welcome to our quest thank u for enjoying this but pls study for your paper thx >_<
On the Road to Elspar [Book 1] (Dryad Mercenary Schoolgirl Quest)
- Thread starter Kei
- Start date
- Original Fantasy
welcome to our quest thank u for enjoying this but pls study for your paper thx >_<
Dirtnap
Kanmusu Affecionado
as a supervisor i can confirm. i was a lot less of a grumbling asshole before i was made supervisor. It was only supposed to be temporary and then they're like oh hey youre doing a great job its yours now.
me - fuck.
- Location
- Caribbean
Ah, hopefully Neianne manages to rein her crazy group in. At the least its best htis comes up now and not when the war inevitably restarts whenever Caldrein realises how fucked their situation is and bites the bullet and allies up with a big power to hit back against the Tennies.
Right, the vote is pretty one-sided at this point, so barring some sudden massive upset between this and me actually writing the update to any significant degree, I think I'm calling it. =P
2.9.1 Llyneyth Academy (Part 1)
I suppose 9,042 words is justification enough for taking an entire friggin' month to write this. I don't actually think so, but @Gazetteer will probably complain if I don't make some noises to that effect. So.
I'm sorry for how long it took, and very nearly just straight up quit. The next update really better not take this bloody long or friggin' else.
[x] ...Azalea, Wilhelmina, Nikki, and Squad Seven.
It is not difficult to find Azalea as you walk alone through the streets of Llyneyth. You only need to look through the windows of certain establishments, what you might call her natural habitat: A tea shop, a steaming cup clasped in her hands, surrounded by a handful of friends. Azalea doesn't waste time, you suppose, anymore than Elizabeth does. She knows what she likes.
Relative to the Aroma back at Faulkren - more cozy and rustic - the Mountain Rose Tea Room, much like the rest of Llyneyth's architectural style, is almost imposing. You're not quite as impressed as you might've been before, not when you've only returned from a trip to Stengard mere months ago, but the high ceilings, polished white-and-black marble walls, and dark wooden panels gives off an imperious atmosphere. You suspect that this establishment meant to replicate an aristocratic sitting room - and given some of their likely clientele further up the mountain, this is hardly surprising - but this resembles more like a diplomatic chamber in Tower Vigilance than a sitting room in an actual noble household.
...Not that you really have any experience with a noble's sitting room outside the Zabanya manor. You suppose Elizabeth's many, many pillows have left an impression.
The bell over the door chimes musically, the wave of warmth overcoming you welcome; the interior is not quite as cold as it looks. The interior seats a fair amount of people, but already most of the seats are occupied. You recognize, of course, those from Faulkren. Looking at you with a small nod of acknowledgement is Wilhelmina Adelaide Marienberg, accompanied by Nikki and the rest of their squad. With Azalea's own squadmates and a few other hanger-ons, they fill out a large table quite readily. But The apprentices from Faulkren aren't alone; aside from a few who seem like locals, there is a larger number of other unfamiliar faces seated at other tables, your age, wearing very conspicuous white-and-black uniforms, and almost all of them gifted with fine elven features.
You have a fairly strong suspicion that these are the apprentices from Llyneyth.
You turn your gaze back to those familiar to you just in time to see Azalea's face light up in recognition. "Neianne!" she calls out cheerfully as she stands from her seat, walking over to meet you halfway as you fidget and bow a little. "Are you joining us?"
"I-If you wouldn't mind," you murmur. You're not quite as uncomfortable as you once were about gatherings such as this; you've never truly considered the highborn of the Confederacy unapproachable - your Caldran sensibilities never really permitted that - but that niggling worry of embarrassing yourself certainly seems less of an acute concern after your summer in Marloch and Stengard.
"Of course not," replies Azalea, guiding you to an extra seat that Nikki has pulled over from an empty table, the Sandrian aseri giving you a lazy, friendly sort of wave as you settle into the proffered seat. "There's nothing quite like some warm tea in weather like this." A dainty grimace crosses her features like a cloud on a sunny day. "I admit, I am not particularly fond of Lindholm's climate. It leaves me feeling listless and gloomy the entire time."
"It's cold," Nikki agrees, commiserating as all of you sit back down into your seats, and as a cup of warm tea swiftly materializes before you. She seems to hold onto her own tea particularly tightly, aseri ears flattened out slightly. Not unlike when you saw her during Midwinter's Feast last year, she is visibly more heavily dressed than most of the other occupants of this tea shop.
"Not the cold in of itself, actually, and more the lack of sun." Azalea shares a glance of mutual displeasure with you, a sentiment that the others, not being dryads themselves, are not able to fully understand. "Just in case you want to know why I didn't want to train here in Llyneyth as an apprentice."
Wilhelmina shoots a dry look over at Azalea as she drones, "That's not why you really came here."
"Oh?" smiles the dryad childhood friend to her elven counterpart. "And how are you so sure? Three years is an awfully long time to spend somewhere in a place as dreary as this."
"It was n-nicer over the summer," you say a little wistfully as you raise your cup for a sip of tea.
There is a flutter across the table, and you realize rather self-consciously - nearly snorting your tea in the process - that they just remembered that you spent a month with Elizabeth. Some of the girls exchange excited whispers, as if this is still a great source of social gossip. Nikki isn't actively taking part in that, but she does give you a slight smirk as if this is all very amusing, at least at a distance. Azalea guards what little awkwardness she feels perfectly; while Wilhelmina doesn't show any hint of displeasure, her expressions looks as guarded as you ran into each other in Stengard along with Elizabeth and Lilith.
"Are you and Lady Zabanya together?" asks a human apprentice from Squad Seven's side of the table excitedly. Helen, if you remember correctly, an Apaloftian freeholder and support mage, although you may have seen her around with a spear recently as well.
Flushing a deep crimson, you quickly protest, "N-No! She's just..." you hesitate for a moment, never certain whether you'd characterize yourself as Elizabeth's "friend", before settling on, "...very kind."
Wilhelmina raises a very obvious eyebrow at your characterization of Elizabeth. Perhaps taking a bit of mercy at your panic, Azalea gracefully interjects, "Her family is very amicable. My parents speak well of both Viscountess and Viscountess-Consort Zabanya, and the two younger sisters are very lovely." You note that nowhere is Elizabeth mentioned here, but she continues, "I've had long conversations with the youngest, Anya Victoria Zabanya."
You nod agreeably, fighting down a bit of embarrassment; Anya was indeed a lovely host when you were in Marloch, but your deepest impression of her is still her penchant for...certain types of romantic novels. Given how the aristocracy mingles, you're hardly surprised that Azalea knows Anya, although now that you think about it, it must be awkward for the daughter of the only dryad Caldran noble house to be on the receiving end of precisely what Anya thinks about dryads, informed by those books she reads. Unless...
"Didn't the other Zabanya sister run off with the army?" one of Wilhelmina's squadmates asks, a dark-haired highborn human girl. Jessica Anise Crasemayn, if your memory for name serves; your vague impression of her being a reasonably competent apprentice is overshadowed by her being the only apprentice who has chosen an axe for a weapon of choice and a straight sword as a secondary. You ought to pay more attention to these things, seeing how she's yet another contestant representing Faulkren Academy.
"Diana?" Azalea fills in, as the conversation begins to split across the table, girls sitting with each other breaking off into several smaller chats to the side. "Yes, that's what I've heard. She's awfully young to do so."
"If she's half as dangerous as Lady Elizabeth," offers an aseri apprentice from Azalea's squad with a bit of a laugh, " you probably don't have anything to fear."
"Competence is no guarantee of survival," Wilhelmina warns with a sudden hint of gravity, cutting any hint of mirth short as the table falls into a slightly awkward silence. There's just an oddly personal tone in which she spoke; you suppose the heir to House Marienberg, like so many other highborn girls, likely has family caught up in the fighting on the Elsparian front.
But Azalea is quit to cut in with a light slap to Wilhelmina's forearm, chiding, "Oh, don't jinx the poor girl. She'll be fine. They're not going to let her run off to the frontlines without training like us. She's probably in a healing or logistics group. I'm just worried she's too young to see...well, war."
"She's going to see it sooner or later."
Azalea gives a theatrical sigh, like a long-suffering sister resigned to the tactlessness of her blunter sibling. "You should be more worried about the tournament." Smiling warmly to the rest of Squad Seven under Wilhelmina, she asks, "Are you girls ready?"
The remaining three members of Squad Seven looks at each other for a moment before Nikki shrugs and allows, "As ready as we'll ever be, I guess. I mean, the idea is that the rest of us will play interference while Lady Wilhelmina picks everyone else off."
"That's not the idea," retorts Wilhelmina with a slightly annoyed look at the rest of her squad. "Were the three of you having conversations behind my back?"
"No," the three instantly respond in unison.
Of course, this only makes Wilhelmina narrow her eyes in suspicion as the rest of the table giggles, but she eventually gives a small sigh and relents. "I'm something of a mismatch with this tournament, in any case. I've always been more of an outdoors survivalist, hiding and picking off enemies with a longbow. I'm not exactly looking for a fair fight. Jessica, Nikki, and Helen are better suited for it."
"You're one of our favorites to win the tournament, you know," Azalea huffs good-naturedly.
"As if," snorts Wilhelmina. "I suspect Treiser has a better chance. Or Squad Four," she suggests, looking at you, causing you to recoil slightly in surprise as attention is suddenly turned once again to you. "You have both Ravenhill and Zabanya, after all. Whatever else you want to say about them, they're exceptional in a fight."
You suppose there's no arguing with that. But then Helen asks, "Where's your squad?" The elven healer of Squad Seven looks earnest and innocent in her inquisitiveness, at least. Azalea has mentioned her to you in passing before, and like Jessica, your impression of her is one of acceptable competence for a Caldran mercenary apprentice. With a spear as her primary offensive weapon of choice, you suspect that she and Nikki have Squad Seven's long-range melee covered.
You try not to make your hesitation terribly obvious as you answer with an explanation you've already spent some time thinking about: "We're...sp-spliting apart today. We all want to do something different, s-so..."
That is, strictly speaking, not a lie. You don't particularly think that either Sieglinde or Elizabeth would deign to spend too much time with the other apprentices, nor with each other. Stephanie has some friends of her own independent of your own social circle, but she did not seek them out over the past week on the journey to Llyneyth, nor did she seem eager to speak to anyone else. You feel a bit of guilt from that - that Stephanie is likely consumed by her worries about what awaits her at Llyneyth instead of merely being angry at you - but you suspect that she'll be trying to find some time alone while in town. So all of you really are going your own ways today, and there's no reason to suggest that there's anything more to it.
Azalea regards you for a moment, and there's a flicker in her expression for the shortest of blinks - perhaps it's concern or doubt - but to her credit, she immediately replaces it with a worriless smile. Wilhelmina is harder to read - she's yet another one of those elves who expresses little blatantly - but she does regard you for a moment longer than is reasonable, icy blue eyes piercing you as easily as a target three hundred meters away. Then, surprisingly, she changes the topic: "Are you nervous?"
"N-Nervous?" you blink helplessly.
"About the tournament. You are taking part."
"A-Ah. Yes. I-I mean..." you take a deep breath before correcting, "...I don't know yet. I'm not really sure wh-what it's going to be like."
Nikki gives you a dry look, droning, "Don't tell me you're not worried about the pressure."
You have. Or perhaps you've considered the pressure that your instructors have directly put on you. Or the pressure that your squadmates have indirectly - inadvertent though it may be - put on you. This isn't precisely the best group with which to bring this up, though, if there is any such "best" group. "I have. But I'm just guessing. I don't really kn-know what it's going to be like. So I just...want to make sure I d-do my best."
"That's the spirit," chimes Azalea encouragingly as cheerful chatter around the table in response to your explanation seems favorable. Wilhelmina herself seems to regard you with the faintest of approving nods. You suppose that's about as good an answer you can give.
"I just want to see you hit someone with that stupid sword of yours," Nikki smirks, and almost instantly you feel your face redden as heat rises to your cheek. "At least once. I don't care if it's just a training weapon."
"I-I'm not going to hit anyone that hard!" you protest.
"Oh, come on, it's fine. They'll have healers ready to take care of any real injuries."
"Training rules apply," Wilhelmina adds helpfully. Or perhaps unhelpfully. "Pull your punches, don't hit the head, and try not to cause serious harm."
"Right," Nikki nods with a hint of satisfaction. "So you can still launch people into the air."
"Didn't you launch Wendy into the air one time?" asks Helen, even as you're horrified by the realization that someone else knows about this.
Nikki's head snaps around to stare at Helen, then you, demanding with an almost inappropriate sense of urgency, "Wait, what?"
"I-It was an accident!" you whine insistently and impotently, ever conscious about how attention from different conversations around the table is now refocusing on you.
Helen shrugs amidst giggles at your expense, elaborates, "It was just after she got her crazy sword, I think."
Turning and locking a mock-offended expression at you, Nikki demands, "Why didn't you wait until I was around for it?"
"I wasn't tr-trying to wait until you weren't around!" you insist, too overwhelmed right now to openly take objection to Helen describing your buster sword as "crazy".
Thankfully, Azalea is merciful enough to finally intervene on your behave, chiding gently despite a cheerful expression that clearly telegraphed she was at least amused at your expense: "Now, now, Neianne has enough pressure to deal with for this tournament. Let's take it easy on her..." she pauses for just long enough for you to give her a grateful look, then finishes to your dismay, "...until after the tournament, yes?"
A bit more mewling on your part and teasing on theirs passes, your face glowing in a luminescent blush and locked into a bit of a pout by the time they've finally had their fill. Azalea is tactful enough, at least, to order a plate of biscuits, and although your expression is still one of a small dryad nursing a bruised ego, the delicious pastries take a bit of the sting out of it as conversation moves on.
Quietly, your ingrained Caldran mercenary apprentice instincts take over even as you indulge in your sweet tooth, looking at the members of Squad Seven chattering with each other. While not necessarily spoken of as a prodigy in the way Sieglinde and Elizabeth are, Wilhelmina Adelaide Marienberg is still known as Faulkren's best shooter; you would know, seeing how she saved you with a longbow back when the Squirrels attacked Faulkren, stopping a direwolf in its tracks with a well-place arrow. She is also proficient with a dagger - certainly more so than you, hinting at previous training - but you don't necessarily see that as a weapon terrible useful in this tournament. Nikki and Helen, meanwhile, wield polearms, although the former is undoubtedly better, complete with a devastating poleaxe; although Helen can defend herself, she will likely focus on healing, leaving the melee to Nikki and Jessica. Where Nikki has chosen a mace as her secondary weapon, Jessica's axe-and-shield combination - plus a straight sword as a backup - makes her a dangerous close-quarters combatant; she doesn't have the kind of range Nikki's poleaxe has, but her equipment is certainly well-suited for both offense and defense.
You step into a tactical mindset. Like Elizabeth in your own squad, Squad Seven's strategy is almost certainly going to revolve around Wilhelmina as long-range support. To a certain degree, ensuring Helen can cast healing magecraft unabated is evened out by her ability to ward off enemies with her spear, but if you were Wilhelmina, you'd have Helen as your last line of defense, protected also by Nikki and Jessica. The two of them would probably make a good offensive pair, in fact, with Nikki's poleaxe striking out from behind Jessica's shield. Of course, that's just the default formation; it's a potent combination of strengths, but it really depends on the composition of the enemy squad. No plan survives contact with the enemy, after all.
"Why didn't your squad enter the tournament?" Jessica suddenly asks, and you snap back to attention as you sense that she's directing the question in your general direction. Looking up at her, though, you realize she's talking to Azalea; she doesn't seem quite malicious, but there's something a little teasing about the way she smirks at Azalea and her three squadmates. "Even Neianne entered."
"I didn't care to participate," Azalea replies primly, "and neither did my squadmates." You glance at the three girls in question; two of them nod along, but the third fidgets a little in her seat, and you wonder if she secretly feels differently. "It's going to be a lot more fun to watch than to get knocked over the head in front of a crowd."
"Better be knocked over the head here than out there," Wilhelmina observes before taking a sip of her tea.
"Don't listen to Mina," Azalea says in a theatrical mock-whisper, looking around the table with wide, conspiratorial eyes. "She just likes an excuse to show off." You catch sight of Nikki half-doubling over in her seat, covering her mouth to disguise a laugh as a cough. Some of the others don't bother concealing their laughter, or make polite grins. Wilhelmina simply raises a blonde eyebrow at Azalea once again, coolly sipping her cup of tea in the manner of someone who has nothing to prove. Azalea mock-pouts in response to this non-reaction, sighing, "You're no fun to tease."
"So I've been told more generally," Wilhelmina agrees.
"The teasing part, or that you're no fun?" Jessica asks, grinning.
Wilhelmina gives her a flat look, rendered abruptly wry by the sliver of a smile coming onto her face. "Yes," she says.
This kicks off another round of general laughter, the good-natured humor being taken for what it is. And for some time, random chatter resumes across the table, idle topics - about everything from the weather in Lindholm and the upcoming tournament - come to pass one by one. Only at the sound of a throat being cleared from behind you does the collective attention of your table notice an elf your age, dressed in the smart white-and-black uniform of an apprentice of Llyneyth Academy, standing behind Azalea's chair. Something about her - neither tall nor short, with long hair that's neither brown nor red, eyes on the border of green and grey - tugs awkwardly at your memory, but you can't quite remember where you know her from, let alone who she is, Thankfully, she's not here for you, her eyes settling on two specific highborns at your table, greeting: "Marienberg. Charmaine."
Azalea gives her a characteristically pleasant smile in the face of the newcomer's air of vague condescension. Wilhelmina merely gives her an acknowledging nod, wry smile vanishing as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by an expression that looks like she's also trying to remember who this elf was. "Hello, Maellyn," Azalea says, and you scramble to try and place the name. "It's good to see you again."
"We didn't have a chance to speak much during the political season, did we?" Maellyn, says this as if it's a dubiously important task that can be picked up at any time.
"We indeed did not. My family was busy entertaining the noble houses of Apaloft, so I don't think we would've had many chances to meet."
"Well, we have a chance to amend that. Our table would be honored by your company." Maelynn pointedly does not offer to join yours with its mixed company, and speaks as though it must be a considerable relief for the two heiresses to get away from their lessers for a time.
"We don't mind dropping over for a bit. Come on, Mina." Azalea rises out of her seat, motioning for Wilhelmina to follow, which she does, although not with any obvious enthusiasm. You're buoyed a little by how much more warmth is in the apologetic smile she flashes at all of you around the table. "We won't be too long, girls."
"Well, there's a pompous ass," Jessica mutters, watching the three of them leave as soon as they're out of earshot. Evidently, the daughter of a human baroness does not quite rate an acknowledgement, highborn or not.
You wrack your brain for where you've seen her forgettable face before. Finally, it comes to you: "Th-That was... Beatrice? Y-Yes, Beatrice Audrey Maellyn. Her house rules Bramberwold here in Lindholm."
"Do you know her?" Jessica seems more surprised that you know this at all than at Beatrice's identity. Presumably the minor noble has met her in passing, or at least knows the name.
"We've...m-met." A bit of an overstatement, describing two incidents wherein Beatrice arrived and completely ignored you in favour of a noble companion you were near at the time.
"Lucky you," Jessica says, grimacing and finishing off her cup of tea - a bit too cold now - like it's a shot of liquor.
"You were at least that stuck up when you first arrived at Faulkren," Helen tells Jessica, grinning.
"What? No, I wasn't!" Jessica insists heatedly, looking over to Nikki for support. Tragically, the Sandrian aseri only shrugs a little lackadaisical.
"I won't say you were that bad, but you did talk like you thought I was stupid half the time. Oh, calm down, you've lightened up a lot."
What follows is Helen attempting to salve Jessica's slightly wounded pride while noticeably not actually taking any part of what she said back. In the distraction caused by this slight spectacle, Nikki glances over to you with an odd, thoughtful expression on her face, one ear twitching very slightly as if she were mulling something over. Finally, she murmurs to you in a furtive voice: "You know, you look even more stressed than usual."
"S-Sorry?" you stammer, wide-eyed. It's true, but you're more than a little taken aback. And just what is "even more than usual" supposed to mean? You're only stressed during difficult social situations. Or when you're thinking about future difficult social situations. Or when there's some kind of test, or...
It's distantly possible that Nikki has a point.
"Vesna told me to keep an eye on you, you know," Nikki continues, not privy to your mental back-and-forth her words have inspired.
That surprises you - just when did Vesna tell her that, and why Nikki in particular? - but you suppose it's nice to hear. "Oh. Where is she?"
"I last saw her going off with Emilie and Mia. I'd have gone off with them, but..." Nikki shrugs, tail flicking back and forth ambivalently, "...well, I'm supposed to be hanging with my squad to stay ready for the tournament. And my poor aseri ears can't handle Mia."
"Mia's an aseri too."
Nikki snorts. "Yeah, that's why she's half-deaf."
You actually sound a little alarmed at that: "I-Is she?" Then you flush again, realising how silly a question that is.
"No, she's not." Nikki's smirk gets considerably wider, then falls off abruptly as she returns to less amusing topics as she looks around to make sure the others at the table are too engrossed in their own conversations. "Seriously, though, even I can tell you looked more worn down than when you were made leader of Squad Four. Sure glad I wasn't picked. Now 'fess up: What's going on?"
You busy yourself by refilling your cup of tea from the pot. It's nearly empty, slightly too dark and slightly too cloudy with tiny fragments of tea leaf. The porcelain isn't quite warm enough against your hands, compared to before. And you're aware that you're thinking about all this to avoid the question, which you know that you can't avoid, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. "I really shouldn't have been made squad leader in the first place," you murmur sullenly, lifting your teacup to your lips.
"Yeah, you probably shouldn't've," Nikki agrees readily, and you almost cough out your tea at her bluntness. "That's what you're stuck with now, though. What brought this up?"
You give her a slightly wounded look at first - you didn't really want it, but you kind of expected Nikki to at least offer a platitude or two - but you get to answering her question after a moment. "The squad isn't g-getting along."
"Well, that took a while, didn't it?" "I mean, you've got Zabanya and Ravenhill and all. They're not exactly the friendliest people. Honestly, I'm surprised you get along with them so well."
You frown. Despite presently being annoyed with both of the elven noblewomen on your squad, you don't necessarily want to let that sentiment stand. "Sieglinde isn't b-bad, just not very social. And Elizabeth is v-very friendly, if..." you flail for the proper way to describe it, "...i-if she l-likes you." You fidget under Nikki's skeptical gaze. "Wh-When they argue, it's usually not bad. They sleep together." Then, upon seeing Nikki's arched eyebrow, you panic and clarify, "B-Beside each other! In s-separate beds! D-D-Dormmates!"
"Yeah, yeah," Nikki quickly cuts you off before you can embarrass yourself further. "I know you don't actually mean the dirty things you say."
"I-I-I don't say dirty things!" you insistently whine as your face glows red.
"What's wrong?" Jessica asks, leaning over towards the two of you from whatever gossip she was caught up in with Helen and another girl from Azalea's squad. She isn't alone; your outburst has caused basically the entire table to look at you, even as you shrink a bit in your seat.
"Nothing," hums Nikki almost nonchalantly as she waves her hand dismissively at her squadmate. "Just a private heart-to-heart. Shoo, shoo." It takes a moment for Nikki to fend off further attention - not only from Jessica, but also from the other girls who seem to want to join your little conversation - but after the other girls finally manage to return to their own discussions, Nikki leans over smirks, and whispers, "You know, I was in the general area when you were screaming something about sunbathing naked when we first got here."
"...Oh." Your face falls as you voice grows small and timid. "You...y-you heard that?" Because you were hoping very hard that no one heard you and Stephanie first met in your shared dorm room at the time.
Nikki gives a little smirk and nods enthusiastically, her pointed, fluffy ears perking up playfully. Even as a small mewl of distress begins escaping from your throat, she cuts off any further expression of horror on your part and asks, "So who pissed them off?"
Your expression changes from one of mortified distress to one of resigned depression. "I did." Then, upon seeing Nikki's surprised, skeptical face, you clarify, "N-Not all of them. Not exactly." Then, upon realizing that this explains nothing in particular - helped along by the aseri's dry look - you sigh and murmur, "W-We all did. A little." Which is also something of a non-answer, but about as specific as you want to get; you don't want to speak poorly of your squadmates to someone uninvolved.
Fortunately, Nikki seems to pick up the hint. "Well, we all get angry with each other every now and then. No one's perfect, we always disagree."
"D-Do you mean your squad?"
Nikki seems surprised at this suggestion. "Not really? I mean, we bicker, but we're mostly fine. You just saw Helen take the piss out of Jessica. Sure, Lady Wilhelmina has a stick up her ass..." and you blush at her turn of phrase, which she completely ignores, "...but she knows what she's doing, you know? Or if she doesn't know what she's doing, she pretends she knows what she's doing. She pushes us pretty hard, checking up if we've been training, doing these stupid stodgy team exercises, but she pushes herself the hardest. We can tell."
That Nikki refers to one highborn as "Jessica" and another as "Lady Wilhelmina" doesn't escape your attention. It certainly solidifies the impression of the elf as nearly unapproachable, also strongly implying the kind of respect even Nikki has for her squad leader. "Lucky you," you grumble a little under your breath, although probably very much audible to Nikki's non-half-deaf aseri ears. "Y-You don't have a squad leader as bad as me."
Nikki fixes you with a dry look. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I've been m-making decisions people don't like. A-And it sometimes feels like only I see anything wrong with things." Which isn't entirely true, but Sieglinde doesn't seem to regard this as a problem that requires addressing at all outside your own decision-making process, and Elizabeth has treated this as an opportunity to make fun of Stephanie.
"Sounds like a mess," Nikki admits freely. And when she sees you deflate dejectedly, she sighs and asks, "Look, do you hate your squadmates?"
"N-No!" you exclaim, sounding horrified at the thought. After giving placating gestures to the other girls who swivel their heads at you in alarm, reassuring them nonverbally that things are alright, you turn back to Nikki and hiss, "Of course not!"
"Do you want to make up with them?"
"Y-Yes."
"Do you think they want to make up with you?"
The "they" is misplaced, seeing how it's only Stephanie who's angry with you. There's no need to be specific with Nikki right now, though, so you just murmur, "I...hope so." This being the first time you've ever gotten into an argument with your roommate - and over something very personal to her - you have no idea whether she's going to hold this grudge against you forever. You can, indeed, only hope.
Nikki shrugs. "Then just leave it be for a bit."
You were admittedly hoping for a little more. Not that you actually really wanted Nikki's feedback - which isn't meant as an insult to her, but you kind of expected to keep all of this to yourself for the time being - but now that she has inserted herself into your woes, you kind of wanted a suggested solution from her instead of...well, just waiting things out. "That...d-doesn't really sound like a solution."
"It's not. But sometimes, people just disagree on something that's important. You can't help it, it's just a thing that happens. And you have to give them some time to be mad at you before you poke at it again." Nikki leans back in her seat, wrapping her fingers behind her head as she does so, looking you over with an expression approaching incredulity. "Seriously, I never would've expected people to get angry at you, and I don't know how that happened, but you didn't seem like someone who goes out of her way pissing people off, it's been a year, and you still don't seem like someone who goes out of her way pissing people off, you know?"
You suppose that's good to know. "I know. I was just...h-hoping to solve things now."
"Well, too bad. If we can solve problems now, we'd have won the war by now."
"It's very unfortunate."
As much as you appreciate Nikki's input, you feel relieved as the heavier topic is set aside, and you join the rest of the table in more lighthearted talk. Or, more precisely, you listen in now that there's less weighing on your mind, electing to say little. Eventually, far sooner than Azalea seems inclined to, Wilhelmina extricates herself from the table of Llyneyth apprentices, setting back into her original seat with an almost harrowed expression.
"That good, huh?" Jessica asks, her voice inflected with both amusement and a hint of perhaps unintended bitterness.
Wilhelmina sighs, "When Azalea wants to drag me somewhere, it's usually easiest just to go along with it. If you want to take my place, you're welcome to it."
"Not after seeing the way you look, coming back."
"I rest my case."
An awkward moment passes before someone from Azalea's squad - perhaps trying to fill the voice of lead socialite - claps her hands together cheerfully and announces, "So what do all of you think about getting cake?"
A happy, approving murmur flutters around the table at the idea of it. Your attention is directed towards the cakes sitting appetizingly on the counter, at least those those remain that haven't already been taken. After pretty much everyone else indicating that they don't really have a preference as to what kind of cake they want, you offer to be the one who goes to pick, being the one sitting closest to the counter. You stand, and the other girls are just about to reach for their coin purses to share the costs when Wilhelmina rises as well, announcing, "Keep your coin. It'll be my treat." The apprentices respond gratefully and with appreciation. It's a gallant gesture, albeit one that's somewhat expected; Wilhelmina's allowance - to say nothing of her family's finances - certainly makes treating her social circle to tea a piece of cake, no pun intended. Still, you're surprised when she starts shooing you with her hands, edging you towards the direction of the counter. "Come on, I'll go pay first."
It's a little awkward to be caught alone like this with a highborn girl you really don't know that much about, especially one as straight-laced - if not outright imposing - as Wilhelmina. So you're looking over five different cakes on the counter when you murmur, "Y-You didn't have to come, Lady Wilhelmina."
Wilhelmina shrugs as she looks over the cakes, but there's something about her body language and general demeanor that suggests she's in any worry to choose. "I wanted to. I'm not good with crowds the way Azalea is. I imagine that's why she drags me out with her all the time."
"I'm sure she's h-happy for the company." Then, motivated less by generic politeness and more by curiosity, you offer, "Y-You're childhood friends, aren't you?"
"I suppose you can say that. I won't say she's easy to deal with, but I do appreciate the thought, at least." She takes a moment to wave away a store clerk eager to help, insisting that she needs a moment to choose. Then, in a tone that's suddenly less disgruntled, she notes, "I imagine our instructors put a lot of pressure on you to come."
"I chose to come." You try to fill the words with as much conviction as you can. To assert to her - and to yourself, honestly - that this is true.
The elven archer scoffs. "Doesn't look like you're happy with the choice. I imagine you're having squad troubles." A moment later, you regret your stunned reaction - surprise that Wilhelmina somehow knows - all but confirming her guess. "Someone didn't want to come, yes?"
"Y-You...can say that," you admit in a slightly crestfallen voice. "H-How did you know?"
"I'm mediocre in many ways, but I do have a keen eye. I wasn't spying on you, but it isn't difficult to spot your unhappiness. Azalea noticed it as well, though I imagine that's due to her friendship with you. And her ability to socialize." She falls silent for a moment, again spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about which cake out of five to get - enough time for you to start wondering about elven noble ladies engaging in false modesty - before asking: "So was it Ravenhill or Stephanie?"
"Y-You don't think it could be Elizabeth?" You don't quite resent her perceptiveness, but it is a little annoying to feel like you're this transparent to so many people. You've never been any good at hiding your emotions, you suppose.
"If you had dragged Zabanya here against her will, I suspect you'd be looking much more than a little downcast. And I expect she's looking forward to an excuse to hurt people, now that it's presented itself."
This is reductive as well as factually incorrect, given that Elizabeth could barely muster the energy to care about the tournament one way or another. It also implies that she might hurt you, beyond something like a sharp ear tug or a mild, half-awake shock. There's only so much you can do to defend someone who demonstratively doesn't actually give much consideration to what her peers think of her, however. Getting to the actual question at hand, you hesitate, not wanting to let others develop negative opinions of your roommate, especially when there are already negative opinions about another of your squadmates flying around. But the alternative, unfortunately, is to let Wilhelmina think it might have been Sieglinde, which is unfair to her. So you reluctantly admit, "Stephanie."
"Ah." Pausing for an uncomfortably long moment to study you, Wilhelmina eventually turns her gaze back to the cakes and allows, "Well, I know almost nothing about her. One would've hoped that someone training to become a Caldran mercenary would be more mature, but I suppose there's no helping fools."
"Stephanie isn't a fool," you insist, nearly snapping as you heatedly come to the defense of your roommate. The mostly-stoic elven highborn seems almost surprised at this as she turns around to look at you with slightly wider eyes, but not nearly as you suddenly feel horrified at the realization that you almost went off on someone you frankly don't really know really outside a few of Azalea's tea parties that both of you happened to be at. But as Wilhelmina's eyes slowly narrow back down to their normal sizes, it becomes clear that she isn't offended; if anything, her expression seems almost expectant, as if inviting you to finish what you meant to say. So, slowly, reluctantly, you whisper, "She...h-has reasons for not coming. And I-I have reasons to come."
"That is the nature of leadership," she shrugs easily. "There may come a day where you must command your subordinates to sacrifices their lives for the greater good."
Your eyes widen at this suggestion. "I-I wouldn't...!" you start. Then you catch yourself. As annoyed as you might be towards her at the moment, you haven't forgotten what Sieglinde said on that snowy day some time after the Roldharen field exercise. Not that she ever needed to tell you, honestly; you've always known that fighting in a war means that you may one day have to lay down your life. But forcing someone to make the ultimate sacrifice - someone you're responsible for, someone who's your friend - is something else entirely. "I-I don't think I can."
"Consider this practice, then," Wilhelmina says almost blithely, certainly to your horror. She turns away once again to ward off the approach of the clerk once again; you don't blame her, given how long you and Wilhelmina are taking to "choose" a cake, almost certainly an excuse for her to get away from groups of people. The clerk scurries away at Wilhelmina's sharp, annoyed tone, although that look softens when she turns back to you and sees your face, sighing, "You're taking this seriously, aren't you? That's commendable. It's a start. But when I say that you may one day need to order those under you to lay down their lives for the greater good, they're not going to do so unless they believe in you, that you know what the greater good is, that it's worth making the ultimate sacrifice because you're a leader who gave that command, who would lay down her own life if it came to it."
"...Oh," you mumble. You suppose that's a very Wilhelmina-esque answer to give, reinforced by Nikki's earlier description of her as someone who only pushes others as hard as she pushes herself. This almost certainly isn't you, though. Insomuch as you might think coming here is the greater good, you are most certainly motivated at least in part by your own desire to come here, and now you're thinking about little aside from how to make up...and your annoyance and frustrations at how all of this has transpired.
"Mina!" comes Jessica's voice from nearly across the shop, calling over to the tall elf next to you. "We're waiting on that cake!"
Wilhelmina sighs as she gives an exasperated wave of acknowledgement back at your table before turning back towards the counter, although she gives you a sidelong glance as she concludes, "Leaders across history have made decisions that many people didn't like, or maybe even downright unpopular. Those who have pulled through did so because until they were proven right, they acted like they're a leader. They believed in it, even though most of them were almost certainly plagued with self-doubt. Many of them probably got proven wrong, for all I know, but they pulled through by acting like a leader, because they believed they were leaders with the burdens of their responsibilities weighing on their shoulders. You need to believe in that too, because people are depending on it, not only when your squad needs to take on the tough decisions, but also when your squad needs to do something as simple as pulling together."
You want to say that it's easier said than done. You wouldn't have done so out of snide contempt, just as a bitter observation about how short you're coming. But you know that Wilhelmina is - at least to a certain degree - probably correct. It's not the cleanest fit what what Sieglinde told you about leadership, about why she doesn't want to be a leader, about how she sees leadership as being able to bring the best out of those under your command; but you suspect that you can only do so if you are able to convince others that you're a competent, confident leader, that you know what you're doing, that you are able to bring out the best in them. That sounds like the furthest possible thing from you, but you've come to Faulkren to change yourself, didn't you? Sure, you've been caught up in a lot more change than you've bargained for, and never would you have thought - even as you came to Faulkren Academy - that being a leader would be among them. But you came here to become more confident, to become more competent, to face challenges and own up to your decisions. You'll just have to roll with it, somehow. You just don't know how.
But you do have one question for Wilhelmina: "D-Do you believe in it?"
For someone who has been almost refreshing pragmatic and direct - at least relative to the other elven highborn girls you've been on speaking terms with, whose answers are almost mind-boggling high-minded, mostly making you feel stupid in comparison - Wilhelmina's reply here is almost philosophical as she quietly answers, "I have to." And before you can ponder on that too long, she sighs and returns her attention to the cakes before her. "Now come on. As much as I'd like to, we can't stall here forever."
You insist that Wilhelmina should be the one to choose, seeing how she's the one paying for it, but after a little back-and-forth between the two of you, you eventually narrow down the selection to two cakes, letting her make the final pick. After paying the embarrassed clerk, the two of you return to much fanfare with a baked cheesecake with a slightly burned and glazened crust topped with elderberries. Even Azalea returns to your table for her slice of deliciously sweet pastry after a while, the conversation turning at last back to easier topics.
And for a while, even as your table rises and begins their return to where you left your wagons at the appointed time, that seems like that would be that. At least until the nine of you are back out in the chilly Lindolm air, walking through Llyneyth's relatively wide roads back towards the convoy, when Azalea is suddenly beside you, asking softly, "Did Mina give you any good advice?"
Honestly, you're not even surprised at this point that someone figured all of this out, and are a bit too tired to even politely feign surprise, even though Azalea would probably be pleased with a pulled-a-fast-one-on-me reaction from you. "I th-think so," you murmur, swiveling your head around to face your dryad counterpart. Then, after giving the matter a bit more thought than just a reflexive attitude, you admit, "I hope so."
Azalea smiles sweetly. "Something about how you need to act like a leader by believing in it? And something about the greater good stuck in there?" she asks with all the cheer and mischief you've come to expect from her. And you must've made a face, because she laughs merrily in response, causing the other apprentices walking in front of you to turn their attention back on the two of you for a moment.
"What's going on?" asks an apprentice from Azalea's squad. "What's so funny?"
"Oh, I'm just teasing Neianne a little," she admits, causing you to pout a little. "I'm afraid you'll have to book an appointment for later."
"You said you'd take it e-easy on me until after the tournament," you mumble after Azalea manages to ward attention away from you.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," giggles the dryad highborn at your expense, although outright laughter has at least finally died out. "I just wanted to say that, you know, Mina's right, of course." Her smile grows even more catlike and mischievous. "She's just a bit...predictable on such weighty matters of state."
You hang your head a little, quietly murmuring, "I don't think she's wr-wrong. I just...I think it's impossible for me to change the way she wants me to, not in time for the tournament."
"Her act is tough to follow," Azalea agrees with a cool nod of her head, no trace of that earlier humor, just a sort of calm resignation to it all. "I try to tell her that from time-to-time, but she can be so very stubborn."
You don't really know that much about Wilhelmina to really comment; in fact, today has been the closest the two of you have had to a remotely close conversation alone with each other. You imagine Azalea is probably correct, given everything you know and have seen about that tall, blonde elven archer from Frevalle. Still, how openly Azalea is speaking of the flaws of someone she's involved with is a little surprising; you actually feel uncomfortable about being privy to this kind of talking-behind-someone's-back by someone else who's nominally very close. So you remark, "You're very harsh on someone you're..." Then you trail off, your face reddening a little.
Unfortunately for you, although Azalea seems genuinely confused as she raises an eyebrow, the small smile forming on her lips - mischievous and teasing - is all too clear a sign that she has picked up on something too juicy to drop. At your expense, of course. "What do you mean?"
Gulping and momentarily rather confused, you whisper, "A-Aren't you...together with L-Lady Wilhelmina?"
Azalea continues to look amused. "Now what makes you think that?"
"Th-The two of you are always...t-together." It seems a bit inadequate, now that you say it out loud, but the two of them have always made a striking pair for long as you've seen them together. Wilhelmina tall, severe, and golden-haired; Azalea beautiful and refined with laughing eyes, leaves so dark and healthy against her own brunette locks that you can't help but be a little jealous. Just a bit. In fact...does she have a flower bud coming in already?
To your immense relief, Azalea does not seize upon this opportunity to tease you too hard, instead simply explaining, "This may surprise you, but I'm afraid we're just childhood friends. She's not my type, and I'm not hers."
"O-Oh." You're honestly not entirely sure whether you should feel surprised by this or not. Maybe a little bit disappointed? They'd be such a good-looking couple.
Azalea waits for a moment or two before sighing in feigned exasperation. "You're supposed to ask me what my type is, so that I can tease you more."
You blush harder. "Y-You said not until after the tournament!" you whine in a reminder.
Aagin, your fellow dryad gives a mock-sigh and concedes, "I did, didn't I? How tragic it is to have my own words used against me. You'll have to make do with Zabanya, then."
The amount of examination people are giving to your platonic relationship with one of your squadmates is honestly starting to get a little tiring. Only Wendy has suggested that the two of you were involved before this, though. "Elizabeth and I aren't t-together either."
If Azalea is actually surprised by your answer, she doesn't show it as she speaks in a kindly, patient voice, "That's certainly not the impression you're giving people. Zabanya seems to genuinely care about you as a person, and she's not precisely someone known for affection. Not that I really have any objections about who you love," she adds quickly, "but you should know the kind of impression it's giving people. Friends or otherwise, the two of you have just been an unexpected combination."
"W-We're just friends," you insist, almost a little flatly. "She's been kind to me. And Sieglinde too, even though people just assume the worst out of both of them." Sieglinde certainly doesn't have the kind of reputation that Elizabeth has, but others have certainly found her unapproachable, if not outright unfriendly. And you haven't forgotten that awkward conversation she and Azalea had during Midwinter's Feast last year, or that political discussion on the convoy of wagons returning to Faulkren from Stengard as summer vacation ended, those uncomfortable moments where two of your friends seem like they're not getting along, not out of any kind of animosity or annoyance towards each other, but simply this kind of disconnect on a fundamental level, an inability to really understand or care for each other.
Although, again, to her credit, Azalea betrays no hint of surprise or annoyance or frustration at what is admittedly a slightly pointed mention of Sieglinde. There's a moment of quiet as she thinks about this, at least...then, in an entirely whimsical by-the-way kind of way, she suddenly adds, "There's a betting pool for whether or not the two of you will get together, you know."
"Wh-What!?" you splutter, wide-eyed and red-faced, nearly oblivious to the other apprentices turning around once again to see what the commotion is about. "Who's betting!?"
"Not telling!" chimes Azalea playfully as she waves away the attention from ahead.
"I thought we were going to tease Neianne after the tournament," Jessica points out.
"Yes, well," the taller dryad playfully sticks out her tongue, "I'm special."
"...Y-You're mean," you mumble once the others have turned back around, returning to their own conversations.
"I don't hear many complaints about it," chimes Azalea happily. But then her expression softens a little, and she asks, "Don't you feel better?"
This gives you a moment of pause. "I...wouldn't describe it as 'better'," you grouse, but admittedly, the embarrassment of being teased a little is probably more welcome than wallowing in your self-pity over your squad. You're grateful for Azalea's concern, if nothing else. But you sigh, "I still have to go back d-dealing with these problems after this, though."
Azalea nods in agreement for a moment, acknowledging your woes, before asking a simple question: "Well, whoever you want to make up with, what about getting her a gift?"
"A...gift?" you ask, momentarily grateful that she doesn't actually ask you who it is you're going through a rough patch with. Then, more to the point at hand, you explain, "I...I don't want to make it look like I'm trying to buy f-forgiveness."
"That's why gifts are cheap. We don't get each other great, expensive gifts, you know? It's the thoughtfulness that counts, the message that you care."
That sounds reasonable to you, although a part of your mind suspects that Azalea's standard for "great, expensive gifts" is probably several orders of magnitude greater than yours. Or who knows; Fulwaite is not precisely a prosperous region of Caldrein, and the Charmaines are merely a barony. You haven't really seen much to suggest that her family is swimming in wealth, just that she's doing better than most of you at Faulkren. Still, that's a bit beside the point. "Okay. What should I get?"
"You're her roommate. Shouldn't you know what to get her?"
She has a point there. It occurs to you just how little you know about Stephanie at the moment. Even with Elizabeth, even with Sieglinde - who seems so mysterious to so many other apprentices at Faulkren - you know well enough to get them some book with a title looking too complicated for you to understand in a few million years. Stephanie's preferences, on the other hand, are completely opaque to you, and you struggle to delve through the past year of memories for any clue as to what she might like. Finally, recalling a distant, inconsequential conversation just before Midwinter's Feast about the bakery of Faulkren, you say, "C-Cupcakes?"
Azalea smiles encouragingly as she points at a bakery that just so happens to be coming up on the left side of the street. "Sounds good enough."
I'm sorry for how long it took, and very nearly just straight up quit. The next update really better not take this bloody long or friggin' else.
[x] ...Azalea, Wilhelmina, Nikki, and Squad Seven.
It is not difficult to find Azalea as you walk alone through the streets of Llyneyth. You only need to look through the windows of certain establishments, what you might call her natural habitat: A tea shop, a steaming cup clasped in her hands, surrounded by a handful of friends. Azalea doesn't waste time, you suppose, anymore than Elizabeth does. She knows what she likes.
Relative to the Aroma back at Faulkren - more cozy and rustic - the Mountain Rose Tea Room, much like the rest of Llyneyth's architectural style, is almost imposing. You're not quite as impressed as you might've been before, not when you've only returned from a trip to Stengard mere months ago, but the high ceilings, polished white-and-black marble walls, and dark wooden panels gives off an imperious atmosphere. You suspect that this establishment meant to replicate an aristocratic sitting room - and given some of their likely clientele further up the mountain, this is hardly surprising - but this resembles more like a diplomatic chamber in Tower Vigilance than a sitting room in an actual noble household.
...Not that you really have any experience with a noble's sitting room outside the Zabanya manor. You suppose Elizabeth's many, many pillows have left an impression.
The bell over the door chimes musically, the wave of warmth overcoming you welcome; the interior is not quite as cold as it looks. The interior seats a fair amount of people, but already most of the seats are occupied. You recognize, of course, those from Faulkren. Looking at you with a small nod of acknowledgement is Wilhelmina Adelaide Marienberg, accompanied by Nikki and the rest of their squad. With Azalea's own squadmates and a few other hanger-ons, they fill out a large table quite readily. But The apprentices from Faulkren aren't alone; aside from a few who seem like locals, there is a larger number of other unfamiliar faces seated at other tables, your age, wearing very conspicuous white-and-black uniforms, and almost all of them gifted with fine elven features.
You have a fairly strong suspicion that these are the apprentices from Llyneyth.
You turn your gaze back to those familiar to you just in time to see Azalea's face light up in recognition. "Neianne!" she calls out cheerfully as she stands from her seat, walking over to meet you halfway as you fidget and bow a little. "Are you joining us?"
"I-If you wouldn't mind," you murmur. You're not quite as uncomfortable as you once were about gatherings such as this; you've never truly considered the highborn of the Confederacy unapproachable - your Caldran sensibilities never really permitted that - but that niggling worry of embarrassing yourself certainly seems less of an acute concern after your summer in Marloch and Stengard.
"Of course not," replies Azalea, guiding you to an extra seat that Nikki has pulled over from an empty table, the Sandrian aseri giving you a lazy, friendly sort of wave as you settle into the proffered seat. "There's nothing quite like some warm tea in weather like this." A dainty grimace crosses her features like a cloud on a sunny day. "I admit, I am not particularly fond of Lindholm's climate. It leaves me feeling listless and gloomy the entire time."
"It's cold," Nikki agrees, commiserating as all of you sit back down into your seats, and as a cup of warm tea swiftly materializes before you. She seems to hold onto her own tea particularly tightly, aseri ears flattened out slightly. Not unlike when you saw her during Midwinter's Feast last year, she is visibly more heavily dressed than most of the other occupants of this tea shop.
"Not the cold in of itself, actually, and more the lack of sun." Azalea shares a glance of mutual displeasure with you, a sentiment that the others, not being dryads themselves, are not able to fully understand. "Just in case you want to know why I didn't want to train here in Llyneyth as an apprentice."
Wilhelmina shoots a dry look over at Azalea as she drones, "That's not why you really came here."
"Oh?" smiles the dryad childhood friend to her elven counterpart. "And how are you so sure? Three years is an awfully long time to spend somewhere in a place as dreary as this."
"It was n-nicer over the summer," you say a little wistfully as you raise your cup for a sip of tea.
There is a flutter across the table, and you realize rather self-consciously - nearly snorting your tea in the process - that they just remembered that you spent a month with Elizabeth. Some of the girls exchange excited whispers, as if this is still a great source of social gossip. Nikki isn't actively taking part in that, but she does give you a slight smirk as if this is all very amusing, at least at a distance. Azalea guards what little awkwardness she feels perfectly; while Wilhelmina doesn't show any hint of displeasure, her expressions looks as guarded as you ran into each other in Stengard along with Elizabeth and Lilith.
"Are you and Lady Zabanya together?" asks a human apprentice from Squad Seven's side of the table excitedly. Helen, if you remember correctly, an Apaloftian freeholder and support mage, although you may have seen her around with a spear recently as well.
Flushing a deep crimson, you quickly protest, "N-No! She's just..." you hesitate for a moment, never certain whether you'd characterize yourself as Elizabeth's "friend", before settling on, "...very kind."
Wilhelmina raises a very obvious eyebrow at your characterization of Elizabeth. Perhaps taking a bit of mercy at your panic, Azalea gracefully interjects, "Her family is very amicable. My parents speak well of both Viscountess and Viscountess-Consort Zabanya, and the two younger sisters are very lovely." You note that nowhere is Elizabeth mentioned here, but she continues, "I've had long conversations with the youngest, Anya Victoria Zabanya."
You nod agreeably, fighting down a bit of embarrassment; Anya was indeed a lovely host when you were in Marloch, but your deepest impression of her is still her penchant for...certain types of romantic novels. Given how the aristocracy mingles, you're hardly surprised that Azalea knows Anya, although now that you think about it, it must be awkward for the daughter of the only dryad Caldran noble house to be on the receiving end of precisely what Anya thinks about dryads, informed by those books she reads. Unless...
"Didn't the other Zabanya sister run off with the army?" one of Wilhelmina's squadmates asks, a dark-haired highborn human girl. Jessica Anise Crasemayn, if your memory for name serves; your vague impression of her being a reasonably competent apprentice is overshadowed by her being the only apprentice who has chosen an axe for a weapon of choice and a straight sword as a secondary. You ought to pay more attention to these things, seeing how she's yet another contestant representing Faulkren Academy.
"Diana?" Azalea fills in, as the conversation begins to split across the table, girls sitting with each other breaking off into several smaller chats to the side. "Yes, that's what I've heard. She's awfully young to do so."
"If she's half as dangerous as Lady Elizabeth," offers an aseri apprentice from Azalea's squad with a bit of a laugh, " you probably don't have anything to fear."
"Competence is no guarantee of survival," Wilhelmina warns with a sudden hint of gravity, cutting any hint of mirth short as the table falls into a slightly awkward silence. There's just an oddly personal tone in which she spoke; you suppose the heir to House Marienberg, like so many other highborn girls, likely has family caught up in the fighting on the Elsparian front.
But Azalea is quit to cut in with a light slap to Wilhelmina's forearm, chiding, "Oh, don't jinx the poor girl. She'll be fine. They're not going to let her run off to the frontlines without training like us. She's probably in a healing or logistics group. I'm just worried she's too young to see...well, war."
"She's going to see it sooner or later."
Azalea gives a theatrical sigh, like a long-suffering sister resigned to the tactlessness of her blunter sibling. "You should be more worried about the tournament." Smiling warmly to the rest of Squad Seven under Wilhelmina, she asks, "Are you girls ready?"
The remaining three members of Squad Seven looks at each other for a moment before Nikki shrugs and allows, "As ready as we'll ever be, I guess. I mean, the idea is that the rest of us will play interference while Lady Wilhelmina picks everyone else off."
"That's not the idea," retorts Wilhelmina with a slightly annoyed look at the rest of her squad. "Were the three of you having conversations behind my back?"
"No," the three instantly respond in unison.
Of course, this only makes Wilhelmina narrow her eyes in suspicion as the rest of the table giggles, but she eventually gives a small sigh and relents. "I'm something of a mismatch with this tournament, in any case. I've always been more of an outdoors survivalist, hiding and picking off enemies with a longbow. I'm not exactly looking for a fair fight. Jessica, Nikki, and Helen are better suited for it."
"You're one of our favorites to win the tournament, you know," Azalea huffs good-naturedly.
"As if," snorts Wilhelmina. "I suspect Treiser has a better chance. Or Squad Four," she suggests, looking at you, causing you to recoil slightly in surprise as attention is suddenly turned once again to you. "You have both Ravenhill and Zabanya, after all. Whatever else you want to say about them, they're exceptional in a fight."
You suppose there's no arguing with that. But then Helen asks, "Where's your squad?" The elven healer of Squad Seven looks earnest and innocent in her inquisitiveness, at least. Azalea has mentioned her to you in passing before, and like Jessica, your impression of her is one of acceptable competence for a Caldran mercenary apprentice. With a spear as her primary offensive weapon of choice, you suspect that she and Nikki have Squad Seven's long-range melee covered.
You try not to make your hesitation terribly obvious as you answer with an explanation you've already spent some time thinking about: "We're...sp-spliting apart today. We all want to do something different, s-so..."
That is, strictly speaking, not a lie. You don't particularly think that either Sieglinde or Elizabeth would deign to spend too much time with the other apprentices, nor with each other. Stephanie has some friends of her own independent of your own social circle, but she did not seek them out over the past week on the journey to Llyneyth, nor did she seem eager to speak to anyone else. You feel a bit of guilt from that - that Stephanie is likely consumed by her worries about what awaits her at Llyneyth instead of merely being angry at you - but you suspect that she'll be trying to find some time alone while in town. So all of you really are going your own ways today, and there's no reason to suggest that there's anything more to it.
Azalea regards you for a moment, and there's a flicker in her expression for the shortest of blinks - perhaps it's concern or doubt - but to her credit, she immediately replaces it with a worriless smile. Wilhelmina is harder to read - she's yet another one of those elves who expresses little blatantly - but she does regard you for a moment longer than is reasonable, icy blue eyes piercing you as easily as a target three hundred meters away. Then, surprisingly, she changes the topic: "Are you nervous?"
"N-Nervous?" you blink helplessly.
"About the tournament. You are taking part."
"A-Ah. Yes. I-I mean..." you take a deep breath before correcting, "...I don't know yet. I'm not really sure wh-what it's going to be like."
Nikki gives you a dry look, droning, "Don't tell me you're not worried about the pressure."
You have. Or perhaps you've considered the pressure that your instructors have directly put on you. Or the pressure that your squadmates have indirectly - inadvertent though it may be - put on you. This isn't precisely the best group with which to bring this up, though, if there is any such "best" group. "I have. But I'm just guessing. I don't really kn-know what it's going to be like. So I just...want to make sure I d-do my best."
"That's the spirit," chimes Azalea encouragingly as cheerful chatter around the table in response to your explanation seems favorable. Wilhelmina herself seems to regard you with the faintest of approving nods. You suppose that's about as good an answer you can give.
"I just want to see you hit someone with that stupid sword of yours," Nikki smirks, and almost instantly you feel your face redden as heat rises to your cheek. "At least once. I don't care if it's just a training weapon."
"I-I'm not going to hit anyone that hard!" you protest.
"Oh, come on, it's fine. They'll have healers ready to take care of any real injuries."
"Training rules apply," Wilhelmina adds helpfully. Or perhaps unhelpfully. "Pull your punches, don't hit the head, and try not to cause serious harm."
"Right," Nikki nods with a hint of satisfaction. "So you can still launch people into the air."
"Didn't you launch Wendy into the air one time?" asks Helen, even as you're horrified by the realization that someone else knows about this.
Nikki's head snaps around to stare at Helen, then you, demanding with an almost inappropriate sense of urgency, "Wait, what?"
"I-It was an accident!" you whine insistently and impotently, ever conscious about how attention from different conversations around the table is now refocusing on you.
Helen shrugs amidst giggles at your expense, elaborates, "It was just after she got her crazy sword, I think."
Turning and locking a mock-offended expression at you, Nikki demands, "Why didn't you wait until I was around for it?"
"I wasn't tr-trying to wait until you weren't around!" you insist, too overwhelmed right now to openly take objection to Helen describing your buster sword as "crazy".
Thankfully, Azalea is merciful enough to finally intervene on your behave, chiding gently despite a cheerful expression that clearly telegraphed she was at least amused at your expense: "Now, now, Neianne has enough pressure to deal with for this tournament. Let's take it easy on her..." she pauses for just long enough for you to give her a grateful look, then finishes to your dismay, "...until after the tournament, yes?"
A bit more mewling on your part and teasing on theirs passes, your face glowing in a luminescent blush and locked into a bit of a pout by the time they've finally had their fill. Azalea is tactful enough, at least, to order a plate of biscuits, and although your expression is still one of a small dryad nursing a bruised ego, the delicious pastries take a bit of the sting out of it as conversation moves on.
Quietly, your ingrained Caldran mercenary apprentice instincts take over even as you indulge in your sweet tooth, looking at the members of Squad Seven chattering with each other. While not necessarily spoken of as a prodigy in the way Sieglinde and Elizabeth are, Wilhelmina Adelaide Marienberg is still known as Faulkren's best shooter; you would know, seeing how she saved you with a longbow back when the Squirrels attacked Faulkren, stopping a direwolf in its tracks with a well-place arrow. She is also proficient with a dagger - certainly more so than you, hinting at previous training - but you don't necessarily see that as a weapon terrible useful in this tournament. Nikki and Helen, meanwhile, wield polearms, although the former is undoubtedly better, complete with a devastating poleaxe; although Helen can defend herself, she will likely focus on healing, leaving the melee to Nikki and Jessica. Where Nikki has chosen a mace as her secondary weapon, Jessica's axe-and-shield combination - plus a straight sword as a backup - makes her a dangerous close-quarters combatant; she doesn't have the kind of range Nikki's poleaxe has, but her equipment is certainly well-suited for both offense and defense.
You step into a tactical mindset. Like Elizabeth in your own squad, Squad Seven's strategy is almost certainly going to revolve around Wilhelmina as long-range support. To a certain degree, ensuring Helen can cast healing magecraft unabated is evened out by her ability to ward off enemies with her spear, but if you were Wilhelmina, you'd have Helen as your last line of defense, protected also by Nikki and Jessica. The two of them would probably make a good offensive pair, in fact, with Nikki's poleaxe striking out from behind Jessica's shield. Of course, that's just the default formation; it's a potent combination of strengths, but it really depends on the composition of the enemy squad. No plan survives contact with the enemy, after all.
"Why didn't your squad enter the tournament?" Jessica suddenly asks, and you snap back to attention as you sense that she's directing the question in your general direction. Looking up at her, though, you realize she's talking to Azalea; she doesn't seem quite malicious, but there's something a little teasing about the way she smirks at Azalea and her three squadmates. "Even Neianne entered."
"I didn't care to participate," Azalea replies primly, "and neither did my squadmates." You glance at the three girls in question; two of them nod along, but the third fidgets a little in her seat, and you wonder if she secretly feels differently. "It's going to be a lot more fun to watch than to get knocked over the head in front of a crowd."
"Better be knocked over the head here than out there," Wilhelmina observes before taking a sip of her tea.
"Don't listen to Mina," Azalea says in a theatrical mock-whisper, looking around the table with wide, conspiratorial eyes. "She just likes an excuse to show off." You catch sight of Nikki half-doubling over in her seat, covering her mouth to disguise a laugh as a cough. Some of the others don't bother concealing their laughter, or make polite grins. Wilhelmina simply raises a blonde eyebrow at Azalea once again, coolly sipping her cup of tea in the manner of someone who has nothing to prove. Azalea mock-pouts in response to this non-reaction, sighing, "You're no fun to tease."
"So I've been told more generally," Wilhelmina agrees.
"The teasing part, or that you're no fun?" Jessica asks, grinning.
Wilhelmina gives her a flat look, rendered abruptly wry by the sliver of a smile coming onto her face. "Yes," she says.
This kicks off another round of general laughter, the good-natured humor being taken for what it is. And for some time, random chatter resumes across the table, idle topics - about everything from the weather in Lindholm and the upcoming tournament - come to pass one by one. Only at the sound of a throat being cleared from behind you does the collective attention of your table notice an elf your age, dressed in the smart white-and-black uniform of an apprentice of Llyneyth Academy, standing behind Azalea's chair. Something about her - neither tall nor short, with long hair that's neither brown nor red, eyes on the border of green and grey - tugs awkwardly at your memory, but you can't quite remember where you know her from, let alone who she is, Thankfully, she's not here for you, her eyes settling on two specific highborns at your table, greeting: "Marienberg. Charmaine."
Azalea gives her a characteristically pleasant smile in the face of the newcomer's air of vague condescension. Wilhelmina merely gives her an acknowledging nod, wry smile vanishing as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by an expression that looks like she's also trying to remember who this elf was. "Hello, Maellyn," Azalea says, and you scramble to try and place the name. "It's good to see you again."
"We didn't have a chance to speak much during the political season, did we?" Maellyn, says this as if it's a dubiously important task that can be picked up at any time.
"We indeed did not. My family was busy entertaining the noble houses of Apaloft, so I don't think we would've had many chances to meet."
"Well, we have a chance to amend that. Our table would be honored by your company." Maelynn pointedly does not offer to join yours with its mixed company, and speaks as though it must be a considerable relief for the two heiresses to get away from their lessers for a time.
"We don't mind dropping over for a bit. Come on, Mina." Azalea rises out of her seat, motioning for Wilhelmina to follow, which she does, although not with any obvious enthusiasm. You're buoyed a little by how much more warmth is in the apologetic smile she flashes at all of you around the table. "We won't be too long, girls."
"Well, there's a pompous ass," Jessica mutters, watching the three of them leave as soon as they're out of earshot. Evidently, the daughter of a human baroness does not quite rate an acknowledgement, highborn or not.
You wrack your brain for where you've seen her forgettable face before. Finally, it comes to you: "Th-That was... Beatrice? Y-Yes, Beatrice Audrey Maellyn. Her house rules Bramberwold here in Lindholm."
"Do you know her?" Jessica seems more surprised that you know this at all than at Beatrice's identity. Presumably the minor noble has met her in passing, or at least knows the name.
"We've...m-met." A bit of an overstatement, describing two incidents wherein Beatrice arrived and completely ignored you in favour of a noble companion you were near at the time.
"Lucky you," Jessica says, grimacing and finishing off her cup of tea - a bit too cold now - like it's a shot of liquor.
"You were at least that stuck up when you first arrived at Faulkren," Helen tells Jessica, grinning.
"What? No, I wasn't!" Jessica insists heatedly, looking over to Nikki for support. Tragically, the Sandrian aseri only shrugs a little lackadaisical.
"I won't say you were that bad, but you did talk like you thought I was stupid half the time. Oh, calm down, you've lightened up a lot."
What follows is Helen attempting to salve Jessica's slightly wounded pride while noticeably not actually taking any part of what she said back. In the distraction caused by this slight spectacle, Nikki glances over to you with an odd, thoughtful expression on her face, one ear twitching very slightly as if she were mulling something over. Finally, she murmurs to you in a furtive voice: "You know, you look even more stressed than usual."
"S-Sorry?" you stammer, wide-eyed. It's true, but you're more than a little taken aback. And just what is "even more than usual" supposed to mean? You're only stressed during difficult social situations. Or when you're thinking about future difficult social situations. Or when there's some kind of test, or...
It's distantly possible that Nikki has a point.
"Vesna told me to keep an eye on you, you know," Nikki continues, not privy to your mental back-and-forth her words have inspired.
That surprises you - just when did Vesna tell her that, and why Nikki in particular? - but you suppose it's nice to hear. "Oh. Where is she?"
"I last saw her going off with Emilie and Mia. I'd have gone off with them, but..." Nikki shrugs, tail flicking back and forth ambivalently, "...well, I'm supposed to be hanging with my squad to stay ready for the tournament. And my poor aseri ears can't handle Mia."
"Mia's an aseri too."
Nikki snorts. "Yeah, that's why she's half-deaf."
You actually sound a little alarmed at that: "I-Is she?" Then you flush again, realising how silly a question that is.
"No, she's not." Nikki's smirk gets considerably wider, then falls off abruptly as she returns to less amusing topics as she looks around to make sure the others at the table are too engrossed in their own conversations. "Seriously, though, even I can tell you looked more worn down than when you were made leader of Squad Four. Sure glad I wasn't picked. Now 'fess up: What's going on?"
You busy yourself by refilling your cup of tea from the pot. It's nearly empty, slightly too dark and slightly too cloudy with tiny fragments of tea leaf. The porcelain isn't quite warm enough against your hands, compared to before. And you're aware that you're thinking about all this to avoid the question, which you know that you can't avoid, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. "I really shouldn't have been made squad leader in the first place," you murmur sullenly, lifting your teacup to your lips.
"Yeah, you probably shouldn't've," Nikki agrees readily, and you almost cough out your tea at her bluntness. "That's what you're stuck with now, though. What brought this up?"
You give her a slightly wounded look at first - you didn't really want it, but you kind of expected Nikki to at least offer a platitude or two - but you get to answering her question after a moment. "The squad isn't g-getting along."
"Well, that took a while, didn't it?" "I mean, you've got Zabanya and Ravenhill and all. They're not exactly the friendliest people. Honestly, I'm surprised you get along with them so well."
You frown. Despite presently being annoyed with both of the elven noblewomen on your squad, you don't necessarily want to let that sentiment stand. "Sieglinde isn't b-bad, just not very social. And Elizabeth is v-very friendly, if..." you flail for the proper way to describe it, "...i-if she l-likes you." You fidget under Nikki's skeptical gaze. "Wh-When they argue, it's usually not bad. They sleep together." Then, upon seeing Nikki's arched eyebrow, you panic and clarify, "B-Beside each other! In s-separate beds! D-D-Dormmates!"
"Yeah, yeah," Nikki quickly cuts you off before you can embarrass yourself further. "I know you don't actually mean the dirty things you say."
"I-I-I don't say dirty things!" you insistently whine as your face glows red.
"What's wrong?" Jessica asks, leaning over towards the two of you from whatever gossip she was caught up in with Helen and another girl from Azalea's squad. She isn't alone; your outburst has caused basically the entire table to look at you, even as you shrink a bit in your seat.
"Nothing," hums Nikki almost nonchalantly as she waves her hand dismissively at her squadmate. "Just a private heart-to-heart. Shoo, shoo." It takes a moment for Nikki to fend off further attention - not only from Jessica, but also from the other girls who seem to want to join your little conversation - but after the other girls finally manage to return to their own discussions, Nikki leans over smirks, and whispers, "You know, I was in the general area when you were screaming something about sunbathing naked when we first got here."
"...Oh." Your face falls as you voice grows small and timid. "You...y-you heard that?" Because you were hoping very hard that no one heard you and Stephanie first met in your shared dorm room at the time.
Nikki gives a little smirk and nods enthusiastically, her pointed, fluffy ears perking up playfully. Even as a small mewl of distress begins escaping from your throat, she cuts off any further expression of horror on your part and asks, "So who pissed them off?"
Your expression changes from one of mortified distress to one of resigned depression. "I did." Then, upon seeing Nikki's surprised, skeptical face, you clarify, "N-Not all of them. Not exactly." Then, upon realizing that this explains nothing in particular - helped along by the aseri's dry look - you sigh and murmur, "W-We all did. A little." Which is also something of a non-answer, but about as specific as you want to get; you don't want to speak poorly of your squadmates to someone uninvolved.
Fortunately, Nikki seems to pick up the hint. "Well, we all get angry with each other every now and then. No one's perfect, we always disagree."
"D-Do you mean your squad?"
Nikki seems surprised at this suggestion. "Not really? I mean, we bicker, but we're mostly fine. You just saw Helen take the piss out of Jessica. Sure, Lady Wilhelmina has a stick up her ass..." and you blush at her turn of phrase, which she completely ignores, "...but she knows what she's doing, you know? Or if she doesn't know what she's doing, she pretends she knows what she's doing. She pushes us pretty hard, checking up if we've been training, doing these stupid stodgy team exercises, but she pushes herself the hardest. We can tell."
That Nikki refers to one highborn as "Jessica" and another as "Lady Wilhelmina" doesn't escape your attention. It certainly solidifies the impression of the elf as nearly unapproachable, also strongly implying the kind of respect even Nikki has for her squad leader. "Lucky you," you grumble a little under your breath, although probably very much audible to Nikki's non-half-deaf aseri ears. "Y-You don't have a squad leader as bad as me."
Nikki fixes you with a dry look. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I've been m-making decisions people don't like. A-And it sometimes feels like only I see anything wrong with things." Which isn't entirely true, but Sieglinde doesn't seem to regard this as a problem that requires addressing at all outside your own decision-making process, and Elizabeth has treated this as an opportunity to make fun of Stephanie.
"Sounds like a mess," Nikki admits freely. And when she sees you deflate dejectedly, she sighs and asks, "Look, do you hate your squadmates?"
"N-No!" you exclaim, sounding horrified at the thought. After giving placating gestures to the other girls who swivel their heads at you in alarm, reassuring them nonverbally that things are alright, you turn back to Nikki and hiss, "Of course not!"
"Do you want to make up with them?"
"Y-Yes."
"Do you think they want to make up with you?"
The "they" is misplaced, seeing how it's only Stephanie who's angry with you. There's no need to be specific with Nikki right now, though, so you just murmur, "I...hope so." This being the first time you've ever gotten into an argument with your roommate - and over something very personal to her - you have no idea whether she's going to hold this grudge against you forever. You can, indeed, only hope.
Nikki shrugs. "Then just leave it be for a bit."
You were admittedly hoping for a little more. Not that you actually really wanted Nikki's feedback - which isn't meant as an insult to her, but you kind of expected to keep all of this to yourself for the time being - but now that she has inserted herself into your woes, you kind of wanted a suggested solution from her instead of...well, just waiting things out. "That...d-doesn't really sound like a solution."
"It's not. But sometimes, people just disagree on something that's important. You can't help it, it's just a thing that happens. And you have to give them some time to be mad at you before you poke at it again." Nikki leans back in her seat, wrapping her fingers behind her head as she does so, looking you over with an expression approaching incredulity. "Seriously, I never would've expected people to get angry at you, and I don't know how that happened, but you didn't seem like someone who goes out of her way pissing people off, it's been a year, and you still don't seem like someone who goes out of her way pissing people off, you know?"
You suppose that's good to know. "I know. I was just...h-hoping to solve things now."
"Well, too bad. If we can solve problems now, we'd have won the war by now."
"It's very unfortunate."
As much as you appreciate Nikki's input, you feel relieved as the heavier topic is set aside, and you join the rest of the table in more lighthearted talk. Or, more precisely, you listen in now that there's less weighing on your mind, electing to say little. Eventually, far sooner than Azalea seems inclined to, Wilhelmina extricates herself from the table of Llyneyth apprentices, setting back into her original seat with an almost harrowed expression.
"That good, huh?" Jessica asks, her voice inflected with both amusement and a hint of perhaps unintended bitterness.
Wilhelmina sighs, "When Azalea wants to drag me somewhere, it's usually easiest just to go along with it. If you want to take my place, you're welcome to it."
"Not after seeing the way you look, coming back."
"I rest my case."
An awkward moment passes before someone from Azalea's squad - perhaps trying to fill the voice of lead socialite - claps her hands together cheerfully and announces, "So what do all of you think about getting cake?"
A happy, approving murmur flutters around the table at the idea of it. Your attention is directed towards the cakes sitting appetizingly on the counter, at least those those remain that haven't already been taken. After pretty much everyone else indicating that they don't really have a preference as to what kind of cake they want, you offer to be the one who goes to pick, being the one sitting closest to the counter. You stand, and the other girls are just about to reach for their coin purses to share the costs when Wilhelmina rises as well, announcing, "Keep your coin. It'll be my treat." The apprentices respond gratefully and with appreciation. It's a gallant gesture, albeit one that's somewhat expected; Wilhelmina's allowance - to say nothing of her family's finances - certainly makes treating her social circle to tea a piece of cake, no pun intended. Still, you're surprised when she starts shooing you with her hands, edging you towards the direction of the counter. "Come on, I'll go pay first."
It's a little awkward to be caught alone like this with a highborn girl you really don't know that much about, especially one as straight-laced - if not outright imposing - as Wilhelmina. So you're looking over five different cakes on the counter when you murmur, "Y-You didn't have to come, Lady Wilhelmina."
Wilhelmina shrugs as she looks over the cakes, but there's something about her body language and general demeanor that suggests she's in any worry to choose. "I wanted to. I'm not good with crowds the way Azalea is. I imagine that's why she drags me out with her all the time."
"I'm sure she's h-happy for the company." Then, motivated less by generic politeness and more by curiosity, you offer, "Y-You're childhood friends, aren't you?"
"I suppose you can say that. I won't say she's easy to deal with, but I do appreciate the thought, at least." She takes a moment to wave away a store clerk eager to help, insisting that she needs a moment to choose. Then, in a tone that's suddenly less disgruntled, she notes, "I imagine our instructors put a lot of pressure on you to come."
"I chose to come." You try to fill the words with as much conviction as you can. To assert to her - and to yourself, honestly - that this is true.
The elven archer scoffs. "Doesn't look like you're happy with the choice. I imagine you're having squad troubles." A moment later, you regret your stunned reaction - surprise that Wilhelmina somehow knows - all but confirming her guess. "Someone didn't want to come, yes?"
"Y-You...can say that," you admit in a slightly crestfallen voice. "H-How did you know?"
"I'm mediocre in many ways, but I do have a keen eye. I wasn't spying on you, but it isn't difficult to spot your unhappiness. Azalea noticed it as well, though I imagine that's due to her friendship with you. And her ability to socialize." She falls silent for a moment, again spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about which cake out of five to get - enough time for you to start wondering about elven noble ladies engaging in false modesty - before asking: "So was it Ravenhill or Stephanie?"
"Y-You don't think it could be Elizabeth?" You don't quite resent her perceptiveness, but it is a little annoying to feel like you're this transparent to so many people. You've never been any good at hiding your emotions, you suppose.
"If you had dragged Zabanya here against her will, I suspect you'd be looking much more than a little downcast. And I expect she's looking forward to an excuse to hurt people, now that it's presented itself."
This is reductive as well as factually incorrect, given that Elizabeth could barely muster the energy to care about the tournament one way or another. It also implies that she might hurt you, beyond something like a sharp ear tug or a mild, half-awake shock. There's only so much you can do to defend someone who demonstratively doesn't actually give much consideration to what her peers think of her, however. Getting to the actual question at hand, you hesitate, not wanting to let others develop negative opinions of your roommate, especially when there are already negative opinions about another of your squadmates flying around. But the alternative, unfortunately, is to let Wilhelmina think it might have been Sieglinde, which is unfair to her. So you reluctantly admit, "Stephanie."
"Ah." Pausing for an uncomfortably long moment to study you, Wilhelmina eventually turns her gaze back to the cakes and allows, "Well, I know almost nothing about her. One would've hoped that someone training to become a Caldran mercenary would be more mature, but I suppose there's no helping fools."
"Stephanie isn't a fool," you insist, nearly snapping as you heatedly come to the defense of your roommate. The mostly-stoic elven highborn seems almost surprised at this as she turns around to look at you with slightly wider eyes, but not nearly as you suddenly feel horrified at the realization that you almost went off on someone you frankly don't really know really outside a few of Azalea's tea parties that both of you happened to be at. But as Wilhelmina's eyes slowly narrow back down to their normal sizes, it becomes clear that she isn't offended; if anything, her expression seems almost expectant, as if inviting you to finish what you meant to say. So, slowly, reluctantly, you whisper, "She...h-has reasons for not coming. And I-I have reasons to come."
"That is the nature of leadership," she shrugs easily. "There may come a day where you must command your subordinates to sacrifices their lives for the greater good."
Your eyes widen at this suggestion. "I-I wouldn't...!" you start. Then you catch yourself. As annoyed as you might be towards her at the moment, you haven't forgotten what Sieglinde said on that snowy day some time after the Roldharen field exercise. Not that she ever needed to tell you, honestly; you've always known that fighting in a war means that you may one day have to lay down your life. But forcing someone to make the ultimate sacrifice - someone you're responsible for, someone who's your friend - is something else entirely. "I-I don't think I can."
"Consider this practice, then," Wilhelmina says almost blithely, certainly to your horror. She turns away once again to ward off the approach of the clerk once again; you don't blame her, given how long you and Wilhelmina are taking to "choose" a cake, almost certainly an excuse for her to get away from groups of people. The clerk scurries away at Wilhelmina's sharp, annoyed tone, although that look softens when she turns back to you and sees your face, sighing, "You're taking this seriously, aren't you? That's commendable. It's a start. But when I say that you may one day need to order those under you to lay down their lives for the greater good, they're not going to do so unless they believe in you, that you know what the greater good is, that it's worth making the ultimate sacrifice because you're a leader who gave that command, who would lay down her own life if it came to it."
"...Oh," you mumble. You suppose that's a very Wilhelmina-esque answer to give, reinforced by Nikki's earlier description of her as someone who only pushes others as hard as she pushes herself. This almost certainly isn't you, though. Insomuch as you might think coming here is the greater good, you are most certainly motivated at least in part by your own desire to come here, and now you're thinking about little aside from how to make up...and your annoyance and frustrations at how all of this has transpired.
"Mina!" comes Jessica's voice from nearly across the shop, calling over to the tall elf next to you. "We're waiting on that cake!"
Wilhelmina sighs as she gives an exasperated wave of acknowledgement back at your table before turning back towards the counter, although she gives you a sidelong glance as she concludes, "Leaders across history have made decisions that many people didn't like, or maybe even downright unpopular. Those who have pulled through did so because until they were proven right, they acted like they're a leader. They believed in it, even though most of them were almost certainly plagued with self-doubt. Many of them probably got proven wrong, for all I know, but they pulled through by acting like a leader, because they believed they were leaders with the burdens of their responsibilities weighing on their shoulders. You need to believe in that too, because people are depending on it, not only when your squad needs to take on the tough decisions, but also when your squad needs to do something as simple as pulling together."
You want to say that it's easier said than done. You wouldn't have done so out of snide contempt, just as a bitter observation about how short you're coming. But you know that Wilhelmina is - at least to a certain degree - probably correct. It's not the cleanest fit what what Sieglinde told you about leadership, about why she doesn't want to be a leader, about how she sees leadership as being able to bring the best out of those under your command; but you suspect that you can only do so if you are able to convince others that you're a competent, confident leader, that you know what you're doing, that you are able to bring out the best in them. That sounds like the furthest possible thing from you, but you've come to Faulkren to change yourself, didn't you? Sure, you've been caught up in a lot more change than you've bargained for, and never would you have thought - even as you came to Faulkren Academy - that being a leader would be among them. But you came here to become more confident, to become more competent, to face challenges and own up to your decisions. You'll just have to roll with it, somehow. You just don't know how.
But you do have one question for Wilhelmina: "D-Do you believe in it?"
For someone who has been almost refreshing pragmatic and direct - at least relative to the other elven highborn girls you've been on speaking terms with, whose answers are almost mind-boggling high-minded, mostly making you feel stupid in comparison - Wilhelmina's reply here is almost philosophical as she quietly answers, "I have to." And before you can ponder on that too long, she sighs and returns her attention to the cakes before her. "Now come on. As much as I'd like to, we can't stall here forever."
You insist that Wilhelmina should be the one to choose, seeing how she's the one paying for it, but after a little back-and-forth between the two of you, you eventually narrow down the selection to two cakes, letting her make the final pick. After paying the embarrassed clerk, the two of you return to much fanfare with a baked cheesecake with a slightly burned and glazened crust topped with elderberries. Even Azalea returns to your table for her slice of deliciously sweet pastry after a while, the conversation turning at last back to easier topics.
And for a while, even as your table rises and begins their return to where you left your wagons at the appointed time, that seems like that would be that. At least until the nine of you are back out in the chilly Lindolm air, walking through Llyneyth's relatively wide roads back towards the convoy, when Azalea is suddenly beside you, asking softly, "Did Mina give you any good advice?"
Honestly, you're not even surprised at this point that someone figured all of this out, and are a bit too tired to even politely feign surprise, even though Azalea would probably be pleased with a pulled-a-fast-one-on-me reaction from you. "I th-think so," you murmur, swiveling your head around to face your dryad counterpart. Then, after giving the matter a bit more thought than just a reflexive attitude, you admit, "I hope so."
Azalea smiles sweetly. "Something about how you need to act like a leader by believing in it? And something about the greater good stuck in there?" she asks with all the cheer and mischief you've come to expect from her. And you must've made a face, because she laughs merrily in response, causing the other apprentices walking in front of you to turn their attention back on the two of you for a moment.
"What's going on?" asks an apprentice from Azalea's squad. "What's so funny?"
"Oh, I'm just teasing Neianne a little," she admits, causing you to pout a little. "I'm afraid you'll have to book an appointment for later."
"You said you'd take it e-easy on me until after the tournament," you mumble after Azalea manages to ward attention away from you.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," giggles the dryad highborn at your expense, although outright laughter has at least finally died out. "I just wanted to say that, you know, Mina's right, of course." Her smile grows even more catlike and mischievous. "She's just a bit...predictable on such weighty matters of state."
You hang your head a little, quietly murmuring, "I don't think she's wr-wrong. I just...I think it's impossible for me to change the way she wants me to, not in time for the tournament."
"Her act is tough to follow," Azalea agrees with a cool nod of her head, no trace of that earlier humor, just a sort of calm resignation to it all. "I try to tell her that from time-to-time, but she can be so very stubborn."
You don't really know that much about Wilhelmina to really comment; in fact, today has been the closest the two of you have had to a remotely close conversation alone with each other. You imagine Azalea is probably correct, given everything you know and have seen about that tall, blonde elven archer from Frevalle. Still, how openly Azalea is speaking of the flaws of someone she's involved with is a little surprising; you actually feel uncomfortable about being privy to this kind of talking-behind-someone's-back by someone else who's nominally very close. So you remark, "You're very harsh on someone you're..." Then you trail off, your face reddening a little.
Unfortunately for you, although Azalea seems genuinely confused as she raises an eyebrow, the small smile forming on her lips - mischievous and teasing - is all too clear a sign that she has picked up on something too juicy to drop. At your expense, of course. "What do you mean?"
Gulping and momentarily rather confused, you whisper, "A-Aren't you...together with L-Lady Wilhelmina?"
Azalea continues to look amused. "Now what makes you think that?"
"Th-The two of you are always...t-together." It seems a bit inadequate, now that you say it out loud, but the two of them have always made a striking pair for long as you've seen them together. Wilhelmina tall, severe, and golden-haired; Azalea beautiful and refined with laughing eyes, leaves so dark and healthy against her own brunette locks that you can't help but be a little jealous. Just a bit. In fact...does she have a flower bud coming in already?
To your immense relief, Azalea does not seize upon this opportunity to tease you too hard, instead simply explaining, "This may surprise you, but I'm afraid we're just childhood friends. She's not my type, and I'm not hers."
"O-Oh." You're honestly not entirely sure whether you should feel surprised by this or not. Maybe a little bit disappointed? They'd be such a good-looking couple.
Azalea waits for a moment or two before sighing in feigned exasperation. "You're supposed to ask me what my type is, so that I can tease you more."
You blush harder. "Y-You said not until after the tournament!" you whine in a reminder.
Aagin, your fellow dryad gives a mock-sigh and concedes, "I did, didn't I? How tragic it is to have my own words used against me. You'll have to make do with Zabanya, then."
The amount of examination people are giving to your platonic relationship with one of your squadmates is honestly starting to get a little tiring. Only Wendy has suggested that the two of you were involved before this, though. "Elizabeth and I aren't t-together either."
If Azalea is actually surprised by your answer, she doesn't show it as she speaks in a kindly, patient voice, "That's certainly not the impression you're giving people. Zabanya seems to genuinely care about you as a person, and she's not precisely someone known for affection. Not that I really have any objections about who you love," she adds quickly, "but you should know the kind of impression it's giving people. Friends or otherwise, the two of you have just been an unexpected combination."
"W-We're just friends," you insist, almost a little flatly. "She's been kind to me. And Sieglinde too, even though people just assume the worst out of both of them." Sieglinde certainly doesn't have the kind of reputation that Elizabeth has, but others have certainly found her unapproachable, if not outright unfriendly. And you haven't forgotten that awkward conversation she and Azalea had during Midwinter's Feast last year, or that political discussion on the convoy of wagons returning to Faulkren from Stengard as summer vacation ended, those uncomfortable moments where two of your friends seem like they're not getting along, not out of any kind of animosity or annoyance towards each other, but simply this kind of disconnect on a fundamental level, an inability to really understand or care for each other.
Although, again, to her credit, Azalea betrays no hint of surprise or annoyance or frustration at what is admittedly a slightly pointed mention of Sieglinde. There's a moment of quiet as she thinks about this, at least...then, in an entirely whimsical by-the-way kind of way, she suddenly adds, "There's a betting pool for whether or not the two of you will get together, you know."
"Wh-What!?" you splutter, wide-eyed and red-faced, nearly oblivious to the other apprentices turning around once again to see what the commotion is about. "Who's betting!?"
"Not telling!" chimes Azalea playfully as she waves away the attention from ahead.
"I thought we were going to tease Neianne after the tournament," Jessica points out.
"Yes, well," the taller dryad playfully sticks out her tongue, "I'm special."
"...Y-You're mean," you mumble once the others have turned back around, returning to their own conversations.
"I don't hear many complaints about it," chimes Azalea happily. But then her expression softens a little, and she asks, "Don't you feel better?"
This gives you a moment of pause. "I...wouldn't describe it as 'better'," you grouse, but admittedly, the embarrassment of being teased a little is probably more welcome than wallowing in your self-pity over your squad. You're grateful for Azalea's concern, if nothing else. But you sigh, "I still have to go back d-dealing with these problems after this, though."
Azalea nods in agreement for a moment, acknowledging your woes, before asking a simple question: "Well, whoever you want to make up with, what about getting her a gift?"
"A...gift?" you ask, momentarily grateful that she doesn't actually ask you who it is you're going through a rough patch with. Then, more to the point at hand, you explain, "I...I don't want to make it look like I'm trying to buy f-forgiveness."
"That's why gifts are cheap. We don't get each other great, expensive gifts, you know? It's the thoughtfulness that counts, the message that you care."
That sounds reasonable to you, although a part of your mind suspects that Azalea's standard for "great, expensive gifts" is probably several orders of magnitude greater than yours. Or who knows; Fulwaite is not precisely a prosperous region of Caldrein, and the Charmaines are merely a barony. You haven't really seen much to suggest that her family is swimming in wealth, just that she's doing better than most of you at Faulkren. Still, that's a bit beside the point. "Okay. What should I get?"
"You're her roommate. Shouldn't you know what to get her?"
She has a point there. It occurs to you just how little you know about Stephanie at the moment. Even with Elizabeth, even with Sieglinde - who seems so mysterious to so many other apprentices at Faulkren - you know well enough to get them some book with a title looking too complicated for you to understand in a few million years. Stephanie's preferences, on the other hand, are completely opaque to you, and you struggle to delve through the past year of memories for any clue as to what she might like. Finally, recalling a distant, inconsequential conversation just before Midwinter's Feast about the bakery of Faulkren, you say, "C-Cupcakes?"
Azalea smiles encouragingly as she points at a bakery that just so happens to be coming up on the left side of the street. "Sounds good enough."
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
This is a substantially different conversation than the ones Neianne usually has with the noblewomen she's closer to. I'm kind of imagining Elizabeth's eyes rolling out of her head at "a leader should be willing to die for the greater good".
- Location
- PA
So this was an amusing read. I'll admit part of me wonders if Dryads in general tend towards a certain...Lewdness if only because they don't have the hang-ups other more 'civilizied' folks do. For some reason being civilized means being a prude, or at least that's what history tells us. (Truth I think isn't nearly that simple but eh, don't trust I have the knowledge to talk about that and not screw something up along the way!)
- Location
- in the trash
Smh, missing an opportunity to a joke about wanting to make out instead of making up.
cB557
voOOP
I think that's a typo.
- Location
- ⇙
Some interesting views on leadership and some maybe helpful advice for Neianne. I also like that she's considering how the other teams might fight in the tournament. Shows that she learned quite a bit in her time at the academy.
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
...no, that one's too easy.
You have no one to blame but yourself, Neianne~
Peel back not the layers covering noble intrigues, Neianne. That way lies danger.
*cough* If Neianne hits someone clean, they're going to need a spatula, training weapon or not.
You could've been having fun merchant/low-born shopping therapy instead~
Oh no Neianne they're going to make a courtier out of you yet
Some day Neianne will be getting away with a lot based on the strength of her current reputation.
Today is not that day.
Let's be honest, she's just going to take the opportunity to--
--electrocute someone, but yes.
Yeah, that one's booked out for the next two years solid.
Neianne, it's okay, you don't have to be brief. Really. Please feel free to observe Wilhelmina and Azalea together and narrate in much greater detail.
*flees*
Missing third period for full ellipsis
Haha, nope, that's half the problem!
Glad to see her getting relief by joining one of the light hearted groups, its quite nice seeing her read the type of people we don't know that she knows in passing, provide a window in how other squad happily interact or fight in battle.
While Neianne's squad have their depths, there's this knot over their interaction which does not allow much light heart venting since nobody is much of a social butterfly.
While Neianne's squad have their depths, there's this knot over their interaction which does not allow much light heart venting since nobody is much of a social butterfly.
- Location
- Somewhere
Fortuitous for me to catch up on this quest now, when there's finally a ray of light. I won't deny that the stress and gloom plaguing Neianne didn't affect my keeping up with this quest, but it is just too lovely a story to keep away from.
Stephanie...I'm not happy with where their relationship is right now. I hope they will get to a point where Neianne can ask how she can help her escape attention, like scouting out what knights are here.
Yeah, not going at all would have helped Steph a lot, but with the information Neianne had, she made a decision. Maybe if she had known earlier, it could have been more viable to not split up the squad and actually get some practice as a squad. That didn't happen, and Neianne needs to see if they can all work together. It sucks to be lead sometimes; you don't have the luxury of doing the 'good friend' thing if it clashes with the 'good leader' thing, especially when Neianne is trying so desperately hard to be some semblance of a good leader.
I'm glad we got to know Wilhelmina more, and that Azalea continues to be such an uplifting light. I adore the diversity of this cast: there are so many 'right' answers for each person, but not necessarily for all. This story reminds me so much of the many facets of life, a lens that highlights how very precious they both are.
Looking forward, Steph may be the most problematic of our squad right now, but they all have issues with cohesion. Interesting times ahead.
Thanks for writing, Kei!
Stephanie...I'm not happy with where their relationship is right now. I hope they will get to a point where Neianne can ask how she can help her escape attention, like scouting out what knights are here.
Yeah, not going at all would have helped Steph a lot, but with the information Neianne had, she made a decision. Maybe if she had known earlier, it could have been more viable to not split up the squad and actually get some practice as a squad. That didn't happen, and Neianne needs to see if they can all work together. It sucks to be lead sometimes; you don't have the luxury of doing the 'good friend' thing if it clashes with the 'good leader' thing, especially when Neianne is trying so desperately hard to be some semblance of a good leader.
I'm glad we got to know Wilhelmina more, and that Azalea continues to be such an uplifting light. I adore the diversity of this cast: there are so many 'right' answers for each person, but not necessarily for all. This story reminds me so much of the many facets of life, a lens that highlights how very precious they both are.
Looking forward, Steph may be the most problematic of our squad right now, but they all have issues with cohesion. Interesting times ahead.
Thanks for writing, Kei!
While there's a level of cultural deviation, dryads are probably not significantly lewder than the rest of civilization. While sex is a thing that young girls get embarrassed about, there isn't the kind of puritan Abrahamic stigma towards sex in Iuryis.
i hate me i hate my life
thanks for catching those T_T
I mean, she's managed to not turn her greatsword instructor into salsa sauce yet, so...
Hey there~ Thanks for joining us in participating in my quest. I'm glad you found a nice play to catch up, and I'm glad you've been enjoying our cast of characters~ Still, I'm going to have to set a little expectations here: As I said before, years two and three are going to be heavier, so prepare for an emotional roller coaster~ XD
But seriously, thank you for reading my quest, and may you always be entertained. ^_^;
- Location
- Austria
Yeah, I can definitely second how I appreciate the variety in the cast and in their outlooks. Kei's doing absolutely stellar job there.
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
Doesn't that just mean she's never hit her?
- Location
- Somewhere
"buckle up, creampuff" xP
Also, random question, is Sieglinde pronounced with three syllables or two .-.?
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Having heard Kei say this name out loud, I can confirm that it is three.
Creampuffs are delicious, don't feel bad.
cB557
voOOP
I think we'll be getting to that in a few years.