(f/n) and Ludwig’s footsteps rang through the air as they walked through the cold stone hallway of the town church.
Gilbert padded silently behind, pouting slightly until he felt something leap onto his back.
“Fusosososo~ Gilly! I’m so glad you came!” squealed a voice in a happy Spanish accent.
“Antonio, get off me!” the albino said sharply, face turning almost as red as his eyes,
“You’re in your own gottverdammte church, at least try to act professional!”
“It so hard when I get to see you, Gilly,” The short, brown haired priest whined, sliding off his friend and onto the ground, “You never come around anymore… I just get excited. Speaking of which, why are you here?”
Gilbert rolled his eyes, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder to (f/n) and Ludwig who were watching the interaction with identical smirks on their faces.
Antonio smiled cheerily, walking over to the pair, white robes swirling behind him, “Hola.
I am Father Antonio. I’m in charge of the church here. And you are?” he asked, holding a hand out for (f/n) to shake.
“(f/n) (l/n).” the girl told him, shaking his hand delicately, “It’s a pleasure.”
“She needs some new clothes,” Ludwig informed the young Father, “As you can see… she most definitely needs zhem.”
Antonio nodded emphatically, “Si, of course! Come with me, chica. I think I have some things in the back…” the man toddled off, talking over his shoulder at (f/n) who had no option but to follow him.
Ludwig stayed behind with his brother, chuckling slightly at the priest’s antics, “You haff quite a… friend zhere, Bruder.” He commented, “I never knew he vas so…. affectionate.”
Gilbert crossed his arms in front of his chest, grumbling swears under his breath while Ludwig laughed like a madman.
“Ah, here we are, chica!” Antonio pulled a thick woolen dress out of the bottom of a large trunk down in the Church basement. He held it up in front of the girl, beaming. “It’s a perfect fit, no?”
(f/n) looked at the garment dubiously but just shrugged, “I’ll try it on.” She said, ducking behind the folding screen to slip off her own dress and pull the new one over her head.
“You know, (f/n)…” Antonio said nonchalantly, “You remind me of someone…”
“Yes. I believe the girl I’m thinking of was an acquaintance of my friend Francis. Do you know him?”
“No… I don’t really know anyone here.” (f/n) said sadly, “I’ll think I recognize someone and then…” she trailed off, pausing for a moment before saying, “It’s strange. Everything around here seems so familiar but whenever I try and grasp why everything gets… fuzzy.”
Antonio nodded, “I feel that way too sometimes. I guess we both just have cluttered minds.” He chuckled.
(f/n) stepped out from behind the screen gingerly, “So… What do you think?” she smiled shyly.
Antonio burst out into a fit of laughter, doubling over and grasping a stitch in his side,
“Ch-Chica… I think that dress… J-Just look at yourself!” He pulled an old brown sheet off a tall full length mirror in the corner of the room.
The girl did as she was bid, laughing as well. The dress was enormous, twice the size it needed to be in the chest area and loose all around. The sleeves fell well past her hands and she had almost tripped over the hem of the skirt when walking out from behind the screen.
“I guess you’re a bit smaller than los mujeres around here, Chiquita.” Antonio giggled,
“Take that off, I think I have something else for you.”
(f/n) nodded, ducking back behind the screen and quickly pulling her own dress on before following the priest into a little back room.
Antonio held out a small bundle wrapped in simple brown paper, “These were my mother’s old dresses from back when she lived in the mountains of Spain. She gave them to me before she died but as you can see… I don’t really need them myself.” He laughed again. “Anyway, I want you to have them.” The priest pressed the package into (f/n)’s hands, “They will probably fit better than anything else I have here and who knows? They might bring you luck as they always did for mi madre.”
“I-I can’t accept this!” (f/n) stammered, “It’s much too big a gift.”
“Don’t be silly. I want you to have the dresses! The Lord knows you’ll need some luck in the times to come…” the priest’s face grew darker and he shoved the dresses more forcefully into (f/n)’s hands.
“What do you mean? What’s coming, Antonio?” she asked worriedly.
“I… I shouldn’t say. You should go, mi querida. Give Gilbert a hug from me when you leave.” Antonio backed away, giving (f/n) no choice but to take the package from him.
“Where are you going?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“To pray… Dios perdone mi alma.” The Father walked off quickly, clutching the cross around his neck and leaving a very confused (f/n) in his wake.