“You can sit there and call yourself a flower that’s about to wilt all you want, but nothing you say can hide the fact that I’ve got you all figured out, oh Hilda the Battle Queen. If anything, battle seems to be where you blossom the most. That’s not to say your petals aren’t always on full display, but let’s be real here: have you ever actually listened to yourself when you’re swinging that axe?”
Pausing for but a moment, Claude followed his words up with a coy wink that was as mysterious as the realm he hailed from.
“I’m not saying I’ve heard you chant your name before, but I am saying that you should definitely do it more often. Who knows? Maybe that’s just the muse you need to get Lord Holst off your back before all of House Goneril descends upon you like moths to a flame.”
However, despite how fun and whimsical their back and forth was proving to be, both of them perhaps knew such an air could only last so long. As they stood before each other with banter to spare, there were hundreds– thousands of soldiers losing their lives in the wake of the almighty emperor’s insatiable conquest. It was hard to accept that this was the world they were living in– that these once great halls of Garreg Mach were dilapidated and stained with the blood of knights and students alike that fought and died here to defend their home– but that was simply the reality they shared.
Forever aware of this, the Leicester Alliance’s future and Almyra’s last hope looked at Hilda once again, his brows furrowed and his lips slanted with a pain caused by the weight of all resting upon his shoulders.
“You’re right that days like that really are all I really want anymore, but I guess fate herself is a mistress not too keen on letting any of us sleep with a good head on our shoulders. I’m not usually the one to sit and brood or wonder when things will get better or how things will get better, but one thing’s for certain: a no strings-attached trip is what all of us need after this long, bloody war’s finally– f i n a l l y come to an end.”
Sighing and content that his one moment of weakness for the day finally came out without much of a fuss, Claude retained his smirk once more.
“I’m not so sure why you sound so excited, though. Isn’t the kind of day where you laze around without much of a purpose the one you’re always having when you make everyone do everything for you, or has my keen eye for spotting you skipping your duties for the week finally begin to wane?”
“Geez, you didn’t have to be so blunt.”
Simply by seeing his expression shift into one of sadness, the weight of the world resting on his shoulders, did her own cheery demeanor begin to melt into one of concern and melancholy. He certainly had a point - how could she be so carefree considering what was going on just outside of the walls of the monastery? How could she even kid around when the two of them were always so quick to jab the other with observations about their respective facades?
Just another manic “take-your-pick” Moon on the yearly calendar.
She shook her head, and rested her hands in front of her - crossed, as she allowed the seriousness to take hold. A rarity, but reserved only for those closest to her - Claude being the number one.
“Well, you know as well as I do why I do this. Forget about the axe - that’s just a family thing.” She began, though a hint of playfulness still remained on the tips of her words - dancing about, such fun! She could do this all day if she wanted to. “That goes without saying, don’t you think? And hey, you can’t argue with this, can you? I do so much more than I ever did before the war started. That kind of stuff shifts your perspective.”
“At some point you have to ask yourself what you’re really doing, y’know? I mean, look at... like, anyone from our class. Once carefree school days are over, that’s it, right? You can’t really go back after that.” She concludes, looking away a moment before allowing a smile to return to her lips - small, suggestive, and as always, playful.
“You’re lucky that you can scheme all you want, but nobody’s really seeing the man underneath. But you can’t show them that, I guess, because everyone’s suffering enough as it is. I bet that’s what you’re thinking. It’s kinda the same thing with me. Sure, expectations and all that. I just can’t stand it, but that’s old news to you. You ever think of this?”
“Me being the same old Hilda is kind of like a motivator for the army. It’s a reminder of what times used to be like. I mean, not me and only me, but you get it. I don’t wanna change something tried and true. That wouldn’t be, well, me. Risk-taking is only good in fashion, and sometimes in battle. You’re really the risk-taker here. I’m the one who tells everyone that it’s gonna be okay, ‘cause I’m just Hilda, and no war is ever gonna change that. Same for all of them. It’s gonna be okay, I say, by asking others to do what I’m supposed to do.”
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