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1
Bernadetta bit her lip as she raised her bow. She glanced to the side, where Leonie was diligently firing away. Her arrows were all close to the center of the target, if not outright bullseyes. Would she think she was an incompetent hack if she couldn’t do that?!?
Bernadetta thought her offer to always be there to patch up Leonie’s clothes was a great one. A friend! A real friend! A friend who was kind, and silly, a little rough around the edges but always honest, and she was even handsome…
It was a little intimidating. Hanging out with a friend somewhere nice and safe, like in her room, while she had the soothing repetitive motions of sewing to keep her grounded, seemed like the best kind of friendship to her.
But Leonie had wanted to do things other than embroidery. Bernadetta’s gut had coiled, the pressure on, a sour taste filling her mouth, when Leonie asked her to train together. Would their friendship be over if she said no?
She had refused the first time. Leonie had just said “Maybe next time, then!” And after Leonie mentioned it casually a few times, never getting angry at her refusal or laughing at her fumbled excuses of how she was totally busy right now actually, Bernadetta had finally said yes.
So here she was, having not so much as taken an arrow out of her quiver yet.
Leonie fired once more, sweat dripping from her forehead and trickling down her neck as she aimed. THUNK! This one went wide, smacking into the backstop.
“Phew, I think that means it’s time for a break.” She totally caught Bernadetta staring at her, blatantly not doing any training of her own.
Leonie just raised an eyebrow. “I was hoping to do you a favor instead of the other way around for once, but you’d need to shoot for me to have any advice to give.”
“Y-you think I’m a bad shot? I mean, you’re right…”
“That’s not what I meant!” Leonie frowned.
Oh great, and now Bernadetta had accused her of secretly hating her out loud. Accused her of being a horrible, horrible person when she was the complete opposite.
“There’s always things a second pair of eyes can see that you couldn’t find on your own. You have no idea what your back muscles look like when you shoot, right? No one does. We don’t have eyes in the back of our heads.”
“Oh…”
“Captain Jeralt taught me that. I thought I was hot shit as a kid, but it took all of a second of watching me for him to point out about a dozen things wrong with my form, my grip, and even my gloves!”
Leonie wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.
“If you just want to watch me, that’s fine with me. You just being here is good enough for me.” She flashed her a grin.
Bernadetta felt a hot flash come over here. She fumbled for her water flask.
“MmmmMMM!”
After gulping down about half of it in one go, she was ready.
“I, uh, I did notice that the strap of your quiver is loose. It moves too much when you shoot, and when you go to draw, the arrows are at a weird angle.”
“Huh, that explains that last shot. I thought I was just getting tired and sloppy, not reaching back far enough. Thanks, Bernadetta.”
Bernadetta took another swig from her flask to hide the embarrassing amount of relief that flooded through her. Leonie wasn’t mad that she had told her something was wrong with her…
Leonie stretched, cooling down her arms and shoulders, arms above her head. She looked around, then paused.
“I might have to ask you for another favor… I forgot my flask. Could I have some of yours?”
Bernadetta handed it over before the sweat of her palms could make her drop it. Doing a friend a favor!
She watched as Leonie popped it open and drank. Instead of pouring it into her mouth like Bernadetta had expected, she put it directly to her lips.
What if I give her a cold? What if she drinks my backwash? Wait… Indirect kiss?!?!?
Bernadetta was going to have to wash it a dozen times to get those thoughts out of her head. No, she was going to need to buy a new flask entirely. In a different color.
2
This time, Bernadetta had convinced Leonie to just come to her room. No outdoors, no people possibly watching, nothing to trip on, no hot sun and sweat and water flasks.
Instead, Leonie had asked her to demonstrate an embroidery design.
“I don’t know if I’ll actually be able to pull it off, or what I’d do with something so cutesy, but you make it seem so fun. You always have this little smile on your face when you sew.”
Leonie had been watching her that intently? Embarrassing…
She did her best to demonstrate the stitches. Leonie knew the functional ones, but had never heard of the looped blanket stitch or the buillon rose knot.
Leonie was sitting close to her so she could see Bernadetta’s fabric and how her needle moved. She could feel her breath on the back of her neck. She shivered and—
Her needle jerked, stabbing her right in the tip of her finger that was supposed to be holding the cloth taut. She watched the blood well up. Well, it wasn’t like she was a stranger to getting blood stains out of things.
“Oh!”
And then a warm hand was grabbing her wrist, and her finger was in Leonie’s mouth.
She couldn’t have told anyone how long it lasted. It could have been a second. It could have been a minute. It could have been an hour.
“Mom always said saliva helps wounds heal faster. That’s why animals still do it; they haven’t figured out medicine or praying yet.”
Bernadetta made some sort of strained, prey-animal adjacent noise in response to that, still incoherent.
3
Bernadetta could admit that she maybe, just maybe, kind of possibly, had some kind of crush on Leonie. Just a little one. And yet it was why she found herself in this predicament. Crushes were scary. They made you do things like tell Leonie you had taken a few cooking classes and could help her with that fruit and herring tart she wanted to make with her fresh fish before they went bad.
It was true, technically. Her father had made her take those, since it was a skill proper for a woman to know. But also it wasn’t proper for a noble to stoop to chores… so maybe she was just supposed to know enough to know how to critique the servants…?
Well, she hadn’t told Leonie anything about the crush stuff, which was probably bad since you weren’t supposed to lie to your friends. But you also probably shouldn’t be crushing on them when they were just being nice to you.
It was too late now. She was in the kitchen, putting together a rough puff crust for the tart. Leonie was chopping away at the fish and fruit, butcher knife not discriminating in the least as it sliced and diced mercilessly.
“I feel like I should be singing a sea shanty or something,” Leonie mused as she chopped the head off yet another fish.
Bernadetta thought about it. She actually knew a few, had learned them for research and then tried to write some of her own for a pirate adventure story she had wanted to write once.
She looked around carefully, making sure the coast was clear.
“I’m only gonna do this once, so repeat after me…”
The shanty was raucous and silly, and Leonie bellowed it out so off-key and so unashamed of it that it was just too charming.
The energy carried them through the rest of the effort, throwing together all the ingredients to boil in a pot for the filling while the pastry rose.
Leonie had chosen a pot that was too small, and Bernadetta had been left to tend it while Leonie ran off to rifle for some ingredient that wasn’t on their list, but that she insisted would give it the finishing touch it needed.
The filling was boiling ominously, angrily. She hurriedly pulled it from the flame, but the thick metal of the pot was holding on to too much of the heat.
It bubbled and popped, spewing thick, fishy-smelling filling everywhere.
LID!
When Leonie returned, things were mostly under control. They got the filling into the pastry, and into the wood-fired oven.
They both leaned against the counter and sighed in relief.
“Oh, you missed a spot.”
Leonie licked her thumb and then leaned in, so close their noses were almost touching. She squinted and raised her thumb to Bernadetta’s cheek, wiping up a glob of filling that had escaped her hurried cleaning attempt.
Then she popped her thumb back into her mouth.
“It’d be a shame to let even a single drop go to waste!”
4
Good times never lasted, of course. War was looming, and they couldn’t exactly stay at the Monastery given the, well, everything.
Bernadetta didn’t really have a plan beyond going inside and never coming back out. Everything was just too horrible.
Somehow, Leonie knew when she was about to leave.
She caught her in the hall and grabbed her by the shoulder.
“Bernadetta… take care of yourself, okay? And don’t forget the promise we made with the Professor.”
Then Leonie leaned in, and pressed her lips to Bernadetta’s cheek. Then she was gone.
Their promise…
It felt like that kiss on the cheek was another promise…
Maybe she wouldn’t stay inside forever. Just for five years.
5
Bernadetta had ended up with a very long list of the pros and cons of showing up to the promised reunion. Leonie could be there. That one was on both lists.
Leonie could have meant something. Leonie could have forgotten about her. Leonie could have meant nothing. Bernadetta could die instantly when she entered the chaos that was the present Fódlan. There could be no one else there, period.
But in the end, even without Leonie, Bernadetta knew what she had to do. She had to show up, and deal with whatever was there. For the Professor. For Fódlan.
The bandits appeared out of nowhere, but they dropped like flies.
It felt too easy, so of course reinforcements appeared.
Bernadetta gulped, cornered, no melee weapon in sight, just her and her bow and a bandit with a sword.
She heard hoof beats behind her as a javelin whizzed past her ear.
“Pure grit!”
Bernadetta’s heart soared. She knew that voice.
When things were settled, and speeches had been given, she found herself once again in a hallway with Leonie.
“So, how have you been?” Bernadetta tried.
Leonie just looked at her, eyes warm, and passed on tales from the mercenary group she had been working for.
“And how are you?”
She didn’t ask what Bernadetta had been doing. She wasn’t sure what she would have told her. Bernadetta took a deep breath. She had made herself a lot of promises while locked inside for five years.
“B-better! Now that you’re here!”
Leonie grinned.
“Been working on a romance story?”
“Th-that line was just for you.” Bernadetta twisted her hands together and wrung her hands out, over and over again.
“I know I have a lot of uh, flaws. And there’s way cooler and cuter and smarter and suave-er people you could talk to. People who can go outside everyday without crying. B-but, when I’m with you, the world can feel fun again. So, um, go out with me and also don’t die in the war pretty please?”
Leonie caught her hands and laced their fingers together.
“I thought about you a lot, you know. I try not to be overly sentimental, and I don’t really know how to be romantic, but a lot of things about the Monastery, about the people we knew, the things we did… I think I took a lot of it for granted, just pining away by myself. And I don’t want someone as great as you to think I don’t care about her. Bernadetta, can I kiss you?”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Leonie leaned in, and her lips were just as soft as they looked.
+1
It was rare that Bernadetta left her estate these days, but she always psyched herself up for when Leonie was passing through. If she couldn’t write a letter properly before arriving, she would stop in the town nearest to her estate and send a rider over with a message so that Bernadetta would always have at least a day of notice. It felt like a waste of money, but she also thought it was sweet, so she had never told Leonie to stop.
Leonie’s visits were a treasure to her. She always had stories to tell, and often brought with her new fabric or new kinds of plant seeds. In return, Bernadetta always made sure she had the entire day and night free to spend with her. They painted, they went swimming, sometimes they just stayed inside if Bernadetta was too exhausted for anything else. It was always relaxing.
Today, they were going to the farmer’s market that had started popping up on the first weekend of every month in the town square.
Leonie was outside the gate when she left her manor, waiting. Bernadetta met her with a hug. It had been so long.
“Still up for the field trip?”
Bernadetta nodded.
“I heard a rare plant vendor is going to be in. I really want to make it to the booth.” She squeezed Leonie’s hand. Leonie squeezed back, and off they went.
It was going well until it wasn’t.
Leonie pulled her into an alleyway. Here, in the shade, the world narrowed down to just the two of them.
Leonie settled her against the cool brick of the wall, one palm on the wall beside her face as she leaned in to examine her.
“What can I do?”
Bernadetta went through the breathing exercise she had memorized. She could see Leonie’s hair, the fallen debris from the footpath. Leonie’s face, the metal clasp on her collarbone. Leonie’s familiar scars. One new one, right under her eye. That made 5 things.
She pressed one hand into the grit of the wall, and the other pressed against Leonie’s neck. Her skin, the fabric, the metal. Four things.
She could hear people chattering, and birds, and Leonie’s heartbeat.
She could smell dirt, and Leonie’s unique musk.
She reached into her pocket for a peppermint. One thing she could taste.
The sharp taste made her wrinkle her nose. Reality centered itself around her, around Leonie.
“Just… keep standing there. I’m okay.”
She always felt stronger beside Leonie. Now, here, alone in this alley, it felt like she could stay here forever. She eyed the scar on Leonie’s face. It should’ve scared her, that Leonie still fought and roamed the way she did, but it was just how Leonie was, and Leonie would always come back to her.
“C-can I kiss you?”
“Of course.”
Bernadetta braced her hands on Leonie’s shoulders and raised herself onto her toes. She kissed Leonie’s scars one by one, in order of when she received them. Over her shoulder where a monster had clawed her, under her collar bone where a knife had grazed her, the ear where a fire spell had scorched the flesh. She had done this before. She ended with the new one. It would be a new addition to the familiar ritual.
“Can I have one more?” Leonie’s eyes were sparkling, happy to see that Bernadetta was settled again.
Bernadetta smiled back and pressed a last kiss to her lips. The farmer’s market, and the rest of her future, awaited.