"Dead?" Ferdinand gasped.
Shamir nodded, swaying tiredly. Ferdinand's chair was pulled out and she fell into it as if the weight of the world had crashed down on her shoulders.
"Who killed him?" Claude asked, standing.
The archer closed her eyes. "Edelgard's Shrike. Done with killing in the north, making her way down here."
"Her?" Claude caught the pronoun. "Intel says the Shrike is Hubert."
Shamir cracked an eye open and sighed. "Fuck, Claude. The Shrike is Petra."
"That can't be true," Ferdinand exclaimed, leaning forward. "Petra hates the Empire, she'd never help Edelgard." He paused, looking to Claude, unsure. "Would she?"
"Tell us everything," Claude asked.
"I will, but first we have to make a deal," Shamir said, sitting up wearily in her chair. "I tell you what I know, you don't take any action against me. It's like I never left."
His eyes narrowed. "Shamir, what did you do?"
Her response was a half-cocked grin, the kind that told him she had nothing to lose and everything to gain. He looked to Ferdinand, who nodded in agreement.
"Fine. Let's hear it," Claude accepted, sitting down. Ferdinand pulled up another chair by Claude's desk and sat.
"I went to the Empire after I left here," she said. "Wanted to look for Petra, see if she was okay. Always liked her, wanted her to make it out of all this. Ignatz was safe, figured my time here was done. So, I left."
Shamir looked away. "Edelgard's got her head in a noose. If Petra disobeys, then Hubert will use the full might of the Empire to attack Brigid. Don't know if it's a legit threat, but Petra believes it."
"Did they hire you?" Claude asked.
"I killed for them, if that's what you're asking," Shamir said, sighing. "I was all that girl had there, so I stayed." She winced. "I did some things that I regret. Killed a lot of Kingdom and Alliance people. But I kept that girl safe and made her into what she is now."
"An assassin," Ferdinand accused.
"A survivor," Shamir countered. "Petra's in the maw of the beast, trying to keep her people safe and not kill her friends. Best I could do was keep her alive." She narrowed her eyes at Ferdinand. "And you won't hear me apologizing for that."
"Both of you," chided Claude, though he battled his own unease. "So, Petra's the one who has been killing across Faerghus? Sylvain's father, the Kleimans, the rest?"
"All of them," Shamir said. "I helped with most, but she's the one who's killed them."
"Why help? Why not try to help her escape instead?" Claude asked.
"Wouldn't let me. Too scared about her people. I wanted to call Hubert's bluff, she didn't. It was her call." She sighed. "That kid is…look, I'm not the mothering type. But I want that girl to make it."
"Like Ignatz?" Claude asked.
"She was fifteen," Shamir said quietly. "No girl should have to go through that at that age. I would know." The last part was whispered, and Claude nearly missed it.
He didn't comment on it. "I won't judge you, Shamir. I'm just trying to understand."
She waved a hand in dismissal. "Point is, I trained her. She was planning a hit on someone notable in the Alliance in the month before I left. Told me she had to wait for the right time."
"You didn't help that time?" Ferdinand asked. Claude nodded, echoing the question.
"Kid's good enough without my help. Better than anyone I've seen. Better than me. Empire had me killing Kingdom patrols on the border. I heard about Lysithea a few days ago. The Gloucester news is just hitting Derdriu right now. Probably will be everywhere by the morning."
It matched the Shrike—Petra's—MO. Kill loudly, publicly, and cause a scare. His agents would probably be knocking on his door any second if that was the case, bringing news of his biggest opponent's death.
"Why leave?" Claude asked. "I think I understand the rest, but leaving her alone? Doesn't sound like you."
Shamir was silent for a long time. Then, "I was selfish."
"Selfish?"
"Wanted to come find Catherine. Tell her sorry."
He nodded. "She's not here at the moment. I have her on an assignment. Don't know when she'll be back."
"I know. She told me in a letter, said she might not be coming back. I rode three horses to death to make it here." Shamir rubbed her eyes. "I knew I wouldn't make it in time. Had to try anyway."
Claude's eyes softened. "You have a home here, Shamir. Catherine should be reporting in soon. You're welcome to stay here."
"Thanks," she said.
"If Gloucester is dead, we'll have a lot to do before tomorrow evening," Claude said, looking to Ferdinand. Tomorrow evening was the vote for war. "I'll speak with you tomorrow, Shamir. For now, Catherine's room is down the hall. You can stay there while we find you a room."
She nodded, tired. "I might sleep all of tomorrow. It wasn't a good journey. Wake me if you need me."
"Do what you need." He bid her good evening, letting the woman slink out the door.
The second the door closed, Ferdinand rounded on him. "Do you buy that?"
"Her story? Yeah, I do," Claude said.
Ferdinand's gaze hardened. "What if she's here to kill you, Claude? Working for the Empire? It makes sense and if it's true, we can't trust her."
Claude frowned.
He continued. "You think she just suddenly started caring about Catherine again? She left her, no words said, five years ago. Half a decade later, she shows up as if she cares? You can't tell me that's not suspicious." Claude could see the friendship between Ferdinand and Catherine rearing its head, manifesting in Ferdinand's protective streak.
A counter argument rose in him, but he stopped. Goddess, Ferdinand was making sense.
"Have Leonie keep people watching her. Post guards at the room," Claude ordered. "Make sure she stays there. Have two people watch the window as well. If she tries to leave, take her alive."
"And if she resists?" Ferdinand asked.
"Do what must be done."
Byleth bit her lip as the mountains grew smaller around them. They'd still be in the Oghmas for hours yet, but as soon as they left their obscuring peaks, stealth was foregone. It was unlikely the Empire was watching the border carefully with a threatening force, but the longer their Coalition stayed secret, the better.
"You've been quiet," Catherine said, riding next to her. Their horses walked at a slow pace, positioned in the back of the Coalition force.
Their target was Myrddin, but they had to set up supply lines. With Ignatz' assurances that Claude would join their campaign, Seteth made the decision to go all in. This wouldn't be a quick war, it'd be a long, protracted stratagem. Garreg Mach would be their base, where supplies flowed from. The Oghmas protected it, along with a token Abyss force left behind.
Byleth and Catherine were in the back helping set up said supply lines. Seteth, Ignatz, and Yuri led the vanguard. It put her on edge, not being at the front. Her student, her friends, they were at the front while she was relegated to the back.
She sighed. It was simple tactics, she was making a bigger deal over this than it was. After getting Ignatz back, she didn't want to lose him. Her only Deer back in her life.
"You alive in there?" Catherine said, clearly bored. The same anxieties that plagued Byleth were nonexistent in Catherine. In fact, she looked far happier in the back of the pack.
"Sorry, lost in my thoughts," Byleth said. "Something you wanted to talk about?"
"Not really," Catherine said. "Just nice to be back with you, I suppose."
That surprised her. She'd never been close to Catherine.
When she said so, Catherine laughed, "Shamir talked about you a lot. Well, a lot for Shamir, I guess. Felt like I got to know you, to an extent."
"Never would have thought Shamir would talk about anyone," Byleth admitted. "Except you."
Catherine ignored the last part. "She liked you, Ignatz, and Petra. Not that she disliked the rest, but you three made sense to her."
"I guess we understood each other," Byleth said. Had they? Maybe. She'd spent her year at the monastery teaching and plagued by problems, wrapped in them and her own head. "Don't know if I understood her, actually."
"You and me both, By," Catherine grumbled. She fished a flask from her horse's saddlebags. After taking a long swig, she offered it to Byleth.
She took it. While she drank, Catherine said, "Thanks, again, for taking command."
"It made sense," Byleth said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She capped the flask and tossed it back. "Probably what my dad would want from me."
Catherine nodded. "For the little I knew him, I think that's true. You're a good fit for it."
'Unlike me' went unsaid. Byleth didn't know if she agreed, but she accepted all the same. "I appreciate it. It's good to have a familiar face as my second."
A beat of silence passed before Catherine said, "Hey, can I ask you a question?"
Byleth glanced at her, nodding.
"Do you…ever think about Mercedes?" Catherine asked.
Had she been walking, she would have stopped. But her horse kept trotting forward, unperturbed with the emotional tempest that brewed on its back.
"Every day," Byleth murmured.
"Does it ever get better?" Catherine wasn't looking at her, she looked everywhere except Byleth, pain eating away at her.
Morose, Byleth shook her head. "No."
"Yeah, that's what I expected," Catherine said.
"Do you…know how she's been?" Byleth asked. "Ignatz avoided my question when I asked him."
"She's alive, last I heard," Catherine said. "Don't know much more, I spent most of the past five years looking out for Ig." She paused, deciding whether to say what was on her mind. "You haven't heard from Shamir, have you?"
"No," Byleth said. "I'm sorry."
Catherine nodded, expecting it. "Well, fuck us, right?"
"Fuck us," she echoed.
"And when you're done with that, Marcie, fetch my usual from the kitchens," Lady Sylvia von Ordelia ordered from her desk. "It'll be a late night for me."
Mercedes bowed low. "As you wish, milady." She slipped out of the room as quietly as she'd entered.
Of the two guards at the door, one of them met Mercedes' eyes briefly. One of hers. The other spared her a passing glance and nothing more. Servants were invisible.
The Ordelia Manse wasn't the main property of the Ordelias, but Sylvia and Carver had relocated after the Empire occupied Ordelia City. But if you dug a bit deeper, you could put pieces together. Like how they fled just outside the city and how the Empire never attempted to capture them. Like how their daughter was helping the Empire. Like how the Ordelias never attempted to petition for troops to expel the Empire from their territory.
It was a flimsy charade, an open secret. No one did anything about it because there was far more going on in the world. There was no formal war between Alliance and Empire yet, so neither side attempted to stoke the flames. The Ordelias were fortunate enough to be a problem no one had the time to deal with.
Well, until now.
Mercedes walked down the hall from Lady Ordelia's room, descending the staircase as servants moved up and down with her. She barely noticed the ones who were hers and Dorothea's.
Speaking of her betrothed, Mercedes smiled. Soon they could spend more time together, instead of passing notes in secret and avoiding contact. Dorothea was, of course, a fantastic actor and Mercedes had begun to learn she had something of a knack for it as well. Perhaps a knack was the wrong word. Being nice, deceptively so, came surprisingly easy for her. Frighteningly so.
Reconciling the moral implications of what she was doing? That didn't come as easily, no matter how much she prayed.
At the bottom of the stairs, she slipped into a storage closet. Letting the door close behind her, she fished a note from one of her people from behind a crate. A breath of speech and magic had the torch alight in the room into a small smolder. In its light, she unfolded the note.
M,
Got word from our friends. We need to meet to figure out a timeline.
Another few are headed your way.
D
Mercedes opened her hand and let flame engulf the letter in front of her, wisping out as soon as it had lit up.
Holst's army was on its way, then. Which meant their coup couldn't be more than two weeks out, maybe a little more, depending on how fast Holst moved. And Dorothea was sending more of her people to her, excellent.
With the paper she kept on her, she quickly wrote a reply.
D,
Usual spot.
Stuffing it into the hiding place, she allowed herself a moment to smile at the thought of seeing Dorothea again. With her working with the Ordelia mages, their paths had no reason to cross.
Originally, they'd come to Ordelia to help with the refugees, healing where they could and sending those they couldn't on to Derdriu. Along the way, they assembled a small network of people who shared their desire to help. These were people who would go on to help their infiltration.
Claude and Ignatz had taken notice and asked them to help. Dorothea had agreed and Mercedes followed suit. Which brought them to the current day with the Ordelias.
All the lying bothered her. Not that she was adverse to it inherently, but flagrant deception went against core tenets of the Church. The hardest part was that she was good at it.
It's just to find your brother, she'd told herself. It's just to help Claude, it'd turned into. It's to better the world.
A not-so-small part of her suspected that after parting with Annette, maybe she wasn't as much herself anymore.
No. She shut down that thought. The Ordelias facilitated the Empire's involvement here. These were soldiers from Hrym, all too familiar with how much they could abuse power. The greater Empire was focused on the war and the Alliance couldn't intervene without retribution. By staging a coup, she fought that. She helped the people.
Lies mixed with the truth were a dangerous cocktail, one she'd found herself in often. But the truth of the situation was that of the people's welfare, so her decision was made no matter what.
The Goddess had taught Mercedes to help others, especially those that could not help themselves. Healing refugees and getting them out of the situation was best.
She hoped she was right.
Playing bodyguard while Claude argued was never something he'd get used to. Ferdinand should have been proud. Instead, he stood invisible by the door as Hilda and Claude's argument escalated.
"You sent her into that place, you don't know how much that hurt her!"
"I did no such thing! She agreed, I only brought it up as a potential option that we could pursue."
"It's not like you stepped in to dissuade her, you were all too happy with my wife going to that place."
"Marianne was trying to help, so I let her. This isn't something that comes without sacrifice. Our dream, this battle, we need help!"
"Your dream, Claude. We're helping you because we love you, don't you dare abuse that."
"How dare you," Claude growled. "Don't you dare imply that you are all means to an end—don't you imply that my family in the Deer are tools."
"Got a funny way of showing it," Hilda said, meeting his tone as she stared him down.
Claude slammed a fist on the desk in his room. Ferdinand watched it wobble. "I didn't stop her because she made a fucking choice. If it is something she wanted to do, who am I to fight that?"
Hilda leaned forward until she was inch away from his face. "So putting herself into harm's way for you, that's her choice? You're not responsible to stop her from doing so?"
"Fuck you, Hilda," Claude spat. "You're better than this."
"Better than caring about my wife's wellbeing?" She scoffed. "Forgive me that I find it to be utter agony to watch my wife, my partner, my Marianne, suffer at the hands of someone all for the sake of your damn schemes!"
"Get out," Claude snarled.
"Gladly," she said, scathing. Turning heel, Hilda stomped out of the room. Sparing the briefest of glances to Ferdinand, she left.
Claude collapsed into his chair, looking at the door.
Ferdinand cleared his throat. "I'll go after her."
He nodded, distracted and not really hearing Ferdinand. The guards outside the door would be sufficient for the short time this would take. Pulling the door open and slipping into the hallway, he went after Hilda.
She'd barely made it to the stairs before he caught up with her. Hilda gave him a glance and sighed. "You here to agree with him or something?"
Ferdinand shook his head. "Let's talk in private." There was an empty room not far from where they stood. He gestured to it.
They both stepped in and exhaustion took hold on Hilda. She sagged as she sat down on the bed. "So?"
What to even say. He'd gone after her because that's what felt right to do. There was no plan of what to say.
"He shouldn't have yelled at you," Ferdinand decided to say.
"I gave it as good as I got," Hilda said, dismissive. "Had to say it, but shouldn't have been like that."
He sat down next to her. "I don't know if it helps, but I don't think he intended anything with letting Marianne go. He's not so blind as to use someone he cares for in his ambition."
"That's the thing, though," Hilda said. "He didn't stop it, or even try. Just let her go as soon as she said she would. We all know how her—how Alister treated her. We wouldn't send you to the Empire, would we?"
No, because he would volunteer for it. He chose not to mention the plans they had for the city of Aegir. "I don't think you're wrong, but I don't think he is either. Marianne decided to go. From his point of view, he respected that."
"Maybe he should consider that with Marianne, there's always a risk that she might be trying to destroy herself," Hilda shot back. "She's come so far since five years ago. Marianne's so radiant now and I'm terrified she might go back to how she was."
Ah, so that's what it was. "Have you talked to Marianne about this?" he asked.
"She insists I'm worrying needlessly. I hope she's right," Hilda murmured. "I worry about things more than I let on."
Ferdinand stood up. "Then let me talk to Claude, see if I can get him to see things how you do. I don't think either of you are wrong, but maybe I can help."
Hilda looked up at him. "Why?"
"Pardon?" he asked, confused.
"Why do you care so much about us?" she said. "We barely got to spend time together at the monastery. Eternal Flames, you and I never even spoke before the battle. Why do this for me?"
He smiled. "Hilda, it's honestly quite simple. Before I met you, Claude, everyone else, things were bad. Now, things are better. You are all good people—something I've come to realize I've been deprived of for a long time. Realize it or not, you've all done so much for me." Ferdinand paused. "Marianne isn't the only one who struggles with who they are, with their happiness."
"You?" Her eyes lit with surprise.
"Sometimes you don't realize you aren't happy until you find that happiness," he said, still smiling. "Now, I feel content with where I am and what I do. So yes, I will raze the world to the ground for the sake of the Deer. I might not be from the Alliance, but it is my home."
She stood up. "I guess I ought to apologize then." Like a mirror, his smile was reflected. "I didn't know you felt that way."
He rested a hand on her shoulder. "No apology is necessary. Family loves regardless."
A hand rested on top of his and squeezed. "Thank you, Ferdinand."
"Go see Marianne, I'll let you know once I've talked to Claude."
They left the room together and split their own ways. Ferdinand continued back towards the room, trying to put together what to say to Claude. His love for the man, for all the Deer, was absolute. He meant it that he'd do whatever it took for them. Even if that meant a betrayal.
A letter burned in his back pocket, Ignatz' latest report. He was alive, a relief, but he had news.
News of Byleth Eisner, alive.
If the house knew, everyone would flock to her to see her. He wouldn't blame them, she was their family. Ferdinand wanted to hop on his horse and leave this very moment to see her. But, with the vote so close, they couldn't afford distraction. So Ferdinand would cleave his own heart in two for this.
He trusted Ignatz to take care of it. Shame bubbled in him and he swallowed it. He'd beg for forgiveness later.
And hopefully they'd give it to him.
"Fancy sword," Raphael said, sitting down next to her.
Marianne gasped, startled, nearly dropping Blutgang. "Goddess, Raph, you surprised me."
He laughed, the booming sound of his. It drew looks from people around the wharf. "Most people wouldn't miss a big guy like me sneak up on them."
She playfully elbowed him. "I was distracted."
"Wanted to ask you how your trip went," Raphael said. His smile dimmed but was no less warm. "I know it wasn't easy. Heard Hilda was on a warpath earlier."
Her smile was soft. She closed her eyes. "She needs to say her piece to Claude. I'm not going to interfere. I'm rather…preoccupied at the moment."
Looking out to the sea, he nodded. "Was it bad?"
"It wasn't good," she said, avoiding the question. "My…Lord Edmund gave me this weapon."
Blutgang was a Relic, that much was clear. One she hadn't ever heard of and one that a few hours of scouring a library hadn't answered either.
"I assume it is tied to my Crest." She hesitated, not wanting to talk about her now lack of a Crest.
"And Claude is still having us avoid using Relics," Raphael filled in the blanks incorrectly. Well, not entirely, but not what she dwelled on.
"Yes," she said instead. "And I'm trying to figure out why Alister would freely give this to me."
"Well, we've all not used any Relics and gotten this far," Raphael reasoned. "Except for Catherine. But I guess she's still not a big monster, so she's doing something right. Seems to me the answer is to put it away and do nothing with it."
"That easy, huh?" she said, running a finger down the hilt.
He shrugged. "I'll support whatever you decide. People have been using Relics for centuries with no harm. If you want to use it, I don't think it'll hurt you."
"Thank you, Raphael," Marianne said. "I just worry about being a burden on everyone here. A powerful weapon would help."
Now Raphael's smile grew three times larger. "Marianne, you secured a vote for our side. I think that puts you as far away from burden as possible." She opened her mouth to argue and found she didn't have anything to say.
Huh. That was new.
"I suppose you're right," she admitted.
A spark of surprise passed in Raphael's eyes. She'd caught him off guard. He paid it no mind, saying, "Good. You want me to hold onto that sword for you? Out of sight, out of mind?"
"No, thank you. I'd rather not run from problems anymore," she said.
Pride blossomed all over Raphael's face as he grinned. "Good decision."
Claude settled into his seat, pushing all concerns out of his mind. Trevor arrived, which put the Roundtable at full capacity.
Well, almost. Alister had come down with illness, so he sent a proxy in his stead. His retainer, Edgar, sat at the table with them. A single scroll lay in front of him, sealed with the Edmund seal.
Then, of course, was the matter of Lysithea sitting where Count Gloucester sat.
Physically, she barely looked older. Maybe an inch or two taller, more mature hair, but she looked so similar to the academy days.
Those eyes had seen five years' worth of trouble. He knew the look, he saw it in the mirror every day. Odd as it was, the mage robes she wore adorned with the Crest of Gloucester fit her well. It was regal; power fitting its holder.
"As we are all here," Claude began, taking up leading the meeting, "let us begin. Due to circumstances, Margrave Edmund is unable to join us."
Edgar bowed his head slightly in deference.
"This session has been convened for one reason, to vote upon the Riegan war proposal. I trust you have all reviewed it. Debate concluded in our last session, so this vote is but a conclusion," he said to everyone, primarily to Lysithea. Holst nodded in silent support from across the table. "But should there be any final remarks, we will allow them."
Holst shook his head. Trevor said nothing. No one even looked at Edgar.
Lysithea spoke, "I have nothing to add that my predecessor has not said, Duke Riegan."
Formal, stiff. She'd changed. "Very well. As it is my proposal, I will begin. I vote in favor of war. This is the best avenue to stop the Empire's aggression and protect the Alliance." He glanced at the person across from him. "Lord Albrecht?"
Trevor glanced at Lysithea before clearing his throat. "I vote against the proposal. War will only fuel the fires of this conflict. Peace should be our objective."
One to one. "Lord Holst?" he prompted.
"I vote in favor of war," he said, leaving it at that. Holst leaned forward, watching Edgar.
Two to one. Now came the vote they truly needed.
Edgar slowly broke the seal and Claude waited with bated breath. Would Edmund hold his end of the bargain?
"Margrave Alister von Edmund," Edgar said, "supports the Riegan proposal. His vote is in favor."
Stress billowed out of him. Trevor shifted uncomfortably. Holst smirked. A monumental weight lifted off his shoulders, Holst's, and everyone else who had been working towards this. It was, of course, just the first step of the plan. A long, long arduous journey.
But they'd taken it. Against the odds, they'd begun to march.
"Lady Lysithea von Gloucester?" he said, turning to the final noble. Claude fought to keep his smile from his face, not abandoning all measure of etiquette in the face of victory. It was a minor thing that could do nothing but earn her goodwill, now that she held the Gloucester seat.
She watched him for a moment, as if waiting for something. Then, she spoke.
"I vote in favor of the Riegan proposal. I vote for war against the Empire."
Author Notes: Thank you all for the kind words after last chapter. Despite the heavy nature, I enjoyed our foray into our Dracula-inspired plotline. On AO3, I've made the decision to raise this story to an M rating after the last chapter (and the rest of the fic, honestly). FFnet doesn't have the same range of rating scale that I like on AO3, so dunno if I'll raise it there since M is pretty much equitable to smut on FFnet as opposed to just a more mature story.
Volta is a poetry term, referring to a poem's 'turn'. This is when the poem has a moment when its meaning change or there is some form of reveal that alters reader perception.
Editing Notes:
5/28/2021: Fixed minor continuity error.
7/26/2021: Minor grammar adjustments. Fixed minor continuity errors.
1/5/2022: Minor grammar adjustments. Fixed a minor continuity error.