Hanneman,

I appreciate your concern, but I am surprisingly doing fine. The effects have actually slowed somewhat—I've had more energy as of late. The only variable I changed in the tonic was the one you suggested, so I suspect that was the reason. I'm in your debt again.

Per your other inquiry, no, I still have refrained from using Dark per your request. I'm not sure how much longer I'll have that luxury in war, but for now, I will continue. Hopefully soon I will return and we can test your hypothesis in person instead of afar.

So in all, yes, I am doing well. Leading an army isn't something I'm used to; you were right to call me a scholar when supporting me against Edelgard's orders. I can't recall if I ever thanked you for that—in which case allow me to thank you now. She may have still sent me out here, but your concern has always meant much to me. I do hope Hubert or Edelgard did not enact any punishment on you for that. If they did, please tell me, I'll ensure it doesn't happen again.

I did manage to witness your ballista at Myrddin. You outdid yourself, Hanneman. I'm including a report on my observations—brief they might be—with this letter.

How have you been? I miss our weekly chats over tea, they're one of the few comforts I've had these past few years. Make sure to remember to eat—I'll be very upset if I return to an emaciated research partner.

Your friend,

Lysithea

"You told him where Marianne was?" Leonie gasped.

Felix frowned as he toweled himself off from his warm up kata. "Should I not have?" he said, defensive.

Leonie looked around the Riegan training yard for prying ears or eyes. Thankfully, Felix rose before the sun for his morning workout and few others had his dedication. The area was quiet, none close enough to hear. "I'm probably not supposed to tell you anything."

"Then don't."

She bit her lip. "Unfortunately, I might not have that luxury. If he comes back, you need to know." Sorry, Marianne. "Margrave Edmund has experimented on Marianne in the past. They came to an agreement before the army left that he would not seek her out any more."

Felix's eyes widened. "Experimented?"

"I don't know the specifics," Leonie said, still watching for any eavesdroppers. "But suffice to say, he has not been kind to her."

Felix was quiet, thinking. Then, "And I led him right to her."

Before she could respond, Felix took his wooden training sword and snapped it over his leg. "Felix!" Leonie jumped to her feet from where she sat, alarmed.

"It's nothing," Felix said, wincing in pain. "Just some anger." He massaged his leg.

"No," Leonie snapped. "You tell me what's wrong." She might not be able to keep herself together all the time, but damn if she let the people under her command falter.

Felix hissed, more in pain than at her. "I can sympathize."

Her eyes widened. "Wait, really?"

"Not in the same way. But I have my fair share of…fatherly issues," Felix grunted.

And she remembered the story he told her—which she hadn't spoken of to anyone else—of him killing Rodrigue. She closed her mouth, not speaking.

"Will you let me go hunt him down?" Felix asked. "To make up for it?"

Oh, there was a fierce and protective part of her that wanted to unleash his fury at the man who made sweet Marianne cry. But life was a fickle bitch, and there was war on their doorsteps.

"I can't spare you," she said, doing nothing to hide the open regret in her voice. "I'll send my fastest messenger. Hopefully they can arrive first, he doesn't have that much of a head start."

"You don't sound optimistic," he observed.

"I'm hopeful," she said. "Go see Balthus about that leg. I need you at your best."

Felix scowled. "I'll be fine."

"Don't be stubborn. Go after you train, or go instead. I don't care, just make sure it gets done." She hoped her gaze brooked no argument.

It seemed to. Chastened, Felix nodded. "Fine."

Satisfied, she returned to where she sat. "Now, what did you call me out here for?"

"Hm? Oh, I read through your battle plan last night," Felix said, about to begin another kata before realizing he held a broken sword. Shaking his head, he tossed it to the side and focused solely on her. "I'm not exactly a strategist, but you have got to be kidding me."

"Excuse me?" she asked, bewildered. "Is this about engaging them outside the city?"

"What? No," Felix said. He glowered at her. "Putting yourself in the front line? You have got to be delusional."

"I can fight," she protested.

"The fuck you can," Felix snarled. "You can't go three seconds in a fight before collapsing or hallucinating."

"I'm supposed to lead these people into battle," she argued. "How can I ask them to fight what might be a hopeless battle when I don't ride out with them?"

Felix shook his head in disbelief. "I always took you as someone smart at the academy, but clearly I misjudged you. You honestly think that these people won't put their lives on the line for you? I know Shamir talked to you about this, but seriously, figure it out."

She made to interrupt but Felix interrupted. "No, you listen, Leonie. Do you want to die or something? Get this fantasy of being Jeralt out of your head. The rest might not see it, but I can tell you want to be him and this is your way to do that. I will lead the vanguard, you will be at the back. You're a goddessdamn general, not the Blade Breaker."

Leonie couldn't make eye contact. Finally, she said, "I…I just want to help."

Felix's expression softened. "I know. We know. Your people know. There's such a thing as too much. You getting killed helps no one. Let the rest of us do our part." He growled. "Goddess, you're just like him."

"Him?"

"Sylvain," Felix spat. "Moron wanted to ride out like a hero in the first battles, to lead the loyalists on the battlefield. Putting the leader in the front line is tantamount to a war's end. You think if you fall, there's anyone else to lead us? Shamir or me? As if. Balthus? No one even knows who he is. Ferdinand's in bed until further notice, so that leaves us you. Without you, we're fucked."

It was probably one of the nicest things Felix had ever said to her, funnily enough. Leonie sighed. "I take it you talked to Shamir about this too?"

She swore there was a grin on his face, but when she looked again it was gone. "What gave it away?"

"Sounds like her words more than yours."

"Some of them are. But don't misunderstand, the sentiment is shared between us." Felix took a deep breath. "She'll be hunting you down today too, fair warning."

"Great," she deadpanned.

"I like her," Felix said, approving. "Both of us understand what it's like to look after idiots."

Leonie snorted. "I'll bet Catherine and Sylvain would love to hear that."

"They can argue all they want, they'll be alive to do it," Felix said, serious.

She looked away. "Fine, I'll do as you say."

"Good. And Leonie?"

"Hm?"

"Jeralt got killed despite all you think of him. Don't be him, be better."

"I…thank you."

"Leonie!" Ferdinand said cheerily as she walked into his small room. "I was hoping you'd visit soon." He immediately handed her a packet of papers.

"What's this?" she asked, glancing at it.

"I left some notes about troop positions on your battle plans," Ferdinand explained eagerly. "But they're minor. You've got a solid strategy here."

"Thank you," Leonie said, nodding. "I have an additional battalion of Edmund knights as well. I thought you might be better suited to help me with cavalry positioning."

"Edmund?" he mused. "Sure, I can help. I actually had a request for you, though."

"Go on," Leonie said, taking the seat that Shamir usually occupied when looking in on Ferdinand.

"I know I won't be fighting," he said, "but I was hoping you'd give me your permission to accompany you to the battle. Not to fight, but to help where I can." Ferdinand gestured to his surroundings. "I despise being waylaid like this."

"I mean, you're a noble, Ferdie," Leonie chuckled. "You can do as you please." First Felix asking her permission, now Ferdinand? What was the world coming to?

Her vigorously shook his head. "Claude left you in charge, Leonie. You're my commanding officer. I will defer to you."

"You're still a noble."

"A traitorous noble from his homeland? No, I think not. I am just me."

Leonie slouched in her chair. "Why do you all put so much faith in me? Not just you, but Shamir and Felix too. You all think I'm something special, someone accomplished."

"Instead of doubting us, have you considered that we're right?" Ferdinand asked, not unkindly.

"I…" Leonie searched for the words she wanted.

It all felt surreal, the girl from Sauin with a nation depending on her. How did Claude handle this kind of pressure, with everything riding on him? Here she was, buckling under it in mere weeks.

Ferdinand chuckled. "Trust me, I speak from experience. I used to spout bluster about accomplishments and what I had done. But did anyone else repeat it, much less believe it? I sincerely doubt it. But you? I think you're as far away from what I was as is possible."

Leonie offered a rueful smile. "I'm sure you weren't that bad."

He shook his head. "No, I was quite different. I had fallen for Hubert, if that's any indication."

"Are you kidding me?" she immediately said. Then, realizing how that sounded, she apologized. "Sorry."

He only laughed. "No, no, you're right to think that. I suppose he was my type and I just filled in all the gaps and fell in love with whatever I saw, not whatever he actually is." Ferdinand's face grew more somber. "I am ashamed it took me learning that he was responsible for killing Linhardt to see it, though."

"He killed Linhardt?" Leonie gasped.

"Well, not him specifically. Or maybe it was him. It's been a long time," he said, wistful. "But make no mistake, Edelgard's group was responsible for it." In an even smaller voice. "It was why I decided to join you all."

"I hadn't known the why of it," Leonie admitted. "You just fought with us at Garreg Mach, which made you brother in my eyes."

He smiled. "Thank you, Leonie. That means more than you know."

"Speaking of romantic interests," Leonie began, her lips curling with a rare teasing lilt.

"Oh?"

"I'm surprised you aren't trying to get up and ride to Lorenz' side," she ribbed.

He blushed scarlet. "Leonie!" Ferdinand sputtered. "I haven't the slightest what you're talking about."

Leonie smiled, all teeth and no melancholy. It wasn't like she hadn't noticed him making eyes at Lorenz. Frankly, everyone but the men themselves had noticed his straying eyes.

Which meant no one paid attention to her glances at Lorenz when she wasn't hiding them as well. Perhaps it was better that way. He and Ferdinand deserved each other.

"Sure you don't," she laughed, burying the feelings she'd held since the academy. "You go get him after this, you hear me? That's my order to you."

Ferdinand managed to get himself under control enough to respond, "That means no heroics in the battle, right? You need to be around to enforce that order."

Leonie laughed anew, harder. Goddess, did she hope so. "Of course, Ferdie. Got too much to do."

"Shit," hissed Felix as Balthus pressed a hand firmly onto the purple bruise. "You need to press on it?"

Balthus nodded. "You're used to talented people. Me, I barely know much White. I gotta inspect a wound before I focus the magic. It's a careful science."

"And here I thought magic was outside of science," Felix grumbled, gasping again.

Balthus rolled his eyes. "There's science to everything, is what Constance says. Hell if I get any of it, but she's smarter than I am."

"Just get on with it."

He had woken Balthus up from the best of pre-battle naps in his room, so the forlorn Albrecht didn't feel too bad about the pain Felix was in. "Hold still," he said, pulling up a chair next to Felix's. "I mean it, don't move."

"Sure thing," he deadpanned.

"You're a bundle of cheer, ain'tcha?" Balthus muttered, holding a hand flat against the bruise.

"Bite me," he growled, wincing as Balthus put pressure on it.

"Hey, I'm the one healing you," Balthus shot back. "You could at least be a bit polite."

Felix stared at him for a moment before he ground out, "Sorry." The word leaving his mouth looked like it did him physical pain.

It was probably the best he'd get. "Why are you even here anyway?" Balthus asked. "Like, you don't really seem to be a team player."

A dark look was all he received. Balthus tried again. "You know Leonie from before or something?"

"We went to the academy together," Felix said.

Balthus let a pulse of White magic out of his hand. Whereas most channeled their faith in the Goddess or any deity, he just thought of Yuri, his leader. Commander. Friend, that was more apt.

"That why you're here? For her?" Balthus asked.

"She's…a friend." Felix seemed to dwell on that word, but settled on it, satisfied, nonetheless. "A friend." Firmer.

"She's got interesting friends," Balthus said, lighthearted. The bruise had reduced substantially below his hand.

Felix rolled his eyes. "You're one to talk. You're the one who's friends with that Rowe kid. I thought they were dead, what happened to—"

"Yuri," Balthus stressed. "Their name is Yuri."

"Yuri," Felix said, catching on. "Pardon. What happened to them?"

"Dunno. They don't like to talk about it." Balthus finished his healing. "Different past, different person, is what he says when you ask. Good enough for me."

"Fair," Felix said, nodding. "Hope they're happier than with the Rowes. Kid always looked miserable."

Balthus wanted to ask more, but knew that wasn't his to know. He respected Yuri too much for that. "Anyway, bruise is cleared up. Might ache a bit for an hour, but shouldn't any longer than that."

"Thanks," Felix said, curt as always, but genuine. He didn't get up though. "You asked me, so fair is fair. What's keeping you here?"

"I…" He paused on his words. Was it just Yuri's orders? No, it was something else.

"Figure I can maybe show my brother I'm better than I am," he said quietly. "See if I can prove him wrong."

Felix nodded and stood up. "Good luck," he said, and it almost sounded sincere.

Before leaving, he paused at the door. "You should go see the refugees. See how you can help there. That's better time spent for your brother." And then he left Balthus to contemplate that.

"Hey."

Shamir stopped brushing her horse and turned around. In the stable's entrance stood Balthus, wearing his long coat that didn't cover up as much chest as it should have.

"Yeah?" she asked, resuming brushing.

"I didn't want to bother Leonie," he said sheepishly. "Felix said I should go help the refugees, but I don't really know where to go for that."

"Felix did?" Shamir raised an eyebrow. Maybe that kid had a heart in there somewhere. Guess there had to be something for Sylvain to love in that man. "Sure, I can. Give me a minute."

"There's…something else too."

She said nothing, waiting as he stood there.

"Do you know a Catherine?"

Shamir stopped.

"Sorry, is this a sensitive subject?" he backpedaled. "I don't mean to—"

"Spit it out," Shamir commanded, turning to him. "Something happen to her?"

"No!" Balthus said, though it did little to alleviate Shamir's expression. "She just talked about a Shamir a lot. I thought that if you were her, you might want to know she's okay."

Shamir would not admit the amount of tension that drained away at that. She held her exterior together. "There some reason she might not be okay?"

"Well…" Balthus trailed off. "I kinda—well, no—we found her roughed up at Garreg Mach. Bandits, probably. She's okay now! But yeah, rough shape then."

That would probably coincide with the last letter she received from Catherine. Shamir sighed. "You said she…talks about me?"

Balthus scratched his head. "Sometimes. Sorry, it occurs to me that maybe I shouldn't have said anything."

"Tough," Shamir snarled, letting her anger slip out. Anger, yes, but mixed with the desire—no, need—to know.

"She misses you," he said. "Talks to Byleth about you. Wonders where you are."

Shamir said nothing. She closed her eyes, thinking.

"I dunno what your plans are after this, but I could bring her a message if you want?" Balthus offered.

"I…" Was she going back to her? Did she have any right to, after leaving her?

She swallowed the problem, putting it out of mind. "I'll consider it."

Balthus nodded, happy to be spared the fury he seemed to be expecting. "No problem. Hey, that's a nice horse! Does it have a name?"

Shamir tilted her head towards him with a gaze that told him everything she thought about that abysmal segue. "Horse," she deadpanned.

"Really?" he asked, meek.

"No, dumbass. It's in Dagdan, you couldn't pronounce it." She scoffed, wondering why any gods or goddesses had seen fit to saddle her with this sap.

Though, Leonie told her a little of what he'd been through. She should go easy on him.

"Hey, kid," she said. He was older than her, wasn't he?

If the thought occurred to him too, he spent no time on it. "Yeah?"

"Your brother. You want to make things better between you two?"

He perked up, like a puppy. "Yeah?"

"Take it from someone who knows. You need to atone for that. Change. Put in the leg work. That sort of thing," Shamir suggested.

"Leonie told me something similar," he said.

"Good. So do it." Shamir gestured to the horse next to hers. "You can start now. I'll take you to the camp outside the city."

Like a grunt obeying his superior's orders (or like a puppy), he leapt to it. Shamir almost chuckled at it before following suit.

"Lady Leonie, a moment please?"

"Ah, Leonie, always a pleasure."

"Leonie! Thanks for your help last week."

"Oh, you're a blessing upon us all, Leonie."

"Miss Leonie, could you help me find my pony?"

Ten minutes later and Leonie pressed a well-loved miniature horse stuffed with hay into the little girl's arms. It had tears along its sides and was caked with dirt, but the girl hugged it so hard Leonie feared it might burst.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" the girl cried, jumping up and down. "You're the bestest, Miss Leonie!"

Leonie reached out, ruffling her hair. She grinned. "Next time I visit, I'll see what I can do about sewing up your friend there. How's that sound?"

The girl's eyes widened. "You're coming back? When?"

She laughed. "Seems like I'm always around here, kiddo. Give it a few days and I'm sure I'll be back. Now go, run along back to your family."

"Mmkay!" the girl said, smile so wide it had to hurt, before scampering off.

Leonie watched her go with a smile before standing up, brushing the dust off her legs, and walking on. Contrary to most of her visits to the Derdriu camp, this time she had a purpose beyond helping where she could.

"Excuse me?" she asked an older woman who lingered outside one of the tents. "Can you point me to where the clerics have set up?"

"Of course, follow me," the woman said. She glanced back to where she'd seen Leonie with the little girl. "You like kids?"

Leonie scratched her head, a bit embarrassed. "Always have. Why?"

The woman laughed. "You be careful then. You're quite the bachelorette to just about everyone in this camp already."

Leonie flushed crimson and stammered a lame attempt at words. The woman's laugh crescendoed and she teased no more.

They bid each other farewell at the central tent that the clerics occupied, filled with rows and rows of sickbeds for various injuries, minor to major. Leonie opened the flap and stepped in, seeing her quarry almost immediately.

Balthus was speaking to a boy, no more than ten, as he healed a scrape on his leg. Leonie stayed back, watching for a moment before he noticed her.

"Leonie?" he called out. "Is it time?"

"Yeah. Shamir told me you were out here. Figured I could visit one last time before we ship out," Leonie said. She glanced around the tent as the numerous clerics flit to each sickbed like honeybees to flowers.

"One last time?" the little boy asked. "Are you not coming back?"

Goddessdamn kids who were too smart for their own good. She knelt down next to where Balthus was and glanced at the scrape that was scabbing over as they spoke.

"Where'd you get that? It's quite the battle wound," she asked with a smile.

"Climbing a tree," the boy said, proud. In a smaller voice, "I didn't get very high."

"Tell you what, it might be a bit before I visit again, but how about I teach you how to climb a tree when I get back?" Leonie said. "We'll make sure you don't fall again, okay?"

"Okay!" he chirped. Looking down at his leg that had healed up, he turned to Balthus. "Can I go now?"

"Run along," Balthus chuckled. The boy jumped from the chair he'd been sitting in and bounded out of the tent.

"You able to help out much here?" Leonie asked.

"Not good for much more than tree climbing injuries," Balthus said. "But yeah, plenty of minor stuff that the skilled healers don't need to be bothered with."

"Do you like it?" she asked, hopeful.

"I do, yeah," Balthus said. "Maybe after this war I should hang up my gauntlets and heal instead."

Leonie nodded, approving. "I don't know what your brother would think, but I think that's a good idea. If it counts for anything."

Balthus stood up, Leonie following suit. "It does, actually. You keep good company, Leonie. Your friends treat me better than I deserve."

"Family," Leonie corrected. "We're a family." They'd been through far too much to be anything else. And she…well, she'd never had one.

She enjoyed it.

"Family," he amended. "That sounds nice."

Leonie clasped his shoulder. "Don't sell yourself short. It's here if you want to stay with us beyond this battle and war."

He smiled. "I'll think about it."

Author Notes: I figured out why I like writing these characters so much—it's because it's such a weird group. I can't imagine there are any fics that group one character from each faction together (Leonie, Felix, Ferdinand, Shamir, and Balthus) and bottle episodes them. It's such a weird combo that surprisingly seems to work. But if yall aren't enjoying it as much as I am, don't worry, next chapter is much more battle adjacent and then the next is the fun one.

Like hell am I gonna deadname Yuri in this fic. But there ya go, a bit more insight into our little scoundrel. They still use they/he pronouns. Whatever they used before doesn't matter.

Editing Notes:
8/24/2021: Corrected a formatting mistake. Minor grammatical adjustments.
2/13/2022: Minor grammatical adjustments.