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Alear didn’t understand it at first.
That was to be expected, unfortunately. Maybe she knew all about these things a thousand years ago, but that knowledge was out of her reach, now. Whatever friends—or even lovers—she may have had were lost to time. All she currently had were the gossip in the Somniel and the fairytales Chloé loved to share.
It started with a session of strength training. Alfred had been there, as always. His ankles were hooked around hers to keep their feet on the ground while they did sit-ups.
There was no reason for that to stand out. Training usually involved some physical contact, and their shoes had touched more than their skin. She and Alfred had spars where he ended up on the ground beneath her, pinned by her legs and her sword. Compared to that, this should have been nothing.
It was days before Alear wondered if that was the problem—if that was why she kept thinking about it.
Having that realisation turned out to be the beginning of a slippery slope. She began feeling each touch she received from anyone with just a bit too much awareness. She would smile back at Alfred when he passed her by, and then keep watching as he walked up to his retainers and patted them on the shoulders. It made her feel a bit like Louis, whose behaviour she honestly still didn’t approve of, yet she couldn’t make herself stop. It was terribly hypocritical—it being one person rather than everyone didn’t make it okay.
But that was how she learnt that she didn’t want anyone’s touch the way she wanted Alfred’s—and that ‘it’ was actually an enormous crush on her first friend.
After all, Alear may not have had a crush before, as far as she knew, but she remembered him announcing how happy he was to see her first thing in the morning, and how warm it made her feel. She thought about the spars she won—having Alfred’s long legs lined up with hers, and feeling his chest heaving—and what he might have done if she’d kissed him. Spending time with any of her allies was a pleasure, but something about Alfred felt special.
With all of those signs put together, there was little room for misinterpretation.
If only she could figure out how to tell him. It just never felt like the right time; so much had been going on that Alear was afraid of making things any more complicated. What if Alfred didn’t return her feelings? Then she would just pile more stress onto him during what was already a very, very stressful time. She couldn’t bear to do that to her most cherished friend—and to be honest, she was afraid of how much it would hurt.
“Maybe… I can wait until I see a sign, at least,” Alear bargained to herself. She was sitting on a log near the Somniel’s outer edge; no one could hear her except Emblem Corrin, who was, unusually, choosing not to manifest beside her.
“A sign of what?”
Alear jumped. “Alfred! I just meant, um…” Kicking her feet, she struggled for a good lie—but in the end, all she could do was shake her head helplessly. “Never mind. I'm sorry.”
Emblem Corrin must have known he was there long before Alear did. She didn’t know whether to be grateful or upset not to have the buffer of a third person between them.
“This is one of those times where I'm being too much, isn't it?” Alfred’s smile dimmed for a moment, before returning with forced strength. “It’s alright, Divine One. I'll see you later!”
“No, wait!” said Alear, getting to her feet. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Alfred turned back around, hopeful.
“Spend some time with me. I don’t have any plans. …Please?” she added, but there was no need; Alfred had already returned to her.
“Of course! What do you wanna do?”
Alear returned to her spot on the log, and Alfred plopped himself down next to her without a second thought. His smile changed again, losing its hesitance. If only he knew how mesmerising he was.
“Well…” began Alear, “what were you doing on this side of the Somniel?”
Excitedly, he responded, “I was doing laps! I’ve circled the Somniel almost five times today. You should join me next time, Divine One!”
“I'll try my best to keep up with you.”
What would it be like, she wondered, to cup his face in her hands? Would it spark the same way it had when he took her hand while trying to teach her how to make flower crowns? Would it be less? More?
“Are you looking at my hair?” asked Alfred. He took some strands between his fingers and laughed. “This new hairwash Céline told me to use smells a lot nicer than my old stuff!”
“I suppose Céline would know all about hair care. She has a lot of it, after all,” Alear said.
“Don't count yourself out, Divine One. You've got almost as much as she does,” Alfred pointed out. Then, he reached out, twining her blue locks through his fingers. Alear remained frozen in place.
“I… guess you're right…” she managed, trying to relax and not shiver. It was hard when he brushed up against her side while following Alear’s hair down to her waist.
Alfred, relievingly, didn't notice a thing. He kept finger-combing through it while he started to ramble. “Have you ever tried weaving flowers into your hair? My sister can’t because her hair’s too thick—they get buried and then we can never find them again—but your hair would be perfect for it!”
“You think so?”
“Yep! What’s your favourite colour? We can try looking for some flowers the next time we visit Firene,” Alfred suggested joyfully.
“It’s, um…” Alear had never been asked this question before; she didn't have an answer. Glancing at Alfred’s own hair, some strands glowing in the scattered sunlight, what came out was, “Gold?”
“Oh, like the details on your clothes!” said Alfred obliviously. “Great choice, Divine One.”
She smiled to herself. “Thank you. I can make you another flower crown, too.”
Reaching towards the flowers he was currently wearing, Alfred turned red. “I’d like that.”
When his hand finally returned to his own side, Alear tried not to miss it.
Returning to Firene’s flower fields again sounded wonderful. Like the perfect date, even—straight out of a storybook about a princess and her knight that Boucheron lent her. When the war was over, would they have more time for outings like that? They wouldn’t be busy fighting all the time, but royal duties might take its place, for Alfred.
Still, he was sure to spare her as much time as he could. She really loved how deeply he cared about his friends.
Alfred suddenly shook his head vigorously and stood. “I didn’t get to finish my jog! C’mon, you can do the last two laps with me.”
Alear laughed. She’d gotten used to being dragged along behind him by now. “Alright.”
Taking his offered hand, she let herself be pulled to her feet and led out of the clearing. His cheeks were still red, she noticed. She wondered why it wasn’t fading.
She wanted to press her fingers to them; fluster him until he got even redder.
Alfred started at a steady, easy to follow pace. Alear ran at his side, only half a step behind, and decided that she shouldn’t wait to tell him, after all. Even if he had to let her down, she wouldn’t let him feel bad for it. She’d make sure he knew—she wanted him in her life in whatever way she could have him.
“Something on your mind, Divine One?”
Alear beamed. “Nothing bad. You’ll see soon enough, Alfred.”
“Hmm. If you say so,” he allowed.
Maybe, if she was lucky, she’d be able to compare her idle thoughts to reality soon.