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One of the problems of having a naturally flirty demeanor was that, when you flirted and meant it, people just did not take you seriously. Hilda knew this, she had accepted this, and had never minded it much at all. After all, when it came to romance, she had never felt anything stronger than a passing fancy. She had never had a reason to want to be taken seriously, so she didn’t mind when people didn’t do it. She rather liked being seen as a silly, unreliable girl.
But things changed when she met Marianne. Sweet, beautiful Marianne, so starved for love and yet so reluctant to accept it. Cute as a button and meek as a lamb, Hilda just wanted to take her in her arms and protect her from all harm. There was something about Marianne that made Hilda want to go the extra mile, work hard just to earn a small yet genuine smile aimed her way.
Hilda had never felt this way before, but she knew that what she felt was more than friendship, more than one of those pacing fancies. She loved Marianne dearly and differently than she loved anyone else. As Marianne’s self-proclaimed best friend, she already had hand holding privileges and told her she loved her on the daily, but Hilda wanted those actions and words to be taken not as just a token of friendship, but as a token of love. She wanted to go further, kiss Marianne on the lips—or everywhere, all around—hold her, touch her, maybe go down on her if Marianne was comfortable with it. She wanted to take Marianne by the waist and parade her around the monastery, flaunting their relationship even if that meant she couldn’t trick boys into doing her chores anymore. Hilda could put her laziness aside for Marianne, and that was something else. The day she wrote to her brother about her crush on her housemate, explaining the way in which she helped her organize the library and the infirmary and didn’t even mind, Holst had written back exceptionally fast, opening the letter with an “Are you okay?!” written in uncharacteristically messy penmanship. Not that Holst didn’t support her or anything. He actually expressed a lot of relief at the fact that Hilda was aiming for a girl instead of a boy, because he was weird like that.
So Hilda had the support of her family, was sure of her own feelings, and not insecure about whether or not they were reciprocated—Marianne didn’t seem to think much about romance, but Hilda didn’t doubt her own ability to make her friend fall in love with her. There was no doubt that Hilda was the person Marianne loved the most in the monastery, and that was a fantastic starting point for a blossoming romance. Still, there was a problem. And the problem was that Hilda had a naturally flirty demeanor, and thus Marianne didn’t take her seriously.
“I love you,” Hilda could tell her with all the seriousness in the world, and Marianne would answer with a sweet blush and a shy smile.
“Y-you’re sweet, Hilda,” she would reply. “Even to someone like me. Thank you.”
And sure, Hilda wasn’t someone who got easily embarrassed, but even she would start to feel mortified after so many failed confessions. She wanted to clarify that she meant it romantically, but she would open her mouth and change the subject instead, wanting to leave the embarrassing situation behind her as quickly as possible. So, during the second half of their year at Garreg Mach Monastery, Hilda tried to make Marianne acknowledge her feelings indirectly, by showing rather than telling. She got touchier, more attentive, complimented Marianne more and more, did her best to make her feel loved and cherished and special under Hilda’s undivided attention.
Granted, Marianne wasn’t very good at taking so much affection and love.
“You are too good to me,” she would say on the good days.
“I don’t deserve any of this,” she would say on the bad ones.
And Hilda’s heart would break a little, because Marianne was pushing her away for Goddess knows what, and the rejection wasn’t born out of a lack of affection, but rather something deeper and darker that Marianne wouldn’t share with her.
On the night of the ball, when Hilda invited Marianne to the Goddess Tower—and the implications couldn’t be clearer, because everyone knew the legend behind it—she found out that Marianne just wasn't ready. They were alone up there, away from the festivities that Hilda enjoyed so much, and Hilda took a deep bow in front of her friend, asking the fair lady to grace her with a dance in her best imitation of Lorenz’s voice.
“Hilda!” Marianne laughed, softly and breathlessly, a bright utterance of her name that made every effort worth it. “There’s no music up here!”
“Then we’ll make it ourselves!” Hilda answered with a laugh of her own. She straightened her spine and offered her hand, which Marianne took with a shy smile. Hilda took up the leading position, which she wasn’t very good at, but wouldn’t complain about when it felt so right to have her hand on Marianne’s waist. “I wanted you to enjoy a dance, but I thought doing it in the ballroom with everyone else would make you self-conscious, so! Since you say I make you feel at ease…”
“You… you do,” Marianne nodded, letting the shorter girl start to lead her around the balcony while humming the same tune the violins were playing downstairs. “Thank you, Hilda… you’re always so thoughtful.”
“Only for you,” Hilda said in between hums, stepping back and raising her arm to spin Marianne.
“Th-then I’m the luckiest… I don’t know what I did to deserve…”
“Shush now, shush! I won’t allow you to speak like that about my favorite person in the monastery, even if that person is yourself!”
“Your favorite person?” Marianne asked in a small voice.
Hilda wanted to hold on tighter and dip Marianne and kiss her and never let go. She stopped their dance instead, and shifted the hands they had joined together from a loose hold to intertwined fingers.
“Jeez, Marianne, why are you even surprised?” she said, frowning. “I try to be obvious, you know?”
“B-but still…” Marianne averted her eyes, looking down at the space between them. “You’re such and bright and beautiful person, and I'm… I'm just…”
“Listen,” Hilda intervened before Marianne could belittle herself anymore, “I know you don’t love yourself. I know you struggle a lot with things you don't want to share, and I know you and I are very different people, but… what does pushing me away accomplish, Marianne?” She squeezed the other girl’s hand when she noticed it shaking. “Aren't you just making things more difficult for yourself, even though you're already suffering? Whether you feel worth it or not, you like being around me, don't you?”
“I do,” Marianne replied without hesitation, though she still looked insecure. Hilda smiled anyway, gladly taking the small victory.
“And I love being around you too,” she said. “Even if I have to help you out sometimes and that's a pain, even if you're hiding some deep dark secret, I just love your company. So isn't it fine, to stay together?”
Marianne pursed her lips and lifted her gaze slightly, not quite meeting Hilda’s eyes yet.
“I'm sure there are other people that would be a better use of your time…”
“Well, I’m not,” Hilda said, squeezing Marianne’s hand again. “Opposites attract and all that, right? You make me happy and I don't want us to grow apart, and that's that. It's simple, no need to make it complicated!” She leaned forward, lightly bumping her forehead into Marianne’s, which made the other girl finally look up into her eyes. Hilda smiled and whispered, “there you are. You don't have to do anything, okay? Just let me stay by your side and keep you company until you figure things out.”
“I… H-Hilda, I cannot ask this of you…”
“You're not asking, I'm volunteering!” Hilda laughed, pulling Marianne into a tight hug, her arms wrapped around the taller girl’s neck. “I, Hilda Valentine Goneril, am volunteering for a tall task!” she yelled into the quiet night. “This is a once in a lifetime chance! Don't you miss it!”
Hilda knew she had succeeded when Marianne muffled an incredulous laugh into her hair.
It was a partial success, however, because Hilda was sure after that conversation that Marianne just wasn't ready for love. Until she could learn to love herself she would never accept the love of others, and until that happened every single one of Hilda’s attempts to convey her feelings would get them nowhere. It would take a long time to get there too, because Marianne was growing every day, but there was a lot to overcome. Still, Hilda could wait. She was Hilda Valentine Goneril, never in a rush, always preferring to take things at a slower pace.
Besides, she thought as she started swaying their bodies together, resuming her humming, Marianne was worth the wait. Whether it took a year, or two, or five, or more, it would all be worth it.
For her, it would always be worth it. Hilda was certain of that.
It took five years and a half.
In truth, Marianne was ready before that. Hilda could see it easily. The professor’s return made everyone happy and hopeful, and Marianne was no exception. She had always relied on the professor for moral guidance, and once they returned, she became brighter. She smiled and laughed more often. Albeit clumsily, she actively tried to join in on the banter between the former members of the Golden Deer House. She spoke to more people, acted bolder on the battlefield, and since the day she had the cutest—and meanest—laughing fit in Hilda’s room, the air between them had changed.
Hilda was more observant than people gave her credit for, so she easily noticed Marianne’s lingering gazes and the sudden tension in the air between them whenever Hilda got overly affectionate. Marianne was finally learning to accept the love given to her, and she was starting to reciprocate. She reciprocated nervously, of course, but that was a part of her charm, something that made Hilda feel unparalleled tenderness. Knowing that Marianne was ready to take their relationship to the next step, knowing she could just reach out her hand and Marianne would take it, felt incredible to Hilda.
And yet, she didn’t try to confess again. She kept their relationship close but ambiguous, because maybe Marianne was ready, but the timing was completely off. They were in the middle of a war, and there was no time for romance. Sure, they had some downtime every month, but fortune had not smiled upon Hilda when it had granted her a powerful position within the army. Or rather, Claude had given her that position because Claude was clever and perceptive and a jerk for seeing how capable Hilda truly was and starting to use her as some sort of right-hand woman.
Not that she didn’t want to help Claude, she loved Claude, but she was just so… busy. She wanted to court Marianne properly, to be able to give her all her love and attention, but her attention was usually needed elsewhere, to manage supplies or command some soldiers or any boring stuff like that. And she couldn’t slack in this situation, even Hilda wouldn’t do that when so many lives were at stake and she was responsible for a great number of them. It was just such a pity, having a romance-ready Marianne so close yet so far. She wanted the war to end as quickly as possible so she could finally confess and maybe have her feelings reciprocated after so long.
But of course that couldn’t happen. Of course another war popped out of nowhere, all because of a letter from Hubert. Of course their army, battered and exhausted, couldn’t ignore such a threat to all of Fódlan, of course they had to get in on it.
Of course Hilda couldn’t ignore such an enemy when they had been living right under her nose, right next to her territory, for longer than she had even been alive. She was so, so tired though. So tired.
She told as much to Claude when they made their way back to the monastery, both of them soaring above the rest of the march in their wyverns.
“You should just confess,” he said, throwing her an apologetic look. “We never know what tomorrow brings and all that, right?”
“Oh, Claude, you’re more optimistic than that,” she replied. “I don’t want to confess at a bad time just because this is a war and we have to assume that we could all die in it. I don’t want any of us to die and I’m not going to act like I’m expecting it to happen.”
Claude shrugged. “It might happen, though. We’ve been exceptionally lucky to get so far without any major losses. The fact that the whole Golden Deer class is still intact is…”
“A sign that we’re super skilled and nothing will happen to us!” Hilda cut in, crossing her arms and immediately regretting it when she lost her balance and had to grip her wyvern’s saddle to steady herself. She cleared her throat and tried to play it cool. Claude was gracious enough not to point it out, though his mouth twitched. “We’ve made it this far, haven’t we? What can a few mystery enemies hidden underground even do to us when we’re this strong?”
Claude threw his head back and laughed heartily at that, which made Hilda pout slightly. She was used to his teasing, but still, she was as serious as she could get.
“You’re right about that, my friend,” he said, mirth still evident in the way his voice broke around the words. “Plus, how will I attend—and possibly ruin—your wedding if one of you dies after confessing?”
“Ruin?” Hilda asked, starting to laugh herself. “What nefarious plans do you have to ruin our day? Planning to flirt with my brother and make everyone uncomfortable again?”
“My dear Hilda, you wound me!” Claude said with an exaggerated frown and way too much flair in his voice. “That happened one time! And people only got uncomfortable because it was a war meeting!”
“Fine, you have my permission to flirt with him at my wedding then,” she said, laughing again when Claude fist pumped the air. She looked down at the rest of the march and chewed on her lip when she spotted a head of light blue hair. “Do you think I should just propose?” Hilda asked in a smaller voice. “When the war ends?”
“She won’t say no,” Claude supplied in a low voice as well. “You could make a pink ring for her and a blue one for yourself.”
“Men are so simple!” she laughed. “But you might be onto something. If I make them myself, she can’t say no, right?”
“She won’t say no, whether you make the rings or not,” Claude reassured, and Hilda was hit with a warm wave of affection for her friend. She wanted to steer her wyvern closer to his and give him a hug, but that was dangerous. She’d have to show her appreciation through words, she guessed.
“Just because you’re being so nice, I’m gonna do my absolute best on this final battle,” she said. “And then you’ll be the first one I invite to the wedding.”
“You sure know how to make a guy feel special,” Claude chuckled. His smile died down, and he fixed her with a rare, serious look. “We’ll get through this.”
“Of course we will!”
And so they did.
It was hard, and strange. The battle didn’t end at Shambhala, a city so unlike anything Hilda had ever seen that she couldn’t even think about it without getting a headache. It continued onto the next month, with the return of Nemesis of all people. Hilda had never thought she would be fighting an old king of legend that had brought the Ten Elites with him. She even took down Goneril! She took Freikugel in her hand and beat down an ancient ancestor of hers that was wielding a Freikugel of his own! Hilda was exhausted from the months of war, she couldn’t believe what was happening, and the figure Nemesis made on the distance was terrifying, but she had to make it. Marianne was right behind her on her steed, healing her from a distance when she got hurt and giving her the energy to push forward.
This was all for a happy future. If she could just make it through this, she would have a future where her friends, her family, and those she loved could be safe. A future where she wouldn’t have to stain her hands with blood anymore, where she could work making jewelry instead, where she could hold Marianne’s hand without any fear for what tomorrow would bring.
Hilda watched Claude and the professor finish Nemesis off, and she cheered until her lungs hurt. She jumped off her wyvern and ran towards Marianne. She bumped into Lysithea on the process, and she picked her up and spun her around, ignoring the younger girl’s complaints. Leonie joined them, taking Lysithea in her arms and spinning her around as well, and suddenly Raphael was there too, hugging them all tight. Hilda felt someone tug at her hand, and she turned her head with difficulty, smiling at Marianne, who had dismounted her steed and gotten to the group hug on her own. A few years back, she would not have felt like she had the right to join in, but now she was smiling with tears in her eyes, and Hilda wrapped an arm around her neck, bringing her into the pile that Ignatz and Lorenz had joined as well.
“Claude! Professor!” she yelled with a broken voice, pulling Marianne tighter and tighter against her body. The other girl’s face was pressed against her cheek, staining it with tears. Lysithea and Raphael were crying as well, and Hilda started feeling tears pooling in her eyes too. “You better get in here right now!”
They did, eventually. Claude put an arm around her and another around Marianne, and the professor all but crashed into them, almost making the group topple over. More people were crying now, Hilda included, and they probably made a completely unbecoming image of the highest ranking generals in all of Fódlan, but none of them seemed to care.
It was over now, over for real. They returned to the monastery, exhausted but overjoyed, and then did the only appropriate thing to do: they threw a giant feast. Their provisions weren’t as abundant as Claude would have liked, but everyone was lively, sharing food, music and dances.
Hilda danced with Marianne, of course, but unlike five years ago, they danced in the same room as everyone else. Marianne was laughing every time Hilda spun her, and she let her eyes wander off to her friends dancing around them, smiling openly at all of them and making Hilda feel so proud that she could almost cry. She didn’t even mind not having Marianne’s full attention, too elated with the happiness of the moment to care when they swapped partners on the next song. Hilda danced with Claude too, hugged him tight until he complained and swatted his arm when he thanked her for everything.
“Are you proposing tonight?” he whispered into her hair, to which she shook her head.
“The rings aren't ready yet. I didn't have the time.”
“Then just confess. I can see you're dying to.”
Hilda smiled up at her friend because he was right, as always. The song ended and she turned to Marianne, who was only a couple of steps away, laughing about something with Raphael.
“Marianne!” Hilda called, waiting until the other girl turned around to continue. “Come to the Goddess Tower with me?”
Marianne’s jaw dropped momentarily, a beautiful blush spreading across her cheeks before a smile took over her features.
“Of course,” she said, stepping forward and offering her hand, making Hilda’s heart jump in her chest because Marianne had never offered before.
“You both deserve this,” Claude whispered to her ears only before patting her back and urging her forward.
Hilda kind of felt like she was on a wedding altar and Claude was dropping her off to be wed, which was a pretty nice thought, but she knew Holst would die of heartbreak if he wasn't the one doing just that whenever she and Marianne married for good, so she shook the thought away.
Because it was going to happen, Hilda was sure of that as they walked up the stairs of the tower hand in hand. Finally, finally, they were going to get together. Marianne looked sheepish now, her cheeks still rosy and her gaze cast downwards. She was adorable, the very picture of loveliness, and Hilda was sure that she was the one who had lucked out in being able to meet, befriend, and hopefully soon date, someone like Marianne von Edmund.
“I'm so happy to have met you,” she blurted out before they even made it to the top of the tower. “You make me a better person.”
That made Marianne halt in the middle of the stairway, and Hilda stopped as well, one step above, looking down instead of up to gaze at beautiful brown eyes.
“You do too,” Marianne said with a broken voice. “Hilda, Hilda… Without you, I don't know what I would have done.”
“I was only there to give you a little push every once and again,” Hilda said, smiling. “You did the bulk of the work, Marianne! You're amazing.”
“W-well, you're amazing as well,” Marianne countered, her voice uncharacteristically determined. “Without those little pushes, I would have never come out of my shell. And I… I am not sure if I would be alive right now, if I hadn't.”
Hilda’s smile softened at that. She was no stranger to Marianne’s past longing for death, Marianne herself had admitted it to Hilda a couple months back, when she told her that she didn't want to die anymore and Hilda had held back tears because the thought of her wanting to die at all was heartbreaking.
“I'm just happy you're here,” Hilda admitted softly, squeezing Marianne’s hand. “I love you dearly, do you know that? More than anyone else.”
“I… do,” Marianne breathed, squeezing back. “I love you too.”
“I mean romantically, you know. I want to date you. Court you, if we’re being formal.”
“I know. I have always known.”
Hilda’s eyes widened at that. She licked her lips, suddenly nervous. She had been preparing herself to do some convincing, but this completely shattered her expectations. She didn’t know how to reply.
“That means… what does that mean?” she asked.
“Nothing bad!” Marianne reassured as if she could sense Hilda’s sudden nerves and wanted to ease them immediately. She smiled sheepishly. “I love you romantically as well. I just… back then… I didn’t want to accept that. You were more than clear about your feelings, but I did not feel worthy of your love so I pretended it wasn’t… like it is.”
“Oh.”
Marianne made a troubled expression, her head bowing down. “That was probably terrible of me, wasn’t it?” she said. “To dismiss your feelings like that even though you were so honest… I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, Marianne,” Hilda sighed, untangling her hand from the other’s to wrap her arms around her neck, pulling her into a hug that made her bury her face in Hilda’s chest. “My sweet, sweet, Marianne, it’s okay. You were going through a lot and I knew that, I never took offense on how you reacted. You’re accepting my feelings now, and that’s what matters to me. That you’re okay, and you feel like you can let yourself have this.”
Hilda felt two arms wrap around her waist to hug her back tightly. Marianne nuzzled her face into Hilda’s chest, and Hilda laughed breathlessly, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“We didn’t even make it to the top of the tower,” Marianne whispered, her breath ticklish on Hilda’s skin. That made Hilda laugh again, and Marianne joined in with a giggle of her own.
It was a beautiful sound. Hilda would never tire of hearing it.
“Should we head to the top?” Hilda asked. “Have our big romantic moment there? We got the confession out of the way, but maybe our first kiss…”
“Here is fine,” Marianne said, pulling away just enough to look up at Hilda. Her smile was small, but radiant. “This is more unique. It beseems you.”
“Why, because I’m too lazy to climb all the way to the top?” Hilda asked. Marianne snorted at that, completely unladylike, and Hilda had never wanted to kiss anyone more. “Whatever, the top of the Goddess Tower is everyone’s spot. This can be ours alone.”
“The middle of the stairs is our spot?”
“You must think I’m so silly.” Hilda cupped Marianne’s cheeks, squishing them until she looked a little bit like a squirrel. “You’re lucky I find your occasional rudeness so endearing,” she teased. “I’m too in love with you to take offense.”
Marianne’s smile softened, and she took her hands away from Hilda’s waist to put them over her own calloused ones, holding them there, pressed to her cheeks.
“Hilda… thank you.”
“For what?” Hilda asked, though she smiled softly as well.
“For everything. I really, truly love you.”
“You sure know how to make a girl happy,” Hilda replied, leaning her head forward to rest their foreheads together. Marianne’s eyes fluttered shut, and she leaned her head against one of Hilda’s hands.
“Not as much as you do,” she whispered, pressing a reverent kiss to Hilda’s palm.
Hilda tilted Marianne’s head upwards, leant in, and captured her lips with her own. It was a bit too dark in the stairway, a bit narrow and uncomfortable, and because neither of them had moved since they had stopped walking to the top, Hilda was still a step above Marianne, reversing their height difference in a way that felt a little weird.
It was unusual, an unplanned confession in an unexpected spot. Hilda was still tired from the endless stream of battles and all of her duties in the army, but all of that weariness seemed to drift away when Marianne reacted to the kiss, shuddering and grabbing Hilda’s wrists to keep her where she was.
As far as Hilda was concerned, the moment was perfect. Because they had gotten there, because it was happening, and because Marianne was holding her like she had every right to; unapologetic, free and beautiful, like she was always meant to be.