isleofavalon | August Closed Prompts

When she hesitates, almost stops herself, Lorenz makes a point of scooting forward. Maybe it's not the most appropriate but he hates seeing her like this, so he moves over to take her hand in his, convince her to stop plucking at her fingers like that. What she says is not surprising, not really.

The surprising part is that she admits it.

He gives her hand a little squeeze. "Yeah...?" An encouraging nod. "That's good. The two of you are so very close."

He's honestly a bit jealous but he can hardly blame her for wanting to remain as close to her as she can.

Whether or not it's appropriate, the gesture of him taking her hand is appreciated. As much as she's doing this for his benefit, it's a huge admission for her. That he's taking it so well, with genuine warmth and encouragement, really does help her feel better about the vulnerability of her own coming to terms with things.

She responds to the hand squeeze with a small smile and a gentle squeeze back.

"I'm saying this to you because I hope that you, too, can look into your heart and be honest and kind to yourself."

Marianne is not the sort to push too directly--that's better left to... well, pretty much every other member of the Golden Deer save perhaps Ignatz. But she wants to make sure her point gets across, regardless of whatever Lorenz decides to do with it.

Of course he wants to support her. He loves her dearly and she deserves to find some happiness. But then she turns the same logic back on him and he immediately shakes his head, dismissive.

"There is little room for soch concerns among the nobility as you know, Marianne. Hilda is the second child of her house, you were adopted into a family that tried to force that burden upon you. If... If that is how you feel then the both of you deserve the opportunity to embrace it." His smile is a little more distant now, a little more fragile.

"Political alliances are still an important part of the stability of Fodlan. I made my peace with marrying for my House a long time ago. Whatever is best for the people is what I will do..." Lorenz shrugs a shoulder, glancing away. "Claude insisted that is a rather backwards way of looking at it but.... It's what's best for everyone. Regardless of any truths I may or may not find in my heart."

Besides.... It's easier to accept if it's not entirely his fault for being wrong.

His response breaks Marianne's heart, not least of all because he's not really wrong.

They each carry that same weight: marry for the good of the House and its future. The primary difference between them is that, for all of his faults, Margrave Edmund is a much more reasonable man than Count Gloucester. He's stared to see Marianne's potential as an actual heir, which in turn gives her the leverage to have more of a say in her own future. That luxury is never going to happen for Lorenz. Even if, by her estimation, he deserves it just as much as she does.

She reaches over with her free hand, cupping his in between both of hers and holding it gently. "Backward as it may be, the world won't change overnight. I know that," she concedes. "You have the chance of a reprieve from all of those obligations here, and I hope you can find it in yourself to embrace it at least a little. But I won't insist on it, if you truly feel that you cannot." She realizes that there is a danger to letting oneself soar when there's a cage waiting back home, after all.

"Regardless of what you choose to do, I'm here when you need me. Please, please don't hesitate to talk to me when you need an ear." If nothing else, she hopes that statement is unambiguous. Lorenz dearly needs a friend in moments like these, and it's support that Marianne is more than happy to provide.

For a moment he looks away, unable to hold her gaze without giving away more than he thinks he can afford. His eyes landing on his journal and for one panicked moment he wishes he still had his magic, could light the entire thing on fire and burn away the traitorous ravings within it. It was too dangerous to have here. He should get rid of it.

(The nagging voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Father insists he should never have let himself waste his time with such frivolous notions in the first place.)

"If I-" His fingers twist, squeezing a little too tight around her own. "I can make it easier for you and even Hilda to pursue your dreams by holding to the parts of tradition that the rest of Fódlan is not comfortable surrendering just yet then that is enough."

The expression he aims for is a small, gentle smile but it's impossible not to see the resignation in his eyes. He shifts a little bit closer yet, laying his free hand over hers where they wrap around his own. "Her Grace and I are focused on what is best for Fódlan's recovery. Whatever that requires, I will do."

Claude entrusted things to him, after all, he had to do what was best for the people.

Lorenz is trying so, so hard to put up a strong face for her. But the tightness with which he holds her hand and the sadness in his eyes give him away. Marianne wonders if he realizes how much she can see through him right now. Or if he cares.

Ultimately, however, it doesn't matter. There's so much that she wants to say, should say, but for now she finds herself unable to pursue him in his metaphorical retreat. He has listened and considered what she had to say, and that will have to be enough for now. Perhaps someday, he'll rethink his rejection of it.

"Thank you, Lorenz. I'm truly honored to have you as a friend."

Despite the sadness that she feels for him, she does her best to give him an encouraging smile as she speaks.

"You really are so.... breathtakingly kind, Marianne." His smile becomes a bit more genuine, rueful almost as he shakes his head slightly. Then he sighs, looking up towards the window, just staring out of it for a long moment, tumbling all the pieces around in his head.

"I suppose... it's a good thing, then. That I waited..." He squeezes her hand once more and slowly withdraws one of them. "I had thought... once the war was done..."

The hand still holding hers shifts, drawing her hand up so he can press a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "to ask for your hand... I'd never forgive myself if I kept you from pursuing the one you truly want."

Marianne blinks a few times, taken aback. And then she lets out a breath of air and returns the nature of his smile.

"You know, you were one of my adoptive father's favorite marriage candidates at the Academy. He thought it would be good to align ourselves with a strong Alliance family." There were other reasons, but Marianne doesn't have the heart to speak them aloud: that Count Gloucester is far safer an ally than enemy, for one, and that the strength of their bloodline might be enough to drown out the possibility of Marianne's own Crest being passed forward to their progeny. Given the nature of the conversation, there's no need to remind Lorenz further of the sorts of games that nobles play.

She leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek, chaste and gentle. "Accepting your proposal and pursuing Hilda's heart may not end up being mutually exclusive, depending on how things play out back in Edmund once the fighting is done. If we end up in a place where you feel it's all right to ask, I would happily accept. I cannot promise you romance, but I can love you. Do love you, Lorenz."

For a marriage of obligation between nobles, that's far more than most get.

Lorenz smiles as she kisses his cheek, leaning into her a little, shifting closer so he can curl an arm around her in a hug. He would not usually be one to be so straight forward but he nods slightly. "And I love you, Marianne..."

Even if he's not entirely sure what or how he means with that. Romance has always been so low on the list of priorities in a potential partner that her statement that it's not something she can offer certainly doesn't make it feel as though it takes anything away from how much he cares for her. If anything the fact that he does care so very much despite the lack of romance only makes that more solid, doesn't it? "I would never expect you to sacrifice what your heart wants out of some foolish noble obligation."

Still he turns to look down at her, something thoughtful, almost curious in his expression, though he shakes his head lightly, dismissing it before he says anything.

Lorenz doesn't have to be sure of what he means for the words to matter to Marianne. Even if they're still figuring out all of the forms love can take, and even as she suspects she's not the only one of the two whose love for the other is purely platonic, she considers herself very blessed to have his. This is one of the greatest benefits of learning to accept herself--loving and being loved by others, no matter the context.

Marianne does him the kindness of not pointing out the inherent hypocrisy of his statement and how he's not applying the same rules to himself as he does to her. Instead, she leans into his arms and rests her head against him. "They are foolish obligations, aren't they? I pray that our children--with each other or not--will feel freer to love and marry as they please in the new Fódlan we're creating for them."

Her words are warm and hopeful. Claude's vision may not be immediate enough for all of them to see all of the benefits, but that doesn't make her believe in it any less.

She glances up and notices the way in which he's looking at her, almost like he wants to say something else. "What is it?"

Edited (should probably address the whole tag with my response, huh >_>) 2021-08-16 22:16 (UTC)

He is a huge hypocrite, of course. He will always hold himself to standards of perfection far beyond what he would ask of others. Standards that are largely unachievable. Standards of expectations set for him by his Father in his youth that he has only spent his years compounding on.

Still he likes the idea of that, the next generation able to find and embrace love, to be free in a reborn Fódlan that is ripe with opportunities. It only makes his smile brighter as he nods his agreement. But she looks up at him and he hesitates briefly... before allowing the words to stumble out of him, awkward and staggered in a way the hand that brushes her cheek is not.

"I- that is... if you- M-may I test something?" His hand stills uncertainly, fingers halfway through tucking a lose strand back into the weave of her braid.

Marianne shifts against him, sitting up slightly to get a better view of his face as he reaches for hers. "Yes, of course."

Part of her knows what he's asking, even if she doesn't let herself consciously think too much about it. They've already bared so much of themselves to each other this afternoon--one more way of doing so doesn't feel like anything more than a foregone conclusion at this point. If he needs to know, then let him do as he needs to.

(Honestly, part of her needs to know, too.)

It's not subtle, not really, not given what they've been talking about. It doesn't take much coaxing, with how they're sitting, just the slightest tilt of her head. Then he leans in to press a soft kiss to her lips. Sweet and uncertain and... terribly awkward as he pauses there for just a moment, somehow expecting something more than merely soft warmth and fondness.

Maybe expecting something akin to the way his heart raced so fast he'd felt dizzy the other night.

It's not unpleasant but there are certainly no sparks, none of the rush that is supposed to come with such a thing, he thinks. Which leads him to draw back a little, turning his head to instead kiss her cheek as she had done to his moments ago. The fact that he's hardly even blushing speaks volumes beyond anything he could possibly say.

Not that he has any idea what to say after that.

The kiss is gentle, sweet, and tentative. And that's all it is--there's none of the hunger she observed when Lorenz kissed Claude, nor does she feel any of the fluster from when Flayn merely kissed her hand. Lorenz doesn't linger, and Marianne doesn't pursue his lips as he draws back with a kiss to her cheek.

Really, this is the only way this kiss could have gone. But Marianne doesn't regret doing it. It's a final confirmation of what she's recently figured out about herself and what she knows about her relationship with him. She can only pray that Lorenz is able to walk away with answers instead of more questions.

Even with her prayers, she's pretty sure that won't be the case.

Silence falls between them, and for once it feels awkward and stifling instead of companionable. Unable to bear it, Marianne forces herself to break it. "If you need more time alone, I can take my leave."

For his part Lorenz is so caught up in his own head, in what this means, or doesn't mean or could mean that he hardly registers the awkward tension. He glances back up at her from where he'd been staring into the distance, violet eyes wide and almost frightened. His hand clings to hers though, stopping her from leaving him. For now, at least.

Just... for now.

He opens his mouth, searching for words, something that could explain- could excuse- It was one thing to acknowledge that romance wasn't something he'd be allowed to pursue but the idea that there is a very real possibility that, romance aside the whole purpose of a proper marriage would be utterly useless because of him- There are so many repercussions for the pieces that want to fall into place, the pieces he keeps trying to rearrange in his head as though he can stop it from making sense if he doesn't acknowledge it.

"I-I'm sorry, Marianne...." His voice trembles slightly but he refuses to acknowledge that too. At least until one hard fact crashes into him and he covers his face with a hand. "Father would rather see me dead-"

"That Gloucester boy could be a good match, Marianne. And I'd much rather be on the Count's list of allies than not, given the lengths he's allegedly gone to in the name of his House's superiority."

Marianne thinks of those words from her adoptive father, spoken to her over five years ago, as Lorenz falters. Back when she had never even seen Lorenz's face, let alone carved a place for him in her heart, and the idea seemed so political. Now, knowing him and seeing first hand how much he bears the brunt of his father's ruthless ambition... suddenly it's very personal as well.

"Then we'll marry." Marianne's tone suggests that she will not accept anything less, speaking with the sort of firmness she usually reserves for an out-of-sorts animal. "And your father never has to know anything."

She pauses for a few moments, then tries to get ahead of his inevitable argument against the idea. "If... if Hilda loves me too, like I hope she does, then I'm sure she'll understand. I'll make sure she understands. She cares about you too, Lorenz, and I'm sure she'll be thrilled to have someone in her life that understands fashion and that sort of beauty the way she does." Marianne is hopeless with it, and she can't imagine the likes of Holst being any better.

"We Deer look out for each other, and that doesn't have to change once the war is over. In fact, I would rather it not."

"Of course we do... Which is why I can't let you tie yourself to me when the two of you deserve to be together." He shakes his head firmly and, much as he doesn't like to think of it that way they both know that when he really sets his mind to something there is no swaying him, he will dig in his heels and double down no matter how much evidence there might be that he is in the wrong.

At least.... until Hilda herself comes to him and insists.

"No one needs to know anything. It hardly changes anything." Not his Father, not their friends, certainly not people he cares for more deeply than he probably should. It's bad enough that she knows when it is very much the sort of thing one is meant to keep quiet about unless they care to bring disapproval upon themselves and their house.

"I suppose there's no sense in planning our future based on assumptions and hypotheticals, anyhow. We should focus on the here and now." Marianne has no intentions of letting this issue go forever, but she's fine with dropping it for now. All they're likely to do is go around and around at this point.

Patient and caring as Marianne is, there's a small part of her that just wants to reach over and shake him. She knows him to be stubborn, but this goes so far against his own self-interest that she can't help but feel some frustration over it. It's like nothing she says is really getting through because he's so committed to his own emotional demise.

This must be like what it was to deal with her once upon a time. The irony of it isn't lost on her. Bless the people who were patient enough to be persistent with her. It's a blessing she intends to pay forward.

"...I know," she counters gently. "It doesn't change anything about who you are or how I see you.

"That said, I know how delicate and terrifying it can feel. Nothing we've spoken of today will leave this room, Lorenz. I promise you that."

Not pushing the argument now means he absolutely believes he's won this particular disagreement. Which is good because he's not sure how much he could argue it without feeling sorry for himself and that is not something he intends to let himself do. There's no reason for that, at all. He is so blessed to have the people he does in his life and be able to enact change the way he can. He knows that.

Sometimes he just...

No.

"I... appreciate that. It may not change anything but others may not see it that way and I would hate to make a poor representation of us, as Deer, as citizens of Fódlan, or as Other World types." Because clearly something like this would make people think less of him. Especially when one is meant to keep up appearances as he does. It may be ridiculous but, as ever, he holds himself to a higher standard than he would ever dream of holding another to.

Marianne certainly cannot begrudge Lorenz his concern. The sorts of people in Avalon vary so vastly, and it's within his nature and upbringing to try and maintain appearances to every last one of them. He wouldn't be Lorenz if he did anything otherwise.

(It's an endeavor doomed to failure, but this conversation has made it abundantly clear that she cannot dissuade him. And perhaps facing that sort of challenge here will help him to let himself grow, as Marianne's experiences have done for her.)

"Of course. But... I hope, at the very least, we can continue to be honest with each other in private moments such as this. Not necessarily about this subject, but in general." In all honesty, she fully expects the topic of love and romance to be tabled indefinitely. "I hope that's not too much to ask."

It is a challenge he will just have to learn to adapt to as time goes on. Somehow he'll find a balance, even if it takes a fair bit of trial and error.

"I... will do my best, even if it is uncomfortable to discuss such things at times." He can't help it when so much of his upbringing insists that discussing any such thing is utterly inappropriate. But he will do his best. There's a very good chance that he might just combust if he keeps everything to himself either way.

He leans against her a little once more before nodding to himself and sliding off the edge of the bed.

"In the interest of further honesty I..." Lorenz fidgets for a moment, sucks in a deep breath to steel himself, and reaches for the journal on the nightstand. "I am going to go downstairs and collect us some wine. Perhaps a rosé?"

Another decisive nod and he presses the journal into her hands, turning on his heel and marching out the door. It will not take long, his room is not terribly far from the lobby. But he gives her more than enough time to get an idea of what nonsense is in the journal because he absolutely could not bear to be in the room while she looked through it.

"We can do our best together. I'm not the most comfortable when it comes to talking about myself, either." But it's good for them to be able to open up, and if they find safety in each other that's all the better.

He rises, explaining himself before the question of where are you going leaves her lips. A smile slowly crosses her face as she accepts the journal. "A rosé sounds wonderful, thank you."

Once he's gone, she opens the journal and begins to read its contents. It's filled mostly with poetry, short bits of verse that are thoughtful and often melancholy. They speak of a sensitive soul, guarded and lonely, pining for something he can't quite bring himself to say too plainly.

When he returns, wine and glasses in hand, she looks up from it with tears in her eyes.

"Lorenz, this is... it's beautiful." And it is, above all else. "Thank you for letting me read some of it."

He steps inside, setting the wine glasses down on the small desk, trying not to look at her at first, convinced she'll laugh or- He did not expect her to cry. Lorenz ends up rushing over, drawing a kerchief from his pocket and dropping gracefully to one knee before her so he can use it to gently dab at the corner of her eyes.

"It is... a silly hobby, nothing more." Dismissive and embarrassed, shaking his head as he says it. "Certainly nothing to warrant tears, especially not from you, my dear."

Overly familiar and affectionate, maybe but... they'd reached a sort of understanding here, something deeper than either of them had shared with another before and somehow it felt natural to dote just a little because of that.

Marianne doesn't recoil when he reaches over to dry her eyes, instead giving Lorenz a sheepish smile of gratitude. After today, Lorenz is among the few (but growing) number of people she doesn't feel strange being so personal and close. Given the ease with which they've both fallen into that, it may have been true for some time longer than she's realized.

"I don't think this hobby is silly at all." She closes the book and holds it out for him to take back. "I keep a journal, but it's never anything so eloquent as your verse. Mostly it's just ramblings about my day." It's a hobby she picked up at the monastery, at their Professor's suggestion, and she's kept it up this whole time. She's found it a helpful way to sort her thoughts and feelings.

"I've no doubt your words are just as heartfelt." This is another of those stubborn points he refuses to see reason on. There is nothing special about his writings, save that they are a fantastic waste of time. He is well aware of that. Still... it helps him to center himself, come to terms with things as they change around him, eases some of the ache left behind by the war.

Foolish though it is, he can't quite bring himself to stop. Not for lack of trying, mind.

"I simply thought it... might help... explain a few things, I suppose." His smile is just as sheepish as hers but he steps away, uncorking the wine with practiced ease and beginning to pour two glasses, returning to sit beside her as he passes one to her.

"To... romance, I suppose?" Toast him Marianne.

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