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Something was amiss.
Fewer words of encouragement filled the tense atmosphere of the abandoned monastery, accentuating the dreariness that was brought about by low-hanging clouds. The typical echoes of laughter that bounded wildly through the hallways now left them cold and desolate, replaced by anxious sighs and dark eye bags. Even classrooms long-forgotten collected enough dust to lodge into the throats of those remaining, smothering out the memories of what used to be.
Marianne was well aware of their situation. They’d been lucky that they’d found the Professor when they did, but that of course did not solve all their problems. The Deer had already encountered a handful of run-ins with former classmates, leaving their minds to wander and wither with the possibilities of “what ifs.” With each battle, their enemies grew stronger, faster, smarter - but fewer turned up with each retreat the Deers sent them running for.
At first, one could hardly tell the difference.
Hilda’s usual chirpy self would exclaim wildly, puffing out her chest and adjusting her hair to her liking, assuring each member that their victory was absolute - that there was no way they would be able to lose. They were always just too clever or too fast for the units they were up against.
“Our plan will work; we’ve got the Master of Schemes on our team!”
“Did you see that? I told you we’d gain this ground easily!”
“Guys, really, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“We’re gonna be okay.”
Marianne was the first to notice.
Naturally, as her partner, she would notice Hilda’s minor changes. From the way she would spend a few minutes less each day getting ready, to the way her hand would sometimes tremble in her own before steeling itself. At first, she’d chalked it up to nerves; duties around their base of operations were increasing and, with that, the need for all to pitch in. And while Hilda had matured since her academy days of offloading undesirable work onto others, she’d found a new way of managing work; entrusting work to others based on their skill, including herself, rather than the first poor soul who caught her eye. All seemed well for some time.
That is, aside from the hiccups in providing group encouragement from Hilda during meetings, things remained relatively normal. Marianne’s worries would not alleviate themselves, though, as she found herself more often than not craving to hear her girlfriend’s uplifting words that always felt too dry and cracked coming from her own mouth. She was never one to pull attention towards herself, opting to gather words rather than spread them. But with each moon that came and went, Marianne found herself filling in the silence that Hilda left in her wake.
“Everything will turn out for the better.”
And for a bit, that seemed to do the trick. Hilda’s shoulders would lose their rigidness and her hands would unfurl from her lap, choosing to seek out the comfort of her partner from under the conference table. Even after all these years, Marianne still found herself blushing at such a gentle act of affection. Hilda’s thumb remained where it always had, rubbing the side of her hand; repetitive, smooth, familiar.
The Battle at Gronder changed things.
Claude was critically wounded in battle. They had narrowly secured the victory, riding on the sheer luck of their tactician’s plan, but it was an event hardly worth celebrating as they rushed to tend to his condition. He would live, no doubt, but not without some well-needed rest and constant care. The Deer would be down for the count, but thankfully the Professor volunteered to fully lead their troops until then.
Hilda’s entire demeanor changed rapidly.
It began almost immediately. She would refuse to cling to the fleeting warmth of their shared bed in the early mornings, often rising before the sun to “get things situated.” When Marianne heard those words, she knew she wouldn’t be seeing her partner until the late hours of the evening, when she sat up sewing damaged clothing from the troops while waiting for her return. On those days, she could hardly get more than a handful of words in before Hilda would collapse on their bed, already itching to get back to the cycle she’d put herself in. All Marianne could do was ensure her girlfriend was comfortable, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead when words failed to leave her lungs.
“She hasn’t asked me to complete any tasks for her in a while.”
“Odd, isn’t it?”
“I wonder what’s going on.”
“Maybe there isn’t anything she needs for us to do?”
“There’s always something that needs to be done around here.”
It didn’t take long for talk to begin circling the grounds, hushed murmurs laced with concern and eyes darting over shoulders. Each time she passed and heard them, the pit in Marianne’s stomach would grow. And when word reached the other Deer, they responded immediately. If there was one good thing their group was known for in these troubling times, it would be their spontaneity. It lit a fire within Marianne that she didn’t think existed.
With only one meeting between them all and a few forgery tips from Claude in the infirmary, Marianne led their plan to intervene. Being the head of the discussion was a new experience for her, and while she would’ve preferred to savor and learn from the moment as that fire burned in her stomach and filled her lungs with smoke… She found herself much more in her element as each of them crowded around Ignatz, watching him replicate letters like art.
“I’m never doing this again,” he complained, a small smile sneaking on the edge of his lips.
And that’s how Marianne found herself now, anxiously sitting in the gardens of the ex-academy, awaiting the arrival of her partner who received an “urgent letter” from one of their scouts that had briefed the situation. This letter encouraged Hilda to seek out her girlfriend in the gardens at sundown for the full report. It ate at Marianne’s insides to deceive Hilda this way, her hands wringing one another in a repetitive motion, but it was the only plan their group agreed would work the quickest. She ultimately had the final say on the plan, so why was the guilt so consuming? Even Raphael’s hand on her shoulder and compassionate words felt so far away now.
“Just be honest with her and pretty soon, she’ll be back to normal in no time,” he said, his hand giving Marianne’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“Unless she’s being utterly stubborn, then we’ll all need to get involved,” Lorenz chimed in shortly after, which had earned him a playful shove from Lysithea. Their shared laughter still echoed in her head as Leonie brought them back to focus.
Like clockwork, Hilda hurried into the gardens just as the sun was beginning to dip into the horizon, kissing the Earth as the day came to a close and pulling Marianne back to the present. While her usual outfit was fairly well kept, the same could not be said about herself. Dark eye bags were beginning to form under her dulling eyes, contrasting against her pale skin. She looked as though she were fighting her way through a haze, seeing burdens long since past as she looked somewhere far off. Her confident stride had flaked away, shoulders curling in as though they carried the weight of the world upon them and they were beginning to crack beneath the pressure. Marianne refused to leave this garden without ensuring they would carry this burden together, whatever it may be that had burrowed itself so deeply into her partner’s heart. She would ensure this curse that had afflicted her lover would not stay, lest she adds to the growing list of prayers to the Goddess.
Marianne rose to receive her lover with warm arms and Hilda complied with a crinkle of a smile in her eyes, the aura around her softening as they embraced before exchanging quick kisses on the cheek.
“I received the letter and cleared enough time for us to talk it over,” Hilda jumped straight in as they seated themselves on the blanket prepared for them. A few pastries were collected on a simple dish, embellished with the silhouettes of forget-me-nots, as their tea sent still fresh wisps of vapor towards the heavens. The collection seemed to bewilder Hilda as they seated themselves, yet she bit back any inquiries in what Marianne assumed was for exchange in information.
Hilda had spoken less since this all began, choosing to collect words in the pockets of her mind rather than engage with them. Marianne thought it absurd for someone so loquacious to stay nearly as silent as she or use fewer than a handful of words at a time. These were perhaps the most words she’d heard Hilda say at once in the past seven moons or so.
“Ah… That…” Marianne started, sitting on her legs before bringing her own cup onto her lap. In truth, she had no idea how to begin, each worry she’d swallowed down bubbling to the forefront of her mind simultaneously. She thought that she may have bitten off more than she could chew, that perhaps she’d used up all her energy leading the planning of this intervention… Before she looked upon her partner. Seeing Hilda so unlike herself nearly broke her heart in two and the words seemed to flow naturally from her with little planning.
“There is no scout, there is no letter, and there is no report.”
Hilda’s brows pulled together and her smile dimmed some, yet that did not stop her from reaching to grab a pastry in one hand and begin to rise, likely to move onto a task that demanded her attention more, “Mari, please, I don’t have time for this-”
Marianne’s hand flew to Hilda’s and held on, gentle yet firm, trying to ease her to seat herself once more, “That isn’t true! I’ve ensured all the current pending tasks were being overseen by one of our classmates. You have a clear schedule, enough to settle down and listen to me.” And for a moment, they remained there, still as the boulders that collected dust in the old Cathedral not far from where they were. It didn’t take Hilda long to mull over the options, before settling herself down once more, allowing her hand to twist and hold her partner’s own in return.
“We’re all deeply concerned about how you’ve been acting lately-”
“I’m fine,” Hilda immediately interjected, nibbling on her pastry. “Just doing my job.”
“When was the last time you slept soundly?”
“Psh,” she had to bite back a bit of a bitter snort, “There’s no sound sleeping in war, Mari.”
“Hil… Please tell me what’s wrong,” Marianne pleaded, squeezing the other’s hand. “You know I’m here for you always.”
Silence fell over them, accompanied only by the gentle breeze that promised nightfall and the distant songs of birds returning to their nests. Hilda frowned downwards at her lap, as though she could discern the hidden answers there while Marianne wished she could know what the other was thinking so that she could be of use. Though, eventually, Hilda let out a sigh, her hand coming up to rub at her own face.
“I’m sorry, Mari… I…” The words fell from her lips and she turned her head away, watching the leaves of the hedges shift and sway. Marianne put herself in Hilda’s shoes and offered her partner a gentle smile.
“Do not apologize for things you cannot control. I believe that was the first thing you ever taught me, was it not?” She finally said, her heart skipping a beat when Hilda turned back to face her, mirroring her soft smile.
“Hey… Since when did you start taking charge of conversations?” She teased lightly, reaching for another pastry. Marianne couldn’t remember the last time she’d truly seen the other have a full proper meal since the battle and kicked herself for it. Later, she’d ensure that a proper meal was prepared for Hilda. For now, though, she allowed herself to laugh softly, her cheeks burning from embarrassment.
“Around the same time that you needed me to. I would like to think that I have learned a lot, wouldn’t you say?”
And for those brief few moments, they laughed and held one another, forgetting the world surrounding them and the burdens they’ve had to endure. With the atmosphere less heavy, Hilda released Marianne’s hand and leaned back, shaking her head. The usual light in her eyes had briefly flickered back before the world came crashing like waves around them once more, and her smile finally fell.
“Claude almost died,” Hilda finally admitted in a quiet, meek voice; one that put the hairs on Marianne’s arms on end from how odd it sounded coming from her.
“... Yes,” she started slowly, grasping for words she wasn’t prepared to use, “but he is still alive and recovering. You may see him any time you wish if that is what’s-”
And perhaps she was jumping to conclusions a bit too swiftly, for Hilda cut her off with a hand wave and a shake of her head, “That… That isn’t it.” For a bit, the conversation died there, with the pair taking a moment to allow their words to settle between them as they sipped at their tea. Marianne was preparing to continue, but the words she planned out in her head failed to push past her chapped lips. Hilda soon took the cue to continue and, despite her dislike to be so vulnerable, allowed herself the comfort of leaning into it as she pressed her forehead down against Marianne’s shoulder.
“It just hit me that one of us could die at any given moment,” she started, staring off ahead of them at the colorful array of wildflowers that fought to push their way through the grounds of the garden. From red to purple and all shades in between, they bloomed in spite of the world around them, unaware that they would soon be cut down within the next few days by whoever was assigned to keep to the garden that week. “What good would going through all this be if we just failed?”
Marianne’s arm wrapped around Hilda’s frame, but she dared not interrupt the other as the words tumbled out of her. Her hand rested on Hilda’s waist, bringing them both closer to one another so that their position wasn’t so awkward.
“I want my contribution to be a lasting one if I were to die; I want us to be able to succeed. The more we fight, the harder that gets. I can’t shake…” Hilda paused, bringing her free hand up to her eyes and pressing down as if that would block out the memory replaying in her brain.
“Edel… She had no hesitation in trying to outright kill him. He’s so stupid. He should’ve run. He would’ve been dead if I hadn’t gotten there in time. What good is sacrificing yourself like that, Claude? We all need you…” She murmured, more to herself than to Marianne at this point, who felt the fabric on her shoulder grow damp. Her heart grew heavy and her hand moved to rub Hilda’s arm in the same way she always rubbed her hands.
“Just as we need you,” Marianne spoke up, laying her cheek against the top of her partner’s head. She hadn’t wanted to interrupt her, but the unrehearsed words fought through her throat and out of her mouth before she could stop them, “all of us.”
The only indication of a response from Hilda was a sniffle, to which Marianne took to continue forward, “If you overwork yourself and do not find time to rest, you risk falling just as easily. None of us want that. Please, allow us to help you work through this; we are a team.”
“It’s not that simple,” Hilda muttered with a bitter edge, more directed towards herself than her darling Deers. “The moment they see me like this, my image will shatter. The Hilda Valentine Goneril, not confident? Crying? I’d never hear the end of it.”
“Crying does not make you weak,” Marianne soothed, “you do not need to always be confident and strong.”
“That’s all I’m known for. That’s what I’m expected to be.”
“You could not be further from the truth,” Marianne said. She would chuckle if the circumstances weren’t playing on her heartstrings as they were. The irony of it all - it felt as though she were taking care of her past self. When all of her insecurities and fears trapped her in a bubble of self-doubt, isolating her from the rays of sunshine she came to learn were her allies all along. She wishes Hilda could see what she was seeing now. “You are brave, kind, beautiful, intelligent, strong, fierce, stubborn,” she said, gently tapping the edge of Hilda’s nose with her finger, “and you are human, just like the rest of us.”
“... Keep saying nice things about me, I think it’s healing me,” Hilda said with a little snort, wiping away at her eyes. Marianne gently pressed a kiss to the top of her head with her own little laugh.
“You have an entire lifetime of that. But perhaps I can begin early... Only if you allow us to help you work through your anxieties. I don’t think my heart could handle leading another meeting without you or Claude there,” she admitted, her cheeks flushed as she remembered every moment of bickering between the Deer over trying to concoct a plan.
“You led a meeting for this?” Hilda gawked before a very familiar, trouble-seeking smirk crept onto her face. “Well, now you’ve got to tell me all about it,” she pushed, already settling herself in a way where Marianne knew she wouldn’t be able to shake her off despite her best efforts.
And while this wouldn’t be the end, Marianne knew she was prepared to do whatever it took to bring back that light in Hilda’s eyes. She would work the rest of her life for it if it meant Hilda felt confident and content once more.
Even if it meant partaking in the gossip she loved hearing so much.