bonnefois | fic: The Gift

Title: The Gift
Series: Fire Emblem: Awakening
Character/Pairing: Olivia/Virion
Word count: 2422
Rating: PG-13
Author's note: For Samuraiter in Shipswap. The rest of the canon notes are at the end. Multiversecafe was my beta.

Olivia woke to the scent of roses. Strewn in a path across the bed and the floor were rose petals that led to the ornate gold-flecked white wardrobe. Inside new gown of lavender silk waited, specially made just for her. The scent of roses was intimate now, like a caress or soft word, and indelibly entwined in her mind with him. Her husband made everything a grand declaration, so this in itself was no surprise. She was still getting used to his grandiose nature, something that would likely take the rest of her life to grow accustomed to. Or, she thought, she wouldn't. She would expect that each day would be dramatic and grand, she would expect to be surprised, to be swept up and pampered beyond anything she could have dreamt up.

Of course, even with such extravagance, there were challenges. Servants and guests were now technically under her command, though the term duchess felt strange on her tongue. No matter how many times he tried, Olivia couldn't get used to being waited on hand and foot. She allowed cooks and maids to tidy her things, but she wouldn't allow herself to be completely coddled.

She quickly bathed and dressed herself. The silken gown felt wonderful over her skin, flowing like water, but softer. It'd look amazing if she spun.

He must have thought of that particular detail in all the painstaking instructions he must have made. She knew him well enough to know this had been planned months in advance, with likely several drafts of gowns until it was deemed good enough for her. Her husband was ever the perfectionist.

Already she was planning steps to go with this gorgeous gown. The skirt would twirl, turning a different hue. Her reverie was broken by a knock at the door.

"Oh, come in," she said.

The servant woman paused at the door. Even the servants were arrayed in elaborate garb. If Virion had his way, it wouldn't be limited to the castle, and there would be no peasants and no one would ever be hungry or ever had to go in rags. He hadn't found a way to achieve that dream, but she believed that one day he certainly would.

The woman's lips pursed, ever so slightly. It was such a momentary tic, Olivia could almost dismiss it as her usual anxiousness. But it'd happened too often, a polite distaste, the sound of whispers.

"Milady, a missive has arrived for you," the woman said. Her brown hair was up in a severe bun with a golden colored string. Despite all of Virion's attempts, she still looked like a schoolmarm. It was the dourness that lovely clothes couldn't cover.

Or maybe, Olivia thought with some sadness, that dourness only came out around her. Another disapproval she'd have to work to overcome.

"Oh, um—thank you," Olivia said.

It smelled deeply of roses, and with such a lovely penmanship, she knew it could only be Virion. Even though they'd been married a year now, she still regularly woke to love letters left on her pillow. He swore as long as he could hold a quill, she would receive the finest poetry.

She took the letter, and only once she'd ripped the lovely envelope open that she remembered her accidental rudeness.

"Is that all, my lady?" the servant said. She hadn't learned this one's name yet. Olivia mentally reminded herself to work harder to remember every official and servant's name. Even if there were so many, it was expected of her now.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You're dismissed. Th-thank you very much for your service."

The woman bowed, the long, even impractical sleeves on her green dress touched the floor. Her husband, for all his taste and glamor, tended towards the impractical. Cherche's armor had revealed that to her long ago.

The servants called her lady to her face. But they also stared at her with sidelong suspicion, and the undertone of rumors. But they were kind compared to how they treated her husband. It had been a jarring shock to realize what Rosanne thought of their Duke. Virion took every hurled insult with such grace and decorum. They branded him a traitor and coward, when it was the furthest thing from the truth.

She'd been practicing her accent to try to sound stronger and more noble. All her daydreams of being noble left out all the complexities. It'd had been so simple then, a dream that would never come true, just like her theater. She wasn't strong enough to plead his case, and to hold her head up high as a duchess. But she was trying. She'd been practicing words in front of the mirror, of how he'd taught her new dances, how he'd found a way to fund Chrom's army, and given up precious possessions just for a sick couple.

She opened up the letter and finally read the delicate flowing cursive, marked with his own royal seal.

My love, the light of the kingdom and my heart, today marks the first year of our marriage, and many more to come. It seems only a second ago I took your dainty hand in mine in a dance outside of camp. I hope you have slept well, for the festivities will continue well into the night, and I do not mean just the gala planned in your honor. But first, I have something pressing to show you. Inside the wardrobe you will find the final piece. Don the blindfold and wait for my return, for nothing shall ruin this surprise.

She wasn't used to wearing a blindfold. At least, not outside of the bedroom. Just the thought of that made her blush, even though no one had heard.

She checked the wardrobe again, and saw more that she had missed with the servant's arrival. The matching dance slippers fit her perfectly. The inside sole was fitted and soft, until it felt like she was walking on fur with every step.

She held the blindfold in her hands, running her thumb across the soft black material as if it would impart Virion's secrets to her. She didn't have to wait long for him to arrive; she never did. Even with such long hours, of running the state, he always made an effort to take moments out of the day to steal a kiss, and often more.

"You stun me with your beauty every time I see you," Virion said. He touched his heart, like paying fealty, a pledge to her.

She blushed, and clutched the blindfold tighter. She'd thought him handsome in his armor, orderly in the unkempt wilderness, but his royal garb made him even more so. Glit edges sewn in to a dark tunic, his hair tied back in a ponytail that hung down his back.

"The dress is really lovely, thank you. But, I have to ask, um, is the blindfold really... necessary?" Olivia said.

"As I mentioned, it is the utmost importance that this must remain a secret. It would be very hard to achieve other wise. Though if it bothers you, we could make other arrangements. I will cover your eyes myself, with my own hands---"

"Oh, no, I don't mind," Olivia cut in. She put the blindfold over her eyes and her beautiful room, the smile of her husband and the light faded to dark.

"You'll have to lead the way, I can barely see a thing," Olivia said.

He placed his hand on her shoulder, and led her forward.

"There is no need to fret, my love. Soon we will be there, and you will see why this was all necessary."

"Actually...I had something to tell you as well," Olivia said.

"Ah, what a delicious secret that must be. But I pray tell, let mine be first. For yours will surely overshadow mine tenfold.

"Okay...Is it very far?" she said.

"Not that far. A carriage ride away, and what bliss, to have my lovely wife by my side at midday," Virion said.

She took his hand tightly as he led her out of the castle. Only sound could tell Olivia of her surroundings. A door opening, a coachman. So the secret was some ways away. She was led inside to the familiar cushioned space.

"I promise it will not be too long," Virion said.

His voice faded to the sound of horses nickering, the wheels turning and taking them somewhere else. Her husband was nothing if not elaborate.

*

She was slightly unsteady, and gripped his hand quite tight as he helped her down. The scent of pines, and something else greeted her. New wood? And something bitter, perhaps a varnish, or the smell of glue.

It took moments to feel more steady as she leaned against him. She mentally reprimanded herself. Virion was always worried about her getting into the nervous habit of forgetting to eat before a show, and here she'd gone and done it again.

No matter, knowing him, he'd packed enough food for three courses and then some. He never went anywhere unprepared.

"We've arrived?' Olivia said.

"Yes, we have," Virion said. There was a sureness, even smugness in his voice as he undid the knot at the back of her head. Everything came into focus. Beautiful dark arches and beams, a thick door that was open and waiting for her. Inside was a grand hall filled with statues of her, arrayed like a goddess. It was so lovely, and yet so much, she could barely take it all in.

"Ah, this is only the beginning," Virion said.

Past the soft red carpeted hall was other adjoining rooms. The largest at the middle led to a giant auditorium that was more ornate, glorious and beautiful than anything she could have ever hoped for.

Her dream had been scaled down, a theater model, a pine affair to be built near a tavern, perhaps. Something plain and functionary and possible.

But never something as glorious like this.

"I----this---" She circled about, drinking in as much as she could.

"How---what---you---? You really? Virion, I----"

"Yes, my love. Does it meet your standards? Should one board be displeasing to you, I will tear it down and build on more grandiose and fitting to someone and glorious as yourself."

"Oh, don't do that! I love it! But, it's so much, and I---"

He pulled her into his arms, swaying, like they were just about to begin the steps of a complex dance.

"Olivia, my rose, this is a pittance. You have worked tirelessly to support me and clear my name, even when speaking up pains you. The thought that my people would have ever looked on you unkindly wounds me to the core. But you braved that for my sake. It's the least I could do. A woman like you deserves the moon plucked down to be her broach, the sun to adorn her like a crown."

"I can, really have it? This is---I've never seen something so utterly incredible. I never thought that my theater, if it even ever came about, could be like this...."

"I can think of no finer gift than to fulfill your unsaid dreams." He gestured, his delicate cowhide gloves had a glint of gold sewn in that caught the light.

"And now, it is your turn," Virion said. He kissed her palm, her wrist, and clasped her fingers in his, soft leather to skin. "Tell me all these wonderful secrets you have been keeping from me."

"Oh, mine. I..." She blushed, unable to go on.

"Do you need time?" Virion said. "If for you, I would wait twenty years, no, a lifetime!"

"Well, you'd find out long before then," she said, laughing just a little. "You see, I...heard back from the physician, about those fainting spells. You're going to be a f-father."

She wanted to crystallized that moment, keep his tender gaze as a portrait. She would have to resort with memory and all its fallibility to save this moment. The one where she left him speechless.

He lifted her up, spun around in shades of purple. He kissed her everywhere he could reach, her cheeks, her neck, even her shoulders, before clutching her close.

"You have given me more happiness than I ever thought possible. And to think, I was once a traitorous rogue, handsome enough to break thousands of hearts. So many years when I didn't even realize I could feel such depth, such contentment and passion! Ah, love, it is not a rose, but to know you, my love."

She buried her face against him, unable to hide her blush. "You were never a traitor. I'll prove them wrong and clear their name. No one could stay around you long and hate you—they'll realize!"

"With you as my champion, however could I lose?" Virion said. "Their hearts will melt. You could wield your blushes like a weapon, cutting through hard hearts and cynicism until they bow at your feet."

He took her hand in his, fingers laced.

"Will you do me the honor of giving me the first dance?"

"I-I would be honored," Olivia said. "But, I have to admit... while all of this is a wonderful gift, I still haven't gotten over my stage fright. I may never be able to dance here. All this might just be a complete waste."

"My love, no gift to you would ever be a waste, as long as it made you smile. Even if I alone am your audience, or if it is only us upon the stage, it matters not."

She squeezed his hands tighter. No words seemed appropriate, none could match the depth of his gift. But, Virion would always find one, or more likely a hundred beautiful flowery words of poetry to fill whatever spaces her shyness left silent.

Notes: in the supports with the avatar, and some of her other dialogue, it's revealed that Olivia's dream is to build her own theater. One of Virion's married glowing text lines is giving his wife a deed to land in Rosanne.

It's also revealed in the supports with the avatar that she was practicing noble speech. As to why, it wasn't explained.

The fencing precious items for a sick couple does happen in a Libra and Virion Harvest Scramble talk.