Though their armies have linked back up, they really have no time to get used to being back on the front lines. They've given the Empire more than enough time to bolster their forces nearby, and if they don't act soon... They'll be attacked, and they may not survive the next time.

Claude eases into a chair at the far end of the war table, legs crossed casually. Byleth, as calm as ever, also sits down on a seat, though he instead chooses a place closer to the table's middle. Judith hovers over his shoulder, and slowly, all those associated with the Alliance begin taking their seats, Hilda sitting closest to Claude and Byleth, all choosing to sit at the same end of the table.

"So, let's get this meeting started, yeah?"

Nodding his head, Dimitri chooses to sit at the other end of the table, his gaze sharp on the large map spread out in front of them all. Dedue stands dutifully just over his shoulder, and Gilbert takes the closest seat on his left. Lilia decides to sit down on his right, the same side as Hilda, who gives her a sweet smile from down the table. Mercedes decides to sit next to her, with Annette filling the next spot down— a rather noticeable distant from her father. Sylvain sits down next to Gilbert, and Felix and Ingrid sit down next to him. She takes a second to look around, every chair filled, the war table set and ready for a meeting.

There's a long pause, the air filled with an intensely serious miasma.

Then, Claude leans forward, his chin resting in the palm of his hand, his voice airily light. "Oh, but first— is it your Kingliness now?"

"Goodness, Claude, really?" Dimitri's voice sounds exasperated, but his lips quirk upwards. "No, not yet."

"Ah, so it's still your Princeliness for now." The dark-haired man nods his head, as though he's enlightened by such information.

Hilda rolls her eyes, a giggle hidden behind her hand. "Come on Claude, we're not here to gossip. We can do that after we're done."

"Right, right. Okay, so—" He leans forward, getting up from his seat, and begins moving wooden dolls around on the map. He has several larger ones painted in specific colours, a white one, a blue one, a yellow one, and a red one, and numerous smaller ones that seem to represent soldiers. Lilia presumes that must mean the large ones represent generals, or specific armies... Carefully, Claude places the red doll at the most southern part of the map. "Our spies have informed me that Edelgard and her elite forces have retreated back to Enbarr, but they've a sizeable force of soldiers in Fort Merceus."

He places a few of the smaller dolls on another spot on the map, not too far from their current position. Leonie bites her lip, commenting— "Fort Merceus... the Impregnable Fortress, or so it's called."

"I know of it," Ashe agrees. "They say it rivals even Arianrhod."

"If I recall correctly, it's sometimes referred to as the 'Stubborn Old General'." Ignatz notes.

Claude nods his head, "Not only is it praised as the strongest line of defence in the Empire, but supposedly leading the troops within is the notorious Death Knight." He places a jet-black doll in the very middle of the group of smaller ones.

Mercedes' expression shifts, and her head lowers. Her voice comes out just barely a whisper, so quiet that Lilia just barely catches it. "Oh... so that's who we'll be battling... Emile..."

Lilia furrows her brow, reaches out to gently place a hand on the older woman's shoulder. She gets a weak smile in response, but it only breaks her heart. She doesn't know who this 'Emile' is, but seeing cheerful and kind Mercedes so upset about it hurts.

"So, here's the plan we've come up with. One army will dress up in Imperial soldier garb, claiming to be reinforcements from the capital, and sneak into the fortress. However, on our way to the fortress, the 'reinforcements' will be attacked by the other army and our allies," The Duke waves a hand. "The soldiers within will panic and open the gates, and then... we all attack."

Dimitri nods his head, humming low in his throat. "I've never been fond of how dangerous your plans are, but this might be our best shot."

"Aw, thank you." Claude grins, proud as ever.

The army continues to hash certain things out, with the meeting only ending once the hours grow late into night.

Only two people remain within the war room. Sconces that had been lit with candles earlier are beginning to flicker out, the lights dimming with every passing minute. It's quiet, but not relaxed. Dimitri taps a finger against the table, the metal of his gauntlet scraping against the wood.

"So, Claude," He begins. "Do you want to tell me who our other allies are?"

The man leans back in his chair, letting out a sigh. "Honestly, I didn't want to show this hand, but... I realised that we really don't have a choice. We can't afford to hold back, and the Empire is way more unified under Edelgard than I would've expected. Even with our combined strength, we're gonna struggle if we don't pull out all the stops."

He leans forward, and whispers. The blond's eye widens, and he mouths a simple word. "Really?"

Claude nods, and the prince furrows his brow. Dimitri takes a moment, leaning back in his seat, his chest heaving with an exhale. He seems to be deep in thought, and for a brief second there is a tension in the air, like a cold breeze has blown through.

"Alright," Dimitri finally says. "I'm going to trust you and this plan of yours."

The duke sighs, relief washing over him. "I'm sure we can do it."

He can only hope.

A group meets in the infirmary not long after dinner. The largest of the lot, a prince clad in midnight, jet-black and Faerghan blue, leans against the door to prevent interruptions. By his side is a short girl, clad in white-silver armour and the frilled skirts of a pegasus flier. Sitting on one of the beds is a man with mint-green hair, his eyes flicking between each person, and standing nearby him is a dark-haired man, his intelligent green eyes glinting. A woman dressed in forest green and black leathers lies herself across another one of the cots, her red hair sprawling out across the white sheets, a bored expression painted across her features.

"Didi, Lili, I don't know why you guys wanted to do this so soon," The woman adjusts the way she's sitting, her voice nonchalant as she glimpses from the prince to the other man, his dark brown hair brushed out of his eyes, a vivid and intelligent green. "I mean, we just got back from marching. I'd appreciate a little rest."

Dimitri frowns a little. "It was urgent information, Hapi."

"And, um, I figured... since you seemed to know Cornelia, it'd might be good to have you around." The other woman in the room, Lilia, the small lady with shimmering silver locks, fiddles with the ends of her hair— somewhat meek.

"I..." Hapi purses her lips, and it's obvious she's holding back a sigh. "Oh, alright then."

The dark-haired man, candlelight bouncing off of his golden robes, gives an easygoing grin. "So, any reason why we couldn't talk about this in the war room, Lovebirds?"

The pair sputter, embarrassment washing over like the tidal waves against Derdriu's piers. Lilia immediately starts to fan her face, like the summer humidity has sunk through the stone walls and stuck to her skin, causing a red hot flush throughout her body; while Dimitri turns his head away and raises a gauntleted hand to his mouth, trying to conceal his expression entirely.

Claude snorts. "Oh, we're still on this stage."

Byleth glances between the two, embarrassed beyond belief, and gently pats Claude on the shoulder. "We have more important things to discuss," He shoots a look to the pair. "What is it?"

"R-Right," Dimitri clears his throat. "We wanted to speak because we learned some things in Fhirdiad, and some of the pieces aren't quite right. So, perhaps we could combine our knowledge and figure it out together."

Lilia nods, quickly piping up. "Um, so— when we went to Ailell, I had one of my... dreams about Lord Gwendal. In it, a rat scurried into the jaws of a snake that had bright salmon-pink scales. I hadn't all pieced it together at the time, but... I think the snake was Cornelia."

"That would make sense," The Alliance's leader nods. "She ran the Dukedom, so any 'rats' would've gone to her."

"I just... I don't know why snakes," She frowns. "I understand it can be a metaphor for one's... shady behaviour, but usually in my dreams... things like that had a meaning. Snakes are rare so far north as Fhirdiad, so it just..."

"She was definitely a snake for what she did to me..." Hapi grumbles under her breath.

The prince hums. "Cornelia was from the Empire, though. Snakes are quite common there," He pauses, and then continues, "Actually, that reminds me... Claude, Professor, Hapi, do you remember Monica?"

The atmosphere in the room changes, and Lilia feels her skin prickle from it. She glances at Byleth and feels her breath hitch in her throat at the look on his face— familiar in a way that is almost frightening. It reminds her of Dimitri, when they'd first met. That barely concealed anger, the ghost of vengeance.

"I do." He seems to clench his fist, and then take a deep breath, schooling his expression and seemingly calming down.

"I'm wondering... if perhaps the Cornelia who staged a coup, who ran Faerghus into the ground with unbelievable taxes... was not the real Cornelia," Dimitri puts a hand on his chin. "I can remember what that woman was like when I was a boy... She had been worthy of everyone calling her a saint. But there was one day when she just... completely changed. Her behaviour, her mannerisms, her likes and dislikes... Sound familiar?"

Claude runs a hand through his hair. "So, she's probably the same as Tomas and Monica— or Solon and Kronya, as they apparently were actually called..."

Byleth furrows his brow for a moment, remaining completely silent as he seems to fall into a deep thought. Hapi looks to him for a moment, leaning a little into her hands as she lies on her stomach on the bed, humming under her breath before sitting up properly.

"Y'know, I remembered something that I overheard when I was with that woman," She comments airily. "But, I get the feeling I should save it for later."

Claude quirks his brow up. "Oh?"

"Well..." Her eyes slide towards Dimitri.

"Ah. About..." Hapi nods, and his eye drops to the floor for a moment. "You see, Cornelia implied my... my stepmother was involved in the Tragedy of Duscur."

"You had a stepmother?" The Riegan duke asks, shocked, and Dimitri nods.

"It was a closely kept secret. The truth was only known by those close to my father," Dimitri inhales, and Lilia can't help but reach out to take his hand, a simple gesture of comfort. He squeezes it, and she squeezes back. "I've yet to tell many of my companions this, but... my stepmother and Edelgard's birthmother are one and the same."

Silence fills the air, the disbelief evident in how the duke reacts. He simply blinks a few times, and then slowly gestures for the prince to continue. "Whether or not Cornelia's claims ring true or false, a lead to what happened in Duscur is a lead."

"Hm..." Hapi hums. "Apparently, the king had kept the fact that her daughter was in Fhirdiad a secret from her."

"That's not possible. Neither my father or I knew at the time that the Imperial princess was staying in the capital. He wouldn't have gained anything from hiding that her daughter was there in the first place..."

The redhead shrugs. "Then why would she have thought that?"

"I can only speculate, but it seems there was a misunderstanding between her and my father. Although she was the queen consort, in truth, my father and stepmother were not even allowed the dignity of being alone together," A crease forms on Dimitri's forehead as he thinks, distant memories barely lingering coming to the forefront of his mind. "And the one who persistently inserted herself between them was their intermediary... Cornelia."

Lilia's hand tightens even more in his. "So, then... She hid it from from your stepmother...?"

"I believe so. Meanwhile, she may have hidden my stepmother's presence from Lord Arundel as well. If Cornelia caused my stepmother to miss out on seeing them, exhorted her, used her, and then also caused the Tragedy... Hmm."

Claude taps his foot on the ground, the wheels in his head clearly beginning to spin as well. "Lord Arundel has been ruling the Hyrm family territories since Edelgard began her reign... Supposedly his governing is especially cruel. We've had a fair few refugees coming in over the border since the war began from Hyrm. Lysithea probably knows more about him than I do, though."

"I'm surprised she pulled one over on both of them. She was pretty reckless," Hapi notes, and Lilia is inclined to agree. Everything about Cornelia felt rash, but she especially thinks of a moment blurred by pain, where the mage had aimed the blade end of her weapon for Dimitri's neck— taking a chance that she can only think of as extremely reckless. "But in a way, it makes sense. She loved causing pain. That's why she used me and discarded me without a second thought."

"Wait," Claude speaks up. "Sorry— I was going to ask earlier, but... What was your relationship to Cornelia?"

"She kidnapped me and used me as her test subject."

Claude sucks in from behind his teeth, and Byleth finally speaks up. "That's another connection between her and Solon and Kronya's group."

"Ah, right. The information Lysithea gave us... Next time we meet about this, we're going to need her with us..." The Alliance duke musses his hair up again, thick dark curls getting messier with every new revelation. "We don't know much, but there's something we know for sure. That there's something more going on behind the scenes here in Fodlan, some unknown force at works... and whatever it is or whoever it is... they're connected to the Empire."

The conversation that had occurred hours earlier and the fact they're going to be marching for Fort Merceus tomorrow makes it difficult to sleep. Her mind races at miles per minute, thinking about all the variables and the unknowns. By the time Lilia's eyes grow heavy and she thinks that the sweet embrace of rest has taken her for the night, she's startled awake by some unseen force in her dreams, swallowed by darkness and surrounded by the whispers of those whose lives she's taken with her own hands.

Sweat drenches her body, a mixture of the lingering adrenaline and fear and the summer heat she's not used to. After taking a moment to catch her breath, a moment to realise she's awake and in the barracks. Lilia lifts her head and takes in deep breaths, eyes searching the dark room for those around her— she can see the glimmer of Ingrid's golden hair under the moonlight, Mercedes' cream curls spread across her pillow. Her heart begins to slow, and her legs curl up, knees meeting her chest. Even when she closes her eyes, she can still see splatters of blood.

She decides to get out of her cot, the stone floor cool beneath her bare feet, and leave the quarters. For some reason, or maybe for a reason she knows but doesn't want to say, her feet are leading her in a familiar direction— in search of someone familiar, someone she'd spent several months sleeping only a feet away from. It's embarrassing, but she longs for something familiar, something to remind her that she's in the waking world.

She finds herself at his door, and carefully knocks against the wood. She doesn't expect an answer, truthfully. Even as a child, she dealt with her nightmares alone; she supposes she's just gotten greedy with the company she's always surrounded by. Despite the fact she fully expects to be met with silence, she waits for a few moments, and to her surprise—

It opens, with a creak. "Lilia?"

She looks up, meets eyes with Dimitri. He's dressed more casually than he had been when she'd met him in his tent while they were marching, thin linen shirt and pants sitting loosely on his frame. Suddenly, she cannot help but feel a little exposed in her nightgown, despite the fact the cotton reaches her ankles. It's just rather... thin, and she's not even wearing anything structure like a pair of stays... She imagines what the priests and priestesses who raised her would say; 'How dare an unwed woman enter a man's quarters in her nightwear!', she can just hear it. How scandalous, how shameless. It's silly now, how little she finds herself caring about that these days. Though perhaps it's just that she doesn't mind because it's him.

"Um..." She crosses her arms over her chest, her heart pounding beneath her skin. "May I... come in?"

He looks to her, a quiet pause, and then opens the door a little more. "O-Of course."

She enters the room and lets her arms slide from crossed to simply grasping at her arms, clutching tight at the fabric clinging to her skin. The door closes, and she turns to Dimitri with wide eyes. "I'm, um. Sorry to have disturbed you..."

"It's— uh, it's alright," He moves away from the door, drawing closer to her. "Are you? Alright, I mean."

Her hands brush up and down her biceps. "I just... had a nightmare, is all."

"Ah," He moves past her, and gently pats the bed for her to sit down. "I understand how you feel."

She glances to the spot he gestures, and then carefully sets herself down. He sits beside her, and briefly she's taken back to the moment not long after Gronder, where she'd tended to his wounds. It's the same room as then, the same candlestick flickering with light, the same distinct and familiar fragrance of weapon oil and chamomile. Even just the warmth of his body radiating from his place beside her is providing her comfort.

"You couldn't sleep either?"

He shakes his head. "No... Though the dead are... quieter during the day, they still bother me quite a bit at night."

Reaching out, Lilia rests her hand on top of his. He takes a moment to register it, but once he does, he turns his hand— bare, a rarity— palm up and links his fingers with hers. Carefully, meekly, she leans into him. She knows there's not much she can do or say; she'll never understand how it must feel to be haunted by the dead every moment of your existence. She'll only get brief tastes of it in her dreams, and even then... if she wakes up, she can escape.

"You know, um..." Her thumb brushes over the back of his hand, over scars thin and thick. Despite how calloused his hands are, they're comfortable. "I used to have a journal. For years, I'd write any of my... my premonitions down within it. To go back to incase something ended up happening in real life. It's not quite the same, but, um... maybe you can do something similar? Maybe... write in a journal when you do have good dreams...? Or something..."

She stopped writing in her journal once people started to listen to her, started to believe her about her dreams. No longer did she need to write them down just to get them off her chest, when someone would just hear her out.

"No, that sounds... good, actually." His expression is gentle, and she feels him lean into her a little as well.

"I'll buy you a journal to write in, then." When the war is over is implied. She doesn't want to ruin the moment by reminding either of them of the horrors that exist outside of this room. Right now, she is at peace.

She yawns— and immediately covers her mouth out of embarrassment afterwards. He chuckles, a sound that she can almost feel rumble through him, and her cheeks darken. Though she should perhaps pull away from him, she instead turns her head into his arm and tries to hide her face.

Dimitri squeezes her hand a little. "You should get some rest, Lilia."

"I... um, could I... would it be possible if I..." She swallows down her shame. "...Stayed with you? T-Tonight, I mean."

A hot red flush runs down his face, and immediately he turns his head away from her, attempting to conceal it; though she can see that it even reaches up to his ears, pale skinned turned pink in the candlelight. His reaction only makes her feel more shy, and she loosens her grasp on his hand; she's probably sweaty, and a mess, and oh Goddess, this definitely looks—!

"I-I just... don't think I can sleep in the women's quarters tonight..."

His adam's apple bobs, and his good eye glances back at her. "You can... take the bed."

"B-But it's your bed! I can't just..." Her fingers dig into the fabric of her nightgown. "W-We can share? I-It'll kind of be like, um... how it was when we were travelling?"

A long pause, and then he finally nods, though his face is still stained in shades of pink and red, splotched across his cheeks like flower petals. She wonders what he did with the garland she gave him; perhaps she'll ask when she's not exhausted from nightmares. Carefully, he pulls back the sheets and gestures for her to lie down, and so, positively timidly, she lies herself down. In attempt to make as much room for him as possible, she pushes herself right against the wall.

Her head hits the pillow, and she glances up to him for a moment, eyes caught on something specific.

"Your eyepatch..."

His hand raises to the right side of his face. "Ah... I was going to remove it once you fell asleep."

"You don't have to do that..." She murmurs. "I don't mind if you take it off."

"...It's not a pretty sight."

Pouting a little, she decides to pull herself up a bit and reach out. "May I?"

There's a pause, before he carefully nods and lowers his head for her to reach. Her hand brushes over his hair, soft strands of blond beneath her fingers, and she slowly begins to untie the small bow keeping his eyepatch on. She feels it come loose, and the leather patch slowly comes off his face. His hand places over her own, pulling the eyepatch fully away and putting it on his side table. Lilia takes the moment to look at his right side for the first time ever. A thin scar runs from just below his eyebrow to just beneath his eye, long healed but... no doubt painful.

His head turns back to look at her, and she can see that his right eye is basically useless— though it's still there, she can see hints of a severe injury that someone attempted to heal with magic. The lake-blue colour of his iris is cloudy, and she swears that if she got close enough, she could see the scar on his eye itself. It hurts her heart to see him injured, even though it's clearly an old wound.

"Is... Is it okay if I ask... how you got that?" She understands if he doesn't want to talk about it, but... She's still curious.

Dimitri lies his head down, purposefully trying to keep space between them both; perhaps to not make her uncomfortable. In truth, she'd be happy to draw closer to him, but she keeps her distance for his comfort's sake as well. Their eyes meet for a moment before he looks away, almost shyly, so she gives him a smile. She's not scared of his scar. It's proof he's survived.

At her smile, he seems to relax. "It happened during the Empire's initial siege of Garreg Mach... I foolishly rushed into battle, blinded by rage and bloodlust and a longing to obtain vengeance for the dead. I kept fighting, despite the fact I was injured, and one of the soldiers managed to get a hit in. One of the nearby healers did their best, but..." He shrugs. "It has been so long now that the wound doesn't hurt, and it doesn't impair my vision in battle, though."

"You've done incredible to survive," She whispers. "They'd be proud of you."

His eyes close, and his lips curl into the ghost of a smile. "Thank you... You are far too kind to me."

Lilia thinks more people should be kind to him. After all he's been through, he certainly deserves it. But if no one else will shower him with with the care and affection he deserves, then she's more than happy to do it all herself.

She only wakes up briefly again, and it's when the warmth she's surrounded by begins to move. Her eyes blink a few times, both her mind and eyes blurry with sleep, and presses her nose further into the mass of heat by her side, wanting to get some more rest in. She's no doubt that she hasn't gotten enough sleep, considering she went to bed late, and she wants to chase after any more moments of rest that she can get before they begin their march. She lets out a sigh, inhaling in a scent that's familiar and makes her feel safe.

She snuggles closer, and falls back asleep.

The summer sun beats down on their heads, the thick furs and heavy armours of the Faerghan army unsuited for this weather. They're hidden just out of sight only a little ways away from Fort Merceus' front entrance, awaiting a signal that the Alliance army's ally will give to begin their attack. Her gaze looks to the sky, a shining and pure blue that almost feels hopeful.

Her hand brushes against Echo's muzzle, her new armour glimmering faintly white-silver under the sunshine. Lilia takes a deep breath. This is going to be a turning point in the war; no longer will they be fighting in their own countries. They're headed into the heart of the beast.

She clasps her hands in a momentary prayer. She doesn't know if the Goddess can hear her, considering she's fused with the Professor, but... it provides a comfort, nonetheless. Perhaps the Goddess can see and hear through the Professor's eyes and ears, and watches them from within. It's a nice thought.

They have the Goddess— they have the Professor on their side.

hi gang! i had fun writing this chapter C:
all the lil threads are beginning to come together :relieved:

next chapter is going to be a very special chapter ! please look forward to it!
im excited to get to writing it !

guest: i always love yr reviews! im so glad u think they are cute :pleading_face:
and yeah, from a gameplay standpoint it makes sense,
but i try to make this word feel a little more Real in my writing! if that makes sense LMAO

i hope you all enjoyed ! thanks for reading!

POST UPLOAD EDIT: i forgot to mention! lilia has learned the spell excalibur!
she actually learned it last chapter but i have the memory of a goldfish :skull:
anyway! thanks again for reading my shit!