Here we go. Another chapter! I'm amazed with how well this story has done since I started. I had no idea you guys and girls would like it so much. As always, I'm really grateful for all of your kind words. I'm eager to hear what you think of this next part. Lets begin shall we?

Nobility (Black Eagles V)

I barely slept last night with the nerves I felt. The hardest part of preparing this morning was replacing the badge pinned to my shirt. For months I've proudly worn the mark of a Golden Deer. Today I've swapped it with the badge of the Black Eagles. The students of Adrestia's house are of noble birth: positions of power. They're the sons of daughters of governors and generals. Dorothea is the only one of a humble upbringing among the class.

I checked the courtyard sundial earlier. There are still thirty minutes until professor Manuela's lecture. My plan was to get here before everyone else. Being the last to arrive for a class is unsettling. Unfortonately, entering my new classroom is proving a chore.

I've been staring at the weighty grey steel door of the Black Eagle homeroom for an eternity. Unease holds my feet to the floor.

My stomach feels like it'll flip at any second. A deep breath in and a deep breath out.

"Alright Rolan. Keep it together. You can do this." No more stalling. I heave the almighty doors wide; the hinges groan painfully.

Upon stepping inside I'm greeted by sights not too different from my old homeroom.

A spawling stone chamber with a high roof supported by pillars. Two sets of benches are arranged in rows with a carpet of red velvet running down the middle to divide the room. There's a chalkboard; a desk and a podium elevated by a low platform at the front. Cobweb-covered bookshelves line the side walls; banners of the Black Eagles hang between them proudly for all to see.

There is a difference, however - aside the house banners. An elegant stained-glass window behind the teacher's desk. It depicts a saintly female figure - a woman of demure expression and angelic white robes. A depiction of the Goddess. She's worshiped by most of Fodlan, yet there are so few pictures in books. I've only seen two myself. Both were vastly different. The first was an image exactly like this - a beacon both pure and serene, adorned in white robes. The second was a younger lassie, probably teenage in years with a soft face and rounded cheeks. A long cape covered her short and dainty body.

I smile a thoughtful smile at the artful window. "Beautiful." Such a sight relaxes me.

Prepared for the day ahead, I choose a bench near the back and seat myself.

Sitting closer to the front might come across as overly enthusiastic. I'll take things steady and show Miss Edelgard I'm worthy in the best way I can, over by the training grounds - not with books. She values actions above words from what I've seen.

Slowly but surely students begin trickling in. A few here and there give me welcoming smiles or passing glances. I hear whispers too. Hardly a surprise. You can't escape swirling rumours at Garreg Mach. Banter is rife. From talk of students sneaking into town past curfew, to rumours about the scores of men Miss Manuela invites over to her quarters after hours.

Speaking of my new Professor, there's no missing her. "Norning to you all, Black Eagles." She strolls in with a sultry expression and a leather-bound tome under her arm. A tall and curvaceous woman with a mature demeanour and an alluring voice. The beauty mark on her cheek is pretty, too. Her way of dress (for a teacher) sure leaves a lot on show, not that I'm complaining. I'm a warm-blooded man after all. You can't beat a lady in a dress.

Minutes slip by quietly - more and more students arrive. Some are dressed pristinely; others are droopy-eyed with creased uniforms. I'm not surprised to see nobles in the thralls of a morning slump. I'll bet none of them wake up in the early hours to drag around flour sacks - or knead dough.

One of the highborn students catches my attention.

A towering but gangly fellow with a slim frame, a gaunt face and ghostly skin. A shiver scuttles under my skin the longer I gaze. There's an aloofness about him - something distant and calculating. His uniform is completely perfect without a single button out of place - I dare say he looks regal. Then there's his eyes. They're sharp and dark - two endless voids. Everybody he looks at (aside a rare few) step aside without question. He's feared; that much is obvious.

Lady Edelgard enters soon after. "Rolan. Please work hard in your first class," she comments while passing.

In the first row she sits, beside the pasty-skinned gentleman from a moment ago. The duo lean in close and start a hushed conversation. Their mouths are moving but they're too far away for me to make out specifics. The gangly gent snaps his focus in my direction once Edelgard finishes. My intuition flares in alarm at his scowl. What's his problem? I think I'll keep my distance. Best I don't get involved with iffy characters.

A tap on my shoulder breaks my concentration. I flinch, turning back. Dorothea greets me by ruffling my hair. "Hey there stranger," she speaks with cheer. The songstress puts down her satchel bag in the empty space to my right. Bringing her legs over the bench, she shuffles close - so close in that our bodies touch. "Are you ready for our first lesson? I can't believe it; we're in the same class."

"I was nervous when I first woke," I admit at a whisper. "But I'll do my best."

"Awww..." Dorothea giggles. She rests a hand atop mine. To avoid unsightly looks from fellow students we take our embrace beneath the table and link fingers. She squeezes my digits with care and tenderness. "You'll do just fine," she assures. "Most of the class are nice. Give it a week or two."

Dorothea's shining praise is a stark comparison to the man sitting with Edelgard. Something about him feels very wrong. "Dorothea..." I speak in a low voice. "What's the story with the guy next to Edelgard? He gave me a really uncomfortable stare; it's like he was disgusted or something."

Her expression falls just the slightest bit. "Oh... That's Hubert - son of the Marquisate of Vestra - very powerful. He's served Edel since they were children. They're always side-by-side. Did the two of you..." She pauses, glancing nervously Hubert's way for a split second. "Have a cross word?"

"No. Nothing like that. He and Miss Edelgard were talking. I'm not sure what about. That's how it happened."

Dorothea sighs with relief. "That's normal. He's our strategist; it's his job to decide who goes where when we're sent on missions."

"So you're saying he's sizing me up?"

"Probably, yes. I wouldn't fret." Dorothea gives my fingers a second supportive squeeze. "I put in a good word with Edel for you, after all."

"Most appreciated. Folks in Adrestia are different to those you find in the Alliance. Here's hoping I fit in here."

"You're quick to put yourself down too often," chuckles Dorothea. "I'm an Adrestian girl and you had no problems winning your way with me. Who knows?" she says in a teasing tone. "Just be your usual self; you'll become popular in no time."

"Kind as always. Thank you."

"Of course. You're special to me. Why do you think I invited you over the other evening?"

My cheeks flush at the memory. My heart almost misses a beat. I'm feeling clammy all of the sudden.

Dorothea winks, "Someone's red in the face," she smirks - ever the flirt. "I didn't expect my future husband to be so... cute." The clack of hurried footsteps stall her; a quiet relief. She gets carried away with her games now and again.

Petra stands in the homeroom doorway. She's breathing heavily, hot and flustered. The monastery bells chime just a second after she puts a foot through the door. "Please be forgiving my slowness, Teacher. I was hoping to be early, but was busy with the training."

"Oh it's quite alright, dear," calls Manuela dismissively from her spot beside the chalkboard. "Take a seat. I'm on the late side too. I was drinking with a dashing gentleman yesterday night - a town guard. Very attentive, but the poor thing couldn't keep up in the end."

Petra bows, "Thanking you with kindness, Professor Manuela."

Part of me wants to call Petra over; I'm saved the trouble. She sees me beside Dorothea and veers our way without so much as asking. Is it just me, or is she cheerful about something? Her cheeks are glowing all of the sudden.

"A kind hello for you, Rolan," Petra wastes no time in swinging her legs over the bench, sitting to the left of me. "It fills me with niceness to sit with you." No. I'm not imaging it. Her face is beet red. She's blushing - it's the same as our sparring session before. The corners of her lips rise into a grin. "I am eager to be learning with you."

"See what I mean Rolan?" comments Dorothea. "You'll be one of us before you know it." She releases my hand and returns hers to the table. "Hello there, Petra. I hope you're well."

Petra returns her greeting with equal kindness. "I am feeling much wellness."

Professor Manuela snaps her fingers to command the respect of her students. "Alright class." She stands behind the podium with poise, puffing out her chest. "Today we have a transfer from the Golden Deer. A few of you might've noticed him tucked away in the corner. Rolan," my teacher calls out. "Be a dear and introduce yourself, would you?"

I stand from my seat. Plenty the Adrestian students appear interested in me - the strange enigma who's quietly moved in without a word so far.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all. Like Professor Manuela said, I'm from the Alliance - born and raised in Goneril until I came to study here. My family own several bakeries, but I figure myself a swordsman. It'll be good training with the lords and ladies here; especially since I'm making my home in Enbarr when I graduate." That'll do for now. I seat myself and Professor starts with her lecture.

Low voices begin circulating in the rows not too far from me. A girl short in height with red hair is chattering with a friend - another girl with pink pigtails and a rounded face. I'm just close enough to make out what they're saying. "Kien from the Golden Deer said he's Dorothea's boyfriend..."

"That's him? Really?" the pink-haired girl replies. "She rejected Sylvain of the Blue Lions for some bread seller?"

Word of my love life has spread beyond my house. Great. Just great. I'd better be careful with my antics from now on.

"Sylvain?" gasps the redhead. "But why? Joining House Gautier would be a feat for a commoner like her."

"Shhh... She'll hear you."

She heard you alright, ladies. Dorothea's strained facade of pleasantness confesses what words cannot. And her stiff shoulders are equally telling. The poor girl is scribbling notes on her parchment paper twice as quick. If she keeps this pace we'll run short on ink.

I'm drawn away from the tongue wagging missies by a poke to my arm from Petra. "Will you train tonight? I am wishing to spar with you."

Her timing isn't great, but I'd be happy to polish our sword skills later. "Fine with me. I'll be there after sunset."

My approval causes a shift in my Brigid-born friend. She's determined all of the sudden. An inferno rages behind her smile. "I am greatly awaiting our fight." And fighting words they are, too. I'll bet she views our practice matches as some kinda strange rivalry. I know I do.

Class goes by quickly, but all isn't well.

Dorothea is still annoyed. She wears a mask of politeness, but her body language shows a different story.

She wastes no time putting away her papers; she's equally quick to step out from the bench and move for the door. Just short of leaving, she swings on her heels to meet me. "I'm heading to my dorm for a bit." Her voice is weak - distant.

"Is everything alright?" I reach out to my beloved; she turns her away from me.

"I'll be fine. Stop by later, won't you? Please? Just knock. I'll let you in." She's leaves - gone before I can answer.

Every mask we wear cracks eventually. That's what Ma always used to say.

I follow out of concern. By the time I'm down the path Dorothea has already turned the corner; she's heading through the doors to the mess hall. Those gossiping girls have a lot to answer for. I've never seen her this disheartened. Is this a regular thing she deals with - the nobility judging her and all?

Highborn folks view love pretty differently to commoners. We're miles apart. I had strong feelings before; they're even stronger now.

Would Hilda's family have approved of me? After graduating Garreg Mach would we have been able to show our love openly?

I have a terrible feeling our relationship would've become kisses in secret; passions in the dark.

All the more reason to visit Dorothea later and check she's alright. We're the same. Two commoners trying to find our way. She's been a light at a bleak time in my life. I can only hope our nosy classmates didn't hurt her feelings too strongly.

"Rolan... is it not?" a man asks from behind. His sinister tone gives me a shudder.

I look over my shoulder. Hubert awaits, his brow raised impatiently. "Well?" He continues with a tap of the shoe. "Rolan is your name, correct? Speak."

"Correct," I respond, unwilling to turn and face him respectfully. He gives off a bleak and discomforting aura. I can't find words to describe what else bothers me about him, but I feel it - something dangerous. With a narrowed gaze I press on, "Can I help you?"

"A test," Hubert replies. "To show you are worthy." He folds his arms; the unnerving vibe I feel intensifies. "The monastery intends to host is a mixed-skill tournament between the three houses. It is next week. A trivial affair, true, but I want you to represent the Black Eagles alongside Miss Petra. I've been told the two of you fight effectively. Become a team. Tame our Brigid beast. Prove you are deserving of the honorary bestowed upon you by my mistress."

I'm left scowling by Hubert's awful nickname for Petra. I'd crack the guy if he weren't Edelgard's faithful serf, I can't put my Black Eagle status at risk. If Adrestia's future empress withdrew my scholarship I'd be gone. I'll bite my tongue, even if it annoys me. "Care to explain why should fight without reason?"

"Because we may have need of someone with your talents in the coming days. Rally Petra. That is all I will say on the matter."

Hubert returns to our homeroom. I'm bubbling with bitterness over his attitude.

Another test seems pointless. I thought I'd passed my test as a Black Eagle by sparring with Petra in the first place. Now this dark and scary character wants the two of us to fight as a pair? There's a reason of some kind - there has to be.

Edelgard and Hubert were talking earlier in class, but about what? No. I'll not overthink it.

For now I'll rest up in my room before checking on Dorothea.

Her wellbeing is my biggest concern. I hate it beyond compare when she's upset.

Nothing could've prepared me for knocking upon the door of Dorothea's bedroom before sunset. She greeted me in a skimpy black lace nightgown, her long chocolate hair spilled past her shoulders in glorious waves. The scent of her perfume was intoxicating; it rendered me helpless it.

Through the door she pulled me while the coast was clear.

Here I sit on the edge of her bed. My heart hammers.

"I'm glad you came, Rolan." Dorothea sits upon my lap, embracing me tightly as though her life depends on it. She nestles against the nape of my neck, breathing my scent and enjoying our closeness."Keep me company for a while. I'd be very grateful." Sadness and desperation both lace her voice. She squeezes her arms around my back with serenity; with compassion.

It'll be my pleasure. "What's troubling you, Dorothea?" I'll press my hunch. "Was it those girls in class?"

She nods, leaning in and pecking my lips. "I'll never understand some of these nobles. All they think about is finding a wealthy lover. They don't love for the sake of love. It's sad; truly. I have a friend with the exact same problem but reversed. Have you met Ingrid of the Blue Lions?"

A vague memory returns to me; it's hazy but it's there. Ingrid of House Galatea. A blonde girl of a mild temperament and a slim figure. If word around the monastery is to be believed she's training to become a Pegasus Knight. Word has it she's pleasant to spend time with. A real sweetheart with a love of chivalry; though I've never spoken to her personally. "I saw her at the mock battle earlier in the year. I didn't realize she was a friend of yours."

"She certainly is," reveals Dorothea. "We've become fine friends since our first year. She's lovely, really. Though her state of affairs is an unhappyone ." The songstress exhales glumly. "All Ingrid wants is to become a noble knight and marry for love... but her father pressures her to marry a young man who've recently came into a fortune - a real scoundrel. It's all her for crest. Passing it on is a constant worry for Ingrid's family, not her feelings."

No wonder the girls in class upset Dorothea with their talk of Sylvain. "So that's why you ran out so abruptly..."

"Exactly. Most nobles don't love because they want to; because their hearts guide them. They birth children for the sake of bloodlines - crests. Heirs and status. The thought of a life without love is empty to me; just awful..." Dorothea brings her palm against my cheek, "It would hurt beyond words if you and I became so distant. Promise me Rolan; promise you'll always treasure me for who I am."

I don't need to think twice. "You already know why I feel the way I do. I was clueless of your past as an opera singer when first we met, remember? Don't be so fearful. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."

I'm rewarded with a heartfelt kiss; a passionate kiss.

Dorothea smiles when she parts her lips from mine. "I'm glad; I want my babies to be born out of love - not family ties."

"Talk of babies already?" I ask jokingly. "In a hurry, are we?"

"Maybe when we're living in Adrestia," she winks. "Rolan..."

"What is it, dearest?"

She bats her eyelashes. "Stay for a while. Cuddle me. I'd like to take a nap."

"It'll bemy pleasure. Go ahead; get comfy. I'll lay here with you."

Dorothea shows her gratitude with yet another kiss before shuffling off my lap. We cosy up, snuggling atop the bedsheets. For a while we treasure the peace and quiet; the simple pleasure of being together. I wouldn't trade it for the world. My beloved lays against my chest; she patters her fingers my upon my stomach in a rhythm matching my heartbeat.

"Thank you Rolan, for listening to my worries with Ingrid. I want her to be happy."

In all honesty, I'd like to meet Ingrid - maybe introduce myself personally. She sounds kind enough. "It's my pleasure."

Dorothea closes her eyes, nestling her head of brunette waves against my neck. I run my fingers through those silky locks. It doesn't take long for my wonderful songstress to drift off into a peaceful slumber. The sound of her gentle breaths relax me. I feel on the tired side just looking at her. Moments like these are some of the nicest I have at Garreg Mach. Peaceful - free of concerns. I wouldn't change them for the world.

Alone with my thoughts, I'm drawn back to Hubert's request. Why does he want me to team up with Petra? And what exactly did Dorothea say when she spoke to Edelgard about me? I wish I had answers. I'm not familiar with Adrestian ways of doing things. Taking a shot in the dark is never a smart move, especially when you aren't yet on steady ground. I exhale my annoyance, raising my eyes to the ceiling.

Whatever the case, I've no problem working with Petra. There's plenty to respect about her. She's skilled. Polite. Dedicated. Pretty.

"Fine," I mouth silently. "I'll do it."

Not for Hubert's sake. Not for mine, either. I'm beyond capable of proving myself.

I'll do it for Petra - because she's a nice person. Because she's deserving of far greater respect than she gets. For the longest time I believed (like many others) that the princess of Brigid was an honored guest of Adrestia. Edelgard and those around her said as much. They insisted upon it. Now? I'm feeling cynical. But if there's one thing I am sure of, it's Petra's dedication. She's got fire and fury in spades.

She's an outsider of the Black Eagle house - much like me.

I won't let some snob speak ill of her.

To be continued...

There you have it. Another chapter comes to a close! Did you like it? Would you like to see more in future? Feel free to leave some feedback and share your thoughts. As always keep on supporting Fire Emblem and I'll see you in the next part. Thanks again!