I know. [He reassures her, his expression becoming more gentle as he sets down his glass.] Like I said, the Officer's Academy was a unique place. Food was a thing that could bring us all together, regardless of our differences. Being a man or a woman or anything else had nothing to do with it.
[And back when he was a teenager, that had a huge impact on him. Helping him feel like, if given the right conditions to thrive, his dream just might be possible. He just had to do it in a better way than Rhea's Garreg Mach.]
Even Dimitri cooked despite being a prince, you know? Though his cooking was, uh...
[She admits it freely, even as she awkwardly uses her spoon to shovel some of the vegetables onto her plate. A place where being a king or a peasant didn't matter, where being a woman or a man didn't matter... In her world, such things mattered so much that they defined the course of your entire life.
They'd certainly defined everything about hers. What is that feeling she has, when she hears people talk of such things? Something like jealousy, even though she thinks a better person would be glad that others benefited from such equalities.
Better to think about this Dmitri. The blonde prince hadn't made the most favorable impression on her, (and the entire debacle over the communion in the roots had been... something), but.]
Awful. His retainer, on the other hand, was an amazing chef.
[He smiles sadly when he thinks of Dedue, and how they'd parted ways in Enbarr. He wonders what he's doing now, in his world, and takes a bite of fruit and steak while he mulls it over.]
...It feels so long ago now, but we students all had some good times together, before the war. I hope people have a chance to keep making memories here before conflict tears it apart, too.
[They've been given a second chance after the Oracle, at least. He doesn't want to squander that.]
[Hayame had hoped not to think of more recent events after the Oracle, but she cannot help it when he talks about... making memories, of all things. Before conflict tears it apart, he says- did he mean, then, friendships between Meridian and Zenith? She tries to ignore it in favor of eating, and honestly, it's not too hard at first, because the bread is soft and warm and the meat is filling, the vegetables not all the same she is used to, and she even considers asking if he had "retainers" himself, as a different distraction, but-]
The more "memories" they make the more it will simply muddle the waters when the war escalates.
[Because what do wars do but escalate? Unless they uncover some massive new truth about this world... the Oracles were still the only path towards achieving their faction's goals that had any hope behind it. Even if he meant within Meridian...
Well. She didn't need pleasant memories to do her job.]
I wasn't just thinking about the other Shardbearers, but about you. So long as this peace lasts, you can experience things like this. Do things that make you happy.
[He cuts himself a slice of bread, not daring to look up to see the judgement or disapproval on her face. She might think the ambassador project is a waste of time, but he's trying to make it work for her as much as anyone else. All his experiences, the academy included, means he appreciates just how precious peace is.]
...Anyway, I said we wouldn't talk shop right now. [He finally musters the courage to glance up at her.] Let's worry about the future later.
He isn't wrong to think that she might wear a look of disapproval to hear that. Her lips thin, and the corners turn downwards, her grip on the spoon thing too tight. It is instinctive for her by now- shunning things that did not correlate directly to duty or battle, that might risk being enjoyable only for her to realize too soon that they were not for her or could not last.
In the wake of her silence (and chewing) he seems amiable to moving on instead, but Hayame is slightly stuck.]
... What sort of things do you expect?
[Things that... made her happy. Obviously not serving as an ambassador, which he had taken the initiative to tell everyone on her behalf. - She still needed to chastise him for that. But she isn't sure if she asks him that question because she is ready to reject the proposals or because she is simply curious... and her tone doesn't likely make it easy to tell, either.]
[Claude chews on his food for a moment, but he's suddenly distracted from the taste. Worried, again, that anything he says could anger her and damage things between them.
But they can't build anything between them based on fear, right? He had already told her he wouldn't withhold anything from her any more, and that goes for important thoughts and feelings, too. So he responds, cautious.]
I want you to figure out what makes you happy. It's not something I can dictate to you, but it's something I can help you figure out, a little at a time. It could be little things... like seeing what this came from.
[He picks a pomegranate seed from his food, holds it up like she had, then pops it in his mouth and eats it, a lopsided smile on his face as he swallows.]
Or... big things. [Like she had accepted Claude's feelings, for all his flaws, for all their differences and things they don't agree on.]
[She doesn’t stop eating, though her movements are slower and more methodical, covering for what she isn’t sure is anger or bitterness or curiosity. Maybe, since she feels a twinge of something like disappointment when he says she should figure it out (mostly), it was more of the latter.
Small things. Big things.]
… I am not a happy person.
[In general. Would that change just because she found a few more things to like? (To love?) It wasn’t like she was unaware of her disposition, or how other people saw her. (How other people had made it clear they saw her, time and again, most recently in regards to ambassadors.) She hasn’t even… has she smiled more than she could count on the fingers of one hand since her arrival here?
She doesn’t think so. Slowly, her eye slips over to him, catching that lopsided smile.]
I would not want you to stake too much on my discoveries.
[A wounded expression passes across his face, and he picks up his drink to buy himself time (or liquid courage) to figure out what to say. Instead, though, he doesn't drink, just finds himself swirling the deep red liquid as if it can somehow help circulate his thoughts.
Perhaps he should clear something up first.]
Don't misunderstand... I love you exactly as you are. [He says, eventually, looking up once more. It pulls at his heartstrings to think that she might assume otherwise. That she might think, again, that she's defective in some way.]
So, I'm not trying to make you into someone you're not. I just... want to give you things you didn't have.
[Seeing that expression on his face didn’t make her happy. It made her lips twist downward into even more opposite a smile, made her fingers tighten on the spoon. Eventually, it even makes her turn her gaze away again, because…
Because her skin always feels so hot when he says love. So easy, so clear, so… something she is trying to accept but still struggles to wholly believe. “Love”.]
…
[He wants to give her things, when most of what she’s ever known has just been taking. How to accept them, how to ask for them… she doesn’t really know how. (Matsukaze had wanted her to be happy. Set, Liem, Akua, they wanted her to be happy as “friends”. But this?). What could she say now, when a part of her kept trying to sabotage this still and the rest of her just wanted to believe?]
The food makes me happy enough.
[That he cooked it for her, not just… that it was there…]
[He seems taken aback, at such a simple admission, and he takes a gulp of wine and sets down the glass.]
Well-- good! You had me worried, for a second there.
[He refills his glass, then tops hers up, too, suddenly embarassed. He's normally so rational and calculating, that it feels crazy to hang on to every little word and mood of hers like it's a matter of life and death.
Or-- maybe it is. He had said before how worried he was that this place would chew her up and spit her out, leave her with so many enemies that she'd wind up dissipated and her shard ground to dust. If he can just show her that it doesn't have to be like that, there are things she can find that make living worthwhile beyond fighting...
Then maybe that little admission really is a big deal.]
[Even after saying it, Hayame isn’t entirely sure if she said it because it was true or just because she wanted him to have something. A reward for his hard work, or for putting up with her, when she thinks she knows for a fact that if he had confessed his feelings and said the sweet words he’d said to any other woman that surely…
Surely they would have treated him better. Be treating him better.
But she doesn’t know, and now… isn’t the place or the time to try and figure out which it was. Instead, she obligingly pushes her glass closer for the refill, unconcerned that any amount he would serve her would make her feel anything. Not unless he served up half the barrel anyway, her metabolism was too quick for it otherwise. But in the silence, before she returns to chewing (or rather, slowly decimating a lot of the fare on the table),]
You can talk about something. Your home, or what not.
[If she talks, she will likely spoil it, whether accidental or not. If they talk of this place, she won’t be able to stop herself from bringing up the ambassadors judgements. So… something else.]
Oh... sure. [He was getting sidetracked enough that he has to cast his mind back to their previous topic, eating a small mouthful of rice (and yes, eating at a slower pace than Hayame) as he considers. Something easy to talk about, something that won't bring up friction between them, but which she still might find interesting...]
I was talking about the academy and what life was like there, right? Byleth was there too, but a different Byleth to the mercenary we both know here. The Byleth from my world actually became my teacher.
[Time to leisurely eat is never something Hayame had, so… her pace is quite quick and efficient by default. Thankfully, the sheer volume she’s packing away means it doesn’t seem that she’s in danger of leaving him behind.
And she can listen while she chews, no problem, so-]
What do you mean, a different one?
[She abandons the tricky spoon for another kebab.]
Byleth, Dimitri and I are from three different Fódlans, where events diverged pretty dramatically. As Dimitri would have it, Byleth picked the Blue Lion house as its teacher. The way I remember it, of course he couldn't say no to teaching his adorable little Golden Deer. --That was my house, back in the day.
[Which probably explains all his oblique animal metaphors he likes to make sometimes... but anyway.]
And for the Byleth we know here? He never became a teacher, but eventually joined Dimitri's army as a sellsword. I was basically a stranger to him.
[Which was tough, at least at first, but he's long since come to terms with it.]
In her time here Hayame has heard of people who came from the same world but different “points in time” from one another, or from worlds that sounded similar in culture or geography but differed elsewhere, but. This was the first time she’d heard of three branching… “timelines”. A concept she wrestled to get her head around on a good day, mind, but.]
I assume you all figured that out quite early, at least?
[Chewing thoughtfully on the bread, Claude nods and swallows.]
Yeah. Though, I think it freaked him out at first that I knew everything about him, and he didn't know anything about me. Then, as we got to know each other, he started to worry that I was trying to use him as a substitute for the Byleth I'd lost. He might still think that...
[He's not sure. It had been addressed under the tree by Sothis, but did he listen then? Did Sothis relay what had been said, if not?]
It's a little complicated. It's sort of like meeting a twin brother who was separated a few years back. They're very similar people, but there are just so many differences in experiences by now, it'd be impossible for me to mistake them as the same person.
[To be… freaked out. She certainly would be if someone she’d never met claimed to know that much about her, and was perhaps able to actually back some of it up. Confusing, too, but… the twin analogy helps.
She may have taken the liberty to repeat that Byleth had praised and defended Claude to her, but the doubts about their friendship… well that was more personal. That was for them alone.]
He is still of your world, I suppose. Even if he is not the man you knew.
[That must be comforting, she thinks. Not being the lone survivor.]
He is a straightforward man.
[Said in a way that was admittedly hard to tell if it was a compliment or not, but.]
He is, isn't he? [Claude grins, and in his case, the reaction is unmistakably fond.] He says everything like it is.
[Much like a certain other person he knows. It's refreshing, for someone steeped in a lifetime of being slippery and hard to decipher.]
Like Teach, though, he finds it difficult to show emotion at times. Teach got a lot more expressive over time, but... This Byleth is still getting used to interacting with people beyond merc jobs.
[Maybe that's why Claude never found Hayame daunting to deal with. She might worry that she never smiled, but Byleth simply didn't emote much at all, even to show negative emotion like anger. He understands well that it doesn't mean they feel any less than anyone else, just for a lack of showing it.]
[Which she feels is what made that man more straightforward than she was, for she would speak her mind... but she rarely felt the need to explain herself, or what about her past might lead her to think or say what she did. In her own world, people had known things about her just by looking at her race, her sex, the style of her hair, the fact that she had arms. Here... she was allowed certain privacies. And she guarded them fiercely.]
Perhaps, then, he simply needs that same amount of time.
[He had said to her that he missed having someone to take orders from... and she missed the same. There were orders that could be taken here... but could those giving them be trusted? That was a different issue.
Her lips turn down at the thought, annoyed that she cannot stop herself from thinking in order to just... eat.
... The fruit with the meat was a nice combination, though. She helps herself to more of that.]
Yeah, I think so. He needs to figure out his own path, and where he fits into all this.
[And while Claude could tell him what to do as much as Jeralt used to, he wouldn't feel comfortable about it. He piles a few more vegetables onto his plate and leaves it at that, taking a pause to eat. Thinking it over, he does note that Byleth seems to be one of the rare few Hayame has at least a neutral, not negative, opinion of.]
Anyway, that's how Byleth fits into things with me. If you have questions, I can answer whatever you like...? [He could talk at her about anything and everything all day, but maybe she's curious about certain things, too.]
[What Claude says is true enough. There is only so much another person can do to lead, when the root cause of something was in another. Not if you actually valued the other person, anyway, and allowing them the freedom to become their own being. ... Not that she actually knew much about that part.
Hayame chews instead of asking questions. Her tail swishes anxiously across the floor, the motion interrupted by the cushions. The longer this goes on... The more obvious it must be how unsuitable she is as a partner for such things as this. Normal things. She had dined with Amos Burton before, but Amos Burton was a very silent man. She'd had tea with Liem Talbott, but that had been brief, and what to speak about had been decided. So what is she supposed to do? She could just demand he come up with a topic, or ask a vague question to set him on a path, but.
It feels like a cop out. Cowardly, as she's ever proving in this realm. The silence stretches on, broken only by the soft clink of silverware and her chewing until suddenly she manages,]
- I have a half-brother.
[... A very smooth segueway.
- What? He'd said he had them. It's... something in common. Even if she knows the circumstances must be vastly different between the way a prince has numerous siblings and a breeding stable jinba does.]
[Claude lets the quiet stretch on as he polishes off his steak, washing it down with more wine. He can hold his alcohol, but it and the food are both making him feel pleasantly fuzzy, so he doesn't feel the need to rush Hayame. Even in silence, he enjoys her company.]
Huh. [He had no idea what she'd ask, or say, but it wasn't that.] I didn't expect we'd have that in common... What's he like?
[Proud and cold, like Hayame? Competitive like his own brothers? He hoped, at least, that he wasn't cruel to her as Shahid was to him. Not having a throne to compete over had to help, but jinba were surely under all kinds of other pressures that would strain a sibling relationship.]
[As much as she sometimes wished for it, there was no comfort for her to be found in drink- no pleasant haziness or soft blur. She was a little jealous of humans for that, sometimes.]
I have many half-siblings, actually. But only Yubari and I look passable as brother and sister.
[They both were spitting images of their dam, and so each other. They were closest in age, just one foaling season apart. Birthed when the broodmare forced to bear them was younger, before she started losing them more frequently before finally succumbing to one that wouldn’t come out. But she doesn’t know anything about that Armless woman beyond what she looked like from a distance, and how she sounded when sent off to stud. Yubari, though-]
… He is the only one I trusted. And the only one who believed in me- that a mare could become a warlord’s horse.
[Something to have in common… her gaze grows distant, her fingers rub absently along the stem of her wine glass. What was he like… ? Even that, she would have known better if she herself were less cold, and more kind… if she had let him call her “sister” in public…]
He was not as good a shot as I am, but he was a fine archer. A better craftsman- he made my arrows. He was loyal… more understanding. … Kinder.
[(If she went back… if she survived by some miracle… Perhaps she could apologize-)]
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leicesters) wrote2022-12-06 08:26 pm
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[Balancing the spoon takes more effort than she would have thought, but at least she isn't spilling. Wobbling, maybe, but-]
But I was trying to compliment you.
[Just... in case it wasn't clear. She feels her words are often misconstrued by her fellow shard-bearers, so. Just in case.]
I know few men in my world capable of cooking decent fare. Most leave it to their women.
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[And back when he was a teenager, that had a huge impact on him. Helping him feel like, if given the right conditions to thrive, his dream just might be possible. He just had to do it in a better way than Rhea's Garreg Mach.]
Even Dimitri cooked despite being a prince, you know? Though his cooking was, uh...
[He tried???]
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[She admits it freely, even as she awkwardly uses her spoon to shovel some of the vegetables onto her plate. A place where being a king or a peasant didn't matter, where being a woman or a man didn't matter... In her world, such things mattered so much that they defined the course of your entire life.
They'd certainly defined everything about hers. What is that feeling she has, when she hears people talk of such things? Something like jealousy, even though she thinks a better person would be glad that others benefited from such equalities.
Better to think about this Dmitri. The blonde prince hadn't made the most favorable impression on her, (and the entire debacle over the communion in the roots had been... something), but.]
- not good?
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[He smiles sadly when he thinks of Dedue, and how they'd parted ways in Enbarr. He wonders what he's doing now, in his world, and takes a bite of fruit and steak while he mulls it over.]
...It feels so long ago now, but we students all had some good times together, before the war. I hope people have a chance to keep making memories here before conflict tears it apart, too.
[They've been given a second chance after the Oracle, at least. He doesn't want to squander that.]
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The more "memories" they make the more it will simply muddle the waters when the war escalates.
[Because what do wars do but escalate? Unless they uncover some massive new truth about this world... the Oracles were still the only path towards achieving their faction's goals that had any hope behind it. Even if he meant within Meridian...
Well. She didn't need pleasant memories to do her job.]
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[He cuts himself a slice of bread, not daring to look up to see the judgement or disapproval on her face. She might think the ambassador project is a waste of time, but he's trying to make it work for her as much as anyone else. All his experiences, the academy included, means he appreciates just how precious peace is.]
...Anyway, I said we wouldn't talk shop right now. [He finally musters the courage to glance up at her.] Let's worry about the future later.
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He isn't wrong to think that she might wear a look of disapproval to hear that. Her lips thin, and the corners turn downwards, her grip on the spoon thing too tight. It is instinctive for her by now- shunning things that did not correlate directly to duty or battle, that might risk being enjoyable only for her to realize too soon that they were not for her or could not last.
In the wake of her silence (and chewing) he seems amiable to moving on instead, but Hayame is slightly stuck.]
... What sort of things do you expect?
[Things that... made her happy. Obviously not serving as an ambassador, which he had taken the initiative to tell everyone on her behalf. - She still needed to chastise him for that. But she isn't sure if she asks him that question because she is ready to reject the proposals or because she is simply curious... and her tone doesn't likely make it easy to tell, either.]
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But they can't build anything between them based on fear, right? He had already told her he wouldn't withhold anything from her any more, and that goes for important thoughts and feelings, too. So he responds, cautious.]
I want you to figure out what makes you happy. It's not something I can dictate to you, but it's something I can help you figure out, a little at a time. It could be little things... like seeing what this came from.
[He picks a pomegranate seed from his food, holds it up like she had, then pops it in his mouth and eats it, a lopsided smile on his face as he swallows.]
Or... big things. [Like she had accepted Claude's feelings, for all his flaws, for all their differences and things they don't agree on.]
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Small things. Big things.]
… I am not a happy person.
[In general. Would that change just because she found a few more things to like? (To love?) It wasn’t like she was unaware of her disposition, or how other people saw her. (How other people had made it clear they saw her, time and again, most recently in regards to ambassadors.) She hasn’t even… has she smiled more than she could count on the fingers of one hand since her arrival here?
She doesn’t think so. Slowly, her eye slips over to him, catching that lopsided smile.]
I would not want you to stake too much on my discoveries.
[It would be cruel to lead him on, surely.]
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Perhaps he should clear something up first.]
Don't misunderstand... I love you exactly as you are. [He says, eventually, looking up once more. It pulls at his heartstrings to think that she might assume otherwise. That she might think, again, that she's defective in some way.]
So, I'm not trying to make you into someone you're not. I just... want to give you things you didn't have.
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Because her skin always feels so hot when he says love. So easy, so clear, so… something she is trying to accept but still struggles to wholly believe. “Love”.]
…
[He wants to give her things, when most of what she’s ever known has just been taking. How to accept them, how to ask for them… she doesn’t really know how. (Matsukaze had wanted her to be happy. Set, Liem, Akua, they wanted her to be happy as “friends”. But this?). What could she say now, when a part of her kept trying to sabotage this still and the rest of her just wanted to believe?]
The food makes me happy enough.
[That he cooked it for her, not just… that it was there…]
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Well-- good! You had me worried, for a second there.
[He refills his glass, then tops hers up, too, suddenly embarassed. He's normally so rational and calculating, that it feels crazy to hang on to every little word and mood of hers like it's a matter of life and death.
Or-- maybe it is. He had said before how worried he was that this place would chew her up and spit her out, leave her with so many enemies that she'd wind up dissipated and her shard ground to dust. If he can just show her that it doesn't have to be like that, there are things she can find that make living worthwhile beyond fighting...
Then maybe that little admission really is a big deal.]
no subject
Surely they would have treated him better. Be treating him better.
But she doesn’t know, and now… isn’t the place or the time to try and figure out which it was. Instead, she obligingly pushes her glass closer for the refill, unconcerned that any amount he would serve her would make her feel anything. Not unless he served up half the barrel anyway, her metabolism was too quick for it otherwise. But in the silence, before she returns to chewing (or rather, slowly decimating a lot of the fare on the table),]
You can talk about something. Your home, or what not.
[If she talks, she will likely spoil it, whether accidental or not. If they talk of this place, she won’t be able to stop herself from bringing up the ambassadors judgements. So… something else.]
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I was talking about the academy and what life was like there, right? Byleth was there too, but a different Byleth to the mercenary we both know here. The Byleth from my world actually became my teacher.
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And she can listen while she chews, no problem, so-]
What do you mean, a different one?
[She abandons the tricky spoon for another kebab.]
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[Which probably explains all his oblique animal metaphors he likes to make sometimes... but anyway.]
And for the Byleth we know here? He never became a teacher, but eventually joined Dimitri's army as a sellsword. I was basically a stranger to him.
[Which was tough, at least at first, but he's long since come to terms with it.]
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In her time here Hayame has heard of people who came from the same world but different “points in time” from one another, or from worlds that sounded similar in culture or geography but differed elsewhere, but. This was the first time she’d heard of three branching… “timelines”. A concept she wrestled to get her head around on a good day, mind, but.]
I assume you all figured that out quite early, at least?
[Another kebab, gone.]
You two do not seem strangers now.
[… And though it was decidedly not her business…]
Byleth speaks highly of you, at least.
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Yeah. Though, I think it freaked him out at first that I knew everything about him, and he didn't know anything about me. Then, as we got to know each other, he started to worry that I was trying to use him as a substitute for the Byleth I'd lost. He might still think that...
[He's not sure. It had been addressed under the tree by Sothis, but did he listen then? Did Sothis relay what had been said, if not?]
It's a little complicated. It's sort of like meeting a twin brother who was separated a few years back. They're very similar people, but there are just so many differences in experiences by now, it'd be impossible for me to mistake them as the same person.
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[To be… freaked out. She certainly would be if someone she’d never met claimed to know that much about her, and was perhaps able to actually back some of it up. Confusing, too, but… the twin analogy helps.
She may have taken the liberty to repeat that Byleth had praised and defended Claude to her, but the doubts about their friendship… well that was more personal. That was for them alone.]
He is still of your world, I suppose. Even if he is not the man you knew.
[That must be comforting, she thinks. Not being the lone survivor.]
He is a straightforward man.
[Said in a way that was admittedly hard to tell if it was a compliment or not, but.]
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[Much like a certain other person he knows. It's refreshing, for someone steeped in a lifetime of being slippery and hard to decipher.]
Like Teach, though, he finds it difficult to show emotion at times. Teach got a lot more expressive over time, but... This Byleth is still getting used to interacting with people beyond merc jobs.
[Maybe that's why Claude never found Hayame daunting to deal with. She might worry that she never smiled, but Byleth simply didn't emote much at all, even to show negative emotion like anger. He understands well that it doesn't mean they feel any less than anyone else, just for a lack of showing it.]
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[Which she feels is what made that man more straightforward than she was, for she would speak her mind... but she rarely felt the need to explain herself, or what about her past might lead her to think or say what she did. In her own world, people had known things about her just by looking at her race, her sex, the style of her hair, the fact that she had arms. Here... she was allowed certain privacies. And she guarded them fiercely.]
Perhaps, then, he simply needs that same amount of time.
[He had said to her that he missed having someone to take orders from... and she missed the same. There were orders that could be taken here... but could those giving them be trusted? That was a different issue.
Her lips turn down at the thought, annoyed that she cannot stop herself from thinking in order to just... eat.
... The fruit with the meat was a nice combination, though. She helps herself to more of that.]
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[And while Claude could tell him what to do as much as Jeralt used to, he wouldn't feel comfortable about it. He piles a few more vegetables onto his plate and leaves it at that, taking a pause to eat. Thinking it over, he does note that Byleth seems to be one of the rare few Hayame has at least a neutral, not negative, opinion of.]
Anyway, that's how Byleth fits into things with me. If you have questions, I can answer whatever you like...? [He could talk at her about anything and everything all day, but maybe she's curious about certain things, too.]
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Hayame chews instead of asking questions. Her tail swishes anxiously across the floor, the motion interrupted by the cushions. The longer this goes on... The more obvious it must be how unsuitable she is as a partner for such things as this. Normal things. She had dined with Amos Burton before, but Amos Burton was a very silent man. She'd had tea with Liem Talbott, but that had been brief, and what to speak about had been decided. So what is she supposed to do? She could just demand he come up with a topic, or ask a vague question to set him on a path, but.
It feels like a cop out. Cowardly, as she's ever proving in this realm. The silence stretches on, broken only by the soft clink of silverware and her chewing until suddenly she manages,]
- I have a half-brother.
[... A very smooth segueway.
- What? He'd said he had them. It's... something in common. Even if she knows the circumstances must be vastly different between the way a prince has numerous siblings and a breeding stable jinba does.]
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Huh. [He had no idea what she'd ask, or say, but it wasn't that.] I didn't expect we'd have that in common... What's he like?
[Proud and cold, like Hayame? Competitive like his own brothers? He hoped, at least, that he wasn't cruel to her as Shahid was to him. Not having a throne to compete over had to help, but jinba were surely under all kinds of other pressures that would strain a sibling relationship.]
no subject
I have many half-siblings, actually. But only Yubari and I look passable as brother and sister.
[They both were spitting images of their dam, and so each other. They were closest in age, just one foaling season apart. Birthed when the broodmare forced to bear them was younger, before she started losing them more frequently before finally succumbing to one that wouldn’t come out. But she doesn’t know anything about that Armless woman beyond what she looked like from a distance, and how she sounded when sent off to stud. Yubari, though-]
… He is the only one I trusted. And the only one who believed in me- that a mare could become a warlord’s horse.
[Something to have in common… her gaze grows distant, her fingers rub absently along the stem of her wine glass. What was he like… ? Even that, she would have known better if she herself were less cold, and more kind… if she had let him call her “sister” in public…]
He was not as good a shot as I am, but he was a fine archer. A better craftsman- he made my arrows. He was loyal… more understanding. … Kinder.
[(If she went back… if she survived by some miracle… Perhaps she could apologize-)]
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