Linhardt was bitter. It wasn't an emotion he allowed to consume him, due to its overwhelming and vicious instincts it caused within one's self. But that slight and barely-there quip to Byleth's lips as he spoke to Claude had Linhardt succumbing to the thorny bloom of bitterness. The weight that had piled upon Byleth's shoulders since he returned from his meeting with Rhea, seemed to lighten as Claude placed his hand on the professor's arm. Linhardt narrowed his eyes and glared intently at the contact.
Linhardt had spent that entire morning trying to get even an ounce of acknowledgement from Byleth. From coaxing the dejected professor from his bed without a word being uttered from the professor's lips; to trying to converse with him at breakfast. The man stirred his slop of wheat absentmindedly causing the warlock to become concerned with how Byleth would handle the rest of his duties that day. So, as Linhardt mentally prepared a moving speech to snap Byleth from his depressive state, he came to a startling awareness of how exhausting it was to care for someone. Though, as draining as it was to cajole his love into eating and recognise the passing guards in greeting, he felt a certain pride and humbleness that Byleth held such confidence in his ability to care for him in his time of need.
They had made it to the council room where Claude and Dimitri were already inside, side by side huddled in front of their plans for Those Who Slither in the Dark. Claude had looked over his shoulder when Byleth and Linhardt had passed over the threshold and grinned. That stupid, handsome, smile. Linhardt was suddenly alone as Byleth took it upon himself to shuffle over to the archer and Faerghus King.
So, yes, Linhardt was bitter. He had slumped himself in his chair adjacent to Byleth's and mentally ripped up the rather expressive and touching speech he had been finalising. He knew he was being melodramatic, Byleth was going through a lot. Perhaps he needed the assurance from a friend to know that whatever the case, his heart still beats for them all. Albeit, Claude hadn't been there when the professor had cried himself to sleep, or there when he woke, eyes unfocused and lost.
It had been scary to see Byleth like that. And only now did Linhardt become aware that his own hands were shaking slightly from the tension. Linhardt took some deep breathes and focused on Byleth's demeanour. He was becoming clearer, eyes refocusing and his body movements returning its graceful fluidity. Linhardt, despite the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, let out a sigh of relief.
It wasn't much longer for the others to arrive and take their respected seats. A small argument between Felix and Sylvain was squashed almost as quickly as it started as Dimitri glared at his redheaded friend. That seemed to spur Byleth into starting the meeting, and if Linhardt hadn't been there through the professor's breakdown, he would never have guessed the man had been emotionally and mentally venerable a few moments ago.
Byleth seemed more relaxed with everyone surrounding him and Linhardt could understand that. Byleth had grown accustomed to others coming to him for advice, answers or simply just an ear to rely on. He was their mentor and friend, and Linhardt sensed that Byleth needed this to come to his own understanding that he was, and always had been, more than his chequered past.
Linhardt felt the bitterness dissipate and be replaced with fondness. He yawned silently, covering his mouth and ignored the smirk Claude gave him. Seteth took over once Byleth was done and the professor took his seat, and to Linhardt's surprise, covered the warlock's hand with his own. Linhardt felt his heart stutter as the professor offered him a brief smile and a gentle squeeze to his fingers before concentrating on what Seteth had to say.
"Now Certification Exams will be held today before we march tomorrow," Seteth announced and Linhardt tensed. He was nowhere near ready for the exam. As much as Byleth insisted that becoming a Mortal Savant would be the best course of action for him, Linhardt had remained sceptical. His exam, according to Seteth, would be this afternoon after Lysithea's. The warlock nodded in confirmation and clutched at Byleth's hand for comfort.
The meeting was dismissed and everyone went their own ways. Linhardt had been guided to the training grounds and thrust into the mist of swordplay. Byleth insisted on determining that Linhardt was on par with the exam's expectations. They trained for some time before Linhardt found himself sprawled on the ground after Byleth tripped him.
"T-That's cheating." Linhardt was breathing heavily and leaned on shaky limbs to balance himself. Byleth smiled and shrugged before sheathing his sword. He approached the downed warlock and lifted him to his feet.
"You are a good swordsman," Byleth informed Linhardt and took the sword from him. He swung it casually around his finger and quirked a brow. "I did not want to lose."
Linhardt huffed and rolled his eyes as he folded his arms. "Do not pity me."
"No, I was being sincere." Byleth stopped the swords movements and leaned it against the pillar behind them before grasping Linhardt's hands. "You have trained well, I tricked you because you almost had me."
Linhardt blinked in disbelief. "Truly?"
Byleth nodded and brought the warlock's fingers to his lips. Linhardt blushed lightly at the feeling of the professor's soft touch.
"Thank you for looking after me this morning," Byleth said and Linhardt blinked. That was sudden but certainly welcome to the warlock's ears. He smiled tenderly at the professor and wrapped his arms around Byleth's neck as he was pulled into the professor's embrace. "I must apologise for my behaviour towards you also. It was unkind and must have hurt you."
Linhardt shook his head and nosed Byleth's neck. "Please do not apologise. As much as it enraged me to see you relaxing in someone else's company than my own, it was what you needed. I cannot be mad at that."
"I love you so much," Byleth whispered and held Linhardt tightly. The warlock returned the strength and muttered his love in an unsteady reply.
Linhardt passed the certification exam with flying colours. He had been uncharacteristically focused on the exam. He wanted to prove not only to his classmates that he was more than just the lazy, breezy loafer, but to himself that if he put his, 'big 'ol brain' -as Caspar calls it- to use he could pass. Seteth gave him his armour and Linhardt swiftly changed. He left the classroom where Byleth, and to his surprise, Raphael and Sylvain were waiting outside.
"You did it!" Raphael exclaimed in glee, pushing passed the professor and smacked Linhardt on the back. Linhardt yelped lightly and tripped froward from the brawler's force into Byleth.
"Congratulations." Sylvain smiled and winked before he followed after Seteth as he called to him. Linhardt couldn't help but simper in delight and blushed as he felt Byleth peck his cheek. The warlo- now mortal savant, turned to the professor whose eyes gleaned with pride.
"I'm proud of you," Byleth said and Linhardt felt his whole body warm. Linhardt looked down at himself and cocked his head to the side as he spoke.
"You don't think it's too much?" He asked with a teasing tone and gulped in anticipation as Byleth swiftly and rather boldly undressed Linhardt with his eyes.
"Perhaps a little. Though it does look good on you." The professor commented and ran his finger down the fur that lined Linhardt's collar. The mortal savant was already imagining how Byleth would torturedly remove his layers in the throes of passion. The professor's steady and nimble fingers, expertly unclasping and sneakily pushing up his undershirt to feel at his pale abdomen. How Byleth would steal his breath away as he nuzzled between the thick fur to bite at the expanse of his unblemished neck.
Linhardt snapped out of his fantasy as Raphael cleared his throat to prompt them that they had company. Byleth kept his composure and apologised to Raphael who was red-faced at the thought, of what Linhardt could only imagine, was along the lines of his own distracting fabrications. Byleth offered to buy Raphael lunch as an apology, and of course, without any hesitation, the brawler easily accepted.
As they sat and enjoyed a nice meal, Linhardt allowing Byleth and Raphael to maintain the conversation flow. He could feel the fatigue catching up to him now that he was relaxed. They were soon joined by the rest of the Golden Deer, one by one. They all congratulated Linhardt on passing his exam and before long the mortal savant nodded off with his chin in hand.
Linhardt was abruptly awoken when a new voice joined the ruckus of the Golden Deer and their cheery behaviour. Seteth stood behind Claude who tilted his head back until it hit the top of the chair and Linhardt certainly didn't miss the not so subtle wink Claude sent Seteth's way. Linhardt watched as Seteth jolted slightly at the action before he swiftly lifted his gaze from the archer.
"Lady Rhea wishes to speak to both of you." Seteth aimed his speech towards Byleth who tensed immediately.
"Both?" Claude asked in curiosity and lifted his head. Seteth nodded as he rounded Claude's chair. Linhardt grasped Byleth's arm and tried to keep the professor from unravelling back into his unresponsive self.
"She wishes to speak with you also Claude," Seteth informed the archer who seemed a little shocked. Claude tried to mentally attain information from Seteth and pursed his lips when the man looked on unimpressed. "It seems she wishes to tell you everything."
"You mean the truth?" Claude stood and rose a challenging brow as he folded his arms. "And you've agreed to it?"
"I do not know what you are implying…" Seteth started but huffed in annoyance as Claude scoffed. "Very well, I agreed. I think it's important for you to know."
Claude hummed in uncertainty before dropping his arms and turning to Byleth.
"Let's go see what she has to say for herself," Claude announced and returned the glare Seteth gave him with a smile. Byleth rose unsteadily and Linhardt tightened his hold and rose with him. He cupped Byleth's jaw and ensured the professor was looking at him in the eye.
"Claude will be with you. Just remember I love you how you are." Linhardt whispered and Byleth smiled softly.
"Thank you, my love." The professor kissed Linhardt's palm before pulling away and headed after Claude and Seteth.
No matter how many times Linhardt emptied his mind as he laid beneath the tree in the garden sleep continued to elude him. He had promised himself to not allow his anxiety for Byleth's wellbeing to consume him. Linhardt had the constant reminder that the professor was not alone, and he knew Claude would unquestionably speak his mind in Byleth's defence. But as Linhardt stared up at the rustling leaves that threatened to break away from their branch, he prayed to the Goddess that whatever happens Byleth would be okay.
An impromptu meeting was called and Linhardt had just about to doze off before Annette tripped and fell beside him with a squeal. Linhardt twisted his head to find her jumping to her feet and brushing herself over.
"Professor called a council meeting!" Annette remarked as she pulled roughly at Linhardt's sleeve. "Come on, Linhardt!"
Linhardt yawned and helped steady Annette after she ungracefully swayed on unstable feet as Linhardt rose. They headed to the council room once more that day and Linhardt came to Byleth's side and was beyond grateful to find the professor smiling at his presence.
"What happened?" Linhardt asked searching for an answer in Byleth's features. The professor motioned to their seats and held the mortal savant's hand in reassurance.
"You'll find out," Byleth whispered and motioned for them to focus on Claude and Dimitri who had taken their position.
Linhardt was somewhat astounded by what was being shared with them all. Several times Linhardt, and others, had to look over at Seteth who would simply nod in confirmation. As Claude explained everything, it made more sense in Linhardt's mind. Rhea was the Immaculate One, Seteth was Saint Cichol and Flayn was Saint Cethleann. The history was enticing for Linhardt's academic mind and was entrapped as Dimitri took over. He informed them who Those that Slither in the Dark were, and what their intended plans were for Fódlan. Which then led to a bombardment of questions of what those plans were. It seemed Rhea could only speculate on their true intentions but those were just as terrifying.
The followers of Nemesis wishing to resurrect him to his full power. The very thought had Linhardt clutching his leg in uneasiness. To think anyone had such power and be used against them, was unnerving. Though, despite that, Linhardt had quite powerful allies. Not counting the actual Gods among them, Claude and Dimitri were forces to be reckoned with, and those they chose to keep around them were among the best of their peers. Linhardt looked around the room at the many faces and found his apprehension lessening.