victory_road | February Catch All [closed]

Here Dedue is, indeed.

When Claude approaches and speaks to him, Dedue-- half out of habit-- schools his face into something more neutral. Relaxes his furrowed brow, softens the downward turn of his lips, even though it probably isn't so necessary around someone like Claude. Old habits are hard to be rid of, and Dedue often has thoughts that he never voices.

"I am merely thinking. It is not important," he says, and turns his head to regard his window companion. "Are you well, Claude? I could make tea, if you would like."

It's fine, Claude, let the large man serve you tea and possibly make you an early lunch.

"C'mon, do you really not know how to not be so deferential?" Claude gives Dedue a slight smile. "I asked whether something was bothering you because what you're thinking about is important to me. And while you do make incredible tea, and that's hard to turn down...it always worries me a little when you reflexively offer to do stuff for us, like you're a servant. It's been a long time since our titles from home mattered."

“My apologies, Claude. I have not been clear in my meaning. I do not offer to do these things for you out of deference, but because I know that these past few weeks have been difficult, and I would provide what comfort and ease that I can.”

Actions speak more clearly and readily for him than words. And like any good Faerghan— or foreign boy mostly brought up by Faerghans, anyway— that tends to mean making a pot of tea for anyone enduring hardship.

“Besides,” he says, and there is just a hint of a there-and-gone-again smile at the corners of his mouth, “were I treating you as I would a master, you would not have needed to ask for tea. I would have already had it prepared in anticipation of your needs.”

That softens Claude's smile. "Well, I can't say I don't appreciate it, Dedue, but the thing is, I'm pretty sure these past few weeks have been difficult on you, too. That's kind of what concerns me. There's been a lot of emphasis on how Grant and Dimitri and I are doing, but I'm worried you've been kind of left in the lurch because of it. The people who left mattered to you too, didn't they?"

But Dedue's almost-joke gets a definite laugh. Claude's not yet back up to his full brightness, but by now...well, this isn't his first serious loss rodeo anymore. And he's been trying to lean into the philosophies of his own people, which he grew up in but until recently never had to personally try to practice - celebrate what you had, and what you still have, rather than sit around crying about what you can't get back.

And even a flicker of friendly teasing from Dedue? That's well worth celebrating.

"I guess you've got me there. All right, then; I'll accept your offer in the spirit you made it - that of a solicitous friend who makes better tea than I do. And then maybe you can accept my nosiness in the same spirit, how's that sound?"

"I think that would be agreeable."

With that agreed on, let's go, nosy twink-- it's time for Dedue to make tea. The process of it is something that he's done so often that it's basically muscle-memory, soothing in its ease and repetition. Claude, as he recalls, is partial to Almyran pine tea, and while that exact blend is not available in this world, pine blends are. It isn't among Dedue's favorites-- he finds it a little too astringent for his tastes-- but he doesn't find it objectionable.

And while the water is set to boil, it's only appropriate to gather together foods to have with the tea-- one cannot simply offer tea alone, without something to go with it. Tea sandwiches are simple and something that Dedue has had ample experience in preparing, and they have a few tins of those almond cookies that Claude favors. Dedue prepares these things in the time that he has, his work quick and precise. He had learned to make tea for a crown prince; there are no sloppy stacks or crooked edges.

The snacks are plated and on a tray by the time the tea has reached its brewing time, and Dedue removes the strainer and sets the teapot into its holder, kept warm by a tea light.

"Where shall we take our tea?"

The weather has been getting warmer, but Claude is often cold and it may still not be quite warm enough for him to take tea outdoors.

"Hmm..." Claude ponders the question. "Where would you be most comfortable talking? It's a nice day out, so I can put on a jacket if you'd like to sit outdoors."

It is a bit brisk, but it's not so cold Claude's going to complain the whole time if they go outside. A little layering and he'll be content enough.

"I'll help you move things to the table, though, wherever we're sitting." Claude recognizes and appreciates that Dedue is trying to care for him out of friendliness rather than subservience, and also that, frankly, Dedue is way more skilled in matters of the kitchen than he'll ever be, so he didn't mind letting Dedue handle the preparations, but he'd like to make some contribution. Claude's been waited on often enough as a prince (however grudgingly) and then as Duke Reigan's heir apparent (and, after his grandfather's death, as the duke himself) that it's hard to take no part in the proceedings and not have it feel like he's putting Dedue in a servant's role.

"Let us take it outside, then," he says. "Perhaps you would be more comfortable with a blanket?"

Claude did seem to like curling up underneath one during the winter, and there are plenty of them scattered about the house.

A habit that Felix had also shared. Though Dedue does enjoy the fact that he no longer finds blankets trailed along the floor from when Felix discarded one and left it where it fell, he would prefer the annoyance of picking up to the melancholy of his absence.

If Claude wishes to make some kind of contribution to the carrying, he'll have to be quick about it-- Dedue will take the tray otherwise, and it would be quite difficult to retrieve anything from a man who could easily hold it well above his head.

"Good idea," Claude agrees, grabbing a nearby blanket - there's usually one in reach of him, all the way from the beginning of September to the end of May - and tossing it over his shoulder. He's even quick enough to grab the tray, too; show Claude a man who's had to worry about people poisoning his food for most of his life growing up, and Claude will show you a man who's gotten quite practiced at reaching food before other people have the chance to touch it.

Not that Claude is remotely worried about such things from Dedue. There aren't many people he'd trust implicitly around his food, but all his friends from Faerghus fall in that category. By now, it's trust. Initially...well, initially he'd filed them all under the category if 'not that subtle'.

Look, sometimes you can take comfort in the knowledge that someone isn't good enough to get you, even if you don't yet trust them enough to believe they wouldn't try.

Fortunately, even with the long blanket, Claude carries the tray out and sets it down on one of the outdoor tables easily. Then he grins at Dedue as he sits, tucking the blanket over his lap. "So! Now that we're all set up...what were you thinking about before?"

Leave it to Claude to not forget something he's curious about. Leave it to Claude to, in fact, be so eaten alive with curiosity that he doesn't even get the teacups off the tray before he's prying.

Well-- it seems that Dedue's not going to be the one carrying the food. Claude is quick enough to get to the tray before he does, so Dedue resigns himself to bearing only the tea set. It is, at least, a lovely spring day outside, one that he finds quite agreeable to take tea in. While Claude sets down the snacks, Dedue sets the teacups and saucers down, then pours out an appropriate measure of tea into each.

It allows him a moment to consider what Claude has asked him, and how he will respond to it. On one hand, his usual response to such questions are to diminish, to downplay the issue and remove attention from himself. On the other, he had agreed to take Claude's inquiries with the same openness as he asked Claude to take his-- as Felix might say-- mother-henning. And Claude is too clever by half to be easily taken in by Dedue's deflections, especially not when he's looking for it.

Honesty, then, is the surest path.

"I was considering the roses," he says. "I have some concern for the potted bushes. Though they are supposed to be a hardy breed, they did not have much time to become well established, and winter can kill even well-prepared plants."

The potted ones-- Lorenz's miniature violets.

"Mm." Claude smiles at that, and there's definitely a bittersweet edge there. "Those are Lorenz's flowers, aren't they? I hope they pull through. I'd like to keep that reminder of him. And if he comes back, I'd like them to be here to greet him."

"Yes, Lorenz's flowers."

They are a reminder of him. Dedue will not be able to look at the violet blossoms without thinking of how pleased Lorenz was when he first saw them, or how it was a bouquet of the last roses of the season that finally spurred him to speak to Dedue of things he had kept hidden.

"I think that he would be quite disappointed if they were to fail."

Lorenz had such faith in Dedue's skills in the garden. And while he has always been assured of his abilities, there is... a weight to this that isn't present with other gardens.

"I doubt a gardener of your talents has much to worry about there. Even if the roses are as delicate as Lorenz himself."

Well, Lorenz's health, at least. And maybe his sensibilities. But Lorenz had always been a lot tougher in other ways - in his resolve, and particularly his emotional resilience - than most people would ever suspect. More so than any of them had truly given him credit for, although in Claude's case he excuses himself a bit with only having recently learned the truth of everything Lorenz had endured.

He was kind of hoping the subject would come up organically with Dedue, talking about Lorenz, but in the end he's not too surprised that one of the most reticent men he's ever met isn't forthcoming here. Looks like he'll have to broach the subject himself, if he wants to talk about it at all. So...he tries to balance delicate and direct. "Lorenz and I talked about some personal matters he wanted to discuss with you before he vanished. I think he had that conversation with you, but...I never really heard much about your reaction."

Perhaps Lorenz was as delicate as any hothouse rose, in physical health if not mental resilience— Dedue might have liked to see if, with time and love and patience, he too might have flourished. He hadn’t enough time in this softer world to test that possibility, to see how he might have blossomed. A transplant from impoverished soil to rich loam.

It makes sense that he would have spoken to Claude before he had ever approached Dedue about delicate matters, though. He is quite certain that Claude was to Lorenz as Dimitri is to him— first in his heart.

“I am glad that he spoke with you. I admit that I was surprised when he approached me with such sentiments. I had not noticed any such inclinations at the monastery, and I would have believed that his favor lay solely with you.”

"'Spoke' might be putting it generously. 'Agonized' is closer." Claude chuckles. "He was very interested in you, and who could blame him, but you know Lorenz. He had all that baggage from Count Gloucester to deal with, and then he had to deal with the idea of polyamory? He barely knew what to do with himself. It's a testament to just how into you he was that he pushed through all his issues and uncertainties to pursue something; he tried to squash it down, for a dozen ridiculous reasons, but there was too much for him to hold back."

He pauses. "Did you...return his feelings at all, Dedue? Or was it so out of nowhere you didn't really have a response for him right away?"

February Catch All [closed]

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