Damsel With Distress

A gentle yawn as Clarine rose from bed, her hair as neat as the month before. “Hm.” Clarine sat upright for a moment, trying to think. There was something wrong with this lovely picture. Certainly this room was fit for a noble like herself, but why did it feel—

Oh. Right. She was supposed to be dead.

She stroked her cheek. I need some tea before I can ponder this further... Just as she thought of it, there was a cup of tea on her nightstand. How did that get there...? Clarine took it in her hands and sipped— she normally avoided eating or drinking in bed just to avoid the mess, but this time she just did not care. She savored the taste of her tea— how did they manage to get such an Etrurian specialty here? Intriguing...

She could recall it all, now. Well, most of it. Some things were still a bit hazy, like the faces of those who fought in the war alongside her... minus some people. Like Lady Maribelle, who she worried wasn’t happy with her, or Lord Hector, who had just been making her warm up to him... She hoped that they were okay. Sadness gripped Clarine for a moment before she tried to think positively. She were in heaven, yes?... No, whatever deity stuck her here restored her life, she remembered that... Did it make that teacup appear, too? It was still hot... But a deity making a lady like her fight in such a gruesome war...

“Hmph.” Clarine turned her nose up as she put the (empty) teacup back on her nightstand and got out of bed. “I hope that you at least kept my hat- oh!” There it was— sitting on a nice coat rack. She quickly grabbed it and put it on— good as new! “And my clothes that you allowed to get ruined? They’d best be in this dresser!” Clarine turned a little smug as she opened the drawers, seeing that her wish was once more granted. She put on her clothes once more— hardly appropriate beachwear, but she wanted to be comfortable for a moment. She admired herself in a mirror, before sadness gripped her once more.

“...I don’t suppose you could bring my family to me as well. I know Klein didn’t go to the Monastery, but my mother and father... If you truly wish for my forgiveness, then I ask of you... let me see my mother and father... I miss them.”

amenomakakoyumi:

It was trying something, that much was certain to Takumi. However, he underestimates the attack’s range— it’s whipping too quickly for him to get a decent read on it. He resigns to the fact that he was to get hit by this, but he had to at least minimize the damage somehow. In a fit of desperation spurred by Xander’s warning, he attempted to leap backwards as far as he could, still keeping his eye on the sword…

AOE Roll: 4 (Takumi’s HP: 5/15)

“Dammit!” Takumi cursed the second he felt the cursed blade’s edges rip into him, sending him flying backwards. He tumbled for a little while before landing on his feet, steadying himself with his bow. “Like that’s going to take me out…!” Takumi spat out, getting to his feet. “Not when we’re so damn close…!”

@ladyperemptory

Clarine had been attempting to nurse her wounds when it happened. Her healing magic was proving ineffective against such a large gash— she really had to hold still and concentrate, but it wasn’t working, it wasn’t working she had to get over there now— Xander’s words managed to snap her out of her busy behavior, and it was then that she could see Maribelle hurt—

“Lady Maribelle...!” Clarine croaked out, holding the reins with her one good arm. Though her horse hesitated, Clarine refused to let such an injury slow her down and the two charged in. They attempted to weave in and out of the attack— good, just a few more swipes and it’ll tire itself out, we have to get to Lady Maribelle now, now—

AOE Roll: 3 (Clarine’s HP: 0/15)

Unfortunately, as fate would have it for Clarine, a princess wasn’t always fated to be taken alive by the enemy and be made to sit in a tower for years until a prince would rescue her. On the battlefield, a princess would be made to fight until her dying breath.

And that’s just how Clarine’s story had to end.

TRIGGER WARNING FOR DEATH UNDER THE CUT

@braveryinblue​

amenomakakoyumi​:

Takumi gritted his teeth, watching the carnage— he was injured from the dragonfire, but he was not going to go down so easily. He held his position, waiting for an opportune moment to strike. He almost jumped in to try and get Maribelle out of the thing’s grasp, but he kept steady as she made the beast stumble— there! That was his opportunity!

“Out of my way, I’m going in!” Takumi yelled as he zipped in, brandishing his bow. This was it. He had been practicing this one— the culmination of his art of firing his bow at close range. He nocked an arrow, stepping in as time seemed to slow all around him, not yet, not yet…

Now!

Takumi’s Point-Blank Volley! Takumi’s Roll: 8 (Hit!) Damage Roll: 7, 2 (+ 1 + 1 (Clarine’s PS) = 11)

His first arrow struck true, gaining enough momentum at the start of the shot to drive itself directly into the beast. Takumi was quick enough to put on the second arrow needed for the volley, but he wasn’t dexterous enough— only the tip of the arrow got in, but it was still some damage. Though Takumi messed up a little bit of the second part— he was prepared for the third part. The inherit disadvantage of his technique— sacrificing the perk of a bow and getting attacked.

Apotheosis Husk’s Roll: 1 (Miss!)

“You’ll never hit this target!” Takumi taunted as he leapt out of the way of the beast’s attempt to swipe at him with its hellish Sword of the Creator. He went into a swift backflip to get back to position, then firmly planted his feet back on the ground in preparations for another round of attacks. “Don’t get careless just because it’s slowing down!” Takumi called out, half talking to himself along with his teammates.

@ladyperemptory​

Though she managed to get her horse to calm down, Clarine was getting unnerved by the amount of damage everyone was taking. She was used to being on healing duty, but how could they all expect her to work like this!? She took a deep breath— just calm down, Clarine, everyone will be fine, just take a deep breath and—

Wait, was that Lady Maribelle’s voice? Clarine let out a shriek of disgust at seeing that awful beast handling Lady Maribelle like that— just who did this monster think it was!? She didn’t know who Seiros or Nemesis were, but to her they were looking like a giant pile of disease-carrying rats! Nobody hurt Lady Maribelle on her watch, nobody!

“Lady Maribelle! I’m coming!” Clarine yelled as she rode to where Maribelle escaped, raising her hands to apply a dose of healing magic...

Healing Roll: 3 (Maribelle’s HP: 8/20)

Her sloppiness without a staff was still evident as she only managed to still Maribelle’s bleeding a little bit further. “Ngh- I’m deeply sorry, I haven’t gotten the hang of healing without a staff, give me a moment-”

But the Husk was not one to wait for her. With a second raise of its sword after missing Takumi, it turned its attention to Clarine and brought its sword up for a skull-shattering blow...

“Are you serious!?” Clarine yelled as the monster prepared to hit her. “Why does nobody just take their time and wait for a lady to get it right!?” Clarine brought out her lance— still a shoddy one, but one that worked decently enough. “Very well! I still don’t have this right, but I’ll pierce you through!”

Clarine’s Roll: 12 (Hit!) Damage Roll: 3 (Husk’s HP: 35/70)

Apotheosis Husk’s Roll: 10 (Hit!) Damage Roll: 7 (Clarine’s HP: 3/15)

Another thing that was lacking was Clarine’s ability to dodge— she had mastered that one plenty, but while holding a weapon it was a completely different manner. While she stuck her lance into the side of the beast’s hand, she suffered a grievous injury as the sword clove her shoulder asunder. She let out a scream of pain, clutching her arm as she tried to stabilize her horse.

“Go! GO!” She had to ride away, to tend to this injury before her arm fell off. “Lady Maribelle, I’m sorry...!” She whined out, unable to even conduct herself in a gentle manner. It was all she could do from stopping herself from crying so much during the pain...

braveryinblue​:

No trouble, he’d said, but Hector knew her Type, and they weren’t the sort to take no for an answer. If anything, the mere pitch of her voice reminded him uncomfortably of a certain needy cleric back home, and it was enough to set the hair at the nape of his neck on end. He waved aside Goneril’s dismissal with a shake of his head and a small, resigned smile - he seemed like a good guy, it wouldn’t do to let him get walked all over.

Hector had to admit though, the guy did kind of have a point. “Distressed or not…” No excuse for bein’ a brat. And besides that… Brows lifted, he levelled his stony gaze on Clarine. “Strange, ain’t it? I see no ‘lady’ here. Just a child pitching a fit.”

But that wasn’t the end of it, no. He could but listen, stunned into a brief silence, before indignation burned and he’d hear no more of it.

“Now listen here, girly,” he hissed irritably. “I never asked for the title, and would gladly have left it to Uther, were it not for the small matter of his DYING and dropping the blasted responsibility IN. MY. LAP!”

And him, a father? Ridiculous. The council had been on his case, sure (coming to Garreg Mach had been a welcome reprieve from That, at the least, and even then they couldn’t help asking after it in their letters), but they could get bent. Plus, he’d tried a beard once already… Eliwood and Lyn had made fun of it so. Never again. Not even out of spite.

Whoever this false marquess of hers was…

“Who do you think you are, to make such bold accusations? Here, look.” He held out his hand, and on its, a signet ring - Ostia’s emblem on display. “Inherited from my brother.”

Poor Goneril. It had been far from Hector’s intentions of dragging him in the middle of some stupid spat, but he wasn’t about to let some lass drag his name through the mud.

He was plenty good enough at doing so on his own, thank you very much.

“Excuse me!?” Clarine’s hissy fit was not going to let up for even a moment— her lack of awareness to how awkward Goneril must have been feeling as a result of all of this nonsense was a problem. “How dare you call me but a mere child!?” Her tone wavered with that last word— she sounded like she so desperately wanted to deny that fact, but... in the end, she really was a child. Ladies did not lie, no matter how much she wanted to scream that she was not a child.

But really, that should prove right there that she was more a lady than a child!

Her irritations did nothing to stop the impenetrable force that was Hector’s fury— she could only stand her ground for so long before she started to shiver a little bit with fright and even some guilt. How could he use that against her!? Such an unfair tactic... how could she even retort when he spoke of his own brother’s death? She didn’t know how it felt to witness someone die, but she knew she had panicked every single moment it looked like her brother were to die in battle...

Clarine said nothing, only starting to hold her arms in a pompous yet still awkward manner. She did, however, look at the signet ring. That made her start going off again.

“But that...! That just... it can’t be...” Clarine blinked a few times, before shamefully looking down and playing with one of the stray long locks of her hair. “There has to be some explanation... forgery? But it’s too genuine... stolen? No, surely Lilina wouldn’t...” She devolved into whispering to herself, giving her a conversational partner that wouldn’t explode, until she noticed the notable lack of pink hair in the general vicinity—

amenomakakoyumi​:

​There it was. That beast that basically took this already exploding past and somehow made it explode even further. And yet, it also provided some order— now their goal was clear. Kill this thing, and everyone gets to go home. Now it was just the matter of actually killing the thing. If Garon was any indication of how to fight a dragon, then it was not going to be easy— but as long as he was with everyone, things should be okay. Sure, things may have almost turned ugly… but Takumi couldn’t admit that there was just a slight fondness for his team after being stuck together for so long.

Just as Takumi had been picturing Garon, however, this monster did something that Garon never did— it breathed flames that were wide enough to hit all of them! “Damn it…!” Takumi hissed as he attempted to get the hell out of the way, but it was too late—

Damage Roll: 6 (Takumi’s HP: 9/15)

“ARGH—!” Takumi yelled out as he was consumed by the intense fire, unable to even begin to get out of its range of fire. As he recovered, however, the flames that the husk breathed just lit the fires of war within Takumi’s eyes. “That’s it, you son of a bitch and a bastard! If that’s how you wanna fight, then that’s great!” Takumi drew his bow, nocking an arrow and preparing for battle. “I’m going to have fun shooting you full of holes!”

Clarine held on tightly to the reins of her horse as she stared up at the beast— it was nothing like Idunn, nothing at all... Idunn went down easily to the might of Lord Roy’s Binding Blade, but they didn’t have the Binding Blade on their side. They didn’t have anything. It was just them and this... this monster. She was quaking in her boots, even though her horse was keeping her steady. As long as she just kept everyone healthy and only retaliated when necessary, she should be fine! Yes, that was a splendid idea!

...Until the monster had other plans. “No! That isn’t fair, you should let us have a chance-!” Clarine knew what she was yelling was completely foolish, there was no reason a monster like that should hear her. Yelling just gave her a source of comfort to stop her from being paralyzed with shock, but as it turned out for her...

Damage Roll: 5 (Clarine’s HP: 10/15)

...yelling doesn’t actually help you survive dragonfire. Clarine let out a scream in synchronization with her horse’s pained whinnies as the two of them rode out of the flames. Clarine did her best to pat out the remaining flames on both her outfit and the horse’s— her outfit! Why, it was completely ruined and she had only been in Fódlan for a month! Now this was simply unacceptable!

“You will rue the day you stood against Lady Clarine of House Reglay, future Mage General of Etruria...!” Clarine said, prideful yet somewhat sheepish. “...We can’t let this beast win... we can’t!” Her voice had lost all pride, replaced with desperation.

dearmissmaribelle​:

     Maribelle would have to personally apologize to this child’s parents. Would it have lessened the crime if she mentions their daughter drank among the heroes of old? If it was Maribelle, it wouldn’t have mattered. If her boo-boo bear gets coerced into something he does not like, she’d be the first smack them with a parasol. ( The lessons in etiquette are an exception, of course. It’s for him, after all. )

     Clarine is polite enough to accept the tankard and even take a sip. The talk of horses makes her want to chime in on a more personal level, but the better part of her takes over and wonders what the relation between Riegan and Blaiddyd are. She already knows Blaiddyd has opposing views with him… but what are his thoughts of him? ❝ If its horses, I’m sure Sir Blaiddyd would make for wonderful company. He and his beautiful Macha seem like excellent partners!  ❞ A rather innocent remark, no quips or shade. It was also the truth– the detail about Macha most especially.

     Maribelle herself takes this time to propose a drink among the men, tankard raised as she looks over at Riegan curiously. ❝ And may the mercy of the gods be on our side indeed. You must be quite the religious man, Sir Riegan. To whom did you pray to, I wonder? ❞ Seiros is the Goddess worshiped in Fodlan, but what of this time?  

     At the mention of Blaiddyd, Goneril glances surreptitiously to Riegan, whose mood seems to sour slightly. He frowns into his tankard before taking another drink of it. ❝ Mmm, Blaiddyd. Yes, excellent horseman. Excellent… ❞ He mutters, though there’s something bitter about it. Goneril’s quick to clear his throat and looks like he’s about to change the subject when Maribelle asks her second question, to which Riegan reverts back to his earlier cheeriness, as if completely forgetting his passing mood. 

     ❝ Do i pray to? i don’t pray to any gods. What good are gods? ❞ He puts the tankard down heavily and flexes an arm. ❝ Man’s power is all we need. man’s power to make a difference, and to set the course of the future! ❞

     ❝ You do like to go on about how these friends of ours are divinely sent, though, ❞ Goneril offers, taking a modest sip of own drink, to which Riegan shrugs exaggeratedly. 

     ❝ Well, maybe they’ve done one good thing. Who knows. ❞  He turns back to Maribelle and Clarine with a grin. ❝ Anyway, it boosts morale if everyone thinks the gods themselves bless his highness’ cause! ❞

While Clarine was normally a bit of a chatterbox, she couldn’t help but listen in admiration to Maribelle for the better part of the conversation. Already worried about potentially souring things between them and Sir Goneril, Clarine decided to simply chime in on occasion with a laugh or a comment. And yet, at the same time, to fill the void of silence Clarine decided to keep taking an occasional sip from her tankard to try and look polite— if only because Sir Goneril and Sir Blaiddyd would not see her disgusted looks on occasion.

...

It didn’t take too long before Clarine realized she didn’t actually know what she was drinking and she suddenly felt like her stomach was going to twist inside out. A green tint came to her pale face, and her attempts at keeping it concealed were not going to work.

“Pl-Please excuse me for a moment...!” Clarine suddenly spoke out loud, getting up from her chair and rushing with a small skip in her step over to the sides of the encampment. Just a bush— any sort of bush would do as long as it were out of sight— ah, there’s one! Clarine hurried over, tears beginning to come to her eyes that she had to do such a disgusting act as a lady— and then proceeded to throw up every last sip she had taken over the course of however long that conversation went on for.

windsheedme​:

Merric spends a moment moving around in the back, rubbing his shoulder until the bleeding from the scratch mostly stops and observing the battle without getting in Xander’s and Hector’s way.

He winces when Gautier strikes and quite badly injures Clarine - good thing she has some form for defense, at least, but goddess, healers have it rough out there on the battlefields; keeping people alive, which often is just as important as the fighting itself, while usually being neither armed nor armored.

Luckily, Xander successfully strikes Gautier down and forces the knight to retreat, and Merric merely holds back a sigh as he throws some last insults their way before skulking back. Some people never change, do they.

The focus shifts to Riegan, who reminds them about his presence, though the shots fired at Xander and Hector seem to leave little more than scratches. Remaining a short distance from Clarine, Merric takes advantage of the bow knight’s focus being on the two.

O boe ze su me sei

   we tene riu - -

Fiendish Blow activates; Mage’s Bond activates

Merric hits Riegan for 7 damage; Riegan HP: 14 => 7

The wind blade strikes with a whistle ripping through the air, successfully injuring the rider and startling the horse. Riegan tries to counter, but the attempt is completely failed, as not only is he hindered by the arm injury inflicted on him by Hector, but also he is forced to fire the barely formed energy arrow prematurely to avoid falling off his terrified mount, and Merric can merely sweep it aside with a weak gust he calmly conjures.

Riegan misses; Merric HP: 14 => 14

“Come on! We’re almost there!” He shouts. And it really looks like they are; Riegan barely manages to somewhat calm down his horse, and even then, the man is heavily weakened by this point.

> @ladyperemptory

Clarine was a bit shocked at Hector's willingness to steady her horse— it was only a matter of time before she would fall off. He even offered her words of encouragement— she couldn't help but be a bit bashful as he actually did something worthy of the man she knew him as.

"Thank you..." She offered her words to Hector. "I will attempt to keep my distance..." No scathing criticisms there. She held tight to her lance if self-defense was a necessity. She also had a small look of triumph as she watched Gautier retreat— as if she made a big deal in making him retreat with her miserable training lance. But her look didn't stay for long, as she had to focus on her wounds.

Healing Roll: 5 (Clarine's HP: 12/15)

"That's better..." Clarine muttered to herself, looking alarmed as Riegan began to take advantage of how open she was. "You...!" She gritted her teeth— everyone wasn't quite there to cover her from where Riegan had ridden...

"Forgive me, Lord Hector!" Clarine yelled out as she gripped her training lance, charging in without fear. She was certainly not battle-ready, but she would be damned if she wouldn't at least try to fight Riegan. Arrow and lance both met each other, one after the other...

Riegan's Roll: 11 (+1 = 12) (Hit!) Damage Roll: 4 (Clarine's HP: 8/15)

Clarine's Roll: 17 (+1 = 18) (Hit!) Damage Roll: 3 (Riegan's HP: 4/20)

"Such insolence...!" Clarine continued to bleed and even whine a little bit, but she took pride as she managed to continue fearlessly riding and jab the small tip of her lance into Riegan. She steadily took the reins as she rode out of Riegan's firing path. "Finish him off! There is absolutely no room for error!"

windsheedme​:

Merric has been quietly praying to wake up from this nightmare ever since it began, but never more than now. He hasn’t read much about Fodlan’s history, but he sure does not remember hearing about this happening.

Still, no time to think about that now. He watches Hector and Gautier exchange blows, and when the marquis calls to arms, Merric takes a deeper breath and steels his resolve. No choice but to force their way through, he thinks as his eyes meet the ice cold of the red haired knight’s glare.

“I knew it. I had a feeling Gloucester would be right about you rats”, he growls.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Merric’s words may sound somewhat nonchalant, but his tone and expression are serious, his jade-colored irises lighting up with a bleak glow. “If you didn’t choose to protect a monster, we would not be having this conversation.”

He looks behind him, as Clarine’s presence fills him with an additional small burst of energy. He whispers a short incantation as a blade of wind follows the command of his outstretched hand–

Fiendish Blow activates; Mage’s Bond activates; Gautier reduces damage by 1

Merric hits Gautier for 4 damage; Gautier HP: 12 => 8

The knight wastes no time charging at the Mage, which results in the blow not being overly clean, but it does strike Gautier, making him stagger before he attempts to attack. Thanks to that, Merric almost manages to get out of the way.

Gautier hits Merric for 1 damage; Merric HP: 15 => 14

The Mage jumps back to temporarily retreat, wincing briefly at his torn left sleeve and the blood on it. The wound is not big or serious, and he’s right-handed, so it shouldn’t hinder him too much, but he should still be careful.

>  @ladyperemptory

Clarine had no idea what she was doing on the battlefield again. She had thought she put this awful past of constantly fighting behind her... but if it was to get home to Mother and Father, even if it were teaming up with a man like Hector, then she would do what she had to do. At least Lord Xander was a presence of admiration to be around.

She did what she did best— fall back and heal. She was on the case immediately, watching Hector get swiped in the side. She was on it immediately.

"Hmph! You must be grateful that I'm here!" Clarine bossily exclaims as she shakingly attempted a bout of healing magic— her first time without a staff...

Healing Roll: 3 (Hector’s HP: 14/15)

"Hold still, I'm not quite finished..." Clarine muttered as she got ready to try again, her first casting a bit off, until Gautier whipped around and charged after her. A little shriek as she pulled on the reins of her horse to try and get away, but there was no escaping that cursed lance— her stomach curdled at the thought of being stabbed by such a gruesome looking object. She valiantly took her own lance in hand— she had never fought with weaponry before, but she had watched Sir Lance enough to have an idea.

Clarine's Roll: 7 (Hit!) Damage Roll: 3 (-1) = 2 (Gautier’s HP: 6/20)

"You pest! How dare you try and attack a lady when she hasn't attacked you!?" Clarine had the advantage of speed over Gautier's armor, and managed to scrape the wooden training lance into a small chink in his armor. She looked quite proud of herself. "Hah! And to think you got hit by someone who has had no prior lance training-"

Gautier's Roll: 7 (Hit!) Damage Roll: 8 (Clarine’s HP: 7/15)

Clarine had only a few seconds to be mouthy before the Lance of Ruin entered her belly, and the truth of her mental image faded away. She was about as useful as a little girl wielding a stick against a high ranking general with the finest quality weaponry... which was exactly what was going on. Barely clutching the reins of her horse as she escaped all hunched over, blood starting to leak onto her clothes, Clarine whined. "You monster...! Brutally attacking a defenseless lady like that...! Lord Xander...!" Clarine continued to whine even further to Xander as he prepared his assault.

dearmissmaribelle​:

     ❝ Splendid. ❞ She dons a sincere smile, grateful of the lack of complaints and stubbornness. At a glance, she seemed like an exemplary woman of her age! Perhaps she need only work at her temper? Regardless, to correct one’s demeanor can wait. For now, she approaches the two by the campfire, a practiced smile already painted on her face.

     ❝ Good evening, gentlemen. Enjoying your liquor? ❞ She gives them both a small smile and a curtsy, her eyes lingering on the spot beside the already influenced Riegan but grows cautious of the more alert Goneril. She needed to be smart about this. ❝ Do you have room for two ladies to join your merry party? I do not believe we’ve yet the pleasure of meeting your acquaintance. ❞

     Unlike with Blaiddyd, she does not forget to introduce herself first this time around. ❝ My name is Maribelle. I look forward to working alongside you to the best of my abilities. ❞

     Both men eagerly invite you over to join them by the fireside, Riegan a bit more boisterously with happy exclamations of ❝ Ah, our newfound allies, gods-sent to claim us our triumphant victory! yes, come, come!❞ 

     Riegan offers ( or rather, shoves at ) both Maribelle and Clarine tankards of their own alcohol, whereas Goneril moves over to make room for you both to sit. Goneril also asks whether Clarine managed to find a horse to make herself more comfortable as she had been looking for the other day.

    If not for Vaike’s influence, this would have been completely distasteful for Maribelle. Being acquainted with the brute had its perks. She takes the tankard for herself, but looks over at Clarine with concern. You don’t have to. Then, she turns to the two men. ❝ How gracious of you. Thank you kindly. ❞

Clarine followed Maribelle, trying not to be too nervous remembering her disastrous first encounter with Sir Goneril. She kept herself quiet as Maribelle spoke, but did give a small curtsy and a smile to help her presence look more welcoming. When invited, Clarine wanted to sigh out of relief, but managed to hold it in.

As she sat down, she was extremely intimidated by the tankard of alcohol. Couldn't they tell that she was only sixteen and not fit for alcoholic consumption!? Even then, she was prepared to drink wine out of a little glass like a proper noblewoman, not guzzle a gallon of poison in one gulp like some kind of savage!

And yet, Maribelle's gaze calmed Clarine down. A small blush surfaced, but she did take the tankard. "Thank you," She said politely, taking just a little sip. Maybe that would be— oh Elimine it was awful and she could already picture her mother and father's looks of disappointment. But she wouldn't make herself look rude after her first bout of rudeness...! She managed to suppress her wince behind the large tankard and put it down with a smile.

braveryinblue​:

Hector sat sharpening the blade of his newly acquired axe, the sound of whetstone against metal mingling with the noises of others going about their own battle preparations. It was cathartic, in a way - the familiarity of the action and surroundings despite being so far from home grounded him, gave him room to breathe a little. He’d no love for war despite his hunger for any chance to test his mettle, but this… all of this, that came before… the anticipation, the charge in the air…

He breathed it all in and sighed as he carefully wiped his blade down.

Here in the eye of the storm, the marquis could almost pretend it were a normal day, one spent tagging along with a company out to skirmish with the local bandits. Same old, same old.

In fact, it was same old to the point where a nagging cleric was apparently become part of the deal, too. Brows furrowing in disdain, Hector glanced up at the tiny thing with the grating voice. She’d been around with them, hadn’t she? Quiet, but there. Not much help, if memory served, but not much of a nuisance either–

until Now, that was.

He’d been meaning to chat with this Goneril fellow, and now seemed as good a time as any. Were he lucky, might be he’d save the man - and himself - a deal of misery.

Approaching the two, Hector placed a brief hand on Clarine’s shoulder (maybe a tad tighter of a squeeze than need be), beckoning her attention. “That’s enough of that, girl. You’re making a racket and drawing attention.” Not all of the soldiers here trusted them, and that was fine. But might be that at the least attempting a good impression would better serve them down the road.

“It’s not like any of us asked to be here. You’re making us out to be spoiled brats, and I’d much prefer if you didn’t. If you’re set on finding yourself a pony, the stable’s that way.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “Feel free to run along.”

… Wait a minute. Had she said ‘Reglay’…? Nah, probably his ears had been playing tricks on him. He turned to the Elite and held up his axe.

“Goneril, right? The name’s Hector, of Ostia. Sorry to… interrupt your very important conversation here, but I was hoping you could tell us more about these weapons we found on the battlefield.”

He wasn’t sorry at all.

"EEP!" Clarine's reaction to Hector putting his hand on her was immediate. She wasn't able to break free of it immediately due to Hector's naturally strong grip, but she fussed enough that she eventually got out of it. How rude could one man be!? Here she was, having a fine enough conversation with a decent man and this brute comes in...! And before she could even begin to formulate a response to this man, her cheeks bulging as she began to quiver with pent-up fury...

goneril seems to patiently listen to clarine's outburst, though he also seems a little caught off guard and at a loss of what to do or say. he seems relieved when hector cuts in, though he gives a warm laugh and shakes his head. "no no, she wasn't giving me any trouble. in her place, i'm sure there would be plenty of people who'd be distressed." he nods at the introduction, then. "of ostia. hmm, i hadn't expected so many of you to be nobility." he glances to clarine, then back to hector, seeming to wonder something to himself, before coming back to hector's question. "weapons? of course. i can tell you anything you need to know. at least, that i know. did you find something curious?"

Clarine was just seconds from exploding, but then calmed down. She still wanted to tear Hector apart— wait. Hector? Hold on. He said Ostia, right? Didn't he? Goneril definitely said Ostia— hold on one second!

Clarine gave a pompous laugh— one that came off more as annoying than anything. "Just who do you think you are?" Clarine spoke, the cobwebs around her throat finally coming loose. "Firstly, to put your hands on a lady like that! Especially when she's in the middle of a conversation! Secondly, to act in the place of nobility!" Clarine turned to Goneril with a slight bow. "I'm terribly sorry, Sir Goneril. This man is not worth your time— I know Marquess Hector of Ostia and he is not this man! The true Marquess Hector is actually a kind and gentle man, and an absolutely doting father as well!” He is also dead, but this man has probably heard too much of death. Best leave that part out, even if it just confirms for a fact that this is not Marquess Hector.

lethalbeautyofetruria​:

The new professor sat in her office humming softly, she currently was wrapping up a few reports that she needed to finish. Louise knew that this was the best time to do paperwork because this is when most of the students should be in class. She disliked doing paperwork but eventually, it had to get done and may as well as get it over with. Louise checks through her notes and finishes the report, she then stands up and stretches for a bit.

Louise sits back down and checks her calendar to see what would be coming up and when she should schedule her next teaching seminars. She also heard that a new student arrived, they were in the black eagle’s house. She wonders if she would get a chance to meet them and if the new student had an interest in archery. 

When she hears the door knock her eyebrows furrow in confusion students should be in class currently, did she lose track of time? She checks the time it seems not her back turned away from the door, however she recognizes the voice. Clarine? No way she is currently at camp what would she be doing here?

 When Louise hears the student introduce herself she abruptly turns around then gasps, it really was her. How did she get here? Louise busts out into a fit of giggles, and she realized Clarine must not now she was here as well, she missed her so much. 

She drops the papers then quickly stands up rushing over to her daughter. She pulls her into a tight hug and kisses Clarine’s forehead.  “Clarine! Sweetheart, how did you get here? I sent a letter to your camp saying I was heading to Fodlan. I missed you so much.” 

When the woman who dared to share a name and appearance with her mother turned around, Clarine had to admit that the woman did look stunningly beautiful much like a member of her family would. But... no, surely there were too many differences in appearance...

While Clarine had been assessing this woman, the professor actually burst into giggles. "H-Hey! There's nothing funny about this...!" And then the confusion happened— her words came out as a mere whimper of what they should have been as immediately she was hugged and kissed. Revulsion came, but then a soft touch of familiarity. That... That was exactly how Mother kissed her. Her expression suddenly softened, now having a closer look...

Never in her life did Clarine have to bottle up this much emotion. Ever since she had woken up excitedly to her first day of class, she instead woke up in this hellscape without her beautifully young mother and father in sight. Instead, she was surrounded by a bunch of strangers that she didn't know other than they might have been from Garreg Mach. And what a tragedy that was! Being in a place without people that knew her was... scary.

For the time being, she worked silently— as little as she possibly could while still helping, as a lady should not have to do such heavy lifting like some of the others would. For the most part, she just stayed in the background not talking. It wasn't until the first week had ended that she had gotten utterly tired of this awful, awful place.

With everyone in Garreg Mach off doing possibly more grunt work and labor, Clarine opted to find the nearest person that she could find. If they were truly a thousand years in the past as that boorish poseur Takumi said (was he truly a prince? How disappointing.) then surely these primitive soldiers wouldn't mind allowing a lady to speak her mind. And yet she could not deny that the first man she found had quite the style for a soldier— she had not seen such beautiful pink hair in a while!

"You there!" Clarine spoke, her voice almost hoarse from the lack of exercise it had been getting the past week. She almost felt like crying at how terrible her own lovely voice sounded. "I did not ask to be put in a warzone like this and I was hoping that you would be willing to point me in the nearest direction of some sort of transport home away from this horrible bloodbath. You can see that I am a lady unfit for such a gruesome battlefield, yes?" Even though this war wasn't her first, she had enough war for a lifetime when it came to Bern. Being a prisoner took a lot out of you, especially when your prince ran off the second he could!

Clarine watched as the pink-haired man with an axe that could rival Armads itself turned to her with an alarmed expression and looked around— it seemed he was checking to see if no one was around, was this where he would punish her for daring to speak out of turn?

"E-excuse me? Er... Ah... Is it a horse you're looking for, miss? We have plenty of those. Stuck on this battlefield right now though, I'm afraid."

No— he spoke quite gently, actually. She couldn't even continue to be angry, just pouty. "That is unfortunate... A horse ride might be nice, though, I haven't had a chance to ride a horse in a whole week... You know, I was on a battlefield like this, but I was just supposed to tend to others' wounds! And I was good at doing just that! But to be in the midst of war once more, it's simply awful! A lady of the esteemed House Reglay like myself shouldn't have to...!" She continues whining. "But it's so nice that even on the battlefield that a gentleman like yourself is still willing to help a lady in need..." Oh dear, she's gonna probably keep talking the poor Elite's head off, it doesn’t even seem like she’s giving him a chance to speak.