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Dimiclaude Week: Day 5 - Snow Day/Staying Warm
"Oh, I see," Claude says, voice maintaining a facade of calm. "You want me to die, Dimitri. Can't believe it took me this long to figure it out, but you just genuinely want to see me in the grave, huh?"
Dimitri casts a glance back at him, eyes glittering in amusement even as he tugs his cloak properly around his shoulders. "I would say that is a little bit dramatic," he comments, and his mouth twists as he tries not to smile too hard. Jokes on him; Claude can spot the kind of thing from a mile away. "It is just a little bit of snow, Claude."
That is a fucking lie, of course, although Claude wonders if Dimitri realizes how much of a lie it is. The snow that is outside goes higher than Claude's foot, which would be bad enough to start with, and, unfortunately, it then goes far higher than that. He could make a house, with all the snow that's piled up outside. And yet Dimitri doesn't seem to mind this whatsoever. He just smiles calmly as he hands Claude a cloak as well, and Claude glances down at it warily. With how much snow is outside, he's not sure there will ever be enough layers to actually save his poor life. "I need more layers than this, Dimitri."
"You're already wearing a great deal of layers," Dimitri points out. "There are the underlayers, and then your first shirt, and the vest under that, and a jacket, and then a coat-"
Dimitri stops talking when Claude steps forward, and closes his eye happily as Claude cups his face in his hands. It's almost easy to get distracted like this; Dimitri is practiclly a dog happy for physical affection when this sort of thing happens. Unfortunately for both of them, he's not doing this just to be a cute and adorable boyfriend. Rather, once he securely has Dimitri's face in his hands, Claude gives his beautiful and dumb blond head a little shake. "Dimitri, there will never be enough layers for this to be all right," he points out, enunciating each word as clearly as he possibly can.
He's being dead serious here, and yet Dimitri laughs as he's shaken, and, uh, that's just really unfair. That's ridiculously unfair. Dimitri doesn't actually laugh a lot, which seems like a small thing, easy to miss, for anyone who just hangs around him casually. But for Claude, who laughs too much to fill up awkward silences, to make things seem okay when they aren't...
Ugh! How dare Dimitri do this to him. Showing off that rare little treasure that is his laughter, and smiling at him. "It hardly ever snows to this extent this far south," Dimitri tells him, although Garreg Mach is hardly that down south at all. "Come on. It will be fun."
It won't be fun at all. It's going to be absolutely hellish. Claude is going to die. He knows all of this for a fact, and yet, somehow, he still gets suckered in, and ends up being lead through the stone halls and out the front gate of Garreg Mach. Personally, he blames it on Dimitri smiling at him with that damn smile of his while he'd wrapped his own scarf around Claude's neck. They wave at a few people that they know as they make their way, and, soon enough, they're out there far away from any cozy braziers, or fireplaces, or walls that could protect them from the miserable wind...
Claude eyes the coat that Dimitri is wearing underneath his cloak, and ponders if he could fit in it. He probably could. But is it worth the risk of having to deal with some of the armor - gauntlets, mainly - that Dimitri still insists on wearing even in this weather?
While he's debating on the pros and cons, Dimitri looks around before he makes a small noise of acknowledgment. "Ah, there it is," he says, pleased, and goes to move to something that's in one of the few places that's at least a little less snowed in than the rest of the area. That would be because it's underneath a tree, its branches still holding up admirably against the heft of the snowfall that swept over Garreg Mach the night before. Not much of it has fallen to the ground yet... or onto the sled that is waiting there, propped up against the trunk.
"Oh, wow, I just remembered that I have a really important assignment I need to get to for one of Teach's classes," Claude says. "And then maybe die. I can't go sledding with you."
Hefting up the sled with a delicate ease, Dimitri just smiles some more. Claude almost hates it, because he loves it so much, and it's really unfair for Dimitri to use this against him during such a time. A terrible, freezing, gods damn cold damn. "No you don't," Dimitri says, before pausing to amend his words. "Well, you might, but you would have put that off anyway in favor of your own research."
A part of Claude's stomach twists, that no one knows him so well now. It's an almost anxious sort of feeling, but exciting, too. He puts it to the side, for now. After all, if he focused on that feeling every time it happened, well, he'd never get anything done with Dimitri.
At least the cold provides a good incentive for snapping his brain out of his own head. "Be that as it may," he says, "It's going to be miserable. I've gone flying when it's cold, Dimitri. Feeling all that air rushing past your face... It takes so much just to keep holding onto the reins of a wyvern." Just imagining it is enough to make him shudder. At that height, everything is even colder than down on the ground... The skies are the place where snow first forms, after all. It's there that everything is at its coldest.
Of course, he's trained himself to fly in such conditions, but that doesn't mean he has to like it.
Putting the sled down to one hand, Dimitri reaches out with the other one. The world might be cold right now, and yet that's nothing compared to the soft warmth of him that starts to sink through Claude's glove. "We're not up in the skies, Claude," Dimitri reminds him, which is an unfortunately fair point. "And there's one more thing that's different from flying as well."
"And what would that be?" Claude asks, wondering if Dimitri is going to say some clever and asinine little detail that practically doesn't count. Sometimes his sense of humor is really terrible, honestly.
Of course, it's outdone only by Dimitri's earnest romance, and he leans in to touch their foreheads together. In the cold air, it's easy to see the way their breath mingles together, two things becoming one before they disappear. "I'm going to be with you," Dimitri promises him, and looks up at him beneath those pale eyelashes of his. "And I shall keep you warm."
Ugh. Ugh. Unbelievable.
Of course that's how Claude ends up on a sled, at the top of a hill, his heels dug firmly into the snow as Dimitri clambers on behind him. "This is a terrible idea," he reminds Dimitri patiently, resisting the urge to drape his cloak over his head and just curl into a ball. It would just mean he'd end up stuck in the snow even longer, he reminds himself.
"It is going to be wonderful," Dimitri insists, adjusting himself from where he's sitting behind Claude. Just that alone is enough to warm him up, the space of his back now shielded from the cold from that warm body. Claude knew it - he really should have just crawled into Dimitri's coat. That probably wouldn't have solved his current predicament, but it would have made him feel better in the meanwhile. "I am sure that once you actually experience the thrill of sledding, you will hardly think about your cold body at all. I made sure to choose quite a good hill, too."
And he's not wrong, either. Due to its location, Garreg Mach is surrounded by a good few hills. Some of them aren't anything impressive, but others go through quite a bit of forest, too, or are large enough that roads avoid them completely.
Claude wonders when Dimitri first thought to use this spot for sledding, if it pinged him the first day he ever approached the school, or if it was a fit of inspiration as the snowfall washed over the land, coating it in that serene and silencing white. Hey, who knows? Maybe it hit him right as he was looking for what spot to take Claude to. Probably it doesn't really matter in the end.
What matters is that Dimitri is right: this is a pretty good hill, if one is thinking in terms of choosing a hill to sled down. It has a good height to it, and an incline that isn't afraid to go just steep enough while not being so steep that they'd just go forward and then faceplant. Claude is of course not an expert on such things; he's had the self preservation instinct in his life to avoid such snowy and terrible weather ever since he was first introduced to it when he came to Fodlan. But, you know. He has a brain. He can connect 2 and 2 together.
That's kind of the same reason why, while this is a pretty good hill in terms of sledding, it is a terrible hill in terms of things that seek to make his life purposefully miserable.
"You really shouldn't have gone through all the effort, Dimitri," he says dryly.
"Oh, it was hardly any undo effort at all," Dimitri answers back airly, and it's times like this that make him wonder just how much of Dimitri is earnest, and how much of him is well aware that he is full of bullshit and just boulders through any other thought someone tries to snidely make about him well aware that he can get away with such nonsense. It's kind of impressive. "Anyway, I really did want to have a good time with you."
It's a sweet thought, really. Claude can acknowledge that much. And he's not lying in that he wants to spend time with Dimitri too.
He just wishes that they weren't having a good time in the snow.
Oh well. Sighing, Claude leans further back against Dimitri's chest, and eyes the massive slope that they're going to be flinging themselves down. There are trees, he notes. Not everywhere, but more than enough of them for him to wonder if this is such a great idea. Dimitri might be able to just barrel through them with that Blaiddyd-strengthened thick skull of his. Claude isn't so fortunate in that department. "We won't go crashing into any trees, right?" he asks.
"I know how to navigate a sled," Dimitri promises, which should be reassuring. It just somehow reminds Claude of the way some people will promise their traveling companions that they don't need to ask for directions, or inspect a map.
That's probably just his own paranoia speaking. Knowing it's probably his own paranoia speaking does not actually do anything for how Claude feels.
Before he can say anything else, delay this any further, Dimitri nudges up against him. "All right, let's not waste anymore time! Here we go!" And he pushes right off, heels digging into the snow and propelling them downwards. Claude doesn't even have a chance to yell; he opens his mouth and the cold air rushes into his throat, straight down his lungs.
As they rush down, the world becomes a blur of white and dark brown, distant greys, and Dimitri's laughter filling up his ears. His eyebrows practically freeze right off, snow kicking up all around them. It's only the scarf bundled up around his neck that keeps at least half of his face safe, and from snow going into his ears. Claude's fingers wrap even harder around the rope connected to the sled, Dimitri's warm hands a careful and unobtrusive weight there.
And it's almost fun.
He thinks of the weight of his wyvern waiting for him back home, under Nader's care, thinks of those wings there at the corner of his vision, and the wind tugging at his clothing as the two of them dive. He thinks of holding himself down low to his horse, racing through desert and open plains, finding a sense of freedom that sometimes seems impossible to reach.
A shout really does tear itself out of his throat this time, exhilaration freeing it from where it was moored inside his lungs.
Which is around the time they almost hit a tree.
Dimitri, at least, really does hold up to what he'd said up there at the top of the hill. He jerks one foot out, reorients their trajectory, and the go blazing past the trunk. Wild laughter starts bubbling out of Claude, trailing behind their wild ride. The rest of the path is clear to them: just beautiful and untouched white. It's over quicker than he thought it would be, although he guesses that's how it always is - soon enough they're sliding to a slow stop, the hill's incline long behind them.
Claude's cheeks are stinging, heat and cold at a clash, and he sinks back against Dimitri's chest. "Well!" he exclaims, and leaves it at that.
There's Dimitri's face against his hair, strewn and made all the more curly from their little rush, and Claude can feel him smile. "See, that was not so bad, now, was it?" he asks, hands letting go of Claude's and the reins in order for him to wrap his arms around his body. It's a show of affection that's a little... bold for what they normally engage in, but, well... Claude doesn't fight him on it.
All he does is lean further into Dimitri's embrace, and allow his eyelids to slide partway down. Past the thin lines of his eyelashes, he watches as his breath curls into something paler than even the snow. "I can see why you like it," he admits. It would be kind of hard for him to lie about it with the way he was laughing and yelling the entire way down. Sure, he could try, but it's so obvious that any attempts would just be embarrassing. "There is a kind of fun rush to going that fast down the hill, and I've definitely warmed up because of it."
If that's from the adrenaline in his body, or Dimitri's arms wrapped around him, it's hard to say.
"We should do it again," Dimitri says, ruining the moment quite soundly, and his laughter rolls against Claude's back at the groan his words earn. "Come now! Even you admitted that you had fun! And once you've gone down the first time, you end up realizing you have a lot of energy that helps you get up the hill in no time flat!"
"We're actually going to hit a tree this time, aren't we? No near misses, just straight into the trunk."
They don't hit a tree this time. Apparently having gone down the hill once is enough for Dimitri to figure out the perfect trajectory so that nothing like that happens again. Needless to say, just once isn't enough for him. They end up going down another two times before the adrenaline ceases to be a good enough safeguard, and Claude finally manages to whine long and loud enough for Dimitri to concede that's enough for the day.
Apparently, Dimitri isn't the only guy with a fondness for freezing temperatures. As they tromp back to the academy, there are other people that are out and about as well despite the snow: couples cuddling together for warmth, those who still stubbornly insist on training or really need to rush down into town for something missed, the ever dependable Gatekeeper who happily salutes them both when they make their way back... Claude even thinks he spots Petra and Felix over at the training grounds, the poor girl shivering out of her skin while Felix just patiently works her through the paces and how to fight in the snow. Claude will have to go find her later, offer up a warm blanket and warmer tea. He can sympathize.
That's just going to have to be a "later" thing. For starters, he thinks Felix would bite off one of his hands if he tries to steal a sparring partner away from him before he was good and ready. For another, well... He has his own business to attend to, now.
Unlike in many other noble manors, Garreg Mach doesn't have individual fireplaces for each student's room, because of course it doesn't. It's a church, and a military academy. The church is poor (you know, for proper living spaces, not for the giant cathedrals and stained glass), and the military, well, toughen up a little bit, why dontcha? Something like that, anyway, probably. Probably it's just because it would also be completely impractical for a school like this.
And yet that hasn't stopped the boys of their floor from finding their own workarounds. All of their rooms have windows. That means all of their rooms have a way of ventilating the smoke from, say, a small brazier that can be fed wood, and have a fire large enough to actually mean anything.
Claude can't actually keep it in his room, more often then not. There's just... He's been a little... Well, you know. Some of the other guys had looked into his room - just a brief peek in from the doorway - and they'd made the collective decision that it was probably for the better if Claude didn't have such an active flame in his room. The last thing any of them needed, after all, was a fire accidentally starting all because he maybe fell asleep or left his room and one of the MANY books there catching alight.
It's fine, really. Sure, he's going to die of misery and hypothermia, but that's why a guy packs a million blankets onto his bed when this kind of weather happens. More importantly, it's why a guy sneaks into his boyfriend's room when it's his turn with the brazier, and reaps the benefits.
That's what the two of them do now, able to slip into Dimitri's room with no one none the wiser. Both of their rooms are in the same hall, almost neighbors. It's quite satisfying, if Claude is honest, to just sink down in front of the brazier as Dimitri gets its flame up and going. There's a lot to say about the ingenuity of humans, Claude is glad to say, and making impromptu chimneys to funnel out a window is one of them. "Now this is what we should have done from the start," he sighs, tucking his hands into his armpits. "I can't believe I let you convince me outside."
Dimitri just grins from where he's fixing the makeshift smoke tunnel to the window. "But you did," he says. "And I really do appreciate it, Claude. I had fun today."
And encouraging Dimitri to have fun is, well. It can be a trial, sometimes. Claude knows why, of course. He's not a fool to the things that are required of a crown prince, knows a vague bit about what kind of culture Faerghus cultivates. And that's all before taking into account Dimitri's own issues. For someone who seeks revenge with a deep and fierce fire, well... Fun is one of the first things to get put back on the shelf.
That kind of thing... Claude considers it for a moment before he slides his hands out, holds them out to the fire. "Give me a second to regain feeling to my fingers," he says, "And I'll go get us some tea, too. That will help warm us up."
It does, too, although probably he's not supposed to bring his tea cup into their dorm rooms. Something, something, etiquette mistake... Whatever. Rules are meant to be broken. This is especially true of etiquette rules, during winter, when no one else can see or judge them. He thought there was a chance that Dimitri would object, but only a chance. While sometimes his boyfriend is a bit of a stiff, when it comes to strict etiquette nonsense, well, he's more willing to relax about it all. The two of them huddle together before the fire, fingers warming up against the porcelain of their cups.
"See?" Dimitri nudges gently, the two of them leaning against each other. "You can only enjoy this kind of warmth after having a romp about in the snow."
"I call complete and utter bullshit, Dimitri," Claude reminds him gently, even as he grins back at him. "Besides, that wasn't the only reason you wanted to run around in the snow. I bet it wasn't even on your list. What, couldn't get any of the Blue Lions in on this hypothermic death wish?"
It's honestly just an off-hand little joke, nothing too serious. Claude had just assumed that Dimitri had made him come along because, well, they're dating, as far away from the public eye as they can manage, and doing silly things together is a part of what happens there. But instead of chuckling, or huffing, or any of that... Dimitri falls silent for a moment, staring at the crackling flames. "Some of my friends and I used to play about in the first snows of the season all the time," Dimitri finally says, hands still in the way they only get when he thinks he's too absentminded to be trusted with anything in the world. "Early enough, and it was seen as safe enough before we all retreated into our homes for the winter. There was even a cabin my father and Rodrigue would occasionally take us to, well, a cabin of sorts... I cannot recall the last time I went there with all of them."
Ah... Claude's smile fades just a little bit over the rim of his cup. He can imagine easily enough just who Dimitri is referring to in this tale. Everyone in Garreg Mach who keeps even the slightest eye on noble interactions is well aware that Dimitri, Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix were all close friends as children. For them to play about in the snow, without a care in the world...
When was the last time they all got together to play like that? They're not that old, none of them are, and yet Claude suspects it's been a lifetime since they were all able to be so happy.
"It has been a long time," Dimitri says, not answering the little miserable mystery Claude is pondering. "And yet, despite that... I still have those memories of us, and the way we were all happy. It may not ever happen again the way that I recall it... But I can still recall it. Sometimes memories are all that one has left." Letting out a slow breath, Dimitri smiles down at him. "I understand it was rather childish, asking you out on such an immature outting.... But I wanted a memory similar to those in my childhood. I want something that shimmers in much the same way as sunlight hitting the snow. I hope... that you don't mind that."
A precious and happy memory, to cradle and hold close, no matter when they go their separate ways or whatever else might happen in the future... "Jeez, Mitya," Claude says, aiming for slight exasperation and unable to really land it. Instead, he's just painfully tender in how he says those two little words. "Sharing a memory like that with you is the furthest thing from a bother on my mind."
Dimitri's smile thaws a little, dares to be hopeful. "Is that so?"
"It is," Claude says, and presses a kiss to Dimitri's jaw. It's almost warm in here. "A complete contrast to the frostbite I might get from running around in the snow."
"Claude! Really, now." And yet Dimitri still laughs, a warmth that fire can't even compare to.
Claude soaks it in.
Dimitri casts a glance back at him, eyes glittering in amusement even as he tugs his cloak properly around his shoulders. "I would say that is a little bit dramatic," he comments, and his mouth twists as he tries not to smile too hard. Jokes on him; Claude can spot the kind of thing from a mile away. "It is just a little bit of snow, Claude."
That is a fucking lie, of course, although Claude wonders if Dimitri realizes how much of a lie it is. The snow that is outside goes higher than Claude's foot, which would be bad enough to start with, and, unfortunately, it then goes far higher than that. He could make a house, with all the snow that's piled up outside. And yet Dimitri doesn't seem to mind this whatsoever. He just smiles calmly as he hands Claude a cloak as well, and Claude glances down at it warily. With how much snow is outside, he's not sure there will ever be enough layers to actually save his poor life. "I need more layers than this, Dimitri."
"You're already wearing a great deal of layers," Dimitri points out. "There are the underlayers, and then your first shirt, and the vest under that, and a jacket, and then a coat-"
Dimitri stops talking when Claude steps forward, and closes his eye happily as Claude cups his face in his hands. It's almost easy to get distracted like this; Dimitri is practiclly a dog happy for physical affection when this sort of thing happens. Unfortunately for both of them, he's not doing this just to be a cute and adorable boyfriend. Rather, once he securely has Dimitri's face in his hands, Claude gives his beautiful and dumb blond head a little shake. "Dimitri, there will never be enough layers for this to be all right," he points out, enunciating each word as clearly as he possibly can.
He's being dead serious here, and yet Dimitri laughs as he's shaken, and, uh, that's just really unfair. That's ridiculously unfair. Dimitri doesn't actually laugh a lot, which seems like a small thing, easy to miss, for anyone who just hangs around him casually. But for Claude, who laughs too much to fill up awkward silences, to make things seem okay when they aren't...
Ugh! How dare Dimitri do this to him. Showing off that rare little treasure that is his laughter, and smiling at him. "It hardly ever snows to this extent this far south," Dimitri tells him, although Garreg Mach is hardly that down south at all. "Come on. It will be fun."
It won't be fun at all. It's going to be absolutely hellish. Claude is going to die. He knows all of this for a fact, and yet, somehow, he still gets suckered in, and ends up being lead through the stone halls and out the front gate of Garreg Mach. Personally, he blames it on Dimitri smiling at him with that damn smile of his while he'd wrapped his own scarf around Claude's neck. They wave at a few people that they know as they make their way, and, soon enough, they're out there far away from any cozy braziers, or fireplaces, or walls that could protect them from the miserable wind...
Claude eyes the coat that Dimitri is wearing underneath his cloak, and ponders if he could fit in it. He probably could. But is it worth the risk of having to deal with some of the armor - gauntlets, mainly - that Dimitri still insists on wearing even in this weather?
While he's debating on the pros and cons, Dimitri looks around before he makes a small noise of acknowledgment. "Ah, there it is," he says, pleased, and goes to move to something that's in one of the few places that's at least a little less snowed in than the rest of the area. That would be because it's underneath a tree, its branches still holding up admirably against the heft of the snowfall that swept over Garreg Mach the night before. Not much of it has fallen to the ground yet... or onto the sled that is waiting there, propped up against the trunk.
"Oh, wow, I just remembered that I have a really important assignment I need to get to for one of Teach's classes," Claude says. "And then maybe die. I can't go sledding with you."
Hefting up the sled with a delicate ease, Dimitri just smiles some more. Claude almost hates it, because he loves it so much, and it's really unfair for Dimitri to use this against him during such a time. A terrible, freezing, gods damn cold damn. "No you don't," Dimitri says, before pausing to amend his words. "Well, you might, but you would have put that off anyway in favor of your own research."
A part of Claude's stomach twists, that no one knows him so well now. It's an almost anxious sort of feeling, but exciting, too. He puts it to the side, for now. After all, if he focused on that feeling every time it happened, well, he'd never get anything done with Dimitri.
At least the cold provides a good incentive for snapping his brain out of his own head. "Be that as it may," he says, "It's going to be miserable. I've gone flying when it's cold, Dimitri. Feeling all that air rushing past your face... It takes so much just to keep holding onto the reins of a wyvern." Just imagining it is enough to make him shudder. At that height, everything is even colder than down on the ground... The skies are the place where snow first forms, after all. It's there that everything is at its coldest.
Of course, he's trained himself to fly in such conditions, but that doesn't mean he has to like it.
Putting the sled down to one hand, Dimitri reaches out with the other one. The world might be cold right now, and yet that's nothing compared to the soft warmth of him that starts to sink through Claude's glove. "We're not up in the skies, Claude," Dimitri reminds him, which is an unfortunately fair point. "And there's one more thing that's different from flying as well."
"And what would that be?" Claude asks, wondering if Dimitri is going to say some clever and asinine little detail that practically doesn't count. Sometimes his sense of humor is really terrible, honestly.
Of course, it's outdone only by Dimitri's earnest romance, and he leans in to touch their foreheads together. In the cold air, it's easy to see the way their breath mingles together, two things becoming one before they disappear. "I'm going to be with you," Dimitri promises him, and looks up at him beneath those pale eyelashes of his. "And I shall keep you warm."
Ugh. Ugh. Unbelievable.
Of course that's how Claude ends up on a sled, at the top of a hill, his heels dug firmly into the snow as Dimitri clambers on behind him. "This is a terrible idea," he reminds Dimitri patiently, resisting the urge to drape his cloak over his head and just curl into a ball. It would just mean he'd end up stuck in the snow even longer, he reminds himself.
"It is going to be wonderful," Dimitri insists, adjusting himself from where he's sitting behind Claude. Just that alone is enough to warm him up, the space of his back now shielded from the cold from that warm body. Claude knew it - he really should have just crawled into Dimitri's coat. That probably wouldn't have solved his current predicament, but it would have made him feel better in the meanwhile. "I am sure that once you actually experience the thrill of sledding, you will hardly think about your cold body at all. I made sure to choose quite a good hill, too."
And he's not wrong, either. Due to its location, Garreg Mach is surrounded by a good few hills. Some of them aren't anything impressive, but others go through quite a bit of forest, too, or are large enough that roads avoid them completely.
Claude wonders when Dimitri first thought to use this spot for sledding, if it pinged him the first day he ever approached the school, or if it was a fit of inspiration as the snowfall washed over the land, coating it in that serene and silencing white. Hey, who knows? Maybe it hit him right as he was looking for what spot to take Claude to. Probably it doesn't really matter in the end.
What matters is that Dimitri is right: this is a pretty good hill, if one is thinking in terms of choosing a hill to sled down. It has a good height to it, and an incline that isn't afraid to go just steep enough while not being so steep that they'd just go forward and then faceplant. Claude is of course not an expert on such things; he's had the self preservation instinct in his life to avoid such snowy and terrible weather ever since he was first introduced to it when he came to Fodlan. But, you know. He has a brain. He can connect 2 and 2 together.
That's kind of the same reason why, while this is a pretty good hill in terms of sledding, it is a terrible hill in terms of things that seek to make his life purposefully miserable.
"You really shouldn't have gone through all the effort, Dimitri," he says dryly.
"Oh, it was hardly any undo effort at all," Dimitri answers back airly, and it's times like this that make him wonder just how much of Dimitri is earnest, and how much of him is well aware that he is full of bullshit and just boulders through any other thought someone tries to snidely make about him well aware that he can get away with such nonsense. It's kind of impressive. "Anyway, I really did want to have a good time with you."
It's a sweet thought, really. Claude can acknowledge that much. And he's not lying in that he wants to spend time with Dimitri too.
He just wishes that they weren't having a good time in the snow.
Oh well. Sighing, Claude leans further back against Dimitri's chest, and eyes the massive slope that they're going to be flinging themselves down. There are trees, he notes. Not everywhere, but more than enough of them for him to wonder if this is such a great idea. Dimitri might be able to just barrel through them with that Blaiddyd-strengthened thick skull of his. Claude isn't so fortunate in that department. "We won't go crashing into any trees, right?" he asks.
"I know how to navigate a sled," Dimitri promises, which should be reassuring. It just somehow reminds Claude of the way some people will promise their traveling companions that they don't need to ask for directions, or inspect a map.
That's probably just his own paranoia speaking. Knowing it's probably his own paranoia speaking does not actually do anything for how Claude feels.
Before he can say anything else, delay this any further, Dimitri nudges up against him. "All right, let's not waste anymore time! Here we go!" And he pushes right off, heels digging into the snow and propelling them downwards. Claude doesn't even have a chance to yell; he opens his mouth and the cold air rushes into his throat, straight down his lungs.
As they rush down, the world becomes a blur of white and dark brown, distant greys, and Dimitri's laughter filling up his ears. His eyebrows practically freeze right off, snow kicking up all around them. It's only the scarf bundled up around his neck that keeps at least half of his face safe, and from snow going into his ears. Claude's fingers wrap even harder around the rope connected to the sled, Dimitri's warm hands a careful and unobtrusive weight there.
And it's almost fun.
He thinks of the weight of his wyvern waiting for him back home, under Nader's care, thinks of those wings there at the corner of his vision, and the wind tugging at his clothing as the two of them dive. He thinks of holding himself down low to his horse, racing through desert and open plains, finding a sense of freedom that sometimes seems impossible to reach.
A shout really does tear itself out of his throat this time, exhilaration freeing it from where it was moored inside his lungs.
Which is around the time they almost hit a tree.
Dimitri, at least, really does hold up to what he'd said up there at the top of the hill. He jerks one foot out, reorients their trajectory, and the go blazing past the trunk. Wild laughter starts bubbling out of Claude, trailing behind their wild ride. The rest of the path is clear to them: just beautiful and untouched white. It's over quicker than he thought it would be, although he guesses that's how it always is - soon enough they're sliding to a slow stop, the hill's incline long behind them.
Claude's cheeks are stinging, heat and cold at a clash, and he sinks back against Dimitri's chest. "Well!" he exclaims, and leaves it at that.
There's Dimitri's face against his hair, strewn and made all the more curly from their little rush, and Claude can feel him smile. "See, that was not so bad, now, was it?" he asks, hands letting go of Claude's and the reins in order for him to wrap his arms around his body. It's a show of affection that's a little... bold for what they normally engage in, but, well... Claude doesn't fight him on it.
All he does is lean further into Dimitri's embrace, and allow his eyelids to slide partway down. Past the thin lines of his eyelashes, he watches as his breath curls into something paler than even the snow. "I can see why you like it," he admits. It would be kind of hard for him to lie about it with the way he was laughing and yelling the entire way down. Sure, he could try, but it's so obvious that any attempts would just be embarrassing. "There is a kind of fun rush to going that fast down the hill, and I've definitely warmed up because of it."
If that's from the adrenaline in his body, or Dimitri's arms wrapped around him, it's hard to say.
"We should do it again," Dimitri says, ruining the moment quite soundly, and his laughter rolls against Claude's back at the groan his words earn. "Come now! Even you admitted that you had fun! And once you've gone down the first time, you end up realizing you have a lot of energy that helps you get up the hill in no time flat!"
"We're actually going to hit a tree this time, aren't we? No near misses, just straight into the trunk."
They don't hit a tree this time. Apparently having gone down the hill once is enough for Dimitri to figure out the perfect trajectory so that nothing like that happens again. Needless to say, just once isn't enough for him. They end up going down another two times before the adrenaline ceases to be a good enough safeguard, and Claude finally manages to whine long and loud enough for Dimitri to concede that's enough for the day.
Apparently, Dimitri isn't the only guy with a fondness for freezing temperatures. As they tromp back to the academy, there are other people that are out and about as well despite the snow: couples cuddling together for warmth, those who still stubbornly insist on training or really need to rush down into town for something missed, the ever dependable Gatekeeper who happily salutes them both when they make their way back... Claude even thinks he spots Petra and Felix over at the training grounds, the poor girl shivering out of her skin while Felix just patiently works her through the paces and how to fight in the snow. Claude will have to go find her later, offer up a warm blanket and warmer tea. He can sympathize.
That's just going to have to be a "later" thing. For starters, he thinks Felix would bite off one of his hands if he tries to steal a sparring partner away from him before he was good and ready. For another, well... He has his own business to attend to, now.
Unlike in many other noble manors, Garreg Mach doesn't have individual fireplaces for each student's room, because of course it doesn't. It's a church, and a military academy. The church is poor (you know, for proper living spaces, not for the giant cathedrals and stained glass), and the military, well, toughen up a little bit, why dontcha? Something like that, anyway, probably. Probably it's just because it would also be completely impractical for a school like this.
And yet that hasn't stopped the boys of their floor from finding their own workarounds. All of their rooms have windows. That means all of their rooms have a way of ventilating the smoke from, say, a small brazier that can be fed wood, and have a fire large enough to actually mean anything.
Claude can't actually keep it in his room, more often then not. There's just... He's been a little... Well, you know. Some of the other guys had looked into his room - just a brief peek in from the doorway - and they'd made the collective decision that it was probably for the better if Claude didn't have such an active flame in his room. The last thing any of them needed, after all, was a fire accidentally starting all because he maybe fell asleep or left his room and one of the MANY books there catching alight.
It's fine, really. Sure, he's going to die of misery and hypothermia, but that's why a guy packs a million blankets onto his bed when this kind of weather happens. More importantly, it's why a guy sneaks into his boyfriend's room when it's his turn with the brazier, and reaps the benefits.
That's what the two of them do now, able to slip into Dimitri's room with no one none the wiser. Both of their rooms are in the same hall, almost neighbors. It's quite satisfying, if Claude is honest, to just sink down in front of the brazier as Dimitri gets its flame up and going. There's a lot to say about the ingenuity of humans, Claude is glad to say, and making impromptu chimneys to funnel out a window is one of them. "Now this is what we should have done from the start," he sighs, tucking his hands into his armpits. "I can't believe I let you convince me outside."
Dimitri just grins from where he's fixing the makeshift smoke tunnel to the window. "But you did," he says. "And I really do appreciate it, Claude. I had fun today."
And encouraging Dimitri to have fun is, well. It can be a trial, sometimes. Claude knows why, of course. He's not a fool to the things that are required of a crown prince, knows a vague bit about what kind of culture Faerghus cultivates. And that's all before taking into account Dimitri's own issues. For someone who seeks revenge with a deep and fierce fire, well... Fun is one of the first things to get put back on the shelf.
That kind of thing... Claude considers it for a moment before he slides his hands out, holds them out to the fire. "Give me a second to regain feeling to my fingers," he says, "And I'll go get us some tea, too. That will help warm us up."
It does, too, although probably he's not supposed to bring his tea cup into their dorm rooms. Something, something, etiquette mistake... Whatever. Rules are meant to be broken. This is especially true of etiquette rules, during winter, when no one else can see or judge them. He thought there was a chance that Dimitri would object, but only a chance. While sometimes his boyfriend is a bit of a stiff, when it comes to strict etiquette nonsense, well, he's more willing to relax about it all. The two of them huddle together before the fire, fingers warming up against the porcelain of their cups.
"See?" Dimitri nudges gently, the two of them leaning against each other. "You can only enjoy this kind of warmth after having a romp about in the snow."
"I call complete and utter bullshit, Dimitri," Claude reminds him gently, even as he grins back at him. "Besides, that wasn't the only reason you wanted to run around in the snow. I bet it wasn't even on your list. What, couldn't get any of the Blue Lions in on this hypothermic death wish?"
It's honestly just an off-hand little joke, nothing too serious. Claude had just assumed that Dimitri had made him come along because, well, they're dating, as far away from the public eye as they can manage, and doing silly things together is a part of what happens there. But instead of chuckling, or huffing, or any of that... Dimitri falls silent for a moment, staring at the crackling flames. "Some of my friends and I used to play about in the first snows of the season all the time," Dimitri finally says, hands still in the way they only get when he thinks he's too absentminded to be trusted with anything in the world. "Early enough, and it was seen as safe enough before we all retreated into our homes for the winter. There was even a cabin my father and Rodrigue would occasionally take us to, well, a cabin of sorts... I cannot recall the last time I went there with all of them."
Ah... Claude's smile fades just a little bit over the rim of his cup. He can imagine easily enough just who Dimitri is referring to in this tale. Everyone in Garreg Mach who keeps even the slightest eye on noble interactions is well aware that Dimitri, Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix were all close friends as children. For them to play about in the snow, without a care in the world...
When was the last time they all got together to play like that? They're not that old, none of them are, and yet Claude suspects it's been a lifetime since they were all able to be so happy.
"It has been a long time," Dimitri says, not answering the little miserable mystery Claude is pondering. "And yet, despite that... I still have those memories of us, and the way we were all happy. It may not ever happen again the way that I recall it... But I can still recall it. Sometimes memories are all that one has left." Letting out a slow breath, Dimitri smiles down at him. "I understand it was rather childish, asking you out on such an immature outting.... But I wanted a memory similar to those in my childhood. I want something that shimmers in much the same way as sunlight hitting the snow. I hope... that you don't mind that."
A precious and happy memory, to cradle and hold close, no matter when they go their separate ways or whatever else might happen in the future... "Jeez, Mitya," Claude says, aiming for slight exasperation and unable to really land it. Instead, he's just painfully tender in how he says those two little words. "Sharing a memory like that with you is the furthest thing from a bother on my mind."
Dimitri's smile thaws a little, dares to be hopeful. "Is that so?"
"It is," Claude says, and presses a kiss to Dimitri's jaw. It's almost warm in here. "A complete contrast to the frostbite I might get from running around in the snow."
"Claude! Really, now." And yet Dimitri still laughs, a warmth that fire can't even compare to.
Claude soaks it in.