claude von riegan. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
godshattering) wrote2025-01-01 12:30 am
godshattering) wrote2025-01-01 12:30 amabraxas inbox + horizon contact
action + prose (nsfw marked) / horizon / network
godshattering) wrote2025-01-01 12:30 am
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You don't wear hoods or have his face structure.
[ As soon as she says it, Hilda can practically see Altaïr's unimpressed expression in her mind's eye. The very thought is enough to lift her lips up a little higher. Claude takes her by surprise again when he goes so far as to offer an explanation that is so typically Claude. A thought rings clear in her mind: At least that hadn't changed about Claude. There's a sudden pang in her heart as she watches him look up wistfully towards the sky. It mingles with the pang of knowing that he had been here alone for a while without anyone else from home - but she has to tell herself to immediately quash, because it's distracting her from the wyvern which is the real reason she had called him here.
By the time he looks back at her, she hopes that she's rearranged her face into something that doesn't reveal how her heart had softened in that moment. Her nose wrinkles playfully, the smile from before still mingling on her face. ]
Mm, let me think. No thanks! [ Once he's part way up the ladder, Hilda tucks the jerky into her pocket before making her way up the ladder. ] When did you start thinking so negatively? Let's just say it'll work until it doesn't because if not, we don't really have any alternatives.
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I'm not thinking negatively, I'm thinking pragmatically about being around teething baby wyverns. Doubly so if this one maybe isn't the fondest of some random person it's never seen before grabbing them even if we know we're going to spoil him. Right?
[ Claude's just assuming the answer to that is a matching right since he's not thinking about the assumptions going into using 'we' rather than something singular. It also feels right, in keeping with a theme, as he hauls himself up and over the top of the ladder to stand on the ledge which fortunately has plenty of room. One glance down at Hilda as she's climbing and while he's pulling on the gloves in hopes of keeping his fingers mostly intact. Or just not punctured, since there's a leathery flap of wings from around the way that could either be interest or alarm as they're soon to find out. ]
There's definitely no good alternatives, though I think the question about whether it can fly away's been answered. If it didn't want us to get close it would've taken off by now and then your boots would be put to the test.
[ Which could still happen, but Claude's feeling confident after being around wyverns long enough to feel he can predict what they're likely to do or not do. Hunger might be winning out for this particular one as he holds a hand out to help Hilda up the last bit of the way if she's not already climbing up and over herself, and that'll be something in their favor. ]
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Claude may have been too preoccupied with his master plan that involved risk mitigation to miss the "we" but Hilda isn't. Teasing is broken up by silent surprise. Thanks to his attention still focused on the wyvern she can recover before it's noticed, telling herself not to read into it.
Except he's holding out his hand to her and she blinks several times at it before nodding. ]
...Right.
[ Making a big deal out of small things is something she'd normally do but she shakes it away before it has a chance to bloom into something more. With his help she hauls herself the rest of the way up, letting go of his hand to brush himself off. ]
I am not jumping off this building after it and channeling Altaïr if that's what you're suggesting.
[ Jerky back in hand she peers around him at the wyvern who definitely seems alert to the new arrivals – but undeniably wary. ]
Should I put on my best please don't run away face?
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She takes his hand and he remembers for a second. It helps to have the gloves in the way, as he tries to convince himself as much, and once she's steady he turns his attention back to the wyvern. ]
I think it couldn't hurt if you looked as placating as possible. Maybe some tears to go with it just to help put the extra touch on it?
[ He's going to joke about that rather than overthink whether it's even something he can joke about since that's too close to old times, but maybe it'll help he says it in a sort of distracted way as he's already taking one slow step after another towards the wyvern. Who, meanwhile, is looking very vigilant as if realizing its incoming fate in the next few moments, and it responds with a small wing lift and something suspiciously like a hiss. ]
Not today, thank you. Wouldn't you rather have a snack instead?
[ Now Claude crouches down which lowers none of the wyvern's wariness, and remembering the jerky in his hand he breaks off a tiny piece of it to stretch out and leave it as an offering, if it doesn't also come with being snapped at. ]
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[ The joke lands, as flippant as it is. But because it's flippant, she responds with a sense of wryness mixed in with her airy but truthful reply (her wyvern apparently was also not immune from her ways).
The thought of Waffle hadn't been too far from her mind ever since she had sighted the baby wyvern. The Horizon had helped soothe some of the balm of missing him, but it wasn't the same. Because of the Horizon substitute, Hilda hadn't stopped to consider that she might never see Waffle again. And if she feels that way, she can't begin to imagine how Claude may feel about not seeing his wyvern.
The hiss they receive from the wyvern prompts her to kneel down, making herself smaller and extending her jerky out too. Out of habit she gives her best doe eyes and a croon. ]
It's pretty tasty. And if you come with us we can get you something even tastier.
[ Another ruffle of its wings. The hiss it gives this time is a little less shrill as it clicks cautiously towards them. ]
That's a good wyvern.
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Yeah, like - something probably not flavored with peppers like this is.
[ That's said apologetically, as though wyverns have deep and serious feelings about peppers, and the wyvern blinks back at him. That's better than a hiss so he'll take it even if it stops moving, so Claude reaches to leave another chunk of jerky next to the first one and then nudges both closer. ]
You're in luck, though, since not only are the markets not far from here but there's usually a butcher who puts the best cuts of meat out right about now, so you know what that means. [ Is he having a full on conversation with this wyvern chewing on one of the pieces of jerky still looking at them both with deep skepticism? Yes, he is. It's working though, Claude thinks, since the wyvern goes to take the other piece of jerky and this time without keeping eyes on them the entire time it moves. ] If you're guessing that means we're about to go take you to find the best of the best cut, you'd be right.
[ Second jerky chunk finished, the wyvern now looks at him expectantly and in a move reminiscent of when he'd wanted his wyvern to do what he wanted when she was a baby, Claude palms his remaining jerky and holds both his hands up with a sad look as if to say, all gone! Very unfortunate for anyone with wings and scales that's still hungry.
That means the wyvern looks next to what Hilda's extending and there's another clear calculation happening as it creeps closer. Claude, for his part, doesn't move a muscle when it puts one tentative clawed foot on his boot to start the process of climbing closer and across him to where Hilda waits. ]
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[ The intrusive thought that Claude looks positively adorable as he carries on a full conversation with the wyvern crosses her mind and there's the unmistakeable sound of amusement in her voice. Unable to help herself she smiles, eyes flitting towards him just in time to watch the theatrics of jerky disappearing plays out for the baby wyvern. Had she not been privy to this sort of thing before, had she not done something incredibly similar to Waffle when she had been gaining his trust, she probably would have poked more fun at Claude. Then again, that had been another time and another place when she and Claude weren't brought together by a message that shouldn't have been sent in the first place.
It's easier to tell herself that the smile has everything to do with the way the baby wyvern is slowly making its way over to them. Their talons clack against the rooftop, hopping clumsily over Claude's boot towards her outstretched hand. ]
But he's right, you know. The cuts at the butcher are so yummy. We'll get you anything you want. How long have you gone without eating, hm?
[ It finally conquers the obstacle of Claude's boots, screeching softly like it's answering her. They clatter the last several inches towards her, small teeth scraping lightly but enthusiastically against her fingers. They break skin and Hilda almost flinches backwards as a result – but with the wyvern now sandwiched between them, it's the perfect opportunity for Claude to grab a hold of it.
There's a sharp intake of breath from Hilda as she wills herself to stay still while reaching for the other piece of jerky in her pocket. As she swaps hands, she can see bright blood droplets appear on her fingers. There's a huff of a laugh from her as her eyes go to Claude, quietly signaling to him that if he's going grab the wyvern now would be the time to do it. ]
A long time apparently.
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The small screech brings a smile to his face, but it's wiped away a second later by a sympathetic wince when those teeth hit somewhere both less protected and more painful on Hilda. It's the distraction he needs - even at the cost of her fingers - to grab it around its middle and immediately be smacked by a wing to the face. ]
I know, I know. The injustice of it all.
[ Said soothingly in response to the upset noise which follows, and after a bit of wrangling he carefully folds those wings up to clutch the wyvern to his chest with a hand over them to keep it from flailing back and forth. When that's tackled, it immediately starts to bite ineffectively at his gloves to communicate its unhappiness in between more screeches, and he sits talking gently to soothe it.
Nothing about that seems to work, so here follows a bit of further bribery when he reveals that palmed jerky and holds it for the wyvern to gnaw on instead of either of them. That distraction means Claude feels safe enough to lean over to look at Hilda's fingers with a slight grimace. ]
I didn't miss those days but looks like plenty of them are in our future now. I can heal those for you when this one's feeling less like escaping.
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She's rooting around in her bag for a handkerchief or something when Claude offers up something unexpected. Or two something's rather. Unable to concentrate on multiple things at a time in this already confusing scenario however, Hilda brain latches on to the latter half of what he'd said.
Extracting the handkerchief from her bag, she's quick to apply pressure to it. Normally she'd be quick to take him up on his offer. Why yes, he should be taking responsibility for her newly acquired wound. She'd even go as far as to demand that he kiss it better. Except why would he want to touch her after being barely able to stand the thought of being in a warehouse with her? It's flustering and confusing in the most bizarre way. ]
I'll be fine. [ A small wince suggests otherwise. ] I just hope that there isn't some kind of poisonous variation of wyvern roaming around.
[ That would be just her luck, wouldn't it? Sparing a glance towards the wyvern who has been momentarily sated by the jerky given to him by Claude, she realizes she can't be too put out by it. How does it know any better? And it's just so cute gnawing away at the piece of jerky. ]
We'll just have to teach it not to bite when someone is trying to feed it, I guess. Do you think it needs water? I have a waterskin in my bag.
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You won't be if you're planning on working on any of your projects with one hand down today. [ It's matter-of-fact and in a way Claude recognizes he's not exactly entitled to do anymore what with the outright canyon of everything stretching between them he's reminding himself of, so he shakes his head. Not quite in apology since he doesn't think he's wrong, just - ] I learned that the hard way when Sa- Dawn was little. She wanted to bite me at all times until we worked on that.
[ Even though he'd caught himself, nostalgia blanks out the rest considering it's something he thinks this wyvern will have in common with his if the last couple minutes have been anything to go by as he looks down to check the jerky status. Only a little bit left now thanks to that hunger, but he's positive his fingers will again be the next target when it's gone. Nothing that can't be taught as Hilda's said and a phase which won't last long, with any luck, but right now he can't even bring himself to dread being bitten when he's still working to wrap his mind around there even being a wyvern here with them both. ]
Water's a good idea since it's warm out here today. You wouldn't happen to have a dish or container to put it in, would you? I'd offer what's in my bag, but - [ slightly sheepish look here because Claude's self-aware enough to know how predictable this is - ] I was testing out some new plants and I don't think there's any risk, but probably not worth taking it anyway.
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Don't you dare speak that into existence, Claude von Riegan.
[ She almost continues to say that her hands have suffered worse over the last several weeks. Learning how to work on a larger anvil and a forge meant dealing with the work place injuries that came with it. Her fingers and hands had suffered burns and her fingers had been crushed under a hammer because she hadn't been paying as much attention as she should have been. But she stops herself short. Claude doesn't want to hear about any of that.
Her punctured fingers aren't enough to distract from the fact that he almost said something that wasn't Dawn but before she can inquire further, he says something that is so typically Claude that she has to roll her eyes. ]
Of course you were. [ With some difficulty she ties off the handkerchief around her finger. It's loose and probably won't hold for long, but it'll suffice for the task of pulling out her waterskin. ] I don't have anything, I'll just have to feed it by hand.
[ She plants her butt on the roof, albeit a little precariously just as the wyvern finishes the jerky. The unstopping of the cork draws its attention and she takes the moment of stillness to grasp either side of its small head to guide it towards the mouth of the waterskin. It wriggles slightly in Claude's arms but upon realizing that there's water being fed to it, it stills, drinking eagerly. Hilda wonders absently if she should ask about what he had almost said; is it worth it? Should she bother? The silence is too much for her though and she has to break it. ]
I thought your wyvern's name was Dawn. You almost said something else.
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Something he'll have to communicate through looking at the handkerchief fleetingly before back at the wyvern as she semi-chides him for whatever it is in his bag that he's not fully mentioning, and watching as it watches her looking for something it'll enjoy. As Hilda moves to sit he resists the impulse to reach out and offer a steadying hand; she's in no danger of falling but it's yet another old habit it feels like he'll never need to stop reminding himself to let go of when it no longer applies.
Better to set that aside and helpfully shift the wyvern as much as he can to make it easier for her without giving it a chance to flee his grasp, though the water seems to be convincing enough that maybe, just maybe they aren't meaning to harm it. That's enough for a fond smile of his own what with all those memories of a different wyvern from a different time crowding in here, even if this time there's a distinct advantage in being an adult rather than a kid when it comes to this whole restraint thing.
But - Claude expected that slip up to not go unnoticed. It would've been too fortunate if it hadn't after all that distraction, though he still pauses briefly. ]
Her name's Dawn in Fodlan's language, but it's Sahar in Almyra's.
[ By way of explanation as he gently shifts the wyvern in his arms again to this time tentatively run a gloved finger over its forehead scales. There's a grumble in between drinking water but nothing else. That's another step in the right direction as the smile stays on his face but his gaze goes out of focus slightly as if he's looking at something both here and not. ]
She hatched right before daybreak and I was too excited to think of anything else as a name, so it stuck.
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Discomfort settles on her shoulders. She hates that she still recognizes that sliver of truthfulness in his person; it isn't for her though, reminds herself. It's because they're reminiscing about things left behind in Fodlan that they may or may not ever see again. And not only that, she wonders again, briefly, how she should feel knowing that he was being truthful with her now about something that brushed so lightly against something some part of her resented him for not telling her about. Is it a sly way of rubbing it in her face? Was it a rare slip up from the man who stored everything under ten impossible to crack locks and keys? A quiet voice reminds her however that her family's history with the Almyrans probably hadn't helped matters so really, isn't this her fault in some way?
At this moment there's little room in her heart for resentment. It's been softened by that look on his face and the longing in his voice for times past. It melts at the thought of a younger Claude, holding a smaller Sahar in his arms. Her eyes dare to flit towards him. ]
Sahar. [ Her tongue feels out the sound of Dawn's name, a small smile tugging at her lips. ] It's beautiful. If it came to you that easily, it probably was meant to be her name. [ She lapses into silence, letting the sound of the wyvern continuing to drink fill the space between them. It's broken up by a quiet huff from her. ] I wish I had been able to see Waffle when he had hatched. Then he wouldn't have ended up with the name Waffenzahn.
[ Her eyes flit away from Claude again, focusing on the little wyvern in her his arms. ]
You could name this little one something in Almyran if you wanted to. It seems fitting.
[ Is it an olive branch? Maybe. Then again, she doesn't think he's ready to broker peace just yet even over a wyvern. ]
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Something which feels so far away now, even more so than Sahar herself, or the monastery grounds, or even the home he'd once found so long as she was there, too. All wishes sealed away for good despite the faint smile on his face since it's easier to keep it there and let it stretch a little wider at what she says. Meant to be - maybe it was after all. Claude can't, however, resist an immediate laugh when it comes to Waffle's naming. ]
Waffenzahn is certainly - [ with a beat going by - ] a distinctive name. As is Waffle, since Geralt asked if that meant he hatched eating waffles. You could always say that's the case.
[ This wyvern, however, seems to finally have had enough to drink and possibly eat until they find an actual meal, but so far Hilda's fingers seem to be the only casualty as he keeps stroking its forehead and then moves to one of its horns. Despite wariness, that gets a wyvern head leaned into his hand immediately. Another way in which he'd won Sahar over once upon a time.
His hand comes to a pause at what she says next, and Claude looks up without lifting his head to find Hilda not looking at him but at the wyvern. It's not what he expected to hear, and surprise is equally tempered with curiosity. Maybe he shouldn't overthink this either. ]
We could. [ Said slowly, as if there's deep thought behind it while he screws his face up into a thinking expression to look up properly at the sun briefly before looking back to Hilda with a serious expression next. ] I'm not sure you want me to follow my other precedent, considering I think that means this wyvern ends up named 'building' or close to it.
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Waffenzahn is close enough to Waffle. And it caught on. [ Her smile turns fond as she extends a finger out to slowly run it down the wyvern's snout as she recalls another memory she had forgotten under layers of dust and grime from the war. ] I think I even heard Setheth slip up and use it once.
[ As silly as it was, that had been a proud moment for her. A bright glimmer in an otherwise awful time. At his suggestion about the naming convention she can't help but bite back a laugh. ]
I guess that depends. Does it sound pretty at least? Because I might consider it if it does.
[ Something she says catches her off guard. It's the implication that she has any say in this at all. Sure she saw the wyvern first but that doesn't mean it's theirs. If anything it's his. There's no "we". Not anymore. A peace talk that she had promised Sylvain she'd have with Claude didn't come in the form of joint custody over a wyvern. Besides, she isn't equipped to take care of a wyvern herself, not when they'd had stable hands assisting them in Fodlan, and the Old Public House and Cyprian's attic didn't have the room to keep a wyvern. Quickly she amends herself. ]
I mean, you'd have the final say since it'll be staying with you at the loft. But you probably won't hear the end of it from Sylvain if you name it "Building" or "Jerky".
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Claude's no stranger to Hilda amending something after saying it, most of the time to remove herself from whatever it was if there'd been a bit too much associated with it no matter what the 'too much' in question was, but - this is different. This is a purposeful subtraction, a deliberate sidestep - something intentional beyond all those playful whines and protests of being asked to do work or something like it. All things he'd learned to see through in time for where to interject in something playful and meant to sway her, but this?
This he hates, because the opportunity is there but hesitation he'd never had before holds him back from taking it anyway. All those playful comments build up anyway just waiting to be used and he holds them back with each one tasting sourer than the last as they dissolve on his tongue with nowhere to go. One more exhausting reminder of the state of things he doesn't know how to fix or whether they even can be when he thinks again about a jewelry box on a floor.
Even as soon as he does, a wave of that exhaustion comes to tug at him with the understanding he's holding back again. No more - not when that had gotten them both here in the first place. ]
And what if I wanted to never hear the end of it from you?
[ A check instead of a bet to find out the stakes of advancing first. A careful motion in any card game and one he uses now with that intention; Hilda's right that Sylvain will be full of (deserved) eye rolls over any such names, but what if those aren't the only thing he wants? ]
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So when Claude had suddenly begun to read between the lines it had taken her by surprise. At first she hadn't lingered on the thought too much; she had chalked it up to flukes the first couple of times. He was smart after all. But then she became used to being seen by him, even enjoyed the playful back and forth they had developed even if it meant having to do work she was trying to avoid. She didn't think she'd ever have that again.
Claude's words freeze something in her pleasant expression. That tone of his, the weighted measure of his words, is all too familiar to her. He's trying to test the waters, she realizes. Wants to see where she stands. But for what reason? Sylvain's voice faintly echoes in the back of her mind buried under a haze of alcohol: Claude thought she was important to him. Maybe that was true once upon a time, but why would he now when he has Sylvain? Why would he when he cared so deeply for Petra who is all the things she never would or could be? Surely it's not just for sentimental reasons.
There's plenty of things she could say in this situation. But instead she settles on a forced lightness in an effort to dispel nerves and hope as she averts her gaze back towards the wyvern who is all but becoming a puddle in Claude's touch. ]
I'm not sure what you mean by that. We haven't exactly been on speaking terms.
[ Better to be up front about it, she thinks. But there's a line of curiosity that runs through her words, an invitation to expand because a part of her wants to know. ]
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In the past he would've attempted to draw it out with this prodding question or that one and maybe with some teasing sprinkled in for good measure to round it all out. Claude sits silently with the only noise in the pause being the wyvern's grumbles, unbelievable as they are from enjoying the attention. Patience isn't new to him when it's a skill he'd picked up long ago even with the conflicting feeling of impatience in wanting to know what she'll say. Waiting wins out since whether or not Hilda chooses to answer is up to her. It'd be better to not interfere; on this, he wants her honest response.
When she settles on a cheerful deflection, a volley of an unseen ball back to him to see what he does with it, Claude has to work to restrain the twist of his mouth that'd be a giveaway to wanting to smile from surfacing at all. It'd give the wrong impression, even as he's not going to settle for what she says. ]
I think you know exactly what I mean.
[ The latter part of what she'd said - he's not going to address that. No need to point out the obvious, and especially so when it'd merely leave another way for a wedge to be driven in. Or worse, it'd become another distraction for one or both of them to latch onto to get away from the topic Claude actually wants to pursue. Even if those words are said in something like nonchalance, something to hide a deeper meaning behind like he'd used as one of his many shields over the years Hilda had equally learned to look beyond, he certainly still means them. ]
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She'd laugh if only if she were a 100% certain that there wouldn't be a spark of annoyance through it, a remnant of their fight. He's too smart to not have known what that response would elicit in her. Her gaze lifts just in time to see the telltale twist of his lips trying to hide a smile that she knows threatens to show. Jerk. Although even that is thought with more affection than venom. It was just another reminder of what she loved and hated about Claude.
But she refuses to move another inch. Stubbornness rears its head and her eyes stayed trained on him with a look of challenge and defiance that doesn't match the good natured smile on her face. If he wasn't going to settle for what she had said, she isn't either. This too was an old habit of theirs. Hypothetical chicken until someone caved and said what they really wanted despite being fully aware of what it was, all thanks to being able to read between the other's lines. ]
I might. But I'd rather hear what you really mean.
[ Her patience was in good form today, but she knew there was only so much she could actually take. The time that stretched between them and their fight, was an indication that what she wanted and needed from him had changed. Maybe she had outgrown playing guessing games with him when it came to things that mattered. She couldn't be sustained on what if's and hope anymore. She wanted something tangible to stand on, to know exactly where she stood whether it was an answer she wanted to hear or not. ]
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But all this does is bring about that frayed edge feeling playing about everything the way it has ever since, and all at the same time his own stubbornness rises to remind him he wasn't the one who closed the door on everything. Which might be true, or it perhaps not depending on the lens through which it's viewed, but continuing to view it that way won't do anything but continue to open this particular wound again and again, won't it?
Claude's silent as he looks down to the wyvern now resting its chin on his hand, apparently resigned to its fate of being loved on and held though he can tell it's as alert as ever. Probably can sense the tension, if he had to guess, if only because Sahar had learned to do the same with everything that went on though unlike Sahar looking for something to defend against this wyvern will be waiting for a chance to flee. Something he can relate to, though now his own tendency to run takes a seat to the side.
One step at a time, he thinks, and then he looks up. ]
I mean I want you to stop staying everywhere else that isn't the loft like you don't already have somewhere to call home, to begin with.
[ Because that seems like the easiest thing to ask for, of all the things, especially when most of them are things Claude's not even certain he can ask for or if it'd even be worth it. This is something direct enough while still being indirect to the rest. Hilda's made clear there's nothing keeping her here, after all. Even the wyvern had been somewhat brushed off as something to reside only at the loft where she wouldn't be, as though she'd already carefully excised herself from any possibilities there. A familiar pattern from their time here, he's come to realize, which leads to another thought to nudge that door open further. ]
I don't understand why you left, and it wasn't because we fought. That's not the reason when you were already barely there before then.
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Claude overhearing her conversation with Cyprian that day in the warehouse hadn’t been forgotten. A part of her had briefly worried what he’d do with that information before dismissing that feeling altogether. The answer is that he would do nothing with it because if he did, that wouldn’t fit into the narrative she had built around him explicitly not caring. That’s why she has so much trouble comprehending this turn of events.
Whatever bravery she’d had before shrinks slightly at the word ‘home’ and her smile disappears altogether. The loft had been intended to be a place for them, but home in Abraxas wasn’t so much a physical place as it was a person. Or two persons, rather. Her heart pangs at the loss. She withdraws her hand from the wyvern’s head going instead to fiddle nervously with the badly wrapped handkerchief around her finger. It would be easy to bite back with a bitter retort but she answers with some level of honesty instead. ]
It’s not my place to call home anymore. Especially after we fought.
[ She could leave it there because it’s both a response and an answer to his non-question. But if she wanted to stop being so selfish, so awful, and this would give him peace of mind so he could move on from them to start new with someone else then maybe that was the final act of kindness she could give someone who had once been her best friend. ]
That and I wanted to give you and Sylvain more space to be together.
[ Which is again something that just skims the surface of something she can’t bring herself to touch upon but she hopes he won’t venture further either. ]
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Even more so when her next answer has him stilling in place and focusing on her, ignoring the wyvern's complaint about the attention stopping. That's a sentence with a lot of things packed into it and something which has the edges of his mind itching to pull it apart, to examine everything possibly within. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't hesitate to do that.
And it's not even hesitation here that's stopping him, but something more like common sense: he can try to extrapolate what she means from a handful of words if he wants to keep making the same mistakes over and over. It'd be a good way to throw them into another cycle of whatever this is instead of what they'd been going around and around in. Claude ignores the call of frustration and shakes his head, determined to take emotion out of this. As much as it can be, anyway, and with whatever's needed to prevent this from becoming yet another confrontation he doesn't want. ]
Maybe I didn't want that, Hilda. [ A huff follows that, entirely at himself, since - why the qualifier? Time to try again. ] I take that back: I didn't want that and I still don't. None of what you just said has ever been on the list of things I'd call wants. I'm not trying to argue, I promise you I'm not. But I do want to understand, if you'll tell me.
[ An admission of sorts: that Claude's turned all over his over and over in his mind and felt he was never any closer to any answers, that what those answers might be are assumptions - that he's tired of pretending there's not whatever's going unsaid here from one or both of them which sent everything on a collision course. ]
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The handkerchief comes undone with an easy tug revealing the bright spots of blood staining its fabric. Trying to tie it again serves as both a focal point and a distraction so she doesn’t have to look at Claude. Despite that she can feel her heart racing, her brain buzzing, a tug at the base of her skull — she doesn’t want to have this conversation. She isn’t capable of it, doesn’t possess the bravery to. Unsurprisingly it’s easier to talk about her feelings with someone partly removed like Wanda and practically impossible when it involves the person in question.
Internally she’s torn; this is what she’s wanted for weeks. She’s missed his presence like he’s a part of her but now that he’s in front of her, she’d rather leap from rooftop to rooftop than have this conversation. Maybe that was still on the table — if she could tie this damn handkerchief first that is. ]
What do you mean you don’t want that? [ Hilda lets out a sound that is equal parts frustrated huff and laugh at how absurd this is. ] Claude, I slapped you and practically threw you onto the ground when we were in the Feywilds. I said awful things to you that weren’t true. Why would you want to share a space with me after that? I wouldn’t.
[ The ends of the handkerchief continue to slip despite her best efforts, and she lets out an annoyed sound. Words continue to spill from her as she tries in vain to succeed in her task, these ones edging a little closer to the truth than anything else she’s said before. ]
And why do you want to? You have Sylvain. You had Petra. You don’t need me. I’m not anything like them which is fine because I don’t need a pity party or praise, but if you were done being friends with me you could have just told me. You don’t have to be nice to me just because I was summoned here and because we have history. I knew it wasn’t going to last anyway, especially when I found out you were leaving for Almyra.
[ That letter in his domain had confirmed some of her worst fears about their finite relationship. Why delay the inevitable then? Why prolong the hurt? ]
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He's about to make a quip about not forgetting the being shoved in mud that'd happened in there in between both of those - might as well make sure there's a whole picture of what's happened in a morbidly entertaining sort of way, if it can even be called that, but what she says doesn't end there. I said awful things to you that weren't true, Hilda says, and a crease appears in his brow. True doesn't change that she didn't mean them so that's what he'll point out instead, except that what she says next ceases any thoughts to cross his mind at all when it feels like a bolt of lightning rattles around his brain.
Whatever breath is in his lungs leaves it. If he were thinking clearly, there's threads in there he can follow down to what's not being said. As it is, all he can do is think around the outline of it, one step away from getting it entirely. ]
How little do you think of me that you believe any of what you just said is how I actually feel about you?
[ It's said quietly with the pained expression on his face he's too aware of being all too real as he looks back at her. Even though his arms are still around the wyvern it's all but forgotten; he'd meant to leave that question there and let it stand but now it registers she's rebandaging her hand because she means to leave. With that understanding, Claude shifts his grip to prevent any wyvern escape just because he's distracted before reaching out his own free hand to curl gloved fingers lightly around her nearest forearm to keep her there, if only for a moment. ]
My leaving for Almyra doesn't mean anything has to end, now or later. I don't understand how--
[ But no sooner is the first part of that sentence out of his mouth than something else starts slowly sinking in, and the already loose grip he has on her goes even slacker. ]
I thought you didn't want me with how clear you've made that lately, let alone since you arrived.
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None of those things had come to pass though. Instead she’s left with runway to ramble on, as if rushing through this explanation means she can leave this hot rooftop sooner and her civic duty to both Sylvain and Claude could be considered complete. But then she hears the sliver of hurt in Claude’s voice when he poses that question to her. It’s like a glass shard that worms its way into her own heart. That would have been enough to halt in her in her tracks, but then he reaches out to grasp her forearm and her frantic motions come to a screeching halt.
Her eyes snap up to look at him seeing how pained he looks, as if his voice hadn’t been enough evidence of that. The buzzing in her head gets louder to the point where she can’t hear her own thoughts. All she can focus on his Claude and how hurt he looks, and how her first thought is how she wants to reach over to cup his face, like her fingers smoothing out the lines between his brow would be enough to dispel it from him.
The word “want” tugs at a loose thread in her brain, like she’d had to clarify that definition with someone else recently. But with everything else being said, about how a return to Almyra didn’t mean the end, and how he felt about her - it’s hard to focus on that right now. ]
I don’t know how you feel about me because you’ve never told me! [ Her voice raises slightly, causing the baby wyvern to hiss at the sudden cracking quality of her voice. She tries to steel herself - she wouldn’t cry even if it meant having the baby wyvern bite her again because she’s so tired of crying over men. ] The only time you said anything about that while we’ve been here was when you said in less words that I was dumb and couldn’t see what was in front of me.
How was I supposed to want you when I saw how close you were with the others? [ The arm Claude is holding falls limply to her lap and despair begins to edge into her voice. ] There’s practically a year between us in time if you count how long you’ve been here. I could see how you had changed. I saw how you looked at Petra and how you look at Sylvain even if you don’t think you are looking at them a certain way. [ Her voice grows small again, the last part deflating her entirely. ] I thought you had outgrown me.
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