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Mercedes, arguably, has the most important job out of any of the Blue Lions squad members. She has the specific duty of keeping all of her friends and allies alive, despite their multitude of ailments, injuries, and troublesome personalities. Felix, for example, always insists on sparring with his fellow Blue Lions to not only sharpen his own skills, but to improve his sparring partner’s as well. Although Felix always winds up victorious in his battles with nary a scratch on him during sparring matches at the Academy, the real battles are a different matter entirely. As is his nature, the raven-haired swordsman frequently rushes headlong into his own battles before rushing to aid Ingrid or Annette if either is troubled. Ingrid, similarly, jumps to the aid of Felix and Dimitri when she senses it is needed. The two childhood friends have earned themselves many injuries and quite a few scars protecting one another in this manner. Mercedes can see the bonds between the two deepening as the days stretch on.
“If you get injured, simply say the word and I’ll patch you up straight away!” Mercedes always calls, especially before a major battle. There have been many instances where Mercedes has been the main contributing force in determining victory or crippling defeat for the Blue Lions. In one particular battle alone, Mercedes felt the brunt of war, clutching Sylvain tightly to her body as she pressed her hands firmly against an open wound in his chest, infusing her bright white magic into the redheaded flirt. They couldn’t lose Sylvain, not here and not this way…. With Mercedes’ magic combined with Ashe’s knowledge of herbs, she managed to bring Sylvain back from the brink of death on the site of a raging battlefield.
“Mercedes?” Sylvain questions, his head heavy and his voice thick as he gazes upwards at the female healer.
Mercedes gives Sylvain a slap on the cheek for good measure, her hands stained with his blood.
“Don’t you ever scare us like that again!” she chastises, relief flooding over her features at hearing his voice.
“Yes, ma’am,” he concedes, exhaustion evident in his tone of voice as he eagerly drinks from the water flask Mercedes offers him.
That had been far too close for comfort. If they had lost Sylvain…. Mercedes would have never forgiven herself.
Sometimes the nightmares of losing them, of not being good enough plague her dreams. She holds, sometimes literally, the lives and potential deaths of her squadmates every day in her own two hands. It is only natural that the close calls would affect her, would haunt her in sleep, would make her keep a closer eye on Sylvain, Felix, Ashe, and the like. Felix and Sylvain have the macho behavior and almost the need to throw themselves into battle and peril at every turn. Ashe, meanwhile, is smaller and only skilled in long-range attacks with his bow, making him an easier and more frequent target. Annette and Mercedes often find themselves fussing over the more tender-hearted adopted son of Lord Lonato, making sure to keep the silver-haired, freckled bowman in their sights at all times. Although Mercedes could simply take her comrades to Manuela in the infirmary, she would never forgive herself if she couldn’t save them all. Sylvain’s close call was the last straw. Never again.