April themed challenge.

[merikuru]

M/March's master list will come once I've slept off the remainder of a fairly bad allergic reaction. In the meantime...

April's challenge is:

Apriladies!

Got some girlslash? A lady bromance? Sisters (whether bound by the blood of the battlefield or the water of the womb)? Femmes fatales? This is where it all belongs. Let's have some ladies!

All fics written for this challenge should be posted as a comment on this entry (a comment with a link to an offsite post is also fine). If your work has spoilers, please add an [S] tag to the comment title. If it has mature content, please add an [MA] tag.

This theme challenge will end on April 30th, 11:59 PM Central Standard Time.

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A Brighter Path (FE Three Houses, Petra/Edelgard) [S]

[sarajayechan]

Just before her final battle with the Kingdom, Edelgard ordered her to flee back to Brigid and take the throne. You've done well to survive this war, and I've been grateful to you for remaining by my side. That is why you must live, I won't have you joining Hubert and the others under the earth. It's been six years since then.

In fact, today is Edelgard's thirtieth birthday. Is, because news traveled quickly of the end of the war and Petra was shocked to discover Edelgard had survived. The King apparently refused to end her life, even when she attacked him one last time.The next day, she received a letter from Edelgard confirming this. His Foolishness insists I can be rehabilitated, so long as I atone for my crimes. It seems there's a few secrets he wants to uncover with me as well.

Edelgard's letters came sporadically, simple reminders (or reassurances) that she was alive and recovering. She hasn't sent one in a few months, though, and Petra is a bit worried. A bit, because she's sure King Dimitri is taking care of her, but worried nonetheless.

Back when Edelgard declared war on the Church of Seiros, Edelgard had given the Black Eagles a chance to leave her ranks if they wished. Only Dorothea had taken the chance to run, and Caspar had transferred during their school days. One by one, Petra watched the Black Eagles give their lives for Edelgard's cause, seen Edelgard waver each time, and still she had stayed.

You could have gone back to Brigid any time, Edelgard would say, but Petra could never bring herself to. Partly because she felt she owed the person who'd been so kind to her and made her forget she was formally a hostage to Fodlan, but also because even after becoming a public enemy, Edelgard continued to see her and the others as people rather than expendable bodies.

War hardened Edelgard, but Petra could still see her heart underneath. War was extreme, but she knew all Edelgard wanted was to free the world from oppression, lies, and corruption.

Today is Edelgard's thirtieth birthday, and Petra has just arrived in the Kingdom. It doesn't feel like enough to send her a letter or a gift, it's been so long and she wants to see her old friend in person. She worries because what if her time in prison hardened her even more? Or worse, broke her? A person should atone for their crimes, and she knows King Dimitri is a fair ruler, but Edelgard still has many enemies across Fodlan. Those who wished for her death, people who gloated upon learning she was in prison. Upon her arrival, a citizen recognized her and immediately asked why, why would you stay with her, you're lucky she let you live.

Petra ignored them. Such questions and whispers make her angry, but she didn't come here for a fight. She approaches the building, where a guard immediately stops her. Edelgard's been out of prison for a few weeks, living in a manse near the castle. The guard gives her directions, and Petra finds it with the ease of a life spent hunting and tracking wild game.

Edelgard looks older, for certain. Her hair is tied back in a loose braid and she wears a simple country dress, and her posture is tired. Her eyes haven't lost their usual sharpness, though, which is a relief. She looks up from the book she's reading and nearly drops it.

"Petra? What are you doing here? When did you get here? No one told me-"

"I wanted to be surprising you," Petra says. She still strives to grasp Fodlan's language, because it's important to visiting dignitaries and for her own visits to other places. "You are looking..."

"Old," Edelgard laughs sadly. "Dimitri stopped by to wish me a happy birthday, and Mercedes brought me a huge basket of sweets." There's also a bouquet of flowers, obviously Dedue and Ashe's handiwork, and a few trinkets from the others. "Can you believe it? After I ravaged their homeland and stabbed their king, they've all been so nice."

"That is a good thing, no? They have forgiveness."

"I suppose." Edelgard smiles a little. "I think they want me to stay here."

"But you are unsure." As glad as Petra is to know King Dimitri and his friends are treating her well, Edelgard looks like a nervous guest in a place where the majority don't want her. "I cannot be blaming you."

"Dimitri's the sort of ruler who wants to give all of his subjects a fair say, but this is a case where his word would be law," Edelgard continues. "The majority of the Kingdom hates me, and with good reason. Dimitri can't change that many minds no matter how good a ruler he is, and I wish he'd stop trying. I know he means well, but..."

"He is your family," Petra says. "It is making sense that he wishes to keep you at his side. But your comfort, Edelgard, is what matters most. Have you explained to him how you felt?"

"Many times," Edelgard says. "And he says he understands, but he still feels the need to keep trying. And to think, he once called me stubborn."

"You do not wish to stay."

"It's not that I don't appreciate all they've done for me," she says. "And believe me, I know they did it because they wanted to. They're not spineless jellyfish who just do all their King says...heh, one time Dedue brought me flowers without Dimitri knowing about it. Because he felt like it. Then again, this was after they finally found out the truth about the Tragedy of Duscur and made sure the world knew." Petra nods.

"They have treated you as a friend. But even so..."

"Even knowing they really care about me, and even if I appreciate it, it wouldn't be right. No matter how much time passes, I'll always feel like a visiting stranger only tolerated because Dimitri insists on it." Petra nods.

"I have understanding. And yet, the Empire is no longer. You have not given thought-" She stops herself, it wouldn't be right to make such assumptions. "My apologies."

"No, you're right. I haven't given much thought to what comes next," Edelgard sighs. "Six years in prison, today I'm thirty years old, and I still don't know where I'll go from here. All I know is that this-" she gestures around the manse, at her Faerghus-style clothing-"isn't for me."

"Come with me." Petra's not sure where the thought came from, why it only occurred to her just now, but now that she's said it she can't imagine anything else. "Brigid is not your home, either, but my people will not be having reservations after choosing to aid the Empire. You will have need to adjust to the climate, to a new culture. But...Edelgard, I have dearly missed you. And..." Her cheeks suddenly feel warm. "And it would be an honor to take you home with me."

"Petra..." Edelgard's blushing, too, her eyes momentarily widening. She puts her book down, straightens up, folds her hands nervously on her lap. She seems so shy, so unsure of herself, nothing like the Edelgard she knew for five years. "I don't know, I need to find my own path and that's something only I can do."

"It is not wrong to accept someone's hand when they offer," Petra says. "Edelgard showed me much kindness when I first arrived in Fodlan. The Empire kept Brigid protected during the war. And even when I would have remained at your side, you insisted I live." She holds out her hand for emphasis. "I lived because of you, and I wish to share that life. Please, will you at least offer some thought?"

Deep down, she knows this is a bit of a selfish request. She's always adored Edelgard, to the point where at times it ran deeper than admiration and loyalty. Discovering Edelgard was still alive and would be okay was such a relief, and she wants to make sure she'll never have to say goodbye to her again until they're old.

After a long silence, Edelgard smiles, nodding a little.

"I'd need time to pack," she says. "And...I'd have to make sure Dimitri and the others understand, and you know they'll want to throw me a going-away party." She takes Petra's hand, and Petra squeezes it tightly, lacing their fingers together.

"Your acceptance gives me great joy."


A week later, King Dimitri and Archbishop Byleth happily see them off with hugs and promises to write as often as possible. The sun is unusually bright for early spring in Faerghus, which Petra believes is a sign of brighter days to come.

But Edelgard's smile could put even the brightest sunlight to shame.

Mothers Know (Looking For Alaska; Alaska+Dolores) [S] [cw: bullying, racism, allusions to death]

[sarajayechan]

Why do I bother being friends with boys? Two of them won't speak to her anymore, one of them flat-out cutting off their friendship because she ratted on a couple of privileged assholes. The one she thought she could count on to be even a little different had tried to get some off her just because she offered to share the bed with him.

At least with Marya...okay, it still hurt, but she'd been the one Alaska ratted out. Because when The Eagle caught her with the booze, she'd been so afraid of being sent home she'd agreed to be his faithful stool pigeon even knowing how Culver Creek felt about rats. Even if it meant fucking over someone she called her friend.

Maybe The Colonel was right. Who cared if Marya and Paul were rich, a rat was a rat.

So here she was. Back at Culver Creek, where she'd spent the last few weeks hissed at and ignored with the occasional projectile lobbed at her. Lara and Pudge had cleaned the graffiti off her door like it didn't exist, but that wouldn't stop someone from spraying again. Probably worse next time. It was sheer luck she hadn't been stripped naked and thrown in the lake wrapped in plastic herself before everyone left for the holidays.

Alaska shoved a bookmark into the Vonnegut she'd been reading and put it down, before remembering what the bookmark was. A piece of paper, a phone number she'd taken just to be polite.

Dolores Martin made no bones about whose side she was on no matter how much she loved her son. Alaska had overheard her lecturing him, and even if she knew it wouldn't make any difference it was nice someone was on her side who didn't just want to sleep with her. She dog-eared the page, stuffed the paper into her pocket, and made her way to the pay phone.

(It didn't matter whether or not she had a cell phone, the reception was total shit here anyway.)

Here goes nothing.

"Hello? Who's calling?" The familiar drawl from the other end of the phone felt so warm she couldn't help but smile.

"Hi, Mrs. Martin."

"Alaska Young, didn't I tell you to call me Dolores? I'll let it slide this time, cause you sound like you're worse off than when my son tossed you outta the car," the woman said, and Alaska laughed sadly, fighting back tears. This was a mother, this was the person who could always tell you were upset before you opened your mouth.

"Clearly I've called a psychic hotline by mistake," she said, rubbing furiously at her eyes with her free hand. A warm hand on the back of her head, a big hug, don't you worry about what other people say. "If you've got some free time..."

"Honey, I've got all the time in the world for you," Dolores said. "I take it my boy hasn't come around yet?" Mothers could scold just as fiercely as they could love if they knew their kids were being stupid.

"He's not wrong, you know, I am-"

"Don't say it, don't you say that word," Dolores scolded. "I'm starting to hate that word, and it's not even the worst a person can call another person." A rich white man doesn't have to call a black boy the N word to hurt him, Alaska thinks, remembering what she overheard Sara's asshole father saying at the debutante ball. "I raised my son better than to throw his friends away over some stupid high school code of honor."

"Logically, I should agree with you, but that was before I-" She cut herself off. "It doesn't matter. A little social isolation and harassment won't matter in a year, if I manage to graduate and get myself into one of the top feminist colleges on a scholarship." That's what you always wanted for me, right, Mom?

"What won't matter in a year, honey," Dolores said, "is whether or not one child snitched on another for whatever reason. You're too good a person to be caught up in this, and I thought my son knew better." She sighed. "Honey, if I could do one thing different I'd have tossed both those boys out of the car and given you that ride." Alaska squeezed her eyes shut, emotion bubbling up in her throat and threatening to spill down her cheeks. The Weekday Warriors wouldn't be back till Monday, she was alone, but she didn't even want the little woodland creatures to see her crying.

After this weekend, it's over. Stay away from me, and don't drag Pudge down with you.

At least she'd done something to deserve Marya's rejection.

"I'd never rat on him," she choked. "Marya and Paul can afford the loss, they're rich assholes, but I'd never rat on my friends. Even if The Eagle threatened to send me home, no matter how much I don't want to be there I'd gladly suffer the sacrifice for people I actually give a shit about."

"I know that, honey," Dolores said softly, "and I know deep down my boy understands that, too."

"But-"

"No buts. I don't know the story, and I don't care." I did it to save my own ass, just because I'm still a pathetic little girl who's too scared to go to her old home, scared of her father even though considering how badly I fucked up he's never once hit me for it.

It was dark. She was alone on campus, Dr. Hyde miles away from her as he simmered in his sad reminiscence. Here she stood, crying into the phone to the mother of someone who hated her.

"You'd hate me too if you knew."

"Life's too short to hate people for things that won't matter in a few years," Dolores said softly. "If I were there right now I'd give you a hug. I wish I'd given you more before you left." The bubble of emotion in her throat burst and the tears spilled over, never before had Alaska been so grateful she was alone. "Oh, honey, just let it out, it's okay. It'll be okay."

Dolores sounded so sure of herself that Alaska wanted to believe it.