Chapter Text
Bernadetta was nervous. She was always nervous, but different kinds of nerves scared her in different ways. This fear was one that cut her to her core, unlike others that merely made the already jumpy girl hide behind her nearest classmate. Angry teachers, the threat of bandits, Hubert- all things that sent Bernadetta running for safety. But this was a fear that froze her in place, that stole her breath and stopped her dead in her tracks; and yet she went through this more often than she could say. She swallowed it, too nervous to even consider crying. When she managed to eventually swallow it, as she usually did, she took a deep breath, tried one of the many breathing exercises she had been taught, and reached a shaky hand for the door. Bernadetta only left her room when she could find no other excuse not to, and this was one of those times. With eyes already watering with potential tears, she trudged forward through the Garreg Mach grounds- shaky, but with purpose.
Bernadetta wasn’t always her name. What it used to be doesn’t matter. What matters is one day she read of a brave knight in a book with the name Bernadetta. She liked the name. She thought it sounded better than the one her father had decided to call her. Her mother loved it.
“I think it’s beautiful, dear. If you like it, then it’s yours.” Her mother said.
Her father wasn’t happy. He preferred the old name. He preferred not to have a daughter.
“If he’s going to be Bernadetta then he better act like it.”
At least he eventually left her alone.
She ducked and ran around her classmates and the monastery’s halls and corridors, following the light at the end of her tunnel vision, moving almost on instinct to her destination. She had a regular appointment she had to attend.
Skidding to a halt in front of an old oak door, Bernadetta began frantically knocking.
“M-Miss Casagranda? Miss Casagranda? It’s me! It’s-“ her voice caught in her throat. “It’s Bernadetta!”
In the milliseconds it would take Manuela Casagranda to reach the door from the other side of her office, Bernadetta’s thoughts ran quickly and dangerously.
She’s given up. I’m hopeless. She can’t help me anymore. She won’t help me anymore. She changed her mind. I knew it was stupid. It won’t be the same. Something happened. Someone knows. She hates me. They all hate me. I’m just-
Her spiral into panic ended as quickly as it began as the sing-song voice of Garreg Mach’s lead physician called out from the other side of the door.
“Coming!”
The door’s handle turned, and it opened, leaving Bernadetta nervously looking up at the statuesque woman standing in the doorway. Her reflex was to cower. Manuela was taller than her, older, an authority figure- another set of eyes to witness any mistakes.
Manuela, however, just smiled at the nervous wreck at her door.
“Bernadetta! Come in, come in. As usual, make yourself comfortable. And I told you last time you can just call me Manuela.”
She’d be lying if she said her insistence was for Bernadetta’s sense of comfort and not because hearing ‘Miss Casagranda’ made her stomach churn, but it helped her patient feel a little more comfortable to be on a first name basis, so she made sure to encourage it.
“Oh, right. Sorry Mi- I’m sorry. Manuela.” Bernadetta shuffled into the office and sat in one of the empty chairs. She sat perfectly, rigidly upright and proper.
Just as her father had taught her.
“Can I get you anything, dear? Tea, maybe something to eat?” Manuela opened a cabinet and pulled out a small chest of supplies, searching through it for everything Bernadetta usually needed.
Bernadetta declined the snack but accepted the tea. Manuela poured cups for the two of them and sat across from her guest, speaking first as Bernadetta sipped her tea.
“We increased your dose last time. You mentioned feeling nervous about it, but still insisted on it when I offered. How is it working?”
Bernadetta took a long sip and a deeper breath.
“It’s…um…it’s working!” She said. Her voice was cheerful and genuine, even though she looked around the room, anywhere that wasn’t meeting Manuela’s gaze. “I’m really starting to notice a difference. Especially in my- um. Well I- I had to get a new skirt for my uniform. My hips are starting to get- um. They’re getting a little wider.”
Manuela pretended not to notice the blush spreading across Bernadetta’s cheeks. Bernadetta, on the other hand, felt as though every eye on monastery grounds was piercing through the walls to judge her.
“N-N-N-Not that that’s a bad thing or that I wanted this just for that to happen or that it’s weird or that I’m weird or anything I just-“ She began to breathe faster, more shallow, already afraid of what Manuela would think of her.
“Bernadetta, please, it’s ok. It’s normal to be happy about that. A lot of girls like you feel embarrassed getting excited over that, but I assure you its normal to be happy. It’s what you wanted.”
It was exactly what she wanted, and yet she couldn’t help but somehow feel guilty for something.
“Are you sure?
“Of course, dear. Anything else? It should be doing a bit more than just that.”
Thinking of the other morning when she looked at herself in the mirror, Bernadetta couldn’t help but smile a little.
“Y-Yes, actually! I feel, um, softer? Just in general. And I noticed that my uniform is starting to fit a little better. And I didn’t really notice this myself, but Petra said my skin was glowing the other day. It’s also just been helping everything else, really! The other day, Dorothea said my hair looked cute and I-I believed her! Well, I didn’t do much, which I was really worried would make my face look like before all of this, because it’s always been a little messy and- oh no here I go again I’m so sorry!” Bernadetta hid her face in her hands, embarrassed at rambling about herself.
Manuela only grinned from ear to ear.
“How wonderful! It sounds like it’s working! I was more interested in finding out how you felt about yourself. Trust me, it’s plain to see how it’s working on you, dear.” She gave Bernadetta a kind smile. Bernadetta shyly nodded in thanks.
How I felt about myself? Bernadetta sat and thought for a second. She tried not to think about herself, if she were being honest. Thinking about herself meant thinking of all the ways she was vulnerable, that she was weak. She feared anything that moved too suddenly and things that didn’t move at all. She wasn’t strong enough to swing an axe, she wasn’t confident enough to command a horse during training. Her face didn’t feel as soft as the other girls in the Black Eagles. Her shoulders felt too broad. She didn’t have a clue how to do makeup like Dorothea and she wasn’t refined or elegant. She often thought that maybe her father was right. Maybe she wasn’t a good noble lady. Or even good at being a lady at all.
No, She thought. I know I’m not strong or brave. I know I’m different from the others. Maybe I won’t be just like the other girls but I know who I am. I know who I am. My name is Bernadetta von Varley. I’m Bernadetta and my father was wrong.
The concoctions Manuela had cooked up for her may have been helping her body reflect what she saw on the inside, but Bernadetta had known who she truly was long before she was whisked away to Garreg Mach. She felt it long ago, and she still felt it every day. She felt it every day she put on her uniform. She felt it every time Dorothea or Hilda told her she looked cute that day. She felt it every time a member of the staff called her Miss Varley.
Manuela could see the wheels turning in Bernadetta’s head. Her time with Bernadetta as a patient had taught her a lot about the nervous young woman. As troubling as her self-deprecating and manic rambling could be, her silence was a sign of her internal self-destruction. She decided to speak up.
“It’s ok if you don’t feel like talking, Bernadetta. As long as the treatments are working.” Manuela clasped her hands in her lap and felt a pang of sadness, watching this girl break down. She wished she could do more for her. Medicine and music. These were her fortes. She didn’t know how to handle something like this.
But Bernadetta wasn’t breaking down. Not this time.
“No. It’s fine. I-I’m,” A deep breath in, a deep breath out. A shaky smile began to form on her lips. “I’m feeling a lot better lately. Really.”
The quivering smile was replaced with a steady one. A genuine one.
“Every morning I’m waking up and seeing the changes. I’m seeing what I’ve wanted to see since I was little. I spent so long being told who I was supposed to be, before I was brought here. Who I was, how that person should act, who I was supposed to please. But you’re helping me be me. I know I’m scared of a lot of things- and things are really, really scary! Why isn’t everyone more afraid?!” Bernadetta blushed and realized she had been raising her voice. She cleared her throat and brought herself back to focus. “But I-I feel like I can face a lot more of it now. I’m still scared. I’m still not great, but I feel like I can face it all as me now.” Tears began to well in Bernadetta’s eyes. Manuela, too, was feeling herself swept up in Bernadetta’s newfound courage
“Oh no. I-I’m sorry! I was just rambling about- oh no Miss Casagranda I’m-“ Bernadetta’s eyes went wide at the sight of Manuela beginning to cry.
Manuela laughed and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I’m just so happy to hear that from you. All I want as a physician is to help you all however I can. When you first came to me, I never would have thought you’d have been able to look me in the eye, let alone put on a display like that.” She smiled and leaned forward, resting her hand on Bernadetta’s shoulder. “You’re a beautiful young woman, Bernadetta. With or without my help, you’re you and you need to be whatever makes you happy.”
The feeling of someone else touching her set off a panicked reflex in her brain, but this time, Bernadetta rested her shaking hand on Manuela’s and returned her smile.
“Th-thank you. Thank you.”
Manuela stood, Bernadetta doing the same. The two dried their eyes and gathered their things. Manuela gave Bernadetta a bag of this month’s supplies- multiple vials of assorted potions and tinctures, instructions on what to take and when and what they do, and even a few beauty tips scribbled in nigh-illegible handwriting. Bernadetta gave a grateful smile and turned to leave, Manuela reminding her of the date of their next appointment.
As she grabbed the door handle, Bernadetta turned back to Manuela.
“Can I um, ask something?” she said.
“Of course. What is it?” Manuela didn’t even look up as she was straightening up her desk.
“Am I the first student you’ve done this for?”
“Not at all, actually.”
A beat of silence.
“R-really?”
“Really.”
“I- …You wouldn’t, you wouldn’t maybe uh-“Bernadetta’s voice began to crack. She wanted to know, but would it be right to ask?
“I’m afraid that’s only between the doctor and her patient, sweetie.” Manuela couldn’t help but consider telling her who it was. She wanted to let her know she wasn’t alone, but that wasn’t her information to spread. He could tell her when he was ready.
“Right. Sorry. Right. Um. Thank you a-again! See you later!”
Bernadetta hurried out of Manuela’s office, running through the halls only to come to a sudden halt by a window. Normally, her legs wouldn’t have stopped moving until she was back in her room, but today, she stopped and caught her reflection in the window. Her face was soft, her hair fluffy and pretty. The light behind her eyes that once threatened to die out had returned, bright and shining. She saw the young woman she’d dreamed of being when she was younger, ever since she chose the name Bernadetta. With a nervous glance in every direction, just to make sure no one was watching, Bernadetta twirled, watching her skirt twirl with her. She laughed and grinned and fought back tears of satisfaction.
This was her. And she was who she was.
Miss Bernadetta von Varely.