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Byleth knew many things. She knew how to run without being heard, even through a dry forest. She knew how to sharpen a blade in such a way that it would cut like new. She knew how to steady her breath to halt poison coursing through her veins. So many things she knew, but none of it helped her tonight. After every other battle she fought, the rush disappeared once the field was out of sight. Nor was it unusual for mercenaries, even former ones, to run into familiar faces during battle in which only one of them could survive. Yet, her mind buzzed all night. Emotions she didn’t recognize bubbled to the surface.
Grief had been a companion before. She felt it when Jeralt died. It was a sadness born from losing someone close to you. Often, it was preceded by regret if it was a life she wondered if she could’ve saved had she the energy left to do so. Guilt was no stranger, either. It warred in her heart whenever she took up Rhea’s mantle, despite not being one of her devouts. There wasn’t much anybody else could do to alleviate these emotions, but Byleth had learned to cope with them.
Now, though? There was something else. Something she hadn’t felt before. Of course, she wished the battle never needed to happen, but it wasn’t regret weighing on her mind tonight. They were passed the point of regret by now. Disappointment? No. That implied expectations Byleth hadn’t had. She knew one day she would cross blades with former students. They were too high ranking to avoid. What is it? Unable to identify it, she refocused on her sword.
Byleth didn’t like training with the sword of the creator. Sometimes, it felt as if it wanted things from her she was not prepared to give. Which was odd, considering it was an inanimate object, but she had long since learned to trust her instincts and preferred not to use it if possible. Besides, this blade had been a gift from Jeralt; given on her first solo mission as a mercenary. The weapon flashed in the light of the moon. As it arced in front of her, she saw the faces from before. Dodge, parry, and move forward. The fight replayed in her mind. As it did, she responded as she remembered she had. Lock steel and force them back.
“It’s too cold out for this, Teach.” A calm voice broke through the quiet. Ignoring it until after she finished her last move, she turned to face him.
“Claude.” The alliance leader, her former student, offered her a small smile. Back at the academy, he smiled much easier. But at the same, it felt less genuine. “What brings you out here?”
“Couldn’t sleep. Guess it was the same for you, but at least I am dressed for it.” He held his hands out and Byleth couldn’t help her lips curling from amusement. The alliance leader wore wyvern patterned pajamas. Letting his hands fall back to his side, he paused and glanced over the training space she’d occupied. “You know you’re the only one who could’ve fought Felix and won, right?” Blinking at him slowly, she raised an eyebrow. How did he know? “Your mock fight? It mimics the one you had with him today.” So he was watching her? “I couldn’t help but keep an eye on it. I would’ve jumped in if it looked like you needed it, but you held your own just fine. Not that it would’ve been terribly chivalrous to gang up on a single swordsman, but you’re too important for that to matter.” Considering schemes tended to be Claude’s game, Byleth wouldn’t have expected him to even wonder what the ‘chivalrous’ thing to do would be. Unfortunately, war rarely rewarded honor.
“Sylvain trained with Felix. He-”
“Would’ve been too close to the opponent to defend himself properly,” Claude shook his head. “You did him a kindness by tackling Felix yourself.” Glancing down at the sword in her hand, Byleth inhaled deeply. Was this the feeling she’d been trying to identify? Was she concerned she’d taken an important choice from her student? Did she think that, had it been Sylvain facing his childhood friend, would Felix’s life have been spared? Or would Sylvain have lost his?
“And what about you?” There was a shadow on his face she knew was not cast by the moon. Claude’s smile faltered and he sighed, running his hands through loose hair.
“Edelgard set fire to the center ballista.” Byleth raised an eyebrow. She remembered. Ignatz still sported the burns from the incident. Claude pressed his lips together. “ I’m the one who sent Ignatz to take it. If Leonie hadn’t been there to fly him out…” His fists clenched at his sides. Byleth frowned when she noticed the motion.
“Claude, you may have made the order but you were only doing what you thought was right. You can’t tell me that facing Felix wasn’t my fault and then turn around and berate yourself for making a decision as general. Ignatz was the best choice; he is our finest sniper. And he’ll be fine. You sent Leonie with him to ensure he would be.” Claude shook his head.
“It’s not the same. I should’ve known Edelgard would plant a trap there. I-”
“Placed Leonie as Ignatz’s guard. Any more than that and he would’ve been spotted before he could reach it.” Byleth interrupted him firmly, stepping towards him to place a hand on his arm. “Claude, you did everything you could’ve done. It’s not as if you sent him there while throwing caution to the wind. We needed that ballista and none of our weapons had the strength to reach it.” Still, the haunted look in his eyes didn’t fade. “What else is there?” Claude sighed and smiled warily at her.
“Can’t hide anything from you, can I?” Byleth smirked.
“Don’t know why you even try.” Taking her hand from his shoulder, his fingers ran along the callouses they found there. The curls of his hair fell forward, hiding his expression from her.
“Bernadetta was manning the ballista.” She nodded, waiting for him to continue. “Those traps were impact triggered. If we had just gone throwing magic at it, we could’ve set it off ourselves. Did she even know it was there?” Seeing where he was going with this, Byleth’s hand closed around his and brought them up. Claude’s gaze followed the motion and she saw the pain that had made its home in his green eyes.
“Claude…”
“Bernadetta could’ve burned to death. I’ve done some pretty questionable things as alliance leader, Teach. And I- I… as much as I want to say I would never place my people, my friends, into a trap that could friendly fire like that.. I can’t.” His voice trembled as he spoke. “That’s why I said I should’ve known Edelgard would’ve set a trap like that.”
“First and foremost, Claude,” Byleth lifted her hand to his cheek. His own held it to his face. “I would never allow you to do that. And secondly, isn’t it enough that you hadn’t thought of it to tell you you’re not the kind of person to do it in the first place?” Oftentimes, war councils started with imagining themselves in the shoes of their opponents in the hopes of anticipating their moves.
“I guess…” He still didn’t look convinced, but Byleth had said all she would on the topic. Like herself, Claude would have to come to terms with his choices on his own. One would think, after leading the alliance for so long, he’d be used to it.
Claude knew he couldn’t burden Byleth with his own expectations for himself. That, while he was known as ‘The Master Tactician’, she was the example he aimed to follow. When he first met her, he’d been drawn to her despite her mysterious background as a mercenary. Yet she proved herself a brilliant strategist and, at some point in time, the Golden Deer ended up turning to her for everything, himself included.
How could he tell her that, when she disappeared, he’d never felt so lost before? And that, now she was back, he’d been overconfident? He couldn’t let her share in the guilt that his confidence had gotten his classmate burned. Claude shilled out as much money as necessary for Ignatz to receive the best treatment. Archery aside, he wanted his friend to still be able to hold a paint brush when the war was done. Instead, he just smiled.
“Thanks, Teach.”
“Anytime…” Her voice trailed off and he glanced down. As she pulled away, her fingers brushed against his shirt almost longingly. Grinning, he caught her hand and placed it against his chest.
“Soft, isn’t it?” She nodded almost absently. “It’s found in Almyra, you know.” As blue eyes blinked up at him, his heart fluttered. Folks called Byleth the Ashen Demon. Called her expressionless and believed her heartless. But Claude knew better. If they thought his teacher didn’t show emotion, they clearly weren’t looking at her. Not the way he looked at her. “If the borders were laxer, more people would be able to sleep comfortably like this.” Byleth chuckled and patted his chest.
“One hurdle at a time, there.”
“With you, I know I’ll clear them all.” While he knew she wouldn’t believe his words, he wasn’t exaggerating. “First one being getting a good night’s rest.” Turning to head back, he offered her his arm. With a slight shake of her head, she accepted. Claude had escorted plenty of women before, it was only etiquette after all. But with Byleth, it was different. Selfishly, he wanted to walk slowly back to her rooms, but knew she would notice right away if he changed his gait. The hopeful part of him liked to think she knew his footsteps because she was as interested in him as he was in her, but the logical part argued that it was simply part of her training. She knew a great deal of things from her time as a mercenary. Still, it was nice when he got to show her something as well. On his next order to Almyra, he’d buy her a set of pajamas.
All too soon, they were standing in front of her door. Byleth had refused to move into the archbishop’s living quarters. Knowing that she was just down the hall from him had wreaked havoc on his imagination. Claude ran his fingers through his hair as they turned to face one another.
“I… Sleep well, Teach.”
“You too Claude.” She gave him a gentle smile before slipping inside. Claude swallowed hard and wondered if he should say anything more, but the moment was gone. And he had been the one to say they should both rest. Sighing, he turned towards his own.
“One day…” He spoke to her closed door under his breath. “One day you’ll see me as more than your student.”