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bouwrites · 2 years ago

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Those Warm and Halcyon Days: Chapter 29

Dividing the World

Ao3.

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Story under read-more.

“Your Crest gives you enhanced strength, Veery, does it not?”

Veery gives Professor Hanneman a flat look but doesn’t allow his gaze to linger. Watching Marianne is much more interesting. “I don’t know anything about Crests,” Veery says. “That’s your thing.”

Professor Hanneman chuckles good-naturedly. “True enough. Still, though you do not exhibit the kind of strength that one would see from someone with the Crest of Blaiddyd, nor do your attacks bear the force that might be granted by the Crest of Fraldarius, you are quite strong for someone of your size.”

Veery shrugs. “I mean… I guess? I’m stronger when I’m shifted, but I doubt a normal human could beat a regular lion my size in a match of strength, either. And like this I’m not that much stronger than anyone else.”

“Hm.” Professor Hanneman strokes his beard thoughtfully. “Then perhaps Maruice’s Crest achieves that strength through a similar means as your shifting.”

“Directly altering the muscles?” Veery asks. “Sort of a… partial shifting to give her more muscle? Maybe strengthening the bone, too?”

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be possible,” Professor Hanneman says. “We will, of course, need data. As we are this is purely speculation.”

Veery frowns. “I wouldn’t be sure it has anything to do with my Crest. All the other Crests seem to have effects for you humans that I’ve never seen in any agell. I don’t see why Marianne’s would work like mine does, even partially.”

Professor Hanneman nods. “Ordinarily, I would agree with you. But Marianne told me about the taguel, and your theory that she may be a descendant of one.”

“Technically, she’d be taguel herself,” Veery says, crossing his arms. “Though I guess it’s probably so far that if she wanted to call herself human then she can get away with it. It depends on if she can shift, really. No denying it after that, one way or another.”

“If she is indeed capable of shifting as you do, she would need Maurice’s Relic, Blutgang. The Crest Stone matching her Crest is likely a requirement. That said, given the rumors of Maruice’s Crest turning its bearers into beasts even without the Relic, it’s possible that the Crest Stone is less a requirement than a stabilizer, making the transformation safe and at will as yours is.” Professor Hanneman hums. “Either way, if the transformation is possible at all, it would imply that her Crest functions in a similar way as yours – by physically transforming the body.”

Veery purses his lips, watching as Marianne slashes once again at a training dummy with her sword. “I can’t argue with that. I don’t have the faintest idea what would happen if I tried shifting without my heart.” He sighs. “…I mean, I’d be dead without my heart, so that’s a moot point, but you get what I mean.”

“Indeed.”

As Veery and Professor Hanneman fall quiet, simply observing, Professor Byleth corrects Marianne’s form. Marianne blushes, and furrows her brow, but quickly makes the adjustments and tries again.

Veery naturally knows next to nothing about swordplay, but even so Leonie’s words to him way back when he first arrives in Garreg Mach still hold water. There are principles that carry over no matter how one fights, and though Veery can’t comment on Marianne’s grip or use of the blade, he can watch her balance, posture, and stance, among other things. (Not for the first time, he wonders how humans keep their balance without tails – though to those who grow up without them in the first place, perhaps adding a tail would throw them more off-balance.)

It shouldn’t be surprising that Marianne isn’t really that bad with a sword. Though primarily a healer, it’s not as if she doesn’t see combat fairly regularly, and she is still trained by Professor Byleth, so that her fundamentals are all solid is expected.

Of course, with her ability to heal from a distance, something Veery definitely lacks, and her affinity with animals, Professor Byleth is considering putting her on a horse, so though Veery doesn’t usually observe even the Golden Deer’s practice when he’s not participating himself (and thus doesn’t often see the shyer students like Marianne working on weapon skills) he imagines she has at least some experience with lances. Maybe even swords as well.

Actually, Veery has no idea how far Professor Byleth and Marianne are with that horse plan. That might already be in motion. Though, at this point in the year, Marianne likely won’t be on the level of the likes of Leonie or Lorenz before graduation.

“My, is that Hilda?” Professor Hanneman says suddenly, drawing Veery’s attention to the girl approaching Professor Byleth and Marianne. “Coming willingly to the training grounds? If we’ve not already had a divine intervention, I’d suspect a miracle.”

Veery snorts. “Isn’t that kind of rude to say about a student?”

“Oh perhaps,” Professor Hanneman chuckles. “But I do sincerely doubt Hilda herself would disagree.”

“…Yeah, probably.”

Veery’s ear twitches as he focuses on the conversation. Something about Fódlan’s Throat and the Almyrans beyond it. That already catches Veery’s attention. Are they going to Fódlan’s Throat? Can they see Almyra from there? Ordinarily, Veery will happily sit out of these little excursion missions – like when the class went out to Gloucester territory to do the duke’s job for him (though, that was when Veery was injured, so no one actually asked him to come anyway), but the opportunity to get a glimpse of Almyra is certainly tempting.

Then Cyril, who is cleaning some training weapons nearby, actually puts his work down to insert himself into the conversation. Veery still doesn’t know Cyril that well, but that’s more of a miracle than Hilda coming to the training ground in the first place in his mind.

“…I got captured in a battle at the Locket, and that's how I ended up here. So, I’m kind of worried that other kids who lose their folks might not be so lucky.”

Veery hears this and immediately starts making his way closer to the conversation. Eavesdropping is fine and all, but Cyril wants to go to the Throat to look out for orphaned children? Because House Goneril apparently takes them as servants and don’t treat them well?

This is the first Veery hears about such practices. Cyril uses the word servant, but Veery has a hard time believing that the children of the Goneril’s defeated enemies are anything but slaves. He doesn’t suspect it, because Hilda is overall a nice – if manipulative and occasionally frightening – girl who, for all her faults, definitely values everyone equally (there is a reason Claude likes her so much, and it’s not just for the banter), but even so…

There’s not much that Veery won’t accept humans to be capable of. Frankly, he thinks some agell are capable of forcing humans into slavery; it’s even easier to imagine the opposite.

“Can I come, too?” Veery asks, looking to Hilda.

Hilda actually raises her brow, looking at him with the same incredulity of someone looking at her offering to work. “You actually want to?” Hilda asks. “You always complain about being dragged into our missions.”

Veery shrugs. It’s the orphaned children being forced into slavery that really gives him the incentive, but Veery thinks it’s probably wise to keep that to himself directly in front of Hilda – at least until he actually sees the situation for himself. “Honestly, I’ve pretty much accepted that I’m a Deer at this point. And I want to see the Throat. Can you see Almyra from there?”

“It’s a mountain range,” Cyril says bluntly. “If you get on the other side of the mountain, then sure you can.”

“Neat.” Veery grins. “I want to see Almyra.” Despite his primary motivation, he isn’t lying. Going willingly into a battle isn’t his style, but this is a rare opportunity to see the Almyrans. Aside from Cyril and the occasional straggler in Abyss, Veery doesn’t know any Almyrans, and he knows next to nothing about them, so he’s naturally curious.

“Well that’s a relief!” Hilda coos. “The more strong allies that come with us, the safer we’ll all be.”

Fódlan’s Throat is… beautiful. Veery can’t contain his grin as he takes in the mountains.

It’s rocky – rockier than Garreg Mach, which is almost entirely lush except around Zanado – in that kind of craggy, precipitous drop kind of way, but there is still a lot of greenery growing on the spires and plateaus of rock. The terrain itself, rocky and precipitous, is like home to Veery, though he admittedly does tend to spend most of his time in Albinea on the shallower base of the mountains where the forest and food is, but the environment beyond that is like something out of a storybook.

It’s warmer this far east, though in the middle of winter it isn’t hot even for Veery, and the gnarled trees growing straight out of vertical rock are strange and alien to Veery. It’s magical how things seem to defy gravity here.

Fódlan’s Locket is almost as awesome as Garreg Mach, a proud, towering wall stretching across the mountains, and when Veery is led up to the top of the Locket, he can look out over the parapets directly into Almyra.

Which is… well, mostly brown. But no less impressive for it! Veery feels like he can see forever with how far the land stretches out before him. Mottled brown, tan, and patches of dull green make up the flatland on the other side of the mountains, the colors all blending together from the distance into a story that tells just a fraction of how vast Almyra is.

“Enjoying the view?”

Veery grins back at Claude, who approaches him on the wall. “Yes!” he exclaims eagerly. “Oh, how fun it would be to run out there…” He turns his gaze back to Almyra, enjoying the wind at his back and imagining simply sprinting through those Almyran plains.

No reason, no destination, just running off into the plains. Veery closes his eyes and feels a faint, hazy memory of flying, soaring endlessly simply because he can. It’s hard to remember, but he knows it’s the dream, the memory, that Sothis gives him after the Sealed Forest. Veery can’t fly and can’t pretend he particularly wants to (he’s used to unsteady terrain, being mountain-born, but he still likes the feeling of solid ground beneath his feet), but the feeling of freedom, of his own power bringing him wherever he pleases, is a hard one to forget, even if he knows it only from a dream.

It’s not so different, Veery suspects, with such a vast expanse of flat, welcoming land in front of him, to run those plains as it is to soar through the sky.

Claude chuckles. “Almyra is certainly different, isn’t it? And this is just a fraction of it. I wish you could see the cities.”

Veery shakes his head. “I’ll take the plains, thanks. You just really want to drag me into civilization, don’t you?”

“What can I say?” Claude says, smiling but doing his best to pout. “I’ll miss you if you’re all alone in the middle of nowhere.”

Veery giggles and nudges Claude affectionately. “I’ll miss you, too. That doesn’t mean I can put up with somewhere like Garreg Mach forever. Maybe you should just join me out in the wilds.”

Claude snorts. “Part of me wishes I could.” He sighs, shaking his head. “But I’ve got responsibilities, and a dream to fulfil.”

“Responsibilities.” Veery rolls his eyes. “All the more reason to live alone. I don’t have any of those.”

“Ha! You’re just a hermit version of Hilda, then?”

“At least we’re honest about being lazy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Claude gasps in mock offense. “I’ll have you know that I am utterly irresponsible.”

“Then run away with me into Almyra,” Veery teases.

Claude smiles, but it quickly turns strained. Veery frowns, wondering what’s wrong, but Claude just fixes his expression into a more relaxed smile – even now, if Veery doesn’t witness his expression change like that, he might mistake it for an honest smile. “Hey, I haven’t told you, yet, but…” Claude starts.

Veery’s ear twitches, picking up on another sound that quickly distracts him from whatever Claude is concerned about. “Sorry, wait,” Veery says quickly silencing Claude, who immediately falls into duty-mode to handle whatever this is as seriously as his position demands. Veery listens. There it is again. “Wyverns,” Veery says.

Claude curses. “The attack is expected to come today,” he mutters. “Let’s go find Hilda and Holst.”

Holst is sick, apparently. Veery doesn’t get the chance to see him, but if he’s bedridden, then no matter what ails him, curing it now won’t have him up and in fighting shape for the battle. Which is now. That means that Hilda, being the only Goneril remaining in any state to fight, is the de facto general.

Hilda.

She is, admittedly, good at telling people what to do, but Veery wouldn’t necessarily peg her as the general type all the same. That being said, she quickly convenes with Claude and Professor Byleth and comes up with a plan which makes Veery feel a little better about Hilda being in charge here.

Of course, Fódlan’s Locket is an impressive fortress, so their side has an advantage anyway. Still, Cyril, Veery, Claude, and Marianne take a hidden path through the mountains to flank the Almyrans as they approach the Locket just to be sure.

Part of Veery is very much not happy that he’s in the thick of the fighting again – though he has to admit that this time, he quite literally asks for it – but another part is actually relieved that he gets to just be a brawler.

Fighting as a healer, or a hybrid, as he typically does, is technically safer – at least now that he can cast while shifted, anyway – but it’ll never be his comfort zone. He’s a cat. Ripping and tearing with his claws is just the way he’s supposed to fight. Magic helps but standing around on a battlefield healing just makes him feel like a sitting duck.

Besides, Veery doesn’t think it’ll be this satisfying to take down a wyvern with just his claws and teeth. There are no wyverns in Albinea, and until now Veery doesn’t face them in battle. Which is a good thing, because wyverns are undoubtedly terrifying predators. All the same, that just means that when it comes down to it and Veery leaps up, digs his claws into a wyvern’s belly, catches its throat in his jaws and manages to get a kick off that shreds part of its wing, and then somehow manages to land with just a tumble and some scratches as he brings the beast down to the earth really scratches at Veery’s pride.

Who’s the top predator now, you overgrown chicken?

As stupid as it is to engage something so large and deadly, Veery is lying massively if he pretends that he doesn’t always get a kick out of surpassing the challenge. Like when he takes down a moose.

In hindsight, Veery is quite sure that he would not be able to take down a war wyvern on his own before Professor Byleth and Leonie and the others start dragging him into training all those months ago. He wouldn’t even consider pulling a stunt like he does here, because he would know that there is no world in which he succeeds, but he supposes that even he improves his martial skills in his time at Garreg Mach.

Marianne chides him for being reckless, which is frankly hilarious, and would baffle the Veery from six months ago, but he really does have the situation under control. Marianne knows him well enough by now to know that while he’s a lot of things, reckless is most certainly not one of those.

Although, with how efficiently Claude and Cyril ground wyverns, Veery does admit that he’s probably better off focusing on the enemies they find on solid ground. In his defense, that wyvern swoops at him, so it kind of deserves it.

Regardless, most of their fight is Claude and Cyril working scarily efficiently to fend off the vast majority of the Almyrans they come across, Veery sniffing out enemies and eliminating anyone who gets too close, and Marianne either healing or shooting fur-raising Thoron spells with the levin sword that Professor Byleth gives her.

It’s nothing any of them aren’t familiar with, frankly. Still, it’s only after the battle is over, when he rejoins everyone else at the Locket, and the chaos of the fight starts to settle that Veery realizes that this isn’t a very impressive invasion force.

Sure, there are quite a few wyverns and the Almyrans are definitely fierce fighters, but this is more of a skirmish than a border war. Veery doesn’t think there’s many more people than Miklan had in Conand Tower, and that was a single bandit gang. He’s not an expert on war or anything, but he’s pretty sure that taking a fortress like the Locket calls for a much more significant showing.

“They aren’t really trying to cross Fódlan’s Throat. I'm not saying they’re not serious, but fights like this one aren’t really invasions.” Cyril says to Professor Byleth.

That explains this battle, then. Cyril explains more, about how it’s just to show off how tough they are and have an excuse to feast, and Veery can’t help but agree that it’s a stupid reason to fight and get people killed.

Veery has his pride. He even has pride as a warrior. Or… hunter, at least. Even just in this battle, the satisfaction of taking down a wyvern with his own strength is something that’ll stick with him and stroke his ego for a while. Even so, pride is no reason to lead people to their deaths, nor to seek out one’s own.

That said, Albineans aren’t much better in that regard. They’re always fighting. They don’t necessarily kill each other, but Veery highly suspects that that’s mostly just because Albinea itself does enough killing. He does hear that Albineans further to the west don’t get along with the ones in the east, though, so maybe there’s even fighting there, but Veery himself usually is too far north to hear about human squabbles, so that’s just rumor.

The brawls he does see, though… It almost makes him want to laugh. Back then, he can only think about how violent these humans are but looking back now… he thinks it’s mostly just posturing and fun. Just like how Leonie and Felix love sparring so much, those Albineans love a good brawl.

So, he tries not to judge the Almyrans for liking to fight. He disapproves of throwing themselves at Fódlan’s Locket, killing Almyrans and Fódlanders alike just for the sake of their fighting culture, but he doesn’t judge them for liking to fight.

He hopes that wyvern will be okay. Veery tries his best not to kill, even though he isn’t under orders not to, and for the most part in the battle the Almyrans seem content to admit loss when they are clearly bested, so he doesn’t like the idea of that wyvern actually dying from this skirmish.

Wyverns are cool. It’d be a shame to die here for such a stupid reason.

“I’m going to drop by my family’s estate and complain to my brother a bit,” Hilda says. “It’s up to you if we spend the night here at the fortress or not, Professor, but I, for one, vote to have comfortable beds.”

Professor Byleth frowns. “Lady Rhea isn’t happy that Veery and I left the monastery at all. We should probably get back as soon as we can.”

“Or we can have baths and beds tonight,” Claude says, smiling teasingly.

Professor Byleth closes her eyes, nodding seriously. “Good point. We’ll stay the night. You’ve all earned the rest, and we’ll be back in time for the revelation either way.”

“That’s the spirit, Teach!”

Veery scoots a little closer to Hilda, who is already preparing to leave the Locket behind her. There are a couple things on his mind, and both lie at the Goneril estate, so it won’t do for him to sit here at the Locket while Hilda goes off alone. “Uh… hey.”

“Hm? Oh, Veery! How can I help you?” Hilda coos sweetly.

“Your brother isn’t here because he’s sick, right?” Veery asks, sticking to the safer of the two things he’s concerned about. “Should… I go see him?”

“Aw.” Hilda grins. “That’s a great idea! Thank you so much for thinking of him. I’d really appreciate it if you could take a look at him. I’m sure it’s nothing serious, but I really can’t risk losing my brother. Without him, guarding this fortress would be my job!”

“And that would be a travesty,” Veery chuckles, only half-joking. Hilda will step up to the plate if she has to, Veery knows, but… serious border general is no more Hilda’s cup of tea than it is Sylvain’s. Then again, if Hilda pulls a Sylvian and tries to negotiate peace with Almyra, then maybe this should be her job. “Well, just take me to him and I’ll do what I can. If he’s willing to let me, anyway.”

Hilda screws up her face. “Don’t worry about that. Holst isn’t… well, you won’t have any problems with him. Except, maybe you might have to fend off his offers to fight you…”

“I’ll just aim him at Professor Byleth,” Veery says. “She’ll fight him.”

“Hah! Oh, I’d love to see that. We might have to be careful that Holst doesn’t fall in love, though. A beautiful woman who can kick his ass? Geez, maybe I shouldn’t have offered to let you guys stay the night so close.”

Veery snickers. “Don’t worry. If he’s bedridden right now, then even if I can do something to help him, he’s not going to be fighting by tomorrow morning. Doctor’s orders.”

“I wish that would work.” Hilda sighs. “My brother is brilliant, but…”

“Yeah, I really don’t understand that thing you humans do where you don’t listen to the people trying to keep you alive.” Veery giggles. “But apparently it’s so common that Professor Manuela has to lead several seminars specifically on that alone.”

“I wish I could say otherwise, but… Holst is enough of an idiot that you might have to worry about that. I’m sorry in advance for any trouble he causes.”

Veery just shrugs. “Hey, it’s not my health.”

Hilda giggles. “Anyway, come on! I’ll take you to him right away.” She eagerly grabs Veery’s arm and starts dragging him along, calling back to the professor in the meanwhile, “I’m taking Veery with me! We’ll be back soon, maybe! Definitely in the morning!”

“By dinner!” Professor Byleth calls.

“Probably!”

“Hey!” Claude exclaims, hurrying to catch up to them as Hilda drags Veeery out of the room. “Veery’s mine! You can’t just kidnap him!”

“Veery’s going to take a look at Holst, dummy.” Hilda rolls her eyes. “I’m not taking your boyfriend.”

Even hurrying through the halls as they are, Claude does his absolute best to look like he’s pouting. “But I wanted to talk to him.”

“You can talk after dinner,” Hilda says, sticking her tongue out. “But you’re more than welcome to come along, if you want to deal with my sick brother…”

Claude makes a face, deliberates, and then stops following them. “Alright, you win. I’ll see you both at dinner!”

“Bye-bye, Claude!”

Veery just chuckles at the two and waves to Claude himself. The next thing he knows, Hilda and he are on their way to the nearby Goneril estate.

Veery doesn’t know exactly what he expects from the estate. Frankly, he’s never been in anything that can be called an “estate” in his life, so he doesn’t have any frame of reference for it, much less one in the far east edge of Fódlan.

It’s… basically a miniature Garreg Mach, really. There’s no obvious chapel, but beyond that, there are stables, a training ground, several buildings with one in the end being obviously grander, all walled off. Put it on top of a mountain – which it is – and the only major difference is the Goneril Crest and Leicester Flag emblazoned everywhere rather than Seiros’.

Actually, Veery thinks he likes the atmosphere here more than Garreg Mach. It’s smaller, but less crowded – most of the troops, he figures, are at the Locket rather than the estate. It’s humbler, but that just means he doesn’t need a month of living there to figure out where anything is. Plus, despite it being warmer, it’s so pretty here!

The warmer clime means that plants flourish. Though the forests around Garreg Mach are evergreen (which admittedly still astounds Veery – the trees in Albinea are “evergreen” too, but they’re usually so covered in snow at this time of year that there isn’t much green to see) and Goneril is notably more rocky and objectively less green overall, it plays to the land’s benefit. What grows here, in this rocky, dry mountain, stands out much more than what grows in Garreg Mach, and even now it’s warm enough that there are outdoor gardens full of colorful flowers.

Veery isn’t sure he’s ever seen some of those colors before.

Gods, it’s like his first day at Garreg Mach all over again, just gawking and marveling at every little thing, except he’s with a friend and not quite so scared. Hilda giggles good-naturedly and encourages him, though, telling him patiently about everything that catches his eye, so it’s not entirely his own fault.

And the people… he gets some questioning looks but being led by the arm by Hilda silences any concern. He overhears chatter, people talking about who that is with Lady Hilda. The words “cat saint” are thrown around a few times, which Veery tries very hard not to cringe at, but overall people just kind of accept that Hilda’s in charge of him and don’t pay him much mind.

Well, one person prays that Veery isn’t some suitor Hilda picks up in her time away, and frankly that’s a fair enough lament that Veery can’t find it in himself to feel insulted. He likes Hilda well enough, but even if the idea of marriage didn’t still confuse Veery massively… him and Hilda? Nothing would ever be done. Both of them are far too lazy, and he’ll openly admit that he would definitely enable her.

Veery is more than willing to do things if he’s asked (politely), but he’s sort of like Linhardt in that if it’s not something that interests him, he’s not going to just get up and do it. He just… doesn’t have that kind of sense of duty.

Not to mention that he is vastly underqualified to have any sort of power over anyone. That, and he doesn’t want power, because power means people relying on him and people relying on him means people, and he really just wants to live alone in the mountains without people constantly nagging him.

Anyway, he’s being led through the hallways of the main house – Hilda’s home, apparently – listening to her chatter and keeping an eye on any servants he can see when he realizes that he has absolutely no idea how to identify an Almyran.

So, the plan of looking into the Almyran slave thing subtly goes out the window if he doesn’t even know what an Almyran looks like. He knows what Cyril looks like, and he sees a few faces during the battle earlier, but… well, to Veery, they just look human. Cyril doesn’t look that much different from Claude, and aside from colors and tones, Claude doesn’t look that much different from Hilda.

Obviously each one looks unique, with their own features, like them, but Veery honestly has no idea what to look for that will set apart an Almyran from a Fódlander. How is he supposed to tell what an Almyran looks like when Fódlanders look like everything from Hilda to Raphael? He can’t even begin to guess at features that mark Fódlanders, and he’s been living here surrounded by them for months.

Well, that’s a lack of foresight. He’s at Holst’s door, though, so he figures it’s a concern to get back to when he no longer has a patient on his hands.

“Holst! I’m back!” Hilda cheers loudly, prompting a groan from within the room. “And I brought a friend!”

The responding voice is clearly weak, which makes Veery frown, but Holst still does everything he can to greet his sister enthusiastically.

Veery follows Hilda into the room, slipping in and closing the door behind him, carefully eyeing his prospective patient. Honestly, Flayn and Marianne are better healers than him, so yes, he offers, but he really thinks one of them should be here considering this is a noble, but he can only sigh and take the situation as it is.

Holst, though large and muscular (much like Raphael, or any Albinean), is pale and haggard. There’s a sheen over his brow, and some of his pink hair is damp and plastered to his skin. Clearly ailing, and in pain, Holst tries to sit up, eagerly grinning through whatever he’s feeling to welcome his beloved sister.

“Oh, lay down, Holst. You’re sick!” Hilda chides him. “My friend here is a healer, who generously offered to come take a look at you.”

Holst laughs good-naturedly, forcing himself into a sitting position regardless of Hilda’s words, and glancing over to Veery. “My Hilda writes about you all the time. It’s a pleasure to finally meet the famous cat saint.”

Veery doesn’t bother to stop himself from cringing this time. With only Hilda and Holst, and him not eavesdropping to hear the words, he doesn’t see the need to. “I’m a cat,” he sighs, “but I’m not a saint.”

Holst laughs, quickly wincing and clutching his stomach when he does so. “Well, it’s an honor all the same,” he says. With a stroke of his beard, he adds, “If the rumors are true, the goddess herself gave you her power.”

“Loaned,” Veery says. “Or, rather, allowed me to use. I’m no more powerful now than I was before she intervened.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, as great as it is to meet Hilda’s famous brother, you’re sick. Do you mind if I look you over? See what I can do for you?”

“Not at all! That’d be appreciated.” Holst chuckles, still smiling the day away despite clearly being in a lot of pain. “Though, we do have our own healers. But rumor is you can heal anything.”

Veery makes a face. “Far from it. Honestly, I’m the most inexperienced of the three in the Deer.” Hilda makes a squealing sound, prompting Veery to correct himself. “If you count me as a Deer, which I’m technically not.”

“You admitted it!” Hilda cheers.

“I admitted it before we left.”

“Yeah, grudgingly,” Hilda huffs. “It’s about time you just called yourself one of us.”

“Has my sister been giving you a hard time?” Holst asks, eyes dancing with humor.

Veery shrugs, moving to examine Holst with his magic. “Not any harder than she gives everyone. Do you know how you got sick? Something you ate? Or just a random illness?”

“Ah.” Holst blushes, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “I… might have eaten a weird mushroom. I think that’s what caused it.”

“You what?” Hilda shrieks. Veery just closes his eyes. “You just found a weird mushroom and decided to eat it? Right before a battle?”

Holst visibly deflates, finally letting the illness make him look anything but chipper. “Hilda! I didn’t think it would-”

“Don’t eat weird plants you can’t identify is, like, the first thing Teach taught us in class!”

“Sounds like a smart lady.”

“Holst, you complete idiot!” Hilda groans.

Veery awkwardly clears his throat. “Um… what did the mushroom look like?”

Holst brightens again without Hilda criticizing him. “Oh, well, it was about… this big, and had a really pretty pink top. Pink! That’s why I picked it up.”

“Pink…” Veery mutters. “Sweating, stomach pain… muscle pain?” Holst nods. “Right.” Veery is pretty sure Claude poisons himself with that last month. “I should be able to get the toxin out of your system, but you’re still going to have to rest for a while as your body realizes there’s no more threat. Hold still.”

Veery purses his lips, tail swaying as he concentrates on using his Restore spell. Restore is… complicated. Veery only learns it because of the incident at Remire, and the resulting lessons on poisons and dark magic ailments, and then Veery’s subsequent discovery of how Claude likes to test his experimental poisons.

Honestly, thanks to Claude, this might be the one aspect of healing that Veery is actually better at than Marianne. Still, it requires focus and patience to fully clear someone of toxins. A quick-fix to ward off symptoms in the middle of combat, applied right after (or before) the poisoning, is easy enough, but that’s very different from meticulously purging toxins from someone’s whole body.

Holst whistles. “Woah, you really can just cure me, huh? I guess I shouldn’t have doubted. Seems like the rumors are more right about you than you give yourself credit for.”

“No,” Veery says patiently. “They’re really not.”

“They are, though!” Hilda says, traitorously. “You should have seen him on the battlefield, Holst. He took down a whole wyvern! Just jumped on it as it was diving at him and brought it to the ground.”

“Ha! That’s gutsy. I like it! You transform into a big cat to fight, right? We should spar sometime!”

Veery glares at Hilda. She makes no attempt to pretend she doesn’t do that on purpose. “I don’t like fighting,” Veery says. “And we’ll be gone by the time you’re in any shape to fight, anyway.”

“Aw.” Holst pouts. “Then you’ll just have to come back to visit sometime! And bring your professor next time, too. From Hilda’s letters, I can’t wait to spar with her.”

Veery glances to Hilda. “It sounds like she writes a lot about us.”

“Oh, yeah! She really likes you guys. I really wish I could have come out and fought along with you and thank you all personally for taking care of my sister.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Veery says, narrowing his eyes at Hilda, who quickly realizes what’s happening and subtly gestures for him to shut up. “You won’t be able to fight, but if you rest today and sleep it off, you should be able to come out to the Locket in the morning to see everyone off if you want. Professor Byleth especially is so proud of Hilda, I’m sure she’d love to talk to you about her progress this year.”

Hilda audibly gasps. “You didn’t…”

“That’s a great idea!” Holst exclaims. “I can’t wait to finally meet this fabled professor! But Hilda never mentions much about her own progress at the academy. Still, it’s no surprise that her professor sees just how wonderful and talented my brilliant little sister is.”

“Veery,” Hilda growls into his ear. “You’ll pay for this.”

Veery raises his brow at her. “Oh, definitely,” he says, pointedly, to Holst. “In fact, she told me just earlier how proud she was of Hilda for taking charge at the Locket today. She led your troops to victory in today’s attack, you know. Our professor’s role there was as just another soldier.”

“Should I blame Sylvain, Claude, or myself?” Hilda sighs. “Who taught you to do this?”

Holst practically jumps out of his seat, forcing Veery to chastise him and hold him still even as he rambles praises that has Veery grinning and Hilda blushing under her brother’s unrestrained affection. “It’s all three of you that taught me.” Veery mutters just for her. “But I’m glad to see you’re taking responsibility, at least.”

“You’re the worst.”

“You’re blushing.”

“Shut up!”

Veery has to admit, he’s kind of smug when he sits down to dinner with Hilda and Claude and the others. Every time Hilda gives him the stink-eye, Veery can’t help but grin back.

Claude watches this exchange through the evening, staying quiet but obviously amused, though Hilda quickly gives up on pouting in favor of enjoying the meal with her classmates. It’s only when Claude grabs Veery’s arm after dinner and drags him and Hilda into a quiet, isolated place that Veery remembers there is something Claude wants to tell him. Something he almost says up on the top of the Locket, just before the Almyrans arrived.

“What happened between you two?” Claude asks, breaking the quiet that falls between them.

“Cruel and unusual punishment,” Hilda says.

“Payback,” Veery answers.

Claude raises his brow.

“I blame you, Claude. Veery’s too good at manipulating people now.”

Veery snorts loudly. “No, your brother is just easy.”

Hilda groaned, sounding almost pained. “I wish I could argue with that…”

Claude shakes his head. “What happened, exactly?”

“I might’ve praised Veery in front of my brother,” Hilda says. “But only because he was being so darn modest! And then he decides to get back at me by praising me, knowing full well that my brother won’t shut up with the praises when I’m involved. Holst is even going to meet us tomorrow before we leave to…” She gags dramatically on her words. “Talk to Teach about my progress. He’s going to be insufferable for years after this!”

“You made him want to fight me!” Veery complains. “You knew what you were doing, too!”

“Graduation is so soon! You might not ever even come back to Goneril, but I’m going to have to live with him!”

“He’s your brother!”

Claude bursts out laughing, swiftly bringing Veery and Hilda’s complaining to an end. “Well, it’s good to see you two getting along. For a while there I was worried you weren’t friends.”

Hilda protests. “What? Of course, Veery is my friend!”

Veery, however, just makes a strained groaning sound. “It’s not that I don’t like her…” he says. “She’s just hard to keep up with most of the time.”

“Excuse me?”

“Claude slows down for me. You just go and go and I have trouble following, sometimes. Today wasn’t bad, but… sometimes I have no idea what you’re talking about. You talk fast and don’t leave time for me to think and process and I get left behind a bit.”

Hilda’s eyes go wide. “Oh! Oh, I should have realized. That was so stupid of me. I’m so sorry. I never meant to overwhelm you like that.”

Veery chuckles. “I know. I know you just get excited. But Claude thinking we weren’t friends might’ve come from me avoiding you from time to time. I’m still not great with people, and you’re… a little more to deal with than most people.”

Hilda makes a show of pouting, but still sighs. “I understand. Don’t be afraid of just telling me I’m being too much, alright? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Hah. Right. I’ll remember that. I might do that now, but before…” He shrugs. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. Point being, we’re definitely friends now, right?”

“Of course!” Hilda coos. “Does this mean I get to pet you?”

“Not a chance.”

“Aw, boo.”

Claude chuckles. “I could watch you two all day, but I did want to talk to you about something.”

Oh. Right. It’s too easy to get carried away with Hilda, honestly, now that Veery is a little more capable of keeping up with her. On good days, anyway, when he’s feeling more sociable. Hilda and he both turn their attention obediently back to Claude. “What is it that we need to sneak off to talk about?” Hilda asks.

Claude bites his lip, a rare show of uncertainty. “Hilda… first, I wanted to ask you about what Cyril says about Almyran children being mistreated by the Gonerils.”

Oh. It looks like Veery doesn’t have to ask about that after all. Good. That makes things easier.

Hilda’s expression immediately darkens. “It’s true that we take in orphaned kids if we find them.” Hilda sighs heavily. “I know for a fact that my brother has never mistreated anyone, but… I can’t say for certain that it’s entirely stopped. To be honest, Claude, I’ve been writing to my brother about that for a while now. He’s doing what he can for them, but… prejudices are hard to overcome, and my brother is just one person. He doesn’t always know when cousins or heads of staff or anyone else like that decides to take out their frustrations on the Almyrans in the estate. And my father is… more traditional than my brother, too. Not beyond reasoning with, but… progress comes slower with him.”

Claude blinks. “You’ve… already been writing to your family about that?”

“Of course!” Hilda frowns. “Before I came to the academy, I admit I had some pretty terrible opinions of the Almyrans myself. I didn’t think twice about the mistreatment, or even the servitude in the first place, because that’s just how I was raised.” She looks over to Veery. “But then I met you, and Veery, and Cyril, Dedue, Petra, and I… well, it took a while, but I started thinking, and looking back at life here, and realized there are some things that need to be changed. I don’t like to work, but my brother listens to me, and I can at least talk with him about it through letters for a while.”

Hilda sighs again, looking affectionately at the both of them. “You two both want a world where there aren’t any walls like that between people, right? Where people are free to be different and still respected. Me, I just want to live freely, with nothing tying me down. I want to do things my way, and no one else’s, so… I really respect your dream, you know? I think I can live my way in the world you two create, so that’s enough reason for me to support you.”

Claude, openly dumbstruck, smiles. “Hilda…”

Hilda flashes a cheeky grin. “And my way of life doesn’t involve stupid prejudices. So, I’ll be relying on you to help me keep fixing my own, okay? And in return, I’ll do my part to help you make your dream a reality. Starting right here in Goneril with the Almyrans. I’ve even been talking to Sylvain recently about how he’s planning on making peace with Sreng. I’m hoping my brother can pull off something similar here, too, and I won’t have to worry about inheriting a guard post anymore.”

“Ha.” Claude shakes his head. “Wow. You really knew exactly what I was going to say, didn’t you?”

“That’s my job, silly!” Hilda giggles. “I’m your second-in-command, aren’t I? What kind of deputy would I be if I couldn’t even figure out my leader’s intentions?”

“You really are amazing, Hilda,” Claude says. “Thank you. Your support means a lot to me.”

“Don’t look so surprised, dummy. You’re my friend and house leader. Besides that, your dream is worth following.”

Claude grabs her and pulls her, yelping, into a tight hug. Veery smiles watching them. “No, seriously,” Claude mutters. “Thank you.” He releases her, the surprise finally wearing off to allow the insecurity return to his features. “I’m… not used to having support, honestly. I didn’t really trust that I’d get any allies from my time at Garreg Mach, but somehow I got you two.”

He looks down, away, and then sighs. “I want to trust you both. Hilda… I think you might have already figured it out, but I know Veery hasn’t. I… It’s hard to trust anyone like this…”

“I know,” Veery says gently. “Trust is… hard.” Whatever it is that Claude is hiding, Veery definitely knows the feeling he’s describing. Wanting to trust someone, hoping that your faith isn’t misplaced, stepping forward into doubt, even certain failure and betrayal, on the mere chance that his fears will prove unfounded and everything will be okay. It’s the story of Veery’s entire time in Fódlan.

Claude smiles. “I know you do. You… really, really do. Gods…” He shakes his head. “Anyway, my big secret… I’m Almyran. Half, obviously. The Crest comes from my mom.”

Claude is Almyran? Veery blinks. “…Okay?” He tilts his head, wondering just what exactly the big deal is.

Hilda sighs. “Yeah, I guessed as much. I’m sorry, Claude, I said some really stupid things around you. I’m surprised you trust me at all, considering that.”

“I didn’t, for a while,” Claude admits. “But I noticed your attitude change. You stopped talking about other groups of people thoughtlessly. I did what I could to encourage that change – honestly seeing it for myself is probably why I trust you as much as I do.”

Veery bites his lip. “I think something got lost here,” he says. “What’s the big deal about being Almyran?”

Claude raises his brow. “Oh, right. You wouldn’t care. It’s just the same old story. In Almyra, everyone hates me because I’m half Fódlander. In Fódlan, everyone hates me because I’m half Almyran. I’m surprised you didn’t notice. I call it my secret, but the truth is it’s kind of an open one. I mean, look at me.”

“That’s how I figured it out.” Hilda nods.

“Right,” Claude says. “I honestly thought you’d see me with Cyril and put the pieces together.”

Veery just fixes them both with a flat look. “Really? The agell from Albinea is definitely going to accurately guess that a human is lying about their ethnicity because the single Almyran he knows looks sort of vaguely like him?”

“Ha! Good point. Sorry, Veery. I really should have told you sooner.”

“Why?” Veery asks. “Does it matter at all?”

Claude snickers. “Well, not to you, probably. But Hilda… me being Almyran isn’t all there is to it.”

“Oh?” Hilda leans in, sensing gossip. “What else is there?”

Claude clears his throat, insecurity revealing itself once more, but he quickly pushes it back and says, “I’m Prince Khalid.”

“That… also means nothing to me,” Veery admits. So, Claude is a prince, too? Okay. All Veery takes from that is that Claude is important in both Fódlan and Almyra, which should help him, right? Oh, except people hate him because he’s not a true anything, so that is a difficult situation.

Hilda opens her mouth, shuts it, then repeats that process a few more times before finally settling on. “Oh. Well, that is complicated. You’re still my friend and leader, though, so don’t ever forget that.”

That’s Claude’s cue to let out the breath he’s holding and dive back into a hug, this time with both of them.

Veery can’t begin to guess at Claude’s experiences. The memories that make him who he is, the sneaky, scheming, poison-crafting, silver-tongued, future duke, are out of Veery’s reach. Veery doubts he’ll ever understand fully where Claude comes from, but it’s apparent enough that he’s hurt by prejudice, by the thing that their dream brings an end to, and that he’s trusting even though he doesn’t trust, doing even though he doesn’t believe, and Veery understands that more than anything.

Trust is hard, very hard, for Veery. Still, Claude doesn’t let him down yet. Veery has no intention of letting Claude down, either.

#write #fanfiction #FE Fanfiction #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fe3h

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