#rieganev

prompt ( 1/10 ) / accepting.

teacup lowers, eyes staying on her student’s as she partakes in a temporary silence.

it was a question bound to be asked: one she never put to words but knew at the core of her being, like it was written into her soul. while most would praise the workings of fate, or the guidance of the gods, the professor would think it to be the first choice she made with a warmth forming beneath her chest, a semblance of emotion.

she remembers that day clearly, meeting claude and hearing his testimonies. he had already felt familiar, the look in his unsmiling eyes almost akin to her own. that started a curiosity, a wish to learn more — a yearning that only grew once she listened to him speak of his house, of his classmates: each unique with their own ambitions and traits, each like their own color. some colors in contrast, others in compliment. however, once united, they formed a beautiful picture.

knowing her students indulged her in a spectrum: standing beside claude, comforting marianne, reprimanding lorenz, encouraging ignatz, tutoring raphael, believing in hilda, duelling leonie, lending lysithea an ear — each and every encounter with them was new, and brought out a new side to her, aspects of her being she never knew existed until she met them.

golden deer had given her a heart, where one never existed. they were the warmth, the light that filled the void of her vessel; her reason to press on, her purpose.

prompt / no longer accepting.

her gaze leaves the paperwork sprawled across the round table, now greeted by the return of her beloved. a small grin rises to her lips, inspired by the view of him alone. for one person to illicit such warmth within her— it was a thought once foreign to most, but they’d grown closer over time, almost inseparable. ( and perhaps that was his greatest scheme of all. )

she watches him approach, but it doesn’t take too long until she notices the hand he held behind his back, prompting a small tilt of her head in curiosity. while she was no stranger to her husband’s antics, she did not expect to be presented with a single flower.

the dawncrown: a flower rare and native to the borders of almyra and fodlan.

        ❝ you … remember that ? ❞

she takes the blossom, observing its familiar glisten against the light. it felt like eons since she’d last seen one, perhaps long before she’d become a professor in the academy. a sense of nostalgia softening the look in her eyes.

’ both hands of time are shown to you … and you alone. ’ that was how it was meant to be, and yet she stood there, eyes on the verge of tears as her beloved bleeds in her hold.

      ❝ claude … all this time, you knew ? ❞

the hand that held onto her blade trembles, the groove of its handle marking against her skin. he was right, and painfully so; they were happy. this was a consequence of the power she was given, and every day spent in the academy knowing what she’d done was like walking on glass, a weight on her shoulders. but hearing this from claude, to find that he knew she was missing from his side — was as if she had pierced a blade to her own chest. this was her punishment, the price she had to pay in search of answers to her being, answers to this war.

      ❝ it’s not your fault — i didn’t mean to … ❞

she watches the red slowly spill through his shirt. he had a chance to survive, judging by nature of his wounds. this was the second time she hesitated — but this was the first time she couldn’t finish the job. he didn’t need to die like this, not when she knew what the future entailed for him. he was nothing but good, a man who only wanted peace and unity. she didn’t deserve to stand at his side, she didn’t expect his forgiveness …

       but if he could live through this war, that would be enough.

with their work done, the professor’s hand moves to return her blade to her belt, but is interrupted by the sound of a sudden cry — claude’s. her head snaps to the direction of the source, and from the far distance she’s able to spot his figure, on his knees , descending to the ground as the girl, monica, held a bloodied dagger over his body.

no — that can’t be. he can’t die like this.

      ❝ — ! ❞

not even a beat passes when she pulses, turning back the hands of time. her teeth gritting, she starts sprinting in the boy’s direction. never had she ran so fast, so desperately without hesitation. she wanted to protect him — and no other thought crossed her mind. as she watches the girl draw closer to him, she emerges from the ruins, voice reaching out to warn him.

      ❝ claude, behind you ! ❞

hearing her call, he seemed to have dodged in time to only get away with a wound his shoulder. creator sword extends, in an attempt to subdue the girl with a counterattack, but she was stopped by a barrier, a sinister stranger donning foreign robes who dared to meet her eyes. her gaze narrows, suspicious of him, but he disappears with the red-haired student, leaving her and claude.

there were many questions that plagued the teacher’s mind, but she rushes to his side. for now, what mattered was he made it out alive — that he could see another day.

      ❝ are you okay ? ❞ her hand reaches for his shoulder, helping him put pressure on his wound. ❝ the others are close. we’ll take you to the infirmary. ❞

  ❛ So forward, Teach… This must have really been on your mind then, huh? ❜ Typical teasing is the chosen response to the intrusive question, though the lack of smile and mischief in his eyes gave away his unwillingness to answer. How unfortunate to find himself in this situation, where he couldn’t at least vague his way around the question until they’d had enough. But his word was on the line here, and he did not want to prove unreliable- especially to her of all people.

  ❛ Well if you must have an answer, then I guess that I will answer it with another question in a typical me fashion. ❜ He finally speaks, empty smile replacing the blank expression on his face as to hide the discomfort of the situation. ❛ I guess the best way to put it is this: is anybody ever truly happy ? I mean- Maybe a few times in our fleeting existence, but in my experience it’s always bittersweet. ❜ He finally answers, completely unsatisfied with how vulnerable he felt in front of the women. ❛ But after I’m finished with the world, I think that will all soon change. ❜

❛ You’ll be there to help me see it through, right Teach ? ❜

      ❝ perhaps. ❞

her gaze stays on him, observing her student's countenance. it was a question that remained at the back of her mind ever since they'd first met. despite his tone, she could see the answer in his eyes. he was a puzzle she'd been familiar with, but one she had yet to solve. he was truly a schemer: answering in riddles, turning her curiosities into his philosophy — but it was one she could empathize with. after all, she was once numb to such an emotion.

      ❝ you make a fair case, ❞

arms fold over her chest, her own eyes showing a hint of concern. she hoped that one day, his smile would always reach his eyes.

he was a mystery since the day they first met. yet, after months of being his professor, his smile began to seem more sincere — while her own learned to form, a newfound warmth inspiring a small change in her. there is a small fondness in her eyes now, as she catches him at work, amused at the sight.