The Missing Stone

Received and Realized

Their voices are gone for the rest of the day. She keeps the watch, ring and amulet close anyways. She eventually gets her rematch against Felix, and while he'd been more snippy than normal, Mildred couldn't blame him; he just lost his father. Their spar had been in the dead of night, where no one could interfere, and fought with only swords.

Much to both of their frustration, the spar ended in a tie, again, both of them yielding with each other's blades at the other's neck. Still, when Mildred prepares to leave, Felix calls out to her.

"Wait a moment."

Mildred turns, standing by the entrance. Felix tosses a sword at her, sheath and all, and she catches it by the hilt. She tilts her head at it, slinging the belt around her waist. "What is this?"

"It's a sword," Felix deadpans. Mildred rolls her eyes in response.

"I know it's a sword," she scoffs, tapping the hilt. "But why?" Mildred unsheathes the sword, the blade shining in the moonlight. The leather hilt is slightly cracked and broken in, obviously well used. She gives it an experimental swing. Well balanced.

"It's my old sword," he explains, tilting his head up at the moon. "I've decided that...I'm going to use the one my old man gave me." The one he gifted him in Ailell. A moment passes, the only sounds are the patrol flyers and the night wind.

"Thanks," Mildred says awkwardly, sheathing the sword.

"Tch." With that, Felix departs from the training grounds for once in what feels like a few days. He must be exhausted.

Silence.

Mildred doesn't know what she is expecting as she leaves the grounds with the sword.

The next few weeks are no different from her regular routine. Mildred asks Mercedes to sew back together her coat, but she had responded with an apologetic frown, "I'm afraid it's too far gone for me to do anything."

Mildred sits cross-legged on her bed, the coat folded neatly in front of her. A small part of her misses Mao and Aelura's antics, accompanied with Chester's soothing voice. She smiles at the memory of his song...

A thought pops up in her head, and Mildred ridicules herself for the next few moments. She could simply mend the coat herself. With a task in mind to keep herself busy, Mildred sets to work, checking the pockets and flipping it inside out and shaking it of dust.

Magic glows dimly in the room, and Mildred watches in wonder as the fabric threads itself back together. The sight is almost satisfying, and before she knows it, the coat is good as new. A proud smile blooms on her face, which quickly disappears when someone knocks on the door.

What is it now?

She opens the door to find, quite unexpectedly, Dedue. "Good afternoon," she greets, tilting her head up at him. Mildred doesn't interact with Dedue often, but from what she knows from the others, he may seem intimidating, but inside he is actually very kind and considerate. He tilts his head down in acknowledgement.

"I require your assistance," he replies, and Mildred nods her assent, following him to the dining hall. The place is nearly devoid of people, only Ashe preparing food at the counter. He grins at the sight of the pair.

"Would you mind helping, Mildred?" He asks, flitting to the pantry and attempting to reach for a sauce jar on a high shelf. Mildred starts to move to help when Dedue sweeps past her and easily reaches the jar, handing it to Ashe, their fingers touching briefly. "Ah, thank you Dedue." Mildred blinks at the interaction.

They move to their places. She pulls her gloves off, rinsing her hands before turning to the pair, ready to help. Dedue moves her to a spot by the oven, instructing her to place the large flat pieces of dough in the oven. The task is easy enough, and when Mildred slides the final piece of dough in, she asks, "Where is everyone?"

Ashe knits his brows in concentration as he forces a piece of dough to cooperate with his movements. "We're planning a surprise party for Mercedes, and we need to keep her away from the dining hall as much as possible, so the professor and the others have gone into town." Mildred can only respond with a very eloquent "oh".

She completely forgot about Mercedes' birthday, what with all the preparations for the march to Fhirdiad, things have been kind of hectic. Still, her ears droop unconsciously in guilt.

Dedue frowns, staring at the now baked dough. Ashe notices, leaning over to look. "What's the matter?" The taller man motions at the sauce jar and the block of cheese beside it.

"The dough is too thin, and there is too much sauce to proportion properly," Dedue responds, and Mildred cups her chin, propping her elbows on the counter. Ashe frowns at the situation, and Mildred thinks quickly.

"You could just stack it?" She suggests meekly, both of their gazes wide and incredulous on her. She smiles sheepishly. "Or is that not-"

"That," Dedue interrupts, "is ingenious." Mildred internally preens at the praise, and helps cut the dough into small squares, layer them with cheese and sauce, and place them carefully onto plates. Ashe excuses himself shortly afterwards to fetch the flowers from the greenhouse. Dedue piles Mildred's arms with colorful streamers.

"Where do I put these?" Mildred blows a streamer away from her mouth. Dedue turns and sweeps his arm out at the hall, as if presenting it for welcome.

"Everywhere."

Mildred discovers she likes decorating. And parties. While she hadn't stayed long enough to thoroughly enjoy Annette's, Mercedes' party is celebrated with cheer. And Mildred loves it. Loves the smiles on everyone's faces, loves how Felix tolerates Sylvain's arm around his shoulders, loves how Mercedes giggles at everyone's antics, loves how the prince also enjoys everyone's company.

Mildred's sitting towards the end of the table when Gilbert approaches her. He bows his head before speaking, "I did not get the chance to express my gratitude. Thank you for giving me the courage to face Annette once more." At his last statement he turns towards said ginger mage, who proudly wears the hair clip on the right side of her head. Mildred smiles, shaking her head even though Gilbert is facing away from her.

"There is nothing to thank me for," she replies, and remembers how she had abruptly departed Annette's own birthday celebration. "It is I who should apologize." Gilbert looks back at her with surprise. "I had missed a moment of happiness for Annette amongst all of this grief."

Gilbert shakes his head vehemently. "These are trying times," he says. "Anything can happen."

He's right. A smile appears on her face when Gilbert sighs exasperatedly, marching over to scold Dimitri for poor table manners. Sylvain laughs, an arm thrown over Felix's shoulder, the swordsman hiding his smile behind his drink. She knows this feeling, has felt it before with Aelura, Mao and Chester. Mildred found something of her own, here, in the present.

A family.

A/N: This is a good place to stop for now. Get some rest, eat some food. The story will wait for you :)