This is a repost of Chapter 15-33 from my one-shot series "Aegis" that turned into an entire fic in and of itself. It wasn't supposed to go that way, but it did. I'll leave them there where they are but continue the sudden plot here. FFnet keeps somehow borking the chapter order, so forgive the repost x2!

This could have gone better.

There aren't many scenarios Byleth considers to be the worst, but the complete wreck of a situation she has in front of her absolutely takes the proverbial cake.

There's enough tension in the air to hang half of Fòdlan's populace, noble and commoner alike, simultaneously between the three of them and it's making her skin itch. Two of the three haven't noticed her yet and the tension between them all is making her skin itch.

They're in a small hut barely big enough to give them all the semblance of breathing room with about five to seven feet of center 'neutral' ground.

There are three varying levels of pissed off Lords and Lady still locked in a silent stalemate that's threatening to break at any given moment.

And then the icing on this shit cake: the worst snowstorm in Fòdlan's recent history cheerfully howling just outside the door and two windows.

If Seteth were here, we would have all powers represented. It's not a cheerful thought and Byleth half-wishes the taciturn adviser was there to provide reason to what she anticipated would be an emotionally charged argument. Then again, Seteth could very well just see Edelgard's betrayal and nothing else and she'd be left as the sole voice of reason in the end.

Byleth sees herself staring down the all too real possibility of a three-versus-one skirmish that would result in grievous injury, if not death. Manipulating them into something resembling a truce would be a feat in and of itself; as good as she considers herself to be as a Professor, she's not confident in her diplomacy skills or in matters concerning the finer art of parley.

Her eyes flick from ruler to ruler- each currently tense and ready to strike from their specific corner of the room- and finds part of the situation almost funny when compared to how she'd first met the trio of troublesome teenagers.

Edelgard hadn't lost her analytical stare for an instant, but there was a hidden desperation to the woman's weighted gaze that hinted at false calm.

If Byleth were to push her, if she could find the crack in the woman's seemingly perfect physical and emotional armor, she might just break beneath her hands and words.

Dimitri's hidden darkness had consumed nearly all of the earnest and sweet-natured boy she'd seen at the Academy. What remains of him from back then is still unknown to her, but the restraint he's shown thus far is enough for her to suspect he's holding himself from the madness that lies beyond by a fraying thread.

She could fight him until he yields; he would to her and potentially only her at this stage.

Claude's smile still didn't reach his eyes- unless he's looking at her. He's been watching her whenever he thinks she isn't looking and sees the unspoken frustration and yearning there. He's been scheming for so long she knows it hasn't occurred to him to simply ask her for help. As straight-forward as he seems to be, Claude is simultaneously the easiest and most difficult of them all.

Byleth can win him over with logic, reason, and the promise of information he may not receive otherwise.

She wishes, not for the first time, that she hadn't allowed herself to get involved. That she would have gone to the mercenaries Jeralt had left to her care and vanished from Fòdlan entirely. Could have lived without… without this.

As predicted, Dimitri is the one who breaks the stalemate and charges in for the kill.

Damn it.

The battle cry is loud enough to wake the dead and her ears are ringing as she moves in to intercept him. She's not ready for this and forces the glowing blade between them and the sound the spear makes against the Relic is enough to set her teeth on edge.

His strength is nothing to laugh at and it takes everything she has in her to counter the follow up strike and trip him up. He follows, unable to see anything but red in his vision and attacks her as though she's his greatest enemy

Maybe she is.

Byleth's not sure and neither are the rest of them as she parries and steps to the side, his spear smashes into the cold dirt floor where she stood only a few seconds prior. A flurry of movement and a good pair of shots on her part leave Dimitri doubled over, gasping for air, and she bodily shoves him hard against the wall he'd initially charged from. That, she thinks, is enough out of him for one day.

She wonders where Dedue is.

She doesn't get to savor any sense of victory she might have had, as the presence and hand on her shoulder get the person attached- Edelgard this time- thrown hard in the opposite direction. The Empress hits the ground back first and flops like a fish out of water, most undignified, and tries to figure out how to make her lungs work.

Byleth is a little surprised to see her there and wonders what possessed her to do something so foolish as to sneak up on someone like that.

She wonders where Hubert is.

Two down, one left. Byleth glares in the Alliance leader's direction and feels said glare slip at the way he's already doubled over, clutching his sides, and trying his hardest not to let the rest of them see he's laughing. It fails, spectacularly even, and his quiet laughter draws the attention of the two currently semi-incapacitated on the ground.

"Claude." She says his name in the same disapproving tone each of them had heard half a dozen times or more throughout their Academy days.

Where are Hilda and Lorenz?

Where are the rest of their respective classmates and allies?

Where in the hells are Manuela and Hanneman?

"Sorry, Teach, I can't help it." He's wiping away tears of laughter from his eyes now and attempts to pull himself together. "The first time we see one another in five years and both of their Royal Highnesses are thrown like barrels from a cart. Priceless, I tell you."

"Do shut up, Claude." Edelgard's voice is strained and still a little breathless as she responds, working to ease herself up off the ground.

Byleth looks to her and Edelgard looks away, her gaze dropped to the hand that'd settled briefly on her shoulder.

"I was only trying to help you." Her voice is a mix of hurt and embarrassment. The Empress is telling the truth. Any time there was a difficult, or some sort of subject that embarrassed her, the Adrestian Empress always looked away from whoever she was speaking to.

"I'm sorry." Byleth's apology is terse but sincere. "It isn't wise to grab someone from behind so quickly after a battle, however, you are lucky it wasn't a knife or worse." The quick look Edelgard gives her and the nod she receives in turn is all there is to it.

The Edelgard she knew was still there.

Dimitri glares at both of them and opened his mouth to speak.

Byleth cuts him off. "Dimitri." He flinches at the sound of his name. "Your form has improved, but you still favor your left side a little too much."

Dimitri's eye widens and his expression, just for a moment, is the exact same as the youth he used to be almost six years ago. The same wide-eyed look he had when taken off guard. In between the precious moment of surprise and the point he retreats into the anger he hides behind, she sees him replay the skirmish and absorb the feedback.

He's still there, somewhere, as well.

There's the sound of clothes rustling and a clatter of arrows in a quiver behind her. Claude offers her a lift of his hand in greeting and settles himself at her side as though it's perfectly natural and this isn't the first time he's seen her in years. The quick exchange of glances is enough for her to know he intentionally let her know he was moving closer.

If he didn't want to be heard, he wouldn't be.

Claude was still Claude, and she feels the friendly pat on the shoulder he gives through her armor.

Dimitri and Edelgard's attention is on that same hand on her shoulder. The hand lifts and she doesn't disappear before their eyes. One blue eye and two violet ones widen as realization sinks in. The former of the two looks as though someone struck him with lightning, and the latter has the most painful kernel of hope naked on her face.

"As you can see, Teach is alive." Claude pauses for dramatic effect. "And, as the only person who's currently on their best behavior out of the three of us, I believe that gives me first dibs on recruiting her for the Alliance."