Dorothea would be the Black Eagles' representative for the White Heron Cup.
The representative in question had been surprised by the announcement, her green eyes going wide, though Blaise couldn't quite pin down how she had been surprised. She'd put in the effort, she'd worked hard, she out-performed Ferdinand.
Thus, she was the representative.
Everyone, even Ferdinand, was ecstatic for her. There was no doubt in their minds they were going to win. Blaise would like to see who in the other houses could dance halfway as well as Dorothea. There certainly wasn't anyone more captivating.
With the obvious exception of Edelgard who wasn't here so…
Yes, the Black Eagles had the White Heron Cup in the bag.
All that was left to do was inform Manuela of her decision.
It was quite late, early morning actually, and Blaise was going to leave it until the next day except she crossed paths with a knight. He was quite angry, stomping so loud Blaise was surprised he didn't have disgruntled students on his tail. Still, Blaise wouldn't have thought twice about him except he called out to her.
"You, Eisner!"
Blaise paused mid step, her hand dropping just a bit lower to her sword's hilt.
Instinct, of course.
"You're buddies with Manuela, right? I got a message for her."
Oh?
She tilted her head, one eyebrow slightly raised.
"We'll never go out together again," the knight snapped before he stomped right on by.
She watched him go, Blaise rolling her eyes. What a baby. Manuela wasn't that bad even when she was wasted.
With a sigh, Blaise changed her direction back toward the infirmary to check on her fellow honorary Black Eagle. The hallways were silent now that Sir Stomps-A-Lot had descended the stairs. The infirmary sounded quiet as well once she stood outside the door. Maybe she should just leave it for the morning... What if Manuela was asleep?
She had a mental image of the former songstress silently drinking herself into oblivion.
Blaise knocked and then knocked again when she didn't immediately get a response.
"I... who... Oh settle down and stop with the knocking. I'll be there in two shakes" came Manuela's disgruntled voice. It sounded thick with sleep.
So she had been asleep. Good job, Blaise.
Well, it would be worse to leave now that Manuela was awake and coming to answer the door if the sounds on the other side told her anything. It sounded like hard work on her part.
"Who is it?" Manuela demanded over the sound of something heavy falling.
Blaise chewed her lip, not sure how to answer that. Hesitantly, she knocked again.
Luckily, Manuela seemed to at least suspect it was her and not someone continuously knocking. "Blaise? Is that you?"
Another light rap on the door.
"I- just a moment..." Manuela's voice lowered albeit not enough for Blaise to quit being able to hear. "Manuela, you really must quit... Ugh. Hold on. Where are my clothes? I can't even find my- where in blazes is my underwear?!"
Blaise did wonder if Manuela knew she could still be heard. As it was, Blaise simply shook her head, hoping her face wasn't heating enough to be noticeable. "…Oh, I- what is my dressing robe caught on? I can't tie this properly! It's not even covering- Oh, Manuela … this will have to do."
At least Blaise wasn't like Seteth or someone important coming to check on the Songstress. Blaise could see that being a problem.
The door finally swung open to reveal a distressed Manuela. She looked awfully pale even in the dark, hair an absolute mess, and her clothes... well, she tried to cover herself. Blaise could appreciate the attempt.
"Oh, thank the Goddess it's only you," Manuela groaned, a hand cradling her head.
Blaise tried not to feel irritated by the greeting.
Yes, it was only her.
That was put less delicately than usual. Clearly, Manuela was still a bit drunk.
Blaise stepped inside, pushing Manuela a step back so she could close the door before someone else wandered out to see their head physician in such a state.
"You had a reason for coming here I assume. I've put a lot of effort into making it possible to speak with you, you know."
I heard.
Also, the infirmary was a mess of empty alcohol bottles, a shattered glass or two, knocked over chairs... so that was all the noise she'd heard.
Manuela huffed, Blaise beginning to wonder if the woman wasn't just drunk but also sour with her. "I do hope you have the decorum to pretend you heard nothing." A pause. "So what do you want?" she inquired.
Blaise hesitated. Maybe the knight's message could wait if she was upset with her too. She knew she hadn't been the best company lately, and it wasn't Manuela's fault she was moody and paranoid and on edge.
Sorry.
A long pause followed.
Manuela blinked before letting out a long groan.
"No, you've done nothing wrong. Let's just say I'm not having a good day." Manuela glanced out the window which was still dark. "Rather, I'm not having a good night... Never mind," she grumbled. "But quit changing the subject, it's late to be visiting for idle chit chat. Does something hurt? You haven't been sneaking onto the training grounds, have you?" The glare she gave Blaise was quite severe.
Blaise shook her head.
I was on my way to my room and a knight stopped me to give you a message.
"You heard from him?!" She was definitely surprised and maybe just a tad hopeful. "Huh, what'd he say?" Manuela asked.
Blaise considered the mess that was Manuela and the infirmary.
He was rude. I don't approve.
A moment passed, Manuela's expression unreadable until she snorted. Disappointed and unsurprised. Blaise could sympathize with the feeling. She went for something likely to truly cheer her up.
I chose a representative for the White Heron Cup.
It had the desired affect, Manuela's gaze losing that sulking distance and softening when she looked at Blaise. "Don't leave me wondering, dear, who did you choose?"
Dorothea.
Blaise knew the younger opera star held a special place in Manuela's heart, and it was doubly apparent in her smile at this moment. Her voice caught, Blaise suspecting she was overcome with emotion. "Excellent choice, dear…" she admitted, "...Dorothea is a beautiful dancer. I taught her, you know? Back at Mittlefrank Opera," she breathed. "Of course, she's evolved since then into something all her own."
Blaise felt a smile tug at her lips. It was quite obvious to most everyone who Dorothea's inspiration was.
Ferdinand wouldn't stop talking about a sword dance he saw you perform once.
Manuela actually flushed enough Blaise could tell in the dark. "He knows of that? Why he would have been… seven? Eight?" she exclaimed.
He saw your every performance between the ages of five and eleven.
"He- he did?!"
Yes, Manuela was definitely flattered. Blaise mentally congratulated herself. If she didn't know any better she'd say Manuela looked about to cry from sheer joy.
That's what he said.
Blaise paused with her hand in the air, a sudden thought flashing through her mind. Zanado lit by stars and herself ...
Will you teach me?
Manuela started. "Pardon?"
To dance? Will you teach me?
She wanted to dance. She remembered thinking it. She'd wanted to ask Chevalier but never had...
And sure she'd learned some from the lessons with Dorothea and Ferdinand, but Manuela was different than them. She was kind of like Chevalier. She... well, she was a star.
"I- you've been dancing, dear. Quite well from what I've seen…" Manuela began, pausing only when Blaise exaggerated her expression into what she hoped would come across as pleading. "... Oh, fine, but put those away," she complained, waving at Blaise's wide eyes. "Maybe we can fit a practice or two in. But starting tomorrow. If that's all, go on. I appreciate you checking on me but you should be resting. Go. Get."
Blaise allowed herself to be ushered out, a bit of a newfound skip in her step.
~FE~
Blaise didn't see Manuela that next morning, deciding she had earned a late morning start after the previous night.
Or so she had thought.
She awoke much earlier than she wanted to a knock on her door that only persisted as she ignored it. She dragged herself out of bed, across the room, and opened the door to be met with Ferdinand's bright smile.
Goddess, his smile was brighter than the sun.
She blinked, raising one eyebrow in a silent question.
"Blaise! We are in need of you for our morning session. It seems Manuela has a meeting with the Archbishop over the White Heron Cup preparations and will be late," Ferdinand explained.
Oh.
Blaise scratched her head, briefly lamenting the loss of sleep as well as her surprise. Maybe she needed to take charge of Manuela's schedule if for no other reason than to know when she would be needed for the Black Eagles.
As it was, Blaise gestured for Ferdinand to give her a moment while she suited up in her armor and half-heartedly pulled a brush through her hair. She and Ferdinand made it to the classroom just as Caspar was dragging Linhardt inside. Everyone else was already there in their usual seats.
She paused, glancing at the two seats in the front and center of which remained empty.
Blaise shook her head to clear it.
What have you been working on?
Obviously they couldn't spend all their time dancing, especially when there was only one representative per house.
Linhardt yawned but actually caught and comprehended her Sign first. "Strategies for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion." He stretched back in his chair. "Not that it matters. The Golden Deer have all the advantages," he drawled.
"Yeesh, Linhardt. Where's your Black Eagle pride?" Caspar complained, lightly shoving the healer seated next to him.
Blaise heard some murmured complaints from Ferdinand but, overwhelmingly, the Black Eagles seemed to agree with Linhardt. Dorothea remained silent, avoiding Blaise's gaze by feigning extensive interest in the papers on her desk, and even Petra, who had been enthusiastic the night of Blaise's return to the group, was silent.
It spoke volumes.
And Blaise couldn't quite argue when the Golden Deer and even the Blue Lions had advantages the Black Eagles had to compensate for. Edelgard hadn't just been an excellent soldier but a morale booster on the field. Hubert, despite his dour personality, had been deeply motivated for them to succeed and not bad with tactics either.
Then there was Balen who had soundly and single-handedly beat Edelgard and Hubert during the mock battle and Blaise had yielded to a few months back.
Yes, Balen was a serious challenge with Edelgard and Hubert but a nearly impossible challenge without them.
Strategies alone weren't going to bring them a win this time. They had to address some of these problems before moving on.
Blaise pointed to Ferdinand, surprised to see everyone was already looking at her. The young cavalier straightened in his seat at the directive.
You're taking Hubert's place in tactics.
He'd shown promise before the Conand tower mission and it was time to pursue it. Ferdinand would never be as calculating as Hubert, but he'd come a long way from that boy she first met who scoffed at the very idea of attacking a "passerby" on the field. Besides that, Ferdinand was deeply loyal to his classmates. He would be less willing to sacrifice them for a more trivial win and, in the case of this battle, they needed as many Black Eagles on the field for as long as possible if they had any hope.
Ferdinand stood to his feet and bowed. "I would be honored," he agreed.
Blaise barely acknowledged him with a nod before transferring her attention to Dorothea. The former Songstress shifted in what Blaise thought may be a rare show of nerves.
Team Leader One.
A swivel to Petra next to her.
Team Leader Two.
No one person here could embody what Edelgard brought to the team on such short notice, but Dorothea had the charisma and Petra had the best fighting and leadership skill of the remaining Black Eagles.
Together, they would be a force all their own.
If there came a point where it was necessary to split the Black Eagles up on the field or separation occurred just from the flow of battle, they would know who to follow.
That, as insignificant as it may seem, could make the difference between a win and a loss.
It also lit a fire in Petra as Blaise hoped it might.
"I will be leading the Black Eagles to victory!"
Dorothea, on the other hand, wasn't as enthused. Nervous, Blaise guessed. "I don't know, Blaise. What about you and Manuela?" she asked.
Blaise tilted her head, refraining from reminding her she and Manuela would not always be around. They would graduate soon and Manuela would get a new class of students and Blaise would... do something.
No, this battle was for the students to show what they could do together.
Manuela will be support, but you can't rely on one person. You need to work together.
She got a nod or two in response, but there was a silent question in all their eyes. One they expected an answer to.
Blaise took a deep breath.
I'm going to deal with Balen.
Because then nothing would stand in the way of the Black Eagles.
… And she couldn't think of a better way to get all eyes on her. Particularly a pair of calculating lavender.
She worked hard to maintain their focus from that point on. It wouldn't do for them to get discouraged. So while the White Heron Cup wasn't going to directly improve their battle skills, Blaise didn't fight their enthusiasm for it.
It would be good for Dorothea, if nothing else. Boost her confidence in her team leader role that Blaise could tell she was resisting.
Still, the entire event was as frivolous an affair as Blaise had imagined. She watched as each day a new decoration was added to the grand entrance hall where the competition would be held. She watched as the students grew ever more cheerful with each passing day, hour, minute … It was almost contagious with how deeply Blaise desired to see her eagles smile.
Almost.
She couldn't quite get there herself no matter how hard she tried. She didn't think anyone really noticed this time though for which she was grateful. In the end, she itched for it to be done and over with so she could personally hit up the training grounds.
When the day finally came around, Blaise stood on the edge of the crowd upon the base of an archway, allowing her a decent enough view of the soon-to-begin contest over the heads of the many students. It was a nice, out-of-the-way spot where she didn't have to concern herself with conversation.
Balen was the only one to find her there, her brother silently passing her a steaming cup of tea as he settled beside her.
She still wasn't the biggest fan of tea except when it got her time with a certain silver-haired princess, but she accepted her brother's offering nevertheless. It was warm in her hands if nothing else.
Are your students as excited as mine?
Blaise didn't immediately respond to Balen's question, opting to sip her tea as her eyes sought out her Black Eagles. They were all surrounding Dorothea. Laughing and bright-eyed… Alongside the overly cheerful Monica. The sight tugged at her chest.
Yes.
She didn't like that tug within her so forced a smile on her face as if it would diminish the feeling. She fell back on an old habit of teasing Balen.
They know Dorothea will win for them.
Balen paused at raising his cup to his lips, his eyes suddenly looking at her with a newfound intensity that made Blaise tilt her head and wonder what he was thinking. It took a moment but he eventually huffed a sound that may have been akin to a laugh before resuming his tea drinking.
Blaise felt a smile pull at her lips and shook her head, eyes flickering back to the students.
What little smile she had disappeared.
She will. Hilda wouldn't practice.
This time Blaise snorted. How odd that the Black Eagles had been all over the opportunity when Balen had such trouble with the Golden Deer. Maybe it was a formal noble thing.
She vaguely wondered who the Blue Lions representative was as the lights began to dim except on the makeshift dance floor, and the excited chatter fell away in anticipation. Blaise took another sip of her tea, grimacing more than a little at it's bitter flavor.
Was it bad she thought this ridiculous when it made everyone else so happy? Hell, even Bernadetta was present and not cowering under a table.
Dorothea looked utterly gorgeous in the burgundy dress she had chosen, light reflecting off of glitter with every movement and her hair curled and done up in an extravagant style. She paused in the middle of the lights, a bright smile on her face.
She looked like she belonged there.
Blaise took more of a gulp of her drink this time, lamenting for just a moment it wasn't something stronger.
The music began, a soft ballad that even Blaise could admit was a perfect choice for Dorothea's style of dancing. She had the judges enraptured immediately in the spins and sways. Manuela, of course, looked about to cry in adoration. Then again, Alois did too, but his was more likely to be because he was such a softy than any personal investment. Shamir was as composed as ever as she watched each step Dorothea made around the room.
Blaise was grateful Dorothea's dance was over quickly. She had no obligation to watch Annette or even Hilda's performance. She itched to leave, to pick up her sword and whack a training dummy until it fell apart.
She stayed until Dorothea was announced the winner and the student was swarmed by the Black Eagles. She stayed until Manuela cleared them out of the way to dote on Dorothea in a way that struck Blaise as very much like Chevalier. The way they gazed upon the other made her chest ache.
She had to remind herself not to squeeze the cup in her hand lest it shatter.
With a final swallow that drained the last of her cold and bitter tea, Blaise turned, carefully giving the now-empty cup to Balen as she slipped to the ground. Except for Balen, she did not think anyone noticed her leave on her own.
Blaise promised herself she would congratulate Dorothea later. Maybe after she massacred a training dummy or two. She needed to get the ache out before she shattered like a delicate tea cup under too much pressure.
~FE~
It was well into the night when she emerged out of the training grounds and began her silent stroll in the direction of her dormitory. Despite it all, she could still hear the sounds of celebration. She was too sore and tired though to contemplate the idea of joining.
Garreg Mach would wake the next morning to find several practice dummies obliterated into pieces or completely missing.
She didn't feel bad about it. If anything, she felt at least a little satisfied.
"Blaise."
She was just passing the first- floor dormitories of which were dead silent when the sound of her name made her pause. She looked around but didn't see anyone. There was no one on the path and all the doors to the dorms were closed.
...
Actually, one might be open. Just a sliver.
Blaise tilted her head, waiting to see if the mysterious voice called again.
Sure enough, that one door cracked open a little more and Blaise caught a glimpse of wild purple hair. "Blaise," Bernadetta called. Her hand left the safety of her room to wave Blaise over.
Her dormitory forgotten by her curiosity, Blaise shifted course and approached the door which shuddered further closed so only a slit was still open. She obediently stopped outside but did wonder whether Bernadetta thought this through. Blaise couldn't exactly speak through the door.
"I've, uh, got something for you. Wait there," Bernadetta's borderline panicked voice carried to her before the door shut completely with a reverberating thump.
Okay.
Blaise glanced around for anyone watching her stand outside a random dormitory doing, you know, nothing. Still empty so she remained there, tapping her foot while listening to the faint sounds of movement from the dormitory before her.
Several minutes passed before the door cracked open again and Bernadetta's hand slipped out, fingers clutched around an object.
Blaise reached out to take it, surprised to find it was soft and plushy. About the size of her palm, the little eagle doll was hand knit with fine thread and arguably overfilled with cotton. She liked it though, amused by how it squished if she poked it.
"I– I made it. Because, you know... Imissedyouandthoughtitmightmakeyoufeelbetter."
The door shut with a louder crack and Blaise was left attempting to decipher the last of what Bernadetta had said. She ran a hand through her hair, eyes flickering from the eaglet toy to the closed door.
She knocked.
There was a sound of a yelp on the other side of the door. "Ah! I'm sorry! I thought you would like it but you don't, do you? Of course you don't. Stupid Bernie! Useless, worthless, unmarriegable…"
Blaise knocked again, fighting the urge to do so a little harder in case it scared Bernadetta more.
"You're going to kill me, aren't you? I- I guess it is your right after what I've done."
This time Blaise did knock harder, mentally deciding to break the door down if Bernadetta didn't open it in fifteen seconds.
She was on ten when Bernadetta sighed, "Okay. I've made my peace."
The door cracked open and Blaise shoved her foot in the threshold in case Bernadetta tried to shut her out again. Otherwise, she remained behind the door as the shut-in girl would prefer, only twisting her hand around the door so her Sign would be legible.
Assuming, of course, Bernie had her eyes open.
I love it.
"...Wait. You what?"
Blaise frowned, unable to determine whether Bernadetta was surprised she loved the plush eaglet or whether she missed what she'd Signed.
The door was lacking in context.
She repeated the motion.
I love it.
"You love it?"
Yes.
"Really?" Her voice rose in pitch, making Blaise's lips twitch in a smile. "Are you sure?"
Yes.
Bernadetta let out a sigh of relief that was followed by another stretch of silence. Blaise's wrist was beginning to hurt from the awkward angle twisted around the edge of the door and so opted to try her luck.
Can I come out from behind the door?
"Oh, uh, S-sure!"
Slowly, Blaise peeked around the door, the rest of her body following when Bernadetta didn't immediately bolt. The young Black Eagle stood with her head slightly ducked, hands fidgeting in front of her. Blaise offered a smile and transferred her gaze to the toy.
Thank you. It's adorable.
Bernadetta turned red at the comment but her small smile betrayed her pleasure. Still, she fidgeted more. "I- hoping–ask something–maybe," she mumbled.
The mercenary tilted her head in a nod she hoped was encouraging.
"I know you have plans for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion and, um, I'll probably mess them up, but I'll mess them up anyways so I was wondering if maybe Icouldstaywithyou…" she trailed off with a shudder, her eyes squeezing shut as if expecting Blaise to smite her.
As it was, Blaise blinked, momentarily stunned by the question. And a little sad. She debated her best course of action before resting a gentle hand on Bernadetta's shoulder. It had the desired affect of coaxing her to open her eyes.
I'm going to intercept Balen, you know.
One of the more difficult jobs if she said so herself. She would think Bernadetta would be more comfortable among her classmates.
"I-I know," Bernadetta squeaked. "Maybe I could, um, help?"
Having an archer with her wasn't exactly a bad plan and she would think the other houses would be expecting her to use Petra and not Bernadetta. The shy girl could be the wild card advantage she needed.
If Bernadetta was sure she could handle it.
There might not be anyone else with us.
The purple-haired swallowed hard but actually stood a touch straighter. "I understand."
Huh.
Blaise had always questioned Bernadetta's presence at the academy. It was a shame such a soft soul had to be put through the kind of missions she had been on. Bandits, demonic beasts, assassination attempts...
But maybe something good managed to come out of it as well.
The Bernadetta at the beginning of the year wouldn't be volunteering for a difficult mission. The Bernadetta at the beginning of the year wouldn't have trusted her so thoroughly.
She clicked her tongue.
I have not finalized how I want to approach Balen, but I'll work you in and let you know.
It would change things up in a way Blaise hadn't expected, but then no one else would be expecting it either.
She dropped her gaze to the plush Eaglet as Bernadetta acknowledged her words and promptly slammed the door in her face. She huffed a silent laugh.
She certainly had much to think on.
~FE~
"Much to think on" may have been an understatement as the three Houses all buckled down their training for the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Between Blaise's suggestions and Manuela's direction, the Black Eagles were truly improving. At the very least they had maintained their enthusiasm.
Ferdinand was pouring over strategy books and tactics in a way that even Hubert would have found impressive. Bernadetta was taking stealth lessons. Petra and Dorothea were taking turns leading the Eagles through drills. Blaise also insisted Petra focus on her marksmanship once Manuela mentioned there would be a ballista on the field.
She got some funny looks at that with Bernadetta being on their team, but no one asked. Blaise didn't offer any information on her Balen job either.
If she were being honest, she didn't have any.
"Dealing with Balen" was much easier said than done. She still didn't know how she was going to do it. She knew better than most, maybe even anyone, what it took to go up against him. As mercenaries, it had been a toss up which one of them would win as they had been more or less equals.
Now though...
Blaise was out of shape. The dancing had not gotten her even close to Balen's level and, with only a few weeks between the White Heron Cup and the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, the probability of her attaining the near perfection she needed slipped further from her grasp with every passing moment. Even if she did miraculously reach that level, she didn't have a weapon that could withstand the Sword of the Creator. She'd learned that lesson when they'd sparred.
So Blaise needed a plan to overcome her shortcomings.
But what kind of plan? Balen was no fool on the battlefield, after all, and he was bound to have his students around him while Blaise, at most, would have Bernadetta.
She supposed she could try an ambush as not-thrilled as she was about the idea. Or maybe challenge him to a one-on-one duel and hope his students were cocky enough in his abilities to not shoot her in the back. Bernadetta could remain hidden and either snipe Balen when Blaise had him distracted or pick off some Golden Deer students.
Blaise shook her head. It was riskier than she cared to go.
She wasn't opposed to sacrificing herself. In fact, she kind of expected to, but she had to be absolutely certain Balen would go down with her and Bernadetta could get away.
Pausing to tap her foot, Blaise pivoted in the other direction. Maybe she was getting too far ahead of herself. She would start with finding a weapon. The traveling merchants had to have something in their wares.
The marketplace was bustling when Blaise wandered into the area. The day was all sunshine, not a cloud in the sky, and unseasonably warm. It seemed everyone was taking advantage of the nice weather to shop. Maneuvering through the crowd was not that difficult though. No one paused to speak with her and she made it to the armory in short order.
And they had nothing.
Not literally, she supposed, since they had iron, steel, and silver. They had a few specialty weapons too that were beautiful and deadly in their own right but not against Balen. Not against the Sword of the Creator.
She huffed, suddenly feeling frustrated and maybe a little overwhelmed.
She needed to do this. It was the whole point.
Edelgard would be watching.
Scenarios ran through her head, each worse and more ridiculous than the next, but they had one theme in common. She failed, bested by Balen over and over again.
"Oh, Névé! You came to look at weapons too?"
Blaise winced, not even attempting to hide her grimace as Monica suddenly sidled up to her. Luckily no one seemed to have heard the other girl's slip of "Névé." All she needed was for a Knight to hear it and drag her to Rhea...
She made no effort to acknowledge Monica, the red in her periphery more than enough for her. Instead she stared at the weapons laid out before her.
Monica's arm shot in front of her, grasping a jagged blade by the hilt and swinging it haphazardly through the air between them.
Blaise felt the air rush by, felt the static from the magic imbued within the weapon frazzle the area around them. Monica wasn't very adept. Blaise knew if she held the weapon and waved it around like that, she'd, at the very least, have busted a window. Swords like this one were finicky and dependent on an individual's affinity. Some byproduct of someone trying to feel as if they resonate with a weapon when they didn't bear a Crest. A salty noble with some magic affinity trying to prove their status maybe?
She supposed she could relate on some level.
Monica's finger trailed the sharp edge of the blade with morbid fascination. Red eyes settled over the sword, peering at her, as a smirk crossed her features. "Wanna try it out with me?" she queried. The underlying threat was evident in her tone.
Not really.
Her neck seemed to tingle from the memory of Monica's dagger cutting her skin. Blaise sure didn't want to get stabbed by the jagged sword she now held. Magic affinity or not, that sword would leave a nasty wound not easily healed.
"Oh come on," Monica drawled in a dramatically high-pitched tone. "Don't you think I should get some practice in before the Battle of the Eagle and Lion too? You're working so hard with the others," she complained, having the audacity to sound left out.
The few muscles not already as tense as a bowstring tightened and, this time, she did force herself to tilt her head.
Monica had that feral grin and sharp gleam to her eyes. "You look surprised. I'm disappointed you haven't figured it out, Névé. Does Thales know how dense you are?"
Blaise's eyes narrowed. She wasn't so dense that she didn't know this Thales guy would be furious to know Monica was speaking so flippantly. She yanked her notebook from her cloak.
You're not on the team.
Monica straightened and swept forward until she was deep in Blaise's personal space. Her breath tickled Blaise's ear. "Actually, I am. You see since Edel took dear Hubert with her that leaves two open positions. You and me."
Blaise grit her teeth, silently cursing herself for not addressing that detail. She pointed to her notebook again.
You're not on the team.
She scribbled more.
I chose someone else already.
Of course she hadn't, but Monica didn't need to know that.
Blaise questioned the course of action she was choosing. Arguing with someone who already threatened to slit your throat was generally not a wise course of action. But Monica on the team... on her team. That was too much.
She straightened herself to her full height, her blood beginning to hum as her Crest branched out for whoever was nearest. It made her feel stronger.
Monica's grin had grown more bared and her words took on a growl. "That's funny since Manuela-"
Go find a different team. You're not participating as a Black Eagle.
The silence between them was palpable as the redheaded Agarthan in disguise clenched her fingers on the hilt of the blade she still held. "Change your mind," she hissed.
Not this time.
Blaise didn't reach for her sword but drew whatever Crest she had found closer to her, allowing it to build and build and build... If Monica made a move, she would meet her.
"Ladies! You have a problem, take it outside!"
The blacksmith's voice snapped Blaise from her trance, the pressure the Crests had created dispersing back to a low hum. Monica appeared to consider stabbing the blade through the Blacksmith but, just as suddenly, the sword was out of her hand.
Blaise was slightly dumbfounded as Sylvain returned the sword to the blacksmith and then casually threw an arm around both her and Monica. "My apologies for my friends. Certifications coming up, you know. Tensions high. I'll see them out," Sylvain lied smoothly, complete with a wink before he forced the two of them along.
Or at least attempted to.
Monica spat like an angry cat, shoving Sylvain off of her and storming out of her own accord.
Sylvain, interestingly, chuckled at the display. "I knew you weren't fond of her but getting into a fight in the middle of a store, Blaise?"
Blaise wasn't as amused. She shrugged him off, stomping away herself.
And straight for the Black Eagles' classroom where she promptly threw the door open without any regard for the ongoing lesson.
"Blaise, what –"
Monica can't be on the team.
Manuela paused, mouth partially open from the interruption.
It occurred to Blaise she really should have put it all more delicately. It's not like anyone knew... anything. The thought stung more than it should.
Manuela, her lips pursed, carefully closed the book she had been lecturing from. She Signed.
An interesting choice for her.
We have an open spot and Monica is proficient on the battlefield.
Blaise fought not to snort.
Yeah and Monica was practically psychotic.
She should just explain. She knew that.
Monica wasn't who everyone thought she was. Monica was part of the group who had kidnapped and tortured her. Monica had hurt and further threatened her.
…
But who would believe that?
Blaise banked on something else instead regardless of how childish it would come across.
I'm not on the team if she is.
The classroom had been completely silent since she'd stormed in and Blaise didn't dare look at her students. Manuela's shock was bad enough. Shock and disappointment.
Blaise's heart pounded in her chest.
Eventually, Manuela broke the stare in favor of the Black Eagles. "Kids, why don't you go on to lunch," she dismissed.
Still Blaise didn't look as the students gathered whatever they needed and filed past her, but she felt every one of their gazes piercing into her.
Manuela let out a breath as the door shut with a quiet click. Her hand massaged her temple. "Okay, start from the beginning. What's the problem?" she asked.
She didn't know what Manuela expected her to say. There wasn't a "beginning" to start from. Blaise just repeated herself.
I'm not on the team if Monica is.
"You know I would rather you weren't in the battle," Manuela pointed out.
Oh, yeah.
Blaise felt her heart skip a beat. That wasn't the direction she'd wanted Manuela to go.
Crestfallen was a good word for her spiraling mood.
"Of course taking you out now would destroy the kids' morale and only someone blind wouldn't be able to see how seriously you're taking this…" Blaise felt a spark of hope at that. "... However, we're still down a participant and I'm not convinced taking Monica out is the best solution," Manuela admitted, the hint of a challenge in her tone.
I have someone else. I have a plan.
A lie.
Everything was a lie.
"Care to explain your plan? You know that's how a team works, Blaise."
Irritation replaced her hurt.
After all, where was the team when she sat alone in a dark cell? Where were they when the Crest beast ripped her apart and she was bound to a steel table and there were knives and rats and the walls closed in? Where were they when a shackle was clamped around Chevalier's wrist and when the Death Knight shattered her own in her own dormitory.
Of course she knew she wasn't being quite fair but... none of it was fair.
Not the attack, not the imprisonment, not the Flame Emperor's abandonment.
And certainly not Monica creeping her way in.
"Blaise," Manuela called through the fog of her mind. "Breathe."
Blaise did, letting out air she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Manuela's expression had softened from a disgruntled teacher into a concerned physician as she leaned down to be more at Blaise's level.
"I'm not meaning to upset you, Blaise, but these kids trust you to help them win the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Are you sure about Monica?" Manuela gently prodded.
She nodded. More of a slight tilt of her head than anything.
The thought of Monica around her Eagles was worse than the thought of losing. Was worse than the thought of her failure.
What did her failure matter to anyone else anyways? Her Eagles would move on from a loss. Blaise just might not be wanted to move along with them.
And, honestly, what else was new there?
Just… keep Monica away from her. And them.
"Okay. We'll do this your way." Manuela squeezed Blaise's shoulder. "Let me know what I can help you do once you have it figured out," she offered. "And don't worry about explaining to the kids. I'll handle it."
Blaise was grateful. She needed to get away.
Luckily, it had only been eight minutes or so and no student was going to return from a voluntarily given early lunch any earlier than required so Blaise didn't have to worry about crossing paths with her Black Eagles.
She couldn't say the same for Sylvain who must have followed her from the marketplace.
"You're doing it again. The lonely wandering," he stated the moment the door shut behind her.
She stepped around him but couldn't say she was surprised when he fell in step with her.
"You really should relax more, enjoy the scenery, savor dinner. It doesn't last forever," Sylvain pointed out.
How dramatic.
Blaise dug out her notebook and flipped it, preparing to tell him off, when she paused.
It was his Crest she'd drawn to her in the marketplace, she realized. Was that why he was here? Had he felt it and come looking?
She tilted her head to consider him.
And her mind suddenly swam with possibilities. Crazy possibilities.
She couldn't, could she?
Do you want to be a Black Eagle?
There, she'd done it anyway.
His smile faded into confusion. Then he laughed. Hard. "What are you on about?" he asked once he had some semblance of control.
Blaise didn't laugh. She wasn't joking.
Sylvain got along well enough with the Black Eagles. He was a good fighter. He sure as hell was better to have than Monica.
He also had a hero's relic.
That she might could borrow to hold off the Sword of the Creator...
The pieces of her poorly-thought-out-and–practically-nonexistent plan began clicking in place.
Sylvain's amusement disappeared as it occurred to him she wasn't laughing with him. "Seriously, what are you on about?"
Blaise grinned.
Sylvain, do you want to be a Black Eagle?
He stared at the paper in front of him with an amused smile, but Blaise could see the wheels turning in his mind.
He was interested.
Sylvain crossed his arms. "What's the catch?" he inquired.
Blaise held up two fingers before scribbling on a fresh sheet of paper.
One, your involvement with the Black Eagles is a secret.
"A secret?" Sylvain laughed. "What's the point? Everyone will know when we start battle preparations. It's not going to throw off Dimitri or Claude."
Blaise shook her head.
Not before. During.
Sylvain said nothing so Blaise elaborated.
You start the battle as a Blue Lion and switch to the Black Eagles during.
"Turn coat, huh? Ingrid'll have my head," he chuckled. "Is that even allowed?" Sylvain wondered.
Blaise shrugged. It might be unorthodox but what wouldn't be allowed about it? The Black Eagles would go in down one and they come out with the correct number of participants. No extra people so at that point it's just strategy and using your resources.
That's what one did in battle.
I wasn't going to ask.
Sylvain smiled faintly. "I'm intrigued, Eisner. What's the second catch?"
…
I need to borrow the Lance of Ruin.
That drew a frown but she was confident he could care less about the lance itself and he knew she could handle it relatively safely.
"No crest beasts, I hope."
Nope.
She had him.
Blaise offered her hand.
Sylvain glanced at it, seemingly considering the offer. "Well, that's certainly interesting to say the least… and you did allow me to tag along against Miklan. Eh, what the hell. The thought of Felix's face will be worth it," he agreed.
He clasped her hand and, just like that, Blaise felt a spark of hope. Maybe she and the Eagles could all get what they wanted yet.
There was only one important piece missing and she arrived just past noon on the twenty fourth of the Ethereal Moon.
Blaise knew she was coming long before her company arrived. She knew when they were on the path through the forest, Blaise shoving her half-eaten lunch to Raphael before bolting out of the Dining Hall with Balen calling after her. She was climbing up the wall surrounding Garreg Mach as they crossed the field.
The Empire soldiers were at the gate when Blaise leaned over the edge of the wall. Polished black armor emblazoned with a crimson double-headed eagle shone in the sunlight.
But Blaise had no eyes for the soldiers.
Only the silver-haired princess situated on a white mare at the helm of the battalion.
Blaise, despite all of her worries and all of her irritations and the general problems she had going on between herself and the Flame Emperor, could not stop from pulling slightly on Edelgard's Crests.
As if she had called her name aloud, Edelgard von Hresvelg turned in her saddle, lavender eyes meeting blue for the first time in months.
The resulting smile may have been small but it was soft and, well, radiant if Blaise said so herself.
It took her breath away.
She didn't think she minded finding herself breathless. Not this time.
A/N:
Personal belief- All Byleths deserve to be able to dance.
Thank you, everyone! I appreciate all of you.