Word count: 712 words.

The Art of the Reel

"It's all in the timing," said Byleth, his eyes never once leaving the water. "Execution is important, but it's nothing without the proper setup."

Xerxes nodded briskly, listening with a firm grip on the fishing net boldly entrusted to him. For as cool and determined as he was on the outside, he was especially eager on the inside, and he couldn't help but let traces of it slip in the way he rocked on his heels and chewed on his bottom lip.

"All in the timing," he repeated the words as though he would forget them if he didn't. "Right!"

"Exactly," Byleth stifled a chuckle. He could tell how giddy the child was, try as he might to conceal it. "The type of bait you use is also important, of course. There are fish who only respond to a certain kind of bait, and then there are some who are generally fine with whatever you cast, but might put one type of bait over the others. Recognizing what fish respond to what bait will make it easier for you if you're looking for a specific species, or if you want to avoid one altogether. Consider it a part of the setup—minor at first glance, but crucial to success."

"Choosing the right bait," Xerxes beamed, in awe at the knowledge he was intaking. "Absolutely crucial!"

Byleth was beginning to smile a little himself. In truth, he was simply paraphrasing bits and pieces of the pointers his father gave him when he was younger, along with some of the stuff he picked up during his tenure as a professor with a penchant for angling. It really wasn't anything extravagant, but it humbled him to see Xerxes so sincerely fascinated. The gleam, intrigue, and childish wonder in his eyes was something he wasn't able to experience in his youth, and inspiring the sentiment in someone else almost made up for it.

And then there was a tug on his line.

"P-papa!" Xerxes started, eyes wide at the shadow lurking in the depths.

"I've got it," Byleth was already on the offensive, heaving back while reeling the line in. "Get the net ready, it's a big one."

Xerxes blinked, still startled, before quickly collecting himself. "R-right! I-I'm ready!"

"Aside from the—" he grunted before continuing. Even as he waged nautical warfare, Byleth didn't stop relaying advice. "—resistance it's putting up, you can also tell its size from the shadow it's casting in the water. Knowing the size will help give you an idea of how much stamina it has. I tend to go by a multi-color system."

"Multiple colors?" noted Xerxes. "What are they?"

"Get the net out," Byleth advised. "In no particular order—"

To the tune of his boot tapping on the dock, Byleth yanked on the line once.

"One fish, two fish."

And then a second time.

"Red fish,"

And then a third time.

"Blue fish,"

And then—

"GOLD FISH!"

The line snapped with a twang, but it hardly mattered as the golden fish was already airborne, discombobulated by the rays of the glistening sun and desperate to return to the water.

"Your turn," Byleth motioned without pause. "Catch it!"

"R-right now?!" Xerxes gulped. "As in right now right now?!"

"Yes, before it falls back in!"

Xerxes did as instructed but overshot the net in his haste. Fortunately for them, the fish smacked upon the dock and promptly began flopping about in a desperate bid to maneuver itself back in the water. Father and son could only stare blankly at the fish, and then at each other, and then at the fish once more before realization finally settled in.

"Grab it! Quickly!"

"I'm trying! It keeps slipping away!"

'That's natural! It's a fish!"

"Blech! It's getting water everywhere!"

"Try to pin it down, I'm going to run it through!"

"Aaaugh! Stay still!"

It was rare for Edelgard to be caught off-guard, but a pair of yammering misfits scrambling to capture a harmless fish came very close to pulling it off. The emperor paused at the sight upon approach, her lips parted as she blinked in disbelief.

"Ah..."

The infant cradled in her arms echoed the gesture.

"Blep."

"Perhaps," she looked to the baby. "It would be best if we left them to it."