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Interesting. I'd be willing to assist as much as I can, but I fear I'm going to be busy over the next few weeks... this unit I was speaking of is likely going to Alenroux in the near future. Although... don't tell anyone.
I understand. Truth be told, Claude would suit this task better than either of us. He's like a pine martin.
[Wily, sneaky, looks like the type to enjoy climbing trees.]
[Wily, sneaky, looks like the type to enjoy climbing trees.]
I'm sure he'd be willing to put his mind to the task if you ask him.
So you're one of those types.
[ makes his life easier but also: please value your time more. ]
Then be off with you. If I have anything I wish delivered and see you before Lark, I'll tell you whom it goes to and allow you the simple "satisfaction of a task complete". But you should consider some sort of delivery fee, Eisner, or you'll be taken advantage of by those less kind.
[ makes his life easier but also: please value your time more. ]
Then be off with you. If I have anything I wish delivered and see you before Lark, I'll tell you whom it goes to and allow you the simple "satisfaction of a task complete". But you should consider some sort of delivery fee, Eisner, or you'll be taken advantage of by those less kind.
[Byleth blinked, looking a little caught off-guard... before he smiled - a tiny one, but no less earnest. Kaname was concerned about him, like a friend would be! He would even go out of his way to give Byleth deliveries to keep him happy...]
I understand. I'll be careful, and... thank you. You're a very kind person.
[And without even letting Kaname even react to that statement, he happily trots off to fulfil his delivery, a spring in his step!]
I understand. I'll be careful, and... thank you. You're a very kind person.
[And without even letting Kaname even react to that statement, he happily trots off to fulfil his delivery, a spring in his step!]
[For all that the night had turned into drinking, party games and general (heh) merriment, Claude isn't terribly drunk, having spent a good deal of the game either feigning taking a drink or just sipping. He's still on high alert given the circumstances, so while he could unwind and have fun a little, he's not about to slacken any hold on his faculties should anything unexpected happen as it did with Aetós and Manon.
That said, he is getting tired, though, so he'll eventually follow Byleth back to the tent where he agreed to spend the evening.]
I know you're worried, but I don't think we need to sleep in shifts, given the circumstances. We'll trust those keeping watch to do their jobs, okay?
That said, he is getting tired, though, so he'll eventually follow Byleth back to the tent where he agreed to spend the evening.]
I know you're worried, but I don't think we need to sleep in shifts, given the circumstances. We'll trust those keeping watch to do their jobs, okay?
I trust them about as far as I can throw a demonic beast.
[There's a reason why his room back in Springstar was practically fortress (and he slept in short catnaps). Without Jeralt here, or his trusted men, Byleth felt uncomfortably exposed during the night.]
I don't believe they'll do anything actively malicious, but it's difficult for me to trust them entirely when I'm at my most vulnerable. Unless I'm in a fortified area, or have someone I trust nearby, I always have a lingering... concern that something may happen.
[In retrospect, maybe this was the remnants of Sothis's paranoia and traumatic death leaking into his subconscious. She proved that being murdered in your sleep, even when surrounded by those meant to 'keep watch', was a realistic possibility.]
[There's a reason why his room back in Springstar was practically fortress (and he slept in short catnaps). Without Jeralt here, or his trusted men, Byleth felt uncomfortably exposed during the night.]
I don't believe they'll do anything actively malicious, but it's difficult for me to trust them entirely when I'm at my most vulnerable. Unless I'm in a fortified area, or have someone I trust nearby, I always have a lingering... concern that something may happen.
[In retrospect, maybe this was the remnants of Sothis's paranoia and traumatic death leaking into his subconscious. She proved that being murdered in your sleep, even when surrounded by those meant to 'keep watch', was a realistic possibility.]
Byleth...
[Claude understands the feeling, of course. He'd almost been killed too many times by assassins in the night, and while it hadn't happened in Springstar yet, it was only a matter of time before he began to make enemies and someone wanted to go after him, he was sure.
Still, as they enter the tent, he takes off his blade, he makes sure to place it by the bed in its sheath so it's within instant grabbing distance, should something happen.]
I'll be here for you, so you don't have to worry about a thing. Just try to rest easy tonight.
[Claude understands the feeling, of course. He'd almost been killed too many times by assassins in the night, and while it hadn't happened in Springstar yet, it was only a matter of time before he began to make enemies and someone wanted to go after him, he was sure.
Still, as they enter the tent, he takes off his blade, he makes sure to place it by the bed in its sheath so it's within instant grabbing distance, should something happen.]
I'll be here for you, so you don't have to worry about a thing. Just try to rest easy tonight.
[Byleth does the same as Claude: not only resting his sword beside the bed, but he slipped the knife that usually hung at his side under the pillow too (still within its sheathe).]
I know. I trust you.
[There was more he wanted to say, of course, of how grateful he was, how slightly embarrassed he felt, how he wanted to repay Claude for his continuing kindness... but trying to put it all into coherent words was beyond him. He stifled a sigh at his own ineptitude, and sat down on the edge of his bed to begin the tedious task of unbuckling his greaves and vambraces.]
...I should warn you, in addition to my lack of heartbeat my breathing rate slows dramatically in my sleep, in case that alarms you. A few times I've been mistaken as dead while sleeping.
[As Jeralt had a few scares when Byleth had been very, very young before his father realised it was just more Weird Byleth Things. As always, the surefire way to check if Byleth was alive was to take his pulse, which always remained consistent.]
I know. I trust you.
[There was more he wanted to say, of course, of how grateful he was, how slightly embarrassed he felt, how he wanted to repay Claude for his continuing kindness... but trying to put it all into coherent words was beyond him. He stifled a sigh at his own ineptitude, and sat down on the edge of his bed to begin the tedious task of unbuckling his greaves and vambraces.]
...I should warn you, in addition to my lack of heartbeat my breathing rate slows dramatically in my sleep, in case that alarms you. A few times I've been mistaken as dead while sleeping.
[As Jeralt had a few scares when Byleth had been very, very young before his father realised it was just more Weird Byleth Things. As always, the surefire way to check if Byleth was alive was to take his pulse, which always remained consistent.]
Yeah, I, uh, knew that already.
[Something he read in Jeralt's diary too, not that he's prepared to tell him that; hopefully he just chalks it up to how long Claude has known the other him. He peels off his cape, folding it neatly, then sits down to remove his gloves and boots.]
It's fine, honestly. Oh, and-- I'm an early riser, but don't let that alarm you either. I just like to get up with the sun.
[Something he read in Jeralt's diary too, not that he's prepared to tell him that; hopefully he just chalks it up to how long Claude has known the other him. He peels off his cape, folding it neatly, then sits down to remove his gloves and boots.]
It's fine, honestly. Oh, and-- I'm an early riser, but don't let that alarm you either. I just like to get up with the sun.
Understood. I'm much the same.
[The greaves and vambraces were removed, along with his boots, gloves and cloak. All were neatly set down beside his bed, ready to be put on in the morning, and with an air of practised experience, began to unlatch the armoured corset around his waist and carefully removed that as well.
It had been a while since he had been so 'dressed down' in front of someone who wasn't Jeralt. It was an odd feeling, and the space between his shoulder blades itched from the exposure, but he shrugged it off.]
...a question. Do you sleep clothed or naked?
[The greaves and vambraces were removed, along with his boots, gloves and cloak. All were neatly set down beside his bed, ready to be put on in the morning, and with an air of practised experience, began to unlatch the armoured corset around his waist and carefully removed that as well.
It had been a while since he had been so 'dressed down' in front of someone who wasn't Jeralt. It was an odd feeling, and the space between his shoulder blades itched from the exposure, but he shrugged it off.]
...a question. Do you sleep clothed or naked?
[Claude's stripped down to his breeches and a loose white tunic, and is in the middle of unfastening his earring, when he glances at Byleth.]
Hm? Clothed, at least at this time of year. [It's way too cold for him to do otherwise, especially out in a tent like this.] Knock yourself out with whatever your preference is, though.
Hm? Clothed, at least at this time of year. [It's way too cold for him to do otherwise, especially out in a tent like this.] Knock yourself out with whatever your preference is, though.
Very well.
[Byleth had a high tolerance for temperatures - any temperature was comfortable unless things began to edge into the extremes - so he usually slept in his tunics. It meant he could leap into action quickly if need be, and if they were in very dangerous locales, he even slept with his boots on (granted with the shoelaces untied to allow for blood flow).
Here, though... if Claude was with him, he could afford to unwind. He didn't have to be dressed, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. He could relax... a little. A fraction. A smidge.
He decided to compromise. He removed his dark grey tunic and folded it up, but left his breeches on. For someone who had spent the majority of their life battling against everything ranging from wild beasts to wild mercenaries, Byleth had surprisingly few scars - not to say he didn't have them, but they were faint and silvery, with the exception of one: an ugly, bright pink scar that ran along his back, starting from his penultimate bottom right rib and slanting sharply downwards in a diagonal slash across his spine, to settle just shy above the left side of his tailbone.
A memento of Arval's attempted assassination, of course.
It was still a little stiff at times, but nothing a few stretches in the morning didn't alleviate, and Byleth was unbothered by its existence. He set the tunic down on top of his folded up cloak, and paused to lift his arms high above his head in a stretch, his spine clicking loudly.]
[Byleth had a high tolerance for temperatures - any temperature was comfortable unless things began to edge into the extremes - so he usually slept in his tunics. It meant he could leap into action quickly if need be, and if they were in very dangerous locales, he even slept with his boots on (granted with the shoelaces untied to allow for blood flow).
Here, though... if Claude was with him, he could afford to unwind. He didn't have to be dressed, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. He could relax... a little. A fraction. A smidge.
He decided to compromise. He removed his dark grey tunic and folded it up, but left his breeches on. For someone who had spent the majority of their life battling against everything ranging from wild beasts to wild mercenaries, Byleth had surprisingly few scars - not to say he didn't have them, but they were faint and silvery, with the exception of one: an ugly, bright pink scar that ran along his back, starting from his penultimate bottom right rib and slanting sharply downwards in a diagonal slash across his spine, to settle just shy above the left side of his tailbone.
A memento of Arval's attempted assassination, of course.
It was still a little stiff at times, but nothing a few stretches in the morning didn't alleviate, and Byleth was unbothered by its existence. He set the tunic down on top of his folded up cloak, and paused to lift his arms high above his head in a stretch, his spine clicking loudly.]
[Claude hadn't meant to watch Byleth strip, exactly, but the movement catches out of the corner of his eye as he finishes removing his earring and carefully sets it aside. He looks up, noticing a scar that definitely was not present on the Byleth that Claude knew.
Instinctively, a hand reaches up as if he wants to touch it, and then he's reminded this isn't his Teach and he quickly drops it again.]
Byleth, where did you get that injury? [Not here, he assumes, but before.]
Instinctively, a hand reaches up as if he wants to touch it, and then he's reminded this isn't his Teach and he quickly drops it again.]
Byleth, where did you get that injury? [Not here, he assumes, but before.]
...injury?
[Had Byleth gained a wound he'd neglected to notice? Since Claude was gazing at his lower back, Byleth pressed his hand against it, feeling nothing but the raised and somewhat tender bump of Arval's scar. Was this he was asking about?]
Do you mean this?
[Had Byleth gained a wound he'd neglected to notice? Since Claude was gazing at his lower back, Byleth pressed his hand against it, feeling nothing but the raised and somewhat tender bump of Arval's scar. Was this he was asking about?]
Do you mean this?
Yeah. Does it still hurt?
[If they were back home, he'd ask Marianne or Flayn to take a look... but they have no such luck here.]
[If they were back home, he'd ask Marianne or Flayn to take a look... but they have no such luck here.]
The pain's minimal. And so long as I'm mindful to stretch in the mornings, the stiffness is also negligible.
[Pointedly, Byleth seemed to be delaying in answering Claude's original question, because he was uncertain on how to even word it. He could just brush it off as something gained in combat, but Claude would know Byleth wouldn't be so sloppy as to let an enemy so close to his unguarded flank, especially as he also knew of Byleth's ability to manipulate time. Yet, trying to explain how the wound was gained from an ally stabbing him in the back (almost literally) may accidentally smear Shez's reputation, who had already apologised profusely for the event despite it not even being his fault.
Byleth was also a very poor liar, and Claude didn't deserve to be fed lies.]
As to how I obtained this injury... one of our allies had been possessed by an entity linked to those dark mages, and they attacked me when my guard was lowered.
[Pointedly, Byleth seemed to be delaying in answering Claude's original question, because he was uncertain on how to even word it. He could just brush it off as something gained in combat, but Claude would know Byleth wouldn't be so sloppy as to let an enemy so close to his unguarded flank, especially as he also knew of Byleth's ability to manipulate time. Yet, trying to explain how the wound was gained from an ally stabbing him in the back (almost literally) may accidentally smear Shez's reputation, who had already apologised profusely for the event despite it not even being his fault.
Byleth was also a very poor liar, and Claude didn't deserve to be fed lies.]
As to how I obtained this injury... one of our allies had been possessed by an entity linked to those dark mages, and they attacked me when my guard was lowered.
I see... It's always them, isn't it? In the Fódlan I left behind, we pretty much destroyed them for good, except maybe a few pockets of resistance here or there. But, that's not much comfort to you, I know.
[It's frustrating, that even if they go back to their worlds, he won't be able to help with that. Suddenly struck by an idea, he gestures for Byleth to come closer.] Can you come sit with me? I want to try something.
[It's frustrating, that even if they go back to their worlds, he won't be able to help with that. Suddenly struck by an idea, he gestures for Byleth to come closer.] Can you come sit with me? I want to try something.
[No, in Byleth's Fódlan the threat still very much existed. While they had killed Thales, they had no idea what other leaders remained or where they had even come from or what their overarching goal was... but, those were troubles to ponder another day, when they can be actioned on.
For now, Byleth nodded and got up to round the bed and seat himself beside Claude.]
For now, Byleth nodded and got up to round the bed and seat himself beside Claude.]
Just hold still for a sec, but tell me if it hurts.
[That's all the warning Byleth gets before Claude sits back to get a better angle, then presses his hands to Byleth's back. He uses the pads of his fingers to start to massage the scar tissue in slow movements, with light pressure.]
How's this?
[That's all the warning Byleth gets before Claude sits back to get a better angle, then presses his hands to Byleth's back. He uses the pads of his fingers to start to massage the scar tissue in slow movements, with light pressure.]
How's this?
[Byleth turned his head slightly when Claude leaned back, watching him in his periphery in the same way a wary horse would eyeball something approaching its flank. Though the touch was expected, he still twitched slightly when Claude's (thankfully warm) fingers pressed against his back and began to gently massage the tender scar tissue, easing any knotted tension that had instinctively bunched up there.
He wasn't sure what to make of it, initially. When people touched him, it was always very brief or very business-like, either to nudge him aside or to treat whatever injuries he may've accrued during battle. This gentle, lingering touch on such a vulnerable spot had him... unsure. Not in a bad way exactly but- just unsure.]
...it feels a little strange, but it doesn't hurt.
[It actually didn't. If anything it felt nice. Byleth hadn't realised how stiff his lower back muscles had actually been, braced around the injury, until Claude started prodding at it. Slowly, the lingering tension in Byleth's frame melted away, and he turned his head so he couldn't see Claude at all: a sign of complete trust.]
He wasn't sure what to make of it, initially. When people touched him, it was always very brief or very business-like, either to nudge him aside or to treat whatever injuries he may've accrued during battle. This gentle, lingering touch on such a vulnerable spot had him... unsure. Not in a bad way exactly but- just unsure.]
...it feels a little strange, but it doesn't hurt.
[It actually didn't. If anything it felt nice. Byleth hadn't realised how stiff his lower back muscles had actually been, braced around the injury, until Claude started prodding at it. Slowly, the lingering tension in Byleth's frame melted away, and he turned his head so he couldn't see Claude at all: a sign of complete trust.]
[Claude glances up to assess Byleth's reaction and whether he has permission to continue, and when he says it doesn't hurt, offers a small, relieved smile, adding a little more pressure and beginning to make a circular motion with his fingers.]
Good. I'm no expert, but I overheard at the infirmary once that this sort of thing can help scar tissue heal better.
[And it does feel like there's a lot of bunched-up tension there, from the way Byleth seems to relax into it, so even without the old injury, this woukd be beneficial. He's grateful, honoured even, to possess such trust.]
You've been through a lot... and no doubt you'll go through a lot more in the times ahead. So knowing when to give yourself a chance to relax is a good thing.
[He's partly chatting to fill the silence, but also partly praising him for stepping up earlier to help people have fun. It's nice to see him want to enjoy himself.]
Good. I'm no expert, but I overheard at the infirmary once that this sort of thing can help scar tissue heal better.
[And it does feel like there's a lot of bunched-up tension there, from the way Byleth seems to relax into it, so even without the old injury, this woukd be beneficial. He's grateful, honoured even, to possess such trust.]
You've been through a lot... and no doubt you'll go through a lot more in the times ahead. So knowing when to give yourself a chance to relax is a good thing.
[He's partly chatting to fill the silence, but also partly praising him for stepping up earlier to help people have fun. It's nice to see him want to enjoy himself.]
...it's something I'm still trying to learn.
[Byleth was used to existing beneath a constant level of pressure - it was the norm when you were a mercenary, even as infamous as he and Jeralt had been. The pressure to succeed, the pressure to keep winning, the pressure to remain employed so you could supply your men, maintain your weapons, feed your mounts, the pressure to fight and win and win and win or, on some days, just survive. True, Jeralt visited taverns often, and they skipped the tab and had a few nights where the company got wasted and rowdy... but no one had ever truly relaxed. You couldn't. Mercenaries weren't afforded the luxury.
It was different here, though. Though the pressure remained, it was far more thinly spread yet precisely crushing in different ways. Byleth was given a stipend to feed himself, he didn't have to worry about the elements, and neither did he have to worry about the camp being overrun by wild beasts, bandits or rival mercenaries. He just had to be on guard for when the next Oracle came, or if a new threat emerged from the fog of war. He could now, in the vast amounts of free time given to him, relax.
Problem was, he was bad at it. Inexperienced. It made him feel unproductive or agitated - sometimes surly, thought he was only beginning to realise this. That's how he'd been when he had first arrived here: snappish, uncooperative, and judgemental. When they'd lost the Oracle, and Byleth had been quick to dismiss the others' lamenting - viewing their griping as unproductive. Claude had tried to tell him it served a purpose, an emotional one, but Byleth hadn't really taken it to heart... until much later, when he'd processed that he had been much the same. He'd been hurting and angry, but utterly incapable of recognising it in himself. He felt embarrassed about himself, looking back.]
But, I'm beginning to understand how vital morale is to maintaining a fighting spirit within our faction. I didn't understand before, I was quick to judge and dismiss, but... after some self-reflection, I realised that I was suffering from a lack of morale, and it made me... aimless and dispirited. A dangerous state to be in for a mercenary.
[Byleth was used to existing beneath a constant level of pressure - it was the norm when you were a mercenary, even as infamous as he and Jeralt had been. The pressure to succeed, the pressure to keep winning, the pressure to remain employed so you could supply your men, maintain your weapons, feed your mounts, the pressure to fight and win and win and win or, on some days, just survive. True, Jeralt visited taverns often, and they skipped the tab and had a few nights where the company got wasted and rowdy... but no one had ever truly relaxed. You couldn't. Mercenaries weren't afforded the luxury.
It was different here, though. Though the pressure remained, it was far more thinly spread yet precisely crushing in different ways. Byleth was given a stipend to feed himself, he didn't have to worry about the elements, and neither did he have to worry about the camp being overrun by wild beasts, bandits or rival mercenaries. He just had to be on guard for when the next Oracle came, or if a new threat emerged from the fog of war. He could now, in the vast amounts of free time given to him, relax.
Problem was, he was bad at it. Inexperienced. It made him feel unproductive or agitated - sometimes surly, thought he was only beginning to realise this. That's how he'd been when he had first arrived here: snappish, uncooperative, and judgemental. When they'd lost the Oracle, and Byleth had been quick to dismiss the others' lamenting - viewing their griping as unproductive. Claude had tried to tell him it served a purpose, an emotional one, but Byleth hadn't really taken it to heart... until much later, when he'd processed that he had been much the same. He'd been hurting and angry, but utterly incapable of recognising it in himself. He felt embarrassed about himself, looking back.]
But, I'm beginning to understand how vital morale is to maintaining a fighting spirit within our faction. I didn't understand before, I was quick to judge and dismiss, but... after some self-reflection, I realised that I was suffering from a lack of morale, and it made me... aimless and dispirited. A dangerous state to be in for a mercenary.
Yeah. You're not just a mercenary, but a person with thoughts and feelings just like any of the rest of us. Even the god among our number isn't above such things.
[Set perhaps even moreso than any human, with how wild and unpredictable the god of war's mood swings can be. Claude pauses in his ministrations to move to Byleth's shoulders next, alternating between squeezing and pressing the muscles there with some force; perhaps he can take some literal weight off them by helping to relax.]
But at least you know now that you have something to work on, instead of running into a figurative wall at a critical time. And now you know you have people to help you, too, even if Jeralt isn't here for you to lean on.
[Set perhaps even moreso than any human, with how wild and unpredictable the god of war's mood swings can be. Claude pauses in his ministrations to move to Byleth's shoulders next, alternating between squeezing and pressing the muscles there with some force; perhaps he can take some literal weight off them by helping to relax.]
But at least you know now that you have something to work on, instead of running into a figurative wall at a critical time. And now you know you have people to help you, too, even if Jeralt isn't here for you to lean on.
[Byleth was more than aware of the mercurial and emotional nature of gods; what Byleth lacked in expression Sothis made up in spades, able to run the gamut of amused to haughty to irritable in the span of a minute. It was enough to give Byleth whiplash, sometimes.]
Yes. I still find myself missing Jeralt, though. He always understood my moods without needing an expression to work from, and I never had to fear miscommunication, but... it's not so bad, leaning on others, even if it takes a bit of time and work. I was initially unsure with you and Dimitri, because of our differences but, now I'm glad I decided to trust you both. You, especially, Claude. You've been... mn, kind.
[His tone was a little awkward. He really wasn't used to such heart-to-heart talks - he and Jeralt tended to skirt around them. It made him feel curiously exposed, amplified by Claude's proximity and contact, but he valiantly pushed down the squirmy, weird emotions that made him want to grab his cloak and pull it over his head to hide: irrational, pointless. Also it'd force Claude to stop his ministrations, which he really didn't want.]
I hope that you know... I'll also be willing to help you as well. In whatever you need. Be it confirming whether or not you snore or listening to your thoughts as well. Or if you just wish to... talk.
[Even more awkward! But he's trying!! He's trying, Claude!!!! (His face is red, yet still somehow utterly blank...)
Yes. I still find myself missing Jeralt, though. He always understood my moods without needing an expression to work from, and I never had to fear miscommunication, but... it's not so bad, leaning on others, even if it takes a bit of time and work. I was initially unsure with you and Dimitri, because of our differences but, now I'm glad I decided to trust you both. You, especially, Claude. You've been... mn, kind.
[His tone was a little awkward. He really wasn't used to such heart-to-heart talks - he and Jeralt tended to skirt around them. It made him feel curiously exposed, amplified by Claude's proximity and contact, but he valiantly pushed down the squirmy, weird emotions that made him want to grab his cloak and pull it over his head to hide: irrational, pointless. Also it'd force Claude to stop his ministrations, which he really didn't want.]
I hope that you know... I'll also be willing to help you as well. In whatever you need. Be it confirming whether or not you snore or listening to your thoughts as well. Or if you just wish to... talk.
[Even more awkward! But he's trying!! He's trying, Claude!!!! (His face is red, yet still somehow utterly blank...)
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