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Imperial Year 1185 ➳ Flayn
(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.)
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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. )
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Since it will be a smooth journey, they don't really have much to do but talk along the way - so she probably can just ask whatever comes to mind. They're hardly likely to run out of time to answer whatever questions she thinks of over a three-day journey. But as she tries to pick one to start with, her head swims. Focusing is hard.
Maybe she should rest, but she doesn't want to sleep. She'll have to eventually, but she's not sure she can bear it, right now.]
...surely they are not expecting you to bring someone else along with you.
[After all, she and Seteth hadn't exactly been planning to encounter Claude in Holst's territory. It had just happened that way. He's always tended to keep his own counsel and make his own plans, and to account for various surprises in them - but could he have accounted for this? It doesn't seem likely to her.
Then again, she had never once considered that he would have some sort of connection like this, either. Perhaps she should have. Maybe she could have, if she'd paid better attention and been a little nosier in her academy days. Claude and his background had been intriguing, but considering that she'd wanted her own privacy respected, she hadn't pried too much.]
Will it cause any problems when they see that you are not alone? Is... there anything I can do to make it a little easier?
[If she has an idea of what to expect, she can spend these next three days preparing herself for it.]
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They'll be surprised to see you.
(He was supposed to arrive alone. There had been a plan just in case he decided to bring someone with him but that Flayn was never the option.
(Nader had made a comment about it. He'd posed as his retainer for a while but had commented Claude should have chosen a better cover for him. The boy clearly didn't need a retainer when he had... someone else who was always by his side.
(He really never expected her to die for him.)))
Don't worry about it. (He insists. She has enough to worry about.) Just look out for yourself.
(Which he feels like he should explain, especially if she'll be staying... for awhile.)
Strength is everything here. No doubt, you'll have to prove it. We'll have to prove it. (Especially when they're returning home after losing a battle. Oof.) They don't take too kindly to outsiders here... it's a lot like Fodlan in that sense.
But you won't be the only one.
(He'll be there. His mother, too.)
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Strength is everything, he says, but Flayn is well aware of her own shortcomings as far as physical strength is concerned. She can hold her own well enough when it comes to magic, but what she excels at is healing those who have been hurt, not inflicting that sort of harm herself. It's why Seteth always wanted her kept well out of battles, whenever possible.
(If she'd listened to him, would things be different now? Would he have pulled back from the battle he was hurt in sooner, if he'd known she was waiting for him off the battlefield?)
She takes a breath.]
I see.
[She's not sure how she'll prove her own strength, but she's lived long enough - surely, she can figure it out, somehow.
And if nothing else, she can use her abilities to keep Claude in good shape if he ends up having to prove his own strength, too.]
...have you always planned to come here, eventually?
[Even back in the academy days...?]
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Like I said, don't worry about it. (He speaks lightly,) It takes a lot of strength to leave everything behind. Not many could do something like that. (Even if Flayn didn't have a choice. He won't mention that though. He doesn't need to. Instead, he chooses to reframe the situation somewhat,) You've already got them beat there.
(As for her question? Well, he'd opened himself up to them so its not like he can't answer. Or rather, he could but what's the point this late in the game? The secret's out the bag more or less. There isn't much left to hide.)
... Not always. (He'd run away from home with little chance of returning at first. It hadn't taken him long to realize Fodlan wasn't for him. He could never stay in the Fodlan forever; at least, not in this current version of Fodlan.) There were times when I thought about staying.
(When he looked out at Derdriu from his window, when he saw how beautiful it looked on the sea with all of its people living so wonderfully. He'd truly come to love Fodlan in his time and he was proud of Leicester. It was times like that when he felt like he would never leave.)
But the way Fodlan is now... or rather, the way it's always been... It's no place for someone like me. No where is, to be fair.
(Even if his tone is light and airy, there's a wistfulness to it all,)
I can't say I agree with her approach but Edelgard's dream... is not far removed from my own. Because of her, I had to give up my dream in Fodlan. (He had to put his trust in her to do what he couldn't.) If I want my dream to come true, I'm needed on the other side.
(Here. In Almyra.
This also... probably suggests he's more important than one might have originally thought.
Among those that had fought in Leicester alongside the Almyran troops, there had been two prevailing rumors: Claude was either related to an important general (Nader himself?) or he had some connections to the royal family. No one really knew for sure-- only observations between Claude and Nader which seemed close. No one understood Almyran and the foreign army had spoken mostly in their own language but a few had managed to make comments in Fodlan's tongue. Something about how they were here "because of the king" but no one was completely sure if that meant the king had sent or summoned them and any attempts to get clarification became muddled in translation.)
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Flayn's expression turns a little thoughtful and a lot wistful at that. She really can't refute him, at least not about the state of the continent in general, because in all her years, she simply hasn't seen enough of Fódlan to be able to. Seteth's kept her sheltered from the world at large for safety's sake, but that means her experiences have been limited.
Still... Someone like me? Although she had joined Edelgard's class after her kidnapping, she'd liked Claude and the Golden Deer well enough. He could be mischievous and sneaky, but he was kind.
He still is kind. He's bringing her to somewhere that might be safe, even though doing so would surely make things more difficult for him. It's certainly slowed him down by at least one night - if he hadn't waited for her and Seteth to make a decision, he could be much closer to his destination already.
Shouldn't that count for more than whatever the mysteries surrounding his background do?
...if it doesn't, do things really need to change after all? More than anything, Flayn wants a peaceful world for people to live in - and she's believed, with all her heart, that such a world was what the church was working for. But from the sound of it, even before the war, there had been some within Fódlan's borders who could find no peace at all.]
I do not believe we have had the opportunity to speak about this at length before... could you tell me about your dream?
[What is it that drives him to return to Almyra?
And if Edelgard's dream really isn't so far removed from his own - will understanding it help her make peace with what's happened to her family, she wonders?
If she understands it, can she make it come true? ...is there still a way to ensure that the people she cares for can live in a peaceful world, even now?]
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It didn't matter if he was kind.
It didn't matter what words he said.
It didn't matter how many fights he won.
Everything was already set. Their minds were made up. As long as the world remained unchanged, the prejudices would be the same.
He doesn't answer right away. It's a heavy question. He's never really spoken to anyone about it before (and oh, boy, did he regret it now.). Thoughtful, he has to consider the best way to bridge the topic or if he even wants to at all, )
Most people don't. (Get to speak to him. About anything at length. In fact--) Most people would rather talk about me than with me.
(There's a heaviness to his words that betrays how easily he speaks,)
First, tell me... what have you heard about me?
(Give him an idea of where to start.)
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[Bold of Claude to assume Seteth let anyone close enough to her for gossiping to happen!
Although that isn't quite right. There have been whispers and rumors about him since he appeared at the monastery. And the truth is, Flayn has always been curious about him. Who wouldn't be curious, when someone so mysterious appears? People like solving mysteries. That's just a fact.
But it's also a fact that people keep secrets for a reason. She knows that firsthand. She lives it, every single day of her life.]
There has, of course, been some speculation about your origins, and snippets of it have reached even my ears, but...
[Flayn hesitates.]
It never felt quite right, looking into it without your knowledge. After all, my brother and I were hardly forthcoming with our own background.
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The truth is... (There's the briefest hesitation,) I'm not from Fodlan. I was born and raised here, in Almyra.
(And he lets that sit for a moment. Claude von Riegan. Duke Riegan of the former Leicester Alliance. Who would have thought, he would be Almyran? He'd attended the Officer's Academy which had been established because of threats from Almyra. He'd gone to school with Holst Goneril's sister. For five years, he'd helped protect a part of Fodlan and its people from war.
But he was the enemy all along. The other enemy. Barbaric, wild, boorish, not worthy of anyone's trust, a menace.
He knew what people thought. )
My mother is from the Alliance. A long time ago, she crossed Fodlan's Throat and came to be with my father and never looked back.
(Which explained the Crest he bore, the undeniable proof of the Fodlan blood that flowed through his veins.)
Pretty romantic, right? An Alliance noble falling in love with the enemy of her nation, who would have imagined that? (It's a popular cliche in literature. Two lovers from different stations, different nations, or different circumstances.) Not many people would do what she did-- not many people have.
When I came around... most people didn't know what to do with me. So they did what most people do when they don't understand something. Ignore it and hope it goes away.
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But it's one thing to read about it in the book, and quite another to live it.
And from what he's saying, while it might have been romantic for the two of them, the reality of it is that there's much more to consider than just the relationship between the two of them. He's lived his whole life in the shadow of his parents' relationship, and he's faced difficulty on both sides because of it.]
...that sounds so lonely.
[Her voice is very soft.]
I am sorry, Claude. I had no idea.
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(To tell the truth, he hadn't even realized it was lonely at the time. It was all he knew growing up. The feeling he felt at the time was normal and hardly worth noting. It wasn't until he came to Fodlan, met the Golden Deer, and fought with them that he'd begun to realize... his situation had become different. Realizing he was no longer alone made him realize he'd been alone before. And... this is only a realization he'd come to terms with very recently.
A realization he'd come to far too late in some cases.
Badira dips slightly, lining herself with a stream of air, spreading her speed picking up along with it. The motion is enough to snap Claude from his thoughts and he continues,)
Almyra. Fodlan. In this world, there are preconceptions. Fodlanders are weak. Almyrans are beasts. But if you asked, you would find that not many Fodlanders know any Almyrans, and most Almyrans haven't met any Fodlanders. And yet, they seem to know each other well enough to look down on the other.
We live in a world where people are defined by where they're from, the families they're born into, the burdens they inherited, the Crests they bear... Is it really living when everything is decided from the moment you're born?
(It's there that his dream begins to intersect with Edelgard's. He'd had a plan to make his drams come true and then...
He sighs.)
Leave it to a war to throw off everything.
(Edelgard really got in the way.)
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She closes her eyes and imagines it.
There's Claude, of course. And then there's Cyril, and - Dedue and Petra, as well. Duscur and Brigid aren't Almyra, but the way people spoke of them, and the difficulties they'd faced at the monastery simply for being different...
Flayn finds it somewhat hard to understand. She'd liked them all well enough, having gotten to know them.
But that's what Claude is getting at, isn't it? When you get to know people - really get to know them... you see they aren't actually all that different from you at all, at their core. What he wants is to bridge that gap, and to make a world where people aren't constrained by the circumstances of their birth.
What a beautiful dream.]
War... tends to create more problems than it solves, I believe.
[Although sometimes it's necessary, she's going to struggle to believe that this war is.]
But I am glad to hear that you have plans to achieve your dreams despite what is happening now.
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(He isn't so sure. There are things he's willing to do to achieve his dream. He would stop at nothing to make those dreams come true. But through war, though? He hadn't expected his dream to come true easily and he'd always been prepared to fight for it-- even get his hands dirty-- but war felt like too much.
Red was never his color. Edelgard on the other hand...
He's quiet. What he doesn't tell Flayn now is that his plans involve working with Edelgard. Flayn is smart though, surely she'll figure it out if she hasn't already.
Give up in Fodlan, return to Almyra, reclaim his right, and when Fodlan was ready or when Edelgard needed him... he would reach out. That time would surely come. It was why Edelgard and Byleth had let him go. He could help them in the future. )
I'm not giving up on it just because I've lost Fodlan. My dream is bigger than that and as long as I'm alive, I'll keep working toward it.
(Because he's alive. He can live another day and every day is one more day to make his dreams come true.)
I'll be back someday. I'm not finished with it yet. And if you want... you're welcome to come, too.
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[Because, he's right. She's not stupid. For him return and continue working toward his dream is going to require some degree of cooperation with Edelgard, considering how the war has turned out. And if Claude turns up with her at his side, then...
Well, she can't imagine it would turn out all that well, considering that Edelgard started a war to free Fódlan from the Church, and from people like her.
The fact that he's giving her safe passage to Almyra, and allowing her to stay there, is certainly going to make that more complicated... unless something changes in the coming years. And who's to say that it won't? But Flayn has no intention of making things more difficult for him simply because she wants to return home. It would be selfish, and his dream is going to be difficult enough to achieve already, even removing remnants of the Church from the equation.]
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(They'll have to see what the future has planned for them.
Fortunately for them, at this time of year, the days aren't too warm and up in the air, everything feels a little cooler anyway. Still, they've been flying for some time. The ground below them has begun to change from rocky mountains patched with snow and evergreen valleys to something gentler-- rolling forest steppes, mostly plains peppered with smaller forests. The land grows flatter, they pass fewer woods, the trees become shorter and more spread out. The land is becoming sparser.
They also begin to fly over their first few settlements. At first, they're small mountain villages or fortress towns, not unlike the ones that make up Goneril territory or some of the villages around Garreg Mach. They fly over one city, in particular. It's large, built along the river, and given its obviously an important location of some sort-- the capital of this particular province, in fact. There is a large palace and a grand temple of some sort in the very center. Blue seems to be the city's color-- the buildings are painted in different shades of blue and gardens built around large springs and fountains. The city is lively, in the late morning hours... and they fly right by it.
He guides Badira, following the river beyond the city and they start to make their descent. They pass by a small herding village of some sort and the locals all look up when the wyvern's shadow flies over. A group of children jump and wave Claude raises a hand in a friendly greeting. They're still too high up to make out any features but there's nothing wrong with saying hello.
They fly beyond the village and a little while longer and eventually land near the river a good distance away.
He hops down from the wyvern and inhales sharply. Hmm, he should have just climbed down. His injuries still hurt too much to be skipping around carelessly. He recovers quickly though, almost as if nothing had happened at all, and turns to help Flayn down,)
Time for a break. I don't know about you two but I'm famished.
(They left far too early in the morning to really get a real breakfast before leaving. His own presence was a secret too so it's not like they could wake up any of the cooks to make a proper meal. Badira lets out a roar. She is, indeed, hungry.)
Holst arranged some things for us to eat. What do you think? Not a bad place for a picnic, right?
(They're rest for a few hours before resuming.)
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Flayn hadn't had any idea what to expect of Almyra. Her perspective of it has been colored by the information she's been able to get within Fódlan's borders - books (certainly not written by Almyrans), the stories of soldiers who have fought against the Almyrans, Cyril's accounts of his life before Rhea...
Once they get further into the country, the scenery isn't the same as what she's used to, but it's beautiful in its own way. She watches with wide eyes, taking in all the new, unfamiliar sights and committing them to memory. The city they pass over is especially breathtaking, and she finds herself twisting a little to look back at the architecture until it vanishes from sight.
She'd like to see more of it, but - there will be time for that later. Claude's already doing more than she could ever have asked of him just by bringing her here at all; she's not going to ask for a detour.
When they start to make their descent, she brings up a hand to cover a yawn. She's exhausted from lack of sleep, but she doesn't want to rest yet. Instead, she forces herself to focus on her surroundings - the children they fly over (she waves back), the river they're landing near, and Claude himself as he hops down.
She catches that intake of breath, and then the way he recovers. When he helps her down, she's very careful not to lean on him too much.]
A picnic would be nice. Although, I am certain that you would enjoy it more if you were uninjured. [She looks up at him.] Will you allow me to do that much for you, at least?
[It's what her abilities are for, after all. What good is she, if she can't ease the pains of the people around her?]
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(So she'd noticed, huh? He must be tired to have let that slip.)
I'm fine. (He insists, his tone even and careful. One might really think he's, well, actually okay. He's a natural liar.) It's nothing a little bit of rest won't take care of.
(He's heard about Flayn's healing. She was a natural, right? She was something of a miracle worker for the Knights and their allies. Really, Claude didn't understand it completely. He'd never had much talent for magic and any power that relied on Fodlan's faith was... foreign to him in more than one sense.
... But this would be a good chance to see her skill for himself, wouldn't it? And honestly, it would be a good idea to make sure he was in his best condition before returning to those grand halls.
It's actually Badira that acts next. She spreads her wings and lets out a screechy whine. One might think she was disagreeing with her master. Or maybe she's just hungry. That's how he chooses to interpret it at least and he starts to undo one of the packs on her back. He hands Flayn a wrapped basket-- their provisions for the first day.)
Take this. It isn't too heavy for you, is it? (And he'll undo a hunter's bag next. ) I'll take care of Badira first. You go ahead and start eating.
(She really, really should rest, he thinks.)
It won't take long.
(And really, it doesn't! From the sack, he feeds Badira some rabbits which she devours quickly and he leads her over towards the river's edge so he can wash his hands and water her. She's a tame wyvern and can mostly be left alone from there so he returns to Flayn, removing his gloves and setting them down next to him.)
What did he pack us?
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But it's the fact that she didn't get any sleep last night that keeps her from arguing with him. Instead, she resolves to do it while they're flying. What's he going to do, push her off Badira's back to stop her from healing him?
...although Badira seems to have her own thoughts on the matter. It might be a coincidence, but that roar right after his denial certainly sounds like a rebuke, and it makes the corners of Flayn's lips twitch into the beginnings of a very, very faint smile. It doesn't quite reach her eyes and it doesn't linger for very long, but it's there for a brief instant.
You tell him, Badira.]
This is not too heavy. [She has to readjust her hold on it, though. It's not too heavy, but her limbs are already heavy with exhaustion, so it just takes a second. She's quick to unwrap the basket and get things set up while he's taking care of his wyvern, and by the time he returns, he should be able to just plop down and eat.
As for what Holst has for them...]
He made sure that we would eat well.
[This is their first day's provisions, so it's a little fresher than the food that they'll have to keep stored until later in their journey. There are sandwiches made from Derdriu-style fried pheasant and cheese, a red turnip salad, and a trio of sweet buns. The pastries themselves are a little clumsily made, as though they were prepared by someone who doesn't normally make sweets.
It's a little bittersweet, really. Flayn can recall seeing Hilda eat some of these dishes at the monastery, when they would end up in the dining hall together - did she like them because she would eat them with Holst, or did Holst prepare them because she liked them?
Claude might know, but it feels intrusive to ask, so she doesn't.]
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He's a good man.
(So of course he would make sure they were taken care of. It's a shame that they hadn't had many opportunities to speak to each other before. Outside of the Roundtable meetings, they'd only spoken twice: Once so he could ask Holst to meet with Nader and again at Hilda's funeral-- he chooses to count the times before, during, and after as the same meeting. They were certainly brief enough.
... It's bittersweet to think about. Even the food tastes of it because like Flayn had guessed, these had been some of Hilda's favorites.
Instead of dwelling on the past though, he focuses on the present and the future,)
So what do you think? A pretty nice flight so far, right? (From mountains to hills to plains to rural villages to a magnificent city to more villages of a different kind.) From here, it's mostly plains and desert... so not much to see.
(The uneventful leg of their journey, to be honest.)
... Any new questions so far?
(About the things they've seen. The places they're going. Over lunch is a good time to talk, he thinks, as he begins to help himself.)
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[She'd known him even less than Claude had (she only really knew him from Hilda's stories about him, before, and then the brief amount of time they'd hidden in his lands before setting out on this journey), and even she could tell that.
Flayn hopes he'll be well. He likely will be - there's no one hiding in his territory now that could pose a political problem for the Empire, so surely Edelgard has no reason to be rough with him... right? Not if he's surrendering, anyway.
She looks down at her sandwich, mulling it over. She does have questions, of course; who couldn't, after what they've seen so far?]
...the city we passed over before... what is it called? From what I could see of the buildings, the architecture seemed breathtaking.
[It had surprised her a little - she wasn't expecting to see a city like that in Almyra. Although, she probably shouldn't have expected anything. How could she have any expectations, when she has no real knowledge of the country to form them?]
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(Aspandana City in Aspandana Province. Between a bite of his sandwich, he begins to open a bottle water for them,)
It's where all of the soldiers gather before splitting off to the different fortress towns in the area. Or the place where all of the soldiers go to after finishing their rounds. ("The place where the soldiers gather" was hot it had earned its name. ) It doesn't look like a military city though, right? That's because it used to be the old capital before it moved west, away from Fodlan. It's still held onto a lot of that old prestige and wealth. A lot of the old generals retire there and end up becoming poets and gardeners, hah.
(Becoming a flourishing city at the edge of a desert, safely guarded by all of the fortresses and soldiers in the area. It was something of a haven for anyone in the border villages caught up in skirmishes and such.
It won't take them too long to finish eating!! It's not a fancy meal or anything like that and Claude stretches his arms up high and winces again. Oof, shouldn't have stretched like that. He also knows Flayn has probably seen so without really looking at her he speaks mildly,)
Still wanna check me out?
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[Flayn repeats the city's name once, committing it to memory. It sort of rolls off the tongue - there's something almost melodic about it. She smiles very, very faintly; even in a situation like this, it's nice to be able to learn something new.]
I see - the former capital. That explains the building that looked almost like a palace, then...
[She'd still sort of like to explore it, but they most certainly don't have time for that. There will be other cities, she's sure. Perhaps not right there on the riverside, but - they must be out there.
Once they finish eating, Flayn starts to clear away some of their things and gets the things they can keep packed up again; the motion of Claude's stretching catches her eye, though, and she doesn't miss the way he winces. He must realize that, because he speaks, and she nods once, decisively.]
Yes. There is no sense in continuing to make this journey with wounds, if there is something that can be done about it.
[She scoots a little closer to him, then gestures at him.]
Please allow me to see them.
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which I've now decided is his Alliance outfit.When he finally gets down to the last layer, he pulls back the blouse to reveal... a bandages wrapped around his chest and under that, a large, jagged wound. It's not nearly as bad as it was before-- he'd been tended to immediately and he's had practically a month to heal. It helps that his Crest of Riegan allows him to heal himself at times but it's mild and hardly has any control over it. The area around is darkly bruised, some places worse than others.
The Sword of the Creator had struck him across the front and the attack had been enough to bring him down from the air. He'd been healed immediately after but with how uneven the wound was and how rushed he'd been to make his escape, there's still some work to be desired. It doesn't help that it's a sensitive area, one that aches for a long time even after it's been healed. That's really the part that seems to be causing him the most discomfort. The injury is bad but nothing he can't handle on his own; it's the location that seems to be inconveniencing him the most. Sitting up, standing straight, moving his arms, turning... any movement is bound to ache. )
... How's it look?
(Nearby, the white wyvern returns from the water's edge and lingers nearby, head bowed down and wings tucked back. The battle had been difficult for her, too, and as surely as Claude feels responsible for what happened, so does she.)
I didn't really give Lysithea much of a chance...
(He'd sent her away almost as soon as she'd arrived. ... Something he regrets now that he thinks about it. Sure, she wasn't much of a healer to begin with but he'd almost immediately sent her off to meet with Edelgard and Byleth to start negotiations without him as planned. )
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It looks bad.
[The words themselves are a little blunt, but her tone of voice is more gentle and concerned than anything else. Her expression is much the same - there's still traces of exhaustion in it that can't be fully wiped out, but concern is at the forefront. It's healed well enough for the amount of time that has passed, and considering that Claude most certainly hasn't been resting as someone who was hurt so badly ought to, but still.
It makes her stone heart ache to see it. But she can do something about it, can't she? Her power exists to ease others' pain.
So, taking a breath, she gets right to work.
What this magic really does is stimulate the body's natural healing process. It encourages his skin to knit together, to smooth itself over and (hopefully) not leave too obvious a scar; it sinks under his skin, soothing the aches and pains of his bruises, lightening them up. As she works, her own Crest activates - that, hopefully, will help.
Flayn will keep at it for as long as he lets her, heedless of the fact that her exhaustion is threatening to overtake her. She ignores the way her hands tremble from time to time, and the way her vision is a little blurry at the edges. She can do this. She has to do this.
...but she only has so much magical energy; much of it was used on Seteth the night before, and she's recovered some on their journey so far, but she's not in tip-top shape. It's not perfect, but hopefully, it will be enough to ease the rest of his way back to Almyra.]
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Leaning back on the palms of his hands, he braces himself as he waits for her to get to work,)
That bad, huh?
(Of course, he knew that much already. He's lucky to be alive. It's only because Byleth and Edelgard showed him mercy in Derdriu that he was able to escape with his life.
He lets her work and allows himself a moment to rest under her care. He dislikes relying on others but he knows better than to resist a healer at work. There's an initial discomfort as the magic settles in, getting to work, bringing skin together, closing, and physically repairing itself but there's the dulling that comes from it too, cool like ice but not as harsh.
Magic really is something, he thinks. He's never had much of a talent for it. Manuela had barely managed to get a healing spell out of him at the academy and Hanneman was impressed if he could summon enough wind to turn the pages in a book. Nothing wrong with that. Magic isn't for everyone and he'd joked that he had to be bad at something when he was already so good at everything else.
He watches Flayn, noting the way her hands shake from time to time. He's seen this before. There were times when Marianne gave too much of herself to others, pushing herself too far. There were times when Lysithea, exhausted from using her spells in battle, tried to be useful after and heal the injured.
Flayn is exhausted. And like Marianne and Lysithea, she would push through it. He's the same when it comes to other things and it's for that reason, he's always let them go just a little further. Even now, he says nothing at first. He gives her a few moments and when her hands start to tremble... he reaches to take one of her hands in his own)
Thank you. ("That's enough.") I feel better... much better.
(It's the truth. Looking down at his chest, he can see the visible difference. He won't mention her exhaustion. She wouldn't like that, would she? She might even insist she's fine... and he'd rather she didn't lie.)
This should hold until we get to the Rhages.
(The first time he's mentioned the capital by name.
He gives her hand a squeeze and a gentle tug to sit by him,)
But for now, we rest. All of us.
(Badira, too. He'll let her hand go soon too so he can at least put his blouse back on. It's warm enough that he doesn't actually need the outer part coat.)
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