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Claude flinches mid-strike, nearly dropping the sword he picked up off a dead Imperial. His eardrums ache as the sky is split with a resounding roar. He forces himself to finish his blow, felling the closest enemy to him before he cranes his neck upward.
The sun is blocked by a massive shadow—a shadow with wings and a wedge-shaped head. It's...a dragon? No, it's the Immaculate One.
Claude steps back into Dimitri, who has been fighting at his side, knocking his lance from his hold as they both stare in awe and terror at the giant beast. Dedue leaps in front of them, stopping an Imperial soldier from taking advantage of their inattention.
Claude shakes himself before he flips Dimitri's lance up into his hand, pressing it back into the prince's lax fingers. He tightens his grip on his sword as another wave of enemies approaches. Once again, he curses himself for dropping his bow, but his quiver was empty and he hadn't been able to scavenge any spare arrows, so he had taken whatever weapon he could find.
Claude keeps one eye on the advancing soldiers and the other on the massive creature. It's on their side, it seems. The fire shooting from its mouth is aimed at the Imperials, not their scattered ranks. And it came from behind them, which can only mean it was in the monastery.
Suddenly, he catches a glimpse of seafoam-green hair sprinting across the field toward the Immaculate One that is now being brought down by a cluster of demonic beasts. Byleth—but she was supposed to be protecting Lady Rhea.
"Teach!" Claude shouts, but the clash of weapons and screams of the wounded drowns out his voice. He tries to chase after her, but he's stopped by a surprisingly strong tug on his arm.
"No." Dimitri has Claude's wrist in a grip so crushing he can feel his bones grinding together. "She ordered us to stay here."
"Let up, Your Royalness." Claude tries to free himself even though he knows Dimitri is right. If he leaves the higher ground and rushes after her, he will be picked off for sure, but it doesn't mean he has to like it. If only he had his wyvern, but he had left his beast in the stables at Byleth's request.
Teach had never truly liked commanding others; she always reminded him that she was just a mercenary, not a tactician, but this time had been different. This time, she realized that she had to take the lead, as reluctant as she was to do so.
"This isn't like any battle we have ever faced," Byleth had told them, her green eyes meeting each one of theirs with a steadfast intensity that made everyone stand up a bit straighter. "We are used to bandits, skirmishes, that sort of thing. This is an invasion from the strongest army in the world. We have to play it safe. I am not a general, but I am asking you to trust me and follow my orders, today of all days."
Everyone had nodded in understanding. She pulled each of them aside in small groups, giving them specific assignments. Claude and Dimitri were the last to be spoken to, with Dedue hovering in the background as always.
"I want you two to stay at the monastery gates. Do not go any further."
"But—" She cuts off Dimitri's protest with a wave of her hand.
"You are both prime hostages. If the Empire captures either one of you, it will be disastrous. They will be looking for you, so no theatrics and no wyvern, Claude. You defend the gate and stay alive."
Dimitri nods brusquely before stalking off, Dedue trailing after him with a concerned look on his face. Claude is left alone with Byleth in the entrance hall. He puts on his signature grin and rolls his shoulders to try and alleviate some of the tension in the air.
"Don't worry about me, Teach, you know I can look out for myself."
"Claude..." Byleth pauses, and it hits him that she's faking her confident air too. Her mask drops for a brief moment, and she looks...terrified. "I know I cannot command you to do anything, but please, try to be careful. I don't know what I will do if I lose you."
"You won't." Claude tries to project confidence in the face of potential disaster. "But I...I'll do as you say. I will stay by the gates. But you need to take care of yourself too, By."
Claude wants to say more; he aches to hold her close, to whisper promises he can't keep into her hair and pray that this all goes away, but he can't. There isn't enough time...there never is.
"Thank you." Byleth clasps his hand, her fingers lacing with his for a brief moment before someone calls her name and they have to pull apart, leaving him with unsaid words coating his tongue like the bitterest coffee.
Dimitri releases Claude's arm, but he steps in front of him, as if to block him with his body. Claude grunts but doesn't argue. He can still see Byleth. She's fighting off the demonic beasts with that fancy sword of hers. Most of them have already turned tail and run. He forces himself to take a deep breath. If anyone can take care of themselves, it's Teach.
"Your Highness." Dedue approaches them, his gaze skittering in Byleth's direction as well before he focuses on Dimitri. "The monastery is almost overrun. Gilbert is calling for us to retreat."
"Retreat?" Claude cuts in. They can't give up. Not when Teach is still out there.
"No," Dimitri growls. "I will not leave until I have that woman's head."
"She is already beyond our reach," Dedue attempts to explain, but he has to pause and cut down another Imperial who gets too close to them. "And we are as good as dead if we stay here much longer."
Claude is barely aware of the two arguing in front of him. His entire attention is focused on Byleth. She has managed to help the Immaculate One; the beasts that didn't escape are crushed by falling debris, but something has caught her attention. She turns just as a blast of dark magic flies in her direction. It's one of those...whatever they are—the same sort of shape-shifting mage as Solon. Claude didn't see him until just now, and it's obvious Teach hadn't either.
"TEACH!" Claude screams so loudly he swears he feels his vocal cords tear, but it's too little, too late.
Byleth is hit dead on, the blow catapulting her backward. Her feet catch on the edge of a massive ravine where the wall of Garreg Mach used to be before the Immaculate One had crashed into it.
Claude can't breathe as he watches her regain her balance. For one long, drawn-out second, it seems she has managed to recover, but then the ground underneath her boots caves in, and she's falling. Her terrified yell is the last thing Claude hears before he's overwhelmed by the thundering of blood in his ears.
He sprints in her direction, uncaring of his own safety or the order to hold his position. He has to reach her. Maybe she caught a ledge or didn't fall as far as it looked. She can't be dead—right?
He gags as his house leader cape suddenly goes tight around his throat. He turns around with a snarl, ready to stab whoever has a hold of him so he can continue his suicidal sprint. But instead of an enemy, he's faced with Dedue.
"Let me go!" he demands—begs. "I have to save her."
"She's gone." Dedue's voice is calm despite the chaos around him. "She told me to make sure you live, and I will not fail her last request."
Claude is so angry that the corners of his vision go red. He wants to scream, to kick, to bite like a child and demand he be allowed to throw away his own life if he chooses. But Byleth wouldn't want that. The one thing she asked of him today was to stay alive. Why did Dedue have to remind him of that?
"Damn it!" Claude groans in defeat, his muscles going lax as he stops resisting.
He lets Dedue usher him up the steps of the monastery. As much as he hates to admit it, the battle is lost. They are moments away from being completely overrun. Even Dimitri is allowing Dedue to herd him from the battle, although he's snarling under his breath about ripping Edelgard's head from her body.
The Immaculate One starts bellowing as Claude reaches the monastery gates. It sounds—mournful somehow. Claude wonders if it's crying out for Byleth, or if the dragon is even capable of emotions. Why had Byleth risked her life to save that beast...what was she thinking? Unless...no. He doesn't have time for theories right now.
Claude has to make sure the rest of his class is safe, he has to get his wyvern, he has to stop thinking about Byleth. He'll come back once night has fallen. He'll find her, or she'll find him. She's survived worse, right?
Claude sends Dedue a quick nod of gratitude before he sprints away in the direction of the stables. He sees Hilda with her wyvern and his in the distance. Most of the Golden Deer are there as well with some form of mounts.
They are waiting for him. He has to be strong; he has to push his emotions down and be the leader they need, not the lovesick boy he actually is.
They barely escape Garreg Mach in time. The Imperials pursue them long into the night. Claude can't find any opportunity to return to the monastery and search for Byleth, so he focuses on the Golden Deer, on keeping them safe.
It takes three days of desperate running and hiding before they lose their Imperial tails. Eventually, they find themselves in Daphnel territory. Once they reach town, Judith will give them safe haven. Claude knows that if he sees the hero of Daphnel, she will read him like a book, so he points everyone in the direction of the city and promises them he will meet them there as soon as he can. Hilda shoots him a skeptical look, but he ignores it as he mounts his wyvern and flies back to Garreg Mach as fast as the wind can carry them.
He has to land in the Sealed Forest to hide his descent. The monastery is crawling with Imperials, not that Claude is surprised. It does seem like the bulk of the army has begun the march back to Enbarr and only a garrison force has been left behind. Still, it doesn't matter if there are ten soldiers or one thousand. Claude is not trying to breach the walls, and if he is quiet and quick, he should be able to make it to the ravine where Teach fell unnoticed.
The short journey takes him a better part of the day. He freezes like a rabbit every time he hears approaching footsteps or a voice carried across the open land, but luckily, no one sounds the alarm.
Claude quickly realizes how futile this entire endeavor is as he approaches the ravine. It is a literal gash in the earth, so dark and deep that he can't see ten paces down. Although Claude remembers the spot where Byleth fell, it is hard to tell if his location is correct in the growing dusk, and he has no tools or way to descend into it without getting himself killed in the process.
With a groan of defeat, Claude forces himself to return to his mount. He can't risk being out in the open much longer, but he will come back with a better plan in mind, he swears it.
Judith nearly rips his ear off when he returns. She chastises him worse than his mother ever has, making sure to emphasize how impulsive and idiotic his actions were. He bows his head and takes the tongue-lashing because he doesn't know how to explain to Judith how important Byleth is, and he can't apologize for something he does not regret.
Eventually, everyone parts ways back to their own territories and homes. Claude and Hilda are the last two to say their goodbyes. They reach Goneril lands first, so Claude leaves Hilda with a promise to see her at the roundtable meeting soon.
Claude doesn't stop to consider the implications of his actions before he turns his wyvern's head toward Garreg Mach for the second time. His grandfather doesn't know when to expect him, and once he is back in Riegan territory, it will be next to impossible to get away, so he throws caution to the wind and lets his heart lead the way.
It has only been two weeks since the monastery was invaded, but it is already much less occupied than it was the last time he was here. Claude once again lands in the forest to conceal his wyvern, knowing it will be a dead giveaway that he is not from Adrestia. With the Imperial uniform he acquired from a dead body and a hood over his head, he is much more confident that he will escape detection.
He makes it to the ravine easily. No one is around, and although he can see torch lights on the monastery walls, he will be invisible to them as long as he doesn't do something stupid.
Claude spends the entire night desperately looking for any sign of his fallen professor. He hasn't been able to think of a good search plan, but he brought ropes and determination. Yet the darkness impedes his movements, and although he is able to descend a short distance into the crevice, he can't see his hand in front of his face.
His stomach flips when he remembers Byleth's expression as she fell, her scream that he hears every time he closes his eyes. He doesn't know how she could still be alive, but he has to have faith. He tries to think of any way he can tell her that he hasn't given up on her, a sign, a symbol, but how will he know where she will come out, if she even does at all...
After hours of fruitless searching with no results, he is forced to leave empty-handed once again, but not before he carves messy moons into the walls of the ravine on the off chance that Byleth will see them and know that he was here.
The war erupts so quickly that it's all Claude can do to keep up with the reports that come in every day. Each missive is worse than the last.
The Kingdom falls within a month. Dimitri is dead—executed for killing his own uncle, supposedly, although none of Claude's spies in the Kingdom were able to verify that claim. He even hears rumors of a blond, blue-eyed man terrorizing the countryside, but once again, he is unable to pin down any concrete leads except a few witnesses swearing it is Dimitri's ghost come back to haunt the lands he was supposed to rule.
A few of the Kingdom lords are still resisting, mainly Gautier and Fraldarius, but they are pinned in the north and fighting a losing battle, or so it seems. A part of Claude wants to send them aid, to see if Sylvain and Felix are still alive, but he has too much on his plate as it is.
Edelgard's influence spreads like wildfire. She's been planning this for years, surely. Claude feels so stupid that he never once caught on, but he has to remind himself that none of them did.
Claude's grandfather dies barely a year into the war. It's not unexpected, but it hits harder than Claude thought it would. They had only just begun to form a relationship, but like most people Claude lets into his heart, they are torn away from him too soon. Claude writes to his mother to let her know the news. His tears make the ink run, and he has to start over three times before the message is legible.
In public, he hides his grief. There is no place for it in the middle of a war, but he aches, no matter how much he tries to stuff the pain down in the place where he buries everything he can't let the world see.
He is lucky to have people there to help hold him together. Hilda is a constant support, as unlikely as that seems, but Claude sees through her act, just like she sees through him. Without her and Judith's assistance, Claude would have buckled under the strain of his new title within the first few days.
He throws himself into his role as Duke, doing everything he can to keep the Alliance together as it fractures under his feet like a thin sheet of ice over a rushing river. It's an impossible task, but he tries, even when Gloucester territory aligns with the Empire and House Ordelia stops responding to missives, he doesn't give up hope...he can't.
Yet everything he does seems to make things worse. In an attempt to stay neutral, the Alliance is tearing apart at the seams. Even if the Empire doesn't attack them, they have become a snake devouring its own tail.
It all boils down to the fact that they will never be able to win a war that they haven't committed to fight. Every day, Claude mulls over whether they should throw in their lot with the Kingdom rebels or perhaps the church. Is it better to take a stand with one of them although he's not sure he believes either side is completely right? There is also a small part of him that understands why Edelgard has decided to wage war, but he can't condone the way she has gone about it, even if her ideals hit closer to home than he would like to admit.
But Claude can't even get the lords of the Alliance to agree on territory lines; how will he get them to band together against the Empire? They need something to fight for, they need a reason to push back against the Imperial army, but right now, all they care about is saving their own skins.
They need Teach. She could lead them. Without her, Claude is floundering.
He's never given up on her. He doesn't think he ever will unless someone can give him irrefutable proof that she is dead. It's been three years now. Her body has surely been swallowed by the earth, but why hasn't he found her bones, her sword...anything? It just doesn't make sense.
Once every few months, he slips away from his responsibilities and flies his wyvern back to the monastery. It's risky and stupid and pointless, but he can't stop. The place is mostly abandoned now, but he still takes care to hide his movements as best as he can, just in case an overeager archer decides to try his luck.
He's attempted scaling the ravine Byleth fell into multiple times, but he's finally admitted it is suicide to keep trying. The edges are sheer, and the few handholds he can find are so sharp they tear through his thickest gloves.
He's flown his wyvern as far down as he can go as well, but eventually the crack is too narrow for its wing beats, and they have to turn back. Now Claude mostly takes to gliding over the last place he saw Byleth fall, calling her name and searching for any sign that she's been here, that she got out, or even some proof of her death, anything that will let him move on.
"TEACH!!!" Claude screams until his voice is hoarse and ragged. "BYLETH!" He's greeted with silence. Of course he is.
He doesn't leave until he can hardly whisper without his throat erupting in pain. Each time it's harder to return to Riegan territory, and each time he swears he will be back.
"Again, Claude?" Hilda stares him down after he returns from his latest excursion to Garreg Mach, her foot tapping out a staccato rhythm as he pretends to mess with something on his wyvern's saddle. He had hoped he would have a bit more time before someone found him, but Hilda is smarter than she lets on, and he knows she's figured out where he's been.
"Would you believe me if I said I was just scouting?" Hilda arches her eyebrow at him and scoffs loudly. "No, didn't think so."
"I get it, Claude, you miss her. We all do, but this is crazy! There is no way she's still alive after four years. You are going to get yourself killed if you keep going back there, either that or kidnapped, and we need you! You can't keep disappearing on us."
She's right...as much as Claude hates to admit it. But he can't stop looking for Teach. It feels akin to admitting defeat.
"You really think she's dead?" Claude asks. He immediately regrets his query; it's too vulnerable, too much like a scared child seeking comfort and not the strong leader he is supposed to be.
"Well...yeah?" Hilda's answer is more like a question than his. "I mean, she has to be, right? Nobody could survive a fall like that."
"But she's...different," Claude argues. He believed Byleth when she told him she had fused with a goddess, but he knows Hilda is a bit skeptical about the whole thing. But more than once, Teach has proven she is something more than human.
"Well, I can't argue with you there, but if she is alive, then where is she? I know you have spies everywhere. Someone would have seen her, or heard if she was captured."
"I know..." Claue sighs, deep and heavy.
"I'm sorry, Claude." Hilda matches his exhale. She throws her arm around his shoulder, tugging him down to her height in a half-embrace. "I know what she meant to you. So if you need to keep searching for her, fine, but at least tell someone so you aren't out there in enemy territory all by yourself."
"Hilda," Claude fakes a gasp, "are you volunteering to go with me? How unlike you."
"Pfft, not me, but somebody." She winks as she pulls away.
Claude forces a laugh and follows her inside. Maybe Hilda is right, he needs to focus on the people who need him now. Teach—if she is alive—can take care of herself...right?
Five years pass in five seconds, or so it seems. Claude doesn't give up on Byleth, but he does honor Hilda's request and takes one of his personal guards with him the next time he returns to the monastery. The guilt at putting another person in danger for a crazy hope dampens his desire to return to Garreg Mach, although he never stops thinking about Byleth.
But this year is when they promised to reunite at the monastery. They swore that no matter what was going on with their lives, they would meet at the millennium festival. If Byleth is alive, Claude knows she will remember that promise.
He tells himself this is the last time he is going to look for her. If Byleth isn't there, he will give up on her, on his dreams, hell—he might even give up on Fódlan entirely. The Alliance fragments more with every day. He's holding it together with the tip of his fingernails, and his grip is slipping.
He lets Nader—Nardel (which Claude thinks is the worst fake name ever, like really, that's the best he could come up with?) know that he might not be back for some time. If Byleth isn't there...well—he wants to be able to mourn her properly.
He sends everyone from the Golden Deer a letter, reminding them of the impending date. He doubts with the way the world is that anyone will come. He hasn't heard from most of them in years. Only Hilda has remained a constant in his life, and Holst had called her back to Goneril territory since their father had suddenly fallen ill. It might just be Claude and his stubborn hopes and dreams, but hasn't it always been that way since the day he was born?
Claude mounts his white wyvern, a gift from Nader for his last birthday, and begins the familiar flight to the monastery. Hilda will surely chastise him when she finds out he went alone once again, but this pilgrimage is too private for company. He made sure to send scouts a week ago who reported the monastery empty and abandoned, as it has been for far too long.
Tears sting at Claude's eyes as he observes the monastery in the faint light of the moon, which he can't convince himself is caused by the biting wind. It looks even worse than the last time he was here. Weeds and crawling vines dominate the once manicured gardens. The entire landscape is dotted with rubble and refuse.
Claude can still close his eyes and recall his student days here, how the cobbled paths looked when they were perfectly preserved, the constant hum of activity, the smells spilling from the dining hall that would carry all the way to the training grounds.
He misses that time; he didn't appreciate it enough until it was snatched away from him, like so many things in his life. He misses everyone, and not just the Golden Deer, but Dimitri, who is dead and gone, Edelgard, who is lost to them, and everyone else he thought he had made lasting friendships with.
So many structures are decaying. Their foundations were damaged when the Immaculate One appeared. The very ground itself had splintered like fragile glass, and now it looks as if five hundred years have ravaged this place instead of five. Claude's gaze alights on the Goddess Tower. It is in disrepair as well, but unlike many of the buildings, it seems structurally sound at least. If he blinks, he's eighteen again, confessing his hopes and dreams to Byleth as they watch the stars together.
His feet start moving in the direction of the tower before he's aware that he's decided to climb it. It's a stupid idea, for all that the building looks intact, it could very well be minutes away from collapse, but he's willing to risk it. At the very least, it will make a good vantage point to observe the grounds; at best, maybe he will find some sign of Byleth there.
He is pleasantly surprised to find the stairs mostly undamaged, and before long, he is at the highest point of the tower. The windows are crumbling, more like jagged maws than structured openings, but they give him the view he was hoping for. The sun is rising as he leans against the east-facing pillar. It would be a beautiful sight if he could ignore the devastation that time and war have done to Garreg Mach.
It stings to remember the wish he made in this same spot five years ago. How naive he had been back then. He truly thought he could unify Fodlan, that his friendship with Dimitri and Edelgard would help forge a future of harmony and respect. How wrong he had been.
He blinks back the familiar sting of tears as the sun reaches his eyes, casting the destruction before him in a golden glow. If he squints, it looks beautiful, it looks...wait a second—there is movement below him. Someone is here after all.
Claude crouches down, although he doubts he is visible from such a high vantage. The person seems to be alone, but they are headed his way. It's hard to tell from here if they are armed or not, but Claude has found it safer to assume that everyone is these days.
He doesn't draw his bow yet. It could be one of the Golden Deer arriving for the Millennium Festival after all, but their features are hidden by the sun at their back. The figure disappears from his sight. They must have entered the Goddess tower. Claude debates about going downstairs and meeting them halfway, but he doesn't want to lose his defensive point if it is indeed an enemy.
Soon enough, he can hear footsteps on the stairs. His heart pounds in anticipation. He loosely strings an arrow; Failnaught's weight still feels odd in his grasp. He doesn't sight a shot yet, but he can do so in half a second. If this is a bandit thinking they are going to catch him by surprise, he will be ready.
But the figure that steps into the growing daylight is not a thief or a cutpurse. No—it's the woman he's been searching for the past five years.
"Teach." The word tears its way out of Claude's chest. It is raw—aching—soaked with five years of agony and loss, but also tinged with hope he's too scared to let himself feel yet.
"Claude...?" Her voice is hoarse, rougher than he remembers, but it is undeniably her.
Claude is moving before he has made a conscious decision to do so. Failnaught falls from his lax grip as he stumbles on stray pieces of rubble and skitters to a halt in front of Byleth. She's soaking wet, wearing the same clothes he last saw her in, but she's here.
He extends his arms, some small part of him terrified that they'll pass through her and this will all be some elaborate hallucination after all. But she's solid, warm, breathing—she's so wonderfully alive. He wraps one arm around her waist and the other tangles in her damp hair, pulling her into his chest as he exhales raggedly.
He's crying. Now, when did that happen? His lungs heave as he draws in air. He presses his face into the crown of Byleth's head. She clutches at him too, her nails digging into his ribs so hard he thinks she'll leave marks. He hopes she does.
Claude's knees buckle as an especially harsh sob rips through him. He doesn't catch himself in time before he hits the ground, Byleth still cradled in his arms. He pulls her tight, as close as he can. He wants to crack open his chest and carve her a space next to his heart, to share the beat with her so she knows what it feels like.
Byleth pushes up on her knees, her palms pressing against Claude's cheeks, and suddenly their lips connect and everything is right with the world again. He kisses back desperately; their teeth clack together, tears spill into the seam of their gums, but it's the best kiss he's ever had.
"You're alive," Claude chokes out when his throat lets him speak again. "I looked for you for so long."
"I...I was sleeping...somehow." Byleth tilts Claude's head with the pressure of her hands against his jaw, her large eyes drinking him in. "It must have been for longer than I thought. You're a man now. I missed you growing up."
"Believe me, I am still a kid at heart." Claude tries to laugh, but it's watery and weak. "And you...you're okay?" He is still struggling to process the fact that she is here, in his arms, talking, breathing—living.
"I am now," she assures him.
Claude can't help but kiss her again. She pushes back against him as the sun drapes them both in warmth and light, and for the first time in five years, Claude looks forward to a new dawn.
He came here to give up on a dream, to let go of his childish hopes and mourn his first love, but instead, he found her. No, she found him. All his other ideals that seemed so far out of reach feel obtainable once again now that he has been reunited with Byleth.
Maybe Claude's desire to unite Fódlan isn't so impossible after all. With Teach at his side, he can do anything.