AUTHOR'S NOTES: As the holiday season and NaNoWriMo approach, I'll be updating this story every two weeks instead of every week, ideally until January but I'll see how things go. That said, enter the man, the myth, the legend himself, Ferdinand von Aegir... and Dorothea. Bot of them give Petra much to think abuot given what she knows of Duke Aegir, and what Dorothea knows of Petra's reputation.
Happy Reading!
PART TWO: WHITE CLOUDS
CHAPTER 010: COMMONERS AND NOBLES
=Garreg Mach Monastery, 10th of Great Tree Moon, Imperial Year 1180…=
The early half of the morning had been physically stimulating while the middle part had been mentally stimulating. Claude's tactics in his new board game were interesting, and the game itself, while it still had a few kinks to iron out, was very entertaining in Petra's eyes. She was still incredibly curious as to where he had gotten those immaculately carved pieces, and wondered how he and his friend Ignatz had known how she and the other students had looked after only one day. Were their memories really that precise?
She spent much of the afternoon winding down, before going to the dining hall to see what they had to offer. True to their claims from earlier, Raphael was there with an enormously loaded plate of meats and other delightful-smelling food.
"Hey Petra!" he waved, and the students that sat next to him did the same. Judging by their colors, they were also Golden Deer students, but Petra smiled and waved right back at them regardless. Different classes did not concern her, and her hatred of discrimination was something she practiced as well.
Despite the friends and acquaintances she had made earlier throughout the day, Petra opted to eat alone, or at least at a table not currently occupied. The cuisine of Garreg Mach was not too different from that of Enbarr, with many things that were sweet, but almost overbearingly so. Thankfully, most of the meats and spices were not too awful, even if they were a significant step down from what she had enjoyed back in Brigid.
She was joined a few moments later by a young woman with long flowing brown hair. In the moment that she looked up, her eyes met the young woman's green ones, and she smiled.
"Your reputation precedes you, Princess of Brigid," she cooed, "I've heard a lot of things about you in the last day alone, but what am I thinking? That's no way to start a conversation. How do you like it here at Garreg Mach?"
"I am liking it here so far," Petra smiled, "although now I have curiosity about what reputation I am having. Are you from Adrestia?"
"Yes, from Enbarr, no less." the girl beamed, although there was something off about her smile, as if it was hiding a deep-seated pain behind the notion of where she was from despite the smile and outstretched hand. "I'm Dorothea Arnault, by the way—Thea, if you'd prefer."
"Petra Macneary," Petra shook her hand, "so you were saying something about a reputation I am having? How are you knowing this and what kind of reputation is it?"
"Well," Dorothea began, "it was actually a few years ago, shortly after the Empire beat back Brigid and Dagda." she noticed the expression on Petra's face change. "Word on the streets was that some "bratty foreigner" had knocked Duke Aegir off his feet. He's a vile enough man even by noble standards, and now that I know more about who was actually at the palace during that time, I've got to ask: That was you, wasn't it?"
"Duke Aegir is a very unfriendly man, yes." Petra nodded, "he said cruel and untrue things about my father, so in my anger I attacked him and knocked him off his feet. It is giving me much to consider, but I am not apologizing and I have zero regretting."
"HA!" Dorothea actually threw her head back with laughter in that moment, "good. Don't apologize for putting someone like that in his place. It's the least you can do."
"I do not want to be needing to do it again," Petra lightly prodded her food with her fork, "but if I am needing to, I will not have any hesitations."
"I like you already," Dorothea snickered before taking in a big whiff of the stir-fry on her plate. "Did you know his son is here at the academy this year too? I wonder how he felt about it…"
"I did not know he was having a son," Petra put a finger to her lip as her brow furrowed.
"Really?" Dorothea's eyebrows shot up, "like I said, he's here at the academy this year—he'll be one of our classmates even."
"Are you knowing his name yet?" Petra asked, and tilted her head when Dorothea's face soured.
"Don't worry," she shook her head, a very clear sardonic tone to her voice that even Petra understood, "if you don't know, he'll tell you. In fact… speak of the devil and he shall appear."
A tall and regal-looking young man with striking orange hair approached them, sitting nearby but giving the girls enough clearance to not invade their space or shoehorn himself into their conversation.
"I hope you do not mind if I dine here," his tone was gentle and warm, an almost striking contrast to the sour, bellicose inflections of Ludwig von Aegir. "I am Ferdinand von Aegir, legitimate son of the Aegir Family."
"It's always so wonderful to get such warm greetings from the nobility," Dorothea quipped, "especially the noblest of the nobles of Adrestia."
"If I am causing you offense, I offer my sincere apologies," Ferdinand gave a slow nod almost like a subtle bow, "I am not trying to sow discord, much less in the first week here. If I have wronged you, Dorothea, I would see my error made right."
"It's nothing," Dorothea shook her head, and while Petra could not see any falsehood behind Ferdinand's words, she could detect the hollowness in Dorothea's claim. "Petra and I were just discussing the time she knocked your father off his feet at the Royal Palace."
"I see," Ferdinand briefly steepled his fingers, as if trying to decide if he wanted to call Dorothea's bluff, "Yes, I heard many things about a girl from Brigid nearly killing him, but I could not see any injuries or even any scuffs on his clothing."
"I was running away after I pushed him," Petra reasoned, "And I only attacked him because he was saying vile things about my father and my land of home. I do not wish to be causing offense with you, but I am not having any sorrow for what I did to that man."
"My father…" Ferdinand let out a small sigh, "he is not the man that a proper noble should be, and… well, I shall spare you the spiel, but it suffices me to say that he is not the kind of man that a proper noble should be. Thus it falls to me, Ferdinand von Aegir, to ensure that the Noble name of Aegir is not sullied further."
"Well…" Dorothea's eye roll was subtle, "that's certainly grand… or grandiose." she muttered the last part quietly enough that Ferdinand did not pick up on it.
"I am thinking that is an ambition of much goodness." Petra gave him a smile, "Duke Aegir might be a man with much hostility, but that is not meaning that you must be too. I am Petra Macneary, Princess of Brigid. I am still learning the language here, so please be giving me patience if I am making the mistakes."
The two of them hit it off almost immediately, although Petra also made an effort to include Dorothea in the conversation when she could. Ferdinand seemed enthused about Petra's technical nobility, even if she was little more than a hostage and her homeland a vassal state of the much mightier Adrestaian Empire, but despite her occasional fumbling with her words, he seemed to already have developed a strong liking for her, even going as far as complimenting the elegant and regal way she carried herself and how she processed the world around her.
"I am not thinking I possess quite as much of this elegance as you are saying," Petra chuckled, her tanned cheeks flushing slightly pink, "but I offer gratitude nonetheless."
"I am not one to lie about such a thing," Ferdinand promised, "Even if you are not from Adrestia, you are still a princess and are thus deserving of respect."
Petra smiled and accepted the compliment as the two continued chatting. Ferdinand almost singlehandedly reshaped Petra's outlook on Adrestian nobles during this time, especially because throughout her keen observation and her knowledge of body language, nothing he seemed to say seemed to be anything short of genuine honesty—or at the very least, things he genuinely believed, whether about himself or about others. He was not as gossipy as other nobles Petra had met, but perhaps that was for the better. Petra noticed that Dorothea seemed tense around him and wondered what had happened between the two of them to create that ire, but she said nothing to the other girl for the moment.
Incidentally, while he had been the last one to sit down, Ferdinand was also the first one up.
"It has been most pleasurable getting to acquaint myself with my classmates better," there was a warmth in his smile that brought a little smile to Petra's own visage, "but I must be going. There is always so much to do and so little time in a day!"
As he cleared his settings and walked off, Dorothea heaved a sigh of relief.
"You are not liking Ferdinand very much, are you?" Petra tilted her head slightly.
"He is like a bee," Dorothea replied, "always buzzing about for some reason or another, but it's a long story. If my memory serves, I've only seen him one other time before today, and I'd rather not talk about it if that's alright."
"I am from Brigid," Petra gestured, "I like long stories. But if you have preferences not to be talking about it, I will have understanding and will not give you questions."
"Thank you, Petra," Dorothea smiled, "so you're getting along fine here? I mean I get that it's your first day too and all that, but how has Fódlan treated you?"
"It has treated me okay," Petra hummed, "I will be settling soon, and so far almost everyone at Garreg Mach has shown great kindness."
"I'm glad." Dorothea smiled, "I still can't believe you're a princess, and all the way from Brigid!"
"You have my gratitude, but you are not needing to call me princess." Petra shook her head as if to cover up a returning blush, "calling me Petra is okay instead."
"Even if you weren't a princess, you're still so beautiful," Dorothea beamed, "and I used to be a songstress, surrounded by all sorts of glitz and glamour, so maybe I'm just buttering myself up, but I like to think I know a thing or two about beauty."
"Putting butter on yourself is making you beautiful?" Petra's eyes widened and her mouth dropped just enough to be noticeable.
"Goodness, no!" Dorothea laughed, "it's a figure of speech; a turn of phrase. It basically means to talk yourself up; almost like bragging but not quite so… I dunno, arrogant?"
"Oh," Petra's cheeks flushed again, as she finished cleaning her plate, "well, you are speaking such kind words to me, Dorothea. It is making my cheeks blush."
"There's nothing to blush about if you ask me." Dorothea looked Petra right in the eye, "you're every little girl's dream of what a princess should be! You're certainly a step above most other royals or nobles I've ever met or heard about."
"I do not have nobility here," Petra explained as Dorothea slid her empty plate away. "You have a clear disliking for nobility though, and I have curiosity for why that is."
"Oh, that'll just drag the mood down," thea shook her head, "the short version is that I've met too many people like Duke Aegir, and that many of them use their money or noble status for their own gain while hurting others who they think are below them."
"Yes, many of the nobles were unkind to me when I first came to Enbarr," Petra explained, "but I do not like discrimination, not even against those of nobleness. There are good nobles and bad nobles just like anyone else. It was a good noble who helped me come to the monastery, even."
"And what about the not-good nobles?" Thea asked, "like Duke Aegir?"
"I do not like them," Petra shook her head, "but they cannot be changing who I am. No matter what they try to do or say to me, I am still a princess of Brigid, and as long as I am remembering this, I can be standing strong no matter what they are doing to me."
"You really are a princess, you know that?" Dorothea chuckled. "It almost makes me jealous."
"Do not have jealousy, Dorothea," Petra placed a hand on Dorothea's shoulder, "although I am having a question now. What is it that makes you say I am a princess?"
"Well obviously first and foremost is the fact that you literally are one, silly!" Dorothea playfully tapped Petra's shoulder, barely enough to even nudge her, "but it's the way you carry yourself. You are so elegant and regal—and no, I'm not just parroting Ferdinand; he was right about some things. But you're also just so polite and so well-mannered—not to mention that you're also very beautiful. I bet you would look dazzling in a colorful gown."
"I have curiosity about some things again," Petra put her hand to her chin, "if someone is carrying themself that is a turn of phrase with meaning, yes? That is meaning the behaviour, or something of closeness to that, I am thinking."
"Yes," Dorothea gave her an encouraging smile, "one of these days I'll have to sit down with you and teach you some of the common idioms and turns of phrase… maybe after I've gotten to see you in a proper princess gown."
"Much of the Fódlan garb is strange to me, and some of it has much stuffiness and gives me difficulty in moving." Petra explained, "in Brigid, many of us wear clothing that is lighter and less covering and constricting. But it is also much warmer and more humid in Brigid than in Fódlan, so I have understanding why some people are wearing hotter clothing."
"Oh, I didn't mean to cause offense," Dorothea's expression melted slightly, "obviously I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable, Petra, especially not on my behalf. Maybe when I share some of Fódlan's turns of phrase you can share more about Brigid with me. You can say that I have much interest in it too!"
"I am always loving to share more about my land of home," Petra gave such an earnestly warm smile that Dorothea nearly melted on the spot, "we will be meeting and talking again then, yes?"
"Absolutely!" Dorothea beamed, "Although I shouldn't keep you too much longer. People are starting to leave and at this rate we'll be the only ones there."
"It is alright," Petra hummed, "thank you for giving me your time, Dorothea. You are giving me much to consider."
"As are you…" Dorothea rose to her feet. "Thank you again, Petra." She parted, while Petra actually got up for seconds. Fódlan cuisine was still not what she was used to, but there were some aspects of it that she found tolerable or even slightly enjoyable, even if she did miss the fruits and spices from home. She would have to try her hand at cooking, and see if she could make something sweet that was not overwhelmingly so like the sweet dishes from Fódlan.
From the windows she could see the skies outside growing darker, and it led her to contemplate everything that had happened today. She thought of Felix, the fierce aspiring swordmaster who hid a curious interest for her techniques under his gruff exterior. She did not mind his words; to her he felt like a man who would focus on discipline over consolation, were he a teacher of his arts. She did not expect him to become her mentor, but she was confident that she could learn much about swordsmanship from him.
She also thought about Raphael and Caspar, especially as she at her second helping of meat. Raphael seemed like a good-natured young man; very straightforward and simple, with nothing to hide. Caspar seemed similar, and while Petra was shocked and slightly offended that he had no idea who she was or what his father had done to her father, he seemed to be the same as Raphael insomuch that subtlety and secrecy were not his thing. Maybe she was wrong, but Caspar seemed much too blunt to have feigned that confusion.
Claude had been something of a mystery and a wildcard, although the game he played with her had been entertaining and she hoped to play it again—or perhaps even against other students. There was much to be learned in that style of gameplay, and much to learn about who the real Claude von Riegan was, and what he could teach her.
Ferdinand and Dorothea, particularly the latter, gave her much to think about as well. Compared to his father Ludwig, father and son were like night and day, and Petra was curious to see if he was merely a talented actor, or if he was as earnest and genuine as he appeared to be. By contrast, Dorothea seemed to be a much more secretive individual, and while she could not fault the older girl for being that way, it made her wonder what Thea was hiding. She didn't suspect that Thea was trying to manipulate her to some end, but her boundless curiosity had her hoping that she could learn more of Dorothea's secrets as time progressed—perhaps even become friends proper. They had hit it off rather well, although Petra felt the same about almost everyone she had met today. Garreg Mach was a new chapter in her life, and with each new chapter, she would face new challenges and overcome them just as she always had done, and she would rise victorious or die trying.
Classes had not even started yet and Petra was already creating an agenda. She needed to hone her skills to stay toe-to-toe with Felix, she needed to stay updated with Claude's new strategy game he was working on, and she wanted to know more about Dorothea and Caspar in particular, albeit both for different reasons.
"A new challenge to be overcome." Petra told herself this and sighed, holding her head high. "One step before the next step."