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. )

[fishingforcompliments]

[Flayn has a million questions, which almost makes it harder to ask them. Where does she even begin to start?

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.]

[deerdriu]

(Wistfully,)

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.)

[fishingforcompliments]

[Oof, indeed.

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...?]

[deerdriu]

(Luckily, it might be her magical strength that saves her in Almyra. Almyra isn't known for their mages or sorcerers. Archery, swordsmanship, axes, horsemen, and wyvern riders. Those have always been Almyra's strengths and while they had their own forms of magic, Claude is confident that she'll be able to prove herself with her own magic mastery.)

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.)

[fishingforcompliments]

[The way Fódlan has always been, huh?

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?]

[deerdriu]

(Kindness didn't matter in this version of Fodlan. It didn't matter in Almyra either. Kindness isn't strength and kindness isn't legitimacy.

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.)

[fishingforcompliments]

...well, the truth is, not much.

[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.

[deerdriu]

(That gets a short laugh from him. He's only encountered a few people who could honestly say they didn't wonder about him.)

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.

[fishingforcompliments]

[It does sound romantic. It sounds like the sort of thing she might read in one of the books that Seteth took such pains to keep out of the monastery library, really. There is very little that people won't do when they're in love - or, at least, that's the impression Flayn is under.

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.

[deerdriu]

...

(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.)

[fishingforcompliments]

[It would be nice to live in a world where all of that wasn't true, Flayn thinks. Where people could just be people, regardless of the circumstances of their birth. Where they could be measured on what they did with their lives, and where what they could do wasn't limited by where they came from or what family they were born to.

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.

[deerdriu]

Some might say it's worth it.

(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.

[fishingforcompliments]

...we shall see.

[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.]

[deerdriu]

You can say that again.

(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.)

[fishingforcompliments]

[It's fascinating, really.

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?]

[deerdriu]

...

(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?

[fishingforcompliments]

[Flayn returns his I'm fine with a look that makes it rather clear she doesn't believe him. You know who else told her he was fine? Her father, last night, while he was suffering from wounds that would probably kill him if left untreated. There's a reason she didn't get any sleep last night.

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.]

[deerdriu]

(He settles down next to her, perhaps a little heavier than he would have liked. Injuries aside, he is, actually, quite tired from traveling all morning. After eating, he'll probably rest against Badira or under a low tree or some place comfortable.)

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.)