isleofavalon | September Catchall

Of course Claude had no qualms with wandering about exposed. Though, to be perfectly honest Lorenz, while irritated with his behavior, was also not too terribly put out by Claude foregoing a shirt while he was healing. Which... was still a horrifying thought to have, never mind acknowledge. At least, for now, he's distracted by the pain in his back. So much so that the warmth of Claude's hand on his shoulder makes him flinch ever so slightly before he registers that it is Claude and almost immediately leans into it.

He tips his head, letting his cheek rest on Claude's knuckles for a moment, taking the comforting touch for what it is instead of the potential scandal it could be. Not now. He's tired and hurting and far too drained to cause a fuss over a soothing touch, even if it is to his bare shoulder.

"Are you certain...?" Hesitant but the fact that he even considers letting Claude make the tea speaks volumes to how he feels. In the end he does end up settling back on the edge of the bed, flashing Claude a guilty look as he surrenders. "There's a... a lemon sage blend that I think you might appreciate?"

Claude smiles softly at the way Lorenz almost melts into his touch, though it's telling how much pain he must be in, so he doesn't linger too long. He has to keep him busy, keep him distracted as much as he can. He draws back.

"Sounds good. Sit tight and I'll prepare it. Do you want something to eat, too?"

Claude talks as he grabs cups and a teapot, then fills the kettle with water to boil. Eating something certainly makes Claude feel better, at any rate, though maybe Lorenz doesn't have the appetite right now.

"Oh... no, I don't think I could eat right now." He shakes his head only for the fall of his hair on the back of his neck to brush over the lines and make him suck in a harsh breath. It takes a moment of sitting agonizingly, carefully still before he lets the breath out.

"There should be some tea cakes over there from the cafe if you'd like, though." Heaven forbid he not offer what he does have for company, even if it is only pastries. It still takes another moment before he allows himself to actually, finally, make a request.

"And... would you be willing to braid my hair again?" Lorenz winces slightly as he asks. "Just enough to keep it off my neck."

"I'm good," Claude says. He's not wild on cakes, and he's not about to sit there stuffing his face anyway when he's supposed to be tending to Lorenz.

As for the request regarding a braid: "Oh yeah? Should be easier without your hair being all wet this time," he grins. Once the hot water has boiled (so fast! the wonders of modern tech), he pours it into the teapot and leaves it to steep, replacing the lid before moving to kneel next to Lorenz. He combs his fingers briefly through Lorenz's hair to remove any tangles -- as if Lorenz would have any compared to his own unruly hair -- then sets to work separating the strands and beginning to braid them.

Then he gives Lorenz a sly look. "You know, if you like me playing with your hair, you can just say so."

If he were to ever have tangles it would be a time like now. Much as he might like to say he did not thrash or cry or any other such indignity under the scalding pain of the ritual it would be a lie. A lie he will certainly tell others but Claude is well aware that he was not still, did not bear it so stoically as he might later claim. And in all of that squirming any mussing of his hair he would not have been able to correct after because he was absolutely not shifting his shoulders that much.

Perhaps, as Claude's fingers glide through his hair, he does let himself relax into it a bit. But the words and, more than that, Claude's expression do make him blush. It feels strange, somehow. Simply acknowledging that he enjoys something so simple. There's nothing to be gained from it, no reason to indulge in it. The silence that follows the little teasing is oddly weighted and pensive.

"I do." Barely more than a whisper, gaze flicking from staring blindly ahead to meet Claude's. Uncertain in a way that he should not be over something so mundane. "Perhaps-"

He frowns at himself, starts to shake his head ever so slightly but stills so as to not disrupt Claude's work. No. He doesn't have to apologize or follow it up with something dismissive or shameful. No more than I should. There is no should about it.

Claude blinks in confusion at him for a moment, before his easy smile resumes.

"--Perhaps it would be improper for a nobleman to wear his hair in braids," Claude finishes for him in a voice that is a (not particularly good) attempt to sound like Lorenz. He has no idea what Lorenz was about to really say, so he just goes for lightening the mood instead. "Oh well, you're committed now."

He really is -- Claude's deft fingers have already finished the braid, and he sits back to look over his handiwork. He's gone to pains to make it neat, just the way Lorenz would prefer it, and braided it to the side so it keeps off of his back.

"That should do it for now. Would anything else help make you comfortable?"

"Something like that." But he accepts the teasing as gracefully as he can manage, a bashful smile and a slight roll of his eyes.

The braid does, however, make it much easier to move. No worries regarding the fall of hair over his new wounds. For a moment he reaches out, fingers finding Claude's and giving him an appreciative little squeeze.

"If you over steep the lemon it's going to become bitter." There's tea to be seen to, of course. In an effort to distract himself with something trivial (and, more importantly, something that will not be seen as an invasion of privacy should he misspeak) he latches onto the familiar topic of tea.

"What sort of teas would you drink at home? In Almyra, I mean... I can't imagine what we know as Almyran Pine Needle is a terribly accurate representation."

Claude's so distracted by the gentle squeeze of Lorenz's hand in his, that he practically jolts to his feet when Lorenz reminds him of the tea. "Gah! That's right." Claude likes his tea strong and bitter and so lets it steep longer out of habit, but he'd forgotten that's not exactly ideal when the choice of tea is lemon. He quickly crosses the room, and pours them both a cup as he talks.

"You'd be surprised, actually. Most Almyran tea in Fódlan is the real deal. My grandfather loosened trade restrictions back in his reign, so all kinds of exports sneak their way across the border." He crosses the room again, handing Lorenz a cup. "Does it taste okay?"

If he had any idea that a simple touch could be so distracting Lorenz would... well probably be insufferably smug about it. He's so used to being the one flustered out of his mind that any opportunity to turn such instances around on Claude would be quite welcome. But Claude is up and moving away before he can even begin to register any distraction on his part.

"It's hardly above board trade in that instance but... Still it's good to know." He smiles graciously, taking the cup and at first he simply breathes in the scent of it. He stops himself from cocking a brow at Claude but only just. Most people do not take their tea completely unsweetened and Lorenz is certainly not one who does but he purses his lips lightly and takes the tiniest sip. His nose immediately scrunches up in distaste but it's just a brief flicker of disapproval.

"Sugar, if you don't mind? ... at least two."

"Oh, you nobles and your sweet tooths," Claude laughs, but he does at least take the cup from him to add a couple of teaspoons of sugar... aaand one more for good measure. After giving it a thorough stir, he then offers it back to him. "Well, it may not be above board now, but if I accomplish the kind of influence you say I do, then it won't be long before it is. Then you can try all the Almyran tea you want, whenever you like."

Then he sits down to take a sip of his own tea, with no sweetener whatsoever. Thankfully it wasn't oversteeped -- at least not by his preferences, anyway. "So, how is it? To your lordship's liking, I hope?"

Lorenz gives an indignant little huff at Claude's laughter but it's a token gesture at best and they both know it. Especially when he gratefully takes the cup back and hums a pleased little sound as he savors the first proper sip. Sweet and mellow with just the right amount of bite from the lemon.

"Perfect."

If he hadn't added that extra bit of sugar maybe it would be too sharp but this is lovely. It says a lot about what a good cup of tea can do that he relaxes as much as he does, finally letting some of that painful tension bleed out of him. "And I will have to try more flavors as things become more broadly available, yes. Hopefully not just tea? But tea is certainly a good start."

"Definitely not just tea! Spices, silks and gold are also big Almyran exports, among other things. But I'll try not to spoil the surprise so you can see it for yourself."

Just like with the war, they could all use things to look forward to once the calamity has been stopped and life goes back to relative normality in their own world.

"Maybe you could even come see Almyra for yourself, not just its trade. You will, won't you?"

"Silks..." he breathes out a wistful sigh, giving Claude a delighted little smile.

But as his friend continues it shifts to something just a little bit sadder. "Of course, I would be thrilled to see your home. As soon as our schedules allow... Though I fear it will not be for a good while yet."

And only ever for a visit, times far too brief when he has so much trouble envisioning life without Claude.

"I know everyone will be busy after the war. Fódlan needs to be rebuilt practically from the ground up. But Almyra can help, and any visits there would be good for warmer relations between the two lands, don't you think?"

He sets his tea down. "Think about it. Right now, people from Leicester and Faerghus know that Almyra was an ally when the Empire was on their doorstep. But they still don't know much beyond their prowess on the battlefield, something that scared them for far too long. If people crossed the border and saw what it was like for themselves, we could start to change people's conceptions of what it's like over there. The sooner, the better."

Lorenz hums his agreement, nodding slightly as he sips his tea. Strange that politics would be the conversation they come to when he is meant to be relaxing but things are finally at the point of fun plans and making strides towards improvements.

"And that the dashing new King Khalid swooped in to rescue Derdriu while we were under a surprise Agarthan attack, of course." Lorenz can't help smirking a little at that and his hand quickly seeks out Claude's again. Now that he has... Permission, so to speak, he finds himself unable to resist the warmth of his touch.

"Once we choose an ambassador and their entourage to travel there it will encourage others to go as well. I've already discussed Ignatz' inclusion in that group with Her Grace. His paintings will doubtlessly inspire more interest in travel within any who see them." The fact that he could also be part of that group, or the ambassador himself, has not even crossed his mind.

"The stories do say he's very handsome," Claude says with a smile, though he's just going by Lorenz's recounting of events of there being a King Khalid at all, having no such memory of it himself. When Lorenz's hand seeks out his own, he laces their fingers together like it's the most casual thing in the world.

"I'd like it if Ignatz did come. Art and culture's just as important as trade, I agree, and I bet he'd get a ton of inspiration. And it'd be great to bring along Teach, too--" He pauses, and 'corrects' himself-- "Er, Her Graceful Teachiness."

Lorenz' face goes a little pinker when Claude teases and even more when he takes his hand so readily. He can't help laughing slightly, even as he rolls his eyes at the abuse of her title.

"I'm sure the professor would love to come but that will definitely take more time before it can happen." His fingers curl a little tighter, conveying the hope and excitement the idea of traveling brings... Or at least he hopes it does. "I want to see it sooner rather than later. For my own curiosity but... For you too. I feel like there's so much I don't know, couldn't know. Maybe... I could learn though. Gradually. About Almyra. About your people."

Another little squeeze, another smile.... And maybe he's a little too hopeful for a moment.

"About you."

Claude's expression is fond, and he brushes a thumb over the back of Lorenz's hand. "Well, you'll learn plenty. There's no better teacher than travel, in my mind. And as for me... I want to be an open book going forwards. No more secrets."

Well, maybe a few secrets, but no more than a king would be expected to have. In personal matters, at the very least, there will be least need for it.

"I really hope you'll like it there. Not everyone there will treat you warmly, but if you can overlook them and keep an open mind just like you have here, you'll be fine."

"An open book? You?" He laughs as he says it though, tilting to the side to bump his shoulder lightly against Claude's. It's a little awkward, he's unused to allowing himself such casual interaction after all, but it's also nice to be able to offer a measure of his affection for the other man alongside the usual criticisms. To soften the sting of his teasing in ways he wouldn't allow before.

"Not everyone will be warm anywhere, I could hardly expect that to change in Almyra. And I've rather gotten the idea that your people's warmth is a great deal closer to Raphael's than mine."

"Hey, it's my greatest ambition yet," Claude says with a slight grin. He knows he's not there yet and he needs to work on it, in other words, but at least Lorenz is taking it in good humour.

As for that comparison to Raphael... "You know, you might be onto something there. When I first got to Garreg Mach, people were always telling me I wasn't very noble -- and not just you. There were so many rules, so much etiquette, so much..." He reaches to indicate his teacup as if to say this, with all the niceties it entailed. He takes a sip, before setting it down again. "Well, Almyra is more easy-going. Whatever your status, people there know how to enjoy life."

He can hardly fault Claude for the secrets he has kept but the fact that he's willing to make an effort now, here... while things are different. It's already so much more than he'd expected. Lorenz sips at his own tea, hiding a bit of a smirk behind his cup.

Only to pause, arching a brow at the implication there. "Is this you trying to say I don't know how to enjoy life? Again?"

He glances over his shoulder a little, towards the new markings down his back, then to the place their fingers are threaded together. "Here I thought I was doing rather well on that front."

"No, no! That wasn't aimed at you this time," Claude says hastily, leaning up against Lorenz and resting his chin on his shoulder with a pout.

"I was talking about Fódlan in general, not just you. For a noble, everything there is about what's proper, or the Church's teachings, or their duty. I sometimes look back on the days at the monastery and think about when people were happiest... and most of it had nothing to do with what we were supposed to be there to learn."

This time, he says. But having Claude leaning against him like that is far too endearing to call him on it. In fact, Lorenz is only half listening, enough to get the meaning of what he's saying but it's a bit distracting having Claude so close.

"Never one for propriety, were you?" A soft murmur, he doesn't need to speak loudly... not really. For a moment he starts to turn his head, to lean in closer, his intentions clear. But he stills before he can, brow furrowing ever so slightly. He's not entirely sure how this works, what this is exactly. Better to ask than assume, though. "May I kiss you?"

Claude sits up a bit straighter, not to pull away from Lorenz but at least to stop leaning his chin on his shoulder. He studies him closely with an intrigued smile. Here he was, rambling away, and he'd managed to distract the other man with such a simple gesture instead.

Not wanting to hold him in suspense too long, however, he nods, speaking quietly. "You don't have to ask. Go right ahead."

Lorenz smiles softly, blushing harder but he nods ever so slightly in return. Then he shifts a little, scooting closer, fingers tightening on Claude's. This is the first time he's initiated anything beyond that first awful, panicked kiss during the game. He's, perhaps, a little too cautious this time. Brushing his lips ever so lightly against Claude's. There's a strange moment when he gasps lightly as though shocked at his own behavior...

Then he presses his lips more firmly to his, savoring the warmth of him. Just a simple press of lips and warm affection and his hand comes up to brush his fingers over Claude's hair. But even if it is soft and simple it's still so much more than he'd ever imagined. He'll linger as long as Claude allow him.

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