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Snippet #2789509

located in Fódlan, a part of Fire Emblem: Apotheosis, one of the many universes on RPG.

Fódlan

A continent divided into three different factions: The Adrestian Empire, The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and the Leicester Alliance.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Senka Rinaldi Character Portrait: Amalthea von Kreuz Character Portrait: Mercer von Riegan Character Portrait: Cyril Eisner Character Portrait: Vridel von Hresvelg Character Portrait: Sorcha Blaiddyd Character Portrait: Jeralt's Journal
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I.Y. 1181 - Lone Moon - Tuesday the 9th
Garreg Mach - Evening - Clear
Mercer von Riegan


Today was a rather special, private day, for Mercer. He hadn't told anyone exactly when his birthday was, only that it was this month. Only he knew that it was today. So when he'd spent most of the afternoon with Vridel and Reynard, he'd thought it a rather successful birthday. By the time they'd returned to the academy, it was nearing dinner time, and they had all mostly piled into the dining hall to get food. Of course, Mercer felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end most of the day. Something was up, but he didn't exactly know what it was. He just had to keep his guard up until the feeling went away, he supposed.

He was glad that Teach and Sen were on kitchen duty today. It meant that the food was going to be delicious, and he could stuff his face without worrying too much about the taste. Plus it would make a rather nice birthday dinner. When he collected what he'd wanted, he made his way towards a table and plopped down next to Reynard and Vi.

“So, when's the rest of the group arriving?" he asked, taking a bite out of his bread and arched a brow in their direction. He was, of course, referring to the rest of their friends. They always had dinner together, and it would be especially nice tonight.

Vi shrugged, taking a bite of his thick stew. It seemed to be mostly based around potatoes, with some game and carrots and celery as well. Very filling, and much better-spiced than such a basic dish was probably ordinarily. But Sen and Teach had a way of doing that, kind of. Taking fairly standard recipes and making them better.

“How should I know? They've all got certs and things to study for." Once his spoon was empty he waved it dismissively. “I'm guessing the Professor and Sen will be here soon, though, since they're just in the kitchen."

It did, indeed, only take them a little longer to appear, and then Sorcha did as well, grimacing slightly for some reason. She was carrying a large tome under one arm; it was kind of entertaining watching her serve herself food with only the one hand for everything, but she managed it eventually, and joined the group at the table. The book looked to be a volume on white magic spells, but she set it down on the bench next to her and out of the way before he could be sure.

“How are you all?" she asked, grinding a touch more garlic into her bowl.

Mercer shrugged his shoulders. “Had better days, but otherwise fine," Mercer replied, taking another bite from his bread before working on his own soup. “What about you, Sor? That was a heavy looking book you have there," he stated, motioning with his spoon towards the area where her book was. He supposed that if she were studying for white magic certs, a book that large would be a typical Sorcha book: heavy with a lot of work to get through. He almost snickered softly to himself.

Thea was the next to arrive, rushing into the dining hall as if it were any other day and she was late. Mercer found it a strangely adorable trait of hers, actually. She took a seat next to Vi, though, and placed a baguette near him, perhaps for his soup. She had a fish-based stew from the looks of it.

“Sorry I'm late. I got held up with Lyanna studying for my white magic certs!" she spoke, as if providing her reason. Mercer chuckled lightly but shrugged his shoulders as well.

“It's fine, Thea. You're not even late," he replied, huffing lightly before turning his attention back towards Sorcha.

“Oh, uh..." She grimaced a little again, then shrugged. “Well I know it's a bit late to be taking brand-new certifications, but since I'm mostly happy with where I think my others will land, I... wanted to try officially making something of my interest in white magic, I guess. I won't ever be as good as Vivi, or Sen or Thea, but... I don't know. I thought it can't hurt to know a little."

“Can't hurt to expand your repertoire," Teach said with a small nod. As the man who could do pretty much everything to at least some degree of skill, he probably had some personal experience with that.

“Why 'had better days,' though?" Sorcha asked, her brows knitting. “Is something wrong with today?"

“I agree with Teach, expanding your repertoire could be a good thing for you," she was certainly the type to try and learn different things, Mercer thought. That, and she was always so dedicated to it. It was why he'd found her so endearing to begin with. He huffed lightly, though, at her. “And it's a figure of speech, love. It's actually a really good day, one of the best ones I've had so far. I'm surrounded by my friends, eating food made with love from Teach and Sen," he shot them a grin, “and also eating dinner with said friends. What more could I ask for?"

She flushed a little, eyes falling to her bowl. It wasn't hard to guess what did it—she always seemed to react when he called her something like that. Love.

He didn't think there was really much he could ask for. Mercer truly was happy with the way things were. It hurt, strangely enough, that it was going to end soon. They would be graduating in a couple of weeks, and then they would be going their separate ways. What hurt the most, though, was that he wasn't going to be able to see Sorcha for a long while. Sure, he'd write her letters every day, but he wouldn't be able to see her, and that thought was enough to cause him to smile in a melancholy way in her direction.

“Be careful, Sor, I think he's fantasizing about you," Deirdre spoke as she arrived with Sofia. Mercer snorted softly, the melancholy leaving him as he arched a brow.

Sorcha nearly choked on her glass of water, and coughed. With a soft snort, Reynard patted her on the back.

“And if I was? Does that make you jealous, Deir?" he asked, watching as she rolled her eyes and took a seat with her plate. Before long, Sylvi and Devon arrived, the former looking a little tired. They all chatted amicably with each other, either mentioning what they were studying for, or what they thought they should go for, next.

It was a nice dinner, if anything, and Mercer was glad to leave the day on the note that it landed on.

Probably partly because of certs, though, everyone was done within half an hour or so, even considering the banter and chatter that became part of any meal they all had together. Eventually everyone filtered out, and only he and Sorcha were left to deconstruct their trays. Once they'd done so, she paused to put her large tome in her satchel, but paused, cursing softly under her breath. “You haven't seen my notebook anywhere, have you, Mercer?" she asked, frowning.

It wasn't like her to forget where she put things, however; Mercer shook his head. “I've been out all day with the guys. Did you leave it in the library, perhaps, during one of your study sessions? Or maybe you left it in your classroom?" he suggested, places all plausible she'd been to. He arched a brow in her direction.

“Do you want me to help you find it?" he asked. He had a feeling she'd ask him to, but he supposed he'd ask first.

“I'd appreciate it," she said, looking a bit sheepish. “You do have the best eyes of anyone I know." Something about her smile suggested the hint of an ulterior motive—there was only one thing Sorcha wasn't perfectly straightforward about, though, and that was them. It was quite possible she was happy about getting to spend the time.

“Maybe, uh... maybe we head to the classroom first? I'm sure we can find it if we retrace my day."

Mercer sighed softly. He wouldn't deny that he did think of something more intimate with her, however; he wasn't going to push her. He'd made it obvious that he wanted her in one way, and was subtly making it obvious that he wanted her in the other way. Subtlety was never her forte, though, and he knew this. But he wanted her to be the one to approach the subject when she felt ready. He wasn't like Vi and Thea, or the others. He would make it obvious as much as he could, but would only take the necessary steps when she wanted him to.

“Is that all you want me for, is my eyes?" he joked, batting his eyelashes at her in a playful manner. “And here I thought you wanted me for something more than that," he continued, smiling widely to let her know he was only joking. He did arch a brow at her, though, when she suggested checking the classroom.

“Oh? You know, from this perspective, it almost looks like you're trying to get me alone in the classroom. Is this a strange fantasy of yours, where you have your way with me in a classroom?" he spoke, trying his best not to laugh at her reaction. He was, however, being incredibly serious. She always looked so adorable when her face flushed, and if he were being honest with himself, well... he wondered what other faces she could make.

“Wha—no!" she exclaimed. Predictably enough, she was beet-red, and increased her pace so she was walking ahead of him. Probably so he couldn't see. She might not be straightforward all the time, but she could be very easy to read nonetheless. She glanced once behind her, though, as if unsure whether he'd still be there, and something in her posture eased just slightly when he was.

Of course, then she huffed and turned right back around, ducking into the unlit classroom when they arrived at it. “Oh, wait, I can..." she muttered something, looking intently down at her hands, and a flicker of light appeared there, resolving into a steady sphere a couple inches across, which made it easier to see.

Sorcha made her way over to what must have been her spot, unsurprisingly front and almost center of the classroom. A bit of shuffling didn't seem to yield much; she made a soft noise of frustration.

“I wouldn't—I wouldn't know how to d-do that anyway," she said, still not looking at him. Her tone was oddly vehement, as though she were irritated about something, but that didn't seem to quite be the right word. Sighing, she stepped away from the desk and started towards the door. “I think I went to the library next..."

That was interesting. Mercer moved to intercept Sorcha before she could reach the door, wrapping his arms around her and settled his face next to hers from behind. He could feel a grin on his face as he leaned closer to her ear, just a hairsbreadth away from touching it with his lips.

“If you'd like, I can teach you," he spoke, his voice deep and conveying exactly what he'd meant by that.

Her breath hitched audibly; her face was hot next to his, and he could feel the way she shuddered in his grip. Swallowing thickly, though, she whirled in his arms, reaching up to sieze his collar in both hands. The gesture was ambiguous—she could quite well have meant to throttle him, especially given the rather intense expression on her face.

“You sure you're up to that?" she asked, her voice soft but crackling with challenge, like so many others she'd made of him. And then she pulled him forward and a touch down by the collar, kissing him emphatically.

It was a clumsy sort of thing—Sorcha clearly in fact was not used to them. If anything, the last he'd given her was probably the first she'd had. But she was enthusiastic, at least, almost fierce about it.

To say that Mercer was surprised might have been an understatement. He hadn't expected that reaction from her, but he wasn't put off by it. If anything, he kissed her deeper, threading his fingers into her hair as he turned her around to back her into a table. He only pulled back so that he could take a breath, and stare at her. Even in the dark he could see her, the way she shined and how breathtakingly beautiful it was. He was reluctant to stop, but he had to know. Had to make sure.

“Sorcha," he breathed her name out, heavily, taking in another breath to steady his heartbeat. “Are you sure?" he began, placing a hand on the side of her face. “Is this something you really want?" He would take it no further if she didn't want this, or if she was unsure.

She was shaking, he realized, just a little—trembling in his grip. It didn't seem to be fear, though, because she looked at him with clear, wide eyes, her pupils blown from the darkness, or—or maybe from desire. She flushed anew, biting her lower lip, and nodded. “Please," she breathed, the word so soft it was hardly audible. “I—I want to know what it's like. With you, before we have to—" She swallowed thickly, her grip on his collar easing so she could smooth her hands down his chest, the bright blue of her eyes still unerringly fixed on his.

“If that's—if that would be okay."

He leaned down to press his lips to hers, holding them like that for what seemed like hours, before pulling back to rest his forehead against hers. “Alright, love," he replied, gently moving his hands to the front of her blouse. He leaned back in, keeping his lips to hers as he began working through the buttons of her uniform. As he went to slide it off, a loud explosion managed to shake the academy, knocking a few things off of the shelves. Immediately, he pulled her blouse back on, eyes wide as he glanced towards the door.

“That sounded like it came from the front of the monastery," he spoke in a hurried tone. He nearly cursed the timing of it, however; as much as he'd wanted it, their friends were likely in danger. It would have to wait. He glanced in Sorcha's direction and furrowed his brows. “We'll have to pick up at a later time; let's go check on the others."

He hoped it was an accident, a spell gone wrong, however; the way screams filled the air... it sent a chill down Mercer's spine.

Sorcha blinked, shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts; it took a moment for the situation to register fully, it seemed. When it had, she re-buttoned her shirt with shaking fingers, standing a but unsteadily before she seemed to get her feet underneath her properly. “Dining hall," she said. “We uh—surprise party. For your birthday. That's where they'll be. We should run by the armory just in case." She had a point; their friends were unlikely to be very armed for a party of all things, and the armory was between here and the dining hall.

Buttons fixed, Sorcha gave him a quick nod, and they both left the classroom at a sprint.