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She'd expected to hurt after having her crests removed. Hanneman and Linhardt had told her she'd be unconscious for the whole thing, but it was still a tricky procedure and because of her frail health they planned to work as slowly as possible. Her stomach felt full of bats as they took her into the room and had her breathe in the sleep-inducing aromatics, and the last thing she felt was Hanneman squeezing her hand.
But right now, Lysithea felt more groggy than anything. A little sore and stiff from sleeping so long, but no pain from where they'd removed the crests.
"It's over. Everything went well," her mother was saying. "You'll need to stay in bed for a few days so you can heal, but there's no sign of either crest present anymore." Her vision was clearing, and she could see tears streaking her mother's cheeks. "My sweet child, my only surviving daughter..."
"Mother, please." Lysithea blinked back her own tears, but didn't protest as her mother reached down to hug her. Years she'd spent trying to be so grown up, insisting she wasn't a child, thinking she could do everything on her own until she collapsed, not even letting her own friends take care of her when she knew even teases like Claude just wanted to help her because they cared. So many years wasted, trying to grow up before she died.
Right now, she was too tired to question what she intended to do with the sudden decades added to her lifespan. So she let her mother hug her, cry over her, feed her some broth Linhardt had prepared, and tuck her in before she fell back into a dreamless sleep.
You have time. After so many years, you finally have time to think about your life.
"Lysithea?" Linhardt's voice greeted her as she awakened the next morning. "You have a visitor. Actually, from the looks of things he's been waiting outside the infirmary since last night."
"I wanted to make sure I got to see her before everyone else decided to show up!" protested a familiar and welcome voice, and Lysithea's stomach fluttered with anticipation and nervousness. She hadn't seen Cyril since just after the war, when she'd told him about the procedure and how she'd be gone a while. He'd understood, of course, but he'd looked so worried and upset even as she told him she'd want to see him as soon as possible after it was done.
She was happy he'd remembered, of course, but she hadn't expected him to come literally the day after. She'd hoped by the time she saw him again she'd be out of bed and back in her usual clothes, not in a frumpy gray nightgown with her hair mussed and her eyes still puffy from sleep.
But the door opened, Linhardt let Cyril in, and the flush of his cheeks dried up all her self-consciousness.
"You're okay."
"I told you I would be," she said gently. "Professor Hanneman and Linhardt made sure of it. They wouldn't even try anything until they knew the procedure was safe." Linhardt smiled.
"I'll leave you two alone." He closed the door as he left, and Lysithea sat up as much as she could manage, scooting over to make room for him on her bed. Cyril's blush deepened.
"A-are you sure this is..." Lysithea nodded.
"Just sit down, okay? I've missed you, even if all we can really do is talk...I want to know how you've been lately, what you've been up to outside the letter you sent." She smiled. "By the way, it looks like you've gotten more comfortable with writing and spelling." Cyril rubbed the back of his neck as he sat down.
"Catherine had to help me with most of it. Actually, I had to re-write it twice because I kept spelling things wrong," he said. "But other than that everything's fine. Mostly. I mean, we all still miss Lady Rhea a lot, and Byleth's still trying to get used to running the church." Lysithea nodded sadly; Lady Rhea had died of her wounds not long after the war ended, she remembered holding Cyril's hand as he tried not to cry when Byleth gave them the news.
"I can imagine. I always hoped she'd pull through after all that, but..." But Lady Rhea had really been a few thousand years old, if Lysithea remembered correctly, and she'd exhausted her strength protecting them when Shambala collapsed. But she was important to him, and he didn't deserve the pain of losing family...
He put his hand on hers, smiling a little.
"It's okay. We're all okay now, it's hard but we're getting through it!" he said. "Byleth and Raphael are taking care of everything and all of us, and Raphael even re-built the cathedral!" Lysithea stifled a giggle.
"Really?"
"Well, more like picked up all the big pieces of rubble and carried the new planks and bricks in," Cyril laughed. "But he was still a big help! Mercedes and Sylvain have been helping, too, House Gautier's been really generous. And Claude's sent us supplies from Almyra, Hilda sent us some tapestries she made..."
He kept going, updating her on everything their comrades and her classmates had been up to. Weddings, children, travels, new friendships, reconstruction, memorials. Lysithea hadn't realized just how much she'd missed everyone, even their more tiresome antics, and she made a note to visit whoever she could as soon as she was ready.
"...and Catherine and Shamir are getting married next month!" Cyril finished. "Actually, that last thing's another reason I wanted to come so soon. I've got something I wanna ask you before I get too scared to." Lysithea blinked, her cheeks flushing again.
"Cyril?"
"I-I know we're still kind of young and it's really soon, but...when things settle down even more, I..." He stammered, clutching her hand and lacing their fingers together. "Would you marry me, Lysithea? I don't have a ring for you yet, and I know you need time to recover, but I really love you and you make me happier than anything, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you!"
The tears she'd been holding back since last night spilled over, even as she burst out laughing.
"Yes!" she squealed before he could ask if she was okay. "Yes, yes, a thousand times I will!" They fell into a clumsy embrace, laughing and crying. The rest of our lives! Five little words had never sounded so sweet to her. That's something I've got now, and I want to give all of those years to him!
"Great! I still don't have the gold to get you a good ring, but Byleth wants to make me a new bow instructor at the Academy, and she's gonna make sure we all get paid really well," Cyril said, looking up and wiping away his tears. Lysithea smiled, shaking her head.
"I don't care if the only ring you can give me is made of carved wood. As long as it's from you, I'll cherish it."
"I know, but still, I wanna give you the best I can," he said.
"You're the best." She shifted to nestle against his shoulder, blinking away the last of her own tears. "You've made me the bappiest woman in Fodlan!" Cyril laughed softly, brushing his fingers through her still-mussed hair. He could spell the word now, but she'd never forget that first clumsy, adorable love letter he'd given her.
"Just like you've made me the bappiest man."