Work Text:
i - the text
In retrospect, the text had probably been a mistake. The fact that she calls him afterwards to yell at him for twenty minutes tells him that it was definitely a mistake. Sylvain is in Brigid and it’s morning here and he’s way too tired to deal with an annoyed girlfriend so he just apologizes until she tells him that he’s never allowed to do that again. Sylvain promises never to propose to Ingrid over text again and she says that she loves him and hangs up on him.
He makes a mental note to move the ring somewhere more secret before they have to start packing to move to Derdriu.
INTERLUDE I - Mercedes
“Mercedes,” Sylvain begs, “you have to help me!”
“Sylvain, she’s your girlfriend!”
“Yeah, but I’m freaking out here! She said no last time I asked!”
Mercedes flicks him in the forehead. “Sylvain, you asked her to marry you very jokingly over text. She absolutely thought you were joking.”
Sylvain groans and smothers his face in the throw pillow from her couch as he throws an arm up, exasperated. “I wasn’t!”
Mercedes sighs. “And how was she supposed to know that?”
“Because I’m me?” He sits up, dropping the pillow into his lap. “We got together over a phonecall so I thought it was kind of poetic.”
Mercedes giggles. “Sylvain, you got together over a phone call because that’s how she found out you were a model, not to mention it was because she saw pictures of you posing in your underwear.”
He pouts. “Are you going to help me or not?”
“Fine, fine. I’ll help.”
ii. dinner out
Sylvain banks it all on Mercedes’s next suggestion. He books them a private flight back to Fhirdiad for the weekend and goes all out on the nice hotel, fancy suit, and gets Dedue to save them a table with the best seats in the house for their dinner out. He slips the ring box into the pocket inside of his jacket and tries to think about which of the courses would be the best time to actually ask her.
He could do it before the food got there, but Ingrid might never forgive him for taking her to Dedue’s restaurant and then making a scene before they even got to see anything. He could do it during the main course, but she might be too engrossed in the food to notice his attempts, especially if he tries to play it off subtly. He could try dessert, but that runs the same risks as the main course.
To be safe, he decides to wait until after they’ve eaten, maybe right before they leave the restaurant.
As planned, the night starts well. Ingrid looks absolutely radiant in a beautiful emerald green dress that brings out her eyes. Sylvain showers her in compliments until she’s almost as red as his hair, but he doesn’t let up, reminding her how much he loves her until she threatens to throw him out of the car.
When they arrive at the restaurant, Dedue greets them at the hostess stand. Ingrid brightens immediately and she and Dedue chat as he escorts them to the table near the largest window in the main dining room. He gives Sylvain a small smile that Sylvain wouldn’t have thought anything of if he hadn’t known that Mercedes had brought her boyfriend in on the plan.
Ingrid eagerly pours over the menu after Dedue leaves them to think for a minute and Sylvain just watches her, a smile on his face. She looks adorable.
“Order whatever you want, babe,” he says. “I’ve got the tab.”
Ingrid blinks at him. “You don’t have to.”
He grins. “This whole weekend was my idea, wasn’t it? Let me treat you.”
She beams and hurriedly starts scanning over the menu again. “You’re the best!”
The words ‘I love you’ catch in his throat and he flattens his palms against his legs so he doesn’t immediately reach for the ring in his pocket. This night is going to be harder than he had thought.
In the end, the food and wine are so amazing that Ingrid is almost comatose by the time they leave the restaurant. They wander through the familiar streets of Fhirdiad, arm-in-arm, and Ingrid leans her head against Sylvain’s shoulder, smiling. His coat is draped around her shoulders to keep her warm as they walk and it isn’t until they get back to the front of their hotel that Sylvain realizes that giving it to her had been a mistake.
He doesn’t get the coat (and the ring) back until they’re in the elevator on the way back up to their room. He almost does it anyway. Ingrid looks away from him, checking her unread texts, and he pulls the box out of his pocket.
“Ingrid,” he starts.
The elevator door dings open and she blinks at him obliviously.
“Hm?”
“I love you,” he says.
Her eyes soften. “I love you too. But, come on, you promised me room service!” She grabs his wrist and drags him out of the elevator.
Sylvain shoves the ring box into his pocket quickly. “How can you still be hungry? We just left the restaurant!”
INTERLUDE II - Hilda
“Ow!” Sylvain hisses, jerking away from Hilda.
She huffs and leans away from him. “It’s a pinprick, you big baby.” She waves the pin at him. “I’ve pricked you a dozen times, why are you so whiny today?”
He frowns. “Ingrid got back from Enbarr last night. Didn’t get a lot of sleep.”
“Ew,” Hilda says, without missing a beat.
“Not like that,” he grumbles. “We just stayed up talking.”
“Goddess, Sylvain, would it kill you to put a ring on that already?” Hilda complains as she leans back in, securing the pin in the fabric instead of his skin this time.
“I’m trying! I had the perfect plan in Fhirdiad and everything,” he whines.
Hilda adjusts the waist of the pants he’s fitting again and then she steps back, crossing her arms. “Then why does she not have the ring?”
“Because I got distracted,” he mutters.
Hilda rolls her eyes. “Look, Sylvain, things like this are delicate. What does Ingrid really care about?”
“Friends, her family, food,” Sylvain lists off instinctively.
Hilda taps her chin thoughtfully. “Isn’t her brother coming to visit you guys? Why not bring him in on it?”
Sylvain lunges off the pedestal and throws his arms around Hilda. “You’re a genius!”
“And you’re ruining my work!” she shrieks, batting him off of her.
iii. with friends and family
“Are you ready for this?” Rowan asks, nudging Sylvain.
Sylvain takes a deep breath. “I mean, I’ve kind of wanted to marry your sister since I was sixteen,” he confesses. Rowan stares and Sylvain winces. “I wasn’t supposed to say that, was I?”
Rowan laughs. “Honestly Sylvain, you make her happy. I know that she’s taken care of with you. As crazy as your guys’ careers are, you do well together.”
“Hey! Hope you didn’t have to wait long!” Ingrid says as she appears out of the crowd to greet them.
She rocks up to kiss Sylvain on the cheek and he quickly redirects, pecking her lips. She blushes prettily and then drags her brother into a big hug. Rowan hugs his sister back, but he wiggles his eyebrows over her head at Sylvain and Sylvain suddenly starts to regret asking Ingrid’s oldest brother to help him with this daunting task.
“We didn’t wait long,” Rowan promises. It’s true that they hadn’t waited long since they had been busy scheming and getting everything ready for Sylvain’s plan in the park nearby where they are planning on walking.
“Good!” Ingrid says brightly.
She slips her hand into Sylvain’s and tugs on it, urging him to start walking. She leads the way down the street, chattering on about Derdriu and the work that they’ve been doing recently and how much they’re enjoying the city, but still missing Fhirdiad and being closer to home and everything.
Rowan keeps up the easy conversation with his sister, asking about Ingrid’s new gig in southern Adrestia where she’s working as a stunt double for a huge action blockbuster. Ingrid beams at that and turns right at the next corner, taking them in the exact opposite direction as the park that Sylvain had been planning everything at.
He tenses. “Hey, wait, Ing, where are we going? I thought we were going to Golden Deer Park?”
She shrugs. “I changed my mind. Rowan’s hardly ever in Derdriu, so I figured we’d go to the waterfront instead. It’s arguably prettier and there’s better food around there.”
Sylvain’s heart sinks and he forces a grin. He can’t say no to her when she’s excited about it. Rowan’s shoulder quake with silent laughter, but he gathers himself as soon as Ingrid looks at him.
“Is that okay? I thought the waterfront would be great!”
“It sounds great!” Rowan replies. His voice is teasing and Sylvain feels like punching him, but he really doesn’t want to punch his potentially future brother-in-law.
“Don’t worry, Ing,” Sylvain says hurriedly. “The waterfront is a great idea. That probably should have been our original plan.” He kisses her on the cheek and pulls out his phone, dropping her hand. “I did just realize that I have to give Hilda a call about work real quick.”
Ingrid, somehow, doesn’t find that odd, so she just points to the statue on the corner nearby. “We’ll meet you over there in a few then,” she says. She links her arm in Rowan’s and drags her brother along.
Rowan shoots Sylvain a look over his shoulder and Sylvain lets out a long sigh before he dials Hilda’s number.
“Hilda, you can tell the others at the park to go home. We’re going to the waterfront instead.”
INTERLUDE III - Bernadetta
“You want me to what?”
“A mural,” Sylvain begs. “Please?”
Bernadetta sighs, adjusting her bag over her shoulder. “Sylvain, I’ve been trying to keep a lower profile in Derdriu. A mural that big is going to draw a lot of attention.”
“Bernadetta, I have tried everything short of walking up to her holding a giant sign. Please, please, please, tell me you’ll help me,” Sylvain pleads.
Bernadetta covers her face with her hands. “Ugh, don’t look at me like that!”
Sylvain carefully grabs her wrists and pulls them away from her face. “Bernie, please, I’m totally and completely desperate. I will owe you one, I promise.”
Bernadetta considers that. “A press rescue. If there’s any attention going my way for this, you have to do something to get them away from me.”
Sylvain pulls her into a hug. “Done!”
iv. grand gestures
The mural looks amazing. It’s in an alley nearby the main V Fashions studios and Sylvain gets Hilda to cut him and Ingrid loose from a shoot one day so that they can go for a walk around the lot and he can get her in front of the mural. Bernadetta had done such an amazing job with it that Sylvain is absolutely sure that nothing could mess this attempt up.
He swings his and Ingrid’s joined hands between them as they walk around the lot until she bursts out laughing and pulls him to a stop. She drops his hand and loops her arms around his neck.
“What’s got you so excited?” she asks.
“We’re in the same city!” he says. “For more than a few days and we’re on set together and I get to watch you wear some really sexy things in the next couple days.”
Ingrid frowns and pinches his cheek. “Oh no, you do not! You are absolutely forbidden from being in the room while that shoot is happening.”
Sylvain’s jaw drops. “What? Why?”
She rolls her eyes. “You remember what happened last time, don’t you?”
He opens his mouth to protest, but he really has no interest in getting verbally thrashed by Hilda and taunted about it for literally weeks like they had been after the Birthday Incident as Ingrid calls it.
“Alright, alright, I’ll stay away. But, come on, can we at least do a loop of the block before we go home?”
She shrugs and drops her arms from around his neck, pecking him lightly one more time. “If we have to.” She hesitates for a moment, looking up at the sky. “Doesn’t it look like it’s going to rain?”
Sylvain frowns at the sky. “No,” he says stubbornly. “It’s not going to rain.”
Ingrid sighs. “It’ll be your fault when we’re both soaking wet later.”
They walk towards the Bernie mural and Sylvain feels his excitement welling up as they get closer and closer. They’re just around the corner from the building where the mural is when the first raindrops fall. Sylvain frowns at the sky as it starts to rain and Ingrid slows to a stop.
“Is that enough of a walk for you?” she asks, squinting as a few raindrops catch in her eyelashes.
“Let’s just loop around this corner!” he says, almost desperately.
Ingrid, because she is an angel, humours him, letting him drag her around the corner of the building to where Bernie’s glorious mural is. Sylvain stops in his tracks, raindrops rolling over his skin, as he stares at the mural. The words on it have already washed away and the features on the beautiful woman are muddied just enough that you can’t tell it’s supposed to be Ingrid.
“Oh!” Ingrid exclaims. “I didn’t know Bernadetta was doing any more pieces around Derdriu! This one looks like a temporary though. She didn’t use waterproof paints.”
Sylvain stares at the half-dissolved mural in despair, trying not to let it show on his face. He’s absolutely speechless. Of course his plans are ruined. Nothing else would make sense at this point.
His phone buzzes with a text in his pocket next to the ring box and he can already tell that it must be from Bernie apologizing for the weather.
“Well,” he grumbles, “I guess not even Bernie can control the weather.”
Ingrid giggles and tugs on his arm. “Alright, now we’re getting soaked. Let’s get out of here.”
INTERLUDE IV - Dorothea
“Does the world hate me or something?” Sylvain asks Dorothea the next day.
They’re both dressed in the thin slips for the shoot and she rolls her eyes, putting her hand on her hip.
“Look, Sylvain, at this point you just need to get her very far away from everyone else so that she has to notice what you’re trying to do.” She inspects her manicure for a moment before looking back at him. “Honestly I’m surprised she hasn’t already noticed what you’re doing.”
Sylvain rubs his temples and one of the nearby stylists gasps immediately smacking at his hands for daring to mess up his perfectly styled hair. He flails out of the attendant’s touch, frowning until the woman huffs and storms off.
“She hasn’t noticed because I’ve been a complete idiot about it,” he grumbles. “I haven’t even brought the ring out! Not once!”
“And you’d had how many attempts?”
“Four if you count the text!”
“I don’t,” she says immediately.
“But I do,” he says dejectedly.
Dorothea sighs. “Sylvain, just get her somewhere private. Do something fun and romantic. She’ll notice."
v. sky high
“What are we doing out here, Sylvain?” Ingrid asks as she closes the car door, adjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder.
Sylvain points up the hill at the building. “That!” he says. He grabs the picnic basket out of the back of the car and tilts his head. “Come on.”
She follows him curiously up the hill until they reach the crest where they can see down the hill to the hot air balloon farm that spreads out in front of them. Ingrid gasps, clapping a hand over her mouth in excitement.
“A hot air balloon ride? Sylvain, aren’t these expensive?”
He stares at her. “Ingrid, you do know we’re both famous models right? We have the money.”
She frowns. “Yeah, yeah, I know, I just,” she trails off, her eyes sparkling. “It seems like a lot!”
He throws an arm around her shoulder and kisses her temple. “For you? I’d buy a dozen hot air balloons, babe. You know that.”
Ingrid twists under his arm and leans up until she can kiss him lightly. Sylvain hums into the kiss, smiling. He pulls back first.
“Alright, alright. As much as I loved that, we do have a reservation to make.”
Ingrid beams and tangles their fingers together as she hurries over to the building where they check-in. Sylvain gives the man at the desk their reservation number and they are escorted out to the field where they find the private balloon he had requested with its operator waiting for them.
Ingrid enters the basket first, beaming as she checks out the area around the basket. Sylvain stands closer to the entrance and watches his excited girlfriend with a fond expression on his face.
“Say, son, you’re the one who wanted the flight for the special purpose, right?” the operator asks, leaning in and keeping his voice down.
“Yeah,” Sylvain agrees. “Special purpose, indeed.”
“How long have you two been together?”
“Long enough and yet not long enough,” Sylvain answers. His lips twitch at the thought of spending the rest of his life with Ingrid.
The operator smiles and heads over to the control, starting the balloon’s ascent. They’re about fifteen feet on the ground when Sylvain finally heads over to Ingrid, patting his pocket to make sure that he has the ring.
To his horror, his jean pockets are empty besides his car keys and his wallet. He stops dead in his tracks and checks again, but his first check had been correct and he suddenly remembers swapping the ring into his other jacket before he had decided to wear this one since Ingrid likes it better.
Ingrid turns to face him before he can loudly swear and he plasters on a smile. She tips her head curiously. “You okay?”
He nods. “I’m great.”
“You did WHAT?” Dorothea demands over the line.
Sylvain winces. “I forgot the ring at home.”
“Oh my god, you’re fucking hopeless.”
INTERLUDE V - Felix
“Just ask her.”
“I can’t!”
“Sylvain, you’re being stupid. It’s easy. Just ask her.”
“Felix, you’re supposed to be on my side.”
“Absolutely not.”
vi. the accident
Sylvain wakes up to Ingrid kissing him on the forehead. He jolts awake, kicking the blanket off the couch as he bolts up into a sitting position. She laughs at him and smooths back his hair. She’s basically just a hazy silhouette in front of him and Sylvain fumbles onto the coffee table for his glasses, shoving them on his face.
They only marginally help since the living room is still dark. Ingrid kicks off her shoes and nudges him with her elbow. He slides over and she curls up next to him, nuzzling against his side as she tucks her feet up.
“Thought you would have gone to bed,” she mumbles, sounding sleepy.
“Nah, I said I’d wait for you,” he says.
“And I was supposed to be home hours ago,” she points out.
Sylvain waves non-committally at the TV. “I got distracted anyway. It’s all good.”
“Mmm,” she hums. “You smell nice.” Her nose presses against his collarbone and Sylvain adjusts his grip on her, pulling so that she’s basically curled up in his lap with her face pressed to the crook of his neck.
“I love you,” he blurts.
“Love you too,” she murmurs.
He kisses the top of her head. “We should go to bed.”
“But I’m comfortable here,” she complains. She nuzzles against him more.
Sylvain laughs breathily and cards his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp gently. She hums into the touch, pressing her lips lightly to the hollow of his throat. He shivers and lightly tugs on her hair, guiding her face back so that he can see her face and kiss her properly.
The kiss is slow and lazy. Ingrid’s hand is cool when it comes up to cup his face, but she slides it around the back of his head to tangle in his hair as she deepens the kiss. She shifts in his lap, straddling him, and Sylvain digs his hands into the soft material of her shirt, sliding one palm to the bare skin of her back.
“Love you forever,” he murmurs into the kiss.
She pulls back for air and her green eyes glint in the gloom of the living room. “Then ask me.”
He tenses, ice flooding through his veins. “What?”
She giggles, flicking aside a lock of his hair and then running her thumb across his cheekbone. “Ask me to marry you, stupid.”
Sylvain’s jaw drops. “But,” he stammers. “I have a ring and I had all these plans and it was going to be a whole thing.”
Ingrid kisses him again. “And how’d that work out for you?” she asks, kissing the corner of his lips.
He huffs. “Not well.”
“Mm,” she hums, agreeing. “So ask me now.”
“At least let me go get the ring.”
“We can get it later.”
“Okay.” He kisses her lightly. “Marry me.”
“Okay.”