you have any idea what you do to me when you say things like that?”
“I’m hoping you’ll show me,” Byleth teased, shoving Claude back onto the bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes: Yeah, I did that.
I was going to write more, but honestly those last lines were the entire reason I wrote the story, and after that nothing I added on really seemed to fit. So, no, not sorry at all.
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fictionadventurer · 4 years
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OC asks: Sarah: 97-100; Lionel: 93-96; Jack: 89-92; Eliza: 85-88; Daniela: 79, 82-84; Alessando: 75-78; Floriano: 70-72, 74; Lucia: 66-69; Marata: 62-65; Jarrock: 58-61 ("crowed" meaning "crowded" presumably); Bastian Diriks: 54-57; Lady Diriks: 50-53; Lorenz Fortuin: 46-49; Anya: 42-45
Alright, here we go.
Sarah
97. Where do they live? Who do they live with?
She lives in an old house near the university. She technically has her own apartment (later gets Eliza as a roommate), but Lionel and Jack share a larger apartment downstairs and she’s basically allowed to come in and out as if it were hers.
98. How do they calm themselves down?
Go on long walks, rant to someone (or no one) and/or furiously write down everything she thinks about what’s bothering her.
99. Are they co-dependent?
She’d bristle at the suggestion that she’s anything less than entirely independent, but she relies heavily on Lionel.
100. Are they a day, or night person?
Mostly a day person, except for the occasional late-night intense writing/studying session.
Lionel
93. How do they deal with stress?
Ignore it and hope someone else figures out how to handle it. And play the piano a lot.
94. Do they have a more submissive or dominate personality type?
In a house with Sarah and Jack, almost anyone would be submissive by comparison, but even by normal standards, he’s a person who prefers to step back and let other people handle the problems in life.
95. Do they have a pet?
He had a bird for a few days until Sarah objected. He didn’t put up too much of a fight because he was starting to find it distracting.
96. Do they have a stash of weapons?
Nope. He wouldn’t have the first clue what to do with a weapon if you gave him one.
Jack
89. Can they remember a lot of information at once?
Yes. He remembers everything and it drives Sarah nuts. (Especially since the only things he can’t remember are when he needs to pay his portion of the rent or clean his part of the apartment).
90. What is their occupation?
Right now, a student of languages (which ones depends on the world I build around him).
91. Do other characters respect your OC, if so, is it out of fear? Or do they respect your OC because they like them?
Lots of people like him. Plenty of people are even impressed by him.  Few truly respect him. (Jack is not among those chosen few).
92. If they were given minutes to live, what would they do? Who would they want to see and say?
He’d try to figure out a way to get out of whatever situation leaves him with only minutes to live.
Eliza
85. Are they self motivated?
Extremely. Once she decides to accomplish something, there is nothing that will keep her from doing it.
86. How do they cope with anger?
Stabbing things. She tried taking up embroidery once to serve this purpose, but the holes were too tiny to provide a satisfying level of destruction. Now, she usually just takes a pen and goes to town on a poor innocent sheet of paper (and the desk/table beneath it) until her temper is satisfied.
On a less destructive level, she’ll step back and figure out a plan to overcome whatever’s making her angry.
87. Have they ever been in a situation where they were helpless?
She does not believe in being helpless. There’s always something that can be done, even if the something is impossible to accomplish by any normal standards.
88. Are they organized or messy?
Very organized about projects and plans. Slightly messy when it comes to organizing her living space. Very messy about tending her hair.
Daniela
79. Is there someone in their life that they care about more than themselves?
She cares a lot about her father.
82. Are they good at mental math?
She’s decent. She can usually compute basic math with a little bit of thought. If it gets too complicated she needs pen and paper.
83. Do they get along with others?
Yes. She makes a point of being pleasant, not standing out, and not offending people.
84  Are they lazy?
Not usually. A very solid work ethic, but some days you just need to relax.
Alessandro
75. What is their biggest fear?
Being useless.
76. What are their goals?
Keeping the kingdom from falling apart. (Though this is a hard question to answer when I still haven’t figured out the exact political situation in the revised imagining of the story).
77. How do they go about achieving their goals?
Advising Floriano from afar.
78. Do they have a fight or flight response?
If there’s any flight involved, it’s a strategic retreat so he can figure out the best way to fight.
Floriano
70. Do they like themselves?
Before he was crowned, yes. After he was crowned, it seemed like his every trait and tendency was something that made being king that much harder.
71. Who do they dislike?
People who disrespect Alessandro or their late father.
72. What is their motto?
Never give anyone reason to hate you. (This motto has been very difficult to live up to after being crowned).
74. Have they ever been abused?
After he becomes king, he deals with a lot of verbal abuse (behind his back, but done in ways that it’s impossible for him not to find out about it).
Lucia
66. What is their pet peeve(s)?
When people wear clashing colors. It drives her nuts and she can’t look away. 
67. Do they have a disability?
Not officially. Sometimes has trouble concentrating, but not to the level of disability.
68. How do they react to getting flowers?
She will spend the entire day making sure everyone sees her flowers and appreciates her flowers and knows how much she loves her flowers.
69. Would they ever wear a flower crown?
The problem would be getting to to take off the flower crown.
Mirata
62. How do they relax?
Sing. Swim. Pray. All things, unfortunately, that she’s not allowed to do openly on land.
63. Have they ever harmed anyone and regretted it? Verbally or physically?
She’s got a quick temper and a sharp tongue that get her in trouble frequently, and she almost always regrets it after a day or two.
64. Do they like to dance?
She loves it. Unfortunately, her style of dancing is also one of those things the land-dwellers frown upon.
65. How do they get around their environment? Examples - horses, bike, vehicle
She’s used to getting around by swimming or boating. On land, she will always choose walking over any form of transportation that involves horses.
Jarrock
58. How would they come across to other characters? Examples- messy, lazy, childish, caring etc.
He seems like the serious, dutiful son; an impressive soldier who’d never step out of line or have a thought or emotion of his own. Unless you happen to witness one of his bursts of temper that reveal his very passionate underlying emotions.
59. Do they have a phrase they use over and over?
Not really. (That’s the kind of thing that I’d have to figure out over the course of writing the story).
60. In a crowded room are they in the corners, sides, or in the middle?
On the sides, present and watching carefully, but not getting too deeply involved.
61. Are they comfortable being in a crowded room?
No. He’ll stay for just as long as he’s required and he’ll leave the second he’s able.
Bastian Diriks
54. How do they cope with sadness?
Find something to distract himself--before, it was working with stars, now it’s listening to music. It also helps to find someone who’s having a worse day than him and try to help them out.
55. What is something they care about?
Loves working with the stars. Loves the family business. Continues to care about both even after the stars took his sight and the family kicked him out of the business side of things.
56. Would they die for anyone/anything?
He’d die for his family. Half of his family would prefer it if he would.
57. What do they do when they are happy?
He can get, like, obnoxiously cheerful. Drives people nuts.
Lady Diriks
50.Do they enjoy the arts?
She’s a leading patroness of the arts, so yes.
51. Do they like science?
She likes being thought of as someone who likes science (because that’s almost as fashionable as supporting the arts) but she doesn’t really understand it, so she learns just enough to nod along and seem knowledgeable when someone else is talking about it.
52. Are they more emotional or logical?
She’d says she’s entirely logical, but there’s more emotion driving her than she realizes.
53. How do they deal with their emotions?
Bottle it up. Deny it ever existed. Then take it out on the people around her.
Lorenz Fortuin
46. When is their birthday?
Not a clue. I’m not 100% sure they even use Earth’s calendar (they probably do). The most I’ll commit to at this point is that his birthday is probably in the winter.
47. Are they quick to judge?
He’s very quick to latch onto his first impressions of people as being the correct ones, and it can skew his judgement, but he’s willing to change his mind if given enough contrary evidence.
48. Do they have anything they are trying to hide from others?
He’s always trying to hide his lower-class origins.
49. Do they act different around different people?
All the time. He’s a very different person when he’s hanging with the upper crust than when he’s only with fellow artists or people of lower classes.
Anya
42. Are they close with anyone who is going to screw them over?
How did you know this was the whole point of the story? (Okay, he doesn’t quite turn against her, but it’s a close thing at some points.)
43.How do they adapt to different situations? Do they adapt at all?
She’s pretty good at going with the flow--being observant, staying quiet when she’s not sure what the right response is. But when she comes up with a plan of action, she acts upon it, and doesn’t always think through the consequences.
44. How do they speak? Examples - Are they soft spoken, hot heated, vulgar
Has a strong lower-class accent marring an otherwise pleasant alto voice. Very strident voice when she has strong emotions.
45. Are they opposed to violence?
When it’s directed against her, yes. When she needs to defend herself or her people? Absolutely not.
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nicolewrites · 4 years
Text
i apologize for my divinity (it is never enough) - iv
hey hey i guessed correctly in saying this would be too long. with the notes i have, i’m hoping for one more part, but who knows at this point.
Rating: T+ Genre: Angst, Friendship, Family Characters: Byleth/My Unit, Claude R., Dimitri B., the Blue Lions, the Golden Deer Words: 8,019
AO3 | FFN
pt i | pt 2 | pt 3
iv - verdant wind
- ~ -
/ ethereal moon /
She awakens silently this time. No voice calls out to her from inside the deepest parts of her mind and no villager stands above her, concerned for her safety. Byleth is lying with her lower half in the river, soaked through. The Sublime Creator Sword is clutched in her hand. Her grip is loose around its hilt, but the sword is still glowing.
Byleth sits up and her head aches. Her muscles are sore and she's cold. She looks around. The ruins of the village at the foot of the monastery are abandoned and have fallen to ruin. The scenario is vividly familiar, but also different.
Sothis, she calls into her mind. Did you wake me again?
There is no response.
Byleth pushes herself to her feet and leans on the sword to balance herself. She squints up at the sun where it is half-hidden by clouds and frowns. It's mid to late afternoon, if her prediction is correct, but she has no idea when it is. She feels a cold uncertainty creep through her bones.
What happens if she woke too early? Or, worse, if she woke too late?
"Faith," she whispers to herself. "I must have faith that this is the right time."
Despite every aching muscle in her body, she turns towards the looming, half-destroyed monastery above her. She takes a deep breath and soldiers towards it. Her body protests the march with every step and she stumbles more than a few times. Her blade becomes more of a crutch than a weapon as she treks up the path.
The walk is familiar but different. Last time, there had been bodies of bandits lining her path all the way to the top of the Goddess Tower due to Dimitri's rage and carelessness. The paths are clear this time and it makes her uneasy. Perhaps the Golden Deer had other things to worry about than to show up at a place in complete disarray five years after their professor's disappearance.
She ascends the steps slowly this time. Her fingers trace gouges in the stone and she can only hope that she is on time. She memorizes the moment and compares it to the one in her head and she knows that it is the same, but it feels just slightly wrong at the same time.
When she reaches the top, she sees him. He's bathed in sunlight, staring out over the rest of the monastery. He looks different–older and more gathered–but she recognizes this Claude too. This is the Claude who tried to kill Dimitri at Gronder Field. This is the Claude who, when out of options, forfeited the whole Alliance and placed his trust in a former teacher and a formerly-mad prince.
Surprise writes itself across his face as he sees her. Then he smiles and it's the same troublemaker smile she was so familiar with from their time at the academy. The smile drops quickly enough as he walks towards her.
"Hey Teach," he says softly. His eyes are still the same sharp green that she remembers. They track across her face–searching and seeking. "You overslept."
The phrase is a joke, but the fear in her catches on the underlying accusation and she steps back. Her brow furrows and she tightens her posture to something less familiar. Claude seems surprised by her reaction and he steps forward, following her lead.
"My friend, you didn't really think I'd given up on waiting for you, did you?" he asks. "There was something you said to Dimitri and me before we went into that battle. It stuck with me and I couldn't get rid of it. You told us that people would need us and that we would see each other again."
"Claude," Byleth says, shifting her weight.
He studies her again. It's less familiar this time and more assessing. "Where have you been, Teach? It's been five years."
"I've been asleep," she says. The explanation feels flimsy in her mouth and the frustration that paints itself across her former student's face makes her wish she had more answers for him.
"Five years? You can't expect me to believe that. Except," he pauses, brow furrowed. "What you said to us back then. You knew this was going to happen."
It's not a question. It's an observation. Byleth bites her lip and her reaction is all Claude needs to confirm his suspicions. Uncharacteristic surprise takes over his expression and he spins away from her, running his hands through his hair.
"You knew what was going to happen." He says it again like he still can't believe it and Byleth feels guilt prickle at her. "That's why you wanted to know if we would keep our promise and it's why you knew I would be here." He turns back to her and the friendliness in his face is gone. "How did you know I would be here?"
Byleth's knees give out and she collapses. Claude doesn't hesitate as he breaks for her side, gripping her arms and pulling her into a more comfortable sitting position. He still looks uncertain, but seeing her collapse has made him less angry. Perhaps the regret in her eyes also has some part to play.
"Because last time Dimitri was here," Byleth says. "Because last time I went to sleep I awoke and I found him here and five years had past and everything had changed."
"Last time?" Claude echoes, surprised.
She tells him everything. He listens stiffly, but he doesn't move away from her. The admission that he was her second choice doesn't seem to phase him, but she is throwing an awful lot of information at him so maybe there's too much to be phased by. When she's done her cheeks are wet with tears and her breaths are shorter.
"You knew she was the Flame Emperor the whole time. You didn't tell anyone?" he asks.
Byleth nods. "I had hoped that I might change something enough that she didn't find it necessary, but I was wrong."
"That's why you were so shocked by what she said in the Holy Mausoleum; why it was so surprising that it was all in motion before you arrived."
She nods again. "I'm sorry, Claude. I thought about telling you everything back then, but I was sure you would have thought I'd completely lost my mind."
He shakes his head. "No, you were right. I wouldn't have believed you. I barely believed you about Jeralt and the goddess the first time. I'm sorry, Teach."
Byleth smiles sadly. "I know and it's not important right now." She looks him in the eye. "Tell me what has happened."
His expression tightened and that's all it takes for her to know and something inside of her breaks. She turns away and closes her eyes. Hot tears burn and she tries not to cry because it has always been a possibility, but she had hoped desperately that it wouldn't be true.
"Dimitri is dead," Claude says carefully. "The Kingdom fell with Fhirdiad and his death. There's been a bit of chaos in Gautier and Fraldarius territory, but they're leaderless. The Alliance is divided. House Ordelia and House Gloucester are supporting Edelgard while House Goneril, House Daphnel, and House Reigan oppose her."
Byleth looks around the Goddess Tower. The structure has decayed from the polished image of devotion it used to be. "Rhea is missing," Byleth surmises. "The Knights are looking for her, but they're not here at the moment."
Claude nods. "No one has seen her since the battle, just like you."
Byleth pulls away from Claude's touch and pushes herself up to her feet. "We should get down to the village."
Claude stands after her and frowns. "Teach, you've been asleep for five years. Going down there right now would definitely mean getting in a fight we can't win."
Byleth gives Claude a tiny smirk. "Five years, right? I promise I'm still sharp and I promise that we will win that fight."
He narrows his eyes, but Byleth knows he will never back down from a challenge.
- ~ -
Alive, alive, alive,
her mind sings as her Deer arrive. Marianne and Hilda and Raphael and Leonie and Ignatz and Lysithea and even Lorenz. They swing into battle seamlessly and they start to drive the thieves away.
A part of Byleth had known they would be here. Her Deer were loyal to a fault and, as Claude put it, a bunch of sentimental fools. Not one of them would have missed an opportunity to reunite as a class, even if there was no Millennium Festival.
Claude whoops when he sees them arrive. His wyvern–that's new, Byleth notes internally–and Hilda's swoop around each other. Leonie and Lorenz are mounted and maneuver quickly around the ruins. Lorenz even gives Marianne a lift, bringing the healer to Hilda's side when the now-flying noble needs assistance. Ignatz has a sword now, but he still favours his bow. His draw has changed too and his shots are more deadly and precise. Raphael bashes through everything without hardly shaking at the blows he receives. Lysithea calls dark magic and blasts down any armoured thieves.
Byleth wants to celebrate, but then she sees the assassin sneaking through the shadows towards Lysithea. Her voice catches in her throat and there's nothing she can do as the rogue slips forward, sword in hand, to attack. Suddenly, there's a crack and a loud gust of wind. The thief flies back and Lysithea turns in time to see him. Dark spikes spring up at a wave of her hand and then both she and Byleth are looking for her saviour.
Annette stands fifteen feet away, drawing up another wind rune, and she looks exactly like the war-hardened woman Byleth remembers. Byleth's breath catches in her chest. Across the battlefield, the Blue Lions emerge, each of them vicious and unrelenting. Mercedes joins with Marianne to unleash a blinding blast of white magic. Felix cuts down anyone who dares to get too close to Leonie. Ingrid covers Hilda's back in the sky. Sylvain spins his lance to use the extra range to take out a mage that gets too close to Raphael.
Byleth stands dumbly, rooted in place, as her students–current and former–unite to drive back the thieves with vicious efficiency. When it's done, they gather around her and Byleth doesn't know what to say.
Her Golden Deer are warm and there are hugs and squeezed hands and happy smiles. Her Blue Lions look more uncomfortable, but Byleth still can't believe that they are here and alive. She counts them–counts again–and the celebration in her mind ceases instantly.
"Ashe, Dedue, where are they?" she asks, turning to Ingrid.
Ingrid shakes her head. "No one has seen Dedue since Dimitri," she trails off, uncomfortable at the thought of the execution of her childhood friend.
"And Ashe was last seen with the Western Church," Annette answers. She looks tired and sad at the statement. "He went to try to get information on Lonato and none of us have heard from him since."
Byleth takes a deep breath. It makes sense. Last time, Dedue had been presumed dead while rescuing Dimitri so maybe he was just laying low in Duscur if the prince was really dead. To have lost Ashe stings, but she understands. She studies the rest of the Blue Lions.
"What are you all doing here?" she asks finally. The Deer shift behind her, appraising and wondering all the same.
Sylvain answers: "Well, Professor, you said you had hoped to see us all for the Millennium Festival, so I guess we all just took a chance." He gives Ingrid and Felix a meaningful look and Byleth recalls that the trio of them had previously reunited to search for Dimitri. She wonders if they have done the same this time.
"Right, well, we're all here now, so we might as well head back to the monastery," Claude interrupts.
Byleth nods slowly, shaking her head out of a fog of memories. "Yes. We have a lot to discuss."
- ~ -
/ guardian moon /
Three factions unite under a banner bearing the Crest of Flames to protect the monastery. The former Blue Lions fight for the Kingdom they have lost. The Knights of Seiros fight for the church itself and for the missing archbishop. The former Golden Deer fight for the Alliance that has barely not crumbled yet.
Byleth fights because it is what she knows. She cuts down Imperial soldiers until she feels numb. Her Nosferatu burns across Randolph as he falls to the ground, dead. Byleth stands above him, ears ringing and veins burning.
She faintly hears the flap of wings behind her. Hands grab her arms and forcibly turn her away from the dead enemy commander. Byleth finds herself staring into Claude's face. The Alliance leader looks concerned and Byleth's trance breaks. She shakes her head and the ringing in her ears vanishes.
"Teach?" Claude asks.
Byleth nods to him, forcing a smile. "I'm good. Let's get back to the monastery."
She walks away and her mind recalls something Sothis had said to her before she went to sleep:
"Why are you still lying to him?"
- ~ -
/ pegasus moon /
The moment she sees Ashe amongst the Kingdom forces opposing them, all strategy leaves her head immediately. Byleth sprints over fiery craters to get in range of him. She swings her Levin sword and cuts three of his arrows out of the air as she gets close to him.
Ashe fumbles to reload and Byleth closes the distance. "Ashe!" she yells to him.
His head snaps up and he recognizes her. "Professor?"
"Please, don't do this," she begs. "The other Blue Lions are here. Come with us," she pleads. She wants him to be Ashe, the loyal and chivalrous young man she remembers. The Ashe with a bright smile and winning touch in the kitchen that can always make anyone smile.
Ashe swallows hard and she sees the pain on his face. He knocks an arrow and Byleth grips her sword more tightly, shaking her head. He takes aim, raising his bow, and lets the arrow fly. It whistles past her ear as he misses her. There's a pained cry behind her and Byleth turns to see the shot embedded in the flank of an Imperial pegasus rider. She turns back to Ashe, hopeful, and he nods.
"I'm sorry I wasn't with you from the start," he yells to her over the roar of combat and the bubbling of lava around them.
Byleth lets out the breath she wasn't aware she was holding. "Shoot like that and I don't think you'll have many more apologies to be making."
- ~ -
Judith compliments the way the three different groups seem to work together as one. Claude transfers the praise to her, citing her leadership as the unifying trait. Then Judith tells them about Rhea.
Catherine and Seteth go tense immediately and Byleth feels cold all over despite the suffocating heat of Ailell. She had almost forgotten about the church's boundless devotion to Rhea. The idea of seeing the archbishop again makes Byleth feel sick and she's not sure why. She has so many unanswered questions about her parents and about Sothis. Reading Jeralt's diary for a second time has only made her more confused and she has no intention of letting Rhea get off without answering her questions this time.
Honestly, Byleth had completely forgotten about Rhea last time as well. The Knights had always been transparent in their goal, but the Kingdom was entirely devoted to destroying Edelgard and the Empire so it was easier to focus on that. It made her miss Sothis less after she had merged with the goddess. Now, thinking of the archbishop and the goddess makes her ache for the lilting, childlike voice that she had grown used to in her head.
Displeasure must show on her face because Claude steps forward and takes her by the elbow, turning her away from the conversation as the army makes preparations to return to the monastery.
"Are you alright, Teach? As soon as Judith mentioned Rhea you got this look like you'd just eaten something really sour."
Byleth gave a short laugh. "I didn't mean to, it just dawned on me that I'd almost forgotten about her. She was never high on my priority list last time and I never even found out if Edelgard had kept her alive after all these years. My father never trusted her after my mother's death as I'm sure you remember, so it makes me wonder if she's the reason I am like I am at all."
"Why you were connected with the goddess, you mean?"
Byleth nods. "Yes." She pauses, taking a moment to probe around in her head, searching for any of the warmth Sothis used to hold. There is nothing. "As weird as it is, I feel weird without her in my head."
Claude laughs lightly. "I mean, you shared that space for a significant amount of time. Maybe it just means you're getting more time to feel like yourself, finally."
Byleth considers his words. "Maybe," she consents. "Either way, I have a lot of questions for Rhea that I'm not letting her avoid."
"I'm with you on that one, Teach."
- ~ -
/ lone moon /
A week before they carry out their assault on the Great Bridge of Myrddin, Byleth checks in with her former students. The tension between the Kingdom natives and the Alliance natives seems to have faded almost entirely and more often than not Byleth finds her students in small groups that cross territory lines.
Annette and Lysithea put their heads together in the library and work through spell after spell with hardly a break. Mercedes keeps them company sometimes, but the older girl is often happier in the Cathedral keeping Ignatz company as he draws or paints.
Raphael, Leonie, and Felix train relentlessly. Their vastly varied styles from axe and brawling to bow and lance to sword and black magic creates some entertaining chaos, but it keeps them all well-balanced. Ashe trains with them sometimes, but he spends a lot more of his time in the Dining Hall preparing meals. Byleth asks him about it and he mentions that he still feels a bit bad that he started the fight on the wrong side at Ailell.
Hilda and Ingrid do aerial patrols together and Sylvain, Marianne, and Lorenz care for the horses and muck out the stables. Sometimes Hilda will bat her eyes at Lorenz or Sylvain and get them to do something particularly undesirable for her, but it makes Marianne hide a smile behind her hand and gives Ingrid something else to poke fun at Sylvain for so Byleth doesn't stop her.
Claude plots. He paces the Cardinals' Room and moves figures across battle maps. He studies schematics of the bridge and looks for every loophole he can find. He writes letters to his retainer and consults with Judith and Seteth and Lorenz and Byleth. He fills scroll after scroll with plans and tears them all apart. Byleth spends one afternoon sitting with him, but the chaos in which he works drives her up the wall until she has to excuse herself for some fresh air.
Claude enters the common room five minutes after her, sighing heavily. "I'm sorry. I'm stuck on this one choke point and it's been driving me crazy for several days."
Byleth waves a hand dismissively. "You'll get it. Take a break and breathe, Claude."
He flops entirely ungracefully onto one of the settees in the room and sighs again. "How did you take it last time?"
Byleth sits next to him and raises a hand to her mouth to hide her smile. "You finally figured out you could ask me, huh?"
He shrugs. "I want to do this my way. This is my insurance that my idea will work."
"With your help, actually. You distracted Count Gloucester in the north with Judith and we stormed the bridge while Alliance reinforcements were busy, taking on just the Empire. Of course, reinforcements arrived anyways because Lorenz was always too good at picking out when you were scheming."
Claude held up a hand, cutting her off. "Lorenz fought with the Empire?"
Byleth bites her lip. "Yes. Although I honestly think he only did it so that the Empire didn't just straight up invade Gloucester territory. When I faced him on the battlefield I managed to talk him down and he retreated." Images of Ferdinand flash in her mind suddenly and she frowns.
"Teach?" Claude questions.
"Dimitri killed Ferdinand. He'll be one of the generals stationed at the bridge. I wanted to try to get through to him, but Dimitri got to him first." She shakes her head and closes her eyes. "It wasn't pretty."
Claude is quiet for a moment and when her eyes open she sees that he looks like he's thinking hard and dismantling something in his head. "If I got you to him, could you talk him down?"
Byleth raises her eyebrows. "Claude, I just told you I didn't get through to him last time."
"I'm not talking about last time. I'm asking you if you think you can talk him down."
"Maybe," she consents. "If he's the same Ferdinand I faced last time, I'm not quite sure. But, I can try."
Claude stands up. There's a sharp clarity to his expression and his eyes twinkle. "I'll get you to him, I promise. Just be ready for me."
He starts out of the room and Byleth calls out to him.
"Claude!" He stops and looks back at her. Byleth frowns. "Don't base everything off of that."
He gives her a glimpse of his signature scheming smile. "Better practice your recruitment speech, Teach."
- ~ -
As the assault begins, Byleth isn't sure what to expect. She certainly isn't expecting Claude to basically drop out of the sky on his wyvern to flatten the two soldiers she had been facing off against. She spins the Sublime Creator Sword in her hand and stares him down. Claude holds out a hand to her, tucking his bow over his back.
His earlier words ring in her head and Byleth grabs his hand and lets him pull her up onto the wyvern. He takes off quickly, navigating through the chaotic skies past Hilda and Ingrid and Cyril to get to the corner of the fortress where Ferdinand is fighting. He swoops down close to the ground and Byleth takes the opportunity she is given.
She leaps from the wyvern and tucks and rolls as she hits the ground hard. Her shoulders ache from the impact, but she comes up slashing and takes out the rear legs of Ferdinand's mount. The horse screams in pain and throws the noble.
Ferdinand didn't see her coming and isn't expecting to be thrown so he hits the ground hard. Byleth sprints to him and lowers her blade against his throat. Ferdinand's eyes lock on hers and widen in surprise.
"Professor?"
"Ferdinand, I don't have to do this," she tells him. "Edelgard ruined your father and your family and she's poisoning the Empire."
Ferdinand's eyes flash defiantly and for a moment she is afraid of what he may make her do. "I am Ferdinand von Aegir. I fight for the Empire."
Byleth withdraws her sword and looks at him pityingly. "Even if Edelgard has set you up to die without a shred of remorse? Even if Edelgard has so systematically dismantled the Aegir name there is nothing left?" His resolve wavers and she presses forward. "Stand with me, Ferdinand and we will fight for the real Empire and we will save it."
She extends a hand to him. Ferdinand hesitates, but after a moment he reaches up to grab it. She pulls him to his feet and he nods to her. From there, Byleth almost misses what happens. One moment Ferdinand is standing at her side and the next moment he is shoving her to the side and there's a terrible crash of lightning and she smells burning flesh.
Byleth turns and throws her hand out, sending a wave of fire behind her. Acheron calls an arcane shield to block it, but he's smirking. Ferdinand lies crumpled on the ground, his armour smoking from the shock of the lightning that had struck him.
"Stand a traitor, die a traitor!" Acheron sneers.
Byleth's vision goes white and tugs on the cord in her stomach. Time winds back and she's staring down at Ferdinand with her hand extended. He's reaching for it when she pulls back and turns to see Acheron approaching. She sends white magic after him and Acheron deflects it away. She snaps the Sublime Creator Sword and lashes it out.
Acheron calls lightning and Byleth rolls, avoiding it. She strikes with her sword and Acheron falls. She turns back to Ferdinand to see him crumpled on the ground again. Pain sears in her chest.
"No, no, no, no!" she cries out, rushing forward.
Ferdinand's armour is smoking again. His eyes are blank, staring up at the clear blue sky. His hair is burnt and mussed and his chest is still. Byleth curls her hands until her fingernails cut into her palms. It should have saved him.
She tries to call on the Divine Pulse again, but her stomach turns and she's nearly sick. She rocks back from Ferdinand's body and stares at it blankly. The sound of the fighting around her fades and the battle starts to wind down with two of the commanders slain. Sylvain takes out Ladislava soon after.
Byleth stays kneeling on the stone staring at her slain student. Her student that she had gotten through to. Her student that was ready to join her. Her student who died a brutal death in every life she had seen him in.
Claude lands next to her, but Byleth is still numb.
- ~ -
/ great tree moon /
Byleth likes Derdriu. What she doesn't enjoy as much is the stubborn quarrelling of the Alliance Lords. When Claude had originally asked her to attend the Roundtable Conference with him, Byleth had been glad to leave the monastery for a few days.
The Roundtable is exhausting. The lords are frustratingly stubborn and selfish and none of them are too willing to give up troops to Claude's main forces when they claim they should be protecting their borders. Byleth herself isn't half the charming orator that Claude is, but she can see that even his patience is wearing thin.
By the second day, they have managed to convince most of the Lords to side with them. House Ordelia tries to hold out against them, but with Daphnel, Goneril, and even Gloucester voting in favour of House Reigan, their power is slipping. House Edmund tries to lessen their own commitment and then all of the lords suddenly want to be sending fewer troops.
It's exhausting.
Currently, Byleth is alone in the war room organizing maps of Empire territory and of Fort Merceus where the Empire is said to be stockpiling troops. Claude had disappeared several hours earlier with the rest of the nobles for dinner. Byleth had been invited, but she had wanted a break from the chaos. Citing the need for privacy to pray, she requested a meal be brought to her instead.
As the current, though unwilling, face of the Church of Seiros, none of the lords dared to argue with her request. Her meal had been sent up and she had been left alone. Still, the isolation felt unnerving and she was starting to tire of staring at maps and army figures and the mixture of hers and Claude's handwriting.
Just as she's folding up the last few maps, the door to the room cracks open. Byleth looks over her shoulder and sees Claude reenter. He has shed much of the regalia he has been parading around over the last two days and has exchanged it for a loose cream-coloured linen shirt and brown pants.
Byleth relaxes when she sees him. "Hi," she greets.
Claude smiles briefly. "Hi," he replies. "What are you still doing here? It's late."
Byleth waves him off. "I'm finished now. I was just about to head back to my room. How was dinner?"
Claude sighs and rubs his temples. "Exhausting. Every second I spend with these nobles is exhausting. Nothing here is simple as it is at home. There at least if someone disagrees with you they tell it straight to your face, often accompanied by a poisoned blade or two."
Byleth studies him for a moment. Maybe he's tired or distracted, but it is unlike him to let something so telling slip about his previous life before he was announced as Reigan heir. In telling him about Sothis and Dimitri and her first attempt, Byleth knows she has created a line of trust between them that he does not have with anyone else. As a result, she knows more about him than most people do. In all the time they've spent together, Byleth has pieced together that he's definitely not from Fódlan.
After she doesn't say anything else, Claude continues, "May I escort you back to your room, Teach?"
The nickname feels strange in this place. Between two adults, one of whom is heir to an entire region (Claude) and the other who has not aged in five years (Byleth). Still, the familiarity and the intent behind it makes her feel warm inside, so she nods.
They walk in relative silence back to Byleth's quarters. She's staying near enough to Claude that he's not seriously inconveniencing himself by walking her back, but the escort feels unnecessary to her. He waves her off.
"We've barely had a moment alone since coming here," he points out.
Byleth nods. "I hadn't even realized. I didn't know what to expect from this trip, but this certainly isn't what I was thinking."
Claude chuckles. "You could have saved me from a few particularly weak and embarrassing arguments in front of Holst and Judith today, you know. With your whole time-changing thing and everything."
Byleth rolls her eyes and shoves him. Claude rocks onto his heels and tips back towards her in response, laughing. He slings an arm over her shoulders and she feels the warmth that radiates from his body in waves.
Her stomach twists as she smiles at Claude's antics. Here in Derdriu with him, she feels safer and calmer than she has felt in a long, long time. Their every interaction feels genuine and real and since he knows the truth, she's not afraid of being in the moment with him.
Her moment of distraction causes her foot to catch on one of the expensive carpets and she trips, nearly dragging Claude down with her. Instead, they stumble into the wall together and Claude's full body collides with hers. He catches himself a little, but still ends up landing one hand on her waist and the other on her shoulder.
He's closer now–much closer–and Byleth can smell the wine he must have consumed with dinner and the stronger, familiar scent of pine that clings to him. She can see the darker green rings in his eyes and the tension in his neck as he swallows slowly. The playful smile has vanished and he looks a little nervous. His pulse hums in his neck and Byleth stops thinking.
She slides a hand up, across his shoulder and up over his jaw so it rests along the side of his face. Claude leans down with no resistance and lets his own hand glide from her shoulder to cradle the back of her head, fingers winding through her hair. There's a moment where it looks like he has given in to her, but then something clicks and he huffs out a heavy breath.
He presses their foreheads together and exhales. "Byleth," his voice is low and cautionary.
Byleth leans back a little, hurt prickling across her skin. "Claude," she replies, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
"I think you're getting the wrong idea here, my friend," Claude says gently. Byleth tenses and prepares to throw all of her defences up. "I have no intention of playing second fiddle to His Royal Highness in anything, but this especially."
Claude's eyes are burning green. The hand at the back of her head plays lightly with her hair and the touch feels gentle. Byleth feels warm all over, but there's a chill in her chest at his words.
"Second fiddle?" she questions.
A sadder smirk turns up the corners of Claude's lips. "Teach, I had an inkling back at the academy, but when you told me everything, it clicked. You're in love with Dimitri."
He isn't wrong. Byleth knows that even though she didn't lead Dimitri's house this time, a part of her soul aches for him. She misses the young, idealistic prince and the cracked, determined young man he became.
Byleth closes her eyes. "Dimitri is dead, Claude. You're the one who told me that."
"He lived last time, didn't he? Same scenario."
"Last time was different," she argues.
"I disagree. Maybe you led his house, but you were still his favourite professor this time. You were one of the only people who he trusted completely and I don't think that changed," Claude says.
Despite the words coming out of his mouth, he hasn't moved away from her and he hasn't moved his hands back to safer, more platonic territory.
"Maybe I'm different," Byleth says before she realizes what the words truly mean.
Claude pauses. Byleth opens her eyes and sees Claude's face. He looks doubtful, but he can't hide the spark of hope in his eyes. Byleth twists her hand along his jaw, feeling the scratch of his half-beard along her palm.
"Byleth," he murmurs. "You still love him."
She takes the plunge. "And if I love you too?" The admission comes as a surprise to herself, but the warmth seeping through all of her bones due to Claude's close proximity assures her that it is the truth.
He laughs breathily. "Then I suppose I have an uphill battle ahead of me."
Byleth is done talking. Her other hand lands on Claude's shoulder. She pulls him down and kisses him firmly. Claude's hand tightens in her hair and the hand on her waist pulls her tighter against himself as he kisses her harder.
The kiss is like a fire. Claude is warm and his lips taste like wine and the lingering spices from whatever he had eaten for dinner. Byleth presses against him and slides her hands into his hair, wrapping her fingers around dark curls.
Claude breaks the kiss to groan softly. He tilts his head and presses a kiss to Byleth's cheekbone and then another at the top of her jaw. He pauses for a moment, resting the side of his head against hers. His breath is warm and makes her feel dizzy.
"If I don't let you go now, I won't be able to," he breathes.
"If I asked you not to let go?" Byleth replies. Her voice is breathy and her chest swells against him as she takes deep breaths.
Claude slides his head back so they're making eye contact. Byleth drops her hands to the centre of his chest where her fingers fiddle with the laces holding his shirt together—not undoing them yet, just making it clear she could.
"Byleth," he says.
She's pretty sure that her name on his lips is the sweetest sound she's ever heard. She leans forward to kiss him again. She pulls back so there is a hair's width between their lips.
"Don't let go," she whispers.
Claude doesn't hesitate. He crushes their lips together again and it's hot and hungry. He backs Byleth into the wall and cups her face with both hands. The kiss is intense and dizzying and entirely inappropriate for a hallway in his estate where anyone could happen upon them.
Claude's face dips into the crook of her neck as his lips and teeth scrape across her skin. Byleth wishes that her pulse would change so that he knew what he was doing to her. Her fingers fumble with his shirt until she has it mostly undone and her palms find warm, scarred skin.
"Claude," she gasps. "Room."
He laughs against her skin and presses a soft kiss to her collarbone. He pulls back to look at her, green eyes twinkling.
"Should I stay?" he asks.
It's the last hurdle he gives her. It's one last attempt for her body to revolt and call for Dimitri. But, just as one part of her mind aches for and misses the Kingdom's prince, the other half is drunk on Claude's warmth and adoration.
"Stay," she says.
He does.
- ~ -
Byleth makes it outside before she panics. As soon as she had finished speaking with Claude, Judith, and the others in the cathedral, she had headed straight for the 3rd floor of the monastery. She had ensured she was out of sight of everyone when she had started running, but she had sprinted the whole way up to the top floor of the monastery. She had stumbled into the star garden with her chest heaving. She strides to the edge of the garden and plants her arms against the railing.
There is an army marching towards Gronder Field under the banner of House Blaiddyd. Dimitri is ALIVE. There isn't a doubt in her mind that Dimitri is the one leading the charge down through Alliance territory towards the Empire. If he has gotten word that Edelgard could be at the Battle of Gronder Field, he will be there.
The thought of seeing him again makes her head spin. She knows what kind of man she'll come face to face with. She is afraid that this time there will be no turning him back to the light. She hadn't been there to guide him this time so she is afraid she will not be enough to guide him back to the light. Additionally, she now has to juggle the fact that all of the former Kingdom students (Dedue as the exception) were now fighting at her side under the Crest of Flames.
Byleth breathes deeply to try to calm her racing mind, but the fear is deep-rooted and cold. It doesn't help that half of her is still undeniably in love with Dimitri, but the other half is frozen in the stolen moment in Derdriu with Claude. She closes her eyes and tries to conjure an empty image in her mind.
People would be expecting her in the Cardinals' Room soon to discuss strategy and she needs to be calm. She breathes in, centring herself.
If Dimitri is marching on Enbarr, he has to have support. He likely has Gilbert and any remaining Kingdom knights. If he has come down through the north part of the Kingdom, he likely has the permission of House Galatea and probably military support from House Fraldarius and House Gautier.
She needs to speak to the Blue Lions.
Byleth spins from her position and sees Cyril standing in the doorway from the third floor, watching her awkwardly.
"Cyril," she starts.
He shakes his head. "It's okay, Professor, I won't say anything. Do you want me to get anyone?"
Byleth exhales slowly. "No, I'm alright. I just need to speak to Felix and Sylvain. Do you know where they are?"
Cyril ponders the question for a moment. "I would guess either the Blue Lion classroom or the Training Hall."
- ~ -
She finds them in the Blue Lion classroom. Mercedes is standing at the front of the room, staring out the window into the grassy courtyard with an uncharacteristic frown across her face. Ashe is restringing his bow at the table closest to her. He looks detached and almost a little scared.
Annette is holding Felix's hands in her lap. She looks nervous and the swordsman next to her has a blank, eerily neutral expression. Annette's hands rub over Felix's like she's trying to keep him grounded, but Byleth easily picks up that much of her tension is her own.
Ingrid is standing at the rear of the classroom, arms crossed, while Sylvain paces the length of the room. His armour clicks and clanks as he walks and he runs a hand through his hair looking irritated. Ingrid looks more pensive and she keeps glancing at Sylvain like she wants to anchor him to the spot to stop his pacing.
Ashe looks up as she enters and stands in a hurry, bumping the table loudly with his knees. "Professor!"
Byleth feels a lump in her throat. "Someone told you all," she murmurs.
Sylvain stops pacing to look at her. "House Blaiddyd. Professor, what is happening? Is the ghost of Dimitri leading an assault against us?"
Felix laughs coldly. "You haven't figured it out?"
"Felix," Annette pleads softly.
He shakes his head. "The Boar Prince himself will be leading that charge, I guarantee it." He pulls his hands away from Annette and stands up. He gives Byleth a challenging look. "My father will be there too and if Annette's father isn't I will be surprised. Do you expect us to raise arms against our own people?"
Byleth shakes her head emphatically. "I expect you all to deploy on the Empire side and to retreat any moment you feel uncomfortable or out of your depth."
"So you intend to kill the Boar then?" Felix asks.
"No," Byleth says before she can stop herself. She drops her gaze to the floor. "I could never."
"Claude would," a new voice says.
Byleth and the Lions turn to see Hilda in the doorway. She looks troubled but steps forward into the classroom.
"The moment the Kingdom army turns its attacks our direction, Claude won't hesitate. You know that, don't you, Professor?"
Byleth sighs. "That is exactly what I am afraid of."
"If Dimitri is there, let us get to him," Sylvain says firmly. "We will get him to back down."
"No," Felix says. "Sylvain, you weren't there so you haven't seen him like this." Felix looks disturbed, but he hides his discomfort behind a sneer easily enough. "There's not enough of him left to save."
With that, he hurries from the room. Ingrid lays a hand on Sylvain's arm and the pair makes eye contact before Ingrid continues on, following Felix. Sylvain huffs out a sigh and sits on a bench at a table.
"Not to be a downer, but how are you so sure that Dimitri is still alive?" Hilda asks.
Annette shifts uncomfortably. She reaches into the bag at her feet and pulls out two scrolls of parchment. "Felix's father wrote to him, requesting that he return to Fraldarius territory so that he could join in the Kingdom's revival. My father wrote to me as well, asking for me to stay far away from Empire territory in the coming months."
"There were whispers amongst the Western Church that someone interfered in Dimitri's execution and that was why everything was carried out in such a hush-hush manner," Ashe adds. "People were saying it was warriors from Duscur that stormed the capital on the day it was set for. And, well, we all know someone from Duscur who would have done anything for His Highness."
Hilda takes a deep breath. "Well, that's plenty convincing for me." She turns to Byleth. "Professor, if there is even a chance that you can get through to him, you have to try. The Kingdom could unite behind him and with the Alliance united behind Claude and the Church behind you, the war would be as good as over."
With that, Hilda spins and leaves the classroom. Byleth bites her lip and turns back to face the remaining Blue Lions.
"You knew him as well as I did," she says. "Do we have a shot?"
"I don't know, Professor," Annette admits. "He changed after he found out about Edelgard being the Flame Emperor."
Byleth nods. "I know. She knows who was responsible for Duscur," Byleth admits.
Sylvain stiffens. "What?"
"Patricia was a part of the plot herself because she wished to see Edelgard again. That betrayal cut him deeper than anything else ever could." Technically Byleth isn't sure if Dimitri knows that Patricia had been a part of the plot in this timeline, but it's close enough to the reason that he felt so betrayed by her and Byleth thinks that her Lions deserve to know this at least.
"I want you to know that whatever happens," she pauses to look each of them in the eye. "I will do everything I can to keep him alive."
The promise is the best she can do right now.
- ~ -
The fog that dances along the earth makes her nervous. Her hand is curled around her sword and she stands with her back straight and every sense on high alert as they approach Gronder. She has made this march before and she knows how it will end if she isn't perfect in every choice she makes.
"Byleth."
She turns. Claude is standing a few feet away from her. He's dressed for battle and his wyvern is waiting anxiously behind him. Byleth steps toward him and raises her chin.
"Claude."
They haven't had a moment alone since Derdriu and since finding out about the Kingdom's approach, Byleth hasn't wanted to try to process all of the emotions whipping through her head. Even so, there is hardly another person she would trust to have her back in a fight like the one they are about to head into.
"I will need you today, my friend," he says. "Your command will win us the day, I know it will. Don't lose sight of what's important."
The last comment makes her angry. She exhales sharply. "I know what is important. Don't forget what I told you."
She has made sure that Claude knows to avoid the hill in the centre of the field because she has no doubt that Edelgard has rigged it with explosives again. Despite his insistence on it as a strategic point, Byleth had forcefully pointed out that it isn't worth the lives that will be lost in taking it. Instead, she has directed him to head up the right side of the battle to go after where she assumes Edelgard's magic corps will be.
There's a horn that sounds, lower and brassier than anything from the Alliance. Byleth and Claude both tense.
"That's an Empire war horn," Claude murmurs. He immediately takes off for the front lines, pressing through their own soldiers.
Byleth doesn't hesitate before following him. She has almost reached him when she spots the volley of fire heading their direction. "Scatter!" she screams to the troops.
Magic rains down around them and Alliance soldiers and commanders scream and drop formation. Byleth pushes forward until she stands next to Claude. Here, at the front of the army, she can see out onto Gronder Field. Edelgard's army is in the south in perfect formation and her mages still have their hands outstretched from the initial blast.
Claude's jaw sets. His hands tighten on Failnaught and he very nearly gives the order at that moment, but he hesitates.
Byleth looks to the eastern side and she sees him.
Dimitri is alive, her mind whispers.
Dimitri stands at the head of his army. His expression is dead neutral. His right eye is gone. His hair is longer. Areadbhar is resting on his shoulder. He looks like the shadow of the prince that Byleth found in the goddess tower five years ago and her chest aches.
Claude lifts a hand and the Alliance archers lift their weapons into position, waiting for the command. Edelgard's forces do the same, but it is Dimitri who breaks first. The disillusioned man points his relic forth and Byleth sees the darkness consuming him emerge in full force.
The Kingdom troops charge and all hell breaks loose.
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ayma-nidiot · 4 years
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The Ride - Sylvix fic Chapter 19
Also on AO3 -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/21973405/chapters/57522871
Chapter 19 – The Light in Conand Tower
“It’s pretty boring in there…” Annette came out after surveying the first room of Conand Tower. “Are you sure we can’t take in the wagon?”
“Just to be safe, I want to leave it out here,” replied Sylvain. “If anything were to happen to our horses…”
“In that case, I volunteer to stay watch.”
“What’s wrong? Ignatz, you sound awful.”
“I… uh… made the mistake of eating fish that we carried all the way from the monastery. I’ve been having the runs ever since we left that Galatea village.”
Sylvain sighed. “Then you should have eaten fresh steak from the market like the rest of us. That fish was a week and a half old. Raphael and Lorenz, look after him, please.”
“Aye aye, captain!” Raphael happily agreed.
“I brought some medicinal tea from Gloucester,” Lorenz added. “It’s a peppermint tea that my family has used for-”
Ignatz suddenly cowered, running behind a nearby bush.
“I… uh… guess I’ll get started on that tea, then.” Lorenz then turned to Sylvain. “Good luck, Sylvain. Take this.”
“You’re giving me Thyrsus, your house’s Hero’s Relic?”
“If your friend is indeed in there, then you’ll need all the help you can get, right? We and our battalions will be fine out here. Now, get going!”
“Thank you.” Sylvain attached the staff to a pocket in his back before entering the tower with the rest of the company.
“It’s quiet… Too quiet.”
“Annette, this isn’t the time for clichéd novel phrases,” spoke Sylvain.
“Well, I remember it from Loog and the Maiden of Wind-” Ashe started.
“For the love of the goddess, guys, can’t you act a bit more seriously?” Sylvain loudly whispered as he entered another room, and sound slowly started to fill his ears.
“Come on, we’re just a little bit… uh… nervous,” Caspar tried – and failed – to sound confident.
“You’re right… I’m sorry, guys.” Just then, the sounds Sylvain heard earlier became louder, but he still couldn’t determine where they were coming from – so they discovered him first. As he blocked the hoard of enemies’ attack on him without even looking at them, he spoke, “Nice try, you goons.”
“Wh-Who are these guys?” Ashe wondered out loud, stabbing a nearby enemy with an arrow from Yewfelle. “Are they… Miklan’s thieves?”
“No, look harder…” Lysithea pointed at the shadows of an enemy she had just defeated. “I don’t think they’re agents of the Empire, either. There’s another power at work here, I know it!”
The leader apparent responded to this correct guess with, “Indeed, smart child. We would never associate ourselves with that useless Miklan. You want to learn who we really are? Then follow us, if you can!”
Without thinking, Sylvain charged after this enemy through the next few rooms, prompting Mercedes to yell, “Sylvain, wait! It’s a trap!”
“Hahaha…” The leader apparent cackled when he stopped in a dungeon full of chains. “So it seems you’re the only stupid one in this entire motley band, Sylvain Jose Gautier!”
“How… do you know my name?” Sylvain tried to look for this enemy, who lurked in the shadows. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Tell us who you are and why you’ve brought us here!”
The shadows began to clear to show chained-up prisoners, whom Sylvain recognized as Miklan’s thieves; he reckoned there were about one hundred of them, if not more.
“You see, we have this wonderful ability to take control of the ambitious and weak of heart, including these two dolts over here.”
The last of the shadows dissipated, revealing two especially large chains, with two men chained to them – and Sylvain recognized the raven-haired one instantly.
“Felix…” Sylvain hardly believed it at first, but after his joy at finally seeing his beloved again overtook him, he ran recklessly to where Felix had been chained. “Oh, goddess, Felix, I never thought I’d- Huh?”
He didn’t recognize him from afar, but Sylvain took a good look at the man chained to the right of Felix, and his face fell at the sight of him. “It can’t be… Miklan? But… But I thought you were-”
While Felix remained completely unconscious, Miklan heard his brother easily enough, awakening with a cackle. “Hehehe… How are you, little brother?” He looked up.
Before Sylvain could ask any questions, he heard Ashe yell, “Sylvain! Look out behind you!”
“Aaaargh!” The fallen enemy screamed as arrows from Parthia hit it, and as it perished, so too did the shadows of which it was made.
“Thank you, Ashe.” Sylvain took a deep breath before brandishing the Lance of Ruin, cutting down an adjacent enemy with the lance. As he did, he noticed a few of his comrades were missing – namely Lysithea and Mercedes. But he knew he had no time to look for them – he believed in their abilities, after all. His belief in his own abilities dwindled, however, as with each slain enemy, the Lance of Ruin grew duller and so soaked in blood and guts that he could hardly see the blade.
“Hah!” Miklan scoffed. “Some good the Lance of Ruin is serving you! You should have left it with me!”
“Shut up!” Sylvain continued to fight despite how his brother irritated him. “It won’t do you any good, either! I’m trying to save your ass here.”
Sylvain took another short respite before thinking, He does have a point, though. I suppose I could use magic, but…
Annette noticed Sylvain trembling in fear. “Sylvain? What’s wrong?”
What if I… What if I fail again?
“Try using light magic!” Annette cast Nosferatu at five enemies at once, and sure enough, they seemed to fade with less effort than Sylvain thought. “If you can at least try to use Seraphim, it would help us a ton!”
“But… I can’t. You saw what happened at Fhirdiad. My incompetence could have-”
“Dammit, Sylvain, if you have the time to mope around, then fight!” Caspar killed more enemies around Sylvain – with the Axe of Ukonvasara, no less.
Lorenz… Everyone… Sylvain felt his hope restored and began to draw the sigil in the air. If my friends are willing to fight for what’s right, then I owe it to them to do the same.
Despite his resolve – and despite that he could properly form the magic circle this time – Sylvain couldn’t yet unleash a proper Seraphim spell.
“Eeeeek!” Annette had been swarmed by two enemies, and her hands had been bound.
“They’re… They’re coming in droves…” Lysithea, along with Mercedes, had beeen cornered in this “main” dungeon by even more enemies, now including a Titanus and demonic beasts.
We’re in trouble… Sylvain retrieved the Thyrsus from his back, and taking one passing glance at Felix, he noticed something in the other man’s pockets. Could it be…?
Sylvain took out the broken item – to his joy, it was the toy lance. Giving his beloved a smile, he turned around again, saying, “You beasts. You will leave my friends the fuck alone – now! Haaaaaah!”
Sylvain’s desire to fight for his loved ones fueled the Seraphim spell that rained down on the Titanus – and the several more spells that followed.
“Amazing!” Lysithea smirked as she readied a Seraphim spell of her own. “I hope you know I won’t be outdone, Mr. Gautier.”
“Hmph.” Annette, who felt more relieved that the enemy numbers dwindled exponentially, still frowned. “I wish I could learn such an amazing demon-slaying spell.”
“Dude, you know Abraxas, the highest level of white attack magic.” Caspar rolled his eyes.
“Try telling that to Triumphant Boy over there,” Lysithea pointed at Sylvain, who, now that the enemies had been defeated, grinned in victory. She walked up to him in congratulations, saying, “Amazing. I had never seen a man successfully wield Seraphim. In fact, you’re only the third man in the history of Fódlan who has been able to successfully wield it.”
“Really? Haha.” Sylvain sounded rather proud of himself.
“Yeah. Most practitioners are holy women. Any man who is able to learn this spell has an especially high prowess for white magic.”
“Which is why he could cast it better than you,” Caspar teased.
“Oh, shush. M-My specialty is dark magic, after all.”
It was at this point that Miklan got tired of all this talk about magic, and decided to remind everyone else of his presence. “So… I’m here, too. Do you think you can get me and my men out of these chains?”
“Oh.” Sylvain’s good mood had dropped instantly as he gave the order to do as Miklan requested. “So, spill it.”
“‘Spill it?’ What’s there to spill?” Miklan asked as he and Felix had been freed; Felix remained unconscious. “Oh, and there are other dungeons with more of my men. Don’t forget about them.”
“Okay, where to begin? How did you survive being consumed by the Lance of Ruin? Why are you here in your old hideout? How did you end up captured in your own hideout?”
“Why did you save us?”
“Listen, you douchecanoe, I’m the one asking questions – unless you’d rather I shoot first and ask questions later.” Sylvain threatened another Seraphim spell.
“Okay, okay, calm your tits…” Miklan paused before beginning his story. “So after you killed me that fateful day – and after you had left – some weird lady with a long pink pony tail showed up out of nowhere. She tried to peddle some mystical item to me – me, a dying man! She called it the Fissure Dragon Sign. Next thing I knew, the shadows stopped consuming my body, and… Well, here, I am. As for who locked us up… I don’t know. But our captors didn’t seem human.”
“So it’s true,” Annette spoke up.
“Annette? Don’t tell me you believe what this shitgibbon is saying.”
“I do. I’ve read about special signs that allow Crestless people to acquire Crests. There’s only one of each kind in the world.”
“Now that you mention it, I remember Professor Byleth carrying some… strange objects in her quarters,” Mercedes cut in.
“I… I’m not sure I like it,” Lysithea commented. “It reminds me of… experiments I would rather forget about.”
“So, let me get this straight, Miklan. You’re telling me that this ‘Fissure Dragon Sign’ gave you the Crest of Gautier so that the Lance of Ruin wouldn’t fully consume you. Do I have that right?”
“You’re not as dumb as you look, little brother! Since you freed me, I think I ought to return the favour, yeah?”
“Over my dead body.”
“Please…” One of Miklan’s thieves – a thief who was part of the group who attacked the Kingdom army at Derdriu – begged. “We’re outcasts from all corners of Fódlan. We’ve got nowhere else to go.”
Another thief added, “We’ve got no food or supplies, either.”
“Sylvain, you know full well you’re going to need all the strength you can get if you want to defeat the Emperor. Many of my men are highly skilled spies – comes with the job.”
“Hmph.” Sylvian finally gave in. “Fine. But understand that I still don’t fully trust you. If I get even the slightest hint that you are going to betray us, I will without hesitation make sure the Lance of Ruin kills you this time.”
“Y-You got it…” Intimidated by his little brother, Miklan tried to take the heat off himself. “Say, I think your buddy here is finally coming to.”
“Ugh…” Felix slowly sat up, clutching his head. “What in the fuck just… Where am I?”
“Felix!” Sylvain didn’t hesitate to hug his boyfriend. He felt no shame in his tears of joy, either. “Oh, goddess, Felix, I… I’m so glad…”
“You dumbass, everyone is watching!” Felix weakly tried to push Sylvain away.
“Oh, don’t worry, we already know,” Annete spoke with a smile.
“And how, pray tell?”
Ingrid simply whistled in response.
“Ingrid…” Felix sounded mildly annoyed.
“What? Did you really think that you, one of Faerghus’ highest-ranking nobles, could hide your relationship forever?”
“Plus…” Caspar started. “A few of us heard you when-”
Sylvain didn’t like where this conversation was headed, and so interrupted it with, “Sooooo… Anybody know why we’re still in this smelly dungeon? Let’s head out to the wagon.”
“Yeah, I agree…” Mercedes liked the sound of this “plan” as everyone made way for said wagon. “I hope Ignatz is okay.”
“Felix, you should have seen it!” Annette sounded excited. “There was this amazing village with some of the friendliest people you will ever meet.”
“Yeah, and probably the best steak you will ever eat.” Ignatz came out of the wagon. “Not that I would know, since I made the stupid mistake of eating fortnight-old fish instead.”
“Ignatz, are you sure you should be up right now? How are you feeling?” Sylvain asked as he returned Thyrsus back to Lorenz, and Caspar did the same with the Axe of Ukonvasara.
“Good, thanks. Lorenz’s tea really did the trick.”
“Speaking of the village, we should probably go back there and buy more wagons for our new comrades,” Ingrid suggested.
Sylvain didn’t let this friendly talk make him forget about the bounty he bought from the Galatea village. “Oh, that reminds me. Felix, I have something for you.”
“Hm?” Felix didn’t expect that much – so the sudden barrage of spicy foods and dried meats raining upon him certainly gave him a surprise. “Whoa there, easy, man. What’s all of this for?”
“Well, I thought that you would want something tasty for once, instead of… moldy bread or whatever you’ve been eating these past few weeks.”
“…”
“Don’t tell me… That’s all you’ve had since you’ve been kidnapped?!” Sylvain started shaking Felix by the shoulders. “My boyfriend deserves to eat all of his favourite foods when he wants!”
“Is that all?” Felix sounded annoyed, but Sylvain could notice a slight smile.
“Nope, I have one more thing. It’s a little old-fashioned, but I hope it’s to your liking.”
Felix scoffed, “What, some more food? Sylvain, I think I already- Oh…”
To Felix’s surprise, the item of which Sylvain spoke was not another bag of beef jerky, but a ring of rose gold and diamonds.
“Felix Hugo Fraldarius…” Sylvain knelt on one knee. “Will you marry me?”
Felix remained speechless for about thirty seconds before saying, “…Idiot, how can we do that, given our noble positions?”
“Screw the noble positions! We can do it anyway. If someone doesn’t like it – hell, even if I have to renounce my nobility – then let them not like it!”
“You really are… a reckless buffoon, aren’t you?” Felix smiled as he held out his left hand. “Yes, Sylvain Jose Gautier. I am yours.”
“Whooo!” Caspar started cheering as Sylvain put the ring on Felix’s finger.
“I better start thinking of a good recipe for that wedding cake…” Mercedes thought out loud.
“Just don’t let Flayn take part in that!” Raphael groaned.
“Oh, and here’s a wedding gift.” Sylvain reached in the wagon again to give Felix the Failnaught. “A little something to put your new certification to use.”
“Claude…” Felix smiled. “It is a shame that he couldn’t join forces with us.”
The comrades didn’t laugh for long before an irritated Miklan said, “What the hell?”
“Eh?” Sylvain turned around.
“Why… Why would you just throw away your noble title like that, when you didn’t have to even work to earn it?!”
“Abandoning one’s noble title isn’t unheard of,” spoke Hanneman, who had since abandoned the Empire. “I have a Crest and was born to the Empire nobility, but I abandoned my house to pursue my passion for Crest research. And if I can do it, so can these gentlemen.”
“Plus, we’re not going to just leave the house completely vacant for ruthless Kingdom citizens to fight to become margrave.” Sylvain’s tone was calm, but serious. “Brother, I want you to inherit House Gautier in my place.”
“Wh-What? But… Father would never allow it. And His Highness-”
“His Highness wants a world in which the Crestless do not get treated as less than just for not having a Crests. I myself believe that anyone, Crest or no Crest, should be able to help lead our country, if they’ve won the respect of the people.” Sylvain held out a hand for Miklan to shake. “So what do you say?”
A familiar – but unexpected – voice came out from behind the wagon just then. “I say that we capture these traitors! Dedue!”
“Your Highness.” Dedue – and other loyal Faerghus soldiers - came onto the scene and immediately started placing all of Miklan’s thieves in cuffs.
“Dimitri!” Sylvain began to panic. “What are you doing here?”
“A little bird told me that certain disobedient soldiers of mine snuck out of Garreg Mach Monastery to go on a covert mission.” Dimitri retrieved a broken wine bottle and scrap of toilet paper out of his pockets.
Dammit… He found out! Sylvain glared at Dedue.
“Oh, and another thing… When I said ‘capture the traitors,’ that includes you and everyone who left with you.”
“Aiee! Let go!” Annette struggled from the soldier trying to bind her.
“No! Dimitri, I beg of you, leave them out of this. You see, I coerced them into doing it. They had no choice!”
“Hmph.” Dimitri gestured for his soldiers to let everyone – except for Sylvain, Miklan, and Miklan’s thieves – go. “But you’re still under arrest for openly defying my orders and abandoning the battlefield. As for your punishment, I will decide that during our march to Fort Merceus.”
“You mean you haven’t even gone there yet?”
“How could I not? Anyway, a prisoner shouldn’t be asking needless questions like that. Soldiers, forward march to Fort Merceus, and to victory against the Empire!”
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