abraxaslogs | [ CLOSED ] the dawn is opening

[ They've been home from the Nether for a few days now and things have been... relatively normal. Quiet. If Sylvain's been a little more subdued, he's done his best to hide it behind a smile, or the activities that make him happiest. The ones that make him feel useful around the Loft.

Part of that is interrupted by the renovations starting over on the Inn, which he's thrown himself into wholeheartedly. But this particular afternoon, he's home, out on the terrace and working with some of the plants he's gotten off of Jaskier, to expand his herb and spice collection. Lost in his own thoughts and hands buried in the dirt, he doesn't realize that he's being subtly and stealthily corralled in by his well-meaning roommates.

The fact that he is so deeply lost in his own thoughts that he doesn't even notice is probably just one more reason why they're feeling the need to do that in the first place. ]

[ It had admittedly taken some convincing on Claude's part to get Hilda to join him in this little intervention. Her reluctance had been made known in a not-so-subtle way not because she didn't care about Sylvain's wellbeing in any capacity, but rather she's still convinced that Claude would be better suited to handle this conversation on his own in spite of Sylvain saying that was a bad idea.

But her concern and worry had outgrown this ill-placed idea which explains her presence today.

This starts out the way most of their schemes: Hilda softening up their unsuspecting victim and luring them into a sense of security. Is this manipulative? Maybe. But it would only be that way for the shortest amount of time while Claude ensured Sylvain wouldn't be able to escape, hence the conversation on the terrace. Short of leaping from the balcony (which they did actually have a contingency plan for on the off chance the Faerghan tried to pull that boneheaded move), Sylvain wouldn't be able to leave easily.

She arrives with little fanfare, crouching down beside him to make her presence known. Her head lays easily on his shoulder, peering up from under her lashes. ]

There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you.

[ Meanwhile, inside the loft:

Even though Sylvain's been plenty distracted which wasn't difficult to tell, especially with being outside for so long and mostly quiet on top of that, Claude made a point of going out for the afternoon. Supposedly.

What'd really happened was he'd left, wandered around the block a time or two, and then had Hilda let him back in as discussed. The perfect way to pull off their plan, really, since when she steps outside? That's when he started wandering around the loft applying ice to the windows to seal them shut. Specifically the ones facing the terrace where one might attempt to climb through them; while he hadn't known about this power prior to experimenting around in the Nether, it's certainly coming in handy now to encase all those surfaces so the latches are completely covered and the panes are encased.

The doors are next until all that's left is the last one right after he slips out of it for Perry to take over from there. ]

Both of us were. [ Said very cheerfully to announce his presence, and just to confirm that they're completely up to something even before Sylvain gets to see the temporary winter(ish) (semi-)wonderland across the wall behind them all. ] Lucky for all of us that you're out here, really. How's it going out here?

[ Just keeping it Totally Casual™ ]

[ …

………

Yeah you guys aren’t acting suspiciously at all.

Sylvain squints at them both as he leans back on his heels, dirty hands coming to rest on the knees of his pants as he glances between the two of them.

His mind’s already racing, trying to figure out why they’re out here acting so suspiciously. ]

…If you burned down part of my kitchen, no, I don’t forgive you. But if you’re here because you’re finally taking me up on the threesome sex in the shower, I’m game.

[ There, that covers a pretty broad spectrum. ]

Edited 2023-11-19 04:11 (UTC)

[ As soon as Claude steps outside, Perry gets to work. Hilda might not never have agreed to heavy lifting but Perry thankfully doesn't have an opinion. Heavier items - coffee tables, chairs, a dresser - are slowly but surely dragged into place in front of the doors from the terrace into the loft. And in front of the iced out windows? Boxes stacked with heavy books courtesy of their messy, book-loving roommate.

In spite of all this heavy lifting an extension of herself is doing, Hilda's saccharine sweet expression doesn't shift. ]

Oh, Sylvain. [ Her sing-song, almost giggly reply is immediately punctuated by a playful (hard) shove of his shoulder that may or may not be enough to knock him off balance. ] No and no. We just wanted to come and see what you were up to. You've been gone all day.

[ Said as if Claude hadn't also been "out" all day and she hadn't been napping in her room this entire time. How else was she supposed to manage her nerves if not trying to stifle them with a nap? At least she looked well rested and Completely Innocent. ]

How is the plant coming along?

Yeah, you didn't really think you could avoid us by hiding in the plants, did you?

[ It's said playfully and maybe with a hint of truth in there to match Hilda's tone in a routine they're very good at from years of running this act together in getting someone to come around to what they want.

Or something more than a hint, of which Claude has no doubt Sylvain will pick up on. No harm in making Sylvain aware that They Have Noticed what's going on - and have since the Featherhive, but they can get to that in a minute - as Claude crosses the terrace at the same casually ambling speed he'd started with to come lean against a shelving unit of gardening supplies. There's also a show of peering about at the work done from what Sylvain's been up to, before he looks back to the man in question with a smile.

A friendly one, certainly, but also with the undertone of you're not avoiding this to it even as he holds up a hand with a palm to the sky like he's offering a plea. (He's not.) ]

Maybe we just want to spend time with you. You've been a little busy as of late, so what better way to fix that than for us to come to you?

But it's been working so well so far.

[ His voice is as dry as the desert around them as his gaze continues to flit between the two of them, suspicions rising now as they keep up their back-and-forth. Oh yeah. He recognizes this tactic all too well, even if they didn't employ it on him that often. He's not sure if they ever have, actually. Not seriously, anyway. ]

I wasn't gone all day. [ Just this morning. When hiding at the stables sounded more appealing. Only Bridgette had kicked him out because she claimed his moping was depressing her horses. Even if he hadn't been moping. Now he wondered if these two had something to do with that. ]

And out here isn't really hard to find. There's like a hundred windows just over...

[ He goes to gesture at the wall of windows showing into their Loft... and pauses when finally sees the frost decorating the glass. It is definitely nowhere near cold enough for frost and his gaze narrows in suspicion even further, brows lowering slightly before he gives the pair currently attempting to herd him for unknown reasons a pointed Look. ]

Alright, what's going on?

Do you know how big this loft is?

[ If the answer is anything but, "Big enough to get lost in and also lose your other roommates in!", Hilda doesn't want to hear it because it won't help them (she and Claude) with this particular argument. Really though if she's being honest, some days it does feel far too large, particularly when she's trying to hunt down lizards who have decided to scamper off into nooks and crannies after she takes her eyes off of them for one moment.

Besides, her answer has everything to do with the fact that Sylvain has quickly caught onto their intentions. Or at least half of them. Her eyes flit towards Claude trying not to lose some of that momentum that she had napped specifically for in preparation for this moment. Her preference for scheming silly things like the lead up to this will always be vastly preferred to talking about serious subjects, and unfortunately Claude had convinced her that she would be a better instigator of this conversation than he would. Some of her glinting mischievousness fades into cautious worry. ]

We just wanted to check up on you.

[ Better, but not necessarily softer since there's no tactful way to say, "We're worried after hearing everything the birds dragged out of your memories and I don't think I should be here for this conversation but at least if I can get the ball rolling for you two, I can have Perry move some heavy boxes for me to crawl through a window and leave you two alone." ]

You haven't really been yourself since the Featherhive.

And if you're about to start saying you're fine, we've heard that one before.

[ That's still said with casual cheerfulness belying the words themselves. It might also be helped out by that look on Sylvain's face upon seeing the ice keeping all of them out here. That or them being said like this is just any old statement possibly makes them sound like more of a vague threat than they're meant to be. What Claude really means is that even if he's still half (or mostly) expecting an evasion - it's not one either one of them is prepared to believe, nor had they believed it in the Featherhive.

But: he's also learned enough about Sylvain to know that's not an effective way to get him to open up, just the same as it wouldn't be if he chose to press Hilda on something she'd rather evade. Fortunately, they have nothing but time out here since Claude's also fairly certain neither he or Hilda have any intention of letting him escape. ]

More than that, it's alright that you're not after everything past or present.

[ Because that also needs to be repeated, Claude thinks, even if his hopes are low on whether Sylvain will truly listen to that this time around. Now all that's left is to wait to see what response they'll get and to go from there. ]

And this required you freezing all the windows shut and locking me on the terrace… why, exactly? You could have just asked.

[ There’s patient exasperation in his tone as he crosses his arms over his broad chest and surveys them both. His gaze flits back and forth between them, one eyebrow arched. His expression is mild, even if inwardly, he’s anything but.

‘Uncomfortable’ doesn’t begin to describe it, but he’s used to hiding that beneath so many layers no one can pick up on it. ]

Do I even want to know what you did to the door?

[ Despite her previous worry, Hilda can't help that eyebrow that raises mirroring Sylvain's as she places her hand on her cocked hip. ]

Could we?

[ The attitude that slips into her voice makes it very clear that they're all well aware how skilled he is at getting out of situations he didn't want to be in. It's not that she's trying to be aggravating at this moment; that's not their intent. Pressing a heel into an old wound still hurts even if Sylvain claims that he has no intention of digging up old graves and sifting through something that should have been long gone and decayed.

Talking about the doors, the comment about the lengths they had gone to keep him here - she can't be certain but this feels like this is probably just another attempt at evasion.

The hand slips from her hip along with her attitude. ]

We knew you probably wouldn't want to talk about it but what else could we do? If we asked if you were fine, you'd tell us as much. But we both know what we heard in the Featherhive and we saw how you reacted. [ There's no attempt at foisting blame onto Claude even in jest. No jokes on the horizon. Concern and worry reach across her features. ] We're worried. And we just want to help.

[ Claude has the same reaction to being told they could've asked, like it'd ever be that simple, that Hilda does. Her question right back is the best response by far; there's no use in repeating something even if he has a feeling Sylvain's likely to repeat it again like it makes any sense at all.

He's not falling for the mention of the door either and waves a hand in a dismissive gesture. The doors are clearly frozen over, and if Sylvain's really interested? That explanation can follow when they're done with this particular topic first. ]

Along with that, you're still trying to say you're fine in not so many words. Or like we don't have experience dealing with evasive people, and lots of it.

[ With a motion of his hand first to Hilda, then to himself as the cause for that experience even if it doesn't need to be stated, and then he leaves both hands propped on his waist rather than crossing his arms even though it's tempting to do so.

But Claude also has the feeling they're approaching pushing their luck a bit when they're both familiar with Sylvain's brand of avoiding something, so he turns his gaze to the garden beds. A moment later, he leans down to pick up one of the seedlings not yet transplanted and then eyes the soil. Time for a brief interlude into something else for a little disarming, with any luck. ]

Speaking of help. If you want these herbs to do well, don't plant them by the other ones or you'll be back out here planting new ones sooner than you'd probably like.

[ Sylvain makes a quiet noise under his breath before he turns back to his flower beds because that seems safer than being openly annoyed at either of them right now. ]

I told you before, if you wanted to know something, you could ask.

[ Okay, that was mostly directed at Hilda, because it had been a recent conversation, even. And he'd meant it. Only she hadn't asked anything, just shoved him off in Claude's direction instead. Which was fine, he supposes, but he hadn't been lying when he said that wasn't the sort of thing he and Claude ever talked about. Unless they were in the Pit, apparently.

He'd been braced for it that day in the kitchens, only to have it narrowly avoided, so he'd let it go again. He didn't really appreciate being blindsided with it again, with them now apparently ganging up on him.

Claude's comment about evasiveness gets a quiet snort of amusement from him though as he goes about planting another seedling, hands buried in the dirt. Needing it to ground him - literally. ] Yeah, I don't think either one of you have room to talk when it comes to that.

[ He works in silence for a moment before Claude crouches down beside him, gives him a momentary reprieve and a diversion he sees for being exactly that. But he knows how stubborn these two are, and if they've decided to corner him like this, he doubts he's getting out of this conversation until he gives them something. Not in the mood to beat around the bush, he dusts his hands off and leans back on his heels again. ]

You don't need to butter me up with small talk. [ His eyes are fixed on the flower bed, not looking at either of them. Bracing himself all over again. ] Just get to the point. What do you want to know? My brother was an asshole. I'm pretty sure you both knew that already.

[ Her cheeks burn at the repeated statement, annoyance flaring in time with her discomfort about this confrontation. Sylvain's not so concealed annoyance has her readying a snippy response; for all her airheaded posturing she remembers the roundabout conversation she had led him through in the Nether. After all, it hadn't been that long ago. Sylvain had made it clear he didn't want to talk about this with Claude, that they didn't talk about this sort of thing. Why that would mean he would want to talk to her is beyond her but what has become clear to her is that if she isn't here for whatever reason - whether that be by her own choosing, them asking her to leave or this world deciding it'd had enough of her - she can't leave knowing these two blockheads aren't speaking to one another about important topics.

Nevermind that there's some irony in there about her own reluctance to speak to important things which Sylvain is quick to point out. But she's already removed herself from this scenario in her mind. Instead of allowing herself to say something snarky she bites it back, burning holes into Dolores' visage across the way as Claude attempts levity. Clearly it doesn't work, but it does provide a momentary reprieve. It's enough to stifle her momentary annoyance and remind herself that their silly scheming had a purpose to it. That as uncomfortable as this might be for all of them, it would hopefully be for the better.

When she speaks again her voice is purposefully even, eyes flitting back towards Sylvain. ]

You keep saying that we wouldn't understand. What wouldn't we understand?

[ No, neither of them do have any room to talk - which is precisely why Claude doesn't bother to respond to it to offer anything back if Sylvain's looking to latch onto that to get away from the topic at hand. Instead he merely continues his investigation of the plants already in the bed, checking leaves and soil depth without any real aim to note any of it.

The same goes for not needing small talk to get through this, at which point Claude very nearly asks what they're calling the stalling if not that. But patience has a way of paying off so he doesn't bother looking up either, not even as he moves around to the opposite side of the bed to keep working from there and with the benefit of being able to see both Hilda and Sylvain clearly.

A nearby planting has some roots still showing - probably from when they'd distracted Sylvain the first time - so he moves to move some of the soil around it in a better base, pausing only briefly when Hilda speaks. ]

I think the two of us might understand more than you think.

[ Is what he finally offers, and quietly - there's no cheer to put into that even falsely nor is it the time, so Claude continues his work without pausing. ]

[ He still doesn't look up, dirty hands braced on his knees, despite the mess he might currently be making of his pants. That's the last thing he's worried about right now.

Goddess. Where does he even start?

Sigh. Probably earlier than he'd like. What they'd heard... it had been from pretty young. Not the earliest, but it had definitely been one of the worst. Almost as bad as...

No. He veers sharply away from that thought. Takes a deep breath to focus. ]

Before I start... what do you know of my brother?

[ Where Claude moves around the planter, Hilda stays firmly rooted in her spot nearby Sylvain. As if wishing she had something of her own to distract her, her hands begin to fiddle with the hem of her sleeve.

When Claude finally does speak she can't help but think about the things he had told her that night in the Nether about his own past. There's plenty she can't relate to. Her life had been gilded and spoiled, wrapped in soft pretty things to shield her from the worst the world could offer. But in many ways the dice had rolled in her favour. She had a family that cared for her and less about any Crest she bore, a happy and safe upbringing, and while Holst was annoying in a doting big brother sort of way, he was undeniably kind. So kind that it could make her sick sometimes thinking about it.

Sylvain and Claude hadn't been so lucky in that respect. And even though she knows that isn't her fault, that doesn't make her feel any less guilty. ]

Only what the gossip said at the time. [ And of course what little Sylvain had already said about his character. ] That he couldn't be an heir because he lacked a Crest.

[ Sylvain's stillness isn't something he takes a good sign. Looking like he's steadying himself by holding on rather than digging around in the garden - also not anything good, as if the other man's using this to brace himself while trying to not give the appearance of doing just that. It'd be convincing if it wasn't for everything else creating the bigger picture.

Like being asked what they know about Miklan as a precursor to whatever might follow it, and Claude wonders if that's not a way to direct the conversation around something. It feels close enough to his own tactics that it's more than possible. Likely, even. ]

I knew a little bit more than that thanks to listening to most of what my grandfather told me. Or just reading his correspondence to keep myself informed. [ Claude dusts his own hands off after the plant's as taken care of as it can be, and he looks up to first Hilda and then Sylvain before continuing. ] There was some information considering if his... group traveled over into the Alliance, most lords wanted to know. Boring reports, mostly, and I'd never seen him until we went to the Tower.

[ A mission he's certainly not forgotten for how they were sent after that Relic, and the warning sent to them all as they'd watched the Lance claim Miklan into its terrible power which had raised more questions in his mind about how Teach could wield the Sword of the Creator. The latter's not important, and so Claude joins Hilda in waiting for whatever Sylvain will say next. ]

[ Sylvain makes a face at the mention of Miklan's 'group' because that was putting it far too tactfully. They were bandits and marauders, plain and simple. But that's the fate his brother had chosen to fall to. The only people he would ever lead. ]

An heir with a Crest in Gautier is more important than most. Or so my father believed. We're the last line of protection standing between the Kingdom and the Srengi warbands who constantly raided our borders. The Lance of Ruin was what held them at bay, therefore my father needed an heir who could wield it. Miklan was clearly never going to be that person, as I'm sure you both saw.

[ His voice is surprisingly calm and even - detached, almost, as he relays this information. Information they probably already knew - or could surmise easily enough - but it gave him a place to start. ]

It was through no fault of his own, of course, but he grew up knowing he was lacking in our father's eyes - that he would never measure up to our father's standards - and when I was born, I immediately gained everything he'd craved for himself. Something that should have been his by right of birth. [ Even though that, apparently, meant nothing. ]

To say he resented me for that would be an understatement. We... never really got along, and our father didn't help with that either. Both of us were made very aware of our roles - or lack thereof - in the family. It was a terrible situation all around. He made terrible choices, yes, but I imagine he didn't see any better ones left to him, when everything he felt should have been his... had been stolen by me.

[ That summarized most of it. And sufficiently explained what they'd overheard that day - or so he hoped. Although it was very pointedly told from his brother's perspective and left out Sylvain's point of view on almost everything - something he doesn't even realize he'd done.

His perspective had never really mattered in the scheme of things, when it came to his family and the tragedy that was his bloodline. ]

[ The parallels between their lives are once again laid out bare for her on a platter reminding her how fortunate she was to never grapple with a bitter sibling or parents who cared for a child with a Crest. Holst had fulfilled everything they wanted and more without her ever needing to lift a finger and for that she would always be grateful for her family. It gave her the upbringing she had, cushioned from the harsh realities that lay outside of Goneril's borders.

Standing where she is, having never walked in Miklan's shoes, it's easy for her to say that there were other choices available for Miklan that didn't result in his transformation into a Demonic Beast. But even she's aware how ignorant that sounds so she zips her mouth shut. Crests weren't taken lightly in most of Fodlan; her family had simply been an outlier and even all her ignorant bliss can't shield her from that. But for Sylvain's father to carelessly toss aside his own son for that - a part of her still can't fathom that just like she can't fathom how a sibling could have so much hate for another sibling to the point where they would toss them down a well to drown and die when they hadn't asked for the hand they had been dealt. The context makes sense but she still doesn't say anything knowing that isn't her story to tell.

What also doesn't go unnoticed however is the fact that he ratlles all of this off with a sense of detachment. Her teeth worry her lower lip. ]

But you didn't steal them. You know that, right? You just happened to be born with one and that isn't your fault. Miklan was wrong for taking it out on you and your father...he shouldn't have encouraged that. How he acted towards Miklan shouldn't have happened in the first place but he should have protected you too.

[ Or maybe, a snide voice thinks, that's her wishful thinking and she's proven herself right once again that she'll never be able to understand the things Sylvain has gone through. ]

[ There's nothing to do but wait for what will follow, and it turns out it's not much of a wait at all before Sylvain starts to tell them. In detail, and things they couldn't have ever known without being told first.

At what Sylvain describes, all of it far more than was hinted around the outlines of before: it's enough for a white hot flare of anger to bloom in Claude's chest and spread. Even within the range of general cruelties in Fodlan, this is a particularly heinous one that was doubled down upon again and again. Worst of all is that Sylvain again states this so plainly, as if it's his fault for daring to exist. But as he'd learned before, getting upset about this won't change Sylvain's view on it no matter how much he wishes it would.

He should keep that in mind. He really should, he reminds himself. It still takes Claude a good few moments until he can take a measured breath in without any tells - at least more than what he's about to say is going to give despite maintaining an equally too calm tone while willing himself to let being upset go when it won't help. ]

Your father is responsible for that. All of that. Or Faerghus, more specifically, or - let's just say it's all of Fodlan's fault, because it's anyone's but yours.

[ It won't change things - he knows that. Whatever pretense Claude had about being invested in the garden is now fully forgotten rather than being placed on pause after sitting back to look first at Hilda with concern they both share and then back at Sylvain next. ]

Hilda's right. What happened was because of your father's actions and then your brother's from there, and you weren't responsible for any those either. You aren't responsible in this life or any other one for being mistreated the way you were.

[ Because that also deserves to be said before there can be any (immediate) otherwise even if Claude's expecting it anyway; there's too many hurts wrapped up in what was said for it to be so simple as to soothe them with just this no matter how much the two of them mean it, but it doesn't harm anything to repeat it. ]

Didn't I? [ The words are rueful but resigned as he flicks a glance over at Hilda, at her denial of his theft. It may not have been something he'd chosen to steal, but that didn't mean he hadn't ripped it all away, just the same. He's pretty sure the semantics of it had never mattered to Miklan - only the end result.

In that way, Miklan just proved how very much like their father he really was. ]

And our father, for the most part, saw the rivalry between us [ one-sided though it might have been ] as something that would ultimately make me a stronger heir. [ A bitter laugh as he shakes his head, turning his gaze back to focus on some distant point. ] Goddess, I swear that's what all his favorite sayings were about. 'Adversity is one of life's greatest teachers' or 'nothing worth doing is easy'. 'When the world pushes you, push back harder'. Oh, and my personal favorite, 'be tougher than the problem itself'. [ He snorts in derision, shaking his head, lips twisted in disdain. The impression was eerily accurate, which confirmed just how often he'd had those sentiments drilled into him all his life. ]

Of course, not even that bluster could cover the evidence when Miklan's "pushing" couldn't be blamed on roughhousing and 'boys being boys' any longer. [ He sighs, looking down at his hands as he fidgets and distracts himself with digging some of the dirt out from under a nail. ] Which is most of what you heard back there from the birds that day. Miklan... his obsession grew to some pretty unhinged levels before his actions forced our father to send him away. And... well. You know how that story ended. Time away didn't help his obsession any. Clearly.

[ But he flicks his gaze to Claude then, one corner of his lips quirking up in a humorless smile. ] It doesn't really matter who was at fault. Casting blame doesn't change what happened. I can tell myself it wasn't my fault as often as I want, but I can't excuse the weight my existence put on the scales. I could sit here all day and complain about how none of it was fair, but what good does that do? I'm pretty sure nothing back home was ever about 'fairness'.

Do you know how dumb that sounds? Babies eat, sleep, and poop - they don't know or understand anything about Crests much less understand how to "steal" them.

[ Hilda can't help the mild incredulousness that flashes across her face at Sylvain's question. It isn't so much aimed at him as it is at the things that had led to him believing that that was the case. Because how was someone who was born into the world meant to desire something that they hadn't the faintest clue about? If that were the case, if they had ever been given any choice, she would have vastly preferred Holst to take her Crest and Freikugel so she could continue to leave her stress-free life. But like Claude said, it isn't Sylvain's fault that Miklan - no, that Fodlan - was so intent on heirs with Crests that it had become a sick obsession. One that had sunk its claws so deep into their society that many of them were only waking up to it and realizing how wrong that is now.

There's another reason for her mild irritation and that's the idea that Sylvain carried around all of this unthinkable guilt towards his existence and they hadn't the faintest idea until now. The thought that he deserved everything that life handed him was simply unacceptable and it burns red hot across her chest. She steps towards him, the crease between her brows furrowing as she glares up at him. ]

So what's the alternative to your existence, hm?

[ It goes without saying that's a rhetorical question that should remain unanswered lest he draw both she and Claude's annoyance and her furious glare says as much. If it hadn't been Sylvain, it would have been someone else. She was getting the distinct impression that Matthias Gautier was a man who took his family's duties seriously - even if that meant having child after child until someone was a "suitable" heir. ]

You're right. Casting blame doesn't fix the past, but it could be a step towards helping you come to terms with the fact that you didn't do any of that to Miklan intentionally or unintentionally. [ Without thinking she reaches out for his hand giving it a squeeze. ] Your existence isn't heavy or a burden. And it's definitely worth more than just some stupid Crest.

[ Hilda's initial reaction probably isn't exactly how he would've put it, but - it's absolutely effective in pointing out what a ridiculous thought process that is in the very brutal way only Hilda can manage and he's been long acquainted with. If it wasn't for the subject matter and how misplaced it'd be to do so in this moment, Claude might've even smiled. Fortunately, he's saved from any risk of it by his expression immediately flattening out. Not because he's actually expressionless, but because it's something safer to default to than the growing anger in hearing Sylvain still somewhat defend this as logical.

None of it's directed at Sylvain himself since Claude recognizes how easily he might've thought the same things had he had not refused such a thing, and even though refusals came with their own costs just as much as shouldering those burdens had. Though it's easy for both of them to be upset - and it's certainly justified to be even if Sylvain seems to accept this, all of it, in his own way. In what must have felt like the only option, Claude thinks.

That doesn't also mean he doesn't join Hilda in glaring for good measure until it also fades at what she says. More truths, if Sylvain would only believe them. ]

The Crest is the least worthwhile thing about you, actually. And by that I mean it's meaningless to who you are, because you aren't your Crest. Not even close, Sylvain. You're so much more than that.

[ It's Claude's turn to move without thinking as a bookend to the same moment Hilda does, though this time rather than in agitation it's a small show of affection in reaching out to brush some dirt off Sylvain's cheek with the back of one hand, a souvenir from the now abandoned gardening relaxation that's been thoroughly interrupted by revelations to be had. ]

Don't try to convince us otherwise either because it won't work. [ And there's the cheekiness back again, not just for levity but to also give Sylvain a bit of a reprieve from more equally heavy things. ] You're stuck with us thinking highly of you no matter whatever denial I'm sure you're working on while I'm still talking.

[ He bites back the argument that his existence has always been a heavy burden. On himself, on those around him. Not just his brother, but the exasperated expressions of his friends on the many many times he’d worn their patience thin. The people he’d interacted with back at the Academy, people in the village… although those had all usually been for good reason. By his own estimation, there had never been much that could be considered redeemable about him. Through his own actions, true enough, but that had been easier than dealing with all their expectations on top of the crushing weight of his family’s.

He stares down at his dirty hands when Claude backs up Hilda’s words, feeling that familiar touch against his cheek, the squeeze around his hand. But he still doesn’t look up at them. Can’t. Though he does give a quiet, humorless laugh at Claude’s words, shaking his head. ]

Do you know, I think that might be the first time anyone’s ever said that to me? It’s always been the other way around. I’m the inconvenient attachment that comes with the Crest they all valued so much. The only worthwhile thing about me has always been my Crest.

Edited 2023-12-15 04:30 (UTC)

— hilda and sylvain; know i'm not perfect but i hope you see my worth

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