Archive of Our Own

“Mommie, the egg’s gonna burn!”

Mercedes snaps to attention at that call and has one second to take the skillet away from the oven after she realizes that yes, the scrambled eggs she usually makes as part of little Ariel’s dinner is just shy of burning. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” she turns away from the oven and smiles, her heart swelling with a mixture of pride and love at the vision of the child hanging around the kitchen, waiting for their food to be delivered. 

It is a delight to be called a mother and to have become one as well, to such an adorable kid too. They are around six, age actually uncertain since they were abandoned close to the church a few years ago in the dead of a cold winter night, and they didn’t know any numbers back then. Their ginger hair is tousled, cropped around the neck as per their request, and their eyes are a glinting emerald tone that spell disaster, mischief and curiosity wherever they settle on. 

There is nothing she loves more than pampering them, revelling in the fact she and her partners were able to easily adopt them and start their lives as mothers in that year. Sure, so they do still tend to them a bit too much at times, being overprotective and so on, but she knows the three will get the hang of it eventually. 

And get to raise a very nice kid, no gender pronouns needed, thank you very much.

As Mercie takes a plate from the cupboard and pours the eggs over it, then searches for cutlery that Ariel can use, she remembers how different that moment in time is to the day when she, Annette and a more skittish Marianne started talking about expanding their little family, making their home a livelier one.

Garreg Mach City, two years ago

Mercedes was the last one to join her partners in the bigger bed they had recently gotten at a sale, one that fit snugly in the small bedroom with its shelves and wardrobes to the left and right of the mattress. Nevertheless, they had taken some measures and done some research in order to find a better place for them to sleep together and not wake up a tad cramped from being too close to each other.

Something that surely was enjoyable in fall and winter, but would become extra and annoying when summer eventually rolled around.

“Funny how it seems that the house is kind of empty already, right?” Annie inquired, scooting over so Mercedes could take a seat between her and Marianne. Both had picked up their books from the white, plastic bedside table, which also had a lamp for nighttime reading that was currently turned off since the room was being lit up by the white bulb over their heads anyways. 

“Oh absolutely, I miss that little one already and it hasn’t even been what, two hours?” Mercedes agreed, plopping down and placing one hand on each of her partners. “I thought we wouldn’t survive it at first but wow, we handled that pretty well for first timers.”

“Mhm, but I suppose it helped that he was a very sweet boy, too,” Marianne added, eyes never leaving the book in front of her, keeping it glued to her face. 

Mercedes didn’t miss that small fact, or how it seemed like Mari was almost hiding, but decided to keep that information for later. “No, you were really good with him, though.”

“I think the right thing to say is that he was half in love with Mari, to be honest,” Annette smirked, draping herself over Mercie’s lap so she could better reach her other partner. “Not that I blame him.”

“Oh hush, don’t you start with that,” the vet replied, a hand automatically weaving itself on Annette’s rich ginger hair, a habit she had developed over the months they had already been together. One that could translate either to her being comfortable in a situation or seeking comfort through a gesture that could ground her. 

Mercie knew enough by then to understand which one it was this time,  deciding to back away from the subject at first and see if her hunch was right. “I don’t know if I’m missing him or his cat more, though.” 

They had been asked to take care of a child for a friend of theirs who would need to be away from Garreg Mach for a few days. Only, the seven-year-old had come accompanied with a kitty as well, a playful and curious little one that was a perfect companion to the kid. The three had been more than happy to help, watching over both for the last three days, and now were finding the house a tad too quiet after the ruckus of activity that it had been earlier, the weight of the cat in the edge of the bed already being missed as well.

That last part, the one that was the easiest to address at the time, was what Mercedes took to start that conversation and see how her partners would respond to something that had been on her mind for the last few days. 

“You know, as nice as it is to take care of other people’s pets when they travel, I think we should get one of our own,” she commented in a matter-of-fact way, even though her heart thudded a bit faster at voicing it, speaking about something she had desired for a while. 

“Oh, we should!” Annette piped in, moving around the slightest in order to better look at both of her partners, book long forgotten and laid to rest in front of Mercedes’s crossed legs. “Mari, do you have some idea of where to adopt? If uh, if you’re ok with it, of course,” she added, once she realized the vet had yet to say something. 

 “We really should,” Marianne answered a second later, mind far afield, beaming happily at the thought of being part of that, of being included in the “we” and on how her opinion was asked for instead of the decision simply being made between the two. 

This had been a fear of hers ever since she started dating them. It was valid, since Annette and Mercedes had been a couple for years and she was just the newcomer, at least in her mind. Whenever the girls treated her with that level of respect, as if she were as much an important part of the relationship as they were, she was slightly overwhelmed with joy.

After all, she had never thought she would be in a romantic relationship to begin with. The one person she had felt connected to had been her lawyer's daughter, her first close friend before Hilda, but they hadn’t been interested in each other and simply bonded through trauma and pain, all things considered. That didn’t make the connection any less special, but it hadn't turned into dating, either. 

“The café I work at has an adoption center,” she went on once the feelings fluttering in her chest subsided. “So if you would like, we can see if any of the cats in there strike our fancy. There are some new ones, but a few of the old residents are just too cute as well.”

“Ah that’s great! We really, really should go there one day after your shift and take a look, yeah. It’d be nice to have a little one at home.” Annette hummed, moving to place her legs on Mercedes’s lap and her head on Marianne’s, a hand caressing the vet’s.

They were silent for a bit, processing the idea and how nice it was that they had gotten to an easy agreement on that. However, Mercie was sure it wouldn’t be that easy to go on with her request, but she decided if there was ever a good time to make it, it would be then.

“Well, I know this would be a tougher decision and all but… how do you feel about having a little one as in, a little human being at home?” She stopped and waited, gave them time to think about it as two pairs of shocked eyes met her calm blue ones. “It’s sudden, I know, but I’ve been working with some orphans as of recent and I couldn’t help but think about it.”

Silence followed her statement; at the most it was acquiesced with nods as the other two shifted over the royal blue duvet, not entirely uncomfortable but nonetheless pensive. It wasn’t an easy issue, one that couldn't be decided in a second anyways - having a child around would be a great responsibility.

“I mean, I don’t see why we shouldn’t,” Annette was the first to speak, slowly rolling away from both so she could sit up and look at them in the eyes. “I’ve never thought about being a mother myself, but I don’t feel bad about it when I see both of you in the picture as well.”

“Yeah, knowing it won’t be just me taking care of a child makes me feel safe and supported, too. Raising kids isn’t an easy task, but I’m sure we could welcome a little one into our home and offer them all the love and care in the world if we feel like it,” Mercedes nodded, though she was very aware of someone who was still very quiet about the matter at hands. That was why she turned to their other partner and uttered: “Mari, honey? You are also very welcome to share your thoughts, ok? And it’s alright if you don’t agree with us or something.”

Marianne beamed at that, at the care she could hear ebbing from those words and in the way she was being touched too, Mercedes’s hand curled on her forearm and Annette’s now on her back, squeezing. She knew she was safe with them, that in their presence there was nothing but a very accepting and loving space, one in which she was respected and more than just allowed to be herself. Rather than quelling her thoughts and expressions of who she was, they had always supported and encouraged her to speak up, to remain silent when she wanted to, to not be so present and carve time for herself if needed. They were there, helping her in each step of the way, in the same form they had done when they were kids.

Yet words did fail her in that specific moment in time, remaining lodged in her mind and throat no matter how much she longed for them to be revealed. She knew Annie and Mercie would more than likely understand and never force her, but a lifetime spent being quiet about that particular matter - and about certain parts of her that no one had ever seen - made opening up extremely difficult. 

The fear of being rejected by her two partners, the two people who mattered a lot to her and she held dear in her heart, overrode logic and instead caused her to shut down. She closed her eyes firmly against it, against all of it, and turned to face the wall. Memories reared their ugly heads, made uglier as time went by and she better understood what had been done to her, how she had been manipulated by those who were meant to help and guide her in this world, a world she had been too young to navigate on her own. 

Shaking her head to ward it off from those recollections, she spoke in a small voice while facing mostly the window, unable to look at either of them in the eye. “Is it ok if I don’t talk about it now? I will, I really want to, but I- I can’t right now.”

A second after those words had been uttered, Marianne braced herself against derisive laughter, against screams and accusations about her being weak, being unfitting and keeping them away from the future - their future, the one they had envisioned and she had no right denying them. That there was something wrong with her and she would get nowhere in life with that type of attitude to begin with. All things she has either heard from others thousands of times or thought about on her own just as often.

That was why she actually gasped in surprise once she heard sounds of fabric shifting, felt motion as the other two wiggled, and heard Mercedes ask in a small voice, a tad closer to her: “Mari, dear, can I hug you?”

The moment she nodded, still keeping her back to both girls, two arms surrounded her waist and pulled her closer, only for a smaller hand to start playing with her soft blue hair. 

“Of course it’s ok,” Annette whispered. “Take your time and please, don't force yourself to do anything you don’t feel ready to.” She took hold of Marianne’s hand and brought it closer to her lips, kissing the knuckles and squeezing it next.

“We’re here for you. We’ve always been and always will be here for you,” Mercedes added, voice as sweet and soothing as when they were all kids and she was calming down either of the younger girls. 

Marianne hated how small instances like that could and sometimes would bring the past back to the front of her mind, mingling it with the present to the point that sometimes it was hard to say which was which. It was awful how strongly those recollections would hit her, even more so in moments such as these that were supposed to be kind.

She also knew that both Annie and Mercie had a right to hear about what had happened to her all those years ago, but the unease relating to the consequences of telling them always won in the end. Even though they had told her about their own trials and tribulations during that time they had spent apart, a crippling fear would take hold of Mari whenever she entertained the thought of doing the same, of confiding in them.

The vet understood enough to at least have a notion on why that occurred, what had kept her voice shut and silenced no matter how many times she had been offered a chance to speak. The root of it all was the fact that she had always been told to keep quiet and pretend nothing was wrong, nothing out of the ordinary was happening. That message had been imprinted on her mind both by her actual family and her foster one later on - it was no wonder she had a tough time trying to talk about her own emotions even if it felt natural for her to inquire on other people’s, then do the best to help them out.

It was one thing to aid a friend in need, someone that needed a shoulder to cry on, than to adopt a child, though. Caring for a kid meant doing her best to make sure they got good role models for when they grew up and were out in the world, while tending to their physical, emotional and intellectual needs. And that was something Mari wasn’t sure if she was ready to do at that point in her life. 

They let the issue go for that night and decided it would be better for them to comfort and distract each other instead. Eventually they shifted positions so Marianne found herself in the middle of the other two, being showered with love and affection. A part of her protested it, saying she had no right to be there and should leave before she could bring her partners down. She winced at that thought but didn’t voice it, though the other women had learned enough about her body language to notice it, to understand she was silently suffering, and shushed her worries all the same by whispering affirmations and punctuating them with pecks. 

And so that particular matter was silenced for some days, to the point that Mari even started feeling guilty about it, as if she had been the one to suppress a valid, very necessary discussion in their relationship. Not that her partners ever blamed her for it - or said a word about kids or even pets to begin with, but that didn’t stop her thoughts from going in that direction anyways. 

She didn’t feel comfortable bringing that up again either, so in a sense she just went on with her life. The thing was, she started burying herself in work even more than usual or necessary in order to avoid going home early and meeting either Mercedes or Annette for too long. Since their jobs also got hectic in that particular week, it was one in which they barely saw each other and lamented it through group chat, though Mari was indeed a tad more relieved that it was the case. 

In the end she was left wondering if they would ever discuss the matter again, to tell the truth. Maybe they wouldn’t, not for a longer time anyways, if it weren’t for them going out on that particular Sunday for one of their favorite pastimes: strolling through one park or another.

It was a beautiful afternoon, the crisp autumn air that caressing them a prelude to winter, the sun barely managing to warm them up. Garreg Mach City had several parks around, pretty much one in each neighborhood, and in order to not get bored with the same setting the three took turns finding different ones to explore. On that day they had chosen the one closest to Marianne’s place, as they had spent a very calm weekend there and it felt fitting for them to end it with a leisure walk.

However, no matter how much Mercie and Annie tried sticking to their usual routines in order to soothe Marianne and make her relax after that argument, they’d easily sensed her distress through the entire week. That was why meandering around had seemed like even more of a good idea, especially if it was that close to her place and would be a welcome change of scenery. 

At first it really was, the beautiful gardens sprawling around the park on both sides of the main trail, or the tall trees which had already turned red and were shedding their leaves. There were no birds flapping their wings or singing due to the weather, but a few cats were loitering around, napping on wooden benches scattered through the park or near people that had sat down on the grass to read. 

It was indeed a stunning place, a safe haven from the greyness and too much concrete around the city per se. It had small, circular wooden buildings painted in yellow and silver spread around the corners for libraries, restaurants, small convenience stores and a resting center with chairs and sofas for people to huddle in when it rained. 

The ground, mostly soil with patches of grass or the occasional polished rock, offered a stable support that allowed Mari to root her thoughts for the first time in a few days. Thus she relaxed, felt confident enough to walk hand in hand with her two partners and squeeze their fingers here and there, a gentle beam on her face.

It was nice to admire that view for a few minutes, to get out of her head and realize how amazing the world could be. The only problem came when she actually noticed one too many families had decided to come to the park as well on that day. 

The three women were making their way through a very nice, pretty trail, one that wove its way between tall trees, so they were surrounded by dark browns, greens and reds of the fall vegetation as well as the silver of the stony rocks underneath their feet. It was a narrow path that barely allowed them to walk side by side, so they got closer together and somehow managed to do just so, which was good since it had gotten even colder amidst so many trees, and the shared warmth was more than welcome. 

At first they had been the only ones there, or so it had seemed. The moment they turned around to look at the sides of the trail, they saw several families enjoying picnics sitting over checkered towels, eating together or playing around. Some parents watched their kids darting around and squeaking in delight, throwing balls and other toys to their siblings. Others were reading with one or two children nestled in their laps, dozing off. 

No matter the setting, they looked so peaceful and comfortable that it tore at Marianne’s heart. Even more so since she knew Mercedes and Annette were gawking at those scenes, those slices of life, of weekends spent with little ones with small smiles on their faces. Again nothing was said, but that silence was louder than whatever words which were going through Mari’s head and heart.

At a point it became just too much. Memories engulfed Marianne, not only ones that related to the conversation they had had in the beginning of the week, but those of her past. She stopped walking and closed her eyes, trying to keep those things away from her and failing altogether. 

“Mari, honey, what is wrong?” Mercedes whispered, squeezing her arm and attempting to put some distance between their bodies in case she needed it.

They had yet to see Marianne having a complete breakdown, but both Mercie and Annie had spotted some signs of it during the time they had been together. Even more so on these last few days - and they had a really good idea of the reason behind it, not that it would take a genius to understand that one either. 

“Do you want to take a seat, dear?” Annette suggested, wincing when she saw some tears on Marianne’s face. They had been trying so hard not to pressure her into anything, anything at all, especially since there was no need for it to begin with. A bout of her own anxiety rose at her chest, making her heart beat in double speed, at the thought that she had hurt the vet even if she had done her best not to.

Once Mari answered with a nod, they took a better hold of her arms and cautiously ushered her away, then eased her to sit down on a bench facing the trail they had been in before doing the same. They kept their hands on hers, caressing and waiting for her breathing to come back to a less frantic pace than the one it was currently at. It startled Mercie and Annie to see their usually cool, collected partner in such a state, but deep inside they had known something like that was coming. 

Eventually Marianne looked up from the rocky ground in front of her, once her heart wasn’t hurting as much. She quickly glanced at both of them and grimaced at how concerned they were, how their irises burned with the sentiment and silent questions that were more than likely on the tip of their tongues - not that any word was uttered, out of respect for Mari.

“I am so sorry,” the vet mumbled at last, her voice faltering as much as her thoughts struggled with the issues at hand.

“No, please don’t. There’s nothing for you to apologize for,” Mercedes shook her head, using her thumb to gently catch a lazy tear that was running down Mari’s cheek. “Do you want to talk about what’s on your mind, though? We’d be more than happy to listen and help you if we can.”

“I- I guess you should know this, regardless of me wanting to talk about it or not.” She took a deep breath, the first in the last ten minutes or so, and went on. “It has to do with what happened to me back then, why I stopped going to church.” She didn’t miss how their postures changed, how they turned to completely face her. “And hm… why I am so reticent on us getting a kid, too.”

Annette nodded; she had wondered if both things weren’t related in some way, as Mari had reacted in similar forms when both issues were mentioned. “You don’t have to force yourself to do anything, ok?”

“Thank you, truly,” Marianne beamed for a small second, though it evaporated as fast as it had come to her lips. “But I might have to, or else you’ll never get to know. And I don’t want to be the one to put a stop on your dreams of having children and expanding the family.”

Mercedes squeezed her hands, frowning. “Sweetheart, that’s not how we think of you. Please don’t judge yourself like that.” She stared for a second and considered, even more so when that was answered by Marianne glancing down again. “How do you feel about it? Adopting, having children, all of those things.”

That was something the vet had expected to come up in that conversation and as such, she had been thinking about the matter for the last few days. Since she was secure about her response, she was able to look her partners in the eye when she uttered: “Honestly I have never seen myself as a mother. I don’t think I would be a good one, or maybe that’s only because it is what I have heard my entire life.”

It wasn’t easy to begin. The mere thought of opening up like that was terrifying, causing Marianne to stutter and have to restart at least three times since she realized she wasn’t making much sense, but at no point was she laughed at or mocked as she had thought she would be.

The first thing she had to convene, and one of the toughest as well, was not her adoption, but the reason why she was adopted later in life.

“I wouldn’t say my parents and I were ever a- happy family. Yes, I remember hearing people say how beautiful and an example the three of us were during services. For a while, I’d say we - or they - were happy. Until my mom started… being unwell.” She stopped and took a deep breath, trying to recall how exactly it had begun, what had been the first signs. “Sometimes she would just be holding something and then suddenly drop it, or one of her hands would shake all of a sudden. Dad said it was probably nothing, just stress over life in general and so on. She took care of things at home as he worked, but gradually she stopped doing those altogether because of her condition.

“As a result, I became not only her caretaker, as I was the only person home for the majority of the time, but I was also tasked with cleaning, washing and cooking, to name a few. I was six at the time.”

Marianne stopped, taking a deep, cleansing breath as memories returned. She could perfectly see the small bench she would have to step on in order to reach the much taller oven, how she would burn herself on an almost daily basis and get some small knife cuts as well when she clumsily tried chopping food. All to the disapproval of her mother, who was really vocal about how useless she was.

“Doctors were called after mother began falling a bit too often and I had to start acting as her crutch on top of everything else. I had no time for myself, for playing, and school wasn’t even a possibility. That was when we started going less and less to the church, but we still tried to keep that look of, ahem, normalcy. Even if uh, the physicians ran way too many tests on her and found nothing.”

She went on to describe how her childhood was turned towards watching over Mrs. von Edmund when her symptoms worsened, the shaking becoming jerking, involuntary movements, temper outbursts and kicks. The woman soon became a shadow of her former self, one that was more prone to constantly demand things from Mari and demean her if she found the smallest detail to be out of place. 

It had been easier while there were other adults around, a helpful uncle and aunt that lingered and sometimes did something nice. However, it still fell mostly on young Marianne’s hands to do everything and be called out on it, on not behaving like an adult, on not being responsible or reliable. She couldn’t even remember how many times she had been told she would be an awful mother for the simple fact that she was unable to cook or feed her mom, who was having more and more issues swallowing food as time went by.

When the diagnosis of a neurodegenerative disease finally came after they went to a specialized hospital for more scans, it was both too late to do something and the final straw. Two years had passed by then, yet the symptoms had aggravated too fast and gotten to the point where the woman had to be taken places on a wheelchair - often led by Marianne. No matter how much the family had previously been warned on the psychological effects of the illness, it wasn’t any easier to bear them, the constant lashing and undermining, words that cut more than knives and made their nest on Mari’s heart, as she was the one who remained closest to her mother by duty rather than will.

The situation was all in all insufferable, depressing and taxing on everyone involved. Soon her uncle and aunt left, then one morning she woke up to her mom’s screams only to discover that her father had abandoned them as well, leaving the child completely alone with a parent that needed urgent, specialized care. Marianne had cried for days on end, praying and asking for help to a Goddess that was seemingly deaf to her pleas. 

None of them were answered and soon enough she and her mother were left without groceries, then without money to buy more since her father had taken away their emergencial stash as well. Maybe they would have gone on like that and both died of malnourishment if, on one evening Marianne hadn’t lifted herself out of the floor where she had kneeled to pray again, and spotted a note over the table, an old one that contained a phone number which she had overseen due to the chaotic last few days. 

Although little Mari couldn’t read at the age of eight, she had been taught to identify numbers and make phone calls in order to be “less useless” around the house. Upon seeing those numbers, she dialed them and pleaded with whoever was on the other end of the line to help her.

Unknown to her at first, she had just dialed the hospital where her mom had been doing her most recent tests and treatments. Once the kind secretary calmed her down enough to make sense of what the child was saying, an ambulance was sent and both Mari and her mother were taken away.

By that point Marianne stopped, looked around her to the beautiful landscape of the park, the sight of her partners doing their best to keep their expressions open and understanding. Her heart lurched, knowing that either they wouldn’t want anything to do with her after that or they were about to cut her off and walk away soon enough. Even so, she relished in the grounding sensation of their hands on hers, at times just holding for support and comfort, others squeezing in encouragement and care.

“You might… think it stupid or weird, but being in the hospital was the best thing that had happened so far. It meant I didn’t - didn't have to do any household chores or feed my mother, as there were nurses and doctors for that," Marianne was still faltering at parts, talking too low or fast over others. Nevertheless, it was a lot easier to go on after she had begun. "For the first time in a while I was cared for and got to talk to amazing people who seemed to be very concerned with everything. I could sleep, pray, play and eat whenever I wanted and there were other kids there who I got to be friends with, too.

“Unfortunately nothing good lasts forever and a week later, someone said my father was no longer around. Later on, I found out that he was dead and he had left us because of his own depression, plus despair at everything that had happened with mom.” She could tell that Annie and Mercie were gawking at her, shocked that the charismatic, funny man they had gotten to meet during church collapsed on his own despair like that. “And around two months after that, my mom er… followed him, as the nurses had kindly said.”

“Mari, I’m -” Annette started, her voice warbling as she pulled the vet into an embrace.

“I was unsure of how life would be after that,” she continued as if nothing had been said. She had to go on, or else she would lose motivation to finish her tale and that would do more harm than good to their relationship. “An orphanage sounded like the one logical solution, as I couldn’t go on living in the hospital like that, now that there was nobody to pay for it and I was fine. I remember lying awake, thinking how useless I was and how that would more than likely land me in the streets since no one would want someone like me.

“But the next day, a social worker was kind enough to let me know that I was indeed to be placed in an orphanage, one led by a Manuela Casagranda and I’d probably be there for a very short while even so, since my parents had left me with a large sum of money. I didn’t understand why that was important at the time, but apparently they had been saving a lot for their retirement and that was why there was barely any food at home, despite how much father worked.”

The child hadn’t really comprehended how adults would love adopting her and having all of that money on their disposal as soon as she was old enough to use it. As long as they kept a tight grip on her later on, that meant they would more than likely have a little share of it, right? And given Marianne’s soft, helpful nature, that would probably be the case. The moment someone mentioned that she would come with what was seen as a bounty, every grownup that had been applying for children suddenly found themselves very interested in her, even if at first they had said she wasn’t what they were looking for.

Manuela was smarter than that, however, and could see through most of them since she had dealt with adults who just wanted a kid to say they had one. She was the first to reject them instead and spare the little girl more issues;  she pulled through their facades with as much ease as she sang a lullaby for her charges when they were unable to sleep.

That didn’t mean she was infallible though, and at a point a couple did pass through her usual scans, coming across as the sweetest people ever. Even Marianne fell for it, but then it was the first time grownups outside of nurses, doctors and caretakers had showered her with attention like that, asking about her likes and dislikes, what she wanted to do and so on.

That beautiful illusion was shattered the moment the adoption papers were signed and they got home from the orphanage. As the door closed behind Mari, the new parents were keen on establishing some rules and making sure Marianne understood that, due to her mother’s issues and the fact that such diseases could be genetically inherited, it would be better if she were kept mostly indoors.

Their logic, albeit weird, was too compelling since they stated over and over that they worried about her having the same symptoms and being too far away from them once those showed up - and honestly, after so many years spent close to her mother at home, the child was also fearful of going outside to begin with. They repeated those things so frequently that Mari started looking out for signs that she was going down the same path as well, always so vigilant of herself as she spent her days cooking, cleaning and tending now to her foster parents.

The only change to what she used to do at her old home was the fact that she was actually homeschooled by her foster mother, who was as strict a teacher as she was a caretaker, and said she was doing the best for her when she reprimanded Marianne for either asking too many questions or doing something that went against what they wanted her to. She would remind the child of how they were doing their best for her and there was a reason why they were keeping her indoors all the time, that they knew better because she was too young and ignorant to do so.

That was when a mixture of guilt and sadness settled deeply within Marianne, chaining her to the house, to the routine her foster parents had made up for her, to their beliefs and critiques on how she could work better, clean more efficiently and become a better cook if she wanted to. It was never enough - she was never enough, and the fact that those words echoed the ones she had heard when she had been younger made everything feel more real, more like the only truth about her.

Years passed but she barely saw them, barely noticed the changes going on in her body and mind. She couldn’t see an end to that scenario and after a while she had grown too numb to actually care about it. Days ran into one another and became unintelligible, no matter what season or part of the year they were in. 

“It was… certainly unexpected when, one day, I opened the door to a police officer that had the proper papers to investigate us and so on. I was sure I had done something wrong, even though I hadn’t left the house forever and couldn’t remember trespassing the law, but I… I think I cried right in front of him and asked for forgiveness before he even stated why he was there. It was ten times worse when my foster parents did nothing either, just froze and paraded outside when asked to, far away from me.” 

To that day she recalled how she almost rushed back inside, as the colors of a world she had basically never inhabited were too strong and stark on her unaccustomed eyes. Or how the officers had a hard time understanding why she was so squeamish and, as they saw it, unwilling to cooperate. In their eyes, the moment they were on the precinct and mentioned that her aunt had filed a report for missing persons on her account, Marianne should be grateful that the distant parent had remembered her existence, instead of simply huddling in corners and refusing to talk. 

“My uncle had to do some digging in order to find out where I was,” she continued, glad the worst of her story was over and she had been able to get through it without breaking down or scaring her partners with too many emotions. “Neither him nor my aunt had heard of my adoption and thought they would find me in Manuela’s orphanage so many years later. At least she was kind enough to inform them of the address on my adoption papers and so on.”

“How long was it, Mari? That those stupid people kept you like a damn slave, that is,” Annette inquired, wondering if her words had been a bit too harsh when Mercedes squeezed her hand with a warning. Wasn’t that the unfortunate truth of it, that the treatment Marianne had received from her parents was repeated by her foster ones?

“Seven years total, I think. I try not to keep count, or even remember those days. They… surely weren't the best. Caring for others and being told how awful I was at it was all I knew and even though after a while it became a normal thing, well, that didn’t mean it hurt any less. It still does, today, if I think too much about it.” That was accompanied by a sole, lazy tear that was wiped away by Mercedes, who also enveloped her in a hug. 

It was easier then to finish, to speak of lighter things which had succeeded that little visit from the police. How she would probably have gone on believing that it was normal for her to be called names, diminished and kept inside a house due to her “illness” if doctors assured her she wasn’t the same as her mother and didn’t have to worry about inheriting that disease at all.

How she would more than likely still let herself be treated poorly if a wonderful lawyer by the name of Anselma von Hresvelg wasn’t put on her case and acted not only as an amazing attorney, but a friend, a grownup who had dealt with cases like that before and knew exactly what to say to make Marianne start questioning that voice in her head that told her she was awful, useless and unwanted. The woman’s kindness helped her open up and speak out about her experiences both with her parents and foster ones, which led to a swift legal case that put the foster parents on jail, granting Mari’s custody to her aunt but not without stating that the girl’s wellbeing would be monitored and checked monthly by a mental and a physical health professional.

Another thing the kind lawyer had brought her, one that helped her a lot more than some of the shrinks she met, was a friend. A girl her age who was Anselma’s own daughter Edelgard, who had recently gone through something traumatic as well and could use some company. Sure, it had been awkward at first and not only because they met in the hospital they were staying at for different reasons. Whereas Mari was submitted to a complete checkup and told to stay some days so the doctors could make sure she was no longer malnourished, El had just undergone a revision back surgery and had to rest before being allowed to go home. 

Resting was boring even though it didn’t mean either of them were kept out of things to do or just confined to a bed all the time. Given what they had gone through, having the time and space to heal was more than welcome, but on the other hand that could be a lonely process too, no matter how many professionals and grownups they had at their disposal to speak with. It was one thing to talk to adults that had been trained to help and another altogether to have someone their own age who they could call friend. That was why Anselma had introduced them one afternoon, when both girls were looking too downcast and she decided it might be a good idea to set them up like that.

The calm, languid hospital atmosphere, or at least the one that settled around them so they could rest and heal, allowed them to get together as gradually as they wanted and felt comfortable with. At first they only exchanged small glances that resulted in both looking away soon afterwards, since they were self-conscious about their issues - and El about her hideous bandages, which could be seen through the thin hospital gowns.

However, some days later a “good morning” turned into “how are you feeling?” and emotions were convened, expressed. Traumas were discussed, dissected, tears were shed for each other and they did, indeed, become true friends during that hospital stay. 

Their connection didn’t end when Edelgard was discharged, thankfully. Marianne was a more than welcome presence at the Hresvelg house, a place that had become a bit too big and gloomy after what had happened to the girl.

Despite El’s protests, Mari aided her in recovery, walking with her and making sure she wasn’t pushing herself too hard. For the first time in her life Marianne was praised by her work instead of chastised by it, something that she realized she had unconsciously expected to happen; it had been awkward at first to finally get some validation for what she was doing, some gratitude and nice words for her actions. Likewise, Edelgard proved to be a great tutor and helped Mari get up to date with her schoolwork, since she was supposed to start attending a real school next term and had a lot to catch up after learning nothing in the first few years of her life and then having to rely on her foster mother’s dubious lessons later on.

In the end school had been the thing to separate them, as Marianne was forced to take a lot of extra lessons and do more work than everyone else in her term if she hoped to graduate with her age group - she took one more year to do that after her aunt kindly let her know that it was ok, that she didn’t have to exhaust herself every single day in order to catch up with bureaucratic matters and that she would still be amazing even if she needed two, five or ten more years to graduate high school. 

Even so, it was harder than she had thought to go to school and not just because of the assignments. All that contact with other people, the noises she had never heard before, the mere routine of it, everything that felt so normal and like second nature to those around Mari was enough to overwhelm her and send her reeling sometimes in the middle of classes too. She didn’t know how to behave around others, what was expected of her in social interactions. While befriending Hilda had helped a lot, since the cheerful girl was great at keeping her grounded, at times it was still too much.

“Maybe it will always be too much, but that is why I enjoy the little café I work at, as far away from the crowd as I can be,” Marianne concluded, head bowed in silent defeat, admitting to herself and to the other two that sometimes everything was a lot to process. 

It wasn’t easy to face one’s weaknesses like that, much less to expose them to the world - even if that “world” was composed of two people she had grown to trust and cherish after their time together. To that day she didn’t understand a lot of what happened back there, why it had never been enough. Why she had never been enough, and why sometimes that hurt so much even though more than a decade had passed since her biological parents’ deaths.

The pain was familiar and dull for her, yet it wasn’t for others, for those who had been exposed to her story for the first time. Her ache was reflected in the tears that gathered and spilled from Annette’s and Mercedes’s eyes, in the same way they had done in Edelgard’s so many years ago and on hers, when things became too much again and she had to engage with that past one more time, to see if she could finally let it go. At some point, Annie had leaned her head on the vet’s shoulder and Mercie had crept closer on the small bench, hugging them both. Their expressions were sad and full of concern, but Marianne had no idea what to expect from them. 

Would they leave her be now that they realized the full extent of what had transpired in the years they had been kept apart? Would they say she was too strange, that she was clinging too much to a past that didn’t deserve all that attention to begin with? Or that there was a risk the doctors had been lying and she would indeed start showing signs of a neurodegenerative disease that none of them wanted to deal with?

The silence that stretched itself through minutes, that stretched minutes into hours, made Marianne's heart hammer inside her chest in anticipation of what would come next.

“I- I don’t know what to say other than… I’m so sorry, Mari,” Annette mumbled, taking her head away from Marianne’s shoulder in order to pull her closer, into a proper embrace. “I understand now why the family thing wasn’t your favorite topic ever. Having to care for all of those people through the years, only to be called names…”

“Goddess, I think I should change my prayers to ‘may there not be as many jerks in the world today as there were yesterday, so they cannot hurt those who are unfortunate enough to be close to them.’ Amen,” Mercie mumbled, making both of them snicker through their sadness. She entwined her fingers with Marianne’s, caressing her palm. “I know it’s too late for it to be effective, dear, but if I could I’d kick all of these people until they apologized to you.”

For the first time in the hour or so it’d taken Mari to tell her life story, she gave a small beam, anchoring herself in the present as the past was once again left behind. There was the sound of the breeze ruffling leaves nearby. The warmth of her partners, who for now had seemed to accept her story - accept her - as if there were no reason for them to shun her at all. At least that was how she felt when they kept touching and shushing her, reassuring her that she had been very brave and they loved her, that they were sorry they hadn’t been able to do anything before, when she was going through those tough times.

It was the sound of children squealing and shouting nearby that reminded Marianne of why they had started talking about it at all, as three sisters rushed by them, chasing after a rare butterfly that had made its way outside in that autumn afternoon.

“I won’t be a good mother, I know it. All my life I’ve heard about how awful I was at taking care of others. That’s why I’m a bit unsure about adopting, but again… I can’t be the one to stop you if that’s what you want,” the vet uttered, forlorn. Would that be the point of dissent between them? Would that be where they would part ways again?

“First, no talking badly about ourselves in this household - er, polycule,” Mercedes started, raising her index finger after placing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Second, well, I know you won’t change your mind like that due to a few words, and also excuse my language in advance, but I don’t think those asses were actually doing a good job of caring for you, not the other way around.” The fact that her voice was sweet and gentle as she said that elicited some giggles from the other women. "Toxic parents are awful and usually what they do is blame the child for what they are doing - or what they should be doing but aren’t, in a way. Deep down they know they’re at fault, yet it’s easier to blame someone who has nothing to do with their insecurities and lackings than look at themselves and admit there’s something going on.”

“Exactly, it was never your fault and you were too young to actually be doing those things to begin with, Mari,” Annette added. “Also, that girl you befriended in the hospital, the one who had surgery, didn’t she compliment you when you helped her?” As Marianne nodded, she smiled triumphantly. “There you are. Not that you should look for confirmation or anything, but if you ever needed proof that reasonable people will always praise you to high heavens and that you are good at caring for others, there’s this.

“And also, you won’t be alone this time, Mari. Hell, we don’t even have to adopt or have a child in any other way if you don’t want to. In the case we ever get one, we’ll never make it your responsibility to take care of them alone.”

Mercedes and Annette had been right about many things that afternoon. No, those words hadn’t changed Marianne’s mind, not that quickly anyways, as she had too many bad memories and other, stronger words embedded into her mind from childhood on. They did offer a new way of thinking and looking at the world though, one that the vet found more compelling than wallowing in self doubt for the rest of her days. 

As time passed, she explored what was behind that new door with as much care as she could, yet with enough courage to continue even if the outside world - and outside perspectives - sometimes overwhelmed and scared her a little. Slowly a new sort of hope was planted, then flourished in Marianne’s heart while days went by and she was loved the same as before, cherished and respected, better understood. It made her able to love and respect more too, as finally that major wall that had kept her apart from her partners had crumbled and she had been allowed to be her truest self. 

Sometimes that meant crying when waking up from nightmares of the past, but those went away while two other gentle hearts and souls made sure she was comfortable, back to the present and to the warmth of their touches. In other times that meant becoming a tad too silent and withdrawn, which was acknowledged with whispered affirmations, a kiss or hug and space if she needed it.

And in each day, in each moment that passed, even when they had some disagreements over minor and major issues since they were human beings trying to be together and be the best for themselves and each other, Marianne couldn’t help but love them more, love herself a little more once she realized that was a possibility, and embrace change as it came. 

It had taken more than a year, some planning and lots of reassuring until they started looking at the orphanages around Garreg Mach, finally settling on the one that was still run by the same Manuela Casagrandq, with the addition of her amazing partner Judith. There, on a beautiful Sunday morning after services, a little kid named Ariel enchanted the three women and almost begged to be taken home by them.

Sure, having a kid isn’t a walk in the park and there are days when not only Marianne, but Annette and Mercedes are a bit too unsure about what to do, how to respond to their needs and latest challenges. On others, Mercie burns their eggs, Annette puts two different socks on their feet and Marianne forgets to give them their favorite plushie at bedtime. However, not only do the three have each other to help after laughing about the mishap in question, but also they are always there to reassure one another that they’re only human and loveable, the same way they were before that mistake was made.