Archive of Our Own ^beta

“I’ve spent the past five years trying to find a husband, chasing after love. But I was never able to be myself around those men throwing themselves at me. It felt like my life was a constant performance. But when I’m with you, Edie, I don’t feel empty. All my troubles seem to fade away, and I don’t care about chasing after love anymore… because I think I’ve found it here, with you.”

-

Marianne put her bookmark on the page, and placed the book back on her bedside table. In the months since she’d first read the Mystical Songstress series, she must have reread that scene dozens of times, but it never failed to bring a tear to her eye.

The series, by Bernadetta Von Varley, followed the opera singer Dorothea Arnault. The first book covered her rise to fame from poverty, and her quest to find a rich husband whilst she was still beautiful. Even though they were so different, Marianne saw a part of herself in Dorothea - the part of her that said she must hide her true self from others, otherwise she’d be hurt.

In the final scene, Dorothea performed in front of the Emperor, and the richest Duke in the land proposed to her. It was a perfectly satisfying conclusion, but of course Marianne wanted to see what happened next.

The second book seemed to be about the build-up to the wedding, where Dorothea was having doubts that she deserved this life, with a subplot about her befriending Emperor Edelgard. In a twist, she ran away from her own engagement party, and found herself in the neighbouring country of Brigid - in the final scene she woke up in the arms of their Queen Petra.

The rest of the series, well, she didn’t want to spoil it, but it took a vastly different direction. The suitors from the previous books were discarded, and it became a love triangle between Dorothea, Edelgard and Petra (though of course, it was a bit more complicated than that).

-

“And what is so strange about a woman who wishes to be marrying another woman?”

-

Marianne had read the series at a turning point in her life, where she started questioning herself, and realised she was much more interested in women than men. She had the series to thank, in a way. Despite the historical setting, the series was always firm that same-gender feelings were nothing to be ashamed of. Dorothea was able to toss aside any worries, and so too did Marianne.

The series itself was unfortunately niche. Marianne was only able to find a few brief discussions of it on the internet, and what she found wasn’t able to satisfy her. So she tried looking into the author’s other works.

Bernadetta Von Varley was a very elusive figure, never doing interviews, no social media presence, it was like she didn’t exist. Even the ‘about the author’ section didn’t tell Marianne anything - merely being a picture of a hedgehog and a one sentence description - ‘Bernadetta Von Varley isn’t a very social person’.

Marianne felt a closeness to this mysterious woman. But all she could do was order her other books, in hopes they would be just as good as the Songstress series.

Her first novella - The Recluse and the Demon - had been a story about a shy woman who ended up in a relationship with her former teacher. It was vastly different from the other works Marianne had read, but was just as compelling.

-

I felt her breasts pressing against my back as she leant in to show me the mistake.

“For this question, you need to account for-” But I wasn’t able to focus on her words. I was back in college, at one of Professor Eisner’s lectures. I’d try to pay attention, but whenever she took off her sweater, revealing one of her low-cut shirts, it was impossible.

Back then, I could only dream of something like this. A personal tutoring session, one hand marking my work, the other on my waist.

“Are you paying attention?” She asked, teasingly.

“O-of course!” But she knew I wasn’t.

“Then,” she let go of me, “solve the next one.” She sat on the desk next to my paper, her fishnet-clad thighs inches away, as if daring me to touch them.

I tried to do the exercise, ignoring the distraction of the goddess’s legs. When I finished, she picked up the paper, and glanced at it with her ever-vacant expression. This may all be an act, but I still wanted to impress her.

“Good girl.” She said, and a shiver went down my spine.

-

Vastly different.

Reading The Recluse and the Demon was like seeing a whole new side to Bernadetta’s writing. The Songstress series was beautiful, incredible, and the romance was so tender. But this was hot. 100 pages of self-indulgent trashy sex, and Marianne couldn’t get enough. Quite frankly, it awakened things in her she didn’t know were there.

On her second reading, she noticed a small typo that made her blush.

-

“Tell me, and look me in the eye, how long have you wanted this?”

“So long.” I met her gaze. Even as she toyed with my clit, she showed no signs of emotion. It was the same sexy gaze I’d longed for since- “I remember the first lecture of yours I went to. I made eye contact with you for just a second and- ah- it felt like a dagger had been shot through my heart. You- you’ve always been so hot, Professor Ei-” I couldn’t hold my moans back any more.

“Is that so? I remember that lecture too. You sat at the very back, away from everyone else. You seemed so nervous. You’ve always been so adorable, Bernadetta.”

-

Now, Marianne wouldn’t want to make assumptions. But accidentally typing your own name instead of the main character’s? It seemed clear that she was projecting onto this character…

And Professor Eisner was right, she was adorable.

Bernadetta had a couple of other novellas, of similar quality. Both involved a timid young woman opening up (metaphorically and literally) to women with massive tits. Sometimes, Marianne would… take care of herself whilst reading them. Although she told herself she was just focusing on the characters, there was always a thought running through her mind, about the person who wrote them, what an imagination she had, how horny she must have been when writing them.

She always felt dirty afterwards.

-

It was a shock one day, when Marianne received a message from a friend: ‘Hey, you like this author right?’, with a link to a blog post on a bookshop’s website.

‘6th of the Garland Moon: Bernadetta Von Varley Book Signing.
Don’t miss Bernadetta Von Varley’s FIRST public book signing at Margrave Books, Gautier.’

Of course, Marianne had to go. Though it was a long journey, she had to meet the woman she’d been thinking about for so long.

She just hoped she wouldn’t come off as weird.

When Marianne reached the town centre, it took her 10 minutes to find the bookshop. A kind local pointed her down a narrow arcade, in which she found Margrave Books. Pushing the door open, she saw a table with Bernadetta’s name on it, but no author. Just a cheerful man behind the counter.

“Um, excuse me. I’m here for the Bernadetta Von Varley book signing. Is she out right now, or…”

“Just one moment!” The man went through a door at the back, and Marianne could hear his shouts - “Bernie! There’s someone here to see you!”

“I can’t!” Marianne heard a high-pitched voice respond. A very cute voice, and Marianne felt butterflies in her stomach. “Tell them I’m suddenly ill! And that I’m very sorry!”

“Come on, it’s just one lady. Would it help if I told you she was gorgeous, about our age?”

“It doesn’t!”

“I’m giving you two minutes, or I’m carrying you out there myself. Sorry Bernie, you need a little tough love.”

“Huh? No you can’t- two minutes!” This was followed by footsteps running upstairs, and a loud slam.

The man returned to the shop.

“Sorry for the wait, she’ll be here any second.” He smiled as if nothing was wrong.

“If it’s easier, I can leave.” Marianne mumbled. “I wouldn’t want to force-”

“Ah, you heard all that huh?” The man frowned. “She’ll be fine, this is a big step for her but I know she’ll get through it. What was your name?”

“Marianne.”

“Marianne! Lovely name, are you single?”

“Um-”

Luckily, the question was interrupted when the door opened again, and out came… a hedgehog plush, held in front of the face of a woman with purple hair. Standing behind the man, the plushie moved for a second, and Marianne made eye contact with her. Then, the woman shuffled over to the table, and sat down. Marianne went to stand with her.

“Hey, so…” / “Um…” Both of them spoke at the same time, after an awkward pause.

“Oh, g-go ahead!”

“No, you can go first.”

“So, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Bernadetta Von Varley, um, you probably already knew that… thanks for coming…”

“I’m Marianne. I’m a fan, I’ve read all of your books. Or at least, all of them I could find.”

Another awkward pause. The man behind the counter offered Marianne a chair, which she accepted, before heading out to buy some groceries, so he said. Bernadetta’s face became visible once more as he left, her eyes pleading him not to leave her alone with a stranger.

“I hope Sylvain didn’t say anything weird.” Bernadetta finally spoke. “He’s um, he flirts with every woman he meets.”

“He was fine.” Marianne responded. Maybe ‘fine’ wasn’t the right word, but she didn’t want to cause any more problems.

“Well, I say every woman, I mean… he doesn’t flirt with me. Though that’s um, because he knows I only like women.”

“I gathered.” The words were out of Marianne’s mouth before she knew she was saying them. “Ah, sorry. I um, also like women.”

“That’s nice.”

A third awkward pause.

“I like the hedgehog.”

“Oh, thank you, I made him myself.”

“Really? That’s very impressive. I used to do sewing, but I was never that good at it. The needlework is very good.”

“Thank you.” Bernadetta held out the hedgehog, pointing at its stomach - which had several flowers embroidered on it. “This is the part I’m most proud of.”

“I can see why. It’s gorgeous.” Though Marianne could hardly focus on it, when Bernadetta’s beautiful face was right there. She had a lovely smile. “Ah, is this the hedgehog on your about the author page?”

“Yes!” Bernadetta’s smile widened at the recognition. “I don’t really like pictures of myself, I never look good in them.”

“I find that hard to believe, when you’re so pretty.” Once again, Marianne spoke without thinking. Bernadetta’s eyes widened, and Marianne was scared she’d messed everything up.

“No! That’s impossible! You’re way prettier…”

Marianne blushed at the compliment. “Oh, um, thank you. It means a lot.” Hearing her say that, it was like a dream come true.

After that ice-breaker, the conversation became a lot easier. Bernadetta no longer needed her plushie mask (though eventually Bernadetta brought out another plushie to say hello), and Marianne no longer felt the need to apologise every other sentence. It felt like meeting an old friend for the first time, Or maybe, it felt like meeting her favourite fictional character…

“So when you say you’ve read all my books, do you mean you’ve read the entire Mystical Songstress series, or-?”

“I’ve also read The Recluse and the Demon, The Hermit and the Devil, and The Karaoke Bar.”

Upon hearing this, Bernadetta turned bright red. “Oh no- I thought those were lost to time…” She laughed nervously. “Especially Recluse, where did you find that?”

“A second-hand seller online.” Marianne said. “I enjoy it, it’s probably my favourite outside the songstress series.”

“Oh no…” Bernadetta planted her face on the table. “It’s so bad, I wrote it in college cause I had a crush on my teacher.” Marianne chuckled at that, it was just as she’d imagined. “Though obviously I never got with her. Not that I’ve gotten with any-” She cut herself off.

“Really?” Marianne was surprised. “You write romance so well, I was sure you must have-”

“Ha… I have a good imagination.” Bernadetta sighed. “Though, there were a few scenes in Recluse that were alright, like…”

-

Usually when Byleth was marking papers, she preferred to not be disturbed. But it had been several hours since she’d arrived home, and I knew she’d want some tea by now.

When I opened the door, I found her fast asleep at her desk. The Ashen Demon, who struck fear into the hearts of students, was drooling on someone’s essay. I could admire her sleeping face all day, but now wasn’t the time.

I brought her a blanket, and kissed her forehead as I draped it over her shoulders. As I closed the door once more, the hint of a smile formed on her lips.

-

Marianne could listen to her voice all day. Bernadetta was incredibly passionate once she got talking, going into detail about small choices she’d made in her writing. For example, The Karaoke Bar was originally going to be much longer, but whilst writing it Bernadetta had the idea for the songstress series, and decided to write that instead. When explained, Marianne could really see how the bar employee resembled Dorothea Arnault.

Somehow, they were still talking hours later, when Sylvain returned from his absurdly long grocery trip (with exactly zero groceries in hand). At that point, Marianne really had to leave, otherwise she’d miss the last train. But before she left, she exchanged numbers with Bernadetta.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to talk to someone like this. I’m really glad you came, Marianne. Even though no one else came, this has been the best signing I can imagine.”

“I’m grateful that you ran this. You’re everything I imagined you were, and more. I hope we can talk like this again.”

“I would like that.”

Hours later, as she was almost home, Marianne received a text: ‘OMG I NEVER SIGNED ANY OF YOUR BOOKS DID I?’

Her reply: ‘I suppose we’ll have to meet up again then.’

-

“Being away from you is such sorrow, but it makes our time together all the sweeter. Even when we are apart, you are always on my mind, Mari.” *

*note: you used my name again instead of the love interest’s