#*. ic.

                                               ❛ YOU…THINK SO? Sylvain? ❜  

      THE SUDDEN COMPLIMENT LEFT HER WITH LITTLE WORDS. Though, it wasn’t unappreciated. Her hard work, it had been paying off. That trip to town he promised was something that she held dear to her for this long, something to help keep her going onward when she knew little about what was becoming of her fellow students from Faerghus, home to people who understood her plight. A trip was enough to make her practice smiling in the mirror. Was she weak willed enough to do such a strenuous task because someone said some kind words to her? Perhaps so. 

Though, her smile was because she was just happy in going on about the animals she had seen since they returned home from the monastery. How he listened to her blather on about the birds, the wolves, the squirrels or horses that lived around her home was astounding. How did he listen to all of this? Was it simply over a smile? If so, she’d have to grin less often, in hopes of not having him bored out of his mind. 

❛ I…I’ve…practiced.  ❜ The confession caused her cheeks to darken as she kept her eyes trained at the floor. Not out of pain, but out of embarrassment. Sylvain’s kindness really did give her one more reason to live this long, the encouraging words of “practice makes perfect” still ringing out to her. Was now the part where she should say that she spent hours a day practicing, as if these were the lessons Byleth taught? All for the promise of being a better person to go to town with… She was a bit childish, wasn’t she?

                              ❝  You know, it is not to late to be having such a dream.  ❞

SHE COULDN’T HELP BUT SMILE as she placed a reassuring hand on his, a gentle squeeze following soon after. Ashe’s dream was a beautiful one, a dream she couldn’t allow him to give up on so easily, nor would she allow him to never fulfill such if he fell in love with her home like she wished. Petra could understand his ambition the most of all the people she met in the Blue Lions. Making a lost family proud… Of all the things in her life, she could understand that, and see their similarities. After all, she had her own father, may he rest with the spirits, that she wanted to make dance in elation. Ashe had not only his siblings to make proud, but his brother and father as well.

❝  A queen always needs a knight, no matter where he hails from. It would be very nice to have a strong hand like your own in Brigid. ❞ A sweet talker until her last breath. The honeyed offer well present on the table, her hand retracted from his to meet her hip. Her invitations were always sudden, meant to tease him, if only a little bit. It had become a fun game for her, even if some of her suggestions went over his head. Though, the way he sounded pained hurt her. There was a pause as she tried to find the words she meant to convey to him. He needed that relief somewhere, and she wanted to reassure him. 

                            ❛ ASHE, you know that you didn’t have to do this, right? ❜   

      THE LILY OF THE VALLEY. It meant a return to happiness, purity and luck. It was amazing how these blossoms could have such a significant impact and bring such joy. They were so tiny, their blossoms facing down. But they were common ingredients in things like perfumes, charms, even medicines. He was wasting such a flower on her. Her existence meant nothing but pain and misery for thousands of people. She couldn’t be delicate like this flower he held for her. 

There was a pause. The silence left the atmosphere of around the two somber as she recalled what her father used to teach about the flowers. The stories he’d tell about fairies living in these flowers and how they marked the coming of springtime. The more she thought, the more she felt tears stream down her cheeks at the thought of those naive days. She longed for such to return to her. Yet, no matter how much she would pray to the Goddess, it felt like that wish was just as futile as her other one to ask for. 

 ❛ I…I’m sorry, Ashe. I just…don’t know if this is appropriate…  ❜ Her weak voice tried to find the words to say, her eyes trying to keep trained on his instead of the bouquet. She wanted to tell him that she couldn’t take such flowers. She wanted to say thank you, to smile and show him that she had gratitude for all that’s been done for her. But in her heart, giving her these was worse than throwing them in the trash. She didn’t deserve this kindness.

"I wouldn't say it was an inability to learn, more of a.. unwillingness. They're ridiculous, and I'm not wasting my time with them."

     THE CHAPEL WAS EMPTY FOR THE MOST PART, SAVE FOR ONE PERSON. Oh, how grateful she was to be alone, the moonlight being the only light in the room, serving as her only guide. Marianne was knelt at the altar, her cheeks stained with dried tears and her head kept down in shame. Why was she even fighting at this point? There was so little she could do and her existence doomed almost everyone around her to misfortune.

 She was no fighter like Leonie or Hilda, she wasn’t a protector like Raphael, Lysithea was a far more capable mage, and strategy was far from comfort as well. What good did she bring? Everyday she spent it asking herself such, asking the Goddess such. What good did she have in herself? Why was she even alive if she had no purpose in life? She wanted to apologize to her father for being such a burden on him. If the Goddess just granted her this one prayer maybe everyone would-

The sound of the door to the chapel opening caused Marianne to jump back to a kneeling position, quickly wiping her tears away as she busied herself with seeming like she was praying. Her body was tense as she heard the footsteps approach her, the fear of having to explain herself causing her heart to pound against her rib cage. It’s okay. Everything will be alright, Marianne. This voice was so gentle to her, almost immediately making her relax as she began to cry again. The other person slipped down to their knees beside her, as if she were about to pray as well, before gently grabbing her hand in their own.

Marianne turned to look at Mercedes, her lips parting slightly before shutting again. You shouldn’t touch me. I’m cursed. I’m nothing more than a monster. She wanted to tell her, she wanted to say that she couldn’t accept this kindness. But her words failed her as she kept crying, her hand squeezing Mercedes’s.