Chapter Text
Dorothea adjusted her hat as five bells chimed. She was standing in the courtyard of a monastery which could only be described as massive. It beggared belief, to have a building so large dedicated to the church. Dorothea had expected something bigger than the great church in Enbarr, maybe even something as big as the Imperial Palace – which she had never been allowed inside, of course – but Garreg Mach was something else entirely. Dorothea had to stop herself from staring up at towers which seemed to reach to the sky.
It made her feel very small.
Part of her still couldn’t believe she was here. Her acceptance letter sat in her satchel; she had pulled it out and read it every evening on her journey here. Somehow, this was real. An unwanted child from the streets of Enbarr had been invited to attend the most prestigious educational institution in Fódlan.
Even as she strode up to the door signed with “Incoming students – Adrestian Empire” and presented her letter, she was convinced that she would be told that a mistake had been made, that she should go home, that she was not welcome on these hallowed grounds. But no such comments were forthcoming. Instead, she was waved in.
Inside the large room – a classroom, perhaps? – a large semi-circle of chairs had been placed. Each was labeled with a little card. Some seats were already occupied, but not many; Dorothea had been sure to show up early. Dorothea walked past chair after chair, seeing names like “von Hevring”, “von Gillingr”, “von Hymir”, and “von Varley”. One noble name after another. She forced herself to smile and make friendly eye contact with the few who were already in the room, but she didn’t take them in, not really. She knew they wouldn’t welcome her here. Finally, she found her own name, “Arnault”. She scooped up the card and took her seat, primly. She would look the part of the perfect student, so no one would question that she belonged. But just in case, she tucked the card into her satchel, beside her acceptance letter, so that she could prove she was meant to be here.
It wasn’t long before all the seats were filled. The last to arrive were two of the nobles, of course; a short blue-haired boy all but dragging a tired-looking green-haired boy through the doors.
A stern-looking man wearing a blue uniform stood at the front of the room, and cleared his throat. He introduced himself as Seteth, an advisor to the Archbishop, and the administrator of the Officers Academy. After speaking some words about the years of tradition the school represented and the conduct he expected of all of them, he encouraged each student to take turns introducing themselves, gesturing to his left.
A young woman, relatively petite, rose to her feet and tossed her hair. Something about her bearing exuded arrogance. They had never met, but Dorothea knew who she was immediately. “Well met, my classmates.” Her voice radiated confidence, command. “My name is Edelgard von Hresvelg, daughter and heir of the Adrestian Emperor, Ionius IX. One day, I must rule the Adrestian Empire, but this year, I look forward to working with you all, as a fellow student.” She smiled at them, as one might smile at a pet. She inclined her head, then took her seat.
The young man next to her stood up. “My name is Hubert von Vestra. As is doubtless known to most of you, I am the son of the current Minister of the Imperial Household, and as such, it is my duty to serve and protect Lady Edelgard. I must warn all of you now, I do not look kindly upon any who would make her life difficult. That would be most unpleasant... for this hypothetical person, I mean.” He laughed quietly, a truly disconcerting sound which echoed around the room, then sat down.
“No need to be dour, Hubert!” An orange-haired man bounded to his feet. Dorothea sucked in a breath. Him she had met. “My name is Ferdinand von Aegir, legitimate heir of Ludwig von Aegir, Prime Minister of Adrestia! Our line has served and guided the Empire since...”
Edelgard and Hubert’s introductions turned out to be significantly shorter than was typical. A few, such as the von Hevring and von Varley heirs, managed to be brief, but many others prattled on for great lengths about their lineage, their Crests, and the ways in which their families were, to hear them talk, crucial to the survival of the Empire. Finally, after nearly two dozen of them had spoken, the first commoner was allowed to speak.
Dorothea wondered if others noticed the difference, or if it was just her. As the first commoner, one Renee Villeneuve, introduced herself as a merchant’s daughter, Dorothea let her eyes flicker around the room. Some who had listened intently to every previous speaker were now looking at various decorations around the classroom, or out the window, or whispering to their neighbours. The von Hevring boy actually seemed to be dozing off! Dorothea seethed; it was clear who was not considered welcome here. Worst of all, it wasn’t just the nobles who were paying less attention; it was some of the other commoners too. Dorothea fought down some anger bubbling within her and fixed her gaze on the speaker with a smile. She, at least, would not be rude.
Finally, it was Dorothea’s turn. “My name is Dorothea Arnault. I am the daughter of Mary Arnault.” She was not about to sully her lips with her father’s name. “I am a member of the Mittelfrank Opera Company.” She paused. It was important that she get this right; first impressions were everything. “Well... former member, now. I had a number of starring roles on the stage, but, well, I guess that doesn’t matter here. Still, I have a love of learning, and look forward to a lovely year of education... and getting to know all these friendly faces I see around the room.” She punctuated the last sentence with a coy tilt of her head.
Did they like her? Were any of them interested in her? Perhaps... more than for the other commoners, at least. Doubtless many of them just thought she was pretty and little more, but that was better than total disdain. Slightly better, at least.
The last few commoners took their turns speaking – including the granddaughter of the king of Brigid! – and then finally, Seteth spoke again. “It is a great pleasure to meet such a well-spoken, promising group of students. But, now, to business.” He put his hand on his chin. “All of you are highly talented individuals, or you would not have been invited to this school. Every one of you will be privileged to attend seminars offered by our professors, who are all esteemed individuals at the tops of their respective fields. All of you will earn opportunities as a result of your graduation from the Officers Academy.”
He paused, looking around the room, as if awaiting a question. When nobody spoke, he cleared his voice, looking uncomfortable. “But, only some of you will be admitted into the Black Eagle House. Members of the Black Eagle House will receive additional one-on-one instructional opportunities, and be, in time, assigned actual battalions of soldiers to command. Needless to say, the Black Eagle House will be populated by a small group of particularly exceptional individuals. This year, only eight students will be admitted to the Black Eagle House.” There was some nervous shuffling at that, as well there should be; Dorothea knew that last year, the number had been ten. Seteth seemed to recognize the unease his words had caused. “One of our long-time house professors has retired, and we are still in the process of training his replacement. In light of this, we had little choice but to reduce the number of accepted students to each of our three houses this year.”
He looked around. “And so. Do enjoy the rest of your orientation, and remember that, just by being here, you are ensured the best education Fódlan has to offer. But know that, in two days, we will begin the process of choosing which of you are to be admitted to the Black Eagle House. The first stage will be a written test. Information about that test was sent to you with your acceptance letters; I hope you have all had a chance to peruse them and prepared for this test accordingly. For if you have not, I am afraid it will be too late for much studying now.”
Dorothea looked around the room, hoping to see signs of nerves. No small number looked to be quite pale, none more than the anxious purple-haired girl who had named herself Bernie. Dorothea couldn’t afford sympathy for any of them. She had certainly studied. And she had twenty-two students she needed to beat out for a spot.
Seteth clapped his hands. “But I pray that you will not let any worries ruin your first day at this storied monastery. Now, if you’ll step outside, you will be shown around the grounds. Follow me, students.”
***
Dinner was served in the dining hall. There were no chairs, but instead, the students from Adrestia were encouraged to walk around and mingle, getting to know each other better. For Dorothea, this was a familiar stage, having entertained at many similar gatherings after her performances. She tried to derive confidence from that familiarity, and let none of her nervousness show on her face. After all, this could easily turn out to be the first stage of her courtship with a nobleman here... she just didn’t know who, yet. So she couldn’t afford to make a mistake with any of them.
She was wearing her nicest red dress: modest, but not too modest, providing a little hint of what Dorothea would have to offer her potential suitor. She was still uncertain if she’d made the right choice; most of the other students were still wearing their academy uniforms. By taking the time to get changed, Dorothea now stood out; she hoped that she did so in a way that would make her appear elegant, rather than vain. Taking a deep breath as subtly as she could, she put her plate down on one of the tables and strode up to another person who had taken the time to change, a tall nobleman wearing a black suit emblazoned with the Crest of Macuil and holding a glass of wine.
“Hello there,” she said, making her voice almost a purr. “Fritz von Hymir, right? You certainly cut a gallant figure in that suit. Are you enjoying your first day at Garreg Mach?”
“It is not my first day here,” replied the blond man, smugly. “I have visited this monastery multiple times in the past.” He eyed her. “I must say, I never expected to see a diva at the Officers Academy. Planning to command battalions of dancers on the stage?”
Dorothea was quickly deciding she didn’t care for this one, but she laughed anyway. “You’ve got a charming sense of humour. I look forward to being classmates with you.”
“I am sorry to disappoint you, but I hardly think ‘classmates’ will be an appropriate word for us.” He raised his arms in an exaggerated shrug. “After all, I will be a member of the Black Eagle House, like my father was. And you... will not.” He drained his wine glass with a flourish.
“Well.” Dorothea raised her chin, trying to look down at him even though he was taller than her. “I guess there’s no more reason for us to have this conversation, then.” And she whirled and walked away, trying her best to move gracefully instead of letting her anger show.
Almost immediately, her eyes found another figure, moving towards her. This one was a woman, still dressed in her academy uniform, although it had been custom-altered and was if anything more elaborate than Dorothea’s dress. The silver hair and regal bearing announced her even from a distance. Imperial Princess Edelgard von Hresvelg. And at her side, her retainer, Hubert.
“Well met,” said Edelgard, the smile on her face as stern as her voice. “Dorothea Arnault. I must say, I never would have imagined the famous Mystical Songstress would be on the student list here. I hope it’s not improper for me to say so, but I am a fan of your work. I particularly loved your portrayal of Amelie in Noble Girl of Gronder .”
“And I never imagined I’d get a chance to meet the Imperial Princess,” Dorothea smiled. “Life takes mysterious turns sometimes, doesn’t it?” She turned to say something to Hubert, too, but he just glared at her for a few moments, and then looked away. She held her tongue.
“The Mittelfrank Opera Company won’t be the same without you,” said Edelgard, as if she had not noticed their exchange. “It’s a shame, really... but I imagine you have your reasons for coming here.”
Judging from Edelgard’s tone of voice, she had no idea what those reasons were. She was more polite than Fritz or Hubert, certainly, but at the end of the day, she was another noble who didn’t think Dorothea belonged here.
“Well, you don’t have to imagine. I believe I stated my reasons at our first gathering.”
Edelgard nodded. “You said you... loved learning, as I recall.” Well, at least she had actually been listening. “An admirable trait, and a good reason to attend Garreg Mach, to be sure.” Her voice offered a slight hint that she was unconvinced by Dorothea’s explanation. As well she should be, Dorothea supposed.
But then, if Dorothea told anyone her real reason for being here, they really would kick her out. Deservedly, at that. And then everything she had done to get here... would be for nothing. She held back a shudder.
“Edelgard,” came a woman’s voice, clear and bold. A young woman with dark skin and purple hair drawn up in a long braid approached them. Petra, the woman from Brigid. The princess from Brigid! Dorothea could still hardly believe it. “Linhardt was saying that the examination we are to be taking... it is having rigging. What is he meaning? Is our examination to be on a ship?”
Edelgard’s eyes narrowed, and flitted briefly to Dorothea, then back to Petra. “He probably meant that it is rigged , Petra. Rigging is indeed part of a ship, but to rig something means...” She shook her head, then turned to face Dorothea. “I’m sorry, I am being rude. Dorothea, this is Petra. I’m sure you remember her from earlier today. She is... a guest of the Empire.” Edelgard grimaced at that slightly, and Petra’s face hardened. “But she is also my friend.”
“Please take my apologies for not introducing myself,” said Petra, putting her hand on her chest and bowing. “You are Dorothea, the songstress, is this correct?” At Dorothea’s smile, she continued. “It is pleasing me to be meeting you. Later, I would like to learn about your Fódlan singing. We have much singing back in Brigid.” She turned back to Edelgard. “Can you explain to me, please, about rigging?”
Edelgard glanced at Hubert. The man was still looking away from them, seemingly scanning the room. “I do not believe anyone is listening to us, milady,” he said.
Edelgard placed her hand on her chin, and spoke in a soft voice. “The test is rigged because the results have likely already been mostly decided. I could answer every question wrong, and I would still be named to the Black Eagle House.”
Dorothea suddenly felt an unbearable tightness in her chest.
“But this is not right, Edelgard!” said Petra, shaking her head. “To have a competition, but to be ignoring the results if they are not to your liking... that is no competition at all! In Brigid, we would be ashamed to do such a thing! Why is the church doing this?”
“Because it would be an affront to the great houses of the Adrestian Empire if their heirs were officially noted as being inferior to others,” said Edelgard, simply and sadly. “They would likely stop sending their children here. And more importantly, they would stop donating their money. So...” Edelgard clenched her fist. “We all participate in this farce.”
“So it’s pointless, then,” said Dorothea, unable to keep her mouth shut. She looked down at her feet, as she spoke, knowing that Edelgard probably would not care what she had to say. “I suppose I never really expected to be named to the Black Eagles, but I had hoped that maybe, if I worked hard, there was a chance...” she trailed off. “How foolish of me.”
Edelgard took a step toward her, causing her to look up, directly into the woman’s striking lilac eyes.
“Believe me, Dorothea, I am angry about this too.” There was no fury in her voice, but there was... intensity. “I am tempted to answer all the questions wrong, let them lie and claim I did wonderfully, and then call them on it. It is the right thing to do. Alas... the church would have ways of punishing me for that. And I cannot abide that. Too much rests on my shoulders.”
Dorothea eyed Edelgard warily. The princess sounded genuine, but nobles were natural liars. At the end of the day, this woman would do what benefitted her, like all the others.
“But, Dorothea... and you too, Petra.” Edelgard looked between them. “Do not give up hope. If the test were completely pointless, they would not hold it. They would have chosen their names already. So, we can conclude that there are a few places in the Black Eagle House that may yet be decided by merit. Dorothea, I want you to try your best. And Petra...” She gave a quiet laugh. “Do I even have to ask? I have rarely met anyone who is simultaneously as intelligent and studious as you, and also as skilled in combat. I believe you will overcome any obstacles that are placed in front of you.”
Petra’s purple eyes were burnished steel. “I will be a member of the Black Eagle House, Edelgard. I will be your equal.”
Dorothea mumbled something and slipped away.
She liked Petra, she decided. The Brigid woman seemed kind, but also driven. And if Edelgard’s judgement was to be trusted, then she was very talented as well. Maybe she would give the nobles of Adrestia hell in Dorothea’s place.
But she also did not want to be around either of them right now. She had expected... maybe too optimistically, that she was one of thirty competing for ten spots. And then that ten had become eight. And now, it had become... two or three? At best? She held her head. She hadn’t had any wine yet tonight, but maybe she would allow herself just one. She headed over to the table and picked up a glass.
“Grab me one as well?” came a woman’s voice behind her. Dorothea turned. The speaker was significantly taller than her, which was rare for a woman, with her dark hair done up in a ponytail.
“Of course, Renee,” said Dorothea with a smile, handing her the glass she held, then picking up another.
“Remembered my name, did you?” The tall woman put her free hand on her hip. “Think that makes you the first. Not that I expect manners from nobles. Anyway, nice to meet you, Dorothea.”
Dorothea’s smile became a more genuine one.
“So,” Renee continued, swirling her wine glass. “You’re following Manuela down the pipeline from diva to scholar?”
“Something like that,” said Dorothea, forcing herself to giggle. She couldn’t begin to imagine herself as a scholar; the very word seemed ill-suited to her. The only words that suited her were... She silenced that thought. “And you? What brings you to Garreg Mach?”
“As you may remember, I’m a merchant’s daughter,” said Renee. “But my dream is to be a mercenary.”
“A mercenary?” said Dorothea, unable to keep the concern from her voice. “That sounds... extremely dangerous.”
Renee shrugged. “I’d be good at it. I’m strong, and I know my way around all sorts of weapons. And it’s a way to take charge of your own fate in this world.”
Dorothea shook her head. “Well, I can’t say that’s not a tempting thought. But still, to deliberately expose yourself to violence...” She closed her eyes. “I couldn’t do it.”
Renee looked sad. “Sometimes violence finds you anyway. My mother was killed in Nuvelle, during the Dagda and Brigid War. The enemy ‘mistook’ her convoy for a military one.” Her voice fell. “It was a slaughter.”
“That’s... awful. I’m sorry,” said Dorothea, reaching out to touch the other woman’s hand gently. It was shaking.
“I’m okay,” said Renee. “But... yeah, that’s the short of it. I want to become as strong as I can so that I can protect both myself and others from meeting the same fate as my mom.” For a moment, her eyes locked with Dorothea’s, and neither said anything. Then she laughed, any show of vulnerability melting away. “I must say, I’m feeling pretty jealous of you right now, though! Wish I had your head for academia. After all, if you’re just trying to be a scholar it doesn’t really matter whether you get named a Black Eagle or not. But me? I need that experience commanding soldiers, and I need it bad. It’ll kickstart a merc career like you wouldn’t believe.” She made a punching motion with her fists, which looked a bit comical due to the fact that one was still holding a wine glass. “Those nobles aren’t gonna know what hit ‘em. I’ve studied my ass off for this test, and if I can make it to the next phase of the admission process, I’m as good as in. I doubt many of these pampered babies can hold a candle to me when it comes to a fight.”
Dorothea couldn’t help herself. She smiled, and spoke the plain truth. “Well, I wish you luck, then.”