Imperial Year 1185 ➳ Flayn

[deerdriu]

(Derdriu fell and the burgeoning league of nobles known as the Leicester Alliance was disbanded. Annexation by the Empire had gone... surprisingly smooth, almost as if it was meant to happen. Of course, it didn't go without some problems. People are complicated, especially when morals and loyalties are involved.

Ordelia and Gloucester were the first to give in and together, the two houses led much of the transition. House Riegan was no more and Edmund easily conceded once they realized there was no point in fighting. All that remained was Goneril which had long been the strength of the Alliance. Holst Goneril was no fool. Even he could see that he was against all odds and he would have to give in. They knew this at their last Roundtable meeting, when Claude had gathered them all together for their final meeting and explained their options.

This isn't the Alliance's war. If Derdriu falls, they give in to the Empire. Resisting would destroy their lands, lead to suffering, and despair. They'd done well for five years, protecting their neutrality. They'd held their own for so long that their territories had become sanctuaries for those fleeing the war's destruction. He'd thanked Goneril for protecting their borders and Edmund for helping with the financial burden of taking in so many refugees. He'd thanked Ordelia for helping them save as many people as they could and he'd even thanked Gloucester for all of his support balancing these extra responsibilities.

Wouldn't it be a shame if all of their efforts went to waste because of something like pride? As nobles, their duties were to the people. Protect them. Evacuate Derdriu, prepare for battle, lure the Empire in deeply to avoid widespread casualty and destruction and if that isn't enough... If Derdriu falls... protect the people. Surrender. As the Alliance's leader, he would either die in battle or step down and in turn, the duty would fall on Gloucester to lead the others through what happened next.

But the empire had killed his sister. They'd killed Hilda. And Holst wasn't going to let that go easily. Gloucester and the other nobles had tried to reason with him and little by little, he'd begun to relent.

This was fine. The Empire didn't have to worry about Goneril who would inevitably give in. Edelgard wasn't a cruel Emperor nor was Byleth Eisner. They would led the Duke grieve. His lands were the furthest from the Empire and would take time to assimilate anyway. In the meantime, they would move on to crushing the Church and the Kingdom.)

Comments

[deerdriu]

(A month passes and the war goes on. Claude has not yet left Leicester. He'd lingered behind for a moment longer, making final arrangements with Lorenz to deliver to his father. Next, he'd snuck out of Derdriu at night and made his way east towards Goneril territory which is where he currently resides.

Lorenz. Marianne. Lysithea. Raphael. Alive and well.

Judith, Ignatz and Leonie. Killed at Great Bridge of Myridin. He'd told them to retreat if things got bad. He never wanted them to die.

Hilda killed in the Battle Derdriu. He hadn't expected that. Out of all of the things he'd accounted for in his plans, he'd depended on her to live. He never thought... that she would die for him.

Damn.

He'd stayed in Goneril territory for four days. Long enough to pay his respects and attend her funeral. He'd met once with Holst to give his condolences and to offer him one last bit of advice before leaving. It's at this meeting that he hears about a pair of refugees who had made it into Leicester territory, asking Duke Goneril for assistance.

Holst had been sympathetic. He'd just lost his own little sister, you know? But if he was going to give in to the Empire's demands, he couldn't keep Seteth and Flayn in his territory. Admittedly... Seteth didn't look like he would last much longer given his injuries so this was a matter of securing safety for his little sister. But he wanted to help. Holst Goneril wanted to help and Claude agreed to meet them.

The meeting was quick. There really wasn't much time to talk. If he stayed too long, someone would notice and Imperial forces would have to swoop into Goneril to remove the former Duke. And that would lead to discovering Seteth and Flayn too and that would get Holst in trouble. But Claude wasn't cruel. He was never a cruel person and he only had to look at Seteth to know his days were numbered. He gave them one night to make their decision. To stay together in Goneril and find some other alternative or for Flayn to say good bye and come with Claude to... where ever he was going.

Whatever they decide, he'll be at Fodlan's Locket and leave at dawn's first light.)

[fishingforcompliments]

[Seteth's days are most certainly numbered.

If they'd just had a little more time, maybe Flayn could do something about it. After all - what is her power for, if not bringing people back from the brink of death? He's only lasted as long as he has because she's been tending to them as he traveled; if not for her extreme aptitude for the healing arts, he'd have perished already. If there was somewhere safe for him, then she could stabilize him, and he could sleep in peace to recover, but -

There is nowhere safe in Fódlan. Not really. Even Goneril, one of the last holdouts, will be surrendering to the Empire in a matter of days. Seteth and Flayn both know that if they're found here, it will complicate matters for Holst and the people under his command, and they certainly don't want to be the reason for any further bloodshed.

Ultimately, Seteth makes the decision. His priority is and always has been Flayn's safety - over her protests, he insists that she'll be doing whatever has the highest chance for her to survive, and in this case, that means accompanying Claude. It means leaving him. Even when she pleads with him, not caring who might overhear (because what does it matter, at this point?) -

"Please, Father..."

"Do as I say."

Flayn doesn't sleep. She lingers at his bedside for as long as she can, furiously working at his wounds with healing magic, until there's no time left at all. First light fast approaches, and reluctantly, they say their goodbyes.

She makes her way to Fódlan's Locket with a downcast expression and reddened eyes, armed with two things - the Caduceus Staff, strapped to her back, and the Spear of Assal, cradled in her arms. In the distance, Claude may spot what looks like a silhouette of a wyvern with the prone form of a man secured to its back - it's winging its way northward, toward Sreng. The chances are slim that he's going to make it there alive, but they'd both known that; still, it's better than allowing him to remain here. If he can make it into the Wind Caller's territory, there is a very small chance that he might recover.

If he dies en route, at least his remains can be protected.

Someday, she'll come back. She'll search for him. But right now, as he's reminded her, her priority is survival. She has to live so that they can perhaps be reunited someday, but if he passes on out there, alone, then she has to live on for the both of them.

But she won't say where he's going. The fewer people who know, the safer he'll be, if something does happen. She doesn't think Claude will just let it slip, but you never know. She's accustomed enough to keeping secrets that one more won't kill her.]

...thank you for this.

[Her voice is small, and she sounds tired, but she knows. It's time to go.]

[deerdriu]

(Luckily for Flayn, Claude hadn't lingered around to listen. Actually, no one really tries. The air at House Goneril is grim and somber, the memory of death is fresh in the air, and the reality of war is heavy. The Goneril family, like many in the Alliance, have never been particularly loyal to the Church but they were good people and Holst was a popular and well loved Duke with loyal servants to show for it. All he had to do was give their room one pained look and everyone knew to stay away lest they be caught and scolded by him.

Claude doesn't know what to expect at the wall. He'd retired early the evening before and woke up long before the sun ever rose to make his final preparations. He shares a last conversation with Holst and Claude thinks about how bittersweet it is to finally speak to him like this. He's a good man, he thinks, and he's glad to have met and been able to work with him in the Alliance's final moments. Some day, he would return to Fodlan, and when that day came, he hoped he could march right up to Fodlan's Locket and be welcomed as an old friend instead of an old enemy and be welcomed into his motherland once again. The grieving general returned to his estate and Claude had spent his last hour looking up at the stars. It wouldn't be much longer before the sun began to rise and he wonders if anyone will come.

His wyvern is the one that notices first, raising it's head up towards the sky and letting a low, musing sound from its throat. She knows better than to roar and make too much noise in this situation. But it's enough for Claude to see what she sees. A wyvern flying in the distance... )

I only see one person. What about you, Badira? (... Nothing.) Yeah, I thought so, too.

(And sure enough, there's Flayn and he stands a little straighter, a little taller next to his ride. He doesn't mention the spear or how tired she looks. He can't imagine she slept very much.)

... Don't worry about it.

(He tries to speak lightly but his words feel heavy, like his heart. It's a difficult night for everyone, some more than others.)

I won't ask if you're ready.

(Which is really just an indirect way to ask if she's ready. It would be rhetorical Anyway. Ready or not, he can't stay. The decision isn't meant to be cruel but there really is on choice.

He holds out a hand to her.)

It won't be forever.

(The good bye? Their separation? Their self-imposed exile? He leaves the meaning open for her to read however she likes.)

[fishingforcompliments]

[There's no being ready for something like this.

There's no sticking around, either, though. It could be disastrous if either one of them was caught separately. But together, in Goneril's territory? That would be even worse. They have to go, and they have to go quickly, lest someone catch up to them before they're safe.

Flayn is well aware of all of this, but that doesn't make the parting hurt any less. She finds herself gazing north, watching the silhouette of the wyvern vanishing into the horizon, and then drops her gaze to Claude's offered hand.

She reaches out to take it as he speaks, and he'll probably feel her flinch at the word forever.]

I know.

[But that's the thing. If Seteth does die of his wounds, and she survives this, she's going to live a very, very long life without him. This wasn't what she'd had in mind when she'd decided that someday she would leave the nest.]

...we should depart. I am prepared to travel.

[She's as ready as she'll ever be.]

[deerdriu]

(She flinches. He gives her hand a squeeze, gentle but firm. In a way, this is like a handshake, isn't it?)

Then the deal is sealed.

(Even now, he can manage some sort of inside joke to himself. The way he always does when situations line up just right.)

Ladies first. (Up onto the wyvern she'll have to go. He's certain she must be familiar with how all of this works. Her brother is a skilled wyvern rider, after all. The white wyvern lowers itself, crouching lower to the ground than she usually would. She's an intelligent creature, one that recognizes that the first to climb on her back won't be her usual rider. She's also larger than some of the other wyvern in Fodlan. A slightly different breed? A regional variant? It would explain the color. Maybe. ) This is your first time meeting each other, right? Flayn, Badira. Badira, Flayn.

(A short, but friendly introduction. Once Flayn is on top, he follows, sitting behind her. Usually he'd have his companion ride behind him-- in battle, it left his front open so he could still use his bow. But they weren't flying into enemy territory and no one would dare try to shoot down a certain white wyvern from the sky. This way, if Flayn fell asleep, he wouldn't have to worry about her falling either.

Reaching around her for the reins, Badira readies for flight, going to the edge of the wall. The dawn begins to break in the east. )

See you later, Fodlan. (Farewell to the night. They kick off into the air, flying ahead and the words that come from his mouth next are a mix of something foreign and familiar to Flayn-- Almyran and Fodlanese.) Old home, here we come.

(A night of farewells and a day of greetings.)

[fishingforcompliments]

[Up onto the wyvern she goes.

She pauses to give Badira a soft, gentle pat and a greeting before she climbs up:]

Hello, Badira...

[Her coloring is certainly unusual, but Flayn is at ease around wyverns. It's a simple enough matter to get up and settled; it's not like this is the first time she's ridden a wyvern with someone. Not by far. Seteth had...

...her eyes sting with the threat of tears at that thought, and she ducks her head, taking a deep breath. She can't think about that right now. Crying isn't going to change the reality of their situations. It won't fix anything, and if she's being honest, it won't even make her feel better. It will just make her feel even more strung-out.

She's already cried enough tonight, anyway.

She turns a little to watch the scenery as they take to the air. The view of this land is breathtaking - as they get higher, she can see more and more of it. The forests, and mountains, and rivers are all beautiful. Fódlan is Fódlan, no matter who rules it; the people who live there are the same. They all deserve a chance to live. Will they have a better life under the Empire's rule, without any influence from the Church, she wonders?

She wants to commit as much of this sight to memory of possible. She'd never been able to see as much of Fódlan as she would have liked, and now she's leaving it behind.]

Farwell. [Her voice comes out in a whisper.] Stay well...

[...she can only hope the people of Fódlan will be safe. They probably will be. It's not safe for her or for Seteth, but Edelgard has no grudge against those who do not bear Crests.

They'll be fine, won't they? They have to be.]

[deerdriu]

(There sure are some interesting parallels here, aren't there? Both Seteth and Claude flee by wyvern, both flee towards deserts, and both Seteth and Flayn put their fates in the hands of two tacticians. And yet, their paths couldn't be more different.

Fodlan is Fodlan, no matter who rules it but he has no doubt that when they return next, Fodlan will be different. His dream and Edelgard's dream weren't too far removed. He'd realized that when he read her manifesto five years ago and in his heart, he regrets not being able to reach out to her. Could they have worked together? Would things have been different? Now, they'll never know. He can only trust in Edelgard now to make his dream come true in Fodlan while he returns to Almyra to claim what is his and do the same.

He's careful when he flies, keeping his arms protectively around her as he guides Badira through the night. He can't help but lean forward some, feeling his injuries from Gronder act up again when he holds himself upright too long. It's easy to play it off as just keeping Flayn secure but the truth is... it still hurts.

Rather than focus on what's being left behind and what he carries with him though, he begins to explain,)

It's a three-day journey to the city. We'll break at noon and again before dark today. (With one hand, he strokes the wyvern's scales. Like him, she's still recovering from previous battles and needs to rest during the journey.) We're in for a smooth journey so go ahead and rest.

(No one would dare try to strike them down here. Striking a white wyvern would be like daring to bring down the moon. One would have to be bold or foolish.)

When we get there... it won't be easy. I can't even promise it'll be completely safe. (Life in the palace wasn't exactly gold and roses. It was cutthroat and sneaky and unlike in Fodlan where the nobles were content to just tear one down with words and tricks, the lords and ladies of Almyra would not hesitate to use their strength against others.) But we'll live.

(He's a survivor and Flayn is too. And as long as they're alive, things will get better. Time will heal.)

... I'm sure you have questions.

(About what lies ahead. Below them, the land is still mountains and forest. It's no longer Fodlan but borders aren't neat and perfect things. The land blurs and still looks the same for now. It's almost as if they're still home and it won't be for several hours until the forests begin to shrink, the trees growing lower and more sparse, and they eventually find themselves faced with what looks like endless desert. )

[deerdriu]

(Whenever Flayn wakes up, she'll find herself in a large, cozy room. One of the nurses or maids must have changed her clothes for her because she's wearing a cotton nightgown and her usual clothes are folded neatly on an ottoman trunk at the foot of her bed. No one will come to check on her— she must have just missed their last round judging by the fresh flowers on the dresser next to her bed.

If she chooses to venture out into the corridor, she'll find that she can only be in what can be described as a palace. If she encounters a servant, they look surprised and confused when she speaks, often running off quickly in a different direction. One might try to speak but what comes out is a different language and when Flayn doesn't understand, they also run. She will eventually find someone who can speak to her— someone likely sent by one of the other servants she ran into. The person who comes will be dressed much nicer, either a guard in fine uniform or a woman in fancy clothes. They'll ask her the typical questions— is she well? Should she be up?

And then they begin to mention "Khalid." "Khalid" might be in the library or a meeting right now. If it's the latter, they'll tell him to meet her there if she waits. And she'll be sent off to the library. No one else is in the library! No else is in the library at first but if she decides to search while waiting, she'll eventually find a small section of books not written in Almyran— it's a mix of books from Duscur, Dagda, Fodlan, and so on. Interestingly, the Fodlan selection seems to be small, right on par with the others in the section and all of the books look very, very old.

Eventually, Claude will show up, wearing a set of robes.)

I heard you were awake.

(He looks surprised? But also relieved. How can someone look both at the same time.....)

[fishingforcompliments]

[Flayn's first concern, when she does open her eyes several weeks later, is not the fact that she doesn't recognize her surroundings. After all, even in the haze of grief and exhaustion from that night, she can still clearly remember agreeing to accompany Claude to his destination.

Rather, it's how much time has passed. She feels well enough - she's much more well-rested than she was before, and her injuries have healed more quickly than they have any right to; there's still a faint impression of them, but they look as though they have long since healed over. Long slumbers such as this are restorative for her kind, though, even if she herself dreads them. It's unusual, perhaps, but even back in the monastery, she'd always brushed off concerns during training with "I heal quickly".

But not knowing how much time has passed is torture. Sitting here and waiting for someone to come and explain won't do her much good, either - so she changes out of the nightgown and into her clothes, folds up the bedclothes, and ventures out. It takes some doing, and she certainly ends up with more questions than answers.

Claude finds her just as she's opened one of the books in the Fódlan section. She barely has time to register that she can actually read the script before his voice draws her attention away from it, and she looks up.]

—oh, Claude. [A pause, and then - ] Or, do you prefer Khalid?

[That's what they had called him, after all... If anyone can understand, it's her. After all, he's not the only one who's used an alias.

(Is she avoiding acknowledging her long slumber so she won't have to explain it? Maybe!)]

[deerdriu]

(He cracks a smile at that and runs a hand through his hair,)

Right... (This isn't really how he'd wanted her to find out.) Claude. Khalid. Call me whichever feels right to you. Neither is wrong.

(He is Khalid and he is Claude. The thing with pretending to be someone else for so long is that you eventually become that person. He can't just shed that part of him away and pretend those years didn't happen, not when who he was at that time had been so important.

He makes his way over and leans against one of the study tables, half sitting, half standing.)

I was going to tell you before we arrived.

(But that obviously hadn't worked out. He doesn't bring up why exactly but he does watch her. He doesn't need to say it. She knows exactly what's on his mind. But she's always been a secretive one, hasn't she? Back at the academy, she'd always dodged anyone that had gotten too close and Seteth had kept everyone away.

Well, she won't have the same protection here. He can look out for her the best he can but in Almyra, it really is everyone on their own. At least, that's all he's ever really known here. )

What happened? No one could find anything wrong. It was like you were in some sort of... deep sleep.

(Like a coma.)

[fishingforcompliments]

[...well, she can't say she doesn't understand that. She's Flayn just as much as she's Cethleann, after all.

Claude feels more right to her, but that's because it's the name she's always known him as. But what feels more right to him, she wonders? Even if neither is wrong, she can imagine that it must feel strange to be called both at once. If most people here will be calling him Khalid, then...

...well, time will tell. She can attempt to call him by his birth name, but something tells her she'll slip up often. Old habits are hard to unlearn - she knows that firsthand, too.]

I see... well, it is hardly your fault that you were not able to tell me.

[Rather, it's kind of her fault for falling asleep like that?

Although she hadn't been planning to. There was a reason why she'd tried so hard to stay awake, after all.]

I must have been more tired than I realized. [She does not yet know just how many weeks it's been since she passed out.] But I—

[Whatever she's about to say is interrupted by a very loud, very distinct growl of her stomach.

Her cheeks flush. Oops.]

[deerdriu]

(He's quiet, his expression unchanging when he hears her answer. That was definitely more than just being tired. Tired people don't sleep for weeks without ever waking. It's clear that he's thinking about her answer and that he doesn't quite buy it.

But her stomach growls and he raises a brow and cracks an amused smile,)

... Right. You're probably hungry after all this time.

(Still no mention of how long she's slept. He rights himself, standing straight,)

How about a grand tour? (Follow him. As they walk, he'll raise a hand, waving it at the library around them,) This is the library. You'll find books about everything here. History, magic, medicine, science, math, poetry, novels... and some books from other countries, too, of course. If you want questions, this place has most of the answers.

(Not all of them. And she'll have to study quite a bit to read but... they'll worry about that later.

The rest of the tour is pretty straightforward and it's less of a tour and more of an explanation of the places they pass while going in a particular direction. Eventually, they arrive in the servant's wing. There are more people here and Claudes raises his hand in greeting to some of them who stare wide-eyed and slackjawed at the two of them before carrying about their duties. They get to the kitchen and one of the cooks exclaims something at him tiredly.

"You again? I don't have anything for you here!"

"It's not for me, Halima."

Flayn can tell they're talking about her because he gestures over towards her and the cook's brows knit close together as she looks her up and down twice and begins to throw things together from the cupboards. Claude smiles and he beckons for Flayn to come over, passing her a gold tray and setting a teapot, some glass cups, and a small plate of sugar sticks both white and gold. From the pantry, he takes a few ready made sweets and the cook sets a plate of something freshly fried and tossed in syrup before kicking them out. All of the sweets go into a nice little basket! He'll instruct Flayn to carry the basket and he'll take the tray and lead her off to a place not too far away out in the garden.

Everything comes to him naturally here, like he's already settled into the rhythm of things. The way he sets the tray on the bench between them instead of on the table and pours the tea for the two of them and dips one of the sugar sticks in to sweeten it instead of using cubes or spoons like back in Fodlan. There'd been the way he'd carried himself through the palace, knowing exactly where everything was...)

They'll bring some lunch for us later. Things are a little busy right now... it's the end of new year now.

(A hint that.... she's definitely been asleep for awhile. You know, assuming they're on the same calender. Which they are.)

[fishingforcompliments]

[After all this time makes her furrow her brow, honestly; she doesn't know what he means by all this time. A matter of days? Weeks? Months? Surely it can't be years; Claude is dressed differently, but he doesn't seem to have aged dramatically enough for it to have been that long. If nothing else, that is something she can take comfort in.

Anyway, she lets out a small sigh of relief when he doesn't follow up with any questions about how she managed to sleep that long and chooses to give her a tour of the library instead. She follows after him, glancing curiously at each section as he points them out. So many things to read... once she figures out how to read Almyran, after all.]

I see. It certainly seems well-stocked!

[...and hopefully not censored like Garreg Mach's library was.

Thinking that is a little painful, though. It was only censored because Seteth was overprotective, and now he's not here to be...

She shakes her head, trying to clear the thought. She can't afford to dwell on that right now; she has to pay attention to their surroundings as Claude leads the way. And so she does, taking note of where everything they pass is in relation to the library. The sooner she learns the layout of this place, the better; she doesn't want to be dependent on people showing her the way forever. She wants to be able to get around on her own.

...she's really going to have to practice Almyran and learn to speak it quickly, though. Realizing that Claude and Halima are talking about her, but not being able to tell what they're saying, is a little maddening, although she can't imagine any of it was unkind; the way the woman begins making snacks for them immediately after looking at her just proves she's kindhearted. Flayn imagines she must look rather hungry right about now, depending on how much time has actually passed.

It's a simple enough matter to hold onto the tray until the basket is ready and Claude has taken it back; switching to the basket of sweets is even easier. She manages a smile and a soft "thank you" to Halima (although, she doesn't know if Halima can understand her) before she turns to follow Claude out to the gardens.

There's a soft intake of breath as they step out.]

It is beautiful...

[...really, she wouldn't have expected to find gardens like this in Almyra. They're certainly different from the gardens in Fódlan, in terms of the plants grown, and the layout... the little pools are new, and the furniture is certainly different. But it's both eye-catching and comfortable. There isn't a lot of space for the basket on the bench between them, what with the tray being there, so she sets it on the table and watches as he pours tea and uses a sugar stick to sweeten it.

Hmm... she tries it herself, and then takes a sip. Her expression softens into a smile.]

...this is lovely. Thank you, Claude.

[But, wait. The end of new year...?

She really can't avoid asking now, can she...]

Ah... has it really been that long?

[fishingforcompliments]

[Tomorrow is for celebrating, Claude had said - and so it is.

It's lively. So much so that it's maybe a little overwhelming to Flayn, who is still getting accustomed to being in the Almyran palace in the first place, but she gamely tries her best to observe what's going on around her and pick out the things she can understand.

It helps that, as promised, she gets checked out - and that she meets Fatima, who she can talk to, who so kindly answers questions for her when there are things she can't quite puzzle out on her own. No one can be expected to learn all there is to learn about a new, unfamiliar place in the span of a single day, after all, and though she's thirsty for the knowledge - for learning anything outside of her rather limited experiences - these things just take time.

Eventually, just before sunset finds them outside. The atmosphere is lively, and she watches with interest as people drag wood into place to make a bonfire.]

Oh, how fun...!

[She can't wait to see what they do next.]

[bowfaire]

(He starts off the day the same way he usually does; the same way he always has. He wakes up early, he meditates, he reflects, he goes over his plans for the day, his motivations, the challenges he expects to encounter, the outcomes he hopes to achieve, the way they'll fit into his plans for another day. He refocuses himself for another day and sets off.

The festivals and celebrations have made the days easier; it makes today easier, but it's easier to get ahead when everyone else is taking it easy.

He takes his breakfast just a little later by the south garden today and as expected, he runs into the minister of trade. He mentions the idea of opening a trade route with Fodlan, hinting at a promising partner in Leicester-- an ambitious margrave always ready for a good deal. Of course, now isn't the time to really talk business or official things like that when there's a festival to be had. So he leaves the minister to his breakfast with the promise to speak again in the new year.

He meets with his mother before her tea with her retainers. She looks down at his notes and plans, messily written in a mix of Fodlan and Almyran script and reminds him to relax. They discuss Flayn. Fatima will surely update Tiana when they have tea later and Claude will see her for himself when he meets with her for lunch. She casually says how they'll have to make his little friend feel at home. He thanks her truly and remarks how difficult it is to be an outsider in the palace and though he doesn't look at his mother, he can easily imagine the way her eyes soften with empathy.

Before he has lunch with Flayn, he'll speak to the guards, telling them to watch out for their guest in case she gets lost. If there's any trouble, they can find him, Tiana, any of her retainers, or even Nader himself. That last one is important. Even their general is protecting their guest.

He has lunch with Flayn. He makes sure to keep the conversation light. He promises to introduce her to his mother in the evening. He makes sure to have lunch near where the celebrations will be held and he tells her to come here later. He'll make up a half-excuse about has to go share drinks with Nader and some of the other soldiers. He really will meet with them. But after he makes sure to cross paths with one of his brothers just to remind him he's here for the fifth time this month...

And then it's finally time to meet Flayn, when the sun is still in the sky but has begun to lower. He spots her easily (and can't help but worry thinking about how much she stands out now. How much she will stand out here).)

Can't celebrate into the night without light. (Hello, he is here.) Ready?

[fishingforcompliments]

[Flayn, who is oblivious to the exact lengths Claude is going to in order to make sure she's safe, beams at him as he approaches and heads over. She's had an easy time of it so far ("so far" being the single day she's been awake), despite the unfamiliarity of her surroundings, and that's likely because anyone who would seek to treat her poorly - either because she's an outsider or because of her connection to him, or even both - is trying to figure out just how far the protection she's been afforded extends.

But that just means that - as had been the case when they'd met for lunch earlier in the day - there's absolutely no worry in her expression when she smiles at him. At least, no worry that stems from the circumstance of being in Almyra as opposed to being without Seteth.]

Yes, very much so!

[She looks more excited than anything else. This is the sort of celebration that she's never actually seen at Garreg Mach.]

I've heard a bit about what will be happening tonight, but I am sure mere words will not be able to compare to the sight of it. I cannot wait!

[bowfaire]

(He smiles,)

Good.

(It looks like her day has gone well. That's one day down and they can only take things one day at a time for now.)

It's definitely something to see for yourself. The crowd today will be smaller than the ones we've had before but as you can see... (Me waves a hand over towards the growing pile,) we're not letting that hold us back.

(This is more of a private celebration for the family and those that work at the palace. It won't have the same careless energy as the ones out in the market square but give it enough alcohol and he's sure the generals will get everyone's spirits up.

He offers his arm to her,)

Until then, we feast. There's someone I want you to meet.

(And should she take his arm, he'll guide her over towards one of the many tables that has been set up. This one already has a small crowd gathered at it and it all appears to be centered around one woman in particular. Flayn should be able to figure out who she is immediately. Her skin is fairer than the others, her hair a lighter brown, and it's clear that Claude has his mother's eyes.

The conversation seems to stop when they approach, their eyes turning towards them and she looks up with a fond smile. "Khalid." She rises, arms spread to welcome them. In Almyran, she teases,"It took you long enough.")

I was busy.

("I thought I told you to relax."

He coughs lightly, switching back to Fodlan's language,)

Mother, this is Flayn. Flayn, this is my mother... Lady Tiana.

[fishingforcompliments]

[Flayn takes his arm without thinking about it, as soon as it's offered - which is really only going to make the pair of them stand out more. She stands out enough on her own, as the sleeping girl he'd brought back - going anywhere on his arm is only going to attract the attention of people who otherwise might overlook her, but who do keep tabs on him.

But it's fine. He wouldn't have offered it if it wasn't safe to, she thinks.

It's instantly obvious who this woman is as they approach - even before they're close enough to see the eyes that are so much like Claude's. She catches his name - Khalid, the one she's heard and knows to be his but that she hasn't fully familiarized herself with yet - but not much else of their interaction.

When he swaps back to the language they share to introduce her, though, she lets go of his arm so that she can put one hand over her heart and bow. It's the bow they do in Fodlan - it's what she's most accustomed to - and she'll have to learn the proper way to greet a member of the Almyran royal family later.

For now, she manages - ]

It is an honor to meet you.

[ - in Almyran (knowing she might meet members of Claude's family, it's one of the first phrases she asked to learn), but then has to swap to the language of Fodlan a moment later so that she can continue.]

...and a pleasure to meet you, as well, Your Highness.

[...she. She hopes that's the right way to address her.

She's watching Tiana's face, but she can't help but flick her gaze toward Claude to see how he's reacting to her speaking with his mother.]

[bowfaire]

(Or maybe he offers because it isn't safe.

There doesn't appear anything wrong in Flayn's greeting. Tiana is, after all, the wife of the king and with Claude back in Almyra, she can firmly say she is also the mother of a prince. No one can doubt her position in the court now, really.

Claude's head turns slightly when he hears Flayn. He hadn't expected that. Likewise, Tiana's eyes widen just slightly with surprise, a smile forming at Flayn's greeting. Flayn bows and both can recognize it as the Fodlan bow they're familiar with. Claude raises a hand to his heart and bows at the hip. Slightly different from what Flayn would be used to.

Tiana returns the greeting in turn, "The pleasure is mine. She raises a hand to her chest and bends at her knee, demonstrating a type of curtsy. She then steps forward to place both hands on Claude's arms. He bows just slightly so she can kiss his forehead. Stepping back, she speaks to the both of them, "There's no need to be so boring and formal. It's a festival, after all. Tonight, we're among family and friends."

She shows them over to her table and Claude will escort Flayn over taking a seat beside her. There's food set out on the table already along with drinks. Tiana introduces her company-- her two retainers (one of which is Fatima) and a few friends and their children.

The group seems to settle into speaking Fodlandese mixed with Almyran easily enough, though there are some humble apologies at first. They only ever really practice with Tiana and well... she isn't exactly the most refined lady! (Tiana slaps one of them on the shoulder for the joke.)

"We were worried when you didn't wake up," One of them remarks, "But it must have been difficult leaving home so suddenly... Especially under the circumstances..."

It seems to be accepted that Flayn's sleep was attributed to shock and as the conversation begins to turn serious, Claude cuts in,)

I didn't know this was a council. This is our last evening before we return to work.

(Fatima laughs, "Some of us never stopped, Khalid." The other retainer shoves her gently. If she wanted breaks like everyone else, she should have become something besides a medic. "Or maybe all of you could stop getting hurt!" While they're distracted and the conversations begin to splinter into individual ones, Claude and Flayn can speak to each other properly again,)

... Sorry about that.

[fishingforcompliments]

[The old year ends; the new one begins.

As time goes by, Flayn sees less and less of Claude - or Khalid, as the people here call him. (She's trying hard to remember to use that name; she's just known him as Claude for so long that, well... old habits die hard.)

It's understandable, she thinks; this is his home. Not only that, but it's his court, and he's a member of the royal family - of course he has many duties to tend to. She knows she can't expect him to see him as often as she'd seen him around at Garreg Mach (although even that wasn't terribly often, given that they were in separate classes). Still, it's a little lonely.

So she keeps herself busy, too. She practices her Almyran, she acquaints herself with the others in the palace that she does see more often - servants and guards looking to practice speaking Fodlan's language, Fatima (who she has a lot of interesting conversations with regarding magic and medicine), and others in Tiana's circle who have probably been sent over from time to time to keep her company on her behest.

Today, she's decided to work on her language practice out in the gardens. It's nice out here, and she's managed to get her hands on the same book (a children's book of fables, which is a little bittersweet; she remembers Seteth making up fables to entertain her, when she was young) in both languages - she starts by reading it in Almyran, only opening up the book from Fodlan when she encounters a word or phrase she doesn't recognize.

She's concentrating very hard! She probably wouldn't notice if someone were to, say, approach from behind her. Or even in front of her, given that her eyes are on the book and not her surroundings...]

[bowfaire]

(As soon as the new year begins, he gets back to work. Without the holidays to excuse anyone from their offices and meetings, it's easier to grab certain ministers and leaders. It's not like news of Fodlan doesn't reach Almyra. Not all nations are as isolated and insular as Fodlan is. News finds its way across the kingdom and to the capital. With the change of leadership, it's only natural to wonder what this means for the kingdom and Claude is their best source right now.

He might have lost the war but he didn't leave without friends and allies. He'd been a leader in Fodlan and had considerable connections, ones that he was more than willing to share if people would just listen to him.

... And some of them do. He manages to convince some of his brothers and sisters to listen to him, some who are in positions of leadership themselves or married to people could be useful. But then there are the ones that he has no relations to. The capital is located centrally but closer to the east.

The leaders in the eastern cities and villages are further removed from Fodlan. They know less and care less for their neighbor to the west. This works in his favor. Their indifference is easier to appeal to, meaning their expectations are fewer. Of course, this means working harder, starting from the beginning, having to explain more things, and just trying to get them to care at all but he can see that he's making progress.

The leaders in the west are trickier. Closer to Fodlan and always taking the brunt of Fodlan's attacks, they're apprehensive at best and disdainful at worst. Some of the leaders refuse to negotiate and would rather advocate attacking Fodlan while it is vulnerable and weak. They won't, of course; at least, not outright; not without the king's permission. So instead, they speak against Claude, become his greatest critics, and refuse to give him much time at all.

This is fine. He's no stranger to challenge. He can work with this. He just has to come up with the right scheme...

All of this is to say he's been busy and while he's tried to check in on Flayn, it's obvious that his time is split. When he does manage to catch a break, he's more than willing to check on her. He helps her with her Almyran, he shows her around the palace and the gardens, using the different paintings and statues and banners to explain the history and customs of his homeland. He rarely talks about what he's been doing beyond a few passing comments-- another general that is driving him insane these days, an official who feels entitled to his time because they married his sister or something along those lines. It's all boring! At least, that's how he tries to frame it when he updates her.

Today, he catches Flayn reading. He recognizes the cover and the illustrations almost instantly and he smiles to himself. Creeping over her shoulder, he speaks suddenly,)

Ah, I remember this one. I was wondering if you'd find it.

[fishingforcompliments]

Ah—?!

[Flayn drops the books.

She also, to her credit, snatches them out of the air. More specifically - she casts a very low-level wind spell to catch them for her, and then grabs them before they fall, breathing a sigh of relief as she checks them over and inspects them for damage. So far, so good - the wind formed a cushion for the covers, so it didn't blow any of the pages away.

Phew.]

My apologies! I was lost in thought...

[It's a little embarrassing to be caught out like this, but at least he caught her reading; that's respectable enough. Right now, her job is to learn and to find a place in the Almyran court. She's not shirking those duties by being here.

Although she does feel a little bad that her life so far has been more or less leisurely, while his has been busy. Although he tells her that most of his interactions with the rest of the court are boring, she knows he's working hard. How infrequently they're able to see each other is proof of that.]

It has been quite some time since I last read it. Having them side by side to compare is making it rather easy to learn! Although, I must confess I am a little worried about getting the pronunciation quite right...

[bowfaire]

(Imagine being so good at magic, it just comes to you naturally. Like, "oops, I dropped my books, better cast wind."

He lets out a laugh, loud and bright, a hand on his hip as he watches her save the books from a fate not nearly as bad as some of things he's done to them,)

Haha! Don't worry about it.

(Ah, but she's studying. She's always studying these days, he thinks and in some ways, it reminds him of himself when he was younger. He was never the strongest child in the family being on the smaller and thinner side compared to his older siblings. He'd always been one of the brighter ones, though, his nose always in a book or eyes on a map, his head always swimming with schemes and ideas.)

Yeah? Maybe I can help.

(Just going to take a seat on a wide bench, one of many laid out around the palace and the gardens for tea and leisure.)

My father used to read to me when I was younger... I'd listen and try to copy him.

(His father. That lion king of a man who can sometimes be seen and heard around the palace, always boisterous and busy, like he doesn't have time for anyone but the generals and officials speaking to him. Not unlike Claude in that sense but at least he doesn't have to chase down and corner his audiences for attention.)

[fishingforcompliments]

[Look, it's easy for magic to come naturally when you're a literal magical beast ... stuck in human form, anyway.

But what else is there for her to do but study, really? First things first is properly learning the language; she can hardly find a place for herself in the court or help him with even the smallest of his many plans if she can't understand what people are saying around her. Sure, some have been nice enough to translate for her when needed, but...

Isn't it better to be able to tell what people are saying for herself?

She takes a seat on the bench next to him after a moment, her expression curious.]

Did he? [It's a little hard to imagine - in that it's difficult to picture Malik staying still long enough to read a book, from what she saw of him at the festival and from the whispers she's heard around the court.] That is a little like how my father taught me how to read. He would recite while I looked at the pages, and...

[She hesitates. It's a little difficult to think of Seteth, even now, but it's a nice memory.]

...well, it made it quite easy to learn what symbols made which sounds.

[bowfaire]

(She hesitates. He frowns.

Ah. This really isn't the direction he expected this conversation to go but not one to let things end on a low note, he's quick to recover.)

Well, let's see. It's been a while since I've done some light reading.

(Let's go have a seat somewhere yes. He's also definitely making this sound like it's no problem for him to help. It really isn't! If anything, it's an easy way to spend his break. It's been awhile since hes' really been able to spend time with her, too, something he's sorry for. Nothing quite says "be my guest" like... leaving said guest alone for long periods of time. Yes.)

Just relax and enjoy.

(He'll read the story for her, slow and clear.)