[ That smile tells him more than enough. So prim, so reserved, Dimitri might as well be lying -- and he's definitely humoring him. That amuses Claude enough to let it be. Not that he had much intention of pushing farther. What becomes of his dream in that world, is the concern of that Claude. Not his.
Outside of the mystery of this inexplicable prison, unless resolving it grants a miracle, there isn't much left to concern him.
That, the unsentimental reality of it. Something muddied, the more he speaks to Hilda, to Lorenz, to Marianne, and yes, even to Dimitri. So much so that it's a relief when Dimitri turns. Claude lifts his hand, mouth opening on a farewell quip, when the memory begins.
True enough, Claude has always had a penchant for sticking his nose where most might not think it belongs. But he has respect enough to at least intend not to pursue or pay attention to memories dredged up by this new infestation, the inherent and forced violation of it.
But what's he to do, when Claude himself (not-himself) materializes? Of course he watches.
And Dimitri doesn't seem to mind. ]
I'd been wondering...
[ A distracted admission. He'd thought to experiment with it in private, with holdig a memory, focusing, and initiating contact.
But. From the looks of it, that Claude had appealed to the Kingdom for help. Against the Empire, surely. Confident in the kindness of Dimitri's heart, and right to be so, for Dimitri had come.
The memory continues, Claude's attention dividing between it and the useless what-ifs compounding in his head. He'd been unprepared, even with the Almyran forces. But if he'd called Dimitri, would he have come? These last years, what had he...
You cross too many dangerous bridges for my liking.
I know, I know. But... that ends today.
What do you mean?
Here, take this. Use it however you see fit.
Hold, Claude. this must be one of your jokes. You cannot truly intend to part with this...
It's not a joke. As of today, the Leicester Alliance is no more.
Failnaught, that ghastly and incredible bow, passing hands. The Alliance joining the Kingdom once more. Claude, shucking the title of Duke Riegan once more, and this Claude understands he won't have an easy time of it in Almyra. Returning empty-handed, evidence of Fodlan cowardice. But, alive. With time yet to struggle.
With an ally in the king, who raced to save him.
Something brittle in his smile. He only notices when he feels the first fracture, raising a hand to brush at his hair and mask the moment of smoothing it out, of composure. ]
My hero, huh? Hey, I was right the first time.
[ If the Alliance is no more, then as far as Dimitri knows, even in another land Claude would be one of his subjects. ]
no subject
Outside of the mystery of this inexplicable prison, unless resolving it grants a miracle, there isn't much left to concern him.
That, the unsentimental reality of it. Something muddied, the more he speaks to Hilda, to Lorenz, to Marianne, and yes, even to Dimitri. So much so that it's a relief when Dimitri turns. Claude lifts his hand, mouth opening on a farewell quip, when the memory begins.
True enough, Claude has always had a penchant for sticking his nose where most might not think it belongs. But he has respect enough to at least intend not to pursue or pay attention to memories dredged up by this new infestation, the inherent and forced violation of it.
But what's he to do, when Claude himself (not-himself) materializes? Of course he watches.
And Dimitri doesn't seem to mind. ]
I'd been wondering...
[ A distracted admission. He'd thought to experiment with it in private, with holdig a memory, focusing, and initiating contact.
But. From the looks of it, that Claude had appealed to the Kingdom for help. Against the Empire, surely. Confident in the kindness of Dimitri's heart, and right to be so, for Dimitri had come.
The memory continues, Claude's attention dividing between it and the useless what-ifs compounding in his head. He'd been unprepared, even with the Almyran forces. But if he'd called Dimitri, would he have come? These last years, what had he...
You cross too many dangerous bridges for my liking.
I know, I know. But... that ends today.
What do you mean?
Here, take this. Use it however you see fit.
Hold, Claude. this must be one of your jokes. You cannot truly intend to part with this...
It's not a joke. As of today, the Leicester Alliance is no more.
Failnaught, that ghastly and incredible bow, passing hands. The Alliance joining the Kingdom once more. Claude, shucking the title of Duke Riegan once more, and this Claude understands he won't have an easy time of it in Almyra. Returning empty-handed, evidence of Fodlan cowardice. But, alive. With time yet to struggle.
With an ally in the king, who raced to save him.
Something brittle in his smile. He only notices when he feels the first fracture, raising a hand to brush at his hair and mask the moment of smoothing it out, of composure. ]
My hero, huh? Hey, I was right the first time.
[ If the Alliance is no more, then as far as Dimitri knows, even in another land Claude would be one of his subjects. ]
After all, you're his king.
[ With a wink. ]