Work Text:
As a student Mercedes suffered from an abundance of free time. In Garland Moon she pilfered whatever white roses she could from the greenhouse and Monastery gardens and stole Annie away from her studies and Ingrid away from the stables. Together they sat on a blanket amid the sweet perfumed petals and the tough ends of stems, nibbling at the biscuits Mercedes baked for the occasion (or rather to bribe Ingrid, who could never let any food go to waste) while she showed them how to dethorn the stems like Dedue taught her when she bumped into him at the greenhouse.
It was his hands, as deft with a pair of shears in the greenhouse as they were with an ax on the training grounds, that Mercedes thought of while she wove her last crown. Small scars and tough calluses littered his fingertips and palms, and he never flinched at the scrape of a thorn like Mercedes and Annie and (to a lesser extent) Ingrid did. It made her a little sad for a reason she couldn’t name, and though her fingers were cracked and bleeding from bending so many rose stems into submission, she put extra care into the one she planned to gift to Dedue.
Annie never did tell Mercedes for whom she intended either of the two crowns (other than the one she gave to her) she wove, and Ingrid, who tried in vain to talk her out of including her before she heard about the biscuits needing someone to eat them, spent half their time turning her single clumsy crown in her hands with a forlorn frown upon her face. Despite that it made for a pleasant day, and Mercedes smiled as she bid them good bye (and good luck in their gifting) before taking her handiwork.
Well, and giving it. One for Annie, her best friend, who flushed a pretty pink but wasted no time offering the crown she made her in exchange.
One for Ingrid, who stumbled over her words as she thanked her, and Mercedes reassuring her her company was the only thanks she needed.
One for Dimitri, whose eyes widened with surprise before he expressed his own gratitude, and Mercedes didn’t have it in her to tell him how grateful she was to see something other than a deep sadness in his eyes.
One for Ashe, a haunt of the cathedral worse than her of late. He blushed worse than Annette, and for a heartbeat looked just like the happy and overeager (if shy) classmate she met in Great Tree Moon, and Mercedes spared a few moments longer praying to the goddess for Lord Lonato’s soul and for Ashe’s fortitude.
One for Felix, who tossed it back to her and told her she’d wasted her time, who refused to accept it even after she insisted she gave one to everyone in their class. But she didn’t force him, out of the guilt tugging at her for their last disastrous conversation (though she couldn’t help thinking of Emile, to whom she couldn’t give a crown).
(Later she’ll spy him in a secluded corner near the greenhouse, staring at a garland in his hands. She may even recognize its handiwork.)
One for Sylvain, who of course tried to read more into it than was there at first even when she insisted it was a birthday present. He laughed in that way that didn’t reach his eyes after he bent his head to allow her to nestle the crown on his hair, and Mercedes wondered if it would’ve been better if she hadn’t bothered.
One for the professor, who stared at his with a blank yet bewildered expression before resting it on his head, before he thanked Mercedes without inflection and invited her for a delayed birthday tea.
And the last for Dedue. She found him in the kitchens, and while trepidation filled her when she approached a couple of their classmates (Dimitri and Felix, namely), it was nothing to the sudden skip in her heartbeat when she spotted him stoking the fire in the giant hearth.
“Dedue,” Mercedes said, her voice low, to get his attention.
When he turned to regard her his eyes immediately drifted to the white rose crown in her hands. “Mercedes,” he greeted her, his lips quirking into the slightest smile. “I was not aware we shared kitchen duty today.”
“Oh, no,” she said with a sheepish smile. “I would love to help you, of course, but I came with this.” She swallowed her silly nerves and raised the crown.
Dedue blinked several times before he said, “Oh, I...thank you, Mercedes. You needn’t have troubled yourself for me.”
“It was no trouble!” she insisted. “Here”—she raised the crown—“won’t you let me put it on you?”
Something in her chest warmed when he bowed his head and admitted, “The Garland Moon tradition is not a Duscur one. I wouldn’t have minded if you didn’t give me one as you did the others.”
Mercedes rested the crown on his head, the rose petals almost as stark a white as his hair, before gently smacking his shoulder. “Oh, please, if not for you I wouldn’t have been able to make one for everyone.”
Dedue smiled, and even in the kitchen’s low light she spied the hint of a blush darkening his cheeks. He blushed so easily when embarrassed or flattered, though it was hard to spot, and Mercedes couldn’t help but find it charming and sweet how it betrayed how...young he was.
Younger than her, yet he’d suffered so much more.
“I worry you took on too much,” Dedue said then.
“Hmm?” Mercedes’ eyes widened in confusion. “I had time,” she assured him, “and it was quite fun too.”
“No, not for that.” His large hand engulfed hers, his other palm sliding gently over the cuts that hadn’t completely healed.
Now it was her turn to flush, but she tried to cover it with a giggle. “Oh, that’s nothing,” she said. “It would’ve been so much worse if I hadn’t dethorned the stems.”
Dedue’s brow furrowed in the most minute expression of worry she’d ever witnessed. His concern warmed her more than she wanted to admit, so she turned her hand in his and squeezed his fingers. “If it makes you feel better, Dedue,” she said, “I’ll pay a visit to Professor Manuela in the infirmary.”
“Please do, Mercedes,” he said. “Once I’m finished here I’ll escort you.”
“Oh, you don’t need to—“
“I insist,” Dedue cut her off, and that in and of itself surprised her more than anything. “It’s thanks for the crown.”
Mercedes smiled and joined him at the hearth. “All right,” she said. “Then I’ll help you in here so the work goes faster. I do so enjoy your company too.” She coughed behind a hand as she reached for a wooden spoon to stir the pot and hoped the steam rising from it allowed for a convenient excuse for the pink no doubt coloring her face.
And here she thought she’d outgrown such little fancies long before she entered the Officers’ Academy.
But her heart could fixate on far worse than a kind and dependable young man like Dedue.