#Forest Wyvern Claude | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fe-fictions · 1 year

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Any Claude angst.

(Claude getting kidnapped and rescued by his wife??? Speaking of reverse kidnaps... ;0 )

There’s always a bigger fish.

You and Claude lived by those words, without any question. However, when things were finally calming down and peace rose in the nations, you started to think that maybe, just this once...you hadn’t any danger to worry over.

Then you woke one morning to blurred vision, hot wetness dripping down the side of your face, and your limbs bound while submerged voices panicked around you.

You had been in a fight the night before, trying to protect your husband, before you were incapacitated and left to die. Hilda discovered you when the two of you didn’t show for morning training. The Queen of Almyra was assaulted; the King was taken.

It would be a painful few days before you could strategize without getting a headache. But it was imperative that the Golden Deer reassemble and hunt down your husband’s captors.

Who would have it out for him, besides the obvious? After all, countless threats had been extinguished following the end of the five year war.

At this point, you weren’t worried so much about “who” as you were “where”. If your husband was in danger and you couldn’t find him...that needed to change as soon as possible.

Hilda searched like a madman; she knew how frightened you were, and it made perfect sense given that she was also best friends with the man. She knew how it felt to have a part of you ripped away all of a sudden.

She was with Raphael and Ignatz, who put their tracking skills to use as best they could. You remained on the ground, where Marianne was basically by your side constantly. Seteth and Flayn had traveled from the monastery all the way to Almyra, where they needed to make sure you were safe and recovering.

Seteth’s concern wasn’t that troublesome man, he snapped at you, applying the herbal salve to the deep gash on your head, it was your health.

But he would be lying if he didn’t understand your fear. Claude wasn’t his favorite individual, but he knew how deeply you cared for the man- he would do whatever he could to help you bring him home.

Flayn made sure to keep your health on the road to recovery with Marianne walking in lockstep beside her.

You didn’t enjoy all the extra attention; it was too much trouble. You weren’t the one who needed help- Khalid did.

Sleep was rare on the days where no information was found. There were minimal clues, little to nothing for you to go by, and as far as you were aware...he was just gone.

You didn’t know what to do, and you could only think about what was happening to him. Or rather, what you thought was happening. Hilda told you not to think on such things; otherwise you’d look like Marianne when she was still a student.

You wanted to at least humor her advice, but how could you? Where were you supposed to find any semblance of mirth when Claude wasn’t safe in your arms?

Your fists would clench at every meeting where the same thing was repeated b y the reconnaissance team.

Nothing was found, nothing to report.

For two weeks straight, that was the answer you always received.

You weren’t sure you could handle a third.

It was midnight on the turn of the week that saw Hilda bursting into the bedroom with that fanatical sparkle in her eyes.

They had a hint. A solid, confirmable lead.

They had found Claude’s signet ring.

Fallen from a great height, likely being carried on the back of a wyvern. It was Khalid’s beast that had found it in the first place, several hundred miles from the castle and hidden by forest brush. But it was something.

Seteth took you into the air, following Hilda’s directions to regroup with the Deer that had found the ring.

You recognized the bright white beast from quite a distance, spotting him charging along the ground, following a faint trail that he wouldn’t be able to follow from the air.

It was like watching a giant, scaly bear trample an entire forest. It was difficult for the people on the ground to follow, Seteth’s dragon only barely keeping up. The poor thing was just as frantic as you were on the inside.

You rushed after him and refused to stop for miles. The sky would jut begin breaking into sunrise when the wyvern suddenly stopped, growling and whining and chuffing at a very specific point in the ground.

The ground.

“They’re keeping him somewhere below. There’s a hideout, here. We need to find the entrance.” You realized, and found your army quickly spreading out to find the secret door.

“Not to worry, Professor; It can’t be far from here; any Almyran hideaways like this are always quite small. Whoever’s using it is either a bandit or someone who wasn't planning on keeping him here for long. We’re very close to the border of the neighboring country...and they weren’t thrilled with Claude becoming king.”

How many prayers were whispered night after night, begging for begging that Khalid be brought back safe and unharmed/ And now your wishes were becoming reality.

All you had to do was find a way in.

It was Lorenz who spotted the entrance, ushering everyone over to try and formulate some sort of strategy. You didn’t want to just charge in and give Claude more cuts and bruises than he already had.

Unfortunately, your desires were overrun by a very angry wyvern crashing through the door and spitting hellfire through every corridor that it would reach.

Panicked screams filled the air and you launched into action. There would be little time to strategize, after all.

“Marianne! Take Seteth and head down the far east corridor- I want Hilda and Lorenz to the west, and Raphael, you’re with me and Flayn!! Everyone else, take the final hall to the south and do not come back unless you have taken every enemy down or found Claude!!”

And so the investigation began. You were sprinting, refusing to slow down for half a second. If you did, Khalid could be dead.

Raphael muscled his way through the doors, cutting through the wooden old things like it was paper.

You would have been proud of him had you not been so full of worry.

“Pleas, let him be here.” You mumbled to yourself, swerving around the corner and sending Raphael through the door. There was another door smashed, then another, and another. Then, suddenly, you reached the fifth entrance.

There was a shift inside, and then a heavy, wet cough muffled by the door. Raphael wasted no time bringing it down, and thank the Goddess for it.

There, crumpled and pathetically propped up against the wall, was your husband.

“Kh- Claude!!” You nearly forgot yourself as you rushed to him. The chains rattled as he drew further into himself. He was trying to protect himself.

“Oh Sothis- what happened to him?” Marianne gasped, stumbling over herself when she came into the room. The sight of him made the Deer recoil in shock.

Was this truly their fearless leader?

You were far more concerned with getting his eyes open. Your fingers closed, shaking, around those nasty chains. They were broken away from his limbs, at the very least freeing his movement. Then you touched his face, trying to draw his eyes back to you.

“Claude, it’s me. It’s Byleth.” He seemed to shift some at your voice, but you weren’t convinced he could hear you.

Dried blood was caked on his skin, little remaining of his clothing that wasn’t ripped or torn. There were so many injuries, so much that had been beaten out of him.

“Claude...Claude.” You echoed his name over and over, holding his face in your hands. His eyes were foggy, darkness looming and consciousness fading. Had you been too late?

You bit your lip, fighting back the sob welling in your chest. You pressed closer to him, ignorant of the Deer that were quickly filling the nightmarish space.

It was just the two of you.

“Khalid.”

Claude’s eyes flickered, if only for a moment. You inched closer and searched for the recognition in his expression. His brow tensed, as though trying desperately to focus on what was in front of him. To figure out if this was real or not.

If he really heard his wife calling his name.

“...By…”

You all but broke down sobbing, right there.

“It’s me. I’m here.” You whispered, “We found you.”

His smile was small and weak, but it was very much so there. You were sure he was laughing, had it not been overwhelmed by a wet cough.

“Oh, baby.” You whispered, “Let’s get you home.”

You held him to your chest as the healers worked their literal magic. He was slumped against you, his back to you while they worked on the most egregious wounds.

The suspicions of terrorism had been correct; countrymen that shared a border with Almyra wanted Claude gone. But not before they got some valuable information from him.

It made your nerves crawl and your arms tighten around him.

Claude was supposed to die.

He was limp against you while they worked, but he was breathing; you wondered if it was because he was too weak to properly move, or because he was truly relieved that he was in your hands, rather than those of a very violent enemy.

A few hours passed before Claude was cleared for movement outside of the room. You helped carry him from the room, Raphael and Seteth by your side and getting him to the caravan that had only just arrived.

It would be a longer journey home, but what mattered was you were bringing a living Claude with you; not a lifeless body.

He didn’t speak after being taken from the hideout, having fallen asleep in your arms. When he woke, though, he was safe and warm, lying in his bed back at home.

Like everything he had suffered through was only a dream.

But when you saw him wake, and he felt you crying silently against him, he knew it was real. Horribly, terribly real.

“S’okay, dearheart.” He rasped to you, his voice hoarse and devoid of any real tonality. He was definitely not back to 100%, but at the very least, he was no longer on the verge of death.

“Khalid...you almost...I-I...nobody knew if you were going to wake back up.” You whispered shakily, squeezing his hand and holding it to your chest. “I thought we were too late.”

“Looks like you got to me just in time.” He replied with a patient smile, though opted not to move his head or body more than he had to. That pain wasn’t going to fade for a long while. “Y-you really...saved me.”

“You stayed with me long enough to get to you.” You stroked his hair tenderly, “I’m just glad that you’re home.”

“Me, too.” There was something akin to a laugh that escaped him, especially when your lips touched his forehead. “Hey, now...y-you missed.”

“Khalid, you’re still weak.”

“You think a kiss is gonna kill me?”

“I’m trying to be gentle with you, you old goat.” You chided him without a lick of anger in your tone. He rolled his eyes and tilted his chin up, prompting a proper kiss.

“Come on. I’m suffering; a-aren’t you gonna ease the pain a little bit?”

“I’ve half a mind to make it worse.” You muttered, but you complied all the same. Your hands rested against his chest with a very gentle touch,

Rather than smacking him upside the head as you were tempted to...you kissed him. It was gentle, and slow, and filled you with warmth you had longed for. Claude tilted his head, turning to deepen the kiss almost enough to get himself into trouble.

You held him to you for as long as possible, breaking away with a soft pop that made Claude blush beneath all those cuts and bruises.

“There’s my girl.”

“You need to rest.” You whispered, playing with his hair and relishing that dreamy expression on his face. “The sooner you’re back on your feet, the better.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” He murmured, leaning into your touch. “I owe you big time, dearheart.”

“Please. Having you home is more than enough.”

Claude would dismiss your insistence that he needn’t repay you, but the love he felt for you could very rarely be contained. After all, you meant the world to him, and he wasn’t going to stand by and let you give him one nice kiss and then let things go back to normal.

No, the second he could shower you in every gift and form of affection as physically possible, he absolutely would.

You saved his life.

Just when he thought he couldn’t love you anymore than he already did...you proved that there was so much more inside him, a thousand fold.

He would spend every second of the rest of his life showing you just how much you meant to him.

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kyogre-blue · 6 months

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This awful nightmare month had FOUR paralogues. So tiring. And they don't even let me kill Flayn or Seteth! Or let me see Rhea murdering those two NPC imperial suckups. Disappointing all around.

To get my notes under the char limit, I'll put the part about the first paralogue here.

Immediately after Claude's death/deportation, we get invaded by Almyra. Holst "fell ill" but big doubt.jpg, since he does not show his face to either Hubert or Edelgard (Hubert can only comment that "it's said" that Holst looks and smells awful). The Alliance supposedly can't cooperate enough to muster forces to support the Locket, even though we just spent lots of time playing up how Claude maneuvered everything to go down with the least amount of damage possible and how the Alliance has been extremely peaceful and cooperative to our occupation and invasion. The Goneril soldiers book it immediately when we arrive, no green units for us. And at the end, Holst politely passes the duty of guarding the Locket to the Empire. Which is another way of saying he refused to do it anymore, possibly on account of the dead little sister. You know, just maybe.

This is hilarious in general, and you can read all kinds of funny things into it, especially since this is the route where the game lies to you all the time with a straight face, so you are free to interpret practically all things you're told as complete bullshit (and you'll be provably right at least half the time).

Personally, I think it's very funny to assume everyone who says the Alliance occupation is going oh so well is either wrong or lying. I mean, sure, Claude supposedly arranged it so things would go peacefully whether he won or lost, BUT he was wrong at least twice about his allies surrendering peaceably and his dying words are about how he misread the entire situation. Yeah, logically this is all structured to contrast how the Kingdom and the Church won't go down as peacefully, but it's funnier if the Alliance is also not peaceful about this at all.

Almyra certainly is not looking like a future friendly neighbor, despite Edie's optimistic outlook.

Live blogging:

Hubert reports that Thales has started collecting the Relics from the Alliance (cool! definitely not a problem! Hilda wasn't casually able to oneshot everyone with that awful axe!)

He also suggests that we have one of our Lions recruits pretend to be a hostage to force their family to betray the Kingdom. Lovely man, so practical.

Byleth: you're using too many Proper Nouns, I can't keep tracks :( Edelgard: don't worry about it, kitten

Nader's in good spirits, at least. The Almyran forces have a lot of wyverns, mounted archers and also giant birds.

Edelgard thinks we can befriend Almyra, she would even consider a treaty. It's not a land ruled by blind fealty to the goddess (lol), so as long as communicate openly and respect the differences between our cultures... OK. We're not gonna mention Claude at all, which is funny.

Next paralogue! Hubie is investigating Solon, Kronya and Arundel. He wants to know their identities, their origins, their numbers, their base of operations, their plans, and where they acquired their dark powers, how they disguise themselves. He calls them "those who slither in the dark."

Now, working backwards from this, it means that he doesn't know these things in early war phase (where we are now), unless we assume he got further in his investigations in other routes.

Also, as has been pointed out, although this is a descriptive name that Hubert came up with, it's also used by Rhea for some reason.

It's a shame that Arundel is just Thales, he has a pretty nice design.

Hubert calls Arundel "Regent" even now. Weird!

We're sent to help some Agarthans who were experimenting in the Sealed Forest but their demonic beast subjects ran wild. Hubert later suggests that this was all a setup to make Edie's faction feel powerless in the face of the Agarthans' experiment (because they are aware Hubert is investigating them), but it backfired because Hubie isn't intimidated at all. He's looking forward to when Edelgard finished uniting Fodlan, and then House Vestra will fight the Agarthans in the shadows. (Hilarious from a narrative standpoint.)

Incidentally, you only need to save more than half the mages to get Arrow of Indra. The "Mysterious Mages" that you save also do not have Agarthan Technology abilities unlike the shapeshifters. Ladislava is popular with the citizens of the empire. She doesn't put up airs, is talented and also beautiful. She's known as the Scarlet Warrior.

There isn't much unrest in the former Alliance territories, perhaps thanks to Caspar's dad's strength (aka keeping them in line by force).

Riegan was once a branch family of Blaiddyd, which is very mysterious given their different crests.

Ladislava's troops depart at the end of the month (February) to the western front. They have high mobility. iirc she's a wyvern rider.

It's a bit funny to get the quest for the Almyran merchant same month as the Almyra invasion paralogue.

Claude told Lysithea roughly that she shouldn't focus too much on whether they win. Unlike Judith and Hilda, she listened lol.

Hubert hanging out in the Deer classroom, thinking about Claude. Relatable. He says that Claude has a compassionate exterior, but underneath is cold and calculating. Harsh! Also, not really in line with Claude's behavior toward his allies.

Linhardt says that there's a passage from the Holy Mausoleum to the Holy Tomb, but he can't figure out the mechanism. It's not really clear where the Holy Tomb is, and I've seen the speculation that it's under the amiibo gazebo... but the Holy Mausoleum is in the cathedral, so the two being connected... it's possible both are true, but kinda weird if so.

Dorothea: They'll write operas about this... I'm sure a pretty actress will play you :) And Edie :)) Maybe they'll throw in a love story :)))) hahaha (extremely awkward laugh)

Just realized you steal Zoltan's idol from the advisory room in the cathedral. Nice.

Hubert and Edie A: He emphasizes again that he's devoted to her due to personal feelings but also that he's not loyal in the sense of following her orders. He does what he thinks is best and if Edie disagrees, or doesn't like it, or is kept in the dark for her own good, well, that's how it is. He also mentions that his devotion became personal after Edie returned from the Kingdom, which calls back to how he and Ionius treat it as some kind of malicious kidnapping.

Petra paralogue: Church is threatening Brigid :( Well, per the Empire's perspective. Catherine is here <3

Jokes aside, Petra's perspective is interesting. Brigid is trapped between the Empire and Dagda, and they don't have the ability to stand against either one. They were dragged into war with the Empire by Dagda, which they then lost, and Petra's father was even killed. So they became a vassal state of the Empire, but given the whole racism issue, they probably were not in a good position. So Petra is focused on basically proving that Brigid is a useful and valuable ally for the Empire. Which is a rather practical approach.

Leonie paralogue... Interesting details that you need recommendations to get into Officers Academy. In the Alliance this means paying nobles to get them. Raphael mentions that his family sold their business to pay for him, iirc, since he wasn't up to running it anyway. Ignatz's parents are more successful, so perhaps they could just afford it. Leonie's entire village had to chip in to buy her way in. Presumably Ashe was sent by Lonato directly (though interesting choice given that the uprising happens very early in the year, so he must have already been planning it). I think the only other commoner is Dorothea, who... well.

Linhardt brings up the crests perpetuate the nobility angle and says to take it up with the Goddess for handing them out like that. But given where Leicester crests actually came from... sigh

Linhardt read about the legend of Saint Indech, so it's free real estate for any other character to read in an AU. Very nice.

Lake Teutates... Indech is a giant turtle. Man, these "dragons" are all kinds of shapes lmao. He attacks with water spikes.

Leonie calls the Immovable One a "magic beast" which we haven't seen so far, only wild beasts and demonic beasts.

Linhardt immediately caught on that the Immovable One is Saint Indech.

Petra has been in Fodlan for 9 years as of the war phase, so she came 3 years before the Academy.

Garreg Mach can be entered from the north by following Aillel, the Valley of Torment.

The map this time is a modified version of the monastery defense map from end of Academy Phase and second battle of the other routes. Previously, I didn't realize that the right hand third is gone. Presumably, this is the gorge that Byleth fell into...

We're fighting an expeditionary force led by Alois, while Rhea and Catherine hold off the rest of our army at the Sealed Forest. Aaah, they're so cool <3 They're also set up an ambush.

OK, so the situation with Flayn and Seteth is that they just retreat when defeated, regardless of who fights them. I thought there would be some scene about specifically sparing them, but nah. They just leave on their own. You don't even have any unique dialogue with Seteth, and Flayn just talks about how she won't kill you since she owes you her life.

Rhea murdered the heck out of Ladislava and Randolph off-screen. Shame, I would have loved to see it.

We killed Alois tho! He felt that, since we betrayed Rhea, Jeralt would not have approved.

#playing fire emblem

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louvay · 2 months

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What do you think the Jugdral characters do in their free time?

Ohhh

Let’s see

Gen 1

Sigurd: Horse polo or an equivalent sport to it

Deirdre: flute playing

Quan: betting on horse races

Ethyln: weaving sweaters for her family

Finn: accompanying his liege while wearing said sweater

Eldigan: shopping in the bazaar for his wife

Edain: archery

Brigid: sailing

Dew: running scams

Jamke: taking care of the above

Lex: pub drinking then brawling

Ayra: training others in swordplay

Azelle: reading romance novels

Tailtiu: using electricity to cook things

Lewyn: spam poetry

Silvia: play writing

Erinys: counting army supplies

Claude: hosting sermons

Lachesis: tea parties with the cross knights

Beowulf: medieval equivalent of a gym idk

Arvis: portrait commissioning

Travant: raising wyverns

Arden: making a giant tub of soup for the army

Gen 2

Seliph: writing down and practicing his speeches

Leif: brewing S drinks

Ares: being dragged into the market

Lene: is the one dragging him

Shannan: learning how to properly evade paparazzi

Oifey: training others in horse riding

Lana: writing letters to her mom

Lester: testing out bow strings

Diarmuid: peer reviewing Seliph’s speech

Nanna: taking care of her horse’s mane

Scathach: bodyguard duty

Larcei: training with different styles of fighting

Iuchar: owning a whole garden

Iucharba: hachet throwing at the archery range

Arthur: camping in the forest

Tine: aiding villages in need

Fee: going around asking if people know of her cool aunt

Ced: teaching kids magic

Coirpre: casting incantations over their army’s encampment

Hannibal: recalling the good ol days with his troops

Altena: transporting goods on her wyvern

Febail: fishing

Patty: attracting attention to Shannan while profiting from it

Julia: remembering pieces of her life looking at Iuchar’s flowerbeds

#seal answers your quandaries #toonkirby #jugdral

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boundlesshart · 2 years

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congrats on fatherhood, claude

i’ll protect you from the murder forests, little guy.

a claude paralogue @ jackie’s seagull anchor

After a bit of shopping... it’s time to see what sort of things Mr. Jackie Seagull keeps in the back of the store.

Claude slips out of view, hiding behind a shelf of seashells and Jackie Seagull-branded merchandise. Waiting for the merchant to tend to a customer... before Claude quietly stalks to the door behind the counter. Unlocked? Amateur. And so, he sneaks inside...

...To nothing in particular. Besides this massive toy fish that’s twice the size of his head, so bold and bright that it immediately catches Claude’s attention. Who buys that?, and yet already he finds himself scheming of a way to sneak the fish out of the store. He approaches his new treasure, excited by the find, only for something else to catch his eye. Just with one look, all thoughts of the fish are forgotten. How could they not, when there’s an egg resting in here?

Claude is a child again, held in his father’s arms as Nader presents him his first wyvern’s egg, white speckled with dirt and sand, warm and leathery to the touch. Now, he tenderly runs his finger’s across this egg’s pale blue shell, his heart racing as he realizes its warmth, recognizes it texture.

He doesn’t know if it’ll work, but he has to try. In Almyra, this would be done in a dark room with a burning torch, but Claude makes do with his spells. A Fortify spells burns brightly in his palms, and once he has the egg in his hands... he sees veins glowing through the shell, red muted by blue. The creature within it is fairly well-developed, and with wings...

Wyvern. Little about this resembles any wyvern egg Claude has ever seen, but it’s impossible to tear away from the association. And impossible to even think about leaving it here in a back-room, even if it could have been doing just fine in this environment. Claude acts before he thinks, wrapping the egg in cloth scraps and obscuring its shape with the rope he bought. This may be just a story, but maybe this story has some kind of miracle in store for him...

Claude has obtained Egg!

#unscriptedqueenscompass2022

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rox-the-proxy · 5 years

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Of Secrets and Dragons

Dimivain hell? Yes please. This is basically a AU a friend andni came up with. It's based off of the idea that the goddess gifted certain family lines the ability to turn into dragons should all of Fodlan ever need protection. So, we have Beast/Dragon Form Claude, Edelgard and Dimitri. Hope you guys enjoy.

"It is said that on the Goddess's last visit here with normal man, she gifted three bloodlines a very unique ability. It was almost as if it was a parting gift. She gifted three of these Bloodlines the blood of dragons. At first, none of them understood why or what the purpose was. It was until they had children of their own did they understand. With the blood of different dragons running through their vines, their children could take the form of that particular species.

"One could take the form of a mighty Forest Wyvern. Swift as the wind, agile like no other. Its said a single drop of the blood of its blood on farm lands could rejuvenate the soil, bringing about plentiful crops or bringing plant life back to a area that has been long dead. This particular form now runs in the viens of the Riegan bloodline of the Leicester Alliance. Currently its said that the next Sovereign Duke; Claude Von Riegan now wields the ability to turn into this deadly, but elegant, life giving creature."

"The next, a hulking dragon that screamed power and Pride. This large winged creature is said to wield fire itself, being able to envelop itself in it's own flames to create light or even a form of protection. Its said this dragon can bring the end of harsh, ever lasting winters while being able to being pleasant summer days. This form of dragon is said to belong to the Imperial Princess; Edelgard von Hresvelg."

"And finally, There was the final dragon. This one, Flightless, wingless. But that alone did not mean it wasnt as strong and dangerous. This dragon, a drake, was a four legged dragon. A well muscled body, but somehow lean and quick. Powerful and struck a cold fear in those who stood in it's way. Its said this beast could bring about bitter cold and blizzards to fields when enraged. Or bountiful rain to areas who were suffering from a smoldering drought. As of now, it was said that this dragon form ran in the vines of the Blaiddyd family of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. However, as of now, its said that the crown Prince; Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd does not have this dragon form. Many suspect this form was lost long before the rule of Lambert, the previous King of the Holy Kingdom."

There was a long pause of silence in the Blue Lion class room as they sat there, listening to the rare and seemingly odd lecture of the day they were getting from Lady Rhea herself. She rarely ever left the first floor and she definitely wasnt one to teach a class. She was the Archbishop after all, she typically had far more important things to do verses actually teach a class. But they had been expecting this to happen. The Golden Deer house and the Black Eagle House had already received this same lecture from her. None of them knew why they were suddenly receiving this lesson or why she was even talking about it. Yes, strange things had been happening around the Monastery as of late, but in a way, some of the students were starting to think that maybe Rhea was in a way letting the house leaders know that maybe it was time to start using their dragon forms to send a message.

But as the Archbishop had stated, Dimitri was the only one out of the three who couldn't take the dragon form he was supposed to be able to take. Or at least that's what many believed. The class gave Rhea their thanks for her lesson she had given before watching her depart, once she was gone it was painfully obvious bow they all relaxed and sighed. Some, namely Sylvain, had slumped forward onto the dark wood desk, Felix to his left pinching the bridge of his nose. "Man, talk about throwing more of the churches issues onto the future King, Emperor and Sovereign Duke." Sylvain said, sitting back up and looking over at their future King who was looking down at the notes he had sitting in front of him. He was sure the blonde didnt actually write down anything important, but he did have to make it seem like he was Intrested in the topic. "Hey, dont look so worried your Highness." The redhead tried to reassure.

It was clear that he was nervous, on edge now. Dimitri was easy to read more or less when he got like this. Especially when it concerned that dragon of his. There was a reason why it slowly started to disappear in the family line. And that was because his family's particular form was high aggressive even if the king amdnor queen wasnt by nature. So, in reality only all of the Blue Lions knew why the Blaiddyd family had started using that form less and less as time passed. Sylvain huffed when he noticed that his words didnt seem to quite reach his blonde haired loved one. He stood up, walking over and kneeled down next to where the Prince was sitting. He reached up, his palm slid up the others cheek and his fingers tangled into the blonde colored locks, gently tugging. This got the younger male's attention, he turned his head to look at the red head, but frowned when Sylvain didnt remove his hand, only tugged again.

"Must you?" Dimitri asked, though it came out more like a whine verses a question. Sylvain only smiled, keeping his hand tangled in the golden locks, gently rubbing where he had tugged on the other's hair. "I'm fine, I just dont believe that its necessary for any of us to use those forms. Lady Rhea failed to mention those forms are used for emergency cases only. In which I mean the fate of all of Fódlan is at risk. Not because some people are questioning the Church." He himself wasnt a holy man, despite what his own kingdom was called. Never really believed in the goddess, much less took part in praying to her or any such things. His father was much the same way. Maybe that's why he turned out as he did. Not that he wasnt saying that the goddess didnt exist, he just didnt see a need to worship her so damn much. Especially when so many people have died thinking she would give them mercy and save them only for it to turn out otherwise. He sighed heavily, leaning into Sylvain's larger hand. "I'll need to speak with Edelgard and Claude about this when we all have some spare time."

"Work, work, work. That's all it is with you." Sylvain teased as he stood up, removing his hand from Dimitri's hair and sitting on the end of the table, soon enough the rest of the blue Lions soon gathered around their prince at the table he was sitting at. "But on a serious note, are you going to warn them about this? Or are you going to tell them?"

"They dont need to know," Felix interjected with his usual sharp tone, his arms crossed over his chest. "There had never been a need for them to know so I dont see a reason for them to know now. It's not like all of Fódlan is on the verge of collapse. I say leave them be. Dont go doing something stupid that you'll regret. I'm sure the other house leaders are smart enough to know what Rhea is getting at."

Same typical Felix. Sylvain could only sigh as he shook his head. But his younger friend did have a point. Edelgard and Claude were smart, they probably already put two and two together to figure out that the Archbishop was in a way, pressuring them into taking those forms when the church asked them to. Sylvain couldnt help but feel glad that Dimitri's family had started using that uncontrollable form of theirs less and less. Hell, he was sure not even Lord Rodrigue recalled how that dragon form of the Blaiddyd family looked like. Still, it was a bit of a bad thing that the family had no control over the dragon form. No one could ever really figure out why, many assumed maybe the goddess made it that way for a reason. But what reason could that be? Either way, it was a mystery and would probably remain that way for a while. The red head only was pulled from his thoughts when he felt Dimitri lay his head on his thigh.

A small smile graced his features, especially when Felix, even if it was out of character for him, reached out to place a comforting hand on his back. They cared for him, he was their friend after all and they had sworn to keep him safe after the Tragedy of Duscur and after the Rebellion. Dimitri had no control over himself when that rebellion took place west of their kingdom. It had been a forced transformation and no one who was there spoke of it to anyone else out of respect for the late King and for the respect and love they had for their Prince. "Its okay, things will work out." Sylvain assured him as he ran his fingers through the Blonde's hair gently. "Like you said, those forms are for when Fódlan is on the brink of collapse right? And yeah sure there have been a few strange things here and there but nothing to suggest Fódlan is in that much trouble or need of help."

"As much as I loath to agree with him," Felix started, pulling his hand back and crossing his arms over his chest. He easily ignored the shouted and offended shout of 'hey!' From his red headed friend. "He has a point, Boar. Right now things are fine. So realx." Despite his harsh tone and the glare on his face, anyone who knew Felix well enough knew he was saying it truly to help Dimitri relax and calm down. Felix raised a brow when the blonde turned his head to look up at him. With Dimitri laying his head on their older friend's thigh, one could tell he was tried. The prince was allowing himself to look Vulnerable, and Felix felt his blood boil at the mere idea of anyone else from the other houses walking in and seeing him like this. "Get up, goddess forbid anyone else sees you looking this pathetic." He snapped.

"Felix," Sylvain scolded lightly, keeping his hand on the back of Dimitri's head. There wasn't any actual pressure there keeping the Prince's head down, but it was Sylvain letting him know that he didnt have to move despite Felix's words. He could never really actually put heat behind his words when it came to Felix or Dimitri. He supposed they were his soft spots, he could never scold Ingrid because well she never really acted out of line. Unless it was with Dedue but the Duscur man handled that well on his own.

"Your too soft with him. Hes a boar, a beast, an animal. He doesnt need to be coddled." He snapped again, glaring at the older male. Honestly he knew Sylvain coddle him and Dimitri a lot, he was just like that even when they were kids. But they weren't kids anymore. Dimitri would be king soon, and with it a whole kingdom full of problems he would need to learn how to handle. Neither he or Sylvain would always be there, there would be times where he wouldn't see either of them for months. Sylvain couldnt keep coddling him like this, making the empty and stupid promise he would always be there at his side. "Get up and come spar with me. And try to control yourself I can already feel a cold chill in the air and we're in the middle of summer."

"Ah, My Apologies I didnt realize-"

"Of course you didnt. Just shut up and let's go."

Sylvain sighed heavily, he was disappointed that the Prince lifted his head from his lap but he knew there wasnt talking him out of it. At least sparring with Felix would keep his mind from thinking about the lecture they just got from Rhea. Though Felix had been right, even he could feel the slight bite of cold in the air, Dimitri always seemed to have trouble controlling his own abilities aside from his strength. It made sense that this was the reason why he shoved down whatever he was feeling when it came to the Duscur Tragedy and the Rebellion as well. Both incidents always caused Dimitri to have a flurry of different emotions and with thaoe emotions came harsh and sudden blizzards. Faerghus had experienced it once already, the Monastery did not need to. Still, there had to be more to Rhea's lecture. A few incidents couldnt cause something like this to come about, right? No it wouldnt make much sense. There was more that she knew that she wasnt telling the students. But that didnt mean that the Professors didnt know. Which meant their Professor knew as well, a soft hum escaped the red head as he thought about this. Could he and would he be able to get any information out of him? If nothing else, their professor was tight lipped about certain things if not just completely unaware.

"Sylvain, are you alright?" It was Mercedes's soft, gentle, and caring tone that brought him out of his thoughts. He looked up at her and gave her a small smile.

"Yeah, of course! Just thinking is all. Ah but it warms my heart to know that such a beautiful-"

"Sylvain," came Ingrid's warning, effectively cutting him off from one of his usual tangents.

Sylvain for his part only laughed, rubbing the back of his neck before allowing himself to listen to the chatter of his group of friends. He supposed things would he fine, maybe everyone was just over thinking things.

That would turn out to not be the case five years later.

When Edelgard declared war, when their Professor went missing and when they received news of Dimitri's execution it was like the world came crashing down all around them and there was nothing they could do to stop it. No matter how hard they had tried. He didnt think there was much rhyme or reason to return to the Monastery like they had all promised to do, after all, their king dead, their professor probably also dead. What reason would they have to go back? Still, he gathered Ingrid and Felix up, making the long and dangerous trip to what was once a second home to them all. However what gave the red head a sliver of hope was the striking cold in the air, the frozen bodies, the snow and ice that covered parts of the walls and land.

When they finally found him with their professor, this Dimitri was nothing like the one from so many years ago. This Dimitri was cold, harsh, bloodthirsty and thought only of killing Edelgard. For a long while, Sylvain didnt think there would be much hope for him. Whatever darkness that had a hold of him had finally been able to drag him down into its depths and it was like Dimitri wasnt even trying to fight it. Whenever they went, the harsh, biting cold followed. Wherever they went, snow fell, the battles the fought enemy soldiers ended up with icicle spears through them, other begging for mercy as Dimitri held their head in his hand. Quick and painless death was a rare thing from Dimitri. Sylvain had little to no hope of ever seeing the soft, gentle and shy Dimitri he once knew again. Felix had even tried to get through to him. But even that didnt seem to work. It took Rodrigue's death and nearly his own for Dimitri to finally snap out of it.

When he did, he gave them all such a heartfelt apology. Swearing he would make it up to them And atone for his mistakes, things had started going a lot better after that. The cold that followed their army faded away, Dimitri would actually show up to the war council and even training as well. He would even join them to eat dinner together. Though there were times when he would still distance himself from the group. At first Sylvain didnt understand why, but when he found him late one evening, patrolling the Monastery grounds in the Dragon form he had no control over previously. He felt a swell of pride and joy for their future king he couldn't stop himself from walking up to him. He looked...stunning in this form. He stood taller then a horse, his scales a beautiful mix and light and dark blue. Black colored Horns that grew up and slightly back from his head. In this form Sylvain could see the scars that littered his body, and it was countless, some overlapping each other, some small, others large. Though if he had to pick out which one was the worse one in his opinion-

It would be the one that took his eye. Not that Sylvain was bothered by the horrible scarring, not in the least bit. They all had their fair share of scars thanks to this war and even past battles. But when he saw the scars that just seemed to over take Dimitri's body, he couldn't help but feel his blood boil. Only because he knew a good amount of those scars were caused by his time imprisoned in the Capital under the pretenses that he had murdered his uncle. His eye had been lost during his escape from what Dimitri had implied. He never went into much detail about that day. No one could blame him. As Sylvain stood there next to the hulking creature that was his friend, he could tell Dimitri was tense. It was sad, seeing him so tense and always seeing to be walking on eggshells around not only him, but everyone. As if fearful of doing or saying the wrong thing. Dimitri used to be so confident, or at least he came off as confident. These days he doubted himself a lot, making it hard for him to see that he was indeed making the right decision. Even as Sylvain reached up and held the other's face between his hands.

It was odd, the feeling of cold scals under his hands. Considering he had only ever had been in his human form. Both remained silent, Sylvain gently holding Dimitri's head in his hands, thumbs stoking along his jawline. The touch seemed to have calmed him down, considering his remaining eye was closed in content, deep rumbles coming from him which he supposed were the dragon version of a purr. If that was even possible. The red head pushed that thought aside, there was a time and place for such joking things, right now wasnt the time nor the place. Right now, he was enjoying this moment of peace.

"Look at you. Never once did I think I would ever get to see you like this." Sylvain mumbled, pressing his head to the other's head. He shivered at how cold the other felt in this form but goddess it felt so pleasant. "Honestly it suits you. But I'd like to see you now. If that's okay?" Had he asked this from the blonde so many hours ago, he would have been met with a snarling growl and a harsh 'no'. But right now the got a soft, long exhale of breath before he pulled his head away from his gloved and armored hands. He watched as the King shifted from that dragon form back into the human form he had grown accustomed to seeing. Like this, Sylvain felt much better seeing. He looked more vulnerable, more...him. which in a way made sense, in his dragon form it was hard to tell how he was feeling, there was always an air of being on edge and ready for anything like that. Or at least that had been how Hilda explained it whenever Claude was in his Wyvern form. Sylvain smiled, reaching up to cup the other's face between his hands. Dimitri's flinch did not go unnoticed, but he kept his movements slow and steady, making sure to not startle the other so much.

It broke his heart every single time he saw Dimitri flinch away from what would be a friendly touch. It was sading to see how a simple pat on the shoulder or back was like the best type of touch hes ever gotten. How long had he gone only knowing harmful and malicious touch? Had it been since the death of his uncle? Since his imprisonment? Goddess only knew. Sylvain smiled when Dimitri leaned into his hands, his remaining eye closed. He noticed though how his hands seemed to hover awkwardly, like he didnt know what to do with them, as if he feared to touch anyone. "Its okay," he assured the King. He felt Dimitri stiffen for a moment before his reached up, placing his hands over Sylvain's. It took a long time for them to reach this point, before Dimitri wouldnt even allow anyone to touch him. Not even Sylvain who had never once ever dreamed of hurting him. But goddess it felt good to be at this point, there was a feeling of shock that washed over him when he felt the blonde lean against him, so much so that his head was resting against the crook of his shoulder and neck. "There you are, it's good to see you."

Dimitri hummed softly, the blonde moving his arms to wrap them around the other, pulling him close. He missed this, he missed Sylvain. He didnt think something like this would ever be possible. Especially after everything he had done, the lives he had taken so mercilessly. He wouldn't have blamed the older male if he had decided to never stand by him ever again. He wouldn't have blamed him if he had sided with the Empire and told the secret that yes, he did indeed have a dragon form. But he didnt do that, no Sylvain stayed by him, had tried time and time again to snap him our of his own madness. Even when he threatened them all, Sylvain never once held it against him. He didn't quite understand why he didn't, why he had been so forgiving of his horrendous behavior, but he was. Dimitri these days knew it was best not to question the good things that were given to him even if he found himself tempted to question it constantly. "Why are you not in bed? We have a long March ahead of us tomorrow, you should be resting." Dimitri didn't need to see the other rolling his eyes at his words he could practically feel it.

"And let you wander about like a guard dog alone when you need just as much rest as the rest of us? No way, come on, Dima. Let's get you to bed." Dimitri chuckled, leave it to Sylvain to pull something like this. He didnt fight the other when he pulled away, slipping his hand Into his own and leading him back to their old dormitories. Dimitri couldn't recall ever actually stepping foot into his old room, and now that he might he felt himself grow extremely nervous. Sylvain must have noticed because as they walked and arrived at the second floor of the dorms, he bypassed the King's room entirely and entered his own. Obviously since coming back the red head took the time to clean the room out, make more suitable for him now verses back when they were young, innocent and still had delusional ideas about how they would change the world for the better. How foolish had Dimitri been back then. At least Sylvain had always been a bit more cynical then him, knew the world wasnt always as good as it seemed. Not everyone had good in them like Dimitri wished to believe. By the time Dimitri turned back into the world around him, the red head had already gotten out of his own armor and had gotten his entire chest plate off. "How often does that happen?"

For a moment, Dimitri found himself lost and unsure of what Sylvain was speaking of, but it came to him rather quickly. The zoning out, the disassociation as Mercedes called it. Compared to just a few weeks ago, it didnt happen as often as it used to, but it would still occur from time to time. On those days it was like he was watching the day pass through someone else's eyes. He found himself forgetting to eat, forgetting to sleep. Basic human function became extremely hard to do, this often lead to someone needing to be with him at all times for the rest of that day or for however long the disassociative episode lasted. "More often then I would like to admit." It wasn't a good answer, not good news by any means, but was a truthful response. He watched as Sylvain nodded, working on removing the dark colored armor he insisted on wearing. Even when Gilbert gave him the Blaiddyd armor he refused to put it on just yet.

Sylvain nodded, there was a glint of sadness and guilt in his eyes. As the blonde's friend and the oldest of their group of four he had failed when it came to looking out for all three of them. He ended up being someone Ingrid had to constantly trail behind to make sure he stayed out of trouble. Even Dimitri would pull him aside and scold him. Felix didnt even try but sure as hell made it known he wasnt happy with his behavior. At the end, they all only did that for one reason only; to make sure nothing bad happend to him. Because in their minds, loosing him would be just as bad as losing Glenn. It was touching to know he meant that much to them. But it was also sad to see that the trauma of losing Glenn had affected them all so much they felt as if they needed to do more then necessary to make sure he was going to be just fine. When he finally managed to get he other out of the armor and in clothing much more comfortable to be in, he guided the king to lay down flag on his stomach. He could tell the younger male was tense, worried about what he was planning. "Relax, its okay. Your safe here." There was more meaning to his words. Dimitri wasnt only physically safe here, his secrets, his doubts, his fears all of it was safe here. Sylvain was never one to go around speaking of the insecurities and tightly guarded secrets others trusted him with. "The empire still doesnt know about your dragon form, I'm going to assume none of the others know as well if only because they think you cant control it." He watched as the blonde turned his head to side, somewhat looking at him with his remaining eye. "I think we should keep it that way for a while. A sort of...ace in the hole."

"Would it not be better to reveal it sooner rather than later?" Sylvain could see where that would be the best idea, but he also knew that having something like that as a secret and only using it as a last ditch effort would serve them as an advantage. Plus if Edelgard caught wind that he did have a dragon form after all, she would know exactly how to kill him, it wouldnt he a problem for her. It would give her the necessary time to figure it out if she didnt know.

"The less the Empire knows about us in general, the better, Dima." The red head said simply as he gently started to massage the others back and shoulders. The king was tense, wincing whenever his hands seemed to press and knead into a particularly sore and tender spot. Dimitri didnt seem to have a response for what he said, after all he did have a point. The less Edelgard knew, the easier it would be for them all to do what they needed to do in order to stop her. "But for now, let's worry more about how tightly wound your muscles are. It's no wonder you're always stiff like a statue."

If nothing else, it was always easier to be in Sylvain's company compared to the company of anyone else. That is not to say that Dimitri didnt care for the others, because by the goddess he did. He would tear down all of Fódlan if it meant he could keep them all safe and alive. But with Sylvain, with this flamboyant, smooth talking red head, it was different. Perhaps it was due to the fact that with him, doing anything had always been easier. He ould always be more emotional around him, physical touch wasnt as a much a fear as it had been with anyone else. Sylvain even encouraged it, often times locking their arms together, throwing his arm over his shoulders and dragging to wherever he pleased or even always putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. On rare occasions, a friendly but gentle pat on the head as well. Dimitri would refuse to admit to anyone that those pats on the head had been his favorite. Maybe that's why letting him do this, rub out the tension in his body was so easy for him, letting the other's gentle hands run up and down his back, carefully kneading. When the older male hit a particularly sore spot, the one eyed male hissed, arching away from his touch. Dimitri could name every single spot on his body that was far more tender and tense then anywhere else. It was how hebhad been living for the past five years since his escape from Fhirdiad.

"Shh, shh. Easy I know hurts right now but it will get better." Sylvain was quick to comfort, quick to lighten his touch on that spot just under and along his left shoulder blade. He had a feeling he knew what brought the tension on in the muscles in this particular area. If nothing else, Dimitri was a master with a Lance, but he wasnt thebobly one who had exceptional skill in the use of this type of particular weapon. He had encounter plenty of other Lance users and he had used Areadbhar many times in battle. Often times, he watched his King push himself far past limits he knew better then to cross. But did so anyway, which lead to torn muscles, and soreness in his shoulders more often than not. And if seemed like this time would be a case of exactly that. It felt like hours had passed before Sylvain seemed to have finally gotten the muscles in Dimitri's back to relax. When he moved to lay next to the king he paused and smiled at the sight of the king peacefully asleep.

When had he even drifted off? He wasnt sure, but he was happy to see that the man still trusted him enough to even fall asleep around him. As he laid there, watching the man in slumber, is when he started to notice small things, such as that even covered in warm, fur blankets, Dimitri's skin was cold to the touch. If one looked closely enough when he was awake, one could see the faint Cerulean glow his eye had. Even his teeth seemed sharper as well, all attributes and traits that he got as he got older thanks to the dragon form that ran through his family's blood. For now, the others didnt need to know about his control over his beast form, not yet. It could be a secret between him and his king. For now, Dimitri could rest.

For tomorrow, it was back to war, back into the fighting.

#dimivain #fe3h fanfic #fe3h dimitri #fe3h sylvain #fe16 #Ice Drake Dimitri #Forest Wyvern Claude #Fire Dragon Edelgard #Beast/Dragon Form AU #Sylvain x Dimitri #sylvain jose gautier #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd

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glowingbadger · 3 years

Note

The Sylvain and Dimitri arranged marriage stuff made me think of a claude version of it. Maybe an AU where Claude never came to fodlan and reader has to marry the prince/king of Almyra to improve countries relationships. Anyway seriously love your stuff thank you so much for the content!!

Oh hoo Anon, this is a wonderful take on the concept. Let's see what I can whip up for us~

((side note I feel like we never learn whether Almyra speaks a different language from Fodlan?? But being multi-lingual is sexy so idgaf))

((And also I used Bengali for Almyran because I have Bengali family and the language is so beautiful even though the english alphabet phonetic spellings are weird af))

Claude x Reader - Arranged Marriage

NSFW 18+ (like only towards the end tho idk)

Overall, you do what you can to stay out of the way. You'd been sent to Almyra as a symbol- a token, more than anything else. Now that you were in King Khalid's possession, very few throughout the castle paid you any particular mind. You were provided for, of course. Anything you cared to ask for was given. But you didn't speak a word of the Almyran language, and those who bothered to use what they knew of Fodlan's to communicate with you seemed to view you as a pet to be kept safe and healthy, and little else.

By week's end, there was to be a lavish banquet in honor of your union with the King- though of course, your input on the proceedings is entirely unwanted. In some ways, Almyra is quite similar to Fodlan. Court life is much the same. As you wander through the royal gardens, wondering at a range of colorful and exotic flowers you'd never heard of, let alone seen, a voice speaks smoothly behind you.

"Did you know you can actually eat the petals of this particular flower? They're very sweet."

You whirl around and nearly bump into King Khalid. You're about to stammer out an apology, but he reaches out and plucks a single white petal and holds it before your lips.

"Go on, I think you'll like it."

Whatever possesses you to eat a flower petal from this man's hand is something you'd rather leave unexamined for the time being- but he is right about the flavor. It's sweet, but not overly so, and quite pleasant.

"Hm! Yeah, it's nice," you say, then glance up at him as another thought occurs to you that you'd considered once or twice before, "You speak the language of Fodlan very well, my Lord."

"I'm flattered," he says with a disarmingly handsome smile, "and please, just Khalid. I don't think I could bear to have my own wife stand on such formality with me."

He says it so naturally, as if you'd been planning this union for years. Though, once again, he's right. This is only perhaps the dozenth time you've exchanged words, but you are wed, and you ought to get used to addressing him as your husband.

"Khalid..." you say tentatively, "Did- did you need something from me? I hope I wasn't too much trouble to find."

"Not when you find such pleasant places to hide," he replies, still wearing that easy smile, "but to be honest, I was actually hoping you'd accompany me for the day. I can finally afford to take a bit of time away from the castle, and I think you and I both would appreciate some space to breathe. What do you say?"

Correct once again. You nod, and take the arm he offers you. As he leads you out from the gardens, he points out a few more plants native to your new homeland. They're incredibly varied, each more strange and vibrant than the last. All the while, he's somehow made you feel as though you're chatting with an old friend. You leave the gardens and wander towards the area you vaguely recall to be designated for horse stables and wyvern stalls.

From there, a few things happen in sequence. Khalid asks if you're afraid of flying. He asks if you trust him to hold on to you. He helps you up onto the saddle that seems impossibly high up on its own right, and then, you're propelled into the air with a force your body has never felt before. You tense and shrink back against his chest, clinging to whatever part of the saddle you can find purchase on for dear life. Up here, it's difficult to pick up, but you feel your husband laugh behind you, then his strong arm wrap around your waist.

"Relax, I won't let anything happen to you," he says against your ear, his voice sure and steady, "I've got you."

And it takes a few miles of flying and a lot of Khalid distracting you by pointing out different buildings and shops along the streets below, but eventually, you do manage to relax- at least a little.

The castle town is positively buzzing with activity. Even from your distance in the sky above, you can see clusters of people moving around each other like fish up stream, and even hear the faint echoes of a merchant advertising goods.

"It doesn't seem at all like the Almyra we're taught about in Fodlan."

"Oh, it is," Khalid assures you with a bemused chuckle, "But it's also much more. I imagine it's the same for your people. There's a lot we can learn from one another, I think."

By the time the sun is high in the sky, you've passed the most densely settled part of town and are gliding over farmland and the occasional pocket of forest and rivers that split and cross through the earth like veins. Though, the warmer climate of Almyra will still take some getting used to, and it seems your husband considers this.

"Let's land for a bit and find some shade,"

You nod, and he directs his wyvern to begin a slow descent.

The King had thought of everything for this little day-trip, it seemed. Having evidently packed everything you'd need in the saddlebags on his steed, you now recline beside him on a plush blanket in a clearing amidst the trees. A small brook bubbles down from stone to stone in small waterfalls beside you, and the air feels positively alive with birdsong and rustling leaves, all foreign to you and all part of your new home. And so is he, you think as you glance over at the handsome figure of your husband beside you.

You'd been sitting in a comfortable quiet, munching on a couple of very dense pastries which Khalid had told you incorporated an extract of the flower you'd sampled earlier. He gives a satisfied sigh as he finishes his first and lies back on the blanket, taking in and savoring a deep breath. As you finish the last bites of your own treat, you reflect on the day thus far. You'd learned much about the locals and their daily lives by observation and Khalid's description in such a short time, and he'd even taught you a hand full of basic words and phrases in Almyran.

"Uhm, Khalid?"

He opens one eye and gives you a sideways glance.

"It was... dhonnobad, right? Thank you?"

His smile his open and warm, his eyes practically shimmering in the reflected sunlight from the nearby brook.

"Well, we'll have to work on your pronunciation, but I'm impressed you remembered," he beckons you down onto the blanket beside him, and you follow, lying on your side as he turns towards you. You're closer than you'd anticipated, even given the limited realestate of the blanket, and you internally scold yourself for being shy about something so silly- like some naive adolescent.

"Let's try a couple more words, since you've been such a diligent student."

"Okay," you say with a smile, "try me, I'll do my best."

"Hmm..." he looks around your private clearing, then gestures towards the brook and says, "Jala"

"Jala," you repeat slowly. He nods,

"Right- that's 'water'. And, uhm..." he points toward a patch of wildflowers at the edge of the brook, "Phula. That's 'flower'."

Again, you repeat as best you can, and though you know your pronunciation must be off, he's encouraging nonetheless. Then, he leans in towards you, and brings his free hand to your cheek, his fingertips brushing your skin lightly.

"Now try sundara."

"... Sundara?" you make an attempt, and you're sure you got something about that 's' sound mixed up, but Khalid just gives you a slanted smile. He doesn't clarify at first, so you ask, "What does that one mean?"

His fingers slowly weave back into your hair, and his voice is low and soothing as he replies,

"That means 'beautiful'."

Your face warms immediately, but you hardly have a moment to feel bashful about it before he presses his lips to yours, kissing you slow and deep. His movements are effortlessly sensual, pulling you towards him and sending your pulse pounding through your veins. You part your lips to him almost instinctively, and the way he uses his tongue is sparing, but oh-so effective. When he finally pulls away, your head is spinning and it's all you can do to meet his gaze.

"So... that's how they kiss in Almyra." you say, barely above a whisper. Khalid smirks and turns you onto your back, sliding an arm around your waist.

"Oh, no- there's no tradition in this, only skill."

Goddess- if they'd warned you of the King's supernatural charms, you wouldn't have believed them. But now his lips are on yours once again, and he's holding your body to his, and you can't think of anything else. Your arms drape across his shoulders, and faster than you can track, your bodies have met in a tangled, impassioned embrace. It was hard to imagine that mere kissing could feel so erotic, but something about his pace, about how his lips and hands move in tandem, about how thorough he is in exploring you, makes you feel like it would be only natural to give yourself over to him completely.

His kiss travels along your jawline up to the shell of your ear, where he nips briefly, then murmurs,

"I was hoping to apologize for how little time we've had to get to know each other before today," you bite at your bottom lip as his hand slides down to the curve of your hip, "if that would be pleasing to you, my dearest wife."

"Ye- yes..." you sigh into the open air as his lips reach your neck. The single word is all either of you need. He never stops pressing lavish kisses to your lips and neck as he pulls your clothing out of his way. By the time he's satisfied, your clothes are draped off your arms and pooling around you on the blanket- and he doesn't seem to care to remove them entirely. He has a goal in mind.

Slowly, painstakingly, he makes his way down your body. You feel him everywhere- hands tracing and memorizing your frame, breath hot across your skin as his lips spoil you with adoring kisses. Soon enough, he's kissed his way to your lower stomach, and he urges your thighs apart beneath him. You suppress the instinctive wave of embarrassment at being exposed to him for the first time- he is your husband and your King, afterall- but then, his head dips down towards your plump lower lips, and your mind goes white.

"Khalid-!" you gasp out as his tongue trails coyly up the crease of your folds. He hums contentedly, and places a disarmingly chaste kiss to the soft skin. Then, his thumbs gently spread you open for him, and your entire body burns while he takes a moment to merely admire you- your pretty little hole already wet, your clit already hard and flushed dark. When his head lowers once more, his green eyes meet yours steadily, as though to promise without words to be good to you.

And in a moment, his mouth begins to gently tease your clit, and your head tilts back on the blanket. Your hips jerk just a bit with each pass of his tongue across the sensitive bundle, and occasionally you can't hold in a gasp or whimper of pleasure. This only encourages him, of course. The more you moan and sigh, the more dedicated he becomes to your body. He presses himself more firmly to you, his lips surrounding your clit and the surrounding tender flesh, and he suckles on you, licks you, kisses you. You don't know when it happened, but your hands are at the back of his head, fists tangled in thick brown hair as he diligently works.

The unbearable tension is winding tight and anxious in your lower body- you know he'll drive you to climax before long, and the mere thought feels like falling in love. And then Khalid moves lower, and his tongue dips inside of your entrance. You gasp and unwittingly tug on his hair- but he certainly doesn't seem to mind. With a lustful groan, he presses more firmly to you, truly buried against your body as his dexterous tongue curls upward, stroking the vulnerable spot behind the nerves of your clit.

"Khalid!" this time it's nearly a scream, and you're grateful that your voice is lost in the surrounding foliage. Your thighs begin to shake, and your hands release him to instead clutch the blanket behind you. And at last, with a whimper in a voice you hardly recognize, your lower body floods with soaked warmth as your orgasm sweeps through you. Panting, twitching, you moan out for your husband over and over, until finally, the wave begins to subside, and Khalid pulls away to position himself above you on all fours.

"That's a nice expression..." he says with a grin, directing you to look at him with a hand at your chin, "I hope I'll get to see it often."

When your eyes finally refocus, you look up at him somewhat apologetically,

"I should... attend to you."

He laughs and kisses your forehead,

"There will be time for that tonight, don't you think? Once we're a bit more... put together," he says with a glance at your bare form, "we should head back to our ride. I'll bring you back to the castle, and we'll get the cooks to prepare something very 'Almyran' for you."

You nod- it probably wouldn't do for the first time with your Lord Husband to be mid-day in the woods. Though he'd certainly failed to make it seem unappealing.

"And then," he goes on, bringing a finger to trace the curve of your bottom lip, "Well, maybe we'll excuse ourselves to our bedchamber a bit early this evening, and we can continue this little... cultural exchange."

#why do these always end up so long urg #claude von reigen #fe3h #claude x reader #fire emblem smut #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem #feh #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem imagines #x reader #claude fire emblem #not sfw writing

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lananiscorner · 2 years

Text

FE3H DimiMari Playthrough - Maddening ch. 1-3: A Man on a Mission

Welcome to my DimiMari playthrough--my first Maddening playthrough with the extra difficulty of no NG+ and only being allowed to use Holy Knights Dimitri and Marianne! Today, we look at how chapters 1 to 3 went beneath the cut.

Chapter 1/Prologue:

I am lumping these together since they are so short. In the prologue, I let Byleth collect everyone’s weapons for the convoy, while Dimitri takes their vulneraries and goes to town on Kostas’s bandits. Even his very first level up proves that he is not messing around--my Maddening!Mitri is a man on a mission:

You might think this was a fluke, but oh no. Here’s level 3:

He is level 12 at the time of this writing and all but 1 of his level ups have been like this. Dimitri is channeling the “parry this, filthy casual” meme, but of course he’s being humble as ever about it:

Next up is my first exploration. I switch everyone on my team into summer outfits, because team solidarity and I love those outfits. I also take their items, give Dimitri the Chalice of Beginnings and the Sacred Snow Melt Drop (STR +3). After 9 playthroughs, I finally notice that there is a function to change everyone's attire at once. I do my rounds, feed Flayn, take loving care of Dedue's seeds, and have dinner with Marianne and Dorothea, since I want to recruit both of them earlier (Marianne because it’s not a DimiMari playthrough without her and Dorothea because her paralogue is one of the earliest available and I know from my Felannie playthrough that there will barely be time to do all the pre-skip paralogues).

When I get to the mock battle, I start to realize that the UI is a filthy liar. Recommended level: 1, actual enemy level: 7. Wtf? Guess I’ll be heading over to the wiki (the .org one) for enemy/reinforcement information per map, so I don’t run into this completely unprepared. Thanks to the Chalice, Dimitri ends up getting past the first three students fairly well and masters Noble, before luring out Hilda. Though Claude is the only one on this map who is fast enough to double Dimitri and I wanted to avoid him, I had to put myself in his range to take out Hilda and keep Byleth out of combat. Dimitri takes revenge for nearly dying by scoring a 42 DMG hit on Claude thanks to his crest proc. RIP that iron lance. Hanneman's range far surpasses Dimitri's, so I have to bait him from the forest, which ends up better than expected even though Dimitri’s RES is pitiful.

This unfortunately trigggers the remaining Eagles to advance, and Ferdinand and Edelgard actually try to flank Byleth. I decide to risk baiting Ferdinand and take him out with another Tempest Lance. At this point, I have already used more combat arts than I usually employ in an entire playthrough. I hide from Edelgard in the forest, because her STR stat is scary. Thankfully, not as scary as Dimitri's Tempest Lance and great level ups (he is now level 6 and will actually be able to switch into a beginner class, woohoo!) Manuela is a piece of cake. Dimitri once again thanks everyone for all the hard work that he did so well solo lol.

Chapter 2:

Since Dimitri will only need lance rank C to wield a Killer Lance and go into Holy Knight, and SPD+2 is nothing to sneeze at in Maddening, I put him into Myrmidon instead of Soldier. This will turn out to be a great decision, because combined with his good level ups, he ends up doubling nearly everyone for the next two chapters.

During this first week's exploration, I recruit all the Ashen Wolves (and put them into summer outfits of course!) and have lunch with Dimitri and Marianne, as well as Hilda and Raphael. I switch all the boys to Axe and Flying, except Dimitri (Authority and Faith), as well as most of the girls to Reason and Flying (except Ingrid, who gets Lances, and Hapi, who gets Lances and Flying). My first instruction priority is to unlock Dimitri's budding talent in Riding and helping Yuri and Balthus get onto wyverns. Both their banes are awful for mobile classes (Balthus has banes in Lances and Flying, so he is always half-handicapped when trying to get into Riding/Flying, Yuri has banes in Lances, Axes, Riding, AND Flying, so fuck him), which is also why I put them on sky watch together until they reach support level B. Then someone else will get the honor (probably Dedue and Shamir).

During the practice battle, Dimitri thankfully doubles everyone and gets to lance rank C. He also manages to get Jeralt’s Mercenaries to level 5 and red health, which means I now have a good battalion for his Battalion Wrath/Vantage shenanigans. As usual, I take Seteth's seminar for the authority boost. I also buy a javelin and a steel lance just in case.

During Red Canyon Dominance, Dimitri gets his first poison strike from an archer, as well as his first critical hit on an enemy. Since there is no way for Dimitri to cross Kostas’s range to get to the archer hiding out in the east (I should have taken him out first), he has to take the long way around. If I can't milk Kostas for experience, I'll at least get the archer!

Chapter 3:

During this chapter’s first exploration, I complete Manuela's faculty training quest ASAP, since I will need to train riding to get Marianne early, and get the Roster Retrieval mission from Constance. I also recruit Anna, who cannot be put into a summer outfit (HERESY!) and have a meal with Marianne and Lysithea. I also hire the Seiros Holy Monks and Knights of Seiros for their Stride/Blaze gambits.

In the second week, I have lunch with Dimitri and Marianne, and faculty training with Jeralt and Hanneman (I need to get to at least E+, preferably D in Riding to recruit Marianne at B/B+). I save scum these a bit, so I can get "great" in training instead of "good" for the extra boost in points. I would love to explore for motivation in the third week as well, but I want to get the roster retrieval done so Dimitri can get to level 10 and Cavalier before fighting Lonato, and week 4 has a meal event, so battling it is. He also reaches D in Faith, so I can now let him focus solely on reaching A in Authority (he will grind his faith rank to B+ in one or two auxiliary battles once I have the Knowledge Gem). In the fourth week, I have lunch with Marianne and Dimitri again, train Riding with Hanneman, and since I am only 305 points away from professor rank D+, I also have lunch with Bernadetta and Ferdinand, and do some fishing.

Finally, I tackle Magdred Ambush, already mentally preparing myself for the fact that I will not be able to keep both of Catherine's church goons alive. I make sure that Dimitri has two fresh iron lances and a steel lance, and buy some torches for Byleth, before heading into battle. I hope Catherine is as sturdy here as she is in Normal/Hard mode. So far this run has been going suspiciously well, so I am waiting for things to go wrong.

Predictably the first church soldier dies in turn 2. Dimitri keeps missing some of his 87% hits which is :( I spend all my divine pulses on fog missteps (put Byleth a little too far forward and got her into someone’s range), so by the time I defeat the dark mage commander, I just have to hope Dimitri will be fine for the rest of the map. Cat's 2nd church goon dies soon after. A lot of Lonato's men commit suicide by Catherine. At the end of the fight, with no divine pulses left, I decide to risk Catherine acting as she should (i.e. not attacking Lonato) and gallop Dimitri back to the start to take out the archer and soldier hiding in the forest in the north. This thankfully works. On the way back to Lonato, I equip Dimitri with a steel lance so he can Knightkneeler him. Out of sheer force of habit, I accidentally use Tempest Lance instead lol. Lonato still goes down in two rounds. Dimitri's motivation is maxed out after killing one of his lords. Oops.

Thus concludes chapters 1-3. Have a summer squad to celebrate:

#Fire Emblem: Three Houses #FE3H #FE3H DimiMari playthrough #I had expected Maddening to be MUCH harder #especially the mock battle #but so far it's been going well thanks to Dimitri's excellent level-ups #I have also been reminded how much I hate Yuri's banes #looking at my support with Marianne at the end of chapter 3 #I think I'll be abe to recruit her either in late chapter 4 or early chapter 5 #also Poison Strike has ended up being more of a nuisance than a problem #since it doesn't actually poison--just does some extra 1-time damage

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raspberryranpo · 3 years

Note

Tea prompts: Rosehip and earl grey for Bl boys and Claude/ Yuri post time skip pls!

blue lion boys + rosehip and earl grey

fire emblem three houses: blue lion boys

rosehip tea: how romantic are they?

earl grey tea: how did they court their s/o?

i hope you don’t mind, but i didn’t write for claude or yuri!! i don’t know yuri all that well since i haven’t played the dlc yet :((

——> tea prompts

DIMITRI

how romantic are they?

dimitri wants nothing more than to be romantic but he’s just too awkward

he holds your hand & kisses your cheeks but that’s about it

he’ll try to kiss you in other places but there’s a chance he might combust

how did they court their s/o?

he told you that he loved you on the goddess tower, because he has no idea where else to do it

before that, though, he’d always try to start conversations with you from nowhere

like he’ll ask you what your favourite type of cheese is and expect you to automatically fall in love with him

DEDUE

how romantic are they?

dedue isn’t much of a romantic person - he likes to show you that he loves you through acts of service but he can’t really just kiss you out of the blue

that’s not to say that he doesn’t kiss you, though!! he does enjoy doing that but only when there’s absolutely nobody else around

he would rather die than have someone see him kissing his s/o

how did they court their s/o?

he left you your favourite flowers at your door every day after classes

probably wrote a little note in there, thanking you for some random act of kindness you showed him or someone else that day

always signed his name, thinking that there was no point in hiding it

SYLVAIN

how romantic are they?

sylvain is by far the most romantic of all the blue lions. by far.

will take you on cheesy dates and flirt with you in front of all of yours and his friends

but most of all, he loves telling you how much he adores you behind closed doors, with nobody to judge him for how soft he truly is for you

how did they court their s/o?

he always made an effort to show you that he’s not a brain dead skirt chaser & always told you the most random facts during class

he’ll lean over and tell you about the history of wyvern riders just to impress you

always makes a flirty comment or joke, though - he can’t ever give up doing that

FELIX

how romantic are they?

in contrast to dimitri, felix likes to think that he’s not romantic at all, when in reality, he’s the sweetest boyfriend you could ask for

he spends a lot of time thinking about whether he actually deserves you & since he’s very observant, he always remembers everything that you say

so whenever you have a bad day, the book you were taking about or the flower you were telling him about always ends up at your door

how did they court their s/o?

sylvain or annette probably blurted out the fact that his crush on you is really obvious

which lead to him punching sylvain in the face with the biggest, reddest blush on his face (which really said it all)

afterwards, when everyone had left, he apologised, only to be kissed on the cheek in return

ASHE

how romantic are they?

ashe’s romance skills come solely from the books he reads.... which aren’t actually romance books at all

but he does really sweet things and gives you all kinds of sweet compliments which never fail to make you smile

the first thing he does in the morning is tell you how pretty you look, and how lucky he is to have you

how did they court their s/o?

he always makes some time for you out of his day, no matter how tired he feels

more often than not you end up just outside of the monastery, in the forest, reading a book that he’d recommended to you

he doesn’t tell you that he likes you for quite a while, not until the war ends

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philliamwrites · 3 years

Text

the fault in our stars

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Characters: Claude & OC

Tags: #multiple dimensions, #dimension travelling, #platonic love, #mentions of major character’s death

Words: 4.5k

Summary: Claude receives a letter that states someone is out there able to help him fulfill his goal of unifying Fodlan and Almyra. Signed, “The Witch.” Of course he doesn’t trust this, but curiosity killed the cat, and so he sets out to find her and see what kind of help she can offer. It turns out, this witch carries more secrets than anyone Claude knows can carry and he, gentleman that he is, gladly lands her a hand.

Notes: A commission for @iam-miscellaneous

the fault in our stars

A twig snapped somewhere behind him and Claude whirled, an arrow nocked and ready, but it was just a little squirrel staring at him with big, round eyes. He raised an eyebrow, and it scurried off into the forest and disappeared.

Claude relaxed. The forest was quiet again since most of its residents had fallen into a deep slumber from which they shouldn’t wake up until Lone Moon. But Claude had read about dangerous creatures that didn’t fear the harsh Syopyr Taiga of the Galatea region, and stalked through the snow to hunt their prey. He’d much prefer not ending up inside the stomach of a moonbear or red wolf, thank you very much.

He should have brought Ákos with him. His wyvern was big and he would surely draw attention—literally the wyvern in a porcelain shop, but Claude would be save from any beast trying to have him as a snack. Also, Ákos was warm. Warm and with his white skin perfectly blending in between the snow covered pine trees that stood vigil like the statues of the four Saints in the monastery. But it would be hard for Ákos to move freely, so Claude relished in the comfort to know he was but a whistle away and would barrel down and crash through the woods to save him.

Were it not for the letter, Claude wouldn’t even be here in the first place.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the letter before him, its existence ever-present inside the pocket of his trousers as if it emitted heat, burning against his thigh.

I can aid you in your goal, wrote the mysterious person calling herself The Witch.

What goal specifically? Overthrowing Edgard? Unifying Fódlan and his mother land? Striking down the borders of discrimination and bigotry so people would finally stop slaughtering each other over the colour of their skin or what god they choose to worship? So many questions, and Claude hated any of them remaining unanswered. But for that, he had to find the witch’s cottage first and he’d been wandering through these woods for hours.

The Everglow stone certainly did keep his fingers from freezing in this relentless cold, but he knew he’d reach his limit soon and would have to return to base. He knew this time, Lorenz and Hilda would not allow him to leave so easily.

They’d been wary of it the moment the unknown owl had landed on Ákos’ head, carrying a letter addressed to “the Prince of a far away land.” Claude’s blood had run cold.

“Prince of a far away land?” Hilda had squinted at the paper spread out in front of them on the war table they kept outside under an open tent. “Who is that supposed to be?”

“And the things she offers, this ‘Witch,’” Lorenz had agreed sceptically, and thus luckily not noticed the quick glance Hilda stole Claude’s way. He’d always known Hilda knew more than she let people on, and Claude had given her one of his rare, tired smiles. She’d made a very serious, very un-Hilda like face, and turned back to the letter.

“I think I should check it out,” Claude had said, and their reaction was understandable, if a little too dramatic for his taste.

“If you die chasing this witch, could you die knowing you leave the Alliance in someone else’s hands?" Lorenz had said. That was very unusual for him. It had taken them five years to get there, and Claude wouldn’t just throw away that trust.

“What if she turns you into a frog?” Hilda had asked. That was very usual for her, and Claude was thankful for her effort to ease the mood after all the losses they’d suffered in the Battle at Gronder Field.

“Then you guys better start looking for a princess right about now,” he’d replied, his tone breezy when inside he’d been a storm. The only princess he knew had charged into the role of Emperor and would surely make frog leg soup out of him, and the only prince he’d known laid skewered without even a proper burial on a vast field that drank itself sick from all the blood spilt on it.

Things did not look good for the Alliance. As Claude had filed every advantage and disadvantage seeking out this mysterious person in alphabetical order, he looked at the owl that had delivered the message. Its black eyes were fixed on him expectantly, as though he should be well aware of what it sought as reward, but Claude didn’t know of course, and a second later, its sharp beak split open the skin at the back of his hand, drawing blood. It ruffled its feathers and took off to the sky, hooting in offence.

“Let’s hope you’ll start off better with this witch than her familiar,” Lorenz had commented, leaving Claude to tend to his wound. He’d hissed a curse, pressed his mouth against the wound and levelled a disbelieving look at his animal companion. Usually Àkos was no friend of man or animal. He barely tolerated Claude’s closest companions to saddle or care for him, but he’d allowed an unfamiliar owl to use his head as a seat, and peck at his friend and master.

Claude still pondered about that even after a week’s worth of travelling through the Alliance territory to reach the north of Faerghus. He didn’t like being short of options, but with the hand dealt to him by Fate, he could really use an ace up his sleeve.

The witch could have been more specific about her location though.

Come to the Okhotsk Forest and you will find me.

Well, that was a lie. He’d been out here for hours now, and still there is no sign of her, or her hut, or anyone living out here for that matter.

Claude would be mad furious if this turned out to be one of Hilda’s jokes. Though he doubted even she would go this far, especially during a time like this. War changed people. She wasn’t the giddy girl anymore, batting her eyelashes to let other people do her work. And yet he remembered this one time when his grandfather Oswald had celebrated the Leicester Alliance Founding Day and Hilda had written him a secret note to meet him, pretending to be his first crush. He’d been waiting in the cold until servants found him with a fever the next morning. But instead of getting angry, Claude was really impressed by Hilda’s lie and persuasion, and decided to have her as a friend rather than an enemy.

Claude shivered. Pegasus Moon was drawing its end. He could smell it in the crisp air—the time of new beginnings dawned. An opportunity for new plans, new schemes, and he wouldn’t be Claude von Riegan if he would pass up on them. That was, if he found his hopefully new ally. And just in that moment, he turned his head and caught sight of something dark in the corner of his eyes.

A hut.

Out of nowhere, a little hut stood in the middle of the clearing, looking as if it had been there since the beginning of dawn. It blinked into existence where seconds ago the forest ground stood empty. Claude blinked, thinking out of desperation he’d imagined it. But no matter which way he turned his head, what angle he leaned into, the hut didn’t magically disappear like the Fata Morgana he’d encountered during their trip around the Sreng Desert, where instead of finding one of the lost Saint’s weapons, they had stumbled upon an ancient, sentient beast.

Claude shook at the memory, feeling his mouth go dry just thinking about the scorching heat. Even days after their return to Derdriu, he’d found sand in places it wasn’t supposed to be.

Luckily, the forest was the complete opposite. It was eerily quiet. No birds heralded the spring, no foxes scurried through the underbrush in search for smaller prey. Among the blinding white of the freshly fallen snow that clung to everything, the black stoned hut with its small, red chimney looked like a picture out of a fairy book. Claude grimly remembered stories Dimitri had told him in front of the fireplace in one of the monastery’s big common rooms about a witch living in the deepest forests of Faerghus called baba yaga. Her house stood on chicken feet and she snatched away little children who went astray or lost their way through the forest.

But this was real. Claude had finally found her.

Approaching the hut carefully, his fingers danced across the hilt of the short sword attached to the belt around his hip. He wasn’t a fan, but since early days, Nader had taught him the way of the sword.

“You won’t always have the luck to find a bow,” he’d said after knocking little Claude to the ground for the fifth time in a single sparring session. Claude had endured without complaining, but he’d also made up his mind that day that the sharpest weapon on him would always be his mind.

Claude braced himself. Having finally reached what he’d been venturing to for the last weeks was wind in his sails, propelling him forward and lifting his hope. He knocked against the wood with his knuckles, once, twice. A third time.

Nothing.

Off to a good start.

“Hello?” he called through the door. His fingers itched to the letter as he wondered if he was supposed to say a secret code word. But he’d read the letter over a dozen times, analysed everything from the way she dotted her i's and crossed her t’s to how she constructed every sentence.

No secret password. No secret behavioural code. Nothing.

Claude decided to go for the doorknob. But when his hand hovered inches away from it, it turned by itself and the door creaked open. Claude shuddered. Inside, everything was dark. Heavy vermilion curtains didn’t allow any sunlight to stray inside. A minty scent lied in the air, not unpleasant, as if someone had recently taken a hot bath and thus steam still lingered in the air. He cautiously entered the hut, eyes straining to see any kind of movement. Everything was still.

Fabric rustled—no, not fabric. In one corner stood a perch, and on it sat the owl, regarding Claude with its black eyes. They stared each other down for a moment, in which Claude wondered if it had been the witch all along, playing with him. But the owl just regarded him sleepily, then turned around and chose to ignore his presence.

Claude allowed himself to relax a little. From outside, the hut looked small, barely the size of his bedroom at the monastery. But inside was enough space to hold multiple work stations and contain additional rooms to the east and west. One wall was completely lined with bookcases tall enough to reach the roof, neatly stacked with leather-bound books. When he looked closely, he could see gold letters shining off their spines. In front of if stood a large table that was buried under dozen maps, showing star constellations he’d never seen before. To his other side crinkled the fire place. A black kettle hung above it, and he could hear water boiling.

Claude approached the shelves standing beside the fireplace, filled with all kinds of different objects in containers and glass bottles. Glowing flowers, insects with rainbow coloured wings, sharp claws and large teeth swimming in murky liquid. He realised only then that he’d been expecting dead animals lying around with their abdomens wide open and jars filled with organs. But this place looked cosy. Like someone actually lived here instead of using it as a crazy laboratory.

“I see this place is to your liking?” sounded a voice from his right. Claude jerked back from the jar he was observing. He hadn’t even heard a door opening behind him.

She’d just appeared like a dream. Claude’s first thought was, She is very small, and for a moment he feared to meet with a child because he’d turned down the wrong path and missed his designated location completely. But then she opened the curtains with a flick of her wrist. Claude, blinded by the sudden light, flinched. He’d seen sorcerers and the like at the academy, had seen Marianne and Lysithea work their spells and yet he knew this girl in front of him was unlike any spellcaster he’d ever met.

Not girl, he realised as she stepped into the light, and he found her gaze linger on him. Those were no eyes of a young girl. For a brief second, Byleth’s face flashed in front of his eyes. Claude missed her. He did not look forward to face her once they’d reach the Imperial capital. If she didn’t come to him first.

“It is certainly … unique,” Claude said, moving back to the centre of the room with his back to the door. He didn’t like to be cornered, and though he guessed his chances weren’t bad facing an opponent a whole head smaller than him, he didn’t want to challenge Lady Luck. She didn’t appear to be very fond of him lately anyway.

“Shall we talk business then?” he quickly followed on, watching her move to the fire place. Taking the kettle, she poured steaming water in two prepared cups. He immediately recognised the smell, Almyran Pine Needles, his favourite tea. If there really was a spy among them, he’d have to find them quickly. Or she really was a witch and had insight in many things which meant he needed her on his side before Edelgard found her.

The Witch gestured to two heavy armchairs sitting in front of the fire and after a moment of hesitation, Claude crossed the room and sank in the cushions. Only then did he realise how exhausted he was from wading through knee-high snow. He took the cup from the witch’s small hands, but didn’t drink yet even though his body couldn’t wait to warm up quickly after the freezing temperatures outside. Besides, sometimes it was more about the company of a warm beverage. And he wanted to make sure she drank first to see if it was poisoned.

The witch took her first sip without hesitation, then looked at him daringly as if she knew exactly what he was waiting for. Claude didn’t trust her. But if she really would aid him, then he wouldn’t pass on that offer.

Bottoms up then. Tasting the nostalgic flavour, Claude immediately relaxed. There was the right amount of sweetness too, meaning she’d put in the right amount of sugar.

“Who are you?” Claude asked finally, the question burning on the tip of his month since he left Derdriu. The Witch took another sip. Her gaze roamed over his features, calculating yet at the same time somewhat caressing.

“A friend,” she answered, “who only wishes to see you win the war.”

Claude took that in for a second, allowing the tea to warm him from the inside. “I think I’d remember if I had someone peculiar like a witch as friend. And what exactly makes you think I need help?” he asked. “As far as I know, the Alliance is holding up pretty well.”

He had to test how much she knew. If there really was a spy, they had to find and eliminate them quickly.

The Witch placed her porcelain cup aside, and leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, she looked like a mother about to scold her child.

“The Alliance is a powder keg about to explode,” she said calmly, yet with a voice that didn’t appreciate Claude trying to deceive her. “You can’t find a way to convince Lord Gloucester to join your forces and usually a nation divided does not win wars. Especially not against an opponent like the Emperor.”

Claude leaned back in his armchair, dragging his tongue over his lower lip, his mouth suddenly dry. Straight to the point, just how he liked it. “It doesn’t stop with getting old Gloucester to unite with House Riegan,” he said. “We need food, weapons. A new base of operation somewhere more central to send out our forces. Unfortunately, I doubt The Enlightened One will let us stay anywhere close to the Garreg Mach monastery.”

Something flashed in the Witch’s eyes when he mentioned Byleth. She pursed her lips, reminding him of Judith whenever she received a particularly unpleasant information.

“I see,” she said after a moment. “Your old teacher leads the Black Eagle Strike Force. That does make things more difficult.”

Claude leaned back in his armchair and stretched his legs, crossing them at the ankles. Interesting how she knew about the Alliance’s status but not that his old professor was on the enemies’ side. “Difficult how?”

“Let me deal with that once the time comes,” the Witch said. Claude wasn’t happy. He knew trust was a little too much, too quick given they knew each other for about five minutes. But she could give him a little more to work with here.

“Pardon me, but so far you haven’t really convinced me to accept your help, little witch.” He had to test the waters, see how far he could go in before the current dragged him under. The witch didn’t even blink at this nickname.

She mirrored his movement and locked her fingers in her lap. “Let’s just say my knowledge about certain things would aid you greatly in winning this war.”

“What things, pray tell.”

“Your plan to fend off the Imperial forces stationed in Daphnel. You won’t be able to occupy it for a long time before the Imperial army takes it back. You wonder if those knights and soldiers are better off stationed in Goneril to guard your supply shipments coming from Almyra, but you can’t say if your people would prefer to see an assertive ruler adamant on fighting the Empire or a generous ruler who cares more about protecting and nourishing his people.”

Once she finished, only the crackling fire made conversation with the burning wood. Claude didn’t avert his eyes from her piercing gaze, and she didn’t shy away when he cocked his head to the side, a grin slowly spreading on his face.

“So you do know a few things about me,” he said, and now he was the one mirroring her movement, leaning in closely. “But if you know about what keeps me awake at night, what do you know about my enemies?”

“Enough to end this war,” the Witch said, her eyes blazing with resolve, “if you listen to me.”

Claude raised his hand and pressed his palm to his heart. “I promise, should there be method in this madness, I will lend you my ear and listen what you have to say, little witch.”

She exhaled softly. Relieved, and Claude wondered how much of that conviction she’d shown was act. But he couldn’t begin to doubt this early, for the doubt would eat away at him and just this time, he wanted to believe whoever was their benevolent maker, he’d finally nudged Claude on the right path. He’d been without hope for so long, he’d forgotten how it tasted.

Claude stood, antsy to get back to his city and scheme away and finally, finally turn this war around. “How long do you need before you can join me in Derdriu?” he asked, moving towards the door when he noticed a strange apparatus next to it, showing a circle painted in different colours and a little arrow pointing at the part that was coloured a dark purple. When he turned, the Witch had followed right behind him, and Claude took a step back in surprise, his back gently pressing against the door.

She was smaller than him, yes, but her presence filled the whole room.

“I will finish a few things here, and then I will meet you there,” she said. She stretched her hand and rested in on the doorknob. Claude stepped away, allowing her to open the door, and was surprised when he saw Àkos waiting for him at the door step, liking snowflakes off his snout. When Claude raised his hand to pat him, he sneezed in his face.

Claude pulled a grimace. “Good to see you too, my friend.”

The witch followed him outside, and for the first time since their meeting, a smile had strayed on her face. She offered Àkos her hand, and before Claude could tell her to be careful of Àkos’ sharp teeth, he sniffed her fingers and gave a little confused huff before leaning in and allowing the witch to caress his smooth, leathery skin.

Now that was unusual, and maybe just a tiny bit, Claude felt betrayed. He swung on Árkos’ saddle, immediately relaxing at the familiar feeling of his wyvern’s steady, warm body. Before he took off to the skies, Claude turned to the witch and said, “You have to tell me who spies for you inside the Alliance. I might hire them as my new spy-master.” But she didn't give him a name, she didn't even smile thinking it was a joke. Her gaze was fixed to the woods stretching before them, her jaw set, and Claude knew that look. It would stare back at him in a mirror whenever he tried really hard not to cry.

“Your name,” he demanded. “I still don’t know your name.”

The Witch straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. “I will tell you once we win the war. Once we win, I will tell you everything.”

* * *

Claude tried to wipe the exhaustion away with his sleeve, but closing his eyes for even a second ran the risk of him dozing off. There was still so much to prepare for their defence of Derdriu. He had to block off the city, occupy the naval port and lead the reinforcements to each city gate leading to the heart of the capital. There was no moment to rest.

Fresh air. He needed cold, fresh air to clear his mind and wake him up.

Outside, knights and soldiers on night duty greeted him. They had nothing unusual to report, everything was calm. No movement from the enemy so far. Somehow, that didn’t reassure Claude at all, though he couldn’t say if he’d rather want the opposite.

His feet carried him to the outskirts of their camp, and there it was—standing out from all the other tents was The Witch's tent, its leather roof mirroring the constellations of the starry sky. Judging from the light inside, she was still awake, probably pondering about the upcoming battle just as he was. Claude crossed the clearing and opened the front flaps only enough for his voice to come through.

“It’s Claude. May I enter?” he asked. Something rustled. As if paper was quickly wiped away. A moment later, her voice called back to him, “Please come in.”

He ducked and entered her tent. Again, it was much larger on the inside than it appeared from the outside, yet just like her cottage, it was still simple. Instead of expensive, luxurious furniture, she decided to fill every nook and cranny with her magical apparatus’ and ingredients.

The Witch stood in front of a cherry wood table, wearing a simple, dark gown. From the way she tried to appear taller and held her hands behind her back, Claude knew immediately she was hiding something. He thought back to the sound of paper being quickly gathered and tried his shot.

“Writing to your lover?” he teased, settling in an armchair without waiting for an invitation.

The Witch blew back a black lock that stubbornly clung to her forehead. She crossed the room, and within a blink, the papers in her hands vanished. Claude gave an impressed whistle.

“He is more than that,” she said without any hesitation. “But are we lovers? No.”

“And how does one become become friends with a witch?” he asked, his curiosity piqued. She sat in the empty seat beside him, not bothering in the slightest about her posture. Claude liked seeing her relax around him. For the past few days, she’d been all over the camp, tending to the wounded or helping magic battalions with their spells.

He was surprised how easy it was to work with her. She effortlessly followed his train of thought and anticipated questions or knew exactly were to probe whenever he wasn’t certain about something and hoped no one else would notice. But she always noticed, as if she inherently knew his faults and weaknesses and therefore watched his back. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume this wasn’t their first time working together.

“I call everyone friend who offers me toffees,” the Witch said now, taking off her boots. Even though she’d been outside the whole day, there was no speck of mud on them, whereas Claude’s boots wore a mud crust he wasn’t proud of.

“Toffee.” Claude playfully stroked his chin. “I think I can supply some.”

“I would be so ever grateful.” She gave one of her rare smiles, growing slowly like the moon slipping slowly beneath the waves of a lake. Whenever Claude was capable of making her smile, pride bloomed in his chest.

He didn't know what it was about the Witch that made all the tight and careful knots inside his chest uncurl. Maybe that was what people meant when they said someone made them feel undone.

“How do you feel about our stand here?” he asked. “Do you think we’re prepared for Edelgard arrival?”

Immediately, she tensed, and Claude regretted bringing it up. They talked about tactics so much every day, they should be spared of it inside their tents, the only place of comfort and peace, but it seemed Claude had forgotten how to do small talk.

But the Witch just shifted her weight a little. “I don’t like lying to you, but the truth isn’t pretty.”

“I still want to hear it.” He needed to know their chances of winning. The truth might not be pretty, but more than that, he didn’t want to be lied to. He couldn’t say why, but especially from her, he didn’t want to hear a lie.

They held each other’s gazes, and Claude was impressed again by how black her eyes were. Darker than a starless night, he couldn’t see where the pupil ended and the iris began. Yet there was kindness in her eyes. Kindness and experience that told stories older than she appeared to be. But with no time to dwell on his theory, he tucked it away in a safe corner where he’d access it later. When this was all over and he’d have enough time to listen to her story.

After a moment, the Witch spoke, “I wish your success wasn’t depending on anybody else. I have prepared you to all my capabilities, but...”

“But we can’t say for sure what Edgard will do.” Of course they couldn’t. No one of them could read thoughts or look into the future. Claude was usually all for unpredictable variables to keep his mind reeling and working, but even facing Edelgard gave him more headaches then he asked for.

“No matter the outcome, I can promise that your city and its people will be save,” the Witch said. They’d been working together for a couple weeks now, but Claude had learnt early on that she kept her promises and it was nice to lean on someone for a change.

“That’s all that matters to me,” he confessed. “I don’t care what happens to me. But I cannot let down my people. The Alliance. Its future. It’s all that matters.” Because how else would he begin his peace-mongering without his Leicester Alliance unifying with his Kingdom of Almyra.

A dark shadow settled on the Witch’s face. Her eyes roamed over his face, taking in his features as if she wanted to commemorate them. Claude had to fight the urge to fidget, to flee from her keen gaze.

“The nation will learn how to move on when you are no more,” she said quietly. “But what about those you leave behind. Do you not care about your friends and comrades?”

“I care about what becomes of them after the Emperor captures my city and they are no more masters of their own fate.” Claude didn’t want to think about such a future. It would make him turn mad if he did.

“I know you think everyone has the might to forge their own paths. That fate is not absolute. But there are some fates you cannot change. You can only bow to them. Believe me. I’ve seen it many times. Too many times.” The Witch immediately clamped her mouth shut and turned her head away as if that would undo the words she just spoke. Claude hesitated. He wasn’t equipped to handle her surprising honesty. Honesty meant being vulnerable, and he’d never seen her like this. Sometimes it was easier to handle battalions and war generals than raw emotions, and Claude was thankful for the distraction fluttering it.

The Witch’s owl, that had been sitting on its trusty perch, flew through the tent and settled on the Witch’s shoulder, nuzzling it’s soft head against her cheek. The Witch smiled and scratched its chin. In return, the owl hooted and then proceeded to give Claude an accusatory glare as if he’d been the very reason for its mistress’ distress.

“Your little friend doesn’t like me at all,” Claude observed a second time since making acquaintance with with her feathery companion. “It’s like I offended him in some way.”

“She,” the Witch said mildly, “is fond of you. In her own way.”

Claude doubted that. “An unusual way to show her fondness of people. Pecking at them. Must your secret friend also endure this bullying or is he spared of it?”

“She treats everyone equally,” the Witch answered, and now he could see amusement crinkle in her eyes like the flying sparks of a fire. “My friend is no exception.”

“And is he a wizard like you? Or like us common folk?”

“He is,” the Witch began tentatively, “a just, young boy who heard the sound of flowing water in a world of sand and thus began to believe in hope. And this belief is a strong weapon, but the strongest weapon on him is his sharp wit and gilded mind.”

“Sounds like you hold him in high esteem.”

“I would burn cities and dethrone kings just to see his greatest wish fulfilled,” the Witch said, her gaze burning holes in Claude’s eyes. Something hot whipped through him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Jealousy. Hot-white jealousy burnt inside him to have a friend this dedicated to him. Maybe that was what books spoke of when they told stories about soulmates, and right now, his soul longed for a relationship like that. To be understood and accepted without having to give anything in return.

He took a deep breath, and banished those thoughts where they didn’t hurt. “Your friend sounds like someone I could become friends with.”

“Yes,” she said, turning her eyes away from his. “You two are quite similar.”

Claude wanted to know what it would take to meet him. To sit alone with him and have a chance at hearing all the Witch’s secrets, unravel them one by one and learn more about her. But she did tell him she’d explain everything after he won the war, and Claude held onto that promise like a drowning man.

After he wished her good night and left her tent, Claude remembered Nader had told him a story once. Claude, barely seven years old, had strayed into the desert bordering a small port city in Almyra where his mother loved to take him on vacation. After hours upon hours in the scorching heat, when he’d already made peace with the thought that the wide sea of sand would be his burial, he’d stumbled upon a small oasis. To this day, he remembered the sound of rushing water from the small waterfall and diving into the cool depths until he finally was found by Almyran soldiers looking for him. He’d never told this story anyone. Now he stopped, turned around and nearly ran back to the Witch’s tent only to be stopped when horns blared through the night’s quiet, waking up the whole city.

The Emperor had arrived.

* * *

Smoke rose to the grey sky that looked as if at any moment, the clouds would open to lament and cry. When she descend the cobblestone streets, her head a melody of pain and anguish, no one stopped her. No one could stop her because no one could see her as she hurried through tight alleys and corners, her spell making her invisible to the untrained eye.

The port stood abandoned. Now that it was occupied, there was no reason to guard it, and the Imperial troops had moved on to the centre of Derdriu where the important buildings stood. The embassy with its golden roofs, the Leicester mansion with its hundreds rooms and the famous Round Table.

But she didn’t care about silent stone monuments that would live to see another thousand years. She only cared for the one person who could have held it all together.

The Witch found Claude von Riegan lying on his stomach, his face drained in his own blood. The gaping wound in his chest still bled, a horrible hole left by none other than the nasty bone shards of Aymr. His eyes were still open but unfocused, staring ahead at the darkening sky.

Her stomach churned. No matter how often she saw him like this, it never got easier. The Witch sunk to her knees, and gently cradling Claude’s body into her arms, she whispered, “Forgive me, old friend. I was unable to save you yet again.”

There was no answer. As always, silence was her only companion, and grief her only caretaker. She teleported herself and Claude’s body outside the capital city where she looked for a secluded space outside the city, and using her own hands, she dug a grave deep into the earth. He deserved to be buried in his home land, the place he loved more than anything, but there was no time. There was never enough time.

She finished when the sun hung low on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of red and pink. One moment, she stood in front of the mound, and one single blink later, she walked through the front door of her cottage. Exhaustion bled her dry when the door closed behind her, and with a slow twist of her wrist, she turned the doorknob. A click sounded next to her, and for a second, everything turned black.

When light returned, everything was the same, and yet everything had changed.

On her way to the bathroom, she put water to boil in a black kettle hanging above the fireplace, and laid out a nice porcelain set of cups and Almyran Pine Needle tea for her guest.

The bath was already ready for her. She shed her dirty, ragged robes, and lowered herself in the hot water, feeling it immediately sooth her hurting limbs. As always, it took some time to clean the blood and dirt under her fingernails from digging Claude’s grave. She scrubbed herself raw until nothing was left of the previous world, and stepped outside the bath like a new born child. When she dried herself, she heard three sharp knocks at the door, and a voice calling out. Willing her new, clean robes to come and dress unto her with a flick of her wrist, the Witch took a last, long look at herself in the mirror.

Thirty tries. None of them had succeeded, and she was becoming so very tired of it all. With every try to save her friend, she’s learnt new things about the worlds and dimensions, and yet none had been enough in the end. She knew that chances to succeed were higher whenever Byeth was leading the Alliance. In some rare cases, in little pocket dimensions that would immediately dissipate when she tried to set foot in, the remaining Kingdom forces had joined the Alliance and victory would lay at the tip of her fingers. So close, and still unreachable.

But she would never cease her fight against the world that wanted to see her dear friend suffer and fail. Even if that meant bending rules, and changing to something that wasn’t human. She would make death bow to her, and once he was her servant, she would put her dear friend free of his curse of never-accomplishing happiness.

The witch squared her shoulders, and swallowed these thoughts and her still-fresh grief deep down where they didn’t hurt anymore. When the door quietly swung open, and she saw Claude von Riegan inspecting her shelf of ingredients, she said, “I see this place is to your liking?”

#philliamwrites #ao3 #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #claude von riegan #fe3h claude #fe3h claude von riegan #fire emblem three houses claude #fire emblem three houses claude von riegan #fe3h original character #platonic friendship #dimension travelling #sort of au

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shortredselfships · 3 years

Text

Is That a Threat?

Warning: There is implied child abuse, hints of violence, and suicidal/negative thoughts/ideation so if it ain't your thing, don't read it!

Nothing seemed to be going right for Mehra and if she were back home, there is no doubt her parents or her employer would call her something harsh. Maybe hit her for being so clumsy and stupid. And she would have deserved it.

First she had overslept, leaving Nader- no Nardel (she still thinks it's a stupid name and people are just biding their time, there is no way in hell they are this stupid, Claude-)- to handle inventory reports given by houses Ordelia, Edmund, Daphnel, Albrecht and a few others she couldn't think of at the moment. In being late to do that, she would have to make it up to him. Not only that, but Nebula missed out on his lunch and bonding time with her since she was unable to get him enough time in the forests to hunt because that's when the Immortal Corps did flight runs and they don't need a hungry white wyvern distracting them. Fortunately, Claude handled that, according to Nardel.

To make matters worse, she tripped grabbing materials for the next Alliance roundtable, getting some very precious books scuffed in the process.

Useless girl like you is better off dead, she could hear someone say. At twenty-one years old, this level of forgetfulness was simply unacceptable, especially with the war going on. One misstep and the Empire could be knocking on their door any minute.

The whole point of her leaving Almyra to help Claude was so that he wouldn't be so stressed doing it all on his own, not make his job worse.

"Maera?" Nardel's voice cut through the angry tide her thoughts had become, and she held the now slightly damaged books closer to her chest. "Master Claude wants to see you."

"Oh. Did he say why?"

"No idea. I can take those-"

"No, no, let me. You've done enough for me for today." Nardel gave her a look of concern before going on to continue with his day.

Claude was hidden beneath stacks of books, making her wonder if her hunch was wrong. "Claude?"

"Yes?" Oh. There was a tone to that. He's probably in a very bad mood. "Maera?" His head looked small peeking out from all the work and if she didn't think he was angry with her, she'd laugh at the imagery. Talk about being buried under paperwork. "I see Nardel managed to find you. And you got those books I asked for?"

"Mhmm."

"Just put them on that end table to your left." He doesn't sound as irritated as when she first stepped in the office, but it was common for authority to mask their irritation long enough for their target to get close. Claude may be one of her best friends, but he was still her former house leader, now her duke and prince. If he wanted to punish her for any little misstep, he was well within his right to do so, crest or no crest. "And can you make sure the door is locked?"

He's going to hurt me. He's going to beat me senseless for all my blunders today and toss me out by my hair, then beat me again when he sees the state those books are in. Where is my dagger? No wait-

"Earth to Maera?" Maera didn't mean to jump like she did, nor flinch, but she did, and now she has another thing to envision her beating herself for. Claude's expression softened. "Is everything ok? You've been acting weird all day."

"I am weird. Your point?" Whatever softness was there disappeared quickly as his gaze hardened. He didn't look like a tired, overworked twenty-one year old even if the dark circles and scruff said otherwise.

"Weird is preferring Derdriu's Mystery Seafood Boil over fried pheasant. Weird is thinking plain lip balm tastes good. Weird is brushing your teeth immediately before eating breakfast." He grips her shoulders, and it hurts. It hurts and it takes more strength not to react than it would to push him off. Not that she should or could in the rare moment he got like this. But it wasn't towards her before. "What isn't weird, is saying you deserve to die because you're having an off day!" How did he even know she was thinking that?

"Claude, I am twenty-one years old, not twelve. These are rookie mistakes and those can cost us! I don't want my forgetfulness to launch us further into a war you aren't ready for! I came to help you, not make things worse!" Now he was shaking her.

"I- Are you insane?! We've had this discussion before!" Ah yes, when he threatened to kiss her for insulting herself back during their Academy days, then making good on that threat about a year ago. "You're not expendable, you know!" She should, but she doesn't think she matters unless she is being useful. Sleeping in is to be useless. Forgetting to feed the wyvern you both are raising is to be useless.

"..." There were no words to said, but Claude's grip was starting to really hurt, and she can feel her fingers getting tingly and weak. Before she can comment, his grip loosens and he runs a hand through his hair. "Cla-Kha-..." There is so much she wants to tell him but the boulder in her throat makes it impossible to speak.

"You have got to stop thinking this way or-" Maera's sarcasm couldn't be held back anymore.

"What, you'll kiss me again?"

"No, worse: I'll marry you!" Maera stared at him in utter disbelief. If he was serious about marrying her, that seemed less like a punishment and more of a twisted reward. Unless he meant he wanted to have sex with her until those bad thoughts went away. Which still seemed more like an reward than punishment.

"That seems like an excuse to kiss me, anyway! You might as well become my boyfriend if that's the case!"

"But I don't-"

"Oh, so now you don't want to take responsibility for what you just said?" She's teasing now. "Claude von Reigan, you scoundrel." What looked to be another retort morphed into a sly smile.

"Ahh, no, you're trying to get me. I'm onto you." He does reach out and pull her into a hug. "But seriously though, please don't do that again. Teach would hate it if you didn't make it.." And many others. Maera returns the hug, but now her cheeks are tear-stained.

"I know. I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'll try to do better." After a beat, she looks up at Claude, but she can't see his face.

"Please don't make me think of a life without you in it. Please..."

#self ship #red writes #star seeker; claude #fe maera

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omgkalyppso · 3 years

Note

I can't just pick one because I'm indecisive af, so how about three for the WIP ask thing: "fairy," "wedding interrupted," and "the wind was bitter cold"? Or you can pick just one of these to elaborate on if that's too much lol

This is going to be a long ass post. Here we go!

fairy

Okay so I have an AU that I’ve promised myself not to start in earnest until either or both my soulmate au or mermaid au’s are finished. I’m calling it a fantasy au, but the doc is titled fairy because it primarily features Claude’s introduction and the make up of fantasy races for the fantasy au are as follows:

Fae - Vampire

Claude - Fairy

Hilda - Werewolf

Lorenz - Hedge Mage

Marianne - Werewolf

Ferdinand - The human child (now a man) exchanged for a fairy / changeling child

Edelgard - Human Hunter

Hubert - Human Hunter

Caspar - Human Hunter

Linhardt - Vampire

Seteth - Vampire

Rhea - Ancient Dragon

Sylvain - Human Hunter

Felix - Human Hunter

Ingrid or Mercedes - Human Hunter

Maya - Werewolf

Raphael - Werewolf

Ignatz - Werewolf

The hunters will be working in groups of three, and I can’t decide whether Sylvain + Felix + Ingrid as three of the Faerghus four is more interesting than Sylvain + Felix + Mercedes in the role of a cleric for the sake of monster hunting. I’m also undecided about whether and how to incorporate Dimitri as some wild thing that-maybe-killed-Glenn, but I feel more strongly about not including him to focus on the core plot in my outline.

Have an excerpt of blocked dialogue. Marianne is running from hunters and to keep her from being tracked, Hilda and Lorenz are destroying her shoes.

Lorenz: We do have a cobbler in town but whether they'll have something for your feet, I just don't - no!

Hilda: (coming back in the house, letting in each a white and black cat) What?

Lorenz: Hilda! Only the black cat is mine. Maggie.

Hilda: What's the big deal? (the white cat walks behind a couch or chair or something and comes out the other side as a white dove) Oh.

Lorenz: Yes. Oh. (white dove turns into a large moth, turns into tiny little fairy fey!Claude)

Claude: Wow, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to get in here. (Lorenz tries to catch him) Hey! Careful.

Lorenz: Sorry?

Claude: It's fine. (Hilda does grab him) Oh. You're fast. (but he just poofs from her hand) Not that it matters.

Hilda: I'm so sorry Lorenz.

Claude: Lorenz! I almost didn't recognize you without the sun on your skin. Why's it so dark in here? (a knock at the door)

Lorenz: (to Claude) Hide. (who does)

Hilda: Seteth, hi.

Seteth: Whatever it is you're doing in here, you're not half as subtle as you think you are. There are hunters going door to door, and if that shock of blue hair is unusual to me, it will surely stand out to them. Hide your friend more securely. They will be here within the hour. I'm off to warn Linhardt.

wedding interrupted

The final chapter of my fic Lorenz and Hilda’s Paired Ending might end up stretched out to three chapters because as it stands I’m bullying them. I intend to interrupt their wedding night three times. The first two times with accidents / incidents relating to Sylvain.

the first time lorenz and hilda are interrupted his shirts are hanging open, hilda's fully dressed, they've basically been making out. cue knock at the door hilda: (distressed) Are you going to answer that? lorenz: I told them not to disturb me except for fire, kidnapping, or a declaration of war. (buttoning up, haphazardly before answering) Yes? chief of staff: There's been a small fire in the stables. lorenz: What? chief of staff: All steeds are fine, and are being round up by [servant] on his wyvern. We're going to move them to the barns on the eastern farmstead. lorenz: Was it arson? chief of staff: It appears to be ... incompetence. lorenz: Was anyone hurt? chief of staff: Not seriously. lorenz: (holding his forehead) Who was hurt, and in what way was it not serious? chief of staff: Margrave Gautier, your grace. Although he was uninjured by the fire, he took a rather nasty tumble from the roof of the tack house. lorenz: That's two stories up. chief of staff: It is. He landed in a rather soft pile of snow however, and is being treated in his rooms. lorenz: (exasperated) What was he doing up there? Was anyone else involved? chief of staff: His ... Beg pardon. Duke Fraldarius was ... present. One can only speculate what led them there, and what stole the Margrave's pants. lorenz: Ah. Well handled. (a pause) He's fine? chief of staff: He's fine. lorenz: Then I will deal with this on the morrow. Thank you for telling me. chief of staff: (as like a goodbye) Your Grace.

A break for you.

another knock at the door, lorenz is undressed, hilda is still fully dressed. things were Busy hilda: Don't answer that! lorenz: (desperate, plaintive) Your family is under my roof, I need to appear responsible. hilda: Bring up my family again and see how far that gets you. lorenz puts on a housecoat, goes to speak with his staff. i didn't bother blocking out this dialogue though it would likely be included lorenz: Hilda, I'm headed off for a few minutes. (starts pulling on pants at the least - not his dress pants) hilda: What? Why? lorenz: Your brother might be holding Sylvain hostage. hilda: What? Goddess, let me- lorenz: Please don't. hilda: But I could easily be fully dressed much faster. lorenz: Exactly. I'm obligated to go, and if people see me in a housecoat and you fully dressed, then they will know far more about our bedroom than I could ever stomach. (calling to her from the door) Don't undress. hilda: (calling back, while lorenz has the door open) I'm letting my hair down! (i ... can't not deal with lorenz who's been obsessed with marriage for at least eight years not wanting hilda to fuck him in her wedding dress) felix: I'm so sorry, your grace. lorenz: It isn't your fault, as far as I know, and, outside of public forums, you may call me Lorenz - we have enough years together. servant: He's still in there, my lord. chief of staff: (correcting) Your grace. lorenz: It's fine. Holst? Are you in there? holst: Lorenz? They fetched you over this? lorenz: Sylvain... Are you alright? Holst, they're calling this a kidnapping. holst: What? sylvain: I'm okay. lorenz: Can someone please open the door? holst: Ah! Right! felix: (relieved, going to sylvain's bedside) Sylvain ... lorenz: (slamming the door, keeping his staff on the opposite side) Are you all out of your minds? You can't even behave for four hours? sylvain: (apologetic, pleading) Lorenz. lorenz: (angry)I swear Sylvain, you have tested my patience three times tonight. (more annoyed and kinda sad than angry) And two of these moments have pulled me from my marital bed. sylvain: Shit. (gets elbowed in the head by felix) Fuck. lorenz: (about to lose his shit) Stop this, nonsense! sylvain: I'm sorry. holst: You have my apologies as well. lorenz: (rolling his eyes) I'll offer my forgiveness in the morning, assuming you refrain from any further tomfoolery. holst: Of course. sylvain: I won't be moving. lorenz: Alright. (a sigh) I am curious to know what happened here, but I fear Hilda will bar the door if I take much longer. felix: Thank you. lorenz: You are welcome. Your grace. felix: Felix. lorenz: Felix.

Another break

((much?) later) lorenz: Now where were we? hilda: Lorenz if someone knocks on this door while you're inside me you better not fucking answer it. lorenz: I ... hilda: If you answer it, you can sleep in the hallway. lorenz: I won't answer it Hilda. I'm all yours. (they fuck, and like, catch their breath and whatever) hilda: Mmmm, well now I'm undressing. lorenz: Good. Because I need to feel your body now. Let me help you. when they're both actually naked. we'll get the third knock on the door hilda: Lorenz, I swear to Seiros. lorenz: I ... I'm not inside you. (goes to get his housecoat) hilda: You cursed us! lorenz: I know, my dear. (opening the door) Please don't tell me someone's declared war. chief of staff: (amused, kind of mocking) No, your grace. lorenz: Then what (internally: the fuck) is so important that it couldn't wait?

The wind was bitter cold

This is a skyrim-adjacent fic featuring my oc Oretia and esaari’s Philip. It’s meant to be a werewolf fight and confession. The title of the wip is just the first line in the document because I was lazy and knew I’d remember what it was:

The wind was bitter cold. Layers in Winterhold were key to survival, and when someone of irregular size, taller, fatter, continuously growing children, were in need of a new one, Oretia found herself as busy as if she’d been hunting to feed the masses. This was to say nothing of the leather straps and parcels that found use in fishing and construction. She found it difficult to believe that the city had been so small and conservative before her arrival so as to ration away the whole winter.

Oretia wondered what resources the Jarl had at their fingertips, if the people did complain beyond her business of an inability to weather the cold and their hardships. For the moment, at least, she found purpose in being out in the woods, despite Philip’s warnings of full moons and things in the forest.

She’d had to hold back her laughter and embarrassment, and had resolved to tell her sister to be more subtle in the southern mountains, as stories like werewolves were infecting the city below.

The moon was full, and high already, though the sun had yet to set — brightening the fallen snow to a rich golden color, as well as the shaggy coat of an unexpected guest.

Oretia stared at the injured beast with reverence and surprise, and she had to wonder if it were they that had unnerved the local populace. A great elk, albino, but for the splash of blood staining its side, trailing down a shattered leg, hobbled north towards the cliffs and the sea. The creature was magnificent, beautiful and strange to look upon, covered in the fog of its own heavy breaths, and whether it had seen her, seemed resolute in its undoubtedly final act.

This was not how Oretia had intended to spend her evening. No matter what other ‘things’ there were in the forest, wolves and mountain lions and all manner of predators would pose a very real danger if they should find her. Yet as the elk lay down by the cliffside, it felt too much like a gift, from which deity or daedra she couldn’t be sure, but there was no walking away from such a calling.

The elk’s massive chest heaved with each pained cry, its haunting song echoing off the cliffside in a melodic death rattle. As Oretia approached, she could hear horkers bay on the shore below, terrified by the commotion, scattering into the sea. A predator may have heard the call already, but she was too close now, caught in the sad gaze of a large doomed eye, and it became a matter of pride and honor. Oretia readied her blade.

#my writing #idk what else i want to tag this #long post

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