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Hanneman was always known for being precise, responsible and orderly. He'd go to bed at 8, wake up at 5 and tend to his daily duties. Although recently he has found it difficult to do do any of this, he'd often find himself laying awake at night unable to rest, causing him to sleep in and throw off his entire day. Today was no different, just after Hanneman finished reading through a few important papers, he attempted to rest, but to no avail. Which led him to now, walking around the broken monastery late at night.
It was unsettling, the corridors once filled with students brimming with excitement and knowledge, now only held dust and the vessels of those who are somehow surviving this dreadful war. He walked further into the night sky, eventually landing him on the bridge leading to the cathedral. In the distance he saw a figure, one that was very recognizable to his eyes.
"Manuela?" He asked once he eventually made it near her earshot, snapping her out of her thoughts.
"Oh, Hanneman, it's just you. You shouldn't scare a woman like that, you know. I almost thought you were a brigand." She spoke with her usual demeanor.
"Ah, my apologies Manuela. I was only surprised to see you here at such a late hour."
"Me? I should be the one who's surprised, I always remember you being very particular on your sleep schedule whenever we'd go out drinking." Manuela sat on the railing of the bridge, looking down to the trees below. "So what brought you out here tonight?"
"Just had trouble sleeping, that's all. Thought a walk might calm my nerves." He joined her on the rail, looking up at the sky.
There was a bright star right above them and for a moment he wondered if it could be Sothis looking down at the earth below, but who'd want to do such a thing at a time like now? Where blood stained the grass with red, sinking into the core of all living souls. Hanneman shook his head, he had come out here to get away from such thoughts.
"So what brings you here?" He asked, turning to Manuela.
"Surprisingly the same as you. I... Haven't been able to rest in my quarters for a while now. Not because I don't want to, but because there has been a lot of work to do around here. I finally got the night off yet I still can't rest, how ironic, right?"
Hanneman nodded his head in agreement. "I heard of a special herb used for that exact ailment." He began.
"So what? You think I should just go and get the herb? Even after telling you how busy I am?!"
"What? No, I-" He cut himself off, letting out a deep sigh and rubbing the bridge of his nose. This was not what he intended to do right now. "My, apologies, Manuela. I swear to you I did not mean any of that, only that I wish to see you healthy and able to get the rest you so deserve."
Manuela looked and him suspiciously, but soon too let out a groan.
"Goddess, how do you even put up with me?" She murmured under her breath. "I should be the one apologizing Hanneman. I've just been so... Tense lately and I haven't been able to do anything about it. I can't ever take a break, there's always someone who needs medical attention, weather it be a wound from battle or a roaming illness."
Hanneman nodded in agreement. "It's quite alright Manuela, I can only imagine what you suffer through each day, the stress of having a soldier dying in the same room as you... Well, it's something I'd rather not face."
The songstress stared into the distance until a small whine could be heard from her.
"Manuela?" Hanneman asked, looking over to his collogue.
"I'm sorry." She finally whimpered out. "I'm sorry- I know I'm undeserving of the privilege to speak of my emotions- after all I've done... All I've failed to do..."
Despite not fully understanding what she was speaking of, Hanneman scooted closer, resting a hand against her shoulder. "Whatever it is Manuela, I assure you you may speak to me of it."
Manuela now held her face in her hands, hiding the makeup now streaming down her cheeks. "I don't know if I can handle it much longer, everyday having soldiers at your feet, begging for their lives... There's only so much I can do when there's a lance piercing through their ribcage!" She let out a sob, it was odd to witness her in such an emotional state. Of course, Manuela was always emotional, but it was always emotion of red; fury, anger, passion... Never something so blue. It felt unnatural to witness it. "And then their families, their friends! 'Has Hector made it through yet?' 'Did Venessa finally awaken?' I remember saying that once someone faces death, they find out who they are and if they can do it again... But what if they never get the chance to do so? What if they pass, filled with regrets?" Although her tears were now dried, the aura stayed, depression and resentment filled the night sky. "But how could you understand..? You study what you love, cooped up in your little chamber, inexperienced to what happens in the room across..." Hanneman looked at her solemnly, a sense of understanding beginning to boil.
"I am unsure of how to respond, Manuela... In truth, you are right, I have never had such an experiences... Although there was one time." Manuela looked up to him, curious as to what he could be referring to. "Of course, as you know I belonged to the von Essar land many years ago, during that time I had a younger sister who I held dear to my heart..." He smiled up to the sky, reminiscing his early life. "She was a bundle of joy, always quick with her words, strong and vibrant, she even reminds me of you a bit." Manuela blushed slightly at the comment, but allowed him to go on. "Crests were very prevalent and very crucial to our house, so when they discovered that my sister bore no crest... Well, you could say it was something of a tragedy. My parents, unsure of what to do, believed that although she was crestless, she may have been able to bare a child with one, since the prominent-crest-bearing-Essar blood ran through her. She was eventually married off to a noble in desperate need of social status, hoping they could bear a child with a crest... "
He paused, no longer smiling. "She eventually passed... the amount of children, the pressure of crests... It was too much on her. I eventually left to Garreg Mach, disowning my title and devoting myself to allow crests to be possible for all."
"Oh Hanneman..." Manuela began. "I am... Terribly sorry. There truly are no other words I can say..."
"No, don't be. You weren't the cause of it, none of this is because of you... Still, it is nice to hear you say that." Hanneman now faced Manuela, the edges of his mustache rising. "You know, it's refreshing to see one such as yourself. Someone who fought through the status of crests, finding her own place in the world."
She smiled. "Gee Hanneman, you really know how to change conversation... Also... I'm sorry, for saying you're 'cooped up in your little chamber' and inexperienced to the horrors of this world... And it's admirable that you do what you love, and for such a pure reason too. I hate seeing others suffer, and so that's why I work so hard to help them get a second shot at life. I shouldn't speak so ill of my position, after all there are many out there relying on what I do to keep themselves and others alive."
"It's quite alright, Manuela. In fact, I'd say it would be weird if you felt happy about your position in this war." He laughed slightly, but paused as to not make the conversation too light. "It's getting late, we should return before Seteth scolds us."
Manuela laughed. "Ah, that man can never catch a break can he?"
The two left, speaking about whatever came to mind as they made their way back to their rooms. The conversation eventually led to the two bickering as always, but once Hanneman shut the door, he felt an odd feeling of warmth arise in his core.
He decided to attempt sleeping it off.