sleepytimejunction | ⚘ two giant handsome men

[It's quickly occurring to Dedue that the most he stands out in is indeed his posture and uniform. However, he has no intention of dressing down; that could reflect poorly on Dimitri, something he would never do.

Still, Balthus seems happy. The drink probably doesn't hurt.

Dedue approaches, taking a seat next to the other man. Even then, Dedue is rigid.]

You are in good spirits.

You bet! Hey, you picked a great night to swing by. A flock of pheasants turned up in the woods not far from the monastery, and we managed to bag us a fair few of 'em! So it's good eating and good drinking here in the Wilted Rose tonight.

[As Dedue sits, Balthus motions vigorously to the barkeep, beckoning him toward their table.]

Hey, look alive, will you? Let me get a round for my friend over here! Oh, and, uh...

[He glances at Dedue, questioning.]

Something to eat? Did you come hungry?

I had no expectations that I would fed. I ate prior to coming, but do not let that stop you from ordering for yourself.

...Thank you for asking.

[That and, truthfully, he isn't certain how the food down here even is. He has enough of a culture clash up above, after all.]

Does Abyss struggle to get proper food?

Well, all right. But speak up if you change your mind!

[At Balthus's signal, the barkeep brings over a slightly dented metal tankard of ale for Dedue, and then heads back with Balthus's request for a spicy meat pie, which he cheerfully advises will be out in twenty minutes or so.

Meanwhile, at the table, Balthus sobers a little in response to the question.]

...Everybody struggles down here. We do all right, mostly, but when times get hard...well, they get hard here first.

[He laughs, under his breath.]

We're under good management, though. Helps keep the order. So we scrounge and we scrap and we make do — and we make sure to enjoy our nights of bounty when we've got 'em.

[For a moment, Dedue is quiet. The tankard is imperfect, and that is somehow satisfying to see. He thinks of the smell of molten metal, his father working. To him, the imperfections were beautiful, more than the fine dinnerware in the castle of Fhirdiad.]

Then I am not surprised at how impressed His Highness was with Abyss. The people and their resilience were things he mentioned first.

[He wonders how much his fellow Duscan people suffer now, also making use of what meager spoils they come upon.

Dedue is not ungrateful to Dimitri. That's impossible. But there are occasions, like this one, that do put things into perspective. Out of everything he has endured, at least Dedue's never struggled to eat.]

I see. I apologize for asking. I do not mean to make light of the difficult life down here.

What've you got to apologize for? Most people wouldn't bother to ask.

[Some people might consider it folly, to tip their chair back onto its two hind legs when 1) they've been drinking and 2) it's already a little bit rickety to begin with, but Balthus is fearless and does it effortlessly, rocking slightly back and forth with the lackadaisical nature of it all.]

"The world turned its back on us, so we turned our backs on the world." It goes both ways, see? So maybe the world made us outcasts. That doesn't mean we won't still stick together on our own.

No, I suppose they wouldn't.

[Fearless or foolish. Perhaps both. Dedue arches a brow and watches Balthus risk a broken neck, feeling himself prepared in case the other man ends up falling. Not before he tries the beer. It isn't actually terrible, which is the surprising part. He's had enough of Fodlan wines and has never really had a taste for it.]

I've no doubt. It is unsurprising and disappointing to know the struggles... but in a way, perhaps that only strengthens the resolve.

You do a great impression of our resident oracle. She's full of sage wisdom, too.

[It's hard to guess how a guy like Dedue will react to that sort of teasing. He's so stiff, he might not see it for what it is at first, Balthus muses. But hopefully he'll catch on. It'd be nice to see the guy crack a smile before he leaves the hospitality of Abyss.]

Been keeping after the garden? How are things, topside?

Hm. Only if it's about sage.

[It's hard to tell if he's joking in return. Dedue's face is exactly the same, and so is his tone. At least he's regularly drinking from the tankard.]

Of course. Your seeds are sprouting. It is a good sign, but I will have more confidence in them when they grow more.

Aside from that, we are to go on a mission to retrieve a Hero's Relic at the end of the moon from bandits.

[Dedue doesn't have any clear opinions on that matter. The relics mean little to him, beyond what is important to Dimitri.]

...Oh, yeah? A Hero's Relic, huh.

[Dedue may not have any opinions on that, but Balthus's face certainly darkens a little at the mention, his chair clunking as all four legs hit the ground again.]

I'd be careful messing around with all that, Dedue. Relics like those can be bad news in the hands of people who aren't meant to hold 'em.

As I understand it, it is intended that we retrieve it for House Gautier and the Church.

...But I would hear your thoughts on such things. As I have little perspective.

Well, I'm no expert. But weapons like those aren't just your average sword or shield; they're made specifically for a handler with a particular Crest. You said this one belonged to House Gautier? Then that's probably who it was made for.

[He shrugs a little.]

Pretty nasty stuff can happen when you defy the will of the goddess. Especially when it comes to thinking you've got a right to hold something she didn't make for you.

[The goddess. Right, of course.

He bears no ill will toward her specifically, but he also doesn't have any love for her in particular. There's a thoughtful frown on his face for a moment.]

So one without a Crest should not wield these items. I wonder what these bandits hope to achieve, then.

That's about the size of it. So don't go picking this one up to deliver into the hands of your lord, you catch what I'm getting at here?

[He stares at the contents of his mug.]

I, uh. Assume you don't have one. People'd treat you better if you did. Treated me better when they figured out I did, too.

[The sheer suggestion of it makes him scoff, almost enough to make him laugh. It would not have been a very joyous one.]

There are no Crests in Duscur. But as I understand it, there are both benefits and complications to having one. I envy no one who bears a Crest.

In this world, there is no ideal position to be in. Not yet.

Yeah, that's the thing. There's not supposed to be any Crests besides the ones the noble lords have got running through their blood, right? The church keeps track of 'em all.

But that doesn't mean they don't sometimes turn up where they don't belong. Things have a funny way of happening with or without the church's approval.

[He cocks an eyebrow.]

Not "yet"?

If there was anyone in Duscur with a Crest, then they are most assuredly dead some years ago.

But yes. I'm aware of your situation, with you and your friends.

[There's a pause, and the way Dedue has another drink from his tankard is almost something akin to shy.]

...His Highness made a promise to me, when we were children. That when he became king, he would bring justice for Duscur. I think he is capable, and that he would also fight for people who cannot fight for themselves.

...He's a good guy, that Dimitri — liked him from the first moment I saw him. I didn't realize you were kids together, though.

[It's somewhere around this time that the barkeep surreptitiously inserts himself into the moment, delivering a surprisingly good-looking meat pie to the table in front of Balthus, its crust nicely golden brown and its vents steaming slightly from the heat of the oven.]

Hey, there it is! Good thing, too, all this talking's making me hungry. Who knew you were such a chatterbox, pal?

[He glances up from his pie, flashing Dedue a sly wink.]

He found me during the Tragedy of Duscur. I would have died, if not for him.

[Admittedly, the pie looks impressive, but he has his doubts that it'll live up to its spicy title. But it isn't his, so it doesn't really matter.

Hey. Wait. Balthus winked at him. What the fuck. Hang on. What.]

...You. Make it easy to speak. That is a first for me.

Then I'm glad he did. You're all right, Dedue.

[He breaks open the top crust of his pie with his admittedly bent fork, leaning forward to breathe the aroma of the steam that wafts out of it, and then thoughtfully pushes it into the center of the table halfway between them.]

Try a bite. You're down here to sample our hospitality, yeah? So you might as well sample all of it.

[There is the impulse to think that Balthus has an ulterior motive or wants something, but... no. The more they speak, the more he thinks that Balthus is being genuine. And that is somehow more unnerving, in a way. So, he nods numbly.

The smell of the pie is all right, and he considers a moment as it is offered to him.]

I am down here because you asked me to be. [Dedue clarifies that with a fraction of softness to his voice.] But yes. Thank you.

[Truthfully, he doesn't expect much. He doesn't care for the Garreg Mach meat pie in the least, but this one has a more savory gravy inside he discovers as he looks at it. He takes a bite, looking thoughtful. It does have a bit of a kick to it, but not anywhere close he might personally prefer. The flavor isn't bad at all, and the meat is tender.

For people who work with little to nothing, they do it decently.]

Hm.

[Yeah. He likes it.]

Not bad, huh? The gravy really saves it. Soaks right into the pastry, spices up the whole thing.

[He slides it back, not all the way back in front of him but sufficient enough that he can tuck into it without having to reach very far, and proceeds to do precisely that. He is not, strictly speaking, a dignified eater, but at least he's not a slob about it, just a hungry man ready to warm his belly with some good food after a long day.]

Just between you and me, I wouldn't be so quick to make you try it if they were serving fish instead of meat. A meal's a meal when you can't afford to be picky, but scrounging up the right stuff to make it taste like something other than fish is hard to do, a lot of the time.

[After having more than his fair share of dinners with Byleth, Balthus' manners don't really concern him. Besides, he sees no true shame in someone enjoying their meal so openly.]

It is not as difficult as one might think, but I suppose it depends on what you have on hand.

You do not enjoy the taste of fish, then.

[He will have to remember that.]

Eh. I ate a lot of it while I was on the run; fish and wild plants were all the dinner I got, sometimes.

[The fact that he goes quiet here, filling his silence by pushing food into his mouth, could possibly be attributed to the notion that he's hungry. It isn't, but it's a nice excuse.]

So no. Not really one of my favorites.

[Ah. That would explain quite a bit as to why Balthus also detests gardening. It doesn't feel like they have anything in common at all, but that doesn't make this unpleasant. Only that Dedue evidently struggles to talk about anything remotely uplifting, apparently.]

Understood.

[He goes to pay attention to the contents of his tankard, to finish it off. It makes him think faintly of the meads that they would brew in Duscur. Nothing is ever really close, but it's a nice memory.]

I don't like cheese.

[As if that's any consolation. Or related.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject