abraxaslogs | [ CLOSED ] into an ocean

He was one of the ones that made your life… before. So much hell?

[ he listens quietly though all of it, although somewhere in the middle, he’d reached out and twined his fingers with Claude’s as he told his story. Talked about a past he spoke of exactly never. The warmth of his hand against Sylvain’s is solid, grounding and he hopes it feels the same for the other man as they walk and he talks.

It fills in a lot of missing pieces. Oh, Sylvain had assumed a great deal of this by now - not the finer details, but they had far too much in common for him to not pick up that Claude understood him on a deeper level than most. An understanding that only came from experience, in his opinion. And there were hints, if you knew where to look. In what Claude had said. In what he hadn’t.

He commits the mention of Claude’s brother, the man’s name, to memory as he glances over and searches his face, waiting patiently for his answer. Letting Claude pick and choose what he was comfortable telling him. ]

Sort of since that was more like whenever we crossed paths as we weren't close. Same for with the rest of our siblings since none of us are close as collateral damage thanks to inheritance always looming over everything.

[ Something he's neglected to explain in any of that, though he has to wonder if Sylvain's picked up on it. Along with everything else he clearly has when a familiar hand had slipped into his while speaking, and Claude hadn't hesitated in holding onto that warm grasp. A comfort, just as it's always been when they've reached for one another out of this reason or that one, and more so now while letting some of his masks fall away as it quiets some of the vulnerability he so dislikes showing on any given day.

There's further explanations which await first given that they're what he truly meant to explain. While he's told Sylvain slivers of it at other times, perhaps it'll give them the context behind it that wasn't there before when he'd intentionally withheld it. ]

It was more than just that, though, and it wasn't limited to my siblings alone though they certainly didn't make anything easier for me. Friends were in rather short supply for me as a kid so I learned to cover up weaknesses and keep them hidden. I made sure I was always a step or five ahead of everyone else, and part of that was making sure almost no one ever knew what I was thinking.

Rest of…? Just how many siblings do you have?

[ He blinks a little, because that’s a lot of family Claude’s never once spoken of. Then again, if they were all more his enemies than his siblings, he could understand. One Miklan had been plenty all on his own, after all.

The rest of that, however, was something Sylvain had already put together, just from watching him over the years. Especially the most recent few. He gives Claude’s hand a faint squeeze. ]

At least you were uniquely equipped to be tossed head first into the Dukedom and all the Alliance’s politics, then, with that sort of mindset. Over-equipped, I would guess. At least you did find friends there.

[ He hadn’t missed the mention of that inheritance, but he’s not sure if Claude is referring to the Duke or something else entirely. Was this a Crest thing? Something else? ]

Several.

[ It's not exactly a satisfying answer to a valid question for Sylvain to ask, but it ties into what's not yet revealed rather than being something he's dodging. Something they're getting closer to than they've ever been before in circles around this or that but ones which never touch upon things they both brush away, and the urge for Claude to simply spit it out as he'd done with Hilda is getting louder as the best course of action to take. The squeeze to his hand is returned with one right back, that quiet bit of support and comfort very much appreciated even as a wry smile crosses his face at what comes next. ]

I don't think anything could've prepared me for Fodlan even with what my mother told me, but you're right that it was far from the first difficult situation I had to untangle.

[ Which leads to where he wants to go next in the conversation rather well, and Claude stops walking to look at Sylvain with his full attention. ]

My mother is Tiana von Riegan. She left the Alliance to marry my father - the king of Almyra.

[ What a vague answer. Careful, Claude, he'll start making up numbers here to fill in the blanks. There's no way that can go well.

He doesn't miss that Claude specifies 'Fodlan'. Not the Alliance. Which already has his steps slowing, because he'd suspected something of the sort for a while now, but this is the first time Claude is confirming it aloud.

And then the man fills in the rest of it and it takes a moment to sink in. Two, even. And then he trips over his own feet to blink at Claude with wide eyes. ]

The king of Almyra?!

[ If asked, Claude couldn't have said what Sylvain's reaction would be. There were simply too many possibilities and though he'd considered all of them in turn, the one the other man chooses is more than enough to bring amusement he doesn't bother to hide to his face. Even more so at the small stumble when he can practically see realization set in full force, and that deserves a small laugh. ]

Well, my mother will be pleased to find out where she disappeared to is as mysterious as ever to everyone. And I suppose this makes me two for two in that particular reaction to it all.

[ Hilda's disbelief had been even more expressive - understandably so, and Claude doesn't think this is the end of Sylvain's either. It's enough to relax his shoulders a bit from that (very) small wait brought about, and he tilts his head while contemplating Sylvain carefully beneath the smile now on his own face. ]

Succession works a little differently in Almyra than what you know it as, [ that being the only reference to Dimitri he's willing to make, ] so don't get too excited about the title I know you're picturing for me.

Look, I kinda guessed the Almyra part, but the fucking king?! How in the Goddess' name did you ever think running around Fodlan - as a teenager - on your own was a good idea?!

[ Oh Goddess. Claude had literally been a disaster waiting to happen since the day he'd met him. A literal walking international incident.

And then the rest of that sunk in and he groans as he scrapes a hand over his face. ]

Oh, fuck me, I've been fucking royalty for a year and a half.

[ And there it is. ]

Secret royalty. Don't forget the important part of that thought.

[ Or the only important part as far as Claude's concerned, seeing as how it makes no different to him either way. The same can't be said for Sylvain it seems and now he's absolute not hiding clear mirth when the other man runs a hand down his face. The expression on his face isn't quite a smile, but it's pretty close. ]

And wait a minute, just a few seconds ago you said wherever I grew up prepared me for this! [ He's not done nearly avoiding laughter even as he waves a hand in a supposedly exasperated gesture. ] Running's a bit of an exaggeration considering I flew there to meet up with Judith and then had a long ride from Daphnel by horse. Not nearly as fun as being left to my own devices, if you ask me.

Oh, of course, Your Highness. How could I forget that part?

[ That retort is equal sass and exasperation, although there is definitely a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, because he can’t not, not when he sees the laughter in Claude’s eyes. He might not be outwardly showing it much, but Sylvain’s pretty sure he’s become an expert at interpreting Claude von Riegan by now. ]

Being prepared for backstabbing political plots is one thing. Venturing all over Fodlan with people unaware of who they’re protecting and how important that is… that’s something different.

[ Then again, he’d been trained since birth for the role of protector to the young regent, the literal shield between Dimitri and danger. It was absolutely expected and accepted that he would lay down his own life before ever letting harm come to his prince.

Not that he’d been very good at that role, but the mindset was still there.

He jabs a playful finger in Claude’s direction all the same, amusement glinting briefly in amber eyes. ]

That’s it, I’m putting my foot down. You are now officially forbidden from getting anymore new holes in you. The end.

[ That gets his expression to flatten into one of disgust almost instantaneously. ]

I think I liked it better when the only title you had to threaten me with was Your Grace, not that I enjoy that one either.

[ Just so they're clear on that - not that he expects Sylvain to abide by it in the least. Claude's well aware he's just handed the other man something he's not going to let go of when it comes to teasing any time soon. If ever. The latter gets a roll of his eyes even as he's absently tracing a thumb back and forth over the back of Sylvain's hand. It's a familiar refrain even if it comes with new importance behind it (to Sylvain, anyway). ]

You're a little late to that particular threat given that there's no end to me gaining holes in me in the past or present.

[ Claude doesn't expect that to offer any comfort, reassurance, or anything in between. But - it does tie into a concern he'd had about bringing this up to Sylvain that'd come to light at the mention of royalty and wherever he has a feeling the other's mind is taking it in a possible shift. It's enough to pause in countering with banter to peer a little more seriously at someone who's quick to call point out he wasn't a very good knight but who's quick to summon some of that training forward, knowingly or not. ]

I can handle myself, and someone being only a protector out of some sense of duty isn't what I want.

[ That has a slight frown slipping onto Sylvain’s lips as he glances over at Claude, taking a moment to follow that trail of logic.

Then he just gives a derisive snort as he arches an eyebrow and gives the man a look that has all the playful haughty air of Lorenz at his absolute worst. ]

In case you’ve forgotten, I’m Faerghan. Pretty sure I have zero duty when it comes to you, other than making sure you’re not a threat. Not that it matters since we’re not even in Fodlan anymore. But in case you need me to make that clearer, you’re still not my prince, so you don’t have to worry about that.

[ Then he flicks a fingertip against Claude’s forehead, letting the arrogant show slip away into an impish grin. ]

As your lover, however, you’re still not allowed to get any new holes in you or you’ll be sleeping on the couch. Royal ass or not.

[ That's mostly an answer to what he was mostly asking without outright asking, but for once Claude decides he doesn't care about getting to the specifics of it. The eye roll this time is entirely genuine and with nothing else behind it, though he immediately reaches up to swat Sylvain's hand away just as playfully when he's flicked. ]

Yeah, yeah. Trust me when I say your Faerghan-ness is always noticeable. [ He's teasing. Mostly. Enough to keep walking after tugging on the other man's hand to keep them moving towards wherever they're supposed to be going as he'd temporarily forgotten about that letter still in his bag. ] And why exactly would I be sleeping on the couch at that point? I still have a perfectly good bed that you're well acquainted with at this point and if anything, I'm ending up there.

[ This is, of course, said like Sylvain's just suggested sleeping out in the desert instead of their perfectly nice couch he's napped on a time or two. ]

You forget, I saw the state of your bed this morning. Not even you can sleep in that right now. [ Luckily Claude's been in Sylvain's bed for at least the last two or three nights now. He supposes the other man could get away with that. Temporarily, at least. ] Your library exploded again, did it? I'm pretty sure moving heavy books around is not advisable when you're sporting new holes and not supposed to tear out any stitches.

[ As if the part-time healer beside him would ever let a wound ever go unhealed if it was to the point of needing something as barbaric as stitches. ]

You say that like I don't know the exact state of it given that I'm the one who made it that way.

[ Where the 'way' in question doesn't really matter, given that could be said about what's in (or possibly in) his bed in it at any possible moment. This research project, those notes, maybe a scattering of other half started ideas buried within a blanket or wedged between pillows - all of it things he's long used to finding a wya to fall asleep around to avoid disturbing his organized chaos too much. At least until Hilda's presence in his bed convinced him to limit it to one part and Sylvain seemed (seems) to share that same belief, but. That wouldn't be as entertaining as immediately firing back.

Or for the great gasp he offers in response to that last part as a small break as their destination approaches where seriousness will have to take over once more. ]

Wait a minute. You'd really just let me move it all around all by myself while terribly wounded? I don't think my tender heart can take this betrayal!

Please let me continue to believe you don't do this on purpose, otherwise I fear my opinion of your brain might take a devastating blow.

[ He grasps at his chest, as if suffering a great shock, looking dismayed over the prospect.

But he just laughs it off a moment later and drapes his arm about Claude's shoulders once more, tugging him down the street. ]

Come on. Let's get this last task done so we can go home. Else Hilda will think we've gotten lost. Again.

Hey, hey, hey! I know exactly where everything is, you know. Just ask me and I'll prove it without us even being there.

[ There's a playful push at Sylvain's arm around his shoulders as if to push it off in all of that supposed offense, but of course it's just that: playful, much like the question of whether he can name the placement of whichever item the other man might name. Which he totally can and with great accuracy - just ask Claude.

Whether he's telling the truth (probably) or not (also likely), it passes the time with the day feeling brighter than it had not long ago. And really, it'll stay that way even with their next destination in mind both here and for whatever might come next. ]

[ CLOSED ] into an ocean

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