Work Text:
The serene melody of Ferdinand’s study– a teacup landing softly against its saucer, papers fluttering as he closed a book, the creak of his desk chair– came to an abrupt end when the door banged open. Ferdinand jumped, causing a large splat of ink to cover his latest letter to Lorenz. The glare he aimed over his shoulder turned into an affectionate eyeroll as he saw his visitors. “My loves, what have I said about knocking?”
“S-Sorry,” Bernadetta said in that automatic way Ferdinand still couldn’t convince her to drop. “This is important though!”
“Very important. Here.” Claude held out a leather bound manuscript, grinning in that way Ferdinand still couldn’t help but match with his own.
Ferdinand took the manuscript. “Am I about to discover what you two have been working on in secret all week?”
Bernadetta beamed and Claude winked, which was enough answer. Chuckling, Ferdinand opened the manuscript, unsurprised to find it was a book. It took a few lines for Ferdinand to realize the true surprise. “This is written in Almyran!”
“We translated Assuaging Waters into Almyran!” Bernadetta declared outright, hugging Claude around the middle with glee. “Claude said my first book would really resonate with Almyrans so we went line by line to make it as accurate as possible!”
Claude was practically bouncing on his toes. “We had to change one or two names but otherwise it’s faithful to the original!”
Ferdinand turned back to the title page. He still couldn’t read Almyran– he had a conversational grasp and knew a few choice words learned from Claude during their… private moments, but the written word was lost on him. Even so, Ferdinand could recognize the title, and Bernadetta’s name was still written in Fódlandi underneath it. He ran his fingers over Claude’s familiar handwriting.
A hand lightly grasped his chin and Ferdinand’s attention was pulled upwards. Furrowed brows creased Claude’s previously excited face. “You’re not upset, are you?” Claude asked softly. “We didn’t mean to exclude you from this. It’s just–”
Ferdinand took Claude’s hand, shaking his head. “I would not have been any help whatsoever.” He kissed those knuckles. “We three do not have to share every little thing. I am glad we have reached a point in our lives where we can accomplish such things as this.” Putting the manuscript on his desk, Ferdinand held out his other hand to Bernadetta, who crossed the room to take it. Ferdinand kissed her hand as well. “I am so proud of you. Both of you. What a wonderful way to tie our worlds together.”
The melody of Ferdinand’s study soon changed into a beautiful cacophony. Claude read bits of the book aloud in fluent Almyran, Bernadetta cut in with why they chose this or that translation, and Ferdinand prepared tea and listened intently to the fruits of their labor. Never had he been so pleased at his work being interrupted.
Once the book made it to the printing presses, Ferdinand would be sure to make both his loves sign his copy, and keep it in his study to peruse whenever he missed their music.