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Her makeup was running. Her cheeks glistened in the pale moonlight shining in from her window. The tip of her nose was pink, like a little button.
Marianne sniffled as she sat in her dark room, her thoughts consuming her as she looked out upon Garreg Mach Monastery. Had she truly made the right decision? How were her Leicester friends doing? What if they needed her? What if they needed her, and she could do nothing to help them?
During her school days, Marianne was fascinated by the new professor, Byleth. They were quiet and strong, yet still had an aura of gentle compassion for those around them. Marianne admired the professor from afar before finally asking to join their house: The Blue Lions.
That wasn’t the only reason, though. Secretly, Marianne harbored feelings for the house leader, Dimitri. She admired that he put aside social titles and got along well with people from all kinds of backgrounds -- including Marianne’s own. She recalled memories of sitting at the lunch table with the young prince, chatting and laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Since then, His Highness had gone through some...rough times, and Marianne only felt more useless as a result.
Now, she cried because she did not know what else to do. She always wanted to help others, but she never knew if they wanted her help. She constantly pushed people away, telling them that they’d be better off without speaking to her, but deep down she wanted people to call upon her. She wanted to be a haven for those in need, but…
Suddenly, Marianne heard the hinges of her door creak as it was pushed open. Her shoulders jerked upwards in surprise and she spun around, damp eyes widening when she saw who was standing there.
“Your Highness,” She whispered, quickly dabbing her cheeks with a handkerchief she kept with her. “M-My apologies, I did not mean to disturb you.”
“Not at all,” Dimitri replied, an easy smile accentuating his features. “May I come in?”
“U-Um...you may.”
Dimitri nodded once and entered the room, closing the wooden door behind him once he was inside. Without any sudden movements, Dimitri made his way over to the weeping woman and sat down next to her, his brow furrowing with concern.
“I apologize for disturbing you, but I heard your quiet weeps as I was on my way to my quarters,” Dimitri said quietly. “I know how it feels to be up late, crying under the weight of the world. If you’d like to speak of your woes, I am here to listen.”
Marianne cast her eyes down to the floor, a new set of tears blossoming anew at her waterlines. “I just...I’m afraid it’s a silly reason, but I simply do not know what to do. War is monstrous -- you know it as well as I,” Better than I. “I am happy to be here with you and the others, but I can’t shake the feeling that I am also needed elsewhere. I haven’t heard anything of Claude’s whereabouts in years, and none of the others have made an effort to contact me, either. Have they branded me a traitor? I still count them as my friends, and it would ruin me to find out they’ve cast my memory aside.
“At the same time, I don’t know if anyone needs me at all,” Marianne continued, new tears now following the tracks of old ones. “I do all that I can to help our army, but I can’t shake this feeling that people would rather not have me around. I was not born in Faerghus, and while such a thing didn’t matter in school, now I cannot go anywhere without feeling the hateful gazes of Kingdom soldiers as I pass. I don’t belong here, and I’m not sure the Alliance would take me back if I tried.”
Dimitri nodded solemnly, taking in every word out of Marianne’s mouth. He watched her lips as she spoke, and his cruel eye began to betray him as it wandered around her body. He admired the way Marianne’s nightgown fitted her body. It was pale blue, even paler than her hair, and it looked simply striking. If Dimitri looked close enough, he could see small white flowers embroidered on the bodice.
“You and I have something in common, Marianne,” Dimitri said then, taking the young lady’s hand in his own. “We put others’ needs before our own. I promise that you are needed here -- and if it’s anything in the way of comfort, I need you here. So I must ask: Do you trust me?”
Marianne’s pale cheeks flushed pink as Dimitri took her hand, and she dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief once again. “I’m...I’m sorry?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
Dimitri let out a slow exhale before inching closer to Marianne, his large arms wrapping the smaller woman in a tight embrace. He rested his head atop hers -- he had quite a few inches of height on her -- and he could feel her body tense in his arms.
“Um...Dimitri?” Marianne asked quietly. “Forgive me for being so blunt, but...um...why are you doing this?”
“Do you not like it?” The King replied, his arms recoiling back at the slight intervention.
“N-No, it’s not that…” Marianne swallowed hard, then continued with a giggle. “It’s just, I didn’t know you were so cuddly behind closed doors.”
Dimitri’s cheeks flushed bright red. He didn’t say anything at first, instead opting to pull Marianne closer and wrap his body around her tighter. He could feel her breathing against his arm.
“Well...it wasn’t always like this,” Dimitri admitted. “But someone once taught me that a way to heal a wounded heart is to provide comfort physically. I never had that sort of affection growing up, and I may be so bold as to assume that you didn’t either.
“As I said, you and I have something in common. We come from a dark, broken place, as painful as it is to admit. You with your mystery crest and inner belief that you’re not wanted, and myself...well. I’ll spare you the story. You’ve probably heard it before.” Dimitri let out a low chuckle.
“But know this, Marianne...you can heal. I have crawled out of the darkest pit of hell with a vengeance, and though I pushed countless people away back then, I will not let you do the same.”
Dimitri lifted his head off of Marianne’s head, instead placing a kiss on her soft, unstyled hair. “I love you, Marianne,” Dimitri whispered. “It may not be much, but...I love you.”