Chapter Text
At first, Claude really only wanted to be acquainted with Hilda for her family's territory.
House Goneril keeps the border between Almyra and Fódlan in check, after all. It works out strategically in his head, because if the House in charge of Fódlan's Locket can warm to the idea of Almyrans, then perhaps the surrounding territories will begin to think the same. But, well, it's not as though Duke Goneril will listen to his suggestion just because he's the heir to House Riegan.
Future leader to the Alliance he may be, but that didn't mean connections were easily bought. In the eyes of nobles that serve as Roundtable members, Claude von Riegan is a simple child. Appearing out of nowhere as he did, there is obvious suspicion that radiates off their very beings, but he can't say he blames them. Winning people over would be hard... Especially when those people were just plain stubborn at times.
But that's specifically why Hilda is such an important figure in this large scheme of creating peace between the two countries. He's heard of how much her family can't help but spoil her through the grapevine. A bat of an eyelash from sweet little Hilda and things may run just that much smoother. Yeah, perfect scheming.
It had seemed like a perfect plan, except... Well, he can't get close to her.
It's infuriating, Claude thinks, because the way Hilda acts is just like how he himself acts.
She'll welcome anyone with open arms, offer smiles and kind words, but no one can actually grasp her.
She talks all friendly, says a few things here and there about her family, about her hobbies, but who she is underneath all that? Claude feels as though he can count the number of people that truly know her on one hand.
Hilda can't dodge prying questions as skillfully as he can, but that still doesn't mean he's gotten anywhere deeper than the surface.
Interacting with Hilda? Somehow, he gets it when people get annoyed with his own mysterious act.
However, it's that distance that has him vaguely flirting with her. From what he knows of her, she likes being chased after. It's what gets boys in the palm of her hands, because when they chase after her, she's just that much more likely to give praise. And when boys hear that sweet praise in her sweet voice falling from those equally sweet lips? They come back for more. Claude is good at concocting actual poisons, but Hilda's great at concocting ones that people never really notice until it's too late. She's truly a terrifying woman in that matter, and honestly, Claude's glad they're both affiliated with the Alliance.
Maybe it's because she's so good at putting on airs herself, but she sees through his "flirting" rather easily. Even when he puts that emphasis on 'you' in response to that comment on how difficult he is to grasp, secrets dangling like an apple for her to snatch when no one's looking, she only offers him a grin. His secrets are enticing, he's absolutely sure of it, because her eyes spark with just a tad of interest, but then she's giggling behind her hand as she tends to do and calling him silly.
"My secrets?" she asks him, looking quite relaxed at the thought of it. "Unlike you, I'm probably not hiding anything too important." Before he can even comment, she's walking off with a smile and a wave, and while Claude hates the taste of it, he had to admit defeat.
Offering a Claude secret wasn't going to get him anywhere, now would it?
Perhaps he'd have to do as she did: speak and simply wait for her to chase after him.
So that's why, eventually, he'd spent the past few months telling Hilda story after story about his childhood.
The bait had been easy. A story of his father's harsh training, followed by an explanation on how his mother eloped and starry-eyed Hilda had gotten hooked. When she feels particularly bored, she comes to find him, and they sit and chat for what could be a half hour to a few. It's not just him telling her stories either— Hilda shares her fair share of stories, though most of them are simply her complaining about her brother.
However, when this happens, somehow Claude can understand why Hilda enjoys being sought after by her multiple admirers. It's endearing, spotting her before she spots him, watching how her eyes would change from a squint in her searching to lighting up in excitement upon seeing him. When she calls his name, steps uncharacteristically hurried, he can't help but find himself grinning in amusement. Exchanging stories from his childhood isn't too bad if he can see the always poised and graceful Hilda eagerly run over to him like that.
And then one day, she asks him, "Do you tell other people about these things?" Her feet swing slightly as they sit out by the lake, eyes on the sun as it starts to dip over the horizon. She appears as though she isn't truly curious, and at that, Claude's lips quirk up into a teasing smirk.
"And what if I do? Jealous, are we?"
Hilda scoffs at that, and he can even hear the eye roll in her voice. "As if. I was just wondering because the thought of you being so honest with other people sounds funny... Oh, minus the Professor, that is."
Claude finds himself blinking at that, green eyes turning from the sun to glance at her before falling to the water beneath their dangling feet. His fingertips brush a pebble into the lake, ripples flowing momentarily before they cease.
He and Hilda are already friends. Close friends, at that. That much, Claude will acknowledge.
If Edelgard had Hubert and Dimitri had Dedue, then perhaps it wouldn't be strange to say that he had Hilda. Maybe it was their similarities that made Hilda easy to be around and made it even that much easier to share harmless little schemes with her. They're not bound by fierce loyalty though, but instead tied together by the simple ropes of companionship, and while Claude welcomes that, are they close enough to where he can simply ask her a favor that could assist in changing the relationship between Almyra and Fódlan forever?
They're already incredibly close, but he can't help but wonder.
Honestly speaking, it's not just during Claude's story times they spend time with one another either. They care for their mounts together, occasionally study together (that is, as close as their lazing about could be to studying), and even devise funny schemes against their teacher together. She's saved him countless of times on the battlefield and he has returned that in equal amount. They both soar together on the back of their wyverns, ready to close distance if needed, but trusting enough to give space.
The reality of it is, they spend terrible amounts of time in each other's vicinity, and yet Claude still couldn't help but feel a strange sense of distance between them.
Overall, Claude had found their personalities mesh well, but he had also found it was their personalities that kept walls between them too.
It's a strange thing to be concerned about, considering they truly were close companions and with that type of companionship, perhaps he'd naturally be able to ask Hilda for help someday in the future after all. But, even so...
That distance bothered him.
(And for someone who knew he kept distance with everyone else, he couldn't help but find that laughable).
As they sit in a silence he himself had created, he chances a glance up at Hilda, and as if feeling that that's what he was going to do, she meets his eyes with a questioning raised brow.
"I don't really tell other people that much about my childhood," he finds himself blurting out, lacking the usual finesse he wears like a second skin. "I mean, I say bits and pieces, but... Y'know."
She smiles at that, and something in Claude's chest stirs.
"Really?"
"Really."
Satisfied with the answer, Hilda turns her gaze back to the sunset, a hum of acknowledgement slipping from the curve of her lips.
"I dunno why it took you that long to answer, but okay then."
He wished he could say he isn't even entirely sure why he had even bothered with his belated response, but that would give Hilda more teasing fuel so he holds his tongue. They sit like that in a companionable silence, and while he isn't sure why, his heart seems to swell.