[ Hilda jumps and he braces himself in determination to not have a repeat of crashing down to the warehouse floor. Especially not when the ground is now a good amount farther below and likely no more forgiving than the floor had been, but she lands in his arms. Safely, he thinks, then lets go of that word almost instantly, nearly in the same moment that he makes sure she's steady from the short drop before he lets go of her.
It's not enough to prevent the small current when she opens her eyes, some kind of magnetism he wills himself to forget when it has no place here. Something else he'll have to let go of as he takes a half step back and murmurs an of course in response before looking out to the alleyway they've ended up in. ]
Well, it's not the most exciting escape, but at least we did it ourselves.
[ Or some other meager consolation he's half-heartedly pretending he means while dropping down to the next crate in the stack to get ever closer to leaving like it'll help wash away any of this from his mind. It won't; it'll be there waiting to fester painfully with everything else. It's the kind of thing he promises himself while knowing full well all of it will circle around his thoughts tonight, tomorrow, for any number of days yet to come when he's reminded of all of it while looking at the fragments of her still all around his room.
He can't, he thinks, bring himself to remove them just yet even if Hilda's already taken that step for herself. ]
On the plus side, now you know a way out if that warehouse door gets any more ideas.
It's not enough to prevent the small current when she opens her eyes, some kind of magnetism he wills himself to forget when it has no place here. Something else he'll have to let go of as he takes a half step back and murmurs an of course in response before looking out to the alleyway they've ended up in. ]
Well, it's not the most exciting escape, but at least we did it ourselves.
[ Or some other meager consolation he's half-heartedly pretending he means while dropping down to the next crate in the stack to get ever closer to leaving like it'll help wash away any of this from his mind. It won't; it'll be there waiting to fester painfully with everything else. It's the kind of thing he promises himself while knowing full well all of it will circle around his thoughts tonight, tomorrow, for any number of days yet to come when he's reminded of all of it while looking at the fragments of her still all around his room.
He can't, he thinks, bring himself to remove them just yet even if Hilda's already taken that step for herself. ]
On the plus side, now you know a way out if that warehouse door gets any more ideas.
He can be a bit of a drama wyvern but he's my wyvern so it shouldn't be that much of a surprise.
[ Affection oozes out of her as she speaks; it's clear how much she adores her wyvern. The steps to the aerie appear and she leads them up the winding staircase up and up until the sound - and smell - of the wyvern's becomes more apparent.
Outside the door is a small feeding room filled with supplies and buckets of meat and tongs. The nice thing about the Horizon is that she didn't have to do the unpleasant task of preparing any of it – it was already done for her. She tosses Sam a pair of gloves before handing him some tongs and a bucket. She cracks the door to the aerie ajar. ]
Now when we go in, make eye contact with him and give him some of the meat.
[ The room is large and circular, split into several nests for the wyvern's. A pleasant breeze drifts through the large windows looking out onto the grounds and Horizon beyond. As she pushes it open further, three pairs of eyes immediately turn to the newcomers.
One wyvern is the oldest of the bunch, burly with thick muscles, battle scars and a perpetual glower. The brass name plate on his stall reads "Buri". Laying in the stall next to him is a wyvern named "Adelheid". She's slimmer, lithe, with curious, bright eyes. Finally, in the stall across from them reads the name, "Waffenzahn". He's in-between Buri and Adelheid in size, but clearly the youngest of the three if his puppy-like energy is any indication. Pink ribbons are tied around his horns. But upon seeing Sam, he bares his teeth, a low growl emitting from his throat. Hilda clicks her tongue, breezing into the room. ]
Waffle, be nice. This is Sam, my friend.
[ Affection oozes out of her as she speaks; it's clear how much she adores her wyvern. The steps to the aerie appear and she leads them up the winding staircase up and up until the sound - and smell - of the wyvern's becomes more apparent.
Outside the door is a small feeding room filled with supplies and buckets of meat and tongs. The nice thing about the Horizon is that she didn't have to do the unpleasant task of preparing any of it – it was already done for her. She tosses Sam a pair of gloves before handing him some tongs and a bucket. She cracks the door to the aerie ajar. ]
Now when we go in, make eye contact with him and give him some of the meat.
[ The room is large and circular, split into several nests for the wyvern's. A pleasant breeze drifts through the large windows looking out onto the grounds and Horizon beyond. As she pushes it open further, three pairs of eyes immediately turn to the newcomers.
One wyvern is the oldest of the bunch, burly with thick muscles, battle scars and a perpetual glower. The brass name plate on his stall reads "Buri". Laying in the stall next to him is a wyvern named "Adelheid". She's slimmer, lithe, with curious, bright eyes. Finally, in the stall across from them reads the name, "Waffenzahn". He's in-between Buri and Adelheid in size, but clearly the youngest of the three if his puppy-like energy is any indication. Pink ribbons are tied around his horns. But upon seeing Sam, he bares his teeth, a low growl emitting from his throat. Hilda clicks her tongue, breezing into the room. ]
Waffle, be nice. This is Sam, my friend.
[ The hurt lingers even with the alcohol. It lingers even as the shampoo is washed from her hair. What doesn't linger however is the determination with which she had so fiercely told herself that she'd hold fast to tomorrow once sleep had come and gone.
The voice telling her that she's been all the awful things she fears rears its head; that even if she will be okay when he doesn't reciprocate her feelings, it is what she deserves. It is what she'll deserve until she becomes less of a bitter, jealous thing that shouldn't touch the happy, soft thing he and Claude are creating. The soft negative voice chips away bit by bit as the water cools and her hair is cleaned and washed until her determination is nothing but a whimper.
The softness of the towel rouses her and her fingers gently grasp the edges of the towel to hold the warmth of the bath to her as long as she can. Weariness weighs her down and she rubs her eyes gently. ]
Just a short one. I'm supposed to go back to the Old Public Hall. And then you can go snuggle with Claude.
[ That's the way it should be after all, she thinks. This small happiness will be enough, one last selfish act and she'll try and be better tomorrow. ]
The voice telling her that she's been all the awful things she fears rears its head; that even if she will be okay when he doesn't reciprocate her feelings, it is what she deserves. It is what she'll deserve until she becomes less of a bitter, jealous thing that shouldn't touch the happy, soft thing he and Claude are creating. The soft negative voice chips away bit by bit as the water cools and her hair is cleaned and washed until her determination is nothing but a whimper.
The softness of the towel rouses her and her fingers gently grasp the edges of the towel to hold the warmth of the bath to her as long as she can. Weariness weighs her down and she rubs her eyes gently. ]
Just a short one. I'm supposed to go back to the Old Public Hall. And then you can go snuggle with Claude.
[ That's the way it should be after all, she thinks. This small happiness will be enough, one last selfish act and she'll try and be better tomorrow. ]
[ She's holding her breath up until the moment her lets her go. Hilda tells herself that it has nothing to do with the contact and being so close to him, and everything to do with having just leapt into his arms while he stood on a pile of crates.
Gracefully she climbs off after him, quietly mirroring his thoughts. While no part of him existed in the new spaces she had created for herself, she still feels his presence. It's annoying how it has soaked through to her bones. How no matter how much effort she puts in to forget him (more effort than she's ever put into forgetting someone), she can't shake him.
Could she? And if so, how? Did she want to?
She's pulled from thoughts, belatedly realizing she had been staring at the back of his head. It could probably be played off like she's staring down the alleyway and the crowd that passes by on the other side, blissfully unaware about her strife and the awkwardness at the other end. ]
As long as those crates don't move. Otherwise I'll have a further way to fall than just into your arms.
[ Briefly she lapses into silence, feet leaden and heavy again. ]
I should go tell Cyprian and get my things. Are you planning on heading back into the warehouse?
[ If he were, she could make up an excuse to linger in the workshop until he was done. How else did you say goodbye to someone you weren't speaking to? ]
Gracefully she climbs off after him, quietly mirroring his thoughts. While no part of him existed in the new spaces she had created for herself, she still feels his presence. It's annoying how it has soaked through to her bones. How no matter how much effort she puts in to forget him (more effort than she's ever put into forgetting someone), she can't shake him.
Could she? And if so, how? Did she want to?
She's pulled from thoughts, belatedly realizing she had been staring at the back of his head. It could probably be played off like she's staring down the alleyway and the crowd that passes by on the other side, blissfully unaware about her strife and the awkwardness at the other end. ]
As long as those crates don't move. Otherwise I'll have a further way to fall than just into your arms.
[ Briefly she lapses into silence, feet leaden and heavy again. ]
I should go tell Cyprian and get my things. Are you planning on heading back into the warehouse?
[ If he were, she could make up an excuse to linger in the workshop until he was done. How else did you say goodbye to someone you weren't speaking to? ]
[ He presses a soft kiss to her forehead as he carries her down the hall towards her room. ]
He doesn’t snuggle nearly as well as you do.
[ He can feel the lingering hurt, doesn’t know how to take that back without venturing into topics that are just going to cause more pain first. For both of them. He knows that without the alcohol talking, she’d remember that he’s not what she wants but that Claude’s still painfully out of reach until these two can sort out their emotions.
Were they anyone else, he wouldn’t feel so bad about taking advantage of that. But he hadn’t been lying when he said he hated seeing her so sad, that he missed her smiles and laughter. He missed Claude’s too. They’d both become a little dimmer in the weeks since their fight, like they’d doused too much of that inner warmth that shown so brightly from both of them. He wanted to see that back more than just about anything.
He nudges her door open with his foot, her room clean and tidy and just as she’d left it. Carrying her over to the bed, he lays her down and crawls in beside her, wrapping his arms around her and tugging her closer. ]
Come here. I’ve missed this, too.
He doesn’t snuggle nearly as well as you do.
[ He can feel the lingering hurt, doesn’t know how to take that back without venturing into topics that are just going to cause more pain first. For both of them. He knows that without the alcohol talking, she’d remember that he’s not what she wants but that Claude’s still painfully out of reach until these two can sort out their emotions.
Were they anyone else, he wouldn’t feel so bad about taking advantage of that. But he hadn’t been lying when he said he hated seeing her so sad, that he missed her smiles and laughter. He missed Claude’s too. They’d both become a little dimmer in the weeks since their fight, like they’d doused too much of that inner warmth that shown so brightly from both of them. He wanted to see that back more than just about anything.
He nudges her door open with his foot, her room clean and tidy and just as she’d left it. Carrying her over to the bed, he lays her down and crawls in beside her, wrapping his arms around her and tugging her closer. ]
Come here. I’ve missed this, too.
That's only because he doesn't have big boobs.
[ The reply is murmured before she can stifle it - not that she'd be ashamed to say as much sober. It's the truth even without the alcohol because if there's one thing she can be confident about it's her breasts. ]
If he did, my snuggling title would be in danger.
[ Having that title is perhaps the only thing that she has over Claude. Not that it's a competition or anything. But despite what Sylvain thinks his embrace is exactly what she needs. Not because there is an absence of Claude or anyone else but because there is safety in these arms.
Hilda snuggles back into him, arms pulling him tighter around her midsection in order to dispel what little space is between them. Her fingers tangle into his, the warmth of his body softening the harsh edges of the feelings she had been feeling. Tension slowly seeps from body as her eyes flutter closed. ]
I miss you, Sylvain. I wanted to see the feywilds with you.
[ The reply is murmured before she can stifle it - not that she'd be ashamed to say as much sober. It's the truth even without the alcohol because if there's one thing she can be confident about it's her breasts. ]
If he did, my snuggling title would be in danger.
[ Having that title is perhaps the only thing that she has over Claude. Not that it's a competition or anything. But despite what Sylvain thinks his embrace is exactly what she needs. Not because there is an absence of Claude or anyone else but because there is safety in these arms.
Hilda snuggles back into him, arms pulling him tighter around her midsection in order to dispel what little space is between them. Her fingers tangle into his, the warmth of his body softening the harsh edges of the feelings she had been feeling. Tension slowly seeps from body as her eyes flutter closed. ]
I miss you, Sylvain. I wanted to see the feywilds with you.
[ Her comment gets a quiet snicker from him. ] The boobs are a nice bonus, not gonna lie. But your snuggling title would never be in danger either way. It’s all yours, sweetheart.
[ He drags her blanket up over them both, even as he settles down with her in his arms, letting her wiggle as close as she wanted. He stays wrapped around her, holding her close, his chin resting atop her head. She fits so perfectly here, that it brings a soft smile to his lips.
Her confession has him pressing another soft kiss to the top of her head as he lets one hand stroke softly up and down her arm. ]
Then we’ll go back and explore it together next time, you and me.
[ He drags her blanket up over them both, even as he settles down with her in his arms, letting her wiggle as close as she wanted. He stays wrapped around her, holding her close, his chin resting atop her head. She fits so perfectly here, that it brings a soft smile to his lips.
Her confession has him pressing another soft kiss to the top of her head as he lets one hand stroke softly up and down her arm. ]
Then we’ll go back and explore it together next time, you and me.
[ There's something he forces at that meant to be a laugh, something to clear the air and probably would if it was anyone standing here but someone who knows him so well. Something he should change to knew, but that's also on the list of things Claude can't manage to reconcile even as they wait there for him to do so. No struggle he needs to involve her in when it's clear this is something he has to solve for himself.
It's almost offensive that the sun's still daring to share brightly and nothing about this day is as dim as it feels like it should be. The crowds pass by with all kinds of chatter, there's the calls of different shopkeepers looking to lure them in, and the breeze has the audacity to pick up then to carry away some of the day's warmth while he stands absently flexing his hands and willing himself to forget to the feel of her.
He could leave. There's nothing keeping him here as he's reminded himself several times in the space of a few seconds, but it's like something keeps him rooted to the spot. Until Hilda speaks and he blinks at the passersby he was watching without really seeing to look back at her, and then back at the building. ]
I suppose I probably should since I didn't actually finish what he told me to go in there and do. Wouldn't exactly be the best impression to leave there considering I'm here because of someone else in the first place.
[ He's stalling in ways that don't feel like something he'd do so Claude forces himself to take one step and then another like Hilda will fall into step with him like from other times, other places, and whether she does or not when it comes to where the shop and warehouse meet, he doesn't offer up a goodbye when it feels like this has been a long extended one enough already which won't bring them any closure at all. ]
It's almost offensive that the sun's still daring to share brightly and nothing about this day is as dim as it feels like it should be. The crowds pass by with all kinds of chatter, there's the calls of different shopkeepers looking to lure them in, and the breeze has the audacity to pick up then to carry away some of the day's warmth while he stands absently flexing his hands and willing himself to forget to the feel of her.
He could leave. There's nothing keeping him here as he's reminded himself several times in the space of a few seconds, but it's like something keeps him rooted to the spot. Until Hilda speaks and he blinks at the passersby he was watching without really seeing to look back at her, and then back at the building. ]
I suppose I probably should since I didn't actually finish what he told me to go in there and do. Wouldn't exactly be the best impression to leave there considering I'm here because of someone else in the first place.
[ He's stalling in ways that don't feel like something he'd do so Claude forces himself to take one step and then another like Hilda will fall into step with him like from other times, other places, and whether she does or not when it comes to where the shop and warehouse meet, he doesn't offer up a goodbye when it feels like this has been a long extended one enough already which won't bring them any closure at all. ]
[ The noise she makes clearly says she's doubtful of his reassurance that her snuggling skills are better than Claude's. But more than that it's directed at his promise that he'll follow through with it. Why would anyone who has feelings for someone else want to do something like that with her? Perhaps it's another kindness.
She's already cemented his evasiveness of addressing her declaration of feelings a response in and of itself. But she is the self-proclaimed princess of delusion and daydreams and her constant pull and push of insecurity continues. Her fingers cling to him like she's clinging onto this moment for as long as she's awake, like this will somehow slip away when she wakes. ]
Tell me what you did when you were there.
[ She doubts it had been as lonely as her time had been. At least she hopes that's the case. Hilda had spent time with people but that didn't dispel the gnawing hole in her chest left by those she has purposely distanced herself from. ]
She's already cemented his evasiveness of addressing her declaration of feelings a response in and of itself. But she is the self-proclaimed princess of delusion and daydreams and her constant pull and push of insecurity continues. Her fingers cling to him like she's clinging onto this moment for as long as she's awake, like this will somehow slip away when she wakes. ]
Tell me what you did when you were there.
[ She doubts it had been as lonely as her time had been. At least she hopes that's the case. Hilda had spent time with people but that didn't dispel the gnawing hole in her chest left by those she has purposely distanced herself from. ]
[ He’d missed having her at his side just as much. He gives her a squeeze and settles in to regale her with ridiculous tales from his time with the Fey.
If he exaggerated a bit when it came to the mount contests they’d dared him to, or the disastrous drinking contest with Shepard, well… he knew she’d find it amusing all the same. ]
Of course, one of the highlights of the visit was this stunning beauty that let me chase her through the maze the night of the ball…
If he exaggerated a bit when it came to the mount contests they’d dared him to, or the disastrous drinking contest with Shepard, well… he knew she’d find it amusing all the same. ]
Of course, one of the highlights of the visit was this stunning beauty that let me chase her through the maze the night of the ball…
[ Gods, she hates the sound of that hollow, forced laugh. It's all niceties at this point, isn't it? Claude's laugh will never again ring bright and sweet for anything she does again. That's reserved for others he's built and nurtured feelings for. For Sylvain. For Petra if she ever returns. They are deserving of it. They are worthy of affections she'll never have and her jealous, pining heart will simply have to come to terms with that some day. Her heart aches all the same and she has to force herself to swallow a mysterious lump in her throat. ]
No. It wouldn't.
[ Her quiet disapproval doesn't have bite to it, but it suggests that she better not hear about him leaving a mess for someone she's beginning to view as a mentor.
All of that masks her quiet hope that he won't leave, but that would be ridiculous because then they'd just be left standing here making awful small talk with no substance. Would that be so bad though if it means he's still close? As if he can read her mind he begins walking away, and of course her feet follow so dutifully like they have so often in the past. His stride is naturally longer than hers and she hurries to catch up, pushed along by the gentle breeze as if it hears her quiet desire to stay by his side.
In the past she used to whine about how fast he walked. And while the whining never really stopped, eventually, unbeknownst to her, she adapted to it, perfecting the pace at which he walked in her own stride. How many people had she done that for? The answer is clear as the sun that shone so rudely above them: very few, if any.
It doesn't feel right to say goodbye when they reach the junction between the shop and the warehouse. But as she turns to utter it to him, he's already continuing towards the warehouse staring straight ahead like he always had. Her mouth shuts. Pressure behind her eyes begins to build. This is right, she thinks. This is fitting. The answer to her question earlier becomes clear. You said goodbye to someone once held dear by not saying it at all. It's easier that way.
Hilda's gaze lingers on his back a beat longer than she should before she tears it away. Rolling her shoulders back she takes a centering breath before bursting into the workshop, a whine on her lips bemoaning to Cyprian about being stuck in the warehouse, not once mentioning anything of the heart ache she had suffered at the hands of a broken lock. ]
No. It wouldn't.
[ Her quiet disapproval doesn't have bite to it, but it suggests that she better not hear about him leaving a mess for someone she's beginning to view as a mentor.
All of that masks her quiet hope that he won't leave, but that would be ridiculous because then they'd just be left standing here making awful small talk with no substance. Would that be so bad though if it means he's still close? As if he can read her mind he begins walking away, and of course her feet follow so dutifully like they have so often in the past. His stride is naturally longer than hers and she hurries to catch up, pushed along by the gentle breeze as if it hears her quiet desire to stay by his side.
In the past she used to whine about how fast he walked. And while the whining never really stopped, eventually, unbeknownst to her, she adapted to it, perfecting the pace at which he walked in her own stride. How many people had she done that for? The answer is clear as the sun that shone so rudely above them: very few, if any.
It doesn't feel right to say goodbye when they reach the junction between the shop and the warehouse. But as she turns to utter it to him, he's already continuing towards the warehouse staring straight ahead like he always had. Her mouth shuts. Pressure behind her eyes begins to build. This is right, she thinks. This is fitting. The answer to her question earlier becomes clear. You said goodbye to someone once held dear by not saying it at all. It's easier that way.
Hilda's gaze lingers on his back a beat longer than she should before she tears it away. Rolling her shoulders back she takes a centering breath before bursting into the workshop, a whine on her lips bemoaning to Cyprian about being stuck in the warehouse, not once mentioning anything of the heart ache she had suffered at the hands of a broken lock. ]
[ He's right. She does find the embellishments amusing – adores them in fact. If a story didn't have embellishments what was the point? As she listens to his escapades, she smiles quietly to herself, glad to hear that he had fun.
Every so often she interjects, peppering him with questions asking for more ridiculous details, or providing murmured comments as colour commentary. It's a means of catching up. Of saying she's sorry without actually saying it (even though saying sorry would really just make more sense).
Wistfully she wishes that she could have been there to see him successfully handle the fey mounts. That she could have been a bystander watching him try and go shot for shot with Shepard and laugh at his attempt before dragging him back to his room when he inevitably wasn't able to stand on his own two feet. But that's all wishful thinking. Those moments had been reserved for Claude. Inserting herself even in thought still feels intrusive.
But then he mentions their moment together in the maze. She stills in his arms, fingers absently running over his knuckles. ]
You must have really liked her a lot to chase her through a maze.
[ It's not meant to be leading. Rather she doesn't think before she speaks. ]
That or you really needed to see if it was who you thought she was.
Every so often she interjects, peppering him with questions asking for more ridiculous details, or providing murmured comments as colour commentary. It's a means of catching up. Of saying she's sorry without actually saying it (even though saying sorry would really just make more sense).
Wistfully she wishes that she could have been there to see him successfully handle the fey mounts. That she could have been a bystander watching him try and go shot for shot with Shepard and laugh at his attempt before dragging him back to his room when he inevitably wasn't able to stand on his own two feet. But that's all wishful thinking. Those moments had been reserved for Claude. Inserting herself even in thought still feels intrusive.
But then he mentions their moment together in the maze. She stills in his arms, fingers absently running over his knuckles. ]
You must have really liked her a lot to chase her through a maze.
[ It's not meant to be leading. Rather she doesn't think before she speaks. ]
That or you really needed to see if it was who you thought she was.
I think a part of me knew who she was from the very start.
[ There’s a fond smile in his voice as he murmurs the words against her hair, still holding her close. He knows that’s a dangerous admission but as they lay there together, with her so soft and relaxed and warm in his arms, it’s hard for him to cling to all the reasons he should keep that to himself.
He brushes his lips against her hair again and turns his hand until he can tangle his fingers with her own, threading them together. ]
And she was worth every moment of the chase.
[ There’s a fond smile in his voice as he murmurs the words against her hair, still holding her close. He knows that’s a dangerous admission but as they lay there together, with her so soft and relaxed and warm in his arms, it’s hard for him to cling to all the reasons he should keep that to himself.
He brushes his lips against her hair again and turns his hand until he can tangle his fingers with her own, threading them together. ]
And she was worth every moment of the chase.
[ There's a laugh in her voice. ]
How? It was a masquerade.
[ Her hair had been devoid of colour, and her eyes had been gold and predatory instead of its usual pink. She hadn't even crossed paths with him before the maze. For him to know it was her, even without all her usual physical trappings, makes her heart thrum in a way she knows it shouldn't.
Whatever charged feelings she'd had when she initially found his fox mask appears to have dissipated. Or maybe it's a combination of the alcohol and the warm bath that had worn away the fear she had felt knowing that she crossed a line she said she wouldn't cross. ]
How? It was a masquerade.
[ Her hair had been devoid of colour, and her eyes had been gold and predatory instead of its usual pink. She hadn't even crossed paths with him before the maze. For him to know it was her, even without all her usual physical trappings, makes her heart thrum in a way she knows it shouldn't.
Whatever charged feelings she'd had when she initially found his fox mask appears to have dissipated. Or maybe it's a combination of the alcohol and the warm bath that had worn away the fear she had felt knowing that she crossed a line she said she wouldn't cross. ]
[ The feel of his fingers against her skin draws a soft exhale from her. Don't read into it, she tells herself, don't get more invested than you already are. That will only make this more difficult to say goodbye to.
She's been saying goodbye to a lot of things lately, hasn't she?
At first she starts to laugh but it's quickly swallowed by a hiccup. ]
What does that even mean? Paying attention to what?
She's been saying goodbye to a lot of things lately, hasn't she?
At first she starts to laugh but it's quickly swallowed by a hiccup. ]
What does that even mean? Paying attention to what?
[ It’s ironic, how often he’s been saying those same words to himself lately. It’s not something he’s ever had to work at reminding himself before. It had never even been an issue before. Not before her, not before Claude. No one had ever really tempted him to get invested. Or if they had, he’d regretted it fairly quickly.
But for now, he just lets his smile linger as he repeats the motion, gentle but teasing against sensitive skin. ]
To the stunning beauty who made me chase her through a maze, of course.
But for now, he just lets his smile linger as he repeats the motion, gentle but teasing against sensitive skin. ]
To the stunning beauty who made me chase her through a maze, of course.
[ Hilda had always attributed her flippancy towards people, matters of importance, hobbies, and feelings, as a way to avoid boredom. But perhaps her fear of expectations, of trying and failing, was the real drive behind her flippancy. The same fear she had about not being able to make a difference in the war also fueled her approach to relationships. Why start something at all if it would end in disappointment? Why should she have to say goodbye at all if she said it first? If whatever began never made it far enough to constitute a goodbye? She had gone too far with Claude. She's teetering on the edge of it now with Sylvain.
Those thoughts are clouded by the haze of alcohol and all she can focus on now is that what he's doing tickles. A girlish giggle manages its way past her lips as she wriggles in his hold. It's part protest, part knee-jerk reaction to the ticklish spot beneath her ribcage. ]
That's not what I meant! [ It's part laugh, part whine. ] You're avoiding the question again. What did you notice about her in the first place?
Those thoughts are clouded by the haze of alcohol and all she can focus on now is that what he's doing tickles. A girlish giggle manages its way past her lips as she wriggles in his hold. It's part protest, part knee-jerk reaction to the ticklish spot beneath her ribcage. ]
That's not what I meant! [ It's part laugh, part whine. ] You're avoiding the question again. What did you notice about her in the first place?
That I missed being able to see her smile.
[ The confession is soft but his hands drift away from her ticklish ribs to brush over the back of her hand once more instead. ]
That no matter what she changed, how different she looked, I was still just as drawn to her as ever. Still wanted to hear her laugh, scoop her up in my arms, hold her against me. I kept catching sight of her all night at that ball, even tried to chase her in there, but she kept getting away. It wasn’t till she stepped outside that I finally caught her. And then got to chase her for real.
[ The confession is soft but his hands drift away from her ticklish ribs to brush over the back of her hand once more instead. ]
That no matter what she changed, how different she looked, I was still just as drawn to her as ever. Still wanted to hear her laugh, scoop her up in my arms, hold her against me. I kept catching sight of her all night at that ball, even tried to chase her in there, but she kept getting away. It wasn’t till she stepped outside that I finally caught her. And then got to chase her for real.
— i'm not lazy, i'm just cautious (my heart ponding makes me nauseous) | early aug @ cryptsleeper
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theidlemaiden
2023-08-10 04:27 am (UTC)(link)
[ As the days leading up to their appointed training session loomed closer, Hilda had tried in vain to come up with whatever excuses she could to dodge it. Had she been the one to initiate this in the first place? Yes. Does that mean she'll still whine and dig her heels into the ground in protest? Absolutely.
The only saving grace to this entire ordeal is that she's spending time with Alucard. Well, that and there's dinner and dessert at the end of it. But all of those things combined are still not enough to dispel the pout from her lips as they arrive at the training grounds that day. It's clear that some part of her is resigned to her fate. Her hair is up in a rare ponytail that day in an attempt to keep most of it out of her face, and she's dressed in plainer clothing than she might otherwise don. Even her boots - which are still fashionable - err on the side of practical.
She unstraps her axe from her back with a sigh. ]
Are you sure we can't just skip to dinner and dessert? I'm already sweaty.
The only saving grace to this entire ordeal is that she's spending time with Alucard. Well, that and there's dinner and dessert at the end of it. But all of those things combined are still not enough to dispel the pout from her lips as they arrive at the training grounds that day. It's clear that some part of her is resigned to her fate. Her hair is up in a rare ponytail that day in an attempt to keep most of it out of her face, and she's dressed in plainer clothing than she might otherwise don. Even her boots - which are still fashionable - err on the side of practical.
She unstraps her axe from her back with a sigh. ]
Are you sure we can't just skip to dinner and dessert? I'm already sweaty.
Hilda, you asked me to do this for you.
[Alucard has placed his coat off to one side, but has otherwise dressed no differently. Simple white shirt. Black trousers. Sturdy boots. Hair very much still down, and now sword unsheathed.
It is a fair replica of the one from home, although this one rather pointedly does not float.]
And if we put it off now, it'll be put off perpetually.
[Alucard has placed his coat off to one side, but has otherwise dressed no differently. Simple white shirt. Black trousers. Sturdy boots. Hair very much still down, and now sword unsheathed.
It is a fair replica of the one from home, although this one rather pointedly does not float.]
And if we put it off now, it'll be put off perpetually.
[ Do you really have to point out the obvious, Alucard? And with the emphasis on the words? ]
It wouldn't be put off perpetually. [ One last attempt at wheedling because why not? Also, it isn't fair whatsoever that he doesn't have a bead of sweat on him. ] Just temporarily in favour of some delicious food instead.
[ The axe glints in the sun as she unwraps it from its covers and she can see her own reflection looking worriedly back at her. Finally she lets out a sigh. ]
How did you want to do this?
It wouldn't be put off perpetually. [ One last attempt at wheedling because why not? Also, it isn't fair whatsoever that he doesn't have a bead of sweat on him. ] Just temporarily in favour of some delicious food instead.
[ The axe glints in the sun as she unwraps it from its covers and she can see her own reflection looking worriedly back at her. Finally she lets out a sigh. ]
How did you want to do this?
[ Hilda hadn't known what answer to expect when she asked her question. Except that isn't the truth. Maybe she did. Maybe she had expected something along the lines of how she moved, something about her perfume, the way she chose to accessorize, or maybe some patch of pink had slipped through her glamour unbeknownst to her. That had always been the case in the past; she had always been distilled down to her looks and nothing more because what else did she have to offer? Instead it had been none of those things.
At the realization that he's describing seeing her in a way that she's always hoped she'd be seen, her cheeks flush. Her stupid little heart skips a beat and has the audacity to hover several inches off the ground in her chest. She's glad that her back is to him so that he can't see the way her eyes widen or how she's at a loss for words. He probably wasn't saying things just to be kind - but that didn't mean that it meant what she wanted it to mean, right? Hadn't he already turned her down?
She swallows and several beats later she asks - ]
And do you still feel that way? Even after everything that she said?
At the realization that he's describing seeing her in a way that she's always hoped she'd be seen, her cheeks flush. Her stupid little heart skips a beat and has the audacity to hover several inches off the ground in her chest. She's glad that her back is to him so that he can't see the way her eyes widen or how she's at a loss for words. He probably wasn't saying things just to be kind - but that didn't mean that it meant what she wanted it to mean, right? Hadn't he already turned her down?
She swallows and several beats later she asks - ]
And do you still feel that way? Even after everything that she said?
[ He almost makes a lighthearted comment about not giving up that easily but… no. That would be a lie. He’s a master of strategic retreat when things start turning too serious or too uncomfortable or maybe just too outright risky.
Even that night, he’d slipped away before she could catch on to who he was beneath his own mask. Hadn’t been willing to face the consequences of the anger or rejection he’d been expecting from her, or to ruin the rest of their nights. Better to leave it a hopefully-pleasant mystery to remember instead.
He could give her a pretty answer or he could divert her onto a different topic, probably. But instead he just gives her a simple truth, turning his head just enough that he can rest his cheek atop her head. ]
Yes. I don’t think that feeling is going anywhere.
Even that night, he’d slipped away before she could catch on to who he was beneath his own mask. Hadn’t been willing to face the consequences of the anger or rejection he’d been expecting from her, or to ruin the rest of their nights. Better to leave it a hopefully-pleasant mystery to remember instead.
He could give her a pretty answer or he could divert her onto a different topic, probably. But instead he just gives her a simple truth, turning his head just enough that he can rest his cheek atop her head. ]
Yes. I don’t think that feeling is going anywhere.
[ One of the thoughts plaguing her since she had discovered who Lief had really been had been why he had left so abruptly. They could have gone elsewhere. They didn't even have to continue. But instead she had been left hurrying back into her clothing with shaking limbs before the other maze goers they had heard discovered her.
If Sylvain had known - if he had suspected - it had been her, why not stay? As soon as she asks herself that question though she recalls her reaction upon discovering it had been him. The dread and guilt she had felt. The fear that now that he'd had her he wouldn't want her any other way. Of course he wouldn't have wanted to stay.
But all of those things don't necessarily cancel out someone's wants and desires. She knew that all too well. ]
Do you want her to feel the same way about you as you do about her?
If Sylvain had known - if he had suspected - it had been her, why not stay? As soon as she asks herself that question though she recalls her reaction upon discovering it had been him. The dread and guilt she had felt. The fear that now that he'd had her he wouldn't want her any other way. Of course he wouldn't have wanted to stay.
But all of those things don't necessarily cancel out someone's wants and desires. She knew that all too well. ]
Do you want her to feel the same way about you as you do about her?
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