abraxaslogs | ( catch-all ) the more that i see myself

Darn, I was so close.

[ He plays at being dismayed, but his dimples are peeking out around his grin as he comes back to her bedside, grabbing a nearby stool and sliding it over so he can perch beside her.

Reaching out, he rests a hand gently on her knee still hidden beneath the blankets. ]

How are you feeling?

[ The dimple is infectious and it catches on her face, bolstering her mood. Her fingers run over the sure folds of the rabbit, half tempted by habit to unfold it immediately to read whatever note could be inside.

Once his paper creations had been unfolded she had taken it upon herself to puzzle out how to fold them back into place. Some of them she knew how to thanks to her dabbling in paper craft but others, like this rabbit, would pose more of a challenge. But she had risen to the occasion if the tidy little collection she had in the large glass jar beside her bed is any indication. Whether or not that was an outcome Sylvain had accounted is something she can't say, but she's grateful for something to keep her hands busy.

At his question, hesitation ripples through her but doesn't manage to dislodge the sleepy cheerfulness from her voice. ]

A little better than yesterday thanks to your healing.

[ There's a brief pause like she might continue, but instead she holds up the little rabbit. ]

Do I get a hint about what's in the note today?

[ He just casts her a playful wink as he gives her knee another light squeeze, determined to give nothing away. ]

You could just read it and find out.

[ The message is a simple one today. And a little different than the ones that had come before. I have a surprise for you, when you’re feeling up to it, she’ll find the words carefully written inside the little folded bunny. Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll be there, quick as a bunny.

If it had been his own private joke of dangling a carrot in front of her today to keep her cheerful and upbeat, well. That was still his secret. Probably. ]

[ Delight lights up her eyes. It seems that's all the permission she had been waiting for. Her hands make quick work of the folds but she's gentle, not wanting to damage it in any way. ]

Well I didn't want to be rude or anything. You know how rude it is just open a gift in someone I thought this might be the same idea.

[ She babbles slightly, in part because while she knows she can't escape being in the loft anymore for obvious reasons, that doesn't mean she's found a comfortable way to slip back into her interactions with both Claude and Sylvain.

When the message is revealed she lets out a small gasp of glee despite herself. Hurt or not, Hilda loved a surprise. It also serves to create more distance between herself and the lingering remnants of the nightmare. ]

A surprise? Is it here? In the loft?

[ He grins as her excitement grows, watching as she unfolds the note and reads his message. At her delighted question, he just gives her a pleased nod, still playing up the mystery of her surprise. ]

It is. Think you’re feeling up to it? I can always save it for later if you’re not.

[ For a brief moment she almost looks offended at his consideration towards her and her well being. She straightens up, immediately running her hands through her hair in an attempt to make herself look more presentable than she currently is even though ]

No, no, I'm ready.

[ She can't see the state of herself but knows that it will have to do along with hope that they don't have any visitors to the loft right now. At the very least her hair is clean - she had cajoled them into helping her wash her hair the other day after being unable to bear the unwashed, gritty feeling any longer - so she knows it doesn't smell.

There is another matter though. ]

I might be able to walk. I think. I might just be slow.

[ He cocks his head to the side for a moment as he studies her thoughtfully. ]

Alright, then, Princess, you get your choice. You can walk to your surprise or I can carry you there, I don’t mind either one. Which would make you happier this morning?

[ In the past she wouldn't hesitate at all to have someone carry her. It fell right in line with her lazy tendencies even if it did sometimes backfire on her (see: the one and only time she challenged Steve because she was trying to get out of training), but then again, she hadn't been doted on this much for almost a week and had lingering guilt to boot.

The guilt is enough to make her go with the former of Sylvain's choices and she rolls her eyes playfully. ]

Nothing happened to my legs, Sylvain. I can walk short distances.

[ Key word being short which is also an answer she would have given before and after her injury. Ever so slowly she nudges the blankets off of her, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Her bare feet touch the floor and she stands, letting out a breath as some pain ripples through her. She makes it several steps before she falters, a hand going to her ribs and she has to take in what she hopes is a quiet intake of breath. ]

Easy.

[ He’s standing by, watching with a patient gaze that misses nothing as she moves, well aware of how painful broken ribs are when they heal. As much as he wants to help, he’s willing to stand by until she asks him for it, letting her decide what she did and didn’t want right now.

He does, however, offer her his arm with a playful flourish. ]

It isn’t far. Just down the hall to my room. And if you change your mind, I’m still happy to play the part of your carriage, my lady.

I'm not a horse, Sylvain.

[ The response is automatic, tinged with an exasperated laugh even as the pain begins to dissipate. All of her injuries had always been superficial, never enough to keep her down and out for very long so all of this is a new experience for her. It's one that she hopes to never repeat.

As she straightens up she looks towards him and his playfully outstretched arm. An amused smile replaces the wince. ]

You're too much. But we might get there faster if you carry me.

Actually, I'm pretty sure I implied I was gonna be that, too, but you know what? That's not important.

[ He chuckles as he turns to face her again, giving her a playful wink. ]

Alright. I just need you to close your eyes for me, then. So I can get you to your surprise. No peeking!

[ He's afraid of hurting her, lifting her from this position. It would have been easier from the bed, but he doesn't say anything about it. Merely bends down to scoop her up in his arms - and deliver a well-timed healing spell to hit her the same moment he lifts, so any discomfort gets soothed over before she can even register it. ]

Actually you said carriage but [ She pauses, her grin spreading across her face. ] you would make a very gallant stead. Claude and Jesper are lucky.

[ The ability to joke again is a sign that she's both on the mend and trying her best to slip back into an old familiarity that she felt had been stilted since her departure from the loft. The last thing she says of course is less teasing and more genuine – when she had resolved to be less jealous, less greedy, she had meant it.

There's little time to dwell on that though as she closes her eyes just as Sylvain sweeps her off the feet. The healing spell is a good call. It mitigates the slight jostle of pain and the wince that follows. It's enough to allow her to loosely wrap her arms around his neck without feeling the slight pull or tender flesh still knitting itself together.

She puts on a pout. ]

I'm hurt you think that I'd ruin a well planned surprise. They take so much effort to plan.

Was that you asking to ride me? I’m sure that can be arranged when you’re feeling better.

[ You really didn’t expect him to not take that bait when you dangled it there so temptingly for him, did you?

Carrying her out of the room and down the hall towards his room, being careful not to jostle her any along the way, he glances down to make sure she’s closed her eyes as requested. And can’t help but grin a little at her pout, since she’s as adorable as ever, even if that wasn’t her intent.

Slipping into is room, he gives one last assessing glance around to make sure everything was as he wanted it. Satisfied, he bends down to brush his lips against her ear in a soft murmur. ]

Okay, you can open your eyes now.

[ She’s been in his room plenty of times before, so she knows how it normally looks. At the moment, the neat and tidy - almost spartan - bedroom is nowhere in appearance.

Instead, there’s a richly-colored swath of fabric in shades of violets and blues suspended from the ceiling, descending down over either side of his bed, enclosing it in, almost like a little tent, with only the front open. His bed is made, but spread over top looks to be a picnic blanket, with a selection of sweets and baked treats tucked away and waiting to be enjoyed.

He’d dragged in a couple of the potted shrubs and flowering plants from the terrace and they filled the room with a soft floral scent mixed with the crisp bite of pine. The settee’s been shifted a little in front of the fireplace and there’s more treats set aside there, maybe to be roasted over the crackling flames in the hearth.

The room was dimly lit, just enough light cast from the sconces on the wall to illuminate what he’d done in a soft glow. But not enough to diminish the effects of the little artistic lantern he’d picked up in Libertas a while back. The one that spun slowly and cast its light through little shapes up on the walls and ceiling, creating a swirling array of stars all around them.

He gives her time to take it in, letting her gaze skim over each little spot, watching for her reaction, before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. ]

I knew you must be bored, being cooped up inside and staring at the same walls all day. And while I didn’t want to risk taking you out somewhere just yet, I thought I could bring the ‘somewhere else’ to you instead. Besides. [ He adds this with a cheeky grin and a wink. ] This version of camping has way less bugs.

[ Half of her really should have expected that response. Thankfully being half prepared means that she only partially reacts to the comment with only the faintest colour on her cheeks. Her practice of trying to dismiss pesky feelings is aided by falling back on old habits of telling herself that he only means it playfully. A pink eye slides open to give him a brief look before it quickly squeezes shut again.

Dissipating, pretending, whatever verb she might use to describe trying to convince herself not to tumble deeper into a pit of unimaginable tenderness for him is all the more difficult when several things happen. The brush of his lips against the shell of her ear sends an involuntary shiver up her spine, one that she knows she won't be able to hide while she's in the crook of his arms like this. The second thing is that when she finally does open her eyes to see the surprise he had set up for her, she's at a loss for words. A well of emotions swells within her and she lets out a short breath of awe.

It's clear that the setup had taken some level of effort and thought to put together. Everything from the draped fabrics and blankets, the plants from the balcony being dragged in to create the illusion of being outdoors, the low burning fireplace making the fading summer heat less palpable to the lantern that sends constellations dancing around them all feels like he's created something just for them. Each element is so meticulously thought out that she can practically see him pulling everything together. Her mouth twitches slightly as her eyes search his face. How does one express delight, embarrassment, and affection all at once? ]

Sylvain...

[ She can't help but feel undeserving of all of it, 'it' including his attention, the amount of energy he had put into not just this but all of the notes he had left for her too. Efforts like this are better served for others that he's actually with. ]

You didn't have to do all of this. The balcony would have been more than enough, you know.

[ He can feel the rush of emotions from her as he takes in her reactions, watching her take it all in before she looks up to him. Searches his expression too.

He just smiles fondly at her, and then chuckles at her weak protest. Bending his head towards her again, he presses a kiss to her brow before carrying her over towards his bed. ]

It might have been enough. But the Princess deserves only the best entertainments, after all. Of course I needed to go all out. Are you saying you don’t like it?

[ Both the kiss to her brow and his teasing words bring a flush to her cheeks deeper than the one before. She's quick to amend herself and her eyes blow wide open which is probably exactly the sort of reaction Sylvain had been hoping to get from her. ]

What? No! Of course I like it. I love it actually. No one's ever done something like this for me before.

[ That doesn't make all of this any less embarrassing however. There's no reason for it to be as embarrassing as it is. A younger version of herself, one that Sylvain knew at the Academy, probably wouldn't have felt a fraction of the sheepishness that she did now. Maybe it's because there's so much more that's happened between them now than before. Maybe it's because she never would have taken this seriously before when it's all she's desperately trying to do now.

Whatever the reason she's being truthful. She can count the number of times someone has gone to such lengths to do something kind like this. Sheepishness reaches across her face. It's so unlike her not to gush or fawn over a present or something someone had done for her. ]

You've already done so much you didn't have to do this too.

Mmm, but I wanted to, so you’ll just have to accept it and have fun with it.

[ He informs her of this with a cheeky wink as he carries her over towards his bed, where the picnic is laid out for her. ]

Besides. Something tells me this is as close as I’d ever get you to real camping anyway.

I would go camping!

[ The protest is immediate, a combination of exasperation towards his carefree, "I'll do what I want anyway," attitude and the assumption that she wouldn't go camping. Sure, there's plenty she doesn't love the idea of including the bugs, the dirt, or...well, trekking everywhere with all of their things which may as well account for the entire experience of camping but that's not the point. As they arrive at the bed she seems to pause, reconsidering her answer. ]

I would go camping under the right conditions and during a war hardly seems like ideal conditions. Holst used to pitch a tent in the fields at home during the summer and we'd sleep out there – that's kind of the same thing, right?

[ She almost adds that it wouldn't be so bad either if Sylvain were there but she stops herself short. Wishful broad strokes of the future is a slippery slope. ]

But if it meant I got to see the stars, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. [ There's a pause as she looks at him curiously. ] Did you go camping when you were younger? Is that how you came up with this?

[ He gives a thoughtful hum as he carefully sets her down on the picnic blanket, and then props his hands to either side of her hips as he grins down at her. ]

Something like that. I did go camping a lot when I was younger, or when we were on a campaign. But it was the summer I turned… seven, I think? Maybe eight. I’d broken my leg pretty badly and I was stuck in bed recovering for several weeks because the healers could only do so much. And I was about as good a patient back then as I am now.

Anyway, Cook always had a soft spot for me and she started bringing picnic lunches up to my bed, since I couldn’t go outside and play. Some of the other servants caught on to the game and turned it into a whole secret thing. They strung up a tent and a few of them would stop in to play pretend every now and again. One of the stableboys even snuck me in one of the cats out of the barn to keep me company.

[ It’s not often a story from home will give him that sort of fond smile. Even if there had been a hint of a shadow there at the very beginning of the tale. But he grins down at her and bops her nose lightly with a finger. ]

I think it might have been one of my favorite summers ever, despite the fact that I was stuck in bed. I figured I could at least maybe use the experience to help you, too.

Well who wouldn't have a soft spot for you? If I were there I would have kept you company as long as you wouldn't mind making flower crowns and daisy chains.

[ Every tidbit that she is gifted about his past never fails to make her pay a little more attention than she may have been before. Getting to know people in general is something she adores – but memorizing Sylvain, the parts that he willingly shared with her, was akin to memorizing the words to poetry or a song. It was easy, effortless; something she did willingly and happily. This story and the accompanying softness to his face are no exceptions to that. The expression on his face is infectious and soon hers mirrors his.

But the story and the fondness behind it makes her wonder, not for the first time, what his childhood had really been like because the detail about his badly broken leg doesn't go unnoticed. He glazes over it, sandwiching it between other details of a sweet memory that she almost thinks it's by design. Except it's more likely than not something he's merely conditioned to do much like how she magics away anything that doesn't fall into the category of delicate flower.

The boop on the nose has her wrinkling it but it's quickly smoothed away as she gazes up at him, framed by his arms. ]

A broken leg so bad a healer couldn't fix it? What kind of trouble were you getting up to?

Edited 2023-09-10 08:08 (UTC)

[ He freezes for half a heartbeat, realizing that giving her that context for why he’d been stuck in bed had probably been a mistake. He didn’t want today to hold the grim darkness that had been so much of his childhood, which is why he’d purposefully chosen one of his happier memories to share with her. But it was hard to disconnect the two, even for him.

He lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly, giving a little laugh and a grin, as if he’d been caught. ]

Well, he did fix it, I just needed to let it rest and not put weight on it for some time so the bone could keep healing the rest of the way. I did tell you I was a pretty clumsy kid, before. I was always getting into some sort of trouble. I did some pretty stupid things because of dares or just to see if I could.

[ Which was… true enough. Even though as a whole, it had been a lie he’d been telling his entire life. Just enough truth entwined with it to make it believable without prodding someone to look any closer. Nothing to see here.

Not wanting her to dwell on that, though, he playfully drops a kiss on the tip of her nose before stretching to reach back behind her and drag forward one of the little containers waiting with her picnic, giving her a bright grin. ]

I tried out a new recipe this morning. Something I thought you’d like. I hope?

[ Because she’s watching his face, and only because she’s watching him, it’s clear to her now that she’s touched lightly on something that he didn’t mean to expose. Instinct has her wanting to lightly run her fingers over this scar, to kiss it gently and tell him that it’s okay, it’s safe here with her. The added sheepishness that comes over him doesn’t help quell that urge any less.

Her instincts feel like they are in complete disregard for what her rational brain tells her. A hand begins to move, reaching out towards his cheek to gently caress it when she’s stopped short. She’s interrupted by the kiss her nose and the promise of baked goods. Both those things alone aren’t enough to distract her completely. Hilda’s attention isn’t so short that she forgets things that are shown to her. While she wants to ask more about this story he looks so hopeful, so excited about trying to please her, and probably distract her, that she finds herself at a crossroad. It’s in that moment that her doubtful voice returns, telling her that if he is going to tell anyone, it wouldn’t be her. That’s enough to convince her not to pursue it, at least for now.

A relenting smile flickers to her lips that is soon joined by a bright curiosity towards the container. She can’t resist a baked good, especially if it’s something Sylvain had made. Teasingly she grins. ]

So that was all the clattering I heard in the kitchen. What is it? You’ll have some with me, right?

Weeeeell…

[ He drags the word out teasingly as he opens the container and plucks out one of the cookies from within, its surface spattered with a vibrant reddish-pink hue, just for her.

He grins as he holds it up to her lips. ]

I suppose I can eat one or two. If you feel like sharing. Here, try it?

Edited 2023-09-11 00:38 (UTC)

[ The distinct smell of sugar and raspberries is released from the container and it smells absolutely divine. Her mouth waters. She had always had a sweet tooth. A sweet tooth for a sweet, delicate flower, is what the staff had always said when they snuck her extra sweets.

She lets out a slight squeal that manages to grate just enough on her still healing vocal chords. And while the pain is minimal and makes her briefly wince, it isn't enough to diminish her excitement and delight.

In spite of her initial reaction, when the cookie is raised to her lips, Hilda can’t help but give Sylvain a brief look of, “Really?” ]

You know I can feed myself, right?

[ But there’s a smile playing on the corner of her lips and she doesn’t hesitate in taking a small bite of it. A sweet and tart myriad dances across her tongue as the raspberries mingle with the taste of something else. She holds a hand in front of her mouth, still too polite to show that she’s speaking with a mouthful of cookie. ]

Is there lemon in this too?

[ He winces along with her over her own discomfort, reaching out to brush his fingers against her cheek. And maybe to shoot off one more tiny healing spell at the same time.

As for the accusation of him feeding her, he just grins at her unrepentantly. ]

I know you can.

[ He’s still holding the cookie to her lips anyway. ]

There is. What do you think?

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