Entry tags:
secret surprise for callie
Not for the first time, Claude considers that there's just not nearly enough time in the day for all he wants to do.
For example, his personal projects. One thing he's been working on lately has been poison development, of course. He has a particular interest in a certain innocuous plant, wanting to make it something he can use with no one the wiser. Getting it to be functional has been surprisingly tricky, however, or at least for what he wants it to do.
He could talk for hours about the nitty gritty, but he supposes the simplest way to describe the issue, or at least one of many, is that it seems to lose some of its effect when incorporated into food.
Additionally, Claude knows he has to keep up with his bow training. Oh, sure, he jokes and brushes it off whenever anyone asks him about it upfront... but Claude knows that these aren't the kind of things that can be tossed aside so carelessly. Marital skill is something he has to have, when he returns to Almyra, and now, while he studies here in Fodlan, the place where the other half of his blood originates. Getting caught unprepared is one of the worst things in the world; he knows this from experience. So practicing his bowmanship is vital.
And that's not even talking about all the research and nosing about he's been doing in regards to Garreg Mach, and the preparations for the battle at Gronder Field, and, oh yeah, he guesses he should probably remember to put in some studying for the actual classes that he's taking...
So, honestly, it's probably kind of silly that he's agreed to yet one more project. At the rate he's going, sooner or later someone is going to see through his relaxed guise, and realize there's a lot more to him than he shows... and some particularly intelligent people, like Hubert, already know that he's pretty clever about things. He'd like to have at least a little bit of an edge to him, another trick and card up his sleeve.
Claude can't help it. He thinks about the circumstances that surrounded him making the suggestion in the first place, about how Dimitri had approached him so sincerely so that he could give a few kids some happiness in the difficult existence of living, how he had lit up when Claude had agreed to exchanging stories or making something up just for them.
Also, okay, fine, maybe he was done in by the kiss that Dimitri pressed upon his cheek before they'd parted ways that night.
Moving some of his many books out of his dresser so that he can find the least flashy things to wear, Claude whistles out a sigh. He shouldn't get his hopes up. He knows that. He likes Dimitri - he's liked Dimitri for a while now, he's pretty sure.
There's no helping it; Dimitri is a rather likeable guy. While he may be a bit stiff, there's no denying how earnest he is, or how much he wants to help other people. He's sweet, and, frankly, it's kind of surprising to Claude just how well he's managed to do despite the Tragedy having such an impact on his life.
But he's the proper prince of a nation, and, as far as anyone else knows, Claude is the eventual heir to the Riegan name. No doubt Dimitri won't even look at him seriously. Claude tells himself that as he tosses aside replacement uniform after replacement uniform. That kiss had clearly just been - a mistake, done by a really sleepy Dimitri who hadn't even realized what he was doing. Hell, he doesn't even remember it.
Yet he made a promise, and, well, Claude isn't afraid to be a liar. Being a liar is sometimes the best thing TO be, frankly speaking. Yet there's no reason to lie about some reason to not help Dimitri with the stories he wants to help tell to the kids down in town. It'd be like kicking a puppy and, frankly, Claude can't think of any reason or excuse that would warrant something like that.
Besides... He needs a break now and then, despite what people think about him - that impression of him being some relaxed jokester. Hanging around with Dimitri and coming up with stories to tell to the kids down in town... It'll be fun.
Even if, the entire time, he'll be trying very hard not to think about how him and Dimitri, down in a tavern together, is kind of like a date.
In a school where a substantial portion of the student body are from noble lineages, Claude knows it's not too unusual for a lot of the students to have much fancier styles of clothing for when they go out for leisure. He's seen it plenty of times over in the Black Eagle house, and a few times over in the Blue Lion house, although Dimitri seems much less inclined to those sorts of things himself despite being house leader and the crown prince. Mostly, much like with Felix, he's only seen him change into riding and training gear.
Claude is quite glad to say that he's also not the type of person who likes to go around flaunting the kind of expensive clothing that's expected of him as a noble. Oh, sure, he still has a couple of outfits, just in case - they can be just as important as any weapon or poison after all. But for the most part... He prefers things which are considerably less flashy, and that let him blend in a little more with people who haven't inherited massive amounts of wealth.
In particular, that lets him blend in with all the people from Fodlan. That too is a lesson he's had to learn - that standing out too much, that looking too obviously out of place, is the kind of thing that can get him hurt.
So in the end, he pulls out a plain shirt and pants, and favors a pair of well worn riding boots. They don't look particularly amazing, but they've done him well enough on horse and wyvernback both.
While his uniform cloak is the brilliant yellow that signifies him as the current head of the Golden Deer house, Claude pulls out instead a simple green one that he rather likes. Nothing fancy, nothing too brilliant... but it suits him well enough. Along with a set of bow and arrows just in case they run into anything out on the road into town, even though the area around Garreg Mach is calm, Claude feels pretty set.
The same can't be said for Dimitri, and he's amused when he steps out of his room only to almost run into him - still clad in his school uniform, coming from the direction of the stairs. "Ah- " Dimitri stumbles to a halt, hands already held up to stop the door so that he doesn't go crashing through it. "I'm sorry, Claude! For, well, multiple things, as of right now. Obviously I apologize for almost running into you-"
"-And I bet you apologize for not being ready for our outing into town, huh?" Claude finishes, chuckling. Dimitri is the most open book, after all. "Don't worry about it. Let me guess, Teach asked you for a favor, huh?"
Effectively called out, Dimitri takes a step away from the door and folds his hands behind his back. "You have me so well understood that I half wonder if you were there watching when the request was made," he says, as Claude shuts and locks his room door. "I was simply helping with some greenhouse chores. Dedue takes incredible care of the place, of course, but he is only one man... The people from the church needed some more assistance from myself and the Professor." There's a pause, where Dimitri is clearly debating on saying something else, before he shakes his head. "At any rate... I will hurry and quickly change into more appropriate clothing, post-haste."
"No worries." Adjusting the cloak he's carrying, Claude hums. "I can just wait outside here in the hall, or maybe down by the stables. It's no big deal."
Of course, even if that's what he says, Dimitri's look of regret says it won't be that easy. "No, I couldn't have you simply stand about aimlessly, or prepare the horses all on your own. Please, step into my room. There's a chair at my desk that you can sit at. I won't take long in changing my clothing."
Well... He'd be a liar if he said that he wasn't interested. What is he supposed to say here? No? Absolutely not. It's not every day that he gets a chance to peer inside his fellow house leaders' rooms... Although he suppose he can't say he's surprised that Dimitri is the one he gets a chance at. Even disregarding the fact that her room is in the girls' area of the dorms, Claude is pretty sure that Hubert would kill anyone who even thought about going into Edelgard's room, even if she actively gave permission.
That's how Claude finds himself sinking down into the chair of a tidily organized desk, and he glances around with a small whistle. "Wow... This is exactly what I would expect from you, Your Princeliness. It really is a nicely kept room. Are you looking to impress someone?"
"Teasing just like always, are you?" Dimitri says with a shake of his head, undoing the cape attached to his uniform and draping it over the pull out screen that's near to his own drawers. "I'll have you know that I always strive to make this sort of environment clean, just for my own sake more than anything else. Well..." As he steps behind the screen, his awkward silence is just a little unavoidable. "There is another reason, but it sounds rather self-important."
It's going to take a few minutes, at the very least, for Dimitri to get dressed, even if his outfit does end up a lot more simple than his school uniform. Claude is more than happy to start snooping around in the meanwhile, taking in the military neat bed that's been done up for the morning, and the lances that have been carefully propped up in one corner. Who does he think will attack him while he's in his own room? "You know, some people would say it's fine if a future king is a little self important."
"That's exactly what I'm trying to avoid." Dimitri sighs, and Claude smiles a bit. "You see, I... Well, I would rather not cause too much trouble to the workers of the castle, back home, with the state of my room. Staying tidy of my own volition is important for when I am living here as a student, of course, and it will be important when I am traveling with everyone dealing with their own circumstances... but when I am accepted as the king of Faerghus, well, I don't want to cause trouble for those working around me."
How so typically Dimitri - the kind of guy who seems so delighted every time he and Annette can go on a walk together, smiles on their faces as they exchange conversation, or how aggressively protective he gets around Dedue as they attend the academy, or how rumor has it that he tried to spoil Ashe with sweets from down in town to the point it made the young man go as red as Sylvain's hair.
Idly, Claude wonders if Dimitri had done it in some adorable attempt at flirting. Ashe is a nice guy, sweet and earnest and capable of picking locks. Claude would be lying if he said all of that wasn't attractive to him, even if not enough for him to ever think about making a move.
Chuckling, Claude loops back around to Dimitri's desk. Behind the screen, he can hear the light clank of metal against metal as Dimitri removes the gauntlets he favors. "You're one of the few nobles who fusses so much about the state of his room because he's fussing about the working conditions of the people he pays to clean up after him."
There's a beat of silence where Claude suspects Dimitri is shaking his head before he remembers that he's hidden behind a screen. "They aren't paid to clean up after me," Dimitri insists, and there's the light thump of his gauntlets being placed down upon something - probably a side table or such. "They are paid to keep the castle in a good condition. There is no need for any sloppiness on my part when they all have so much that they need to do in the first place."
Such a good guy... It's enough to make Claude almost feel a little bad as he starts to snoop around on his desk, although he's not finding anything particularly revealing. There look to be a couple of letters saved from Duke Fraldarius that are mostly just checking in on Dimitri, along with some books checked out from the library in regards to the latest lecture that Shamir gave on tactics.
"With thinking like that, you might end up as a rather popular king, Your Princeliness," he says idly, not reading too deeply into those letters. He'll accept who they're from, but, well, anything else would feel a little too nosy for even him right now. At least, for no reason, anyway.
"I can only hope that I will do well by everyone in Faerghus, regardless of how popular I am." Another light metallic clunk - must be his boots next. "There are enemies out there that would still seek to do us harm, after all..."
For now, he starts to flick through Dimitri's homework, having failed to find anything really engaging. He really shouldn't be surprised, Claude supposes. Dimitri is always such an open book, even when it comes to things he doesn't like or that he'd rather not go into detail about... There's nothing enlightening here. As he goes through papers, he decides to bring up things outright. "You haven't been attending any of Hanneman's lectures, right, Dimitri?"
"Hm?" There's the sound of cloth rustling, and being set to the side. Even something like this is still easy to hear. Dimitri isn't subtle at all... One of his charm points. "Oh, no. I'm afraid that magic rather escapes me, whether of the martial variety or healing. I suppose that must make me come off as not particularly intelligent..."
Claude clicks his tongue. "Hey now. What's with the sudden surge of no confidence? You would be one of the first people to tell anyone that they're talented and smart, if they were feeling down on themselves. Everyone has their talents, and can help out in different ways. There's no one kind of intelligence, et cetera, et cetera."
"Have you been eavesdropping on some of my conversations, Claude?" Rather than annoyed, however, Dimitri only sounds amused. "Still, you are right there.... I suppose it is something that is easier to say when spoken to others instead of to one's self."
"We have a clearer view of other people than we do ourselves, to be fair." Claude chuckles. "Anyway, I asked because I was wondering if I could ask for your input on something he'd said... Or go looking through your papers, either way. What about the class that the teach gave? I saw you writing some notes on the tactics that they were talking about."
There's a light bump of some random body part or another smacking into a wall or a bit of furniture, a quiet hiss on Dimitri's end, and then the prince focuses back on the conversation once more. "Oh, if you would find my notes useful, then by all means - although they won't help a strategist like you very much, I imagine. After all, you're quite clever, Claude - possibly one of the most clever people in the school."
Maybe because he's still thinking about that kiss from a few days ago, Claude feels his stupid and silly little heart flutter almost right out of his chest. Hastily, in a purely metaphorical sense, he bats it back down again, and takes a breath. There are more important things to think about, and he lightly turns the parchment he's looking at to the side as he continues on.
"Now what makes you think I'm so clever, Your Princeliness? All I like to do is stay out of trouble." There's a snort from behind the screen, and Claude has to laugh as well. "Okay, so I like to stay out of fights or injury, even if not necessarily trouble..."
"I was about to say," Dimitri chuckles, the sound of his clothing dropping into something - probably a washing bin or such.
"Anyway," Claude continues, "it's fine, I think, if I were to learn something from your notes. We both mentioned it literally just a few seconds ago, didn't we? That there are different kinds of intelligence? Even if I'm clever, your way of thinking and my way of thinking are both two entirely different kinds of things. Heck, even a clever person might forget that there's nothing wrong with good ol' basic charging through, for certain occasions..."
A drawer slides out, no doubt to retrieve more casual clothing. Claude wonders what that will look like on Dimitri. "Have you been speaking with Felix?" Dimitri asks him. "He says the same thing when I try to do tactics... that I'm the kind of person who only knows frontal assaults, and things like that..."
"You know, there's a saying that the kind of tactics we use reflects on our personalities," Claude comments, pausing as he turns the next page. Now this doesn't look like homework... Or notes. It's sloppily written, clearly hasty, and some of the words don't even form proper sentences. Most of them don't, honestly. "So I'm not surprised that someone as honest as you prefers the more upfront fights... Although..."
Claude is generally pretty good at multitasking, when it comes to reading and doing literally anything else while he's reading. It's part of why reading has become such a problem in his life that books are absolutely filling up more space in his room than anything else he might have. That goes from clothes to just somewhere to go to sleep. However, as he tries to decipher the meaning behind what he's reading... It's a little difficult to stay completely focused on two things at once.
He only snaps out of it when Dimitri prods at him - not literally, simply his voice rising past the screen after a few seconds. "Although what, Claude?"
What was he saying? Oh, right. Claude lets loose a soft laugh. "Sorry, I was reading through your notes. Anyway, it's not a surprise that an honest guy like you prefers honest tactics, but it's for that exact reason that you really should work on things a little more.... hmmm... roundabout, I'd say. A little sneaky. After all, if it were me, that's what I'd definitely use against you."
"Oh? Does that mean you're giving away some of the tactics you're going to use for Gronder Field, Claude?"
He laughs again - a little louder, a lot more amused. "Hey, you didn't even agree to slide me some of the secrets that you'll use on your end! Don't try to cheat me, Your Princeliness! Besides, even if I say that they're sneaky tactics I'll be using, it's not like that will tell you exactly what kind of sneaky tactics they are. Once you start caring less about honor, an entirely different world opens to you."
Almost as different as these notes he's reading... It feels like quite a revealing tale, honestly, even with what little he can gleam from the disjointed sentences and ideas that have been scrawled there. A tale that any person could connect to Dimitri's own life story, the tragedy that not a single soul in all of Fodlan doesn't know. Still, despite the fact that Claude can see the clear and obvious connection, that doesn't take away from the rather poetic flow of words - like shattered pieces of a mirror held up by string to shine in sunlight.
"Hey, you know how we're supposed to come up with stories for the kids down in town?" he says, because, hey, it's certainly relevant to what's going on right now.
"Yes?" Dimitri asks, voice just a little bit muffled as he no doubt slides a shirt over his head.
"Well, these notes you wrote down seem like they could be pretty good," Claude mentions, although his brain is turning over a couple of descriptions that are in this. The story being about Dimitri's own trauma and a need for justice is one thing, but that kid from the stars... He squints, forces himself to untangle the messy writing. Green eyes, a braid - Nah. Except... The description is too close to home-
There's the light bump of an elbow hitting the wall. "Notes?" Dimitri echoes, before he suddenly trips out from behind the screen with a look of panic stretched across his face. He's mostly dressed, now, although his shirt isn't entirely done up or tucked into his pants. Claude barely has a chance to notice that, not with how Dimitri nearly flings himself forward so that he can press his palms across the paper desperately. "Ah-! These are- not for reading!" he says hastily, face having gone a burning red brighter than any of the tomatoes growing in the greenhouse. "How far did you get!?"
That's just a normal embarrassed reaction. Claude tries to tell himself that, so that his pounding heart will maybe calm down a little. It's just the normal embarrassed reaction of a guy who wrote something private, and didn't mean for anyone else to see. Just that. Not because the other main character in the notes had curly brown hair, or a braid which framed one side of his face, or green eyes. That's just a coincidence. Right?
Just a coincidence. And yet Claude thinks of the last word that had been scribbled right near the bottom, a simple kiss? with a question mark, and makes himself say, "Sorry, but I managed to read the whole thing."
It's not a lie, either, although Claude would quite possibly have said that too just to see and gauge Dimitri's reaction. Claude is simply a fast reader, and always had to be. He'd had to steal time back home, with his siblings not content to leave him be more often than not, and then quicker still when it came to stealing information for himself. Now it's just a habit he can't break no matter what.
That burning red on Dimitri's face almost deepens somehow, and the blond straightens up, free hand going up to his mouth. Something about that bashful expression sends something electric up Claude's spine - he wants to see that look on Dimitri's face all the time now.
"I... apologize greatly," he forces himself to say, not meeting Claude's gaze. "I should have thrown out that entire thing immediately after I had written it. However, well - all of it came to me as I lay dreaming, and it was so clear to my mind when I awoke that it somehow felt imperative I put ink to paper. That's no excuse..."
Claude swallows, hard. That... is a pretty good confirmation just what he's been trying to deny this whole time. A part of him wants to make absolutely sure, ask and get that answer right there in the open... but what good would that do? Wouldn't it just make Dimitri a lot more miserable, having to spell it out like that? He's so honest that he wouldn't even take it as a chance to lie.... And thinking about forcing Dimitri to do something miserable like that...
"Hey, you don't have to apologize," he manages after a moment, taking advantage of the way Dimitri isn't looking at him to get his composure back. He'd been sure to firmly temper his expectations after being let down so harshly before - when Dimitri had kissed his cheek, and then apparently promptly forgot it the next morning. So this... really is the most unexpected uppercut. How unfair, Your Princeliness.. "Besides, I was the one who was looking through your notes, right?" Since he'd been snooping in them even before he'd gotten permission...
Dimitri shakes his head, because of course he would protest. "I should have taken it into consideration that there was a chance they could still end up in view of another person," he says, sounding distinctly miserable underneath the stern tone he's trying to take to himself more than to Claude. "What if I accidentally carried them into class one day, and someone else flipped through them by accident, much like you did just now? That would cause so much trouble for you... I cannot apologize enough for my carelessness."
Hoo boy. Maybe he should have expected this from the start. "It's fine," Claude says, trying to come off as relaxed and not entirely sure if he's managing as well as he would like. "I mean, it didn't happen, so all's well that ends well." Sure. That's one way to put it.
At least him appearing to keep his cool is having exactly the kind of effect he wants on the conversation. Dimitri finally glances back to him. His brows are drawn together tightly and his bottom lip sucked in before Dimitri gets a handle on himself once again. "I simply... do not want you to think that I think of you disrespectfully, Claude."
Out of everyone he has ever known, Claude suspects that Dimitri is the only person who would ever describe a crush on another person as disrespect. "You know, someone people might have the opposite to say if they learned that the crown prince of Faerghus was dreaming about them," he says idly. His stupid heart refuses to settle down. Is there a way to remove one's heart, and still keep going on? He's asking for a friend. "For example, an honor or romantic."
Dimitri looks away again, something clearly on the tip of his tongue that he doesn't dare give any voice or weight to. It takes him a second to speak up again. "I understand that many have such a high view of myself," he admits. "However... Claude, while you may be correct in that other people would say such things, you did not say what you felt on the matter."
...Ah. This is what he gets for being too subtle and roundabout.
While Claude is realizing his mistake, Dimitri keeps going. "I understand that any feelings between the two of us would only lead to various problems - things that I am certain you would not want to deal with. As the only heir to the Riegan name, of course it would be reckless to pursue this kind of relationship... I know you must have a lot of familial struggles that you have to bear in mind, just as any of us with a legacy to step up to. That would be even entertaining a relationship between us in the first place, which is-" And he pauses, as though suddenly aware of his own words.
Now, see... Claude can't say he likes that very much, the implications in the empty space where Dimitri cut himself off. Stepping away from the desk, he moves around the one thing between them - a simple wooden chair - and steps closer to Dimitri. "You know, you were right in that I hadn't said what I felt on learning that you had a dream about me," he says, watching Dimitri's shoulders jerk with an attentive eye. Good - the more he can keep Dimitri surprised, the more of the other man's attention he has on him. "So let me have a chance to speak, instead of deciding how things absolutely must be ahead of time."
Dimitri blinks blankly at him for a moment, mind catching up to the conversation at hand, before he jerks his head in a quick nod. "I... Of course. Then... What are your thoughts?"
Shit. He's going to have to be actually upfront and honest here. It's not the worst thing in the world, but Claude usually likes preparing for moments like this. Still, he won't back down now. Looking up at Dimitri, Claude draws a smile back onto his own lips. "First of all, back when you first approached me the other morning, I thought you were going to ask me out on a date in the first place, you know."
Shoulders jerking straight, Dimitri boggles at him. This entire conversation has been throwing him for a loop, apparently. "Wh- you did? Why?"
This wasn't how Claude planned to bring that night up - as a matter of fact, he'd planned to never mention it at all. Still, Dimitri doesn't have to know that. "Well, to start with," Claude says idly, reaching up to tap at his cheek, "You did kiss me right here, on the night that you sought me out in the library."
He can almost hear Dimitri's brain crashing. Honestly, even with the situation being what it is, Claude can't help but smile a little bit as he watches Dimitri's mental capacity nose dive faster than a drunk wyvern. So maybe it's only fair that the table gets turned around on him as Dimitri looks back up at him with those bright blue eyes and says breathlessly, "So we must be wed."
This time, it's his own brain that Claude can hear shattering into a million pieces. "What," he croaks, barely able to get that single word out.
Now that he's gotten the words out of him, that stirs up some really weird life in Dimitri, and he straightens up with his hands clenched before him. "Of course, I should have done this from the very start after I behaved in so scurrilous a manner," he says, faster than his normally careful and polite speed. "It will be difficult to deal with matters regarding my claim to the crown and how you are the only individual who can inherit the Riegan name, but I am positive that, with some effort-"
"Dimitri-"
"Would I be the one to have the dowry?" Dimitri asks, although he seems to be talking to himself more than he's talking to Claude. "This isn't something that is normally approved of, when it comes to royal weddings, but you would not have to worry, Claude, I would let no one say a word to you. No, I would make myself quite clear on the matter-"
"Dimitri," Claude tries again, although he already knows he's not going to get through like this. But, it's just - the idea of getting married, to Dimitri, to this fairy tale prince of a man with those earnest blue eyes and that golden hair who would blush as he'd slide the ring onto Claude's finger-
Oh no, now it's starting to infect him, too.
Oblivious to Claude's own mental brain fritzing, Dimitri takes a breath. "Of course, even ignoring proposals and dowries, the wedding itself is the most important thing," he continues. "I will have to do careful research into the wedding customs in the Alliance. Back in Fhirdiad, I know for a fact that my parents still have their wedding garb held locked away carefully. If it would not be too much trouble, Claude, if you would not mind to wear something of theirs... For tradition, of course, although it would only be fair if you would want me to participate in something from your side of the family-"
Claude smacks his hands together right in front of Dimitri's face. "Hey," he says mildly, while Dimitri stares at him once again. "I think we both need to calm down and take a big breath, Your Princeliness. You're acting like you popped my cherry, instead of simply kissing me on the cheek. We don't have to leap right to marriage. But," he continues on, when he sees Dimitri droop ever so slightly at the 'rejection', "dating is another matter entirely."
Slowly, Dimitri comes out of his self-induced panic state, and reddens again even while he nods. "I.. You are correct, Claude. I apologize for that rather unsightly display. However - well, perhaps you understand in that my actions have a great impact, even when they would be minor and trifling things when done by any other person." To Claude's rather keen gaze and sharp ears, it rather seems as though Dimitri is exhausted when he says that. "So I thought of... what would most make it right."
Claude laughs. "Sweeping me away on my feet like a fairy tale prince, huh?"
A pause, and then Dimitri starts to laugh too, eyes shining a little bit instead of electric with panic. "I wasn't quite thinking of a fairy tale... but I was hoping that I could pamper you, to some extent."
Hoooooo boy. When Dimitri says it like that, with that boyish smile daring to appear on his lips in a way Claude doesn't think he's ever seen before, it makes his heart sure do some stupid things. This crush of his really is quite the monster.
Hastily, because he's going to melt into pudding if Dimitri says things like that and looks at him like that, Claude lets his mouth run wild as a distraction. "I mean, you could still pamper me on this date of ours," he says. "You know, if you'd like to consider it a date, with a slice of personal business as we come up with this story for the kids."
"Would that be enough?" Dimitri asks, just a hint of shyness overcoming him as he looks up from beneath those pretty pale eyelashes of his. It should be illegal to look like that, honestly. "I feel... that I grossly overstepped a line with you, Claude, and, well... You are incredible. Even if I can admit I overreacted slightly at the realization of what I'd done, well, I think anyone would be more than blessed to have you as a spouse."
"Look who the smooth talker is," Claude says, even as his heart leaps up into his throat and does something really stupid in its pounding there. If anyone actually knew what secrets he's been holding all this time... He's sure Dimitri wouldn't say that. He's sure no one would say that. And yet Dimitri looks at him so earnestly with those brilliant blue eyes that he could almost believe it. What a dangerous man. Or maybe it's Claude's heart that's the dangerous one. "Anyway, you're stressing out over it too much. If I say it's enough, it's enough." He grins. "And if it's not... You can just keep taking me out on dates until it is."
Folding his hands behind his back, Dimitri hesitates a moment. "Even if... it does turn out to be enough," he says slowly, "may I still continue to take you out on dates?"
Claude smiles, even though he feels as though he's going to keel over at the rate his heart is going. Like he said: illegal. Dangerous. "I don't think I would mind that at all," he says, resisting the urge to fidget with his hands. There's too much energy pulsing through him; he doesn't know what to do with himself. "Although do you think you'll be able to restrain yourself from leaping to marriage once again?"
It seems as though Dimitri's face hasn't de-escalated from a pretty pink throughout this whole conversation, with the only changes being how red his cheeks get at any moment. "I... I still believe that dating is - a lead up, hopefully, to marriage," Dimitri says, a little clumsily. Honestly, that kind of view is just so like him. It's kind of amusing how Dimitri is so progressive when it comes to certain other areas, and yet holds his personal life to such strict standards... "But I... understand not everyone thinks like that."
Rubbing his chin, Claude hums slightly. "Ah, yes... The bet you had with Sylvain, right?" he drawls, and laughs at the face that Dimitri makes. "A lot of people were saying that sort of thing had to absolutely be just a fake rumor, because there's no way that the uptight and upright noble prince of Faerghus would ever do something like flirt with a girl so seriously and not follow through." Slowly, Dimitri starts to cover his face with his hands, and Claude laughs, reaching up so that he can grab at those wrists and keep those pretty blue eyes in view. "Hey, hey! Was it really that embarrassing?"
"I don't know how to flirt with the intent of simply having fun and relaxing with another person," Dimitri groans, his shoulders slumping. "I thought that if I mimicked Sylvain, who does that far more often, then it would turn out in a way that would be all right..."
Claude chokes back a laugh. "Oh, you poor soul," he says. "And that poor girl. The reason Sylvain uses the lines he does is because he knows they're so serious that they work great on girls, even if he's not approaching the relationship seriously at all. Meanwhile - well, you said it yourself." Claude shakes his head. "You only approach dating seriously. Of course it was going to end up like that." He snorts, suddenly. "Are you going to use one of those lines on me, then?"
Dimitri drags a hand across his face, grimacing. "I was half inclined to never speak to another living being on the subject of romance ever again," he says sourly. "So no, I do not believe I shall. Besides, you appear to be enjoying yourself far too much, Claude. While I enjoy your smiles, I think I would much prefer them when they are not born from the laughter that leaves you at my predicament."
"Aw," Claude says, although even he has to admit that it's probably for the best if Dimitri just stays himself instead of using any of Sylvain's lines on him. He wouldn't say he's so sweethearted that he wants Dimitri to stay true to himself. Rather... if he fell apart like a blushing fairytale princess from a simple kiss on the cheek when Dimitri was so sleepy that he almost smashed his face into the doorframe to his room, Claude is pretty sure he would outright die if Dimitri used a line on him.
"Do not 'aw' me," Dimitri scolds lightly, although he doesn't seem to be particularly serious about it. "At any rate - if it is not with the intent of marriage, of finding true love, may I ask... why on earth would you want to go on a date with me, Claude? Is..." And he hesitates a moment, hand flexing a moment, fingers curling in against his palm and then relaxing, only to repeat the motion all over again. "Is this only to play around, as Sylvain does so often?"
Just the idea is enough to make Claude's heart do some sort of miserable flip, which he immediately scolds it for. That's the only kind of relationship he has time for nowadays! The only kind of relationship he can trust, as much as he can trust any kind of romantic relationship, here in Fodlan. Still, to see the concern weighing down Dimitri's brow... Ugh. He never knew he could be so weak to blue eyed prince charmings.
"It's not like that," Claude says, because he really does suspect that him and Sylvain do what they do for very different reasons. "Rather... I'm not sure about what the future might hold, so I'd rather make happier memories here in the present."
It's something approaching the truth, which Claude hopes is good enough. Dimitri certainly seems to think it over, his gaze drifting back to the pages where he scribbled down his dream about the two of them. "The future... does often seem very frightening," he admits, his gaze distant. "Wanting to put one's faith in it, and wanting to treasure the present moments... I can understand that."
"Even if it's not something you personally subscribe to yourself?" Claude asks, tilting his head to the side. Even now, he's unable to stop himself from asking questions and picking at people's brains.
Dimitri shakes his head. "Just because I cannot personally follow along with a worldview like that does not mean it is inherently a bad thing," he says. "If anything, I find it truly understandable. Yet it is one thing to understand and welcome a viewpoint different than one's own, and another thing entirely to take that viewpoint into ones self." Dimitri looks up at him suddenly. "Ah - but I would not pressure you on a date, if you permitted me to take you on one! I will be on my best behavior!"
What a guy. Claude smiles. "Dimitri, out of every single person here in the Academy... You're at the bottom of my list of Guys Who Would Pressure Me. I know that you'd never do anything like that. Just..." This feels like it's going to either be the worst decision he'll have ever made, or the best. Claude isn't sure which one yet... but he can't help but occasionally take a gamble sometimes. Not when the stakes are either so great or so terrible, split right down the middle. "Just treat me like you would normally, alright?"
There's a moment of hesitation, but then Dimitri lets loose a breath and smiles. The kind of relieved smile that steals Claude's own breath straight out of his lungs. "Of course. I will try not to get too far ahead of myself... Although, would I be permitted to treat you a little preciously?"
A little preciously. Somehow, even though the phrasing is a little silly, it makes Claude's face heat up regardless. When's the last time someone treated him preciously? "You know, I kind of thought this was meant to talk about the fairy tale that we'll tell the kids," he says lightly, and watches Dimitri's face fall. "But if you want to spoil me a little, I can't say I would mind."
Just like that, Dimitri lightens up again. "Then I will spoil you as much as you allow me," he says. "Although - of course the most important thing is coming up with a tale for the children."
"Of course," Claude says, mimicking Dimitri's hastily put together seriousness. When the blond huffs at him, all he does is grin. "At any rate, we might not have to come up with very much. I mean-" He gestures to the hastily scrawled on papers that still decorate Dimitri's desk. "Why don't we use this, with a little bit of the trappings changed up? For example, not making it so obvious that it's taking inspiration from your direct life."
Growing beet red, Dimitri hastily shakes his head from side to side. "Absolutely not," he insists, hands jerking awkwardly as though not entirely sure what movement to make or where to go. "I - it would be quite shameless to include things such as a - a kiss! To children!"
Claude snorts. "Aren't there plenty of fairytales where a kiss features?" he asks. "To break a curse, or as a symbol of love? Although you don't have to worry about that. For your virtue, that's exactly why I mentioned changing some parts around." He grins, and winks again. "I think this is the kind of thing that we can continue to discuss over the dinner that you promised me, however."
That's enough to make Dimitri realize he still has to finish getting properly dressed, and he hurries, disappearing back behind the screen. When he emerges, he doesn't look too half bad: a white shirt, over navy blue pants, an open dark teal vest, and a pair of nicely made boots to finish the whole thing off. It's all clearly nice enough that no one would mistake him as anything less than a merchant's son at the very least, but not nice enough that they'd ever think of him as actual royalty. At least, not unless they'd seen him already and been introduced beforehand.
Out in public, first on the way to the stables and then on the road when they've gotten their horses, Dimitri is a lot more hesitant to bring up what they'd talked about before. Claude would even almost call it shy, or flustered. Well, it's not as though he's unsympathetic. With the conversation the two of them have just had, well... Of course Dimitri would be off his game, and utterly bewildered as to what he can even do in this kind of situation.
So Claude picks up the weight for most of the conversation. He talks about things he's heard going on over in the Blue Lion house, although only the silly and relaxed things that don't give away what serious things he's managed to overhear. There's always Sylvain's love life to gossip about, or the absolute failure of Felix's as people approach him in the middle of training to try and ply him with gifts. It never works, of course. Felix, as far as anyone else can tell, has the true love of swords. Anyone's attempts at romancing him go straight over his head.
Certainly it seems to help. Once they're a decent way from the monastery and the academy, although not quite at the town yet, Dimitri joins in. He talks about Raphael joining him for training one day, and how admirable he found the other man. They marvel together over what sketches Ignatz has done recently, if it's really true that Lorenz will take him in as an artist knight under the Gloucester name. With their two houses combined, there's no end to the amount of gossip they have access to.
It's honestly kind of impressive, considering that Claude never would have taken Dimitri to be the gossiping sort. When he brings this up to Dimitri once they arrive in town and stable their hoses, Dimitri puts on a sort of embarrassed expression. "Well, I would be loathe to say that I gossip... I do try to stay abreast of what events happen in school, although I do my best to never forget why I have come here in the first place. After all, I will be a king, one day. But... I don't want the line between me and my classmates to be too vast."
"Oh? And what do you mean by that?"
Gently patting his horse along her long face, Dimitri sighs. "If I am to be king, then I want to be a good one," he murmurs, gaze a little distant. "And a good king is one who pays mind to those he is meant to lead." He doesn't say commoners. He doesn't say subjects. Claude isn't entirely sure if that means anything, frankly, but he stores it away in his head regardless. Just in case. "While I am here... it will be the closest I will ever be in my life to other people, since there are few in the country who would be on my level - in terms of titles, at any rate." The way he wrinkles his nose is also something Claude stores away. "If I am going to be a good ruler, than I want to grow as close to as many of them as possible. I want to hear all sides and opinions - not just those of the nobility that will be clattering for my ear."
Yeah... Claude smiles to himself, adjusting the belt around his waist. This is one of the reasons he likes Dimitri. He'd seen traces of it before, of course, little hints here and there just from watching the other man. A lot of nobles put in talk about looking out for their people, of course. It's one of those things that makes them look good, both to their fellows and to everyone else. Yet some don't care nearly as much as they might think or say, as it turns out - something he was able to pick up a lot on while he was quickly learning the ropes of the Alliance. If it was something like that in the country his mother came from, then what were the other nations truly like...?
The answer, of course, is that it is a varied and complex situation all across the board, no matter where one is. There are pathetic nobles in Faerghus just as much as there are shining beacons of leadership such as the Fraldarius family. Humans are still humans, no matter where in the world they live. Claude can't help but find some reassurance in that kind of thing, honestly...
Just as much as he's reassured at the sight of Dimitri steadily helping people across the monastery when one of his fellows needs a heavy box lifted up, or how obediently he helps with whatever chore he is given. It's encouraging to hear tales of how he buys pastries for Ashe to pay him back for a kind deed done, or how he covers up some of the nuns when it's raining in the courtyard with little mind for how he himself gets soaked.
For some people, maybe that kind of thing would be an act. But Dimitri throws himself into it far too much for it to be anything but genuine, goes through too much little nuisances and defends people like Dedue with too much passion for this to be a lie. He really is... the fairytale prince that he used to think were fake. It kind of amuses Claude, honestly.
As the two of them step away from the stable, Claude chuckles. "Well, I definitely admire how much gusto you're throwing into a position you've yet to be crowned for... But just remember the basic important stuff, since a lot can change in the time between then and now. But enough about that." Winking, Claude taps his lips with one finger. "I think if we want to blend in a little better, we should cut this particular conversation off here."
Dimitri blinks. "Oh!" he says. "Yes, of course." Even as Dimitri says that, Claude wonders just how long the other man can keep quiet and not let things slip about his royal bloodline. At least Dimitri doesn't go around boasting about it like Ferdinand or Lorenz, so that's one thing. However, well... He's far too honest. Claude supposes they'll just have to wait and see.
Fortunately, the thing about waiting and seeing is that it doesn't always mean physically waiting and seeing. They move on away from the stables outside of town, with Dimitri paying a good amount of coin to the stableboys so that their horses are guaranteed a nice and pleasant stay. Then, sticking close to one another's side, they head out into the town proper.
It's a nice place; Claude has ducked down into it before. While it may not be the largest city amongst all of the three countries which make up Fodlan, it's still a pretty sizable little town in its own right. After all, it's the town nearest to the quite famous Garreg Mach; of course a town would start there properly instead of keeping everything just within the walls of the monastery. While Garreg Mach is a rather impressive place, all things considered, it still can't hold an entire city within its walls, especially for people who don't want to devote themselves to the Goddess.
And so that leaves a whole town, all on its own, to thrive with carpenters, blacksmiths, and merchants filling up its streets. And where there are a lot of people...
The dining hall Dimitri escorts him to is a pleasant little place. It's so tucked out of the way that Claude wonders just how many times Dimitri has ducked into town on his own as well without anyone else alongside him. Claude is mostly familiar with the huge one that's near the town square, and which gets the most business as it aggressively competes against the inn just across the street. Apparently it's quite a vicious little rivalry that they have going on...
So honestly? The dining hall set along the main road into the town, tucked just out of sight, is a hell of a lot more peaceful. It's not filled to bursting like the one in the town square, although there are still quite a few tables filled up by those who have a talent for sniffing out secrets. They're allowed to choose their own seats as well, under the smiling gaze of a server picking up some dirty dishes and wooden bowls over at another table. There's no roar of conversation to sweep over them. Instead, it's just a gentle murmur, like a soft tide that rolls over one's feet.
It fits Dimitri perfectly, in Claude's opinion, as the other man guides him through until they find a table set in a corner. Very considerately, Dimitri pulls out the chair against the wall for Claude. It's the perfect position that can allow him to see the rest of the dining hall with nothing obstructing his view besides the movements of other people as they deliver food or find a table. Claude wonders if that was on purpose, knowing his need for information and to be cautious... Or maybe Dimitri would rather just put all of his attention on him without anyone else at his back.
Somehow, Claude isn't entirely sure which one is more embarrassing. Maybe 'flattering' is the better word? No... He thinks it's embarrassing, definitely.
A place like this doesn't really have a whole lot of variety, despite the pleasant atmosphere. This isn't some nobleman's kitchen, with staff who will make anything at the drop of the hat. The server who comes over to them tells them what two meals are being made that day, and they both choose something - Dimitri with a simple bear steak, and Claude goes for the hearty stew. While they wait, both with some freshly squeezed juice that the hall boasts is from Garreg Mach itself, Dimitri finally glances over at him properly.
"Were you... sincere, in that you wanted to use that foolish dream of mine as the basis for the story we will tell the children?" he asks, almost shy in a way that doesn't at all match the bold and noble crown prince persona he does his best to wear back in school. It reminds Claude just a little bit of the sleepy way Dimitri had glanced at him when he had first come forward to ask for his help in the first place, acting out a story so that Claude would agree to assist in the first place.
Really, it's terribly hard to resist that kind of thing... He never would have thought he'd ever have to protect himself against that. Claude toys with the idea of not fighting against it at all, even as he's already answering. "I'd never jerk you around over something like this," Claude promises. Other things, yes, sure. But something this innocent, this harmless... He smiles. "I really like the kids that run around and play here too, you know, and the kids that the monastery adopted. I want to do right by them, so obviously I'm not going to do something that would make them unhappy on purpose. There's some great stuff in that dreaming mind of yours - you should polish it up a little bit in writing. But, for now, we can restrict that to figuring this story out first."
Such flattery has Dimitri tilt his head down just the slightest amount, a trail of pink along his cheeks. If he wasn't trying to keep such nice posture, it'd probably be easier to hide such a sight... but that's Dimitri for you. "I doubt I would have time for such things," he says, shaking his head. A smile creeps along those terribly kissable lips of his. "But... I will keep the compliment in mind. The future is a very vast thing, after all." He looks back up, meeting Claude's gaze. "Still, you said it was too easy to connect it to me, did you not?"
"That's right, although it's not particularly surprising it came out that way." Claude grins. "It was just a dream that you apparently scribbled down as fast as you could the second you woke up. Of course your dreaming subconscious would rattle all of that out; everyone knows how much The Tragedy affected you." He drops his voice low, beneath the hum of dining hall conversation, just for extra carefulness. "A prince whose family is terribly murdered in a horrible incident, with the culprits never seeing the harsh light of justice?" Claude shakes his head; it's really such an obvious factor that, if no one knew it had been penned from the prince's hand from his own head, they'd speak ill of someone playing on a tale so 'cheaply'. "Although I will say that being haunted by ghosts helps make it stand out in that way..."
Dimitri's smile is a thin and hesitant, directed down to where his hands clasp one another on the table's surface. "I... suppose it is rather obvious," he admits, no doubt not caring for the reminder that this tale, unfortunately, has its origins in something that truly happened. Claude feels bad, for a moment. Even if The Tragedy didn't have the same impact on him as it did for the rest of Fodlan, and especially Faerghus... It's still tragic to think about. "Still, if you insist on using the story as it is, then I confess I am uncertain on how it could be - reborn, so to speak. After all, well, the quest for vengeance was something of the point - as much as a dream can have a point."
It's a good point, and Claude nods, leaning back in his chair until the front legs are off the floorboards. "Well, vengeance can be for all sorts of things. While your dream was almost certainly based off of your past, as a story, we can change it around however we want."
"Even if we do change the reason for pursuing vengeance, we will have to do so with his meeting in mind," Dimitri says, looking up. Some of the tension around his mouth is gone, replaced now by a more thoughtful scrunch between his brows. "It is because he loses his family that he ends up meeting the mysterious boy from the stars."
"Such an eye for continuity," Claude chuckles. While Dimitri goes pink, he takes a small sip of his drink. "But you're right... And if we get rid of the murder, then he doesn't have the reason to pursue vengeance. Hmmm..." He falls silent for a moment when he spots one of the servers coming over with warm food ready for both of them. Claude waits until they have everything on the table, server gone.
While they may be talking about all of this in the context of a story, he still doesn't want to drag Dimitri's already infamous tragedy out into the open for others to just spectate at, and connect to the gentleman sitting in front of him.
Twirling his spoon in his hand when they finally have some (relative) privacy again, he taps it on the edge of his bowl. "Ah!" he says. "If we can't change the murder, we can change other little details about it. For example, it doesn't have to be while they're on the road - it could have been in a town, while staying at an inn, or during a hunt... That enough would probably switch up the idea entirely. People wouldn't make an immediate connection, not like they would with your original dream."
Frankly, Claude isn't sure even as he's speaking if this is the best idea, if it's respectful enough to Dimitri's original trauma to pass muster. It worries him, if he's honest. But Dimitri doesn't flinch, doesn't grimace or frown or scowl or any other million ways he could show he doesn't really like the idea. And this is Dimitri; he's not the most subtle kind of person in the world. His heart is permanently dangling from his sleeve for the entire world to see.
No, there's just some thoughtful chewing as he considers everything. "We would have to change a few more details for it to be a little more unrecognizable," Dimitri says, and smiles with a kind of tentative eagerness. "However, I think that is a good start. Although if it is in a town, or a camp site - mm, no, perhaps I am wrong. Not much would have to change to get him to a forest, and meet the boy from the stars."
Claude grins back at him. It looks like they're getting somewhere! "Actually, about him - did you have any ideas on what you wanted to do with him?" There's a joke on the tip of his tongue, a tease about what you want to do with me. Somehow, Claude manages to refrain. He honestly... really wants this little date of theirs to go well. "I don't want to start just tossing ideas out there when it was your dream. Who knows what you were thinking that you just forgot to write down on paper?"
"Not very much, if truth must be told," Dimitri says sheepishly, ducking his head down for a moment as though he's speaking more to his food than Claude. It doesn't last long. Dimitri is too well mannered for that. "Perhaps if my dream had continued, I would have a better idea of where I wanted to go with such things, but... Well -" A blush spreads over his face, and Claude can watch him almost visibly force his eyes not to look away from him again. "I apologize, Claude, but this is all rather embarrassing to say, considering the, well, clear parallels."
A laugh hops out of him that he quickly muffles, and Claude waves with his free hand. "Ah, sorry, sorry... I didn't mean to laugh at you. I just laughed because, well, yeah, I suppose it would be, wouldn't it?" He shakes his head in dry amusement. "I've been so focused on helping hammer out your story that it really did slip past me that, well... There's a little part of me involved in it too. I have to really think about what I should say..."
When it had come to telling his part of the dream, Dimitri had seemed alright with detailing what happened to that version of himself, had run into now particular difficulties in recounting his trauma but through a fairy tale lens. Claude can't say it's that easy for himself...
Who is he supposed to describe as this starlit boy in Dimitri's dreams? Khalid from Almyra, trying to find understanding and knowledge in a place beyond the stars? Claude of Riegan, newly born and already tossed head first into political machinations that threaten to overwhelm him like the sun's light does when looked at straight on?
The boy who is both?
Ha. Definitely not that. It's a little bit too revealing, then, and Claude doesn't plan on letting slip anymore than he did when he talked about Almyran fairy tales the night he and Dimitri were in the library together. That was a gamble in its own right; he'd rather keep his cards close to his chest, now.
So he hums a little, taking in Dimitri's gaze on him, and smiles. "Listen, you already know my story," he says, even if that's something of a lie. Dimitri only knows a part of his story - the safest part of it he can tell here in Fodlan. "Tell me what you thought of and I'll see what parts of it that I can add to, or make something new. It seems there was definitely a story of some sort behind why he went down to earth, and paid attention to this one random kid out of millions of people, and why he came down for this adventure in the first place. You've proven to be a lot more imaginative than anyone else would have guessed, Your Princeliness."
It's not a particularly thought out compliment, but it makes Dimitri go a little pink with pleasure at even that praise. Claude supposes it isn't surprising, when everyone knows the Faerghus prince's lancework more than anything else. "I am honored you think so," he manages to say, before blowing gently on a spoonful of stew. "But - now, you must promise not to laugh this time, Claude von Riegan. I know you are inclined to it."
Claude flicks his finger twice over his chest. "Cross my heart," he swears. "Now come on, out with it."
"Well..." Dimitri takes a bite of his meal, letting the spoon linger in there as though that can block his words and provide a convenient excuse. Fortunately, he's too polite to try and go along with that for along, and he finally slides the spoon out with a soft sigh. "I was thinking that perhaps the reason he was so eager to embark on such a journey was that he too felt isolated."
Ha. Ah. Claude's first reaction really is to laugh, to brush off such a thing and the icy grip he feels around his heart, dismiss it all. He bites down on his tongue instead. Cross his heart and all that, right...? Besides, if he overreacts, that will just be more suspicious. So he swallows down the burst of nerves that had surged through him, and follows that up with some stew himself. "I mean, it would certainly work out well in the prince's favor," he concedes when he's finally sure he can speak without sounding like a jackass. "What made you think I would laugh at that?"
Dimitri twists his spoon in his hand. "Since I did think of him with your likeness in mind, well, I suppose I thought it might come off as rather silly," Dimitri confesses. "After all, one need only look at how well you blend and socialize so well with the Golden Deer house as a whole. Many of the people there rather like you, save for when you pointedly antagonize them."
Under his breath, Claude laughs again. At least he knows he's doing his job right if that's the impression he's leaving on Dimitri. "Are you thinking about Lorenz?"
A pause, broken only by the background chatter of the food hall and the barely noticeable tapping of his spoon against his bowl. On his face, a struggle wages between politeness and absolute distaste. "I believe whatever relationship is between you and Lorenz Gloucester is an entirely different matter," he says slowly, the exact cadence nearly the cause of Claude choking on his own stew. "I was thinking of Lysithea, as a matter of fact."
So Lorenz gets his full name used, while Lysithea only has the one. Fun little tidbit of information to know. Claude couldn't stop grinning if he wanted to. "Have you two gotten into some sort of feud when I wasn't looking?"
"It's nothing like that," Dimitri protests, doing his best to seem like he's not protesting. "Rather, we have our hands full dealing with whatever romantic drama that Sylvain's antics have dredged up. Lorenz seems-" And he stops abruptly, not wanting to say what he very obviously was going to say. "Well, his own reputation proceeds him, and that is all I will say on the matter. I understand he has a good heart, and an eagerness to help others if they look as though they were truly out of their depth, of course."
"You can say he has a bunch of terrible habits and often isn't half as charming as Sylvain pretends to be, Your Princeliness," Claude says mildly, stirring his stew around to try and find some of the thicker vegetable slices. "I may be the house leader of the Golden Deer, but I'm not going to deny facts here." Suddenly, he laughs. "Oh - I just got a great idea. I know I just said I was going to leave all the backstory to you and your own clever head, but we should include Lorenz in this somehow. Nothing obvious, just a little something to poke fun at." His eyes glitter in amusement. "Something to help you get out some of the annoyance you clearly feel towards his antics."
Honestly, he means it mostly as a joke. Something to tease Dimitri about, how he gets fussy about Lorenz because of his similarities to Sylvain except a little bit worse in the area that binds them, or maybe make him relax and not worry about him not liking someone for once.
What Dimitri actually does is pause, before he lets his spoon rest along the rim of his bowl so that he can raise one hand to his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps there is something to that," Dimitri murmurs, almost to himself, before his shoulders jerk and he looks hastily up at Claude. "Oh - I don't mean I plan on making Lorenz a villain of any sort! But, well... Perhaps that has something to do with why the Star Prince is so keen on journeying with the Snow Prince."
Another anxious thud in his chest. Claude grins. "Why, Your Princeliness, you really think I look like a prince as well? I feel rather honored."
His joking works, in this case. Dimitri coughs into his hand. "Star Duke doesn't quite sound the same," he says a little awkwardly. "At any rate, as I was saying, perhaps he is finding an excuse to venture down onto earth to... prove himself, perhaps."
Claude would love to know if the Crest of Blaiddyd happens to gift its chosen users with the ability to lowkey read other people's minds or pasts. Dimitri's idle musings keep hitting just a little too close to home for him, and he has to tell himself to calm down almost every time the prince speaks now. Besides, this works with his current life, too. Although... "I can't say I have anything in particular to prove to the Gloucester Family, if that's what you're trying to say..."
"Not quite," Dimitri says with a shake of his head. "But perhaps it works out in his favor - the Star Prince, not you. He can sate or escape people demanding something of him with a handy excuse, while doing what he really wants to do."
"And what does he really want to do?"
Dimitri glances up at him almost poutily as he blows again on his next spoonful of stew. "I believe you're rather well aware of how awkward this is for me, to create motives and personality for someone that I based off of you," he grumbles, before shoveling his food down.
It's impossibly hard to keep himself from grinning at such an obvious callout. "Hey, I'm just trying to be a polite co-author," he laughs, indulging in his food as well. At least it tastes good, providing the conversation with a pleasant and delicious background. "Besides, if it's too much like me, then I'll tell you how to steer it away so that it's a little less obvious - just like how we did for your 'Snow Prince'."
The deadpan look he's receiving from across the table says that Dimitri doesn't entirely buy this. Still, after a bit of chewing, he swallows and sighs. "Perhaps... Perhaps he wants to see the world, in a way he'd never be able to stuck where he was."
"Stuck where he was..." Claude stirs his spoon through the stew a little bit more, thoughtful. After a moment, he smiles. "You know what, I think I like that. And, not to hoist up my own flag or anything, but it makes the Star Prince sound pretty clever. He'll get to prove to the others up in the stars - something or another, I don't think you said, and he'll get to fulfill a dream of his, and he'll get to help someone he really cares about. I know the saying goes 'two birds with one stone', but I think he's hitting three out of the garden instead."
Dimitri chuckles down into what is becoming more bowl than stew. "I suppose that would appeal to you, wouldn't it?" he says, and Claude's heart pounds again - not from false alarm, but instead from the edge of fondness that underlays Dimitri's words. "Maybe we should make him an adventurer in his own right, then, don't you think?"
A grin starts to spread across Claude's face. "Going down to the earthly world where all his elders told him he wasn't supposed to go, but he kept going down, drawn by the prayers and words of the people down there, sometimes just to offer a listening ear, and other times to help a scared and straggling prince of snow get to safety. Yeah, I think I like that." He laughs again. "Although I hope that we don't get some angry parents on our tails, telling us that we're being bad influences with a protagonist like that."
"Oh, that is hardly the worst thing that has ever been in a fairy tale," Dimitri says, grinning widely himself. "I'm sure it will be fine. But you know, if the Star Prince travels about so much, then maybe he knows plenty of other people that the two of them can meet on their journey for vengeance, and they can help, or send the two on other quests."
Now isn't that an idea. Claude grins around his spoon. "Are you telling me, sir, that you want to include a fictional version of Hilda, or Sylvain, in this fairytale that we're concocting together?"
To his credit, despite his clear embarrassment spread all across his cheeks, Dimitri manages to otherwise keep himself together as he clears his throat. "I am simply saying, there is no fairytale that only includes the protagonists," he says stiffly. "Besides, children often ask questions about the other characters that inhabit the world of fairytales. It is good to have a personality or backstory in mind for even the innkeepers."
"Spoken like a true storyteller who has had exactly that experience," Claude drawls, popping his spoon out and twirling it in Dimitri's direction. "Anyway, I think we have the Star Prince figured out well enough, at least for right now. Let's go back to distinguishing the Snow Prince..."
And they do. They talk about the fictional prince for a while, long after they've cleaned their bowls out and drained their cups of drink. It gets to the point that they have to leave the dining hall, because other people could use their seats and neither of them are so self-absorbed that they would take up room they don't need.
The good news is that the town is large, thriving off of the business that the church gives it, and so there are no end of locations that the two of them can go to. In fact, their wanderings are even good for thinking about the story they're crafting together.
Browsing the market wares has them suggest a traveling merchant and his sister who the princes help defend against some bandits, and who guides them through the land like he knows the callouses on his own palm.
Looking over the books that one stall has piled high on its counter encourages Claude to suggest a mysterious recluse in the forest who might have an answer they seek.
In counter, Dimitri offers up an encounter with a pair of knights, one a bold woman and the other a kind man, who the Snow Prince has to hide his identity from. It goes on like that, listing all sorts of characters, neither of them ever admitting to any names but still knowing who the other is thinking of.
"You should talk to Hilda and Seteth, become a children's book writer," Claude says when the two of them take a break, sprawled out underneath a beautifully full tree. There are spots like this in the town, patches of green and flowers where people just take a break to relax in. That's what they're doing right now, as the setting sun paints the sky a comforting purple to yellow transition. "I bet you would be great at it - and wouldn't that be a charming bit of history for future scholars? The king who wrote children's books in his spare time."
A low, deep rumble of a laugh rolls out of Dimitri. Claude hasn't known him for long, not like some of the people in the Blue Lions house, but he can tell it's getting deeper. He can only imagine what his voice will be like in a few years time; the thought makes him shiver a little bit. "I would hardly call myself any sort of aspiring author," Dimitri says. "I was only lucky in this part, for my dreams to make the Tragedy something... distant."
Something distant... Claude thinks about how, in a more literal sense, his own home and all its troubles are so far away from him, now. "Is it helping?" he asks suddenly, and immediately wonders if maybe he's stepped over some sort of line.
From the corner of his eye, he carefully watches Dimitri - his glazed over stare, the hasty shake of his head that follows afterwards. "Perhaps it is," he says quietly. "The Snow Prince has still lived a life of tragedy, but... Ah, this will sound silly." He bends forward, elbows braced against his knees as he ruffles the back of his head. In the fading light, he looks a little more physical, somehow. "But you will listen, won't you, Claude?"
Even back in the academy, there are people who don't trust him, and even some of the people who trust him a bit still wouldn't tell him anything deep about themselves. Out of everyone there, Dimitri at least has a better reason than others to follow that same habit. Unless there is a lot of history - both familial and personal - nobles don't normally go leaking out their hearts to other nobles... not if they're smart, and in Fodlan.
One day, Dimitri will be the king of a country. One day, as far as anyone else knows, Claude will be the most powerful duke in the Leicester Alliance. Today, as they attend school together... They're the leaders of opposing houses, who will fight for glory in little practice battles that are only really practice and mean nothing in particular.
There are exceptions, of course, like the long-lasting Fraldarius tradition of being its king's shield - something that Felix seems determined to follow with how he hangs about Dimitri like a ghost for all his snarling. But then there are the things which very much aren't, like the Adrestrian Empire's current political situation. Claude isn't even from the same country as Dimitri, in more ways than one.
But he wants to listen. He wants to offer something to this tragedy weary boy that's sitting besides him, offering his heart so gently out to him. Despite everything that has ever happened to him, all the terrible things he's seen, Dimitri still wants to believe better in people. He still wants to trust, and hope, and see a happier future.
Claude wants to be that, too, and so he says, "Hey, does it look like I'm going anywhere, Your Princeliness?"
When Dimitri smiles at him for those simple and teasing words, Claude finds them worth more than gold, and glad to have traded them away for that look.
It's a good thing Dimitri looks away after that; Claude kind of needs to breathe and it's hard to do that when Dimitri smiles at him. (Which is kind of embarrassing.) While Claude lets his lungs recover, Dimitri continues to explain himself. "The Snow Prince might have had a life of tragedy, but... It is a tragedy I can control," he says slowly, thoughtfully. "He doesn't have to lose anyone else that is important to him. On a road of glass or of flowers, either at my discretion, he can find those responsible and find justice. He can go at it with other people, who will protect him and be protected in turn. When I think back on my memories, it's so close as to burn, but this..."
"It's not you," Claude say. He gets it. "There may be a lot of similarities, but it's not you. It's not a real person suffering what you suffered. Everything is up to you - right?"
"Everything is up to me," Dimitri agrees quietly. In his eyes, the sunset reflects too harshly off of them, and they seem more black than blue. Lost, looking for some sort of light that the natural world can't give him.
Claude hopes he can find it somewhere, in someone. A part of him even entertains the idea of it being himself, although he knows that's impossible. This is just... a childish infatuation, a little thing they'll both entertain while they're young before they grow up, and become the kings they want to see in the world.
Still, that doesn't mean he can and will give ntohing to the man besides him, and so what he decides to give are his words, as always. "You know, that doesn't sound silly at all." And Dimitri smiles at him again.
"I have kept you out for quite a while, haven't I, Claude?" he remarks. "I should treat you to dinner, while we are still here in town. I imagine that we won't make it in time for anything to still be warm back in the Academy's mess hall."
His cheeks are going to break apart if he keeps smiling this hard. "An attempt at bribery, all to keep this date going on longer, is that it?" he teases, and feels more pleased than he probably should when Dimitri's cheeks go a pretty pink to match the watercolor that is the sky. "Well, it's not every day you get treated by royalty-" Ha. Ha. "-so don't mind if I accept your generous offer. Should we go to the same place as last time, or one of the more popular dining halls in the town?"
Pushing himself up onto his feet, Dimitri says, "I believe if we go to any of those businesses, then there is a chance of some of our classmates encountering us," he says. "And I think... I would like to avoid the vine of gossip as much as I possibly can, for as long as I can. It really is no business of theirs."
He offers his hand to Claude, who takes it and allows himself to be hauled up onto his own two feet as if he weighs absolutely nothing. Dimitri's strength has never been any kind of secret, but it's still something else entirely to feel him be hauled around like an empty sack. "No, I get you entirely," Claude says, and winks. "Sometimes it's nice to have a secret little something just between two people, right?"
"Exactly." Shyly, tentatively, Dimitri twitches his fingers around Claude's own. In turn, Claude squeezes back, and savors the next smile he gets. This is getting dangerous; he might get addicted to Dimitri's expressions at this rate. "Then, let's see if we cannot find somewhere quieter to dine."
It takes a little bit of searching to find a place like that, as it turns out. Fortunately, Claude is a bit of a smooth talker, and he talks to some of the locals with all that smoothness. They're more than happy to point the two of them in the direction of a tiny little bakery - not quite a dining hall, but still a good place with a good family running it who do the occasional meal for anyone who asks or looks hungry enough. They're just starting to clean up when Dimitri and Claude arrive, but they're also preparing dinner for themselves... and apparently a little extra.
The sandwiches are simple, but delicious, as the two of them eat outside underneath a sky that becomes simultaneously darker and brighter. It's nothing special, on the face of it. Someone like Lorenz would be aghast at how simple it is, honestly. But for Claude...
He doesn't think anything could taste better than a simple sandwich while him and Dimitri sit so close to each other that their shoulders brush. That's the plain truth.
They talk about the latest lecture, about Dorothea's alleged and latest plan to sweep Ingrid off of her feet with noble politics be damned, about some of the strange things that are happening throughout the Academy and Church both...
"In a way, I somewhat admire the Leicester Alliance when it comes to how they deal with the Church of Seiros," Dimitri says when the two of them are on their way after finally remembering curfew is a thing that exists. Claude is pretty sure they're going to miss it, but it should be fine, if they're sneaky. Which means he'll be fine. "I think I would rather like that for Faerghus."
Folding his hands behind his head, Claude hums. That's certainly an interesting thing to hear from one Crown Prince to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. "What do you mean, exactly?" he asks, as Garreg Mach looms up ahead of them, the warmth of its lights distinguishing its dark shape from the star riddled night sky.
"I simply believe that perhaps the Church would be able to focus on much more of what is important for itself, if it did not have to concern itself with our ridiculous politics," Dimitri says, and Claude has to admire those words for a moment. Oh, sure, he's pretty sure he can see through it in an instant, but Dimitri is still being so careful in such a casual way.
That concern is absolutely just for the Church, of course. Claude never took Dimitri for a liar, but he suspects that Dimitri might have a political talent all his own of excusing his own actions with concern - no doubt some genuine, but some maybe not so much - by twisting things around on how they're good for the other party.
Because certainly the Church could focus on a lot of other issues, like bringing souls to salvation or healing the wounded or dealing with whatever fractured bullshit is going on in their own ranks, if they didn't have to fuss with the politics of countries... But at the same time, no doubt Faerghus could find its own room to breathe and grow if it didn't have the Church looming over its shoulder with its own agenda.
Claude grins wider. Dimitri really does have more hidden depths than he thinks most people in the Academy know. It makes him hopeful, excited, for the future.
"Well, the Leicester Alliance definitely had its own way of getting to where it is, and I doubt that would work entirely for Faerghus," he says casually, squinting through the darkness. Maybe he should have brought a lantern, or a torch. He's used to the neverending darkness of Almyra, but Fodlan's nights are a bit different. The terrain is a bit different. "Hey, how about we arrange a little date for another time, and I can tell you all about the history there-"
Fodlan's nights are definitely different. Not only do the trees overhead obscure some of the night sky - an orienting and guiding force otherwise - but even the moonlight can't illuminate everything along the path. Claude's foot catches a particularly large rock right there in the middle of the path, and he goes pitching forward so suddenly that he nearly bites off his own tongue. His body tenses, expecting a hard impact any second -
But there's only hands at his shoulders, around his waist, and there he goes again - lifted up so effortlessly in a way that gets his stupid little heart fluttering. "Claude!" Dimitri exclaims quietly, his chest pressing against his arm. At Claude's waist, his hand seems to burn its place there. "Are you all right?"
Claude whistles out a breath, and then grins at Dimitri. While the sunset had made him seem solid, moonlight has the opposite effect. His hands are right there all over Claude's body, and yet the light makes his pale hair and skin almost translucent. Like this... "You know, when you look so dashing like this, Your Princeliness, I can see why the character in the story is called the Snow Prince." Surely he must look exactly like this, like that particular pale blue which he imagines must be so commonplace up in Faerghus.
The illusion is ruined a little bit by the deep pink that dusts Dimitri's cheeks, making them all the more darker in the nighttime, but Claude can't say he minds. "I supposes that answers that question," he huffs, removing himself slightly from Claude's side. It's a disappointment, but not much of one when Dimitri takes Claude by the hand. "Now come on, we are quite late as it is."
They're not so late as to be particularly bothered by the latest guard who's just been put on shift at the gates, apparently, who only nods at them as they pass. Claude finds that to be a bit of good luck; fresh faced guards are always in a better mood than the ones who've been waiting around for ages with nothing else to do. It's easier to hide their joined hands when they pass by him, too, the darkness an added bonus in this kind of situation.
Garreg Mach's grounds are quiet and mostly empty as they make their way through the halls. No doubt the two of them could make it all the way to their rooms with no trouble... But Dimitri pauses in a little shadowy corridor where the moonlight just barely manages to filter in, and turns to face Claude. "I want to let you know that I truly did have a lovely night with you," he says quietly, voice nothing more than a breeze in such empty corridors. "I enjoyed crafting the story with you, and having dinner later on. I imagine you must have been teasing to some degree when you first mentioned it, but... I hope you were not completely joking when you mentioned a second date."
Oh. Claude doesn't really get nervous. Or, if he gets nervous, he likes to think it's for things with appropriately high stakes, and he charges through anyway. Yet just a few words from Dimitri, and his ridiculous heart is making all sorts of strange motions in his chest. Still, he does the same thing he does every time he feels nervous. Charge through. "Well, I suppose we could say I was only joking as much as you wanted me to be," he murmurs. "What do you think about that, Your Princeliness?"
Dimitri's eyes almost seem to glow in the darkness, so blue that they sink right down into the very cracks of him. The force of his earnestness is truly a dangerous thing; Claude rather likes it. "I think," Dimitri says slowly, his thumb rubbing circles along Claude's hand, "that I would rather like not only a second date, but to make up for how improperly I did things."
Claude is just about to say that none of this has been improper, that Dimitri is getting too hung up on court propriety again, that he's had a great night...
And then Dimitri sweeps down into a low bow with Claude's hand still in his, and presses a sweet kiss to the back of his fingers.
Claude's heart doesn't stop, exactly, but he certainly forgets it exists as he stares down at Dimitri with wide eyes and hot cheeks. No one has ever bothered to treat him so preciously like this. No one has ever even thought about it, he's sure. But for Dimitri to insist that he do things right for him, that he wants to see him again, is... is...
"I believe it is rather past curfew," Seteth says dryly, and Claude nearly has a god damn heart attack.
Certainly his heart makes something of a concentrated effort to leap out of his chest, taking his whole body with it as Claude jumps straight up in the air. Across from him, Dimitri lets go of his hand like he's been burned - probably as much out of embarrassment as to not destroy his hand with a startled grip. "Cichol's balls!" Claude curses - a bad thing to say in front of a holy man, he knows that much even before Seteth's eyebrow twitches. Still, what else is he supposed to say? "Seteth, do you really have to do that!?"
"Seteth, I am so sorry," Dimitri says, so hasty that Claude suspects he hadn't even heard what Claude said. "The trip back up from town took longer than expected, but I will ensure that I never make such a mistake ever again!"
Moving his dry gaze away from Claude, Seteth moves one hand from behind his back in order to make a small calming motion in Dimitri's direction. "I understand, Dimitri," he says, using a much more mild tone than he does with Claude. "You don't normally do such things."
"Wow," Claude says, laughter rolling along the edge of his words. "Why don't you ever reassure me like that, Seteth? Is this favoritism that I'm listening to right now?"
Seteth briefly closes his eyes, no doubt asking the Goddess why he hasn't gotten a pay raise yet. "What you are listening to is the consequences of your constant snooping into business that is none of yours, Claude," Seteth reminds him sternly, yet still with a commendable amount of patience. Before Claude can point out that he could be much worse, that he could be Hanneman, Seteth continues. "Still, while it is understandable, you are both still out past curfew. I will escort you to your rooms."
Claude is pretty sure that Seteth is just ensuring that neither of them pulls a Sylvain and makes out underneath the statue of a saint or something, as a matter of fact. Still, there's no point in arguing. With both of them still pretty red faced, they make sure to stay separated, and trail after Seteth like a pair of naughty school children.
In the back of his head, Claude makes a note to keep better track of the time... or at least figure out just how on earth Seteth really does seem to have a built in sense dedicated strictly to cockblocking romantic couples. It's honestly rather impressive.
Besides him, Dimitri seems to be thinking of entirely different things. His expression shifts from embarrassment to outright shame as something clicks in his head, and he hastens his steps a little bit so that he can whisper up at Seteth. "I swear on my name that we were not going to get up to anything inappropriate, sir," he says hastily, having no doubt made the Sylvain connection in his head just now. "I would not tarnish the Academy's name."
"I know," Seteth says patiently as the two of them troop up the stairs to the dorms. "I am not you of anything."
"Yeah, he's accusing me of everything," Claude pipes up with a smile, folding his hands behind his head. The back of his fingers still burn from Dimitri's lips.
Dimitri glances back at him with a small huff. "We have been together this entire time," he points out. "If you are a troublemaker this night, then so am I."
"Aw," Claude says, maybe a little exaggerated just to hide how warm and fuzzy that makes him feel. Truly a menace, that Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. "Maybe I ought to take you with me every night, then, Dimitri. We can see how well that excuse works on Seteth during other nights, too."
"I would rather you not," Seteth says dryly. "Now, I believe we have reached your rooms, you two." And he's right. Right before them lays the stretch of hallway Claude has come to know quite well, lights still peering out from beneath a couple of doorways. No one of importance or who would peer out to see who's been caught by Seteth, hopefully.
With their destination reached, Dimitri turns towards both Seteth and Claude in order to bow. "I will bid both of you good night, then," he says, and maybe he's a little more stiff than he was before, and maybe his gaze flicks from Claude to Seteth in something of a dead giveaway for how much he's holding himself back.
Well, it is pretty understandable to act like that, honestly. They probably shouldn't tease Seteth, especially a Prince Charming like Dimitri. At the same time... Claude doesn't want this to be how their night ends. And maybe, just maybe, he can get back at Dimitri a little bit for that first night, when they both came back from the library.
So he steps forward to grab Dimitri's hand again. "Good night to you too, Dimitri," he says, winking, and then he pulls Dimitri's unresisting hand up to peck a kiss to his palm, too. He lingers just enough to see Dimitri's eyes go starstruck and his cheeks heat up again before he whirls around, absconding into his room once more. When he falls back onto his bed, he has to smother his smile against his pillow.
There. Now Dimitri gets to be the one haunted by thoughts of a kiss this time.
For example, his personal projects. One thing he's been working on lately has been poison development, of course. He has a particular interest in a certain innocuous plant, wanting to make it something he can use with no one the wiser. Getting it to be functional has been surprisingly tricky, however, or at least for what he wants it to do.
He could talk for hours about the nitty gritty, but he supposes the simplest way to describe the issue, or at least one of many, is that it seems to lose some of its effect when incorporated into food.
Additionally, Claude knows he has to keep up with his bow training. Oh, sure, he jokes and brushes it off whenever anyone asks him about it upfront... but Claude knows that these aren't the kind of things that can be tossed aside so carelessly. Marital skill is something he has to have, when he returns to Almyra, and now, while he studies here in Fodlan, the place where the other half of his blood originates. Getting caught unprepared is one of the worst things in the world; he knows this from experience. So practicing his bowmanship is vital.
And that's not even talking about all the research and nosing about he's been doing in regards to Garreg Mach, and the preparations for the battle at Gronder Field, and, oh yeah, he guesses he should probably remember to put in some studying for the actual classes that he's taking...
So, honestly, it's probably kind of silly that he's agreed to yet one more project. At the rate he's going, sooner or later someone is going to see through his relaxed guise, and realize there's a lot more to him than he shows... and some particularly intelligent people, like Hubert, already know that he's pretty clever about things. He'd like to have at least a little bit of an edge to him, another trick and card up his sleeve.
Claude can't help it. He thinks about the circumstances that surrounded him making the suggestion in the first place, about how Dimitri had approached him so sincerely so that he could give a few kids some happiness in the difficult existence of living, how he had lit up when Claude had agreed to exchanging stories or making something up just for them.
Also, okay, fine, maybe he was done in by the kiss that Dimitri pressed upon his cheek before they'd parted ways that night.
Moving some of his many books out of his dresser so that he can find the least flashy things to wear, Claude whistles out a sigh. He shouldn't get his hopes up. He knows that. He likes Dimitri - he's liked Dimitri for a while now, he's pretty sure.
There's no helping it; Dimitri is a rather likeable guy. While he may be a bit stiff, there's no denying how earnest he is, or how much he wants to help other people. He's sweet, and, frankly, it's kind of surprising to Claude just how well he's managed to do despite the Tragedy having such an impact on his life.
But he's the proper prince of a nation, and, as far as anyone else knows, Claude is the eventual heir to the Riegan name. No doubt Dimitri won't even look at him seriously. Claude tells himself that as he tosses aside replacement uniform after replacement uniform. That kiss had clearly just been - a mistake, done by a really sleepy Dimitri who hadn't even realized what he was doing. Hell, he doesn't even remember it.
Yet he made a promise, and, well, Claude isn't afraid to be a liar. Being a liar is sometimes the best thing TO be, frankly speaking. Yet there's no reason to lie about some reason to not help Dimitri with the stories he wants to help tell to the kids down in town. It'd be like kicking a puppy and, frankly, Claude can't think of any reason or excuse that would warrant something like that.
Besides... He needs a break now and then, despite what people think about him - that impression of him being some relaxed jokester. Hanging around with Dimitri and coming up with stories to tell to the kids down in town... It'll be fun.
Even if, the entire time, he'll be trying very hard not to think about how him and Dimitri, down in a tavern together, is kind of like a date.
In a school where a substantial portion of the student body are from noble lineages, Claude knows it's not too unusual for a lot of the students to have much fancier styles of clothing for when they go out for leisure. He's seen it plenty of times over in the Black Eagle house, and a few times over in the Blue Lion house, although Dimitri seems much less inclined to those sorts of things himself despite being house leader and the crown prince. Mostly, much like with Felix, he's only seen him change into riding and training gear.
Claude is quite glad to say that he's also not the type of person who likes to go around flaunting the kind of expensive clothing that's expected of him as a noble. Oh, sure, he still has a couple of outfits, just in case - they can be just as important as any weapon or poison after all. But for the most part... He prefers things which are considerably less flashy, and that let him blend in a little more with people who haven't inherited massive amounts of wealth.
In particular, that lets him blend in with all the people from Fodlan. That too is a lesson he's had to learn - that standing out too much, that looking too obviously out of place, is the kind of thing that can get him hurt.
So in the end, he pulls out a plain shirt and pants, and favors a pair of well worn riding boots. They don't look particularly amazing, but they've done him well enough on horse and wyvernback both.
While his uniform cloak is the brilliant yellow that signifies him as the current head of the Golden Deer house, Claude pulls out instead a simple green one that he rather likes. Nothing fancy, nothing too brilliant... but it suits him well enough. Along with a set of bow and arrows just in case they run into anything out on the road into town, even though the area around Garreg Mach is calm, Claude feels pretty set.
The same can't be said for Dimitri, and he's amused when he steps out of his room only to almost run into him - still clad in his school uniform, coming from the direction of the stairs. "Ah- " Dimitri stumbles to a halt, hands already held up to stop the door so that he doesn't go crashing through it. "I'm sorry, Claude! For, well, multiple things, as of right now. Obviously I apologize for almost running into you-"
"-And I bet you apologize for not being ready for our outing into town, huh?" Claude finishes, chuckling. Dimitri is the most open book, after all. "Don't worry about it. Let me guess, Teach asked you for a favor, huh?"
Effectively called out, Dimitri takes a step away from the door and folds his hands behind his back. "You have me so well understood that I half wonder if you were there watching when the request was made," he says, as Claude shuts and locks his room door. "I was simply helping with some greenhouse chores. Dedue takes incredible care of the place, of course, but he is only one man... The people from the church needed some more assistance from myself and the Professor." There's a pause, where Dimitri is clearly debating on saying something else, before he shakes his head. "At any rate... I will hurry and quickly change into more appropriate clothing, post-haste."
"No worries." Adjusting the cloak he's carrying, Claude hums. "I can just wait outside here in the hall, or maybe down by the stables. It's no big deal."
Of course, even if that's what he says, Dimitri's look of regret says it won't be that easy. "No, I couldn't have you simply stand about aimlessly, or prepare the horses all on your own. Please, step into my room. There's a chair at my desk that you can sit at. I won't take long in changing my clothing."
Well... He'd be a liar if he said that he wasn't interested. What is he supposed to say here? No? Absolutely not. It's not every day that he gets a chance to peer inside his fellow house leaders' rooms... Although he suppose he can't say he's surprised that Dimitri is the one he gets a chance at. Even disregarding the fact that her room is in the girls' area of the dorms, Claude is pretty sure that Hubert would kill anyone who even thought about going into Edelgard's room, even if she actively gave permission.
That's how Claude finds himself sinking down into the chair of a tidily organized desk, and he glances around with a small whistle. "Wow... This is exactly what I would expect from you, Your Princeliness. It really is a nicely kept room. Are you looking to impress someone?"
"Teasing just like always, are you?" Dimitri says with a shake of his head, undoing the cape attached to his uniform and draping it over the pull out screen that's near to his own drawers. "I'll have you know that I always strive to make this sort of environment clean, just for my own sake more than anything else. Well..." As he steps behind the screen, his awkward silence is just a little unavoidable. "There is another reason, but it sounds rather self-important."
It's going to take a few minutes, at the very least, for Dimitri to get dressed, even if his outfit does end up a lot more simple than his school uniform. Claude is more than happy to start snooping around in the meanwhile, taking in the military neat bed that's been done up for the morning, and the lances that have been carefully propped up in one corner. Who does he think will attack him while he's in his own room? "You know, some people would say it's fine if a future king is a little self important."
"That's exactly what I'm trying to avoid." Dimitri sighs, and Claude smiles a bit. "You see, I... Well, I would rather not cause too much trouble to the workers of the castle, back home, with the state of my room. Staying tidy of my own volition is important for when I am living here as a student, of course, and it will be important when I am traveling with everyone dealing with their own circumstances... but when I am accepted as the king of Faerghus, well, I don't want to cause trouble for those working around me."
How so typically Dimitri - the kind of guy who seems so delighted every time he and Annette can go on a walk together, smiles on their faces as they exchange conversation, or how aggressively protective he gets around Dedue as they attend the academy, or how rumor has it that he tried to spoil Ashe with sweets from down in town to the point it made the young man go as red as Sylvain's hair.
Idly, Claude wonders if Dimitri had done it in some adorable attempt at flirting. Ashe is a nice guy, sweet and earnest and capable of picking locks. Claude would be lying if he said all of that wasn't attractive to him, even if not enough for him to ever think about making a move.
Chuckling, Claude loops back around to Dimitri's desk. Behind the screen, he can hear the light clank of metal against metal as Dimitri removes the gauntlets he favors. "You're one of the few nobles who fusses so much about the state of his room because he's fussing about the working conditions of the people he pays to clean up after him."
There's a beat of silence where Claude suspects Dimitri is shaking his head before he remembers that he's hidden behind a screen. "They aren't paid to clean up after me," Dimitri insists, and there's the light thump of his gauntlets being placed down upon something - probably a side table or such. "They are paid to keep the castle in a good condition. There is no need for any sloppiness on my part when they all have so much that they need to do in the first place."
Such a good guy... It's enough to make Claude almost feel a little bad as he starts to snoop around on his desk, although he's not finding anything particularly revealing. There look to be a couple of letters saved from Duke Fraldarius that are mostly just checking in on Dimitri, along with some books checked out from the library in regards to the latest lecture that Shamir gave on tactics.
"With thinking like that, you might end up as a rather popular king, Your Princeliness," he says idly, not reading too deeply into those letters. He'll accept who they're from, but, well, anything else would feel a little too nosy for even him right now. At least, for no reason, anyway.
"I can only hope that I will do well by everyone in Faerghus, regardless of how popular I am." Another light metallic clunk - must be his boots next. "There are enemies out there that would still seek to do us harm, after all..."
For now, he starts to flick through Dimitri's homework, having failed to find anything really engaging. He really shouldn't be surprised, Claude supposes. Dimitri is always such an open book, even when it comes to things he doesn't like or that he'd rather not go into detail about... There's nothing enlightening here. As he goes through papers, he decides to bring up things outright. "You haven't been attending any of Hanneman's lectures, right, Dimitri?"
"Hm?" There's the sound of cloth rustling, and being set to the side. Even something like this is still easy to hear. Dimitri isn't subtle at all... One of his charm points. "Oh, no. I'm afraid that magic rather escapes me, whether of the martial variety or healing. I suppose that must make me come off as not particularly intelligent..."
Claude clicks his tongue. "Hey now. What's with the sudden surge of no confidence? You would be one of the first people to tell anyone that they're talented and smart, if they were feeling down on themselves. Everyone has their talents, and can help out in different ways. There's no one kind of intelligence, et cetera, et cetera."
"Have you been eavesdropping on some of my conversations, Claude?" Rather than annoyed, however, Dimitri only sounds amused. "Still, you are right there.... I suppose it is something that is easier to say when spoken to others instead of to one's self."
"We have a clearer view of other people than we do ourselves, to be fair." Claude chuckles. "Anyway, I asked because I was wondering if I could ask for your input on something he'd said... Or go looking through your papers, either way. What about the class that the teach gave? I saw you writing some notes on the tactics that they were talking about."
There's a light bump of some random body part or another smacking into a wall or a bit of furniture, a quiet hiss on Dimitri's end, and then the prince focuses back on the conversation once more. "Oh, if you would find my notes useful, then by all means - although they won't help a strategist like you very much, I imagine. After all, you're quite clever, Claude - possibly one of the most clever people in the school."
Maybe because he's still thinking about that kiss from a few days ago, Claude feels his stupid and silly little heart flutter almost right out of his chest. Hastily, in a purely metaphorical sense, he bats it back down again, and takes a breath. There are more important things to think about, and he lightly turns the parchment he's looking at to the side as he continues on.
"Now what makes you think I'm so clever, Your Princeliness? All I like to do is stay out of trouble." There's a snort from behind the screen, and Claude has to laugh as well. "Okay, so I like to stay out of fights or injury, even if not necessarily trouble..."
"I was about to say," Dimitri chuckles, the sound of his clothing dropping into something - probably a washing bin or such.
"Anyway," Claude continues, "it's fine, I think, if I were to learn something from your notes. We both mentioned it literally just a few seconds ago, didn't we? That there are different kinds of intelligence? Even if I'm clever, your way of thinking and my way of thinking are both two entirely different kinds of things. Heck, even a clever person might forget that there's nothing wrong with good ol' basic charging through, for certain occasions..."
A drawer slides out, no doubt to retrieve more casual clothing. Claude wonders what that will look like on Dimitri. "Have you been speaking with Felix?" Dimitri asks him. "He says the same thing when I try to do tactics... that I'm the kind of person who only knows frontal assaults, and things like that..."
"You know, there's a saying that the kind of tactics we use reflects on our personalities," Claude comments, pausing as he turns the next page. Now this doesn't look like homework... Or notes. It's sloppily written, clearly hasty, and some of the words don't even form proper sentences. Most of them don't, honestly. "So I'm not surprised that someone as honest as you prefers the more upfront fights... Although..."
Claude is generally pretty good at multitasking, when it comes to reading and doing literally anything else while he's reading. It's part of why reading has become such a problem in his life that books are absolutely filling up more space in his room than anything else he might have. That goes from clothes to just somewhere to go to sleep. However, as he tries to decipher the meaning behind what he's reading... It's a little difficult to stay completely focused on two things at once.
He only snaps out of it when Dimitri prods at him - not literally, simply his voice rising past the screen after a few seconds. "Although what, Claude?"
What was he saying? Oh, right. Claude lets loose a soft laugh. "Sorry, I was reading through your notes. Anyway, it's not a surprise that an honest guy like you prefers honest tactics, but it's for that exact reason that you really should work on things a little more.... hmmm... roundabout, I'd say. A little sneaky. After all, if it were me, that's what I'd definitely use against you."
"Oh? Does that mean you're giving away some of the tactics you're going to use for Gronder Field, Claude?"
He laughs again - a little louder, a lot more amused. "Hey, you didn't even agree to slide me some of the secrets that you'll use on your end! Don't try to cheat me, Your Princeliness! Besides, even if I say that they're sneaky tactics I'll be using, it's not like that will tell you exactly what kind of sneaky tactics they are. Once you start caring less about honor, an entirely different world opens to you."
Almost as different as these notes he's reading... It feels like quite a revealing tale, honestly, even with what little he can gleam from the disjointed sentences and ideas that have been scrawled there. A tale that any person could connect to Dimitri's own life story, the tragedy that not a single soul in all of Fodlan doesn't know. Still, despite the fact that Claude can see the clear and obvious connection, that doesn't take away from the rather poetic flow of words - like shattered pieces of a mirror held up by string to shine in sunlight.
"Hey, you know how we're supposed to come up with stories for the kids down in town?" he says, because, hey, it's certainly relevant to what's going on right now.
"Yes?" Dimitri asks, voice just a little bit muffled as he no doubt slides a shirt over his head.
"Well, these notes you wrote down seem like they could be pretty good," Claude mentions, although his brain is turning over a couple of descriptions that are in this. The story being about Dimitri's own trauma and a need for justice is one thing, but that kid from the stars... He squints, forces himself to untangle the messy writing. Green eyes, a braid - Nah. Except... The description is too close to home-
There's the light bump of an elbow hitting the wall. "Notes?" Dimitri echoes, before he suddenly trips out from behind the screen with a look of panic stretched across his face. He's mostly dressed, now, although his shirt isn't entirely done up or tucked into his pants. Claude barely has a chance to notice that, not with how Dimitri nearly flings himself forward so that he can press his palms across the paper desperately. "Ah-! These are- not for reading!" he says hastily, face having gone a burning red brighter than any of the tomatoes growing in the greenhouse. "How far did you get!?"
That's just a normal embarrassed reaction. Claude tries to tell himself that, so that his pounding heart will maybe calm down a little. It's just the normal embarrassed reaction of a guy who wrote something private, and didn't mean for anyone else to see. Just that. Not because the other main character in the notes had curly brown hair, or a braid which framed one side of his face, or green eyes. That's just a coincidence. Right?
Just a coincidence. And yet Claude thinks of the last word that had been scribbled right near the bottom, a simple kiss? with a question mark, and makes himself say, "Sorry, but I managed to read the whole thing."
It's not a lie, either, although Claude would quite possibly have said that too just to see and gauge Dimitri's reaction. Claude is simply a fast reader, and always had to be. He'd had to steal time back home, with his siblings not content to leave him be more often than not, and then quicker still when it came to stealing information for himself. Now it's just a habit he can't break no matter what.
That burning red on Dimitri's face almost deepens somehow, and the blond straightens up, free hand going up to his mouth. Something about that bashful expression sends something electric up Claude's spine - he wants to see that look on Dimitri's face all the time now.
"I... apologize greatly," he forces himself to say, not meeting Claude's gaze. "I should have thrown out that entire thing immediately after I had written it. However, well - all of it came to me as I lay dreaming, and it was so clear to my mind when I awoke that it somehow felt imperative I put ink to paper. That's no excuse..."
Claude swallows, hard. That... is a pretty good confirmation just what he's been trying to deny this whole time. A part of him wants to make absolutely sure, ask and get that answer right there in the open... but what good would that do? Wouldn't it just make Dimitri a lot more miserable, having to spell it out like that? He's so honest that he wouldn't even take it as a chance to lie.... And thinking about forcing Dimitri to do something miserable like that...
"Hey, you don't have to apologize," he manages after a moment, taking advantage of the way Dimitri isn't looking at him to get his composure back. He'd been sure to firmly temper his expectations after being let down so harshly before - when Dimitri had kissed his cheek, and then apparently promptly forgot it the next morning. So this... really is the most unexpected uppercut. How unfair, Your Princeliness.. "Besides, I was the one who was looking through your notes, right?" Since he'd been snooping in them even before he'd gotten permission...
Dimitri shakes his head, because of course he would protest. "I should have taken it into consideration that there was a chance they could still end up in view of another person," he says, sounding distinctly miserable underneath the stern tone he's trying to take to himself more than to Claude. "What if I accidentally carried them into class one day, and someone else flipped through them by accident, much like you did just now? That would cause so much trouble for you... I cannot apologize enough for my carelessness."
Hoo boy. Maybe he should have expected this from the start. "It's fine," Claude says, trying to come off as relaxed and not entirely sure if he's managing as well as he would like. "I mean, it didn't happen, so all's well that ends well." Sure. That's one way to put it.
At least him appearing to keep his cool is having exactly the kind of effect he wants on the conversation. Dimitri finally glances back to him. His brows are drawn together tightly and his bottom lip sucked in before Dimitri gets a handle on himself once again. "I simply... do not want you to think that I think of you disrespectfully, Claude."
Out of everyone he has ever known, Claude suspects that Dimitri is the only person who would ever describe a crush on another person as disrespect. "You know, someone people might have the opposite to say if they learned that the crown prince of Faerghus was dreaming about them," he says idly. His stupid heart refuses to settle down. Is there a way to remove one's heart, and still keep going on? He's asking for a friend. "For example, an honor or romantic."
Dimitri looks away again, something clearly on the tip of his tongue that he doesn't dare give any voice or weight to. It takes him a second to speak up again. "I understand that many have such a high view of myself," he admits. "However... Claude, while you may be correct in that other people would say such things, you did not say what you felt on the matter."
...Ah. This is what he gets for being too subtle and roundabout.
While Claude is realizing his mistake, Dimitri keeps going. "I understand that any feelings between the two of us would only lead to various problems - things that I am certain you would not want to deal with. As the only heir to the Riegan name, of course it would be reckless to pursue this kind of relationship... I know you must have a lot of familial struggles that you have to bear in mind, just as any of us with a legacy to step up to. That would be even entertaining a relationship between us in the first place, which is-" And he pauses, as though suddenly aware of his own words.
Now, see... Claude can't say he likes that very much, the implications in the empty space where Dimitri cut himself off. Stepping away from the desk, he moves around the one thing between them - a simple wooden chair - and steps closer to Dimitri. "You know, you were right in that I hadn't said what I felt on learning that you had a dream about me," he says, watching Dimitri's shoulders jerk with an attentive eye. Good - the more he can keep Dimitri surprised, the more of the other man's attention he has on him. "So let me have a chance to speak, instead of deciding how things absolutely must be ahead of time."
Dimitri blinks blankly at him for a moment, mind catching up to the conversation at hand, before he jerks his head in a quick nod. "I... Of course. Then... What are your thoughts?"
Shit. He's going to have to be actually upfront and honest here. It's not the worst thing in the world, but Claude usually likes preparing for moments like this. Still, he won't back down now. Looking up at Dimitri, Claude draws a smile back onto his own lips. "First of all, back when you first approached me the other morning, I thought you were going to ask me out on a date in the first place, you know."
Shoulders jerking straight, Dimitri boggles at him. This entire conversation has been throwing him for a loop, apparently. "Wh- you did? Why?"
This wasn't how Claude planned to bring that night up - as a matter of fact, he'd planned to never mention it at all. Still, Dimitri doesn't have to know that. "Well, to start with," Claude says idly, reaching up to tap at his cheek, "You did kiss me right here, on the night that you sought me out in the library."
He can almost hear Dimitri's brain crashing. Honestly, even with the situation being what it is, Claude can't help but smile a little bit as he watches Dimitri's mental capacity nose dive faster than a drunk wyvern. So maybe it's only fair that the table gets turned around on him as Dimitri looks back up at him with those bright blue eyes and says breathlessly, "So we must be wed."
This time, it's his own brain that Claude can hear shattering into a million pieces. "What," he croaks, barely able to get that single word out.
Now that he's gotten the words out of him, that stirs up some really weird life in Dimitri, and he straightens up with his hands clenched before him. "Of course, I should have done this from the very start after I behaved in so scurrilous a manner," he says, faster than his normally careful and polite speed. "It will be difficult to deal with matters regarding my claim to the crown and how you are the only individual who can inherit the Riegan name, but I am positive that, with some effort-"
"Dimitri-"
"Would I be the one to have the dowry?" Dimitri asks, although he seems to be talking to himself more than he's talking to Claude. "This isn't something that is normally approved of, when it comes to royal weddings, but you would not have to worry, Claude, I would let no one say a word to you. No, I would make myself quite clear on the matter-"
"Dimitri," Claude tries again, although he already knows he's not going to get through like this. But, it's just - the idea of getting married, to Dimitri, to this fairy tale prince of a man with those earnest blue eyes and that golden hair who would blush as he'd slide the ring onto Claude's finger-
Oh no, now it's starting to infect him, too.
Oblivious to Claude's own mental brain fritzing, Dimitri takes a breath. "Of course, even ignoring proposals and dowries, the wedding itself is the most important thing," he continues. "I will have to do careful research into the wedding customs in the Alliance. Back in Fhirdiad, I know for a fact that my parents still have their wedding garb held locked away carefully. If it would not be too much trouble, Claude, if you would not mind to wear something of theirs... For tradition, of course, although it would only be fair if you would want me to participate in something from your side of the family-"
Claude smacks his hands together right in front of Dimitri's face. "Hey," he says mildly, while Dimitri stares at him once again. "I think we both need to calm down and take a big breath, Your Princeliness. You're acting like you popped my cherry, instead of simply kissing me on the cheek. We don't have to leap right to marriage. But," he continues on, when he sees Dimitri droop ever so slightly at the 'rejection', "dating is another matter entirely."
Slowly, Dimitri comes out of his self-induced panic state, and reddens again even while he nods. "I.. You are correct, Claude. I apologize for that rather unsightly display. However - well, perhaps you understand in that my actions have a great impact, even when they would be minor and trifling things when done by any other person." To Claude's rather keen gaze and sharp ears, it rather seems as though Dimitri is exhausted when he says that. "So I thought of... what would most make it right."
Claude laughs. "Sweeping me away on my feet like a fairy tale prince, huh?"
A pause, and then Dimitri starts to laugh too, eyes shining a little bit instead of electric with panic. "I wasn't quite thinking of a fairy tale... but I was hoping that I could pamper you, to some extent."
Hoooooo boy. When Dimitri says it like that, with that boyish smile daring to appear on his lips in a way Claude doesn't think he's ever seen before, it makes his heart sure do some stupid things. This crush of his really is quite the monster.
Hastily, because he's going to melt into pudding if Dimitri says things like that and looks at him like that, Claude lets his mouth run wild as a distraction. "I mean, you could still pamper me on this date of ours," he says. "You know, if you'd like to consider it a date, with a slice of personal business as we come up with this story for the kids."
"Would that be enough?" Dimitri asks, just a hint of shyness overcoming him as he looks up from beneath those pretty pale eyelashes of his. It should be illegal to look like that, honestly. "I feel... that I grossly overstepped a line with you, Claude, and, well... You are incredible. Even if I can admit I overreacted slightly at the realization of what I'd done, well, I think anyone would be more than blessed to have you as a spouse."
"Look who the smooth talker is," Claude says, even as his heart leaps up into his throat and does something really stupid in its pounding there. If anyone actually knew what secrets he's been holding all this time... He's sure Dimitri wouldn't say that. He's sure no one would say that. And yet Dimitri looks at him so earnestly with those brilliant blue eyes that he could almost believe it. What a dangerous man. Or maybe it's Claude's heart that's the dangerous one. "Anyway, you're stressing out over it too much. If I say it's enough, it's enough." He grins. "And if it's not... You can just keep taking me out on dates until it is."
Folding his hands behind his back, Dimitri hesitates a moment. "Even if... it does turn out to be enough," he says slowly, "may I still continue to take you out on dates?"
Claude smiles, even though he feels as though he's going to keel over at the rate his heart is going. Like he said: illegal. Dangerous. "I don't think I would mind that at all," he says, resisting the urge to fidget with his hands. There's too much energy pulsing through him; he doesn't know what to do with himself. "Although do you think you'll be able to restrain yourself from leaping to marriage once again?"
It seems as though Dimitri's face hasn't de-escalated from a pretty pink throughout this whole conversation, with the only changes being how red his cheeks get at any moment. "I... I still believe that dating is - a lead up, hopefully, to marriage," Dimitri says, a little clumsily. Honestly, that kind of view is just so like him. It's kind of amusing how Dimitri is so progressive when it comes to certain other areas, and yet holds his personal life to such strict standards... "But I... understand not everyone thinks like that."
Rubbing his chin, Claude hums slightly. "Ah, yes... The bet you had with Sylvain, right?" he drawls, and laughs at the face that Dimitri makes. "A lot of people were saying that sort of thing had to absolutely be just a fake rumor, because there's no way that the uptight and upright noble prince of Faerghus would ever do something like flirt with a girl so seriously and not follow through." Slowly, Dimitri starts to cover his face with his hands, and Claude laughs, reaching up so that he can grab at those wrists and keep those pretty blue eyes in view. "Hey, hey! Was it really that embarrassing?"
"I don't know how to flirt with the intent of simply having fun and relaxing with another person," Dimitri groans, his shoulders slumping. "I thought that if I mimicked Sylvain, who does that far more often, then it would turn out in a way that would be all right..."
Claude chokes back a laugh. "Oh, you poor soul," he says. "And that poor girl. The reason Sylvain uses the lines he does is because he knows they're so serious that they work great on girls, even if he's not approaching the relationship seriously at all. Meanwhile - well, you said it yourself." Claude shakes his head. "You only approach dating seriously. Of course it was going to end up like that." He snorts, suddenly. "Are you going to use one of those lines on me, then?"
Dimitri drags a hand across his face, grimacing. "I was half inclined to never speak to another living being on the subject of romance ever again," he says sourly. "So no, I do not believe I shall. Besides, you appear to be enjoying yourself far too much, Claude. While I enjoy your smiles, I think I would much prefer them when they are not born from the laughter that leaves you at my predicament."
"Aw," Claude says, although even he has to admit that it's probably for the best if Dimitri just stays himself instead of using any of Sylvain's lines on him. He wouldn't say he's so sweethearted that he wants Dimitri to stay true to himself. Rather... if he fell apart like a blushing fairytale princess from a simple kiss on the cheek when Dimitri was so sleepy that he almost smashed his face into the doorframe to his room, Claude is pretty sure he would outright die if Dimitri used a line on him.
"Do not 'aw' me," Dimitri scolds lightly, although he doesn't seem to be particularly serious about it. "At any rate - if it is not with the intent of marriage, of finding true love, may I ask... why on earth would you want to go on a date with me, Claude? Is..." And he hesitates a moment, hand flexing a moment, fingers curling in against his palm and then relaxing, only to repeat the motion all over again. "Is this only to play around, as Sylvain does so often?"
Just the idea is enough to make Claude's heart do some sort of miserable flip, which he immediately scolds it for. That's the only kind of relationship he has time for nowadays! The only kind of relationship he can trust, as much as he can trust any kind of romantic relationship, here in Fodlan. Still, to see the concern weighing down Dimitri's brow... Ugh. He never knew he could be so weak to blue eyed prince charmings.
"It's not like that," Claude says, because he really does suspect that him and Sylvain do what they do for very different reasons. "Rather... I'm not sure about what the future might hold, so I'd rather make happier memories here in the present."
It's something approaching the truth, which Claude hopes is good enough. Dimitri certainly seems to think it over, his gaze drifting back to the pages where he scribbled down his dream about the two of them. "The future... does often seem very frightening," he admits, his gaze distant. "Wanting to put one's faith in it, and wanting to treasure the present moments... I can understand that."
"Even if it's not something you personally subscribe to yourself?" Claude asks, tilting his head to the side. Even now, he's unable to stop himself from asking questions and picking at people's brains.
Dimitri shakes his head. "Just because I cannot personally follow along with a worldview like that does not mean it is inherently a bad thing," he says. "If anything, I find it truly understandable. Yet it is one thing to understand and welcome a viewpoint different than one's own, and another thing entirely to take that viewpoint into ones self." Dimitri looks up at him suddenly. "Ah - but I would not pressure you on a date, if you permitted me to take you on one! I will be on my best behavior!"
What a guy. Claude smiles. "Dimitri, out of every single person here in the Academy... You're at the bottom of my list of Guys Who Would Pressure Me. I know that you'd never do anything like that. Just..." This feels like it's going to either be the worst decision he'll have ever made, or the best. Claude isn't sure which one yet... but he can't help but occasionally take a gamble sometimes. Not when the stakes are either so great or so terrible, split right down the middle. "Just treat me like you would normally, alright?"
There's a moment of hesitation, but then Dimitri lets loose a breath and smiles. The kind of relieved smile that steals Claude's own breath straight out of his lungs. "Of course. I will try not to get too far ahead of myself... Although, would I be permitted to treat you a little preciously?"
A little preciously. Somehow, even though the phrasing is a little silly, it makes Claude's face heat up regardless. When's the last time someone treated him preciously? "You know, I kind of thought this was meant to talk about the fairy tale that we'll tell the kids," he says lightly, and watches Dimitri's face fall. "But if you want to spoil me a little, I can't say I would mind."
Just like that, Dimitri lightens up again. "Then I will spoil you as much as you allow me," he says. "Although - of course the most important thing is coming up with a tale for the children."
"Of course," Claude says, mimicking Dimitri's hastily put together seriousness. When the blond huffs at him, all he does is grin. "At any rate, we might not have to come up with very much. I mean-" He gestures to the hastily scrawled on papers that still decorate Dimitri's desk. "Why don't we use this, with a little bit of the trappings changed up? For example, not making it so obvious that it's taking inspiration from your direct life."
Growing beet red, Dimitri hastily shakes his head from side to side. "Absolutely not," he insists, hands jerking awkwardly as though not entirely sure what movement to make or where to go. "I - it would be quite shameless to include things such as a - a kiss! To children!"
Claude snorts. "Aren't there plenty of fairytales where a kiss features?" he asks. "To break a curse, or as a symbol of love? Although you don't have to worry about that. For your virtue, that's exactly why I mentioned changing some parts around." He grins, and winks again. "I think this is the kind of thing that we can continue to discuss over the dinner that you promised me, however."
That's enough to make Dimitri realize he still has to finish getting properly dressed, and he hurries, disappearing back behind the screen. When he emerges, he doesn't look too half bad: a white shirt, over navy blue pants, an open dark teal vest, and a pair of nicely made boots to finish the whole thing off. It's all clearly nice enough that no one would mistake him as anything less than a merchant's son at the very least, but not nice enough that they'd ever think of him as actual royalty. At least, not unless they'd seen him already and been introduced beforehand.
Out in public, first on the way to the stables and then on the road when they've gotten their horses, Dimitri is a lot more hesitant to bring up what they'd talked about before. Claude would even almost call it shy, or flustered. Well, it's not as though he's unsympathetic. With the conversation the two of them have just had, well... Of course Dimitri would be off his game, and utterly bewildered as to what he can even do in this kind of situation.
So Claude picks up the weight for most of the conversation. He talks about things he's heard going on over in the Blue Lion house, although only the silly and relaxed things that don't give away what serious things he's managed to overhear. There's always Sylvain's love life to gossip about, or the absolute failure of Felix's as people approach him in the middle of training to try and ply him with gifts. It never works, of course. Felix, as far as anyone else can tell, has the true love of swords. Anyone's attempts at romancing him go straight over his head.
Certainly it seems to help. Once they're a decent way from the monastery and the academy, although not quite at the town yet, Dimitri joins in. He talks about Raphael joining him for training one day, and how admirable he found the other man. They marvel together over what sketches Ignatz has done recently, if it's really true that Lorenz will take him in as an artist knight under the Gloucester name. With their two houses combined, there's no end to the amount of gossip they have access to.
It's honestly kind of impressive, considering that Claude never would have taken Dimitri to be the gossiping sort. When he brings this up to Dimitri once they arrive in town and stable their hoses, Dimitri puts on a sort of embarrassed expression. "Well, I would be loathe to say that I gossip... I do try to stay abreast of what events happen in school, although I do my best to never forget why I have come here in the first place. After all, I will be a king, one day. But... I don't want the line between me and my classmates to be too vast."
"Oh? And what do you mean by that?"
Gently patting his horse along her long face, Dimitri sighs. "If I am to be king, then I want to be a good one," he murmurs, gaze a little distant. "And a good king is one who pays mind to those he is meant to lead." He doesn't say commoners. He doesn't say subjects. Claude isn't entirely sure if that means anything, frankly, but he stores it away in his head regardless. Just in case. "While I am here... it will be the closest I will ever be in my life to other people, since there are few in the country who would be on my level - in terms of titles, at any rate." The way he wrinkles his nose is also something Claude stores away. "If I am going to be a good ruler, than I want to grow as close to as many of them as possible. I want to hear all sides and opinions - not just those of the nobility that will be clattering for my ear."
Yeah... Claude smiles to himself, adjusting the belt around his waist. This is one of the reasons he likes Dimitri. He'd seen traces of it before, of course, little hints here and there just from watching the other man. A lot of nobles put in talk about looking out for their people, of course. It's one of those things that makes them look good, both to their fellows and to everyone else. Yet some don't care nearly as much as they might think or say, as it turns out - something he was able to pick up a lot on while he was quickly learning the ropes of the Alliance. If it was something like that in the country his mother came from, then what were the other nations truly like...?
The answer, of course, is that it is a varied and complex situation all across the board, no matter where one is. There are pathetic nobles in Faerghus just as much as there are shining beacons of leadership such as the Fraldarius family. Humans are still humans, no matter where in the world they live. Claude can't help but find some reassurance in that kind of thing, honestly...
Just as much as he's reassured at the sight of Dimitri steadily helping people across the monastery when one of his fellows needs a heavy box lifted up, or how obediently he helps with whatever chore he is given. It's encouraging to hear tales of how he buys pastries for Ashe to pay him back for a kind deed done, or how he covers up some of the nuns when it's raining in the courtyard with little mind for how he himself gets soaked.
For some people, maybe that kind of thing would be an act. But Dimitri throws himself into it far too much for it to be anything but genuine, goes through too much little nuisances and defends people like Dedue with too much passion for this to be a lie. He really is... the fairytale prince that he used to think were fake. It kind of amuses Claude, honestly.
As the two of them step away from the stable, Claude chuckles. "Well, I definitely admire how much gusto you're throwing into a position you've yet to be crowned for... But just remember the basic important stuff, since a lot can change in the time between then and now. But enough about that." Winking, Claude taps his lips with one finger. "I think if we want to blend in a little better, we should cut this particular conversation off here."
Dimitri blinks. "Oh!" he says. "Yes, of course." Even as Dimitri says that, Claude wonders just how long the other man can keep quiet and not let things slip about his royal bloodline. At least Dimitri doesn't go around boasting about it like Ferdinand or Lorenz, so that's one thing. However, well... He's far too honest. Claude supposes they'll just have to wait and see.
Fortunately, the thing about waiting and seeing is that it doesn't always mean physically waiting and seeing. They move on away from the stables outside of town, with Dimitri paying a good amount of coin to the stableboys so that their horses are guaranteed a nice and pleasant stay. Then, sticking close to one another's side, they head out into the town proper.
It's a nice place; Claude has ducked down into it before. While it may not be the largest city amongst all of the three countries which make up Fodlan, it's still a pretty sizable little town in its own right. After all, it's the town nearest to the quite famous Garreg Mach; of course a town would start there properly instead of keeping everything just within the walls of the monastery. While Garreg Mach is a rather impressive place, all things considered, it still can't hold an entire city within its walls, especially for people who don't want to devote themselves to the Goddess.
And so that leaves a whole town, all on its own, to thrive with carpenters, blacksmiths, and merchants filling up its streets. And where there are a lot of people...
The dining hall Dimitri escorts him to is a pleasant little place. It's so tucked out of the way that Claude wonders just how many times Dimitri has ducked into town on his own as well without anyone else alongside him. Claude is mostly familiar with the huge one that's near the town square, and which gets the most business as it aggressively competes against the inn just across the street. Apparently it's quite a vicious little rivalry that they have going on...
So honestly? The dining hall set along the main road into the town, tucked just out of sight, is a hell of a lot more peaceful. It's not filled to bursting like the one in the town square, although there are still quite a few tables filled up by those who have a talent for sniffing out secrets. They're allowed to choose their own seats as well, under the smiling gaze of a server picking up some dirty dishes and wooden bowls over at another table. There's no roar of conversation to sweep over them. Instead, it's just a gentle murmur, like a soft tide that rolls over one's feet.
It fits Dimitri perfectly, in Claude's opinion, as the other man guides him through until they find a table set in a corner. Very considerately, Dimitri pulls out the chair against the wall for Claude. It's the perfect position that can allow him to see the rest of the dining hall with nothing obstructing his view besides the movements of other people as they deliver food or find a table. Claude wonders if that was on purpose, knowing his need for information and to be cautious... Or maybe Dimitri would rather just put all of his attention on him without anyone else at his back.
Somehow, Claude isn't entirely sure which one is more embarrassing. Maybe 'flattering' is the better word? No... He thinks it's embarrassing, definitely.
A place like this doesn't really have a whole lot of variety, despite the pleasant atmosphere. This isn't some nobleman's kitchen, with staff who will make anything at the drop of the hat. The server who comes over to them tells them what two meals are being made that day, and they both choose something - Dimitri with a simple bear steak, and Claude goes for the hearty stew. While they wait, both with some freshly squeezed juice that the hall boasts is from Garreg Mach itself, Dimitri finally glances over at him properly.
"Were you... sincere, in that you wanted to use that foolish dream of mine as the basis for the story we will tell the children?" he asks, almost shy in a way that doesn't at all match the bold and noble crown prince persona he does his best to wear back in school. It reminds Claude just a little bit of the sleepy way Dimitri had glanced at him when he had first come forward to ask for his help in the first place, acting out a story so that Claude would agree to assist in the first place.
Really, it's terribly hard to resist that kind of thing... He never would have thought he'd ever have to protect himself against that. Claude toys with the idea of not fighting against it at all, even as he's already answering. "I'd never jerk you around over something like this," Claude promises. Other things, yes, sure. But something this innocent, this harmless... He smiles. "I really like the kids that run around and play here too, you know, and the kids that the monastery adopted. I want to do right by them, so obviously I'm not going to do something that would make them unhappy on purpose. There's some great stuff in that dreaming mind of yours - you should polish it up a little bit in writing. But, for now, we can restrict that to figuring this story out first."
Such flattery has Dimitri tilt his head down just the slightest amount, a trail of pink along his cheeks. If he wasn't trying to keep such nice posture, it'd probably be easier to hide such a sight... but that's Dimitri for you. "I doubt I would have time for such things," he says, shaking his head. A smile creeps along those terribly kissable lips of his. "But... I will keep the compliment in mind. The future is a very vast thing, after all." He looks back up, meeting Claude's gaze. "Still, you said it was too easy to connect it to me, did you not?"
"That's right, although it's not particularly surprising it came out that way." Claude grins. "It was just a dream that you apparently scribbled down as fast as you could the second you woke up. Of course your dreaming subconscious would rattle all of that out; everyone knows how much The Tragedy affected you." He drops his voice low, beneath the hum of dining hall conversation, just for extra carefulness. "A prince whose family is terribly murdered in a horrible incident, with the culprits never seeing the harsh light of justice?" Claude shakes his head; it's really such an obvious factor that, if no one knew it had been penned from the prince's hand from his own head, they'd speak ill of someone playing on a tale so 'cheaply'. "Although I will say that being haunted by ghosts helps make it stand out in that way..."
Dimitri's smile is a thin and hesitant, directed down to where his hands clasp one another on the table's surface. "I... suppose it is rather obvious," he admits, no doubt not caring for the reminder that this tale, unfortunately, has its origins in something that truly happened. Claude feels bad, for a moment. Even if The Tragedy didn't have the same impact on him as it did for the rest of Fodlan, and especially Faerghus... It's still tragic to think about. "Still, if you insist on using the story as it is, then I confess I am uncertain on how it could be - reborn, so to speak. After all, well, the quest for vengeance was something of the point - as much as a dream can have a point."
It's a good point, and Claude nods, leaning back in his chair until the front legs are off the floorboards. "Well, vengeance can be for all sorts of things. While your dream was almost certainly based off of your past, as a story, we can change it around however we want."
"Even if we do change the reason for pursuing vengeance, we will have to do so with his meeting in mind," Dimitri says, looking up. Some of the tension around his mouth is gone, replaced now by a more thoughtful scrunch between his brows. "It is because he loses his family that he ends up meeting the mysterious boy from the stars."
"Such an eye for continuity," Claude chuckles. While Dimitri goes pink, he takes a small sip of his drink. "But you're right... And if we get rid of the murder, then he doesn't have the reason to pursue vengeance. Hmmm..." He falls silent for a moment when he spots one of the servers coming over with warm food ready for both of them. Claude waits until they have everything on the table, server gone.
While they may be talking about all of this in the context of a story, he still doesn't want to drag Dimitri's already infamous tragedy out into the open for others to just spectate at, and connect to the gentleman sitting in front of him.
Twirling his spoon in his hand when they finally have some (relative) privacy again, he taps it on the edge of his bowl. "Ah!" he says. "If we can't change the murder, we can change other little details about it. For example, it doesn't have to be while they're on the road - it could have been in a town, while staying at an inn, or during a hunt... That enough would probably switch up the idea entirely. People wouldn't make an immediate connection, not like they would with your original dream."
Frankly, Claude isn't sure even as he's speaking if this is the best idea, if it's respectful enough to Dimitri's original trauma to pass muster. It worries him, if he's honest. But Dimitri doesn't flinch, doesn't grimace or frown or scowl or any other million ways he could show he doesn't really like the idea. And this is Dimitri; he's not the most subtle kind of person in the world. His heart is permanently dangling from his sleeve for the entire world to see.
No, there's just some thoughtful chewing as he considers everything. "We would have to change a few more details for it to be a little more unrecognizable," Dimitri says, and smiles with a kind of tentative eagerness. "However, I think that is a good start. Although if it is in a town, or a camp site - mm, no, perhaps I am wrong. Not much would have to change to get him to a forest, and meet the boy from the stars."
Claude grins back at him. It looks like they're getting somewhere! "Actually, about him - did you have any ideas on what you wanted to do with him?" There's a joke on the tip of his tongue, a tease about what you want to do with me. Somehow, Claude manages to refrain. He honestly... really wants this little date of theirs to go well. "I don't want to start just tossing ideas out there when it was your dream. Who knows what you were thinking that you just forgot to write down on paper?"
"Not very much, if truth must be told," Dimitri says sheepishly, ducking his head down for a moment as though he's speaking more to his food than Claude. It doesn't last long. Dimitri is too well mannered for that. "Perhaps if my dream had continued, I would have a better idea of where I wanted to go with such things, but... Well -" A blush spreads over his face, and Claude can watch him almost visibly force his eyes not to look away from him again. "I apologize, Claude, but this is all rather embarrassing to say, considering the, well, clear parallels."
A laugh hops out of him that he quickly muffles, and Claude waves with his free hand. "Ah, sorry, sorry... I didn't mean to laugh at you. I just laughed because, well, yeah, I suppose it would be, wouldn't it?" He shakes his head in dry amusement. "I've been so focused on helping hammer out your story that it really did slip past me that, well... There's a little part of me involved in it too. I have to really think about what I should say..."
When it had come to telling his part of the dream, Dimitri had seemed alright with detailing what happened to that version of himself, had run into now particular difficulties in recounting his trauma but through a fairy tale lens. Claude can't say it's that easy for himself...
Who is he supposed to describe as this starlit boy in Dimitri's dreams? Khalid from Almyra, trying to find understanding and knowledge in a place beyond the stars? Claude of Riegan, newly born and already tossed head first into political machinations that threaten to overwhelm him like the sun's light does when looked at straight on?
The boy who is both?
Ha. Definitely not that. It's a little bit too revealing, then, and Claude doesn't plan on letting slip anymore than he did when he talked about Almyran fairy tales the night he and Dimitri were in the library together. That was a gamble in its own right; he'd rather keep his cards close to his chest, now.
So he hums a little, taking in Dimitri's gaze on him, and smiles. "Listen, you already know my story," he says, even if that's something of a lie. Dimitri only knows a part of his story - the safest part of it he can tell here in Fodlan. "Tell me what you thought of and I'll see what parts of it that I can add to, or make something new. It seems there was definitely a story of some sort behind why he went down to earth, and paid attention to this one random kid out of millions of people, and why he came down for this adventure in the first place. You've proven to be a lot more imaginative than anyone else would have guessed, Your Princeliness."
It's not a particularly thought out compliment, but it makes Dimitri go a little pink with pleasure at even that praise. Claude supposes it isn't surprising, when everyone knows the Faerghus prince's lancework more than anything else. "I am honored you think so," he manages to say, before blowing gently on a spoonful of stew. "But - now, you must promise not to laugh this time, Claude von Riegan. I know you are inclined to it."
Claude flicks his finger twice over his chest. "Cross my heart," he swears. "Now come on, out with it."
"Well..." Dimitri takes a bite of his meal, letting the spoon linger in there as though that can block his words and provide a convenient excuse. Fortunately, he's too polite to try and go along with that for along, and he finally slides the spoon out with a soft sigh. "I was thinking that perhaps the reason he was so eager to embark on such a journey was that he too felt isolated."
Ha. Ah. Claude's first reaction really is to laugh, to brush off such a thing and the icy grip he feels around his heart, dismiss it all. He bites down on his tongue instead. Cross his heart and all that, right...? Besides, if he overreacts, that will just be more suspicious. So he swallows down the burst of nerves that had surged through him, and follows that up with some stew himself. "I mean, it would certainly work out well in the prince's favor," he concedes when he's finally sure he can speak without sounding like a jackass. "What made you think I would laugh at that?"
Dimitri twists his spoon in his hand. "Since I did think of him with your likeness in mind, well, I suppose I thought it might come off as rather silly," Dimitri confesses. "After all, one need only look at how well you blend and socialize so well with the Golden Deer house as a whole. Many of the people there rather like you, save for when you pointedly antagonize them."
Under his breath, Claude laughs again. At least he knows he's doing his job right if that's the impression he's leaving on Dimitri. "Are you thinking about Lorenz?"
A pause, broken only by the background chatter of the food hall and the barely noticeable tapping of his spoon against his bowl. On his face, a struggle wages between politeness and absolute distaste. "I believe whatever relationship is between you and Lorenz Gloucester is an entirely different matter," he says slowly, the exact cadence nearly the cause of Claude choking on his own stew. "I was thinking of Lysithea, as a matter of fact."
So Lorenz gets his full name used, while Lysithea only has the one. Fun little tidbit of information to know. Claude couldn't stop grinning if he wanted to. "Have you two gotten into some sort of feud when I wasn't looking?"
"It's nothing like that," Dimitri protests, doing his best to seem like he's not protesting. "Rather, we have our hands full dealing with whatever romantic drama that Sylvain's antics have dredged up. Lorenz seems-" And he stops abruptly, not wanting to say what he very obviously was going to say. "Well, his own reputation proceeds him, and that is all I will say on the matter. I understand he has a good heart, and an eagerness to help others if they look as though they were truly out of their depth, of course."
"You can say he has a bunch of terrible habits and often isn't half as charming as Sylvain pretends to be, Your Princeliness," Claude says mildly, stirring his stew around to try and find some of the thicker vegetable slices. "I may be the house leader of the Golden Deer, but I'm not going to deny facts here." Suddenly, he laughs. "Oh - I just got a great idea. I know I just said I was going to leave all the backstory to you and your own clever head, but we should include Lorenz in this somehow. Nothing obvious, just a little something to poke fun at." His eyes glitter in amusement. "Something to help you get out some of the annoyance you clearly feel towards his antics."
Honestly, he means it mostly as a joke. Something to tease Dimitri about, how he gets fussy about Lorenz because of his similarities to Sylvain except a little bit worse in the area that binds them, or maybe make him relax and not worry about him not liking someone for once.
What Dimitri actually does is pause, before he lets his spoon rest along the rim of his bowl so that he can raise one hand to his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps there is something to that," Dimitri murmurs, almost to himself, before his shoulders jerk and he looks hastily up at Claude. "Oh - I don't mean I plan on making Lorenz a villain of any sort! But, well... Perhaps that has something to do with why the Star Prince is so keen on journeying with the Snow Prince."
Another anxious thud in his chest. Claude grins. "Why, Your Princeliness, you really think I look like a prince as well? I feel rather honored."
His joking works, in this case. Dimitri coughs into his hand. "Star Duke doesn't quite sound the same," he says a little awkwardly. "At any rate, as I was saying, perhaps he is finding an excuse to venture down onto earth to... prove himself, perhaps."
Claude would love to know if the Crest of Blaiddyd happens to gift its chosen users with the ability to lowkey read other people's minds or pasts. Dimitri's idle musings keep hitting just a little too close to home for him, and he has to tell himself to calm down almost every time the prince speaks now. Besides, this works with his current life, too. Although... "I can't say I have anything in particular to prove to the Gloucester Family, if that's what you're trying to say..."
"Not quite," Dimitri says with a shake of his head. "But perhaps it works out in his favor - the Star Prince, not you. He can sate or escape people demanding something of him with a handy excuse, while doing what he really wants to do."
"And what does he really want to do?"
Dimitri glances up at him almost poutily as he blows again on his next spoonful of stew. "I believe you're rather well aware of how awkward this is for me, to create motives and personality for someone that I based off of you," he grumbles, before shoveling his food down.
It's impossibly hard to keep himself from grinning at such an obvious callout. "Hey, I'm just trying to be a polite co-author," he laughs, indulging in his food as well. At least it tastes good, providing the conversation with a pleasant and delicious background. "Besides, if it's too much like me, then I'll tell you how to steer it away so that it's a little less obvious - just like how we did for your 'Snow Prince'."
The deadpan look he's receiving from across the table says that Dimitri doesn't entirely buy this. Still, after a bit of chewing, he swallows and sighs. "Perhaps... Perhaps he wants to see the world, in a way he'd never be able to stuck where he was."
"Stuck where he was..." Claude stirs his spoon through the stew a little bit more, thoughtful. After a moment, he smiles. "You know what, I think I like that. And, not to hoist up my own flag or anything, but it makes the Star Prince sound pretty clever. He'll get to prove to the others up in the stars - something or another, I don't think you said, and he'll get to fulfill a dream of his, and he'll get to help someone he really cares about. I know the saying goes 'two birds with one stone', but I think he's hitting three out of the garden instead."
Dimitri chuckles down into what is becoming more bowl than stew. "I suppose that would appeal to you, wouldn't it?" he says, and Claude's heart pounds again - not from false alarm, but instead from the edge of fondness that underlays Dimitri's words. "Maybe we should make him an adventurer in his own right, then, don't you think?"
A grin starts to spread across Claude's face. "Going down to the earthly world where all his elders told him he wasn't supposed to go, but he kept going down, drawn by the prayers and words of the people down there, sometimes just to offer a listening ear, and other times to help a scared and straggling prince of snow get to safety. Yeah, I think I like that." He laughs again. "Although I hope that we don't get some angry parents on our tails, telling us that we're being bad influences with a protagonist like that."
"Oh, that is hardly the worst thing that has ever been in a fairy tale," Dimitri says, grinning widely himself. "I'm sure it will be fine. But you know, if the Star Prince travels about so much, then maybe he knows plenty of other people that the two of them can meet on their journey for vengeance, and they can help, or send the two on other quests."
Now isn't that an idea. Claude grins around his spoon. "Are you telling me, sir, that you want to include a fictional version of Hilda, or Sylvain, in this fairytale that we're concocting together?"
To his credit, despite his clear embarrassment spread all across his cheeks, Dimitri manages to otherwise keep himself together as he clears his throat. "I am simply saying, there is no fairytale that only includes the protagonists," he says stiffly. "Besides, children often ask questions about the other characters that inhabit the world of fairytales. It is good to have a personality or backstory in mind for even the innkeepers."
"Spoken like a true storyteller who has had exactly that experience," Claude drawls, popping his spoon out and twirling it in Dimitri's direction. "Anyway, I think we have the Star Prince figured out well enough, at least for right now. Let's go back to distinguishing the Snow Prince..."
And they do. They talk about the fictional prince for a while, long after they've cleaned their bowls out and drained their cups of drink. It gets to the point that they have to leave the dining hall, because other people could use their seats and neither of them are so self-absorbed that they would take up room they don't need.
The good news is that the town is large, thriving off of the business that the church gives it, and so there are no end of locations that the two of them can go to. In fact, their wanderings are even good for thinking about the story they're crafting together.
Browsing the market wares has them suggest a traveling merchant and his sister who the princes help defend against some bandits, and who guides them through the land like he knows the callouses on his own palm.
Looking over the books that one stall has piled high on its counter encourages Claude to suggest a mysterious recluse in the forest who might have an answer they seek.
In counter, Dimitri offers up an encounter with a pair of knights, one a bold woman and the other a kind man, who the Snow Prince has to hide his identity from. It goes on like that, listing all sorts of characters, neither of them ever admitting to any names but still knowing who the other is thinking of.
"You should talk to Hilda and Seteth, become a children's book writer," Claude says when the two of them take a break, sprawled out underneath a beautifully full tree. There are spots like this in the town, patches of green and flowers where people just take a break to relax in. That's what they're doing right now, as the setting sun paints the sky a comforting purple to yellow transition. "I bet you would be great at it - and wouldn't that be a charming bit of history for future scholars? The king who wrote children's books in his spare time."
A low, deep rumble of a laugh rolls out of Dimitri. Claude hasn't known him for long, not like some of the people in the Blue Lions house, but he can tell it's getting deeper. He can only imagine what his voice will be like in a few years time; the thought makes him shiver a little bit. "I would hardly call myself any sort of aspiring author," Dimitri says. "I was only lucky in this part, for my dreams to make the Tragedy something... distant."
Something distant... Claude thinks about how, in a more literal sense, his own home and all its troubles are so far away from him, now. "Is it helping?" he asks suddenly, and immediately wonders if maybe he's stepped over some sort of line.
From the corner of his eye, he carefully watches Dimitri - his glazed over stare, the hasty shake of his head that follows afterwards. "Perhaps it is," he says quietly. "The Snow Prince has still lived a life of tragedy, but... Ah, this will sound silly." He bends forward, elbows braced against his knees as he ruffles the back of his head. In the fading light, he looks a little more physical, somehow. "But you will listen, won't you, Claude?"
Even back in the academy, there are people who don't trust him, and even some of the people who trust him a bit still wouldn't tell him anything deep about themselves. Out of everyone there, Dimitri at least has a better reason than others to follow that same habit. Unless there is a lot of history - both familial and personal - nobles don't normally go leaking out their hearts to other nobles... not if they're smart, and in Fodlan.
One day, Dimitri will be the king of a country. One day, as far as anyone else knows, Claude will be the most powerful duke in the Leicester Alliance. Today, as they attend school together... They're the leaders of opposing houses, who will fight for glory in little practice battles that are only really practice and mean nothing in particular.
There are exceptions, of course, like the long-lasting Fraldarius tradition of being its king's shield - something that Felix seems determined to follow with how he hangs about Dimitri like a ghost for all his snarling. But then there are the things which very much aren't, like the Adrestrian Empire's current political situation. Claude isn't even from the same country as Dimitri, in more ways than one.
But he wants to listen. He wants to offer something to this tragedy weary boy that's sitting besides him, offering his heart so gently out to him. Despite everything that has ever happened to him, all the terrible things he's seen, Dimitri still wants to believe better in people. He still wants to trust, and hope, and see a happier future.
Claude wants to be that, too, and so he says, "Hey, does it look like I'm going anywhere, Your Princeliness?"
When Dimitri smiles at him for those simple and teasing words, Claude finds them worth more than gold, and glad to have traded them away for that look.
It's a good thing Dimitri looks away after that; Claude kind of needs to breathe and it's hard to do that when Dimitri smiles at him. (Which is kind of embarrassing.) While Claude lets his lungs recover, Dimitri continues to explain himself. "The Snow Prince might have had a life of tragedy, but... It is a tragedy I can control," he says slowly, thoughtfully. "He doesn't have to lose anyone else that is important to him. On a road of glass or of flowers, either at my discretion, he can find those responsible and find justice. He can go at it with other people, who will protect him and be protected in turn. When I think back on my memories, it's so close as to burn, but this..."
"It's not you," Claude say. He gets it. "There may be a lot of similarities, but it's not you. It's not a real person suffering what you suffered. Everything is up to you - right?"
"Everything is up to me," Dimitri agrees quietly. In his eyes, the sunset reflects too harshly off of them, and they seem more black than blue. Lost, looking for some sort of light that the natural world can't give him.
Claude hopes he can find it somewhere, in someone. A part of him even entertains the idea of it being himself, although he knows that's impossible. This is just... a childish infatuation, a little thing they'll both entertain while they're young before they grow up, and become the kings they want to see in the world.
Still, that doesn't mean he can and will give ntohing to the man besides him, and so what he decides to give are his words, as always. "You know, that doesn't sound silly at all." And Dimitri smiles at him again.
"I have kept you out for quite a while, haven't I, Claude?" he remarks. "I should treat you to dinner, while we are still here in town. I imagine that we won't make it in time for anything to still be warm back in the Academy's mess hall."
His cheeks are going to break apart if he keeps smiling this hard. "An attempt at bribery, all to keep this date going on longer, is that it?" he teases, and feels more pleased than he probably should when Dimitri's cheeks go a pretty pink to match the watercolor that is the sky. "Well, it's not every day you get treated by royalty-" Ha. Ha. "-so don't mind if I accept your generous offer. Should we go to the same place as last time, or one of the more popular dining halls in the town?"
Pushing himself up onto his feet, Dimitri says, "I believe if we go to any of those businesses, then there is a chance of some of our classmates encountering us," he says. "And I think... I would like to avoid the vine of gossip as much as I possibly can, for as long as I can. It really is no business of theirs."
He offers his hand to Claude, who takes it and allows himself to be hauled up onto his own two feet as if he weighs absolutely nothing. Dimitri's strength has never been any kind of secret, but it's still something else entirely to feel him be hauled around like an empty sack. "No, I get you entirely," Claude says, and winks. "Sometimes it's nice to have a secret little something just between two people, right?"
"Exactly." Shyly, tentatively, Dimitri twitches his fingers around Claude's own. In turn, Claude squeezes back, and savors the next smile he gets. This is getting dangerous; he might get addicted to Dimitri's expressions at this rate. "Then, let's see if we cannot find somewhere quieter to dine."
It takes a little bit of searching to find a place like that, as it turns out. Fortunately, Claude is a bit of a smooth talker, and he talks to some of the locals with all that smoothness. They're more than happy to point the two of them in the direction of a tiny little bakery - not quite a dining hall, but still a good place with a good family running it who do the occasional meal for anyone who asks or looks hungry enough. They're just starting to clean up when Dimitri and Claude arrive, but they're also preparing dinner for themselves... and apparently a little extra.
The sandwiches are simple, but delicious, as the two of them eat outside underneath a sky that becomes simultaneously darker and brighter. It's nothing special, on the face of it. Someone like Lorenz would be aghast at how simple it is, honestly. But for Claude...
He doesn't think anything could taste better than a simple sandwich while him and Dimitri sit so close to each other that their shoulders brush. That's the plain truth.
They talk about the latest lecture, about Dorothea's alleged and latest plan to sweep Ingrid off of her feet with noble politics be damned, about some of the strange things that are happening throughout the Academy and Church both...
"In a way, I somewhat admire the Leicester Alliance when it comes to how they deal with the Church of Seiros," Dimitri says when the two of them are on their way after finally remembering curfew is a thing that exists. Claude is pretty sure they're going to miss it, but it should be fine, if they're sneaky. Which means he'll be fine. "I think I would rather like that for Faerghus."
Folding his hands behind his head, Claude hums. That's certainly an interesting thing to hear from one Crown Prince to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. "What do you mean, exactly?" he asks, as Garreg Mach looms up ahead of them, the warmth of its lights distinguishing its dark shape from the star riddled night sky.
"I simply believe that perhaps the Church would be able to focus on much more of what is important for itself, if it did not have to concern itself with our ridiculous politics," Dimitri says, and Claude has to admire those words for a moment. Oh, sure, he's pretty sure he can see through it in an instant, but Dimitri is still being so careful in such a casual way.
That concern is absolutely just for the Church, of course. Claude never took Dimitri for a liar, but he suspects that Dimitri might have a political talent all his own of excusing his own actions with concern - no doubt some genuine, but some maybe not so much - by twisting things around on how they're good for the other party.
Because certainly the Church could focus on a lot of other issues, like bringing souls to salvation or healing the wounded or dealing with whatever fractured bullshit is going on in their own ranks, if they didn't have to fuss with the politics of countries... But at the same time, no doubt Faerghus could find its own room to breathe and grow if it didn't have the Church looming over its shoulder with its own agenda.
Claude grins wider. Dimitri really does have more hidden depths than he thinks most people in the Academy know. It makes him hopeful, excited, for the future.
"Well, the Leicester Alliance definitely had its own way of getting to where it is, and I doubt that would work entirely for Faerghus," he says casually, squinting through the darkness. Maybe he should have brought a lantern, or a torch. He's used to the neverending darkness of Almyra, but Fodlan's nights are a bit different. The terrain is a bit different. "Hey, how about we arrange a little date for another time, and I can tell you all about the history there-"
Fodlan's nights are definitely different. Not only do the trees overhead obscure some of the night sky - an orienting and guiding force otherwise - but even the moonlight can't illuminate everything along the path. Claude's foot catches a particularly large rock right there in the middle of the path, and he goes pitching forward so suddenly that he nearly bites off his own tongue. His body tenses, expecting a hard impact any second -
But there's only hands at his shoulders, around his waist, and there he goes again - lifted up so effortlessly in a way that gets his stupid little heart fluttering. "Claude!" Dimitri exclaims quietly, his chest pressing against his arm. At Claude's waist, his hand seems to burn its place there. "Are you all right?"
Claude whistles out a breath, and then grins at Dimitri. While the sunset had made him seem solid, moonlight has the opposite effect. His hands are right there all over Claude's body, and yet the light makes his pale hair and skin almost translucent. Like this... "You know, when you look so dashing like this, Your Princeliness, I can see why the character in the story is called the Snow Prince." Surely he must look exactly like this, like that particular pale blue which he imagines must be so commonplace up in Faerghus.
The illusion is ruined a little bit by the deep pink that dusts Dimitri's cheeks, making them all the more darker in the nighttime, but Claude can't say he minds. "I supposes that answers that question," he huffs, removing himself slightly from Claude's side. It's a disappointment, but not much of one when Dimitri takes Claude by the hand. "Now come on, we are quite late as it is."
They're not so late as to be particularly bothered by the latest guard who's just been put on shift at the gates, apparently, who only nods at them as they pass. Claude finds that to be a bit of good luck; fresh faced guards are always in a better mood than the ones who've been waiting around for ages with nothing else to do. It's easier to hide their joined hands when they pass by him, too, the darkness an added bonus in this kind of situation.
Garreg Mach's grounds are quiet and mostly empty as they make their way through the halls. No doubt the two of them could make it all the way to their rooms with no trouble... But Dimitri pauses in a little shadowy corridor where the moonlight just barely manages to filter in, and turns to face Claude. "I want to let you know that I truly did have a lovely night with you," he says quietly, voice nothing more than a breeze in such empty corridors. "I enjoyed crafting the story with you, and having dinner later on. I imagine you must have been teasing to some degree when you first mentioned it, but... I hope you were not completely joking when you mentioned a second date."
Oh. Claude doesn't really get nervous. Or, if he gets nervous, he likes to think it's for things with appropriately high stakes, and he charges through anyway. Yet just a few words from Dimitri, and his ridiculous heart is making all sorts of strange motions in his chest. Still, he does the same thing he does every time he feels nervous. Charge through. "Well, I suppose we could say I was only joking as much as you wanted me to be," he murmurs. "What do you think about that, Your Princeliness?"
Dimitri's eyes almost seem to glow in the darkness, so blue that they sink right down into the very cracks of him. The force of his earnestness is truly a dangerous thing; Claude rather likes it. "I think," Dimitri says slowly, his thumb rubbing circles along Claude's hand, "that I would rather like not only a second date, but to make up for how improperly I did things."
Claude is just about to say that none of this has been improper, that Dimitri is getting too hung up on court propriety again, that he's had a great night...
And then Dimitri sweeps down into a low bow with Claude's hand still in his, and presses a sweet kiss to the back of his fingers.
Claude's heart doesn't stop, exactly, but he certainly forgets it exists as he stares down at Dimitri with wide eyes and hot cheeks. No one has ever bothered to treat him so preciously like this. No one has ever even thought about it, he's sure. But for Dimitri to insist that he do things right for him, that he wants to see him again, is... is...
"I believe it is rather past curfew," Seteth says dryly, and Claude nearly has a god damn heart attack.
Certainly his heart makes something of a concentrated effort to leap out of his chest, taking his whole body with it as Claude jumps straight up in the air. Across from him, Dimitri lets go of his hand like he's been burned - probably as much out of embarrassment as to not destroy his hand with a startled grip. "Cichol's balls!" Claude curses - a bad thing to say in front of a holy man, he knows that much even before Seteth's eyebrow twitches. Still, what else is he supposed to say? "Seteth, do you really have to do that!?"
"Seteth, I am so sorry," Dimitri says, so hasty that Claude suspects he hadn't even heard what Claude said. "The trip back up from town took longer than expected, but I will ensure that I never make such a mistake ever again!"
Moving his dry gaze away from Claude, Seteth moves one hand from behind his back in order to make a small calming motion in Dimitri's direction. "I understand, Dimitri," he says, using a much more mild tone than he does with Claude. "You don't normally do such things."
"Wow," Claude says, laughter rolling along the edge of his words. "Why don't you ever reassure me like that, Seteth? Is this favoritism that I'm listening to right now?"
Seteth briefly closes his eyes, no doubt asking the Goddess why he hasn't gotten a pay raise yet. "What you are listening to is the consequences of your constant snooping into business that is none of yours, Claude," Seteth reminds him sternly, yet still with a commendable amount of patience. Before Claude can point out that he could be much worse, that he could be Hanneman, Seteth continues. "Still, while it is understandable, you are both still out past curfew. I will escort you to your rooms."
Claude is pretty sure that Seteth is just ensuring that neither of them pulls a Sylvain and makes out underneath the statue of a saint or something, as a matter of fact. Still, there's no point in arguing. With both of them still pretty red faced, they make sure to stay separated, and trail after Seteth like a pair of naughty school children.
In the back of his head, Claude makes a note to keep better track of the time... or at least figure out just how on earth Seteth really does seem to have a built in sense dedicated strictly to cockblocking romantic couples. It's honestly rather impressive.
Besides him, Dimitri seems to be thinking of entirely different things. His expression shifts from embarrassment to outright shame as something clicks in his head, and he hastens his steps a little bit so that he can whisper up at Seteth. "I swear on my name that we were not going to get up to anything inappropriate, sir," he says hastily, having no doubt made the Sylvain connection in his head just now. "I would not tarnish the Academy's name."
"I know," Seteth says patiently as the two of them troop up the stairs to the dorms. "I am not you of anything."
"Yeah, he's accusing me of everything," Claude pipes up with a smile, folding his hands behind his head. The back of his fingers still burn from Dimitri's lips.
Dimitri glances back at him with a small huff. "We have been together this entire time," he points out. "If you are a troublemaker this night, then so am I."
"Aw," Claude says, maybe a little exaggerated just to hide how warm and fuzzy that makes him feel. Truly a menace, that Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. "Maybe I ought to take you with me every night, then, Dimitri. We can see how well that excuse works on Seteth during other nights, too."
"I would rather you not," Seteth says dryly. "Now, I believe we have reached your rooms, you two." And he's right. Right before them lays the stretch of hallway Claude has come to know quite well, lights still peering out from beneath a couple of doorways. No one of importance or who would peer out to see who's been caught by Seteth, hopefully.
With their destination reached, Dimitri turns towards both Seteth and Claude in order to bow. "I will bid both of you good night, then," he says, and maybe he's a little more stiff than he was before, and maybe his gaze flicks from Claude to Seteth in something of a dead giveaway for how much he's holding himself back.
Well, it is pretty understandable to act like that, honestly. They probably shouldn't tease Seteth, especially a Prince Charming like Dimitri. At the same time... Claude doesn't want this to be how their night ends. And maybe, just maybe, he can get back at Dimitri a little bit for that first night, when they both came back from the library.
So he steps forward to grab Dimitri's hand again. "Good night to you too, Dimitri," he says, winking, and then he pulls Dimitri's unresisting hand up to peck a kiss to his palm, too. He lingers just enough to see Dimitri's eyes go starstruck and his cheeks heat up again before he whirls around, absconding into his room once more. When he falls back onto his bed, he has to smother his smile against his pillow.
There. Now Dimitri gets to be the one haunted by thoughts of a kiss this time.