Hilda loathed mornings.

Not because of waking up (though she did adore her sleep), but because it meant a whole new day. Her schedule filled her mornings and it wouldn't be until the afternoon that she could do whatever she wanted.

Some of the Black Eagles had declared there would be a party in the courtyard for their classes to get to know each other better. That had gotten her attention. It wasn't like she didn't like the rest of the Deer aside from Claude it was just…

Okay, it was exactly that. They were just so bland!

As she put on her uniform, she felt guilty for thinking it. Hilda barely knew them, it had been less than a month since they had all moved into the academy.

She could almost hear her brother telling her to give it time. And she would. At least there was Claude to keep her sane.

When she left her room, Claude already waited outside, playing with his braid out of habit. He smirked as he saw her. "Ready for school, Hilda?" He was entirely too cheery in the morning.

"Don't remind me," she groaned.

They began to walk together. Claude filled the silence. "I'm actually curious what she'll teach us. I'm keeping my expectations low, but curiosity is going to kill this cat."

Hilda yawned. "Think she'll let me get away with sleeping in class?"

Claude shrugged. "One way to find out."

They filed in, two of the last to arrive. The last, Raphael, dashed in a minute after they'd taken their seats.

Their classroom was spacious and comfortable, filled with décor from the Alliance. Banners displayed Deer with far more pride than she did. The only thing it lacked was a professor.

Byleth hadn't shown up yet. The monastery's bell tolled and the time for classes to begin came and went. No teacher.

"Ridiculous," Lysithea muttered. They all heard her. Hilda wouldn't choose that word, but she would cock an eyebrow at it.

The door swung open and a haggard Byleth walked in. Her hair was a mess and she wore the same clothes as yesterday.

"Hangover," Hilda muttered to Claude. He rolled his eyes.

"Bear with me," their professor began from her position at the front of the class, "as teaching is hardly my strong suit. Yesterday showed us all we have a long way to go. But we're not going to let a loss stop us. There are other opportunities for us to show the Lions we're stronger than them."

"Stronger?" Lorenz guffawed without mirth. "Professor, we were destroyed yesterday. Frankly, I think it has to do with some weak links," his eyes slid to Claude, "but we are certainly not a force to be reckoned with yet."

Hilda agreed with Lorenz on the latter point. And those words left a bad taste in her mouth.

Byleth sat down at her desk. "Yeah, we were. But that wasn't your fault, it was mine. I'll endeavor to do better and teach you what you need to know to survive."

"And what will that be?" Lysithea asked. Hilda balked at her tone. Little, harmless Lysithea with a voice filled with venom? Perhaps today would be interesting.

"I don't know how to beat enemies in the ways that Edelgard and Dimitri do. They've had tutelage far different from me. But if we can't fight them the traditional way, we sure can make up a way." There was a flicker of fire in Byleth's eyes, something that drew Hilda in for the briefest of moments before letting her go.

Claude had seen it too. He sat straighter, no longer lackadaisical, but alert. A grin played across his face. Hilda knew oh-so-well when a man liked what he saw.

Hilda didn't share the same interest, but she wouldn't deny it.

Maybe things weren't completely hopeless.

"That lesson was…not what I expected," Ignatz said over his meal.

Leonie couldn't help but agree. The past twenty four hours had told her that Byleth Eisner was not everything she was hoping she'd be. Byleth was quiet, unsure, and most certainly not her father. She'd been taught by Jeralt the Blade Breaker, and that's how she turned out?

And then today's lesson. Byleth explained when to drop your weapon in a fight. There were no tactics, no theoretical approaches or scenarios. Just instances when Byleth believed it was appropriate close the distance and punch your opponent.

"Hardly what I'd call honor." Lorenz scowled. He was slouched and Leonie already knew from the short time she knew him that he was angry. "This is an officer's academy, not a tavern brawling class. And to go about that for as long as she did?"

There was a murmur of assent, which Leonie joined.

"Well, there's always the afternoon lesson and our training yard time." Raphael, ever the mediator. "I'm sure the professor is planning something, right?"

"Claude, what do you think?" Hilda asked their silent house leader.

He sat at the end of the table. It had been his idea for them all to eat together for their lunch. House bonding, he'd declared after class. As Hilda asked, he blinked and looked up. Leonie saw a wolfish smirk.

"Oh, my dears," he said, twisting the pun as Hilda groaned. "I think we've come into a double edged relationship. Sure, Teach is no teacher, but she's got experience."

Leonie rolled her eyes. "Thank you, Claude, for that extremely illuminating answer."

Her house leader laughed. "These other teachers, these other houses, they'll be taught how to fight. We'll be taught how to survive."

Some of the Deer looked confused, but Claude refused to elaborate, much to Hilda's chagrin.

It made Leonie wonder how much she'd be learning this year.

Byleth looked up from her desk after the second lesson of the day. Claude had pulled up a chair and set down a wooden box.

"You have training soon," she said.

"Easy, Teach. I'll be there on time, I just wanted to pose a little game to you." He smiled, the way a vulture smiled as it watched a rodent struggle.

Byleth set down her quill. "Oh?"

Claude pulled the lid off the box, showing various gilded figurines and sheets of paper with maps on them. "In Fódlan, this is called War. In Dagda, the name's translation means 'Those with strength stand on top'. Almyra, it's called Domination. In Morfis they refer to it as 'the game for those with brilliant minds.'"

"I don't follow," Byleth said. But he had her attention.

"It's a game of tactics. Few rules, just two people who set their minds against one another and attempt to defeat their opponent. I thought you might find it interesting."

Byleth sighed. "Is this in response to my lessons today? I promise I'll cover tactics in the future. I'm just teaching you all the important things first."

Her student threw his hands up in surrender. "You got me, alright. There's some dissatisfied chatter with the fawns. You might be a bit too brusque for them."

"And for you?" she fired back.

His eyes shimmered with excitement. "My initial assessment of you may have been wrong, Teach. I saw you as Captain Jeralt the Blade Breaker's daughter, not the mercenary called the Ashen Demon. Quite the moniker."

She pushed aside the sheet of paper she was writing on, giving up on getting anything done. "And now?" Leaning forward and mirroring him, she stared him down.

"I think we have some things in common. We're survivors, killers. Were this a class of just me, I think we'd have a beneficial relationship." His smile wilted. "But this isn't. The other Deer aren't like me. Ignatz wants to paint, not to plant an arrow through a man's eye three hundred paces away. The mock battle doesn't sit well with them."

Her stomach churned. Of course they were dissatisfied. First she lost them the mock battle, now she taught them things they deemed useless.

It is not up to them to deem your teachings useless. Is it not the teacher's role to help students learn things they did not know they needed?

Byleth ignored her. "I'll bear that in mind."

Claude smiled. "Just a little food for thought. Now, how about after training I teach you how to play the game for the brilliant mind? Maybe you'll teach the house leader a thing or two?"

She nodded and stood. "After training. I think we ought to get going."

"Lead the way, Teach."

Contrary to their lessons, Byleth was in her element in the sandy training yard.

Ignatz could see it, all the Deer could see it, as could their observers. Their professor looked relieved to working in the physical realm instead of the intellectual.

Byleth flit to each of them, correcting Leonie on sword stances to helping Lorenz adjust how much weight he put behind strikes. She didn't spar with them, claiming they weren't ready for that yet.

He fired another arrow, landing it not far out of the bullseye. Another arrow in his hand, he drew back and aimed, holding until he was satisfied and then firing.

It landed on the line of the bullseye. He was pleased.

"Not bad," Byleth said. He jumped, startled. "You've got a good eye."

"Ah! Thank you, professor." He blushed.

"You take your time to aim, though. Every second you aren't letting loose an arrow is another the enemy can plant one in you. May I?" she gestured to his bow. He handed it over with some arrows.

"Try holding your ammunition like this." In her right hand she held the bow and the arrows in two fingers, running parallel with the bow itself. "You spend a lot of time reaching to grab an arrow. This way you can be quicker."

The arrow she already had prepared leapt from her bow to the target, hitting the outer ring. She grabbed one of the arrows in her hand and in a fluid motion, fired it and hit the target, closer to the center. She did it again, again, again.

Ignatz marveled. In the amount of arrows it'd take him thirty seconds to shoot, she'd done it in ten. The target wasn't as precise as his shots had been, but they all landed on the rings.

"Think of that target as a person. Sure, it's nice to hit a man in the heart and stop him dead in his tracks, but if you hit him in the stomach, he'll go down. He won't die, but you'll take him out of the fight. I've yet to meet the average soldier who can walk off an arrow in the gut."

Ignatz saw one of the knights watching the exchange. Shamir looked very interested in the technique Byleth had just shown him.

"Are you listening?" Byleth asked.

"Yes!" Ignatz said. "Sorry, I was just impressed."

She shrugged. "It's not great shooting. I prefer being up close to an enemy. But we'll make a war archer out of you yet." His professor patted him on the shoulder and walked to the next student.

Ignatz tried the technique and failed miserably. Byleth made it seem easy, but there were muscles in his hands that he wasn't used to using yet that failed him. His shots barely made it onto the target as he fired and he wasn't anywhere close to Byleth's speed.

Despite the failings, he swore he saw Byleth nodding in approval when she thought he wasn't looking.

He smiled and kept practicing.

"How's the first day of teaching, kiddo?" Jeralt said, sitting across the dining table from her.

Byleth shrugged and picked at her food.

Jeralt pulled out a hip flask and poured some alcohol into whatever was in his mug. Sighing contently, he took a long sip. "If it makes you feel better, teaching you wasn't some easy thing."

"Care to share some wisdom?" Byleth said, her tone betraying the levity her face didn't show.

Her father laughed. "Kid, I doubt there are any children who were quite like you growing up. But be patient, they'll start learning eventually. Hopefully they'll soak in some before the end of the month."

Byleth looked up from her plate. "Is there something at the end of this month?"

"Rhea didn't tell you? Each house has an assignment at the end, or sometimes during, each month. Think of it as selling out the students as mercenaries to take care of Church problems. Free labor." Jeralt waved a hand in annoyance. "You'll be taking your kids out into battle soon."

"That's a stupid idea. They're not ready. Claude told me that they were surprised that I wasn't teaching them honorable combat," Byleth said.

Jeralt laughed, drawing a few nearby students' eyes. "Ah, to be young again."

"What?" Byleth asked, irritated.

"Just reminds me of when I was that young. Young enough to think the battlefield obeyed rules." His expression grew more serious with a care he reserved for his only daughter. "Make sure you teach them how to survive, By. If one of those kids dies out there, you'll have that weighing on your conscience."

She nodded. He was right, of course. Byleth would have to focus on certain topics.

"But enough doom and gloom. If there's one thing I missed about the monastery, it was the food." Jeralt smiled as he speared a piece of seared meat with a fork, dripping a honey glaze.

"You'd like any food not prepared by you. Your cooking is terrible."

Jeralt coughed as he tried to swallow. "Girl, next time we train, I'll make you pay for that one." He tried to sound serious, but the badly restrained laughter was all but bellowing from his lungs.

Byleth shrugged. "If you can beat me." But she smiled.

Come along! Hilda had said. It'll be fun! Hilda had said.

Parties, Lysithea decided, were not fun.

Though the pastries the cooks had brought were divine. She nibbled on a tart at the edge of the courtyard as students from all three houses mingled and talked.

Hilda was at the center of it, chatting up anyone who came close to her. She and the other noble born thrived and the commoners lingered on the edges, apprehensive of diving into the nest.

Except for Marianne, who hadn't deigned to show up.

"Not a fan of crowds, Lysithea?"

She turned her head to see Edelgard take the seat opposite of her at the table. The woman smiled, though her severity still hung over her like a shadow. Or maybe that was just Hubert following her every step.

"Crowds are fine, I just detest gatherings like this." Lysithea frowned at the assembled students. She ought to be in the library, studying. Goddess knew that her professor wouldn't be of much help.

"We're in agreement with that." Edelgard's expression looked far away. "The nobles squabble and make friends without a care in the world."

Lysithea found herself nodding. "What a lovely future we have to look forward to." Not that she'd be a part of it.

Edelgard chuckled. "Something tells me that if nobles were as dedicated like you, Lysithea, that we'd have a much different world to inhabit."

She flushed at the compliment. Her drive wasn't for the compliments of others, but it did feel nice. "I just know what I want."

That piqued the house leader's interest. "And what is that?"

Not to die. "To make a mark on the world."

The princess nodded in approval. "A worthy dream. You and I are similar in that regard. If there is anything I might be able to provide you to help, please do not hesitate to ask." Edelgard stood and Hubert—she'd forgotten he was there—stepped behind her. "I must go mingle with the vipers. Appearances to uphold as princess, you understand."

"Don't get bitten." Edelgard laughed at that.

Lysithea looked for Claude. Her house leader wasn't even there, trying to get to know his cohort.

A slow anger began to simmer.

"Your move, Teach," Claude said, leaning back in his chair he'd pulled up to her teaching desk again.

Gold light of sunset reflected off the golden statues. They'd been a gift from his grandfather, a subtle reminder that he needed to learn at the academy. The reminder wasn't needed or appreciated from that man, but Claude knew not to decry a present. Especially one as valuable as this set.

Oh, how she inspected the map and figures. His intuition was right, she proved to be a quick study for the game. It was their third match and Claude found himself enjoying it. He'd fleeced her in their first two bouts, but now they had an array set up with smaller armies. Groups more akin to bands of mercenaries.

He'd never been so glad to lose. He hadn't lost yet, of course, but the confidence she moved her pieces with, the assurance! His professor was dismantling his army.

"You're better than I expected," he said, breaking the silence.

Byleth didn't even look up from the map as she responded. "And what did you expect?"

The question went unanswered as he ignored it. "I'm sure that had you more time before the mock battle, there could have been a rapport between you and the students."

That time she looked up. "So your analysis of the battle was that we weren't a unit?"

"That, and we weren't as dedicated. The Alliance only fights with itself, not the other countries." That mentality had disseminated into the academy, Claude decided. Lorenz occupied himself with surpassing Claude when they could be working together.

His professor nodded, finally moving her pieces. As he made his move, she said, "I agree. I've no idea how to foster that trust between you all, though."

"I'll make you a deal, Teach." Claude made his move, barely caring at this point. He'd gotten to where he wanted the conversation to develop. That was the only reason he'd brought her the game earlier. "Make them into killers. I'll make them into friends."

He had her attention. She stared for a few moments before saying, "And why do you want them to become the best? You don't strike me as the type to place the needs of others before your own."

Ouch, but accurate. "Show me the person who tells you they need less allies. Show me the person who seeks to make enemies out of everyone and then tell me their accomplishments. I have aspirations, Teach, goals to achieve. I need reliable people to trust to get me to those."

Byleth nodded and made her move. "You'll need to trust them yourself, first."

He blinked. "Pardon?"

She slid her wyvern battalion a few inches, the golden statue polished with her fingerprints. "You lose, no unmounted units in plate mail can outrun wyverns." Byleth Eisner looked him in the eye. "Is Hilda your friend because you care about her or because you think she's useful?"

When he didn't respond, she nodded. "Clean this up. I'd like to play again, sometime." Byleth walked around her desk and made her way to the door.

He packed up the game and perked up when he heard, "Oh, Claude?"

They made eye contact. "I agree to your deal." And with that, she left.

She groaned at the knock on her door. Byleth sauntered up from her desk and took a deep breath. Opening her room's door, she revealed a woman with light hair.

"Hello, professor." The girl's—woman's—voice was light and feathery. "I made pastries for all the professors. Hanneman and Manuela were easy to find, but you proved quite the challenge." She held out a small basket, a warm aroma telling her everything about what was under the cloth covering it.

"I'm sorry," Byleth said, "but who are you?"

"Oh! Silly me, so forgetful. I am Mercedes von Martritz and I just wanted to welcome you to the monastery!" She gave a curtsey and smiled.

Byleth nodded. "Are you another teacher?"

Mercedes thought that was the funniest thing. Byleth wanted to escape into her room as Mercedes laughed. "Oh, no, professor. I'm a student, though I will admit I'm older than most here."

"Oh, right," Byleth said. "Sorry."

She waved her off. "Here," Mercedes said as she pressed the basket into her arms. "I hope you enjoy them, but I'll admit I've come here selfishly. I saw what you were teaching Ignatz today to shoot faster. I was wondering if you could show me as well?"

Goddess, the basket's contents smelled so good. "Yes, I'll have time this weekend on one of the free days. Is that agreeable, Mercedes?"

She nodded with a smile. "But no need to be so formal! Call me Mercie, that's what my friends call me."

Mercedes bid her farewell and Byleth retreated into her room and attacked one of the pastries.

Later, as she lay in bed having eaten too much, she would realize that she was susceptible to bribes and that she agreed to help out her house's rival. Sleep came before she could consider either.

Raphael saw his professor walking back from the cathedral across the dewy grass. He waved and she walked over.

"You're up early," she stated.

Raphael smiled. He set down the large stone he'd been lifting. It was a part of the monastery's architecture. He'd noticed it was loose a week ago and decided it'd make a great way to train before he could get into the knights' hall.

"Best time of day to work out. Plus, it means I can go right to the dining hall after and fill up." Oh, today they were serving a Dagdan dish that he just had to try.

"Does Seteth know you're using the monastery as your personal training equipment?" Her lips curled, a smile ghosting across her face.

Raphael scratched his head. "Ah, no, he doesn't." That probably wouldn't be good for him to know.

The professor nodded. "Our secret."

"Hey, professor," Raphael started, then stopped, unsure what to say.

"Yes, Raphael?" She cocked her head to the side, waiting.

Raphael swallowed. "Was I the reason we lost the mock battle when I charged ahead?" Ignatz mentioned that Claude hadn't been pleased about it.

"Yes and no," Byleth replied almost immediately. "You're a strong man, the type needed to take the attention of enemies away from those who rely on staying back and attacking from afar. Were you to have stayed with us, we might've faired better."

His heart sank. He opened his mouth to apologize.

"But," she stressed, "you're not the only one to blame. I think there are things we can all do to improve after that performance. Particularly me. I let you all down as a commander."

Raphael's eyes widened. "No you didn't, professor! I was talking to Dimitri yesterday and he told me how you moved. He called you a hurricane. Said you were the fastest fighter he'd ever met."

Byleth rolled her eyes. "Unlikely. Anyone inexperienced would say that. I'm just a mercenary who's seen enough of the world to know what it's like."

"I'm jealous," Raphael admitted. When Byleth's gaze invited him further, he continued, "I take care of my sister, Maya. And I wouldn't give that up! Not ever! But I haven't seen much of the world outside my village and well, Garreg Mach now. I guess I'm wondering what it's like out there."

His teacher looked at him for some time before nodding. "Would you like me to tell you about some of the places I've seen while you train?"

He nodded eagerly and began to pick up the boulder again, heaving under its weight while Byleth's voice went on.

"In Faerghus, there's this city called Arianrhod. Though to call it a city is an understatement. It's a castle, a fortress, and a siege engine all rolled into one. Every inch was built to resist the Empire. As for why it's called the Silver Maiden, I think that's some military humor over how it's never been taken…"

She continued on and he kept working out as the sun began to crest the horizon. For the first time since he'd come to Garreg Mach, he didn't worry about his sister as much.

Author Notes: So many kind words! Thank you all! You get an early chapter for that because you made my day. And a writer and friend I really respect told me I'd outdone myself so let's celebrate with another chapter!

Editing Notes:
12/31/2020: Minor revisions for grammar and coherency.
7/28/2021: Minor grammar adjustments.