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

Here's the Rite of Rebirth chapter. Fight scenes are not my forte, but I'll give it my best shot.


Just from looking at the stairway Claude can tell the catacombs are more ancient than the cathedral above them. Even from Claude's limited knowledge of historical architecture he can recognize that these patterns are from a time before the founding of the Empire.

He can think about the mysteries of the really old catacombs another time though, preferably after the thieves are dead.

The group tries to be quiet as they descend the stairs, but Claude was not particularly quiet about calling for his teammates nor can Dedue reduce the sound of his heavy armor all that much, so Claude expects that the thieves know they're coming.

With the end of the stairs in sight Dedue pulls out his shield and puts on his helmet. Everyone else readies their weapons and spells appropriately.

To Claude's surprise, they are not met with a barrage of spells upon stepping off the last stair. The intruders are spread out among the entirety of the room, investigating various items and pictures on the walls. How curious that they don't even know where their target actually is. They really should be moving faster than this too. How unprofessional.

Most of the thieves are mindlessly looking around, but there is one individual in particular who worries Claude, mostly because he never saw them go down the stairs. The man has a horse (that Claude also never saw go down the stairs), and he's decked out in black plate armor and has an imposing scythe lying across the back of his mount.

That black knight had to have teleported into this place. Everyone else doesn't seem overly dangerous, but that knight worries him. The knight is also the only one who's actually noticed them

"Steer clear of the knight." Byleth instructs in a whisper. "He's dangerous. I'll handle him, unless you have a complaint Claude?"

"Nope. Be my guest." That solves the question of how the knight will be dealt with. If the Demon can handle him, that works for Claude. "Split up into two groups. Dedue, Petra, Hubert, and Marianne on one side, Mercedes, Hilda, Me, and Lysithea on the other. Each group takes one side of the room, staying clear of the knight in the center. Hubert, you're in charge of your group. Sorry Mercedes, you're going to have to frontline."

"That's quite alright…" She murmurs.

At this point, one of the thieves actually notices them at the base of the stairs. His voice, shrill and frantic, cries out: "We've been spotted! Students!"

"Buy me time!" A mage at the far end of the room shouts. "Death Knight, prove your worth and deal with them!"

The black knight, or Death Knight as he's apparently known, responds in a low growl that is distorted either by his helmet or magic. "I do not take orders from you. These weaklings are not worth my time. If you cannot defeat them yourselves, you do not deserve a victory."

With that worrying line said, the students attack. Mercedes leads the charge on Claude's side. Well, "charge" is probably a bit of an exaggeration. Mercedes is slow, because she's mostly liquid… slime… gel… something.

Point is, Mercedes leads, and boy does that simplify things. Apparently none of these intruders actually know how to deal with oozes, because despite the fact that it's clearly not doing anything they keep throwing fire, arrows, light magic, and blades at her and she keeps absorbing all the hits (and dissolving anything solid that enters her) with a calm smile on her face.

Hilda doesn't have to do much thanks to Mercedes. She occasionally grabs a rock to throw through someone's skull at speeds rivalling an arrow, but with Mercedes up in front she doesn't have much need to swing her hammer. Mercedes dissolves any fool stupid enough to get close to them anyways.

Lysithea is a maniac. She hurls a nearly unending stream of dark magic spells with a ferocity that really doesn't fit this serious but not desperate situation. Claude suspects she just doesn't have much of a chance to let loose and is taking full advantage of this opportunity.

Claude himself focuses on the mages. The situation isn't too dangerous in his mind. The intruders, Death Knight aside, are not too skilled, so the mages are the second biggest threat. He was expecting this to be much more of an issue considering the not inconsiderable setup there must have been for this operation, but these thieves are really not a challenge.

Across the room Hubert's group is also doing fine. Dedue doesn't take magic as well as Mercedes does, but Marianne is there to heal him up and both Hubert and Petra know to deal with the mages first so they're making fine progress.

The main point of worry is Byleth and the Death Knight. The two of them control the center of the room, and no one on either side dares get close. The Death Knight has many advantages that worry Claude. He has a mount, he has a long reach weapon, and he has armor. Byleth has a steel sword, no armor at all, and no mount. Despite that, Byleth is leveraging the advantages he does have: dexterity and acrobatics.

Dexterity and not speed mind you. Byleth is precise to an incredible degree, and makes good use of his surroundings. If the Death Knight charges, Byleth puts a pillar or a sarcophagus in between them. If the Death Knight slows down, Byleth vaults off those same pillars and sarcophagi to close the distance and throw a flurry of precise strikes towards the eye slits of the knight's helmet. Sometimes Byleth stays as close as possible to the knight to stay inside the reach of the knight's weapon, forcing the knight to gallop away or make an awkward strike with the handle of his scythe

Byleth also apparently has a dozen daggers on his person at all times, because he seems to pull them out of thin air every once in a while to chuck at the knight.

Still, considering the students are winning the sides the fight should have been over quickly. It would have been over quickly if it weren't for a certain mage at the back of the room.

"Yes! It's… what is this?" The mage's voice shouts, then grows quieter. "A sword…?"

Claude glances at the mage and nearly chokes on his own spit. There, in the mage's hands, being held daintily away from his body like it's some undesirable piece of rotten meat, is the Sword of the Creator. That thing has been thought lost for centuries, and here it is just underneath the monastery! Speaking of which… "Get that sword before they teleport away!" Claude shouts. "Petra!"

"I have understanding!" The girl shouts back. He can see her leap high in the air and push off a pillar at the height of her jump, sending her soaring over her opponents to land near the mage. The mage hastily brings up the sword in defence of himself as Petra lashes out with her own blade. The skill disparity is massive, so it's no surprise when Petra lands a hit on the mage's leg and the mage crumples to the floor.

That's not the end of the matter though. The mage continues to swing the Sword of the Creator, and something horrific happens. The dull bone weapon starts to shudder, and black goop seeps out from the hole in the hilt onto the mage's hand and starts engulphing his whole body a moment later. The man's horrific screams bring the whole room to a halt, even Byleth and the Death Knight, and everyone watches the man's body be consumed by the goop.

It doesn't stop there. The goop bulges and swells, and Petra has to scramble back to avoid the writhing mass. The goop then solidifies into something that looks like feet, claws, a long mouth, and scales.

A reptilian monstrosity stands before all of them. It's twice the size of a standard demonic beast with empty, unseeing eye sockets, grotesquely elongated arms with claws the size of a sword that drag along the ground, a mouth that resembles a crocodile's filled with a hundred sharp teeth and black saliva that emits a noxious odor (Claude suspects a toxin of some sort), and one gaunt wing that sticks out of it's back just below the neck. It looks like someone combined a crocodile and an iguana, blew it up to the size of a small house, and then stuck a single malnourished wyvern wing on it's back.

"Ahh…" The Death Knight breathes, breaking the stunned silence. "How promising. Maybe this will be an appropriate challenge…"

The knight then ignores Byleth entirely in favor of staring down the newly-made monster. He raises a hand at the beast, then (to Claude's surprise) fires off a thunder spell at the thing. The damage is negligible, but Claude suspects the spell was purely to goad it into fighting.

The monster roars. It's a raspy, gurgling, unnatural sound. It's like hearing a thousand people laughing while choking on blood all at once. Despite the fact that it can't see, the thing stomps directly towards the Death Knight, and even swipes a claw directly at him. Apparently it doesn't need sight to fight.

All the thieves are now cowering in the corners of the room, totally unprepared for the turn this battle has taken. Claude will admit he doesn't have much of an idea on what to do either. This wasn't exactly something he was prepared for.

Byleth, on the other hand, apparently is totally ready for this and starts barking orders. "Everyone, surround it! Attack from all sides and someone will inevitably hit a weak spot!"

It's a hasty plan, but it makes sense. They know nothing about this creature, but if they rain enough attacks down on it one of them will hit something important eventually.

"No... you will all stay out of my way!" The Death Knight warns. "Interfere, and I will be forced to deal with you."

"You can try." Byleth says curtly. "Or, you can cooperate, or you can leave. I don't have time for your tantrum."

If the situation weren't so serious Claude might laugh. He's not sure if calling the Death Knight's "I must fight the most dangerous thing around in single combat!" shtick a tantrum is totally accurate or a massive misrepresentation.

"I care not for your wants…" The Death Knight growls. He dodges a claw swipe, then a bite, and responds with a large slash to the monster's arm.

"Then get out." Byleth orders. "Shoo."

The Death Knight responds to that dismissal by trying to backhand Byleth with his scythe without even looking at him, and Byleth responds by calmly side-stepping the attack and jabbing his sword into the knight's horse's leg, sending both the rider and the mount sprawling to the ground.

"As I was saying." Byleth says, now standing over the prone knight. He kicks the scythe away from the man's grasping hands. "Shoo. Also, watch your back when you fight. You have tunnel vision."

The knight responds with an inelegant growl, and then grabs something in his pocket and vanishes from sight along with his horse.

With that problem out of the way, everyone can focus on the monster. Even when surrounding the thing it's still a menace. Mercedes attempts to hold the monster's attention, and attempts to engulf the monster's head so she can dissolve it, but any grip she tries to get on the monster ends with it violently swinging its head and sending pieces of Mercedes flying around the room.

Good thing she's an ooze and can just pull herself back together, but Claude would really have preferred if Mercedes could just consume this monster and be done with it.

Claude also finds out very quickly what the poison does when Dedue takes a bite that manages to go through his armor. Dedue's movements quickly slow down though, and he says. "I cannot feel my chest anymore, and it is difficult to move my arms. I fear I must retreat."

It's not a hard deduction to make on what the saliva does. "Everyone, the saliva inflicts paralysis! Avoid getting bit!"

That's easier said than done. Sure, maybe Petra and Byleth can dodge like champions, but Hilda does one thing and one thing only: she hits hard. She doesn't dodge, she doesn't block, she just smashes things.

Giving Hilda an opportunity to smash the monster is Claude's prime goal at the moment. Everyone's spells and arrows are doing something, but it's slow, and every second this thing isn't dead is another second that it's stomping around the room biting and clawing and whipping its tail. It seems to particularly dislike Lysithea, and consistently follows the path of her spells to try and strike at the girl.

Hilda does manage to get her attack off though. Claude orders Lysithea on a path that leads the monster right past Hilda, and the girl takes the opportunity to take a mighty overhead swing and smashes her hammer directly into the monster's side.

Scales break and bones snap under the force of her swing, and the monster collapses with a giant dent in the side of its body. Everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief, and Hilda retracts her gore-covered hammer with a smug grin. "Problem solved!" She looks to Claude. "Can we go now? It's dusty down here."

Claude nods. "We have to escort the thieves up of course, but-" Claude's eyes widen when he sees the monster's head twitch and turn. Nothing has ever survived a hit from Hilda before. He's also acutely aware that since Hilda hasn't moved away, the monster is absolutely in range to bite her.

Maybe he shouts a warning, but he can't remember. He's moving before he really processes what he's doing. All he knows is that Hilda is looking oddly at him one moment, and he's pushing her aside while giant teeth bite into his chest.

"I really hope I survive this." Claude thinks absently. He can hear shouting and see the flash of spells as he's lifted into the air by the monster. He can't feel any part of his body, and his vision is fading. "Apparently friends get you killed in Fodlan too, just instead of being backstabbed you get eaten by giant reptiles..."

###

Ignatz would have thought that Cyril would have been kept out of the whole protection plan. As young as the students are, Cyril is even younger. Rather than keeping him away from potential danger though, Shamir has apparently assigned Cyril to be Rhea's bodyguard which is about as close to the action as possible considering this involves potential assassins.

Yes, he knows that the assassination plot is probably a distraction, but there's still a chance that the assassination plot is real, and if it is real then Cyril is being put in more danger!

Ignatz quietly brings this up to Shamir, who is also responsible for Rhea's protection, and the assassin just smirks. "Don't worry about it. Cyril is in the safest place he can possibly be right now."

"He's right next to the person people might be attacking!"

"I know."

"But-"

"He's next to Rhea, which means he's in the center of all our defences." Shamir reminds him. "The students, the knights, Jeralt's mercenaries, the guards. Rhea's at the center of all of them, and by extension so is Cyril. If we hadn't let him help, he would have snuck out to help anyways, so this is the best choice."

Well, when she puts it like that Ignatz really can't argue.

"Besides." Shamir mutters under her breath. It's quiet enough that Ignatz isn't sure he's even meant to hear it. "There's no way Rhea will let anything happen to him…"

All things considered, protecting Rhea seems like an easy assignment to Ignatz. Like Shamir said, the knights and Jeralt's mercenaries are here, so the students are just redundant protection. The eagles got the easy assignment apparently. They don't get to participate in the feast which is unfortunate, but all things considered it's not a bad mission. They're not expecting assassins anyways.

Not expecting any. That doesn't mean some don't arrive anyways. Apparently the obvious letter was telling the truth. The Eagles really didn't have any way of realizing the assassins were there. They come in with the crowd and look like any other faithful pilgrim. When Rhea steps forward to speak to the crowd flanked by Cyril and Catherine, the assassins strike.

Ignatz can't tell exactly how many assassins are actually here with how the crowd suddenly starts running in all directions. People scream, weapons are drawn all around, and the gardens devolve into chaos. Ignatz along with Bernadetta and Dorothea is stationed on the roof of the dining hall so he can shoot down onto targets, but there are so many people in such a tight space he can't risk shooting an arrow for fear of hitting someone innocent.

He does get a good look at exactly what Shamir was talking about earlier though. When an assassin manages to slip by Catherine and approach Rhea, it's not Cyril that takes him down. Cyril tries to step forward, he has his axe out and a fierce snarl on his face, but Rhea steps in front of the boy with sword and shield drawn and eliminates the assassin in a single strike. This happens more than one. Every time Cyril tries to fight someone Rhea herself intervenes to eliminate the threat.

At one point Rhea even grabs Cyril by the collar like a mother cat grabbing a kitten and hauls him behind her so she can deal with the danger. Cyril's frustration is visible as he's consistently denied the opportunity to help, and he's even being protected by the person he's ostensibly supposed to be protecting.

Rhea is also fascinating to watch. She flips between rage when fighting to calm fury when watching others fight to gentle concern when dealing with Cyril. It's like watching her switch between three personalities, often within the span of a few seconds each.

Ignatz feels bad that there isn't much he can do. He, Bernadetta and Dorothea really can't contribute to this fight because of all the civilians in the way. Shamir, usually an archer, is instead using a lance to fight for the same reason.

"I really need to learn another weapon." Ignatz decides silently. This is the second time he's been useless in a fight. He still remembers how he and Marianne got hunted down in the forest near Edmund when fighting those bandits, and missing one shot lead to him being almost totally helpless. "I need a melee weapon. A sword? A lance? An axe? Gauntlets? Probably not an axe…"

He can consider a new weapon once the fight is done. The crowd have mostly cleared out of the gardens, leaving only combatants behind. Most of the assassins might be dead, but there's still a few left, and Ignatz doesn't want to be completely useless so he draws his bow and starts shooting.

###

Claude is surprised he wakes up at all. He was honestly expecting to never wake up, or to wake up and see some afterlife. Pearly gates, blazing fires, something like that. He wasn't expecting to see the wooden roof of the infirmary, nor was he expecting someone to be leaning over him.

Even if he was expecting any of those things, he would also expect the person leaning over him to be Manuela, not Mercedes.

"Oh, you're awake." Mercedes says. She sounds surprised herself. Was she expecting him to die? "You weren't supposed to wake up for a few more days."

It's all Claude can do just to breathe. He can't feel any part of his body. He'd respond, but he can't make his voice work. Now that he thinks of it, he isn't really controlling his breathing either. When he tries to breath out, he can hear air going into his body.

It's at this point that Claude takes a proper look at his surroundings (as much as he can without being able to move his head). He's on a bed, and Mercedes is sitting next to him. He can't see if she's on a chair or something because his vision range doesn't stretch that far. Just at the bottom of his vision, on his face he thinks, is something cream-colored. Actually, judging by the way Mercedes is angling her arms, both of her hands are on his body somewhere. One hand seems to be over his mouth for some reason, and he can't see where the other is.

Also, Mercedes' "hair" is doing… something. It's swelling and contracting rhythmically, and Claude can't guess why.

"You took quite a hit." Mercedes murmurs. "Punctured lungs, heart injury, several broken bones, cracked skull, severe blood loss… you're very lucky you had two healers on hand."

Claude would agree or nod, but he can't. His body just won't listen. All he can do is blink dumbly at her.

"Your organs are healed up, but you still have a few broken bones." Mercedes says. "You're on the brink of mana sickness right now. We have to keep pulling mana out of your body so we can keep using more healing magic, and it's a very slow process."

Mana sickness is something Claude is familiar with in theory, if not in practice. The short version is that a human (or half-elf in this case) body can only accept so much mana being forced into before it becomes dangerous. This is not to be confused with someone's mana pool though. A mana pool is a store of mana in your body for use in spells. The mana pushed into your body when you are healed is not directed at your mana pool, the mana is pushed into your cells, and human bodies are not designed to contain mana that way. Small amounts are not an issue, one won't get mana sickness from healing a large cut or a single broken limb, but extensive healing jobs mean a lot of mana is used, and the body can't contain it well.

Minor mana sickness is evidenced by profuse sweating, vomiting, and defecating as the body tries to expel excess mana through that sweat, vomit, and feces. If more mana is forced in faster than the body can expel it, you move on to severe mana sickness in which the excess mana starts to damage your cells, and at the same time your cells start to reproduce rapidly to try and create more cells to contain all the mana. This results in rapid tumor growth on and inside the body which is almost always fatal. Even if you could stop the tumor growth, there is still the issue of your cells degenerating from the excess mana causing mass organ failure.

"In addition, the paralyzing saliva the creature had was very potent." Mercedes continues. "We're still trying to eliminate it from your body. That's why you're probably still numb at the moment."

Well that explains that.

"However… the paralysis has also extended to your major organs." Mercedes says. "Your heart and lungs are not working at the moment."

If Claude could move he would almost certainly be short of breath after hearing that. His heart isn't working? How is he even alive then!?

"Right now I'm using magic to manually pump your heart." Mercedes explains. "And I have one of my hands down your throat with a hollow center, and am using my hair to pump air into your lungs."

That's what her hair is doing? That rhythmic expanding and contracting is responsible for his breathing right now? Mercedes is manually operating his heart and lungs… ooh…

Claude feels faint, and he must look it too because Mercedes says a soft "sleep well" as Claude falls back into unconsciousness.

The next time he wakes up he's greeted by much the same sight. Mercedes is still sitting next to him with a hand over his mouth. Claude finds he can actually move a bit this time, and he can turn his head far enough to see the side-table next to his bed. On the table are a number of large bottles, some full and some empty, one of which Mercedes has a tentacle of her hair dipped into and is slowly draining.

"Awake again?" Mercedes hums. "How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

Claude doesn't feel pain, but he does feel… weird. He can now feel the tube going down his throat, and it's possibly the most uncomfortable thing he's ever experienced. Almost rivaling that discomfort though is how he can feel his uneven heartbeat as Mercedes forces it to pump blood through his body. He also can't really talk, so he slightly shakes his head instead.

"Good." The girl smiles. "You were out for a few days this time. The first time you were unconscious for a week."

So it's been a week and a half since the mission and he's still not healed? That monster must have really messed him up.

"I'm sure you'll be glad to know you're expected to be out of the infirmary by the end of the week. Your body is almost healed enough to operate on it's own, and we've nearly purged the paralyzing agent from your body." She reports. "We'll both be out of here soon!"

"Both?" Claude thinks. He can't say that because Mercedes has a hand down his throat, but his confused stare is question enough.

"I'm the only one who can operate your lungs like this." Mercedes explains. "And it's not safe to transfer control of your heart to someone else, even a few seconds of mismanagement could be catastrophic, so I've been here just as long as you have, making sure you survive." She uses a tentacle from her hair to motion to the side-table with the bottles. "I've been using a steady supply of mana potions to keep up my mana levels so I can keep pumping your heart. I'm the only healer that can do this because I don't need to sleep."

Claude doesn't know what to make of that information. Mercedes has been sitting at this bedside, performing the life-saving operation of keeping his vital organs working, without any sort of sleep. He doesn't even want to consider the insane focus that must take, nor how his life has literally been in her hands for a week and a half. He might owe Hilda a few minor debts, but how on Earth is he going to repay a debt of this magnitude?

"Your classmates have dropped by quite frequently." Mercedes says. "Hilda in particular has been here every day after class. She's made quite a few threats about what will happen when you get out, so be careful~!"

Claude would chuckle, but he holds himself back. That might not be a good idea considering his current situation.

"Oh, and I should tell you. We recovered the sword." Mercedes says cheerily. "The mission was successful! Professor Eisner got in a little bit of trouble for your injury, and the church is being bothered by your grandfather for it, but otherwise everything went well.

It figures his grandfather only cares about him if he's literally on his deathbed. Also, he wants to know what happened to the sword! Claude raises his hands and tries to mimic swinging a blade, though his arms are so weak and shaky that he's not sure if he got the message across or just looked like he was flailing around like a helpless kitten.

"The sword?" Mercedes asks. Claude nods in relief. "It was returned to its resting place. The archbishop said it was a sin against the goddess to disturb such a relic, and that's what caused the mage to transform in the first place."

A sin against the goddess? Sounds like the church's usual excuse. He'll have to do some digging into what the actual reason behind the transformation was. It's good to know the Sword of the Creator is still down there in the mausoleum too. That's one more legendary relic he knows the location of.

"Incidentally, classes should be ending in half an hour. You might want to prepare for Hilda's visit if you don't think you're going to fall unconscious again." Mercedes giggles. "She's been very angry so far!"

Oh yay. He's totally going to get punched, isn't he? Or maybe he's going to get a severe glare.

It takes just over half an hour for the bell to sound, and Claude waits in vague anticipation for Hilda to show up and yell at him. He's not disappointed either. She walks into the infirmary right on schedule, notices Claude is awake, and stomps over to his bedside.

"Claude." Her voice is tight, nearly a growl, and her face is scrunched up into a glare. She looms over his prone form, and Claude manages to smile at her and quirk an eyebrow at her. "I hate you."

Claude brings up his hands and fumbles his fingers into the shape of a heart, and Hilda's expression grows even more severe. Claude knows full well he's provoking her, but that's what he does best.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Hilda snaps. She's obviously trying to keep her voice down, but she's also clearly furious. "You could have died. You almost died! If we didn't have Mercedes specifically you would be dead!"

Claude pats her arm, and Hilda lets out an audible growl.

"You should have just yelled at me or something!" She says. "Or tackled me so we both got out of the way!"

Nevermind that the attack was coming directly behind her and he was in front of her, so there's no easy way he could have pushed her aside.

"It's sweet that you're worried Hilda." Mercedes giggles. She winks at Claude with a cheeky smile on her face. "But I'm sure Claude knew what he was doing. You could make your thanks a bit less aggressive, hmm?"

Hilda grumbles and huffs, but she does mutter out "thank you" even if her arms are crossed and she's not looking at him.

Claude would laugh if he was capable of it right now. Hilda's just mad he almost died and that it's kinda her fault. He knows she isn't actually ungrateful.

Also, he's surprised Mercedes can multitask like this. She's controlling his heart and lungs, ingesting mana potions, and listening and talking all the same time. It really is unnerving.

"You…" Hilda says menacingly, and leans down close to Claude's face. It would be a bit more intimidating if her hair wasn't falling on him and tickling his cheeks. "We're going to talk, Claude."

"Ahh, a 'talk'." Mercedes giggles again. "Yes, you might want a private space for that, hmm?"

Hilda jumps in surprise, her cheeks starting to blush red. "What?"

"Well when most students 'talk' they tend to do it in their rooms." Mercedes hums. There's an amused sparkle in her eyes, and Claude suspects she's intentionally messing with Hilda. "Usually at night too."

"That was not a euphemism!" Hilda protests. Her whole face is red now. "I actually mean a talk!"

"Oh, of course, silly me." Mercedes smiles brilliantly. "Please, carry on then. Don't mind me."

"No way." Hilda says. He looks at Claude again, fighting her embarrassment. "Once you're out, you're coming with me and you're sitting your ass down in my room-"

"Oh~"

"-and I am going to yell at you-"

"Aha~"

"-for being an idiot!" Hilda threatens.

"Hmm~"

"Stop that! I told you it's not a euphemism!" Hilda practically shouts at Mercedes.

"Of course it's not." The older girl says sweetly. "Do you want me to teach you how to make blackleaf tea though, just in case?"

Hilda shoots Mercedes a look of pure murder and storms out of the room. Claude watches her leave with no small amount of amusement. When she's gone, Mercedes speaks again.

"She really shouldn't be threatening someone who's recovering." Mercedes tuts, but with a fond smile on her face. "She was more angry than usual, but no tears this time."

Something warm twists in Claude's gut at those words. Is that happiness? Guilt? Discomfort? All three? It's unusual to have someone aside from his parents actually care about his safety to any large degree.

"Hopefully she won't yell too much when you get out." Mercedes chuckles. "She was very worried, but don't let her push you around too much."

Claude is fairly sure he doesn't have to worry about that. Hilda might be angry, but she's not irrational. She'll vent a bit, he'll crack a joke and tease her, and it'll be over with. At least, that's how he hopes it'll happen. He's surprised she's mad in the first place. He expected her to be trying to suck up to him so she doesn't owe him anything. Then again, maybe that's his logic and not hers.

"What would Hilda do…?" Claude muses. "Flatter me to encourage me to help her more in the future? Yeah, that makes more sense. Anger doesn't seem right."

Then again, maybe he's underestimating how much a close friend means to her. After all, he probably wouldn't have put himself in so much danger for anyone else, so maybe her response to him being injured is different from someone else getting injured for her.

Or maybe he's just overthinking this.

###

It's nerve-wracking when the healers check if he can breath on his own again, and even more scary when they test his heartbeat. Both organs work without flaw though, and by Saturday he's able to leave the infirmary. That's not to say he's allowed to do anything vigorous anytime soon though. Having his entire chest pieced back together, damage from the paralytic saliva, and plain old not moving for two weeks has left him weak.

He would be using a cane to support himself as he leaves the infirmary, but instead Hilda is there to carry him out. He actually tries to walk anyways, but Hilda isn't having it. She scoops him right off his feet, ignoring all protests, and carries him to the dormitories, specifically her room.

Claude remembers her promise to yell at him. He figures smiling would be rude, so he tries to school his expression into something more serious.

Hilda deposits him on her bed and roughly pulls out the chair for her desk so she can sit on it. Her arms cross and her brow furrows, and Claude resists the urge to crack a joke.

"You, Claude Von Reigan, are terrible." Hilda says.

"I thought that was a well-established fact." Claude says. "Come on, I saved you didn't I? Are you calling that terrible?"

"Yes." Hilda says. "You should have just let me take the bite."

"Last I checked, you're strong, not tough." Claude counters. "You wouldn't take that bite any better than me."

"I know." She groans. "And that's what makes it worse! You weren't making a tactical decision at all!"

"Well…" He could probably find some way to justify his choice like saying that he needed to keep Hilda alive because she had the strength to kill the monster, but that would be a total lie. Nothing of the sort crossed his mind. "Yeah." He says lamely. "I wasn't."

She jabs him (lightly) in the shoulder. "You can't just throw away your life like that, you're going to lead the Alliance eventually!"

"And here I thought you didn't care about politics."

"I don't." She admits without hesitation. "I just don't want anyone sacrificing themselves for me. I haven't done anything to deserve it yet."

"Wow, where's your usual ego?" Claude says. He can't help but tease a bit. "Isn't your adorable face reason enough for people to throw themselves in front of you?"

"No!" She sounds genuinely offended. Maybe that joke fell flat.

"Come on Hilda, aren't I allowed to save a friend?" Claude asks.

"You're supposed to be selfish though!"

"Ouch." True, but ouch. "Maybe I'm repaying my favors then."

"Way overkill Claude!"

Okay, that didn't work either. Attempt number three. "Look, you've done something to be worth saving Hilda. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not the easiest person to get along with. Someone who will not only put up with me, but cover my ass when I'm out snooping or help me subdue someone without questioning it is not someone I value lightly."

"So you saved me because I'm useful?"

"I… no." He grimaces. He doesn't want to be honest. He hates being honest. Being honest is being weak, and weakness is exploitable. But he's going to do it anyways. Of course he's going to do it anyways, but what is it with Hilda and making him make really bad choices? "I wasn't thinking at all. It was more instinct than anything."

"That's four stories you've given me Claude, make up your mind!"

"The last one." Claude admitted hesitantly. "It was mostly impulse. I didn't want to see you die and acted."

"Fine then." Hilda huffs. She stands up and stalks over to him. "That settles it."

"Settles what?"

"How I'm going to respond."

"Did she plan out different responses based on what I'd say?" Claude doesn't have the chance to ask before she roughly grabs his collar and presses her mouth against his. Now, despite the many manipulations Claude has done over the years, believe it or not he's never actually had a kiss before. He wasn't expecting his first kiss to be a somewhat angry kiss, but apparently it is.

Hilda releases him only a few seconds later, though she doesn't pull her face away. They're still nose-to-nose with their foreheads pushed together. Well, held together. Hilda is still gripping him by the collar. Claude has never been this close to someone, especially when they're staring him in the eye. It's actually quite intimidating to see such an intense stare so close up. "You. Are. Stupid."

"Thanks?"

"I never want you to do that again." She growls. "But I know you might, so you better be damn ready when I do the same at some point in the future."

"If we're lucky that will never happen." Claude offers.

"Yes, but it will. So I better not hear any complaints when I save you next time!" She says.

"But your brother would never forgive me if something happened to you." Claude teases lightly.

"I said no complaints!"

"Alright, alright…" He might sound like he's not taking this seriously, but he is. He's mildly terrified at the implications of all this. He's now kinda responsible for Hilda promising to defend him at some point in the future, which means he may be responsible for her getting seriously injured at some point in the future. Also, she kissed him. What is he supposed to do about that? Is he supposed to do anything? He doesn't know. He's just going to act like normal until he can figure out what the heck to do. He's shown enough weakness for today, both emotionally and physically. Seriously, if Hilda wasn't holding him up he'd flop down in the bed like a ragdoll right now.

"Good." Hilda finally pulls her face away from Claude and he can breathe a sigh of relief. She also releases his collar, and he does indeed flop gracelessly onto the bed. "Have you eaten today? It's around lunch time."

"Lunch would be good." Claude says to the ceiling. "I'm super tired though."

"Eat, then sleep." Hilda orders. "Nothing hard on your stomach, right?"

"Right."

"Fine, then just stay awake for a few minutes while I get some food."

Hilda exits the room, leaving Claude alone with his thoughts. He debates leaving the room himself, he'd love to get his notebook right now, but when he pulls himself up he can already feel his legs wobbling underneath him and decides against it. He underestimated just how weak he is. It's going to be a huge pain to get back up to strength.

Also Hilda. What does he do about Hilda? How seriously is he supposed to take that kiss? Does he act like nothing changed? Maybe he should just wait and see how Hilda acts. That seems like a safe option.

In the meantime he's going to rest. Hilda said she'd be back in a few minutes. He'll just take a moment to close his eyes and relax before then…

He only realizes he fell asleep when Hilda pokes him awake a minute later. He slowly consumes the soup and bread, and carefully drinks the glass of water with surprisingly shaky hands. Only when his plate is clean and his glass empty does Hilda let him go back to sleep. She insists he sleep in her room, if only so she can keep an eye on him while still having access to everything in her room. It's not the first time Claude has slept here, and he's become (unfortunately) used to sleeping in the presence of other people after spending so much time in the infirmary.

Not to say he's comfortable with it, but he's used to it, and he doesn't think he's going to be left alone any time soon considering his heart and lungs weren't working just half a week ago. At least he can be reasonably sure Hilda won't stab him in his sleep.

Of course she won't stab you in your sleep. She's your friend, you nearly died for her. Stop being paranoid.

He drifts off into a surprisingly comfortable sleep, and remains asleep all the way until dinner.


If you thought Byleth was going to get the Sword of the Creator here, you clearly haven't seen how I handled the Rite of Rebirth in Byleth: Peculiar Professor. I've always felt like the Sword of the Creator was shoehorned into the story. Now granted, a lot of things about Byleth are fairly poorly handled in the game, like his appointment as a professor in the first place, but that's something mostly necessary to keep in the story. I can actually do something about the Sword of the Creator.

Claude goes through a lot of shit in this chapter. Keeping him moderately in character was surprisingly difficult. The big sticking point was Claude saving Hilda. How do I justify that? Claude is paranoid, he's smart, and he's very keen on self-defence. He's not a hero, and he wouldn't pretend to be. With that in mind, I made the choice that saving Hilda wasn't a logical choice on his part, because I know there's almost no way Claude would be able to justify that choice to himself logically. And I think there's no way this would work if it wasn't Hilda. Claude doesn't get emotional with anyone else. Heck, even around Hilda he still makes a point to hide his emotions as much as possible, but she's still the only person I can justify him acting on emotion towards rather than logic.