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You hardly need such grand plans to find me.

[And he need hardly say such efforts are mostly wasted upon him. That he has made any such impact on the Duke, especially considering his cowardly retreat, is nonetheless miracle made manifest.

And no, the field is not on a hill. The fortress is a sound choice... though he cannot say that the idea of a race is not amusing. At one point, he would hardly balk at such a challenge. He could fly. He would not lose.]

Then I shall come.

And when shall we mark the start of this race?

And if I wanted to put grand plans to use for you all the same?

[ If that were said in person, it might've come across as lightly teasing. Maybe it seems innocent enough written out in script. That doesn't diminish it from being a gentle test all the same. Of curiosity, of genuinely asking - of looking for the tiniest crack in that reservedness he'd picked up on to see where it might lead.

Assuming it leads anywhere, and almost as quickly Claude decides it's no matter if it doesn't for now. Because for now, after all, there's plans. ]

I've always heard patience is a virtue, but when it comes to some things I find it more difficult to abide by than others. In the spirit of that why not say it starts now? Though - it'll have to come with some suspense since I don't know about you, but I'm not in the Horizon right this moment. All the more to make it a little more like a race, if you ask me.

[Is he imagining the flirtatious edge to those words, or has he knocked all sense out of his head? Dion shakes it off; if anything, it is simply friendly banter. At least, that is his only conclusion. Friendly banter hardly existed for him, even among the dragoons, and flirtations a thousand times less. It had taken him years, even, to note Terence's feelings... and some days, he thinks, he may have never known if he had not almost perished.]

I should hardly dissuade you.

[For the first time, it is relieving to know how little tone is carried across with these words.
Perhaps he can push for a particular tone, however...]

And what shall I earn once I have won the race? I am afraid to tell you that I do not intend to lose.

Edited 2024-01-06 04:06 (UTC)

[ It turns out he does get an answer, and the succinctness gets a laugh out of him even if that won't carry over the writing either. Probably. It's also not a no even if it still leaves him as curious as before for what it means and about what to say next. But wondering doesn't have to last long given what follows when it feels like a trade right back for how this had started and offers a bit of clarity, possibly, if he follows that to what feels like a logical end - especially when framed in the context before it. ]

Is that so? Maybe I should be more concerned with what grand plans you have in store for me instead. [ Not really, but - ] Let's see what we can come up with as a prize. Narrowing it down might make it a little easier if you give me some suggestions of what to offer, considering there's both the Horizon and Nocwich. The latter has plenty of other places to eat, for example.

[ For, you know. Something less spontaneous and more planned than before, or simply a chance to catch up in person. Whatever it may be. ]

[The longer they go, the less sure Dion is of the tone he should be reading. He still misses Terence like a very piece of his own body is missing. He is never far from Terence's words, both close to his heart and to his mind. Terence knew, better than anyone, his prince's propensity to pull away, to withdraw, when he was frustrated, or confused. Every further step of Anabella and Olivier would have his second taking even more of his frustrations -- and forcing him out, more and more, on small walks together, or to secretive moments in their tent. To anything that would stop him from merely stewing, growing darker.

He feels such an urge now. To withdraw, as if he made an error -- misjudged -- what is happening. Has found himself in a battle he cannot win. As if water has sucked him down, covering his head.

And there Terence was to remind him that the light cannot thrive in such dark thoughts, my prince.

The possibilities are endless because it is the Horizon. Nocwich certainly has its prizes to be won, but... he would prefer those not be part of this competition.]

I promise I am no great schemer, Claude.

I should like to see a piece of your home. Not the one in the Horizon, but something else. Whatever means something to you. And, of course, a meal from the same. Something you ate in your world.

[ That initial answer makes Claude wonder if that's simply all he's going to get to what he'd floated out there. A possible misstep, if he had to guess given there's more questions than answers about how to read Dion and especially from a distance, and through written words alone if that's where they end. But they don't and it seems that's not the case - probably - though it's now his turn to feel a bit at a loss.

There's a pause as he considers less the straightforwardness of the reply with none of the infinite loops and circles he'd led his own in and more the ask within. Not because it's not what he expected, though that's also part of it, but because of the weight of what's being asked that he knows of and Dion doesn't. At least when it comes to something beyond the surface, and what all he could choose to fulfill that request to leave it there and no further.

Does he want to? It's certainly something to think about even in the midst of the rest. He'll have time to think more later. ]

Both of those things can be arranged. The Horizon would be a good place for it as well since I have to confess to being a cook who leaves a bit to be desired, but this would prevent any, ah, unfortunate cooking results. Whether it's this time or another, depending on how the race goes, I'd like to see the same things from you if that's not too much to ask.

You are among friends. I fear I have not a hint of culinary ability. I was not oft required to cook for myself.

[Not even on their campaigns. It would always be brought to him, and to be honest... he hardly remembers anything of what he ate on such campaigns. He would eat whatever was given, drink so his body did not falter, and continue on.]

It is not too much. There is plenty, I should think, I would like to show you. It seems we have more similarities in our homes to share.

You and me both thanks to that whole being nobility thing. I'd never cooked until being assigned to kitchen duty during the academy and was quickly put on cleaning duty instead.

[ Not that that went any better, but Claude won't elaborate for now. Arriving at the Sarstina had been for the best. Thorne might be the same for Dion at least when it comes to that, but he does have to wonder how similar it is to whatever princely life the other had left behind.

And speaking of that - ]

I'd like the same. Both to hear more about your home, and to hear about it from you, specifically. Though perhaps without some parts hidden behind a race as it were, but that just means all the reason to start looking in earnest.

[It is likely Dion would have gone through something similar, were he not crown prince. His time at the monastery was for studying, for researching, for memorizing, for scrivening. Only when he began to apply himself to the military arts was he subject to more mundane tasks -- sharpening swords, overseeing the Bearers that worked the forges.

It is good it is only written word, for Claude's declaration brings forth such a sudden flood of warmth within his breast. To others, he knows, this must be hardly worth the merit of noting it.

But to him... to be known, for a man to desire to know him. Not because he is Prince Dion, or Dion the Bold, Bahamut or the Warden of Light, but because he is a man with whom they share similarities, and interests... because Claude would like his company.

It is stunningly simple a concept, yet the feelings it births are exceedingly complex. He can truthfully say he cares not a whit about the race. He only wants this prize.]

Let us finish the race first, and then we shall see what I can offer you after.

[He will share more about his home. About himself. But for now, he can hide how strong such a desire is in the elements of a game.]

I'm looking forward to it.

[ And he is, genuinely. It occurs to Claude in the same instant he sends those words off that it might've served well to say so earlier. Sure, there'd been a variety of ways he'd danced around the outlines of it through this tease or that joke, but - there's a limit to how far that can go and especially when said from a distance.

Even if no one else is around, there's been no denying the smile that's come to his face with each message received. He can only guess at what Dion's reactions are at the other end, but there's certainly been no declining as of yet.

Well. Time to see where that goes. ]

And it's a good thing the race has already started since there's that much less time to wait, isn't there?

[Another surge of warmth, as if he is the Warden of Fire now, not of light. Could such words be duplicitous? He does not believe it. He does not want to believe it. Claude had caught his attention because he was so upfront with his words, and it had felt... the connection he felt, it had felt sincere.

After all, he could have left after their first few words. He'd wanted to, to be honest. He had wanted to be alone. But Claude had a fire to him that was enough to have pierced the dark that was his thoughts.

And he only continues to do so.]

I am already halfway to a victory, rest assured.

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think we can wrap this one here? 🎀