[For all that the latest communion left a thousand thoughts buzzing around in his head like irritated wasps, Byleth's invitation is a welcome interruption for Claude. He'd hoped, before, that the teahouse would prove a good little hideaway for Byleth, and now he's pleased to hear that seems to be the case, if he wants to make another trip together.
When Claude arrives in the courtyard, he doesn't announce his arrival right away, just... leaning on the wall with one shoulder and crossing his arms, a fond smile on his face as he watches Byleth gaze into the water. He looks like he's in an almost meditative state, it's almost a shame to interrupt, but after a few moments more, he speaks up in a soft voice.]
Heya. Want a few more minutes out here before we go inside?
[Byleth returned from wherever his thoughts had taken him, looking up to see Claude watching him with a fond expression. Was it really that nice watching Byleth zone out in the middle of a courtyard? Well, whatever made Claude happy...]
If you'd like. It's peaceful here, and after that communion, I feel that peace is what we both need right now.
[He turned to face him more fully.]
I hope you're not exhausting yourself too much, Claude.
[His smile becomes markedly more feigned as he pushes off the wall and lets out a snort.]
Nah, I'm far from exhausted. If anything, I'm raring to go. [A little too much, with all those thoughts buzzing around in his head, but still.] So there's no need to worry about me. How are you holding up?
I'll answer that question honestly, if you promise to be honest in return.
[he looked away, half-shifting to stare up at the teahouse they stood outside of.]
I asked you to come here, because I was concerned about you. When I was overwhelmed and tired, you reached out with kindness and took me here. So, I wanted to do that. For you.
[...the words weren't coming out as smoothly as they sounded in his head. He hoped Claude understood his feelings regardless. He turned back to him.]
I don't want this teahouse to be where we pretend we're fine to one another. Do you... understand what I mean?
[Claude just blinks at him for a second, thrown off completely by that. He hadn't expected Byleth to... well, catch on so quickly, much less challenge him on it. Professor or not, he has just the same amount of insight that made him so perceptive of others' needs and how to nurture them, even if he perhaps hasn't realised that for himself.
He rubs the back of his neck and looks abashed.]
Yeah, I get it. It's not like I'm trying to deceive you for the fun of it. I just... With everything going on, it's important to keep up everyone's morale. You know?
[Meridian's already plagued by infighting, or calls for war. He can't allow himself to get dragged down with it.]
[Byleth understood. Claude was very kind, and preferred the least violent path to achieve his goals - at least, that was his assessment of observing him during the last two group Communions. Claude wanted to compromise, he wanted everyone to be friends, he wanted there to be a happy ending.
It was nice. Byleth liked it, even if his own pragmatism told him happy endings were rare.]
Everyone is stressed over the Manon Dilemma- [Yes, he's given it a name.] -and there's a chance it'll cause someone to act rashly at the worst time. I know you want everything to go smoothly, and so put forth a strong façade, but it shouldn't be at the detriment of your own health.
[Byleth paused briefly, unsure if he was navigating this conversation correctly or not. He didn't want to assume too much about Claude, since they didn't really know each other beyond friendly acquaintances - on Byleth's end, at least. Claude knew him far better, and as disconcerting as that was sometimes... it made things easier too, if Claude was able to understand what Byleth was trying to say, however clumsily.]
So... this is where you can be honest, and vent, if you'd like. Or we can rate cake. That's what I've been doing when coming here on my own. It's nice. So far everything is either a nine or a ten.
[Claude laughs, which is at least a little more genuine than before, and leads the way inside, continuing as he goes.]
Honestly, I appreciate it, but I really am tougher than I look. Trying to herd Leicester during wartime, where no one would agree on anything... Now that was a real challenge. [He takes a seat, over at the same spot they'd picked before.] I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on how things are going, if you have any insights, though.
[Byleth sat down across from Claude and picked up the menu, but didn't look at it quite yet, since he felt Claude's question deserved his undivided attention.]
...my thoughts...
[Excuse the pause. Byleth.exe is trying to process his feelings on the matter into something vaguely coherent.]
If we're to be honest, then... the situation regarding Manon makes me uneasy. It feels like a trap to me, that we're being set up as part of some convoluted scheme that'll bite us further down the road. Whether it is Zenith's, Meridian's, or a third party's, I cannot say.
[He set the menu down.]
That may be my own stress causing me to feel unduly paranoid, though. It's not based on any evidence, only gut feeling. [...] There's a lot about this situation I dislike. Additionally, I spoke to Yima during the Communion, and that conversation was... frustrating, for many reasons.
[Claude can't disagree with Byleth's assessment of the situation, but he's also not too worried about it... At least not yet. He's intrigued at the mention of Yima, though, propping his chin on his hand and leaning forward a little as he listens.]
Oh, I had a chat with her too. It was pretty illuminating, actually. [But not at all frustrating, if his nonchalance is anything to go by.] What'd you talk about?
Why she insists on cooperation when conflict is inevitable.
[Byleth picked up the menu again, idly scanning it.]
It seemed disingenuous to me, as the race for the Oracles will inevitably set Zenith and Meridian on opposite sides. The Manon Dilemma, as well, does not reflect her public desire for peace: Zenith and Meridian likely frequently assassinate each other's members. They're our opponents, not our allies. I don't understand the logic.
[........well, he said he'd be honest, so...]
And then she... said something that made me lose my temper, so I cut the conversation short. In all, it was a disatisfying conversation.
Must've been pretty hard-hitting, to get a rise out of someone as unflappable as you.
[So he says, but he knows Byleth can react to things in the moment just as much as anyone. It sounds like it was personal, so he decides not to press the matter.]
Let me think about how to explain this... [He sits back again, scratching his beard.] Meridian and Zenith are like Fódlan used to be before the war. The peace was tenuous at best, neighbours could interfere with one another, unexplained incidents could wipe out noble lines or make important people disappear overnight. But on the surface, me, Dimitri and Edelgard had to make nice together at school, because the future of Fódlan hinged on that peace.
Of course, if I'd known Edelgard was the Flame Emperor all along, I might've looked at things differently. But even before I knew her real intentions, we were always going to be rivals with a long history of conflicts, big or small, between our nations. Does that make sense?
[He hopes so; it's not exactly straightforward information for a sheltered mercenary, but comparing it to home might help.]
The same could be said for the Church of Seiros. They claimed to have all kind of noble ideas of peace and stability for Fódlan, but they did all kinds of shady things behind the scenes, to the detriment of everyone. For better or for worse, wielding power tends to involve offering a hand out to peace, all while hiding the knife behind your back. That's just how it is.
Truthfully, he never paid any attention to the politics of Fódlan even after the war had broken out. Jeralt was the one who had to sense where the wind was blowing, to sniff out where the best jobs would crop up next because Sir So-and-So hated Count What'shisface and so sent catpaws (mercenaries) to duke it out in the middle of the woods to decide who was right - but discreetly, because publicly they were the best of friends, the strongest of allies, they would never have a disagreement!
It was, as Jeralt would sigh:]
Oh. [Byleth made an enlightened noise.] It's "noble bullshit".
[Claude raises an eyebrow at that blunt assessment, then lets out a laugh and nods.]
Yeah. That sort of thing isn't confined just to Fódlan, I guess. Then you have nations like Almyra, where the common belief was always might making right... I'm sure something like that is a lot easier for a mercenary to understand. But the Church's influence in Fódlan, preaching peaceful coexistence amongst believers, meant everything had to be done a lot more discreetly.
[Not that Almyra's way of doing things was any better, but at least it wasn't as complicated, even with all the court intrigue.]
Zenith and Meridian don't have a shared religion or anything, but they do have to depend on one another to survive, to some extent. So their hands are tied in some similar ways that kept the balance of power in Fódlan in check.
I see... but, what I don't understand is that the cooperation is only temporary. With us both pursuing the Oracles for our own reasons, it'll force us both into more open conflict, which everyone acknowledges. It feels... it's...
[Byleth paused, clearly struggling to put his feelings into coherent words. He let out a short breath - frustration.]
As a mercenary, I've done many unscrupulous things to survive. I understand that it's an unavoidable part of living. We all must take lives to prolong our own, and honour is worthless to a corpse. Still, there're some principles I try to stick to, if only so I can live my life with as few regrets as I can. One of those is never betraying an ally, it's a line I refuse to cross. Yet, this... attempting to reach an alliance of sorts with Zenith, all while expecting to fight them eventually... it skirts close to that, doesn't it?
"Alliance" is something of a... loaded word. Take it from the former leader of Leicester. Yes, all the noble houses banded together to survive, but they were still vying for their own self-interests at the same time. Count Gloucester, for instance... He sent his son to watch me like a hawk, because Gloucester had one eye square on the leadership of the Alliance, all while he had a foot in the door of the Empire. Of course, he was worried I was the one who would betray the Alliance, so in his mind, it was the right course of action over blind faith.
Ideals like being noble in deed and loyal to one's word are all very well and good for Faerghus storybooks, but they usually don't translate to the real world. And if they do...
[He grimaces, his expression distant as he recalls a memory better forgotten. Well, no need to bring that up here.]
I digress. I think your view of things is admirable, Byleth, but loyalty doesn't really have any place in an arena where you can never be sure of your ally's true intentions.
[Byleth actually started to frown, his lack of comprehension evident. He understood in a way, he did. Mercenary bands occasionally worked together to achieve a singular purpose - but the selfishness of such an action was always stated plainly between parties. They weren't 'alliances', they were 'favours'. Taking a contract for a client wasn't an 'alliance', that was just 'business'. Jeralt made sure Byleth understood that.
"How do I explain... a true ally is like a friend," Jeralt had said long ago. So, Byleth had used that as a handrail. An ally is a friend, and you do not betray friends. It was straightforward and simple, and he was beginning to realise maybe it was too simple. In the face of Claude's explanation, and the realisation that 'alliances' were tainted by that 'noble bullshit', it made Byleth feel more than a little stupid.]
Me, friends with those old farts at the roundtable...? [When Claude laughs this time, it's actually genuine, like Byleth had said something hilarious. He wipes at the corner of his eye a little and shakes his head.] Oh, no, no. I got along well enough with some of them. Count Ordelia out of the other great lords, for instance. Judith, Holst... but my friends amongst the lords for many years were few and far between.
[Count Gloucester was the most extreme example among them, but they all had friction.]
Remember, these are all people with competing local interests. Gloucester had the Empire hounding his doorstep. House Goneril had Almyra looming on theirs. I was some young upstart with unknown origins or intentions. You can pretend to be friends in those circumstances, but would it really be genuine? Friendship is built on trust. Alliances are built on trust... but also convenience.
[Byleth's response was stiff, if only because he felt so embarrassed at misunderstanding something that was apparently extremely obvious to everyone else. He didn't understand, though. Jeralt had told him...
...
...had Byleth taken his words too literally? Or had Jeralt lied to him? Oversimplified, because he thought Byleth wouldn't understand? He felt stung at the thought, but he didn't know where the hurt was directed towards.]
This is why I lived in the woods. People are too difficult. [He pointedly looked down at the menu.] Are you ready to order?
Ah, yeah. [The amusement dies down in Claude's expression-- it had been funny, but he hadn't intended to be unkind, or to make Byleth feel foolish. He scans over the menu.]
[Byleth made a noise of acknowledgement, and he flagged a passing staff member down to deliver their orders. While Claude went for the tea, Byleth ordered a rooibos tea and... at least three different cakes, ranging from mild (lemon and poppyseed) to pure decadence (triple chocolate cake with cream).]
We can share the food. [he said, as the staff member walked off to fulfil their order.] Also, I forgot to say: thank you for clarifying. I'll not lie and say I fully accept the explanation, but I know you only wish for me to avoid being tricked in some way.
Sure. [Cake isn't really on his mind right now, but he's happy to let Byleth indulge himself.]
And yeah, I do. Things here are only going to get more complicated from here on out, and you don't want Zenith running circles around you. Nor should you waste your breath getting mad at people who aren't going to listen to you anyway.
[He could say that to a lot of Meridian, but it's Byleth in particular he wants to understand the situation. He has a sharp mind -- it's just an inexperienced one that needs pointing in the right direction.]
I didn't intend to let Yima provoke me... but I understand. I'll be careful.
[...he abruptly huffed out an amused noise.]
This was meant to be an outing where I would support you for once, Claude, but again it's you looking out for me. [He tilted his head slightly.] Are you certain I was your teacher, and not the other way round?
Ahaha. I did wonder why they hired you to begin with when you had to be taught a lot yourself. Honestly, by the end of the war, we were less like teacher and student, and more like... [A lot of things, really, but he won't go too deep into it again when it can still be a sticky subject for this Byleth. So he says simply:]
Fellow knowledge seekers, I'd say. Equals. Learning is a lifelong effort, after all, and Fódlan had plenty of mysteries to uncover.
Claude, when we met at the tavern, us and Dimitri, to discuss our respective timelines, you mentioned that you discovered many secrets about Fódlan, the Church and... me. Am I safe to assume you know about...
[He didn't say it, in case Claude didn't, and he was referring to something harmless like, he didn't know, Byleth's great love for pressing his face into fluffy cat bellies or something. Instead, Byleth patted his chest - where the Crest Stone sat.]
[Claude's eyes travel down, his expression becoming more serious as he nods. But he also doesn't know how much Byleth knows -- Jeralt's diary said a lot, but not the full story -- so he decides to clarify.]
Yeah, I know -- well, just about everything. Just how much do you know about yourself, exactly? [He doesn't want to jump him with any surprise information, so that might be helpful to establish first.]
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leicesters) wrote2022-12-06 08:26 pm
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When Claude arrives in the courtyard, he doesn't announce his arrival right away, just... leaning on the wall with one shoulder and crossing his arms, a fond smile on his face as he watches Byleth gaze into the water. He looks like he's in an almost meditative state, it's almost a shame to interrupt, but after a few moments more, he speaks up in a soft voice.]
Heya. Want a few more minutes out here before we go inside?
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If you'd like. It's peaceful here, and after that communion, I feel that peace is what we both need right now.
[He turned to face him more fully.]
I hope you're not exhausting yourself too much, Claude.
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Nah, I'm far from exhausted. If anything, I'm raring to go. [A little too much, with all those thoughts buzzing around in his head, but still.] So there's no need to worry about me. How are you holding up?
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I'll answer that question honestly, if you promise to be honest in return.
[he looked away, half-shifting to stare up at the teahouse they stood outside of.]
I asked you to come here, because I was concerned about you. When I was overwhelmed and tired, you reached out with kindness and took me here. So, I wanted to do that. For you.
[...the words weren't coming out as smoothly as they sounded in his head. He hoped Claude understood his feelings regardless. He turned back to him.]
I don't want this teahouse to be where we pretend we're fine to one another. Do you... understand what I mean?
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He rubs the back of his neck and looks abashed.]
Yeah, I get it. It's not like I'm trying to deceive you for the fun of it. I just... With everything going on, it's important to keep up everyone's morale. You know?
[Meridian's already plagued by infighting, or calls for war. He can't allow himself to get dragged down with it.]
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[Byleth understood. Claude was very kind, and preferred the least violent path to achieve his goals - at least, that was his assessment of observing him during the last two group Communions. Claude wanted to compromise, he wanted everyone to be friends, he wanted there to be a happy ending.
It was nice. Byleth liked it, even if his own pragmatism told him happy endings were rare.]
Everyone is stressed over the Manon Dilemma- [Yes, he's given it a name.] -and there's a chance it'll cause someone to act rashly at the worst time. I know you want everything to go smoothly, and so put forth a strong façade, but it shouldn't be at the detriment of your own health.
[Byleth paused briefly, unsure if he was navigating this conversation correctly or not. He didn't want to assume too much about Claude, since they didn't really know each other beyond friendly acquaintances - on Byleth's end, at least. Claude knew him far better, and as disconcerting as that was sometimes... it made things easier too, if Claude was able to understand what Byleth was trying to say, however clumsily.]
So... this is where you can be honest, and vent, if you'd like. Or we can rate cake. That's what I've been doing when coming here on my own. It's nice. So far everything is either a nine or a ten.
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[Claude laughs, which is at least a little more genuine than before, and leads the way inside, continuing as he goes.]
Honestly, I appreciate it, but I really am tougher than I look. Trying to herd Leicester during wartime, where no one would agree on anything... Now that was a real challenge. [He takes a seat, over at the same spot they'd picked before.] I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on how things are going, if you have any insights, though.
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...my thoughts...
[Excuse the pause. Byleth.exe is trying to process his feelings on the matter into something vaguely coherent.]
If we're to be honest, then... the situation regarding Manon makes me uneasy. It feels like a trap to me, that we're being set up as part of some convoluted scheme that'll bite us further down the road. Whether it is Zenith's, Meridian's, or a third party's, I cannot say.
[He set the menu down.]
That may be my own stress causing me to feel unduly paranoid, though. It's not based on any evidence, only gut feeling. [...] There's a lot about this situation I dislike. Additionally, I spoke to Yima during the Communion, and that conversation was... frustrating, for many reasons.
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Oh, I had a chat with her too. It was pretty illuminating, actually. [But not at all frustrating, if his nonchalance is anything to go by.] What'd you talk about?
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[Byleth picked up the menu again, idly scanning it.]
It seemed disingenuous to me, as the race for the Oracles will inevitably set Zenith and Meridian on opposite sides. The Manon Dilemma, as well, does not reflect her public desire for peace: Zenith and Meridian likely frequently assassinate each other's members. They're our opponents, not our allies. I don't understand the logic.
[........well, he said he'd be honest, so...]
And then she... said something that made me lose my temper, so I cut the conversation short. In all, it was a disatisfying conversation.
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[So he says, but he knows Byleth can react to things in the moment just as much as anyone. It sounds like it was personal, so he decides not to press the matter.]
Let me think about how to explain this... [He sits back again, scratching his beard.] Meridian and Zenith are like Fódlan used to be before the war. The peace was tenuous at best, neighbours could interfere with one another, unexplained incidents could wipe out noble lines or make important people disappear overnight. But on the surface, me, Dimitri and Edelgard had to make nice together at school, because the future of Fódlan hinged on that peace.
Of course, if I'd known Edelgard was the Flame Emperor all along, I might've looked at things differently. But even before I knew her real intentions, we were always going to be rivals with a long history of conflicts, big or small, between our nations. Does that make sense?
[He hopes so; it's not exactly straightforward information for a sheltered mercenary, but comparing it to home might help.]
The same could be said for the Church of Seiros. They claimed to have all kind of noble ideas of peace and stability for Fódlan, but they did all kinds of shady things behind the scenes, to the detriment of everyone. For better or for worse, wielding power tends to involve offering a hand out to peace, all while hiding the knife behind your back. That's just how it is.
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Truthfully, he never paid any attention to the politics of Fódlan even after the war had broken out. Jeralt was the one who had to sense where the wind was blowing, to sniff out where the best jobs would crop up next because Sir So-and-So hated Count What'shisface and so sent catpaws (mercenaries) to duke it out in the middle of the woods to decide who was right - but discreetly, because publicly they were the best of friends, the strongest of allies, they would never have a disagreement!
It was, as Jeralt would sigh:]
Oh. [Byleth made an enlightened noise.] It's "noble bullshit".
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Yeah. That sort of thing isn't confined just to Fódlan, I guess. Then you have nations like Almyra, where the common belief was always might making right... I'm sure something like that is a lot easier for a mercenary to understand. But the Church's influence in Fódlan, preaching peaceful coexistence amongst believers, meant everything had to be done a lot more discreetly.
[Not that Almyra's way of doing things was any better, but at least it wasn't as complicated, even with all the court intrigue.]
Zenith and Meridian don't have a shared religion or anything, but they do have to depend on one another to survive, to some extent. So their hands are tied in some similar ways that kept the balance of power in Fódlan in check.
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[Byleth paused, clearly struggling to put his feelings into coherent words. He let out a short breath - frustration.]
As a mercenary, I've done many unscrupulous things to survive. I understand that it's an unavoidable part of living. We all must take lives to prolong our own, and honour is worthless to a corpse. Still, there're some principles I try to stick to, if only so I can live my life with as few regrets as I can. One of those is never betraying an ally, it's a line I refuse to cross. Yet, this... attempting to reach an alliance of sorts with Zenith, all while expecting to fight them eventually... it skirts close to that, doesn't it?
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Ideals like being noble in deed and loyal to one's word are all very well and good for Faerghus storybooks, but they usually don't translate to the real world. And if they do...
[He grimaces, his expression distant as he recalls a memory better forgotten. Well, no need to bring that up here.]
I digress. I think your view of things is admirable, Byleth, but loyalty doesn't really have any place in an arena where you can never be sure of your ally's true intentions.
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[Byleth actually started to frown, his lack of comprehension evident. He understood in a way, he did. Mercenary bands occasionally worked together to achieve a singular purpose - but the selfishness of such an action was always stated plainly between parties. They weren't 'alliances', they were 'favours'. Taking a contract for a client wasn't an 'alliance', that was just 'business'. Jeralt made sure Byleth understood that.
"How do I explain... a true ally is like a friend," Jeralt had said long ago. So, Byleth had used that as a handrail. An ally is a friend, and you do not betray friends. It was straightforward and simple, and he was beginning to realise maybe it was too simple. In the face of Claude's explanation, and the realisation that 'alliances' were tainted by that 'noble bullshit', it made Byleth feel more than a little stupid.]
I thought allies were friends...?
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[Count Gloucester was the most extreme example among them, but they all had friction.]
Remember, these are all people with competing local interests. Gloucester had the Empire hounding his doorstep. House Goneril had Almyra looming on theirs. I was some young upstart with unknown origins or intentions. You can pretend to be friends in those circumstances, but would it really be genuine? Friendship is built on trust. Alliances are built on trust... but also convenience.
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[Byleth's response was stiff, if only because he felt so embarrassed at misunderstanding something that was apparently extremely obvious to everyone else. He didn't understand, though. Jeralt had told him...
...
...had Byleth taken his words too literally? Or had Jeralt lied to him? Oversimplified, because he thought Byleth wouldn't understand? He felt stung at the thought, but he didn't know where the hurt was directed towards.]
This is why I lived in the woods. People are too difficult. [He pointedly looked down at the menu.] Are you ready to order?
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I think I'll go for the chamomile tea this time.
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We can share the food. [he said, as the staff member walked off to fulfil their order.] Also, I forgot to say: thank you for clarifying. I'll not lie and say I fully accept the explanation, but I know you only wish for me to avoid being tricked in some way.
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And yeah, I do. Things here are only going to get more complicated from here on out, and you don't want Zenith running circles around you. Nor should you waste your breath getting mad at people who aren't going to listen to you anyway.
[He could say that to a lot of Meridian, but it's Byleth in particular he wants to understand the situation. He has a sharp mind -- it's just an inexperienced one that needs pointing in the right direction.]
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[...he abruptly huffed out an amused noise.]
This was meant to be an outing where I would support you for once, Claude, but again it's you looking out for me. [He tilted his head slightly.] Are you certain I was your teacher, and not the other way round?
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Fellow knowledge seekers, I'd say. Equals. Learning is a lifelong effort, after all, and Fódlan had plenty of mysteries to uncover.
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[Which reminded him. Byleth sobered slightly.]
Claude, when we met at the tavern, us and Dimitri, to discuss our respective timelines, you mentioned that you discovered many secrets about Fódlan, the Church and... me. Am I safe to assume you know about...
[He didn't say it, in case Claude didn't, and he was referring to something harmless like, he didn't know, Byleth's great love for pressing his face into fluffy cat bellies or something. Instead, Byleth patted his chest - where the Crest Stone sat.]
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Yeah, I know -- well, just about everything. Just how much do you know about yourself, exactly? [He doesn't want to jump him with any surprise information, so that might be helpful to establish first.]
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