He cradled her.

Fragile, that's what Lorenz would tell people she was like at the end. Fragile, but indignant.

She'd saved him. He, a man she hadn't known well.

Lorenz slowly pulled the knife from her throat, a piece of ugliness that her body didn't need. With his other hand, he closed her eyes. People often said the dead looked at peace, after passing.

Judith didn't look at peace.

"—wrong with Judith?"

He looked up. A tall man, probably as tall as Raphael, looked on in abject horror. He fell to his feet, staring at her.

"Judith…" he gasped. "I…I only left for a moment. I told her I'd be right back."

"Did you know her?" Lorenz asked. His tears started anew.

"I…" His new companion closed his eyes. "Long time ago. It's been a while. I didn't even get to…" He slammed a fist into the ground, bloodying his knuckles. "Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck."

A hand rested on Lorenz' shoulder. He turned, seeing Ignatz crouching next to him "Ig? You're here too?" Lorenz breathed.

"We'll talk later," he said, softly. Reaching out, he brushed a hand over one of Judith's. His eyes drifted towards the mangled corpse nearby. "She the one who did it?"

"Yes."

"That your work?"

"Yes."

"Good," Ignatz said, approving. "Would you…like me to take her?"

"I—" The dam he had tried to hold broke. Lorenz wailed, his horrendous scream saying all that which he could not articulate. "Goddess, Judith, I'm sorry, I'm so damn sorry—"

"Shh," Ignatz said, pulling Lorenz up. "Let's get you away."

He didn't resist, clutching Ignatz as if he were the one dying. A different set of hands took him, Ignatz whispering that he'd be back in a moment.

Strong arms held him tightly, motherly. Lorenz finally looked at who hugged him.

"Are you…are you real?" he asked, staring into Byleth's eyes.

"Yes," she whispered. "I'm here, Lorenz." Byleth held him closer.

He hugged her back, fiercely, as he cried.

"She's alive," Claude murmured, his hands shaking with the bloody paper in his hands.

"Dear Goddess," Leonie murmured, leaning forward in her chair. "Are you sure?"

He gestured to Ferdinand, unconscious, laying on a bed in the physician's room. Shamir lay on the bed next to him, similarly asleep. Both were alive, though worse for wear. "It was in Ferdinand's pocket. It's from Ignatz. I…Byleth's alive."

"I had long given up hope," Leonie admitted.

Damn him, so had he, though he'd tried to pretend otherwise. Giving up on Byleth, his teacher? His friend? His family? Damn him to the Eternal Flames for being such a pathetic excuse of a friend.

Goddess, he had loved her. No, present tense. He did love her.

"We can't be sure," Claude murmured, his analytical side taking over as his heart threatened to explode. "We'll need to confirm it, or something."

"Hey." He looked at Leonie, who look at him carefully. "It's okay to hope, Claude."

He shuddered, standing. "I need to see her, to go to her. I need—" Claude stopped. "I need to stay. I can't leave Derdriu after an assassination attempt. Lorenz would never let me."

"Claude, go to her," Leonie urged. She stood as well. "Leave Derdriu to us." She gestured to the comatose patients. "I can handle things until they're well. Between the three of us, we'll manage."

"Leonie, I don't even know where to look!" Claude lashed out. "Sorry," he said immediately. "But I wouldn't know where to begin."

"Try Myrddin," she suggested, gently. "Ignatz was supposedly on his way back, right? If he isn't back by now, he'll be with the army."

"Or he's dead," Claude said.

"Or he's dead," Leonie parroted, sitting back down in her chair. "We can play this game forever."

Claude said nothing, conflicted.

"Claude," Leonie said. "You love her. Follow your heart, for once in your damn life, and do something selfish."

Nodding slowly, he walked to her. He pressed his lips against her forehead, lightly. "Thank you," he whispered, leaving the room immediately.

Leonie remained, leaning back in the chair. This was most certainly a mistake and she found she didn't care.

"He made the right call," Shamir's shallow voice hissed.

"Shamir!" Leonie gasped, rushing to her side. "Wait, I need to get the clerics—"

"Petra," Shamir croaked. "You kill her?"

"No," Leonie answered.

Tension washed out of Shamir's body and she closed her eyes. "Healer!" Leonie screamed.

Five minutes later, Leonie was ushered out of the room for the healers to do their work. In the hallway, she saw Felix leaning against the wall opposite her.

"I thought you were due to leave this morning?" she asked, walking to him.

"Yeah, but I'm not leaving now." He scowled. "You need me more than Sylvain does." He scowled, more. "Gotta repay you for not helping last night."

"You were sleeping," Leonie said.

"No, I was training. Other side of the manor, so I didn't hear." Felix folded his arms. "I could have taken her."

Leonie nodded. "Then maybe it's better you weren't there. You would have killed her."

"Yup," he said, as if it weren't a debate.

Petra…

Leonie hadn't told anyone about the scars she'd seen on her arms or peeking out of the back of her shirt. Ones that were grouped around her tattoos. Scars that were far too precise to be an assassin's. Far too orderly.

What it meant, that wasn't for her to know. All that mattered was that there was more to Petra's story. Their friend's story.

Petra, Leonie thought, what happened to you?

"So you're leading the Alliance for now?" Felix asked.

"You listened in?" Leonie smiled faintly.

He shrugged.

"Yes," she answered. "In a sense. I don't expect anything to happen here, so it's mostly my same duties with helping the refugees. I suppose when Ferdinand wakes up he'll have a better idea of what to do."

"Can I help with the refugees?" Felix asked.

Leonie's face must have lit up in surprise because Felix rolled his eyes. "Some of them are my people. Don't think this is a habit."

"Of course not," Leonie said, hiding a smile. "I actually think I have a perfect way for you to help. How good are you at teaching soldiers?"

"Fuck," Felix grumbled, "I already regret this."

Leonie laughed.

"Holding up?" Yuri asked, stepping into the bare tent with a single cot set up.

Ignatz did not look well, but he managed to at least nod from the cot. The news had whipped through the warcamps, putting a sting in their victory. What had been a success in all ways had become a loss. Never mind that casualties were at a minimum and the Empire's forces were nearly routed in their entirety. Their leader, their general, was dead.

While the arrival of the Coalition and the Archbishop himself helped, losing the Hero of Daphnel wasn't something to bounce back from immediately. And as for those closest to her, there was the question of who would succeed her.

To Yuri, the obvious choice was the man sitting in the tent in front of them. Ignatz Victor would make for a ruthless strategist and compassionate leader. A perfect blend not seen often.

"Let's get to business," Ignatz said, pushing away the inevitable conversation about Judith. "You said you had news?"

"Right," they said. "Those Gloucester remnants, they've headed north and make no sign of stopping. If you ask me, and you should, they're not going to turn around. With Lysithea escaping in the fray, I expect their plan is to target Derdriu. No doubt she leads them now, likely all her plan from the start."

Ignatz rubbed his eyes. "Shit, I was hoping they'd come back so we could take care of them."

"We have options," Yuri said. "One, we have three armies. Coalition, Alliance, and Holst's. One could be sent up to deal with the rebels."

"Two," Ignatz corrected. "I broke the code on Judith's notes. Holst is headed to Hrym and likely has committed to it. We wouldn't reach him in time."

"Hmm." Fair, Yuri conceded. "Well, we don't have decide this instant. We ought to ask around the Alliance people, see what they think."

Ignatz nodded, drained. "Ought to send someone to warn Claude, though."

"Agreed. I'll put Balthus on it," Yuri said. He paused, looking at Ignatz. "Friend, are you sure you're okay?"

"Leave it, Yuri," Ignatz said. "Just…not now. I can't do this now."

Disagreed, but Yuri didn't voice it. Best not let emotional wounds fester. Like any scrape, it needed disinfecting. "As you wish." They'd send someone later who knew Ignatz better. The pink one, probably. "Leave the Gloucester preparations to me. I'll come back with options."

Ignatz nodded, laying down on the cot. "Thank you," he murmured.

"Byleth!"

Strong arms caught her as soon as she entered the Leicester camp before she could say anything. She found herself laughing as Hilda hoisted her up and spun in a circle. "Hey, Hilda."

Hilda set her down, putting her hands on her hips and glowering. Barely hidden tears still lingered on her eyes. "Okay, now that that's out of the way, where the hell have you been?"

"Good to see you too, Hilda," Byleth said warmly, pulling her in for a more intimate hug. "I mean it, I've missed you." A few sniffles were masked in Byleth's shoulder and she pretended not to notice.

"Hey! I'm mad at you!" Hilda protested. "Don't manipulate my heart like this!"

Another laugh. Goddess, it felt good to do that. "Would you believe me if I said I was dead for four years?"

"Hilda?" Marianne's voice drifted above the din of the Coalition forces entering the Leicester camp. "What are you—Byleth!"

Another set of arms ensnared her that had—shockingly—a stronger grip than Hilda's.

"Marianne!" Byleth smiled. "Goddess, I should have figured you'd be nearby."

Marianne pulled away, wearing the widest smile Byleth had ever seen on her. "You're alive? Where have you been?" Her smile kept growing wider and wider.

"That's what I said!" Hilda complained. "Now you have to tell us."

Her smile dimmed a fraction. "I meant it, Hilda. For four years I was…dead? Asleep? Something. Rhea put me under a spell to save me from death. I was…" Memories of a demonic beast ripping a chunk of flesh and organ out of her stomach. "I was nearly dead. It was to save me."

"And the next year?" Hilda asked, though less forcefully. A note of worry passed in her tone at Byleth's words.

Byleth looked at the Coalition forces around them, glancing at Hapi and Constance not far away. "Some people needed me, I suppose."

Hilda made to say something but Marianne beat her to it. "I should have known," she said, still smiling. "Our professor always wanted to help out everyone she could." Her hand was on Byleth's arm, as if any moment she could disappear again.

Byleth shook her head. "Doesn't sound like me."

"Oh?" Marianne giggled. "I don't know about that."

"Okay!" Hilda said. "No more being mad—time for hugs!"

Byleth gasped for breath again as Hilda crashed into Byleth, hugs to make up for time lost. Marianne joined as well, albeit less forcefully. "Enough about me," she managed, "how have you two been?"

Marianne smiled, pulling back from the hug. "I suppose that it'll be news to you—we got married!"

"Congratulations!" Byleth said, smiling widely. "That's incredible."

"We wish you could have been there," Hilda said, finally pulling back. "You were the only person missing."

Her face fell. "I wish I could have been."

Marianne rested a hand on her shoulder. "What matters is that the Goddess gave you back to us, Byleth. You're here with us. You're home."

"Home," murmured Byleth, smiling. "Yes, yes I am."

"Have you found everyone here yet?" Hilda asked.

"Just Lorenz," she answered. "Briefly, I'll admit. I'll find him again later. Then Ignatz has been with me for a while now, same with Catherine. Is anyone else here?"

Hilda's eyes narrowed. "Ignatz knew…?" she muttered.

Marianne said, "Raph's here. The rest are all at Derdriu, though I imagine when news of you reaches them, they won't take long to come back here. After all, now we can finally have our class reunion like we promised at the Millennium Ball."

"You didn't?" Byleth asked, surprised.

"Course not," Hilda said. "You wouldn't have been there. Didn't feel right."

"Is Mercedes in Derdriu too?" Byleth asked, hopeful.

Marianne looked at Hilda, who did the same. "Here," Marianne said. "Byleth, come with me. I think there's something we need to talk about."

"I'll catch up with you," Hilda said quickly, ducking into the crowds as Marianne pulled Byleth away.

"Byleth, about Mercedes, you should know…" Marianne bit her lip. "It's Dorothea…"

"Hey," she said, hoarsely. "Kid, you okay?"

Ignatz nodded, distracted. Catherine didn't buy it, pulling him into a sideways hug on the cot. "Don't have to lie to me, Ignatz."

"I didn't even know her very well," Ignatz muttered. "She was always kind to me. Taught me a lot."

Catherine nodded. "Sounds like how she was to a lot of people. Hell, she even spared time for me on occasion."

"Hope whatever comes after this life is happy for her," Ignatz whispered.

Catherine held him tighter, motherly instinct taking over. Ignatz was the son she'd never have. In her dreams, she saw herself with Shamir, Ignatz, and Petra. A pathetically domestic dream and equally unrealistic. Petra was likely dead. Shamir hated her. And Ignatz deserved better than her.

"Ignatz," she said, rubbing his back, "I'm sure she was satisfied to have her last moments save Lorenz. If nothing else, I don't think she regretted her last actions. Whatever comes next after this life, she'll be happy she gave someone she cared about another chance."

"You think so?" he choked.

"Yeah," Catherine said. "Yeah, I do."

His response was lost as Hilda stormed into the tent. Her eyes flickered with surprise with at the tender moment before hardening.

"You fucking knew," she snarled.

Catherine stood, interposing herself protectively. All her instincts screamed to fight. "Hilda, back off."

"No!" she shouted. "Ignatz knew Byleth was alive and didn't tell us! You knew!"

"What?" Ignatz blinked, confused.

"Fuck you, Ig." Hilda pointed. "Don't we fucking matter?"

Catherine rested a hand on Hilda's shoulder—a subtle threat. "Back off," she repeated, with far less kindness.

"You'd be mad too if your sist—friend was back from the dead and Ig didn't tell you," she hissed.

Ignatz stood up, his grief pushed aside by confusion. "Hilda, I did send word. I sent a message the next day after I found her. I didn't wait at all."

Hilda growled. "Don't you lie to me."

"I never would," he said, honest.

Catherine's hand rested on her sword, ready to intervene if necessary.

Hilda's brow furrowed. "Then, someone knew?"

"I sent it to Claude. I didn't know who else was in Derdriu at the time. I thought he would tell you all," Ignatz explained.

"And he didn't," Hilda stated. Her eyes hardened. "Ignatz, I'm sorry for what I said. Clearly I need to have a talk with Claude." One of her hands clenched so hard into a fist Catherine could hear knuckles cracking.

"Do your research before coming in here with anger," Catherine spat, not letting the woman's words go unattended.

Hilda glared. "Forgive me for being a goddessdamn mess right now. I lost a friend today, got another back, and found out another lied to us."

"Don't make excuses," Catherine retorted, still angry.

Hilda frowned. "What are you, his mother? What happens between Ig and I is between us. Back off."

The comment cut deeper than she cared to admit, and she stood down, deflating. Hilda watched her before turning back to Ignatz. "Ig, I am sorry. I mean it. It's…there's a lot happening now."

He smiled, weakly. "Don't I know it. When I found her, I screamed at her. I was furious. Should have known everyone else would have reactions to her too."

"I'm sure I'll be legitimately mad at her in time," Hilda said softly. "But right now, I'm just happy to see her back." She turned to leave.

"Hilda," Ignatz said.

She stopped.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry you didn't get my note. If I had known where to find you, I would have sent one to you, to everyone."

She smiled. "Thank you, Ignatz. I needed to hear that." Hilda left.

Ignatz sank back to his cot, staring at where Hilda had stood. "Catherine, I can't lead this army."

Catherine sat next to him again, watching him carefully. "Where's that coming from?"

"Yuri wants me to, and I dare say Seteth will agree. I'm…I'm not cut out for this, any of this." He took off his glasses and shut his eyes. "I'm not a fighter. I'm a painter, Catherine. Ambassador, strategist, soldier, none of these are me. I don't even know what I am anymore."

"Whatever happens," Catherine implored, "I'll have your back. Byleth will too. You won't do anything you don't want to. I'll make sure of it."

He nodded, exhausted. "There's just so much. I can't take all of this. Judith, Byleth, Petra, Shamir, I just can't anymore…"

She hugged him tightly. "You don't owe anyone anything, Ignatz."

And she stayed by his side as he fell into a fitful sleep.

"Lorenz, right?" the person named Yuri had said to him. "Come with me. According to Seteth, one of our prisoners falls under your authority."

That had been fifteen minutes ago. Now, Lorenz stood in a tent with a bound and gagged Acheron tied to the tent's central support. His whimpers were muffled, but his eyes showed all the fear he had. Lorenz stared down at him, face impassive.

"Mmph!" Acheron tried to say, straining against his bonds.

"Yuri?" Lorenz said.

They poked their head into the tent. "Need something?"

Lorenz nodded. "Keep everyone away from here, please."

Yuri looked like they would protest, but nodded. "He's a valuable prisoner," Yuri said neutrally.

"He's my responsibility," Lorenz said.

Gritting his teeth, Yuri ducked back out of the tent. Lorenz turned back around, kneeling down in front of Acheron. He reached forward and pulled Acheron's gag away.

"Lord Lorenz!" Acheron immediately said. "So good to have you here, you simply must get me out of here and away from that harpy!"

Yuri, perhaps? Lorenz didn't care. "Why should I do that?"

Acheron's eyes widened. "I'm loyal to the Alliance, you must understand. I was just following Lady Gloucester's—er, Ordelia's orders! I thought she knew best for the Alliance and would lead it forward into the future like your father did."

"You don't know me very well, do you, Acheron?" Lorenz murmured.

"I beg your pardon, Lord Lorenz?" Acheron asked.

He shook his head. "I came for information. Help me out, and I'll see what I can do for you."

"Yes!" Acheron said. "Of course, how may I be of service?"

Lorenz drew a knife from the back of his belt. "Tell me about Judith, Acheron."

The man froze, eyes locked on the knife. "I…beg your pardon?"

"Judith, Acheron. Soldiers say you fought her." Lorenz tapped a finger on the tip of the blade.

"I—only for a moment!" he exclaimed, eyes still on the knife. "I didn't kill her, if that's what you're asking."

"I know," Lorenz said, looking at Acheron. "I want to know if you're the one who wounded her so badly she died later."

For a moment, Acheron said nothing. Then, "You can't blame her death on me. I didn't kill her."

"True," Lorenz said, nodding. "Wouldn't be very becoming of a noble, would it?"

"Right! Exactly," Acheron breathed. "Such blame would not be dignified."

"Thank you, Acheron, with giving me this information," Lorenz said, standing up.

He blinked, confused. "I did?"

"You've told me you're a pathetic swine without any moral backbone or conscience," Lorenz said. "And a shit memory. I'm not a noble anymore."

Acheron opened his mouth to protest.

"So don't put your ideals of nobility on me anymore."

Lorenz jammed the knife into the center of his neck, right where Judith had been stabbed. Acheron's voice ceased in a gurgle as viscera bled from his throat, choking him.

"Feel that?" he snarled. Lorenz twisted the knife. "That's what she felt."

Acheron weakly flailed his bound hands.

"You and yours took someone from me, from all of us," Lorenz hissed. "So let me pay this favor back."

If Acheron heard him, there was no indication. The man was already dead.

Lorenz pulled the knife out, wrinkling his nose at the waterfall of blood. He tossed the knife on the man's lap and wiped his hands on Acheron's robes.

When Lorenz walked out of the tent, Yuri stood waiting, arms crossed. They looked at him with a frown. "Have fun?" they grunted.

"There was an accident with the prisoner," Lorenz said. "It was unfortunate."

"I'm sure it was as contemptible as you say," Yuri spat.

"And deserved," Lorenz said, barely holding back anger. "Fortunate to all those he harmed."

Yuri scoffed. "I'm glad he was visited by judge, jury, and executioner at once. Perhaps I'm rusty on Alliance law, but it crosses my mind that this is unethical."

"Accidents happen," Lorenz dismissed, and walked away.

If Hilda and Marianne's hugs had been crushing earlier, then Raphael's made her into a diamond.

"Raph!" she gasped. "Can't. Breathe."

"Oh!" he said, as if unaware of his own strength. Raphael let go of her and she sucked in air. "Sorry."

"No, no, you're fine," she coughed, kneeling on the ground. "Just, gentler next time, please. Good to see you too, buddy."

He laughed sheepishly, sitting down on the ground next to her. She'd found him on the river's bank after nearly a full day of searching. Except most of the day had passed in a fugue with Marianne's words.

No, she commanded herself. Focus on anything else.

"Always knew you were still out there," Raphael said with a smile. "Figured if I was still kicking, so were you. You were always stronger than I was."

"I think your muscles tell a different story," Byleth said, dryly.

He laughed good naturedly. "And I don't think I was talking about physical strength."

Byleth shook her head. "Dunno about that."

Raphael chuckled. "Good to see you haven't changed, Byleth. Still as wrong as ever."

"Excuse me?" she said, confused.

"Everyone's accomplished a lot in five years," he said. "Done a lot, grown a lot. I think they all wanted to show you, but couldn't."

Byleth shrugged. "That's nice, but I don't think that has anything to do with me."

"And who believed in them?" he asked. "Who taught them to survive? Who taught them that acting as a group is better than being selfish? We went into the academy as a handful of people, we left as a family. You did that, Byleth. Not by yourself, but you helped everyone."

She looked away, not meeting his gaze. "Doesn't feel like I did anything special."

He quirked a grin. "Don't know if it matters what you think. It matters that's how they feel. They're overjoyed to have you back and show you how they've changed."

"And you feel like that?" she asked.

Raphael smiled. "Of course. We can't wait to tell you everything that's happened."

Byleth returned the smile, reaching over to hug him. "Tell me, Raphael. Tell me everything that's happened."

After washing the blood from his hands, Lorenz returned to his tent. Removing the sealed scroll Claude gave him before leaving Derdriu, he unfurled it.

A small note was the first thing he saw. He read it first.

Lorenz,

This is but a formality. What's included in here has been true for years. But I figure that making it legal is just a natural step, with everything that's happened. Thank you, for everything. I hope this is a sign of just what you mean to me.

Claude

Confused, he opened the main scroll. His eyes scanned what was written and widened. With a choking sob, he dropped the scroll and himself to the ground. He wept.

By the authority vested in me as Sovereign Duke of the Alliance, head of the Riegan family, and citizen of Leicester, I accept Lorenz Hellman into the Riegan family. From this day forward, Lord Lorenz von Riegan has all the power and privilege from the Riegan name. He is brother to Claude von Riegan in the eyes of the law, second in line for the seat of Sovereign Duke and leader of the Alliance.

This decree is witnessed by Judith von Daphnel and Holst Andrea Goneril and ratified in the eyes of the Roundtable.

Author Notes: I realize how few mlm pairs we have in this story and how that current one is off screen for the most part. I've got plans, don't worry. Though the amount of wlw pairs in this story is absolutely a factor of yours truly being a big ol' lesbian (which I won't apologize for).

Editing Notes:
7/26/2021: Minor grammar adjustments.
2/12/2022: Minor grammar adjustments.