Chapter Text
The sun was rising on another cold autumn morning, and Judeau was up before everyone else again. Sometimes he had trouble getting enough sleep, and these days he found himself waking up unreasonably early, strangely restless before daybreak while the rest of the world was quiet and calm. He sat on a low branch of a nearby tree and watched the horizon. The sky was littered with rows of pink and orange clouds, reflecting a warm light on the field of dewy grass beneath it - a beautiful sight. If anyone had asked him, he would have said that he was awake this early for no particular reason, that he just felt like stretching his legs, etc., but deep down he knew the truth - he was waiting for someone to join him.
It all started a few weeks ago, the first time Judeau's brain forced him awake before the sun had fully risen, and upon strolling through the camp, he realized he wasn't as alone as he initially thought. It turns out his new friend was a perpetual early riser, and these mornings they spent together quickly became his favorite time of day. Judeau knew that this companionship was special, something he had been wanting for a long time, but he was afraid to even admit that to himself.
The camaraderie he had found during his time with the Band of the Falcon was a dream come true, and he was grateful for every friend he had, but sometimes, every now and then, he felt like he was missing something. There was a different type of connection that he longed for, something special that he could not get from his comrades... except perhaps Casca, but at this point, Judeau knew she wasn't the answer, at least not for him. He had accepted many years ago that Casca would never reciprocate his feelings. She loved him the way she loved and cared for all her close friends, but she saw Judeau as a brother, not a partner. It was painful, but he knew that accepting this reality was far better than continuing to pine after his friend, holding on to some desperate hope that Casca's feelings might change some day.
And of course, she was hopelessly in love with Griffith, the man they all admired and followed into battle countless times. Casca had never expressed those feelings out loud, but an intuitive person like Judeau could see her romantic attachment to their leader from a mile away. Aside from the obvious pain of his unrequited feelings for her, it also broke his heart to see this beautiful, brave, amazing woman be so devoted to someone who would likely never be hers. Griffith was no ordinary man - despite his charm, something about him was always a bit distant, untouchable, otherworldly. He didn't form relationships the way average people did - every social interaction was an opportunity, and every ally was an asset who he could put to good use. There's not much room for love and romance with a mindset like that, and despite her tough exterior, Casca was a kind-hearted person who wanted and deserved genuine affection. Judeau had no doubt that Griffith would make his dreams a reality, but he doubted that Casca would be the woman he chooses to keep by his side throughout his entire journey to the top.
Guts was a different story. He might be a giant, brutal, monstrous man to the people who barely knew him, but he wasn't untouchable in the same way Griffith was. In a way, Guts was almost painfully human, with a life shaped by hardship and all the passionate emotions that came with it. He needed real love too, someone who could keep up with him and understand him. When Judeau noticed that Guts and Casca were forming a deeper connection, he knew Guts would be a better match for her than Griffith, and he tried to encourage their potential relationship. Sure, Judeau still felt some pangs of jealousy seeing Casca develop feelings for someone else, but that was easily outweighed by his desire to see his two friends finally be happy.
Judeau certainly wasn't the only Band of the Falcon member who had developed a crush on Casca at some point. She was attractive, strong, and the only woman who most of his comrades were able to interact with on a regular basis, so of course she would light fires within them without even trying. However, the hearts and minds of his fellow soldiers had been preoccupied lately with the new additions to their retinue: a pair of female healers.
Griffith and company had saved a small farming town from a band of marauders a few weeks prior, and amongst the grateful villagers were two sisters, Mathilde and Linnea, who provided first aid to the injured soldiers once the skirmish was over. The women of their family had been passing down their impressive medical knowledge for generations, and the sisters volunteered to join the Band of the Falcon as nurses. They packed up their various supplies and herbal remedies, traveled alongside the rest of the band, and set up their own infirmary tent once the mercenaries stopped somewhere new to make camp.
Healing the wounded and being generally kind, helpful women was already more than enough for the sisters to be seen as a valuable addition to the party - hell, just being female was enough - but alas, Mathilde and Linnea were also young and beautiful, which essentially made them angels in the eyes of every soldier they touched. With their slender figures, long chestnut brown hair and soft gray eyes, the girls looked like poetry personified as they bandaged up wounds and calmed fevers. Judeau had heard multiple men joke that they might purposely sprain their ankles or even allow themselves to be slashed by the enemy during their next battle, just so they will have a reason to visit the infirmary tent and be tended to by these new nurses. However, these jokes and other comments about the sisters' good looks were said discreetly. There seemed to be a general understanding that Mathilde and Linnea could be admired from a distance, but never disrespected with coarse, bawdy language, or inappropriate displays of... affection. That type of behavior would get your teeth knocked in, especially if Griffith or Casca were around. Griffith made it clear from day one that these healers should be treated as guests rather than mere comrades, and Casca was immediately protective of the girls simply because she knew what it was like to be surrounded by horny mercenaries who lose all sense of decency whenever they see a pair of tits. It was incredibly fortunate that these sisters had volunteered their services to the Band of the Falcon, and it would be a shame if they were scared away by a bunch of lecherous soldiers who can't behave themselves.
So, despite the flurry of excitement they caused with their mere existence, Mathilde and Linnea were left alone, free from the burden of crude male attention and risque propositions, only making polite conversation with the soldiers who passed by their tent, and murmuring soothing words to their weary patients.
Mathilde, the eldest, was polite but reserved. Her countenance might have seemed a bit cold and distant at first glance, but it was primarily the result of grief. Her husband, who she had loved very much, was killed the previous year in a violent raid on their village, similar to the more recent attack that had led them to meeting the Band of the Falcon. Mathilde carried herself with the gravitas of an elderly widow, despite only being in her 20s, and her desire to leave her town and travel with Griffith's company was motivated not just by benevolence, but also the belief that there was nothing left for her in her old home. She didn't want to stay in that familiar place and keep being reminded of the man she loved.
Linnea was a bit more social, with a warm demeanor and a cheerful laugh that came easily. She had been very friendly and sweet towards Judeau from the beginning, and he was happy to make a new friend, but he had to keep reminding himself that there was nothing exceptional about their interactions. Linnea was just a nice person, she was nice to everyone, and there was no reason to interpret her kindness towards him as anything more than standard pleasantries, right? Sure, they would gradually have longer and longer conversations about anything and everything, and as a result he knew more about her than any of his fellow band members did - but he's always been good at talking to people and getting to know them. Yes, it sometimes felt as though she sought out his company more than anyone else's and her eyes lit up when she spotted him from across the camp, but Judeau figured that could just be his imagination. He can't let himself start thinking that way, getting his hopes up. She's a pretty girl surrounded by strapping young men who are all smitten with her - she could probably have her choice of any soldier in the camp if she felt so inclined. He would be crazy to think she had any interest in him.
And yet, there they were again, watching the sunrise together, talking about life and dreams and nonsense. Linnea had spotted Judeau on his perch and eagerly climbed up to sit next to him, just like she had been doing nearly every morning for the past two weeks or so. Their conversations were so easy, it felt as though they had known each other for years. Was she like this with everyone? Did she always bond with new acquaintances this quickly? These questions lingered in the back of Judeau's mind, making his face warm and rattling around in his head when he was trying to fall asleep after a long day.
Linnea, like her sister, had additional reasons for abandoning her home to travel with the Band of the Falcon. She was running away from an engagement to an older man whom she barely knew, arranged by overbearing family members who thought it was a good match and wanted her to settle down quickly. After the untimely death of her brother-in-law, the pressure to have children was shifted from Mathilde to Linnea, who was old enough to produce offspring but apparently not old enough to make her own decisions, like choosing a spouse. When Mathilde proposed the idea of lending their medicinal services to the soldiers going forward, Linnea jumped at the chance to be free from the oppressive expectations and stagnant responsibilities of her small town life. It wasn't as though she didn't care about the friends and family she left behind, but she had realized that things would remain the same forever if she didn't make change happen herself.
Judeau understood completely. Linnea thought his years of being a performer in a traveling circus was infinitely more fascinating than the life she had left behind, (and she couldn't seem to get enough of his colorful stories about it), but Judeau still knew the feeling of wanting more, even if you weren't sure what that "more" was yet. He told her all about how his life changed when he joined Griffith and the Band of the Falcon, how the danger of being a mercenary was far outweighed by the thrill and gratification of fighting for a cause alongside his comrades. Linnea listened intently to every rambling, introspective anecdote he had, as if she found him genuinely interesting and wanted to know all about him. A kind person like her treated everyone this way, though. She's a caregiver, she has good social skills, so she probably makes everyone feel special and important while conversing with them, right? Besides, there were lots of interesting people to talk to amongst their retinue, so it would be stupid to think that she was especially invested in what Judeau had to say. She was just being nice.
This morning they were talking about the future. Judeau already knew where his chosen path would lead him; he would keep fighting with the Band of the Falcon, Griffith would one day achieve his dreams, and Judeau would be right there with him, along with Guts and Casca and Pippin and all their beloved comrades, to share in the glory of what they had accomplished together. They might not know every twist and turn they would encounter on their road to victory, but they knew they would get there as long as Griffith was leading the way.
Linnea felt less sure about what the next few years had in store for her. She and Mathilde were happy to be helping the Band of the Falcon, but how long could they stay traveling with this band of soldiers? Would they eventually return home, or find a new place to settle down? Linnea didn't know the answers to these questions, but she didn't seem too bothered by it.
"All that really matters is finding your own happiness, no matter where you are or what you're doing," she said wistfully, looking up at the pastel sky.
"How do you know where to find it?" Judeau asked.
"Well, I'm happy right now," she said, looking over at him with a glowing smile. Judeau felt his face get warm as he smiled back at her, then looked away nervously. There he goes again, getting flustered by a normal conversation. This was normal, right? Completely platonic. He felt like he was floating on one of those fluffy clouds they had been staring at all morning. A gentle breeze lifted strands of Linnea's flowing hair as she gazed at him patiently, waiting for him to speak. She was so pretty. Time to change the subject.
"How's Mathilde been feeling lately?" Wow, great. Yeah, ask about her sister, the one who is perpetually heartbroken because she lost the love of her life during an act of senseless violence. Perfect segue, idiot.
"She's alright," Linnea answered softly, staring down at her hands as she fidgeted. "I try to keep her spirits up, but she's the kind of person who only feels better when she's helping someone else. She buries herself in her work, even when I try to make things easier on her. I used to wake up early just to wash rags before she got up, because I wanted to surprise her with one less chore she would have to do that day, but then she just started getting up even earlier! Now she insists on doing the washing herself, tells me not to worry about it, and I feel as though I've accidentally given her more work to do." Linnea sighed, looking dejected.
So that's why Linnea was always up so early. But wait, why would she-
"Why do you keep waking up before sunrise then, if Mathilde started doing the washing herself?" Judeau blurted out.
Linnea shot him a strange look, incredulous yet amused. "Because I want to spend time with you, obviously," she replied. Judeau's breath caught in his throat, his mind went blank for a moment, and he let out a strange noise that was part coughing, part nervous laughter. His face was definitely bright red now. He noticed the massive outline of Pippin in the distance, just as the rest of the camp seemed to be waking up, so he sputtered out some half-assed excuse for why he suddenly had to leave, then jumped down from the branch and practically sprinted over to his friend. He barely heard Linnea's forlorn, "Oh, um... bye," as he made his hasty exit.
Judeau tried his best to seem casual when greeting Pippin, as if he hadn't just made a total ass of himself, but his friend saw right through him.
"'Morning," Pippin said cautiously, eyebrows raised. He glanced over in the direction from whence his small comrade had appeared. "Something wrong?"
"What? No, of course not. What would be wrong?" Judeau answered in a comically squeaky voice that instantly betrayed his anxiety. Pippin simply replied with a "hmmm" noise, eyeing his friend suspiciously but not prodding any further.
Guts walked over to say good morning and find out what topic of conversation was making Judeau so visibly unnerved.
"We're talking about Linnea," Pippin informed him. Judeau's eyes bugged out at the sound of her name. Why did Pippin have to be so damn perceptive?
"Oh, right," Guts said, then paused for a moment and asked, "Wait, which one is Linnea? Judeau's girlfriend or the quiet one?"
"W-what? No, she's not my anything!" Judeau sputtered out. Guts' tone had been so matter-of-fact. He wasn't teasing or being facetious. Did he genuinely think that Judeau was in a relationship?
Guts was unphased by his friend's weird reaction. "Oh, sorry," he said, "that's just what I've heard people say. You guys are together a lot, and she really likes you, so it just made sense."
"Why would she want me, of all people?"
"Because you're great," Guts responded. No hesitation, no preamble. He might as well be commenting on the weather. "You're one of the best people I've ever met."
Judeau balked at this statement. Guts was not the type of guy to just give out compliments for the hell of it. Sure, they were friends, but he had never said something so unabashedly kind to Judeau before.
"Wow. Thanks, Guts."
Guts shrugged. "It's just true. Everyone likes you. Why wouldn't she?" Pippin nodded in agreement, and then they casually changed the subject to sparring practice or something - Judeau wasn't even listening at that point. People thought she liked him? He looked back over his shoulder at the tree where he had been sitting earlier. The branches were empty now. He wondered how long Linnea had sat there without him after he ran off, and he started feeling guilty and foolish over how he had acted. Why was he so flustered by this situation?
It wasn't as though he had never received positive attention from women. Judeau actually had more conquests under his belt than some of his friends realized, mostly from his time in the traveling circus, meeting pretty girls as his troupe went from town to town - but those were merely flings. He knew that the novelty of being a charming acrobat had done him a lot of favors in that regard, and he certainly wasn't complaining, but he always assumed that those brief encounters never had the potential to become more, even if he had been able to stay longer. Judeau was interesting enough to capture someone's attention, but not valuable enough to hold that attention for longer than a night or two. Here, in a military camp surrounded by men who were nearly twice his size, he would never be a woman's first choice. He wasn't trying to be bitter, just realistic. Optimism felt great, but realism could save you a lot of heartache in the long term, and he had a much easier time encouraging optimism in others than he did with himself. Why was he so good at uplifting and supporting his friends, but rarely spoke to himself the same way?