Honorary Golden Deer

You mean the truth?

Linhardt was bitter. It wasn't an emotion he allowed to consume him, due to its overwhelming and vicious instincts it caused within one's self. But that slight and barely-there quip to Byleth's lips as he spoke to Claude had Linhardt succumbing to the thorny bloom of bitterness. The weight that had piled upon Byleth's shoulders since he returned from his meeting with Rhea, seemed to lighten as Claude placed his hand on the professor's arm. Linhardt narrowed his eyes and glared intently at the contact.

Linhardt had spent that entire morning trying to get even an ounce of acknowledgement from Byleth. From coaxing the dejected professor from his bed without a word being uttered from the professor's lips; to trying to converse with him at breakfast. The man stirred his slop of wheat absentmindedly causing the warlock to become concerned with how Byleth would handle the rest of his duties that day. So, as Linhardt mentally prepared a moving speech to snap Byleth from his depressive state, he came to a startling awareness of how exhausting it was to care for someone. Though, as draining as it was to cajole his love into eating and recognise the passing guards in greeting, he felt a certain pride and humbleness that Byleth held such confidence in his ability to care for him in his time of need.

They had made it to the council room where Claude and Dimitri were already inside, side by side huddled in front of their plans for Those Who Slither in the Dark. Claude had looked over his shoulder when Byleth and Linhardt had passed over the threshold and grinned. That stupid, handsome, smile. Linhardt was suddenly alone as Byleth took it upon himself to shuffle over to the archer and Faerghus King.

So, yes, Linhardt was bitter. He had slumped himself in his chair adjacent to Byleth's and mentally ripped up the rather expressive and touching speech he had been finalising. He knew he was being melodramatic, Byleth was going through a lot. Perhaps he needed the assurance from a friend to know that whatever the case, his heart still beats for them all. Albeit, Claude hadn't been there when the professor had cried himself to sleep, or there when he woke, eyes unfocused and lost.

It had been scary to see Byleth like that. And only now did Linhardt become aware that his own hands were shaking slightly from the tension. Linhardt took some deep breathes and focused on Byleth's demeanour. He was becoming clearer, eyes refocusing and his body movements returning its graceful fluidity. Linhardt, despite the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, let out a sigh of relief.

It wasn't much longer for the others to arrive and take their respected seats. A small argument between Felix and Sylvain was squashed almost as quickly as it started as Dimitri glared at his redheaded friend. That seemed to spur Byleth into starting the meeting, and if Linhardt hadn't been there through the professor's breakdown, he would never have guessed the man had been emotionally and mentally venerable a few moments ago.

Byleth seemed more relaxed with everyone surrounding him and Linhardt could understand that. Byleth had grown accustomed to others coming to him for advice, answers or simply just an ear to rely on. He was their mentor and friend, and Linhardt sensed that Byleth needed this to come to his own understanding that he was, and always had been, more than his chequered past.

Linhardt felt the bitterness dissipate and be replaced with fondness. He yawned silently, covering his mouth and ignored the smirk Claude gave him. Seteth took over once Byleth was done and the professor took his seat, and to Linhardt's surprise, covered the warlock's hand with his own. Linhardt felt his heart stutter as the professor offered him a brief smile and a gentle squeeze to his fingers before concentrating on what Seteth had to say.

"Now Certification Exams will be held today before we march tomorrow," Seteth announced and Linhardt tensed. He was nowhere near ready for the exam. As much as Byleth insisted that becoming a Mortal Savant would be the best course of action for him, Linhardt had remained sceptical. His exam, according to Seteth, would be this afternoon after Lysithea's. The warlock nodded in confirmation and clutched at Byleth's hand for comfort.