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Blue Lions Week, June 10: Teatime and Cross-House
"Dimitri, I need you right now," Claude says, reaching over to take the prince by the hand, and, well, that's that. Dimitri goes with him without question, because of course he does. Asks him what's wrong the entire way, too, but Claude keeps him guessing, in suspense...
At least until they're in the little courtyard where everyone generally has their tea, a perfectly peaceful and serene locale.
Dimitri blinks. "Is..." Frowning, he looks around. "Claude, I am afraid that I do not see what is so dire that it would need my attention."
"It'll be apparent in a minute," Claude promises him, patting his shoulder and urging him down into a seat. At this time of day, it's not peak tea time - not morning, for a fresh cup to wake a soul, not shortly after lunch, and not in the comfortable afternoon. That means it's primarily just the two of them sitting down at a table.
At least, it's just the two of them until a girl storms by in the hallway, visible just past some of the carefully cut hedges, furious even as a pleading Sylvain Gautier trails after her. He lets her go off around the halfway point of the hallway, raking both his hands up into his hair and looking absolutely bamboozled. From the end of the hallway Sylvain just exited - as did the girl, for that matter - Lorenz pokes his head out. The expression on his face is a complicated one, actively wavering between incredible smugness and pure exhaustion. Sylvain slinks back over to him, shoulders slump, and starts talking in hushed tones. Judging by Sylvain's accusatory finger point, it's an argument.
Dimitri turns his head slowly to stare at him. Claude wastes no time as he jumps into an explanation.
"They've been up to this all morning," he whispers. Undoubtedly they're going to be caught watching this mess eventually, but there's no need to hurry the process along. "From what I've heard, it was some sort of dumb bet that got started up between them. This has been the result every single time. I don't know if Sylvain is just having terrible luck, if Lorenz is rubbing off on him, or if every single eligible bachelorette in Garreg Mach has heard about this frankly terrible idea."
Dimitri pauses, just... staring. "You took me all the way over here just to watch Sylvain and Lorenz fail at wooing women?"
"It sounds rather petty when you frame it like that..."
Sure enough, Dimitri rises up to his feet with a shake of his head, and takes leave of the table. At the very least, he has the decency to not go directly in the direction of Sylvain and Lorenz, instead going the opposite direction. Rather gentlemanly of him, really. Claude lets him go, shrugging. He thought it might be fun, something to do with the two of them... But, well, he guesses this sort of thing isn't proper for the noble crown prince of Faerghus.
Sylvain and Lorenz manage to flub things with another two girls by the time he hears the careful clanking of heavy boots, and he blinks up as Dimitri sets down a tray of tea upon the table. If his eyes don't deceive him, then there's a twinkle in Dimitri's very own.
"I brought along chamomile for our watching," he says, settling down into the seat across from Claude with a shy little smile. "I hope the scones are to your taste."
Well, well, well. Claude's grin grows wide upon his face. "I imagine they'll be perfect," he says. "But better pour quick- I think another poor soul is coming along. Let's hope it's not Ingrid." If it's Ingrid, then both of the men they're watching are going to die. That's just a fact.
They managed to enjoy themselves for a nice and solid fifteen minutes, exchanging idle thoughts about things happening about Garreg Mach, all while enjoying tea and watching their classmates scramble to hold onto any trace of ego. It all comes to an end when Sylvain comes over to Dimitri, dramatic in the way a man with nothing to lose is, begging for his king to take him on his date so that he can scrap some of his dignity together.
It's the best thing in the world, second to only the way Lorenz accuses Sylvain of cheating.
It's also the most Claude has laughed in months.
At least until they're in the little courtyard where everyone generally has their tea, a perfectly peaceful and serene locale.
Dimitri blinks. "Is..." Frowning, he looks around. "Claude, I am afraid that I do not see what is so dire that it would need my attention."
"It'll be apparent in a minute," Claude promises him, patting his shoulder and urging him down into a seat. At this time of day, it's not peak tea time - not morning, for a fresh cup to wake a soul, not shortly after lunch, and not in the comfortable afternoon. That means it's primarily just the two of them sitting down at a table.
At least, it's just the two of them until a girl storms by in the hallway, visible just past some of the carefully cut hedges, furious even as a pleading Sylvain Gautier trails after her. He lets her go off around the halfway point of the hallway, raking both his hands up into his hair and looking absolutely bamboozled. From the end of the hallway Sylvain just exited - as did the girl, for that matter - Lorenz pokes his head out. The expression on his face is a complicated one, actively wavering between incredible smugness and pure exhaustion. Sylvain slinks back over to him, shoulders slump, and starts talking in hushed tones. Judging by Sylvain's accusatory finger point, it's an argument.
Dimitri turns his head slowly to stare at him. Claude wastes no time as he jumps into an explanation.
"They've been up to this all morning," he whispers. Undoubtedly they're going to be caught watching this mess eventually, but there's no need to hurry the process along. "From what I've heard, it was some sort of dumb bet that got started up between them. This has been the result every single time. I don't know if Sylvain is just having terrible luck, if Lorenz is rubbing off on him, or if every single eligible bachelorette in Garreg Mach has heard about this frankly terrible idea."
Dimitri pauses, just... staring. "You took me all the way over here just to watch Sylvain and Lorenz fail at wooing women?"
"It sounds rather petty when you frame it like that..."
Sure enough, Dimitri rises up to his feet with a shake of his head, and takes leave of the table. At the very least, he has the decency to not go directly in the direction of Sylvain and Lorenz, instead going the opposite direction. Rather gentlemanly of him, really. Claude lets him go, shrugging. He thought it might be fun, something to do with the two of them... But, well, he guesses this sort of thing isn't proper for the noble crown prince of Faerghus.
Sylvain and Lorenz manage to flub things with another two girls by the time he hears the careful clanking of heavy boots, and he blinks up as Dimitri sets down a tray of tea upon the table. If his eyes don't deceive him, then there's a twinkle in Dimitri's very own.
"I brought along chamomile for our watching," he says, settling down into the seat across from Claude with a shy little smile. "I hope the scones are to your taste."
Well, well, well. Claude's grin grows wide upon his face. "I imagine they'll be perfect," he says. "But better pour quick- I think another poor soul is coming along. Let's hope it's not Ingrid." If it's Ingrid, then both of the men they're watching are going to die. That's just a fact.
They managed to enjoy themselves for a nice and solid fifteen minutes, exchanging idle thoughts about things happening about Garreg Mach, all while enjoying tea and watching their classmates scramble to hold onto any trace of ego. It all comes to an end when Sylvain comes over to Dimitri, dramatic in the way a man with nothing to lose is, begging for his king to take him on his date so that he can scrap some of his dignity together.
It's the best thing in the world, second to only the way Lorenz accuses Sylvain of cheating.
It's also the most Claude has laughed in months.