Author's Notes: Lightning turnaround on this one because I am catching up to my self-imposed release plan. WAAAAAY behind where I wanted to be by now.
Reviewer
Takedo- Glad you're liking it. This story is my first real foray into writing my own interpretation of a game's main story. I generally shy away from that kind of thing. But Three Houses leaves a plethora of room for imagination and I have some awesome plans in the works. Now I just need to muscle my way through it...
9th of the Month (It's My Party And I'll Cry If I Want To) -v- Annette -v-
The sun was shining just a little brighter today.
Her smile nearly took in her ears as she stumbled out of her room, a hastily collected pile of books in her arms. Three were from the library, two for her studies, and another one lent from Professor Essar to aid her personal growth. Scattered amongst and between those books were loose papers, a shawl, and probably some other things she accidentally scooped up in her frantic scramble. Her ink pots and fragile items were carefully nestled in a purse at her hip. There would not be a repeat of her disastrous entrance into the classroom on the first day of school.
There was another reason why she was so excited about today. This was not just any ordinary day at the monastery. It was a special day, a great day. One that she fully intended to celebrate with Mercedes and her classmates. As if it had known how excited she was for the day, the weather appeared to cooperate too. Not a cloud in the sky for miles, and the temperature had cooled just a little to give the air a nice relaxing breeze.
No, sir! It was a glorious day and she had full confidence that nothing could go-
Unable to see due to the pile of books obscuring her vision, her foot caught missed the step and plunged into the void. A startled shout tore itself free as she plummeted forwards. The jarring impact of her foot slamming into the soft earth several steps down turned her shout into a yelp, and she tumbled to the grass as her books went in all directions.
"Aw…"
Her inkpots clinked noisily in her purse, but the double layers of string and paper kept them secure. That was fine. But her ankle throbbed awfully and, more importantly, her books were scattered to the winds. Her smile faltered, struggling against the soul-crushing fact that this auspicious day had such a terrible beginning.
"That was quite a tumble."
Annette turned to the speaker, a weak smile on her lips. Dedue watched her from the stairs, a dirtied apron and pair of gloves telling her that he had already completed his gardening duties for the day.
"Uh, hey there, Dedue."
The Duscur-born student blinked slowly, then started forward to assist her. Annette hid her twinge of panic at the thought of dirt-stained gloves touching her precious books, and hastily scrambled forwards on her hands and knees to collect her things.
"Oh, don't worry about it Dedue, I'm used to this. Happens all the time."
His gloves flopped onto the grass. Moving with startling speed for one of his size, Dedue scooped up her books and carefully stacked them. The ease and reverence with which he moved left her in awe. Even a man as large and bulky as Dedue showed incredible grace. If only she could be that graceful. One day, she told herself. She just had to work hard for it.
"You should be more careful, Annette. You might have hurt yourself."
"Me?" She let out a little chuckle, putting up a brave show even as she felt her confidence crumble in the face of Dedue's stern gaze. "I… ah… I'm fine. See! Nothing wr- ow!"
Her ankle buckled, a lancing pain stabbing up her calf. It took her a moment to steady herself. Tears blurred her vision, summoned by the shock of pain, and she felt the large, strong hand on her arm before she saw it.
"Annette. Here, sit down. I will get Mercedes."
"I'm alright," she insisted, stubbornly blinking back the tears.
"You are hurt. Here, sit down and keep your ankle elevated. I will be back in a moment."
She did sit down, landing a little too forcefully on the stone step. The crinkling of shattering glass and a dull pressure against her bottom gave her a stabbing panic. A moment later she felt the wetness spreading, its cool touch confirming her worst fears.
This could not be happening. Not today. Any day of the year, and it had to be today.
Tears trickled down her cheeks. So, this was it. This was how the day was going to go. Not even bothering to pull her purse out from under her, to try and salvage whatever she could from the rapidly expanding pool of ink, she buried her face in her hands and cried softly.
It was not fair! It just was not fair.
Her only saving grace was that most of the others would be at the dining hall right about now. There was no one to see her humiliation except Dedue, and Mercedes.
"Annette."
Oh Goddess, she really did not need this right now.
Wiping her eyes as best she could, Annette turned to her left and picked out the blurry shape of her professor. Of course he was walking about in front of the student dormitories. The one day he decided to pass by the dorms instead of cutting through the dining hall. Now she looked like a fool in front of him too.
"Hello, Professor."
He did not say anything at first. Merely walking closer, the young professor grew larger and less blurry until she wiped her eyes enough to make out his face. He held out his hand; a clean white handkerchief.
"I'm sorry for my appearance," she murmured. Accepting the offering, she dabbed at her eyes, feeling puffy and sensitive from crying, and dared to blow her nose. He made no move to request the item back, so she held onto it for a moment, studying the handkerchief with wonder. It was simple, unembellished, and sturdy. Much like the professor. She huffed quietly, something near a chuckle bubbling in her throat. Comparing her professor to a handkerchief. Where even was her head right now?
"By the look of it I assume you took a fall. May I?"
Professor Eisner dropped to a knee and held out his hands. Waiting for her permission, he let them rest just out of touch of her swelling ankle. Annette stared at him for a moment. The tiny voice in her head insisted that she should know what he was doing. Asking for permission? For what?
"May I?"
Her ankle. Professor Eisner had demonstrated some talent for healing magic. He did not have nearly the aptitude for it that Mercedes did, but Annette's dear friend was a truly special case. For starters, her crest could be utilized to rebound healing magic back into her own body. But that was a secret. Mercedes' crest was quite rare, almost exclusively so, and few knew anything about the Crest of Lamine anymore. That bloodline had always been fairly small, and its crest appeared rarely. To be privileged to Mercedes' secret was something that Annette took intense pride in.
"Oh… um, yes, go ahead, Professor."
His touch was much less gentle, his hands rougher. Annette winced as his probing fingers examined the injury first, testing for the extent of the sprain. Then, with a quiet mutter and arcane gesture, he drew on his magical reserves and released the familiar white glow. All healing magic, no matter the caster, felt the same. Whether Mercedes' velvet touch or Professor Eisner's calloused grasp, magic was magic. It tickled, and she bit her lip to suppress the exhilarated giggle that threatened to spill from her lips.
"Be careful with it," he warned, rising to his feet. "Stay off it as much as possible for the rest of the day."
"Yes, professor."
She took his offered hand and rose carefully. The sticky wetness tingled on her backside. A furious heat blossomed in her cheeks and she anxiously shifted to keep the professor unaware of her plight.
"You should change clothes, too."
Annette froze, terror spilling through her body. He knew? How had he known? The rumors and whispers about Professor Eisner had started early and blossomed into crazed mythos, but there was no way he could possibly see behind her and know that she probably had a giant ink-stained splotch on her dress. Oh goddess, was he really some strange mystic with other sight?
"I… change?"
"You have grass stains on your knees."
"Oh! Right. Of course!" She giggled, a hysterical laughter forcing through her terror-pressed throat. Idiot! She was so worried about looking a total fool she had forgotten the obvious right in front of her. "I'll do that. Change. My clothes."
"While you are at it, I would recommend you detour to the washbins and hand off this skirt to be cleaned as soon as possible." His gaze settled on the stones behind her. Annette turned slowly, nervously, and discovered that the young professor had no need of mystical vision to see her humiliation. The wet imprint of her bottom, carefully preserved on the stone by her treacherous spilled ink, grinned cheekily up at her.
Her stomach shriveled in dismay.
She wanted to die.
"Here." He stepped closer and lifted his cloak, offering a shield for her to cower behind. His closeness struck her as unreal, and she spent a moment staring blankly at him, confused by his emotionless visage. "I am sure you would rather no one else see."
"Thank you, professor."
Shielded by his cloak and leaning on his arm for support, Annette hobbled back into her room. Though her ankle felt much better due to his magic, she knew better than to overexert a freshly healed wound. Healing magic was not perfect, after all. She left her books and purse on the stones outside. Goddess, she would have to scrub down those stones extra hard before the ink settled. The last thing she needed was the eternal print of her bottom mocking her every time she left or entered her room.
Professor Eisner entered the room with her, stopping at the door, and eased it mostly closed. He left it open by a hair, no doubt for her own security, and spent a moment inspecting her room before turning to face the door. That subtle gesture made her feel even safer than if he had shut the door. She hesitated as she considered that. What if he had shut the door? It would be… very different, to be alone with him in a locked room. She would rather have the door cracked like that, since no one could see her at that angle. Did he know that? Or was that just common courtesy?
"Do you require assistance?"
"Me? Oh, no, I will be fine." She fumbled with the snaps of her skirt. It was harder, for some reason, than usual. After a few seconds of struggle she stopped and examined her hands. Her fingers were shaking. A few gentle squeezes, clenching and unclenching, calmed her down. Returning to her work, she undid the fastener and let the skirt slither down to her feet.
It was at that moment Annette realized she was standing half-undressed with a man in her room. And not just a man, but her professor.
This morning really could not get any worse.
Praying to the goddess that he would not turn around, Annette eased her injured ankle out from the pile of skirt and set it down next to the bed. It felt sturdy enough, but she knew better than to test putting all her weight on it. Her best option was to sit down and free her other foot that way. Well, to change entirely while on the bed.
"Don't sit down," Professor Eisner barked suddenly, still facing the door.
She stiffened at the commanding tone. "What?"
"Your undergarments are most likely stained too."
He was right. She hadn't even thought of that. Professor Eisner just saved her from making her mess even worse. Twisting carefully, she tried to examine her backside. She did not have the flexibility, or the curves, to tell for certain. But her backside did feel a little chilled, perhaps even a touch damp when she tried to focus her awareness.
Great. Just great. Now what was she supposed to do? Ask him for help? She would rather be struck by lightning. She couldn't just ask the professor to help her undress. That was… inconceivable. But what was she to do?
Salvation came in the muffled approach of another. A soft but insistent fist rapped against the door, pushing it inwards ever so slightly with each tap. The professor stepped backwards, retreating into her room as Mercedes practically forced her way inside.
"Annie- Professor Eisner? What are you doing in Annie's…"
Her sweet elder friend's words trailed into stunned silence. Annette smiled weakly at her, entirely aware of what the situation looked like, and frantically trying to come up with the words to explain. Here she was, standing half-undressed with a man in her room.
"Annette had a fall and hurt her ankle." Professor Eisner filled the uncomfortable silence with his strong and matter-of-fact tone. "I healed the injury, but she required assistance entering her room."
"Oh?" Those sweet pale blue eyes flicked down to Annette's ankle. Though she could appear lazy and apathetic, Mercedes had a ferocious streak in her when her protective instincts were raised. Some had likened the soft-speaking young woman to an older sister personality. Annette thought she was much more like a mother than anything. And like any mother, she could bare terrible fangs. For a terrifying moment Annette feared she might bare those fangs at the professor and turn her already ruined morning into an even worse fiasco.
"Ink spilled on her skirt. She was attempting to change out of it."
"I understand. Well, I am here now, so you may leave, Professor."
The two locked eyes. Mercedes' words were pleasant enough, but there was a definite hint of command in them. Annette could only imagine what their professor thought, with a student being so firm and aggressive at issuing orders. That Mercedes did it with that sweet, innocent smile could only make it more aggravating.
"You two have permission to arrive late to class. I will inform Professor Essar of the delay," he announced. "I suggested that Annette bring her clothes to the wash bins on the way. Better to have th-"
"Yes, yes. We will see you in class." Her best friend clutched the professor's arm and rushed him out of the room. Half-guiding, half-shoving, she escorted him unceremoniously through the door and slammed it shut behind him. Her skillful fingers danced down to the lock and turned it, then she took a step back and brushed her hands as if examining a long day's work.
"Mercedes, you can't just kic-"
"Now then, Annie." Mercedes turned to her, that brilliant glowing smile fresh on her face. It was disarming, so powerful that Annette's complaint about her friend's brash behavior and felt her own giddy smile pull at her cheeks. "Let's get you cleaned up."
-v- Dimitri -v-
Mercedes was missing.
He was used to the pair of bubbly girls being late. Annette, for all her hyperactivity, had a reputation for overextending herself and becoming too caught up in the many tasks in front of her. Mercedes was… well, Mercedes. In the short time he had known the pair, they had struck him as earnest, reliable, but horribly consistent latecomers. More often than not they were last to the classroom, arriving breathless as they rushed into their seats, racing to beat the monastery bell.
Today though, the bell had come and gone. Professor Eisner never took roll call; the class was far too small for that. Just as it was impossible for him to have missed her absence, it was also impossible to miss the lack of surprise or hesitation as Professor Eisner dove right into his morning briefing with clockwork proficiency. Her absence was glossed over, ignored. Which likely meant he had known in advance that it would occur.
And if Mercedes was late, that likely meant Annette was too. With her being assigned to the Black Eagles class this month it would be a simple matter to walk over and check. He had thought Professor Essar was the type to send a student over to inquire to her whereabouts, had she been late. But there was no visitor from the class next door. Nor was there any indication that either of the two had arrived.
That made him curious.
After the two weeks with Professor Eisner, he had learned that the professor did not engage in idle banter. Like Dimitri, he preferred pointed, intentional conversation. Wasting time did not take with him. It was likely that asking the professor for the whereabouts of their classmates would be considered time-wasting.
Still, as the house leader his responsibilities dictated, he should be aware of the shortcomings of his classmates and help correct them. To have two classmates miss class so blatantly only made them look bad, especially when one was temporarily assigned to another house. Without a proper explanation, he found himself in the uncomfortable dilemma of distraction. Once he had the opportunity, he would have to track the girls down, discover the reason for their delay, then apologize properly to Professor Eisner.
This distraction would ruin his morning. He loathed his inability to shake it off.
Their wayward classmate finally made her appearance just as the next bell tolled.
Striding into class without a hint of shame, the cheery-eyed Mercedes went straight to her desk and took her seat without a word. She bobbed her head once to the professor, then set to organizing her place. The professor hardly acknowledged her arrival, save to scoop up a small stack of papers from his desk and hand them over. Lecture notes, most likely.
The smoothness of the transaction drew the whole class's attention. Nobody said a word, of course. Not while Professor Eisner finished up his lecture. Once it ended, however, and they had the short break to change over to their hour of individual studies, Dimitri was the first one out of his desk. He crossed the aisle in a hurry, eager to get an answer from the irrepressibly young woman before the others could crowd her.
"Mercedes, you were late."
"Yes, I apologize, Dimitri." Her charming smile set him back. It was hard to get used to such a brilliant glow. To his shame, he found she could shut him down with just a glimpse of that smile. She did that to everyone, though. It was not just himself who was powerless in the face of her innocence and shine. "Professor Eisner gave me permission beforehand. I was assisting a friend with a rather unfortunate event."
"How is Annette's ankle?"
Dedue stood at his side. Evidently he had more information on what had transpired. But Dimitri had not asked him; he had no reason to think to ask.
"Her ankle is much better. Thank you so much for fetching me, Dedue. Professor Eisner actually found her first, and performed a top-notch healing spell on it."
"Annette was hurt?"
"Just a minor fall," Dedue answered. "Nothing serious. Her pride was wounded worse than her body."
"It is a rather unfortunate day for that," Mercedes agreed. "I stayed late to assist her with cleaning up."
"I see."
His concern lessened immensely with that explanation. Knowing that the professor had indeed been aware of the situation beforehand also negated his concern for apology. He still might apologize anyways. Excused or not, it was still unseemly to have students be tardy at such a prestigious academy.
"What makes today so unfortunate?" Dedue spent a moment eyeing the empty seat where Annette usually sat.
"Why, it is her birthday, of course." Mercedes' smile widened just a touch more. "She turns seventeen today."
"Her birthday?" He winced inside. That was the kind of thing he should be on top of. His classmates were not his servants by any means, but they were future subjects, and likely ones he would have contact with for some time going forwards. Establishing the right bonds now would not only serve him well for future duties, but it was the right thing to do, as the house leader. And he had already missed his first opportunity. "Well then, we will have to do something for her."
"Oh, you don't need to worry. Annette is not a fan of parties. I mean, she would certainly appreciate well-wishes, but she and I will be celebrating tonight in the village. There is a lovely bakery there, and the family is preparing a marvelous cake for her."
"Oh, I see."
He stood by her desk for a few seconds longer, uncertain what to say. The conversation had taken a startlingly fast turn, and he was honestly out of his element here. Discussing birthdays and cakes and celebrations. The kinds of things he had not paid attention to for years. Dedue came to his rescue, as his loyal friend often did.
"If we may assist in any way, Mercedes, do not hesitate to let us know."
"Thank you Dedue, Dimitri. You really are good friends."
She graced them with one last smile before turning to the papers the professor gave her and resuming her work copying his notes. Dimitri retreated to his seat, lost in thought. Annette's birthday. He would have to think of something before the day was over. Even if it was a small gift, or simply a gesture, that was the right thing to do. He should discuss it with Ingrid. She would know what sort of things Annette would like.
He could imagine Sylvain's thoughts on the matter. Whatever you do, do not give her a knife.
-v- Dorothea -v-
"It's about time you showed up." She nudged the Blue Lions student with her elbow. "I thought you had abandoned me."
"Oh, I would never do that. I am so, so, so sorry for being late."
Annette had a pained expression, but it did not reach her eyes, and that gave Dorothea relief. To be honest, she had worried about Annette's late arrival, if only slightly. The girl's accident-prone nature was already something of a legend in the ranks of students. A legend that followed her from her days in the School of Sorcery. While she had not expected any serious hurt, the possibility that Annette had indeed hurt herself had gnawed at Dorothea until the girl trudged into class, an apologetic grimace marring her cute face.
"It's fine, dear. I am simply happy you are here."
She snuck a glance at her house leader. Edelgard had a pensive expression on her face and was studying the late arrival as if Annette were a tactical battle plan. Since Annette did not belong to her house, she could scold Annette for the late arrival, but any sort of punitive action would technically have to go through Dimitri. Hanneman had greeted Annette on her arrival and did not draw any attention to Annette's tardiness, which indicated it was a pre-approved lateness. If Edelgard overstepped she could find herself embarrassed.
Until the next bell rang, the house leader would have to content herself with merely observing. Hanneman ran a strict class. Far stricter than Dorothea would have expected, although she understood the intent was to give Hanneman more time to his own study. To that end, he encouraged them to be self-sufficient in their study time, but insisted the classroom maintain a respectable level of quiet.
Edelgard caught her eye. The white-haired leader quirked an eyebrow ever so slightly, asking in silence for the reason of Annette's late arrival. The opportunity was too good to pass up. Dorothea winked at her. Irritation tightened Edelgard's brows, but she took the hint and turned her attention back to her desk.
"Hey, Dorothea, can I tell you a secret?"
"Hmm?"
"Guess what day it is." Annette's eyes fairly sparkled with glee.
"The ninth."
"Uh-huh."
Dorothea considered the implication of Annette's answer. There was nothing spectacular about the ninth day of the Harpstring Moon. At least, not in the Empire. She was only somewhat familiar with Faerghus celebrations. Her troupe had performed in the Fhirdiad a time or two and that had introduced her to some of the local specialties and events, but not enough for her to know their unique holidays off-hand.
"It is…" her thoughts stalled, unable to grasp at an answer. The earnest shine in Annette's eyes hinted that the girl wanted to be the one to spill the beans, as it was. That was fine. She adored Annette's enthusiasm.
"It's… my… birthday!"
The impish giggle cracked Dorothea's defenses. She grinned at her desk-mate, and immediately switched tracks in her mind. Annette's birthday. Birthdays meant celebration. Celebration meant great food and alcohol and cherished time with friends.
"Well, happy birthday, Annette."
"Thanks!" The younger student's gaze darted about furiously for a moment. "Mercie and I are going to the town tonight. She thinks it will be just us. But I wanted to surprise her and invite some of my friends along."
"Shouldn't you be the one receiving the surprise?" Dorothea could not help but be amazed. The girl sounded so sure of herself, so confident, that it almost sounded right that she should be the one giving out the surprise on her birthday.
"I'd prefer to have a quiet birthday, to be honest, but it just seems like such a good opportunity. We've made so many new friends here, and I think a nice little party would go a long way this early in the school year."
"Indeed. One can never underestimate the power of a party. You and your friends will have a splendid time."
Annette stared at her, a disappointed grimace creeping across her lips. "Are… you not coming?"
"Me?"
She blinked back her surprise. She and Annette were friendly, Dorothea would not hesitate at all to say they had become friends already, but she had not expected their friendship so strong that she would receive an invitation like that.
"Of course! I would love it if you could come. I think it will be mostly my own classmates, but I wanted to invite a few others as well. Please, Dorothea? It would be amazing if you could come. We are going to eat cake, and-"
Hanneman let out a loud harrumph, his sharp eyes glaring at them from across the room. They both winced, ducking their heads instinctively and letting off the conversation for a moment to focus on their work.
"Hmm… cake does sound lovely." She shot Annette a sidelong glance. "I guess I can put up with you for some cake."
Annette snickered.
-v- Felix -v-
"This is a waste of time."
The two students had gathered in the area that served as Garreg Mach's market. It was a small place, with far less offerings then what could be found in the village just a short walk down the mountainside. Few of the shops were permanent, those being a small open-air smithy and a Church-affiliated vendor who carried essential supplies for everyday life. The rest of the stalls had temporary leases, changed out on a weekly or monthly basis as the merchant contracts expired. It was… expensive, no doubt, to hold a temporary license to sell inside the monastery walls. But with scholars, warriors, students and laborers housed in its walls, the monastery provided an impressive range of customers.
With the ease of access in their favor, the merchants sought to recoup the cost of the license by upcharging their wares. He grimaced in disgust at the sight of vulnerary components listed at double their price compared to the market in the village. The herbalist there sold such ingredients for practically nothing. Granted, it was an hour's walk down to her home, then another hour back, but he considered the price worth the time.
"Don't be like that Felix." Sylvain chuckled quietly, his attention focused on a few overpriced baubles hanging from one of the stall's tent poles. "We have to get her something."
"Why?"
"Because it's her birthday."
"I mean why is it our concern? I would not expect you all to buy me anything on my birthday."
"You are such a grouch. Goddess forbid we have a little fun at the academy." The fool took one of the glittering trinkets and held it up for the merchant to inspect. He bartered for a few seconds, showing an admirably restraint at the merchant's exorbitant prices. After a few attempts to lower the price to something near reasonable, he gave up with a sigh and put the trinket back.
"Dimitri wants us to surprise her. It will be good for the class. You know, have a party, kick back and relax. Enjoy our new friends."
"Well if the boar wants it, it must be a brilliant idea," Felix muttered darkly, too soft for Sylvain to hear. Speaking louder, he complained again. "It is not as if we are surprising her. She is the one who asked us to come to the party."
"Yes, but she won't be expecting us to bring presents. Damn, there isn't a thing here that looks right for her. We'll have to go down to the village."
"No."
"Well, do you see something here?"
"I meant, no I do not have to go down to the village. I let you waste enough of my time searching about in this miserable field of thieves. I have no desire to waste even more of my time looking for-"
"Looking for what?"
Felix stiffened, catching the words that were about to come out and stuffing them back down his throat. Sylvain had less grace to his surprise. He nearly leapt out of his skin at the sudden peppy voice, and hastily spun about while jamming his hands behind his back, hiding the necklace he had been ogling.
Their intended target and her inseparable companion watched them with mischievous smiles. Empty shopping bags hung from their arms; they must be on their way down to the village. How incredibly unfortunate. Dodging the pair while shopping for something would be truly impossible. Felix felt his seething irritation grow with each passing moment. This was an utter waste of time.
"Looking… for," Sylvain gave a nervous laugh, and shot Felix a desperate glance.
"Professor Eisner tasked us to find an extra source for whetstones and blade oil," Felix answered, taking over for the panicking Sylvain. It was not entirely a lie. The professor had mentioned that they would be increasing their combat training in the next week, and he had agreed to conduct private tutoring sessions with the students. For those he deemed skilled enough to use real weapons, he insisted on also having them perform their own weapon maintenance. And since every student should have a personal whetstone, that meant he needed quite a few.
The girls bought his excuse. A quick glance between the pair revealed their doubts, but Annette shrugged off Sylvain's odd behavior and pointed over towards the blacksmith's tent. "You're looking in the wrong place. Tauro's got some excellent whetstones for sale."
"Perhaps, but not in bulk." He continued with his half-lie, determined to see it through until the girls left. "Professor Eisner is looking to establish a long-term supplier."
"Oh. Well then, I wish you boys luck. Mercie and I are going down to the village to do some shopping. Give us a shout if you happen to go down there."
Leaving them with a conspiratorial wink, the plucky girl wrapped her arm in Mercedes' and gently pulled her along. They offered parting waves, but the sheer amount of conspiracy between those involved kept them all silent. Felix waited until they were entirely gone from sight before letting out a sigh and turning to Sylvain, who was eyeing him with surprise.
"What?"
"Nothing. I just never knew you could lie like that."
It was hard to determine if that was a chastisement or a compliment. He did not particularly care to find out. Offering his own nod of dismissal, Felix cast one last look over the market.
"I'm done. Have fun shopping for trinkets."
"Come on, Felix. You can't be the only one to not get Annette something."
He spotted a flash of pink hair in the distance, near the monastery gate. There were two very exclusive spots there, where merchants could set up shop on a daily basis. That was a first-come, first-serve basis though, so it was unreliable to go searching for anything there unless it was on your way. But that pink-haired merchant was rather famous in the Kingdom. At least, among noble circles. The wandering trafficker of exotic goods who always had exactly what was needed, though at cringeworthy prices. His father had praised her for her business sense, if moaned about her shrewdness.
Anna. That was her name.
"I am sure I can find something," Felix grumbled. Grudgingly, he changed direction towards the gate. It was going to be a lean month.
-v- Ingrid -v-
"And you are sure you asked everyone?"
"Relax, Ingrid. I know how to throw a party." Sylvain grinned, his cheeky smile half-hidden by the growing shadows of the terrace. They had arrived early to the bakery and chosen to take a table at the tavern across the square. The open air seating was relaxing, quiet compared to the loud interior. It also afforded a grand view of the setting sun. The delightful red glow painted across the horizon struck her as enchanting. She could watch it every day for the rest of her life and never grow tired of it.
"What about Bernadetta? Dimitri did put you in charge of ensuring everyone committed."
"Bernadetta… well," his smile weakened slightly, and he glanced away. A sure enough sign of guilt where Sylvain was concerned. "She said she would think about it."
"She said she would think about it? Sylvain, you know that means she isn't coming."
"I didn't want to force her!" He glanced about, realizing he had spoken a little too loudly. Lowering his voice, he leaned across the table. "You've seen how skittish she is. Sneaking into the classroom, always sprinting out when we are dismissed. I even told her Dorothea would be there. I just think she is afraid."
"Afraid of what? We aren't monsters, Sylvain."
"Obviously, we aren't. But Bernadetta's… well, you know. It isn't just our class that she's like that around. Ferdinand told me she was quite the timid mouse in their own classroom. Barely speaks unless required to, always hiding away in her room."
"Yes, I heard that as well." Ingrid huffed. "But she isn't going to make any friends locked up in her room like that. This is her first time living away from her parents. I know how hard that can be. But we really should make an effort to welcome her in. I thought that Annette's party would be a great time for that."
"Maybe it's just too early for her. We have a whole year, after all. It's been, what, a couple weeks?"
Her silence was answer enough. A hint of melancholy clouded her thoughts. As much as she wished for Bernadetta to become more open and outgoing, perhaps throwing her at a party would be akin to cliff diving versus walking down the stairs. Little steps would be required.
"Come on, Ingrid. Don't get pouty right before the big shindig. Here, I promise we will all take steps towards welcoming Bernadetta into the classroom. Now put away that frown and try smiling for once."
She arched an eyebrow and glared at him. "For once?"
"Uh… I mean, it pains me to see your delicate beauty besmeared by such an inelegant frown."
"Ugh."
"Heh." His grin brought out her own, and she could only shake her head in wonder. For better or worse, Sylvain had a thousand and one lines in his head. Some were far worse than others. She was certain he saved the worst for her, just to make her smile. It was infuriatingly effective.
"And… there we are." Sylvain nodded towards the bakery. The slight and unassuming figure or Ashe waved at them, indicating that the lookout, Dedue, had spotted Annette and Mercedes coming down the road. "What did you get Annette?"
"What I bought for Annette is none of your business," Ingrid said, scowling lightly. "Here, take that tankard. Pretend you are drinking or something."
"Eesh, if you want us to look like we are just hanging out, you need to loosen up a little. You look like you're about to step in the ring with Professor Eisner."
They busied themselves with their empty tankards, eyeing the road and waiting for their classmates to appear. Sure enough, the cheery pair of Annette and Mercedes came traipsing into view. The girls had changed out of their school uniforms and dressed up for the night. It made sense, and Ingrid felt a slight pang of jealousy at how pretty they looked. Like proper young ladies off to enjoy a quiet night together. Ingrid did not envy their beauty, rather the relaxed ease of their friendship. She did not have anyone she was quite so close to. In her position, she doubted she would ever find someone like that.
Annette and Mercedes disappeared inside the bakery. Moments later, Ashe stuck his head out the window on the second floor.
"That's the signal," Sylvain muttered. He winked at Ingrid and stood. "After you, m'lady."
Ingrid scoffed, but stood as well and waved secretively at the others lying in wait. Emerging from their various hiding places, Dimitri and the others crept into the road and grouped up at the entrance. An outsider might have thought them thugs planning a robbery, were they not all dressed in nice clothes and unmasked.
"Operation Annette's-Birthday-Surprise-Party-That Isn't-Actually-A-Surprise is a go," Sylvain chuckled.
Ingrid sighed wearily and braced herself for what would either be a wonderful night or a colossal disaster.
-v- Mercedes -v-
The small room at the front of the baker's shop was awash with noise and laughter. The kind family had laid out a table in the entrance and brought out plenty of chairs. Even so, some had to stand around or lean against the countertop as they gorged on delicious cake and sipped on tasty beverages. It felt crowded, but pleasantly so. Surrounded by her friends, Mercedes could only sigh in amazement at Annette's kind heart and conniving mischief.
Leave it to Annette to plan a surprise party for her friend on her own birthday.
"Ooh! Mercshie, you have to try thish. It'sh call rum!"
A sloshing mug was thrust in front of her. Annette, her cute face flushed red from the various alcoholic beverages she had tried, held it unsteadily, swaying back and forth on her seat. Her lips were discolored from the blue and yellow food dye of the cake's frosting.
"O… okay." She took the drink and sipped it experimentally. A heady rush of honey and fruit poured over her tongue like a flood of tastiness and all things delicious had been unleashed. "Sweet!"
"Itsh great," Annette cackled. "Makesh my inshides feel like a dozshen butterlfiesh are fwip fwip fwipping about."
"Easy there, birthday girl." Sylvain reached over and grabbed Annette's shoulder before she tipped off her seat. Settling the drunk girl back into her chair, he plucked another cup from her hand and set it out of reach on the table. "Slow down a little. We've got all night."
"Your facshe hash got all… belch… night."
The very rude and unladylike gesture went unnoticed by the others. After the initial surprise and reveal, their classmates had offered congratulations to Annette and shared the cake, but gradually broke off into their own circles to mingle. It would have been oppressive to crowd around Annette the whole night. Mercedes was satisfied with seeing how much her precious friend was enjoying the night, and how the others all seemed to be enjoying it too. Even the dour Felix stood with Ingrid near the door, his body nearly relaxed as he chatted with the serious-faced young woman.
A few from outside their class had come too. Dorothea, Annette's Black Eagles seatmate and resident starlet, sat at the far end of the table sharing a quiet conversation with Ashe and Sylvain. Linhardt had appeared for a short while, but retreated upstairs to a spare room for a nap. Even Caspar had come. The short but fiery boy was engaged in an enthusiastic discussion with Dimitri and Dedue. Judging by the hand gestures and motions, they were recalling some battle of Dimitri's past.
It really felt like they were all close friends. Even though the attention had shifted away from Annette, she knew that was exactly how it should be. Annette clearly wanted this to be more about strengthening their own bonds than celebrating her birthday. Seeing everyone enjoying themselves filled them both with a happiness that was hard to describe.
There was just one person missing.
"Mercshie? Whassh wrong?" Annette stared at her through bleary, unfocused eyes.
"Wrong? I am sorry, I didn't mean to look sad. I was just thinking that it would be nice if Professor Eisner was here."
"The Professor?" Dorothea interjected, sliding into the conversation as if she had always been there. The singer had a sharp ear, and not just because of her intensive training in the opera. "If he was here, we'd have to hide the alcohol. Ashe is just a few months too young for it."
"But I'm not drinking," Ashe pointed out, his innocence so cute and charming.
"Can't risk it where the Teach is concerned." Sylvain nodded, agreeing with Dorothea. "If word gets out we had someone underage at a party and alcohol was flowing without adult supervision, that'd be bad for everyone."
"But… you are all adults." Ashe grimaced as he tried to wrap his head around Sylvain's logic.
Mercedes giggled. "Yes, but we are your classmates. I don't think they would consider us impartial in the matter."
"No, we wouldn't."
Every person in the room froze. The hairs on her arms prickled, and she tensed so quickly that she nearly bit her tongue. From her viewpoint with her back to the door, she watched as Dimitri went stiff as a board, the young prince finding himself caught like a deer in the poacher's eye.
Professor Eisner stood in the doorway.
Had he snuck up on them? It didn't seem likely. Felix and Ingrid were right there, and they seemed just as startled as the others. But she had no reason to think the professor would sneak about like that. It would be… clandestine. She could not imagine the taciturn professor immersing himself in the arts of stealth and approach. He was certainly quiet and swift, but the thought of Professor Eisner garbed in thief's attire seemed ludicrous.
"Pr… professhor?" The only one who seemed immune to the shock of his arrival was Annette. "Hey! It'sh'a professhor!"
Annette staggered to her feet, knocking her chair over as she clutched at the table for balance. She really had drunk too much. Oblivious to the nervous tension in the room, and completely unbothered by the unease showing on all their faces, Annette swiped the mug that Sylvain had put out of reach and stumbled up to the Professor.
"It'sh mah birfshday, professhor. Hav'a drink?"
Professor Eisner stared down at the red-faced girl. Even Mercedes felt the chill running along her spine. They were going to be in so much trouble. So much trouble. Oh, if only Annette had shown a little more restraint.
"I only drink alcohol after dark," the Professor said. He plucked the mug from Annette's confused grasp and held it at arm's length. "And since you are only drinking ciders, I'll pass."
"Cshider? Professhor, that'sh r-"
"Red apple cider," Dorothea called out, nearly shouting as she frantically spoke over the reeling Annette. Obviously, it was not. The rum tasted and smelled nothing like apple-anything. To the sober students in the room, however, they understood what the Professor meant.
He was intentionally refused to acknowledge the alcohol in the room. By not accepting the drink, refusing to even sniff it, he was implying that he would overlook the situation. But if a student blurted out that there was in fact alcohol, he would likely be forced to take action or risk his position at the Academy.
He truly was a kind man. Mercedes felt the stiffness drain from her shoulders. She hurriedly stood up and took Annette from behind, clutching her arms and guiding her back to her chair. "There, there, Annette. You are quite tired and all that sugar has you wound up. Just sit here for a moment and rest, okay?"
"But Merschie… he thinks that the r-"
"Red apple cider," Dorothea called out again.
"But it'sh not red ap'ble cshider!"
"Of course it is, silly Annie." Mercedes shot an apologetic look to the Professor, who remained in the doorway. The others were still watching him nervously. Not a single glass or mug was anywhere near their lips. Though the tension had faded noticeably, it had not gone away entirely. Dimitri looked conflicted, caught somewhere between his youthful desire to enjoy time with his classmates and his responsibility as House Leader.
Don't stop on my account," Professor Eisner announced. "You have a commendable mixer going on. Impressive initiative, Dimitri."
The token gesture soothed Dimitri's anxiety. His posture visibly relaxed, and Dimitri offered an embarrassed nod of acknowledgement.
"Well then." Sylvain was the first to pull himself out of his stupor. He snatched up a clean plate and cut a slice from the much-reduced cake that they demolished at the outset of the party. Bringing over the slice of cake, he offered it to Professor Eisner with his trademark roguish smile. "Since you are here, can I offer you a slice of Annette's birthday cake?"
Professor Eisner gave the slightest shake of his head. "I just came to give Annette a present."
He stepped past Sylvain and produced a small paper-wrapped package. Mercedes accepted it and completed the handoff to Annette, who took the package with wide-eyed wonder. His gift had been delivered. That truly was all he had stopped by for.
"Ooo. Itsh shmall!" The birthday girl fumbled with the strings for a minute before unravelling the paper to reveal a gleaming steel inkpot with a functioning latch. The letter 'A' was beautifully etched onto the front, and the engraving had been filled with gold. She gaped at it for a moment, stunned by the gift. Then she cackled loudly and lifted it into the air. "The profeshsor got me'n inkpot! Heehee, it'sh caushe I broked mine today, ishn't it? I broked it by ssshitting on it an'it got all over my butt!"
"Annie!" Mercedes gasped in horror at Annette's shameless announcement.
"I fell'n my butt and broked my inkpotsh. 'n it got alllllll over my butt! 'n the professhor brought me back int'a mah room and I wassh gonna sitsh down but he wassh all'ike 'Don'tsh sshit on yehr bed!'"
Half the audience was chuckling and laughing, amused by Annette's drunken rampage of a story. The others were hiding their faces in embarrassment or looking elsewhere to avoid making any sort of eye contact. Mercedes desperately tried to shush her best friend, but there was no stopping Annette from her epic tale.
"An' afta that Merschie came shtorming inta da room. 'n I wassh shtanding there int'a mah underwear 'n the professhor was not peekin' caushe he'sh a gentlenam… no, a gemtlenn… a jellyman… a greatsh guy! 'n Merschie kicked him outta da' room. 'n den sshe 'ad me shtr-"
"Oh my, that's such an interesting story, Annette!" Dorothea came to Mercedes' aid. Utilizing her forceful personality to its maximum potential, she talked over Annette as the girl got into the point in her story that would be irrecoverable and motioned for Mercedes to drag Annette to her feet. The pair manhandled Annette, moving her gently but with enough speed that Annette's sense of balance wavered and she fell silent. "I am so terribly sorry about this, professor."
"Yes, Annette is quite tired after a long day."
"She does seem to become very talkative when she is tired," Professor Eisner agreed. "You should take care to avoid letting her get this tired in the future."
Mercedes winced inwardly. His tone lacked any judgement. But it was her duty as Annette's best friend to take care of her, and she had let the party get away from her. Nothing had come of it, and she knew nothing would have come of it, except Annette's wounded pride if she ever learned what she had just belted out to the class.
"I'll help you take her back to her room." Sylvain gallantly stepped in to aid them. Dorothea offered a sweet smile, and they carefully swapped places. "Have a great night, professor."
They escaped the stifling confines of the room and began the trek back to the student dormitories. Mercedes enjoyed the cool air as they half-dragged, half-carried Annette up the mountain. No one said much. Annette was dozing peacefully in their arms.
"So…" Sylvain did not make eye contact as he broke the silence. "That was a great party."
"I was glad to see everyone enjoying themselves."
"I think everyone picked good presents for her too. We were a little nervous about that. Dimitri wanted us all to get her something, but we had no guidance on what was appropriate."
"You all chose lovely gifts for her," Mercedes assured him. "I do hope they remember to bring them to the monastery. Should I go back and get them?"
"Ingrid's in charge of that. If anyone will remember to bring them, it will be her." Sylvain grinned, likely imagining Ingrid ordering about the boys like a drill instructor. Mercedes' heart warmed at his smile. The smile that he reserved for Ingrid was clearly different than the one he offered to everyone else. "That moron Felix didn't get her anything, though. We were out looking for presents when you and Annette nearly caught us."
"Is that what you were doing?" Mercedes played dumb. The pair of them had acted so suspiciously that she could not help but have thought they were looking for presents for Annette.
"Bah, I was wondering how easy it was to fool you. You saw right through us, didn't you?"
She responded with a smile.
"Did you see Dimitri's face when Teach walked in?"
Mercedes nodded. A grin spread across her lips like wildfire at the thought. "He looked like his soul was about to leave his body."
"Oh, he's going to give us hell for that," Sylvain chuckled. "It's a good thing Teach is so chill. I didn't have the slightest clue that he would be swinging by, or that he even knew what we had planned. Someone must have told him."
"Do you have a likely suspect?"
Sylvain pointedly glanced at the sleeping Annette. After a second of contemplation, Mercedes laughed softly and nodded.
"That would make sense."
They reached the monastery gates, whereupon they were waved through with only a cursory check of their faces. A knowing grin on the gatehouse guard's face told them that he knew exactly what they were coming back from, but he also paid them no mind. She guessed Professor Eisner had requested the guard give them a pass tonight.
After all, the three of them were of age now.
Thankfully, the portion of the dormitories that she and Annette lived in were nearest to the entrance. Sylvain ended up taking over partway through; he hoisted her up in a bridal carry and let Mercedes lead the way. Though she slept through most of it, Annette did wake as they passed the pond. Announcing her return to consciousness with a loud yawn that ended with an impressive belch, Annette blinked herself back into awareness and gazed at Sylvain's face.
"What'sh Sshyvlain ssho closshe for? Hey! Mercshie! I'm floatin'!"
Her arms and legs waved about, nearly upending her from Sylvain's grasp. The valiant Gautier boy struggled with her squirming body, nearly dropping her before they reached Annette's door.
"What's this?"
A package lay against Annette's door. Mercedes bent down and scooped it up, noting immediately by feel that it was a thin book under the paper wrapping.
"And… here you go." Sylvain let the drunk girl down, carefully setting her feet before stepping back and watching as Annette leaned unsteadily against the wall of the dormitory. "Looks like you have an admirer, Annette."
"I hashve lot'sha admi… admmi… them!"
Tumbling forward, Annette crashed into Mercedes. Mercedes caught her friend, easily standing her ground against Annette's smaller weight. Crafty little fingers snatched the package from her hands, though, and Annette leaned back into her door and tore the paper away.
"A song book?"
The thin hard backed book in Annette's hands, Mittlefrank Opera Company Sheet Music, 1174, had a rich green cover and silver-inked letters. Her eyes widened like saucers, and she gaped at it for a moment before hugging it to her chest and giggling loudly.
"It'sho preeeeeettttty! Look't the book, Mercshie!"
"Yes, it is quite lovely." Mercedes giggled along with Annette. Taking her by the arm, she gently guided her into her room. "Now then, you can look through it tomorrow. Thank you for escorting us, Sylvain! Have a good night."
Sylvan shrugged modestly and turned to leave. As he turned though, Mercedes thought she heard a faint mutter under the dashing boy's breath.
"Shopping for trinkets, my ass!"