As the year prowls into the Red Wolf Moon, it brings with it a growing chill and a sense of change in the air, the winter months fast approaching. When he isn't in class, Dedue notices that at least one the Black Eagles is around him, whether it's Caspar and Petra sparring with him in the training hall, Bernadetta joining him every now and then in the greenhouse, Edelgard and Ferdinand eating with him in the dining hall, or Dorothea constantly bringing him to the marketplace so that they can look at jewelry together.

She gushes over how pretty a silver ring is, and as soon as he touches it, he scowls, reads a sign that declares the maker of the ring, and stares the vendor down. "That's not worth what he says it is," he warns her, putting the ring back.

"Hm, really?" Dorothea asks, looking up at him. "How badly was I about to get ripped off?"

"It's iron coated in silver, not pure silver. The craftsmanship is shoddy. Besides," Dedue continues, making sure that he keeps direct eye contact with the vendor, "this ring was not made by the Ardens family, because the forges that belonged to them were burned down by the Kingdom."

The merchant pales before he tosses the ring behind him. It hits the stone wall with a light ringing. "Right," he says apologetically, "sorry about that."

Dorothea sighs. "Can't trust anything now, can you?" she muses, already turning away. "Come on Duei, let's go talk to more trustworthy people." As they walk away, Dedue is pretty sure he sees Hubert duck behind a wall.

"So," Dorothea starts, "I didn't take you for a jewelry man. How did you know about the ring?"

"The Ardens and my family worked together in their forges," Dedue shares, watching as Byleth enters the marketplace and start looking around. "We had the materials and they had the space and furnaces."

The songstress hums carefully avoiding a cheerful Flayn as she dashes past them with bait for fishing. "Nice. So your family made jewelry?"

"No, my immediate family worked as blacksmiths and builders. I had a few cousins who focused on finer metalwork, but none of them would really call themselves jewelers, really." They're at a second merchant who's selling jewelry as Dedue finishes speaking.

Dorothea looks more interested than Dedue would have thought she'd be. "That's really nice. Were you going to be a blacksmith too?"

Dedue shook his head. "No, I was actually working better with my cousin Jule in agriculture and lumber. My sister was a lot better with metalworking then I was."

Dorothea looks at a golden bracelet made from a designer in Leicester. "Oh? What was her name?"

"Aura."

Dorothea smiles, putting the bracelet down. "That's a lovely name. Bet she was a wonderful person."

Dedue can't help but smile at the first memory he thinks of whenever he thinks of Aura: the two of them shoving flour in each other's faces. They were 10 and 11. "She was," he admits. He reaches out to touch the bracelet, feeling it for a few seconds to verify the relatively soft metal. "I think this one is real, if you were wondering."

"Eh," Dorothea shrugs, putting the bracelet. "I'm kind of hungry now. Want to go eat?"

"Sure."

"Oh, Your Highness," Ashe starts during lunch one day, cutting through the tension at the Blue Lions' table. "Taxes were just collected back home, right?"

Dimitri nodded. "That's right."

"I completely forgot about it, but did Lonato's proposal pass?" Ashe asks. "He told me that after adopting me and my siblings, he was looking up different ways to help support different local kitchens and orphanages by raising the funds from the budget."

Dedue looks down at the table, suddenly finding his lunch to be very interesting. The budget that passed took away a little bit of gold from everything to help fund the knights' coffers. As far as Dedue knew, no one even gave the dead man's proposal a serious glance.

"Sorry Ashe," Dimitri says apologetically. "A good portion of the budget went into helping the knights with weapon maintenance and production."

Ashe sighs. "Ah. How much of the budget went to the health of the public?"

Dedue looks up to see a conflicted look on Dimitri's face as he says, "I can't seem to remember. At least 75,000 gold."

Ashe looks disappointed. Dedue thinks he should be, considering that he remembers the Kingdom budget was around 900,000 gold. "Oh. That's not much."

"Well, we need to protect the citizens," Dimitri reasons. "We wouldn't be a good country if we couldn't protect our own from harm."

It's at this moment that Dedue remembers that Ashe's parents died due to sickness. He remembers hearing about the sickness in a few Faerghus towns, with a lack of knowledge about treating it as quickly as Duscis towns did. What was a simple few weeks where few people got sick and died in Duscur was a disaster for Faerghus. The fallout afterwards was worse, as even in Duscur, long-lasting symptoms appeared to claim a few more lives before finally disappearing for good.

Dedue wants to break his silence and ask how they are going to protect the citizens from disease, but as he spots Ingrid stabbing her food out of the corner of his eye, he chooses not to, picking up another forkful.

Cibor is somehow filling the blade of his dagger with healing magic, and the iron blades glow with its faint light. Dedue watches in fear and respect as the magical energy crackles around the blade, sparking with life and potential. Bryn is chuckling as they take a seat next to him. "Kinda terrifying, isn't it?"

He hums. "Slightly. Isn't everything?"

"Yeah, but isn't that the fun of it all?" Bryn asks, casually holding a fireball. Dedue takes in their appearance, from the short flat twist that somewhat parts their afro at the temple to the sturdy clothes that used to help handle high temperatures and roaring flames. They had lost some weight, probably out of stress, but they were still able to fit their clothes, still able to joke about having a bit of a belly "at their old age". Their smile still glows like a campfire as they jokingly seem to lack care about the dangers of fire, but their eyes were a pyre that say otherwise and respects the strength of the bright red, orange, and yellow flames.

Dedue quickly fashions a mini pit for Bryn to throw the fire into. "We can call it fun if we want to," he guesses, backing up a tiny bit.

"What are we calling fun?" Rius asks as he takes a seat besides Bryn. Bryn tosses in the fireball and lights the pit the flames strong enough to warm up the cooling air, but small enough to not pour out of the ground.

"Everything that's dangerous, amor," Bryn says, giving Rius a quick peck on the cheek. "Which could just mean everything is fun."

Rius frowns as the three look out to see Cibor and Mihail excitedly talking to each other with a small storm of lightning, wind, and other magic forming in between them. "Right," he mutters, his grip on his staff tightening.

Dedue glances at the now 20-year old, concern boiling through him like a geyser. He watches as Bryn places their hand over their boyfriend's, whispering in his ear for a few moments before gently taking the staff out of his hand and putting it over their laps, the new iron engraving in the wood reflecting the flickering light of the campfire.

As the two cousins continue to control their magic together in the background, Dedue stares at the couple, wondering if he should ask the questions that he wants to ask.

He accidentally makes eye contact with Bryn, and there's a flare in their eyes that causes him to look away in embarrassment. "I- I uh-" he stammers.

Bryn shakes their head. "It's alright, tellulus," they say, and Rius nods his head in agreement. "It's just that time of year-"

It feels like all the signs finally put themselves together as Dedue realizes what the day is. "Oh. I'm so-"

"Please don't think you have to apologize for my sake, Dedue," Rius remarks. "I'm just out of it for a bit." The Dagdan-Duscis man gives his partner a peck on the cheek before standing up, leaving the staff still there. "I should just go get some sleep. Maybe I'll feel better when I wake up."

Dedue watches as Rius walks away, heading back towards their room. "Should we be concerned for him?" he asks.

"I'll check up on him later," Bryn promises, eyes somewhat sad as they turn back towards the fire. The claw of their prothesium was still curled around Rius' staff. "It's just been a lot, you know? 5 years ago we were planning out a surprise party for him, and now"-they sigh, shaking their head-"well, it isn't the best conditions for him."

"Oh," Dedue utters, feeling the tunnels of Abyss suddenly feel like they're suffocating him, even though being surrounded by the earth is a general comfort for him. "How do you feel?"

"Eh, I could be better," Bryn admits with a sigh. "After we lost you and Mihail in the Murder, it was pretty rough. We didn't really know what to do for a couple years until Mihail managed to reach us. But don't worry about us, you have a prince practically breathing down your neck."

"I can still be concerned," Dedue argues.

Bryn chuckles. "I know. It's just"-Bryn stares at the fire for a while, contemplating-"We're all kind of antsy down here, wondering what you and Mihail are getting up to. You're nearly the second youngest, and practically everyone falls for Mihail's charisma." There's a softness in the smile that they give Dedue, something familiar from their childhood that carries a lot of weight. "If there's ever any way for us to be able to get out,stretch our legs, and help you two, we'd all take it in a heartbeat."

Oh. "I'll be sure to remember that," Dedue says, rolling his shoulders in the awkward air after he talks. "Um," he starts, "can I-"

Bryn interrupts him with a hug. "Duscis causa, tellulus," they whisper, a smile creeping into their voice as they again use their nickname for him, "I see that the years didn't change your little penchant for acting slowly." They sit there for a minute or two, the two of them whispering about more positive events in their lives to help pull him away from the main inciting event. (For Duscur's sake, little earth-)

Before Dedue goes to leave, he stops by the Duscis' room to quickly check on Rius. The older man is in a familiar position, sound asleep with a book on his face like he was in the middle of reading it. Dedue smiles as he checks to make sure the pages won't get ruined keeping the book open and putting it on the man's chest. Adrista waves at him as he and Mihail leave, and he takes a moment to pointedly look back at the sleeping man. She follows his line of sight with a quick glance before nodding, and Dedue feels comfortable enough to leave Abyss now that at least two people will have an eye on Rius.

When he's focusing on the changes in the monastery, Dedue can't help but notice how the Golden Deer have practically adopted Mihail. It seems like every time he sees his little pseudo brother, he's either being dragged to the library, politely providing company in the cathedral, busy answering questions about Duscis art, or training with the various members of the third house.

Now, the dark mage is sandwiched in between Claude and Lorenz as they seem to be in a dramatic argument. Dedue doesn't care to attempt to make out the words or the arguments, but Lorenz sounds appalled and Claude sounds smug, so it must be business as usual. Mihail makes eye contact with Dedue as the two ask him a question and from the twitch of his lips, Dedue can tell that he's trying not to laugh when he answers with a voice like a dry wind.

Dedue looks away just in time to see a small spirit fly into its bush. Claude and Lorenz both sound shocked as they respond, voices louder and more passionate, sweeping Mihail into the debate. Dedue rolls his eyes at the three's antics and walks into the Blue Lions classroom to see if he's missing any studies that Byleth had assigned earlier.

One day, as they're fighting some bandits that have hidden in the ruins, Dedue notices the difference in between how certain members of the house fight around him. Annette and Mercedes are comfortable with running past him in order to cast their spells, and Annette even cheers him on every now and then as when engages against an enemy. Ashe takes care to make sure that Dedue was out of the way before he fired an arrow, and Sylvain sometimes leads his horse across the entire battlefield to help support him if a larger group tries to ambush him.

In comparison, Felix keeps his distance from him, which by itself isn't too strange, as Byleth usually has them both push two different fronts at the same time. But it's when Mihail goes to heal him and Felix practically snaps at him that the strength of his hatred really shows through. Byleth gets in between the two of them and Mihail backs off, walking back towards his own battalion, and Dedue finds himself distracted with worry until they can meet up on the battlefield and check in with each other. Whenever he has to work with Ingrid, the blonde heiress erratically flies in front of him and throws javelins at their enemies even if Dedue isn't fully out of the way, making combat much more difficult. Dimitri just seems more and more vacant with each passing day, still a dangerous force on the field, but less responsive when his name was called, only instantly reacting whenever he or Byleth shouts for him now.

It's worrying that it seems like the entire Blue Lions House is ignoring the tremors of visible tension that's shaking the foundations that they all stand on. Dedue sighs at the end of the battle, when Ashe's arrow catches a vagabond off guard, and makes the decision to talk to Dimitri as soon as he can.

"As soon as he can" happens to be as he's leaving the sauna, still wearing the academy lounge wear and sighing at the shift from warm and humid air to the simple breeze of the night. Dimitri is still dressed in his student uniform, and all of the years that Dedue has spent near the prince's side forces his eyes to follow the trim of silver down to the sword sheathed on the prince's left side, noticing how Dimitri's hand rests on the pommel of it. "Dedue," Dimitri says, voice even and polite, "can we talk?"

"Of course, Dimitri." That's a comfortable term for now. Sure, it avoids the power that Dimitri has over him, but the fact that Dimitri is carrying a sword and he isn't is hopefully enough for that right now. Besides, there's power in forcefully reminding Dimitri of his position and Dedue does not want to deal with the moodiness that would follow after that.

"There- er"-The prince rubs the back of his head as he pulls out a small bag-"There was some gold found to be left over in the budget recently, and I thought about our past conversation on reparations."

Dedue relaxes a hair, mostly out of surprise that Dimitri remembers the conversation. "Oh?"

"Yes. So I asked for the difference," Dimitri announces, holding out the bag, and Dedue can hear the sound of gold coins rattling against each other. "To Duscur."

"Thank you," Dedue says, reaching out and carefully grabbing the gold. When he has it in his hands, he notices that the bag is a lot lighter than the bag that the Archbishop awarded him last moon. He opens it, seeing noticeably less coins in the canvas pouch than last moon's bag. "If you do not mind me asking," he starts, carefully, "how much gold is this?"

"It should be close to 100 gold," Dimitri answers. "I would have given more, but Kleiman tells me that it should be more than enough to help rebuild one of the major villages."

100 gold. Kleiman. Enough to rebuild one village. Dedue sighs as he closes the bag, counting the amount of stones he can feel underneath his feet as a distraction from his anger. "Thank you, Dimitri," he says, voice as steady as a marble pillar. "This is a good start to rebuilding Duscur."

Dimitri freezes. "Start?"

"This is barely enough gold to run one of Duscur's smaller towns in a moon, even when it's completely pristine," Dedue explains, praying that Dimitri truly didn't believe that you could rebuild an entire country off of 2 Virgils. "Rebuilding and housing people, cost of food and water, labor- All of that costs time and compensation."

The blond nods. "Of course," he contends. "But I just thought that Duscur would be able to handle all of those costs."

Dedue looks at the prince for a long while, wondering if this is all one big ploy, and that Dimitri is joking. From the sincerity on the prince's face, it doesn't seem likely. "Dimitri. Duscur was put to the torch. Surely Mihail has told you that there is almost nothing left?"

"But the people who caused the Tragedy should pay for the brunt of Duscur's damages," the prince claims. "They are the cause of this mess."

Dedue feel himself balancing is on the edge of a canyon at this moment, wondering if he should openly talk about how Faerghus chose to revolt and murder a country without any warning or discussion. At this point, he's tired of hearing about the King's Tragedy, the one that gets mislabeled as the Tragedy of Duscur so that the actual tragedy in Duscur can go unspoken. But he has to dance around it. "As a friend," he starts, voice still holding itself steady, "I would wonder if my actions come at your expense."

Dimitri looks confused. "What?"

"Yes, Duscur was not involved in the Tragedy. Yes, someone else is the cause of the king's death," Dedue admits, speaking softly and slowly now to make sure Dimitri hears him. "But those people are not responsible for the Kingdom's actions."

"But they killed my father," Dimitri says. "We should focus on finding them."

"Dimitri, Duscur had nothing to do with your father's death besides the side by side deaths of our ambassadors and Mihail's later disappearance," Dedue says. He takes in the prince's demeanor, which borders on tense and scared. "I am not sure if Duscur can even attempt to help you find the culprits right now with the state it's in."

There's a long silence as Dedue's words seem to stick in the air. Dedue hopes that they've at least sunk into the floor when the prince simply excuses himself and walks away, his near perfect footsteps going towards the Academy courtyard. The bag of gold in his hand feels heavier as the blacksmith's son wonders what exactly he's done.

Early one morning, Dedue finds himself waking up before the sun, and when it does, he heads to Mihail's room to see if the other wants train before breakfast. After some time, they make their way to the training grounds, quickly changing out of their sleepwear before setting up to spar. The two take advantage of the lack of eyes on them to fight in a more Duscis style, unarmed, with Dedue in his brawler's kit and Mihail in his own light clothing. When they start the honestum, it's nothing but constant motion, even when no strikes are thrown. Dedue keeps his guard up as the two of them moving side to side in a rhythmic beat. When he spots Mihail's balance shifts, he reacts, blocking a strong kick to his head, retaliating with a quick jab that Mihail avoids by cartwheeling out of the unstable stance his attack left him in. Dedue moves quickly, attempting to press the advantage, sweeping Mihail's legs out from under him with a low kick and calmly pulling the mage's arm behind his back. "Cedesne?" (Do you yield?)

Mihail tries to break free, grunting as Dedue simply holds him still despite his effort. "Cedo. Vicit." (I yield. You won.)

Dedue lets him go, and they both get up, stretching to keep their muscles loose and ready for another bout. Just as they start again, they hear the footsteps of Byleth's boots as the teacher enters the training grounds. Dedue puts their entrance into the back of his mind as he tries to sweep Mihail's legs again. Mihail jumps over his kick, landing and delivering a punch that lands in Dedue's gut. It winds him for a second, and that's just long enough for Mihail to deliver a strong kick to his side that knocks Dedue off center. Soon, Mihail is asking Dedue to yield, and the two get back up again, bodies sore and aching. Thankfully, Mihail starts healing the both of them without even asking, gentle morning breezes entering the training grounds working to soothe away any pains.

Dedue spots the blue-haired mercenary currently walking towards them as the two of them are taking their break and nods. "Good morning, Professor."

"Morning, Dedue," Byleth says, nodding. Dedue catches the small, barely noticeable pause that Byleth takes before also nodding at the shorter Duscis. "Morning, Mihail. Care if we all spar with brawling and magic?"

Mihail shrugs his shoulders. "I am fine if Dedue is."

Dedue simply nods, settling back into a stance that better fits what he learned in the Officer's Academy. Mihail steps back from the two, holding his arms up to prepare for casting spells. Byleth readies themselves for a brief moment before they launch a small bead of fire at Dedue, forcing him to roll to avoid it. In retaliation, he places a hand on the ground focusing on a circle of ground around Byleth, attempting to pull it directly upwards in a pillar to disrupt them. The mercenary rolls off of the pillar as it starts to shift upwards, staying firmly on the ground and using the pillar as a shield from Mihail, who fires a bolt of lightning that's noticeably weaker than his cousin's. With a disappointed grunt, Dedue forces the pillar back down into the ground and runs forward, directly engaging Byleth with a strong haymaker and following it up with a left hook.

As Dedue backs up, he catches Mihail's eye, and the shorter Duscis pointedly casts another lightning bolt at the professor. Dedue nods, ducking under Byleth's first punch and letting the second graze against his chest before he grabs their wrist, smirking as he quickly pirouettes, forcing the professor to hold their arm behind their back or risk twisting it. As Byleth struggles against the hold, Dedue notices Mihail dash around the two of them, hand crackling with lightning.

Byleth sighs. "Nice communication," they say with a nod. "I yield." The spell fizzes out and Dedue lets go, allowing the professor to roll out their shoulder. "Good job," they praise, voice still lacking in emotion. "Nice fighting."

"Thank you," the two Duscis say at the same time, glancing at each other in surprise. As the two start to leave, Dedue's stomach growls, and as he's realizing how hungry the early action has made him, he can hear Mihail chuckling softly at his side.

So when Mihail's stomach growls as they join the line in the dining hall, Dedue allows a small smirk to plant itself on his face as he chuckles too.

Annette sits with the two of them that breakfast with a wave and smile as she starts to tuck into her breakfast. There's polite chatter between the three of them, mostly about food and magic, before Mihail is whisked away by Lysithea and Lorenz, leaving Annette and Dedue alone.

The seat he was in is barely cold before Gilbert walks into the dining hall and takes a seat next to Annette. Annette looks surprised at the knight's actions. "What's wrong Father?" she asks, and Dedue nearly chokes on his food as he remembers his thoughts from months ago. "I didn't expect you to come visit me."

Gilbert looks awkward in the seat, nervous and afraid. He reaches into a small bag at his side and pulls out a small wooden doll. "I carved this on a whim," he explains, holding it out above the table. "I wish for you to take it, Annette."

Annette lets out a tiny squeal as she takes the doll and looks at it, studying it for a while. Dedue is silent as he tries to take in the details of the statue. It's decently made, from a well-grown oak. "A wooden doll?" Annette babbles. "You used to make these for me all the time when I was a child."

Gilbert sighs. "I still do it," The knight mentions, slightly faltering under his daughter's curious glance. "When the mood strikes."

"It's so cute!" Annette says, putting it down on the table. "It's-" She cuts herself off, her eyes slowly darkening from their previous joyousness. She glances at Dedue before she stares at Gilbert, and Dedue can tell she's nervous. "Wait. No. What do you want from me?"

Gilbert sits there for a while. "I want nothing," he says, and Dedue does not like that answer at all, since the man was lying. "I was carving and I thought of you. I'm glad that the Goddess has answered my prayers to see you again."

"I'm glad to see you too," Annette says, looking back at the statue. "Are you going to send a letter to Mother to wish her well? She'd love to hear from you."

The man looks down at the table. "I cannot. I still must atone for my sins."

Dedue should not cut into this. This is not his time. But the situation is too sad-

"What sins are you atoning for?" he inquires, opening up the conversation into a dangerous crevice.

"I was unable to protect the king," Gilbert says, as if it makes the most sense. "That is the ultimate failure. One that I must atone for."

"You weren't even there," Annette says, and her voice is heavier than it usually is. It sounds wrong. "You were just about to come back home before you disappeared."

"My happiness would do nothing to atone for the dead," Gilbert argues, still not looking up from the table. "My arrival here in the monastery and my prayers are the only way to help the poor souls-"

Dedue catches onto the issue and chooses to cut it off at the head. "Your prayers are mere self-indulgence without the proper apologies."

Gilbert looks up, and there's a slight twinge of irritation on his forehead. "You do not understand."

"No, I do not fully understand your beliefs," Dedue admits. "But I do know that Faerghus needed you. His Highness needed you. Your wife needed you-"

"I needed you," Annette whispers, still looking at the statue.

Gilbert seems torn at who to talk to, looking back and forth between his daughter and Dedue. He makes eye contact with Dedue. "There was no other choice but for me to leave," he argues. " What would you do if His Highness had died due to your failures?"

Dedue almost wants to toss the man on the ground the same way he did Felix. "I would live," he answers confidently. "Live for my home, my family, my friends, and my life. Honor their memories by still living and walking."

Gilbert is quiet. Dedue thinks of all he's heard about the man. How he excels in bravery and wisdom and tactics, and how he was the ideal in chivalry and behavior. They seemed like glowing reviews when he was 14 and Dimitri was gushing about the man, but now?

"I am simply lost and irredeemable right now," Gilbert says, standing up and nodding at Dedue. "My happiness isn't something that should exist." He turns to face Annette, who barely looks up to glance at her father. "If you don't need the statue, you can throw it away. It is all the same in the end."

Now Dedue wonders how much of Faerghus culture is actually true. If this heroic knight that apparently is the best of Faerghus' ideals seems to have no hesitations about abandoning his family, what else is fabricated beyond validation?

The knight walks away, and Dedue waits a few moments before reaching out and patting Annette's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Annette lets out a quiet sniffle. "He's probably right," she says instead of answering his question. "It would be better to throw this doll away."

"If you don't mind me asking, do you want to throw it away?" Dedue asks softly.

There is a weak smile on Annette's face. "I don't think I could ever throw it away," she admits as she puts it in her bag. "Should we go to class?"

Dedue puts a small smile on his face, thinking about the small orange flower that has been slightly wilting ever since it was planted. "As long as you promise to help me with any questions in Reason."

Annette giggles. "I will! I've been wanting to sit next to you for a while, you have really neat handwriting."

"Thank you," Dedue says, simply picking up his things and walking with Annette to the Blue Lions classroom.

"You know, Dedue," Byleth starts as they're both taking a break from sparring during class, standing on the sidelines of the training grounds. Dedue nods to show that he's listening, but he doesn't look away from where Sylvain and Felix engaging with Dimitri. "You don't spar like you did with Mihail that morning."

He hums, noncommittally agreeing with the professor's statement. "Should I be?"

"It seems like you're more comfortable with it than what you've learned here in the Academy," they note. Felix blocks a swing from Dimitri and Sylvain taps the prince's thigh with his lance. "Your strikes are faster, and the different options you have seem to favor you well."

"Thank you," Dedue says with a nod. "But I don't want to shake the ground too much."

Ingrid enters the training hall right before Byleth can ask him what he meant by that. He hears them let out a soft, "Oh," before a few more quiet moments. "Well, try it today," they say out of the blue, "I can make sure that no one will bother you for it."

Dedue turns to face Byleth, looking at their contemplative face to see if there's any ill intent. "Thank you," he says when he doesn't read anything from those blue eyes. "Should I spar now?"

"Do you want to spar against Ingrid or Sylvain?"

"Sylvain," Dedue answers immediately. He's spent a week avoiding Ingrid and he would love to keep that up.

Byleth nods before calling off the spar in progress. It takes a few moments, but soon Felix and Ashe, Dimitri and Ingrid, and Dedue and Sylvain are all in the right positions, and with a whistle, the new spars begin.

Dedue sees Sylvain twirl his lance before using that momentum to thrust it out at him, sidestepping the attack and falling into the rocking rhythm of honestum. Sylvain's confusion leaves him open enough for Dedue to land two quick strikes before the third is blocked by the shaft of the lance. Dedue makes eye contact with the redhead, who's staring at him. "So," Sylvain mutters, eyes focused, "this is new."

Dedue subtly shifts his weight, keeping his left forearm against the lance. "It is."

"Have any more tricks?" Sylvain asks with a smirk, starting to pull back his lance. Dedue feels the smile creep onto his face just before he twists his body, building up and releasing enough tension to deliver a spinning kick to the older student's chest. Sylvain grunts as he backed up, one hand coming up to rub his sternum.

Dedue steps back, returning to his flow. "A few more," he quips, watching as Sylvain's eyes track him, and there's a smirk as the noble realizes the inherent rhythmic purpose of each step.

"Nice," Sylvain says, stepping forward and attacking with a long sweeping arc. Dedue takes the blow directly below the blade and steps forward, moving fully past the tip of the lance and placing himself right in front of the redhead, where he gets in a few light taps before Sylvain uses the butt of the lance to drive him back. Dedue quickly fashions another makeshift chest plate out of stone before focusing on the tip of the lance, and as soon as it begins to arc towards his right, he changes the rhythm, adding an extra step in the three step cycle to both throw Sylvain off and allow himself to squat under the attack. As Sylvain is forced to follow through thanks to his own momentum, Dedue stands up and attacks with a light uppercut and jab to the shoulder, barely stepping on his back foot before launching forward, landing two more punches before disengaging and gliding back into his rhythm.

Sylvain backs up, rotating his shoulder, and seeming to take stock of himself for a few moments. He steps back into the fight with what looks like a jab, and as Dedue naturally moves to sidestep it, he watches as the lance actually pulls to the left. Causa Telli-

The lance finds purchase in his gut. It doesn't wind him, but with the small whoop he hears from Sylvain, he knows that the tempo of this fight just changed. But that's fine. If Sylvain wants to change things up, maybe he could do the same.

Dedue mentally reaches into the stone beneath them as he lunges forward with a punch, flicking his offhand up to create a tiny wall behind the redhead, who ducks under Dedue's fist and stumbles as he tries to back up so he can retaliate, not expecting the ground around him to shift. Dedue takes the opportunity to push forward, kicking Sylvain twice. The noble retaliates, and Dedue backs up to give himself breathing room before Sylvain suddenly dashes forward, practically throwing his lance at Dedue. Dedue avoids the blade catches the lance with one hand before he feels an untrained punch land on his chest, along with a yelp of pain.

"How do you feel like a wall?" Sylvain hisses as he shakes his hand out.

Feeling that the spar is over, Dedue steps out of his battle stance. "You don't know how to throw a punch," he tells the redhead.

Sylvain rolls his eyes as he walks over to his nearby bag, pulling out a vulnerary. "What gave it away, my injury?"

"I've never seen you in a brawling lesson," Dedue responds, voice dry. "Word of caution: your thumb goes on the outside of your fist."

"I'll remember that for when it comes in handy," Sylvain jokes, taking the healing potion as the two of them look across the training yard. "Huh, I guess the professor decided that Dimitri needed even more of a challenge."

Dedue watches as Ashe, Annette, and Mihail continue to battle against Dimitri and Mercedes. Ashe and Annette are the main attackers for the younger group, and Mihail seems to be supporting them well, sending small beads of dark magic in between heals to try and disrupt the opposing duo. Mercedes switches between attacking and supporting, calmly stepping out of the way of Ashe's arrows whenever they fly her way. Annette is trying her hardest to blow Dimitri away, and if it weren't for the blond's strength and the tip of the lance burying itself into the stone every now and then, she probably would have succeeded long ago. Ashe is a master at taking opportunities, landing training arrows by launching them in directions that the duo dodge to instead of where they're standing. Dimitri is still quite powerful, and his lance practically flashes in between all three opponents whenever he strikes. When Mercedes attacks, she seems to be capable enough to place her spells in the right spot so that even if they don't hit, they blind or distract Ashe enough to make his arrows a little bit more unreliable as the magic of his teammates barely affects her.

"That is a rather violent training bout," Dedue says, watching as it slowly starts to become a standstill, everyone running out of endurance.

"I don't think we get to talk about violent sparring anymore," Sylvain jokes. "Not after you tried to take my ankles out with the ground. How do you do that? What's the arcane math behind it?"

Dedue looks at the redhead who's looking back at him with a curious expression. "It's not arcane," he says softly, after thinking about it for some time. "The best way to describe it is divine."

"Oh," Sylvain whispers, shoulders slumping, "it's a Duscur thing."

Dedue pats him on the shoulder. "Sorry about that." He's not sorry at all. "You did a good job when you tricked me with that swing."

"Tried my best. It was nothing," Sylvain says, although the way he lights up as he speaks lets Dedue know he's lying about it being nothing, genuinely glad to be receiving a compliment.

Their conversation is interrupted when Ashe runs up to them, bow still in hand. "Hey! The professor just told us we could break for lunch and a good portion of the house is going to eat with each other, want to join us?"

Sylvain has a smug grin on his face as he nods, and Dedue rolls his eyes at how quickly the noble seems to fall back into his persona. "I would love to," he tells Ashe, reaching down and picking up his own bag. "Let's meet in front of the dining hall in a few minutes."

It feels like Dedue has barely closed his door and tended to his personal batch of ginger plants as they rested in the flowerpot before there's an insistent knocking upon the wood. He sighs, thanks Terra that he didn't start changing out of his uniform for the day, and goes to open up the door and see what Sylvain (the red flower was slightly droopy today), Ashe (the silver and brown flower had an air of anger around it), or Annette (the orange flower had somehow propagated a sad little clone of itself) need to talk to about.

He blinks at the sight of the entire of the Black Eagle house in front of him. Even Bernadetta is there, hiding behind Dorothea. He quickly looks over the group just to make sure he's not mistaken about what his eyes are showing him before he nods to greet them. "Hello"

Edelgard steps forward, nodding back. "Greetings. We want to talk to you. Mind if we come in?"

Dedue takes a moment to look at the future emperor. She seems serious, focused, prepared for almost any answer he could give. When he scans the rest of the group, trying to read the ground that they stand on, most, if not all of them seem somewhat nervous, but actively involved, if the tremors from Bernadetta's shaking and the absolute stillness from Linhardt somehow asleep by the wall mean anything.

Dedue steps back and opens his door fully, allowing free passage into his room. "I do not mind," he states. "Please, come in. If anyone wants some tea, I have a ginger root freshly cut."

The house pours into the room, and Dedue keeps an eye on all of them as they head to different places. Linhardt wakes themselves up just to get into his bed and fall asleep again, with Caspar and Petra on either side of them. Bernadetta is directly next to the door just in case she wants to flee. Edelgard and Dorothea take the chairs, with Hubert and Ferdinand standing behind them. Ferdinand has an ornate teacup that certainly is not Dedue's in his hand, and is already pouring some of the ginger root tea into it. Dedue sighs, walks to the middle of his room, and takes a seat on the floor, still able to view everyone quite easily. "So," he begins, looking at the white-haired house leader, "what is this visit about?"

Edelgard leans forward in her chair with the grace of an emperor on their throne. "Hubert and I have been discussing some ideas for the Empire when I take my place at its head," she says, "and we as a house have a few questions we want to ask you outside of any prying ears."

Dedue nods. "What kind of questions are these?"

"Questions that you will be able to refuse if you want to," Edelgard answers calmly. "I have some things in my own past that I do not like to dwell on, so if you wish not to answer a question, simply say so and we will move on." She aims the last part of her sentence at her fellow housemates. "Of course, I assume you will have some questions for us to answer as well."

Dedue holds back a chuckle. There are so many questions he has to ask about the empire and this meeting that he could probably continue until solis et luna stopped chasing each other. "Of course," he asserts. "How do you feel about trading a question for a question?"

"And if one refuses?" Hubert asks, visible eye staring directly at him

There's a small hum of nerves under his skin as the pleasantries start to draw themselves out. "We can figure that out if it happens," he decides, starting to get impatient. "Please, ask your first question."

Edelgard nods, keeping eye contact with him as she speaks. "How would you describe your connection to Dimitri?"

Dedue looks down for a few moments, calmly feeling to see if there were any odd signs in the hallway around his room. "It is complicated," he answers when he could find none, now somewhat confident that this wasn't a scheme by Edelgard for whatever reasons she may have. However-"I do not believe it is wise for me to go into further detail, but know that I carry no animosity towards His Highness." It's not necessarily a lie, as Dedue doesn't hate Dimitri, but Dimitri is starting to become more and more of a self-unaware hindrance. "Why did you all feel it was necessary to try and have a conversation this way?"

"Uh, because we all saw what happened during that feast?" Caspar says, as if it makes perfect sense. "We don't want to make tensions worse between you guys, but we really don't like how some people seem to get away with that much."

"It is ridiculous how those two acted, utterly ridiculous," Ferdinand gripes as he finishes pouring out some tea. "They truly do not understand how to act like knights nor nobles, do they?"

Dedue isn't sure if that counts as the house's question, but by the indignant eyebrow raised on Hubert's face and the resigned sigh of Edelgard, he takes it to be. He takes a few moments to think about if he actually wants to respond to this question, one that moves away from politics and towards the underlying structures of the Blue Lions. "I wouldn't know how Faerghus thinks about knighthood and chivalry," he says. A clear lie. A refusal to answer. "But if you asked me something else," he indicates, "maybe I would know that."

"Thank you," Hubert says, pushing up Ferdinand's arm so that the redhead starts sipping more tea. "How likely would you be to switch houses?"

That's a fissure of a question. Everyone was aware that they could change houses, but no one has actually done it yet, worried about whatever implications that could mean about the teachers and students in their former house, and how that could play out politically over the continent. Honestly, Dedue could not see himself leaving the Blue Lions at all, but in thinking about it now, he changes his reasons why. Earlier, he would've stayed due to feeling himself indebted to Dimitri and to help Mihail advocate for Duscur. Now, there's less of that debt, but more of the want to keep an eye on Mihail, Ashe, Annette, and Sylvain and make sure that they are all fine and able to deal with the worst of Faerghus and Fodlan culture. "It would depend on the circumstances," he answers honestly, aware enough of himself to know that in the right circumstances to know that if he really needed to, he would definitely talk to Mihail and head into another house if he had to, or is Mihail asks him to for their safety. "Why are you asking?"

"Edelgard wanted to talk with you about Duscur and Empire alliances," Petra says, laying down on her stomach at the foot of the bed. "I can not say that she will be aware of every issue that Duscur may have with the idea, but currently, she and I have done good work for both of our nations."

Dedue hums, nodding at the princess. She nods back. Dorothea clears her throat and Dedue looks at her as she asks her question. "Are you being blackmailed?"

"No," Dedue says, shaking his head. Blackmail may be the wrong word to use, but Dedue is still going to try not to reveal too much about the house dynamics. "If you're going to try and rebuild ties with Duscur, why aren't you talking to Mihail?" he asks. "He's technically the ambassador now, since no one else has taken up the mantle."

"Claude and the Golden Deer seem to take up a lot of his time," Edelgard says. "Besides, I don't want to make him feel pressured at the thought of being in serious conversations with all three house leaders."

"Thank you," Dedue says, glad that someone else has done something for the younger Duscis.

Edelgard shifts in her chair. "It's nothing to thank me for, truly," she seems to plead. How is Mihail doing?"

"He's alright. Between myself and the Golden Deer, it seems like any issue he has can be solved," Dedue claims, recalling the time when the eccentric house passed a message around the entirety of the dining hall just to pass back a glass of water. "Now," Dedue begins, leaning forward and steepling his fingers, "why did you choose to talk to me?"

"You- you're nice!" Bernadetta manages to squeak out before going mute again.

Edelgard has a soft smile on her face that is reflected by other house members, with even Hubert's lip somewhat curled. "What she means to say is we truly find it disturbing how the house seems to find it acceptable that you and Mihail are treated. Granted, it took us a while to learn the same lesson-"

Petra and Dorothea look at each other and smirk. Dedue wonders what happened behind closed doors in order to come to this situation.

"-but in thinking about what it would mean to rebuild the Empire, I think it makes sense to get an outside perspective of Fodlan," Edelgard finishes, before taking a deep breath. "How does the political system work in Duscur?"

Oh. That's interesting question that no one's asked him or Mihail. "It's simple," he starts, "Each area, town, or city has their own leader who helps keep things running in that place. Every few moons, each leader meets with the other leaders in their region: North, Central, Coastal, and Southern. Every 4th meeting that they have together, one of those leaders all meet up in Genus to touch bases and set the standards that our constitution allows them to set, which is mostly trading agreements and small country-wide budget points." Dedue runs through the basics pretty easily, watching as Hubert takes notes. "Why is this so important to you?"

"Because I want to make sure that the people are properly represented," Edelgard says. "And sometimes, following what my family before have done isn't the answer. How are the leaders chosen?"

"Voting," Dedue answers quickly. "But they can be removed at any time with a majority. And before you ask, yes, it has happened and no, no one regrets removing them from their position of power."

Dorothea looks interested. Ferdinand looks pleased. Linhardt looks like they're just waking up again.

Dedue finds that he has a few more questions to ask, but they're more personal in nature. He sees Bernadetta creeping out of the room out of the corner of his eye and waits until the door closes behind her and he can feel her footsteps as she runs away before he asks his next question. "Is everything okay with Bernadetta's home life?" he asks in a quieter voice, not because he fears anyone outside of his room hearing the conversation, but because it feels strange to ask. "Forgive me for prying, but she reminds me a lot of an old friend who dealt with a lot."

The entire house shares a look before Hubert answers the question. "The people responsible for Bernadetta's demeanor will be dealt with shortly," he says, and Dedue nods, not quite sure how that may manifest. Hubert von Vestra is at least three untrustworthy people.

Dorothea raises her hand jokingly before talking. "What's the reason that some of the leaders get removed?"

"They break a Duscis rule," Dedue affirms. "In Duscur, we try to think of how our actions impact everyone, and so we look out for each other, help a person when we can, and remove those who may use or have used their power to harm others. The old friend I was talking about was being mistreated by a leader in his area, so the leader was removed and my friend traveled to my village right outside of Silvae. How are you feeling, Edelgard?"

If the white-haired girl is thrown by the shift in conversation, she doesn't show it. "I am quite well," she says with a smile, "thank you for asking. Do you have any more questions?"

He does. But these are questions that may have answers he doesn't want others to hear or answers that don't want to divulge themselves. So he says, "No. Thank you for the lovely conversation."

The Black Eagles slowly get out of their spots, standing up and quietly making their way over to the door as they each say their own thanks and welcomes. Ferdinand asks him about his tea recipes and Dorothea pulls him out of the room before Dedue can answer. In nearly the blink of an eye, his room is empty again, and Dedue is left alone to wonder what purpose the well-oiled machine of the Black Eagles would have to be his guests for a few minutes.

In the middle of the second week, Dedue walks into the kitchen to begin his scheduled dinner duty. As he's washing up and tying an apron around his waist, he hears someone call his name and turns around to see Seteth and the head chef standing next to each other. "Dedue," Seteth starts, looking nervous, "you can cook, right?"

"I would consider myself proficient," he says, wondering why the man is acting like this.

Seteth sighs. "Good. How do you feel about cooking a greater portion of the dinner today instead of only prepping?"

On a closer look, the head chef looks slightly paler than normal, and Dedue flinches as the man passes out, falling into Seteth's arms. "Devian is not feeling too well, he apparently has an allergy that pops up near the winter months," Seteth casually explains, as if he's not holding up an entire man. "The kitchen will be working at a slightly diminished capacity, and I just wanted to ask you if you would help shoulder a bit more of the load."

"Of course," Dedue says, still concerned for Devian's health. "Is there a certain item I should be cooking?"

"Feel free to make whatever you can," Seteth says with a nod as he picks Devian up, placing the cook over his shoulder. "I would personally go for something simple that you can make a large amount of, as I believe the evening will need a few sizable platters."

Dedue starts thinking about what to make, looking at the inventory list and making a note of what he needs to get from his room. "I will be sure to do so. Will you be able to help me?"

"I will try to come back and at least help you get started after I find Devian properly acquainted with a bed in the infirmary," Seteth says, starting to walk away from the area. "The other chefs know that you are not to be bothered, but if any of them do bother you, let me know when I return."

Dedue nods at the man as he leaves, finally putting a plan together. He looks out into the dining hall to see Raphael eating his "post-lunch, pre-dinner, pre-dessert snack" and knocks against the counter to get the beefy man's attention. The blond brawler looks up, brightens, stands up, and calmly jogs over to the counter. "Hey dude," Raphael greets, voice loud, "you have cooking duty today?"

"I do," Dedue answers, pulling out a cutting board. ""How do you feel about hearty sandwiches?"

Raphael practically lights up. "I love them! I never even thought about having them for dinner."

"Would you mind running to my room and grabbing a few bulbs off of the plants in the corner?" Dedue asks, grabbing a few loaves of bread. "That would be a great help."

"As long as you save some for me and Iggy!" Raphael practically booms, before leaning over the counter, jokingly whispering, "And add a little extra meat to one of those sandwiches for me," before bounding out of the hall, hopefully on his way to Dedue's room.

Dedue shakes his head and chuckles as he starts cutting slices out of the loaves, taking the time and care to make sure that they were even. He gets through two loaves before a small "Excuse me!" has him look up at Monica as she casually leans onto the counter. "Do you know where Mihail is?" the older student asks. "I want to ask him something."

He finishes the slice he's working on before he answers her. "No, but he's probably either in the library or with Claude and Lorenz somewhere."

Monica laughs. "Man, they sure are around each other a lot, huh?"

"You could say that," Dedue says, grabbing the third loaf. "But you are usually with Edelgard and Hubert."

"Yeah," she says with a nervous laugh, "I guess so. Thanks for trying to help me!"

"You're wel"-Dedue watches as she skips away-"welcome." He turns back around and continues prepping the food. Soon, Seteth returns, and Dedue instructs the man to get him some meats and cheeses as he finishes organizing his slices of bread into neat piles for later assembly.

As Seteth is gone trying to procure the ingredients, Raphael comes back with the bulbs of ginger, turmeric, cardamom, and paprika. Raphael nods at him as Dedue puts them off to the side, and Dedue nods back, already planning to make a few sandwiches with thicker cuts of meat to honor their unofficial deal. Raphael leaves and Seteth returns with 2 blocks of cheese and a diverse cut of meats.

Seteth sighs as he puts the heavy basket down on the counter near the stove. "Is this enough for you to work with?"

Dedue looks over it all. Most of the meats were already cured, while he would have to make sure that the others were cooked enough to not only be safe to eat, but to make sure the flavor was potent. "This is fine," he concludes. "Thank you, Seteth."

"I'm glad to be of help," Seteth says, with a slight nod. "Is there anything else I can do to help you?"

"You've already done enough," Dedue says as he grabs a bowl, mortar, and pestle. "Although, I fear I must warn you that I last saw Flayn with Linhardt at the Officer's Academy."

Seteth sighs as he nods, turns and starts walking away. "I told Byleth that Hevring is the last person-"

Dedue watches the man leave the hall before he pours in a small bit of water into the bowl. He looks back down to start cutting and chopping his spices, grinding them down in the mortar and pestle before adding them to the water and stirring everything together. After everything was fully incorporated, he poured the mixture into a small pot and put it on medium heat to simmer and reduce while he worked with the meats and cheeses for his sandwiches.

He is a good portion of the way through the meats, counting out the current amount of slices he has, when he looks up and sees Ashe taking a seat at the counter. "Hello, Ashe."

"Hey, Dedue," Ashe replies with a wave. "What'cha doing?"

Dedue looks back at the sauce and decides that it needs a bit more time. "Cooking. How are you?"

"I'm good," Ashe answers. "I've been thinking about some stuff, and decided to get out of my room for a while."

Dedue hums in acknowledgment, looking back at the meats in front of him. "If you're not too busy," he muses, knowing that Ashe can cook, "can I ask for your help?"

Ashe leaps off of his stool and walks around the counter to the sink, turning on the water in a few seconds. "What do you want me to do?"

"Can you help cut the cheese into slices?" Dedue asks, working on the thicker slices of meat. "If you want a good idea of what size they should be, the slices of bread are to the right of this station."

A few moments pass before Ashe dries his hands and takes a quick glance over at the stacks of bread. "Ah," the silver-haired student vocalizes, hopefully understanding Dedue's plan. "Do you want me to start assembling the sandwiches too?"

"That would be nice," Dedue remarks, smiling at how effortlessly it seemed to talk to the archer now.

Ashe picks up a knife and a block of cheese and gets to work with a simple, "Got it." For a short while, the two work in near silence, with the only sounds being the knives against the cutting board, the sound of the kitchen and dining hall around them, and the occasional questions and quality control chatter between the two of them. Dedue takes the reduction off of the stove and starts to prepare a pan to cook all of the meats he needs to cook. As he places the first slice of meat down on the oiled skillet, he prepares a second one for the few slices of fish he has, quickly getting that skillet in working order as well. He also doles out a small amount of the sauce into a different bowl and hands it off to Ashe, telling the archer to spread a little bit of it over each empty slice of bread.

As Dedue is finishing up with the meats that need to be cooked, he notices that Ashe is slowing down in his task. He takes the pan off of the heat and calmly takes the knife out of his hands. "You finished cutting the last slice of cheese and were about to hit your fingers," he explains when Ashe jumps and blushes. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh, yeah," Ashe blurts out, and Dedue raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. The smile on the archer's face strains a bit before he sighs. "I've just been thinking a lot again."

Dedue can understand that. "Am I allowed to ask what you've been thinking about?"

Ashe chuckles. "It's mostly about two things," he admits, placing a small dollop of sauce onto a piece of bread. "I was thinking about talking to Dimitri about increasing the budget for the health of the people."

"That sounds like a worthy cause."

"Thanks. I was afraid of it being selfish because I lost my parents to disease, but I was starting to think about all of the people who lived under Lonato," Ashe says, and the top of his ears are red. "A lot of people were mostly trying to make sure that their family was healthy and safe."

Dedue hums, placing the knife in the sink. "That doesn't seem selfish," he says, being genuine, turning to the small bag of rice he placed aside earlier. "It sounds like you're trying to help other families deal with an issue before it affects them in the same way it affected your family."

He hears Ashe pause for a brief moment as he seems to take in Dedue's words. "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

Dedue nearly drops his bag of rice. "Really?"

"Yeah!" Ashe declares enthusiastically. "You're the closest representation to a knight I've known in my entire life! You're kind, caring, smart, brave-" The two make eye contact as Ashe starts to ramble and the archer pauses. They remain like that for a few moments before Dedue turns away, praying that his face is dark enough to hide the heat rising to the surface of it.

He clears his throat, taking a clean knife and opening the bag of rice. "Thank you."

"No problem," Ashe says quietly. The two continue their tasks in a slightly embarrassed silence now, Dedue pouring the bag of rice into a clean pot and filling it with water. He puts in a decent amount of the paste and stirs it a bit before he puts it on the stove to cook, covering it with a lid.

He turns back to the sandwich prep station and starts completing the sandwiches, adding a slice of meat to what Ashe has already done before closing the entire thing with a firm press. The process moves by quickly, and soon Dedue is nearly done assembling the sandwiches when he realizes that Ashe took the rice off of the heat before it could be ruined. "Thank you."

Ashe nods, still holding the pot. "You're welcome. Where do you want me to put it?"

Dedue quickly traces a square on the surface of the stone next to the stove, trying to create a warm area for the rice in the same manner that he heats up his tea. "You can put it there," he says, taking the last unassembled sandwich and putting a cut of fish in it. "Thank you for your help."

"Are you sure you don't need any more?" Ashe asks as Dedue hears the sound of the pot settling down onto the stone. "I have time to spare."

"I should be fine now," Dedue says, finishing the sandwich. "If you want to come back early, you could probably get first choice before everyone else."

Ashe sighs. "Alright. I should probably study battle tactics for tomorrow anyway. I'll see you in a bit!"

Dedue waves at Ashe as he leaves before picking up the platter of assembled sandwiches and turning to the stove. He took the skillet still coated with the rendered fat from the cooked meats and added a little bit of oil before he put in on the heat and placed the first sandwich in it to grill the bread and melt the cheese.

As he works to make sure that each sandwich was consistent in color and crisp, putting them onto a heated platter when he was done cooking them, he feels soft yet steady footsteps approach the counter, and he calmly tries to see if he can recognize the pattern. "Hello, Petra."

"Greetings, Dedue," Petra answers back, a smile in her voice. "How are you doing?"

"I'm well. How are you?"

"I'm currently hiding from Ferdinand," the princess tells him excitedly. "We're playing tag."

Dedue flips the sandwich he's currently grilling. "Are you winning?"

Petra laughs. "With some help," she says, before suddenly humming to herself. Dedue turns around and just barely catches a glimpse of green before Petra leans forward onto the counter. "Ferdinand is next to the stables right now."

Dedue smiles at her. "I think if you time it right, you could probably make your way up to the cathedral before he even reaches the marketplace."

Petra seems to think about it a bit before she stands up, waving at Dedue. "Thanks for the advice. I will take it. I hope I get to eat your cooking later."

"I hope so too," Dedue says, waving back at the girl as she quickly dashes out of the hall. Dedue goes through a few more sandwiches before Ferdinand shows up, sweaty and ragged. He finishes a few more sandwiches before Hubert enters the dining hall and forcibly drags the younger man out.

Soon, Dedue finishes cooking all of his sandwiches, and transfers the platter to the outward counter. As he picks up the knife and starts cutting them into triangles, he notices Byleth walk into the dining hall and approach his station. The mercenary looks down at the task he's currently doing. "Am I too late to help you cook?"

"If you want to help, you can find a larger platter for me to present this all on," Dedue says, counting all of the sandwich triangles he has. Byleth nods and leaves for a few moments while Dedue continues on his task.

The professor returns with what has to be the biggest platter in the entire monastery. "Here you go," they say, placing it onto the counter.

Dedue nods. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Dedue allows himself to spend some time to plating sandwiches, creating a ring on the outside edge of the platter before starting a smaller ring inside of it. Throughout it, he is very aware of Byleth's presence still at the counter, so when he's almost done he looks up and raises an eyebrow. "Is everything alright?"

Byleth shrugs. "I was just wondering why you haven't used anything from Duscur until now."

There's a short silence after the professor speaks where Dedue tries to figure out what they mean by that. "You've seen me use the earth," he says, getting back to his task, "so I've done it before."

"Right," Byleth agrees, the tone of their voice colored in embarrassment. "I really meant to ask why don't you use them often."

Dedue doesn't have to think about his answer. "Well, you see how Ingrid and Felix react to anything Duscis," he says. "I'd rather not cause more tremors than what I would consider necessary."

"Well," Byleth starts, their tone inquisitive, "what inspires you to use the earth anyway? Why use it at all?"

Thoughts of festivals and families fill Dedue's head. With a startling realization, he thinks about how the sandwiches he's currently holding are very close to the same ones he and Aura would make at around this time of year, just before winter started, when both of their parents were working in the forges. "I- I presume it's a way for me to honor my home," he says slowly, letting the words sit on his tongue for a few moments. "A few months ago, I was talking with Mercedes and she said something that spoke to me."

"Hm," Byleth hums. Dedue finishes cutting and plating the sandwiches, grabbing the pot of rice kept warm by the counter, starting to spoon it into the space left in the center of the heated platter. "Interesting. Thank you for being honest."

"You're welcome," Dedue says, making sure that no rice is being wasted. "Care for some food? I'm nearly done."

"I'm good," Byleth says, getting up from their seat. "I just wanted to talk to you for a bit."

Dedue turns around and grabs the sauce, getting ready to pour it onto the rice. "I see. I assume I will see you in class tomorrow?"

Byleth nods. "You will," they say, waving goodbye before away, probably to go the fishing pond. Dedue finishes pouring the sauce, and after double checking the heat on the platter, he simply steps back and looks at the meal for a few moments.

One of the monastery chefs glances at it and hums approvingly. "Good job. You should probably get ready for the dining hour. I'll clean up after you."

Dedue thanks the man and takes off his apron to leave the kitchen. He has a few minutes to waste before the dining hall is officially open, so he checks his flowers at the greenhouse to see if anything has changed. Most of them are the same as they always have been, with only one flower having a noticeable change: a teal and light green flower that somehow represents Byleth is now suddenly turned face to the black, mint green, and white flower that represents Mihail.

What that was supposed to mean, Dedue doesn't know.

During dinner, the sandwiches seem to be a hit. Dedue is glad he made enough food for enough people to be able to get seconds (and in Raphael and Ingrid's case, thirds). There are a lot of compliments over the rice and paste, where soon Seteth calmly walks over and asks him if he would like to help cook dinners more often.

Ingrid and Felix both do double takes and stare at their plates for a while. Sylvain seizes the opportunity to pluck a sandwich off of Felix's plate.

The meal gets a name at the end of dinner: "The Red Wolf Platter". Dedue finds a well of pride bubble in him, like a strong vein of gold, as people ask if it'll be made again.

In class, they learn that their mission for the Red Wolf Moon is to simply do a patrol shift for Remire Village. The entire house audibly sighs at how normal the mission is, relieved that it will be nothing too crazy like fighting in the caverns or fighting the other houses.

"Oh, that mission you guys got today?" Hapi says the moment they enter Abyss. "Not at all a normal mission."

Mihail's eyebrow raises. "Dicesne quid?" (What did you say?)

Hapi rolls her eyes. "Non erit bene." (It isn't good.)

Of course it isn't. Fodlan wouldn't be nice enough to let them have one normal month. The three of them share a look between them all before they all make their way to the other Duscis. Dedue does a double take when they arrive at the training area and he sees Ashe sitting on Cibor's shoulders, firing arrows at a target. "Uh-"

"Don't ask," Towen says, calmly sitting down and keeping a close eye on the two, "Ashe wanted the practice and Cibor- well, you know how Cibor works."

"Ah," Dedue nods, remembering many of Cibor's ideas when they were kids. "How are they doing?"

"They're doing pretty well," Towen admits, tossing a small target in the air, downrange. An arrow pierces it at the top of its arc. "It could be worse. Cibor hasn't dropped him yet. It looks like they're having fun. Wanna toss a target?"

Dedue takes the small stone target presented to him and tosses it out, a few feet further downrange than the Resiti placed theirs. Ashe's arrow nicks it, causing it to shatter. Ashe and Cibor cheer for a few moments before Ashe gets off the brawler's shoulders. "That was a really cool idea," the archer remarks, slinging his bow over his shoulder. "Although I think it would work better with a taller person-"

"Hey, it worked really well with me," Cibor says, laughing as he reaches down to grab his gauntlets. "If you ever want to try it again-"

"You'll let me know first," Towen interrupts, clapping their hands together. "Cibor still owes me a few training bouts that he's not going to escape from. Ashe, I'm pretty sure that Dedue can keep you company."

Ashe nods, jogging away while Towen draws their sword and walks off to face Cibor. Dedue calmly stands where he was until the archer reaches him, the silver-haired student greeting him with a wave and, "Salve."

Dedue blinks as he registers what Ashe just said. "Has someone been teaching you Duscis?" he asks, both impressed that Ashe has taken the initiative to learn it, but also somewhat jealous that the heir of Gaspard didn't ask him for any lessons.

Ashe blushes a bright red. "Um, not exactly," he admits sheepishly. "I just keep on hearing the rest of you all say it as a greeting to each other. Is it too personal?"

"No, it's fine," Dedue says with a smile. Some part of him thinks that it's more than fine. "If you want to, I can try to teach you more?"

"I would love to learn more," Ashe says, a small smile on his face, "As long as it's not crossing anything."

"Well, the first thing about Duscis is how words change-"

"Hey!" Towen shouts, and the two of them turn to see that the two combatants are currently blade locked. "No talking during a fight!"

Ashe's face regains every bit of red it had lost over the past few moments, and Dedue can feel his own face heat up. With a bit of stammering, the two start walking towards the Duscis' room, ready to spend the rest of the night talking about speaking and writing in Duscis.

3 days before Mihail's 18th birthday, Dedue opens the door to his room to see Lorenz standing there, holding a sheaf of parchment. "Do you mind if I ask for some advice?" the heir of Gloucester inquires, looking slightly nervous.

Dedue sighs internally and nods, opening the door to his room. As Lorenz takes a seat, Dedue pulls a stone out of the wall, focuses on a message to bring him some food for breakfast, and drops it out of the window so Mihail could get it. When he turns around to face his desk, he sees that the purple haired man has covered it in pieces of parchment that have many folds and creases. "Is this another ritual?"

"What? No," Lorenz answers, flustered. "Although I must ask you to promise that nothing said in this room is said to anyone else. If you want gold for your silence, I am willing to pay." Lorenz sits up straight in the desk chair and puffs his chest out, looking like he's trying to keep an air of confidence that Dedue isn't sure he's established. "Now, you're probably wondering why I've come to you for advice."

"I am," Dedue admits

"Well," Lorenz starts, false confidence crumbling like wet sand, "I find myself in a dilemma. A few months ago, Mihail was researching the royal family of Almyra, and I decided to see if I could establish a link of diplomacy with one of the princes."

Dedue nods, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. "Alright. Did you accidentally insult him?"

Lorenz shakes his head. "Oh, goddess no, I took rigorous foreign diplomacy lessons for too many years to make such a simple mistake. However-" Lorenz plucks one of the letters off of the desks and thrusts it out towards Dedue. "Just read this."

Dedue takes the very creased paper, curious about what could be on it that would have the noble so out of sorts. He starts reading it.

To My Dearest Rose of Gloucester,

Dedue glances back up at Lorenz. "Dearest Rose of-"

Lorenz blushes heavily. "He's apparently a very sentimental person," he murmurs in a low voice. "When I asked him about the title, he said that he was aware of the beauty of Gloucester flowers, but because I reached out to him, I had to be the best in the region."

Dedue stares at the purple-haired student for a few more moments before looking back down at the letter with somewhat scratchy handwriting.

I am glad that my last letter found you in such good health. I will admit, I was concerned when I heard that you were going to be in a battle at the end of the moon, but it sounds like you fought well, even if your house lost. Hopefully this Claude you talk about sees and respects that.

Either way, I have been talking to my father about possibly sending an ambassador to meet with the Alliance. I may be in attendance, but as of right now, it doesn't seem like it. If I am able to go, I would love to see you there so we could finally meet up.

"This letter seems fine," Dedue says, looking up again. "You seem to have built a healthy foundation with him."

"Continue reading it," Lorenz moans, voice muffled through his hands.

I have actually been thinking about how it would be like when we meet for the first time. I know you sent me a small portrait of yourself, but I still find myself wondering if the artist accurately captured every detail. My artist certainly didn't.

I wonder how you'll react to the sight of me. I am… aware of how Fodlan seems to view different potential partnerships, and your specific situation. I still have to give you my two options, travel to Dagda or allow me to show you Almyra in person. I honestly pray that if you do join me on my native lands, you could enjoy a great range of things here.

In any case, Lorenz, I eagerly await your next letter. We honestly must write to each other more, I find myself either bored or stressed in my circumstances. Your letters are a breath of fresh air every time I see them. Hopefully, the case I've sent you is still in working order. Please let me know if it isn't so I can see if there's a way to send you a new one.

Sincerely,

Khalid Kayvon, 3rd prince to the Almyran throne.

Dedue looks up, holding the letter back out to the Leicester noble. "So, you and this prince," he voices, just to sift through the silence. "Khalid. He seems to enjoy your writing."

"He does," Lorenz says with a nod. "He's obviously of good taste."

"So what do you want advice about?" Dedue asks.

Lorenz clasps his hands together, looking up, but avoiding Dedue's gaze. "How does marriage work in Duscur? From what I can guess from Mihail's demeanor, people don't seem to marry for title, or politics, or money. So, what do they marry for?"

Dedue looks at Lorenz for a few seconds. "As long as two people want to, they can go to a trusted elder and be declared married," he says, unaware of how to really answer the question. "There's a good amount of tradition that happens beforehand usually, but the act of marrying someone is more of a formality of their declaration."

"Declaration?" Lorenz asks. "Of what?"

"Love. Adoration. Trust. Respect," Dedue lists out.

Lorenz looks uncomfortable. "So, I guess some people just never married."

Dedue nods. "Some just didn't want to marry. Being married doesn't carry any social weight in Duscur, it's just something to celebrate and cherish when you can."

"So I assume there were a lot of happy men and women married to each other, with others happily single?"

"There were many happy partnerships. My parents were married, Mihail's parents were married, Adrista's mothers were married-"

Lorenz's eyes widen. "Mothers?" he asks. "But I thought it was a man and woman-

"Two people. As long as they were adults, in love, and were healthy for each other, they usually got married." Dedue says, seeing the idea fully plant itself in Lorenz's head.

"Hm. How interesting," Lorenz says after a few moments, staring at a stone in the wall.

Dedue silently wonders what's taking Mihail so long. "Do you mind if I ask why you aren't talking to Mihail about this?"

Lorenz's blush seems to grow worse, now reaching his neck. "Well, er, you see," he stammers, looking around the room again, "I mean, as you know, I am the only heir of House Gloucester. And I have a duty to be the best heir I can be. My father would love to have a grandchild, especially one with less-" Lorenz cuts himself off with a sigh and stares directly at Dedue. "What I am about to say next is very personal."

Dedue understands what's implied. "Of course."

"My father would like an heir with less Dagdan blood," Lorenz admits, staring down at the floor. "He told that it may take a few children and generations, but-"

"Wait," Dedue interrupts, "your father told you that you have to have kids so that they can be more Fodlanian?"

Lorenz sighs. "It's more complicated than that, but that is the summary of it all. House Gloucester is nearly on the collapse because of some of my father's actions, so the burden falls-"

"Onto him. He should fix it."

"That's not how Alliance politics works," Lorenz says, pursing his lips together

Dedue sighs. "Alright, we can talk about that later if you want to. What does this have to do with Mihail?"

Lorenz is quiet for a few moments. "Over the past few moons, I have found myself writing more and more poetry," he says, and Dedue can definitely believe that Lorenz writes poetry in his free time. "And more and more often, I find that the poetry centers itself around one of three people."

Dedue has an idea of where this is going. "Am I wrong to guess that Khalid is one of those people?" he inquires.

Lorenz cringes. "Much to my constant surprise, you wouldn't be," he admits, sighing. "Mihail is another. Claude is the third."

Dedue remembers what Lorenz just said about having children. He knows enough about noble politics to know that it really means to have a legitimate heir. And under those standards, Lorenz seems to be trapped by a lack of attraction to anyone who isn't male. "How does marriage work in Dagda?"

"It takes a while," Lorenz admits after some silence. "My mother told me that it takes several moons or years to exchange letters, poems, and gifts before it actually starts. If you can arrange to see the same person for 7 nights, you are considered to be married."

"So, should I be aware of late night meetings between you and Mihail?" Dedue quips with a straight face.

Lorenz nearly falls off his chair in shock. "No! I- I can't believe the implication that I would move so fast, it's unbefitting of my sta-" Lorenz stops talking as Dedue starts chuckling, unable to hold it in. At that moment the purple-haired student seems to realize how red his face is, pulling out a folding fan and attempting to cool himself off. "Ah, you were joking."

"Somewhat," Dedue admits, quieting down now. "But in all seriousness, what do you want?"

The room is silent. The sound of an afternoon breeze can be heard through the door. "I don't know," Lorenz says, in a quiet, nearly steady voice. "I want to tell them- all three of them- how I feel. But I don't know how they will react, or how to balance that with my duties as the heir of Gloucester."

Dedue reaches out and places a comforting hand on Lorenz's shoulder. "Just spend time with them for now," he advises. "If you can figure out more, make a decision from there."

"And if I can't?"

Dedue looks at Lorenz. "You can still make the decision. And if you don't, at least you've spent time with those you love," he says, thinking about his sister. "Never take that for granted."

Lorenz nods. "Thank you," he says, standing up and making his way towards the door.

Dedue clears his throat. "Lorenz?"

The heir stops right before he opens the door.

"Please, don't hurt Mihail," Dedue warns him. "I wouldn't consider myself responsible for whatever happens afterwards."

Lorenz's eyes widen. "Ah. I understand."

"I'm glad you do."

The unofficial second of the Golden Deer opens the door and walks out. After a few moments, Mihail enters the room with a plate of food. He looks slightly disheveled and Dedue immediately puts the plate onto his clear desk and looks over him. "Esne bene, meus frater?" (Are you well, my brother?)

"Sum bene," Mihail says, rolling his eyes. "Nunc, Ingrid et Felix estis prava." (I'm fine. Ingrid and Flix are vicious right now.)

Dedue sighs, stepping back and taking a bite out of the lunch. This could be brought to Seteth's attention later. Right now he's going to take his own advice and spend time with Mihail.

During a break, Dedue watches as Ashe approaches the table where he and Dimitri sit at, holding a folder. "Your Highness-"

"Please, Ashe, call me Dimitri," the prince casually interrupts with a smile.

Ashe looks flustered. "Of course, Dimitri. Um, I was looking through some of the letters and things I had from Lonato, and I found a copy of the records of past royal meetings."

"Oh?" Dimitri seems surprised. "That's good. I'm glad you have something to remember him by."

Ashe takes a deep breath. Dedue takes a closer look at him and sees that his hands are clutching onto the folder with a very tight grip, knuckles pale white. "Well," the archer begins before clearing his throat, "I was looking at the minutes of the meeting where he brought up the plan to add more gold to health services, and it looks like it was never even remarked upon."

Dimitri's smile seemed to dim. "Ah. Ashe-"

"Why wasn't it talked about, Dimitri?" Ashe asks, placing the crumpled minutes onto the table. Dedue looks at it to see the visibly blank space next to Lonato's proposal. "Was it even looked at?"

Dedue personally wasn't paying that much attention to any of the meetings, but from the look on Dimitri's face, it does not look like it was even thought about. "We already had most of the budget going to the knights at that point," the prince informs Ashe with an apologetic look on his face, "so we decided to table every other budget proposal for a later meeting."

Ashe looks hurt. "Did you ever get to it?"

"I don't think we did," Dimitri says with a shake of his head. "I'm sorry that Lonato's last proposal was never heard-"

"It's not about Lonato," Ashe says, voice flat and measured. Dedue can see his arms shaking as he leans on the table and stares at Dimitri. "Why? Why do the knights get so much money, and the people get so little?"

Dimitri leans back a little bit. "The knights are necessary to stop bandits, robbers, thieves, and other criminals. Besides," he also pulls back his textbooks as he was speaking, his oddly defensive behavior engraving itself into Dedue's memory, "it's not chivalrous to just be handed money. You have to work for it."

Ashe's eyes narrowed. "Dimitri," he starts, voice low and even, "when my parents died due to disease that was probably treatable, there was no work. There was no work in the whole village because most of the people had died. How was I supposed to get the money to live without stealing?"

Dimitri looks rattled. He stammers for a few moments, trying to figure out what to say. Byleth reenters the classroom and calls the house back to order. Ashe takes another deep breath, picks up his things, respectfully nods to Dedue and walks back to his table with Annette.

Dedue is busy cooking for dinner when Mercedes enters the cooking area, washing her hands and putting on an apron. They both end up putting their food in different ovens at the same time and start cleaning up as it cooks. A mug of tea is placed in front of Dedue when he finishes, and he takes it with thanks.

"It's no issue," Mercedes says, sipping her own tea. "I was just thinking about that conversation we had moons ago, about Duscur's gods."

Dedue has faint memories of it, but he does remember how open the woman was to learning about his culture. "I remember that."

"I was wondering if there were any books about Duscur in the library, and I couldn't find any," Mercedes admits with a sad look on her face. "If it isn't too much to ask for, could you tell me the story of how Duscur was made?"

Dedue nearly answers before the smell of baking goods hit his nose. His eyes narrow in on the oven where Mercedes was at. "I will if you can share the recipe for what you're baking," he says, feeling his stomach suddenly empty itself.

"Of course!" Mercedes agrees, giggling. The two take seats at the counter as she pulls out a piece of parchment with writing on it. "It's an old family recipe that would die if I didn't. I would love to share this with you."

She quickly copies down the recipe and hands it to Dedue. Dedue scans over it quickly and feels his mouth water at the idea of these cupcakes. "Thank you," he says instead, putting the recipe in his bag. "Now, the story of how Duscur was formed begins with Caelum, the deity of the sky, and Tellus, the god of the earth," Dedue explains. "Sometimes, Tellus is called Terra, and even though the gender is different, they're still the earth deity. I might switch between the two without warning."

Mercedes hums. "Thank you for telling me that. Is it alright for me to simply say the sky and the earth?"

"It is," Dedue answers. "Either way, the two met on the ground, spending three moons with each other. One day, they ran across a problem and both of them had different solutions. Caelum wanted to move to a different area to solve the problem, while Terra wanted to stay and dig deeper to solve the problem. So, they fought."

"They fought?"

"It was more of an argument, but the point was that they were not compromising with each other," Dedue corrects, taking a sip of his drink before continuing. "With the two of them arguing, every other god fell into either side. Soon, there was a small amount of chaos that continued to rage until it sparked the Rising Flame."

"The Rising Flame," Mercedes repeats. "Is that Duscur's version of The Goddess?"

"No, Ignis Orins is the deity of Duscur," Dedue explains. "We have a festival on the full moon of every winter month to celebrate the time Caelum and Tellus spent together before the birth of Duscur, specifically as a reminder to stay and work together instead of squabbling, to keep the Rising Flame alive."

"It sounds like squabbling did you well," Mercedes says. "If it built your nation."

"It was a lucky draw," Dedue jokes, and the two start laughing. The conversation moves on to small talk until the food finishes cooking.

On the 21st morning of the Red Wolf Moon, Dedue wakes up earlier than usual. After he finishes getting ready, he quickly makes his way upstairs to Mihail's room, quietly opening the door and sneaking inside, planning to prank-

Mihail looks up at him from where he sits on the bed, wide awake and reading a book. There's a smug grin on his face as Dedue groans in disappointment. "Sum magnus," Mihail says, laughing at the situation. (I'm great.)

"Multos annos, fuisti magnus semper," Dedue says, shaking his head. He held out the small package of tea leaves and herbs he had grown earlier. "Dies felix natalis, Mihail." (For years, you've always been great. Happy birthday, Mihail.)

Mihail takes the package, holding onto it as it works to permeate the air. Soon, it smells softly of ocean air and spices, what Mihail's house in Genus was like when they were kids. Neither of them speak for a few moments, staying perfectly still until Mihail wipes a tear from his eye. "Do gratias tibi, frater." (I give you my thanks, brother.)

Dedue simply nods and allows himself to be pulled into a hug. "Gaudeo, habens gratias tuum, frater." (I rejoice at holding your thanks, brother.)

The two sit there for a while until Mihail's stomach grumbles. As the now 18-year old kicks him out of the room so he can get changed, Dedue catches a glimpse of some new items on his desk: a royal purple tea set and a tiny wooden box with a foreign script carved into it. It feels oddly familiar, and as Dedue walks down the hallway, he sees Claude standing outside of Lorenz's room, leaning against the wall. Dedue waves at the two of them, and as they wave back, Dedue notices the ribbon around Claude's wrist with the same script as the box, and the royal purple of Lorenz's signet ring that matches the tea set.

When he makes it back downstairs, Petra gives him a knowing smirk and a nod. Dedue feels a headache start to form at the realization of what's actually happening in Lorenz's dilemma. He nods back as Petra pats his shoulder in pity, mumbling taht in Brigid, there's a common phrase that the cleverest people also have to be the stupidest at times for balance.

The Blue Lions are called to Remire Village one day earlier than expected. With Jeralt's demeanor, Dedue is expecting a surprise bandit attack, or a potential revolt that would not be in the church's best interests.

What he sees instead is a village on fire. What he sees instead are people running out of houses without everything they need. What he sees instead are people attacking and killing others.

It's like he's in Silvae again as the Murder of Duscur commenced. Gusts of wind fly by his head again as distress messages come in from other villages and areas as the Kingdom tears through them, his parents hide him and his sister in the forges, next to Bryn and Rius, Dedue peeks outside of the window to see Cibor trying to block a soldier from reaching Adrista-

"Hey," Byleth says, suddenly in front of him. Startled, Dedue takes a step back. "Is everything alright?"

Right. He's in Remire. He's not in Silvae. He's 19. He's not 14. He's perfectly fine. He's not being hunted down. "I'm better now," he says, breaking eye contact to make sure that all of his items are in working order. "I apologize for the scare."

Byleth nods. "Right," they say, looking him up and down. "I think for this battle, you should probably support Dimitri. You two seem to be able to work well on tasks together."

Dedue nods, and while pointedly not staring at the scene in front of him, he calmly makes his way over to the prince. He's more focused on the ground to help guide him, but he clearly hears Dimitri grunting like he does whenever he has a migraine. He glances at the prince, concerned over how furrowed his eyebrows are. "Is everything okay, Dimitri?"

Dimitri gives him a pained grin that quickly vanishes into a very serious expression. "Don't waste your time on me," he says, looking over to Byleth as they also step forward to keep an eye on the prince. "Saving the villagers is far more important. We don't have time to waste."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Mihail asks, staring at the village. "It's chaos."

"We'll have to take up arms against the villagers who are rampaging," Felix says, looking over his swords. "If we strike carefully, it should be possible to spare their lives."

Mercedes looks concerned at the idea. "Isn't there a more peaceful way to deal with this?"

Sadly, it seems like her pleas go ignored when Ingrid speaks up. "No matter how long it takes, we'll need to check and rescue them all, one at a time."

"Those who have gone mad may be victims themselves," Ashe pointed out. "Is it possible to save them?"

Annette spoke as she wrung her hands together. "Well, saving the poor people who aren't crazy is definitely our top priority!" She seemed anxious, ready to start casting spells. "Let's get on with it!"

Sylvain calmly steps in between the huddle, signaling for everyone to stop quickly. "Hold on, it won't do anyone any good if we panic and get injured ourselves."

As the group takes a few moments to recollect themselves, Dedue looks back at the village, the sounds of chaos slowly fading away till he could no longer hear it. He looks over small patches of flames and crumbled walls, up a somewhat steep hill where at the top-

He turns back to face the group. "Everyone, those people on the hill don't look like they're in danger," he says hurriedly. "They look like they're watching the chaos."

The group swiftly reacts in equal amounts of disgust and revulsion at the idea. Dimitri looks far more attentive now. "Are they the ones responsible for this madness?" The prince asks, and Dedue feels a shiver run down his spine at how dark Dimitri's tone is. "If so, it's clear what must be done."

Byleth, somehow has both a bored and a questioning look on their face. "And what is that?"

"Kill them all," Dimitri says, grabbing his lance with intent. "Don't let a single one of them escape. Sever their limbs and crush their wicked skulls!"

Everyone in the group falls silent. Dimitri simply walks away with the perfect steps of a soldier ready to engage in warfare. Dedue looks over at Byleth, who suddenly looks the tiniest bit nervous before they signal for him to follow the prince. With a blessing from Annette, he and his battalion are able to catch up to Dimitri at the same time as Dimitri's lance cuts into a crazed villager.

Fighting with Dimitri now is terrifying. His lance sings loudly with the speed of the blade before it cuts into whatever target is in front of him. Dedue finds himself only engaging in combat if there is more than one erratic villager, and he tries to only dispatch them. Dimitri seems to be taking his own words seriously, aiming mostly for the chest or the skull with every thrust of the lance. The tip of the spear falls off, and Dimitri whacks a crazed villager across the head with the wooden shaft before he tosses it off to the side and unstraps a second weapon to fight with.

It feels like both 5 seconds and five years have passed when they get to the bottom of the hill, and climbing it takes another few moments before they're face to face with-

"Tomas?" Mihail asks, right behind Dedue. The shock of such a familiar face has Dedue off balance for a few moments as he stares at the librarian.

Dimitri doesn't say a word, but he also doesn't move forward. Dedue can't see his face, but the prince looks like he's frozen in place.

Tomas looks ecstatic. "I'm not Tomas," he crows, and Dedue can hear that the sounds of battle have suddenly stopped, as if all of the rampaging villagers stopped rampaging. "My name is Solon, the savior of all!"

There's a rush of dark magic that covers the librarian before it fades away, revealing something that was not quite human. "What's the matter? So shocked you can't even speak?" Solon asks, voice dripping with sarcasm and mirth. "You were so easily fooled by my disguise. It was all too easy to hide away in Garreg Mach to get the blood of that little girl called Flayn and check up on past endeavors-"

Mihail gasps and Dedue's eyes narrow at the odd man in front of him, realizing exactly what he means by past endeavors.

"With that done, we'll be one step closer to realizing our goal."

"And you'll be one step closer to the grave when my lance pierces your throat," Dimitri states, taking one step closer to the man.

Solon laughs. "They charge in without any plan whatsoever," he boasts, turning his head back and forth as if to relish and drink in all of the chaos he caused. "Beasts, the lot of them." He holds up a fist, and it sparks with dark energy. "Unfortunately, the experiment is over," he booms, smirking as he opens his hand and dark magic shoots out past them, into the village.

There are many screams, and Dedue can hear the villagers calling out for help, the shouts of his classmates trying to reach them, the shouts of the corrupted villagers as they still snarl and attack and start suddenly dying. Everyone on the hill seems held in place with either fear or glee as the sounds continue, until most of them die out, and Solon's smile grows wider as the only sounds left are the sound of those who came from Garreg Mach, reacting to the magical massacre.

Dimitri takes another step forward, but remains silent. Then another step. Then a third. The lance point wavers until it doesn't, and Dimitri runs forward with a battlecry of, "I will cut you to shreds!"

Solon warps away before Dimitri can strike him. The prince's lance ends up biting into and cutting through a tree stump. Dedue feels Mihail's hand worm itself inside of his and he squeezes gently in solidarity.

Byleth is out of breath when they run up the hill. If there's one thing that Deue can tell from the expression on their face, it is that they definitely expected things to go differently.

And he can't blame then for not being omniscient.