#— ii. ic. ✧ to labor in love; to toil in tenderness. ﹂MERCEDES.﹁

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❛ do you think i’m a good person? ❜ [ syl to your character of choice ]

a meme i'm too lazy to link | accepting but slow

“ 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍, 𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐕𝐀𝐈𝐍? ” her voice is high and sweet, revealing nothing of her own thoughts, her own feelings about the subject. she doesn't answer, at least not in the manner he wants; no, instead she turns the question back on him. “ i think what you think matters far more than what i think. ”

          [ you already know what he thinks, after all. if he thought himself a good person, he would hardly need to ask. ]

          she turns her cornflower-blue gaze up to the stained glass of the cathedral, where the early morning sunlight dances in patchwork colors before cascading over the stone floor. the towering image of saint seiros diffuses across his face in splotches of green and gold, softly haloed against russet waves; on impulse, she reaches out and brushes away the curtain of auburn strands away from where they hang against his forehead, as much to get a better look at his eyes as it is for the contact.

          something glints, metallic, in the sunlight at his feet — a shield, in a familiar, softly glowing gold — and at once the pieces snap into place. her hand falls to his shoulder and gives a firm, gentle squeeze before sliding into the pew beside him.

          “ do you think i’m a bad person? ” she asks. she turns forward, staring at the crumbling, ruined pulpit, before tipping her head onto his shoulder. “ they were my friends, too. i fought them, just like you did. if you’re a bad person, then that makes me one, too. ”

          she closes her eyes, and for a long moment, she’s silent, the only sound in the cathedral the syncopated sound of their breathing. she thinks of annie, and at once feels selfish; how can she think of herself at a time like this?

          [ why should you be spared, after all? he has buried two of his oldest friends, and will likely bury another soon. why should you be granted mercy when he will not? ]

          “ it seems like only yesterday we were all here together, ” she whispers, voice thick. “ we never could get felix to sing the hymns, could we? ” 

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"sorry i'm late," and she is, genuinely. they have so precious few moments to spare these days, and the academy tea-times she shared with mercedes have dwindled from twice weekly to few and far between. the comforting presence is one she cherishes, but realizes, only now their spontaneous lunches out in the gardens are a childish wish, just how much.

before sitting, ingrid takes pause on mercie's side of the table, bends down, and presses a kiss to her hairline and her mouth, in that order, fleeting and then savoring the brief connection. "i missed you."

“𝐎𝐇, 𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐃, 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄!” mercedes meets her companion with a warm, gentle smile, the sort of smile crinkles the edges of soft blue eyes. she isn’t so late, truly — and besides, mercedes has been late to their meetings more than her fair share of times. absent-minded as she is, she has oft been known to lose herself in thought and thus lose track of time. how often had she been tardy to class, rushing though the courtyard only to slip though the door long after the professor had begun their lesson? ( how lucky she had been to have a friend like ingrid in her class, ever punctual and studious, to take notes from her! )

          eyes flutter closed as she accepts the kiss, and tempted as she is to keep the other woman closer — they have seen so little of each other lately, after all — she allows her to pull away and take her seat.

          “i missed you too,” she admits. the tea between them is beginning to cool, but it is still drinkable, and mercedes drops a few more sugar cubes into her lukewarm tea. “i wish you weren’t stationed so far from me during battles. how am i supposed to keep you safe when you’re so high above my head?”

          it barely scratches the surface of her worries, of course. however hard this is for her, she knows it must be a thousand times harder for ingrid. the empire had been her home once; her brother, the death knight, the emperor’s loyal guard. ingrid has no such ties, yet she had followed her all the same.

          “ingrid…” she looks down into her teacup, a finger tracing the filigree patterned onto the ceramic cup. “maybe this is selfish of me, but i’m happy you’re here.”

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tag drop pt. 2.

— ii. ic. ✧ my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake. ﹂EDELGARD.﹁ — ii. ic. ✧ another knife in my hands & a stain that never comes off. ﹂HUBERT.﹁ — ii. ic. ✧ i need someone to remember my name when all that i can do for them is done. ﹂DOROTHEA.﹁ — ii. ic. ✧ turn your face toward the sun & shadows will fall behind you. ﹂FERDINAND.﹁ — ic. ii. ✧ the flowers you gave me are rotting but i refuse to throw them away. ﹂MONICA.﹁ — ii. ic. ✧ make room for small fragile things. ﹂ASHE.﹁ — ii. ic. ✧ to labor in love; to toil in tenderness. ﹂MERCEDES.﹁ — ii. ic. ✧ you belong among the wildflowers. ﹂LEONIE.﹁ — ii. ic. ✧ the world’s a beast of a burden & you’ve been holding on a long time.. ﹂BYLETH.﹁ — ii. ic. ✧ the map of my heart; the landscape after cruelty. ﹂DEDUE.﹁