Obscene Symphony

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

_{@Achronum @Kestrel @Eleven}

Jorah expected the bell to indicate freedom and a chance to explore the monastery grounds, but as luck would have it, his unit apparently had the distinguished honour of attending extra classes. Great. Being hand-picked by the Archbishop himself was cool and all, but less free time and closer supervision? How was he supposed to sneak out of class now?

Ha, but at least he probably wasn’t the only one put out. Kayden couldn’t have been pleased either; it was hard to get a read on him with so many other people close by, but judging by the haste he’d tried to make away from the Black Eagles classroom at the bell and the fact that a good chunk of his house’s students were in attendance, he probably hadn’t been able to make the grand escape he’d been hoping for. Clarissa’s mood, however, surprised him: he’d expected her to be happy enough to sprout pegasus wings and fly off to the Blue Sea Star at the idea of having been hand-chosen by the Archbishop himself, but the mood emanating from her was much closer to that businesslike way she got about her during Roundtable debates than anything he’d call ‘joyous’. There was something on her mind, but for the life of him he couldn’t guess what. They were chosen by the Church to handle upcoming discord or something; it was practically a fairytale written and addressed to Clarissa von Edmund personally! What was there to be so concerned about?

Resolving to ask her later, Jorah did put in a token effort to pay attention in hopes he could avoid another tongue-lashing before he got his answer. Lysander’s speech wasn’t what Jorah would have called ‘riveting’, but Michail’s suggestion afterward certainly got his ears pricked. Introductions, eh? Jorah would usually have waited to take the spotlight at the end, but something told him that the room might need a little more encouraging than the verbal stumbling of the professors. He didn’t need to wait for the students’ response; he already knew a good show was just the spark they’d need!

“What a splendid idea, Professor! Allow me to add to my housemate’s introduction,” he exclaimed, raising a hand and throwing all pretense of staying in Clarissa’s good graces to the wind. Rather than stand, he leapt out of his seat in one smooth motion, jumping up and planting his feet unexpectedly delicately on the bench behind him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am Jorah von Riegan, House Leader of the Golden Deer, connoisseur of Derdriu's market district, and foremost thorn in Duke Riegan’s side,” he introduced himself boldly, giving a cocky flourish like a tavern bard rounding up an audience. “I love tavern songs in good company and long rides in the woods—and I’m pretty fond of horses as well.” He punctuated that comment with a wink to the first girl he laid eyes on, a tiny little thing with candy-pink hair, before shrugging. “I’m not too fond of bland food or instruments played off-key, but get me into a celebrating mood and there won’t be much you can do to get me out of it. I do hope our paths will cross in good spirits again throughout the year.”

He concluded his introduction with a satisfied nod and let himself fall back down into his seat, leaning back with a self-satisfied grin and a knowing, mischievous look shot at Raimund. He wasn’t sure if his friend had gone and re-learned his manners in their time apart, but surely he wouldn’t let himself be upstaged—and if Clarissa’s head was going to explode, he wanted someone else with him in the splash zone.

Of Blood and Magic

Aaron stayed in the kitchen a little while longer after Lilie left, though even with no one to call him out on it, he could hardly pretend to be doing much more than biding his time. There was only so much adjusting one could do to a tray full of crystal glasses, and it simply didn’t take very long to get the next bottle ready for serving. Thankfully, his exchange with Lilie had helped calm him down, and he was feeling a lot less anxious, if not a little disappointed. Although, he supposed he had no right to be disappointed over something he had no right to expect, did he?

Coming to terms with the fact that his quick pause to get rid of his jitters was turning into procrastination - and the fact that dwelling on his conversation with Lilie would only serve to dampen his already fragile mood - he forcibly turned his mind back to the party, addressing a wide, shallow box on one of the counters. Inside were an array of small pastries from the bakery in town, ordered in for the occasion. Aaron himself was well and truly tired of the things, any inkling of hunger disappearing as soon as the sweet smell of them hit his nose, but no one could deny their quality; the mages should be pleased.

Quickly arranging them on a serving tray, he finally made his return to the living room, catching the end of a conversation about Academy professors and their respective ‘quirks’. “It sounds like I’ve been a little bit cheated,” he commented airily, offering pastries to each guest before depositing the tray on the table, “Compared to that, my affinity professor sounds remarkably tame.” He looked inquisitively around the room. “You don’t all have eccentric professors, do you?”

_{Responding to @Achronum and @Scribe of Thoth’s conversation but addressing everyone}

TOP 10 GREATEST RP FAILURES NOT CLICKBAIT YOU WON’T BELIEVE THESE TRUE STORIES 😱😱😱

Shoutout to Prized Bride that died and rose again 5 fuckin times before being buried

Why Is No One Joining My RP (General Advice Thread)

Here's a tip free of charge: don't keep a tally of your failed RPs, cause that's literally just a discouragement machine in the forefront of your mind. Anyone who's been RPing for a few years or more probably has dozens, if not hundreds, of failed RPs under their belt, but they also probably can't even remember most of them cause they moved on rather than dwelling on it.

Think of it this way. If we ranked hockey players by how many shots they missed and not by how many goals they scored, even the best of the best would look like hot garbage.

Why Is No One Joining My RP (General Advice Thread)

Some tips in no particular order:

The thing people don't brag about when they celebrate their RPs' 1, 2, 3+ year anniversaries are the 95%+ of their other RPs that died in the first month. It's a death-heavy hobby, if you can't cope with that then you might be better off writing solo. I've been at this for over 7 years and do you know how many of the RPs I've been in lasted a year or more? Three. And of those, only one ever got an actual ending. We're in this because it's fun while it lasts, not because we think every RP will last forever.

Reputation is e x t r e m e l y important. If you're new and don't have much posting history for people to look at (or if you mainly RP in PMs), write up some writing samples (or some previous RP posts you're particularly proud of) in a Gallery thread for potential partners or GMs to peruse. If you have a history of making an ass of yourself in the OOC, you'll have a hard time. Et cetera.

Honestly evaluate your skill level and write at that level. Not everyone is cut out for Advanced or even High Casual, and that's okay. Write with people of a similar skill level (no shame in dipping into Free if that's where you fit), be receptive to criticism and take an interest in improving your writing and you WILL get better, and in turn you'll have more options open to you. Because yes, the quality of your writing often DOES matter to potential partners/GMs. You might not like it, but it's true; and luckily, it's entirely within your control to change.

Most of all, be willing to put in the work. Focus on making every post better than your last and over time you will get results. Better yet, your partners and group members will recognize the effort you put in, and hopefully appreciate you for it. What WON'T get you results, though, is giving up because you think you're doomed or that nobody "understands." Life isn't fair, nothing worth doing is easy, you don't always get rewarded for your efforts, and the only good way to cope with it is to keep trying anyway.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

_{@Hero @Scribe of Thoth}

Jorah nodded along with Euphemia’s explanation, paying a modicum more attention than he had back in the classroom—if only because at this distance, she’d probably be more likely to notice when his attention wandered from her words to things more… exciting. He got the gist of his new duties, at least: weekly meetings with the professor (which he certainly wouldn’t be missing), monthly conferences with other House Leaders, and assigning group tasks. He had to wonder whether he’d get in trouble if he assigned himself to stable duty each week; if the knight on Euphemia’s shoulder was to be believed, Jorah was eager to acquaint himself with Garreg Mach’s horses. Would rides off monastery grounds be okay? He was never really one to ask permission before asking forgiveness, but it’d be useful to know in advance if his casual afternoon rides would be interrupted by a game of hide-and-seek with the Knights of Seiros. He didn’t even know the nooks and crannies of this place yet—they’d have an advantage!

His wandering thoughts were interrupted by the last thing Euphemia said, and he had to contain a laugh. She had high expectations of him because he was heir to House Riegan? For “proper conduct” of all things? She really must have been guessing when she claimed to know him before; either that or she was parroting whatever his father had said when he bribed the Academy into making a leader out of his good-for-nothing son.

But that did leave Jorah at a crossroads: Embrace his role as House Leader and all the responsibilities (and hopefully, perks) that went along with it, or go his usual airheaded way to spite his father? The latter would usually be the obvious choice, and Jorah couldn’t deny that there was a not-so-small part of him that got some sick satisfaction from the idea of his father wasting a king’s ransom on tuition and bribes only for his son to come home just as useless as he started. But on the other hand, shirking his duties would get Clarissa up his ass in riding boots, and surely displease his dear Euphemia. The idea of detention with Professor Euphemia and Priscilla might have been intriguing enough to make his decision for him, but something told him this whole “monastery” business would probably take the fun out of what he had in mind.

Ugh, all this thinking made his head hurt; yet another reason all this “heir to House Riegan” nonsense was better left to Delia. Luckily, an excellent excuse to shelve his indecision came along just then, in the form of a very uptight-looking blond who gave off the same reverent, duty-bound aura as half the clergy, asking after Professor Kalonic. Jorah returned the boy’s nod with a raise of his brow; wasn’t Euphemia Professor Kalonic? Unless she wanted a blond on each arm—which Jorah certainly couldn’t fault her for—he was pretty sure it was him she’d summoned in class, not whoever this was. Then again, it was very possible she summoned him for something else that he’d missed while he was daydreaming.

Strangely, though, the knight she’d been beating was the one who spoke up, introducing himself as Michail Kalonic. Wait, he wasn’t Euphemia’s husband, was he? Jorah wouldn’t mind, but he’d prove an annoying obstacle if that was the case. But no, he couldn’t be—same hair, same eyes, same skin tone, he was probably her brother or cousin or something. Luckily for Jorah, he seemed a pretty good sport; he’d been chased off by more than enough angry brothers to last him a good while yet.

By the sound of the conversation, Michail was the Blue Lions’ professor—and delegating his explanatory duties to yours truly. Jorah wasn’t sure how he felt about being relegated to errand boy—or Little Riegan—but he supposed he’d been called worse. Besides, as Michail said, part of his duty as House Leader was to foster good inter-house relations, and he’d never turn down an opportunity to make himself look good in front of Euphemia.

Tapping his chin, he peered at his stiff new fellow House Leader, eventually giving him a nod of approval. “Galatea, that’s that family that broke off from House Daphnel, right? We’re practically cousins!” he exclaimed, standing on his toes to throw a friendly arm around the shoulders of his taller, as-yet unidentified friend. “So then, cousin, it sounds like our new duties as House Leaders are pretty simple. We’re the ones our fellow students follow into battle, the ones they look to when all seems lost, the ones who get things done when no one else can. Pretty cool, right?” Jorah wasn’t sure if he agreed, but the way he said it all in his storytelling voice did make it sound pretty glamorous.

“Otherwise, we do have some more mundane stuff to do,” he continued. “There’s meetings with our professors on Mondays where we get to practice the storied art of paperwork by letting them know what our underlings are working on; monthly conferences with the other House Leaders where we bring an assistant and solve some problem to get the three countries chummy with each other; and then we assign two students each week to do chores for the monastery on Saturdays. I think the three we choose from are stable duty, weeding, and sky patrol.” He counted each duty and task on his fingers, pausing a moment at the end to make sure he didn’t forget anything.

When he was satisfied he hadn’t, he threw a grin at… whatever his name was. “Not too bad, right?” he asked, not entirely sure of the answer himself. He looked around the courtyard, frowning thoughtfully. “Have you seen the Eagles’ leader yet? What say we track them down, get these inter-house relations rolling?” he tossed a wink Euphemia’s way at that, finally releasing his new friend and putting a hand on his hip. “Oh, and what did you say your name was?”

Greetings! Candy Cane Service!

Thank you to whoever sent me a candy cane! That was very nice to wake up to ^_^

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

_@Hero

Jorah straightened at the touch of the rod - Priscilla - under his chin, a fire igniting in his eyes just as Euphemia’s was extinguished. He barely heard half of what she said, too focused on the way she said it; poised just so with Priscilla in hand, that intoxicating air of superiority in her voice, blonde curls cascading down over tempting curves and perky—

Oh Goddess, Jorah was in love.

This was the point where Delia would roll her eyes and say he was the type who fell in love every night only to recover each morning, but this time it was different. And not like all the other “this” times—this was the real deal! But amidst all his pining, Jorah also happened to miss most of what Euphemia said, tuning back in just in time to hear her ask if he had any questions for her. Of course he did! He'd be a fool to interrupt a siren like Euphemia without something of substance to ask. “Will you marry me?” was the first one that came to mind, followed by “Want some company tonight?” and “How can I further acquaint myself with Priscilla?”, but he supposed it might come off a little desperate to move too fast; best to break the ice first with what he came for.

“Why, yes I do Professor,” he obliged, offering Euphemia a sweeping bow. “I was hoping you could shed some light on my new duties as Golden Deer House Leader. A little extra time spent with you, dare I hope?” He stood up from his bow with a wink, perching a hand on his hip. “I assure you, I am eager to assist in any way I can.”

Of Blood and Magic

Aaron jumped at the sound of a voice behind him, bumping one of the crystal glasses he was arranging and narrowly avoiding knocking over the others. Sun and stars, he was more tense than he thought. And to think the evening had started out so smoothly!

He turned around to the source of the voice, finding to his surprise that it was Lilie, empty glass in hand, and having somehow gotten all the way to the sink without him noticing. Right, he was so busy having a meltdown in the kitchen he forgot to check on the mages in the living room; just the extra blemish on his performance he needed tonight. He cleared his throat, standing a little straighter in an effort to look a bit more together than he was. “Oh, sorry about that, I suppose I was a little wrapped up in what I was doing,” he offered lamely, mostly ignoring her question. “Can I get you another drink?”

Lilie frowned at him, a little concerned. He really was tense! She figured he needed just a little comforting, gently touching his arm. “No, you’ve done enough,” She assured him. “But...I’m worried about you. Is everything okay? You’re not usually so jumpy.”

Aaron glanced away, letting out a sigh. He was jumpy, wasn’t he? Stressed or not, that was no way to act around guests. If he was tense, he’d make them uncomfortable - case in point, Lilie was apparently worried enough to seek him out in the kitchen - and if Varis saw him behaving noticeably stiff there’d be hell to pay.

“That’s sweet, thank you,” he replied, closer to his usual voice than he had been all night. He’d give her that much, at least; more coverups would probably worry her more than the truth anyway, and, well… he had to admit, it felt nice to have someone concerned about him. He patted her hand on his arm, offering a small smile. “I’m fine, really. Tonight is just a big deal for me, that’s all. Gotta make sure everything is perfect.”

Giving him what she hoped was a comforting smile, Lilie nodded, reluctantly pulling her hand back. It was good to hear him be a little normal again, so maybe she had been worried for nothing. Still, there had to be something more she could do, right? Not that she could think of anything. As she watched him carefully she realized that this was the first time they were alone all night. The thought was enough to make her feel more conscious than usual, her heart beating a little faster than before.

Feeling a little more confident, she cleared her throat. "You always make things perfect," She told him. "I mean, you're always working so hard! And if people can't see that effort, then honestly they aren't worth it."

Did that sound lame? It kinda did. What could she say to salvage this? Maybe compliment him? "You're honestly amazing. I mean it," She added.

Aaron was a little sad to see Lilie pull her hand away, though in the long moment that followed, his disappointment fell to the wayside. He hadn’t realized it at first, but this was the first time tonight he’d really had the chance to look at her; he noticed her dress when she arrived, sure, but there’d been no time to notice just how delicately the beads on her dress trailed her shoulders, the gentle shimmer on her cheekbones, how the colour of the chiffon made her eyes shine. She was as elegant as any mage he’d ever seen at any royal gathering, like a flower in full bloom. Suddenly, he felt foolish that he didn’t make time to notice.

Her words brought him back to the present, and despite the fact that Aaron was sure she was exaggerating - that he always made things perfect was far-fetched to say the least - for a moment, he believed them. For the first time that evening, he relaxed, the ache in his shoulders testament to how tense he’d really been. After nights and nights running around at Varis’ behest, suffocating under the pressure of this party, that little tiny bit of gratification Lilie offered was like a long-awaited breath of fresh air.

“You’re amazing too,” he finally managed to croak out, a little quieter as he tried to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. He reached toward her, trailing his fingers down her arm to retrieve her hand. Before his courage could leave him, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, though he bashfully dropped his gaze to the floor the moment he was done. “Thank you, Lilie. I… really needed to hear that tonight.”

"Ah…" the sound escaped her, caught between a word and...actually Lilie had no idea what she was trying to say. The feeling of her hand in his was a little too nice, her heart fully racing in her chest as he held it. The thought of interlacing their fingers came to mind, but Aaron decided to surprise her by raising her hand to his lips. She honestly could have passed out--how she remained standing was a mystery--but her eyes were wide, watching him. He wasn’t looking at her, his expression painfully shy, but she had to admit she really liked it. He was never like this around anyone, making her feel like he trusted her.

Of course, between mind and what she did was a little disconnected, frozen in place as she blushed like crazy--she was pretty sure her face was red. Should she say something? But what could possibly beat what he said?! Should she tell him how much she appreciated him? Was this the right time to confess? Was it?! Lilie couldn't help but panic a little, especially as she felt Aaron’s hand starting to let go. Without thinking, she held on tighter, trying to make sure he stayed. Stayed for what, though?!

"Aaron, I…" Lilie felt her words die in her throat, looking away from the blond. As much as she wanted to say what she really wanted, however, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. "...I'll always be here for you." She quietly said.

Aaron finally looked back up at Lilie when he felt her squeeze his hand tighter, immensely relieved that his little risk hadn’t blown up in his face. Her cheeks were red, which was heart-melting in its own right, and he couldn’t blame her; he could feel his ears getting hot as well, and this time didn’t have the luxury of his hair to hide both of them. Strangely, though, he wasn’t concerned. Lilie made it clear that all this propriety meant nothing to her, so if he could ease down his attendant persona for even just a moment for her, he was happy to do it.

What she said next, though, was what really grabbed his attention. She sounded like she wanted to say something, but hesitated. Aaron’s stomach fluttered as he waited; he had an idea of what she was trying to say, and he wanted to hear it too. That moment of hesitation stretched for what felt like an age, something strong and longing pulling at Aaron’s chest as he waited with bated breath, until finally, she… came to her senses.

He was quiet for a moment, processing Lilie’s words. No, of course, he was silly to get his hopes up like that. Who admits their feelings in the kitchen, hiding from a party? To him of all people? He was probably reading too far into things. Lilie was sweet, and wonderful, and perfect, and so, so kind, but she wasn’t an idiot. If he was mistaking kindness for something more, that was on him, not her.

The quiet, optimistic part of him wondered if maybe she was just as shy as he was, but he pushed it away. Even on the off chance that was the case, it wouldn’t do to let false hope distract him from doing his job.

Returning her squeeze with his own, Aaron nodded. “I will too, don’t worry,” he promised her, patting her hand. He held her hand a moment longer, but too soon that quiet moment was over, and he had to untangle her hand from his.

“I have to go back out there soon,” he reasoned gently, fetching a new glass and a pitcher of water as he spoke. “Here,” he poured the glass and handed it to Lilie, offering a smile. It was clear his serving persona was closing back over him, reinvigorated from their talk despite that one speedbump of disappointment. “I’ll be back out in a few minutes, okay?”

Lilie tried hard not to look too disappointed, mentally berating herself. Why was she such a coward? No, this probably wasn't the time or place anyway. If she was going to confess, she would rather have something more romantic and memorable...even if her hair was perfect right now and her makeup was perfect. Ugh, why did she have to get in her own way? Still, it wasn’t good to linger, even if she would rather stay with Aaron. But soon enough he was back to his "butler" self, and she had to admit it was the perfect excuse to go sulk in the seating room.

"Yeah, sure," Lilie nodded, gratefully taking the water. "I'll see you, then." She gave him another smile before walking back to the sitting room, wallowing.

_{Collab with @Hero}

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

_{Collab with @ThatCharacter}

If professor Lysander noticed her stumbling, he didn’t comment on it, much to Lienna’s relief. In fact, he was perfectly kind and courteous; so much so that Lienna might have suspected some ulterior motive if not for the fact that the man looked like one of those charitable types who lived and breathed for the service of others. The attitude struck an odd nostalgic chord in her, and Lienna wondered if he might have been better off in the clergy than the Academy. Of course, she supposed the two might not be so separate at Garreg Mach.

The room assignment was a bit more of a pain. Commoners on the ground floor and nobles on the second? Lienna had never even set foot in a building with two stories until meeting with Count Francis, but she still couldn’t help but feel a little slighted. She made this engagement—demanded tuition to this very school—to escape the lot of “commoner”, but she had a sinking suspicion that they’d slap her on the ground floor all the same. Great. Maybe one of the nobles would be interested in trading; hells, the one over by the clump of angry professors making eyes at the blonde looked like he might appreciate a more direct route to drag girls back to his bedroom, and he couldn’t be the only one.

But that was beside the point; a pang in her stomach reminded her of the real goal here. As nice as Professor Lysander was, Lienna wasn’t interested in having him tag along on her heel only to chat her up outside her dormitory door. “Oh, no, that’s kind of you but I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she insisted, offering him the best version of a smile she could muster at the moment. Though when she moved to take her leave in the direction he indicated, she barely got two steps before another professor-looking type—this time with green hair—stopped her in her tracks, telling her she looked pale.

Lienna nearly scoffed. She looked pale? She’d looked pale since the day she was born, what of it? But apparently this one was the Academy nurse, so maybe she meant she looked ill. That was well enough, she supposed; Lienna had never seen a healer before, so she didn’t know how effective it would be, but she could certainly do without the stone in her stomach.

“Oh, alright,” she accepted the offer, “how does that work?”

Kaira beckoned for Lienna to follow her a few paces away from the other professors, and once she determined they had enough space, examined the student carefully. A small hum escaped her lips, but she remained otherwise unconcerned. “I’ll be quick about it, I’m sure you’d prefer spending your time wisely,” She assured her.

Raising her hand in the air, a glyph made of light appeared before her, magic rushing forward towards Lienna. Visually, it was bright and flashy, albeit it was over as quickly as it came; what was more pressing than the light show was the relief washing over Lienna, much like the feeling of warming up next to a fire after coming in from a rainy day.

Glyph and light alike faded, leaving only Kaira in front of her. “Have your symptoms lessened a little, at least?” She asked her.

Lienna flinched when a sudden rush of light came at her, but the impact she braced for never came; instead, she felt warm and comfortable, the knot in her stomach easing until it was gone.

“Uh, yeah,” she answered quietly, consciously relaxing her shoulders and straightening up. After a few deep breaths, she cleared her throat, doing her best to hide her embarrassment. “Um, thank you.”

Kaira beamed at Lienna, clasping her hands together. “You’re very welcome!” She replied. “If you’re ever in need, please don’t be afraid to seek me out.”

Lienna simply nodded and moved back toward the edge of the courtyard, still a little shocked over her first experience with white magic. Magic as a whole was still fairly foreign—the one spell she knew was a bit of black magic that resulted from the time her grandmother tried to teach her how to light a fire, only for her to produce the opposite effect—and having it thrust on her without so much as a word of warning was jarring, to say the least. Still, she couldn't deny some relief that the pain in her stomach was gone, finally able to stand a little straighter.

Now that she felt better, though, she had a new problem she hadn’t bothered to predict; without her stomach ache, she had no good excuse not to acquaint herself with her new classmates. Ugh, how didn’t she think of that? Sure, she could pretend and slink off to her room anyway, but given that making connections was the whole reason she wanted to attend the Officers’ Academy in the first place, it wouldn’t do to shy away now.

But where to start? Skulk shamefully back into the classroom with that pompous House Leader after just having rushed out? “Oh yes, sorry, I was sickened by your speech but I’ve since recovered, how do you do?” Yeah, excellent first impression. Lienna could have slapped herself for her own indecision. This was going to be a long year if she couldn’t even pretend to know what she was doing around nobles.

Not far from Lienna, Kellen Fraldarius was working up the will to unstick himself from the comforting embrace of a stone wall. While he had been standing there, he could hear Auberon and another student speaking, and while he knew better than to eavesdrop, he was sure he had heard the other student say that they were in the same unit. If Kellen remembered correctly, there was one other member from their house who would form part of the cross-nation unit. And some little piece of him was convinced that the pale girl who had just been treated by the school’s nurse was the Lienna Orhneaht whose name was scrawled on the board. Best of all, based on her name—and the brusque way she had earlier exited the classroom—it appeared as though she was a commoner! The thought that at least one student in his house didn’t recognize or care about his name made him breathe a sigh of relief, and that sigh proved to be enough to take a step away from the wall. Her earlier decisiveness in exiting the class appeared to have dissipated. Pushing up his sleeves, he walked over to her.

“Sorry, are you Lienna? I realized when I introduced myself that you had already departed, and I think we’ll be working together quite a bit. If you’re Lienna, of course. If you’re not, please pretend this never happened.” Kellen paused for half a second, looking away. Then, his back straightened. “I’m Kellen, either way.” He nodded, more to himself than to her.

Lienna whipped around a bit too fast at the sound of a voice, hearing her name having torn her a little suddenly out of her frustrated reverie. Luckily, the figure behind her wasn’t the prim, proper, and doubtless unimpressed noble classmate she expected, but someone decidedly less… put together. It was a short boy—well, still taller than her, but that wasn’t much of an accomplishment—with dark hair and an ill-fitting uniform, looking about as uncomfortable as she was. She wasn’t sure how he guessed her name—was she really that obvious when she shot out of the room?—but didn’t dwell on it, making haste to uncross her arms and look at least a little approachable.

“I am Lienna, in fact. Pleased to meet you,” she gave him that much, eyeing him up and down. Kellen, Kellen… she knew she’d seen that name briefly on the board, but his surname escaped her just as quickly. Given the state of his uniform, she doubted he was a noble… maybe he was that B-name she’d glossed over? Ballad or something?

Either way, she would admit it was a bit of a relief not to have to worry about botching her noble pleasantries with the first person she met—even if she did have to think about learning the noble ropes sooner rather than later if she wanted any hope of forging connections worth a damn. If nothing else, Kellen would be a good start; he seemed harmless enough.

“I am sorry for leaving so quickly. I’m not used to traveling, so I was feeling a little… weary,” she decided to try her hand at small talk, not noticing until she began that she hadn’t done much of any kind of talking in… oh, she could barely remember how long. Probably since Oma got sick. Really, it was a wonder her voice wasn’t hoarse and rusty. “I came all the way from the northern edge of Gautier territory, after all. Yourself?”

“Oh thank the Goddess.” A bit of colour came back to Kellen’s face as his gambit paid off. His left hand curled into a ball absent-mindedly as she introduced herself. After several months on the campaign, the mere use of phrases like “pleased to meet you” felt foreign. “It’s quite the journey if you’re not used to it. Even if you are, it’s taxing.” He recalled the trip to Garreg Mach with Anton. A hint of a frown played across his features, but it disappeared quickly at mention of Gautier territory.
“North end of Gautier territory? It gets awfully cold up there.” He glanced at his attire, rolling his shoulders back to readjust the loose jacket. “Uniforms like these wouldn’t do us much good up there. Not that they’re doing much good now, either.”

The girl’s question of his home made him realize that, perhaps subconsciously, he had failed to offer his last name. Now secure in his knowledge that the girl was indeed a commoner, he felt comfortable sharing it. “I’m from the Duchy of Fraldarius. And, erm. I’m also named after said Duchy. Well, named after my father, whose father’s father’s father’s—” The repeated instances grew quieter until he stopped himself. “Well, anyway. I’m one of the Duke’s sons. I’m the youngest though, and my sister seems to have everything sorted so the lineage hardly matters.”

The stone that Kaira had so extravagantly teased out of Lienna’s stomach moments before came crashing back with a vengeance at the name Fraldarius. This kid was a Fraldarius? Lienna raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if he was trying to pull something on her. No, no way this kid in a too-large uniform tripping over his own words was a Fraldarius. Younger sibling or not, Lienna found it hard to picture any noble carrying on so… so… ugh, the word escaped her, but Kellen definitely wasn’t acting like a noble. Not that she’d met any—aside from Count Francis for about forty-five minutes—but surely the family lauded as “The King’s Shield” carried themselves with their noses a bit higher in the air than Kellen did.

But fine, if he wanted to be that way, Lienna could fire back. “Oh, of course. I didn’t realize a Fraldarius was attending this year,” she replied, an air of haughty indifference in her voice. It was how she’d always imagined nobles talking—and the Galatea preaching to the Blue Lions class had so far proven her right—so if she was going to marry into nobility, she might as well start acting like it. “What a coincidence. I’m Lienna Orhneaht, betrothed to Count Francis Gautier. He sponsored me to attend the Officers’ Academy this year.”

Lienna had no idea whether the wife of a Count outranked the child of a Duke, but she wasn’t about to show it. “The Gautiers intermarry with the Fraldarius’ sometimes, right? Are you by any chance related?”

Kellen reeled at the sudden change in tenor of the conversation. It was a horrible sensation to see in real-time how the mention of his name could flip things, but he chose to push it aside in favour of the far less distressing matter. “You’re engaged to Uncle Francis!? But he’s…” Old. Kellen wanted to say old, but in a rare instance of good judgement, his brain had stopped him before he did so. It wasn’t as if Kellen wasn’t aware of precedents, or that Francis was in bad shape. But it was rare indeed to see a young woman who had entered into such a situation continue with her independent endeavours, let alone attending the Officer’s Academy.

Kellen titled his head slightly, realizing the scope of the minefield he was stepping into. “I haven’t seen him in quite some time. Is he well?” Kellen mentally patted himself on the back for the seamless pivot. “My mother was a Gautier, originally. Grandpa had a… reputation, so Mother has plenty of siblings—I used to have a book—but luckily Francis is one of the ones I remember!” But how much did he remember? Kellen tried to rack his brains for memories with the man, but found that he could recall precious little. Rhiannon, as she often did, had handled most of the conversations while Kellen and his cousins fought and played around the keep. He was sure, however, that at the time they had last seen each other, he did not have Lienna in tow. “How’d you two meet?”

Ah, crap. This kid really was a Fraldarius, wasn’t he? Lienna couldn’t claim to know the family trees of families Gautier and Fraldarius, but if Kellen was putting on an act, it’d be awfully strange to memorize all the names and none of the noble decorum. For lack of a better option, she’d have to assume he was telling the truth, and that this unkempt, uncomfortable classmate of hers was somehow her future nephew. Ugh, all this complicated noble family business was already starting to give her a headache.

“He seemed fine when I met with him last,” Lienna answered simply, crossing her arms in front of her. Her usual icy demeanour—much more familiar to her than all this friendly first impression nonsense—settled back over her at his next question. How’d they meet? Couldn’t he guess? Counts and commoners weren’t in the habit of cavorting—unless you counted some Gautiers from off-colour stories Oma never wanted her to hear—and if someone like her from a remote place like Hima could hear that Count Francis was Crestless and desperately in need of an heir, then surely his own nephew could have gotten the hint.

“Well, you know how people talk,” she shrugged, deciding to indulge him. She had nothing to hide; she wasn’t ashamed of her arrangement. “I bear the Minor Crest of Gautier, and Count Francis needs an heir. An engagement was an elegant solution to both our problems.”

Apparently the news that Kellen was, in fact, related to Lienna’s betrothed was less welcome than he had expected. In the span of two minutes, the pleasantries had disappeared and Kellen was left facing a wall of cold. Of course, he wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact that a relative-to-be would be observing him during this year. It seemed she also bore some concerns, though Kellen had difficulty pinpointing exactly what they were.

Still, he pressed on. “Oh! Of course, I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m glad he’s alright.” The mention of a Crest lined things up quickly for Kellen. Here was yet another person whose Crest had set their life in a new direction, though Kellen supposed for Lienna it was a marked improvement. However, he did not want to engage on the subject and deflect the questions that might follow. “Then that’s how you’re here. Hopefully by your choice?” Of course it was by her choice. The sort of money it cost to attend the academy was not a paltry sum, and it was unlikely Francis had volunteered to send her off before they were married.

“Yes, of course,” Lienna replied, maybe a little more sharply than was necessary. Maybe the new clothes changed her a bit, but she was pretty sure she didn’t look like some shrinking violet here against her will. She better not, anyway; though standing around aimlessly probably hadn’t helped. But she would concede that her arrangement was probably an uncommon one, so maybe Kellen was right to be surprised. She perched a hand on her hip, trying to think of a good way to describe it. “I suppose you could say my Crest was my dowry, and my attendance here is… change.”

That probably wasn’t right, but she wouldn’t dwell on it. “In any case, I suppose it’s lucky we’re both here. Future family and all that,” she added quickly. Even she had to admit that getting to know one of her future nephews was probably wise; it’d be good to have some solid foundations in the family should she ever need a favour. Besides, Kellen seemed harmless enough, he probably didn’t deserve the attitude she’d been giving him. And if she wanted his help—someone had to teach her the names of her future relatives if she didn’t want to make a fool of herself—then it was probably prudent to get on his good side.

Mustering up a bashful smile, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, it’s just all rather overwhelming,” she admitted, mostly truthful. “It is good to meet you, and I look forward to sharing a class with you. This is all very new to me, and it seems I’ll need all the help I can get.”

The metaphor of a dowry seemed fitting to Kellen. He wondered what sort of perks his Crest might be worth, though he supposed his status offered him plenty on its own. Lucky was a word for the situation, though Kellen felt a sense of anxiety that this woman now had a reason to keep an eye on him. He hadn’t spent any lengthy amount of time with family beyond his uncle for the past year, and the prospect of having to speak for his relatives was alarming. Nor was he particularly excited at the prospect of a new member of the family trying to find further inroads to his immediate family through him.

Those concerns paled in comparison to the greater issue—his Crest. His father had made him swear that he would tell no one of the Crest, and while the promise hadn’t been mentioned in the letter he had received, he was quite sure it still stood. He had no intention of divulging it, but the way her eyes sized him up left him certain that she would notice if he was behaving oddly. And if she was corresponding with any of the Gautiers, it wouldn’t take long for rumours to spread, be corroborated, and make their way to his father.

Despite these logical concerns, there was a simultaneous sense of relief as Lienna’s walls came down, even slightly. “Future family and all that.” That’s what she had said. He would be lying if he said that the prospect of a year locked up in his room was something he had been looking forward to, or that some part of him wasn’t relieved to see a new member of the family who had yet to form opinions of him in the context of his siblings. “Please don’t apologise.” He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s a long way here, and it wouldn’t be the truth if I said that this first day hasn’t been… a lot.” He looked around the courtyard for a moment, taking a deep breath.

“I know that I’m likely not what you had in mind when you pictured the sorts of people who would be at this school. Or my family. I’m not like my father, and definitely not like our House Leader, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.” He straightened his back, and for half a moment the youngest Fraldarius looked half the part of a lord, staring straight at Lienna. “But I’m still sure I can be helpful, so if you need something, please ask. I might not have a solution, but I’ll help you find one.”

Woah, she gave an inch and this kid really took a mile, didn’t he? Or, he went the extra mile, or whatever that inane expression was—Lienna had never been good at remembering flowery garbage like that. Regardless, she was taken aback by Kellen’s sudden dedication; they’d known each other for approximately five minutes and he was already spilling his guts and pledging his support like a squire from a fairy tale. It was sweet, in a way, but also naive, speaking to something of a sheltered upbringing where the consequences of giving too much had never been fully realized. She supposed that worked out well for her if she needed something from him, but she couldn’t help but hope the poor kid would smarten up sooner rather than later.

Still, she wasn’t one to deny such a tempting offer. “That’s sweet, thank you,” she’d give him that much, offering him a small smile. “I’ll be sure to take you up on that.”