Byleth never had a mirror before.

There was only ever room for her tent, supplies, a change of clothes, and weapons in her pack. There is no reason to carry anything that would not protect her. This was why her father's pack was always heavier; why should she carry any 'drink' if she was not the one to drink it?

As such, she had also never used one.

Her father would tell her if she ever had blood or mud on her face. As long as her hair never got in her face, there was no reason to care for what it looked like. Why bother with them?

So upon finding the wall-length mirror in her new quarters, she realised that she had never quite looked at herself before.

Sometimes Byleth would catch her own eyes in mirrors, coming and going through inns and pubs. She mostly found warped reflections facing her as she drank from streams, or washed her clothes in the river. She only vaguely knew what she looked like.

She had asked her father before what colour her eyes were. He said they were blue. She was a child then, and satisfied with just that. Her eyes were blue.

Her gaze flittered about her reflection, taking in the small details. Her eyes were blue, but like the pale sky at dusk. Her chin – looked different to how it always felt in her hands. Her cheeks bore scratches from yesterday's combat. Her eyes and mouth were steady.

How peculiar.

She had become familiar with her life as Professor.

Her father was regarded around the monastery and by the students as a rough and stoic mercenary fit for the name Blade Breaker, and he acted as such around them. But in this private moment with his daughter, he beamed with pride.

"I was worried," he said, "all the brats, and with a good lot of them being nobles at the same time. Seems like a headache to me. I wasn't sure how you'd cope. I was even less sure about the teaching position."

"It's… difficult."

"But you're rising to the challenge anyway." He nodded, patting Byleth on the head like he used to do when she was little, "Something must be resonating with these kids, I've seen how many transfer requests you've received."

"You can tell it's working too. I've watched over some of the latest training sessions. That Ignatz could barely pull the training bow at first, and now he's long distance sniping with the steels."

"I teach them how you taught me."

He sighs, bringing a hand up to rub his neck. "With better diagrams, I hope?"

"They gave me a chalkboard." Byleth mimed using it. "Better than drawing in the dirt."

He chuckled, "Ah, ya wound me, kid."

Her father sat opposite her, shaking his head. "I'm still worried, given the awkward positions here."

"But… this seems to have done you some good. You seem brighter than you used to be, when you're teaching those brats."

Byleth tilted her head, "Brighter?"

He stroked his bread, "How can I explain… You've never been one to show how you feel openly. It's okay, some people are like that. Sometimes, when you were just knee high, you had this frown, and I couldn't tell if you were upset with me, or just hungry."

"But there!" he said, pointing a finger at her faint amusement. "It's been easier for you to smile. Or to see when you're annoyed. That Gautier boy must sure be something to earn that furrowed brow of yours."

Byleth nodded, and her father laughed.

"I guess what I'm saying is that while I still want us to be careful around here, I'm glad to see you becoming comfortable. You're doing well, Kiddo."

The bells chimed twelve, as Byleth and her father hugged goodbye.

Brighter.

She sometimes found herself staring at her reflection in her mirror. Sometimes just from daydreaming about being in this place, being in a position to own a mirror. Sometimes it was to wonder how some of the students put their hair up in such fantastical ways. This time it was to wonder about being brighter.

"I remember, too." Sothis said, a vision beside the mirror. "Not very much, I am afraid, But I do remember your childhood."

Byleth turned, watching as Sothis seemingly floated in thought.

"I know not of the depths of our bond, yet… I can feel as you feel, though we are both individual. I… woke, once. It was your tenth birthday, and your father had bestowed upon you your dagger, there." She pointed at Byleth's scabbard.

"You were eating a sweet, settling down for the night. And he pulled the blade out from seemingly thin air. We were surprised, were we not?" She grins in reverie, "'I love you, kiddo.' We were so happy, protected… you very much felt love, and loved, that moment."

Sothis lazed in thought, drumming her fingers on her cheek. "I remember faint stirrings. Hope, anger, sadness, happiness. It is, however… difficult to remember any other times your emotions ever boldly showed on your face."

Byleth returned her gaze at the mirror. She saw the same, steady expression.

What do they see, when I smile?

The students catch her by surprise often. She never quite realised how she was expressing herself until they told her themselves.

"Look at that, she's so proud of you!"
"Goddess, what did you do this time, she's mad."
"Teach! I never thought I'd see a smile from you."

That was the first time she had seen an honest smile from Claude, too.

Byleth brought her fingers to her mouth, pulling at the corners and stretching them up. This is what his façade looks like, somewhat. But the genuine smile… was it because his mouth was open? She bared her teeth. No, that was… too angry.

Sothis peered into the mirror. "Could you imagine your little ones seeing you pull faces at yourself, like a child?"

She thought for a moment.

I would never hear the end of it.

"Look!" Sothis said, bringing Byleth's attention to her reflection again.

Byleth's smile was subtle, but her cheeks raised with it, and the corners of her eyes crinkled. There was a shine to her eyes when she smiled.

It was their eyes.

Sothis smiled alongside her. "Those little ones… We have certainly grown fond of them. Is it any wonder that you would become freer in feeling?"

"I suppose it isn't." Byleth whispered.

"I… I hope to stay brighter."