Hi readers,
I received a very reasonable request to update here when I was ready to start posting the sequel, as I write this it is Wednesday 18th November 2020, and I intend to post the first chapter of said sequel, General, tomorrow, Thursday 19th.

However, I despise posting author's notes with no content, so you also get a brief look at some of the events during the timeskip! Yay!

For any other updates you can find me on Ao3 as Maddy02 or twitter as Maddyohtwo, stay safe and be kind to yourselves.

Taking up the Torch
Or: Two Funerals and a Coronation

1181
Great Tree Moon

"You owe me a letter, Boy." Oswald announced from his desk without looking up as Claude entered the room.

"Hey, Granddad" Claude replied "the journey wasn't too bad -thanks for asking- and I've left the Golden Deer house in capable hands, so alls well there. Lorenz made a particular point to send you his regards."

"Come now, Boy. Out with it."

"Out with what?"

"Whatever it is you've been putting off. Whatever you've convinced yourself it'd be better to "tell me in person". I assume the Accords are all signed and sealed?"

"I have your copy with me."

"Then, what have you been keeping back?"

Claude was silent.

Oswald put his quill aside and looked up at last. Claude looked as unsure as Oswald had ever seen him, and he'd seen him at the tender age of sixteen arriving in Fódlan for the first time.

"Well… you heard about the attack on the Monastery just before graduation?" Claude hedged at last

"Yes." Oswald agreed, steepling his fingers and resting his elbows on the desk.

"During the, ah, confrontation, my… heritage was revealed. To the Emperor… and the Crown Prince…" Oswald raised a snowy brow in an arch look as Claude continued "and Hilda Goneril…. … and perhaps fifty assorted troops…"

"I see," Oswald said calmly, leaning back in his chair, interlaced hands resting across his stomach, thumbs idling over his waistcoat pockets "and what do you intend to make of it?"

Claude started, then paused, beginning again; "Make of it?"

Oswald harrumphed, a cunning gleam in his eye "Let me give you this one lesson as the academy appears to have failed at teaching it. Whatever it is you think the word "disaster" means, it does not. It means "opportunity". So. Again; what do you intend to make of it?"

Claude was quiet for a long moment before a slow smile began to light his face.

"Trade. If everyone knows about my connections already, then we may as well use them. Lets open the Locket and start trading." He said, striding towards the desk and pulling a map Oswald kept to hand across it in front of them. Oswald sat back and watched him gesticulate his points, working through the first draft of a plan aloud with gathering confidence.

Well. It vaguely resembled a plan in any case. It seemed Oswald still had some work to do with the boy's political acumen before he was ready to fully step up and lead the Dukedom. Lesson one would be bargaining from a position of weakness, it seemed.

~o~*~o~

1181
Garland Moon

Inevitably, the Head of the Imperial Household already knew of, or very soon discovered everything that occurred within the palace. If a chambermaid had ever misplaced a pillowcase, he had a report on it. If the head gardener and cook were at war over the herb garden once again then he was informed of it. If the under-butler had suddenly come into money after the silverware went missing then Hubert was very aware of it.

Nothing that might impact the Emperor went unnoticed by House Vestra.

But when his agent entered his office without knocking that day, Hubert knew there was only one thing that could have brought him. He stood immediately and made his way towards the royal wing.

The servants, those he saw in any case, were already subdued, scurrying quickly to their tasks. Black bombazine being thrown up over pictures and banners as the palace went into mourning.

Hubert came to Ionius's door and waited respectfully. The old Emperor had held on longer than they had expected, living to see one more of his daughter's birthdays before fading.

It was not long before Edelgard emerged from the room, the brief opening of the door enough to let him hear the wailing and lamenting of the other women in the household.

Edelgard stepped to the side and folded her hands behind her, leaning back against the wall. She had only to give him a look and Hubert had stepped forwards to put an arm about her shoulders, pulling her firmly against him.

The Emperor was silent for long minutes, staring fixedly at the wall opposite.

"I think… perhaps the worst thing they did was to take my tears from me." She admitted at last.

Hubert was not made for condoling, so he said nothing, but remained there at her side so Edelgard could draw whatever comfort there was to glean from his presence.

~o~*~o~

Dimitri's letter was long and heartfelt. Claude's was shorter and more practical than empathetic, but she appreciated that.

It helped her with justifying how she was acting during a time of mourning. The face she was showing the world.

The world didn't need to know that the "brave face" ran straight to the bone. That she had quashed the instinct to cry so thoroughly that she could not summon a tear even for her Father's passing.

Byleth did not send a letter, she arrived in person for the funeral. Regardless of what "holy" revelations Edelgard may have been a witness to, her father had not. There was no prayer to be accepted into a Blue Star, but Byleth seemed happy enough to drink the toast and cast her brand into the fire. Perhaps the Goddess had not been one for long ceremonies either.

Perhaps funeral rites a full week after the death had no impact on whatever came next.

"All tears dry." Byleth told her, much later when the smoke had been washed away. Edelgard hadn't needed to eke the time out of her schedule, Hubert had seen to that, but she still regretted that she could not simply invite a friend to tea as she had at the Academy. "On the surface at least. I may be… still learning the depths of my emotions, but I don't doubt that you feel the same ache."

"Do I? We took opposing paths, you and I. You learned to be open where I learned to quash. To bury the girl who felt in the past. I have no use for such things as grief and remorse."

"Were that girl buried you would not be so fierce in your determination to change the world." Byleth answered, shaking her head "Your path and your grief are the same thing."

"That sounds almost poetic. Grief to pave my way and not to cloud my mind."

Byleth tipped her head in acknowledgement, taking a long draught of her tea before continuing "Sometimes I can hold my feelings apart from myself and sometimes all I can think is that it's been a hundred and eighty-six days, eleven hours and three minutes since my father died. If I were to ask-"

"Yes." Edelgard answered, cutting her off "Every one of them, perhaps not to the minute, but yes."

Byleth nodded "All tears dry." She repeated "But I do not doubt your heart."

~o~*~o~

1181
Verdant Rain Moon

My Friend,

If I thought you would accept them, I would offer congratulations for the victory at Rhodos. Though if the reports that have reached me are accurate I doubt you'll be satisfied with the outcome- nor Seteth for that matter. I expect you wouldn't accept apologies for the part Leicester troops must have inevitably played in the fiasco either, so instead I write with an offer;

Come to Derdriu.

Of course, I'm certain that you already have several schemes for improvement in mind, but equally I'm sure that a short break, with distance and perspective, will be beneficial to shoring them up. Included in this already tantalising (as I am sure you will agree,) offer is unrestricted access to the finest mind in the Alliance. Naturally I speak of my Grandfather. Since he passed all the not-fun duties of the Dukedom to me (and only the boring duties, I'm not even allowed to suggest a feast at present) he has nothing better to do on any non-festival day than sit and pass unerringly accurate judgement and advice to those of less sagacity -which is to say; everyone. I'd consider it a great favour if you'd give him another target than my fawn-like, stumbling attempts to lead in his place.

Even if you only intend to add your own criticisms to his, the offer is always open.

Whatever the circumstances, I'll be glad to see you.

Yours,
Claude von Riegan
Acting Duke of the Alliance of Leicester, Keeper of the Harbour of Derdriu & etc, etc

—don't expect me to put the full title down ever again, my Friend, even when I own it completely. Does it look as pretentious to you as it does to me?

~o~*~o~

1181
Red Wolf Moon

Byleth leant back against the entry to the statue room just off the cathedral. Ostensibly she was guarding it, but at present her eye was drawn by Dimitri pacing between the statues of the Saints.

"Are you nervous?" She asked, somewhere around his fortieth lap.

"Not precisely," he answered, coming to a halt near her "It's more that… I am aware of the significance of the occasion." He chuckled "I'll be the first King since Loog not to be crowned in Fhirdiad, the first to be crowned by the acting Archbishop instead of the Archbishop, the first to have both the Emperor and the leader of the Alliance present and- well and so on. Yet, all I must do is kneel, swear an oath I've known by heart since I can remember and that will be it. It feels like there should be some grand challenge. Some trial or obstacle, some disaster to overcome. Instead I must just wait."

He looked up and discovered that Byleth was wearing her neutral façade. The mask that these days he rarely saw outside of battle or the war-room. Her eyes did not meet his either, lingering off to the side.

"What is it?"

"What is what?" She asked in reply.

"What are you hiding from me?" He returned, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at her.

"Hiding from you?"

"You're almost as bad at lying as I am, Commander."

Byleth sighed, crossing her own arms and cupping each elbow "There may have been… a minor issue with the Regent."

"My Uncle?" Dimitri asked, with rising trepidation. "What has happened?"

"It seems that last night Lord Rufus was rather… excessive, in his indulgences and was still feeling the effects of it this morning."

"That is nothing unusual. I'm sure Professor Manuela would soon have him on his feet again."

"Ye-es," Byleth agreed, drawing the syllable out a little "however, Manuela was somewhat occupied with a number of students in the infirmary, so when his Lordship called for aid, Marianne volunteered to go."

"Oh Sweet Goddess." Dimitri swore, as he quickly grasped the likely outcome of any interaction between shy, pretty, Marianne and his Uncle, the worst philanderer in the Kingdom "Is she alright? What did he say to her? Is she-"

"A little flustered and discomposed but unharmed." Byleth interrupted. "When I caught up to her, Hilda and Dorothea had taken charge of rallying her. Dorothea was giving a very interesting demonstration on how to carry your weight through a kick that-"

"Please, I can imagine." Dimitri took his turn to interrupt her, shifting uncomfortably. "What else?"

"Lord Rodrigue, Dedue and I took charge of getting the Regent to the infirmary. I offered a draught of an old Eisner cure-all on the way which he took. Then Manuela administered a dose of her own. Normally this would be no issue, except… well it turns out Lord Rufus spent a lot of the evening in company with Balthus, who had access to a couple of Claude's remedies also. It takes a while for Claude's to fully kick in, which Balthus knew, but didn't explain properly to the Regent… He'd called for aid almost immediately after taking it and not being satisfied with the results…"

"I dread where this is going. Please…"

"To put it shortly, the three remedies mix a little too well and you owe Manuela some new shoes. Fancy ones. You might be well served sending a gift basket to the laundresses as well."

Dimitri buried his face in his hands with a groan "Is that the end of it?"

"Just about. There was a slight mishap with the crown disappearing as well," She continued, blithely ignoring how Dimitri's head snapped up as she poked her head out of the room to gauge the goings on in the Cathedral proper, before facing him once more "which Ingrid and Felix were investigating, but it seems that has been resolved. They're ready for you now, your Highness." She concluded, just as there was a flourish of music and Dedue stepped into the room to flank Dimitri's right as Byleth took her place on the left.

"You-" he protested, cutting himself off and taking a breath to regain his bearings as he was met by Byleth's raised eyebrow and slight smile "I'll have you know that the time for such stories is not-"

"When your friend is wearing a trench into a marble floor?" Byleth countered before he could finish the argument.

Dimitri was cut off again. This time he huffed a chuckle, then a full on laugh, before turning and squaring his shoulders, marching out to take his place in the Blaiddyd succession.

~o~*~o~

1181
Ethereal Moon

From a balcony in the palace of Fhirdiad, there was an impressive view of the city. Intricate ice statues lined the streets, casting rainbows from torchlight onto every surface around them. Children skated across a plaza that had been flooded and frozen for their enjoyment, or scurried home with sweetbreads, warm and fresh from the baker's oven, clutched in hand. Music spilled out across the city as doors briefly opened and closed. Candles lined each window and pristine snow the eaves. The whole city glowed. In the freezing stillness even the air shimmered.

Despite all this, Byleth's eyes turned northward, where an aurora glimmered in the distant skies.

"It's there all year, I understand." Her host had told her "But as we only see the stars at night so we only see the aurora in the Ethereal Moon. I had it explained to me once, although I'm afraid I recall little but it being to do with ley lines and the flow of anima through the world. It's been more common in recent years too."

Tonight her gaze was fixed in that direction, even as Dimitri joined her on the balcony, his gloved hands coming to rest on the balustrade next to her mittens.

"Well, General Eisner," he began, "much as I regret it, your time here is at an end. Tell me, will you stand by your words?"

"If you recall, they were not strictly my words." Byleth answered, looking at him from the corner of an eye with a slight smile beginning to ease her expression. "But no. I do not dare claim that no-one of sense would step foot in Faerghus during the winter. I'll say instead that the capital is beautiful, the people warm and her King throws a celebration Sothis herself would be pleased to attend."

Dimitri blushed "That is too much praise."

Byleth shook her head with a laugh, the fur-lined edge of her hood slipping from her head as she did "I assure you it is too little!"

Dimitri smiled as she fixed the hood, relaxing into the silence around her. A long moment passed before he spoke next "A new report arrived this afternoon. Lady Rhea has concluded her conference with Saint Macuil and is on her way back."

"To Garreg Mach?"

"No, Lake Teutates. Apparently Saint Indech can be found there. We're still investigating the Western Church following the attack at Rhodos, and Lonato's rebellion last year, so I'll be sending troops to help guard her for the time being. I expect she'll wish to see you."

Byleth sighed "Likely, yes. However, construction of the Coalition base will be finishing soon. If Rhea wishes to discuss spiritual matters with me and not military ones she'll just have to wait."

"You have no intention of helping her?"

"I would consider keeping well clear of the matter to be the most helpful thing I can do. I am no Oracle or Prophet."

"That may be just the sort of perspective that is required- No, peace, I'll push no further, except ask you to consider this;" Dimitri spoke quickly when it looked like Byleth would argue again "for you perhaps it isn't a matter of faith. The Goddess was your friend. If anything is done in her name… don't you wish to know that it is as she would want it?"

"No." Byleth answered clearly. "Sothis made it very clear that our mortal lives are our own, not for her to dictate, to keep to any plan of hers. The only promise I made her was to cut a path of my own, and I will keep that path out of ecclesiastic matters for as long as I can. What honour I pay her will not be through doctrine."

"Cut a path…" Dimitri mused. "That sounds very like a tradition we have here. As they begin to come of age children are given a blade, a "tool of destiny" to cut a path to a better future. I wonder if that started with the Goddess…"

Byleth was silent and Dimitri looked over to her. As he did her expression crumpled from one of surprise to sadness; her hand pressed against her heavy cloak to where her dagger was no doubt sheathed at her waist. Dimitri could have kicked himself.

It was one year and three days (eight hours hours, twenty-three minutes and forty-nine seconds) since Captain Jeralt, son of Faerghus, was slain.

~o~*~o~

1182
Harpstring Moon

"Well, Boy, are you ready to do without me?"

Claude only hesitated a moment as he took his seat at his Grandfather's bedside "What nonsense is this, Grandfather? You've got years left in you."

Oswald snorted "Pish, Boy, let's not start bandying falsehoods with each other now. I can feel it stealing up on me. I'll be with the Goddess before the dawn."

"You'll like her." Claude answered "No-nonsense, but kind."

"Ha! Yes, and I'll find out the truth about this revelation of yours."

Claude placed a hand over his heart, directing a pout at the old man "What, you didn't take my word as gospel?"

"Yours, no. But with the Emperor, the King, the Archbishop and the General all giving the same tale I suppose there must be some truth behind it. I'll just have to find out whatever you've left out for myself."

Claude idly traced one of the embroidered patches on his Grandfather's bedspread as the seriousness of the moment finally caught up to him "I've not kept much of anything from you these last years, Granddad. I've needed your council too much to-"

Oswald laughed until it turned into a hacking cough and took several shaky breaths to regain his bearings, wiping a tear from his eye "Needed my council? Boy, you've been running rings around them since your first day at the table. No, no, I should thank you for deigning to listen to a relic of the past."

"Granddad- Granddad, if you hadn't agreed- if you hadn't started this, I don't know how I'd ever have gotten the motion-"

"You'd have found a way, I've no doubt of that. Mayhap I've saved you a year, mayhap I've cost you one, Gloucester would draw this out just to spite me even if he didn't have some legitimate points."

"Just a few."

"Well, even a stopped clock is right twice a day."

They grinned at each other and Oswald lay back against his pillows, reaching forward to pat Claude's hand. "There now, indulge me one last time and listen well, Khalid,"

Claude froze. Oswald had never used that name. Not even since they seriously started working towards a trade agreement with Almyra. He hadn't even been entirely sure the old man knew it.

"Thirty years ago, or close enough, I had this same opportunity. I was too timid, too distracted preparing Godfrey to take over, too easily persuaded by Goneril to defer discussions, too busy sniping with Edmund, too focused on other matters, whatever it was, and I missed the chance. Lost the deal. Lost your Mother for it as well. You may be in danger of going too far the other way. If you keep one eye fixed always on the East you might find yourself missing an opening closer to home. Remember to step back occasionally."

"I- I will- Grandfather-"

"Enough of that." The old Duke chided "I think I'm going to nap a while, don't send me off with that frowning face." Claude took a breath and forced a tremulous smile onto his lips. Oswald nodded "There we go. You get that charm from me you know." He added, as his eyes drifted shut.

"I think Mama might have something to say about that." Claude managed without his voice breaking.

"Ha! Yes, I think she just might. Give her my love, when you next see her, Khalid."

Claude nodded, even though his grandfather had already drifted off. He kept hold of the old man's hand as his breathing slowed, and kept holding it through all the minute-long eternities until...

…until his breath drew still.