[ Nobody has really taught Ferdinand how to send a text message, so he's still a bit formal with them. Especially since being formal is how he copes with nerves.
And oh, is he nervous. He can still scarcely believe how quickly things escalated when he'd discovered that Manuela was to be his co-star, and that largely is because of him. He was downright eager with her, learning his way around her body, and he hasn't been able to get the image of her writhing in pleasure out of his mind. He doesn't want to, and he feels a little guilty about that. ]
Hello, Manuela. I hope you are doing well and that I am not being too much of a bother.
I wanted to thank you for your understanding. Sharing a stage with you, even one like that, was a dream come true, and I hope you do not think me too crass if I say that I enjoyed the experience for other reasons as well. But I thought we might speak about it so that I can set my mind at ease, as well as apologize if I came off as too eager.
My room in the basement is rather shabby and I have precious little to wear, but I have made both the room and myself as presentable as I can. May I invite you when you have a moment?
[ At least he only sends it as one message, so there isn't a flurry of notifications. ]
[ why, yes, manuela has been expecting this. truthfully, she'd been dreading it, but just as sure as she is that the sun will always rise (fake as it is, here) so had she known that ferdinand, were he to remain in this space, would consider it his due diligence to address what is — in her opinion — better left untouched.
oh, don't get her wrong — it's not as if she abhorred what had transpired between them. quite the opposite, and rather obviously at that. but that is where the shame of it rests, isn't it? she can think of no less than five people who would not rest until they lectured themselves blue in the face over how disgraceful she'd acted, and with a former student at that! oh yes, she had had more than enough time to mull over such thoughts. and time some more to drink herself silly in her futile attempts to forget. ]
It's not a bother at all. I'm glad you reached out.
[ because, frankly, she would have been too much of a coward to do it herself. but as much as she might already be withering at the thought of it, they need to discuss what happened. ]
[ In Ferdinand's eyes, of course, Manuela has done nothing wrong. He might be her former student, but to him, that just means that if anything, he's the one who might deserve a lecture. He'd made the first move, and in fact, even his clumsy attempts at flattering her with poetry were, in some small and much more innocent way, his attempts to signal his interest, even if he hadn't expected anything to come of it.
So, this is also a conversation he's been dreading. But the thought of letting things remain unspoken is even more dread-inducing. He's not even certain what he needs to say, only that he wants to make certain she doesn't think poorly of him now, that he hasn't given her some reason to lower her opinion of him. In the heat of the moment, it had been absolutely divine, but once the cameras has turned off, they hadn't exactly had time for proper goodbyes.
And so, his heart races at her response. He doesn't keep her waiting, as while he might just be wearing a simple white, buttoned-shirt and slacks โ hard-won and purchased with the chips he'd been rewarded for his initial "deeds," yet far too plain and non-descript for someone like him to feel comfortable in them โ he has kept his rather drab, closet-sized room as clean as possible, if only to keep himself sane. ]
Of course. My door is in the hallway to the left as you come down the stairs, and it is the second one on the right.
[ He feels awful not coming to get her. Guilty, in fact, but he has a lot to feel guilty about, justified or not. He's scarcely had time to settle in to his room, so he still has difficulty finding his bearings. ]
[ truthfully? this is a good thing. no, no, it's perfect actually. better to get it all out in the open now, before any further disillusionment occurs. better that he know what a mistake it all was, that such a mistake shouldn't ever happen again, that manuela will do her best to ensure he should never have to face such disgrace anymore throughout the duration of his stay.
there are many things she is good at, and a good number of things she could stand to do better in; but if there is one thing manuela will not allow herself to slip on, it is keeping true to her word.
(the promises and resolutions she makes to herself? obviously, they don't count.)
her descent towards the basement is a measured one. the last time she'd been down here had been only a few weeks ago, not quite a full lunar cycle, and it had been far from a pleasant time. though she doesn't drag her feet so as not to keep ferdinand waiting too long (and allow enough time for her nerve to get the better of her) she is not exactly flying down the elevators either. it will have been nearly five minutes by the time she approaches the door he'd directed her towards, and another full minute past that before she can gather enough of a breath to finally speak up. ]
Ferdinand? [ her muffled voice through the wood is distinct, carrying no hint of the tremor in her hands. ] It's Manuela. May I come in?
[ in seconds, she schools her features. not grim, like she's feeling, but rather an even expression that leans on the warmer side of pleasant. she is dressed casually, and not like she is about to lay her dignity out to waste, as she has done countless times before. ]
[ The hour is still early enough that the noises that haunt this level at night shouldn't yet be a problem. He can hear, of course, the distant voices of neighbors or footsteps through the hallway as people come and go. A room with a nice atmosphere it is not, though he considers himself fortunate that his particular room is clean and has passable bedsheets.
He expects a knock, but what he hears instead is her voice. Of course, it's not too muffled considering the poor soundproofing of these rooms. It's a far cry from the sturdy, stone walls of Garreg Mach, that much is for sure, and even the trailer he'd been in upon his arrival was more soundproof than this room. But that works in his favor. Guilty as he may feel about it, he loves the sound of Manuela's voice, and he always has.
Of course, there isn't much room between himself and the door, so rather than answer verbally, he rises onto his feet from the foot of his bed and strides the few steps it takes to open it for her. The door creaks on its hinges rather noisily, but despite his living situation, Ferdinand has put on a warm smile for her.
Of course, in the instant before he talks, his eyes take in the sight of her. The dress looks quite lovely on her, accentuating her figure in a most tasteful manner. She's always had such lovely shoulders, come to think of it, but now isn't the time for him to get distracted. ]
Thank you for coming, Manuela. Please, come in, though I fear that we will need to sit upon the bed.
[ He almost winces at that statement as he steps aside, holding the door open for her. Given their most recent encounter, it must seem as though he's coming on to her, asking her to join him on the bed. And it's not as though the idea is even the least bit unpleasant. There wouldn't be the presence of a camera or another person in the room if they were to become intimate, and sharing a bed with her โ preferably a larger one than this, though โ appeals to him in ways that make his cheeks heat up.
But no, they need to talk. He steps aside and gestures for her to enter, only the soft hint of red on his cheeks hinting at where his errant thoughts may lie. ]
[ she casts the small bed a brief glance, but there is little that can draw her attention from the man who has so kindly greeted her. somehow, the fact he can still smile at her so pleasantly stings far worse than if he were to have met her with disdain or dismissal. both of those, at least, she was far more familiar with. walking into his space under such warm greetings, is a feeling so unfamiliar that manuela finds herself so wholly unprepared. ]
I'll remain standing, if that's alright with you.
[ honestly, who's to say how much longer he would like her in his space? best to be prepared to be asked to leave at any time, than further embarrass herself by making herself comfortable.
so she stands, lingering by the doorway so that her inevitable exit might remain as clean as possible. however this puts her quite close to ferdinand himself, who had closed the door behind her. she hovers quite awkwardly, feeling a little out of her depth for someone who can usually command any room with her presence. instead she finds herself feeling quite small, almost swallowed up entirely by the suffocating confines of the minimal space. ]
Firstly, Ferdinand, I need to apologize to you. [ she draws her gaze up to settle upon his features, even if the brightness of his flush and his smile makes her ache to see. ] My behavior, that day on the set... You must think me a shameful woman.
[ When she declines his invitation, his heart sinks. He expected this to be a difficult conversation, of course, but while Ferdinand always hates to disappoint anyone, there are few he would hate to disappoint more than Manuela. And that's where he thinks this conversation is headed at first, for him to be, at the very least, gracefully chastened. No matter how much they'd both obviously enjoyed their encounter, he wasn't blind to how it must have seemed, for her former student to be so eager to be intimate with her.
But before he has much chance to stew on his feelings and impending attempt at an apology. She quickly takes the initiative and, contrary to what he had expected, gives an apology instead of giving the slightest indication that she's due for one.
He's struck speechless for a second, his eyebrows raised and mouth slightly agape in surprise. He thought he'd been prepared for this conversation, but as it turned out, he was completely and thoroughly unprepared. ]
Apologize? Oh, Manuela... [ He rises from the bed, and given how small the room is, doing so essentially brings him right up to her. His hands move to her shoulders, gentle but firm. ] I had asked you here so that I could apologize. I was worried you would think me to be some lecherous rake, throwing myself upon you at the first opportunity.
[ His heart simultaneously races and aches, a sensation he's grown accustomed to experiencing while listening to her sing mournful arias from her place on the stage. But this time feels different. Her sadness isn't her just getting in-character... it's real, and that hurts so much more to see. ]
You have done nothing that warrants an apology. I felt truly fortunate that my first time was with you, and I still do.
[ she registers, vaguely, that he offers his own apology. and were that all he had said, she might have been that much quicker to understand her own misunderstandings. perhaps they would have been well on their way to finally settling on the same page.
alas, for her ears prickle hot on other words of his. ]
Your... first?
[ she sounds stunned, words seeming to come from some distant, far-off place as her mind struggles to reassess the situation now that she's been given such new information. ]
That was true?
[ this whole time, she had thought it was all just part of the roles they were assigned. certainly, there was no faking that enthusiasm, and certainly she knew that ferdinand, of all people, could not manage much duplicity even on his best try. but in all that she had allowed herself to get so caught up in the fantasy, not once did she actually think she might have been his first... ever.
perhaps it ought not matter much, but even an embittered romantic like manuela is still her own sense of hopeless, and the idea that she might have taken far more from him than she originally thought has her knees feeling weak in all the worst ways.
thank the goddess for the strength of his hands on her, that she could still stay upright even as she sways. ]
Oh, Ferdinand — no. How could you let me curse you like that?
[ the distress is clear in her voice. without much room to separate them, he can see quite clearly the glimmer in her eyes that signal the beginnings of tears, but fortunately they do not fall just yet. manuela can't seem to help the swell of emotions — she had really ruined him far more than she thought, hadn't she? ]
Your first should have been special. With someone special.
[ There have been times in Ferdinand's life, a few momentous occasions, wherein some illusion under which he's been operating has been dispelled. Being from a rather privileged noble upbringing, in fact, there have been many times. His discovery of his father's corruption, the tragedy that befell Remire Village โ learning such lessons has been, unfortunately, an important part of his growth.
The lesson he learns now, however, is on a more personal level: that Manuela, the woman whose magnificence first inspired him to pick up a sword, doesn't think that she's particularly special. And that lesson almost breaks his heart right in two.
He hasn't been ignorant, of course. He knows that during her time at the monastery, Manuela hasn't successfully found a real, lasting love. And who could blame her? She's had her hands quite full, as have all of them. But he'd no idea just how much that affected her. His expression softens, and in a display that's less unconscious and more him simply allowing his hands to move as they wish, he brings the backs of his fingers to her cheek and jaw, brushing them softly over her skin. ]
Manuela... it was with someone special. Why do you think I was filled with such... enthusiasm?
[ His cheeks redden softly, as even the briefest of reminders of their encounter sends both his heart and mind racing. But his tone is undeniably tender, as are the fond smile on his face and his gentle gaze. ]
I would have liked to properly kiss you first, and I could have done with more privacy. But that aside, selfish as it must be of me, I have no regrets.
[ it should have been reassuring. and were manuela not already so mired in her guilt, she might have even indulged in it. but instead she can only feel the pit of her stomach cave in, and the yawning emptiness within her only grows. ]
Someone special... Yes. Your "princess."
[ it's been years since that conversation, and yet manuela can still remember it clear as day. truthfully, she should have corrected him then, but she had been so caught up in his attention, his abject adoration... she couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth. and now her misguidance has done him an even greater disservice.
with a soft sigh, manuela lowers her head. the urge to seek out the comfort his gentle hand offers her is strong โ but she resists. she has already taken far too much from him. ]
I'm sorry, Ferdinand, but you are mistaken. The woman you think so highly of... she is no longer here. Perhaps she was never really around to begin with.
[ she tries to step back, so she might no longer be tempted by the warmth he so readily offers her, but her back only meets the door. she sags against it a little, looking every bit defeated. ]
Surely... you would have heard it. All that was said about me, back in Garreg Mach. While there were certainly... exaggerations, [ to put it lightly, ] it was my reputation for a reason, Ferdinand.
[ She shrinks from his hand, but not in a way that suggests she's upset with him. Inexperienced though he may be, no matter how confident he may seem, he recognizes self-doubt when he sees it.
As she puts it, she as a reputation. Not an overly negative one, as her skill as a healer has always been valued, whether by the Church of Seiros or the Empire's forces. Edelgard herself has even recognized Manuela as someone who is wise and insightful beyond her station. But even Ferdinand has heard the tales of drunken stumbling after a bad date, disheveled rooms, and loneliness.
He allows her to step back, and not wanting to pressure her, he sits on the edge of his bed, patient despite how his heart aches. ]
I have done you a disservice, Manuela. When I spoke to you of my feelings all those years ago, it was not my intention to make you think that I saw you as some idealized version of yourself that only existed on the stage.
[ He casts his gaze downward to the rather drab carpeting on the floor, leaning forward and folding his hands together on his lap. ]
It is not love to overlook someone's shortcomings, but infatuation. And while you could reasonably say that as a boy, I was infatuated with you, I have not been a boy for quite some time. Love is accepting them, and when they want to address those flaws, supporting them through better or worse. There is nothing about you that makes you unworthy of being seen as special, Manuela. And if there is, then there certainly is no hope for someone like me, who was born with every advantage but still cannot overcome my own feelings of inadequacy.
[ for a brief, wild moment, manuela feels a flutter of something that tastes a little like hope and fear swell up in her chest โ but of course a young man so full of ideals like ferdinand wouldn't even bat an eye to how casually he mentions that, love. manuela, on the other hand, feels plucked raw by just the sound of it. this very thing she has longer for for so long.
the goddess blesses her that he should keep speaking, allowing manuela to focus on something else other than what she wants to hear. ]
Oh, Ferdinand...
[ her voice softens. ]
The world will always look upon a man with more forgiveness than a woman.
[ there is a trace of bitterness in her tone, but more than that she is simply somber. ]
Besides that, you are still so young. Any shortcomings you think of yourself right now will whittle away with time. You've so many years ahead of you to reach the heights you've set out for yourself. And how could you not? You, who has never not known how to slow down or give up.
[ they are in the middle of a war, but if there is one thing manuela is going to do or die trying, it's ensure those that she has seen grow into remarkable young men and women get to continue to grow for many, many years to come. it is already far too late for someone like her... but ferdinand, and edelgard, and dorothea and all the rest โ they must still get to live on and have their dreams.
without his hands to steady her, she leans fully against the door now. she closes her eyes and tips her head back, and the sigh that escapes her lips is a wistful one. ]
Undoubtedly you will find the love you speak of, and the honor you crave. You will be respected, and renowned, and if the world should ever hear of your enthusiasms they would only ever call you "passionate" and leave it at that.
[ Manuela has a point, and that point doesn't escape Ferdinand. Even in the world that Edelgard wishes to create, there will be those with outdated opinions and mindsets, and it takes time to change those. If a nobleman were to take multiple romantic or sexual partners, while it would be seen as an indiscretion, it would be just that, not some scandal that forever taints him. Were a woman who were the head of her noble family to do the very same, well, there certainly be more noise around it.
And that ability and willingness to cut down to the ugly truths is part of what makes Manuela Manuela. Whether she's criticizing meager attempts at poetry or commenting on the state of the world, she says what's on her mind. If only he had the words to convince her of the worth of such outspokenness.
As she slumps against the door, his gaze is drawn back to her, to the resignation on her face. The distance between them is still pitifully small, but there are still moments when it feels like a vast gulf. He doesn't know how to convince her of his sincerity, but he does know that he can't be anything but honest with her. ]
I would be remiss if I denied that, coming especially from you, those words bring me some comfort... even as I recognize the sad truths of the world scrawled in the margins.
[ There is a wistfulness in his smile, but one that fades into something more determined. For as long as he's known, he's worried about how he'd be remembered, but there is something more important that he's come to realize. Yes, he wants to make a mark on the world and leave it for the better, but on a personal level, there are other things he wants, too. And looking at Manuela, he can easily see himself finding those. And with that resolve, he rises from the bed, speaking earnestly. ]
But I do not want for what happened between us to simply thought of as an indiscretion. I chose it for myself, of my own volition. And given the chance, I would do so again and again. I would discover every way I could to pleaโ
[ He catches himself mid-sentence, and for an instant, his expression grows a little bashful, and he finds himself fascinated with the patterns in the carpet. Or at least, they're the only thing he can really bring himself to look at. A faint blush spreads across his cheeks, and he continues before too long of a pause. ]
โto provide for you, and to make you feel as special and worthy as you have made me feel.
[ he looks upon her again like he had that day on the set — a fierce intensity behind those amber eyes, blazing proud as he always had, and likely as he always will be. no, she has no doubt he would soar to whatever heights he aims for. and it would be far, far above anything that she could ever even hope to reach.
and that is how it should be, anyway. her time in the spotlight is long past. and like the ways of the world she will always speak so critically about, unlike the younger members of their party who still have so much passion to burn, she has already long since made her peace with the fact that nothing will change for her. ]
...Thank you, Ferdinand. But you don't owe me that. You don't owe me anything at all.
[ she smiles at him now, managing something warm, if a little bittersweet. now that he is standing again, it isn't difficult at all for her to reach out, rest a hand upon his blushing cheek and coax him to look back up at her once more. it is not unlike the touch he had given her, not too long ago, though somehow hers feels much more like a parting gift than the welcoming gesture he had made for her. ]
You have already given me... a most wonderful gift. You reminded a faded old star like me what it felt like to be truly wanted. However much of that was you or the role or the moment, for at least that time, I felt like I could shine again. And now you give me your kindness, so that I can look back on that moment with fondness instead of shame. So — thank you. That is already far more than I could ask for from you.
[ It's a comfort to see her smile, but not nearly as much of one as he'd hoped. It does give him reason for gladness to hear that she can at least look back on their encounter without feeling as though she'd taken advantage of him, and yet, it still doesn't feel like enough. No, it's not nearly enough, and that is still unbearable to him.
His mind races with a million thoughts. Would she still be so full of self-doubt if he'd properly courted her first, or if they'd at least had time to talk things over before getting into it? Would it have helped if he'd taken his time more, no matter how pent up and impatient the both of them had become? For a moment, it feels as though he might be swallowed up by these what-ifs, these doubts plaguing the recesses of his mind.
But there's that sweet smile, not as happy as he'd like, but a smile nonetheless. And there's that lovely voice, thanking him for something that warrants no thanks whatsoever; calling herself faded, when nothing could be further from the truth in his eyes.
He can't bear it any longer. He can't make the years of loneliness and doubt go away, but he can do his damned best to try and make sure there aren't any more of them. He steps from the bed and closes the distance between them until their chests meet, and one hand moves to take hers. ]
Faded? Manuela, I have been unable to take my eyes off of you since I was scarcely even a man. You are more beautiful now than ever, and I will not rest until you have no choice but to concede the point.
[ And with that, he brings her hand up to his mouth. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses her fingers just beneath her knuckles, then presses a second kiss to the back of her hand. He might not be able to convince her, but at the very least, he can convince her that he won't be dissuaded. ]
[ for one cruel, awful moment — manuela almost believes him. his look is so sincere, his touch so gentle. for a time his words create around them a bubble damn near impenetrable, blocking out years and years of hard truths, and manuela feels blossom inside her chest something that feels a lot like hope.
but just like that, the color drains from her face. the light flickers out in her eyes.
it's a funny thing, isn't it? how manuela has longed to hear such sentiments for over a decade now, bent herself repeatedly to new lows in vain attempts to appeal for them, yet in the here and now of finally getting what she wants, she cannot even fathom allowing herself to believe them. ]
More beautiful...?
[ oh, but she doesn't mean to be cruel or dismissive, especially not when he looks upon her so earnestly. but she cannot help but scoff. such pretty words, wrapped in such a handsome package. but for her? preposterous. what has she done to earn them? what has changed that she should receive them now? ]
What madness are you spouting? Do you even hear yourself?
[ and then, all at once, it clicks. pieces of a skewed puzzle slotting themselves into a crude picture, one she honestly should have expected from the start, given where they are. what they're made to endure. ]
It's this place, isn't it? You ingested something, or come across a pheromone. Tell me — did you notice any peculiar scents right before I arrived?
[ yes, surely that's the cause. how much easier it is a pill to swallow, to think that none of this is at all sincere. hastily, she tugs at the hand he holds so tenderly, glancing aside. ]
Have a seat, Ferdinand, you are surely under some sort of spell.
[ Ferdinand has struggled, historically, to get through to people who struggle with their self-esteem. His first, clumsy efforts to make Bernadetta comfortable in Garreg Mach, for instance, earned him a sprained wrist. His attempts to cheer up Marianne had been similarly disastrous, albeit not physically so. Perhaps seeing Manuela as he has for so long has made him similarly poorly equipped to navigate her feelings, and hearing her reject his sentiments so casually stings his pride more than he'd care to admit.
His expression, then, must be truly puzzled as she tries to rationalize what he's saying. He tires to get a word in edgewise, but he's not able to until she pulls him aside. ]
A spell? I assure you, Manuela, I am perfectly of my own mind right now.
[ Still, the easiest thing for him to do is to allow her to tug his hand away and follow the momentum to the edge of his bed, where he takes a seat as directed. He furrows his brow, frustrated with his inability to convince her that everything he felt and everything he said was genuine. ]
I know there are substances here that can make someone more... amorous. But even if I were under their effect now, which I do not think I am, it would not matter.
[ He looks up at her from the bed, not trying to look like a scolded puppy, but probably resembling one all the same. ]
Everything that happened between us... for me, that was entirely natural. The only aphrodisiac I needed was you.
[ oh, how she hates to see that look on his face. how she hates to know she's the one who put it there. but it is a necessary cruelty, if it means he will learn this lesson sooner rather than later.
though he can be so utterly distracting, can't he, when he goes and says such wonderful things like that. manuela hastens to fight back her own color rising to her cheeks; the memory of their time together remains a vivid one, one she can still sometimes feel like a phantom touch on her body. how fortunate that, beneath the knit of her dress, he cannot possibly see how her thighs clench together in a vain attempt for reprieve. ]
...Y-Yes, well. It's quite easy to get caught up in the moment. And โ given it was your first, and how brazenly I threw myself at you... [ yes, see, all these awful, wonderful things he's saying could very easily be explained away. ] Is it any wonder you reacted the way you did?
[ with him seated, she positions herself before him. there is enough of a difference in their heights that he would need to tip his head back just so he can meet her eyes (and avoid a direct-look at her chest). she lifts a hand to his brow, feeling for a fever. elevated heart rate and temperature are sure signs of an aphrodisiac working its way through his system. ]
You're flushed.
[ warm, too. of course, that could be due to his embarrassment, from feeling rebuked or even chastised. manuela hardly means either of those things, but it's important he knows how easily one's body could be manipulated in this place. ferdinand is too kind, too generous โ he is easy prey for the whims of this hotel, who preys on soft souls like his who are always overflowing with affection and sincerity.
she moves her hand down, placing it over his heart, where his loose shirt parts on an undone button. the skin beneath her fingers is warm to the touch. ]
You've done little more than sit and stand but your heart is racing, and your breathing is short. Clear signs of an aphrodisiac. Likely, you're erect, too.
[ she lowers her gaze to his lap โ his pants are of a light enough material (and ferdinand himself is far too large to be discreet) that there would certainly be some telltale tentingโ
[ No matter how much she might insist otherwise, Manuela still has a very powerful presence. Powerful enough that as she moves about, checking him over, he can do little more than sit and allow it. It's actually a bit charming how she slips into her role as a healer, attending to him like he was her patient. But he also knows that in this particular instance, her instincts are wrong. He feels very much himself. His racing heart? His flushed skin? That's all because of her.
Of course, there's a bit more to the flush on his cheeks when he realizes exactly where her gaze has fallen. Instinctively, he presses his legs together, averting his eyes. He doesn't even know what he's embarrassed about, given that in the current situation, there isn't anything to hide. But maybe he wishes that there were, that he could entice her to sit upon his lap and ride him until they're both too sore to move.
Of course, if such thoughts remain in his mind, then he's likely to grow hard anyway, but that's something he's not trying to think about right now. ]
Manuela... it is not just about sex. It has never been just about sex for me.
[ He swallows the nervous lump forming in his throat and reaches for her hand by the wrist, and though his touch is gentle, he firmly keeps her hand over his chest so that she might feel his heartbeat. He locks his eyes with hers, despite how frightening it feels to be so vulnerable and forthright. In the past, he'd hid his interest behind poetry and flattery. This is the most direct he's been with her, and it takes a good bit of willpower for him to even get the words out. ]
My heart raced just like this when we were alone at Garreg Mach and I read poetry to you. And it raced just like this when you gave me the honor of a dance with you.
[ His fingers spread so that they can lace between hers, then close fully. He can feel the subtle signs of age on her well-kept hands, but those aren't unattractive qualities to him. There's a quiet strength to them, and ultimately, it just accentuates her femininity even more to him. ]
And... if you will forgive me for being so crass... our scene together was far from the first time you have made me... [ He clears his throat a little, clearly embarrassed with himself. ] ...erect.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
post-tdm; text (un: vonaegir)
And oh, is he nervous. He can still scarcely believe how quickly things escalated when he'd discovered that Manuela was to be his co-star, and that largely is because of him. He was downright eager with her, learning his way around her body, and he hasn't been able to get the image of her writhing in pleasure out of his mind. He doesn't want to, and he feels a little guilty about that. ]
Hello, Manuela. I hope you are doing well and that I am not being too much of a bother.
I wanted to thank you for your understanding. Sharing a stage with you, even one like that, was a dream come true, and I hope you do not think me too crass if I say that I enjoyed the experience for other reasons as well. But I thought we might speak about it so that I can set my mind at ease, as well as apologize if I came off as too eager.
My room in the basement is rather shabby and I have precious little to wear, but I have made both the room and myself as presentable as I can. May I invite you when you have a moment?
[ At least he only sends it as one message, so there isn't a flurry of notifications. ]
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[ why, yes, manuela has been expecting this. truthfully, she'd been dreading it, but just as sure as she is that the sun will always rise (fake as it is, here) so had she known that ferdinand, were he to remain in this space, would consider it his due diligence to address what is — in her opinion — better left untouched.
oh, don't get her wrong — it's not as if she abhorred what had transpired between them. quite the opposite, and rather obviously at that. but that is where the shame of it rests, isn't it? she can think of no less than five people who would not rest until they lectured themselves blue in the face over how disgraceful she'd acted, and with a former student at that! oh yes, she had had more than enough time to mull over such thoughts. and time some more to drink herself silly in her futile attempts to forget. ]
It's not a bother at all. I'm glad you reached out.
[ because, frankly, she would have been too much of a coward to do it herself. but as much as she might already be withering at the thought of it, they need to discuss what happened. ]
I can meet you now, if that would be alright.
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So, this is also a conversation he's been dreading. But the thought of letting things remain unspoken is even more dread-inducing. He's not even certain what he needs to say, only that he wants to make certain she doesn't think poorly of him now, that he hasn't given her some reason to lower her opinion of him. In the heat of the moment, it had been absolutely divine, but once the cameras has turned off, they hadn't exactly had time for proper goodbyes.
And so, his heart races at her response. He doesn't keep her waiting, as while he might just be wearing a simple white, buttoned-shirt and slacks โ hard-won and purchased with the chips he'd been rewarded for his initial "deeds," yet far too plain and non-descript for someone like him to feel comfortable in them โ he has kept his rather drab, closet-sized room as clean as possible, if only to keep himself sane. ]
Of course. My door is in the hallway to the left as you come down the stairs, and it is the second one on the right.
[ He feels awful not coming to get her. Guilty, in fact, but he has a lot to feel guilty about, justified or not. He's scarcely had time to settle in to his room, so he still has difficulty finding his bearings. ]
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there are many things she is good at, and a good number of things she could stand to do better in; but if there is one thing manuela will not allow herself to slip on, it is keeping true to her word.
(the promises and resolutions she makes to herself? obviously, they don't count.)
her descent towards the basement is a measured one. the last time she'd been down here had been only a few weeks ago, not quite a full lunar cycle, and it had been far from a pleasant time. though she doesn't drag her feet so as not to keep ferdinand waiting too long (and allow enough time for her nerve to get the better of her) she is not exactly flying down the elevators either. it will have been nearly five minutes by the time she approaches the door he'd directed her towards, and another full minute past that before she can gather enough of a breath to finally speak up. ]
Ferdinand? [ her muffled voice through the wood is distinct, carrying no hint of the tremor in her hands. ] It's Manuela. May I come in?
[ in seconds, she schools her features. not grim, like she's feeling, but rather an even expression that leans on the warmer side of pleasant. she is dressed casually, and not like she is about to lay her dignity out to waste, as she has done countless times before. ]
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He expects a knock, but what he hears instead is her voice. Of course, it's not too muffled considering the poor soundproofing of these rooms. It's a far cry from the sturdy, stone walls of Garreg Mach, that much is for sure, and even the trailer he'd been in upon his arrival was more soundproof than this room. But that works in his favor. Guilty as he may feel about it, he loves the sound of Manuela's voice, and he always has.
Of course, there isn't much room between himself and the door, so rather than answer verbally, he rises onto his feet from the foot of his bed and strides the few steps it takes to open it for her. The door creaks on its hinges rather noisily, but despite his living situation, Ferdinand has put on a warm smile for her.
Of course, in the instant before he talks, his eyes take in the sight of her. The dress looks quite lovely on her, accentuating her figure in a most tasteful manner. She's always had such lovely shoulders, come to think of it, but now isn't the time for him to get distracted. ]
Thank you for coming, Manuela. Please, come in, though I fear that we will need to sit upon the bed.
[ He almost winces at that statement as he steps aside, holding the door open for her. Given their most recent encounter, it must seem as though he's coming on to her, asking her to join him on the bed. And it's not as though the idea is even the least bit unpleasant. There wouldn't be the presence of a camera or another person in the room if they were to become intimate, and sharing a bed with her โ preferably a larger one than this, though โ appeals to him in ways that make his cheeks heat up.
But no, they need to talk. He steps aside and gestures for her to enter, only the soft hint of red on his cheeks hinting at where his errant thoughts may lie. ]
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I'll remain standing, if that's alright with you.
[ honestly, who's to say how much longer he would like her in his space? best to be prepared to be asked to leave at any time, than further embarrass herself by making herself comfortable.
so she stands, lingering by the doorway so that her inevitable exit might remain as clean as possible. however this puts her quite close to ferdinand himself, who had closed the door behind her. she hovers quite awkwardly, feeling a little out of her depth for someone who can usually command any room with her presence. instead she finds herself feeling quite small, almost swallowed up entirely by the suffocating confines of the minimal space. ]
Firstly, Ferdinand, I need to apologize to you. [ she draws her gaze up to settle upon his features, even if the brightness of his flush and his smile makes her ache to see. ] My behavior, that day on the set... You must think me a shameful woman.
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But before he has much chance to stew on his feelings and impending attempt at an apology. She quickly takes the initiative and, contrary to what he had expected, gives an apology instead of giving the slightest indication that she's due for one.
He's struck speechless for a second, his eyebrows raised and mouth slightly agape in surprise. He thought he'd been prepared for this conversation, but as it turned out, he was completely and thoroughly unprepared. ]
Apologize? Oh, Manuela... [ He rises from the bed, and given how small the room is, doing so essentially brings him right up to her. His hands move to her shoulders, gentle but firm. ] I had asked you here so that I could apologize. I was worried you would think me to be some lecherous rake, throwing myself upon you at the first opportunity.
[ His heart simultaneously races and aches, a sensation he's grown accustomed to experiencing while listening to her sing mournful arias from her place on the stage. But this time feels different. Her sadness isn't her just getting in-character... it's real, and that hurts so much more to see. ]
You have done nothing that warrants an apology. I felt truly fortunate that my first time was with you, and I still do.
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alas, for her ears prickle hot on other words of his. ]
Your... first?
[ she sounds stunned, words seeming to come from some distant, far-off place as her mind struggles to reassess the situation now that she's been given such new information. ]
That was true?
[ this whole time, she had thought it was all just part of the roles they were assigned. certainly, there was no faking that enthusiasm, and certainly she knew that ferdinand, of all people, could not manage much duplicity even on his best try. but in all that she had allowed herself to get so caught up in the fantasy, not once did she actually think she might have been his first... ever.
perhaps it ought not matter much, but even an embittered romantic like manuela is still her own sense of hopeless, and the idea that she might have taken far more from him than she originally thought has her knees feeling weak in all the worst ways.
thank the goddess for the strength of his hands on her, that she could still stay upright even as she sways. ]
Oh, Ferdinand — no. How could you let me curse you like that?
[ the distress is clear in her voice. without much room to separate them, he can see quite clearly the glimmer in her eyes that signal the beginnings of tears, but fortunately they do not fall just yet. manuela can't seem to help the swell of emotions — she had really ruined him far more than she thought, hadn't she? ]
Your first should have been special. With someone special.
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The lesson he learns now, however, is on a more personal level: that Manuela, the woman whose magnificence first inspired him to pick up a sword, doesn't think that she's particularly special. And that lesson almost breaks his heart right in two.
He hasn't been ignorant, of course. He knows that during her time at the monastery, Manuela hasn't successfully found a real, lasting love. And who could blame her? She's had her hands quite full, as have all of them. But he'd no idea just how much that affected her. His expression softens, and in a display that's less unconscious and more him simply allowing his hands to move as they wish, he brings the backs of his fingers to her cheek and jaw, brushing them softly over her skin. ]
Manuela... it was with someone special. Why do you think I was filled with such... enthusiasm?
[ His cheeks redden softly, as even the briefest of reminders of their encounter sends both his heart and mind racing. But his tone is undeniably tender, as are the fond smile on his face and his gentle gaze. ]
I would have liked to properly kiss you first, and I could have done with more privacy. But that aside, selfish as it must be of me, I have no regrets.
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Someone special... Yes. Your "princess."
[ it's been years since that conversation, and yet manuela can still remember it clear as day. truthfully, she should have corrected him then, but she had been so caught up in his attention, his abject adoration... she couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth. and now her misguidance has done him an even greater disservice.
with a soft sigh, manuela lowers her head. the urge to seek out the comfort his gentle hand offers her is strong โ but she resists. she has already taken far too much from him. ]
I'm sorry, Ferdinand, but you are mistaken. The woman you think so highly of... she is no longer here. Perhaps she was never really around to begin with.
[ she tries to step back, so she might no longer be tempted by the warmth he so readily offers her, but her back only meets the door. she sags against it a little, looking every bit defeated. ]
Surely... you would have heard it. All that was said about me, back in Garreg Mach. While there were certainly... exaggerations, [ to put it lightly, ] it was my reputation for a reason, Ferdinand.
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As she puts it, she as a reputation. Not an overly negative one, as her skill as a healer has always been valued, whether by the Church of Seiros or the Empire's forces. Edelgard herself has even recognized Manuela as someone who is wise and insightful beyond her station. But even Ferdinand has heard the tales of drunken stumbling after a bad date, disheveled rooms, and loneliness.
He allows her to step back, and not wanting to pressure her, he sits on the edge of his bed, patient despite how his heart aches. ]
I have done you a disservice, Manuela. When I spoke to you of my feelings all those years ago, it was not my intention to make you think that I saw you as some idealized version of yourself that only existed on the stage.
[ He casts his gaze downward to the rather drab carpeting on the floor, leaning forward and folding his hands together on his lap. ]
It is not love to overlook someone's shortcomings, but infatuation. And while you could reasonably say that as a boy, I was infatuated with you, I have not been a boy for quite some time. Love is accepting them, and when they want to address those flaws, supporting them through better or worse. There is nothing about you that makes you unworthy of being seen as special, Manuela. And if there is, then there certainly is no hope for someone like me, who was born with every advantage but still cannot overcome my own feelings of inadequacy.
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the goddess blesses her that he should keep speaking, allowing manuela to focus on something else other than what she wants to hear. ]
Oh, Ferdinand...
[ her voice softens. ]
The world will always look upon a man with more forgiveness than a woman.
[ there is a trace of bitterness in her tone, but more than that she is simply somber. ]
Besides that, you are still so young. Any shortcomings you think of yourself right now will whittle away with time. You've so many years ahead of you to reach the heights you've set out for yourself. And how could you not? You, who has never not known how to slow down or give up.
[ they are in the middle of a war, but if there is one thing manuela is going to do or die trying, it's ensure those that she has seen grow into remarkable young men and women get to continue to grow for many, many years to come. it is already far too late for someone like her... but ferdinand, and edelgard, and dorothea and all the rest โ they must still get to live on and have their dreams.
without his hands to steady her, she leans fully against the door now. she closes her eyes and tips her head back, and the sigh that escapes her lips is a wistful one. ]
Undoubtedly you will find the love you speak of, and the honor you crave. You will be respected, and renowned, and if the world should ever hear of your enthusiasms they would only ever call you "passionate" and leave it at that.
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And that ability and willingness to cut down to the ugly truths is part of what makes Manuela Manuela. Whether she's criticizing meager attempts at poetry or commenting on the state of the world, she says what's on her mind. If only he had the words to convince her of the worth of such outspokenness.
As she slumps against the door, his gaze is drawn back to her, to the resignation on her face. The distance between them is still pitifully small, but there are still moments when it feels like a vast gulf. He doesn't know how to convince her of his sincerity, but he does know that he can't be anything but honest with her. ]
I would be remiss if I denied that, coming especially from you, those words bring me some comfort... even as I recognize the sad truths of the world scrawled in the margins.
[ There is a wistfulness in his smile, but one that fades into something more determined. For as long as he's known, he's worried about how he'd be remembered, but there is something more important that he's come to realize. Yes, he wants to make a mark on the world and leave it for the better, but on a personal level, there are other things he wants, too. And looking at Manuela, he can easily see himself finding those. And with that resolve, he rises from the bed, speaking earnestly. ]
But I do not want for what happened between us to simply thought of as an indiscretion. I chose it for myself, of my own volition. And given the chance, I would do so again and again. I would discover every way I could to pleaโ
[ He catches himself mid-sentence, and for an instant, his expression grows a little bashful, and he finds himself fascinated with the patterns in the carpet. Or at least, they're the only thing he can really bring himself to look at. A faint blush spreads across his cheeks, and he continues before too long of a pause. ]
โto provide for you, and to make you feel as special and worthy as you have made me feel.
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and that is how it should be, anyway. her time in the spotlight is long past. and like the ways of the world she will always speak so critically about, unlike the younger members of their party who still have so much passion to burn, she has already long since made her peace with the fact that nothing will change for her. ]
...Thank you, Ferdinand. But you don't owe me that. You don't owe me anything at all.
[ she smiles at him now, managing something warm, if a little bittersweet. now that he is standing again, it isn't difficult at all for her to reach out, rest a hand upon his blushing cheek and coax him to look back up at her once more. it is not unlike the touch he had given her, not too long ago, though somehow hers feels much more like a parting gift than the welcoming gesture he had made for her. ]
You have already given me... a most wonderful gift. You reminded a faded old star like me what it felt like to be truly wanted. However much of that was you or the role or the moment, for at least that time, I felt like I could shine again. And now you give me your kindness, so that I can look back on that moment with fondness instead of shame. So — thank you. That is already far more than I could ask for from you.
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His mind races with a million thoughts. Would she still be so full of self-doubt if he'd properly courted her first, or if they'd at least had time to talk things over before getting into it? Would it have helped if he'd taken his time more, no matter how pent up and impatient the both of them had become? For a moment, it feels as though he might be swallowed up by these what-ifs, these doubts plaguing the recesses of his mind.
But there's that sweet smile, not as happy as he'd like, but a smile nonetheless. And there's that lovely voice, thanking him for something that warrants no thanks whatsoever; calling herself faded, when nothing could be further from the truth in his eyes.
He can't bear it any longer. He can't make the years of loneliness and doubt go away, but he can do his damned best to try and make sure there aren't any more of them. He steps from the bed and closes the distance between them until their chests meet, and one hand moves to take hers. ]
Faded? Manuela, I have been unable to take my eyes off of you since I was scarcely even a man. You are more beautiful now than ever, and I will not rest until you have no choice but to concede the point.
[ And with that, he brings her hand up to his mouth. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses her fingers just beneath her knuckles, then presses a second kiss to the back of her hand. He might not be able to convince her, but at the very least, he can convince her that he won't be dissuaded. ]
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but just like that, the color drains from her face. the light flickers out in her eyes.
it's a funny thing, isn't it? how manuela has longed to hear such sentiments for over a decade now, bent herself repeatedly to new lows in vain attempts to appeal for them, yet in the here and now of finally getting what she wants, she cannot even fathom allowing herself to believe them. ]
More beautiful...?
[ oh, but she doesn't mean to be cruel or dismissive, especially not when he looks upon her so earnestly. but she cannot help but scoff. such pretty words, wrapped in such a handsome package. but for her? preposterous. what has she done to earn them? what has changed that she should receive them now? ]
What madness are you spouting? Do you even hear yourself?
[ and then, all at once, it clicks. pieces of a skewed puzzle slotting themselves into a crude picture, one she honestly should have expected from the start, given where they are. what they're made to endure. ]
It's this place, isn't it? You ingested something, or come across a pheromone. Tell me — did you notice any peculiar scents right before I arrived?
[ yes, surely that's the cause. how much easier it is a pill to swallow, to think that none of this is at all sincere. hastily, she tugs at the hand he holds so tenderly, glancing aside. ]
Have a seat, Ferdinand, you are surely under some sort of spell.
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His expression, then, must be truly puzzled as she tries to rationalize what he's saying. He tires to get a word in edgewise, but he's not able to until she pulls him aside. ]
A spell? I assure you, Manuela, I am perfectly of my own mind right now.
[ Still, the easiest thing for him to do is to allow her to tug his hand away and follow the momentum to the edge of his bed, where he takes a seat as directed. He furrows his brow, frustrated with his inability to convince her that everything he felt and everything he said was genuine. ]
I know there are substances here that can make someone more... amorous. But even if I were under their effect now, which I do not think I am, it would not matter.
[ He looks up at her from the bed, not trying to look like a scolded puppy, but probably resembling one all the same. ]
Everything that happened between us... for me, that was entirely natural. The only aphrodisiac I needed was you.
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though he can be so utterly distracting, can't he, when he goes and says such wonderful things like that. manuela hastens to fight back her own color rising to her cheeks; the memory of their time together remains a vivid one, one she can still sometimes feel like a phantom touch on her body. how fortunate that, beneath the knit of her dress, he cannot possibly see how her thighs clench together in a vain attempt for reprieve. ]
...Y-Yes, well. It's quite easy to get caught up in the moment. And โ given it was your first, and how brazenly I threw myself at you... [ yes, see, all these awful, wonderful things he's saying could very easily be explained away. ] Is it any wonder you reacted the way you did?
[ with him seated, she positions herself before him. there is enough of a difference in their heights that he would need to tip his head back just so he can meet her eyes (and avoid a direct-look at her chest). she lifts a hand to his brow, feeling for a fever. elevated heart rate and temperature are sure signs of an aphrodisiac working its way through his system. ]
You're flushed.
[ warm, too. of course, that could be due to his embarrassment, from feeling rebuked or even chastised. manuela hardly means either of those things, but it's important he knows how easily one's body could be manipulated in this place. ferdinand is too kind, too generous โ he is easy prey for the whims of this hotel, who preys on soft souls like his who are always overflowing with affection and sincerity.
she moves her hand down, placing it over his heart, where his loose shirt parts on an undone button. the skin beneath her fingers is warm to the touch. ]
You've done little more than sit and stand but your heart is racing, and your breathing is short. Clear signs of an aphrodisiac. Likely, you're erect, too.
[ she lowers her gaze to his lap โ his pants are of a light enough material (and ferdinand himself is far too large to be discreet) that there would certainly be some telltale tentingโ
oh. ]
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Of course, there's a bit more to the flush on his cheeks when he realizes exactly where her gaze has fallen. Instinctively, he presses his legs together, averting his eyes. He doesn't even know what he's embarrassed about, given that in the current situation, there isn't anything to hide. But maybe he wishes that there were, that he could entice her to sit upon his lap and ride him until they're both too sore to move.
Of course, if such thoughts remain in his mind, then he's likely to grow hard anyway, but that's something he's not trying to think about right now. ]
Manuela... it is not just about sex. It has never been just about sex for me.
[ He swallows the nervous lump forming in his throat and reaches for her hand by the wrist, and though his touch is gentle, he firmly keeps her hand over his chest so that she might feel his heartbeat. He locks his eyes with hers, despite how frightening it feels to be so vulnerable and forthright. In the past, he'd hid his interest behind poetry and flattery. This is the most direct he's been with her, and it takes a good bit of willpower for him to even get the words out. ]
My heart raced just like this when we were alone at Garreg Mach and I read poetry to you. And it raced just like this when you gave me the honor of a dance with you.
[ His fingers spread so that they can lace between hers, then close fully. He can feel the subtle signs of age on her well-kept hands, but those aren't unattractive qualities to him. There's a quiet strength to them, and ultimately, it just accentuates her femininity even more to him. ]
And... if you will forgive me for being so crass... our scene together was far from the first time you have made me... [ He clears his throat a little, clearly embarrassed with himself. ] ...erect.