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General Yunan was not a romantic person. She was the Scourge of the Sand Wars, Defeater of Ragnar the Wretched, and the youngest newt to ever achieve the rank of General in the great Newtopian Army, yes, but a romantic is none of those things, and when it came to her newfound crush (just a crush, of course) on Lady Olivia, Yunan was in over her head and head over heels, and neither of those things did she know how to deal with.
Therefore, in what was quite clearly now a lapse of judgment on her part, she went to the resident polycule and trio of traumatized thirteen-year-olds for dating advice.
“So, what you’re saying is you’re in love with Lady Olivia and don’t know what to do about it,” Sasha said with an unimpressed look on her face. She had one arm slung across Anne’s shoulders while the other pet the hair of Marcy, who was laying across her and Anne’s lap.
Yunan shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t say ‘in love,’” she began.
“Dude, we just had to listen to you talk about how nice and pretty she is for fifteen minutes,” Anne deadpanned.
“Yeah, you’re totally in love with her,” Marcy piped up without glancing away from the game she was playing.
Yunan glared at the three of them. “The point is, what do I do?”
“Tell her,” Marcy said helpfully. Anne nodded.
Sasha shrugged. “Betray her several times, go through a redemption arc, and then dramatically confess your love after the tenth near-death experience in a row,” she suggested.
“What,” Yunan said.
Sasha shrugged again. “That’s what I did.”
“I think it was more like twenty near-death experiences in a row,” Marcy corrected.
“You’re right.”
“I’m not doing that,” Yunan said flatly.
“Okay,” Sasha said.
“Then just tell her,” Anne sighed.
Yunan waved her arms around. “How? I can’t just go up to her and say, ‘Greetings, Lady Olivia, this may be sudden but I have recently found out that I am in love with you,’ she’ll just look at me like I’m a brute and then reject me in the harshest way possible!” she exclaimed.
“Puh-lease, she’s way too polite for that,” Anne retorted with a roll of her eyes.
“Besides, she totally likes you too,” Marcy pointed out.
Yunan froze. “She what now?”
“She likes you too, obviously. She makes goo-goo eyes at you every time you do that speech of yours, not to mention all the other stuff,” Marcy explained, still without sparing a glance from her game.
“My speech?”
“You know, your whole -” Marcy lowered her voice, “- ‘I am General Yunan; Scourge of the Sand Wars…’”
“‘Defeater of Ragnar the Wretched,’” Sasha supplied in her own imitation of Yunan’s voice.
“‘and youngest newt to ever achieve the rank of General in the great Newtopian Army,’” Anne finished for them.
“I am frankly offended by this imitation of me,” Yunan stated. “And she does?”
“Yeah, it’s like, so obvious,” Sasha said, “I have no idea why she likes you.”
“Hey, don’t be rude,” Anne chided. Sasha huffed.
“I see…” Yunan mumbled.
“Anyways, just tell her. It’ll be fine,” Anne advised with a wave of her hand. “I mean, you could make it a big thing, like, gifts and music and the whole nine yards but I think for Lady Olivia it’d be better if you’d just… say it.”
Sasha snickered. “What if you just full-on proposed marriage?”
“Would that be an option?” Yunan asked.
Anne stared. “What. No. I mean, not yet. Sasha, stop giving bad advice.”
“Rude.”
“Oh,” Yunan said.
“Do you want to marry her?” Sasha laughed, “And not even five minutes ago you said you weren’t in love with her.”
Yunan glared at Sasha and made an effort to put as much malice as possible in her stare.
“Woah, jeez, General. Quit trying to kill me with your eyes.”
Anne sighed. “Look, just tell her, I guess. Buuut, if you plan something big and dramatic I’d be happy to help!” She grinned.
“I wouldn’t, for the record, but I will anyway,” Sasha said.
“Big and dramatic…Hm. I suppose I will consider this advice,” Yunan said formally as she stood up. “Thank you for your time. I will take my leave.”
“Bye!” Marcy exclaimed. In the entire time Yunan was there, she had not looked away from her game a single time.
“See ya,” Sasha said.
“If you see Sprig on your way out tell him it’s his turn to wash the dishes!” Anne called as she left.