middaeg | Aereuer Showers

When Saber hears about something or someone predating on the various flocks and farms that help keep the city fed, there's no question in her mind of what she ought to do about it. She volunteers herself to help track down what (or who) is threatening the people of the city she finds herself in. There's simply no alternative to her mind. There's a whole group dedicated to it, of course, and the whole affair is a bit loosely organized, but they're sitll being paired up or put into groups to work together. If it is a creature, it's better to have someone with you if you stumble across it.

She just wasn't expecting who she'd up with.

It's why she finds herself on one of the dirt roads that stretches out toward the fields and forests, picking her way through the damp and trying not to look askance at Diarmuid. She didn't object, but she also isn't sure how he feels. They've only spoken a few times and she's acutely aware that there might still be pain there.

"Where do you think we should start?"

It seems best to get down to business.

Aside from the problem of the elusive Devil, there are always expeditions to be mounted out into the wilds to keep the infection back and hunt down infected creatures to ensure they don't pose a threat to outlying farms and houses and to keep lines of communication to the outposts clear. She brings her sword with her, of course, and isn't completely surprised to find a few new faces when the group begins to their trek.

One in particular catches her attention - a tall young man with blond hair. She draws apace with him with a business-like nod, "I do not believe I have seen you out here before. Are you newly arrived?"

A Mirrorbound, she means. Not a native from Aefenglom.

Naturally, Diarmuid had been silent throughout the process, smiling and nodding but otherwise not entirely knowing how to react to his new partner. The witch helming this particular branch of the investigation had gone about introducing the two of them as though they were strangers, oblivious to the unease lingering between them. It was almost a relief when she had left; he feels no need for pretence in front of Saber. Their relationship is- well, it's perfectly simple in its perfect complexity.

Even now as he glances over at her, it's with an unreadable expression. It's true that they've been civil- hell, outright friendly with each other over the network but it's a very different experience in person. Perhaps that had lulled him into a false sense of security. The changes in her physically, a potential visual way to draw a line between the past and present, do little to straighten out his amibivalence; no amount of claws and tails could make her any less magnetic. Any less King Arthur.

He clears his throat.

"One of the farms set upon by the beast is nearby." He shades his eyes with his hand and peers at the tufts of smoke visible just over the treeline. "If you'd like to examine the damage first hand, it might be an idea to pay it a visit."

Saber has enjoyed the few interactions they've had on the network, even if there is an awkwardness in the air between them now. How could there not be? Their shared history, as limited as it was, still left behind wounds and heartache. Her transformation - bit by bit - has added another element that she's still grappling with, unsure if it changes anything. If it changes her.

She is still glad to see him, though. Even with that awkwardness.

She glances up at him as he clears his throat.

"I think that would be best," she replies with a nod, "It's been some time since I went hunting. The last time was for a white hart..." She trails off with distant look.

"We were not successful."

Diarmuid's footsteps falter as he stops to regard her- but it's reflexive when his hand goes to his midriff, fingertips brushing fabric with an almost imperceptible tremble. It's not quite the same place his spear pierced in Fuyuki but-

"... neither was I," he says.

The hand falls limply to his side and he forces himself to look away, irritation already beginning to well up in the wound the memory left. Saber's presence is so confusing. The twin memories of his pride at fighting alongside her and the humiliation of his end hit so many familiar notes in the tragedy of his legend that it's hard not to linger in it. But only briefly: allowing it to effect him now would be unprofessional. More than though, he's trying against all his intincts to believe that she was telling the truth. If she's the king he so desperately wants her to be, his faith won't be the death of him this time.

As they reach the gates up ahead, he glances over his shoulder.

"Have your senses grown any stronger since your transformation?"

Edited 2020-04-06 22:50 (UTC)

Saber notices the little movement, the brush of his hand against his torso. She doesn't want to say anything, because bringing up painful memories doesn't seem a wise decision. So she moves on, choosing to pretend to be ignorant in order to spare him. Is that the right answer? She certainly hopes so.

"Somewhat, I think. I can hear and smell a little better, but... it's a little strange, honestly, having a tail and claws. I keep getting my hands tangled in things. And I can no longer wear gloves..."

She seems a little spooked by that. Although it's something subtle, a bit of a twist in her expression as she follows him.

"Whatever happens, this is what I must cope with now. And I will. You... seem to be a touch more fortunate in that regard."

Likewise, Diarmuid lets that flicker of discomfort pass without reacting to it. Their relationship is so delicate right now that it feels like any misplaced comments could tear the still healing ties holding it together.

"Aye, I've been spared a lot of suffering." He pauses, brow furrowing slightly. "Some of the more... psychological changes filter through my Bonds but it's minimal by comparison."

Well, mostly through one particular Bond. It's a good thing that this mission hadn't taken place a few days before because he still would have been sneezing and sulking with the remainders of a headcold thanks to a misadventure on Berserker's part.

Diarmuid unlatches the gate and steps through- but his next move comes before he can stop it. Wordlessly, he holds it open, head bowed slightly in expectation of Saber following him, as though he were waiting on a lord. After all this time, those old habits hold strong, it seems; a king is a king, no matter the circumstances they find themselves in.

Edited 2020-04-07 12:49 (UTC)

A new arrival and unbound, Dimitri's presence on this venture has been the point of contention for a few of the more regular travelers. Others vouched for him; when a pair offered to watch over him, he had thanked them profusely.

And then kept to himself as they set out.

Of course, he has questions, but Dimitri has resigned to finding his answers in battle, rather than in idle chatter.

Not that he minds the sudden company - he turns to the woman with a polite smile and nods. "That's correct.

This is my first venture into the wild, but I assure you I will stay out of the way." He says, but he's brought two spears, and he does intend to fight should one arise.

Saber, at least, finally has a bond, although she's not here for this expedition. Saber has taken it upon herself to see to the newcomer and find out a little more about him. Mirrorbound should stick together, shouldn't they?

"I don't think you should worry overmuch," she replies with a nod. He seems to carry himself like a soldier or a knight and she quietly approves.

"Is the lance your weapon of choice?"

"I've finally managed to bond to someone," she replies thoughtfully, "Although it is likely one of convenience and to prevent my losing control rather than one that is close."

She's reluctant to discuss it more than that, honestly. She didn't enjoy losing her own self-control, especially considering who she ended up losing control around. That's neither here nor there, though, and she's ready to move on from the subject as soon as possible. She pauses as Diarmuid unlatches the gate and there's a flicker of surprise as he holds it open for her and she can suddenly see in him one of her knights and she feels as if her heart will burst.

But she doesn't say a word. She nods in acknowledgement; a gesture of respect and thanks and then she steps through and continues, moving with her usual quiet efficiency.

The night of the full moon isn't as bad as the last. She's not swept up in a wave of fear or need or a loss of self-control. She feels anchored, even if the distant feeling of being aware of another at the back of her mind is a little strange to get used to again after having not had it for a few months. It's there, but Saber tries to distance herself a little, mostly out of a respect for Byleth.

That becomes something of a problem midway through the night. It begins with an itch on her shoulderblades and at first Saber simply tries to ignore it, tossing over in her beed from one side to the other as it becomes worse and worse. Soon, it's dominating her thoughts and turning from an itch into something sharper.

What, exactly, is going on ?

The growing discomfort that Byleth can feel through the bond definitely gets her attention. She's has been keeping odd hours, thanks to the time she arrived and Edelgard's own nocturnal habits, so she's not woken by it, but... this is alarming. She had expected something to happen on the night of the full moon, but whatever this is—concern and worry bleeds through from her side of the bond, as she retrieves her watch from where she's placed it on her desk.

Saber. Are you all right?
Do you need help?

The second she places her watch back down, she's already pulling on her boots.

Saber is focused on herself at the moment, at least until her watch chimes at her. She rolls over and picks it up, trying to ignore the growing feeling on her back. It's turning into something stabbing, but it seems to go on and on.

I am in pain. I'm unsure why.

I apologize if it's bleeding over to you.

She worries about many things, but especially about causing pain to the person who's graciously given her assistance. She stands and starts to move, if only to try and keep her mind focused, pushing out into the hallway of the massive mansion she shares with two other people.

That seems exactly like what she'd expect from Saber so far. Byleth finishes buckling her boots in place, turning her attention back to her watch to answer.

I'm more concerned for you.
Where are you now? I'll come to you.

Edited 2020-04-08 23:22 (UTC)

I'm at home. Although I feel like I need to step outside.
Thank you for your concern.

She's moving now, bare feet on the carpet as she goes down the hallway to the stairs. She doesn't want to wake up her house-mates. She starts down the stairs and halfway, she doubles over, bracing herself against the wall as it turns to pain.

Maybe having a bonded closer will help? She doesn't know.

After a quick exchange with two of her housemates, she's out the door.

I'm borrowing Edelgard's bicycle and some pain relievers. I'll be there as quickly as I can. Do whatever you think will help in the meantime.

Byleth's... never ridden a bicycle before. She's seen them being used since arriving in Aefenglom, and she thinks she understands the principle, but... well, first time for everything. Luckily, her coordination and riding skills seem to translate... well enough? So she's on her way as quickly as she feels she can safely take this thing, sending assurance and warmth through the bond in an effort to help.

There's no reply. Saber's trying to deal with the pain, focusing on pushing through it, her breath ragged. She hears the chime, but doesn't have a chance to reply. Instead she pushes down the stairs, teeth gritted, then then out one of the side doors into the side yard. It's damp and cool, but clear, and the moonlight almost seems to help, but also intensifies it.

There's a pulse of acknowledgement down the bond instead; gratitude. Mingled with it is the pain. Something sharp and almost stabbing. She finds a tree and bends, supporting herself by pressing her hands against it. She can feel skin shifting, a press of muscle and bone under the skin.

It is not a good feeling.

When Byleth arrives, she can find Saber there. From the way she's bent over, it's easy to see that there's something shifting under the back of her nightshirt, pressing against the fabric.

"Byleth-"

Byleth doesn't bother to park the bike, letting it fall as she dismounts and rushes to Saber's side, kneeling beside her. She had been able to feel how the pain worsened, and that had pushed her onwards to get there faster. She notes the shift under her nightshirt. Maybe it's another change coming in, that happens in the full moon from what she's seen, but...

"Saber." She pulls a glass flask of water from her coat pocket, and a vial of pills. She opens both, quickly, holding out one of the painkillers. "Take this. It will help."

"Thank you," Saber murmurs. She's still dealing with the pain, but she's doing an admirable job of not showing it, despite the gritted teeth. She takes the pills and the water and forces one down with a swallow. There's no reaction immediately of course, but she does seem to relax, just a fraction, before there's another wave of sharp pressure and she tenses again.

"I... apologize for bringing you out here-" She starts to say and then her teeth grind together as something (well, two somethings) begin to force their way out, the cloth of her nightshirt starting to tent.

Byleth forces down whatever anxiety she feels at the state Saber is in, not wanting to risk a feedback loop that would only make things worse. Her own jaw tenses from the echo of the pain, a sharp sound coming from her throat. "Don't try to speak. Just look at me." Her voice is strained, even as she tries to sound every bit the commander, and she pockets the flask and pills again, placing her hands on Saber's shoulders. Best to try to give her something better to focus on than the pain.

She tries to push reassurance through the bond that apologies aren't necessary, that it will be okay once Saber manages to ride this out. She doesn't have to deal with this alone.

Saber lifts her gaze to Byleth and is grateful for having another person to focus on. She's dealt with pain before and she can endure it, but outside assistance is never a bad thing. She takes another deep breath, her eyes flickering with concentration as she tries to hold herself back from crying out. One of her hands snakes out, grips at Byleth's wrist, her knuckles beginning to go white as there's another push, another sharp stabbing sensation and a sickening crack as something pushes free, finally and strains the cloth of her shirt.

It's still going.

Small favors, though, it doesn't seem like this particular transformation is bloody.

"What's - can you see what it is?"

Byleth's felt worse, but this sort of pain is something that she's never quite thought of before. Even feeling just the echo of it is difficult to handle, but not impossible. She grits her teeth and lets out a pained groan as... whatever that is tears free from Saber's back. She ignores the pain from the vicegrip on her wrist, even if she's sure she'll have some bruises from that.

"... No, it's... I'm not sure." Well, she could give an educated guess. But she's troubled by the apparent sight that what's emerging from her back still isn't at full size, especially as... "Saber. I need to cut your shirt. Can you trust me to do that?"

Saber will apologize later. Right now she's just holding on. Her grip slackens a little as she registers Byleth's question and she lifts her head to blink at her, sweat sticking her hair to her forehead.

"I - yes. I trust you. Do what you must."

She shifts her weight, feeling another spasm run through her.

"None of the other transformations were like this-!"

Convenience... that's how things began with Berserker isn't it? He's quiet for a moment, the faintest of smiles flickering if not across his lips then in his eyes, brightening his countenance for just a second or two. Even the thought of him warms his heart, bolsters his confidence in this strange scenario, and he seems more relaxed for it as he turns back to Saber.

"I hope it brings you more than just peace of mind. Truly."

There's something painfully genuine about the way he says it and, as soon as he realises, he's forced to look away, embarrassed.

"Regardless," he continues, "we have a duty to the people here."

Right. Duty. It's much easier to focus on that than their complicated emotional lives and he picks up the pace a little more. It isn't longer before the first of several barns comes into view, accompanied by a herd of grazing sheep and the odd cow- none of whom seem very concerned about being dragged off in the night. The farmhouse sits in the middle of it all, its doors open and several chickens pecking around the yard.

The formality she exudes is comfortable for him. Dimitri falls into step with the woman easily, matching his gait to hers as the group travels farther from the city. With a polite nod, he accepts her reassurance, though he will still be conscious of his behavior.

"Ah, yes. I have a fair amount of training in sword and hand to hand combat as well.

A lance is simply what I'm most comfortable with." He doesn't dual wield them like some kind of weirdo, either, he just... breaks them easily. Honestly, he's wondering if two was enough.

Aereuer Showers

Diarmuid

Dimitri

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Byleth - Night of Aereuer 8/Morning of Aereur 9

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