#also Sylvain bringing up hating them for invading is SUCH a good touch to this bc Sylvain is so strong about peace

[dmclemblems]

u know it’s bonkers when u live in a world where count gloucester was right all along

[mommymooze]

Gautier Girl

You are a proud member of the Blue Lions. Land of honor and chivalry, knights and duty, respect for the monarchy and the territory that you hail from, at least until you came to Garreg Mach and join the Officers Academy. Your father is a proud member of the Gautier soldiers protecting the territory from the invaders of the north. You had never been to the Margrave’s residence, they were a very private family and kept to themselves. The first time you had actually met the son of Margrave Gautier was when introductions were made on the first day of class. Certainly, Sylvain looked the part of the son of the noble house. His bright red hair is unruly curling loosely across his forehead, his strong chin, and coppery eyes sparkle in the sunlight prove he is an attractive and dashing young man. Then he opens his mouth and that all falls by the wayside. If he is not rudely and disrespectfully taunting and tormenting his friends, he is chasing after or drooling for almost every girl in the academy.

You head to the training grounds after dinner to work on your lance skills. Ingrid is there and helps you find tune your warmup exercises and drills. When you both stop for a drink of water you casually ask her how she knows Sylvain. Ingrid immediately stops what she is doing and looks you straight in the eye.

“Take my advice, stay away from Sylvain. He has broken more hearts than I can count!” She angrily snaps.

“Oh, it’s not that. Not at all. I am from Gautier territory and had not met him until I came here. I’m shocked by his behavior. I am in awe of you trying to keep him in line.” You say, not quite truthfully.

“Good.” Ingrid says. “He is terrible. He even flirted with my grandmother when we were young, can you believe it?”

“Yeah, definitely a heartbreaker.” You laugh in response.

You continue practicing as Ingrid leaves. You feel ashamed of yourself, lying to a noble, lying to Ingrid! Yes, you had seen Sylvain in the past, riding through the towns of Gautier, looking like a hero with a purpose, his hair waving behind him like it was on fire. He was the most impressive man you had ever seen, so handsome, and you had fallen in love with him at first sight.

However, here at the officer’s academy, Sylvain hardly gave you the time of day. On a good day he smiles or winks at you, but that was it. Yeah, you were a late bloomer and more of a tomboy than a girly girl, but why did it frustrate you so much? When you accompanied the Blue Lions in battle, he was always focused on his friends. How could you get him to notice you?

You head to the library and check out every single book on the Gautier territory and the Sreng. When you go to the market you would beg the booksellers to find books regarding Sreng, their history, their stories, anything to find out more about them. You were able to procure a few books, but not a lot of information.

Then the war started. Everyone heads home, including you. You join the army protecting Gautier territory. You march alongside other soldiers, working hard to get yourself transferred to the forces closest to the borders. You learned about the towns and villages in the area and finally strike paydirt. You find Betka, a Sreng woman. It takes knowing her some time before she admits to her heritage. She tells her story of how she had been out hunting close to Gautier lands. An elk had turned on her, she was seriously hurt. A huge storm was on the way when a Gautier soldier found her and brought her in from the storm. He sheltered her, helped her heal from her injuries and fell in love with her. They have been married for ten years now. Any time your garrison was stationed at the town, you would stay with them. Betka and her husband teach you Sreng customs, tell you their tales and stories, speak of their gods, and most importantly, the language.

It was summer in Gautier territory, four years after the war started with the Empire. There were less soldiers to guard the borders since so many were demanded by the kingdom to boost defenses in Fhirdiad. You were on a watchtower, scanning the lands at the border. You notice a Sreng hunting party coming closer. You decide you need to engage them before the other soldiers catch sight of them. Taking your lance you run in their direction. Fortunately, you were not followed. The Sreng party notices you. You hold your spear in both hands above your head. They talk among themselves then one of the hunting party walks towards you and throws their spear into the ground at your feet. You throw your spear into the ground next to theirs. You then begin speaking with the Sreng female in front of you. You talk for almost twenty minutes, she then turns, whistles, makes a motion with her hands, and the hunting party heads the opposite direction. You both pick up your spear and head back over the border line.  

As you approach the watchtower there are now quite a few soldiers gathered around the base of the tower. You feel odd as they don’t say a word. Then they tell you to go up the stairs. Waiting at the top of the tower is Sylvain.

“Hello (y/n), it’s been a while.” Sylvain’s face is hard to read, there is a bit of a smile but also a look of concern.

You are gasping for breath after running all the way back here and having to climb several flights of stairs to get to the top of the tower. You bow to the son of the leader of your military forces before you speak.  “Sir Gautier.” You gasp. “I am surprised to see you. How may I be of service.” You manage to get out, still gasping for air.

“Well, first of all, what was that?” The redhead gestures out to where you were speaking with the Sreng.

“That was a hunting party. They were coming close to the border and I wanted to speak with them to convince them to go back into their own territory, I was happy when they did.”

“Since when do you speak Srengi?” He asks, looking back at where you were talking to the hunters.

“Since we left the academy. I’ve been working in different garrisons and different towns. I’ve met a few people that came from Sreng that live in the kingdom now. They have taught me much about the Sreng people. They really aren’t that bad.” You say.

“You know, my father would have you killed for allowing the enemy to escape. You were seen walking out there, fraternizing with our foes. Letting them get away. You are certainly not following his orders to kill every Sreng on sight.”

You hang your head. “They are people. Not wild animals. War is coming at us from both sides. I thought if we could talk to them, maybe we can stop the fighting here. I wanted to bring it up to the Margrave, but I had to see if we could talk to them first. I accept my punishment. I am not sorry though.” You remove your weapons and drop them to the floor.

Sylvain puts his left hand on your shoulder. He’s going to have you carted away and hung as a traitor. You sigh heavily.

Suddenly his other arm comes around your back and he hugs you to his chest. “You are so lucky I’m not my father. What you did today was amazing! I can’t believe you did that. What led you to do something like this? I’m just flabbergasted!”

You are almost in tears. Your emotions are a whirling tornado in your brain.  But right now you can’t breathe because he is squeezing you so hard in his arms. You give him a few taps on the back, hoping he will let you breathe soon.

Sylvain finally lets you go. He sits on a bench, asking you to sit across from him. “So tell me why. Why’d you do it?”

“I did it because I wanted to help you, Sylvain. I know you hate your crest, that it’s so important to your father. You are the only one that can wield the Lance of Ruin after him, the one thing you know the Sreng fear. So I thought, if we could talk to the Sreng, stop the war, well, he can’t hold it over you that you have to stay here and you could do what you want.”

“Okay. I get that.” The redhead acknowledges. “But what’s in it for you?”

“Um…” You think try to think fast, you only did this to help him. “Oh. If we can make peace with the Sreng, more soldiers could be freed up to help fight the war. The people close to the borders can rest easy. And if we can end all of these wars my father can come home and rest.”

Sylvain leads you down the stairs of the watchtower and pulls you onto the back of his horse, telling you to hold tight because you’re going to speak with the Margrave. You want to swoon from putting your arms around him and holding on for so long, and had it not been for his armor being in the way of really touching him, you probably would have. He takes you to the residence where he leaves you in their library. He will have to speak with his father first.

You try to busy yourself with looking for some interesting books to read, finding a few about the Sreng. You notice notes in the margins that are more interesting than the book itself. Your reading is interrupted by loud shouting from upstairs that does not quiet down. You begin pacing anxiously as the voices are loud and angry but you can’t exactly make out what they are saying. You jump as a woman comes in from the kitchens with a small tea service.

“Sorry ma’am. Tis going to be a while. Have some tea. Don’t mind them, they’re always like that.” The matronly woman smiles at you, leaving the tea next to a table by the window.

“Thank you for the tea and the reassurance.” You say to her.

You have your tea. You ask to use the powder room. You are getting restless. Anxious. Angry. Upset. Furious. The more time that goes on, the more you decide you can’t stand this. Finally, your pot boileth over. You go upstairs and knock at the door. There is no response, they probably did not hear it over the shouting. You take your dagger out, using the butt of it, you knock on the door very loudly. There is a dual scream of “What!” answering your knock. You open the doors quickly. You enter you see two red-faced redheaded men toe to toe in the most antagonistic stance you have ever seen. Deciding you are at your wits end, you thunder into the room.

“Eee-Nough!” You spat between them, calling for a cease fire.

Both men look at you shocked. Who would dare to barge into this room and interrupt a serious conversation such as this?

You do not flinch, marching straight up to the Margrave, stepping between him and Sylvain you take your index and middle finger, stabbing it in the center of his chest. “You! Sit.” You point to a chair on one side of the table in his office. You do not move until he backs up, Hrumpfs, and takes a seat.

You turn, stabbing Sylvain in the chest with the same two fingers. “Sit.” You order him, and he obeys like a scolded puppy.

You stand at the end of the table the men seated to your left and right. Your hands touching the table in a steepled position, only your fingertips are on the table, a completely controlling and aggressive posture.  Your eyes are fierce, piercing through them into their souls.

“I came here for a serious conversation regarding peace with the Sreng. We will discuss this like civilized adults.  If you insist on acting like little schoolboys, perhaps we should take you behind the woodshed for 10 lashes with a strap and put you to bed without any dessert tonight.”

Both of the redheads are taken back by this serious, controlling woman ordering them around, however neither one wants to step out of line, afraid of what she would unleash upon them. The three are able to draw up a proposal to be delivered to the Sreng, an offer of 3 years truce as they work to agree on the boundaries of the borderlands between the people, learn to understand each other better and negotiate through terms of a permanent peace treaty.

The Margrave is very much pleased with himself by the time it is complete. Somehow this was his entire plan from the beginning, and that he had thought of this in the first place. Of course he was just seeing if Sylvain would come to the same conclusion he had already determined. He invites you to a late dinner and to stay at his modest home for the night.

After dinner Sylvain takes you to the library. You sit on the loveseat, leaving a space next to you, and he sits in the chair to your left.  At first you talk a little about the truce. Then you both become very quiet.

Sylvain gets a sheepish look as he raises a hand behind his head to rub his neck nervously. “Um, (y/n) I just want to thank you for uh, everything you’ve done for me, for us, er, well for everyone today. “

You blush a bit. “But Sylvain, it took all of us. Certainly, you and your father, but the soldiers not overreacting when I went out there. The villagers that helped me find some Sreng people, the Sreng themselves. I think everyone wants this particular fight to be over.“ The room again is quiet. A clock ticking on the wall echoes through the room.

Sylvain fidgets in his chair. He puts his hand on his chin, staring at the table. He still looks at the floor in front of you when he begins to talk. “You know, back when we were in school, I never asked you out. It was because every time you looked at me I knew you could see right through me. Your eyes looked into me and saw the truth. All of my lies, wanting to hurt those girls because they really did not want me. They wanted my crest and my family name. I was angry and mean, a real terrible person. I saw that terrible part of myself reflected in your eyes. I never wanted to hurt you like that, so I ignored you. And yet here you are. You came to save me. I didn’t ask, you just…did it. Why?”

“I grew up in this territory too. We didn’t have to live with you to know many of the things going on in your house. We heard of how you cried sometimes when you had to go home after visiting Dimitri or Felix. Your father’s expectations forced upon you. You were ordered to do as he says. He turned a blind eye to what Miklan had done. You will wield the lance, marry who he wishes and bear the next lance wielding child. Then I saw you with your friends at the school. You were so kind and supportive. You would do anything and everything for them. You nearly died so many times throwing yourself in front of attacks meant for them. It was like you were two different people. I couldn’t stand to see you suffer any more. I thought that maybe if we could stop the need for you to have to wield the lance in the first place, that part of you could be free and you could be whole.”

“I-I don’t know what to say.” Sylvain realizes for the first time in his life he has no idea what to say to a girl, no, a woman, particularly this woman.

“You look exhausted. It’s been a busy day. I think it is time to turn in.”  You say covering a yawn.

Sylvain escorts you to your room. You nod and wave, going inside.

The next morning you find a note slid under your door. The Margrave has completed his proposal to the Sreng. You are to translate it to their language, leaving a copy here and taking a copy to Sreng for them to ponder. You ignore the servants call to breakfast, determined to finish this as quickly as possible.

Entering the dining room you bow before the Margrave, holding out both copies in Srengi for him to review. Not that he can read it, however he can compare the two and see that they are written the same, no change of words or marks between the two documents. He signs one and keeps the other. You take the two documents, one in each language with you as you head out the door and grab a horse to ride to the border of the lands, to watch and meet with the Sreng people.

Sylvain helps you saddle the horse. You nod as you work together to quickly get it ready. He smiles and wishes you good luck as he slaps the horse on the flank, speeding it on its way. You are at the borderland in no time. You forgo the watchtower, jumping the fence and heading straight into Sreng territory. Just a short distance beyond where you met the hunting party you stop and wait.

You wait for a few hours. Suddenly a Sreng warrior steps from behind a tree. You hold your spear in both hands over your head. They take the same position then slowly walk until they are in front of you, throwing their spear into the ground between you, you follow suit. You are instructed to kneel and keep your hands on the ground. Walking towards you is a beautiful warrior woman, covered in white bear furs, the huge skull of the bear is on her head. She is decorated in gold and colorful beads. She asks you to come with her and you follow. The warrior takes your horse and lance. You are led back to where their horses are waiting. There are fifty or more Sreng here. You are told to mount up and you are taken further into the territory for several hours riding at top speed. You see a valley ahead and a huge Sreng village.  The large stone building is the residence of the Chief of the tribe. You are taken down several corridors until tall double doors are opened before you. Thick dark carpeting is on the floor, your eyes follow the path to the dais at the end of the room. To the left and right are many Sreng, seated at tables with parchment and glasses in front of them. All are silent as you are led to stand before the Chief. The Chief sits on a throne surrounded by heavily armed soldiers. A tall slender woman in black approaches you. You are surprised as she speaks the language of the kingdom to you.

“Why are you here?” She states in a commanding voice.

You feel compelled to answer. Slowly reaching in the bag at your hip you pull out the two parchments. “I have come to discuss ending the fighting on the border at the south.”

She walks toward you, looking into your eyes. “Do you have power over the lance of fire?”

“I do not.” You look into her face. Her look is strong and deadly serious. “I came from those that wield the lance. The one who controls it wrote the document, offering to begin talks of ending the fighting. I am but a messenger.”

She holds out her hand and you hand her the documents. She does not turn around as she tells you to leave. You bow first to the Chief, then to her, then the others of the room and head back out the double doors. You are led to a small comfortable room where there are two Sreng women around your age. They are not dressed as soldiers, but only what you can guess as common clothes. Speaking Srengi, they invite you to sit and eat with them. They ask curious questions. Is everyone a soldier? Is it true that everyone in Fodlan was taught to fight as soon as they learned to talk? Do you remove the hearts of those you have killed to eat their strength? Do you worship devils of fire? Do you not fear the wrath of the gods of the Sreng for your transgressions?

You try to allay their fears. The people to the south are simply people like themselves. We eat vegetables and animals. We are sad when we have to take the lives of others, but we do so to defend ourselves. We do all sorts of jobs cooks, tailors, farmers, sailors, builders, masons, blacksmiths, teachers, bakers, etc. You compliment on their beautiful and colorful jewelry and the bright beads they have woven into their hair. One of the women has a large stone that sparkles in a rainbow of colors in her necklace. You have never seen such a stone. They explain they wear this stone as a protection, calling it the eye of the gods. They associate each of their gods with a color, this special stone having all of the colors within it.

The dark clad woman comes to you from the Chief’s room, the women that were with you scatter. They clear the table and place both of your parchments down. She demands clarification of the wording from your translation. You explain your intention, your knowledge of the Sreng language is certainly lacking. Once she is satisfied with the corrections, she leaves again saying she will return later.

You are left alone in the room. You wait quietly when one of the younger women hesitantly enters the room. She places a necklace around your neck, the pendant is of the stone you saw before. “So the gods will watch over you.” She says before quietly leaving. You thank her and tuck it inside your clothes. You’ll take every blessing you can get. You are happy that so far your head is still on its shoulders. That can change any minute you think as the door opens again and the tall woman is back to take you to the chief. As you approach you hear loud sounds coming from the room, like many voices shouting. The doors open, there is a yell and all is quiet. You follow the darkly dressed woman and stop where you were standing before, she moves to her position in front of the Chief.

The Chief stands, then speaks in Srengi. “We accept your terms.”

The room becomes loud once again with whoops and yells. The spectators to the sides are chest bumping everyone around them. One Sreng male is very excited, he jumps over the table and stands in front of you with his arms out wide. You look to the woman in front of the Chief briefly and she nods. You open your arms and chest bump with him. Now everyone wants a piece of you. Food and drink appear in the room. Feasting and partying goes well into the night. Before the night ends, you have been adopted into four different families as their child, been asked for your hand in marriage by  numerous warriors (you respectfully decline), become an honorary member of the Sreng and are given a tattoo on your back that you have been blessed by the goddess of wisdom. Your ribs hurt from being mashed by chest bumps so many times.

The next morning you are laden with gifts, some for you, some for the Margrave. You return to Gautier territory. All of the trees on the border are already marked by the Sreng. On the side facing Gautier is an open eye. On the side facing Sreng is a closed eye. This is a sign to the Sreng that their gods cannot protect them beyond the closed eye. It is a sign to the intruders from Fodlan that this is Sreng territory and they will be watching. You cross into Gautier territory There, at the border to escort you, is Sylvain smiling as bright as the sun.

“We did it! They agree to the terms!” You say as you run up to him.

Sylvain grabs you, spinning you around as he holds you in his arms. “You did it! I am so happy. Thank you so much.” He gasps as he squeezes you against his chest. You are not sure which feels better. That you have accomplished this or him holding you in your arms. You smile wider because you have both.