A special shoutout to willowloves, Amazingchingao, Luo Hao and ArmadaScream. You guys are my shiny, green stones!
Edelgard did not have an appetite. She pushed her food with her fork from one end of the plate to the other. Her classmates sat at the same table as her in the dining hall, yet their words were as distant as the sky.
Her body felt heavy today. Edelgard's mind drifted to the dungeon. She saw her teacher's accusing eyes trying to pierce her armor as he bombarded her with question after question. She knew exactly how observant Byleth was, so she tried to lower the pitch of her voice. Edelgard did not know if her facade had worked.
Her teacher had not let on that he suspected anything, but he wasn't the type who would.
"Heya princess!" Edelgard snapped her head up to see Claude and Dimitri approaching her with plates in their hands.
"It's good to see you again," Dimitri lowered himself to the seat next to her. "It seems your class has been quite busy lately."
"Yes, we have," Edelgard coolly replied before returning her eyes to her plate.
"Rescuing Flayn," Claude let out a hearty laugh. "It's all anyone can talk about around the monastery. You guys keep this up and Dimitri and I are going to have to plan some heroics of our own!"
"Not to mention Monica," Dimitri solemnly nodded. "I heard she'd been missing no less than a year. Yet this is the first time I've heard of her."
Monica.
Edelgard clenched her jaw, "it's certainly a relief that we found her."
"I also heard that your class has been doing like, crazy intense training," Claude raised his brow. "Mercenary training."
"It's true," Dimitri nodded. "Everyone's abuzz with the class that seems to go jogging every morning with weights draped across their shoulders and then returns only to begin their dance training."
"It's called the Dance of Water," Leonie interjected. Edelgard hadn't even noticed that her classmates had stopped their internal conversations.
"It is quite tough," Ingrid added. "But it quickens our pace and balance."
"Not to mention it makes us practically superhuman," Leonie gave the house leaders a smirk. "So you guys better watch out during the class battle!"
"Yeah, Leonie!" Caspar stood from his seat and raised his palm into the air. Leonie excitedly jumped and smacked his hand with her own.
Somehow, Edelgard knew they would get along.
Dimitri chuckled, "your class seems to think your victory is assured."
"They are an excitable group," Edelgard replied. She had to admit, though it was in stark contrast with her own personality, it was a part of the Black Eagles' charm.
"It ain't over until it's over!" Claude stood from his seat to egg her classmates on.
"What is that meaning?" Petra turned to ask Dorothea. "If it is over, then wouldn't it having been implied that it is, indeed, over?"
"Don't listen to them," Dorothea patted Petra's hand. "They're just trying to intimidate us."
"Is it working?" Claude shot them a mischievous smile before taking his seat.
"I don't get intimidated!" Leonie seemed to have only one level of excitement, and it was at the highest setting.
Claude playfully placed a hand over his chest, "Leonie, you wound me. Were you not once a Golden Deer?"
"I'm a Black Eagle now!" She replied, "and we're gonna wipe the battlefield with you!"
Edelgard couldn't help but to smile. It was true that she once was wary of her teacher allowing the transfers, but it seemed he garnered such loyalty, that their previous houses no longer mattered. They were, indeed, Black Eagles now.
She heard another smack and could only deduce that Leonie and Caspar had engaged in yet another high-five.
"I swear, you two can be such children sometimes," Dorothea rolled her eyes.
Caspar stayed standing, he lifted his hand back into the air, "did you want one too, Dorothea?"
She hesitated and then stood with a smile, "only if you insist."
Caspar smacked her hand. "Anyone else want one?" He kept his hand in the air.
"I wish to try!" Petra stood from her seat.
"Yeah, Petra!" Another clap.
"If only our professor could amass such charisma," Dimitri gave them a wide smile. Edelgard was always pessimistic about his grins. To her, they always hid something darker. "Perhaps, then we might poach some of your class for ourselves."
"Never!" Caspar shook his head. "Black Eagles fight together, Black eagles stay together!"
There must have been something in the air today. Edelgard could only guess it was the pending class battle that brought out such… spirited displays.
"Yeah!" Annette tried to insert herself in their back-and-forth boasting, but her joyous tone betrayed the point. "We'll certainly do our best!"
"Is that why you've approached us?" Edelgard broke her silence as she turned her head to face the other house leaders. "To engage in disparaging banter?"
"Well that and to say that we think it's awfully big of you to lend us your professor," Claude's face brightened.
"Lend you our professor?" Edelgard scowled.
"Yes," Dimitri nodded. "We heard that we're to hold a joint class session soon, led by none other than the famous Professor Eisner."
"I've nothing about this matter," Edelgard waved her hand dismissively.
"It's true," Claude shrugged. "When we were visiting Professor Manuela in the infirmary, she told us the same thing… though she might have insinuated that your teach may not know yet. She said it might take some 'convincing.'"
"Hey, that's cheating!" Leonie frowned.
"I have to agree, he's our professor," Dorothea scoffed.
Edelgard inwardly agreed. He's our professor.
"Don't look at us," Claude put his hands in the air. "It's what our teachers told us."
"Perhaps it can wait until after the Battle of the Eagle and Lion," Ingrid stated. "That would only seem fair."
"A sound proposal," Ferdinand nodded.
"It sounded like it would be in the coming days," Dimitri gingerly patted his lips with his serviette. "So unfortunately, that may not be the case."
Edelgard made a note to herself to speak with her teacher about this. Of course, the thought of sharing him with the other classes should not bother her, but it did. She knew her feelings for him made her protective over who he spent his time with.
"And I wouldn't count your chickens before they hatch," Claude pointed down the line of Black Eagles. "Our professor's probably not going to be participating in the mock battle due to her injuries. Knowing Dimitri's professor, he'll excuse himself over honor or something like that."
"So, it would only be appropriate for my teacher to excuse himself as well," Edelgard pursed her lips.
"It'd only be fair," Claude smiled widely. "After all, he's got himself a real hero's relic. It wouldn't be befitting to be the only teacher on the field whipping all the students."
"That's okay!" Leonie lowered her brow, "we don't need him to win!"
Claude ignored her taunt and craned his neck to peer at Edelgard, "speaking of which, how's your teach fairing with that beast of a sword?"
"I'm sorry to interrupt," Edelgard turned her head and she could feel the blood leave her face.
"But can I steal her for a sec?" Monica stood above them. "We have a lot to catch up on!"
"Monica," Dimitri peered behind him. "Why don't you join us? We were talking about the pending class battle."
"I wish I could," Monica pouted, "but it's all girl talk. I'm sure you understand."
Dimitri smiled and gave her a nod.
She placed her hand firmly around Edelgard's arm and practically lifted her from her seat. Edelgard could feel her heart quicken as they walked further from her class.
Monica interlaced her arm through hers, "oh it's going to be so good spending some time with you again!"
"You may drop the act," Edelgard kept her voice low. They passed several more students as they exited into the Great Hall.
"I don't know what you mean, Edelgard," Monica's pitch was much higher than it should have been, almost as if she believed it made her more innocent. "Can't an old classmate want to spend time with her class leader?"
"I will not participate in this ridiculous charade," Edelgard grew frustrated.
"But I haven't heard from you in sooo very long," she replied as she pouted her lower lip. "In fact, a lot of people haven't heard from you."
Finally, she reached her point.
"I spoke with Tomas not that long ago," she snapped.
"But the Sword of the Creator remains in the hands of that… mercenary," Monica's voice lowered, her face devoid of emotion.
"And I told him that we may not have to steal it," Edelgard peered at her surroundings as the sunlight shone on the hedge garden. "If my teacher is willing to join our cause-"
"How are you so confident that'll happen?"
"It will, I already told Tomas all of this," she was careful not to use Solon's real name. Not when there were many students out and about.
"He hasn't seen any sign of your dear teacher knowing anything about us, let alone wanting to join us," Monica kept her eyes on the passing students.
"Then let me tell him," Edelgard nodded firmly. "I'll tell him everything right now."
She had already planned to disclose everything to her teacher. In her mind, she went through several plans. If only she could reach him, she could tell him about Those Who Slither in the Dark and her desire to break her ties. Then, Edelgard thought to herself, then the cards could fall where they may.
"Nuh-uh," Monica waved her pointer finger in the air. "Tomas says you've already had your chance."
Edelgard's heart sank and a lump formed in her throat, "what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"It means your precious teacher can keep his sword, for now," Monica whispered as they passed a few mages gathered together. "Until Tomas decides what to do with him."
"My professor shares many of our ideals, it would be a little premature to end his grooming," Edelgard stated coldly. Inside, her heart burned and her stomach churned.
"Oh, I don't think Tomas intends to groom him, at least not for much longer."
"Then what could he possibly have in mind?" Edelgard feared the answer, but she knew she had to hear of their true intentions.
"If it's as you say, then your professor will be fine," Monica placed her hand over Edelgard's. "But Tomas will find out for himself."
"And if he doesn't like what he finds?"
"Don't make me say it, dear Edelgard," Monica chuckled. "I think you already know the answer to that silly question."
Edelgard felt numb. Her surroundings were more distant than they were just a moment ago.
"I won't allow it," Edelgard vigorously shook her head.
"Oh, you won't allow it?" Monica seemed amused.
"No, I won't," she held firm in her tone. "Tomas can't very well risk losing his greatest weapon."
"Ha!" Monica laughed loudly. "You seem to hold yourself in high regard. But whatever. Something tells me Tomas won't lose anything."
"If you plan to move forward with your idiotic plan, he most certainly-"
"Well, you can make sure that doesn't happen then, my dear Edelgard," Monica gave her side a gentle poke.
Edelgard scrunched her face.
"As long as you continue to play nice," Monica began, "then something tells me our sweet professor will come to no harm."
Of course. Edelgard swallowed hard. A bargaining chip to ensure she remained in compliance. It seemed her dream of rewriting her own destiny was fleeting before her eyes.
"And to make sure that happens," Monica interrupted her thoughts. "I think I'll stick around for a while. After all, I have a lot of catching up to do in class."
Byleth scanned the spines of the books on the shelf. The library was usually quiet, but today it was bustling with the ruffling sounds of pages being skimmed and low whispers of its inhabitants. Almost every table was occupied and one student, Lysithea, carried several books in her arms as she returned them to the shelf.
He had a few books under his arm as well. Byleth didn't have much to go on based on his conversation with Hubert, so he had gathered books on a variety of topics. The Adrestian Empire, crests, the War of Heroes. He didn't want to leave a stone unturned.
"A variety of material, you have there," an elderly voice called from behind him.
Byleth turned and gave the old librarian, Tomas, a warm smile, "most of my students are from the Empire, it'll be nice to know how ancient Adrestians trained. Maybe even incorporate some of their tactics into their training."
He didn't like to lie, but he would when necessary. And for some reason, around Tomas, he felt there was more than enough reason to justify his sin. Something about the old man didn't sit right with Byleth. Perhaps it was the fact that his gait had changed often.
Usually in old age, or even with battle wounds, the person would favor a particular side. However, one day Tomas might favor his left, and the next it would be his right. Something told Byleth that he was feigning his elderly walk and if the old librarian felt it necessary to hide his reason, then Byleth was justified in hiding why he wanted the library material.
"Oh, and crests!" Tomas let out a weak chuckle, "you should really speak with Professor Hanneman, he's the leading expert in all of Fodlan."
"I will, thanks," Byleth looked down at his books. "Just thought I should know what each of my students' strengths were since they possess a diversity of crests."
Another weak, elderly chuckle. Tomas pointed at the last book that Byleth held, "I think most of your students already know the tale of the War of Heroes."
"My father was never one for tales," he nodded toward the old librarian. "It's personal reading. Thought it might help me better wield my own sword."
"Very well," Tomas offered him a warm smile. "You seem to know what you're looking for. Be sure to summon me if you need help finding anything."
"Thank you," Byleth returned his smile, and let it fade as soon as the librarian turned his back. He knew an interrogation for what it was.
There certainly has been a myriad of oddness happening lately. He decided he could no longer put off his trip to the library after they had retrieved Flayn and the other girl, Monica.
He had not vocalized his suspicions, not until he found out more but he had a nagging feeling that Monica had something to do with whatever Hubert was trying to warn him of. Byleth pictured Edelgard's pale face as her eyes rested on the red-haired student and then he was informed that she had been missing for over a year.
Had the Death Knight fed her all this time? Had he provided other amenities she would need to not only survive, but by judging her overall health, thrive under such conditions? Even if Jeritza had been kind enough to provide through her torment of being held captive, why would she suddenly faint just before they entered the dungeon?
Byleth approached one of the unoccupied tables and set his small stack of books in front of him. He would certainly have to take them back to his quarters as the night approached, but for the moment he wanted to watch the librarian a little longer.
It was a strange time he chose to start his interrogation of Byleth. He and Shamir had visited the library many times, yet this was the first time he scrutinized his selection of books. Hubert's warning, Monica's reappearance, the librarian. Any one of those instances might constitute a coincidence, but Byleth felt as if the walls were closing in on him with suspicious serendipity.
Whatever was coming, time was running out.
Byleth opened one of the books in front of him. He looked down at the pages but did not read. He listened to Tomas thanking Lysithea for her help restocking the shelves and then watched him walk away.
Today he favored his right side. Whatever medicine the old man was taking, it could not have been of very good quality if it would only help one side at a time.
He must've been committed to appearing frail. For what reason, Byleth did not know. He returned his eyes to his book and saw that he had chosen The History of the Adrestian Empire first.
Deep, rapid breaths caught his attention. Byleth peered up and saw Lysithea leaning against one of the shelves. She held a hand to her chest before she turned around to attempt to lift another stack of books.
Byleth casually closed his book and placed it back onto the table as he lifted himself from his seat.
He took several steps forward and grabbed a few books from her pile and faced the bookshelf, looking for their proper places.
"Hey!" Lysithea snapped. "I didn't ask for your help!"
"I didn't offer it," Byleth replied. He squeezed one of the books back in its place.
"Then what are you doing?" She huffed.
"Putting away books," his eyes scanned the spines of the books on the shelf, he found the home of the other.
"That's what I'm doing!" Lysithea placed what remained of her stack on one of the wooden shelves.
He lowered his brow as he fabricated his ignorance. She may not be in his class, but Byleth had overheard many conversations, he knew she did not like to be coddled or be judged as 'too young' or 'too weak'. Before he came to the monastery, it could mean the difference between life and death if you didn't analyze everyone around you.
"Is…" Byleth let his words trail, hoping it would add to his ignorant act. "Is only one person allowed to put away books?"
"Well, no," Lysithea's eyes darted from side to side, searching for a witty comeback, no doubt. "Just make sure you do it right."
Satisfied that he had not offended her, he approached the table to grab the last stack of books. It would be less for her to carry. He placed them next to her tower and the two began methodically removing tomes and placing them on various bookshelves.
They did so in silence until the very last volume was back in its place. It took longer than he thought it would, but at least she would not have to continue to exert her body.
Lysithea let out a deep sigh as she wiped her hands together, clearly proud of her accomplishment.
Byleth gave her a nod and calmly returned to his table to retrieve his books. Surely night had fallen by now. He placed them under his arm and began to make his way to the library exit.
He would have to start his reading once he returned to his room. By the thickness of the tomes he carried, it was going to take several days to go through.
Byleth effortlessly trotted down the steps and turned the corner. The frustrating part, at least in his mind, was he wasn't even sure if he was on the right track.
Perhaps it had nothing to do with the empire's throne. Maybe Edelgard's minor crest of Seiros was completely irrelevant. But he had to start somewhere.
Steps behind him.
Byleth did not turn around. He kept his normal pace as he listened closely. They were soft, but not that of a trained assassin, but rather an inexperienced person trying to avoid detection. Not Hubert's muffled steps, or that of a woman's heel. But their shoes were heavier on the ball of the foot, as if they were wearing platforms.
Dorothea? No, he would certainly smell Dorothea's strong perfume. He was downwind, after all.
He quickly turned the corner that led to the dorm rooms. Byleth immediately pressed himself against the brick wall behind their homeroom, in between two bushes.
A figure turned the corner. Short. White hair.
"Lysithea?" Byleth let his body relax.
"Aaahh!" Lysithea jumped, "Gh-ghost!"
Her scream carried heavily through the monastery. Byleth was certain she awoke at least half of the students.
"Where are you going?" Byleth hushed his own voice, trying to encourage her to do the same.
"Professor? Is that you?" Lysithea let out a forced laugh. "Good evening!"
"We just saw each other in the library," Byleth's curiosity grew.
"Yes, well I remembered that I had forgotten something of mine in the dining hall," she crossed her arms in front of her chest.
Byleth lowered his brow. He didn't need another mystery, "there are faster ways to the dining hall from the library."
"I must have gotten turned around," she continued. "You don't need to come with me or anything like that, I'll be fine on my own!"
Then it clicked. He inwardly chastised himself for not realizing it with the shrill she let loose. She was afraid to walk by herself. And of ghosts, apparently.
"I wasn't planning on it," Byleth knew how to play this game. Had he offered to accompany her, she could have taken offense.
"You weren't?" Lysithea let the smallest amount of disappointment reveal itself in her words. "My apologies for making that assumption. The truth is, everybody I come across asks if I'd like some company. They all seem to think I'd be scared wandering alone at night. So rude and presumptuous, you know? I'm perfectly capable by myself."
She was not ready to accept his company yet, "of course. Good evening."
He gave her a nonchalant nod and turned away from her as he resumed his walk.
"Wait! Hey- professor?" Lysithea jogged to close the distance between them.
Byleth turned to face her once again.
"I… um… well, I thought it'd be nice to walk together to the dining hall," she scrambled for an excuse. "If you're on patrol, that'd be a fine place to start!"
"I wasn't planning on it," Byleth shook his head.
"But there's a lot of important… food stored there," Lysithea rubbed her hands together. "It'd be prudent to check on it."
"You're probably right," Byleth gave in. "It wouldn't serve the monastery to suffer through a great food shortage."
"Wonderful!" Lysithea perked up at his compliance. "Just to be clear, this has absolutely nothing to do with my non-existent fear of ghosts."
He gave her a reassuring nod. The two walked together past his quarters.
"Would you mind filling the void with some chatter?" She continued to rub her hands together. A sign of anxiety, Byleth noted.
"What would you have me say?" He knew he needed to choose his words carefully with someone as easily offendable as Lysithea.
"Okay, I confess!" She flung her fists to her sides, "I am scared of ghosts. I find the monastery so unnerving at night. So can we please talk about something- anything? I hear your class is quite physically intensive."
"We do engage in a lot of physical activities, mental as well," Byleth didn't know what else to add.
"You do treat all your students equally, don't you?" She queried. "So you'd never treat me differently for being younger than the rest of your students? Theoretically, of course, if I ever decided to switch classes."
Byleth wasn't sure who was spreading rumors about his class, but everyone seemed to have heard stories. Hopefully, they were good stories. But more importantly, Lysithea threw out a fishing line about her age, he knew he must resist the bait, "you're younger?"
"Everyone says how observant you are, and yet you cannot tell? Isn't it rather obvious?"
Byleth knew she was. However, she deemed age to be an offensable topic, one he wished to avoid.
"But yes," she continued. "I'm roughly two to three years younger than the other students here. Oh, we've already reached the dining hall."
Byleth smiled.
"Well, I'd better be on my way now," Lysithea eagerly approached the double doors. "My room is just across the way, so I'll be on my way. Good night!"
And with that, she disappeared into the dining hall. He hoped Ingrid hadn't secretly raided the kitchen again, or the poor girl would be in for quite a fright.
He turned and began back the way he came. Byleth didn't hear any screaming, so he assumed Ingrid was resting.
He was in for a long night of reading. Whatever was coming, Byleth wanted to be prepared. And with the series of coincidences over such a short period of time he needed to learn all his mind would allow, as quickly as he could.