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It was difficult to find a place at the monastery that wasn’t blaring with holiday cheer. The entire area seemed to be engrossed in the celebrations, so much noise mixing with the cold air. Back at home, Lorenz’s father would use the holidays as a chance to lecture him about becoming a strong leader: how he had to acknowledge the merriment but not partake in anything it had to offer. His people still wanted to see an unbreakable leader even while they were all drunk out of their minds and caroling from house to house in a joyous haze.
Claude didn’t seem to abide by the same lessons, although he supposed Claude didn’t care much for any of the rules of the nobility. The festival of Saint Cichol shone bright under the Ethereal Moon and Claude was the proverbial star atop the tree. The second the monastery’s more religious practices had concluded he had ushered his entire class (and many of the other students) to the dining hall for a feast. Even Edelgard and Dimitri had laughed along, but they were clearly not as trusting as the commoners in their houses. Lorenz hoped that they had at least an ounce of understanding of what their leadership meant.
Lorenz finally found a quiet corner of the entrance gate, not caring for the music that was still carrying itself into the echoing hall. Lorenz was used to needing a respite from the others and their loud, booming voices. He had come to appreciate each and every one of them—they were all strong individuals in their own right—but they could be overwhelming.
He just needed a break from the festivities: church or otherwise.
The entire time he had been in the room, the hustle and bustle had been assaulting him. Lorenz wasn’t sure how the others could deal with so much noise around them. There was too much, to the point where it made him dizzy. He felt much more at ease in the silence of a conference room or of an office where he could spend time reviewing papers and laws instead of socializing with the others.
The hall was vast, his shoes clicking against the tile in an effort to combat the partying. He was only looking for a moment to rest, to collect himself so that he wouldn’t break down in front of the students.
The only thing worse than letting the festivities go on without a leader would be one who cried over them. Even so, he didn’t cry. Lorenz took several deep breaths to collect himself, somewhere where he wouldn’t have to worry about Claude and his ridiculousness—
“What’s up?”
Lorenz nearly fell over when Claude’s voice interrupted his moment to breathe. His eyes shot open to his fellow classmate and class leader, a grin on his face and a glass in his hand. Claude’s hair was messy, clear that someone had tried to fluff it up before he had left.
“Don’t do that,” Lorenz hissed.
“Sorry, I didn’t think I said anything too loud,” Claude said, shrugging. Lorenz looked at him skeptically, but he supposed the man hadn’t snuck up behind him at all. It was his fault for having his eyes closed in the first place in an area that anyone would be able to approach him. “Here, for you.”
He tried to hand over the glass, but Lorenz shook his head. “I don’t drink.”
“Neither do I when there’s people nearby—Edelgard—that would want to poison me.” Claude’s laugh felt natural as it echoed off of the walls, an afterimage of the merriment in the other room. “It’s just water. You looked like you needed a break, but hydrating would help with the process.”
“Thank you,” Lorenz relented, taking the glass. He took a cautious sip, but there was nothing strange about it unless Claude had gotten really skilled at his scheming. “You do not have to stay out here with me.”
“I could use a bit of a break, myself.” Claude leaned against the wall next to him, looking to the suits of armor that stood on the other end of the hall. “Things got a bit out of hand… I hope you can forgive me. You don’t seem to like loud noises.”
Lorenz nearly scoffed at what an understatement it was. They had always been difficult for him growing up, any chorus of voices when he went into the city with his family would make him cry out himself. He had to learn alone how to calm himself, how to push through the sensory hell, but it only worsened as he got older: his father’s cruel voice shouting at him through the vague sounds. His voice was crisp and clear and terrible.
“It is fine,” Lorenz finally said, Claude waiting for an answer. The house leader nodded, his usual grin gone from his face. It matched his eyes much better without the fake smile, Lorenz noted, but didn’t say aloud. “I’m used to it and it will pass.”
“Well,” Claude said, pushing off of the wall, “if there’s anything I can do, ask. They miss you out there and I’m sure our house will quiet down if it means making it more accommodating for you. Besides, I think Marianne would appreciate it, too.”
“I doubt I’m missed,” Lorenz said, his voice accompanied by a bite of bitterness. He wasn’t sure where he had found the anger… perhaps it was because of Claude, or because of the damned holidays, or the sound that terrorized him.
“Well, I’m not able to speak for everyone,” Claude said. He looked towards him, Lorenz looking away. “At the very least, I miss having you in there. You’re a good person to have around, someone I can always rely on. So… take your time, but consider coming back.”
Claude was nearly out of earshot when Lorenz called out, “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Claude responded, back to his usual teasing tone that never quite fled his words.
Perhaps there was joy to be found in those moments. Lorenz took a minute to finish his glass of water before joining his friends once more.