claude von riegan. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
godshattering) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2023-01-05 11:40 am
godshattering) wrote in abraxaslogs2023-01-05 11:40 am
i'm reaching for the clouds
Who: Claude and various
When: January + early February (pre-event)
Where: The Horizon, Aquila, TBA
What: Catch all
Warnings: None currently, will add/mark as needed
( Closed starters in the comments below. Feel free to find me at ![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
indech, arboria#1862, or by PM at any time to plot something! )
When: January + early February (pre-event)
Where: The Horizon, Aquila, TBA
What: Catch all
Warnings: None currently, will add/mark as needed
no subject
[ Without any real intent behind it besides flippancy as an immediate response while he continues plaiting pink strands, and with the knowledge Hilda won't take it seriously either. ]
But that would be leaving you with the potential to take the worst hairdo crown away from Lorenz even if he's relinquished it these days, and I can hardly be responsible for that. Especially after you rescued him from certain doom.
[ A glance up into the mirror to double check nothing about the front of her new hairstyle looks even, though he quickly pulls a face when realizing that - no, it isn't. Back to square one as he shakes out what he'd braided so far and starts over, this time eyeing her reflection to be a bit more careful when combing it back so there's no third try needed.
The silence is nice, a comfortable one like ones they've settled into before where despite their tendencies to chatter on about anything there's no need to fill this with anything. In it he keeps working on the top braid until he gets to the part where it'll need to blend in with the next braid, and right as he's about to open his mouth to ask Hilda to bring a hand back to hold it into place - she beats him to talking.
What she asks brings him to a halt as he lifts his gaze to meet hers and holds the eye contact when holding out a hand for hers, foregoing the verbal part of asking for hair assistance in favor of pursuing where her question before the impending and yet unasked one is going. ]
That's a rather ominous way to ask. Is it time to redeem the first part of our little bet already? [ He hasn't forgotten Hilda mentioning she might save those questions for whenever she felt like it, so it doesn't feel like much of a leap to assume that's where this is going. ] Ask away.
no subject
[ Her mouth drops open, partially for the dramatics, but also because she's actually a little offended that he would think tangles would be the sole reason Lorenz's hair during their academy days would be unseated from its position as the worst hairstyle to ever grace the halls of Garreg Mach. She'd flick him if she were in a decent position to do it, but instead she glares at him in the reflection instead. ]
You'd have to practically sheer all my hair off and even then I'd still look better than Lorenz did back then!
[ With how passionately she says it, it's clear she's fairly confident in it too.
Wordlessly, she holds her hand out to him, gaze never leaving his in the mirror. Unsurprisingly Claude's mind goes straight to their bet. She knows that she could cash that in now if she wanted to, and potentially get all the answers to the questions that had been swirling in her mind. Hilda suspects that he, Sylvain, and Petra all know more than she does and she can't deny the slight hurt that comes with it. It has less to do with feeling left out, and more to do with thinking that Claude, for whatever reason, doesn't trust her enough. Never mind that she often didn't want to know the unpleasant truths, but maybe something had changed between them in the months now that spanned them.
It's enough to make her hesitate, make her think for a moment that she doesn't want the truth given to her because of a bet no matter how awful the truth may be. It certainly has nothing to do with avoiding the truth for a little longer. Instead something else slips from lips, something else that she would have asked anyway. A furrow forms between her brows, gaze flitting away from his almost immediately so he doesn't realize that this isn't what she had initially planned on asking. ]
Can I sleep in your bed?
no subject
Having another braid to work on is a convenient way to hide fidgeting while he waits for her to address whatever she wants to ask. The bet still seems like the safest guess and that leaves Claude feeling a little adrift as he waits with so many potential ways Hilda could use to wield it if she wanted. There's no way out of answering whatever it is. But maybe watching her isn't encouraging forthrightness either, so to give her time to decide he looks back at her hair and delicately sections it to finger comb those into neatness.
What she chooses to ask is something much different and again Claude stops to study her in the mirror.
Now Hilda isn't looking back at him and while she could just be looking at something else in the room, it could mean nothing, he can't help but wonder fleetingly if he's made a misstep somewhere. If something happened, if there's any number of other things she's not saying, but if she's not going to tell him then on this Claude won't pry. ]
Of course, Hilda. [ He says this quietly and without an ounce of teasing behind it, hands still paused in her hair until he's sure she knows he means it. ] You don't ever have to ask for that.
no subject
Whatever the reason, it had become a normal occurrence for them that they continued to do so despite Lorenz's lectures on "modesty", and the detentions handed to them by Setheth for the same reason. It didn't matter that what they did had merely been the innocent act of sharing a bed — or at least that's what they told everyone, sometimes the mystery of it was more fun as was sowing some chaos and scandal — because what they did behind closed doors was for them to know.
It had only started again recently before Hilda had left. If Claude would burn the midnight oil she would be there to coax him into bed, pouting and claiming she was cold or that the light, despite being so dim, was keeping her up. He often didn't have a choice in the matter; sleep was good for him and what good was a tired leader? And forget retainer - what kind of friend would that make her if she didn't look out for him? There hadn't been many moments when sleeping in his bed or vice versa had been for her benefit, at least that's what she told herself. She knows that Claude would always agree, no matter the reason or circumstances, which is what makes this embarrassing to some degree. She can't meet his eyes in the mirror, keeping a steady gaze on her hands instead. ]
I know. [ Her voice is quiet and so unlike her. ] But you share a room with Sylvain and I just figured... [ Her voice trails off. There's nothing in it implying anything, she just simply doesn't want to be a bother. Insecurity and uncertainty in their friendship gnaws at her, rearing its ugly head for perhaps the first time ever when it came to him. ] I just wanted to be sure.
no subject
There is something off kilter, but where to start in narrowing it down? Is that even possible when there's so much it could be? Claude isn't often one to worry, but this request plus her hesitance around asking at all when it used to be something they never thought twice about no matter what anyone around the monastery said feels like it could be anything at all. It had been so easy to let down walls to let Hilda in, more so than he could've ever guessed, and to the point where he hadn't noticed her persistence gradually eroding them away. To where her complaints about the volume of books, quills, and papers stashed in his bed at any given time had dwindled, just in case, and he'd thought about that more than once since arriving where he'd piled them up to fill a missing void once more.
I just wanted to be sure. That stings more than anything else ever could, he thinks. But with Hilda not looking back at him in the mirror - Claude shrugs a shoulder and pastes on a smile as he gets back to braiding, just in case she does look up. Never say he's not ready to pretend something is fine even if it doesn't seem to be. ]
Well, if Sylvain's the problem, we could always just kick him out of the room. I haven't a feeling he wouldn't stand much of a chance against us when it'd be two against one, and when he hasn't seen you at your most persuasive.
[ One strand of the plait over the other as he keeps his gaze on them despite the light tone he's forcing enough to be natural, adjusting it here and there and reaching to take the top braid from her hand when it's time. And, in a ploy to get her to smile or sound more like herself for scolding him with what's a blatantly apparent attempt at teasing her, and with a decidedly wide smirk - ]
Or he'll vacate the room when he hears how loudly you snore when you're out cold, and then it won't be a problem anyway. Maybe I should've had you nap in there sooner whenever I was looking for some peace and quiet.
no subject
She chides herself for being so silly, for letting herself fall down the slippery slope of bad things. How selfish of her to ruin the precursor to a date that, even though it was just a date born from a bet, still might mean something to both of the men going on it. Claude's goad, however gentle and completely untrue as far as she's concerned, lands because she lets it land. He's lucky that the plait is starting to look good from the font and she doesn't want to risk whirling around to punch him in the gut or tug at his cheek in retaliation. Instead she settles for a well practiced gasp. ]
I do not snore! [ The act continues with a firm crossing of her arms because she thinks, if she can continue to fake it like this then she'll eventually be okay. That's how that worked, right? There's no heat to her protests, just the usual air of, "How dare you insinuate that I'm not a delicate flower." ] I think you're just mistaking my snoring for your snoring. And don't get me started on the drool, Claude.
no subject
This time when he stops, it's with great seriousness that Claude shifts the almost finished braid to one hand in order to let his now free one on Hilda's shoulder gravely as if he's bracing her for something for which she'll need support. ]
I regret to inform you, Hilda, that the drooling is all yours and I can no longer take the fall for it. [ There's a slightly too formal note to his tone, as if he's pulled out his duke voice just for this and like it's some kind of ruling edict rather than mirth tugging at all the corners of his face. ] It's been a good few years of blame, but now it's time for you to take it. I have plenty of pillowcases over the years to prove it, you know.
[ Something about the thought of somehow also summoning his supposed evidence is enough for Claude to grin cheekily at her in the mirror as he pulls his hand away and completes the braid, tying it off with the ribbons she'd pulled out of her hair earlier and then spending a second to tidy up his handiwork before putting both hands on the back of her chair so she can investigate it herself. ]
But on the bright side, you're the most stylish combination snorer-drooler in Aquila by a long shot.
no subject
But if they were being honest, she does drool but only when she's really, really tired! The snoring is however is all Claude's doing, she's certain of it even though she's usually the one who sleeps far more between the two. She channels her outrage into the most fierce pout as she turns from side to side to examine Claude's handiwork. The examining is more principle than anything. She has no doubt that it's probably flawless — she had schooled him for many months until it was to her liking — although he already had some level of how to do it before she had met him.
It's hard not to admire his deft hands and the way her hair weaves in and out of itself. If she didn't know any better, she could have very well braided it herself. It's almost enough to make her forgive him for airing out her dirty secret to a room of just them. Almost.
Quick as a flash she climbs up onto the chair, standing up on her knees. She gives him a smile so saturated and sweet that he'll know something is coming immediately and she hopes it put the fear into him. ]
Amazing work as always. [ She reaches out her hands, grabbing a hold of both of his cheeks and stretching them out, emphasizing each word. ] How did I get so lucky to have the loudest snorer in Aquila braiding my hair?
no subject
For all his quick reflexes, Claude's not fast enough to dodge Hilda's hands on his face. He also makes the mistake of grimacing which likely makes it all the easier for her to grab on and tug just like he knows she's going to even as he's already reaching to lightly swat the backs of her hands like it'll change his fate. ]
Hey, leave my roguishly beautiful face in one piece, will you? I'm kind of attached to it. Also, I definitely need it to keep charming everyone I meet.
[ As usual, his protests are more for the sake of it than any active distress which might also be clear from the fact that there's no small amount of amusement in his nonexistent attempts to escape Hilda's (literal) clutches. Still, he's also going to sigh heavily as though this is deeply troublesome to him and her stretching of his face isn't also conveniently hiding his smirk. ]
Way to add salt to my wounds by pretending like you braided your own hair with that comment about your snoring title! Might I remind you I'm wearing a dress and now you're just adding to my unending torment?
no subject
[ She continues to pull and stretch his face like it’s dough, a genuine laugh beginning to form in the back of her throat and at the corner of her eyes. For all her boisterous claims that anyone would be lucky to have a friend like her, Hilda can’t help but feel deep down that she’s the one that’s lucky to have him. Very few would willingly put themselves through this or put up with her and her princess tendencies. It’s better to just accept it because thinking about it sends her down a spiral of anxiety.
The prickle at the back of her eyes signal that tears are going to show soon if she doesn’t stop thinking about how moments like these were so important to her. Crying over sentimental things had never been a common occurrence before the war, but she supposed that this was just another way it was changing her. She isn’t entirely sure she likes it. The thought is enough to make her stop, telling herself that it’s because she doesn’t want to make his cheeks too red and her hands are cramping anyway. It’s not the thought of dying and never being able to spend time with him like this again and it definitely doesn’t have anything to do with crying and potentially ruining his date. It would never be either of those things. ]
Here I am trying to pay you a compliment and you’re just going on complaining! [ She lets out a sigh, throwing her hands up to the side in a very similar way that he does. ] I’ll let it slide this time because I don’t want to be the reason you’re late for your date. [ True to her word, she smoothly hops off the chair and brushes her own dress before doing some last minute checks on Claude’s dress as if her pulling his face had somehow effected the clothing. ]
You’ll tell me all about it later, won’t you? [ Her fingers fiddle listlessly at the bustle for the sake of looking busy. Her voice is nothing but light and conversational too in an effort to not go back down the slippery slope she had just been tugged back from. ] Also, I can make myself scarce tonight if you’d rather. I don’t have to sleep in your bed starting tonight.
[ The nightmares aren’t consistent anyway. ]
it's a wrap!
[ Not a real complaint; also, not even remotely possible to do - he's pretty sure - but for good measure that's not going to stop Claude from bringing both hands up to his face after he lets go to pat it tentatively with his fingertips as if he's expecting things to have actually moved. Obviously they haven't, so he drops his shoulders in exaggerated relief. ]
Well, it seems to all still be in place so I suppose I have no choice but to continue liking you, too. I was worried there for a minute.
[ It goes without saying he was no such thing, but. He'd caught that expression flickering across Hilda's face again, another one that seems like it might align with from earlier. Or maybe it's something that needs to be layered over it for a clearer picture, a way to bring it all into focus, like a stack of stained glass fragments forming a different view than when laid out separately. Something Claude's no stranger to himself in operating the same way, and as Hilda smooths out his dress for him when he was about to do that next he watches her carefully beneath the too easy smile on his face.
All the better to catch her hands in his when she lets got of the bustle and possibly starts to step away to keep her there. ]
I will. But whether it's tonight or not, Hilda, I meant what I said. You don't have to ask to join me. Show up whenever you need to, and I'll be there for you.
[ There's more he could say - likely should say - but Hilda's probably right about not running late when he'd had the idea to show up to the restaurant in question first. So with one last squeeze of her hands he lets go to tackle pulling on those very high boots much different than his usual ones or his greaves from another life to round out the outfit, and then he's off with one last wink over his shoulder Hilda's direction as he walks out the door. ]