Chapter 12: Floored Conversations

It was honestly a bit of a struggle to write this chapter, since I've been pretty low-energy recently. Hopefully that doesn't make itself known through the quality of this chapter. And if it does, sorry about that.

XXX

Fortunately, Sylvain's day hadn't gotten much worse after the incident with Bernadetta in the dining hall. At least nobody openly bothered to draw conclusions at the sight of him somehow making Bernie scream and run off. If it was because of pity or because people already thought that low of him, Sylvain wasn't sure. But he wasn't about to look a gift-horse in the mouth like that. After all, it made his trip over to Bernie's dorm room easier at the moment. Nobody was really trying to stop him in the hallways or anything.

Still, a part of Sylvain couldn't help but feel that it was weird that people were still averting their gazes from him for the most part as he walked down the hallways of the Officer's Academy. Sylvain was sure that something like that would always be odd to him. At least people usually bothered to look at him even briefly, whether it be for his looks or to shoot him some kind of look for whatever week's romantic faux-pas he was responsible for. To have that gone was… different.

"Sylvain!" called out a regal voice.

Well, so much for nobody stopping him.

Turning around, Sylvain saw Dimitri, accompanied as ever by Dedue. Although Dedue kept his trademark neutral expression on his face, Dimitri's mouth wall pulled down to form a somewhat-concerned frown.

"Word has gotten around of what transpired at Conand Tower…" the Faerghus prince began. "And although I was not able to do so earlier due to class obligations, I sincerely offer you my condolences." He placed his hand over his chest and lowered his head, making it fully clear that his sympathies were genuine.

Sylvian smiled a genuine grin. "Well, thanks for your concern, Dimitri. Really. But I can totally assure you that I'm fine."

Apparently, Dimitri didn't hear that last part, since he placed a hand gently on Sylvain's shoulder and looked him directly in the eyes as he said, "If you ever need to talk to me about this, know that my door is open. Find me any time, and I'll be willing to lend an ear." Then, casting a brief look over his shoulder, he then added, "And I'm sure Dedue will be willing to hear you as well."

Dedue gave a rather minute nod of his head, taking his charge's words seriously. "I will do what I can, if you need it."

"Well, how can I say no to an offer like that? Thanks, the both of you," said Sylvain.

"I wouldn't dream of offering any less for a friend," Dimitri replied.

Dedue gave another nod. "One does not need to bear such an action alone." From the look present in his eyes, the man of Duscur certainly meant it.

"I'll try to keep that in mind. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with a very important lady," smirked Sylvain. That wasn't exactly a lie, as Bernadetta was someone he did consider special to him. She was a great friend. And since it was close to the normal time when he'd slip into her dorm room quietly to join her in pouring over her manuscript, it was indeed a case of him spending time with a wonderful young woman. Just not in the way that people expected of him.

"Well, you do seem to be your normal self…" Dimitri muttered, a tone of resignation behind his words. It seemed like the way Sylvain intended that sentence to be heard hit home, just as intended. "Just… never mind. I'll be seeing you, Sylvain."

"Yeah, see you later too, your Highness," said Sylvain with a wave of the hand.

At that, Prince Dimitri and Dedue departed, presumably to get their own odds and ends done. After all, Dimitri was still a prince and Dedue was his retainer, and that meant that they still had important work to do together. Sylvain knew about the stacks of letters embossed with wax seals with royal crests on them that regularly made their way over to Dimitri's dormitory. To keep up that level of diplomatic and otherwise political correspondence must've been a large weekly task for the both of them. It was almost a miracle that Dimitri and Dedue had time to do much else, given the sizes of some of the mail stacks Sylvain had seen. But at least it was showing that Dimitri had good administration skills, if he was keeping up with it. That was a good quality to have in a future king.

Those idle thoughts in Sylvain's mind passed the time as he walked through the Officer's Academy grounds down over to the lower floor of the outdoor dormitories, where Bernadetta's dorm room was. As per usual, it was that time of the afternoon when classes were finally over, and people were content to hang out either inside their rooms or outside elsewhere. In other words, there weren't too many people around to see Sylvain approach Bernie's room, and if they did, they probably weren't going to say anything about it.

Now facing the door, Sylvain announced his presence like he normally did.

Knock knock knockknock knock.

"G-go away, please!" was the muffled response through the door.

"Hey, it's me, Sylvain," the Gautier heir announced calmly.

There was a brief pause before Bernadetta then said, "Still, please go away!"

That response made Sylvain arch an eyebrow. Now that wasn't something he was used to. Bernadetta was more than used their normal literature sessions by now. This, combined with Bernie's earlier outburst at lunch time, started to make Sylvain feel truly concerned.

"Why can't I come in?" Sylvain asked to the door. "C'mon, I won't bite!"

There was an even longer pause this time before a reply. "B-because you just can't, o-okay?!"

At those words, Sylvain's face formed a frown. Unfortunately, due to Bernadetta's nature, something like this was bound to happen at some point. Still, he just wished that he knew what it was even about. At least then he could take steps to calm down his friend. That was the difference between the moment Dimitri and himself had earlier compared to now. Previously, both parties had been open with the situation at hand. However, Sylvain couldn't work with just talking at a door and hoping things would just work out somehow. That wasn't how the world worked. He needed a more direct approach.

With that in mind, Sylvain sat himself down against Bernadetta's dormitory doors. "Well, I'll be waiting outside here for whenever you want to talk to me face to face."

"W-what?! You don't need to do that!" pleaded Bernie inside.

Sylvain rested his hands clasped behind his head. "Well sure, I don't need to do it, but I want to anyway."

"N-no way! But what will people think if… if-if-if-AAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Bernie screeched in a blind panic.

Sylvain only barely registered the sound of footsteps rushing to the door behind him when he suddenly felt the world fall out from beneath his back. In hindsight, leaning his back fully against the door would obviously result in him falling backwards the moment Bernadetta bothered to open it up. It wasn't his smartest move, but making decisions like that was pretty much the story of Sylvain's young-adult life in a nutshell.

Above Sylvain stood Bernadetta, who was looking down at him in turn. He was trying his best to keep his gaze firmly locked up towards Bernie's face, since the view he was getting from the floor lent itself to quite the view up her skirt. At least she was still wearing her shorts underneath her skirt as she usually did, otherwise he would absolutely deserve the flak his friends normally gave him for taking in the scenery.

"Well, hello there," greeted Sylvain with his normal wry smile.

Instead of a reply, Sylvian was grabbed by the shoulders of his uniform jacket and pulled across the threshold of the door by Bernie. Sylvain had to admit to himself that he was impressed that Bernadetta had the strength to pull along his dead weight. Perhaps all those archery lessons that she had been forced to sign up for were really paying off after all. Although her demeanor and choice of clothing hid it, Bernie was rather deceptively strong.

As soon as he could, Sylvain sat up and trained his gaze towards Bernie, who slammed the door shut behind her and was in the process of locking it. "See? Was it so hard to let me in?" Sylvain asked rhetorically.

Bernadetta spun around and slowly slumped down to the floor to sit across from him. "I'm sorry, Sylvain, I'm so sorry…"

"About what?" Sylvain couldn't help but ask.

Bernie took a deep breath before launching into her tirade. "I'm so sorry that I didn't want to see you, and I didn't welcome you back, and I was scared of seeing youandIdidn'twanttodisappointyouandIlostmylatestchapterandIdon'twantpeopletohateyouforbeingaroundmeandyoudeservebetterthanmeand—"

Sylvain scrambled directly up to the rambling Bernie. "Whoa whoa whoa! Calm down, Bernie!"

By that point, Bernadetta's self-loathing diatribe had descended into unintelligible muttering under her breath. Her hands were firmly planted at the sides of her head, with her fingers digging into and pulling at the messy purple locks she never bothered to fix up. With the sheer grip that she was placing on her hair, Sylvain was sure that she would start to rip out chunks of it. At the sight of that, he couldn't help but place his hands over hers.

"Hey, cut that out, Bernie! C'mon, stop!" he pleaded.

Fortunately for both Beradetta and Sylvain, Bernie did not resist Sylvain's attempt to pull her hands away from her head. However, she refused to look the Gautier heir directly in the face, instead averting her gaze towards the ground. And to make it worse, her words had just descended into low whimpers. It was somewhat disturbing to see her mood swing from scared ranting before acting like a scolded child, unable to look their parent in the eye. But above being disturbing, it was just plain depressing to see as well. It suddenly hit Sylvain that his friend's problems were deeper than he thought. There was a difference between being a neurotic shut-in and… this.

Upon seeing that, Sylvain's commanding voice softened. "Bernie… please just tell me clearly what's wrong. I can help, trust me. I just need to know, okay?"

Only a single, choked word was his response: "Everything."

Sylvain sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, that's a lot of stuff." Internally, he couldn't help but kick himself for stating the obvious. Regardless, he continued, "But we can start by getting you up off the floor."

At that, Sylvain stood up and offered Bernie a hand to help herself up with. However, she showed no response to the gesture. His empty hand hung in the air for a few moments, before it sank in that Bernadetta had shut down completely. With a sigh, Sylvain resigned himself to hooking his hands under Bernie's armpits and hoisting her up that way. It occurred to him how light the Varley girl was. Deceptively strong and deceptively light. It seemed like Bernadetta was built out of contradictions. Sylvain idly though that maybe that's why she was so miserable.

Sylvain did his best to guide the limp Bernie through the room and over to her bed to lay her down, although he was pretty sure that he accidentally made her feet knock over things on the ground, like empty inkwells and stacks of paper. That's what he assumed from the sounds that were made, anyway. He wasn't really going to bother to look down to confirm such a trivial observation. Instead, Sylvain positioned Bernadetta over the edge of her bed and gently let her down to sit. However, once she was seated on the mattress and he let go, Bernadetta unceremoniously flopped onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.

The future Margrave couldn't help but sadly bite his lip at the pathetic sight. Still, that didn't stop him from taking a seat on the bed as well, although he didn't lay back to join Bernadetta. Instead, he slumped forward and rested his arms on his legs. He needed to be relaxed for trying to get Bernie to open up. After all, if he was already being weirded out and deeply uncomfortable from everything that had happened to him for the past week and half, then it was for the best that he'd be as comfortable as possible for taking on another person's emotional burden in addition to his own.

"Would you mind starting from the beginning for me, Bernie?" Sylvain calmly asked.

"Hrmmm," Bernadetta grunted.

"…Well, I'll be sitting here in case you do want to talk," offered Sylvain. Sure, it was the same strategy he employed only a few moments ago, but it was at least effective the first time. It was time to see if usage number two would work as well.

"Promise…" Bernadetta muttered.

Sylvain perked up slightly. "What was that?"

"Promise you won't h-hate me?" Bernie managed to get out.

Sylvain forced out a friendly chuckle. "I don't think that's physically possible for me, Bernie. But sure, I promise that I won't hate you. Besides, there's nothing wrong with a conversation between friends."

XXX

And there you have it, we're right on the edge of some personal revelations between Sylvain and Bernadetta. I had a harder time writing this chapter than I thought, but I feel that the next one should be a breeze for me.

This has been The Draigg, and I'm signing off for now.