Chapter Text
-
sun-baked trees
-
The insufferable afternoon heat bore down on Sylvain as he stuck his head out of the treehouse windows, Ingrid yelling for him from below.
"I found the prettiest fruit trees near the hills," she happily exclaimed as he got down from the ladder.
"Apples?"
She chose to say nothing and instead had him hold onto her wrist as they ran and ran, laughing without a care in the world.
"We're here," she said, beckoning to the giant apple trees that stood before them.
"Get the slingshot out!"
Sylvain grinned as fruit fell to the ground, bowing when he saw that Ingrid was quietly cheering him on.
"One, two, three..." He sat down after an hour and watched as Ingrid counted the amount of apples in their basket.
"Twenty-three, twenty-four...twenty-five!" She offered one to him, slightly blushing but he did not notice.
After they had their fill of the juicy fruit, they saw the sun starting to set and hastily shoved the rest into the basket, running as fast as their feet could take them.
"Run before the ghosts get you!"
They stopped at the foot of a small cottage, one knock prompted a rather tall woman to come out, beaming as Ingrid tightly hugged her.
"Grandma, this is Sylvain."
She turned around to greet him and by the goddess, she was the prettiest woman he had ever seen up to that point in his life.
The very first thing he noticed was the way her sky blue eyes sparkled like diamonds.
Then, the dimples that showed themselves when she laughed at a joke her granddaughter made.
And most importantly, that smile.
It was nothing like the fake ones women from the city gave him when they found out he had a Crest.
It was real and deliriously happy.
He wanted to be like that, to be free from the status of being only a Crest-bearer and potential husband to greedy noblewomen.
"It's nice to meet you, Sylvain."
"Likewise, Mrs. Galatea."
"Please call me Freya, Mrs. Galatea is a bit stuffy for my taste."