Chapter Text
Claude watched Bethany leave the dance floor, mildly disconcerted by how uncomfortable he felt she turned out. Claude had offered the dance as a courtesy, an Almyran tradition that youths would appreciate their mentors as much as their parents. He knew Bethany had a preference for women, and he expected that she would understand the platonic nature of their encounter regardless. Claude hoped that the true cause of her flight was her nervousness around crowds- an outcome that at least looked likely.
“You are admiring your Professor, yes?” Petra asked. Claude was more grateful for the distraction than startled by the lack of warning.
“That word has multiple meanings in Fodlan’s tongue, Petra. And while I admire her in one way, I definitely don’t in another,” Claude said, turning to face her. His jaw dropped, seeing Petra’s distinctly Brigid-style dress up close. Though the parts of her body the people of Fodlan considered immodest were properly covered, he got a pretty good view of skin in a variety of places, a number of which were mildly arousing.
“Of course. The admiring romantically is for me, correct?” Petra asked. Claude wanted to object to some part of that sentence on principle, but couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse without his brain running properly. He knew Brigid had some exotic dress codes, but he thought he had mentally prepared himself better than this.
“Claude? Can I be helping you?” Petra asked, genuinely concerned. Claude took a drink of water, thanking his paranoia that he carried a bottle on him at all times.
“No, you’re fine. I’ll be relaxed soon enough, I just…” Claude said, refusing to settle on an ending to that sentence. Admittedly, many of the ones that occurred to him mentioned his Almyran background, and he was used to not bringing that up.
“I’m glad, Claude. Dorothea looked at me like that earlier and Edelgard had to do yelling for her to, er… relax,” Petra said. Claude, in spite of her former reputation, could not imagine Dorothea gawking over someone other than his Professor, and allowed a chuckle to escape his thoughts.
“Does it bother you?” Claude asked.
“In Brigid, it is OK to speak your mind about things that Fodlan does not. I am beautiful, and in Brigid, there is no problem with looking. The problem is when it is not just looking. Besides, I had hoped to… surprise you, Claude,” Petra explained.
“Surprise me, that’s the word you want, Petra?” Claude asked, suddenly wondering if his hands should be in front of him where he could quickly place them on Petra’s body. Petra noticed the movement, and took his hands into her own.
“I am having a… Dorothea told to me the word… squish on you?” Petra said.
“Crush, I think. And I share that admiration for you. Would you care to dance?” Claude asked. Petra nodded gratefully, taking the lead as they stepped out onto the floor and tried to figure out the Fodlan steps together. Petra’s shoes were high-heeled and looked nice, but it was clear to them both as one stepped on the other’s toes that they were sturdy enough to match Claude’s own. Claude noticed Edelgard and Lysithea’s textbook performance a short distance away, the precise nature of it belying their inexperience.
“Claude? You are looking not pleased,” Petra said. Claude led a quick twirl, jerking his head at the pair. Petra nodded knowingly.
“Lysithea is a friend to you, correct?” Petra asked.
“More like a little sister. The Golden Deer all know there’s something she’s hiding that’s bothering her, and a lot of us would do anything for her were she to get hurt. Seeing Edelgard with her… it worries that part of me,” Claude explained. Petra’s grip loosened, and Claude tightened.
“Claude, do you know how many years I am?” Petra asked. Claude hesitated, but only because he actually had to think about what Petra wanted to say.
“No, but I know you’re older than me,” Claude said. Petra gave a weak laugh.
“Younger, Claude. I am sixteen, five months older than Lysithea,” Petra admitted. Claude didn’t want either of them to appear bothered, and navigated them nearer an edge of the floor so they could quietly slip out.
“And yet you’re more mature than some boys I won’t name,” Claude said, trying his hardest to look for Lorenz without actually looking like it.
“Fodlan’s nobles don’t mature like Brigids,” Petra snarked, and tugged the pair off the floor.
“Does our age gap bother you? Or does it bother your friends?” Claude asked.
“You are Claude von Riegan, Claude. My squish bothers my friends anyway. But if you did not like Lysithea and Edelgard, I was worried you might not be liking me and you,” Petra said. Claude shook his head.
“Edelgard gives me ngurana, and not because she’s older than Lysithea,” he explained. Petra blinked.
“Ngurana? I do not know that word,” Petra said. Claude realised, before he opened his mouth, that he had stumbled back into native Almyran.
“That’s not a Fodlan word. I’m… well, I can tell you, but I don’t want any… prying ears,” Claude whispered. Petra’s eyes lit up.
“You will tell me next we meet?” Petra asked. Claude nodded, and Petra realised Claude placed a lot of trust in her.
“On the topic of things I’m keeping quiet, have you seen a black stone? It’s really black, almost ominously so, something the people who attacked the villages were carrying around?” Claude asked.
“Ah, that gem. Apart from Monica’s, no, I have not been seeing them here. Should I have?” Petra asked.
“I nicked one from them, but I can’t find it. I’m worried someone stole it. Wait… Monica has one?” Claude asked.
“On her breasts, Dorothea said. I tried putting one of Dorothea’s brooches on mine, but it doesn’t stay put,” Petra joked.
“...Petra, your turn to talk about something. Distract me,” Claude insisted. Petra began a fascinating discussion on Brigid’s traditions on courting.