“You can hide the bags under your eyes with make up all you want, but I can see you nodding off whenever you get the chance,” he notes. “Have you been having trouble sleeping lately?”
Damn, and here she thought that she could nod off when no one was looking.
“…nightmares.” At least she wasn’t lying. It was simple enough of an answer right?
“Again? They’ve been coming more often haven’t they? Usually you get a good while until they come around again,” he sympathizes. “Are they from Before as usual?”
P’trik takes a seat down next to his daughter, relaxing his tired feet from patrol.
“You can hide the bags under your eyes with make up all you want, but I can see you nodding off whenever you get the chance,” he notes. “Have you been having trouble sleeping lately?”
“Morganna is going to try and find her original parents, but she’s got very little to go on. In the event that she doesn’t, she’ll keep her as her own. And seeing as how this is the only stable place Morganna’s got, this’ll be the only stable place Orilin has too. Our first granddaughter.”
“I suppose there are much less pleasant ways to getting a grandchild,” Daedra offered with an awkward smile. “I suppose Orilin must be an exceptionally lucky girl - being placed on your doorstep in particular. I hear stories of people simply placing them in orphanages without a care or concern.”
“She certainly is,” P’trik agrees. “Her name means ‘joyful-surplus.’ I wanted it to be related to Morganna’s merchant family.”
“You’re just as gentle hearted as my husband,” Cordelia notes, setting down a tray of biscuits and a pot of tea on the den’s low-table. “He can’t help taking in strays wherever he finds them.”
“Oh come now, you were the first one to scoop this babe out of Morganna’s arms as soon as she knocked on the door,” he argues back.
“Technically not. She’s new to the family. We don’t know who her parents are either. Morganna found her on her doorstep and immediately brought her here. We’re calling her Orilin for now.”
“Oh, I see,” the smaller tactician offered with a smile. “That’s a relief… I suppose. It’s a bit troubling to hear she was abandoned like that.”
Daedra takes a moment to shift the child in her arms more comfortable, letting her play with her fingers.
“What do you plan to do then? Simply keep her or perhaps try and find her family?”
“Morganna is going to try and find her original parents, but she’s got very little to go on. In the event that she doesn’t, she’ll keep her as her own. And seeing as how this is the only stable place Morganna’s got, this’ll be the only stable place Orilin has too. Our first granddaughter.”
“Technically not. She’s new to the family. We don’t know who her parents are either. Morganna found her on her doorstep and immediately brought her here. We’re calling her Orilin for now.”
So, I’m doing voluntary work on the Saturdays, teaching kids English and helping them with Humanities-Related areas, and, during snack breaks, or when waiting for their parents to arrive, I let them play FEH.
It’s fun, technically kinda child safe(specially since I don’t have any Swimsuit unit, Camilla, or Tharja), and completely in English, so, hey, it’s helping in their Class!
A girl (who has been pretty good at the game, all things considered) uses mostly units you’d expect a 9 year old girl to like based on design alone: Marisa, Fjorm, Mia, NY!Corrin and…
LA!Hector
He kinda sticks out.
Not only that, she gives clear preference to using Hector to kill stuff whenever possible.
This girl saw Hector and just experienced Love at First Sight, apparently. Of course she did.
I just hope that, 6 or so years from now, she’ll look back and remember the, in hindsight, probably gay, teacher that introduced her to first fictional crush.
Cordelia what’s your favorite body part to look at?
“Hmmm...I like to look at the face of a person as a whole,” she ponders. “I like seeing if their face is round or sharp; how their eyes glow or dull; do they have scars? Freckles? It’s so romantic, don’t you think?”
“There’s so much charm to a person’s face. Every wrinkle, line, and scar can tell such a different story.”
“However, if I’m feeling a little saucy, there’s something about looking at a man’s (or a woman’s) arms that just sets my heart racing,” she giggles.
An attendant approaches the retired knight in-waiting, gesturing to the door that lead to the library with a formal sitting area where tea and refreshments would be served. She had been through these paces before, but never once for her own personal business.
“The Exalt will see you now,” the attendant states, giving the woman a polite bow. The attendant opens the doors for the former knight to pass through, and then enters, closing the door behind them.
The redhead glances around at all of the books lining the shelves, smirking to herself with the knowledge that the current Exalt most definitely had not read the bulk of these tomes let alone a few of them. Footsteps draw her attention to the staircase behind her where the blue haired leader of their nation sauntered down with a glowing smile upon his face.
“Cordelia!” He greets, with his arms open wide. “What a pleasure to see you.”
“Thank you for meeting me like this, Chrom, I’m sure you have many more pressing matters to attend to,” she returns, curtsying politely.
“Anything for one of the finest of our Realm’s knights,” he replies. “Besides, Lucina has been learning the ropes quickly, especially with Frederick guiding her so well. What brings you to the castle? I can only assume that it’s important.”
“Important to me, yes; to the halidom, likely not,” she muses.
“Shall we sit then?” He invites, gesturing to the table and chairs, with a platter of baked goods, porcelain saucers and tea cups, and a pot of tea being precisely placed by the attendant.
The two take their seats, the chairs grazing the marble floors with padded feet to avoid scuffing. While the attendant pours each a cupful, Chrom asks, “How are P’trik and the girls? Lucina speaks fondly of missing Severa’s presence, and I don't think I've seen head nor tail of P’trik since Solstice.”
“They're all doing well and keeping busy. We both know our daughters are capable on their own these days, and P’trik has been hoisted with babysitting our granddaughter today.”
“So you're taking advantage of the situation,” Chrom chuckles, knowing full well how far in advance a personal meeting needed to be planned for his agenda. Responsibility wasn't something he ever wanted, but it was what he had. Sometimes, however, he could ensure that he made time for those whom he loved and trusted.
After exchanging their platitudes and catching up briefly, Chom motions for the attendant to take their leave so that his guest may get to the heart of the matter. Cordelia had been practising and rehearsing this for days in her head and the words still made her stomach flutter, but her heart was calm and her mind was clear. As the heavy oaken doors close shut with an audible thud, Chrom confirms, “Surely you didn't travel all the way from the country side just to exchange platitudes when letters could do, and you had requested to meet with me, rather than Sumia, so it must be something only I can do for you. What do you need from me, Cordelia?”
“My, you definitely weren't so perceptive in your youth,” Cordelia teases.
“Too many diplomatic meetings without my trusted tactician has forced me to sharpen my mind,” he answers, a low laugh escaping with his breath.
Cordelia takes a look into the Exalt’s calm blue eyes. His face had become grizzled like her husband's, only neater kempt. His hair, like hers, had begun to silver and wrinkles lined his eyes and were beginning to crease his brow. How she had dreamt of a younger face each night so many years ago. A moment passes by in silence like this before the Exalt cracks with a chuckle. “So, is there something you need or are you just here to admire my fine features?”
Cordelia takes a deep breath before saying what she has waited literally decades to say aloud: “I’m in love with you, Chrom. Ever since I was a little girl.”
Chrom blushes at the words, dumb founded by the admission. She expected this. At the end of the day both her husband and her best friend’s were nothing but foolish boys running around in grown beards.
“But it's not the kind of love that we share with our loved ones,” she continues. “It's naive, and it’s superficial. It's child-like and quiet, and shy. There's no passion, there’s no trust, and there’s no bond. Only that of a small girl’s dream of being a princess and finding a happy ever after.”
Each word of hers seems to calm down the Exalt sitting across from her as he slowly realizes the depth and purpose of her confession.
“When I was a girl, all I could think of was marrying the prince and being whisked away to live in the castle. I never thought or knew of anything or any life after that would happen.
As a knight and woman, all I could think about was serving loyally by your side. The dream persisted, but I pushed it down and put it away. It was a dream I knew that was not meant to be, I’d keep reminding myself. That you were always just a bit further out of reach. It used to be painfully lonely to be in love with a man I could not have. I even dreamt of death…”
The woman's eyes gaze down towards her cup, still half full of tea and cooled off to the point of gulping without consequence. A deep sigh. Her eyes close, and another moment passes by before she takes a deep breath, and looks back up to the man she had loved for so long, looking him once again right in the eyes, her own filled with knowing and conviction.
“But I found another man who sustains me and several daughters I can be proud of. They lit the darkness of my life and helped me to pull through on my own two feet. My duty to you became simply my duty to the throne. The sense of longing no longer haunted me. I had been so afraid as a young woman. Afraid of being rejected; afraid of being pitied; afraid of having my happiness turned away; of being given only because they felt sorry, not because they loved me. But I'm not afraid anymore because I know that the happiness I've found has been duly earned, and well deserved, and the love freely given.
If I have any regrets in this life they are words left unspoken and feelings left unexpressed. I know in my heart of hearts that there will always be a young girl who’s still in love with you in the way that only a child can know such love. But as a woman my love belongs to a man who loves me for who I am.”
Her words trail off and the two once again sit in silence as eyes, red and blue, gaze at each other and seek nothing but the peace currently between them.
Chrom once again breaks off first, his gaze now staring out the window to the horizon of a past that may have been should words have been said and hearts expressed.
“Perhaps back then, I could have too. But now’s not the time for speculation.” Who knows. Would he? It's hard to say right now, he thinks. But he too, like the woman across from him, had a wife and family he could not imagine a life without. Would he have handled her feelings well? Respectably? He had turned down many a suitor in his youth, all of which he knew were fleeting or boring or seeking something or someone that wasn't actually him. It was a big responsibility, to be tasked with someone else’s emotions. What you say and do, and how you do it, has a lasting impact on their lives. So all he could do now, was handle her’s responsibly.
“Thank you for your kind words,” he replies. “It warms my heart to know that someone of such accomplishment saw in this foolish man, a man worth living for. But I too have a woman whom I love more than any other in the Realm, and with her my heart belongs.”
“Thank you also for listening to the words of a woman long matured, from a heart that was once naive. It does my heart well to be relieved of such and old burden.”
“As Exalt, the people's burden are my own,” he recites. “And yours are no exception.” He arises from the table, chair making an irritated noise as it rubs along the floor. “Shall we take our leave of each other now?”
“Yes. I believe I have taken up enough of your time as is, m’lord. Thank you for granting a kind and open ear.”
“I would have it bent by none other,” he muses. The two share a brief embrace, and when they release, years of tension slide off the shoulders of one, and ease the brief tension of the other. Two hearts would be better for this this day.
As Cordelia takes her leave, Chrom goes off in search for his own beloved, who stood waiting for him not nearby, watching as her beloved friend departed on pegasus. “Did you have a wholesome chat?” She asks.
“Yes, it was quite fulfilling,” he notes. “Did you always know?”
“Oh, she tried to hide her feelings but it always showed,” Sumia replied. “I always felt guilty, like I had stolen you away from under her, until she and P’trik had started to get along and I saw her heal gradually each day. Her gaze would lessen on you, and she’d sigh less deeply whenever you passed by; eventually those sighs of longing turned into sighs of relief, and eventually to none at all.”
“And I never noticed at all,” Chrom realizes.
“You never were one to notice subtle things, Captain,” she teases. “It took crashing into you and a room full of pies to finally get you to notice me.”
“A swift punch as well,” he chuckles. Taking her about the waist he pulls her in close and kisses her forehead, which she lovingly returns upon his lips, and the couple watches the sun dip below the horizon.
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