“Oh Claude, did you forget? I’m not unconquerable - I’m just a delicate flower. Step on me on the ground and I’ll just wilt! These arms of mine are as breakable as twigs, you know. Actually, you should know as well as I do that lifting that axe of mine is too much work to begin with.” Comes Hilda’s immediate reply with a shake of her head, though lips just barely hiding a small smile of amusement at his wily words. He certainly knew how to charm a girl - but sadly for him, or maybe for the onlooker amused by the whole situation, she was immune.
Impenetrable and unconquerable - at least deep down.
And she can hardly stifle a chuckle.
“If I have to fight, I have to fight. I mean, I’m not disputing that, you know.” She continues, allowing her smile to grow just enough. “It’s just the sweat that I hate, and the ache in my arms afterwards. It’s not like lifting a pile of books - I mean, we’re fighting for something, aren’t we? It’s not like we’re just lounging around the monastery like old times, buuut…”
“I take it having the right to be as lazy as me is part of your whole dream, isn’t it? In a free country, you can just lie on the grass all day, or make as many accessories as you want, or… oh! Go on as many trips with your friends as you want, no strings attached! If you put it like that, that sounds sooo much more fun.”
“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?”
