Faye is the first and only one to see him after the comment from the passing by nobleman. It dawns on him as soon as he approaches the campfire, the most logical place to go to lick wounds after a battle… Somewhere warm and lit and as he’d hoped, would be abandoned, is not.

His world knocks into focus when he snaps a twig with his boot and Faye’s head snaps up, her pigtails following her movement. Her hand is instantly on a dagger—one that Lukas remembers Gray wielding—and her eyes flash with fear.

I forgot. He recalls. She was assigned the second shift tonight.

Faye eases a little, but her eyes flit from the dirt on Lukas’s knees to the scratches on his elbows from being pushed to ground. Her eyes graze over the blood trickling from his upper lip. The taste of metal sours on his tongue. She takes his unsightly presence in and the etiquette lessons drilled into him at birth make him instinctively raise a hand, forgetting that his knuckles are split, bloodied and are certainly bruised, to hide his swelling lip.

Lukas instantly remembers his place, Clive’s voice in his ears: you are an officer now. You must set an example to our young recruits.

He stands a little taller, feels a blush of shame cross his cheeks. Faye just stares at him, taking in the sight of her commanding officer who very obviously just got out of a fist fight. Her hands loosen around the dagger and it slides back into the delicate purse that hangs at her side.

“I know white magic.” Faye offers quietly. She is on her feet and is so… small. She cannot be older than seventeen. Lukas thinks. It’s the pigtails and the innocent village skirt and those wide brown eyes unused to the sight of death. Their youngest is Kliff, but even he seems more suited to fighting than she. Faye is strong and capable but whenever Lukas witnesses her in battle, idle and disengaged, her eyes flit everywhere, panic clear on her face.

As she closes the distance between them, Lukas realizes it’s the first words she’s said to him, outside of greetings, notifications that food had prepared, nods when he orders her to do something and her frantic demand to be brought along when they were leaving Ram Village.

Faye doesn’t wait for Lukas’s approval, taking him by the elbow—narrowly avoiding the nasty scuff he’d gotten—and sits them before the dying embers of the campfire. He shudders a little when Faye begins pressing her dry, newly-calloused hands against his broken skin. With a prayer, she takes away the bruises, the blood, the marks of the battle; she leaves behind the words, the “backwater”, “led by a base born bastard”, “the group of hick children” and the assumption that they’ll all be slaughtered before they could truly enlist.

The firelight illuminates the cost of the duel left on Lukas’s face. The white magic—cool and tingling and inhuman—takes it away. His body feels numb in spots, and the sensation will fade long before dawn when his skin has sewn itself back together and the bruises have been faded back to pale skin.

Faye draws her hands back into her lap, just for a second before reaching for her canteen of water. She produces a handkerchief, embroidered with flowers and pretty things, something that a lady carries and gives as a favoured token to her courtly love.

The water is cool against his skin. She’s using her rations to clean me up. Lukas shies away from her touch, from pain but also from duty: he knows well that they do not have enough for them and that by the time they get to the Deliverance Hideout, rations will be sparse. “You will not get any more if you use it all.”

It comes out harsher than he means it. He winces when the water, warmer than he expected it to be, touches his brow. Her white magic skills leave much to be desired, they are faulty and underdeveloped, but still surprising to see. She’d only just been blessed as a mage. Silque must have been the one to teach her, in between marches and battles. Lukas had advised Alm to make use of an abandoned mare they’d found in a farmer’s field and set Faye on the path of a cavalier, but Alm had insisted otherwise:

I’ve seen her use black magic before, Lukas. She’ll pick up quickly, I know she will. He told him in the Thieves’ Shrine.

Lukas dryly thanks Mila that Alm did not think to set her on the holy path of a cleric. His wounds slowly close over, the numb sensation fleeing much too quickly. The pain returns.

“I don’t care.” Faye says quietly. She wets the cloth again, wipes the crusting blood from his brow. “If Gray or Kliff gets up and sees you like this, they’ll lose all respect for you. Trust me, you can’t have that.”

Lukas submits to her care. He shuts his eyes as she takes his hands into her lap—the nobleman’s blood and skin probably still stuck under his nails—and cleans them with the handkerchief that she probably bought in the same town, just feet away from the nobleman who called her a bumpkin scum under his breath.

When she’s done, Lukas tells her to go to bed, that he will take her shift. Faye doesn’t protest—the dark circles under her eyes tell all—and gets up and goes to bed without protest.

Zhongli and Venti as a bow knight and a falcon knight from FE:SoV for zhongvenweek 2021 day 1 - alternate universe

pairing: berkut x gn!reader

tags: wholesome fluff, established romantic relationship

berkut isn't a naturally touchy person

however, he is the type of man who would do anything for his beloved and that includes physical affection!

he'll start testing your boundaries by small gestures, like holding your hand or kissing your forehead whenever you two part ways

if you react positively to the physical affection, he'll continue with cuddling with you when the two of you are alone

berkut is the type who can only lay still during cuddling if he's exhausted, otherwise his hands are all over you, gently rubbing your arms or playing with your hair

berkut likes to keep those intimate moments between the two of you private, since he doesn't want people to think he's soft

however if you express a desire to hold his hand in public or be close to him in any way while others are around, he can't say no

he often has you sit on his lap as he either holds your hand or plays with your hair when the two of you are in public

nobody dares to comment on it, knowing how berkut can get if they say anything even remotely mean about his beloved! 

Mae from Fire Emblem in my 12″ Super Chibi plush style!