Work Text:
Fischl sat alone in the library, again. Briefly, she considered singing a happy birthday to herself, now being 14 and all, but as the prinzessin she ultimately deemed it as immature and unnecessary, deciding to instead go outside. Maybe today her peers would be kinder, she was now 14 and all, and holding onto menace and dismissal was childish. Or maybe she just hoped it would be different for once.
“Hey ***, have you finally grown up?”
“She is so stupid, who does *** think she is?”
“Why do you call yourself something so stupid instead of your name, ***?”
The words all blurred into one, a cacophony of cruelty surrounding her. So Fischl did what they said she did best, ‘running away from reality into the arms of her stupid parents’. They were the only ones who listened though. They understood that she was Fischl. They accepted her, and they would comfort her, and reassure her as they did when she was young, telling her to ‘never give up on her nobility and dreams’, as they wiped away her tears.
She threw herself into their arms for comfort as she had done many times before, but instead of comfort, she was met instead with gentle words of exasperation. She pretended not to hear them.
Even her parents no longer believed in her. They no longer understood anymore. The words ‘put your childish dreams behind you,’ had never stung as they did right then, from her place in her fathers arms. She tore herself from his once comforting embrace. Fischl blinked away tears as she lowered her head. She couldn’t even reply, only walk away, back to the library, the place that raised her better than her parents. This was a simple fact, the library was the constant when her parents weren’t. Fischl understood that they were busy as adventurers, and the library was always there to listen to whatever she wanted to say, but occasionally it still hurt a little bit.
Back when she was little, before she understood the concept of jobs, she simply assumed that she had done something wrong, deserving of abandonment, and the library was the place of which she whispered her woes, wishing that her parents would be there to listen instead. The stubborn walls lined with bookshelves carefully folded her secrets in their pages, her insecurities tucked away behind old bookmarks instead of in her parents’ arms.
But now as she entered the library, night approaching like a predator’s shadow, she wasn’t sure she felt safe even here anymore. Fischl sat in the corner of the room, eyes snagging on the book that was once her solace. ‘Flowers for Princess Fischl’. She took the book of the shelf, but it slipped through her fingers, the hardback book crashing to the floor, the sound echoing in the empty room. She picked up the book, trying to read through it, but her tears blurred her vision. She snagged her finger as she tried to turn to her favourite page.
“A papercut?” she said weakly, voice cracking.
Her blood blossomed over the corner of the page, but she found that she couldn’t move her finger away. She was near-frozen in place, only able to move her head and talk, even that she couldn’t do well. As she looked around frantically, her eyes snagged on Lisa’s discarded letter opener, the silver metal glinting in the moonlight.
Before she knew it, Fischl was walking towards it, her footsteps slow, but inevitable. Silently, she picked the object up, her father’s words echoing in her mind. Fischl shook herself, eyes recentring on the knife.
“I am Fischl, aren’t I? she asked herself, raising the letter opener to her neck.
She took a sharp breath in, and then stabbed. And stabbed. She couldn’t make herself stop as blood pooled down her shirt, tears mixing in with the red. A wave of dizziness overcame her.
“Who am I?” she whispered, as she closed her eyes.
A purplish light appeared behind her eyes. She squinted at it, the dizziness must be making her see things. It wasn’t enough to be thought to be a disillusioned teenager, now she had visual hallucinations too?
“Mein Fräulein.”
She heard the flapping of wings, and then, she finally forced her swollen eyes open.
There was a raven, with the glowing purple light in its mouth.
“Mein Fräulein?”
Fischl gasped. The raven dropped the purple object in her lap. A vision? Why now, when she was about to die?
“Cease your foolishness o’ raven- raven of the night.” her voice trailed off. She cleared her throat, and finished what she had to say. “Return this to whence it came, for in a few moments, it will not matter if I have it or not. This is the order of your-” she stopped again. Who was she to give orders if she was not even considered a Prinzessin?
The raven dipped its head.
“You are correct, if left unattended, you will cease to exist. Wait for a moment. I promise I will not abandon you, Mein Fräulein.”
And with that, the raven flew off, leaving the vision in her lap.
“Mein Fräulein?” she whispered to herself. “Is that… me?”
Barely a minute later, the raven was leading a running figure. She was tall and blonde, and moved as if aided by the wind itself.
“Aid her, dandelion knight.” The raven ordered.
“I swear by my sword!”
A glowing turquoise light appeared around her.
“Jean?” Fischl asked.
“Yes, it’s me, Jean.” She said with a voice as soft as dandelions in the wind.
“I’m sorry.”
“Mein Fräulein-”
“Hey, its okay. And you will be okay, since your familiar found me when he did. I am so sorry that you are suffering.”
As Jean spoke, Fischl ran her fingers over her neck, tears falling anew.
“I’m scared.” Fischl whispered.
Jean cleared her throat, before soothing Fischl with kind words.
“When my little sister is scared, I usually give her a hug, and tickle her until she forgets what bothered her. I know that tickling may not work but a hug may help?” Jean asked, awkwardly opening her arms up.
Fischl nodded, and mere moments later, she was surrounded by warmth. She shook in Jean’s arms, as she soothed her, the raven sitting on her lap. Its feathers were soft.
“I apologise, your injury will scar.” Jean said, after Fischl had stopped crying.
“But you healed me. Why? I wanted to die as Fischl, so I wouldn’t have to live as-”
“Why do you have to die as Fischl?”
“Because my parents- my peers- everyone calls it stupid and childish.”
“But isn’t it better to live as a child than not at all?” Jean challenged, smiling sadly.
Fischl buried her head in her neck again, as Jean rubbed the back of her head.
“So, Fischl, what do you want to do now?”
“I don’t think there’s anything left for me here.” She replied, her voice empty.
“Then why not join the adventurer’s guild?”
Fischl winced.
“But my parents-”
“Then work in a different division. How does being a private investigator sound? You wouldn’t be around them then, and if it gets lonely, you can visit me at any time and you always have Oz-”
“You’re called Oz?” Fischl asked her raven, eyes widening.
“Yes, Mein Fräulein. My name is Night-severing Raven Ozvaldo Hrafnavins-”
“You’re like me?” Fischl asked, picking up her favourite book in delight.
“Yes, my liege.”
“You’re like me!” Fischl exclaimed, wiping her tears away.
Jean smiled as Fischl and her raven talked, before leaving once sure that she was okay, needing to get back to her work. Before she left the library, she made a mental note to send Lisa in to check on Fsichl, but with her familiar, she had a feeling that everything would be okay.
Jean received a report from Lisa the next day over lunch. She told her that the girl and the raven talked until the sun rose.