You Fool! You Idiot! You Empty-Headed, Bumbling, Boulder-Brained –Hey! I am not done!

Horsebow Moon

Lindhart and Mercedes took charge of Flayn and the other girl, Monica, while Marianne continued to assist Manuela, mixing a draught of the strongest concoction the physician knew to replenish blood loss. Flayn and Monica received half a dose each. Byleth got two.

The hall outside was crowded with worried men, which only worsened as the House Leaders arrived looking for answers. Eventually, Alois stepped up.

"Alright then, let's all settle down. Captain, if we may use your office to debrief, we'll be right next door if anything changes."

The students squeezed in together on one couch, Alois and Hanneman took the other while Seteth paced. Jeralt leaned heavily back against the short edge of his desk, glaring at the wall that separated him from his child.

"Now then," Hanneman started "Let us begin by establishing the facts. Firstly, we have found Miss Flayn and with her, Miss Monica a student who went missing last year, they were being held by the Death Knight for purposes unknown. Secondly, Miss Eisner was injured in combat with the Death Knight before reinforcements arrived, but received treatment immediately and is stable at present."

"'Injured' you call it?" Jeralt scoffed, fists clenched "She was damn near eviscerated."

"Grievous though the wound was, she no doubt saved Professor Manuela from worse and was, in turn, saved. There is no need for present concern." Hanneman added with purposeful calmness, more for the students than anyone else. Catching this, Jeralt made a deliberate effort to take a breath and unclench his hands. If his grip shifted instead to the edge of the desk it was at least an improvement.

"Thirdly" Seteth took over, halting his pacing by the tea table "the Death Knight has been identified as Professor Jeritza. If anyone sees him, they are not to engage and to report it to the Knights immediately. As it stands, we anticipate some… disruption to classes in the next few weeks. We will be relying on you, House Leaders, to assist as we find a working schedule."

Dimitri was about to offer assurances when there was a knock on the door and Lindhart poked his head through

"Pardon, Flayn and the other girl are awake."

Seteth visibly restrained himself from running to the door. He was halfway through his first step before he arrested the motion and addressed the room

"Excellent. Well, Hanneman if you would begin working on the issue of our lacking staff I will join you shortly. Alois if you would kindly update the Archbishop, and you students inform your houses that all is in hand."

As the others filed out of the room to their tasks Jeralt's grip on the desk turned white-knuckled.

If she'd managed to avoid detection before, there was no chance Byleth could escape Rhea's notice now.

~o~*~o~

As soon as the noise next door had settled –Flayn and Monica dismissed to other locations, the three white magic students ushered out to rest and reflect on what they had learned and achieved, Jeralt made his way through to check on his daughter. He ignored Manuela as she puttered around moving the mess more than tidying it and running some few last checks. Instead he eased into a chair by Byleth's bed and took stock.

Her face had healed cleanly; nose in perfect alignment and only the very faintest hint of what would otherwise have been an impressive set of black eyes lingering. She was breathing easily, having been changed from her armour to a pale linen gown that was less constrictive and would allow easier access for her healers. Her right hand was bound with a splint, conjured ice cooling the muscles swelling at her wrist –he hadn't even noticed that injury earlier.

Her colour was better, and she was sleeping as calmly as she ever did when she wasn't dreaming.

The fear which had held his heart in an unrelenting grasp since that one terrible moment at last released and he was finally able to move past the singular devoted thought of "Byleth" on to his next steps.

Food, for a start. Clean clothes. Get a message to the troop.

Prepare for Rhea.

Figure out what in the world was going on around here. And how to protect his daughter from the worst of it.

He sighed and pushed himself out of the chair. "I'm going to grab myself some food and get cleaned up, Manuela. Can I bring you anything?"

"Jeralt, we need to talk."

It didn't take much to figure out what Manuela wanted to talk about as she stood, one hand holding the pulse at Byleth's wrist, the other pressed against her patient's heart, face that careful non-expression only doctors with bad news could manage. Jeralt, who was, in fact, more of an optimist than he'd admit, opted for dismissive as he continued towards the door;

"Don't worry about it, it's normal."

"This is many things Jeralt Eisner, but normal is not one of them."

"If you knew my middle name I'd have gotten the full treatment just then, wouldn't I?"

"Jeralt." The Captain lifted his hands in the universal signal of surrender and made his way back to sit in the chair

"Alright, what do you want to know?"

Manuela paused, flustered, as if she couldn't believe what she was about to say, then asked the question that had chased him away from the monastery twenty-one years ago "Why doesn't your daughter have a heartbeat?"

"I wish I knew." He answered, and under Manuela's glare spread his arms and elaborated "I wasn't at the birth. By the time I arrived all I could be told was that my wife had died, but my daughter was saved. Even then, she didn't cry, didn't laugh, didn't fuss… it was difficult, at first. Lady Rhea told me not to worry, but of course I did. So I had her examined."

Manuela filled in the blanks "And then you left the Church." Her hand strayed up from Byleth's chest to brush some hair from her face. "Who presided over the birth?"

"Rhea."

Manuela seemed to deflate, a burden added to her shoulders "And she told you nothing?"

"Not a damn thing."

The physician sighed and tucked the girl's hand back under the blanket "Well, she's made it this far… I won't go poking my nose in to mess with what isn't broken, and you know I'll keep this to myself but… Well, it does make one wonder."

"You're telling me. Are we done here, then?"

"Yes, you can take your time. She'll be out for the night at least –unless she has some resistance to anaesthetics I should know about?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

Manuela nodded "I'll watch her until you're back then, try not to worry too much. We wouldn't want you getting wrinkled now."

A chuff that might generously have been called a laugh escaped him, but whatever good feelings Manuela's light-hearted teasing may have engendered died almost as soon as he laid eyes on the doors of the audience chamber.

~o~*~o~

Byleth moved towards wakefulness like a bubble rising from the depths, the pressure of sleep lifting until she was floating just on the surface of it.

It was too much to open her eyes, but she could hear the reassuring murmur of her Father's snoring, so even though she felt hazy, heavy and not quite connected to herself, she knew nothing could be wrong.

"Sothis?"

"I… am not speaking to you." A sharp pang of confusion, followed by a wave of sadness and loneliness, which in turn gave way to a frustration that was not her own "Do not! Do not guilt me into- oh this bond is most inconvenient right now! I am angry with you, and you should feel badly about it!"

"What… did I do?"

"Well, at least you acknowledge it is your own doing! I gave you my power you simple-minded fool! And what do you do? You forget about it and let yourself be split open! Have you no sense of self-preservation? Have you any sense at all!?"

"Oh…"

"If it wasn't bad enough that you were taken in by your own ploy for reinforcements, you were defeated by a simple sweep! I could have dodged it! And –what are you so happy about?"

"You're upset…"

"Yes, I think we have well established that."

"-because you CareHappinessAffectionFriend."

Sothis fell quiet for a moment as her frustration battled against Byleth's, admittedly drugged, contentment and her own better nature.

"Oh, fine. I am glad you survived. But you are still the stupidest creature I ever –Hey! Do not fall asleep while I am lecturing you!"

It was too late. With one last little pulse of happiness the need to sleep pulled Byleth back under.

~o~*~o~

Seteth's instinct was to take Flayn and flee. To leave Garreg Mach –possibly even Fódlan- and find a place where they might live out of sight; unknown and unnoticed.

But the best solution to their sudden lack of a Professor that Hanneman had so far come up with involved him devolving most of his church-related duties to the Cardinals and taking on the Black Eagles himself –not as a stop-gap, but for the rest of the year.

And suddenly it wasn't just his debt to Rhea that kept him here. Bernadetta needed someone to encourage her –Felix as well in a similar vein. Something had to be done about Hilda's laziness and Cyril's lack of self-interest. He could likely make more of a difference to these young people as a Professor than as the Archbishop's formidable advisor.

If he were her Professor, he could certainly keep a closer eye on Flayn. She may get her wish to join the Academy after all.

There was more work to be done before it was possible. He could not simply hand over everything, but they appeared to be closing in on a way forward.

~o~*~o~

When she woke again her mind was sharper, clearer. Her composure intact once more. Her eyes opened and then closed immediately; both against the light and so she could brush the sleep from them. She was southpaw again, she noted, her right wrist splinted. Twice in one year was the beginnings of a pattern; she'd have to start training her off-hand more seriously.

"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty." Her father rumbled from somewhere beside her, and she let her head loll over to view him "About time, too. I can't stay much longer."

Byleth hummed a little to warm up her throat, but her voice still cracked when she asked; "Job?"

"Mission" he agreed "Someone has to make a start tracking down –well, you can probably guess."

Byleth hummed again and levered herself upright using her elbows, sliding back until she was propped up with her pillow warming her back against the headboard. "Interrogation first?" she asked, resigning herself to it.

"Oh I have some questions." Jeralt affirmed, heaving himself out of the chair to loom over her "We'll start with what the hell did you think you were playing at and how exactly did you get yourself impaled!?"

"Hear, hear!" Sothis agreed

"I put myself between the enemy and my healer." Jeralt paused, then groaned, resting his forehead in one broad palm to press finger and thumb against his temples.

"Well I can't exactly fault you for that. Let's back up to the beginning, what were the pair of you doing there in the first place?"

"Manuela and Raoul-"

"Stop." Jeralt interjected immediately, opening his hand "Skip past anything that involves "Manuela and Raoul" I don't need to hear it."

Byleth nodded slowly and thought forward a bit to a point she could pick the story up from "It was late –last night?" She asked, confused; her Sothis-gifted sense of time told her it must be longer than that, but she couldn't figure out how.

"You've were attacked yesterday morning, Kid." Jeralt informed her "You've been asleep over a day."

"Oh." She nodded, that matched with what that feeling was telling her "The night before last then. I decided Manuela needed an escort back to the infirmary because she was…"

"Three sheets to the wind?" Jeralt offered

"Completely rudderless." Byleth agreed, bringing the first hint of a smile to her father "On the way she picked up a mask from the ground but otherwise she let me lead her back. It was late enough and she was so badly off that I napped in that chair and made her your cure-all in the morning." She added, nodding to the chair Jeralt himself had haunted for the past day "She said she'd take me for breakfast, but first she was just going to drop the mask off for Professor Jeritza. He wasn't in, so she left the mask on the desk when the wall opened and… there he was."

"And there he was" Jeralt sighed, sitting back down in the chair "You're telling me it was just rotten luck?"

Byleth nodded "Is Manuela…?"

"Fit as a fiddle. So is Flayn by the way, we found her down there, along with another. And don't think for a moment that you've weaselled your way out of explaining that wound to me."

Byleth ducked her head sheepishly and Jeralt's eyes narrowed in on her. She'd been slightly more open with her emotions of late, since taking over the company, but he hadn't seen her sheepish for many years; she had grown into competence so early even he forgot she'd made mistakes while learning, that for all her stoicism she hadn't always been the Ashen Demon.

"I flinched."

"You flinched?" he asked with incredulity "What in creation made you flinch?"

"I thought it would be best to summon back-up, so I told Manuela to scream… I didn't expect her to be so –loud." Jeralt blinked as that processed

"You didn't expect a renowned opera singer to be loud?"

Byleth shrugged one shoulder "I'd never heard one before."

"You've never-" he groaned and rested his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his palms "No, of course you haven't, we'd never stuck in one place long enough." He chuckled grimly and dragged his hands down until he could look at her again over the tips of his fingers "I may have been a bit slack in your general education, Kid."

"How many mercenaries need to know about the opera?"

"Not many" Jeralt allowed, slumping back "Just you and your ridiculous luck." He sighed and leaned forward again to put a hand on her shoulder "Alright, Kid, you know the drill. Follow the good Doctor's orders and once I'm back-" the infirmary door opened

"Pardon the intrusion."

Jeralt's hand clenched painfully on her shoulder and she braced under his sudden intensity. Two people approached the end of her bed; one was Seteth who inclined his head to her when their eyes met, the other was a woman she'd not seen before, though judging by her vestments she was someone of authority in the church.

"Ah, you're awake, Miss Eisner. Byleth, was it not? I am Rhea, the Archbishop. I am pleased to make your acquaintance at last."

Jeralt's hand trailed from her shoulder to a more natural resting place at her elbow, blunt nails scoring a fierce path down the back of her arm as they went. Byleth had a sudden awareness that she was not in her armour. The Archbishop smiled serenely. Her Father's eyes were inscrutable.

"A pleasure."

Seteth stepped forward "I owe you –both of you- a debt of gratitude. Without your actions we might never have recovered Flayn. Please; if there is ever anything I might do for you, you need only name it."

"Your arrival was clearly a blessing from the Goddess, I pray she grants you a swift healing." Rhea added

"What sort of Goddess would have sent you as a blessing?" Sothis scoffed, clearly still upset with her and annoyed that Jeralt appeared to have let off the chastisement easily.

Sothis's mood fed her own trepidation, and with her father's nails still digging into her skin, Byleth had no difficulty keeping her face the absolute mask of the Ashen Demon, even as she replied.

"Thank you –both."

"We won't take up your time when you should be resting" Seteth continued "But, Jeralt, if I may have a word before you depart?"

"Of course, I'll be right out." The Captain replied, effectively dismissing them all from the room. Seteth nodded and strode out, but Rhea lingered a moment more, her eyes roving over Byleth's face before she too, inclined her head and glided from the room, a pleased smile gracing her mouth.

Her Father's hand ran up and down her arm as though in apology and he picked up where he'd left off "When I'm back we'll talk more. Listen to Manuela and stay out of trouble." Byleth nodded sharply, mouth a tight line and Jeralt made his way to the door, pausing on the threshold to glance back at her before he left;

"Keep your guard up, Kid, and if you can manage it; give the Archbishop a wide berth."

"So," Sothis mused, dropping her frustration in favour of intrigue as he left "It was not the monastery he was wary of, but that woman, Rhea."

Although why that might be neither of them could guess.

~o~*~o~

Manuela informed Byleth that she was being kept in for "observation" for a few days due to the nature of the weapon that had harmed her. It had defied the traditional method of magical healing at first, but once she'd gotten a handle on it, the wounds had healed almost too cleanly. There was barely even a scar and Manuela wanted to be sure the internal injuries had healed as seamlessly –and remained healed- and that she hadn't picked up any infections before the doctor released her back to the barracks with instructions to take it easy for a week or two beyond that.

In the meanwhile, Byleth was beginning to get bored. Sanderson had turned up with the ledgers and complaints (How dare the Ashen Demon almost die somewhere as unromantic as a stairwell –even a secret one- and stick him with something as mundane as bookkeeping) but it'd taken less than an hour to sort through those, with her having done much of the work already. Later, Edelgard had turned up with tea, and that had been…

Actually that had been pleasant, overall.

The Imperial Princess continued to give off that impression that she was constantly evaluating her; even when Edelgard was notionally apologising for not noticing that her professor had been moonlighting as a creature out of children's nightmares.

The dire tone of the conversation was somewhat alleviated by the sweet cakes from Enbarr and the tea was exquisite even to Byleth's untrained palette, and, once they'd moved past that awkward moment, Edelgard had shown her refinement and kept the conversation light and charming, choosing topics Byleth was able to weigh in on. It was a surprisingly comfortable half-hour, so she'd agreed when the princess suggested they might do it again sometime -even if it was only politesse.

Manuela came and went several times, dropping one stack of lesson plans down to exchange for another as she switched between her own class and the Black Eagles, occasionally stopping to check the mercenary's pulse and temperature, admonish her to drink more to keep hydrated and run a magical diagnostic over her internal wounds. When she had finished for the day, she brought in a dinner she had cooked herself -likely better than Byleth expected most infirmary patients were treated to.

"Is there anything I can do while I'm here, Manuela? I don't like to be so idle." She asked, as they moved from the main course to desert

"Oh, dear, I have neglected you. I suppose these four walls must lose interest quickly without company around to liven things up, but with Jeritza gone Hanneman and I are pulling double duty for the rest of the moon… Well. I'm confident enough that a trip to the library and back won't hurt you. You don't need to stay completely bed-bound. Just go easy, and if anything feels off come back immediately."

Byleth thanked her, and once they were done with dinner (Manuela was an excellent conversationalist, and they had lingered over desert. Sothis commented that she was finally becoming sociable herself as the conversation went on; first it had been Edelgard, now the doctor.) and Manuela took their dishes away, the mercenary eased herself out of bed and paced the room a little to loosen up, feeling the slight stretching of newly-healed skin and muscle, before folding a blanket to pull around her shoulders like a shawl and padding her way barefoot to the library.

The lights were dimmed when she entered –the room only lit by a few sets of candelabrum on the desks at the centre, the wall-brackets and chandeliers all extinguished. An old man was moving a small stack of books from one table to the nearby shelf and greeted her as she entered.

"Hello there, Miss, can I help you? You've come at just the right moment; I'd have left in another minute."

"I'm sorry to trouble you."

"Oh, not at all. You must be Manuela's latest patient, the Captain's daughter. I am Tomas, the librarian here at Garreg Mach. I imagine you must be looking for something to occupy yourself with while convalescing?"

"Just so." Byleth agreed stepping further into the light "Do you have any recommendations?"

"I recommend everything, of course, but for you in particular… Well, a woman of your reputation hardly needs a refresher on tactics. The Traveller's Journal might interest you, or if you're after something lighter we do have a collection of chivalric romances."

"The Journal, I think." Byleth answered, rightly assuming she'd get all the 'light' entertainment she could possibly require from Manuela's gossip. Tomas beckoned her forward and lifted a sizable tome from the collection still on the desk. Their hands brushed as he handed it to her.

On the throne in the space between their souls, Sothis sat up straight in alarm, hands gripping the cold edge of each armrest.

Byleth sent her a querying thought, but the girl would not or could not answer, returning only a feeling of alertness, of something being wrong.

"Feel free to look around, of course." Tomas continued "Up on the mezzanine you'll find most of the books of tactics and the student guide books, some almanacs, maps and histories as well. Across the room there that entire wall is dedicated to the texts of the Seiros faith. This side covers a little of everything; fiction, travel, magic, fishing and so on. At the back there are the rest of the histories and the gynaecological lists for the noble houses. Informative, but not particularly interesting, despite what Master Riegan seems to think." This last was added in a voice pitched to carry and another voice answered from above;

"If it's restricted, then that makes it interesting. Why keep editions students aren't allowed to read at all?"

Byleth stepped back a pace or two to look up. Sure enough, Claude was sitting perched precariously on the bannister of the mezzanine above, book held open and angled over the central space so he could peruse it in the limited light of the candelabrums. Sothis was still tense within and Byleth felt a wave of consternation with herself –why had she not scanned the space on entering? How had she missed a second presence? Jeralt would not be happy with her just now. Those thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind for later reflection, however, as Claude caught her eye and winked finger held to his lips to call for her silence. Setting his book aside he leaned back until he was hanging from the railing by his knees, capelet falling from his shoulder to halo his head.

"Because the Monastery does not revolve solely around the Officer's Academy for one" Tomas replied, joining her "and –Claude von Riegan! I have told you a hundred times not to do that! I give up, if you fall then on your own head be it."

"Literally." Claude quipped back and Tomas heaved a sigh that spoke of long suffering.

"And with that, I am going to take my aching bones off to bed. If you're going to stay, do try not to burn all the candles down this time, Claude."

"I'll do my best, Tomas."

The old librarian bid them goodnight and shuffled off. Claude gripped the bottom of the rails nearest his head and flipped himself over, hanging suspended for a moment before dropping to the floor in a light crouch. He stood easily and turned to face her, as if this was a perfectly normal way of traversing the library. There was something so casually ridiculous about his antics that was charming, and Byleth almost smiled despite herself. Almost.

"I'm glad to see you up and about again. I was pretty worried when I saw you being carried off to the infirmary. Although I can't imagine anyone else would have come through much better one-on-one or even two-on-one against the Death Knight."

"Have you fought him before?" She asked, head tipped to one side just ever so slightly

"Me? No. When the Holy Mausoleum was under attack I took one look at that guy and told everyone to steer clear. I got as far as I could and kept going."

"He's a strong opponent. I should have had the terrain advantage when I engaged, and he even survived my Father. You made a good call."

"You don't think it was cowardly?" The question came too quickly, as though he'd faced the accusation before or was trying to trick her into admitting that that was her true thought. Their meeting at Remire village came to mind; the "first to make a strategic retreat" wasn't it?

"Knowing when to retreat is as important as knowing when to advance. 'He who fights and runs away may turn and fight another day'."

Something she couldn't identify sparked in the archer's eyes "'But he who is in battle slain may never rise to fight again'. Right? Not every opponent can be overcome by just throwing everything you have at them."

"But 'he who hesitates is lost'." Byleth continued "They're both right, as they're both wrong, depending on the battle. So long as you make the choice rationally, and are prepared to face whatever outcome, I wouldn't call it cowardly."

"Is this flirting? Are battle philosophes your idea of flirting? I am glad that you are opening up but this is not how one goes about courting." Sothis teased, reclining once more, her earlier tension dissipating into humour. Byleth ignored her.

The "something" in Claude's eyes was now certainly challenge and a smile that she thought could almost be real quirked his lips "Ah, but the decision has to be 'rational' does it? Do you never just go with your instincts?"

"All the time," she admitted gracefully "you should know as well as I do that you don't always think so much as react in battle. Perhaps it isn't as easy to quantify as I suggested, but I hope I never confuse prudence with cowardice."

"Prudence, huh" he mused, hands laced behind his head "I like the sound of that. I suppose it would be prudent of me to put the last of these candles out and get some sleep, unless you need a moment more?"

She glanced down at the tome in her arms "I think this will do for now, thank you, Claude."

His head snapped round from where he'd been focused on pinching out the nearest candelabrum "Hey, you dropped the title! Finally warming up to me, huh?"

"You… asked me to? And you're not presently my employer." She explained

"Ah, I guess I should have known you wouldn't drop the courtesies on the job. Okay, I can live with that." He replied, picking up the last candle to light their way out, ushering her ahead. "It would be my pleasure, Byleth, to escort you on the long and perilous journey back to the infirmary."

"Because you have to go that way anyway."

"Hey now, don't sell yourself short, Milady Mercenary." He winked at her "Although, I confess, it's not the least self-serving thing I've ever done."

"What would that be?"

"Oh, I was caught in an absolutely vicious cycle of charity the other day. I swear, your virtue increases just by proximity to Raphael –I introduced you before, the big guy? Give it 'till the end of the year and he'll have me in the running for sainthood."

It was difficult to tell in the candlelight, as they paused by the infirmary door to take leave of each other, but Claude was almost sure that there was something suspiciously resembling a smile on her lips as she laid her hand on the handle and turned to him "I wish him well, so long as the influence doesn't run the other way."

"Ouch, I do have virtues of my own you know. For instance, instead of spending the night pointing them all out to you, I'm going to bid you a goodnight and leave you to recuperate. Which is really rather gallant and chivalrous of me, don't you think?"

"Very much." She agreed, just the faintest hint of that smile in her voice "Goodnight, Claude."

"Goodnight, Byleth. Rest well."