Dear Reader, this is my entry for the Chlores Claudeleth exchange week #TheGoldenGifts. All of the fiction is being put together in a collection on Ao3 and you can use the #TheGoldenGifts to find the artwork side of the exchange on twitter. My partner is the wonderful CrayoncatArt who requested the following prompts:

The "Oh" moment when they knew they were in love

Cute fluff

Angst to fluff.

And also "Don't include sad endings."

Well, I used all of said prompts. Enoy!

It started with Sothis, really. As things in Byleth's life so often did these days. The voice in her head, who may or may not be the Goddess of Fódlan, was directing her; forward a page, back a page, look here, read that, and Byleth only wanted to cry.

No, she only wanted to read her Father's love letters to her Mother. She only wanted to skip ahead and read the passages where he'd expressed so much pride in her growth. She didn't have the capacity to be interested in the intrigue of the Horsebow moon, 1159.

She wanted her father back.

Sothis quieted, but not out of any sympathy for Byleth, only so she could acknowledge the new presence in the room. Byleth felt a tremulous hope rising; Claude would distract her, at least, she could rely on him to-

-immediately ask about the diary.

Her hope died and something else inside her snapped. She had no privacy within her own mind; why should she expect any without?

She stalked forward and pushed the book forcefully into his chest. "Teach-" he tried, but Byleth continued past him out the door. She was done, done with them all. Rhea, Sothis, Alois, Claude, she was just-

Done.

~o~*~o~

Something hot and twisted was clawing its way up Claude's throat. He'd never seen the professor so expressive before, but what that expression had been…

Anger? Disappointment? Hate?

Hurt?

Heartbreak?

All of the above? He'd seen the way her face had dropped, how her eyes had dimmed but- she was so calm, so composed, so strong and-

He'd taken it for granted. Of course she wasn't herself at the moment, no matter how good her front was. He of all people ought to have known not to take her mask at face value.

He'd been insensitive, despite his efforts, but when the mask had broken it wasn't someone out to hurt him that was revealed beneath.

Instead he'd hurt her.

He looked at the book in his hands; would it be worth it? He could leave it. Put it down and walk away. Find her and apologise but… the damage was done; he may as well see it through.

His skin tingled all over, the pit of his stomach roiled, the hot twisted thing was threatening to close his throat entirely.

Shame, he realised belatedly. It was shame.

~o~*~o~

It was another week before she returned to teaching. He hadn't been able to even find her in all that time. There'd been rumours of her at the graveyard, in the cathedral, in the Knight's hall, in the greenhouse. Marianne claimed she'd spent half a day in the stables curled up in the hay near Jeralt's horse, but she'd never been anywhere Claude could find her.

He'd been so sure that if he found her he'd have the words to apologise, to fix what he'd broken, but all his confidence fled during that first lecture. She didn't ignore his raised hand, or dismiss him outright, but her eyes never truly met his. She was once again wearing that inhuman air from the start of the year.

He lingered at the end. Asked if they could talk.

She had too much to catch up on.

~o~*~o~

It was almost too late when he did finally catch up to her. He'd cut things exceptionally fine in discovering what the Church was about; hiding their preparations to enter the Sealed Forest.

He had to tell Teach about it. Perhaps, if he could win her this opportunity, they could at least go back to the friendship they'd built. Perhaps, if they stood on the battlefield together once more, she'd remember how well they worked with each other. Perhaps she'd see how sorry he was.

Perhaps, that could happen, but first he had to put all his charm and cunning to use to persuade Rhea that the only person they could send was their best commander; Teach.

He felt her eyes on him as he spoke, but didn't dare look to see her expression. Not until Rhea had given the order and he felt her assume that commanding presence once more, calling the Golden Deer to arms.

~o~*~o~

He tried to keep everyone calm. Temper down their anger; point out to them that they needed information as much as revenge; though there was no reason they couldn't have both. Everyone had agreed, but naturally in the course of battle feelings ran high.

Teach engaged Kronya, and yeah, he'd expected that. She didn't call for any aid, but he kept close enough that he could keep an eye on her as he fought his own battles. But then Kronya ran, and Teach still didn't call him for aid; he could have pinned her, even at that distance, and left Teach the kill. Surely she knew that?

But whether she did or not didn't matter. Thomas, Solon, appeared. Claude ran forwards; no way was he letting Teach risk herself alone against two of-

Solon stuck his hand into Kronya's chest and Claude drew up short. That was-

Wait what was-

"Teach!" He shouted, but too late as darkness enveloped her

The dark spell dissipated swiftly, but Byleth was no longer there. Claude felt a chill. Where was she? His eyes had been on her the whole time –what had that spell done –where was she? Where was she!?

The Deer gathered around him to face down Solon, who taunted them with the possibility of a fate worse than death for her.

"And to think, we almost had the Sword of the Creator."

Who gave a fuck about the Sword of the Creator when Teach was gone!?

The world tilted on its axis. The shame he'd felt, the desolation, the desperate need to get back in her good graces, the despair that she was missing, everything clicked into place in his mind.

He didn't care about the Sword of the Creator without Teach.

He cared about Teach.

He-

Oh.

And then she cut a hole in the sky to come back to them.

~o~*~o~

"but all's well that ends well, right?"

"That's true…" she answered.

Claude could feel the questions bubbling up the back of his throat, shouting over each other. Byleth watched him for a moment then sighed;

"Just ask, Claude."

The world tilted on its axis. He loved Byleth Eisner, but to her, he was just the boy who asked the hurtful questions, wasn't he? He played the role he'd built for himself too well.

"I understand putting it off in battle, Teach, but that hair and your eyes… what happened to you?"

She answered. And he accepted it. Every unbelievable word of it.

She told him everything, even though he'd hurt her once already. No, twice, that first time when she'd received the Sword of the Creator and he'd pressed and pressed and pressed about her being Nemesis's descendant until Judith had dragged him away.

He hadn't even apologised for that either.

"I believe you." He told her, and for the briefest moment he thought he saw her smile return.

But then she collapsed and that dread chill crept over him again. Panicking he knelt beside her, and reached a hand across her face –still breathing, so then –was she only asleep? Ok, he could deal with that, he should just… call Hilda to carry her, that would be "proper", right? Especially while she was still so ambivalent with him. Hilda would complain, but she'd help.

~o~*~o~

Hilda didn't complain. Hilda straight up manipulated.

"She's so cold! Give me your jacket, Claude." She demanded from where she knelt next to the Professor and Claude undid the clasps immediately, shrugging out of it. Hilda draped it over Byleth, and lifted her up, turning back to face him "Arms out a moment."

Claude reached out and Hilda quickly dropped Byleth into his arms, tucking the jacket carefully around her and adjusting her head so it was more comfortably pillowed against his shoulder.

"Um, Hilda-"

"What, you didn't really expect me to carry the Professor all the way back to the monastery did you? Just look at my dainty arms Claude. There's no way I'd make it without dropping her."

Claude sighed "Ok, but just stay close, and mind the path for me, yeah?"

"That I can do." Hilda agreed, and led him onwards.

He was aware of the cool air on his back, but in his arms Teach was warming up. Her breath puffed against his neck and he did his best to focus resolutely on Hilda's back, making sure his footfalls matched hers and his mind was absolutely blank of all else.

Yet, when they arrived at Garreg Mach, it hit him all at once. It was the most difficult thing he'd ever done, to hand Byleth over into Rhea's care.

It shouldn't have been. He shouldn't have let it be.

And yet it was.

~o~*~o~

His dream had changed.

The fundamentals were the same. People, just going about their day, living their lives side by side. People from all nations with no boundaries between them.

But now, when he looked out at it, Teach was with him.

And now he had to figure out how to make that happen

~o~*~o~

And now Rhea was telling Teach she was to take part in a "revelation".

~o~*~o~

And now the Empire was declaring war on the Church.

~o~*~o~

And now he was out of time. Edelgard was upon them. It may have been the eleventh hour, but at last he got the chance to tell her; that he wanted her to see his dreams, that she was more than just "Teach", more than just "Friend" but that he hadn't the words to encompass all he felt, that whatever happened he would always be on her side –no matter what Rhea had done to her, no matter what mysteries they uncovered. She could depend on him.

"We'll find a way though." She told him, with her steady assurance, when he asked if they could really survive.

In the weeks to come he wondered why he didn't ask her if they'd win. If he'd only asked for that… he believed she would have found a way.

~o~*~o~

In the first year, he had too much to think about. His Grandfather's failing health left him to lead more and more of the Roundtable Conferences, and though he was glad he still had Oswald to oversee him for a time, it was clear the strain the situation was having on the old man.

And despite only being hypothetically aware that the man even existed for most of his life, Claude had grown fond of him.

He had too much to think about, then, to think much of Teach.

But it was fine, Teach would find a way through.

~o~*~o~

The beginning of the third year was when it occurred to him that Teach may actually be in trouble. If she hadn't found her way to them by now, then something must be delaying her.

There was no news of Rhea either; he was fairly confident the Empire would have announced her death, so it was possible that they were together in hiding. But he hadn't the resources to spend seeking them out, it was difficult enough as it was to keep the Alliance from pulling apart at the seams.

If he could just keep it together for now, then surely she would find them, right? It was simple really; he just had to be the sort of man Teach would rely on, and she'd come running back to her Deer.

The millennium festival, he decided, if she hadn't found her way back by then, if she was unable to keep the promise they'd made, then he would break the façade of neutrality he kept Leicester safe under and go looking for her himself.

*** ~o~*~o~ ***

"They weep as well."

The words rang round in Byleth's head as she ascended the Goddess tower. Five years she had slept, five years she had abandoned her Deer to the wilds, only to awake on the Millennium Festival to a Monastery so changed as to be almost unrecognisable.

With her Deer in tow, silence had never been a feature of Garreg Mach. Yet now it pressed in on all sides. She walked just so to deliberately set her heels clicking against the steps as she climbed.

They would be there. Her precious Golden Deer.

Wouldn't they?

Someone was.

She saw emerald eyes widen, a handsome smile following swiftly.

"You overslept, Teach. Pretty rude to keep a fella waiting like that, wouldn't you say?"

Was that –It couldn't possibly –her Claude was-

Five years.

How much had he wept in that time?

~o~*~o~

He believed her.

Somehow the world seemed more secure. He understood that she hadn't left them deliberately.

He believed her.

He-

Was offering her food?

Byleth took small, careful bites of the bread and cheese. Ensuring each morsel had gone down properly and stayed down before venturing for another –what five years asleep had done to her she could only being to guess at. Claude watched her, carefully matching her pace so she wasn't rushed to finish and-

When had he ever been so considerate about food? She'd once seen him stuff himself so full he collapsed at the table.

What had happened? In five years of struggling to keep the Alliance together when had he had time to become such a… a gentleman?

What had she missed?

He told her after they'd eaten. Everything he could think of about the current state of the world. As gently and as clearly as he was able. She listened to every word he had to say, read carefully between the lines as he explained the reach of the Empire, the fracturing of the Kingdom, the division in the Alliance.

He was the Duke now, she realised with a sudden pang. The leader of a whole nation, and here he was, explaining the world to her as he'd once had to explain the Church to her.

The Duke of Leicester taking such solicitous care of the Ashen Demon.

~o~*~o~

That simple meal of bread and cheese in the ruins of the cathedral was the beginning of a pattern, but she wasn't able to make it out until much later.

~o~*~o~

Fighting fire with "actual fire"? Yes, that was Claude all over. Up on the Star Terrace in the morning light Byleth was far enough from the scorched ground in front of the monastery to be able to breath without the stench of smoke overpowering her, even so many days after the Empire's patrol had caught wind of them at the Monastery.

The collaborative efforts of the Church and Leicester, working together under the banner of the Crest of Flames were making good progress to clean the mess of the battlefield and continue efforts within the grounds and yet…

Fighting fire with fire was one thing. Pointing that fire at ground where your allies may still be standing was another. She understood why he'd done it, and that he hadn't had the time to tell her where the strike was headed and yet…

And yet…

If they'd worked together it could have been so much better. Instead she was left scrambling to catch up.

In five years of absence their roles had changed. Byleth was no longer the class leader; now Claude led the Alliance. Once it had been her who read the maps, assessed the field, informed her students of the tactics they would use and watch them take over the battlefield. Now Claude was that leader, forming the tactics (schemes, he'd call them) and setting her on the field to see them come to fruition. Perhaps he might ask for her advice and input, but there was no doubt in her mind that he was the one leading this army.

Off the battlefield she was little more than a figurehead, it seemed.

"There you are, My Friend."

And yet…

She turned to face him as he strode out onto the terrace, waving a letter in one hand "I have the letter ready for Judith, is there anything you'd want to add?"

And yet…

It did seem as though he was carving a role for her; advisor, perhaps? As Seteth had been to Rhea? Perhaps she hadn't quite yet caught up, but neither was she being left behind.

"I doubt there's anything I could say to the Hero of Daphnel that would persuade her if you can't." She answered, quickly glancing over the letter and handing it back to him "Words are much more your talent than mine."

"I'll have it sent off directly then." Was his response as he accepted the missive back, then offered his arm to her "Have you taken breakfast yet? Shall we go down?"

~o~*~o~

And then there was Ailell and Judith's information. The promise that, whatever else may happen with the world, with the Church, if Byleth wanted answers from Rhea, he would be sure they got them.

~o~*~o~

"Ah." Said Claude unhappily as he sat with her and Lorenz midway through lunch a few days before the march to Myrddin.

Lorenz and Byleth shared a glace "What is it?" the noble questioned.

"Ever taken a bite of your meal and it's just… the perfect combination of every ingredient? And you know that delicious as it is, every bite thereafter will be a disappointment?"

Byleth nodded in sympathy, but Lorenz rolled his eyes. "And this is the mind that has kept the Alliance together all this time."

"Hey, even my brain needs a rest now and then! Better now than in front of your father, right?"

"I assure you he'd notice no difference." Lorenz answered somewhat blithely as he cleared his plate and stood to bow "Thank you, Professor, this was lovely as always. And you needn't worry, Claude. You may safely leave my Father to me."

Claude watched him go "Y'know, once upon a time I wouldn't have believed that." He mused "I still can't fathom exactly what old Gloucester is playing at, but Lorenz turned out to be entirely reliable. I have you to thank for that." He added, turning bright eyes back on her.

"Me?"

"Of course, if you hadn't put us on stable and weeding duty together all those times I'm not sure we'd ever have come round to each other... Who knows where the Alliance may have been now? But I suppose you weren't thinking of that and it was just a part of your grand strategy to make the Golden Deer the most cohesive class the academy had ever seen, right, Teach?"

"Nothing of the sort." Byleth demurred

"No?"

"After working with you, Lorenz was usually too frustrated to go bothering the girls…" she trailed off as she began standing to clear her own space "Then you started to make nice and I had to actually talk to a teenage boy about his inappropriate behaviour. Teenage Lorenz."

Claude crumpled into laughter and Byleth left him at the table with a feeling of… victory? Satisfaction? Whatever it was, his smile and his laughter sparked it into being and it glowed within her.

…But why did it seem like they were always eating together?

~o~*~o~

Hilda had taken to calling Claude "Mr Leader Man" after the teasing fashion of the Hero of Daphnel, and made much use of it after they took the bridge.

"Seeing as you're heading all the way out to the roundtable anyway, wouldn't it be better if you took a letter to Holst for me, instead of me making the trip all the way out to Goneril and back? That way I can head on to the Monastery and make sure everything is prepared for when we reconvene there. Very efficient, wouldn't you say, Mr Leader Man?"

"Hilda-" he sighed, and Byleth could have sworn it was the exact tone in which she had always thought of the girl when she'd been her student "Alright, if you can write it very quickly."

"Already on it! Just one moment!" Hilda skipped off and he turned back to face her.

"Thanks for agreeing to this by the way. I know the roundtable might seem intimidating, but it can't be worse than suddenly finding yourself teaching a bunch of kids like we were, right?"

"I guess we'll find out." Byleth acknowledged "But you certainly haven't talked it up at all."

"Hah, no, not my favourite part of the job, I'll admit."

Hilda sauntered her way back over and cast a look between them. Byleth was suddenly aware of how close they'd drifted during that exchange; when had she become so comfortable with him that she wouldn't even notice?

Then they reached the Alliance end of the bridge and Claude's prospective mount.

"Ah." Byleth stopped short "We're flying?"

Claude and Hilda exchanged a glance. "Come to think of it, I've never seen you on sky-patrol Professor." Hilda mused "You're not afraid of heights are you?"

"Heights? No. Falling."

"I wouldn't-" Claude began

"-and then not waking up for years."

Claude's jaw clicked shut and she sent him a rueful smile as he absently scritched under the wyvren's chin. She could almost see him trying to think of a way to appease that fear of hers.

It was warming, that'd he'd even try.

"We could ride…" he mused "But it'd be cutting things fine. There'd be little time to recuperate between travelling and, well, politics. If you'll trust me, Friend, I promise no fancy tricks or manoeuvres. We won't even go too high and I'll hold you the whole time."

Hilda snorted at that and Claude shot her a glare, unnoticed by Byleth as she stepped forwards to let the Wyvern sniff at her hand before running it over the creature's snout. It nuzzled into her hand affectionately and she took a breath, closing her eyes as she released it slowly.

"Alright." She agreed quietly.

"What was that?" He questioned, turning from Hilda.

"Alright" Byleth repeated, more firmly, striding round to the mounting block at the wyvern's flank "Before I change my mind."

"Wait" Hilda interjected and stepped forward while pulling her hairband off. She reached forward to pull Byleth's hair back and tie as much of it down as she could "You'll want that, trust me. Make sure Mr Leader Man here gets you something better for the return trip. It's the least he could do, really."

"Trust you to find a good reason to send us shopping, Hilda." Claude complained, but he was smiling.

A moment later and Byleth didn't even get the chance to use the block. Claude swept her up in front of the saddle and climbed on behind. Before she could worry about it his arms were around her and her senses were enveloped in the scent of Almyran Pine and the heat of his chest at her back.

~o~*~o~

She found herself on the Star Terrace once more, under the blazing noon sun. It was a purification, almost, the light and the heat burning away the madness of Grondor Field.

She'd been a mercenary all her life; she'd known what it was to turn your blade against a face that had yesterday been your ally.

And yet the scale of it all.

Her hand reached into a hidden pocket and thumbed over the raised profile of an embroidered sunflower. In Derdriu, after the roundtable, Claude had taken her hand and led her through the bustling markets until he'd found just the thing for her: practical for the purpose, but also pretty enough to satisfy even Hilda. The ribbon was the same shade of pink as most of her accents tended to be, but patterned along the length in a chain of bright sunflowers. Claude had thrown enough silver at the milliner to have the silken threads cut and hemmed properly then and there, so it wouldn't fray and unravel, before tying her hair back in a braid for their return journey himself.

It was too fine a thing for the battlefield, really. Even so she kept it on her person, a touchstone of sorts.

The sunlight blazed over her, offering absolution, but it was the memory of emerald eyes and a wry smile that prompted her back into the bustle of war-planning.

~o~*~o~

And then there was Fort Merceus.

Merceus had been many things. Few of them good.

With one exception.

"Teach... This is for your ears only, but there's actually one more part to my plan." He'd said. "We all trust in you. In your command and in your strength." She hadn't confronted him about the fire-strike earlier in the year. She hadn't pressed him on any of the numerous schemes he toyed with before deciding on what route to take.

Yet he'd come to her with this one regardless.

He'd trusted her with it.

He trusted her.

More than the encounter with the Death Knight, more than the utter destruction that rained down on the fortress afterwards, that notion… was keeping her awake.

She couldn't quite place it. She didn't know what to do with the feeling.

Her feet led her to the Star Terrace.

This time he was already there.

"You and me Teach, we could go anywhere, do anything."

The ground beneath her feet was never firmer than when she nodded and stepped forward to stand by his side, tipping her head up to look at the stars with him.

The next morning, she awoke in her room with no memory of how she got there. Yet she could make out the lingering scent of Almyran Pine.

She did not understand why, but it made her blush.

~o~*~o~

And he was at her side. Through all the streets of Enbarr and in to the Palace

~o~*~o~

And he was at her side, as Rhea made her confessions.

~o~*~o~

And he was at her side as Nemesis crossed the plains, only one more march from Garreg Mach.

They'd been receiving updates all day about the size of his host, their progress towards the monastery, and Claude had now called for a meeting of the generals in the Cardinal's Room to finalize their plan of attack.

A call went up from the parapets and they turned to see the last of the scouts return, horse foaming at the mouth as he drove the poor beast up towards the monastery. Neither of them hesitated, and dashed down to the stables just as he was dismounting, moments ahead of the first heavy lash of rain.

The scout all but collapsed against the stable door, but pulled his report from a well water-proofed pocket on the inside of his tunic, gasping out the most salient points to Claude as the Duke stepped forward to take it.

Byleth caught hold of the horse's bridle to lead it in to the stables, taking the poor creature out of the rain and out of the way as Claude and the scout conversed. She had barely gotten it through the door when the first clap of lightning lit the sky above them, the thunder following in harsh crackles.

The horse reared and Byleth lost her grip on the bridle. She dodged out of the way as sharp hooves came crashing back down where she had been standing, throwing herself into the wall of the stable in the process.

"Whoa!" A familiar voice called and Claude darted forward to soothe the beast, taking the bridle in one steady hand and running the other down the horse's forelock. He was mumbling something in a low voice, but Byleth couldn't catch the words. It was melodic and slow –another language?

Almyran, she guessed. She'd have been a fool not to have put two and two together by this point, with all the hints he'd been leaving her.

"You alright there, My Friend?" he asked as the beast at last calmed.

"A little bruised, comes of throwing myself into the wall. Nothing a rest won't fix."

"You sure?" He asked petting the creature twice more and then letting go of the bridle, backing away from it and crossing over to her "That looked –close."

"I'm sure." She answered, her usual calm restored.

The horse, not happy to have lost Claude's attention, butted its great head against his back and sent him stumbling forwards. He caught himself heavily on his forearm right beside her head, faces brought far closer to each other than they had ever been. So close she could only focus on one of his brilliant emerald eyes at a time. So close her inhale was his exhale.

"Gee," he started, a high flush across his cheeks as he pushed away from the wall "I'm glad nobody will be riding this one tomorrow."

Byleth leaned forwards instinctively as he withdrew, missing his presence even though the moment had been so brief. He had already turned back to the messenger, so she stepped forward to begin pulling the tack off the horse.

"You coming, Teach?" Claude asked from the doorway, preparing to follow the messenger back to the Cardinal's Room.

"I'll be right behind you." She agreed, easing the bridle over the horse's head and hanging it on a nearby hook on the wall, turning to unbuckle the saddle next.

He hesitated for a moment in the doorway then nodded. Byleth was once again struck by his absence –as was the horse who butted its head against her this time. She set the saddle aside and sent it a reproving look

"Don't expect me to talk so sweetly to you." She informed it. "I don't know any Almyran."

She would have to learn though, she thought as she began brushing out the beast's coat, it wouldn't be fair or practical to expect Claude to do all the translating when they w-

-When they went to Almyra.

They.

She and he.

She would be going to Almyra with him. Or wherever he ended up going.

Of course she would.

She-

Oh.

That's what that feeling was.

~o~*~o~

Byleth was later than expected to the meeting in the Cardinal's Room.

She had stopped by the graveyard first, to tell her father her decision.