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To say that things had been tense since everyone found themselves back at the monastery was an understatement. Annette and Mercedes had gotten into some big fight, Dimitri had only one eye and was very much not himself, and Felix was his usual cantankerous self.
When Professor Byleth walked into their usual meeting room one morning and announced that they wouldn’t be having a war meeting that day, Sylvain wasn’t the least bit surprised. Nor was he when Byleth announced that the day would instead be spent doing team building activities that she, Seteth, and Sir Gilbert prepared.
He just wished that the three of them had put even the slightest bit of thought into planning the groups. Byleth had split the old House into two, and Sylvain had all the misfortune in the world to be grouped with the same three people he’d spent his entire life grouped with: Ingrid, Dimitri, and Felix.
That was how he found himself back in his old classroom with his old classmates. Ashe, Annette, Mercedes, and Flayn were holed up in the old Golden Deer room, and they seemed like sunshine and rainbows compared to the downright gloomy weather Dimitri and Felix were bringing with them.
“This is a waste of my time. I’m leaving,” Dimitri said to no one in particular as he walked out of the classroom. He hadn’t even bothered to take a seat.
“Good riddance,” Felix scowled in his seat with his arms crossed across his chest, pointedly ignoring the scowl that Ingrid was giving him. “If the boar gets to leave, so do I.”
His chair scraped loudly against the floor as he got up and walked towards the door.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Ingrid asked with that tone of voice that Sylvain was all too familiar with - it was her “lecture” voice, prepared specifically for instances when he and Felix were being asses.
“The training grounds. I plan on actually being productive today,” he replied before narrowing his eyes at Sylvain. “Let’s spar.”
With two sets of eyes trained at him, Sylvain could feel his pulse start to speed up. He scratched at a phantom itch at the back of his neck while his hazel eyes darted to and fro between Ingrid and Felix. He weighed his options carefully - anger Felix or disappoint Ingrid? Since “grumpy” was pretty much Felix’s default mood and he hadn’t been on the receiving end of one of Ingrid’s patented lectures in quite a while, he quickly made up his mind. “Sorry, Felix. I’m staying here.”
Felix, to his credit, did not murder Sylvain. Instead, the swordsman only rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Whatever,” he grumbled as his boots clicked against the floor as he walked out. The door slammed shut, and the sound of it reverberated through the room and in his bones.
“Are we still doing this?” Sylvain turned his head towards Ingrid and lazily brushed crimson hair out of his eyes.
“Why wouldn’t we?” Ingrid raised an eyebrow at him. “The Professor’s instructions were pretty clear.”
“Yeah, but we’re not the ones who’ve been causing trouble for everyone else. We’ve been exceptionally well-behaved recently. You haven’t even yelled at me since we’ve returned here.”
She rolled her eyes at him, but a playful smile still crossed her face. “I suppose I can admit that you’ve been remarkably restrained these days. But it’s not about our good behavior - it’s about the principle. When the Professor gives an order, we follow.”
He nodded along. Ingrid was nothing without her principles (and her appetite, love for reading and chivalry, and the countless other things that made her Ingrid). “Yeah, I get what you’re saying, I really do,” he grinned as he got out of his chair and headed towards the stack of parchments left on Byleth’s desk. “Let’s go take a look at these, yeah?”
As he skimmed through the papers, he could feel her arm brush against his. The contact sent a tiny jolt racing down his spine before vanishing in a split second.
Beside him, Ingrid frowned at the paper in his hands while her fingers idly twirled a loose lock of blonde hair. “So the Professor really wasn’t kidding when she said that we’d have to do these as a group. How are the two of us supposed to play Pass the Message?”
“What’s the plan, then? Do you want to sneak in and join the other group?”
“Let’s see first what we can do on this list,” she replied as her finger traced its way down the parchment. “Although I suppose Tug-of-War is off the table.”
“Who came up with this list anyhow?” he frowned as he scanned through it. “This whole thing’s got ‘Seteth’ written all over it.”
“Sylvain,” she giggled beside him, and the sound of it teased at his ears like a pleasant melody. “Seteth’s signature is at the bottom of the page.”
“Eagle-eyed as always, aren’t you? Ooh! What if we did the Trust Fall?”
The frown was now very apparent in her voice. “You’re a full head taller than me. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
With a dramatic swoosh, he turned on his heel until his back was towards her. “Catch me, Ingrid,” he said before leaning back with reckless abandon and falling into the emptiness behind him while his gaze shifted towards the ceiling.
“Wha-Sylvain!” she cried out, and he could already feel her arms against him and keeping him upright. “That was downright idiotic! I might not have caught you, you know?”
“But you did,” he smiled as he disentangled himself from her grip and turned to face her. “I have the utmost faith in your capability.”
“You’re just used to me being there to catch you,” she rolled her eyes.
“I call it trust. Now you go.”
“Me?” she squeaked.
“I did it,” he shrugged. “Besides, you were the one saying we should do it for the Professor. Don’t you trust me, Ingrid?”
“You know I do,” her voice sounded too small for a second, too modest, too shy. “Alright, here goes.”
With her back to him, she let herself fall into the space between them. In an almost automatic motion, he reached out to catch her and let her fall into his arms. Without the bulky armor she wore, she almost felt delicate in his grip (not that he’d ever tell her that lest he get punched in the face). For a moment, a dangerous thought danced behind his eyes - pull her close to your chest, never let her go. A brief shake of the head was enough to send him back to reality. “See? Nothing to worry about,” he said too smoothly. “I got you, Ingrid.”
Was he imagining the light pink that was blooming on her cheeks?
“Thanks,” she smiled back and stood up straight. They turned their attention back to the long list of activities on the desk, but the feeling of her in his arms still lingered pleasantly. “Ooh, this looks fun. We have to say two true things about ourselves, and one lie, and the other people have to guess,” she said as she read the list.
“That should be easy,” he said quickly. There was a time where nearly every word out of his mouth was a bold and brazen lie, and it wasn’t the sort of skill that easily disappeared. When he caught sight of the frown on her face, something uneasy stabbed at his heart. “Guessing,” he added. “Because we’ve known each other since we were children.”
“That may be true,” Ingrid hummed thoughtfully. “But I’m sure there are a few things you don’t know about me yet. And I’m sure I can come up with a pretty convincing lie.”
Sylvain already knew she wouldn’t. Ingrid, for all her talents, was a terrible liar (which, to be fair, couldn’t really be considered a flaw either). It was one of the reasons he valued her company - she had more than enough honesty for the two of them.
“I’ve got you beat here. I probably know you better than I know myself,” he chuckled.
“I highly doubt that,” she laughed. “Let’s take a while to really think, and then we’ll get into it.”
He nodded and watched her walk off to the far corner of the room. As he took a seat, he began to realize that the game might not have been as easy as initially thought. Ingrid knew pretty much everything about him, and the things she didn’t know about him were hidden from her for good and obvious reasons. Everything and anything good that happened in his life, he was sure to share with her, and he wasn’t sure if he could count on her forgetting anything he’d told her.
An old memory, one back from when they were children and he didn’t have to pretend to be happy, flickered in his mind, and it was too good not to use. If he knew anything about her, she’d take this bait.
After a short stretch of silence, she walked back towards him and took a seat nearby. “You got your truths and lie ready?” she asked, and he couldn’t help but smile at the playful sparkle shining in her green eyes.
“I’ve got them,” he grinned.
“Alright, who goes first?”
“You go.”
“Alright,” she made a big show of cracking her knuckles. “First statement: I love cabbage and herring stew-”
“Lie.”
The competitive smile on her face vanished, leaving behind a confused frown. “How’d you know?”
“Because I know you, Ingrid. I’ve known you for way too long to be thrown off by a fib like that.”
“That’s unfair,” she grumbled as she folded her arms across her chest.
“Hey,” he laughed. “It’s not my fault that you picked an easy lie. Shall I go?”
“I’m ready, but I’m going to totally beat you at this, just you watch.”
“Okay, statement one: I aced my dark knight certification on my first try. Statement two: I’ve never read the story of Loog and the Northern Constellations. Statement three,” he paused for dramatic effect before lowering his voice deviously and shooting her a sly wink. “You’ve kissed me before.”
Her eyes lit up at her apparent victory. “I have never kissed you. Ever,” she said with a triumphant grin plastered on her face.
Smug satisfaction dripped off his voice while the smirk on his face widened into a cheeky grin. “Wrong,” he drew out the syllable very slowly and watched the shock register on her face. “The lie was that I’ve never-”
“I have not kissed you!” she protested while her face flushed a deep and violent red. “You are so full of it.”
“I’m not lying!” he laughed. “Granted, you were only 7 and I was 9, and it was only on the cheek, but-”
“Nuh-uh,” she shook her head vehemently.
“It’s true. We can go ask Felix - he was there, too.”
“I’d really rather not. Oh Goddess, did I kiss Felix as well?” she buried her face in her hands to hide the color on her cheeks.
“Would it make you feel any better if you did?”
When she looked up to meet his gaze, the vibrant red that spread across her cheeks had now faded into a dull and muted pink. “I don’t know,” she muttered.
“Well, it was just me. Did wonders for my self-esteem, you know.”
She looked at him expectantly, so he carried on with his story. “I don’t remember the circumstances too well. We were playing some dumb game with Dimitri and Sylvain, and you may have been a queen, or a princess, or a knight. Maybe we were supposed to get married, who knows? Point is you did. It left an indelible, lip-shaped mark on my soul.”
It was hard to forget, after all, since it was one of his most cherished memories, a brief reminder that sometimes good things happened to him for reasons he could never quite explain. It was one of the very few things from his childhood that didn’t leave a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought of it.
“You were playing dirty,” she groaned. “That was cheap. And I’m still doubting the validity of your little story.”
“You wound me,” he said, not sounding particularly wounded. He grabbed the list of activities off the desk and continued to scan through it, just in case Ingrid had any follow up questions about what it was like. He wasn’t sure if he’d have a proper answer. “I don’t think there’s anything else here that can be done with just the two of us.”
She yanked the paper out of his hands. “Lemme see.”
With an amused expression on his face, he watched the way her eyes moved up and down and her eyebrows knitted together, reading through the list. A faint smile tugged at his lips - he’d seen this concentrated look from her before. Whether it was an assignment or an actual war council, Ingrid brought the same dedication to anything thrown her way. She was nothing if not consistent.
And consistent meant stable, especially for someone as turbulent as him.
“We can try this last one and then head out,” she finally looked up. “And it’s straightforward: we both have to write down three things we really appreciate about each other.”
“I’m not sure if I can limit myself to just three,” he grinned playfully, the barest trace of honesty laced through it.
“Ha ha,” she deadpanned.
The easygoing, almost earnest smile on his mouth faltered and something in his chest tightened. His breath caught in his throat, and whatever words he had vanished.
“Oh Goddess, that wasn’t a line?” she said when her eyes, filled with too much sincerity, met his. “I’m sorry, Sylvain, I didn’t-”
“It’s fine,” he said. It almost was. “You told me my behavior would catch up to me one of these days. No smoke without fire, or so I’ve been told.”
“I did say that,” she mumbled sullenly. “But still-”
“We’re good, Ingrid,” he smiled weakly. “Promise. Let’s get started.”
He grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill and tried to think. Now that he actually had to put something into words, nothing came to mind. And he most certainly couldn’t write “everything” on his paper and call it a day.
Hmm, maybe some other time. Not now. Ingrid was always a stickler for the rules - she’d make him try again. Maybe he could write that in a nicer, more complimentary way. That’s one, and-
“Did you write everything down?” she called out.
His pulse quickened, and his heart felt out of sync with the rest of the world, like a musician playing half a second behind the rest of the orchestra. “Almost,” he said in a straight voice.
His hands seemed to move of their own accord while his addled brain scrambled to put his thoughts together into something vaguely coherent. When he put the quill down and he read the words he’d written, that soft buzz was back and tickling at his chest. “Alright, I’m ready.”
She’d already taken a seat across him. “Shall I go first or will you?”
Before any of his courage could leave him, he gave her a bright smile. “I’ll go first this time.”
And when she looked at him with her expectant, wide-eyed gaze, he almost faltered.
“First thing I really appreciate is that you keep me in line. When I’m being a jackass, when I’m not using my head, you’re always the first to let me know. And I always complain about it, but I really do appreciate that. Second, you’ve always been your own person. You don’t care what other people think or say. Instead, you hold firm in your goals and ambitions. Your life is your own, and I respect that. And lastly, you’re always there for me. I know I’m not an easy person to be around, but you’re still here. I know that I can always count on you, and for that I’ll always be grateful.”
For a moment, the room was still and silent. He absentmindedly chewed on his bottom lip and watched her stare at her boots. “Thank you, Sylvain,” her voice sounded tiny and vulnerable. “I… thank you.”
She took one last glance at her list before crumpling it up. “I didn’t write anything quite as nice as you did,” she mumbled before letting out a melancholy chuckle. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so… sappy.”
“I wasn’t either,” he admitted. “But I did want to let you know how much you mean to me. Goddess knows I don’t tell you enough.”
“I want to try,” she said. “No list. This is just me.”
After a couple of deep breaths, she began to speak. “You’ve always been there for me, too. After Glenn,” her voice trailed off. “It was you who brought me back to the world. When the monastery was attacked and we had to go back home, it was you who kept me company. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Her words rattled him to his core and shook him to his bones. A pleasant warmth stirred in his soul. “You’re a knight in all the best ways - loyal, brave, kind, and always willing to do what’s right. And I know how much love you have for everyone, even if you don’t know how to express it sometimes. We all feel it, and we’re all so much better for it. There’s so much more that I want to say,” she said softly before wiping away at her eyes. “But I’ll just limit it to three.”
Something stung at his eyes. He brought a hesitant and trembling hand to his face and was surprised to find teardrops staining his fingertips. “Dammit, Ingrid.”
“You started it,” she laughed despite the tears in her eyes.
“I know,” he let out a low chuckle and walked towards her. With the distance between them closed, he took her hand and rubbed small circles against it with his thumb. “You mean the world to me, you know that?”
“Can we hug or something?” she asked shyly as she got to her feet.
“You don’t have to ask. You never have to,” he said before pulling her into a tight embrace. His heart nearly exploded in his chest when he felt her nestling against him, making the space her own.
“I almost wish Felix could have joined us,” she giggled.
“I don’t. He would’ve ruined it.”
Her laugh was quite possibly the sweetest thing to ever grace his ears. “You’re probably right.”