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As Ingrid walked absently through the Black Eagles’ hallway, her eyes came to rest on an open door, light spewing forth from within. She approached carefully, peering in to identify the occupant. Petra was sitting on some unfamiliar type of rug, her legs folded underneath her and her hands resting on her knees. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was moving absently.
“Ah… sorry,” Ingrid said, stepping back. She wondered if anyone else was around the hallway at this time of day.
“Ingrid, right? Come in, I was just finishing my meditation,” Petra said, unfurling herself and getting to her feet. Ingrid came in, her eyes drawn to the clothes she wore- and what she wasn’t wearing. She had heard that Brigid was a warmer climate compared to Adrestia, but the fact that the people there would wear loose fabrics and have whole limbs exposed escaped her.
“If you wore that in Faerghus, you’d freeze,” Ingrid remarked. Petra shrugged, rolling her arms around.
“It is cold here in Adrestia. I am thinking I am not looking forward to visiting Faerghus,” she said, beginning a sequence of stretches that she held for far longer than a stretch ought to take.
“Is that a Brigid technique? What’s it for?” Ingrid asked.
“It is not of Brigid, but Brigid has been adopting it. It is a combination of what we know as the meditation and the exercise,” Petra said. Ingrid nodded.
“I have heard of both. I’ve never tried meditation before, though. I didn’t realise Brigid had a culture beyond fighting- I’ve never seen you not training,” Ingrid said.
“I was a hostage of Adrestia at a school of military. My culture wouldn’t come up much. I am believing your culture is rather empty, however,” Petra said.
“We don’t have a culture. ...Do we?” Ingrid asked, confused. Petra laughed, just happening to coincide with a toss of her head to reorganise her hair.
“You must think the way you grew is normal, and people who grew a different way are the cultured. But to me, the way I would have been growing is normal, and you are the one who is different. The way you are different to other people is being your culture,” Petra said.
“I see… so what is Faerghus culture to you?” Ingrid asked. Petra interrupted what was presumably a choreographed sequence of stretches to adopt one that instantly evoked the mind of a warrior.
“Faerghus is being valuing of its leaders, and has people to protect its leaders from problems at all costs. If you are not born with power, you are to make sure that the people with power live,” Petra said.
“...You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Ingrid said. Petra gestured to the mat, stopping her stretches and folding her legs in a more comfortable position so as to sit on the ground. Ingrid tried to copy her, failed, and decided she was fine the way she fell.
“In Brigid, the people who are being looked up to are the people who earn it. I am, as Fodlan say, ‘Her Highness’, but I did not go back to Brigid and become the next Queen by showing my birthmark. I learned all I could so I could be an educated and thoughtful Queen,” Petra explained.
“...I thought you were taken hostage because you were the princess,” Ingrid said.
“I was the daughter of the current King. He was powerless while his daughter was captured. If I was killed by Adrestia, a new King of Brigid would have been chosen. If we kill Dimitri, Faerghus will have panic. It is almost sad,” Petra said. Ingrid sighed, not being able to tell her otherwise.
“It felt weird, going from a society like that to a group like this one. Edelgard is so different from Dimitri… I’d say it’s like being in a different country, but I suppose you’d know how that feels better than anyone,” Ingrid said.
“At least you can speak the same words. At least you brought friends,” Petra said. It took a moment for Ingrid to recognise who she meant.
“Ashe, Mercedes and Annette? They were in my class, but I hadn’t met them until Garreg Mach. Dimitri, Felix and Sylvain were my friends, and they’ve all apparently decided to stay with the scary dragon. I don’t understand why Felix and Sylvain did, though… is it because I’m actually the wrong one? That question keeps me up at night,” Ingrid said.
“I cannot be blaming them. Edelgard did not be making the best first impression. I almost decided not to fight for her myself. But it is important to be considering things beyond just first impressions. Edelgard has learned more about Brigid than any other Adrestian noble cared to. She has outlined exactly how she intends to free Brigid of its vassal state. And being in the Church surrounded me with awful people that spat at me, said Brigid did not belong there… no such people are in this army. If Brigid does not belong in Rhea’s army, then Brigid belongs in Edelgard’s,” Petra explained. Ingrid gave a shiver.
“...I wonder how Dedue’s doing,” she remarked.
“Dedue?” Petra asked, head tilting.
“He was a person from Duscur. His people killed Dimitri’s father and his knights- or at least they were accused of it- and they haven’t been very welcome in Faerghus ever since. A friend of mine was among the knights who died, and I held that against Dedue while he was at Garreg Mach. I wonder what he thinks of himself around people like that,” Ingrid explained.
“Yes, him and Cyril must have their reasons. I would very much like to hear these reasons. I cannot be imagining they are any good, but I must know what drives a man to serve a woman like Rhea,” Petra sighed.
“For Sylvain, it’s easy. Her hips,” Ingrid said, instinctively jumping to the obvious joke.
“...Why would Rhea’s hips be doing much convincing?” Petra innocently asked.