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DMCL Week 2024 - Dance
As is only expected, both of them know all the classics when it comes to ballroom dancing. It's just one of those things that any noble worth their salt will instill into their kids almost as much if not more than battling or using one's Crest. Now, granted - that might depend on the success of the noble in question. Some family down on their luck might only know one version of it; Claude has heard Ingrid only knows more to do with that sort of thing thanks to the connections with the Fraldarius family.
Guys like them? They gotta know all the trimmings, all the fanciest little turn of the feet, how to make dancing not just proper but an experience.
At least, that's what Claude heard from his own teacher, who he kind of had to get a speedy lesson through in only utmost secrecy back when he first arrived in Fodlan. He repeats the words (not the circumstances) over to Dimitri one day, while their fellow classmates are trying to win their little dance competition that they've got going on. "Oh," Dimitri says, mildly surprised - or perhaps just interested. "The teacher that I had in my adolescence said very much the same thing. I always imagined that I must have disappointed him in that regard."
"What, got flat feet?" Claude laughs a little bit, already finding the conversation with his fellow house leader to be more engaging than the practice dances they're watching. Probably it looks a bit better when everyone has a proper partner; he can even admit there is a sort of elegance to Fodlish dancing, a kind of simplicity maybe that masks a lot of complex thinking. But he likes Dimitri more, what can he say?
For all that he was just joking, really, Dimitri still huffs a little bit in aggravation and looks away from him. "It is frustrating in other ways," he says, and Claude can guess at least one of those other ways. He's seen the shattered weapons in the training room after all. "And at any rate... I don't care for so many people watching and judging based on something such as dancing. It proves nothing about one's ability in the realm of diplomacy, and is a poor test if they are a fine fighter. What is the point of it?"
Claude whistles low and short. "Jeez, that's a depressing way to look at dancing. But I guess it makes sense." At least, to him, it makes sense in the context of Dimitri's own situation.
Because he gets it, he really does. If there's one thing that he's learned while staying in Fodlan, it's that there's a lot of noble "hobbies" which are really just an excuse to show off to other nobles... at least, that's what it feels like to him. Proof that they in particular have enough time to waste on looking nice and dancing and making that some sort of proof.
Dimitri has goals. Dimitri has some rather passionate ideas on how to make things better in Faerghus, although Claude doesn't think they're fully developed yet. And more importantly, Dimitri is always tirelessly working towards one thing in particular.
It's a real obvious thing he's working towards, too. Obvious enough that Claude has to marvel that so many people don't get it. That so many people are content with going "yeah, that's what happened at the Tragedy" rather than looking to what the one survivor is actually thinking and saying and doing.
So for a guy like that, of course the trivial show-off of dancing and balls is just one more thing that's in the way. And it's not as though he's wrong, at least not with the culture in Fodlan. It really is kind of just a thing for people to show off in or judge for.
But it's a pity, Claude thinks.
When he makes the invitation for Dimitri to watch him practice with wyverns, he's hardly surprised when his fellow house leader practically leaps on the idea. Anything to get away from watching dancing practice, he's pretty sure, but that's fine. This works out for him just fine. "There aren't too many wyverns up north, right?" he asks casually, as he gets his own wyvern ready and saddled up.
Dimitri stands a respectable distance away, admiring the large creature with his gaze sweeping over it from tail to snoot. "No, not too many at all," he confirms. "Our pegasi population is rather thriving, and has been even when the first people went up into those lands. I'm afraid they are rather territorial, all things considered, and so it is rather difficult for wyverns to gain as much of a foothold... all the moreso when the cold is rather inhospitable to most breeds."
"Ha ha, meanwhile, they're just about everywhere I'm from." Claude doesn't mention that where he's from isn't where Dimitri thinks he's from. He's 'fortunate' enough that Dimitri isn't the kind of guy to think to ask on phrasing like that.
There's not much time to chatter about pegasi and wyverns, however. So used to saddling up wyverns, it takes no time at all before Claude is on his partner's back and getting them out into the take-off area for all flying steeds. As his wyvern tenses, ready for flight, he winks over to where Dimitri stands. "Hey, now be sure to watch this pretty carefully, alright?"
And then he's up.
Tucked away on the border between the Alliance and Almyra, his own beloved partner is kept safe and tucked away so that no one can make the connection between his anything and his father. There may only be a few people in the Alliance or anywhere else in Fodlan who could make that connection, but even a little sliver can be enough to undo so much work. All it would take is one tiny rumor slipping into the wrong ear, and, well, that's it, right?
It's almost a shame, really. With her, Claude knows that he would really do so much more. Would really be able to put on a show. Still, just because she would make this better, the two of them knowing each other almost better than he knows his own right hand, that doesn't mean he's incapable of doing something nice and fancy.
All of it is simple, to start with. Some stuff that's all about his wyvern, and how they can twist through the air, make circles cartwheeling across the sky, dive down and then pull back up so sharply that Claude knows it gets the heart racing.
That's the trick to any good performance. You never open up with your strongest act first. It's all lead up, all pacing. Besides, gives him a chance to glance down far back to earth and see if Dimitri is paying attention, if his gaze is still completely locked onto him.
Only then does Claude do the first flip, right up there in the sky, right off of his saddle, and is in glorious freefall for that one moment.
All the spinning and movement and obstruction of giant wyvern wings means he doesn't get to see what expression Dimitri makes exactly in that moment - well, that, and he's so high up in the sky that making out such tiny fine details is probably impossible. But when he finally rights himself, gets ready for the next spin and flip on an actively moving target, he thinks he can see well enough down to earth. He thinks he can see that Dimitri's head is still tilted back, watching him and nothing else.
It's enough for a guy to want to show off just a little.
By the time he comes back down, it's probably been a good hour or so of him just messing around atop his wyvern - spins and flips and precarious positions that he wasn't sure he could do with this one but apparently he can. Definitely long enough for the dance practice to have wrapped up; he supposes he should count his lucky star that lunch is supposed to be right after it. He can only imagine the scolding him and Dimitri would get if it were a class. Sure, he could weather through it just fine because he's had way worse people disappointed in him, but Dimitri? He thinks Dimitri would near just die of embarrassment if that sort of thing happened to him.
Although maybe it's just him thinking about things like that, because he's barely made it off of his wyvern when Dimitri is hurrying over with those blue eyes of his absolutely sparkling. Prettier than the ocean stretching out from any coast whose sands you could stand on. "Claude!" he says breathlessly, hand held up to his chest as though he can keep his own heart contained. "That was incredible!"
This isn't the first time he's gotten praise, although maybe not as much as he'd selfishly like sometimes - there have been some people who have had no issues with telling him that he's skilled with a crossbow or that he does well with wyverns or that he's clever. Certainly he's gotten more praise since coming to Fodlan, although he has to wonder how much of it would still come his way if the truth were known.
Yet something about the way Dimitri says it makes his heart pump hard against the inside of his chest, harder than it ever did when he was higher than some buildings there on his wyvern, harder than when his life was potentially on the line.
Somehow, he manages to get some words past the eager beat of his heart, and makes them almost sound casual as well. "Just a little something picked up from being in the Alliance," he says. "There's a lot of things picked up from being neighbors with Almyra - that happens a lot with border countries honestly. Although Almyra doesn't put such a social status on being good at dancing quite like they do in Fodlan, from what I understand." From what he knows.
"And so they are able to practice it for the love and pride of the craft for their own, rather than using it as social status like we do," Dimitri says, and Claude is glad he picked up on that much, at least. That's all he has a chance to really be glad on before Dimitri looks at him straight on with those ocean-blue eyes and says, all awe and appreciation, "Truly it has made you the most beautiful thing in all the skies, Claude."
"-and so what would you say that means, when it's one man saying that to another man? Just as a hypothetical."
Hilda tucks some of her cheesy stew into her cheek, and grins over at him. "I'd think it would mean that he wants to end the Reigan bloodline," she says cheekily.
Guys like them? They gotta know all the trimmings, all the fanciest little turn of the feet, how to make dancing not just proper but an experience.
At least, that's what Claude heard from his own teacher, who he kind of had to get a speedy lesson through in only utmost secrecy back when he first arrived in Fodlan. He repeats the words (not the circumstances) over to Dimitri one day, while their fellow classmates are trying to win their little dance competition that they've got going on. "Oh," Dimitri says, mildly surprised - or perhaps just interested. "The teacher that I had in my adolescence said very much the same thing. I always imagined that I must have disappointed him in that regard."
"What, got flat feet?" Claude laughs a little bit, already finding the conversation with his fellow house leader to be more engaging than the practice dances they're watching. Probably it looks a bit better when everyone has a proper partner; he can even admit there is a sort of elegance to Fodlish dancing, a kind of simplicity maybe that masks a lot of complex thinking. But he likes Dimitri more, what can he say?
For all that he was just joking, really, Dimitri still huffs a little bit in aggravation and looks away from him. "It is frustrating in other ways," he says, and Claude can guess at least one of those other ways. He's seen the shattered weapons in the training room after all. "And at any rate... I don't care for so many people watching and judging based on something such as dancing. It proves nothing about one's ability in the realm of diplomacy, and is a poor test if they are a fine fighter. What is the point of it?"
Claude whistles low and short. "Jeez, that's a depressing way to look at dancing. But I guess it makes sense." At least, to him, it makes sense in the context of Dimitri's own situation.
Because he gets it, he really does. If there's one thing that he's learned while staying in Fodlan, it's that there's a lot of noble "hobbies" which are really just an excuse to show off to other nobles... at least, that's what it feels like to him. Proof that they in particular have enough time to waste on looking nice and dancing and making that some sort of proof.
Dimitri has goals. Dimitri has some rather passionate ideas on how to make things better in Faerghus, although Claude doesn't think they're fully developed yet. And more importantly, Dimitri is always tirelessly working towards one thing in particular.
It's a real obvious thing he's working towards, too. Obvious enough that Claude has to marvel that so many people don't get it. That so many people are content with going "yeah, that's what happened at the Tragedy" rather than looking to what the one survivor is actually thinking and saying and doing.
So for a guy like that, of course the trivial show-off of dancing and balls is just one more thing that's in the way. And it's not as though he's wrong, at least not with the culture in Fodlan. It really is kind of just a thing for people to show off in or judge for.
But it's a pity, Claude thinks.
When he makes the invitation for Dimitri to watch him practice with wyverns, he's hardly surprised when his fellow house leader practically leaps on the idea. Anything to get away from watching dancing practice, he's pretty sure, but that's fine. This works out for him just fine. "There aren't too many wyverns up north, right?" he asks casually, as he gets his own wyvern ready and saddled up.
Dimitri stands a respectable distance away, admiring the large creature with his gaze sweeping over it from tail to snoot. "No, not too many at all," he confirms. "Our pegasi population is rather thriving, and has been even when the first people went up into those lands. I'm afraid they are rather territorial, all things considered, and so it is rather difficult for wyverns to gain as much of a foothold... all the moreso when the cold is rather inhospitable to most breeds."
"Ha ha, meanwhile, they're just about everywhere I'm from." Claude doesn't mention that where he's from isn't where Dimitri thinks he's from. He's 'fortunate' enough that Dimitri isn't the kind of guy to think to ask on phrasing like that.
There's not much time to chatter about pegasi and wyverns, however. So used to saddling up wyverns, it takes no time at all before Claude is on his partner's back and getting them out into the take-off area for all flying steeds. As his wyvern tenses, ready for flight, he winks over to where Dimitri stands. "Hey, now be sure to watch this pretty carefully, alright?"
And then he's up.
Tucked away on the border between the Alliance and Almyra, his own beloved partner is kept safe and tucked away so that no one can make the connection between his anything and his father. There may only be a few people in the Alliance or anywhere else in Fodlan who could make that connection, but even a little sliver can be enough to undo so much work. All it would take is one tiny rumor slipping into the wrong ear, and, well, that's it, right?
It's almost a shame, really. With her, Claude knows that he would really do so much more. Would really be able to put on a show. Still, just because she would make this better, the two of them knowing each other almost better than he knows his own right hand, that doesn't mean he's incapable of doing something nice and fancy.
All of it is simple, to start with. Some stuff that's all about his wyvern, and how they can twist through the air, make circles cartwheeling across the sky, dive down and then pull back up so sharply that Claude knows it gets the heart racing.
That's the trick to any good performance. You never open up with your strongest act first. It's all lead up, all pacing. Besides, gives him a chance to glance down far back to earth and see if Dimitri is paying attention, if his gaze is still completely locked onto him.
Only then does Claude do the first flip, right up there in the sky, right off of his saddle, and is in glorious freefall for that one moment.
All the spinning and movement and obstruction of giant wyvern wings means he doesn't get to see what expression Dimitri makes exactly in that moment - well, that, and he's so high up in the sky that making out such tiny fine details is probably impossible. But when he finally rights himself, gets ready for the next spin and flip on an actively moving target, he thinks he can see well enough down to earth. He thinks he can see that Dimitri's head is still tilted back, watching him and nothing else.
It's enough for a guy to want to show off just a little.
By the time he comes back down, it's probably been a good hour or so of him just messing around atop his wyvern - spins and flips and precarious positions that he wasn't sure he could do with this one but apparently he can. Definitely long enough for the dance practice to have wrapped up; he supposes he should count his lucky star that lunch is supposed to be right after it. He can only imagine the scolding him and Dimitri would get if it were a class. Sure, he could weather through it just fine because he's had way worse people disappointed in him, but Dimitri? He thinks Dimitri would near just die of embarrassment if that sort of thing happened to him.
Although maybe it's just him thinking about things like that, because he's barely made it off of his wyvern when Dimitri is hurrying over with those blue eyes of his absolutely sparkling. Prettier than the ocean stretching out from any coast whose sands you could stand on. "Claude!" he says breathlessly, hand held up to his chest as though he can keep his own heart contained. "That was incredible!"
This isn't the first time he's gotten praise, although maybe not as much as he'd selfishly like sometimes - there have been some people who have had no issues with telling him that he's skilled with a crossbow or that he does well with wyverns or that he's clever. Certainly he's gotten more praise since coming to Fodlan, although he has to wonder how much of it would still come his way if the truth were known.
Yet something about the way Dimitri says it makes his heart pump hard against the inside of his chest, harder than it ever did when he was higher than some buildings there on his wyvern, harder than when his life was potentially on the line.
Somehow, he manages to get some words past the eager beat of his heart, and makes them almost sound casual as well. "Just a little something picked up from being in the Alliance," he says. "There's a lot of things picked up from being neighbors with Almyra - that happens a lot with border countries honestly. Although Almyra doesn't put such a social status on being good at dancing quite like they do in Fodlan, from what I understand." From what he knows.
"And so they are able to practice it for the love and pride of the craft for their own, rather than using it as social status like we do," Dimitri says, and Claude is glad he picked up on that much, at least. That's all he has a chance to really be glad on before Dimitri looks at him straight on with those ocean-blue eyes and says, all awe and appreciation, "Truly it has made you the most beautiful thing in all the skies, Claude."
"-and so what would you say that means, when it's one man saying that to another man? Just as a hypothetical."
Hilda tucks some of her cheesy stew into her cheek, and grins over at him. "I'd think it would mean that he wants to end the Reigan bloodline," she says cheekily.