Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem Three Houses, all rights to the owners.

This story isn't so far along that I can't incorporate Abyss and the Wolves a bit, right? Right. Cool.


"This is a terrible idea." Hilda grumbles, glancing at the rising moon. "Why am I here? You could be sleeping. I could be sleeping."

"Because I can't lift boulders over my head like they're pebbles." Claude says cheerily. "Mind lifting these?"

"It's a wall Claude. I'm not going to destroy a wall for no reason." The wall in question is the wall supporting the stairs to the Sauna.

"Not just a wall." Claude chuckles. "Trust me. Pull out the loose rocks."

Hilda sighs, cracks her knuckles, and grabs two of the large blocks of stone out of the wall and effortless tosses them aside. She can instantly see what Claude is talking about. There's a hole in the wall behind the well-placed stones.

"When did you discover this?" Hilda mutters as she pulls the rest of the stones out of the way. She glances around them, making sure no guards are around or that Professor Eisner hasn't stuck his head out his door and spotted them. After all, they're less than a dozen meters away from his room. "How did no one else discover this?"

"It's not obvious when you look at it." Claude shrugs. "And it would have to be well-hidden, this isn't exactly an inconspicuous spot. I think this passage was in use when the dormitories used to be over where the knight halls are and this area was undeveloped. A few hundred years ago if my research is right."

"You know Garreg Mach's construction history?"

"Hanneman knows Garreg Mach's construction history." Claude corrects as he ducks into the tunnel. "I only asked about this area in particular after I spotted the tunnel. Drag the stones in behind us by the way. Make it look like something collapsed. You can just shove them out of the way as we leave."

Hilda grumbles about the work, but complies. "How did you spot the tunnel? You can barely see it behind the rocks. Heck, you can lean against the rocks and they won't give."

"I was creeping around one night-"

"Of course you were."

"-and I saw a light flicker from between two of the stones." Claude says in a whisper. "It was only for a moment, but that's how I noticed there was a space behind here. Of course, I couldn't get in here by myself without taking a lot of time and making a lot of noise. Hence you."

"And here I thought you wanted backup. No, you just want muscle." Hilda grumbles.

"Hey, backup is nice... except that I'd rather not put you in harm's way if I think something might actually be dangerous. This is my curiosity we're investigating here." The boy admits. "If I didn't need the rocks moved, I would have investigated myself and told you about it afterwards."

"Then you're an idiot." Hilda huffs. "Investigating a potential smuggler's route on your own with no hiding places? Without space to move around, you could get shanked and not be able to move out of the way Claude. Or you could turn a bend and be face-to-face with ten people."

"Good thing I needed your help then huh?"

Hilda glares at him. Or, well, at his forehead.

"You can't see, can you?" Claude realizes belatedly.

"Oh good, you do remember I'm not a dark elf like you." She snarks.

"Half dark elf." Claude corrects in a mumble. "Shit, uh... hold my hand?"

"This is romantic to you? Weirdo."

"No, I mean, I'll lead you around." Claude groans. "Just... keep your head ducked, okay?"

Hilda grumbles something about how she should have stayed in her room, but grabs his hand when he taps his fingers against hers. Despite what her immense strength would suggest, her palms aren't all that calloused. Maybe it's because her skin is naturally durable, and she doesn't exert her huge strength on a regular basis, so her body never needs to respond with building up callouses.

That's Claude's theory anyways.

Leading Hilda around by the hand wasn't part of his plan, and it slows them down a bit, but while the tunnel is old and dusty it thankfully doesn't seem to be damaged and the floor is relatively flat, so Hilda rarely stumbles despite her lack of sight.

The tunnel is short, only taking about ten minutes to traverse even at their reduced speed. Claude meets a dead end, blocked by a combination of wood, stone blocks, and dirt.

"Huh."

"What?"

"Dead end." Claude says. "But there's stone blocks here and wooden planks, like a collapsed building blocked it off rather than a cave-in."

"We're underground, right? Why would there be buildings down here?"

"I wonder..." Claude muses. "Aren't there rumors around campus of an underground something-or-other?"

"The Abyss?"

"Yeah, that."

"Yeah. Holst mentioned it to me before I left for here. I figured it was just another baseless rumor, like how the sauna supposedly changes location every year but the staff all deny that it's ever been relocated."

"Really? That's a rumor?"

"Back in my brother's time it was. Not so much now." Hilda shrugs. "So what do we do? Are we going to dig out the rubble?"

"Hmm..." Claude considers it for a second, then shakes his head. "Not tonight. We have no idea how long it could take. We'll come back with shovels or something... or maybe just gauntlets so you don't hurt your hands while punching through it or something. That would probably be faster anyways."

"Manual labour, yay." Hilda says dryly. "Can we go now if we're done?"

"Fine, fine. Let's move." Claude sighs.

It takes longer for them to get back to the entrance because Hilda has to lead (and even if Claude could squeeze to the other side, the entrance is blocked and Hilda has to be the one to push everything out of the way.

"How did you see a light if this thing is all blocked up?" Hilda asks curiously. "How would someone have gotten in and out without disturbing the stones and being noticed? We only got through the wall so quick because I'm stupidly strong."

"That's... huh. Good question." Claude frowns. "I saw the light only a week ago. Unless the collapse happened literally within the last week, I don't know what it could have been. That is weird."

That's something to scribble down in his notebook when he gets back to his room. This whole expedition, short as it is, has been immensely interesting.

###

Claude blinks awake. He yawns, stretches, then freezes. He stares at the outdoor clothes he's wearing, and the shoes still on his feet.

He's in his bed.

"Okay..." Claude mumbles and forces down a flash of panic. "Ooooookay..."

He pats himself down, checking for injuries. He finds none. He feels exhausted though, which is unusual because last night he... he...

Uh...

He had dinner and then... then he...

...

What did he do?

He clumsily checks through his pockets, pulling out his various daggers, a spare quill and single sheet of parchment, and his room key. That's fairly standard for him to have on his person. No coin pouch, so he wasn't buying anything, and he didn't have his notebook so he must not have been visiting Hilda for a late-night talk.

Hilda, Hilda! Maybe he told her what he was doing beforehand. He hopes he did, because this random exhaustion and lack of memory is an obvious case of what's been happening to Ignatz and the others. Maybe this is a clue!

His enthusiasm is a bit tampered by his sheer tiredness. "So this is what it feels like for the others huh? Geeze, this is a pain... at least it gets better after a few hours."

Claude may be tired, but to be honest it's a pleasant sort of tired. It's a comfortable drowsiness that is really inviting Claude to just go back to sleep... not that it reduces his panic all that much, unfortunately.

"No, no, gotta stay awake." Claude fumbles his way through a change of clothes and grabs his school supplies. "What time-? Sunup? I have time to visit Hilda before class then."

He staggers out of his room. Thankfully the hall is empty, so he can lurch his way to Hilda's room without anyone noticing him and thinking he's drunk. He knocks, and it takes a minute for a tired, annoyed Hilda to answer. Her hair is pulled into a quick ponytail instead of her usual pigtails, and she doesn't have any makeup on. "Whaaaat? It's early Claude..."

"Got blackout, can't remember." Claude says in a rush. "Memory gone, last night. Like Ignatz."

Hilda blinks. "Ah." She opens her door. "Come in then, I guess."

Claude does so, and quickly sits down in her chair while Hilda lets her hair down and rubs sleep from her eyes. Claude takes a moment to try and gather his frantic thoughts through his sleepy brain. "I... Hilda, what was I doing last night?"

The girl shrugs. "I dunno, you didn't tell me. You just said you were going to be 'figuring something out'."

"Shit, okay..." Claude mutters, putting his head in his hands. "Oooookay..."

"Hey, you're fine." Hilda murmurs, picking up on some of his distress. "It's not dangerous, remember? Ignatz has always been fine after it."

"Right, right..." Claude forces out a breath. "Okay..."

"Why do you have your bag?"

"Class."

"Claude, it's Saturday."

"Oh." Claude blinks. He leans back in the chair and lets his bag drop to the floor. "Oh..."

"You're really out of it, aren't you?"

"If I didn't feel so tired, I'd probably be panicking." Claude admits outright. "Actually, scratch that, I think I'm still panicking."

"This seems like a small thing to panic about." Hilda notes. "Considering what else you've dealt with before."

"Does it? Haa..." Claude breathes out deeply, trying to force himself to relax. "I guess it is." And logically, Hilda is right. They've already established that the victim of the blackout isn't in any real danger, but now Claude can see why the victims are always so freaked out about it. Outright losing a part of your memory like that, even a small part, is terrifying. Especially when you know it's not because of being drunk but because of some unknown predator... probably.

On one hand this is scary, on the other hand...

"This is kinda cool in a roundabout sort of way."

"That sounds more like you." Hilda snorts.

"Hey, am I not allowed to be in distress?" Claude pouts. "You're terrible at comfort Hilda!"

"Am I?" She says with a lazy smirk as she reclines in her bed. "What did you expect me to do?"

"I don't know. Words of reassurance, a hug, buy me lunch, not indifference?" Claude suggests. He's starting to feel a bit better as he settles back into their usual over-dramatic banter. "Hilda! I am your number one, you best bud, and yet you forsake me in my time of need?!"

"You're always in a time of need." She snorts, and sits up. Her hair, tangled and messy, falls across her face like a pink waterfall. "Are we forgetting how I came with you down that weird tunnel, or how I help you dig up information on people, or how I let you lie on me all day when you were tired and let you copy my notes, or how I stayed around you when you were sick?"

"Oh, uh..." Claude winces. "Maybe I do ask a bit too much from her."

He's always known that he leans on Hilda quite a bit for help, but he never really considered how much she does for him on a daily basis.

"Oh don't look so self-disgusted." Hilda snorts again. She stretches and stands up from the bed. "It really doesn't suit you."

"Really?" Claude forces a grin. "You say that like you're not tired of dealing me with on a daily basis."

"If I was, I would have stopped putting up with you months ago." The girl replies bluntly. She's now standing directly in front of him.

"Oh come on, you're a lot more tolerant than you pretend to be." Claude laughs weakly. "Don't try and tell me that-"

He's abruptly cut off by Hilda wrapping her hands around his head and back and pulling him into a tight hug. "Geeze, you're more rattled than I thought you'd be." She murmurs softly. Her eyes gaze down at him with something Claude suspects is either pity or concern. "Your hands are still shaking."

Claude hadn't noticed that. Now that she points it out, he can indeed feel his hands shaking as his fingers tightly grip the arms of the chair he's sitting in. "Huh, I didn't realize that. This shouldn't be scary for me, I've dealt with far more dangerous things before. I know logically this isn't something to worry about." He mumbles.

"But you're still nervous." Hilda states it as a fact, not a question.

"I guess I am." Claude sighs. "I really shouldn't be though. It's annoying."

"Hmm..." Hilda hums in understanding. She rubs the back of his head reassuringly. Claude flushes in embarrassment. That's the sort of thing one would do to comfort a child. It does feel nice though.

It's been years since anyone has reassured Claude like this... or since he's gotten a hug at all. Only half thinking through what he's doing, Claude reaches up and reciprocates the hug by wrapping his arms around Hilda's waist as tightly as he can. Hilda pats him on the back and continues to speak in a murmur.

"You going to be alright?"

"Yes." He mumbles in return. "Just being selfish now."

"Oh?"

"Been a while since I've gotten a hug. Feels nice." Well, except the small, paranoid part of his brain yelling at him that he should absolutely not be allowing the girl who can crush concrete with her bare hands any grasp of his body whatsoever, but he's ignoring that part of his brain right now.

He's half expecting Hilda to laugh at such a childish admission. Instead, she kneels on the chair with her legs around his hips and pulls his body even more tightly against hers. "Like this?"

"Yeah." Claude's face is now firmly mashed into her breasts, which muffles his voice a bit. Another small part of him is cheering at such contact, and he suppresses that part with just as much violence as he does his paranoia. "Thanks, and sorry."

"Sorry? For being worried and wanting reassurance?" Hilda scoffs. "You're an idiot Claude."

That's the first time she's called him an idiot for something other than presenting a scheme to her. He'll consider that a victory... after he can get his heart rate down.

Claude absently thinks to himself about how he doesn't deserve Hilda. She's smart, powerful, and very tolerant of his bullshit (and she's attractive, but that's just a pleasant extra). How many other people would actually do this for a friend? He can't think of many.

When he finally relaxes a bit bit, Hilda raises an eyebrow. "Better?"

"Yeah." He nods weakly. "Thanks Hilda."

"No problem." She murmurs. "You want to stay?"

Claude doesn't audibly respond. His answer comes by way of a renewed grip around her waist. A laugh bubbles out of Hilda's throat. Not a mocking one. One that's amused and affectionate.

Claude is still feeling sleepy as a side-effect of the... attack? Is that what they're calling it? Whatever. The attack. Point is, he feels tired, and Hilda must notice, because at some point she plucks him out of the chair and moves both of them to the bed.

He falls asleep at some point, still clinging to Hilda as he does so.

###

Claude wakes up with a similar level of panic as to what he had last time after realizing he had a blank in his memory. He can't move one arm, there's a weight pressing against him, and his vision is obscured by a cloth of some sort. His free hand scrambles for the dagger he keeps under his pillow only to find nothing. That's bad, he needs to-

He hears a yawn, and the weight on him shifts. A leg curls around his waist and a strong pair of arms pull him against the other form more firmly.

"Right, it's Hilda." Claude reminds himself, and relaxes the tension in his body. "False alarm."

It's a weird feeling to wake up with someone else. Not bad, just... weird. And it would definitely take some getting used to. Claude is glad there wasn't a dagger under the pillow. Not that he would have used it without verifying he was actually in danger, but... still better he doesn't have a weapon on hand.

Claude doesn't know how long he slept for, but the exhaustion that was the after-effect of the attack seems to have mostly worn off. It must be getting close to noon.

"I hope I didn't make any plans last night that I forgot." Claude thinks absently. "I also hope no one peered in through the window while we were sleeping, or there's going to be some juicy gossip flying around."

Then again, half the student population already thinks he and Hilda are dating, so a rumor that they've slept together won't be that much of a change. Seteth might hunt them down for it though, and what is Claude supposed to tell him? "Sorry, I was having a mild panic attack and the solution was to crawl into bed with her. I promise nothing happened though!"

Yeah, that'll go over well.

Now that he's calmed himself down, Claude feels a lot better and starts to logically process what happened. The last thing he remember last night was going to dinner with Hilda. He remembers wanting to talk to her about plans to excavate that tunnel, as well as... something else he can't remember. He thinks he finalized the plans for the tunnel, but he can't remember for the life of him if he made plans for the other thing.

"Hilda doesn't remember me talking about any other plans." He reminds himself. "Maybe I was subtly figuring out her opinion on something without telling her outright?"

He doesn't tell Hilda all his movements after all. Though after last night he's seriously considering it; if just to have someone who has an idea what he was doing if he goes missing.

What's weirder is that he can remember musing over plans for the tunnel all day, but his plans for the other thing are all blurry. It's like specific memories were targeted, along with a blanket memory wipe on the time just after dinner.

He'll have to ask Hilda when she wakes up.

Claude remembers the other side-effect of being a victim of this particular attack. A general feeling of contentment and positivity is pooling in his stomach like he just ate a nice warm meal. It's a nice contrast to the disoriented panic he was dealing with not... uh... how many hours ago?

How long has he been asleep for? How can Hilda stand to sleep for-?

"Stupid question." Claude reminds himself. "That's kinda what her species is known for: supreme power, but also extreme egos and extreme laziness."

That's just the stereotype though. From what Claude can tell, the 'extreme egos' thing was cultural and a result of upbringing, and isn't as much a thing as it used to be. The reluctance to use their power stems from the fact that it takes a lot of energy. That's actually part of why Hilda is so "lazy". It genuinely takes a lot of effort for her to pull off her insane feats of strength, and between eating a lot and resting a lot to regain energy Hilda prefers the latter.

"Because it doesn't make me look like a pig, or Raphael." She had explained in a huff.

Not that she doesn't eat more than most people, just not as much as she could if she decided she didn't need to sleep so much.

Claude experimentally tries to twist his head so he can see a window or something, but all he gets is a view of either the pillow or the ceiling. He's going to have to wiggle out of her grasp if he wants to check the time.

"Or I could just wake her up." He muses. "Or just do nothing. This isn't so unpleasant. I don't think I had a plan for today. Not an official one at least. Hmm... maybe I should take Hilda out shopping again or something. How many favors do I owe her by this point? Maybe I should just sell my soul to her and call it even."

Hilda wakes up about half an hour later, and gleefully accepts Claude's offer of a shopping day. Despite his offer to pay for all of it, she only has him pay for a few inconsequential things while purchasing the bulk of her prizes herself. She wants him along more for company than anything else.

Claude tries not to think of Holst's potential reaction should he ever learn about that morning.

###

"Claude, I need your help with something."

"Sure, shoot." Claude says instantly. He owes Hilda too many favors to say anything else. "What do you need?"

"Do you know where to get some blackleaf?"

Claude's drama senses immediately perk up, as do his ears. "Blackleaf? Sure. But... why would you need blackleaf Hilda? Is there something you're not telling me about? Or someone?"

She makes a face. "Ha ha, no. My brother and parents wants some to try and make some tea they've heard of that needs it as an ingredient. Blackleaf doesn't grow naturally in Goneril territory."

"They can't get any from merchants?"

"The only merchants that sell blackleaf in our territory tend to be Almyran, or have a reputation of being untrustworthy, so my family won't purchase from them for obvious reasons." Her flat, unimpressed expression tells him exactly what she thinks of that. "So they send me a letter going 'oh, Hilda, be a dear and find us a crate-load of high quality blackleaf, will you?'. Yeah, like I'm going to know a 'high quality' leaf from a normal one."

Claude shakes his head. "Do they even know what blackleaf is? It's super bitter, and doesn't make for great tea most of the time. The point of the tea isn't the taste, it's the other thing it's known for. Besides, it has medicinal properties, are you sure they don't have any on hand already? It's not that uncommon."

Hilda throws up her hands. "Hell if I know! They asked me for some, that's all I know about it! Maybe it's just an excuse to get me to send them something so they can give me some inane gift in return as 'thanks'. I know Holst would send me things all the time if I hadn't explicitly told him not to."

"Oh no, a gift, how horrible."

"You say that, but do you want a bunch of tacky hair accessories from someone who has no idea how fashion works? No thanks." Hilda complains. "The last one Holst sent me was this gaudy bejewelled orange hairpin. Orange Claude. I have a color scheme here!"

"Fine, fine." Claude chuckles with a role of his eyes. "Blackleaf huh? I bet we can ask Anna for some. She sells everything."

"We're supposed to find a trustworthy source."

"How rude! You'd break her rich, gold-plated heart if she heard you."

"Yeah, then she's make a big show of how offended she is for me doubting her, and immediately offer me a deal as soon as I apologize." Hilda grumbles. "No Annas."

"Fine, make the job harder why don't you?" Claude chuckles. "I'm sure we can find someone without much effort. This is a school full of horny teenagers, it'd be a massive lost business opportunity not to sell blackleaf here."

"Excuse you, I'm eighteen. You're a teenager." Hilda reminds him. She sticks out her tongue. "Respect your elders."

"Fine, horny teenagers and young adults. Happy, Miss?" Claude mocks.

"Don't give me attitude, kid." Hilda shoots back.

###

Claude flips through his notebook. He carefully scrutinizes the entries from the last few days. Lots of stuff about the tunnel, a few questions to ask Hanneman... and a lot of frantic scribbling about the attacks.

There's a pattern, happens once a week, always Friday or Saturday night. Ignatz, then someone else, then Ignatz again. It's consistent. Someone is targeting Ignatz, but only every other week so it's not obvious.

Last week it was Lorenz. This week should be Ignatz again. Take advantage.

Read up on feeding species. Vampires are biweekly, so too infrequent (unless there are other attacks we don't know about). Some types of poltergeist leech soul energy from people, but tend to not be very subtle, don't usually deal in coordinated blackouts, and their attacks don't have positive after-effects.

Kitsune (of the magical, non beast stone kind. Apparently the beast stone kind are technically just fox taguel who mistakenly got called kitsune because they look similar in human form and the term stuck), are known to sometimes attack people for soul energy too, and certainly have the magical capabilities to both disguise their presence and deal in memory-altering spells.

Seems inefficient to go after Ignatz though, and to attack so infrequently. I have a hunch these attacks are out of necessity, and kitsune don't have to feed on soul energy if they don't want to.

There are a few other sorts of undead of the soul-eating variety, but again, the positive after-effects make them unlikely candidates. It's looking more and more like the last one I found: a succubus.

That's scary. I mean, all of the possibilities are kinda scary, but succubi can be a whole new level of nasty if they feel like it. Mind control, emotion control, energy siphoning, memory manipulation... and it's all effortless for them. As long as they have physical contact, even the smallest amount, you're under their control and you just have to pray to whatever god you believe in that they don't decide it would be fun to mind-control you into slaughtering an orphanage or something (and not only that, they could make you enjoy slaughtering the orphanage because they can emotion control alongside mind control).

So yeah, we might have one of the scariest species alive in the monastery. Maybe see about getting an anti-charm amulet... for all the good it would do. Would have to be a damn powerful amulet to make any real difference.

While his notes don't say it outright, Claude suspects he knows what happened that night he lost some of his memories. He must have been following Ignatz, and instead of Ignatz getting attacked it was him, maybe because whoever it was noticed he was following and decided to pick on him this time.

On one hand, he's not dead, which is a very real possibility when running into a succubus. On the other hand, now that succubus probably knows he's looking out for them, and might be even more sneaky to compensate for it.

"Should I even try to catch her next cycle? Maybe I should bring backup..." Claude muses. "What backup could I possibly bring aside from Hilda though? Hilda would only be so helpful. She's no more charm immune than I am."

What would he do if he could find out who the succubus is anyways? Get them expelled? Would that even benefit him? He's already concluded that they're probably feeding out of necessity, getting them expelled would be needlessly cruel.

"I guess I just want to know for the sake of knowing." Claude concludes. "Better to know potential power players in advance. They could be a powerful ally, or a dangerous foe. I need to keep a close eye on them either way."

You know, assuming he can figure out who it is. You think someone with charm abilities that powerful, that they can't turn off no less, would be rather noticeable.

"Maybe they have an inhibitor?" Claude considers. "A spell or an enchanted pendant or-"

He stops short as a thought crosses his mind.

"An enchanted necklace perhaps? A weekly cycle of looking progressively more tired until she feeds on the weekend, usually on Ignatz who is both an easy target and rather nice to her on a regular basis? The same person she tends to stare at near the end of the week when she's hungry? Yeah, that would make sense."

He writes the girl's name is large letters, so even if he loses his memory again he'll be able to look and see who it is, and stares at the name in disbelief.

"But Marianne of all people?" He mutters. "What the heck am I supposed to do about that?"


The big reveal? Well, I guess it's not that big. If you're thinking "wow, you're being awful to poor Marianne, piling on more stress when she already has a cursed crest and all", you're absolutely right. I'm a terrible person, and I love it.

Fun fact (or maybe just a fact, depends on how much you care), the original plan for this story had Mercedes and Marianne's quirks switched. Mercedes was originally planned to be very open about the fact that she's a succubus, and offer free cuddles as a mutually beneficial way for her to feed and for the recipient to get an all-around mood boost. I still that's an adorable idea, and I am considering making a one-shot about it at some point.