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Morning comes quietly as the weekend begins. The church bells chime the hour. Hilda lies in bed, quietly counting each one. Nine chimes means nine o'clock, which means she can afford to sleep another hour without anyone worrying about her.
As the bells chime eleven, her body refuses to stay down any longer. Namely, she needs to use the restroom, and ignoring it is no longer an option. Begrudgingly, she rolls out of bed.
It seems most of her other dorm mates had the same idea as they wander around the halls still in their pajamas. Only Claude seems to be reasonably conscious. He waves hello to Hilda as he walks by. Hilda smiles warmly and immediately goes back to looking tired as soon as he is out of eyesight. She steps over a still sleeping Linhardt passed out in the hall. They snore softly, muttering something as Hilda accidentally nudges them.
The bathroom is busy this time of day. Students walk about in only towels. Sylvain takes advantage of this, trying to show off for the ladies in the room. No one pays him any attention. Soon, Felix walks in to drag him away.
First order of business is Hilda's business. As she steps out to wash her hands, she notices a fellow classmate.
"Good morning, Lysithea!" She greets her, mustering her least tired voice.
Lysithea does not seem to care, and she answers with her usual enthusiasm. "Good morning, Hilda."
"How are you this fine morning?"
"Decent."
"Had any good dreams?"
"My dreams are nothing I wish to share with you."
Hilda purses her lip, not sure how to react. "That's fine."
The conversation falls there. Hilda stares at her hands as she scrubs them. It feels like it has been too long, but if she stops, then she has no excuse to stay. So she continues to scrub, getting every single crevice on her hands—even going so far as to wash past her wrists.
Lysithea minds her own business, not bothering to question why Hilda has been washing her hands for the past three minutes. Instead, she stares at herself in the mirror and brushes her hair, which is so long that it only stops just above her waist. It looks incredibly soft, and Hilda can tell she puts pride in taking care of it.
"You have such pretty hair," Hilda says without thinking. Unable to help herself, she reaches out to touch it.
Lysithea grabs her wrist. "Hey! Just because I'm younger than you doesn't mean you can touch me as you please."
"I'm sorry. I should have asked first."
Lysithea seems genuinely surprised by the other's willingness to apologize without arguing on the matter. She answers back, her voice slightly warmer, "Thank you for understanding."
"Now, obviously you can say no, but your hair does look really soft," Hilda continues. "I would like to touch it if that's okay with you."
A pause.
"You may."
So Hilda steps forward, reaching out to pet Lysithea's hair. As expected, her hair is incredibly soft, and Hilda finds herself feeling jealous.
"Your hair is so long," she says. "I could spend all day playing with it."
"Really?" Lysithea answers.
"Oh, absolutely. I could braid it, or style it, or maybe give you a whole makeover! It could be fun."
"A makeover?"
"Yeah! We'll stay up really late in my room gossiping and talking about boys and I'll do your hair and you'll do mine, then I'll do your makeup and your nails, and maybe we practice kissing—that part was a joke. All I'm saying is it could be really fun."
"That sounds... fun."
It isn’t the answer Hilda was expecting, but she is elated to hear otherwise. "Meet me in my room after dinner! Bring extra pillows. I'll do the rest."
Lysithea smiles. "It sounds like a plan."
----
Despite having slept through half of it, the day goes by too slowly. Hilda finds herself willing time to go by faster as she eats lunch. Her usual group sits with her. Ignatz sits at the end of the table absorbed in his sketchbook, Leonie seems to be going for the world record of eating the most helpings of food, and Claude spends more time looking wistful than actually eating.
"You look more distracted than usual," Claude mentions, grabbing Hilda's attention.
“I’m not distracted,” Hilda answers idly.
“You’ve been trying to eat tea with a fork for the past five minutes.”
“Oh!” She promptly removes her fork from her tea cup and moves it to her plate. “Fine. Maybe I’m a little distracted.” As for why, Hilda would never tell. Even if Claude is her closest friend.
But Claude is a curious one. He leans in to ask, “Why’s that? Boy trouble?”
“I’m more trouble to them than they are to me.”
“Nice.” Claude gives her a quick high five before sounding soulful once more. “Still, there has to be something bothering you. What is it?”
“Nothing important. Just stupid school stuff.”
“Anything I could help with?”
“If you want to write my report on different sword metals and their practical uses for me, then yes.” Hilda bats her eyelashes.
“I can help you write your essay on sword metals,” Claude says.
“If you’re not gonna do it for me, then why even bother offering?”
“Touché.”
----
Later that evening, Hilda eats dinner faster than she should and rushes to her room. Lysithea could arrive at any moment. It is only at this moment that Hilda realizes her room is a mess and certainly not fit for company to come over. There’s dirty clothes lying about. Hilda’s underwear is on display for anyone to see.Her bed is unmade. Homework not done. And don’t get her started on her vanity. Lysithea would never spend the night in a room like this.
Where’s Sylvain when you need him? No. There's no time. Hilda has to resort to her least favorite method: doing it herself.
She’s made pretty good progress by the time Lysithea arrives; a light knock pulls her from her cleaning frenzy. Hilda skips over to the door and kicks a stray pair of underwear under her bed as she goes.
“What a surprise!” Hilda says as she opens the door.
Lysithea stands before her, looking whelmed. “You knew I was coming.”
“You’re hilarious. Come on in. I stole some cake from the dining hall for us.”
“What kind?”
“I couldn’t decide, so I stole three.”
“You took three entire cakes?”
“Yes?”
“Hilda, you can’t do that!”
“Don’t complain until you’ve tried them. I got strawberry shortcake just for you.”
Lysithea’s eyes widen, like a cat watching a feather blow in the wind. “I retract my earlier statement.”
“That's the spirit!” Hilda closes the door behind them.
The two sit together on the floor sharing the cake between them. Lysithea voraciously helps herself to the strawberry shortcake. Then, a slice of lemon cake. Hilda does the same, but eats much more leisurely in comparison.
“You got a little frosting on your cheek.” Hilda points to her own cheek to show her friend.
Lysithea proceeds to wipe the wrong cheek. “Did I get it?”
“No.”
She repeats the action, still missing the dab of frosting. “How about now?”
“No. Let me get it.” Hilda leans in and reaches her hand out.
Lysithea pulls away. “I’m not a child! I can get it myself.”
“I’m not wiping your face because you’re a child. In fact, I don’t ever want to touch a child. Too sticky. I do this for Claude all the time. Just let me get it or go stand by the mirror so you can see it.”
“Fine. You may wipe the frosting from my face.”
“This will only hurt for a second.” Hilda reaches her hand out once more, bringing her palm to rest on the other girl’s cheek. Time seems to slow down, and Hilda catches herself staring at the other girl’s lips. The frosting. Right. Hilda takes her thumb and gently wipes the frosting away. She then sticks her thumb into her own mouth without thinking.
“Why did you do that?” Lysithea asks, visibly shaken by the simple act.
Hilda answers easily, “I don’t want to get frosting on my skirt.”
“That makes sense.”
“Exactly. I’m smarter than I look.” She pauses a second before adding, “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”
Lysithea laughs. “It’ll be our secret.”
Two cakes later, and each girl is rather full. They lie on Hilda’s bed enjoying each other’s company. Hilda catches her up on the latest in classroom gossip.
“Claude’s been sneaking off again. I think he’s seeing someone from another house,” she says.
“You really think so?” Lysithea asks, strangely interested in the whole ordeal. “Wouldn’t it make more sense if he was sneaking off to the library to scheme like he usually does?”
“Where’s the fun in assuming that? It’s much more fun to imagine him sneaking off to have a romantic tryst with Ashe.”
“Ashe? You think he’s courting Ashe?”
Hilda shrugs. “Think about it.”
“I’m thinking about it. I’m not sure how you want me to feel.”
“Okay. Hear me out. Claude is secretive and makes it obvious that he is so. Ashe is an open book. His whole life is laid out for anyone who wishes to see. Maybe Claude can trust Ashe, and in turn, learn to let himself be more vulnerable. Also, they’ve been hanging out together in the greenhouse a lot lately. I think they’ve been kissing.”
“Or they’re just friends.”
“Maybe they’re friends now, but in five years, they’ll meet each other again and fall in love.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Think about it! It would be super romantic. Like something you would write a book about.”
“Can we stop talking about romance? Boys are gross.”
Hilda snorts. “That’s the most teenage thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
“You’re a teenager too,” Lysithea huffs.
“You’re right, but I’m a cool teenager.”
“Hey!”
“I’m kidding. You’re cool too. Like, really cool. If I’m being honest, I kinda look up to you.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. You work so hard, and you’re so smart. You’re definitely Byleth’s favorite. I mean, they have good taste. Who wouldn’t like you? You’re amazing!”
“You flatter me.”
“Because it’s true. And I’m not just buttering you up so you’ll do my homework. However, if you were to offer, I wouldn’t exactly turn it down…”
Lysithea rolls her eyes. “Do your own homework.”
“Fine. I’ll stop asking,” Hilda says. She rolls over onto her stomach. “Okay. We ate junk food and gossiped. That means it’s time for the makeover.”
“Are you really going to give me a makeover?” Her friend asks hesitantly.
“Of course I am. It’s kinda my thing. You’re always going on about how people treat you like a child. Maybe a little lipstick will help you feel more grown up. I mean, you’re the same age as almost everyone here anyway. I hate you feeling so left out just because you’re a bit younger than some of us.”
“You’d really do that for me?”
“Duh. Sit up. I’m going to paint your nails now.”
They end up choosing pink despite Lysithea’s protests. Hilda is surprisingly good with persuasion and also does not own any other colors of nail polish.
“I’ll buy you a nice dark purple next time I go out shopping. Oh! You could go shopping with me!” Hilda beams with joy as she carefully coats Lysithea’s nails with a layer of paint. Gingerly holding the other girl’s hand in her own, she bites her tongue in focus. “Honestly, I think pink is a good color on you.”
“You really think so?” Lysithea fans out her other hand, already colored in a bright pink, and squints at it.
“Yes, duh. Pink is the superior color.”
“Maybe I’ll wear pink more often.”
“You say that like you’ll ever wear anything but black.”
“Hey! I resent that.”
“I’m not making fun of you! Your style is just a bit more… goth than mine. But it’s a good look on you.” Hilda finishes off the second hand. “Okay. Now, you do me.”
They switch places. Lysithea carefully takes Hilda’s hand into her own. With an unsteady hand, she starts painting Hilda’s nails. She puts all of her focus into coating Hilda’s nails perfectly. Hilda can’t help but find it cute.
Afterward, they lie on the bed with their hands in the air to dry their nails. Hilda, to no one’s surprise, goes back to gossiping but this time decides to indulge herself in the private lives of Leonie and Mercedes.
“Why them?” Lysithea dares ask.
“Mercedes is so gentle and Leonie is so rowdy,” Hilda explains. “It’s like an ‘opposites attract’ scenario. Also, they’re totally doing it. They spend an awful lot of time down by the stables alone.”
“No, I mean, why are you talking about Mercedes and Leonie specifically?”
“Oh. Because you said boys are gross. I figured girls might be more your jam.”
“More my jam?”
“Like, maybe you’re a lesbian,” Hilda says easily.
“Me? A lesbian?” Lysithea blurts out. Her face turns a bright red with embarrassment.
“Yeah. No judgement here. I’m bisexual, myself. Same with Claude. Though, I think you knew that already.”
“I’m not a—Why would you even think that?” the girl stutters out.
“A lot of things,” Hilda says. She begins to count off on her fingers. “You’re very disinterested in anything involving romance, which makes me think it’s because courtship is so very heteronormative. Especially given how us nobles are expected to marry men, or whatever. It’s annoying! Sure, I like guys, but I want to be free to choose as I please, ya know?
“Also, you always look away whenever Claude takes his shirt off. That’s how I know you’re not straight. Only a lesbian wouldn’t be a attracted to Claude,” Hilda finishes off triumphantly. “Tell me; I’m dying to know if I’m right.”
“Fine. So maybe I am a lesbian. Now what? You go gossip to everyone about it?”
“No. I don’t spread rumors about peoples’ sexualities. I only speculate about their relationships given what I already know. Claude is already out and proud about it. So are Leonie and Mercedes and Ashe.”
“So you’re not going to tell everyone?”
“Only if you want me to. I would never out someone without their explicit permission first. I’m not a monster.”
“That’s a bit comforting.”
“And what’s more comforting is half the Golden Deer are some form of gay anyway, so you have nothing to worry about if you do want to come out!”
“Thank you, Hilda. That’s very comforting to know.”
“Now, you have me thinking. Are we the gayest house? It would either be us or the Black Eagles, but I don’t want the Black Eagles to be the gayest house. However, with you on our team, I think we can take the number one title.”
“Why me?”
“Why not? Like I said before, you’re really cool. You can be my token lesbian friend.”
“What happened to Leonie?”
“She’s my token butch lesbian friend. You’re more femme leaning.”
“I’m honored to be your femme lesbian friend.”
“Best friend. If you want.”
“What?” Lysithea’s eyes go wide at the statement.
“Am I moving too fast?” Hilda asks nervously. “We can just be friends if you want. Forget I said anything.”
“No. I want to be your best friend. I’ve never had one before,” Lysithea responds quietly.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Hilda gasps with glee and throws herself at the other girl. “That makes me so happy!”
“Watch the nail polish!”
Eventually, the nail polish dries, which means it is time for a new sleepover activity. Luckily for them, Hilda has an entire agenda planned. She pulls out a box of various hair accessories. Lysithea watches with curious eyes.
“What are we doing?” She asks.
“We’re going to do each other’s hair. Would you like to braid mine?” Hilda responds.
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“You’ve never braided hair before?” She asks in shock.
“I’ve never had anyone to teach me,” says Lysithea, a hint of longing in her voice.
“Good thing you have me around to teach you everything it takes to be a woman.”
That makes the other girl laugh. “I suppose I am lucky to have you around. I have to admit, though, the nail polish is starting to grow on me.”
“Pink is a good color!”
Hilda goes on to demonstrate how to braid hair. She brushes it over her shoulder and separates it into sections. With careful hands, she puts one section over the other, forming a basic braid. All the while, Hilda explains each step. Lysithea listens diligently, even going so far as to test Hilda's method on her own hair. After a couple tries, she starts to feel confident.
“Now, braid my hair,” Hilda says. She turns around and flips her hair onto her back. Lysithea moves closer and sits on her knees. She carefully runs her hands through Hilda’s luscious hair, and eventually, she manages to make a loose braid. Hilda examines it closely.
“This is good,” she observes, “But you could make it a little tighter next time. Don’t be afraid to pull.”
“Would you like me to do it again?” Lysithea asks.
“Sure!”
Hours pass by in minutes, and what starts as doing each other’s hair turns into a full makeover. Hilda explains at length the use of each individual piece of makeup she owns, and even goes so far as to pull out her favorite palettes to show off to Lysithea.
“These colors are totally you. It has a dark purple!” Hilda says excitedly. She grins with pure delight.
“What is it?” Lysithea wonders, staring at the makeup in horror.
“Do I have to go over everything again? This is eyeshadow. Those are highlights. These are for your eyebrows. This is eyeliner. And this is mascara.”
“And mascara makes your eyelashes look longer.”
“Exactly! You’re learning so fast. It makes you all the more gorgeous to look at.”
“Okay. I’ll try it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“I need you to hold still.”
Lysithea tenses. “I’m scared.”
“Don’t be scared!” Hilda unsheathes the mascara brush. “This won’t hurt a bit.”
She leans in, daintily bringing the brush up to Lysithea’s eyes. The girl watches in terror, instinctively backing away. Hilda grabs her and holds her in place.
“You can’t move,” she says.
“You’re scaring me,” Lysithea protests. She shies away like a cat from water. Hilda can practically see her figurative tail fluffed up in fear. She worries she might get bitten.
“I can’t be gentle if you keep moving.”
“If this is what being older is like, I changed my mind about growing up,” Lysithea whines as the other girl finally manages to coat her lashes in black.
“I’m already done. Now, will you freak out if I put foundation on?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
She nods. “Yes.”
“Alright. Here I come.” Hilda moves in with a sponge in hand. Again, Lysithea struggles against her, not enjoying it for even a second.
“It feels so gross,” she says.
“You get used to it.”
“It’s like you’re making my skin heavier.”
“Just relax, Lys! This will be over before you know it.”
Eventually, Hilda manages to get somewhat of a finished look onto Lysithea. As much as she wants to play with her canvas more, she isn’t sure if Lysithea can handle anymore eyeshadow. So she sets the girl up in front of the mirror to admire her hard work.
“What do you think?” Hilda asks eagerly.
Lysithea stares at herself in the mirror, jaw slack in awe. She brings a single finger up to touch her own cheek as if to make sure it is actually herself she is looking at.
“Wow,” she says, “I look so different.”
“In a good way?”
She nods. “Yes.”
“How do you feel?”
“I feel more like a woman.”
“Because you are a woman! If a little makeup helps convince you of that, then I’d be more than willing to teach you how. I can even go out shopping with you. We can choose all the colors to match your complexion.”
Lysithea smiles, and Hilda nearly melts at the sight. “Thank you, Hilda. I appreciate this.”
“Anytime, my dear. You deserve it!”
----
There would be no way for Hilda to anticipate all that would happen in the next five years, much less predict what would bring her back to the abandoned Garreg Mach after all that time. Perhaps it was that silly promise Claude made. Maybe it was the fleeting feeling of hope, or a secret longing to see her friends.
Now, Hilda stands by her former classmates, feeling bittersweet and covered in blood.
Claude grins. "Now, this is a class reunion."
"I was hoping it would be under better circumstances," says Lorenz.
Byleth is strangely silent. Well, quieter than usual. They stare thoughtfully into the distance. Claude goes off to speak to them.
By now, everything has quieted down, and the night has settled in. All that’s left for them to do is lick their wounds and rest. Marianne sits next to Leonie, scolding her for getting herself hurt. Ignatz repairs his broken bow while Raphael sheds his bloody armor.
Hilda looks over to see Lysithea. In the heat of the battle, Hilda hadn't had the chance to get a full look at Lysithea. Now, she sees the woman in her full glory. Her hair has gotten longer, and she's changed her style to match her maturity. She's covered in blood, and most importantly, she is gorgeous. It takes Hilda a moment to realize that the little girl she’d once taught to braid hair so many years ago is standing before her, now a grown woman.
Without realizing it, Hilda is already approaching her. Her legs seem to move on their own. Lysithea looks up, and they make eye contact. There is no turning back now. The woman smiles weakly at her.
"Lysithea, I'm so glad you came," Hilda says, throwing her arms around her friend.
"Of course I came. I needed to see you again. I'm glad you're okay." Lysithea squeezes her back. At that moment, Hilda notices something else. Namely, Lysithea's ample chest directly against her head.
"You got taller."
"I did. Why do you mention that?"
Honestly, it’s hard not to notice, but Hilda digresses. A ping of jealousy swirls in her chest. "No reason. It just makes you very... tall."
"I'm not sure how, but I did get a little taller, didn't I? Puberty is more confusing than any magic I've come across in my years of studying."
A little. Only a little? Once the same height, Lysithea now towers over Hilda. Hilda keeps any ill thoughts to herself. Instead, she smiles and brushes her hair back cooly. She clears her throat as she gets back into character. "You did, but that's a good thing! I didn't think it was possible, but you're somehow even more beautiful now."
"Only because you taught me how," Lysithea replies sincerely.
"No. Don't say that. You have such natural beauty. And I don't just say that about anybody!"
“Oh, please. You say it to Claude all the time.”
“Have you seen Claude?”
She purses her lip in thought. “Fair enough. I’m glad to have made your list.”
“Oh, you’ve made much more than that.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, uh…” Hilda genuinely has no idea what she meant. “Oh, you know.”
“I don’t. Hence why I asked,” Lysithea answers.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
After that, the two make a point to spend more time together. Hilda talks about her time with Claude and helping the Goneril territory. Lysithea talks about her own journey, specifically her studies in magic and crests. Hilda does not have a clue about what she discusses, but she enjoys listening. They spend many nights in the same room just enjoying each other’s company.
----
Byleth pairs Hilda and Lysithea together for a third time. The first battle, Hilda didn’t question it. The second time, it didn’t make much sense. By the third time, Hilda was suspicious.
"To protect Lysithea," Byleth had insisted, but Hilda feels like she’s the one being protected.
"Watch out!" Lysithea screams as she blasts dark magic at an oncoming pegasus knight. The blast crackles as it hits the rider. They fall out of the air while the pegasus flies away in fear. Hilda hadn’t even realized she’d been daydreaming.
“What are you doing?” Lysithea scolds her, “You almost got yourself killed!”
“I’m sorry. There was something in my eye,” Hilda lies. She grabs her axe and hacks into the nearest soldier, who screams in agony as they meet their untimely death. Hilda puts her foot on their chest and peels them off of her axe.
Afterwards, the battle is won, but no one feels victorious. Most limp back. Marianne helps the gravely wounded; Lysithea takes care of those with less urgent needs, as her healing magic is not as strong as Marianne’s.
Hilda patiently waits her turn. Eventually, the first aid tent clears out, and she makes her move. She approaches the first aid tent where Lysithea quietly cleans up after herself. Then, Hilda bursts in. In one swooping motion, she dramatically sprawls herself across the nearest cot and swoons.
“Oh, Lysithea,” she croons, feigning an injury, “I’m so hurt. I need medical attention immediately.”
Lysithea frowns at her. “Do you? Or do you just want attention?”
Hilda grins. “I don’t want attention. I need attention. Who are you to deny me?”
“I have others to help, you know.”
“But are any of them as beautiful as me?” She winks cheekily.
“I suppose not, but I am not one to give special treatment based on looks. I’m not Sylvain.”
“Ouch,” she says, now needing someone to tend to her bruised ego, “What about special treatment because I’m your favorite girl in the whole wide world?”
“You think you’re my favorite?” Lysithea asks, a hint of playful suspicion in her voice.
“At least I'd like to be.”
“You’re very subtle. Are you sure you don’t have something to confess to me?”
Hilda laughs nervously. “You want me to confess to you?”
“I do. I’m tired of your endless flirting. You’ve been back and forth with this since we first saw each other at Garreg Mach.” Lysithea steps closer so that they are almost touching. She leans down and gazes at Hilda. “Does it mean something or not? I’m tired of waiting.”
Hilda can barely breathe. “Oh. Um. I flirt with everyone. You know that.”
Lysithea puts a sobering hand on her chin. Her gaze is sharp, and Hilda quivers with an anticipation she can’t name. “Hilda, do you have feelings for me?”
“Of course I do. You’re my friend.”
“You know that’s not what I was asking.”
“Well, what were you asking?”
Lysithea sighs. “Hilda, I’m going to kiss you now.”
Hilda squeaks, “Oh-”
Their lips meet, and Hilda melts into her touch. She brings her arms around Lysithea to pull her closer. Lysithea leans into the embrace, going so far as to join Hilda atop the cot. Years of longing come spilling out.
And once again, they are two teenagers lying in bed together as they did many years ago.