[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.]
[ 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.
no subject
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.]
[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.]
no subject
[ 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?
think we can wrap this one here? 🎀
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.]