They arrived to the training grounds later than usual. Ignatz was getting better, but he wasn't capable of running yet. Originally, Leonie had thought he'd be coming along to watch them train. But when she'd mentioned it, he'd said otherwise.

Shamir took one look at them. "Ignatz, go start your warm ups." He nodded and immediately split off.

Leonie took a look at Claude. It was their first lesson with Shamir since Conand Tower. It had taken them longer to get back than expected on account of Miklan's transformation.

Bringing down such a huge monster was not what they had prepared for. It had taken the better part of a day and resulted in plenty of injuries. They'd had to flee down the tower, fighting as they ran. Gilbert had almost died as he'd braced against a blow. After they'd slain the beast, they spent time in the tower resting, recovering.

And it seemed in that time, Shamir and Ignatz had struck up some sort of rapport.

"I wanted to talk to you two before we started," Shamir stated. "The kid is going to be doing some different things from you from now on."

"Is he okay to?" Claude asked, concerned.

Shamir nodded. Leonie looked over at Ignatz stretching his leg. He was already sweating from exertion.

"That kid has drive. He's committed to staying in your league, even at a disadvantage." Shamir folded her arms. "Help him only if he asks you for help."

"What if he needs help and doesn't ask?" Leonie said.

Shamir shook her head. "No. He needs to understand his new limits. It doesn't sound kind, but it'll save his life. But there's something I need from you two." Her gaze burned, like she was giving orders to insubordinate soldiers. "I understand that you're just students, but you need to push yourself as hard as he is. Ignatz was devastated that he couldn't come with your class this mission. Do not give him reason to feel discouraged."

Claude, ever the one to feel responsible for his house, said, "And how do you know what's best for him?"

She glared. "Riegan or not, watch your tone. I'll make you do laps." Shamir sighed, calming down some. "My old partner was an archer too. He lost an eye and we had to retrain him. Is it the same as having your leg crippled? No, but the discouragement is. Seeing you slack off will make him feel bad about how much more he has to practice."

Leonie thought she understood. Her village had never had any sort of education procedure, but one thing that everyone was taught in Sauin was to hunt. And truth be told, Leonie had been abysmal at first.

Other kids had been naturally gifted. They spent an hour where she'd spend four. When she'd finally find a quarry and bring it down, they were swimming and having fun in the river. It was infuriating.

Leonie had almost given up. If the village had good hunters like her, what was the point?

But then Jeralt had showed up.

He'd been gruff, but gentle as he taught her pointers. He'd been patient, giving her time to work and come back to him when she was ready. When she didn't understand something, he figured out how to show her in a different way.

In a week, he taught her more than she'd learned in years. And then she began to excel, showing those same kids just who was the best in the village. It had brought her to the officer's academy.

Before he had left, Jeralt had told her, "Nothing easy is worth accomplishing. Pride isn't something to have in excess, but have pride when you can do something no one else can. When you can fill that niche, then you'll have a place in the world. And that's worth accomplishing."

Leonie had to ask what niche meant after he'd left. But that bit of advice had helped her focus. Helped her decide she'd become the best and show Jeralt just how right he'd been. He'd be proud.

"Yes, Shamir," Leonie said like she was reporting to a superior. Claude raised an eyebrow, but nodded along.

Shamir gave a breathy laugh. "Don't sound so appreciative. I heard about this monster you had to fight. I'm not going easy on you anymore. You need to get better, fast. By time our training sessions are done, you'll be lucky if you can walk."

"You were going easy before?" Claude blurted.

"Yep. Both of you, run laps around the training yard. I'll be sparing with Catherine hand to hand. Archers are attentive. When each of our spars end, you better be able to tell me just what each of us did wrong. If you can't, you keep running. We keep it up until you can do that three times in a row or you throw up. Whichever comes last."

Claude and Leonie exchanged looks.

Shamir grinned with a hint of sadism. "By the end of the year, I'll have you outshooting soldiers a decade older than you. Get running."

Two hours later, both of them were cleaning their vomit off the ground.

"It's been what, two months? Three? I don't think I've ever seen you take a break."

Lysithea looked up from her book. Edelgard took a seat across from her table in the library. She had her own tome while Lysithea had a castle of eight stacked around her.

"I take breaks," she said defensively. "That's what sleep is for, as well."

Edelgard raised her hands in surrender. "I meant no offense. It's my role as house leader to make sure my fellow students are doing well. With you, I'm hardly concerned about grades, but I do worry you push yourself too hard."

Only because I must, she didn't say. "My future is something I take seriously. To slack off at the academy would be such a waste of resources."

Edelgard smiled. "Then perhaps I could assist you in your research? My own questions have gone unanswered in this library, so taking some time away could help."

Lysithea froze. Oh sure, Edelgard, if you could help me figure out how to remove a second Crest? Asking for a friend.

"Well," she said, pausing to give herself time. "It's rather of personal nature to me, I'll admit. Though I appreciate you offering!" Please don't be mad.

She wasn't. "I can respect that, we all have our secrets. Still, I insist you spend some time with me. A break for both of us, house leader's orders."

"As you wish." So long as it let her avoid the topic of her Crests.

"Excellent. Tea and, if I am not mistaken, some of those little cakes you love so much. I do believe the dining hall has some fresh ones for us." Edelgard's lips curled.

"For us?" Lysithea's eyes widened.

The future Emperor laughed. "House leader has its perks. And I can be persuasive. And, well, Hubert was the one who noticed how much you enjoyed them one night."

Lysithea's face flushed red. "Well, how observant of him."

"Then let's go. Come, I'll help you bring your books to your room." Edelgard reached across, taking care not to dwell on the titles. Her hand brushed against Lysithea's as she pulled the book out of her hands.

She was so flustered she didn't even protest as Edelgard scooped them all up, not leaving any for her to carry.

Dorothea hated jealousy.

She had not doubt that's what the prickly emotion was in her stomach as she watched her white haired classmates leave the library. And she'd been having a nice day before that.

It was supposed to be her who made people jealous, not the one who became so. In the opera, she'd turned heads of men, women, everyone. Fights had broken out over her. Not that she encouraged them, but a girl couldn't be blamed for enjoying being desired.

Dorothea hated to admit it, but she'd been so sure she could woo Edelgard. But of course she couldn't. She was an orphan girl dressed in pretty silks. Dress up trash however you like, but it was the same underneath. Beauty and vocal talent she had in excess, but both were fleeting with time. Emperor Edelgard wouldn't fall for a pretty face alone.

She closed her book. Moping wasn't a good look on her. She needed air.

After a short walk down the stairs, she saw the duo she was avoiding heading towards the dining hall. Not wishing to deal with that, she turned and headed the opposite way, hiding her face with her hat.

But that, naturally, brought Dorothea to the last place she enjoyed going to in the monastery. The cathedral was beautiful and she did enjoy singing there in the choir. But it was just so…holy.

The Goddess hadn't given a shit when she'd been on the streets. She hadn't cared when Dorothea watched other children die in the cold of winter. She hadn't cared when Dorothea got caught stealing. She hadn't cared once.

Dorothea took a seat in a pew in the back. She'd hide out here for now, just until she knew the coast was clear.

"Oh hello, Dorothea!"

Goddess spare her. Mercedes.

The cheerful woman sat down next to her. Dorothea tried not to groan.

It wasn't fair of her, but some part of her just expected Mercedes to preach to her. It was why she avoided her and Marianne. Ferdinand infuriated her with his talk of religion too.

But her mask didn't fall. "Hello, Mercie. I was just in the area and wanted to take a seat for a quick rest."

Mercedes smiled. Why was it that every girl that went to the academy was attractive? Dorothea felt like Sylvain. "Well," her new companion said, "I was just on my way to pray. Usually that's why I'm in here, but you're right, it's a nice place to just sit."

"It's quiet," Dorothea said. "And you can get lost in the architecture."

"You're right! I don't have an eye for that kind of stuff. The church I spent most of my time at was far more humble." Mercedes lowered her voice. "To be honest, I was intimidated my first week to come in here. What right did I, a poor woman, have in here?"

"Doesn't your Goddess see everyone equally or something?" Dorothea asked, managing to keep her scorn from her voice.

Mercedes nodded. "Oh, I think so. I'm sure some would disagree. Don't you think that if the Goddess could create the whole world, she would value everything she creates?"

Probably only the ones who groveled at her feet, Dorothea thought. "I'm not much one for religion. I suppose that you're probably right."

The fair haired woman looked forward. "I won't try to convert you, don't worry, Dorothea."

"Am I that obvious?" Dorothea asked. "Perhaps I'm not as good of an actor as I thought."

Mercedes giggled. "Oh, no, you're quite talented. You're just not the first person to think that around me. I suppose I'm holier than most. So people assume." She didn't seem overly bothered about it.

It made Dorothea relax. Perhaps she'd judged her wrong. "Thanks for understanding. In the Empire, there's plenty of those types."

"Ah." She nodded. "A shame. Faith needs to be something you come into on your own. To believe, it requires a certain certainty, I think."

Dorothea shrugged. "I'll admit that it's admirable that people like you can believe in something you can't see or confirm. I couldn't do that."

Mercedes offered a small smile. "Well, seeing is the death of believing, isn't it? I know that the leaves change color in autumn because it's fact. No one praises me for believing that, do they?"

Dorothea opened her mouth to respond, then stopped. Huh. She'd never thought about it that way.

The Deer didn't seem to be paying attention. "That's not to say it isn't hard. Bad things happen to everyone. You can devote yourself to the Goddess and some things she continues to test you with. Like my brother…" The last words were muttered, as if she'd forgotten where she was. Blinking, she gasped. "Oh, forgive me! I'm preaching, just what I said I wouldn't do."

"No, no," Dorothea reassured her, unoffended and still off-kilter. "Don't worry about it. It's a passion of yours, like singing is for me. Maybe that's why you're so talented at White magic."

"Oh, flattery." Mercedes batted her eyelashes playfully. "Word around the monastery is that you're quite the charmer, Dorothea. Some say there's not a person you won't flirt with. Depending on who you ask, some say you've even tried to woo Seteth!" She giggled at her own joke.

Dorothea laughed, feeling hollow inside. Is that really what she was seen as? A flirt? No better than Sylvain?

Was that what Edelgard saw her as?

"Oh dear, I've said something wrong," Mercedes said, noticing immediately.

This woman noticed everything, Goddess. "Not you, dear. I just didn't know that's what people thought about me," she said.

"Everyone likes a compliment," Mercedes said, trying to reassure her. "A little praise feels good."

"Mercedes," Dorothea began, "does your Goddess frown on jealousy?"

"Oh!" She leaned back, thinking. "I don't think the Goddess frowns on it, per se. She created us able to feel it. At least I think so. If it makes someone else unhappy, then maybe she'd disapprove…" Mercedes drifted off.

Dorothea laughed, feeling a slight bit better. "Do you think the Goddess got a laugh out of making us so flawed?"

Mercedes just smiled. "I think it's the flaws that help make people beautiful. If everyone were perfect in every way, then there certainly wouldn't be that special someone to find."

Again, Dorothea was at a loss for words. Mercedes didn't seem to mind. She looked lost in thought. Dorothea almost swore she was thinking about someone, not something.

The bell tolled the hour, breaking them out of their respective hazes. Mercedes stood up and smiled. "Forgive me, I seem to have lost track of time. I told the professor I'd meet her for tea now. Silly me, keeping track of things was never a talent of mine."

"Don't let me keep you," Dorothea said. She was surprised that she felt disappointed that Mercedes was leaving.

"We should chat again sometime." When Dorothea nodded, Mercedes sped off.

And fifteen minutes ago, Dorothea hadn't thought much of Mercedes.

"You're better with people than I am," Dorothea muttered to herself. "Jaded Dorothea. Dorothea the slut. Maybe that's what they call me…"

She stayed in the pew for the rest of the afternoon, thinking.

Byleth woke from her nightmare without much affair. They were regular occurrences now, ever since she'd stopped drinking. So were the headaches. But thankfully she had a nice pillow.

That pillow in question was Mercedes, curled up next to her in bed.

Neither had exactly planned on their sleeping arrangement. But ever since the Mausoleum, Byleth had been having trouble sleeping. Mercedes had snuck into her room and stayed. Now, whenever they could, they slept together.

It wasn't anything racy. They just took comfort in each other's presence. When Mercedes was near, Byleth could actually fall asleep. The nightmares persisted, but they weren't as bad with her near.

Mercedes' breathing was slow when she slept. When Byleth woke up like this, she just watched Mercedes' chest rise and lower.

Her room had never really felt like a home before, but when Mercedes was there, it felt warmer. Like there was reason to find her way back each day instead of passing out drunk somewhere.

A hand ran its way through her hair. Mercedes kissed Byleth's forehead and whispered, "You okay?"

She nodded and nuzzled into Mercedes more. The hand in her hair kept going while Mercedes began to hum softly.

Byleth slowly was lulled back into sleep.

Lorenz stared at the piece of paper in front of him. Night had fallen and the monastery was quiet. There was nothing to disturb him.

Yet he could not find the will to write to his father.

Count Leander Beauregard Gloucester had spared his son a single letter in the entirety of his stay at Garreg Mach. A request, to deal with Acheron. Lorenz had written back that his mission at Conand Tower conflicted with it. He'd received no response.

So it seemed proper to write back again. He did not like to be in the habit of disappointing his father. Surely he could chronicle his exploits of worming his way into Claude's good graces. About how his studies in magic were going. About how one day he'd wield Thyrsus and make his father proud.

But the letter stayed blank.

Lorenz scoffed and stood up. He'd go for a walk and attend to it later.

Students were discouraged from wandering the grounds late at night, but it wasn't prohibited. Going up on the ramparts were, but that was for the sake of the Knights patrolling them. There was a story or two about a student who snuck up there and was harmed, thought to be an intruder.

But Lorenz didn't seek to violate any protocol, at risk of punishment or running into whatever students planned trysts up there. He'd overheard some planning it, as if it were a good idea.

Children.

Instead, he sat on the staircase closest to the greenhouse. The moon hung in the sky, dousing the grounds with light. It was a beautiful sight, if a bit chilly.

It was the middle of the Horsebow Moon. Fall had arrived and with it the reminder that he had been here for near six months.

The academy hadn't been what he expected. His teacher hadn't been what he expected. The missions hadn't been what he expected. The Church, Edelgard, Dimitri, his house, none of it he could have anticipated.

Six months ago, he'd been planning to take control of the Alliance. Now, he saw Claude for someone different. A rascal, of course, but one with good intentions. Should he keep his wit in check more? Yes, but that could hardly be a reason to hate the man.

It surprised Lorenz that he considered Claude a friend.

He'd hated the man when he heard about him. The heir from nowhere. One who would take away the windfall that was to give Lorenz the most powerful seat in the Alliance.

That Lorenz had thought about power. Now, duty rang true in his mind. Power didn't give him the capacity to make the world a better place. His lands, well, his father's lands, were teeming with strife. Not even a minor lord like Acheron would stay in line.

Did Lorenz really deserve to lead the Alliance?

No, he'd decided.

It hurt, a knife through his chest. He'd been raised to know he was noble and know that he was capable. Coming to the academy made him realize just how much trouble there was among the commonfolk in the Gloucester lands.

Speaking with Ignatz, Raphael, Leonie, he'd payed attention. They'd been so apprehensive of him at first, he'd been bewildered by it. But now he knew they'd seen him for his father. Leander didn't see commoners with the same eyes that Lorenz did. Love didn't describe what he felt for his father. Respect, more likely. He wondered what the others felt about their parents.

Leonie, orphan. Raphael, no parents. Claude, secrets. Marianne, not forthcoming. Hilda, apathetic. Mercedes, loving. Ignatz, fond.

With a few exceptions, their families were scattered. Lorenz hadn't a mother. She'd passed away when he was young. He'd been more attached to his nursemaid.

He sighed towards the moon. Coming outside wasn't doing anything to clear his head, alas. Still, the crisp air felt good.

Whatever had happened to that nursemaid, he wondered. Strange to think someone like that had just vanished from his life as his father pushed him into lessons to prepare him.

In a single moment, he felt alone sitting on those steps.

"Lorenz?"

He turned to see Ignatz out of breath. The merchant's son leaned on his crutch, holding a bow in his other hand.

"Oh, hello, Ignatz. Care to join me?" he invited.

His friend walked up slowly. Lorenz moved to help but Ignatz waved him off as he slowly lowered himself to the ground with a grunt.

"What in the Goddess' name has you up so late?" Lorenz asked, bewildered. Some students he expected to run into late at night. Ignatz was not one of them.

"Training," answered Ignatz. He seemed sheepish, reticent, as if he worried about judgement. "Shamir is training me, but I want to get better. I want to come with on missions. She made Seteth back off from sending me home, I can't let her down."

Lorenz' eyes widened. "Training at night? Have you been sleeping?"

Ignatx hesitated. "I have to get better."

"You'll run yourself into the ground at this rate." Lorenz shook his head. Foolish boy! Did he not realize that sleep was as necessary to improvement as training was? "Cease this, or I shall let Claude know. I hazard a guess he won't be as gentle as I."

His friend chuckled. "He's a regular mother wyvern. Lorenz…" Ignatz trailed off for a moment. "I'll take it easy, but I need to get better. You all, you're…" He chewed on the word for a couple seconds. "You're important to me. I can't let you down."

Lorenz scoffed. "As if you'd let us down. Not everything is about saving each other's lives on the battlefield. You need not save my life for every time I save yours."

"I just want to repay everyone somehow."

You have, Lorenz didn't say. You're my friend. You've shown me what family should act like. You didn't turn me away.

Instead, "Friendship is not about repayment. It just is. We help each other as needed. Let's help each other by saying it's time for us to turn in. Sleep late, I shall appeal to the professor in the morning for you."

Ignatz nodded, already yawning. For once, he accepted Lorenz' help standing up. They walked slowly to their rooms, Ignatz' first.

"What were you doing out so late, Lorenz? I never asked," his sleepy companion asked.

Lorenz brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. "Oh, just getting some air. A beautiful night ought to be enjoyed."

He made sure Ignatz made it into his room before departing for his own. The letter went unwritten.

And that didn't bother him.

Claude never knew a library not to have answers.

He was there late, again. Though he was there late most days now.

The Relics, so many questions. The conversation with Silas had been a reminder that he wouldn't be walking back into a place of power after graduation. His grandfather was, unfortunately, made of sterner stuff than he expected. Even from his bed, he ruled. Not well, but enough to not warrant Claude to appeal to the Roundtable.

He ought to poison him.

The plan had occurred to him before. Slip poison in the old man's meals, have him die from symptoms similar to his condition. No one would think otherwise. No one would know.

But could he kill his own family? Bastard he was, he was Claude's flesh and blood.

Tiana von Riegan hadn't had many pleasant memories of her father, but she hadn't ever complained about him. According to her, he was like many things in life. Average.

She wasn't Almyran. And she hadn't stuck around to see how furious Silas had been with her marriage. Or maybe it was Tiana's marriage that drove him that far.

Sympathy for a devil, Claude sighed to himself. He'd been graced with the talent of seeing the logic behind anyone's argument.

Even once he got power and became the Sovereign Duke, busting open Fódlan's locket wasn't something he could snap his fingers and make happen. He needed something that would make anyone listen to him.

The Sword of the Creator was an idea, but Teach was her own woman. He could use her, but what if she hated Almyrans? Claude didn't think she did, but snakes hid from their prey. You could never be sure.

The first man he'd ever killed hadn't been a man. Malik was a cousin of his, trying to kill Claude. The boy just two years his senior was several spots down the line of succession and he'd thought to remove Claude while he could.

Claude had pushed Malik out a window in their scuffle. He'd gone down into the courtyard to clean up the body as best he could. It'd taken hours to put the body beneath another window sill and wash blood off the stone.

Fódlan's Goddess, the Almyran gods, whomever, had sent a rainstorm that destroyed the evidence that night. And his crime was a secret.

Oh, there had been an investigation, called for by his own father. But why suspect Claude? An innocent boy couldn't do something so horrid.

It was then that he learned a smile was the best lie of all. Smiles on his relatives, on the guards, on other princes, all of them. Everyone plotted and Claude played catchup.

The reason he wasn't dead was Nader. The man took a liking to him, somehow. Liked his jokes, he told him once. When the greatest general in the history of Almyra liked someone, it scared away all but the bold.

And that left Claude, alone, pitted against the smartest of his relatives who coveted his direct line to the throne.

Silas' offer for Claude to come to Leicester had been an opportunity to not only come into power unopposed, but to survive into his adulthood. His parents had invented a story about going to Morfis to buy him time. Not even they knew his true goal of bringing nations together. They simply thought him curious about Fódlan.

He let them think that. It'd keep them worrying less.

Failnaught would be his. One day, he'd have friends in nearly every major noble house in Leicester. His dream, he realized, could be accomplished in mere decades.

But how many poor boys would be spit on as he was? How many lacked his resilience?

Claude was no moron. Being noble meant that he hadn't faced the discrimination others in his shoes met. But his slights were of different make. Lack of dance partners at balls, gazes that never left him, the insults, all of it. He could tolerate them, but he had no friends in Almyra.

That had hurt.

A ten year old boy who only had a wyvern for a friend. All because all the other parents pointed him out and told their kids that he was a half-breed. A mongrel. Pretender. Not to be trusted. The list went on.

Claude set his book down. He wouldn't get any more work done tonight.

He headed back to his room, avoiding anyone he saw on the way back. Even he liked alone time.

Just as he opened up his door, Hilda poked her head out of her room, next to his. She was smiling mischievously for a moment before the look vanished. "You're upset," she whispered.

Claude sighed. "I don't have the energy to talk tonight, Hils. We can chat tomorrow."

Hilda looked up and down the hallway and saw no one, then stepped out in only her nightgown. She grabbed Claude's arm and pulled him into her room.

"Being sad means I get to cheer you up," she said, simply. "You're lucky I like doing it, Claudey." He couldn't help but smile as she began to ramble about her day with Marianne to distract him.

Having friends was still taking some getting used to.

Author Notes: We've had several sorts of dalliances between characters in the past few chapters that could be read as starts to romance. Maybe some will be. For my AO3 readers, any pair I tag at the top you can consider as those two will get together. Obviously, there's only Claude and Byleth up there right now. I'll add more as things continue. Often times, buds of romance don't go anywhere in life. The same is true in this fic. For my FFnet readers, um, the tagging system sucks on this site. So sorry, no visual cues for you.

Editing Notes:
4/14/2021: Cleaned up multiple unclear sentences. Restructured paragraphs to smooth together better. Minor grammatical adjustments.
7/30/2021: Minor grammar adjustments.