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Hear ye, hear ye, a proclamation from the Margraviate of Edmund:
It saddened me to learn of the unexpected deaths of my dear cousin and his beloved wife. I have taken it upon myself to arrange their funerary services and ensure that their lives are celebrated just as much as their deaths are mourned. I am also arranging to have their only child taken into my care, as was requested in my cousin's will. As someone who has been unable to have children of my own, I am happy to welcome a new son into my family, even if it is under unfortunate circumstances. I will see to it that he lives a long and prosperous life.
Long live the House of Edmund
"Hey, you're looking pretty glum!"
Marianne had only been at Garreg Mach Monastery for a few days, and already someone had failed to recognize her unspoken signals that she did not particularly care to be talked to. She thought they had been obvious, and they had worked so far. Her life was stressful enough, and she was still getting used to this new place, used to being seen by so many other people, used to--
"Hello? If I'm trying to cheer you up the least you could do is notice I'm here!" She was still talking, it seemed. Marianne finally turned to look at her. She had long pigtails of pink hair that swayed slightly in the wind. She smiled widely, although Marianne couldn't tell whether or not it was a sincere smile. She spoke again when she and Marianne locked eyes for the first time. "There you are! I wanted to introduce myself." She held her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels, looking for all the world as if she were the star of it. "My name's Hilda. What's yours?"
There was a reflex that Marianne refused to obey. Instead, she took a deep breath and made her declaration in a soft voice. "Marianne." It was not her first time saying it aloud, but it was her first time saying it to another person. It was different, far different, a world of difference. Saying it aloud had been nice, but there was something about this introduction that had given her enough hope to at least make it to tomorrow.
"Marianne!" the girl repeated. By the gods, it sounded like music to hear someone else say it. That was enough to get Marianne through the next week, for sure. "That's a pretty name." Goodness, that may have been enough to get her through a month, now. This was the very first time she had spoken with someone at the Monastery and it was already going so well. The girl spoke again. "My name's Hilda. It's a pleasure to meet you, Marianne!"
The next few weeks were a whirlwind. As blissful as that first conversation had gone, Hilda was not exactly the type of person that Marianne liked to spend time with. In fact, there were no types of people that Marianne liked to spend time with. Her best days at the Monastery were those spent with the animals, from the little birds that would perch on low-hanging tree branches in the courtyard to the horses in the stable that even Marianne could tell loved her for who she was. Hilda, on the other hand, was boisterous, a bit self-absorbed, and she talked so much. Some days, it was nice to have something that could drown out the noise in Marianne's head. Other days, when Hilda was gossiping about the noble students at the Monastery, were unbearable.
Regardless, the two forged something resembling a friendship. It was the first friendship that Marianne could remember having, at least with another person. It even quickly escalated to the point where Hilda wanted to have a sleepover. When Hilda initially asked, Marianne responded that she needed some time to think about it, and immediately returned to her room. She opened the door, saw the state it was in, and resolved never to let another living soul pass through that doorway. Hilda was as girly as girly could be, at least to Marianne. Marianne did not want Hilda to see her room. It did not feel like a girl's room.
Hilda eventually suggested that she host the sleepover herself. Marianne was less anxious about that prospect, and she was shocked when Hilda opened the door to reveal a room in a very similar state of disorder.
"Sorry for the mess," Hilda had said with a smile. "I was gonna clean up but I didn't feel like it. I felt like you wouldn't judge me." That night, Marianne listened to Hilda gab about Claude and Lorenz for two hours and then fell asleep.
Okay, so maybe it'd be fine if Hilda saw Marianne's room. She did her best to make her room look presentable, but she only made it as far as putting one book away before all energy left her and she ended up staring into space for the next few hours, at least until she heard Hilda's telltale knock at her door. Marianne opened it and there Hilda was, positively radiant, already in her pajamas, and before she knew it Hilda was hugging her.
"Thanks for inviting me!"
In almost no time, Hilda was snooping around Marianne's room. It wasn't in any malicious way, or else Marianne would have probably stopped her or said something. No, Marianne thought, Hilda was kind of like a cat sniffing new surroundings for the first time. Marianne was in the middle of thinking about other ways in which Hilda was like a cat when she realized that she was about to open her closet. "Hilda, I don't," Marianne began, but it was too late.
There wasn't anything incriminating in there. In fact, there wasn't much of anything at all. Hilda audibly gasped when she saw it. "Marianne!" she said as if she had just discovered that Marianne hadn't eaten all day (it had happened once or twice). Hilda's hands were on her hips. "Where is your wardrobe?"
What was Marianne supposed to say? That the clothes she left behind at House Edmund had never felt quite right? That she actually enjoyed the restrictions of the Monastery's dress code, only because they were kind enough to provide her with the correct uniform? That she had never been clothes shopping once in her life and no idea how to start?
The silence must have gone on for a bit longer than she noticed, because Hilda filled it. "Whatever. It doesn't matter. This weekend, I am taking you shopping!" Hilda swung around and gave that wide smile that Marianne had learned was indeed sincere, at least whenever it was Marianne she was smiling at. "We are gonna do you up right, girl!"
There were students at the Academy who wondered more loudly than they should how two people as different as Hilda and Marianne had gotten so close so quickly. If only they could have seen the moments like this, when all it took was Hilda's words to make Marianne feel as if her life was one worth living.
That weekend, Marianne left the Monastery walls for the first time since her arrival. Hilda, according to Hilda, knew all the best tailors. When they arrived at the first of many planned stops, the tailor asked for Marianne's measurements to ensure a good fit. Marianne of course didn't know such a thing off the top of her head, and she wasn't exactly willing to let a stranger examine her like a museum exhibit.
One thing that Hilda prided herself on was how well she knew those she called her friends. The look on Marianne's face after getting asked that question was all she needed. "Actually, she's never had them done before. Do you mind if I take them myself in the fitting room?" She reached out and took Marianne's hand, squeezing it gently. "My friend is a bit shy."
It wasn't an issue at all, although even with just the two of them in that fitting room, Marianne still felt very shy. In fact, she felt incredibly shy, more shier than she could ever remember feeling. She felt blood rushing to her face, and she missed the feeling of HIlda's hand holding her own. Meekly, she stood in front of Hilda as Hilda fiddled with a roll of measuring tape.
"Hilda, we don't have to do this," she said, worrying that somehow her measurements would add up to Hilda never wanting to see her again.
"Nonsense," Hilda replied. "You have a lovely figure and absolutely nothing to worry about. Now hold out your arms like this."
And just like that, one by one, Hilda took Marianne's measurements. Oddly, it was one of the most affirming things Marianne could ever remember. She had expected Hilda to comment on everything, but she went about her work diligently and silently. There was an ache in Marianne's heart that wanted Hilda to say more things about her "lovely figure," but this situation was going well enough as is. Marianne couldn't ask for more.
When they were done, Hilda led Marianne out and brought her to a display of several different patterns of fabrics. She pointed at one that was a mix of light and dark blue, with tinges of gold. "I like this one a lot! I think it would go amazing with your hair." Marianne trusted Hilda's judgment (not to mention she actually liked the pattern quite a bit herself) and selected that for her outfit, which would be available for pickup in a few weeks.
"There!" Hilda exclaimed as they returned to Marianne's room for the night. "We got you started, at least."
"Thank you, Hilda." Marianne had been working on expressing her gratitude more often. "Today was lovely."
"We're not done yet!" Hilda responded, going through her bag and taking out a small box of beads and other odds and ends. "You need to accessorize, too. Here, pick some colors you like," she said, scooting the box towards Marianne. "I'm going to make you a bracelet!"
Marianne picked out a similar palette of blues as the pattern she had chosen earlier, but she also chose a pink that evoked Hilda's bright hair. A mischievous grin alighted on Hilda's face.
"Oh, so you want me to mix the pinks and blues, huh?" she asked conspiratorially. "Are you trying to tell me something, Marianne?"
Marianne's face felt hot again. Was she trying to tell Hilda something? Did she actually feel that strongly about her? Could anyone ever feel that strongly about Marianne?
"Marianne." Hilda was leaning in really close. "You're blushing."
"Hilda, I..."
A finger to Marianne's lips shushed her for the moment. Her eyes were locked with Hilda's again, and for a split second it felt as if they were meeting each other for the first time once more. Hilda's eyes were gentle and understanding. Marianne's were pleading. Is this something you want, Hilda's eyes asked. Yes, Marianne's eyes replied, yes, this is something I want very badly.
They shared a kiss, one that Marianne had found herself fantasizing about the past few weeks, one that was even better than she had imagined even in her wildest dreams.
Hilda was the one to break it off. "Okay, as much as I want to do that forever, I am making you this bracelet before we fall asleep." Her eyes suddenly lit up. "Ooh! Follow along with me and you can make me a matching one that I can wear, too! Then we can conk out. Tomorrow morning, I really want to do your makeup. Your eyelashes are gorgeous, and they'll look even better with some mascara!" She blushed slightly. "We can kiss again, too, maybe."
Marianne nodded, a smile on her own face. She took some of the tools from Hilda's kit and started to mimic Hilda's handiwork.
The Goddess had dealt her a difficult hand, but for the first time in her life Marianne felt as if she were making the most out of it.