Chapter Text
Sun shines on Garreg Mach differently than in other places, this Myrrhine has known her entire life. Whether it's coming home from a mission, training alone in the hall, or watching from her room in her mother’s suite, the elevation makes the sun hug the grey stone in all the right places. It’s almost welcoming to her, but the inside is more suffocating. Unlike when the sun hits the grey stone and warms it to the touch, when it hits the candy-colored stained glass the light shatters into colors that marvel people, but allow them to become distracted. Taken over by the beauty of the church, its popularity, and splendor, that one cannot notice its hidden intentions.
Normally not one to shy away from sending her daughter off on missions, Rhea had kept her away from the field for months because of the new session of the Officer’s Academy. She had only been made known about her upcoming enrollment two months prior when her mother had grabbed her from her training. It was because of the enrollment of the nation’s scions that she was to attend, with the expressed purpose from her mother being to ‘prepare herself for the responsibilities of engaging with Fodlan’s leaders’. Myrrhine had no idea what to expect, other than remaining separate yet equal from the other students. Independent class, joint lectures with each house, residing in the dormitories, yet being pointedly ‘different’.
So, Myrrhine wasn’t all that worried about the upcoming year, because as far as she was concerned - nothing would be changing from her normal life. The past twenty years had been spent the same way as always, and no new students would change that. Her mother advised her to dress modestly during the orientation events, as to prevent noble and common families alike from attempting to sway the daughter of the archbishop; and apart from that giving her a bit of freedom amidst the chaos, it gave her… a different kind of difficulty.
“Hey!” the lavender-haired man yelled back at her, jostling Myrrhine’s attention back to the present moment. He was of equal height to the above-average myrrhine, but with a slender frame that felt more befitting a woman. A noble whose name she forgot, he’d managed to argue his way into getting Myrrhine to work, by helping him move his bags to his dormitory room. She was much more muscular compared to him, but so were other women here - what made her stand out? What made her seem easier to push around compared to the others? She wouldn’t have to dwell on it for much longer as they arrived at the man’s room rather quickly.
“Lorenz..” Myrrhine read his nameplate without realizing it was out loud.
“Lorenz Hellman Gloucster!” A new voice perked up from the side of them, deeper but more pleasant. Lorenz himself found it within his ability to groan at the intrusion, where both parties turned to face the new intrusion. He was a young man of average height, dark tanned skin, and wavy hair in a deep warm brown with one braided section that barely reached his shoulder. He pretended to pout at Lorenz, before turning to smile at Myrrhine. “You’re a student here yourself, aren’t you? I don’t see how you allow this ruffian to put you to work.”The boy spoke, taking the box out of Myrrhine’s hands with an audible exclamation as he set it down on the ground. It must’ve been rather heavy to him, though it’d been nor much weight to her.
“I-” Turning to Lorenz, his face was a bright red, while the other boy was grinning from ear to ear. “I wouldn’t have- I didn’t-”
“It’s alright.” Myrrhine found herself breaking the silence and the tension. “He didn’t know, and I like to help people.” She turned to reassure the man who’d been rude to her earlier. She knew who he was when he demanded her assistance, because of the uncle who’d primed her on fodlan’s changing political situation. He was the son of a roundtable noble, and even though arguably her position was higher - Myrrhine thought it important to assist him. That, and she genuinely did enjoy helping others.She’d picked up the box again from the ground and moved it inside, while the two men chatted behind her. Lorenz remained red-faced when she returned, and the other man decided to strike up a conversation.
“I don’t imagine we’ve met. I’m not so public in my appearances as my friend is here.” He stood rather casually, arms reaching up and behind his head as he rocked slowly on his heels. “I’m Claude von Reigan. Grandson of the leader of the alliance, but” he extended the ‘but’ in that sentence,” really I don’t care about all that mess. Let’s have a good two years together.” He offered a hand to her, and though on the inside it was Myrrhine’s turn to look shocked - on the outside was a different story. She shook his hand firmly, and Claude took a step back. “Stoic. I like it. Seems Lorenz should try to learn from you in the ‘washing off embarrassment department’ ” Ah, there it was.
Myrrhine had always been a silent child. From what her mother had been able to tell her, there was a great fire on the day she was born, when her father was killed and the monastery had to be rebuilt. Both mother and child nearly died, but were saved by the grace of the goddess.. however, Myrrhine was unable to properly emote. Maybe amidst the flames, she’d cried all of her emotions out on that one day - but something within her told Myrrhine that she’d never learn the truth about what really happened. Claude was making some kind of joke that Lorenz was reacting to when a flurry of running came up from behind them.
Myrrhine had few blood relatives to speak of. She had a mother: beautiful, regal, with hair the color of moonlight and a voice so soothing she’d begged to be sung to sleep on restless nights; She had an uncle, though he hated being called as such in public - sharp edges and weary eyes from a life long-lived; His daughter - her cousin, which thankfully she was allowed to refer to her as such, ran alongside her much of her life - a constant playmate when others would come and go with her mother's whims. There was a woman who’d taught her everything - a second mother or an older sister in some ways, with strong arms, golden hair, and a face that looked at her with pity when the woman thought she wasn’t looking; and finally, a younger brother not by blood whom her mother had rescued from the throngs of war - a charity case some had whispered - but he treated her like a sister all the same.
Her uncle soon appeared behind them, getting the attention of the Gloucester heir.
“Sir Seteth!” He exclaimed at the haggard mess of the archbishop’s right-hand man, who was attempting to catch his breath while motioning for something. Myrrhine turned around and dove to his side at once, helping her uncle to his feet properly while Claude grabbed a cup of water from nearby to offer to the man. The man was either one of two things; refined and regal without a hair out of place or frazzled and messy whether within or without a battle. It seemed that today was one of the latter, as it usually was when the opening of the officer's academy drew closer and closer. Myrrhine stood next to her uncle and felt the eyes of the young Reigan on her as she waited for Seteth to recover.
“Child. The Archbishop requires your presence in her audience chambers as soon as possible. Meaning; right. now.” His words combined with his rushed appearance suddenly made sense now. He’d been sent running to grab her for whatever reason had deemed her presence necessary. Her mother was good on punctual arrivals, but it was hardly ever that she needed to call upon her daughter like this. Something must have happened. Myrrhine nodded.
“I see. I’m sorry to cut our introductions short, but I have to go.” Her longest sentence spoken to the two of them, it caught both men off-guard as they watched the pair retreat down the hallway, rushed but not running. Silence passed between them for a moment until Claude made a strangled noise with his throat and fell into a crouch.
“We didn’t get her name.” He whined, looking up at the slightly taken aback Gloucster heir. Lorenz didn’t change his expression but returned his gaze to the hallway, where both figures had now vanished completely. Claude recovered and stood back up, watching the spot as well before saying “I have a feeling that we’re going to see more of her though.” Then turning to leave, entering his own room and leaving Lorenz to do the same.
Myrrhine followed her uncle out of the dorms, confused but choosing not to ask Seteth anything about what was happening. She’d never been that kind of child, curiosity was something she had very little of - but did not lack. Compared to his own daughter, who had enough curiosity for the both of them - the two cousins were like night and day. They weaved through the students, knights, faithful, and families as they made their way to the audience room for the Archbishop of the church. Myrrhine felt a bit of anxiety well up within her, as they arrived to closed doors with Catherine and Cyril waiting outside.
“Myrrhine!” Cyril exclaimed as he saw the two approach. Catherine as well, turned to look but her face was pale as though she didn’t like what was about to happen.
“What’s going on?” Myrrhine finally asked, turning to look between her brother, Catherine, and Seteth. Seteth walked ahead of her to open the double doors leading into the audience chamber, choosing not to answer her question. Catherine bit at her nails as voices could be heard from inside the chamber.
“I know she’s alive now Rhea! You can’t keep her from me, she’s my daughter as well!” A man’s voice, deep and rumbling, shouted out at her unseen mother.
“You left!You decided to die that night and as far as I’m concerned you did. Alois might have vouched for you coming back here but I don’t want you going anywhere near her.” Those words contradicted what Seteth had said to bring her there. Her uncle was looking rather serious as he motioned for her to enter the room. As much as she wanted to fight back, since it seemed as though she wasn’t supposed to be there - she entered anyway.
The argument continued between the two of them. Her mother looked to be in the middle of getting ready for the opening ceremonies that night, her long green hair half done up, and dressed only in the white dress that laid under all of her glittering regalia.
The man in front of her was dressed in road leathers befitting a mercenary, the kind of people that she’d worked with a few times on missions for the church. He… he had hair the same color as her own, the color of tailtean wheat at sunrise, but it was shaved all around except for a mohawk-ponytail that didn’t go much farther past the end of his skull. She’d never seen this man before, but something about him made her chest ache as she took steps further in. Rhea noticed her appearance only as the doors behind her closed, a glimpse of her brother keying the woman into why her daughter suddenly appeared.
At her sudden silence, the man turned, and Myrrhine’s ache deepened. She’d never met him before, but his face was so familiar that it was if he’d always been there. It was in her mirror that she saw him, his face so closely looked like her own. Who was he? Who was he?
“Who?” The question tumbled out of her, shock so evident on her face that her mother seemed primed to come to her side. However, the man did it before she could. He ran to her, taking her in his arms and for some reason it made her feel… whole. Like a part of her that had been missing her entire life had suddenly appeared. Tears were falling, then sobs echoed from her mouth in hiccups and wails. The man in front of her brought all of this out of her.
“I’m here now. I can’t believe I ever left.” He spoke as he rubbed her back to soothe her. “I’m your father. I- I should have been here. I ran away only because I thought it’d be safer that way.” Though infants did not retain memories the way that children did, because she was different than human (which she knew from birth), she remembered echoes of this man. Her father. He couldn’t be lying to her, in the way her face resembled his own. Her mother was not so tall, and could not build muscle the way she did - but this man was. He pulled away only so far as to cradle her face in his hands. He had scars and lines of age and weathering, but he smiled at her so full of warmth as she managed to dry her tears.
Rhea, who stood behind them and watched this heartfeld moment looked conflicted. She didn’t want this to happen - to have him here, and to have him meet her. He could have done work for her but stayed far enough away from Myrrhine so the two would never have a chance to meet. She would have gladly clipped her daughter’s wings if it meant that their worlds never collided but - but her daughter looked genuinely happy. An expression that she hadn’t seen for years. Seteth was likely awaiting a punishment for bringing her here dispite Rhea’s known wishes but it was enough. She’d let him off the hook. As her daughter dried her tears, Rhea motioned for the young woman to come her way, which she did without question. Her daughter was loyal, and thankfully she’d never leave her side to chase after a man - no matter who he was to her.
“My daughter. I’m sorry for the argument that you heard earlier. I feel as though I should introduce the two of you now. Myrrhine, this man is your father. Jeralt Eisner. He is to reclaim his old position as Captain of the Knights of Seiros, and thus…” She sighed internally, collecting herself before speaking again, “He will be around much more often. Jeralt, this is Myrrhine, our daughter.”