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Byleth knew she should be sleeping, or at least resting. They were set to depart for the sealed forest in a matter of hours. She and Claude, overseen by Seteth, had gone over the plan, traced the paths of the forest on the few shoddy maps created of it. They had walked the rest of the Golden Deer through the initial plan, and prepared them for the near certainty that was their plan falling apart. There was nothing left to plan, she knew that. But the cool burn of sorrow and revenge burned through her blood, had her pacing the floor.
She knew the plan; she also knew, just as Claude knew, that the moment she was presented with the opportunity, she would abandon the plan, go on the hunt for the death of the person who had robbed her of her father. She promised herself that she wouldn’t return to the monastery until that girl, Monica, was dead at her feet.
Life for Life
It was the mercenary way, something she had done for other mercs for years. Follow them into battle to gain peace for the soul of a murdered loved one. And, though it had been many months since she had taken this teaching position, that had been her life for ten years. The call for revenge was ingrained, ran deep in her blood, through her still heart.
But the promise carved on her heart had complications. Even knowing that she would not rest until Monica was dead, when she closed her eyes, she saw the faces of her students, her friends looking back at her. Leonie’s pain-glazed eyes, Raphael’s sweet smile. Ignatz, Lysithea, Hilda, Lorenz, Marianne, their pain, their grief. And Claude. Claude, who knew this was a trap, knew that she would abandon the plan at a moment’s notice. Who spent his whole life avoiding situations like the one they would march into. And still, he offered his support, determined and ready to fight for his Teach.
They had become so precious, so dear to her. A life lived in a haze brought to perfect clarity, emotions buried and dealt with from a distance for so long, now felt in the moment, though she could not help but pull away occasionally. All these feelings, all because of her precious Deer.
And yet, if she did not manage to kill Monica, how could she return here? How could she come home without setting her father’s soul at rest? But could she leave them? If Monica escaped, she would most likely try to lead Byleth into a trap. If Byleth pursued, the Deer would follow. She would not lead them into death. But could she abandon them? Rip these people so dear to her from her heart and soul and chase the killer? Would she give up one family to claim vengeance for another?
Byleth finally halted, standing in the middle of her room. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sothis, floating and kicking her legs as she thought. She had been more present lately, seemingly afraid to leave Byleth physically alone, not that she would admit it.
Staying in this room was too much right now. She could hear Sothis’s encouraging voice, whispering that fresh air would do her good. Maybe a glass of wine, from the stash that the cooking staff kept for particularly special feasts. She wouldn’t drink too much, not enough to hinder her tomorrow. But she would give anything to ease the ache in her chest.
She stepped to the door, pausing to listen for the sounds of patrolling guards. She had noticed them passing her room more frequently since this morning, after her talk with Rhea and Seteth. No doubt the Archbishop wondered if Byleth would try to circumvent orders.
Listening, she didn’t hear the clang of metal armor or the padding of boots against the paths. Instead, she heard the wood of the deck creaking rhythmically, as though someone were rocking from heel to toe. And was that whistling?
For the first time in weeks, she felt the urge to laugh at how very purposefully obvious he was making himself. She had seen that boy sneak through hoards of thieves and monsters, only to direct a killing blow from behind. He had spent most of his life hiding, so if he had wanted to watch over her without being spotted, she had no doubt he would have managed it. Which most likely meant he wanted something from her. Or maybe, like Sothis, he just wanted her to know he was there, ready at a moment's notice. But ready for what?
She opened the door and was not surprised at all to be met with a quick, half-hearted grin and vibrant green eyes meeting hers.
“Hey Teach, I was wondering when you’d be done in there. Going for a walk? I’ll come too.”
The words were clipped and short. No excuses, no attempts to talk his way out of an explanation. So worried, not looking for something then.
Byleth shook her head and leaned against the door frame, “How long have you been out here, Claude?”
“Only…. Two, three hours? I was sitting over there,” He gestured towards the barrels and crates next to her door. “When I heard you start pacing, I figured I should be ready. You know, in case you decide to take off.”
Claude gave her a charming grin, but his eyes danced with concern. She wondered what fueled that worry; that she would charge into danger? Or that he knew he couldn’t stop her. He had never managed to outmaneuver her or overpower her, no matter how he trained to wield his bow and ax. A curious voice in her mind wondered what he would do if she took off. Would he try to stop her physically, knowing it would be futile? Call for the other Deer to follow her, as he had done with the Red Canyon? Or maybe, he had some other scheme planned, to outsmart rather than overpower. She was tempted to try, to see.
But no, she wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t cause him additional stress.
“I was going to the Dining Hall.” She slipped past him and headed off, not offering an invitation. It wasn’t needed. Claude was at her side before she was down the stairs.
He kept up a steady stream of meaningless chatter as they walked, discussing everything the poisons he was thinking of tipping his arrows with to which cats Felix had been petting earlier that day. By the time they made it to the hall, he was telling her about a fairy tale he had grown up with that Hilda had asked him about.
“She was crying by the end. I’d never thought she would get so emotional over it.” He paused, waiting for a response he knew wouldn’t come.
Byleth just nodded and headed behind the counter where she knew a few goblets and bottles of wine were kept by the kitchen staff. Grabbing two delicate goblets, she popped the cork out of the wine and filled each glass half full, sliding one across the counter to Claude.
He chuckled as he watched her take a sip, but the sound was tense. “Teach, I didn't know the professors here had a stash. Or is this for feasts? I didn't take you for a rulebreaker.” Liar she thought as he picked up the glass and took a sip for himself. When he pulled it back, “It’s good. If you don’t find another place to hide it, I may have to indulge every once in a while. Are you sure I’m even supposed to have this?”
Byleth shrugged and took another sip. “Were you supposed to be hovering outside my room?”
“Touche, Teach.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, listening to the creak of the ancient room around them. Claude seemed to settle before her eyes, less antsy by the second. Was that the wine? Or the fact that he now had eyes on her, knowing she was safe?
Claude didn’t exactly keep it a secret what he saw her as. With her power, and the Sword of Creator at her side, she was a powerful tool and she knew it. She had seen the unadulterated desire in his stare when looked at the sword for the first time. With her, his chances of accomplishing whatever the lofty ambition was that he clung to so tightly in that busy mind of his.
The knowledge that she was a tool to be used should have bothered her. And, in fact, were it anyone else, she would resist, if not outright refuse. But she remembered the way those green eyes had lit up when he spoke of a world reborn. The liquid viridian fire flashed against the injustices of the society around them. The way he spoke to other students, the way he had spoken about his dream, even without revealing the truth of it.
She had told him that if it was a noble dream, she would follow. And had known, even as she had said the words, that she had already made her decision. She would follow this man, his dream. If she was to be used as a tool, she would choose who would wield her. And she would cut down the world to move him forward.
She knew that everyone looked at her this way. Edelgard and Dimitri, both of whom looked at her as a mentor, but also something to be feared. Rhea, whose kind eyes, who looked at her like a puzzle piece she’d finally found. The enemy, the Flame Emporer, who asked her to join even as innocents burned around them. For so long, people had looked at her as though she could do anything on the battlefield. She was the wild card, the one to be put in the most strategic places, because she would obtain her goals. Maybe that was why her father-
She gripped her goblet tight, pain slashing through her silent heart.
She had to get out of her head. So she asked, “Are you going to tell me why you were lurking outside my room? Because you’re not stupid enough to think you had a hope of stopping me on your own and your too smart to think I would go to the Sealed Forest on my own.”
Claude straightened up and pressed a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. “Teach, really! I’m hurt. I bet I could restrain you for at least a second!”
She just stared.
“And, well, I knew you wouldn’t really go after them by yourself, but sometimes grief can make people do stupid things,” he hesitated, and then let out a quiet sigh. “ And… I’m nervous, Teach.”
“Nervous?” Byleth didn’t think she had ever heard him admit that before, outside of jokes, and she couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice. Not surprised that he was nervous; it would be foolish if he wasn’t. But she was surprised that he would admit it.
Claude hesitate, his gaze shifting around the room, as though afraid someone else might hear him admit this supposed weakness. “Teach, I… I don’t know, maybe you’ve never had this problem, but… The dreams. I can’t make them stop.”
“Which ones?” As a mercenary, She had seen other Mercs suffer from them from time to time. You couldn’t live a life embroiled in fighting and death and not have them occasionally. And there were so many, as varied as the ways a person could see themselves. The ones where your the monster for killing, Where you stop feeling, where there is only blood and darkness. She wondered if she had been in touch with her emotions then, would she have had them sooner?
Claude was still hesitating, but he answered, “I see… people dying. People close to me. On the battlefield.” He took a settling breath, and then the words rush out like he’s been reliving the dreams over and over and they're just looking for any chance to escape. “I’m on the field, and I see everyone. They’re dying around me, and I can do nothing. They’re there because of me, because of my plan, and I can’t save them and It’s all my fault. I brought this on them. And… I’m all alone again.”
The words settle between them, an offering. The sins waiting for absolution.
She remembers the mercenaries having those dreams. Screaming for loved ones, screaming for themselves, for strangers dying before their eyes. She had heard the pained noises from her father, whispering her name in a desperate, pleading way. She had counted herself lucky. She’d never had those dreams. The only one she had feared losing for so long was so strong, so unbreakable. And when she had come here, Sothis’s gift let her keep her Golden Deer alive. Everyone was safe. But then-
She hears Claude laugh distantly, even as the memories of her most recent nightmares begin to pull her in. “I guess that’s not something you’ve dealt with before. I’m sorry for bringing it up. I just… I’ve never had people that I cared about in this much danger before. Usually, it’s just me.”
“No Claude, I-” she hesitated, then decided there was only one thing she could do. Life for life. Truth for Truth. Trust for Trust.
And she trusted him.
And maybe, just maybe, she needed to let it out too.
“Lysithea is usually the first, in mine. So small, so stubborn. And they know what it would do to us to lose her. They rob her of her senses first, trying to weaken her. She still manages to take out a few of them before they kill her.
“Next is Raphael, because they can’t hold him down for long. He always seems like he’ll get away. They start by throwing one man at a time at him, and he takes it, blow for blow. But then it’s two at a time, then three and four. Even Raphael can’t fight forever.”
She can hear the way his breath stops as he listens, and she knows too well the sort of images that she’s conjuring up between them. She sees it too, just as vividly as when she closes her eyes at night.
“Leonie fights too, but they set beasts on her. She’s ripped to shreds in moments.
“Lorenz is too valuable, so they don’t kill him. But if they just ransom him, he’ll come back for vengeance. So they break him, tear his dignity and his pride. In Front of us. Then they sell a broken man.
They take Ignatz's eye, and then his hands. Leave him to bleed out.”
She hears his intake of breath as she says the next name. “Hilda and Marianne… They take them together. Only Hilda is left alive…”
Her throat swells shut, and she stops. It takes a few breaths before she can finish. The whole time, his eyes never stray from hers.
“You’re in the sky,” Her voice is soft now, and she can’t stop the aching in her chest as her mind paints the image, so bright and vibrant. Her favorite student, her trusted ally. “You’ve always been in the sky. A white wyvern. You dodge for as long as you can, but it rains arrows, and they rip you down. They take you and-” But she can’t. She can’t say the final words, even as her mind supplies the image. The jagged knife in her chest and she watches, unseeing, as right before the kill him, her Golden Deer smiles at her.
Tears don’t fall. Not like then. Not like they have every night since the dreams started when she realized that she couldn’t save them all. Not like when she is alone in her room, with only Sothis, who knows her mind and body, to stand and cry with her.
No, she doesn’t cry. But that only makes the feelings worse.
Claude’s gaze doesn’t leave her’s and she wishes for just a moment that she could see what was going on behind those eyes. Wonders if he heard her for what she meant. Truth for truth. She would not let him bear himself alone.
“I don’t know how to stop the dreams, Claude. Maybe they can’t stop. Maybe they are the price of our ambition. We fight for a world that is safe for ourselves, our loved ones. But we risk losing more than what we fight for. Maybe the dreams are there to remind us of that, and make sure we still think it’s worth fighting for.”
His hand reaches out and grasps hers. The heat of his hand, alive, pulled her to the present. To the two of them, alone in the halls.
“Do you think it will be? Is the future I’m searching for worth losing them all?”
“I’d fight for your dream Claude. I knew when you first asked that I’d fight for you and your dream."
They go quiet, hands grasped as though if they were to let go, they would both fall into the abyss.
“I’m using you,” He whispered.
“I know,” she replies. “I trust you.”
Tomorrow, he would lead her and the others into the sealed forest. Tomorrow she would try and fail to get her revenge.
Tomorrow, his nightmare would become reality when she vanished into darkness. Tomorrow she would through the world itself to fight her way back to his side. Their sides.
But tonight, for just this one night, the nightmares were quiet.