When she noticed Felix had remained behind in the war room, Leonie didn't say anything, balancing arithmetic in her head. When she jotted down the number onto parchment, she addressed him. "Something I can help you with?"
Felix watched for a moment before shaking his head. "No. You're just the most different out of everyone. Got distracted."
What gave it away, the fact that she sat here instead of marched to war? Her calculations of troop counts? Or maybe just her exhaustion.
"I suppose," she said, noncommittal. "Five years is a long time."
He hummed and said nothing else. But still he stood there, in the door, as if waiting for something.
Leonie tried small talk. "How's Sylvain?"
"Good," Felix answered. "Better, with the boar back."
"Why do you call him that?" she finally asked. Hell, she'd wondered for years where it had come from.
Felix shrugged. "He's boorish."
"It's a pun?"
"Yes, but that wasn't the intent."
Odd. "I don't see it."
"Yeah," Felix murmured. "He's changed since then. I don't recognize him anymore. Even before, he was something of himself. Now? Sylv thinks Dimitri is going to help us. I just see a dead man."
"Dimitri was always kind to me," Leonie said, remembering. "Even when he had no reason to be."
The Faerghan man nodded, as if expecting it. "Always wanted him to bite back and stop being such a prissy thing." Softer, "Now I'm afraid I got what I wanted."
"What do you think will happen?" Leonie asked. "Will he take command again?" Should he, she didn't say.
But Felix thought the same. "If he was right in the head, maybe. But I can't say he wouldn't lead us into some idiotic play to kill Edelgard. For better or worse, Sylvain is the head of the Kingdom now."
A grin quirked onto her lips. "So supportive, Felix."
The man growled. "I can love my husband while also thinking he's an irredeemable fool."
Despite what Felix wanted everyone to think, Leonie couldn't help but smile at how he'd come to love the man. With the world plunging into the Eternal Flames, it was some comfort.
"I am surprised Rodrigue isn't taking control," Leonie said, glancing down at the papers in front of her. "Early on, it seemed like he would."
Felix froze. He stepped forward and took a seat at the long table. His hands were shaking, earthquakes in his veins.
"Felix?" she said.
"I killed Rodrigue a week ago," Felix said. His eyes had glazed over, as if not even aware he was speaking. "He found out Dimitri was alive, wanted to install him into authority."
Leonie said nothing, mouth agape.
The faraway look vanished, replaced by cold, unflinching steel. "The man had his vows, I have mine. To my husband, my king, and my country. I killed him."
"You…didn't say this at the meeting," Leonie said, eyes darting to Claude's empty seat.
Felix clenched his hand on the table until it was red. "Wasn't part of my report. Rodrigue died in an ambush from imperials. Stood his ground while his soldiers fled. He was a martyr, a hero. That's all there is to it."
"Felix—"
"That's. All," he ground out. Rage spun within him, but he did not direct it at her.
"Why tell me?" Leonie asked in a small voice.
He stood. "Don't know. Supposed I should tell someone. Someone should know to condemn me." Without anything else, he left. Leonie was alone in the room.
The first instinct that burned through her would send her to Claude, to report what she just heard. And she even stood up, ready to go to him.
But she stopped.
The anger in Felix's voice, that wasn't from grievances with a command structure. No, that fury came from something much deeper. Leonie eased back into her seat. It wasn't her story to tell, not her secret to spill.
Rodrigue died in an ambush. That was all there was to it.
"I don't know if I said thank you for taking me back in," Shamir said, "but thank you."
"Think nothing of it," Claude said. Together they walked in the gardens, Ferdinand trailing closely behind them. "You were one of us. Are, one of us. You protected Petra. My heart tells me that's enough. This is your home, so long as you need it."
"You're naïve," Shamir stated. Her expression softened. "Maybe I am too."
"I think we both know that isn't true, for either of us," Claude said. He stopped by a rose bush, freshly pruned by Lorenz before he left. "Family is family. And you are a part of this family, Shamir."
Shamir didn't meet his gaze. "I think you forgive too easily."
He did, perhaps. But Ferdinand didn't. It was a reason the two of them complimented each other so well. Let Ferdinand carry the suspicion, for all he saw in the woman was a broken heart.
"The world is full of pain, anger, and hurt," Claude said, brushing a finger over one of the rose's thorns. "Forgiveness is a balm to heal that. It doesn't break the cycle of hate, but it does dull its bite." He glanced at her. "Don't you think forgiveness would do you well?"
Memories embroiled her as her shoulder sagged. "Don't know if I deserve it."
No words were needed to know who she was talking about. Claude nodded, understanding. "That's not your decision to make, Shamir. Whether you're forgivable is meted out by those you've wronged."
"Do you honestly think she will?" Shamir asked. It was hidden, but there was hope in those words.
He didn't know. Couldn't know. "There's only one way to find out. But you should try to forgive yourself.
She wrinkled her nose. "Thought you said only she could decide that."
Claude breathed in the scent of a rose. He sighed in that brief eternity that the aroma lingered. "If she does still love you, she'd want you to not torture yourself like this."
"I don't torture myself," Shamir objected.
He looked at her with an eyebrow raised.
Shamir scowled. "Fine. You made your point."
"Both of you are my friends," Claude said, stepping away from the flowers. "I want you both to be happy. But I think each of you have your own demons to deal with before you can understand each other."
He rested a hand on her shoulder. "Only she can forgive you for the hurt you caused her, but you need to forgive yourself for the hurt you caused yourself."
For a moment a snarl nearly materialized on her lips. Then, she paused. "Thank you, Claude."
Nodding, approving, he let go of her. They continued walking, this time in silence, taking in the quiet.
Had they been looking up, they might have seen a shadow dart out of the ramparts, watching them.
"Did Cici find you?"
"Who the hell is Cici?" Byleth said, rather unsurprised. Hapi had a habit of picking nicknames she didn't understand.
Hapi leaned forward on her horse, looking down at Byleth on the ground. "It makes perfect sense. Catherine, Charon, two Cs. Cici."
It did make more sense than other nicknames. That didn't say much, though.
"She's giving the order, we leave in five," Byleth said. It was the last part of the supply line they needed to set up, the Oghma mountains watching over them in the distance. Myrddin was a little more than a day away.
Byleth pulled herself up onto her horse. They had a little catch up to make with the main Coalition host. Around them, soldiers saddled up and prepared to leave.
"You ever fight in a battle, Queen?" Hapi asked. "Like one of those big ones, with generals and the like."
"Few times," Byleth said. "I fought at Garreg Mach five years ago. Plus a few before that as a mercenary. Border disputes with Sreng, a rebellion in Rysalka, others. Got my moniker in the latter, actually."
Hapi cocked her head, interested. "You had a fancy name? Did it strike fear in people?"
"It was the Ashen Demon."
"That's stupid," Hapi said. "Why that?"
Byleth shrugged. "I was cold. Dispassionate. No emotion."
She snorted. "As if. You're not any of those three. Now if they called you 'Angry Bitch' or something—"
A hand pushed Hapi off her horse. Byleth sported a wry grin as she leaned back into her saddle. "Go fuck Constance or something, Hapi."
"Hey!" she protested. "Coco and I are…okay, yeah, that. Got me there." Hapi climbed back onto her horse, watching Byleth warily.
"So you are together," Byleth said, grinning. "Not that we thought otherwise, but Balthus and I had a bet when you'd finally admit it."
"We're something, okay?" Hapi growled. "Now, shut up. I wanted to ask you what a battle was like and have a moment with you, but now you've gone and ruined it.
"Battle is battle," Byleth said. "People are going to die. Best thing we can do is look out for each other. Kill whoever is trying to kill you. Nothing is different."
"Great pep talk, Queen," Hapi said as Catherine drew closer to them, atop her own steed.
Byleth palmed her flask and took a sip. "You expect much from the Angry Bitch?"
Hapi laughed. Byleth smiled.
The moon drew high in the night as Lorenz entered the tent, a mile away from Myrddin. Judith looked up at him, nodding.
"I've posted guards around Lysithea's tent," he said, taking a seat across from her at the table. "It's not altogether subtle, but it'll do the job."
"Good work," she said. "That's all I'll need you for tonight. Get some rest, say your goodbyes."
"That grim about our chances?" Lorenz tried to joke, but cold set into his heart.
Judith's expression was terse, held taught by pain. "I'm older than you, kid. I've got plenty of regrets. Every battle I fight in now, I assume I won't come back. I keep things settled, just in case."
"And have you this time?" he asked.
She closed her eyes. "All the ones that time hasn't stolen from me."
Lorenz stood up. "I appreciate the thought, but I won't do the same. Because I will be coming back. Walking into battle with nothing to survive for is tantamount to suicide."
Judith sighed. "Not quite what I meant, but fair enough. I just…never mind. Don't want you to make the same mistakes as I have."
"Judith, are you alright?" he asked slowly.
A grin that didn't meet her eyes sprang up. "Damn right I am. Now go, do whatever you need to do before dawn. I need you at your best for the vanguard."
He nodded and turned to walk away. Pausing, he looked back. "Judith, if there's anything you want to talk about, you can always come find me."
She gave him a long, appraising look. "You're a good person, Lorenz. Nothing like your father." Judith looked back down at the map before her. "Get going, I'll see you in a few hours."
Reluctantly, he left.
Elsewhere in the war camp, Hilda hugged Raphael. "Be safe, okay?"
He smiled that smile only Raphael could. "I'll be careful. And I'll keep an eye on Marianne if I can. The group she's stationed with should meet with mine soon into the battle."
Hilda nodded. "Thank you, but I'm not as worried about her in this battle. You, you're going with the Gloucester soldiers."
"I know," he said, and the smile slipped for the most imperceptible of moments. Too slow for Hilda to miss. "Judith needs someone reliable to keep them in check."
"Let someone else, then," Hilda insisted. "If they try something…we can't lose you, Raph."
He pulled her into another hug. "We all knew there'd be risks when we signed onto this, Hilda. But I give you my word, I will not die. Not while you, the others, and Maya, are counting on me. This world has more to offer me."
"Is that a promise?" Hilda asked.
Nodding, he stepped away. "Of course."
"Then I'll be holding you to it."
In the eyes of the Goddess, Marianne bent her head over the side of her bed. The war was scant hours away, but time was still hers.
"Goddess," she began.
Leonie thrashed in her bed, beset by nightmares. For a moment, they receded, as if by divine intervention.
"I beg for your protection tomorrow, and the coming days."
Raphael checked his gauntlets, making sure the blades were sharpened and ready for battle. He looked at the moon, watching its slow progress through the sky.
"It's by your grace that we flourish on this world."
Judith tipped back a shot of whiskey, fingering the locket around her neck. With a resolute sigh, she grabbed her rapier.
"As we stray into this darker path, I pray you keep us on the path of the light."
Hilda drew the whetstone back and forth, back and forth. Sparks from the metal were all that offered illumination.
"Protect us from the ills of battle."
Dorothea waved a hand forward, ushering several of her operatives to creep down the hall. She bit her lip, electricity tingling at her fingers.
"Protect us should we fall."
Claude rubbed his eyes sleepily, lighting a new candle as his work poured into the night. A yawn escaped his mouth, but he showed no signs of backing down.
"Protect us from the darkness we hold ourselves in."
Byleth emptied her flask in a single gulp. The road ahead in the dark was still long.
"We honor you, hold you in our hearts."
Ferdinand flinched at a sound down the hallway from him. Resting a hand onto his blade, he slowly walked toward it.
"We will walk with you in eternity, in the years to come."
Ignatz gasped in pain as he stumbled to the ground. He gave up, reaching for his leg brace he'd set aside briefly.
"Life after death is just life anew."
Shamir heard a sharp noise from the floor above her. A loud gasp, a man's, echoed in the silent manor.
"But for our time under the sun, hold us dear."
Catherine looked to the moon, full. Then, the stars, glimmering in their light shed.
"So Goddess, I pray to you."
Hapi longed for her Coco's hand in hers. The earlier day's conversation nipped at the back of her mind.
"Protect us, shelter us, in the fights ahead."
Yuri attached a small scroll of paper to the raven's foot. It flew from his hand, off into the night.
"I beg of you."
Mercedes ducked into a small closet as soldiers began to march through the estate. Under her breath, she swore.
Marianne stood up, brushing wrinkles from her dress.
Miles away, Holst gave the command to attack.
And so the war began.
Editing Notes:
7/26/2021: Minor grammar adjustments.
1/7/2022: Minor grammar adjustments.