#licehn

“Can I ask you for a favor, Wolf?” he starts. “I'll be gone for a few days on the ship to Baile. I don't know if my friend Estel is coming along, but if she isn't, I want you to keep an eye on her where I can't.”

In Joachim's ideal world, the two would be going together. They would be close, just in case. It's a mixture of emotions: loneliness and distrust both. But Joachim doesn't know this guarantee anymore. Houses separate, and the paths of childhood friends feels more distant than they ever have before.

“She's a rabbit with white hair and yellow eyes. She's attending the academy, but she's not in the Blue Lions house,” he tries to describe her to the best of his abilities, but even this reveals to himself how little he knows about her daily routine compared to before. Lupine ears droop in the melancholic epiphany that overtakes him, but he presses onwards. “I... I don't want her to get caught up in trouble. She's strong, but...”

(That's what makes her dangerous?)

He hesitates here, not feeling right speaking his full mind and its concerns to Wolf even as he tries to enlist the man, Wolf being the one he feels the most up to the task of all the people he knows. Because, at the end of the day, even if he fears the worst enough to make his knuckles go white at his sides, feeling terribly powerless like this, Estel was still his best friend.

No matter what, he hates the idea of speaking a bad word about her.

“... if she gets into trouble, I want you to stop her. Please,” he decides. “But be kind to her otherwise. She's easily excitable and embarrassed... Though I don't really get what causes that sometimes.”

It's in saying this, in indulging these thoughts about happier sides to her, that gets Joachim to lighten up ever so slightly at last in his heartfelt plea.

In the back of Wolf's mind, he wonders what makes his student's words come out in such a steady flow. Is it because he thinks the answer is a given, or because he has no faith in it at all? Or is it nothing to do with Wolf entirely, and more so what it is he's asking? The fact that he's asking at all?

Mostly he wonders if Joachim knows it would be a given. It's nothing worth interrupting him over, so he answers with rapt attention and no answer at all, sharp eyes slid over a bow, string and hands drawn still. He knows about the trip to Baile -- between the ruckus of spoiled deliveries and people turning up their noses at any hint of weaponry, it's been hard to miss. If it weren't for Ephraim though, he might not have learned about the church's somewhat fraught history of... pursuits. Standing here now, connecting the two, the horseman wonders for the first time if he should have tried harder to earn a spot on the ship.

None of this he says aloud, keeping the silence when Joachim makes it, allowing him to be the one that breaks it. Rabbit, huh? He suspects this friend of his won't have too much competition for the descriptor, but he takes note of the rest anyway, the same way he notes the slightly longer spaces between the boy's words, or the whitening of his knuckles.

It means a lot to Joachim. He'll remember it.

Then he continues, and there's a flash in Wolf's eyes, a peek of something left raw, something that still bleeds through the tired, callused hands that close over the wounds.

"...if she gets into trouble--"

'If I should wander from the path of the righteous--'

"--I want you to stop her. Please."

'--please... lead me back onto it.'

He almost misses the rest of what Joachim says through the jolt, throat bobbing slightly, subtly, with a breath he can't quite swallow. The sounds of the things Joachim said run back in the archer's mind until they become words again, deciphered into the request they were meant to be. His expression smooths, the change of it little more than a passing shudder, though it leaves it not quite the same. Less guarded now, perhaps -- open like a hurt, tender like a bruise, glossed over imperfectly like a bad habit.

"Yeah," he says at first, a blunt answer with still-rough edges that catch a bit on the lump in his throat. He manages to swallow that. This isn't a death sentence. No, this is...

...this is what he wishes he could have done. (There's a crack in his chest.) What he will do for Joachim, if he has to. (He hopes he doesn't.) Even the kindness part. Even though he's never been good at that. The silence stretches out again, and he doesn't realize he's cracking the shadow of a smile, more ache than anything else, but still there.

"I swear to you, Joachim." All the jagged edges wear away from his voice, full and serious. "I'll stop her if she gets into trouble. And I..." He pauses to sigh, a shred of worry evidenced by the way he finally rakes a hand through the slighter side of his bangs. "I'll try... I'll be kind."

It's there that his eyes flit to meet Joachim's again, an intensity to their force and color that he hasn't worn since he left the Wolfguard.

"You come back safe." Sharp, vivid, resolute -- and then it eases into something more familiar, something more... ...or maybe just something less. Something the way he always is, these days. Not through any fault of Joachim's own; it was dying before he'd even boarded the boat to Fódlan.

"It is no trouble."

Erma shakes her head, touched by his gratitude, but faintly wondering if she was truly deserving of it. Looking after Joachim was the least she could do after the injustices she nearly enacted on him—were she put in the same situation again, she would likely make the same choice. But obviously things would be much different, had she the full context of the situation.

(She thinks of Estel. Had she realized sooner...)

She accepts the drink and flower, wondering what to do with the former. She could partake out of politeness... she did not wish for her judgments to be impaired, but champagne was a light enough beverage that one glass shouldn't effect much.

Hopefully.

"Thank you, Joachim." She smiles, "Once again, I am humbled by your kindness. I trust you have been enjoying yourself? No one has bothered you?"

A heart he's acknowledging now as he goes up to the man.

“Today's the winter festival. I'd like to give you something for it to celebrate,”  Joachim makes his purpose very clear from the get-go, hoping to inject some festive cheer.  “Here you are.” 

With that, Joachim presents a neatly wrapped gift box for the man to take.

“It's nothing special, but they're a pair of work gloves I usually make for myself,”  he takes care to explain in case the man might be wary of the contents without being told of them first.  “They're really good for manual labor and anything tough! And keeping the chill out too. Winters back home get pretty rough.

“I don't know what kind of things you do, but in the arena, you seemed pretty focused on getting a job done. We couldn't have done as well as we did without you,”  he admits.  “So if I can help you even a little with something outside of the arena... well, I'd be pretty happy.”

It is better, Father had said in a time long past, for an archer to feel the string beneath his fingers. It meant more control, and thus more stability in the release. Accuracy begets strength, and for an heir without the major blood of that Father had, that Lady Sister had, any ounce of strength must be kept in careful guard.

The sting of the released string against bare skin is nothing compared to the satisfaction of an arrow hitting its target.

Andrei narrows his eyes as the wolf-eared man approaches him, the question they had left their previous exchange on barely answered and certainly not to his satisfaction. That sort of unnatural magical power is nothing short of dangerous, and if Joachim intended him harm, he would have to be prepared at any moment.

Instead of an exchange of words or even an attack he had been somewhat suspecting, though, all the other man holds out is a festive, packaged box.

Feeling somewhat wrong-footed, he listens to the other's explanation, his own mind drifting to a dead man's words from long ago. Without unwrapping the box, he looks back up at Joachim.

"I am an archer. I do not typically use gloves on the battlefield, but…"

Joachim is as clueless to Andrei and his past as he is to anything in Jugdral, as his stint with the Holy Forseti had proved. Even so, at every turn, the man had only tried to render aid, and it is almost enough to believe his words without any suspicion of treachery.

If nothing else, it would be unwise to antagonize someone with that level of magic, even when he is attempting to extend a hand of peace. Andrei inclines his head.

"You have my gratitude nonetheless."

Time management is always a little bit tricky when it comes to considering others, he finds. Even worse when he doesn't actually make plans himself.

“I made this for you if you'll take it.” Because of this consciousness to time, what he holds out is a card. The card itself, though decorated with moons and stars drawn with cutesy blushing smiles, has a simple script that writes:

You're invited! Star-Making Party, First Floor Student Dormitories, eight rooms away from the greenhouse.

Inside the card itself is a soft, peach-colored eye mask with a golden star ornament adorning it on the corner— his actual gift for the day just as much as it is another demonstration of what he can make.

“So long as it's not during lessons and you give me a heads up, I can set up things for us. Just, uh, tell me,” he offers, hoping it isn't too presumptuous of him to follow-up on their promise. “Though in a few days, I'm going on the school trip to Baile. But I'll be free before or after!”

"You heard right!" My, what big ears you have...Kidding! Man, could you imagine saying something like that unprompted?

Where was she? Or, right. Yunaka slows her pace to wait for Joachim as he rushes over to her with a smile. "You're sweet! You didn't have to make me anything." Thankfully the card doesn't look like it's too much of a burden. She takes it from him, laughing politely at the moons and stars, before focusing on the actual text of it.

He's not wearing them, but Yunaka can remember the stars that decorated him for the ball as clear as day. As soon as she realizes what the real gift is, her whole expression lights up.

"Aw! This is so cute!" Probably the first time in her life she's heard about a party and been excited for it. "I love this, Joachim, thank you!"

It'll probably have to wait until after the next moon, she thinks...though it seems like that won't be a problem at all. "Oh, are you going too?" Makes sense, they need as many hands as they can get, and students have lots of those.

But...her smile wavers a little before she plasters it back on. "Well, if we're lucky, maybe we'll get to work together on whatever they have us doing while we're there. Be good to be able to run with someone I know who can handle himself." And keep an eye on him, just in case.

What a… unique appearance, this one has. As do many of the students lately, now that she thinks about it. Perhaps it is some sort of new fashion trend…? Or…??

…No. No, it would be rude to ask. Curious though she may be, self-expression through fashion no matter how odd is a very personal thing. Far be it from her to make a student feel bad about themselves simply because she doesn’t understand their choice in headgear.

Or how said headgear is…. Moving….???? Hm. Must be enchanted, for some reason. Another oddity.

“Oh my, well you have quite the colorful collection in your possession, don’t you? A veritable rainbow of flowers. You must be quite cherished.” Sothis offers a smile as she leans over the other’s shoulder, hopefully lessening any potential discomfort that follows as she reaches an arm into his space to run a hand across the petals.

“Hmm… but wouldn’t they look far more striking if you were to position them like this?” Grabbing the stem of a flower in the bouquets center, she positions it instead to the edge of the gathering — then the one once in its place, she shifts again to another side, brows furrowed in concentration the further along the chain she gets. “Perhaps if we move this one here… these two up here… and…”

Finally leaning back, Sothis pulls an orchid from her own bouquet, securing it firmly in the final remaining space between flowers needed to make it symmetrical. Or, as close to symmetrical as one can get with flowers, anyway. Loose and crumbling in nature as they are (especially cut as they are), it would be unreasonable to expect it to last more than the few moments of stillness the conversation gives them. But for now, it is nice. And that is what matters.

She had not, in fact, anticipated a small selection of tea like some of the students, but she also didn't dislike the options. She did have to admit to being unfamiliar with tea bags however, though the concept was easy enough to understand. So what Hinoka did was to make two cups of tea and find a random person.

This would achieve two things, first, networking. She would meet someone she didn't know. Secondly, blossom collecting. If she handed a lily to someone with the tea, perhaps they might offer one in return.

Thus that was why, when she met the young man with canine ears, the teacup of Sweet-Apple Blend was accompanied by one of her lilies.

Treat, the fork-shaped staff, still remains strapped to his back after everything— at the ready.

“Though... that's not why I came to you,”  Joachim eases himself in, tone growing a bit serious.  “I wanted to thank you for your direction in the first fight. I would have been lost without you. And the girl and I tried our best after you were out. You hit that distraction for our sakes.”

He's not sure what kind of read to get on the man, but he imagines he must've been invested enough in the battle to try so hard— unlike Joachim at the beginning.

“It's the least I could do for your effort.”

THE WORST OF IT IS OVER.⠀🗲⠀the attack having subsided under the hands of the healers, unwanted attention around him long turned to other things. with the sound of the last horn, the victors are announced, and when the blue lions is the only house omitted from the cry, he returns to his own business amidst the whoops, cheers, and jumping filling the tent. not that he was one for celebration to begin with, but it was. . . disappointing, that he'd been eliminated so early and none of it had been for anything.

gradually, the medical tent empties. patients are one-by-one assessed and discharged, and he takes his time gathering his things and making his way own out——unlike them, he has nowhere to be. at last, a vial of new medicine is the last to be picked up, and rather than stow it immediately, he regards it in his hand, expressionless, gaze lingering on the individual stalks of herb, bent and folded, the pin-sized, off-white seeds that'd sedate his nerves. somewhere behind him, footsteps enter the tent, an interruption of sound that brings him out of the reverie and finally tucking the vial in a safe, easy-to-reach place. then the footsteps draw near, and he instinctively looks up to find the animal-eared boy from before, a quick glance down and up implying the question of what he's doing here.

it's only after he's finished talking, after a stretch of silence holds taut in the space in which he takes in the stranger's profession, that he responds by going back to his packing, picking up a blanket to start aligning the edges, then rolling it into a bundle to tie secure. "it was nothing. you were a liability in battle, that's all. today was just a training exercise, but on a real battlefield, the enemy would take advantage of that. i had to keep that from happening."

but though words come bluntly, the swordsman's tone remains neutral, without frustration or blame. "fortunately, you seem to be a quick learner." the blanket is fastened tightly to the top of his pack, ready for the return to garreg mach early the next morning, and he finally looks at the other again for the first time since he'd spoken. ". . . and i'll pass on the sweets."

In Lex's hand manifests a small cupcake decorated with frosting, topped with various berries, all put together in a pale pink wrapper.

“If you prefer the sword, I can make that too. I just thought it might be a bit much.”  With his free hand, Joachim sheepishly rubs the back of his own neck.  “Sorry I didn't win after everything. Thank you for trying to assist back there though. I couldn't have gotten that duel without you.”

Oh, hey, it was that kid who he'd been fighting next to. Had anyone said his name? Lex genuinely couldn't recall. He certainly hoped not, because that way he at least had some excuse for not remembering what it was. If everyone knew the kid's name but him, that would reflect poorly on Lex. And... was he even a kid? Lex had been internally thinking of the students as children the entire battle because he was in a position of power relative to them as the knight and the husband of one of their teachers, but in retrospect, he probably wasn't even much older than most of those students. Or... was he? It was hard to figure out the specifics of his age with his missing years of memory.

Oh. Shit. He'd gotten completely lost in his thoughts and hadn't paid attention to a word the kid had been saying. His attention was only brought back to the student by a cupcake being thrust into his hand. Had he seen this before? Was this one of the things the boy had carried into battle or something? Nah, probably not. This felt way too soft. It would have gotten stale if he'd been carrying it around all day.

"Huh? Oh, thanks. I didn't actually think you'd give me anything, honestly," Lex laughed, offering a broad grin to the student. "I was mostly joking."

It was something Lex wasn't going to turn down, though. A nice morsel would do him wonders right now, exhausted as he was from whatever that freaky bow had done to him. The juice had helped, but something more solid would really hit the spot. He didn't waste even a second before peeling off the wrapper and taking a huge bite. Just as Lex had suspected, it tasted all the more delicious for how hungry he had gotten over the course of the fight.