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It felt like a dream. The sounds of war had faded, the clash of swords, the screams of death, the heart piercing cries, all vanished into nothingness. Five long years of nothing but horrible war, the feeling of her sword piercing the enemy’s heart that Dorothea was never able to get used to, finished. Peace had finally washed over Fódlan, and for some reason, it felt strange to the former opera singer. She stood upon the Goddess Tower, overlooking what used to be Garreg Mach Monastery, but in recent years had become a base of operations for the Black Eagle Strike Force, as well as her home. Now that the war was over, what was she to do? Surely she could not remain here for the rest of her life, and she had not succeeded in her mission to find a suitable partner for herself. How odd it was that she was lamenting the bright and peaceful future, she thought to herself. Perhaps her vision was selfish, but… everyone else on the Black Eagles Strike Force had a future already mapped out in front of them. They were all nobles with land and new duties to tend to, but Dorothea was nothing but a commoner.
“Dorothea?” a voice piped out from behind her. The former opera singer whipped around, her eyes widened. Before her was the future queen of Brigid and her close ally, Petra Macneary. There was clear concern in her eyes as she approached Dorothea. “I could not find you. There is a celebration in the dining hall, but I was worrying about you…”
Ah, a celebration. Dorothea did her best to put on a signature smile upon her face, just like she always did when she was on stage. “I’m sorry, Petra. Don’t worry about me! I was just… thinking. That’s all,” she replied, sounding a bit unsure of herself despite her cheerful tone.
Petra shook her head. “I am knowing that tone, Dorothea,” she replied, a frown upon her face. “You are worrying about your future now that the war is over. Am I correct?”
How smart Petra was, Dorothea thought to herself. Her friend had certainly gotten to know her over their five years of being with each other, exchanging chat about their hair and what Brigid was like. Just before the final battle had taken place, Petra had invited Dorothea to come to Brigid with her after the war, but the former opera singer was still unsure if Petra had been serious about her offer, or if she had simply been making conversation. Of course, in her heart, she truly wished that Petra was being serious. “I guess I can’t hide anything from you!” Dorothea laughed out. “It’s just that… everyone else here has somewhere to go. All of our friends, our allies, they have places here in Fódlan. But I’m just me, a commoner. I don’t know if I can just go back to the Mittlefrank Opera Company without a plan.”
Petra looked a bit puzzled as she tilted her head ever so slightly to the side. “I thought you said you would be going with me to Brigid after the war?” she pointed out, confusion in her voice.
Dorothea blinked, her heart racing ever so slightly. “You… you were really serious about that offer, Petra?” she asked.
“Of course! I am being completely serious. You have become… a dear person to me. I am not wanting to leave you all alone,” Petra confessed, her face adorned with a brilliant smile and the slightest of blushes.
“Wait… wait, hold on a second, Petra,” Dorothea interrupted, her face tinted pink as well. “By a dear person, do you mean… like a best friend, or…”
Petra shook her head immediately. “I am not knowing what the right word for it is, but it is not friendship. It feels… like something more. Are you feeling the same?” she inquired, clearly having trouble choosing her words. Though Petra had improved on her vocabulary and speech patterns in the last five years, she still had some difficulty, which was leading to uncertainty causing Dorothea’s heart race quite fast.
“Oh Petra,” she sighed out, approaching the slightly younger woman. She had to be honest with her emotions now. From a young age, Dorothea had known about her feelings towards other women. She had done little to hide it during her time at the monastery, openly flirting with the likes of Ingrid and other noble women, but had always wondered if there were any others who had the same sentiments as her. Her friendship towards Petra was never just that, in her heart. Petra had grown to be a beautiful young woman, capable, strong, and of course, simply wonderful. “I suppose I cannot hide it for much longer, can I? I’ve had feelings for you for so long now. Of course I want to come with you to Brigid, but I don’t want to do so as just your friend. I want… I want to be with you, Petra,” she gushed out, feeling the heat on her cheeks grow stronger with each word.
It took a moment for Petra to process the words she was hearing. The language of Fódlan was her second, after all, and she did not want to misunderstand a single one of them. “You… you are saying that you are wanting to be… no… you wish to marry me?” she asked hesitantly, her voice rather quiet as the blush on her face grew.
Dorothea gave the other woman a firm nod. “I know it may be sudden, but…” Her hands fumbled around her attire, searching for the precious item she always kept on hand. She fished a shining ring out of one of her well hidden pockets. She had received it once from one of her many dates, so it was well beyond something that she could ever afford. The woman had kept this ring on her for many years, just in case, a reminder that perhaps one day she could find the person of her dreams… and now, she was holding it out towards the future queen of Brigid, a hopeful smile upon her face. “I want to go to Brigid with you… I want to see your homeland together, side by side, hand in hand… as not friends, but as wives.”
“Ah…” Petra breathed out, her whole body stiff, her heart feeling like it would break free from her chest with the quickened tempo it was beating at. “I was worrying that I did not have the right understanding about our relationship, but… it seems I was right after all.” She placed her fingers upon the ring, running the tip of her finger around the loop. “It may seem strange to some, but I have had feelings for you for many years now…!” she gushed out, her emotions suddenly pouring forth. “So… I accept!”
A heavy weight suddenly felt like it was pushed off of Dorothea’s shoulders, and she couldn’t do anything but laugh with relief. How long had she been searching, how long had she been holding back these feelings for? Warm tears filled her eyes as she crashed her body into Petra’s, her arms snaking their way around the other woman’s back as she pulled her tightly against her. Her face nudged itself into the crook of Petra’s neck, allowing herself to cry with joy into her partner’s shoulder.
“Dorothea,” whispered Petra, stunned at first. Her hand carefully reached up to caress Dorothea’s hair, fingers weaving their way through brown locks. “It seems you did need my shoulder after all!” she laughed out. She was surprised to find that her eyes were beginning to glisten with tears as well. She had been so afraid of leaving Fódlan without her dearest companion, being cut off from all her allies she had spent so many years fighting beside. “...I will be needing your shoulder next, it seems,” she commented, her voice wavering.
“All the time in the world for you, Petra,” whispered Dorothea. “We have forever together now…”
Of course, Dorothea was worried about how the people of Brigid would feel about their union, but that could be put aside for now. After all, this moment would only last for so long, and she wished to bask in it, to take in every last second. Petra was so warm, and now, they belonged to each other and no one else.
The future queens of Brigid… what a wonderful thought that was.