Mercedes tore her eyes away from Dorothea twirling Maya around on the dance floor and smiled at Ignatz. "You seem happier, since Shamir's been back."

He spared a grin. "Guess so. It's been years since I've seen her. Didn't realize just how much I missed her until now."

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

"Been so busy with Catherine, doing things on Claude's orders," Ignatz explained. "There wasn't too much time for idle thoughts. But now that she's back?" He smiled. "Things feel better."

"She's your family, is it such a surprise?" Mercedes said.

"Suppose not," was all Ignatz said. He looked content, eyes drifting to Shamir and Catherine talking and smiling on the other side of the room.

"Have you been to see your family recently?" Mercedes asked. "I know they're busy with the new trade route to Almyra."

"Went to see the girls a year ago," Ignatz said, a bright smile overtaking him. Mercedes didn't need to guess how much he loved his younger sisters. "Haven't seen my parents in a while. Nor my oldest brother."

"You once told me that you didn't get along with your parents and brother," Mercedes said, curious. "Pardon if this is forward, but is that still the case?"

Ignatz shrugged. "It's not that I don't get along with my parents, we're just not close. My brother is the heir to the family fortune, so they spend time with him. And my brother…well, I've never been fond of him."

"I'm sorry for asking," Mercedes apologized.

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. I'm close with the girls. We write each other, or at least did before I started to move around so much with the war. And I'm with my family here in this room. I'm content with where I stand in regards to family."

Mercedes nodded and took her first real look at Ignatz in years. For so long, she'd forgotten just who he had started as. A quiet, scared boy. The man in front of her was different, yet the same. Deep down, if she dug far enough, Mercedes reckoned she could unearth that boy.

But she didn't want to do anything of the sort. For all his struggles, Ignatz was happy. Since rejoining with the Alliance army, she'd seen him smile and laugh more than she'd ever remembered.

He'd grown into his own, something she hadn't thought possible when she'd pressed her hands over his severed leg five years ago in the Mausoleum. When her brother had cut his leg off, she'd blamed herself for the failure to reattach it properly. He'd be crippled for life, all for her mistake.

Yet here he stood, her friend. She'd made sure, in the wake of that disaster, to become competent enough that she'd never fail anyone like she did him.

But maybe it wasn't a failure, she realized. It was the best she could do at the time. And look at him! Ignatz, the Sovereign Duke's own ambassador, best sniper in the Alliance, and a commander in the army. He'd come so far.

"Mercedes?" Ignatz asked quietly. "You're crying?"

"So I am," she realized, wiping the tears away. "I'm proud of you, Ignatz."

He was taken aback, and blushed. "I—thank you, Mercedes. Can I ask why?"

Words fluttered in her ears as she heard snippets of conversation around the room, warmed by company. Stories exchanged, reunions had, loves expressed.

Shamir. "He takes a sip of the liquor and spits it out—screams 'motherfucker' at the top of his lungs!"

Hilda. "Damn right he won! That's what you fucking get for betting against a Deer!"

Leonie. "Felix says hello, by the way. Wants to have a duel with you, next time he sees you, Catherine. You know how he is."

Ferdinand. "And they start shouting her name. I still dream about it and feel the adrenalin."

Claude. "You're the best brother I could ask for."

Seteth. "Dear Goddess, if you spin me one more time, I'll fall over."

Dorothea. "Once the war's over. I think the wedding will be a nice respite."

Marianne. "I'm happy. Very happy."

Mercedes closed her eyes and sighed. "Just realizing how far we've all come. How far this journey has taken us."

Ignatz chuckled. "You're right about that. I barely recognize most of us, when I think back to who we used to be. I think that's good."

"It is," Mercedes said. "It's the most we can ever hope for, to become who we're meant to be."

Ignatz raised his glass in a silent toast. Mercedes joined him, two solitary figures recognizing what it all had been for.

They were content.

"I look forward to working with you," Lorenz said, shaking Nader's hand.

The large man—and Goddess was he tall—smirked. "Heard a lot about you from Claude. Seems to believe in you a lot."

"And Holst told me something about you, Nader the Undefeated," Lorenz said, giving him a quizzical look. "Something about how many times he's defeated you."

Nader's guffaw echoed and no one paid even a slight glance. "That brat, always wanting to make a point about that. He's cheeky. Anyway, Lorenz, they don't call me Undefeated because I don't lose."

"Then why do they?"

"I'm called Undefeated because even when I lose, I get back up again. I learn from mistakes, I adapt. I hit back harder, stronger. Your people think that Almyra is all about the battle, how we love the thrill of the fight and respect those with strength. And that's not altogether wrong," Nader said, "but there's nuance to it. We don't respect people who give up. But me? I don't stop when the going gets tough. My enemies know that they can't defeat me. Even if I lose, I'll be back."

"Holst neglected to mention that part," Lorenz said, a new respect for the man in his eyes.

Nader laughed. "Course he did. We have something of a friendly rivalry. Like to take the piss out of each other on our home turfs."

"How did that start?"

He scratched his head. "Don't actually remember."

Lorenz rolled his eyes. "Very well, then answer me this. Why does Claude's mother call him Khalid?"

"Oh, that's his birth name. He didn't tell you?" Nader asked.

"He didn't," Lorenz said, unoffended. "Suppose he's someone else here, on this side of the Locket."

"I don't know about that. I think he's both," Nader said. "He just met you all as Claude. Maybe he just thinks it easier to keep it that way for you all."

Lorenz nodded. "That could be." He paused, circling back to the conversation thread he'd unconsciously ducked away from. "Listen, about Holst—"

"I heard," Nader said, unbothered. "I beat the shit out of that kid more than some Deadlord could ever. He'll recover."

"That's some faith you've got," he said, surprised.

"That's because Holst is a damnably fine man," Nader said, gruffly. "Nothing could ever kill him except time. You'd watch that man take wounds that would kill any number of lesser people and shrug it off. He'll get out of that bed right as rain, I guarantee that."

"I hope some of your confidence rubs off on me," Lorenz said with a light chuckle.

"He'll get up and demand to get back to work. I'd bet my life on it."

Byleth realized she was prey the second Hapi wrapped an arm around her. Claude, opposite her, had Hilda do the same.

"So, Queen," Hapi said.

"So, Claude," Hilda said.

Claude looked annoyed at having his time with Byleth interrupted, but hid it quickly. "What do you want, Hilda?"

"That dance floor is looking pretty empty and—" Hilda said.

"—those musicians are working hard—" Hapi continued.

"—so someone should go dance for them," Hilda finished.

"So go bother Lorenz," Claude said. Byleth giggled.

"He's next," Hapi said.

"Yeah, Hapi and I were just talking about the Millennium Ball and how that was the last time you two danced together."

Byleth glanced at Claude. "Did we dance there? I don't actually remember if we did."

Claude wracked his brain. "You know, I think you might be right."

Hilda's eyes bulged. "Dance. Now."

"Hilda, we're—" Byleth tried.

"No!" she insisted.

"What she's trying to say, Queen, is that everyone's dancing. People are noticing you're not taking part."

"So?" Byleth asked, unbothered.

Hilda, losing her patience, grabbed Claude and whispered something in his ear. His eyes widened and he scowled, briefly, at her. "You're a witch, Hilda."

"Love you too!" she said cheerily, grabbing Hapi. "C'mon, sister, let's let these two be." And just as much of a whirlwind as they'd arrived, they spun away.

"Goddess," mumbled Claude, scratching his forehead.

"What did she say?" Byleth asked, curious.

Claude paused before obviously lying. "Seems we're the source of a bet. And our dear Hilda has money riding on us."

Byleth didn't call it out, thinking that maybe she could guess at the true nature of the words. "So dance?"

"Dance, I guess," Claude said, holding out a hesitant hand.

She took it, letting him lead her. It wouldn't hurt to dance with him, to see what it felt like. Catherine had said to see if she could picture herself with him.

Claude swept her into a waltz, his hands on her chastely. He smelled nice, she realized. Hell, he looked nice. Byleth enjoyed the moment, smiling as she was danced across the room.

And if they were paying attention, they might have seen Hilda and Hapi, whispering to each other, congratulating each other on a half-assed plan well executed.

And if they were paying attention, they might have seen Tiana shaking her head, amused. She took a sip from her wine, watching her son dance with the woman he loved.

She'd just needed a push. Tiana smirked, vindicated.

"I meant to ask," Leonie said, leaning against one of the stone walls on the side of the room. More of the tables had been moved away as alcohol took effect (or maybe it was just the restless energy of the room) as more and more began to dance. She'd been passing a little time watching the stranger pairs. They made her feel hopeful.

Raphael dancing some obscure country jig to the tune of a waltz alongside Dorothea who of course knew the dance. Yuri and Maya danced out of their way, avoiding the rather wide berth of the two. He led, while she followed, clearly not knowing the steps. But no one seemed to care.

Elsewhere, Ferdinand and Lorenz educated the masses on how to dance with perfect form while Flayn was actively trying to push Shamir onto the dancefloor. Claude laughed loudly as he and Byleth passed, Shamir glaring death at him. Others filled in the gaps or took seats watching, just as she did. There wasn't a face without a smile.

"Pardon?" Balthus said, glancing to her while standing aside her.

"Oh, sorry," she said. "I meant to ask, do you think Trevor will respond to those letters you're sending him?"

He shrugged. "I wondered that too, when I wrote the first one. Haven't sent all that many, I think it's three. Doesn't matter. But I don't think I need a response. This rift is on me, it's my duty to patch it."

"Think you'll keep trying after the war?" Leonie asked. "Letters are easier than seeing someone in person."

"I don't fancy myself much of a wordsmith," Balthus said, chuckling. "So maybe the talking is the easy part for me. Or at least what I'm better at."

"Go spend an evening with Claude, he'll get you writing like a lord in no time," Leonie said with a wry grin.

"You saying I'm no lord?" Balthus teased, his smile playful and genuine. "I'll have you know, transgressions aside, I can mimic the perfect noble disposition if it comes down to it."

"Don't know if I believe that," she murmured, a grin reverberating in her voice.

"Rude," chided Balthus, the lack of bite in his tone doing nothing to dissuade his tendency to act like a puppy.

She opened her mouth to exchange another round of banter, but cheers cut her off. Leonie turned away from Balthus, looking to the dancefloor.

Their family, undiluted joy present on everyone's face, formed a half circle around the couple with lips locked with one another's.

Ferdinand held Lorenz tight, pouring every ounce of passion and unspoken feelings into the kiss. For them, the world was a mere fragment of reality, a piece, but not the whole. No—the whole was their world right now, lost in the moment that would be an eternity in memory. Lorenz reached a hand up, tangling fingers in Ferdinand's hair for a moment.

The two separated, faces flushed, not even noticing the crowd. Their fingers danced with each other, moving as one before joining in clasped hands. Lorenz' lips moved, words as quiet as a breath, and Ferdinand listened. He nodded, then bent forward for a second kiss. The crowd cheered again, louder.

And Leonie's heart broke.

Balthus glanced between her and the two men, his brain racing through memories to add it all up. "Oh," he eventually said. "You loved him, didn't you?" His face morphed from confusion to concern, tinged with melancholy.

Leonie just nodded.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a sideways hug. "Hey, there's a balcony, want to get some air? Or just get away for a bit?"

"I—I shouldn't," she said, trying so, so, hard to hold the tears back. She deserved this, didn't she? Fortune favors the bold, something Ferdinand had that clearly she didn't.

She felt so disgusting for thinking that. Lorenz and Ferdinand, they were her family. Thinking any poor thoughts of them sat heavy in her stomach, burning like a mage's fireball. Or maybe that was just her shattered heart, glistening like a cracked mirror. "They'll wonder where I went."

"Leave that to me," Balthus said. "I promise, you won't have anything to worry about. We just need to do what's best for you."

"Sure," she conceded, keeping her head down and the tears still back. She was a soldier, dammit. She would not cry, not here, not in front of them all. Let those two have their moment, and she'd have hers alone.

Had Leonie been looking, she'd have seen Shamir be the sole person to notice their beeline. Balthus made eye contact with her and had an unspoken conversation. Just like he had a minute ago, Shamir's eyes widened in silent realization.

"Don't worry, Leonie," Balthus said, keeping his voice light. "There's not a cloud in the sky." They walked out onto the stone balcony.

"What does that matter?" she muttered, a tear finally escaping.

"You can see the stars," he said softly, still holding her. It was comforting, like the way she imagined a brother might have comforted her if she had one.

"So you can," she tried to say, though tears choked her voice. She tried again and failed.

Balthus seemed to understand. "You know, back in Abyss, the thing I missed the most was the stars. Cave ceilings just aren't the same. You like stars at all?"

She said nothing and he expected it.

"Always had a fondness for the sky and the stars," Balthus said. "Never knew the meaning of any of them. That was more Yuri or Hapi's domain. Or Constance's. Me, I liked the shooting stars. You ever make a wish on one?"

"Once," she managed, leaning further into him as she felt weaker and weaker.

He nodded. "It come true?"

"I went to Garreg Mach," she said.

"I'm jealous," he admitted. "You've found such an incredible place here with these people. Reminds me of a constellation, you know? One star's just a star, but a group arranged into a picture? Now that's a story."

Leonie said nothing.

"All stories have their low points," he murmured, rubbing her back. "Makes the high points higher, according to Yuri. Me, I'm not one for books, so I'll trust them on that."

"You don't have to do this, Balthus," she whispered amidst tears.

"And yet here I am," he said, a note of teasing in his voice. "I'm your friend. Part of your constellation." Balthus paused. "Actually, that's a stupid metaphor. Damn, thought I had something with this whole thing."

She chuckled, weakly, but he smiled at getting something closer to a smile out of her.

They remained out there, watching the stars.

"I assume those two have had quite the history?" Constance asked, sitting down next to Mercedes.

"Hm? Oh, yes, we've been expecting something to happen for years," Mercedes said. "I suppose stars aligned for tonight, at long last."

"This was a smart idea," Constance said. "Having this soiree. Letting our hair down…it's nice."

"I like your hair longer, by the way," she said, gesturing to Constance. "It's a good look on you."

"Oh, thank you. It seems we've done the reverse for each other since Fhirdiad, no?" she joked, nodding to Mercedes' own shorter hair.

"Goddess, I haven't thought about school in Fhirdiad in a long time," Mercedes admitted. "When I saw you around here, I didn't recognize you. You've changed quite a bit."

Constance wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, thank all that is holy I have. But yes, time has certainly carried us far." She sighed. "I didn't know how to approach you once I heard about Annette."

"Ah," Mercedes said. "I know you weren't ever close with her."

"No, I wasn't," Constance said. "You and I barely overlapped in our time there as it was. Perhaps with more time…"

"Enough," Mercedes murmured. "Let's not spend time on regrets. I'd rather not go down that path, not with her."

"Of course," Constance apologized.

"How's the quest for restoring Nuvelle?" Mercedes asked. "I heard about what had happened, though I was so young at the time. Did…is anyone still alive?"

"If they are, they're playing me for a fool," Constance said. "Gone, all of them. I eventually found my way to Abyss after Fhirdiad. And then I met Hapi. So there's some good in there."

Mercedes smiled. "Oh? She's quite the memorable person. Dorothea's told me about her."

An unladylike laugh escaped Constance. "Quite, but she's special. Quirks and all, I'm happy to have found her. But to answer your question, I'll admit that's a reason why I'm here. I attached myself to Yuri in hopes to find resources to restore my house. But now, winning a war with the Empire? Well, there will need to be rulers of what comes after, no? Perhaps Lord Riegan will see reason to my requests in whatever our post-war world looks like."

"Ambitious," Mercedes said. "But I expect nothing less from you. When the time comes, I can help you talk to him."

"We talk of me changing, but you, Mercedes, have not changed at all," Constance said. "You are still just the benevolent angel you've always been!"

"I wouldn't say I haven't changed," Mercedes murmured. "But doing good for those I care about is still important to me. That much hasn't changed."

"Good. For if the world dampens your spirits, then I would worry about what good is left in this world."

She blushed. "Flatterer."

"Nonsense," Constance said. "I simply speak the truth."

"Coco!" Hapi yelled from across the room. "C'mere!"

"Pardon me," Constance said, standing. "We'll speak more later."

"She's got you wrapped around her finger, huh?" Mercedes teased.

"Perhaps," Constance chuckled, departing.

"Hey, it's Marianne, right? Do you have a moment?"

She turned to see who had tapped her on the shoulder. Balthus. "Sure. Hilda, I'll be right back," she said, excusing herself.

Her wife nodded, squeezing her hand before letting go. Hilda turned back to relentlessly ribbing Lorenz.

"Something you need, Balthus?" Marianne asked, walking with him away from the dense part of the gathering.

"Not really, just doing a favor for someone. Leonie had something come up, so she couldn't track you down like she wanted." Balthus scratched his head.

"Is she alright?" Marianne asked, alarmed. She glanced around, looking for her friend.

"Oh, she's…it's…well, it's her business, not mine to share. Anyway, we can talk about that after." Balthus bit his lip. "It's about your father."

Marianne stiffened.

"I don't know any details," he reassured. "I don't want to mess with your private affairs. But Leonie wanted me to tell you that we saw him in Derdriu. We sent a messenger, but judging from your reaction I'm gonna guess they didn't arrive."

"They did not," Marianne answered.

"Yeah, well, he's learned where you are. Figured it out somehow, I dunno how. Leonie does, I'm sure she wanted to tell you herself," Balthus rambled. "I've…guessed a bit that he's not someone you're on friendly terms with."

"That is a mild way of putting it," Marianne sighed. "Thank you for telling me. I'll admit, I expected something of this. I promised myself I would stop running, but here I am, still not having solved this."

"Ha, guess we're a little similar there," Balthus said, jamming his hands in his pockets. "Look, I know we barely know each other, but any friend of Leonie's is one of mine. You need my help, you'll have it."

"Thank you, Balthus," Marianne said. "Hilda's told me about you. She's fond of you."

"She's a good woman," he said, sheepishly. "You two look happy together. I'm glad you make her happy."

"Thank you," Marianne said. "Now, about Leonie, is she okay?"

"She's safe and all that," Balthus said. He glanced at the door to the balcony. "She's on the balcony. It's her story to tell, but if you ask me, she could use a friend. A real one, one she's known for a while."

"I see," Marianne said, beginning to leave. She stopped, and turned to Balthus. "Though I think you're a good friend if you're looking out for her like this."

"She deserves it," Balthus said.

With that, Marianne left. Balthus lingered, trying to figure out what to do with himself. Sighing, he took one last glance at the door to the balcony, then went to find Yuri.

"Gosh, it has been so good to see you again!" Maya said, giving her what had to have been the tenth hug that night.

Dorothea laughed. "It hasn't been that long, has it? The wedding wasn't that long ago."

Maya huffed. "Still, I like seeing you all! As much as I get along with Lady Tiana, it's a bit lonely in Almyra."

She resisted the urge to ruffle the girl's hair, given how much of a height different there was between them. "Tell you what, how about Mercie and I visit after this war is done?"

"I'm holding you to that," Maya said. "There's so much to show you there!"

"I'll bet. And when I come, you can show me the fashion there," Dorothea said. "This time, you'll be the expert."

Maya blushed, embarrassed. "I doubt I could compare to you."

Not long after Garreg Mach, when Dorothea had first met Maya, she gave her some advice on women's fashion. To Dorothea, it was just light conversation. To Maya, it had meant far more than that, something Dorothea realized as years passed. Unintentionally, but fortunately, they fostered a bond.

"Nonsense!" Dorothea said. "You're a diva on the world's stage, just like me. You just do things with numbers and trading that I could never fathom."

"Oh, please," Maya said, rolling her eyes. "You can conjure fire from your hands, how is that less impressive?"

Dorothea poked her on the nose. "Excuse me, missy, are you trying to tell me that being a trademaster at your age is no small feat?"

"Dorothea," she groaned, drawing out the last syllable.

"Nope!" Dorothea said. "Auntie Dorothea won't hear another word of it. Our little girl, so grown up!" She pretended to wipe a tear away.

Maya groaned louder and Dorothea laughed. She was a sweetheart, just like Raphael. It was a good reminder for why she fought, to protect people like her in the world.

"Let's go see what Mercie's doing," Dorothea said. "She'll be upset if I keep you to myself all night."

"Taking a breather?" Yuri asked.

Byleth glanced away from the window as she gazed at the stars. She'd always had a fondness for them. Earlier in the night, before Hilda had whisked him away, he'd told her about some of the constellations, reminiscing about ones in Almyra that they couldn't see.

It reminded her of her father, staying up late with her on cloudless nights. They'd point at the stars, drawing pictures with them, not knowing any of the proper names. Jeralt had always pretended to know, but she never believed him.

Goddess, it'd be nice to hear one of those stories now.

"Rare to see a cloudless night during the rainy season here," Byleth said, nodding.

They hummed. "Guess even the night's sky came to attend this little party."

She chuckled. "Our honored guest."

Yuri laughed. "Look, I won't keep you. I just came over to thank you."

Byleth glanced at them, cocking her head to the side. He continued, "For introducing us to everyone here. You're the connecting point between our two groups. You always called these people your family and I'll admit I doubted you. But…" they trailed off for a moment, watching the stars. "But you were right. These are great people. And I hope we can be a part of that family someday."

"You already are," she said.

Yuri nodded. "I didn't want to assume. But thank you, that means a lot to me. Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Just been meaning to say that to you for a while."

"Yuri, thank you."

"For what?"

"For finding me, a year ago."

Yuri flashed a confident smirk. "Think nothing of it."

Their party continued into the night, a golden memory on that summer's night. As the saying goes, spring winds gather, winter winds scatter. Though the season had passed, those verdant winds were no less strong.

They blew through Fódlan, past Merceus, as Bernadetta lay atop one of the walls, watching Myson escort Saint Indech in the dark of night. As she bit her lip nervously, the wind brushed by cheek—a caress—and calmed her. She knew what she had to do.

Those winds carried on, towards Enbarr, blowing the dying embers of a campfire. Petra stirred in her sleep, a rare good dream keeping her company. She slept soundly.

Across from her, Lysithea stopped the wind from blowing the page in her journal. Lit only by a small flicker of flame in her hand, she brainstormed ways to sneak into Enbarr, ways to get to her wife and ask her why.

Even the north, cold as it may be, had its seasons. Sylvain brushed a hand on the throne that should have held his friend. He gave it one last look before turning his back and stepping out into the wind.

Ashe watched the same sky the Deer did, wondering when the wind would carry him home. It'd been so long since he'd seen his family. He missed them, but he had his country to save first.

Outside the city's walls, Felix's horse slowed as he looked upon the capital of his home. He spared a rare smile at the Gautier flags, blowing in the breeze, raised above the city. With a tug of the reins, his horse trotted to the gate.

Gathered and scattered, they worked for Fódlan's new dawn, for the world they wanted. Their journey was not over, but for the first time, the end felt in sight.

It would be a world they were proud of.

Author Notes: Excellent, I managed to fit a smooch into chapter 69. It took me long enough, but finally got another mlm pairing in this story. Leave it to me to accidentally seed this pairing nearly seventy chapters into the story. That was not how long I expected it to take after I made the decision for them.

Editing Notes:
12/10/2021: Corrected a moment of continuity error.
2/16/2022: Minor grammatical adjustments.