Work Text:
If you asked Larcei when she fell in love with Lene you wouldn't get an answer. Not because she didn't want to answer but because she genuinely didn't know. For her, a hard line between friendly and romantic feelings never existed and instead, the feelings changed gradually. Like a ripening fruit. Many people have tried to guess when that was. „Was it during one of your trips to the market?” „Was it when you saved her from that wyvern rider?” they asked to which Larcei shrugged her shoulders and replied „ I don't know. Maybe it was maybe it wasn't.” Maybe it didn't even happen in one moment. She knew she was slow when it came to those sorts of things. She wasn't like Lana who fell in love in an afternoon. She wasn't even sure when she realized her feelings. She could point out a rough timeframe of when it happened. Was it when she fought that wyvern rider, During that conversation about the future on the roof, or on one of those calm nights when she was guarding the camp? She simply didn't know. It was all very confusing and after what happened last time she was hesitant to name those feelings out of fear of losing someone again. And yet soon after she realized she had them she confessed without a second thought. And she didn't regret it. Not for a second.
Larcei knew the way she showed love was often odd. She considered training sessions and jumping in front of an enemy blade to be more romantic than flowers and kisses. And yet she knew Lene didn't mind. She complained about how she didn't take good enough care of herself sometimes when she got herself hurt but that was love too, wasn't it?