A/N: Thank you once again to all who reviewed and watched this story. It really means a lot to me!

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After finishing her meal and helping with any final clean up, Daedra decided to use the remaining time before the night grew too late to make amends with her fellow Shepherds. She originally had planned to first seek out Lissa for a low-down on the outcome of the incident earlier. Though, Daedra was starting to see that avoiding issues, even seemingly insignificant ones were proving to be disastrous for her. Besides, if she could help fix any problems that may have stemmed up from her inability to speak up earlier, then she would do so. As she wandered her way about, the tactician had a feeling no ill will clung to anyone from any of the harsh words spoken earlier. Everyone she came across seemed perfectly relaxed and back to their old selves. For one, she noticed Sully casually speaking with Ricken and Donnel. The two younger boys were laughing, most likely at a joke or remark the red cavalier had made. When she approached and apologized for the fight at dinner, all three were confused. To Daedra's surprised, all three of them had forgotten she had even been there. When they explained about Chrom's intervention, Sully in particular, told her not to fret over the issue. Everyone was stressed and it was behind them now so they could 'kick butt' come tomorrow. As she bed the three farewell, the tactician still wasn't convinced, so she went off to continue her rounds.

As with Sully, Ricken, and Donnel, most of the other Shepherds who were involved in the light verbal brawl earlier barely connected Daedra with the incident. Vaike merely laughed and gave her a reassuring hit on her shoulder [that almost sent her toppling] and Stahl just smiled as he remarked that he 'was glad things had turned out as they did'. Lissa was back to her cheery bubbly self as she laughed over the whole incident as well. Maribelle snorted with a remark about her and Lissa having to be involved, but she overall didn't blame Daedra. The tactician just assumed the sharp tongue was a usual Maribelle trait and didn't take it too personally. When she came across Virion, he had actually remembered her being there, rather vividly in fact, though again, no blame was placed. Instead he spent at least twenty minutes showering fancy words and phrases upon her that she didn't quite understand and offered to entertain her with tea and a strategy game. While the game did sound fun, Daedra politely declined, mentioning she had a few more things to see to before bedtime. Virion gave a dramatic wilt but instantly spun into a dashing smile when Daedra promised him a game when she found some time tomorrow. With another goodnight said, Daedra decided she had one more person to see: Frederick. Though Chrom had broken up the argument at dinner, he had arrived well after she had retreated and Daedra didn't see a point to remind him of the incident. Though, she told herself that if she happened to come across him in her wanderings that night, she would at least say something. That only left her business with the knight. From what she remembered, Frederick had seemed furious… namely at her. She gulped lightly from the memory of his eyes locking with hers with such accusation. She still had no idea what she was doing to make him so angry with her all the time…

Well… aside from being a coward towards him….

And, a terrible fighter…

And, a bit weepy.

Pausing, the small tactician sighed sadly and rubbed her eyes, already feeling the prickle of tears at her own analysis. She had a feeling things were going to end terribly and debated about letting Frederick sleep on the incident. Perhaps a night's sleep would soften him slightly… but she immediately shook that thought from her mind. If Frederick were truly capable of being softened up, he would have eased up on her by now, but in truth, he only seemed to dislike her with every passing day. Thinking back to what Kellam told her earlier, she vowed to at least try to follow his advice. She'd make sure to speak with Frederick tonight. That seemed like a reasonable start.

But as usual, her goal seemed more difficult than it should have been. The knight, who normally was in the middle of everything concerning the Shepherds, was nowhere to be found this particular evening. Daedra had circled about at least 4 times and hadn't seen hair nor armor plate of him. This was rather unusual since Frederick was always one of the last Shepherds to retire every evening. He always had a final preparation to make or just needed a final patrol for his ease of mind, but tonight he was anywhere but. Not wanting to give up so easily, Daedra decided to ask about before the hour grew even later. After all, there was just a chance she merely kept missing him and he would soon go to bed. As she passed by her fellow Shepherds again, she questioned them on the knight's whereabouts. Everyone she asked was surprised to see her still running about but was also clueless on Frederick's location. When she asked Sully, she suggested checking the weapon storage. When she came across Stahl, he suggested the larder. Vaike, Ricken, and Donnel all gave their own ideas but all ended the same: no Frederick. Kellam was still patrolling for the evening and when Daedra managed to catch up which him [which was a bit challenging in the dark] she thought maybe Frederick was with him. Sadly, the larger knight was also curious of Frederick's disappearance. Daedra had tried to ask Miriel, but the red haired mage was so absorbed in her book that she didn't even register the tactician. Daedra was pretty sure Miriel wouldn't have known anyway if she were that distracted with her reading. When she came to Maribelle and Lissa again, the Ylissian princess suggested Daedra not worry about it, at least until morning. With the hour growing even later, Daedra gave a defeated sigh as she conceded defeat, making her way back to her own quarters. Clearly, Frederick was in a mood to avoid her that evening, and probably the rest of the war for that matter. Still, Daedra had to wonder what could keep the knight so occupied that no one was able to track him.

As the small atctician made her way to her own sleeping quarters, it was as if the gods were teasing her. Daedra had stumbled across Frederick on her way to giving up for the evening. When she passed the weapon storage, she was surprised to hear the sound of metal clanks from within. That was unusual, she thought, considering it had been rather dark and abandoned all evening, but there was now movement and light inside. Taking a small detour, Daedra went to investigate. To her surprise, Frederick was near by, seated upon a small stool as he set about sharpening his lance and any other weapons he deemed in need of attention. From the look of things, the tactician assumed Frederick had a long night ahead of himself from the collection oh weaponry he had lined around him. Smiling, she decided to take advantage of her luck, but it soon fell from her lips and her happy walk turned to tentative steps when she caught the knight's expression. His brow was furrowed with a stern frown on his lips as his eyes were focused on the weapon he sharpened in his hands. His actions were stiff and tense as he worked at a hurried pace. It didn't take much else to let Daedra see that something was on the knight's mind, and it clearly wasn't pleasant.

Halting her steps, Daedra watched him quietly for a few moments, nervously twirling some of the dark red hair that fell over her right shoulder. He looked to be in a terribly foul mood, she thought. Most likely from the fighting earlier, but… when Daedra thought on it, Frederick didn't seem the type to be thrown off by such an incident. At least, to her, Frederick seemed the type of man to bounce himself back right away by his own means. She honestly was expecting him to be rushing about to try and catch up for his lack of activity that evening, but watching him busy himself with weapons….he seemed almost pouty …. angry pouty. If she had to guess, his thoughts were not truly on his task. If that were true, she was probably the last person he wanted to see. She stood and silently debated on turning herself around and leaving. Frederick was too absorbed at the moment to really notice her yet. She could just wait till morning to speak with him…. yet, she shook the thought from her head. No, she was going to be brave and stop running from things she got herself into. Kellam was right, if she wanted to prove herself, this is what she had to do!

Mustering some courage, Daedra swallowed the lump in her throat as she approached the knight. She stood in front of him for a moment, debating on how to proceed before she gingerly spoke up.

"Um…Fre-Frederick?"

The knight winced when he recognized her voice and paused in his task for but a moment. He never looked up to her as he began sharpening his weapon again with the same intensity as before. There was an awkward silence and Daedra thought on slowly backing away as Frederick remained quiet. Yet, after a moment, he finally spoke up with a stern, "Yes?"

The tactician jumped from the single word, her fingers fumbling with her hair. His solid voice was shattering in the silence that had settled between them. Taking a moment to calm her jitters, she quietly cleared her throat as she took a small step closer to the knight. "Um…goo-good evening. I…I was thinking about… well, what you said…earlier… about…me…running away from training. So, I… thought on it… and I was hoping…to….maybe try…and-" But, Daedra was cut abruptly short with another stern remark from the knight.

"No."

Turning to Frederick with wide eyes, she blinked in confusion. Did she hear him correctly? Before she could question him, the knight calmly put down the weapon and grinding stone in his hands. Standing from his seat, he stared down at Daedra with a terrifyingly serious gaze. The tactician was transfixed as she nervously looked up to the much taller man. It took everything in her power to not shiver under his gaze.

"Bu-but…"

"No, I had given you a chance already, and you quite blatantly showed your true colors to me. I am always willing to train others in need, but only if they truly wish to follow my instruction. The moment I offered you proper combat instruction, you retreated in a rather cowardly fashion. When I pursued, you avoided me and hid yourself for days on end. I will not waste more of my precious time and effort on one who chooses to squander it."

With each accusation, it felt as if Frederick was hammering upon Daedra's shoulders with an iron bar. She physically winced with each statement as Frederick grew harsher in his words. Scrunching her eyes, Daedra tried to contain the sting of fresh tears and will them not to spill. She couldn't blame Frederick, after all. He was correct; she had been a coward and she needed to attest to that, no matter how much it hurt. Clearly, being brave, or at least what she considered being brave, was not enough. Crying wouldn't help her situation either so she tried her best to hold it back. Her throat grew painfully tight as she tried to hold the sobs, and her breathing became hitched. Feeling moisture on her lashes, Daedra quickly lifted her sleeve to scrub it across her face. Exhaling, one choked sob managed to escape her as she finally pried her lashes apart to attempt to look up to the knight. Though it was a losing battle, Daedra was determined to meet the knight's gaze and accept his answer. As her watery vision cleared with a few blinks, the tactician was shocked when she saw Frederick staring back. His angered expression was gone, replaced with… something else. Though his face was still serious, his eyes had softened and the frown on his lips was far less severe. She didn't have time to fully analyze it before Frederick abruptly turned to leave.

"I must go. I have other things to attend to," he quickly stated as he turned and marched himself out of the storage and into the dark.

Daedra followed him with her gaze, confused about what just happened. It may have been her watery eyes, but she could have sworn Frederick almost looked a bit…guilty? Despite her 'bravery plan' ending as a disaster, the tactician knew it could have gone much worse, or so she told herself anyway. Regardless of the situation, her mind couldn't quite get over Frederick at the moment. She didn't understand him, and his sudden mood changes most of the time. He was so hard to read at times, compared to the other Shepherds who seemed as open to her as a book. Clearly her earlier hunch was correct and something else was troubling him other than recent events. But what? Perhaps it had something to do with where he had been hiding all evening…

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"Forgive me, milord! Letting the situation escalade into such chaos is utterly and truly inexcusable on my part. It shall no-"

"Yes, Frederick, I get it. You can stop apologizing, I forgave you the first fifty times you said it," Chrom said in a tired tone as he massaged his forehead in frustration. Looking across at the knight, he sighed when he noticed Frederick's sagged features. Though he still stood at attention as always, his shoulders held the slightest of dips while his forlorn expression matched that of a kicked puppy. Massaging his temple again, Chrom tried once again to get a clear answer from the man and not a slew of fluttered apologies.

"I understand, I really do, Frederick. Everyone is under a bit of pressure, and arguments happen. I just wish to know where it all came from. It won't do to have the Shepherds at war with each other as well as the Risen and the Plegians."

The knight straightened as he sobered his expression. With a nod, Frederick cleared his throat and made to explain. "Of course, my liege. I apolo-" Frederick paused when he caught sight of Chrom's expression and made to retract his upcoming apology. "Milord, this argument was no accident. I am sure of it. It is a sure sign that betrayal will be swiftly upon us. You can't deny how masterfully orchestrated it was; but this was surely just a test – a trial! I am without doubt that the tactician is-" but Frederick was cut short as Chrom suddenly interjected.

"Hold, hold, Frederick," Chrom raised his hands in a gesture to pause the knight's train of thought before he continued. "Don't tell me you blame Daedra for this. She wasn't even there," he stated as his gestures and voice began to gain edge. Surely Frederick wasn't that paranoid, he thought to himself.

"But, she was, milord! She had been there from the start, before your gracious and timely arrival! As evidence of her dastardly nature, she slipped from sight like a serpent right as the fighting grew the most heated," Frederick hurriedly explained.

"And who could blame her? I wanted to run from that mess earlier as well, but I unfortunately didn't have the opportunity."

Frederick was silent for a moment as he watched his charge. Chrom's expression was growing rather angered the longer this conversation went on. The lord crossed his arms about his chest as he looked to the knight for his response. Frederick cleared his throat and went over his thoughts before speaking. Chrom was challenging his accusation, and while Frederick normally trusted his leader without question, this time he had to intercede. With war upon them and life threatening situations thrust at them at any given notice, the knight knew he had no room for error anymore. He had to convince Chrom of his suspicions, lest all of them be placed in the worst of positions.

"Milord, she still acted in cowar-"

"Enough!"

Chrom's voice was stern and sharp as he cut Frederick off once more with a swift gesture of his arm. The knight was shocked, having rarely seen his charge act in such a manner, especially to him. While Chrom was known for being rash, he rarely focused such emotion at his own Shepherds. He was known for jumping head first to defending the weak and ill-treated, showering his rage upon those who would take advantage of such misfortunate souls. Needless to say, Frederick found himself shaken into stunned silence.

"That's enough, Frederick. I won't hear this anymore. You've always been a devoted follower of the realm and a dear friend to me and my sisters. It's honestly allowed us to put up with a lot from you. But this… I won't hear this anymore about Daedra. Not only has she been a skilled tactician for us in our time of need, but she's also been a loyal and devoted friend… to me and all my Shepherds. And as my friend, I cannot allow anyone to address her as such, even if it's from you, Frederick. I know you normally only think about what is best, but I've been listening to talk amongst the others, namely from Lissa. I think you're letting a personal grudge, whatever it may be, cloud your judgment. You've taken things too far, you've always taken things too far when it comes to your duties serving us, in fact!"

The knight had bowed his head in silence as Chrom spoke. Frederick hung on every word, his fists clenching as he held them behind his back. Raising his face to the prince, Frederick spoke with conviction. "That may be so, milord, but I only truly want what is best for the Shepherds and the Halidom. Regardless of my feelings, this is an army… and armies need capable fighters. If one is not capable…"

"Then they'll perform another needed task! There are other positions needed in an army other than warriors. I know Daedra isn't… very skilled in weapon-faire, and perhaps it's foolish to make that as an excuse. She does more than enough as our tactician! Without her, I don't think half of our troops would even still be with us. It seems selfish to ask more, but if it must be so, she can be made a cleric or some other position without weapons- I honestly don't care!" Chrom's voice grew heated as his verbal tirade continued on the knight. Frederick could only watch with a shocked expression as Chrom continued. "The fact of the matter is that this is over, Frederick. I trust Daedra fully and without question. I won't hear any more of your accusations or assumptions of her. If she truly wished to cause harm, she could have done so, more than enough times already. This discussion is finished, I've had enough for one night. Goodnight, Frederick!"

Chrom swiftly turned and took a few steps away from older man. While the knight's services and devotion meant a lot to him, he could only take so much of them, and he'd hit his limit for the evening. Frederick, meanwhile, was ashamed and disgusted with himself as he seemed frozen in place. He silently watched as Chrom slinked away, easily seeing the tension in the man's shoulders. Tension that he, himself, brought upon him. What kind of knight was he, to summon more trouble his charge, when the man already had enough burdens to deal with? Had everything he'd been doing for years….really been a burden instead of a service? Frederick stood in silence as he thought back over the years, taking note of how more often then not, Chrom and Lissa seemed frustrated instead of being relieved or gratified. Bowing his head shamefully, the knight muttered a small apology and dismissed himself, not wishing to bother the prince any more with his presence. He had a lot to dwell on this evening, it seemed. As he took his leave, the knight straightened his back and began to march himself in search of a task to complete. The weapons hold always had things to keep him occupied with. He may have botched things up that evening, but the least he could do was make himself useful elsewhere while he tried to think of what to do concerning his poor performance as of late.

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The next morning could not come any quicker for Daedra. Though, she didn't even bother to actually wait for morning. Ever since her 'talk' with Frederick the night before, Daedra had been at odds with herself. As much as she tried, she could not escape the memory of Frederick's harsh, if not justifiable, refusal. Though he didn't say it, he was deeming her a lost cause. In truth, Daedra knew she could in theory just ask another Shepherd for pointers, but it seemed pointless. Frederick seemed to have trained all the Shepherds upon their joining, and was still giving instruction to those who had been around for years even. It felt a bit awkward to get lessons from someone who was basically still receiving their own training, not to mention the lack of time that would create for both her and her new instructor. Plus, the tactician knew from observation on the field that Frederick seemed to be a warrior of all trade, so to speak. He was proficient in swordsmanship, lance work, and even knew his way with an axe. That was quite a lot for one person, considering all the other Shepherds seemed to focus on one weapon or skill, maybe only attempting another on the side. With that, Daedra would have to pinpoint to one area if she chose another Shepherd as a teacher. When she went down the list of all the styles of fighting she could take up, none seemed to click perfectly. She wasn't strong enough for heavy armor, and she seemed equally poor in all weapons. She thought vaguely about being a cavelier, but she couldn't bear the thought of hurting one of their horses with her lack of talent. The fire tome incident when she first joined was excuse enough to avoid being a mage of any sort. Truth be told, nothing seemed like an option. But, Daedra knew that if there was any hope for her to be decent at any weapon, she would have to learn from the most seasoned of the Shepherds….

Daedra let out a defeated puff of air before looking to the still darkened sky. The sun was only starting to peek out over the horizon, the touches of gold and red trying to push back the evening clouds to make room for daybreak. Her battling thoughts had kept her restless for most of the night. She'd given up trying to get more sleep when she heard a few birds begin to rouse in the nearby trees. There was little point in laying in her blankets when she could spend the time making herself useful, plus if she found a task, she could focus on that instead of her troubling thoughts. As she wandered her way about the quiet grounds, she decided to head for the larder. The best task she could come up with this early was to start on breakfast. It would keep her occupied and it was something she knew she wasn't completely awful at. Thankfully, Sully held that record. When she had arrived at the rather spacious larder of Yisstol castle, Daedra was more than surprised to see someone already there. Stepping in, the tactician looked with wide eyes over to see Maribelle struggling with something at one of the small worktables. A fire was going in the hearth to easily light the area and she spied a kettle of tea simmering away. The young noble had a rather stern and frustrated frown gracing her normally lovely features as she growled over her task. As Daedra approached, she noticed there seemed to be a silver spoon in Maribelle's grasp, as well as piles on the table and within a rather decorative wooden box set upon the table.

"What are you doing awake this early, Maribelle," the tactician asked.

The girl literally jumped in her seat, the spoon in her grasp flying to the table where it collided with the other neat piles, scattering them across the flat surface. Daedra winced at the sharp sound of the silverware all clattering together, and only shrunk back when she noticed Maribelle's sharp glare upon her. She made to open her mouth to reprimand the tactician, but at that moment a shrieking whistle cut through the larder. Quickly turning to the forgotten kettle, Maribelle flew from her seat, grabbing a rag from one of the counters and took the kettle from the fire. The steam and noise instantly began to settle as she looked about what to do with it. "Marvelous. I sit and remake the tea and he's not even hear to watch me pour it. What terrible luck." At that statement, Maribelle shot the foulest of looks over to Daedra. The tactician only smiled nervously and shrugged in an apologetic fashion. The fierce glare only lasted a moment before Maribelle released a defeated sigh, "Oh, what's the use," she sighed. Placing the kettle upon a hook, she turned it close to the fire to keep the water within warm enough to drink until she decided to make use of it.

Daedra frowned in thought as she watched Maribelle look about and return to her seat with a rather ungraceful thump. The tactician watched with curiosity as the blueblood took up a cloth and spoon and set about rubbing the textured surface over the silver. "Oh, you're polishing them," Daedra said as she approached and sat in a chair beside Maribelle as she watched the other girl work. She let out a small yawn before looking over to the small tactician. "What did you think I was doing with them," she snapped.

Daedra gulped slightly but continued to speak. "Well, it's just, I didn't think you polished them personally. You're always talking about your servants back at your manor… and we are at a palace. I figured there are… people who do it here."

"Oh, there are, you silly girl! If you are not aware, I am getting lessons in the art of stewardship!"

Daedra blinked confusedly at Maribelle. Well, that was news to her. "'Stewardship'? Like… being a butler or maid?"

"Ugh! Of course, what else would it be? Now to prevent you from asking any more annoying questions, I am learning the art so that I can pass it on to the help in my manor. If I want them to be the best, they need to learn from the best – me," she stated as she rigorously began polishing a new spoon.

The tactician made an acknowledging sound but said nothing more for the moment. Maribelle clearly wasn't a morning person, though in retrospect, Maribelle seemed snappy with anyone but Lissa or Chrom. Looking at the pile of silverware beside her, she took note of the sheen upon them. While each spoon was clean and spotless, they lacked that certain reflective quality she was normally accustomed to seeing on them. Curious, Daedra looked to the blueblood and had to ask. "So, who is giving you the lessons? Or are you self-studying?"

Maribelle let out a snort through her dainty nose as she made to answer. "From Frederick, of course. At least, I was, until he decided to leave me to my task so he could…rush off to do some nonsense or another. Honestly, the nerve!" Maribelle turned her gaze over to Daedra, never stopping the motion of the polishing cloth, and just caught the tactician as she winced. "He's in the foulest of moods as of late, no thanks to you," she snapped but instantly bit her tongue when she saw Daedra's face begin to scrunch up. "Uh…no, wait, I'm sorry I said that." The noble stopped her work and placed the spoon and cloth upon the table as she turned to Daedra fully. "I didn't mean it like that. I know you didn't do it intentionally, and Frederick….well….he's a strange sort, let's be honest. The things Lissa has confided in me about that man and the things I've seen myself! Outrageous! I fear I am a bit….testy from this early hour and this…ugh…activity! It's positively degrading! Me – a lady of fine upbringing – up at the crack of dawn to make tea and polish spoons! The things I do for my home! And, my tutor even abandoned me! Ugh!"

As Maribelle ranted about, Daedra couldn't help but smile and giggle. Poor Maribelle, she thought, even if the whole thing was a bit silly. Still, the tactician was relieved to discover her earlier assumption was true and that Maribelle was actually very nice under all her fancy upbringings and her sharp tongue. Looking back to the table, she took note of the silver again and frowned. While the cutlery seemed acceptable to the other girl, Daedra knew better. If Frederick was overseeing her steward training, he was not going to like the quality of those spoons. Looking to her own palms, she tenderly rubbed them as she remembered the pain of her own first go at Frederick's polishing routine. She could only imagine what Maribelle would do when she found out she'd have to start over.

Looking to the door of the larder, she silently debated with herself. There was a good chance Frederick could pop in at any given moment, and she wanted to give him some space. Yet, she couldn't exactly just turn and leave Maribelle, especially when she knew something the noble didn't. Making up her mind, Daedra immediately got up from her seat and went over to one of supply drawers near the work counters. Maribelle watched in confusion as the tactician began to frantically look through multiple draws and shift things about within them. Soon, Daedra's face lit up in delight as she held up another polishing cloth before returning to her chair and set about polishing a spoon that Maribelle had just placed down.

"Wait! What are you doing?! I just polished that, and I'm supposed to do them! These are my lessons," Maribelle shouted, though she tried to control her voice when she remembered it was still early.

Daedra didn't bothering looking up and kept up her polishing as she replied. "You said you're learning to be a steward, right? Well, there's very rarely just one steward; they usually have lot of help. So, I'll be the help!" She placed her spoon in a pile farther away from the rest of the mess on the table before looking to Maribelle with apologetic eyes. "I hate to tell you this, but you'll have to redo all the spoons."

"WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HAVE TO REDO THEM, I SAT AND I'VE BEEN POLISHING THEM," she shrieked.

The tactician couldn't hide her wince and had to shake her head to clear the ringing before she continued. "Yes, but Frederick won't approve them. He'll make you redo every single one. He likes things to have an almost reflective shine; so reflective you have to be able to see yourself in them. Like this," she chirped as she held the spoon she finished up for Maribelle to inspect. The noble snatched it from her grasp and frowned at the item. After a moment she quietly spoke, "My…but that is rather shiny, almost like a mirror." With a sigh, the noble handed the spoon back to Daedra, realizing that the tactician was most likely right. This was Frederick she was dealing with after all.

Daedra smiled sympathetically as she placed the spoon in its designated place. "Frederick had me polishing the weapons during my first botched training session. I ended up cutting my hands from all the sharp edges and giving myself blisters because I had to re-polish some at least three times!" Daedra noticed Maribelle frown even more as she lifted her soft hands to look upon them, almost as if she were imagining the damage that would befall them. Standing from her seat, Daedra went over to stand behind Maribelle and placed the hands upon the noble's and guided her to pick up her cloth and spoon. "But, I figured out the best technique to get that sparkly shine, and without blistering your hands! Your wrists will probably be sore after this first time, but it goes away in a day. So here, try it like this," she said as she began to ghost Maribelle's hands into the rapid motions that were now second nature to her. Maribelle looked over her shoulder in confusion but soon turned her gaze to watch their hands as they worked together. Once Daedra led Maribelle along, she slowly slid her hands away when she felt the other girl was able to set the motion and rhythm on her own. "There, you got it! Now, if the two of us work on this pile together, it'll be done before they're even needed for breakfast!"

And the two of them got to work on polishing. They mostly worked in silence, concentrating hard on their task to get every spoon to a shine even Frederick would be proud of. When most of the spoons had been polished, Maribelle excused herself to pour the two of them some of the tea that had been waiting. No sense letting it go to waste because of a certain silly knight. Daedra thanked her for the drink, happily taking in its delicious aroma and savory flavor. As Maribelle settled herself in her seat, she paused in her polishing as she turned her eyes to the tactician.

"So, it's no secret about what Frederick said last night. Almost everyone knows about how he's refusing to train you, but I also heard something else from my dear Lissa."

Daedra had to pause at that. Placing the spoon she was working on down, she looked up to maribelle with cautious eyes. The tactician knew information spread like wild vines sometimes within the Shepherds, but she had hoped the incident from last night would at least take a bit more time to get around. Still, she couldn't deny she was now curious at this extra information Maribelle was claiming to have. Maribelle took a sip of her tea and calmly placed it back upon its saucer. When she saw she had Daedra's attention, she casually moved one of her curled locks over her shoulder. "Well, I heard that since Frederick won't train you, Chrom is thinking of letting you be a cleric. After all, armies don't just run on buffoons waving axes, like that buffoon, Vaike. It needs healers too! Who needs swords and lances? I've never touched one and I'm just as important! After all, who keeps everyone stitched together but me and Lissa?" Maribelle smiled at her little speech and gave Daedra a rather cocky look.

Daedra sat stunned. A cleric? She'd never thought of that. If she couldn't fight, maybe she could heal instead. What a great idea, well…. provided things went smoother than her other training attempts. "Hmm, I never thought about being a healer. Another cleric would be useful, I suppose. I'm sure Lissa wouldn't mind showing me!"

"-Ooooooor, you let me show you."

Daedra looked in confusion at the rather confident look Maribelle was giving her. "Huh?"

The noble frowned at the tactician's dazed expression. Surely she hadn't overlooked her ability. "Have you forgotten that I'm a healer as well? A troubadour, specifically."

"Oh no, I haven't forgotten! It's just… I didn't think you'd want to bother with me. I'm pretty…bad at things," Daedra confided with a nervous laugh. She'd seen how little patience Maribelle had with certain Shepherds, namely when it came to mistakes.

"But as I said before, 'if you wish to be the best, you must learn from the best'. Besides, you helped me today, so it is only right I offer you the same assistance. While Lissa is quite formidable with her staff, a troubadour is simply the way to go! Riding upon your gallant steed across the battlefield to aid fallen comrades, and then whisk away at the first hint of trouble to aid the next in need. I keep telling Lissa to get a horse for herself but she refuses! Saying she feels better on foot, such a silly girl!"

Daedra looked on in awe. The way Maribelle described it, it did sound wonderful, and she'd finally be of real use to her Shepherds instead of an easy target. This just had to work! "Alright! Let's do it. If I'm so bad with a sword, I must be good at a staff then. Please teach me maribelle, we can ask lissa, too! I bet if both of you teach me, I'll be great in no time!"

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Aaaaand done~

I'm so sorry this chapter took such a long time. In reality, it's not that I wasn't writing in that time….but I was actually writing something for a chapter much later on. I got the idea and had a bunch of things concerning it, but my memory is absolutely awful. So I decided to just write it instead fo doing a mere summary thing and forget most of the details when it came time to really write it. It was an interesting experience since it gave me a bit of practice in writing Frederick when he's…not super jerky and butthurt lol. Knowing my luck I'll end up hating the chapter farther downt he line and deleting it.

Anyway!

Kudos to L_Casablanca btw. The fight was going to be in the chapter the whole time but your suggestion came pretty close to it already lol. Also I've set up a tumblr for myself for FE doodles mostly. You can find me under 'scienceeyes'. Not much floating around but feel free to take a gander. Once again thanks for reading!