They held the funeral for her the day the army was set to leave.

It was a small affair, as most expected a proper funeral to be held in Derdriu. But, with Claude joining the army, he decided they'd hold a ceremony for Judith themselves.

All the Deer who were there joined, along with Seteth and Flayn, at the bank of the river on the Alliance's side.

Some of them said a few words, recounting memories from the past year. They broke Byleth's heart when she realized the woman hadn't been close to any of them. None of the stories came from before the past year.

It seemed to have hit Claude as well, who stood by her side. He wept, silently.

"Do you want to say anything?" Byleth whispered to him after Lorenz stepped away from the front of the group.

"I don't know what I'd say," he murmured back.

"Would you tell us about her?" she asked.

He thought about it for a minute while Ignatz spoke. When he walked away, Claude stepped up and addressed the group.

"Judith von Daphnel was a second mother to me," he said, voice lacking its usual charisma. His tone was raw, wavering, and quiet. "She had no family of her own, but to me, she was just as much family as my parents are, or any of you. She died without me telling her that."

He blinked back tears and smiled. "I want to tell you all about her, so that you can know her like I did."

Caspar had moved his office to a building that overlooked the Agarthan barracks. They'd been quiet since he'd confronted Myson and it bothered him.

He couldn't spend as much time observing as he'd like though. The Alliance had broken through Myrddin and Ordelia, something everyone except the most naïve recognized as inevitable. Now they'd take care of Varley, Aegir, and Bergliez. His heart hurt at the thought of his home, but he brushed it aside. All that was there anymore was memories of early days spent with Linhardt. It was the past for him, not the future.

After the Alliance and this Seiros Coalition dealt with those three cities, they'd make their way to Merceus. He never claimed to be an esteemed tactician, but he guessed they'd make it here. How they planned to break through the fort was a mystery.

His orders had instructed him to shore up defenses. Edelgard must have been running scared with Myrddin, Ordelia, and Galatea falling in such a short period of time. While it didn't spell their defeat—far from it—losing three cities in a fell swoop would have any commander disturbed. Not him, though, for he had more important things to worry about.

Lord Arundel was making his way to try and lure the Alliance into engaging him west of Varley. For what strategic reason, Caspar wasn't told. It seemed foolish to him. But that didn't worry him.

No, Victor von Bergliez was returning to take command of Merceus away from him.

Someone knocked on his door.

"Enter," he said, looking away from the window.

Bernadetta stepped in almost immediately. "She's awake."

Caspar's eyes widened and he stood up. "Did she just wake?"

Bernadetta nodded.

Together they bolted from the room.

"So you're staying with us?" Byleth asked.

He nodded, scratching Tishtar's chin. She'd made a home in the grass on the edge of the warcamp as it was taken down for travel. She was no common wyvern that was relegated to a stable like a Fódlan trained beast—she was a companion who could do as she wished. If he needed her, he could call for her, and she'd return. That was the nature of their bond. No servitude, just trust.

"I know I should return," he said, feeling Tishtar's purr in his fingers. She was really just a big cat. With wings. "But I trust the people I left there. Leonie is in charge and I trust her with my life and the country."

Byleth nodded and crossed her arms. "I don't mean to doubt your faith in her. I just don't understand why you're staying. Not that I'm complaining!" she added hurriedly. "Sorry, I'm not good at all this."

He winced. "Can I be honest?"

"Always."

"I'm afraid that if I leave your side again, you'll disappear again," he admitted.

Byleth's features softened. "Claude, I made you a promise. I will stand by your side wherever you go. If you return to Derdriu, I'll go too."

Claude was glad he faced away from her. It was rare he blushed, after all. "You're captain of the Knights, Byleth. You can't just leave." Now he turned to look at her.

Her face warred with itself. "I know, I just—I want to keep my promises. And put an end to this war."

"Then it's a good thing I'm staying," he said. "Now that most political maneuvering is done for getting this war going, I should be here. Nader won't take much longer to cross the mountains. That's something I absolutely need to be here for."

"Good," she said. "So long as you're content with your decision."

He was. The reasons he stated were the logical side of his motivations, but there was of course the issue of how he was in love with her. Hopelessly, unrefutably, passionately in love with her. Time may have weathered him, but his feelings were just as they'd been.

Should he tell her? Marianne had told him she knew about Mercedes, how much it had hurt her. Surely now was the wrong time. But ought he ask about Mercedes, if only to show Byleth he cared and would listen?

He didn't know. So instead he asked a different question.

"I did want to ask you something," he said. "I'm not sure if you even know the answer."

She cocked her head to the side.

"Do you know anything about Rhea's whereabouts?"

Byleth hummed softly, walking forward to Tishtar to scratch her behind her antlers. "I…might have an inclination."

Claude waited patiently while Byleth formulated her thoughts. "When the Wolves picked me up, Yuri found me in a river. I hadn't been where I had fallen asleep. For all that they're clever, they'd never put that one together."

Byleth sighed. "A few months after recovering, I snuck off to go back to where I had last been conscious. Where Rhea had put me into a healing sleep," she added for Claude's benefit. "When I got there…"

He said nothing, waiting. Tishtar noticed her distress and brushed her snout against her cheek.

"I found a skeleton," Byleth finally said. "It was wearing her robes. Decayed, but hers."

"She's dead?" he whispered.

"I didn't tell anyone," she said just as quietly. "I thought it would hurt people more than help, with how the world was. Hope helps, right?" It sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

"Do you think she did something to herself to heal you?" he couldn't help but ask.

She nodded. "The Archbishop, a woman whom I fought with regularly and didn't like, gave her life to save me." Byleth turned to him. "Why?"

Why indeed. He'd need to think on it, come up with a theory. It didn't change much, not with Seteth being Archbishop. But those kinds of reassurances weren't what Byleth needed in this moment.

"We can't know her reasons," he said, firing blind. "She was an enigma. Seteth might know, but maybe it doesn't matter. She must have cared about you in her own way, to do that. It's poor consolation, but I think there was a lot to her we didn't know."

Byleth nodded. "I shouldn't have been so hard on her."

That he didn't agree with. "She had her opinions, you had yours. You defended and fought for yours. I don't think there's anything wrong with that."

She hummed and said nothing. Then, after a few moments, "Thanks, Claude. That gave me some new perspective. Can we talk about something else?"

He smiled. "Of course. You should try scratching her under the wings, she loves it there…"

After their brief meeting earlier, Leonie tracked down the newest addition to their team. He'd snuck off to the training yard, further cementing her doubts.

Balthus von Albrecht was an idiot, if well intentioned.

He reminded her of Raphael to an extent, if her friend had a gambling problem. And if he wasn't nearly as observant. Maybe he wasn't like Raphael—just as big as him.

If she were being perfectly honest, Leonie didn't know why he was here—only that someone named Yuri had sent him to warn them of news they already knew. Well, they hadn't known Lysithea helmed the army, but everything else had been known.

She lingered back, watching him train. Credit where it was due, he could move through stances and punches far quicker than Raph could. He'd be an asset, she supposed.

But all of that, none of that mattered in the face of the meeting they had tomorrow with Trevor von Albrecht. His brother had conveniently walked right into her lap and she'd be damned if that didn't work to her advantage.

Maybe that was why this Yuri had sent him. Maybe it was more for him than her.

That did nothing to assuage her doubts. The man wasn't a diplomat, he wasn't a talker. He was a fighter, as was she. Neither of them would ever convince anyone of anything without aid of steel.

"Hey, Leonie!" Balthus waved at her, finally noticing her lingering.

Trevor apparently had done as Leander demanded under guise that Leander held Balthus captive. Surely seeing his brother would be a relief, but how would he react to knowing Balthus had never been kidnapped—that he'd never tried to reconnect with his brother? Sure, it might steer him away from Lysithea, but if he didn't side with them they were still fucked.

Leonie walked up to Balthus, through the busy training yard. Across the way, Felix was drilling several of the talented refugees and showing them just how outclassed they were. He couldn't do much for them with such little time, but he could knock them down a few pegs. Keep them from getting cocky.

"You're pretty fast," she complimented.

He grinned. "When you're outrunning debt collectors, you gotta be quick on your feet. Running's a better option than standing your ground."

Leonie quirked an eyebrow and glanced at his bare chest. "Not the physique I'd expect from a runner." It was nice to look at, she'd admit.

That got a laugh out of him. "And sometimes you gotta stand your ground. I prefer fight and flight, take away the choice of it."

"Fair enough, I suppose." She met his eyes again. "I'm here on business, though. Your brother, I want to know more about your relationship. You were cagey this morning. If we're going to meet with him and convince him to come to our side, I need to know more."

Balthus winced. "Not exactly memories I like revisiting."

Her eyes narrowed. "Tough. I need to know if I'm going to put my faith in your relationship as our ace in the hole."

He ran a hand through his sweaty mane of hair and grunted. "Things we said to each other before parting, they're not the kinds of things you can really take back. I don't mean to dash your plan, but it's not a likely scenario. So sorry, it's not something I want to talk about."

"You'll need to with him," she stated, losing patience.

"Eh, maybe?" he said, laughing nervously. "I'll avoid it if I can."

Leonie scowled. "This isn't about you. This is about the entire continent, about the fate of Derdriu and the Alliance. If we lose this battle, we might very well lose this war."

He crossed his arms, defensive and looking for an out. "Spar with me, hand-to-hand. Beat me, I'll tell you. If you lose, drop it."

"Don't be absurd," she spat. "I'm trying to save our asses, and you want to have a petty contest?"

He stayed stoic. "Those are my conditions."

The nerve. She growled, "You're a fool. Fine." She unbuttoned her shirt, revealing the tight wrappings around her chest and the still red and wicked scar from Ladislava's axe. Since Petra's attack, Leonie didn't let herself go anywhere unprepared anymore. She wrapped her chest like she was going to battle every morning.

It succeeded in putting him off, be it the scar or her appearance. Balthus cleared away some of the equipment while she stretched, glancing at her as she did so. A few soldiers training nearby looked on with interest.

Hand-to-hand? What was she doing? Leonie could barely keep the muscles maintained for her swordplay. She hadn't drilled in close combat in some time. Seemed like she didn't have a choice. This man needed a lesson.

Taking a final glance at her scar, he said, "Don't think I'll go easy on you."

Leonie rolled her eyes as he stood opposite her, fifteen feet away. He took a low stance while Leonie bent her legs slightly.

Her hands trembled. She could feel her memories coming to the surface. Smashing her hands into firm fists, Leonie let him make the first move.

His hair, long like Ladislava's, she could see an axe in his hands.

Balthus advanced, closing the distance slowly. He was waiting for her to make a move, as if he could egg her into a mistake.

Raphael had always told her not to let someone bigger trick her into doing that. It's what she had done with Ladislava.

She could feel the steel in her stomach again. Cold and sapping, like she'd never be warm again, her very veins tundra.

Losing patience, Balthus swung a fist out for her jaw. Leonie threw an arm up and knocked it off track. With the other hand, she smashed a fist into her face. Lurching forward, she grabbed her shoulder under the armpit and swept a leg out into hers. It wasn't clean, but it did knock her off kilter. Before she could settle back into a steady stance, Leonie pushed with all her might against her.

The force, along with her unsteadiness, toppled her like a tower. She crashed onto her back, surprise taking her entire expression. Leonie pressed a knee to her stomach and an elbow to Ladislava's neck. It took less than two seconds for the fight to conclude.

"You lose," she hissed, vision already fading into the past along with the memories. Leonie could feel her head going light as she saw Balthus—not Ladislava—beneath her.

Balthus didn't argue. He didn't rail against the defeat or make any kind of outburst. Instead, his eyes widened, "Are you okay?"

Leonie screwed her eyes shut. Derdriu. Training yard. Balthus. Present. "I'm fine." She got off him and sat down on the ground.

Sitting up, Balthus watched her. She could feel his eyes on her. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry. You just remind me of my friend Byleth who gets like this sometimes."

Had her body not been undergoing such stress, she might have rejoiced at what that sentence confirmed about her former teacher. But she didn't, instead saying, "I won. Pay up."

"I didn't know," he apologized again. "If I had known fighting did this—"

"Don't treat me like a breakable object," Leonie snapped.

"What's going on?" she heard Felix ask.

Finally opening her eyes, Leonie felt the tremors begin to subside. "Don't worry about it, Felix."

He clearly worried about it, just in his own way. He glanced at Balthus, then back at her, then at the soldiers who had been watching (they immediately slunk away under his gaze). He rounded on Balthus, "What happened?"

"Felix, it's fine," she protested, regaining some of her strength.

"I challenged her to a spar," Balthus explained.

"You're an—"

"Felix." Leonie locked eyes with him. "Let it go."

Felix scowled and retreated, taking a glance back at Balthus as he left. He took up a spot on the training yard far closer than he'd been before.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Balthus asked.

Goddess, she missed Ferdinand. He was far better at this sort of thing. "You can tell me what happened between your brother and you."

He nodded, looking defeated. "Fair is fair." And he told his story.

Hilda slammed her shoulder into the stone and, with Hapi's help, finally got it to roll to the side. With its movement, the bridge was fully clear. Nothing would impede the army moving across it.

"Thanks, Belle. I'm not cut out for this." Hapi sagged to the ground. She took her canteen and drank greedily.

Hilda snorted. "Then why'd you help out?"

Hapi grinned wearily and flexed her arms. "Coco likes my muscles. Gotta keep my lady happy, right?"

That, Hilda could understand. She laughed and sat down next to her. "Coco is Constance, right?"

"Yup!"

"Seems like I never see her around you?" Hilda observed, curious.

Hapi shrugged. "We're private. The time we spend together is our own. That's what Coco likes."

Hilda laughed. "And here I thought you were sleeping with Yuri, not her."

"Eh, tried it. We didn't click," Hapi responded. "But Coco? Damn does she make me happy. Way better fit."

"When you find that right person, you can feel it." Hilda smiled.

"That Marigold, for you?" Hapi asked. "Marianne," she followed up upon noticing the confusion.

"You bet!" Hilda's smiled widened further. "Gosh, she is just the best I could ever ask for."

The levity was infectious, Hapi began to grin. "And here I thought you were with Claudester," she teased, parroting Hilda's words.

"What? Ew!" Hilda gasped. "I mean, he's not bad to look at? But ew, that's like me being with Holst."

Hapi howled with laughter. "Damn! No hesitation."

She flushed. "Claude's a good person! He's got plenty of good traits. And a nice face. But he sure as hell isn't Marianne. And I'm still mad at him." Not as much now that time had passed. She should talk to him about that and stop avoiding it in their conversations. "Plus he's head over heels for someone else."

"Oh?" Hapi leaned forward in interest. "Spill, Belle. Everyone here is already hitched or might as well be. I'm usually the source of speculation, I wanna turn the tables."

"He's been in love with Byleth for years." Hilda shrugged. As far as she knew, everyone knew it. Well, not everyone. Byleth didn't know.

Hapi's eyes widened. "You serious?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I've been trying to set Queen up forever!" Hapi gushed, uncharacteristic enthusiasm oozing. "She's always so depressed, I thought getting her with someone would help." She paused. "Wait, does she even like men?"

Hilda began to answer and paused. Did she? "Shit, I don't actually know. I've only seen her with Mercedes."

"And I've only heard her talk about Mercedes," Hapi said. "Maybe that's why he hasn't made a move?"

"No, he hasn't made a move because he's stupid. Well, he respects her feelings for Mercedes, which is important. But he's also stupid." Hilda bit her lip. What if Hapi was right?

Hapi leaned further forward with a feral grin. "Sounds like we need to investigate."

Hilda smirked back. "Agreed."

"Hello, brother," Claude said as he hugged Lorenz tightly.

The hug was returned with equal strength on the bridge. They pulled apart and Lorenz blushed. "I actually haven't told anyone yet."

Claude chuckled. "It's your news to share. But, if you ask me, I think it's something we've all known for a long time."

"Claude—thank you," Lorenz said. "I'm not quite sure how to pay you back."

"Nope!" Claude said. "No payback, that's not something I expect or want out of family. This isn't a commercial exchange. It's family."

Lorenz offered a wry smile in return. "Guess I'll need to get used to that part of being a Riegan."

"That's the spirit!" Claude grinned. Growing serious, he said, "I heard what you did to Acheron."

He wilted. "Claude—"

The Duke held up a hand to stop him. "He was your prisoner. What you did with him was your business. With his involvement with Judith's death, I can't say I'd do differently."

"I shouldn't have killed him," Lorenz said. He felt like a child being reprimanded by a parent.

Claude shrugged. "We don't know what affect that might have had. Maybe he'd have tried to escape and killed some of our soldiers. We can't know what could have been, so there's no point trying. All we can do is move forward." He paused. "I'm not angry about Acheron. Good riddance. I'm just concerned about you, Lorenz."

He stayed silent, waiting for Claude to go on.

"I saw the state of the body," Claude murmured. "It was…brutal."

Lorenz felt shame.

"I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay," Claude said. "I heard you took Judith's death hard."

His shame doubled. Here he was, being consoled by the man who had seen Judith as a second mother. How dare he hurt so much more visibly. Claude had to be hurting so much worse.

"Pardon," he mumbled after a moment. "Yes, losing her was difficult. When I went to see Acheron I had just…" Lorenz sighed. "I'll get it for you, but I found Judith's journal."

"Judith had a journal?" Claude said, surprised. His eyes narrowed. "You read it?"

"I wanted to make sure she didn't have any last wishes written in there," Lorenz said, closing his eyes. "She…well, you need to see for yourself. There's something in there you should know, something that made me furious at the Empire for killing her."

"Fair enough," Claude nodded. "You didn't show it to anyone else?"

"Correct," Lorenz said. "I only read the last few pages to see if she had any funeral requests. I didn't mean to pry."

Claude chuckled halfheartedly. "I might have done the same in your place. My mother should decide what to do with it. If there was anyone Judith trusted, it was her."

A pang of pain hit his heart. "Claude, you ought to take a look at those last few pages before showing her. They concern your mother."

He frowned. "How so?"

Lorenz felt sick for having stumbled on such private feelings, emotions Judith closed up in that book to never see the light of day. "Just do it before making that decision." Goddess, let Judith forgive him, wherever she was.

Claude nodded slowly. "Very well. Am I going to find something I don't like in there?"

"No," Lorenz said. "Just something intensely private that I never should have seen."

"Then take me to it. I've never done well with curiosity unchecked."

She didn't look at him when he sat down next to her bed, Bernadetta lingering behind him.

Petra Macneary had found her way to Merceus, showing up half bloody outside their gates. Thank the Goddess that Bernadetta had been nearby before Myson could find out.

They'd hidden her away in the fort until she recovered. Caspar had some suspicions about Petra he wanted to clear up before deciding whether to report to the Emperor.

"Been a while," was all he could think to say as he looked at her.

"I suppose," she mumbled, still not making eye contact.

"I know I'm not exactly privy to whatever plans Hubert cooks up," Caspar said, "but I did hear about some scuffles happening in Alliance territory. Count Gloucester dead and an attempt on the Duke, if you believe the rumors on the last one."

"People talk," she shrugged.

Caspar sighed. "Look, I don't care about any of it. This whole war isn't my business, I just do my part here to keep my people safe. You showed up on my doorstep, more or less. Figured you came here for a reason."

Her body went stiff and she said nothing.

Caspar glanced at Bernadetta and she shrugged. "Well, I guess if you ever want to chat, I can stop by. You're welcome to stay here as long as you like, though I can't guarantee people won't find out you're here. There's a lot of people at Merceus and only so many I can trust to watch over you."

That drew a response. She blinked a few times. "You're not telling Edelgard I'm here?"

"Should I?" he asked.

"No," Petra replied too quickly.

He was no patriot, not any more. "I don't care what your business from the Emperor is. If you want me to keep a lid on it, I will. You want a place to lie low, sure. But I can't guarantee anything will stay secret if that's your intention."

"Caspar," she said, "thank you."

"Don't be rude, Bernadetta's here too," Caspar said with the briefest of teasing smiles. She mumbled thanks to Bernadetta, embarrassed. The woman smiled at it.

He grew serious again. "I know we didn't talk much in the academy, but you never seemed to like the Empire much. Don't know why you're on our side or if you even want to be." He watched for a reaction to that, and got none. "Doesn't matter to me. Stay as long as you like."

Caspar stood up to leave as she said, "Why are you helping them?"

He paused before replying with his stock answer. "Church killed Linhardt. I'm in it for revenge."

"Do you really believe that?" Petra asked, softly.

If he didn't, what was it all for? What were the past five years for if not for revenge?

Goddess, was he tired.

"Doesn't seem to matter, the way I see it," he said, avoiding an answer. "Can't do much here to learn anything. I'm as much confined here as I am stationed."

"I see," Petra said, backing down. "Thank you again, both of you."

"If you wish to talk," Bernadetta said, "then come find us. We're not hard to find."

Petra nodded before withdrawing into herself again.

"You've gotten better."

"Hmm?" Ignatz glanced up from the canvas. "Oh, hello, Marianne." She was dressed to ride with a wickedly curved blade at her side—Blutgang.

The woman sat down next to him on the riverbank as soldiers flooded across the great bridge into the Empire, beginning the load road forward. She glanced at the half-finished piece. "The bridge?" she guessed.

"Yeah," he said with a nod. "Don't have any blue for the river, though. Don't know what to do about that."

"I think the choice is out of your hands. General Lorenz just sent me to come find you. We're heading out." Her lips quirked into a mischievous smile that was more Hilda than her. "General, can you believe it? I can't help but remember how high and mighty he was at the start of the academy."

Ignatz laughed. "He's come a long way. I'm actually happy Claude isn't taking over. This should be good for Lorenz."

"I agree," Marianne said. "Everyone's changed so much…but they feel more like themselves than when I first met them."

Ignatz stood up and held out a hand for Marianne to take. "That right? I suppose I haven't paid too close attention to that."

"You have been in Brigid most of the time," Marianne mused. "I heard Catherine say you might be going back?"

"I should," he said. "They could use all the help they can get."

"But?" she probed.

"But leaving everyone here would hurt," he murmured. "I've done that a lot of times now. Doesn't get easier to leave family behind."

She nodded, understanding. "Do what your heart tells you, Ignatz."

That drew a sorrowful grin from him. "You make it sound so easy."

Marianne mirrored him. "If it were easy, it wouldn't mean anything."

"Fair enough." He gestured to where she'd come from. "Shall we?"

"Wait," she said, stopping him. "Forgive me, I'm no good at steering a conversation where I want it. Why didn't you tell Byleth about Mercedes?"

Ignatz froze. "You'll think less of me if I tell you."

She shook her head. "That's my prerogative."

"I was angry at her," he said simply. "For coming back but not finding us. At first, I held my tongue because I didn't know what to say. Then…" He closed his eyes. "Then I was just petty."

Arms wrapped around him in a comforting hug. "It's okay to be angry, Ignatz."

"Angry, yes," he said, shrugging her arms off. "But not to actively harm family."

"You're ashamed," she stated, peering into his soul.

"Among other things," he admitted, not looking at her.

"Ignatz," she said, actively stepping into his sight. "She's family, right? She'll forgive you if you apologize."

"She deserves better than me as family," he snarled, more to himself than her.

Her expression turned from kindness to sympathy. "Careful with that way of thinking. It's dangerous." Shaking her head, she continued. "I won't say anything to her. I think you should talk to her, but it's up to you." Marianne squeezed his shoulder. "She cares about you. About all of us. She doesn't show it as well as some of us, but she does."

"I know," he said.

She smiled. "See? You already know what I'm saying is true. Now, let's not keep Lorenz waiting any longer."

They began their road to Varley under dark clouds.

As spring came to Fódlan, so did the rainy season in the south. While Leicester was spared the downpours and Faerghus existed in its perpetual cold, Adrestia would see many storms.

The road would be slow. It would be long.

Elsewhere in the world, Holst's army marched through the rain to Hrym. With both armies setting out of Leicester, the war would begin in earnest.

The coming months would determine the fate of Fódlan. Most would say the choices of consequence would happen at the front of the war, or perhaps to the north where the Kingdom fought against their occupiers.

Most would be wrong. The eyes of history might not dwell on it, but it was in the hands of a commoner woman that held the fate of an entire war in her hands, tucked away in Derdriu. A war that would dictate future generations for thousands of years to come would come down to a single decision.

A decision that would dictate if her family lived or died.

Author Notes: The next bit of this fic will take a more intense look at the plotline in Derdriu. We're not neglecting the rest of the plot, but a lot of people need to travel where they're going, which is boring. You don't want to read conversations between people on horses for the next several chapters. So this makes for the perfect time to get into Leonie's moment(s) in the sun.

Editing Notes:
7/27/2021: Minor grammar adjustments. Fixed a continuity error.
2/12/2022: Removed needless author notes.