Hubert is plotting. He's wandered off for a piss eleven times today.
Initially, I thought this to be a statement about his bladder until realizing that his canteen was full at the watering station. On piss number nine I noticed Danton, as I also had to piss and followed him in an attempt to inquire after his health. I did so after he concluded with Danton, and he accused me of being unusually chatty. This retort was... strange, as it was roughly three in the afternoon... and I had not spoken a word to him since an attempt in the morning - intending to wish him good-morning. That attempt was interrupted by him, as you guessed it, excusing himself to take a piss.
Danton is also getting quite robust now, as I woke up this morning, went to a nearby pond to take a bath and ended up catching several leeches on my limbs in the process.
The owl ate the leeches off my arm quite enthusiastically, but with the most considerate gentleness.
I suspect we'll be great friends, as he just cowers in front of Hubert like a whimpering pup.
Perhaps I can flip one of his assets.
Caspar has lost interest in the Srengian phalanx goosestep along with Ferdinand, leaving Linhardt looking like a golem, thrusting his limbs up mechanically with his eyes closed.
Dorothea was able to withhold laughter initially, but now cannot bear it, stating its similarity to some sort of burlesque dance done on Enbarr's gondolas during the carnivale.
The Deer are shuffling along much more miserably.
Lysithea and Leonie are the only ones who know how to pitch a tent and are rooming, so most had to endure a late-night lesson from yours truly on the basic principles of it all. Apparently Manuela passed that lesson to me.
The whole affair went well past midnight, but the afraid-of-ghosts girl was up-and-at-em. Lysithea was very quick to lord her camping knowledge over His Deceitfulness and Hilda particularly, and spent most of the time acting as my little assistant, even snapping at Leonie when she tried to interrupt our sharing of a midnight-snack of "Enbarr Delight's" Bonbons outside their tent. I purchased that and a satchel full of other high-priced sweets at the dry goods store during the mission prep.
Before I retire, Leonie informs me that I'm an embarrassment to the Eisner name for cavorting around with a fifteen-year-old... and not training instead. I inform her that my father met my mother when she was fifteen, and she immediately gets flustered. The Apprentice was as surprised as I was when I heard that. I was fifteen at the time though, and naturally the son of the man in question.
My father has constantly adjusted the age at which he met my mother, actually – usually to match mine – in an effort to encourage me to find a girlfriend. Obviously, I have not found a girlfriend yet, so the age at which he met my mother has gradually increased all the way to 21, prior to Remire.
Now he has adjusted my mother's age to seventeen - the two meeting when he was 21 - and informed me that he waited to marry her until she turned eighteen during the month of the Garland Moon like a proper chivalrous gentleman. Why didn't he wait when he was fifteen, then? Perhaps my father's memory is declining.
How old is my father, anyway?
I also have no idea what day my mother's birthday was, but my father did recently ask when Edelgard's was – so maybe that jogged his memory sufficiently and he'll reply with a specific date soon.
After thinking through a response to the age quip, Leonie then asserts that I cannot be the son of Jeralt Eisner, because I have azure hair.
Sothis, strangely, takes offense to that – and immediately demands that I reply. But I don't have one, because she made a fair observation. I have no idea what my mother's hair color was – but my father's is a sort of golden-brown.
My reply to Leonie is dictated by a very angry Sothis, who I defer to in this moment because Edelgard is sleeping:
"My father said that my mother was more beautiful, feminine, and attentive to him in every conceivable way – particularly in comparison to you."
It's a mouthful, and I ask Sothis to keep the replies briefer and more characteristic to my own voice next time, as I'm forced to reach for my canteen after saying it.
Sothis than informs me that she has very strong feelings about motherhood – which is quite a shift from "I might have a daughter" – her last expression on the subject. I'm also told that she's one of the best mothers in the world quite haughtily, because she has at least ten children – she thinks. What prompted her to forget about the other nine(+?)...?
My mother only had one child before dying and I interpret her reply as a critique before Sothis "Phooies" me, and endeavors to inform me that my mother was very special – for some unknown reason that she's very sure of – and her expertise is due to knowing my mother for a very long time. The Beginning then calls me a fool, and that my mother would suggest that I should focus on the women in front of me for the time being. I choose not to focus on the information there, but instead make a go at following her directions.
…But the only woman in front of me now is Leonie, who is a debased woman trying to stamp over the memory of the mother we were just discussing...
I'm then unconsciously directed to the tent with Petra and Edelgard inside – who are also both underage for things like mothering, I think?
...I've had enough of the Beginning for tonight – but she blames her lack of wit in these wee hours on an onrush in memories. These memories are apparently tied in proximity to a place she feels quite attached to.
She's quite attached to my head all the time, though – and all she does is insult me.
In any event, perhaps because of my unusual Sothisian(?) verbosity, Leonie storms off blushing as red as her hair. I guess Sothis is good at insulting people. She confirms this shortly after with an insult. How did her beloved put up with this?
But the point remains – I don't think I resemble my father much at all – physically, at least.
I went to bed very confused after that, but after thinking about Edelgard's laugh after winning the board game, everything made sense and nothing hurt anymore — except for my chest, which I'm used to now – having grown quite accustomed to the knife stuck in it.
When I went to check on Leicester's Finest after rousing, I realized that Marianne had rescued a wounded passenger pigeon, which are used by the Kingdom for military communication. Unfortunately, it appeared to be on a trip without a message. It did, however, carry the brand of County Gaspard on its right talon.
After ensuring that Manuela's wards don't starve, we begin the march at 10am to account for the Deer's late night.
Some, including Ignatz, who I held in esteem earlier this week, have the audacity to complain about the breakfast I cook for them. Food on campaign is supposed to be terrible. That makes you want to finish the campaign, I say... a bit more tersely than that. With a fuck included for effect as well.
Lysithea is riding along with me on the horse today, as she has grown quite weary from marching, and has a doctor's note from Garegg Mach's obstetrician to provide for this. Edelgard, who wanted to lead the march on foot – is now extremely bothered by this, though. I asked, perhaps unclearly, if she wanted a ride later, and her neck immediately whipped away from mine. Dorothea volunteered before Lysithea shot it down, waving the doctor's note in my face and asking if I was illiterate.
If I was illiterate, what would be the point of reading the doctor's note again?
Sitting high up on the saddle, the White-Tailed Deer is, as the morning drags on, quite eager to give me headpats after explaining minor achievements of hers that she's done in my absence. The headpats then become very aggressive when I'm told that she isn't learning enough to feel satisfied – and I shrug – asking what she expects me to do about it. I haven't even held a lecture yet. She demands to be tutored, and I inform her politely, with Edelgard watching very intently, that I'm not her Professor anymore. The headpats then turn into head-slaps after that acknowledgement.
Claude then sauntered up alongside Edelgard while marching (none of the deer are marching in goose-step, I should clarify), and immediately turned round and began goose-stepping in reverse. At this, Dorothea loses it and has to break out of line to stop from choking while chuckling, the absurdity of the situation clearly getting to her.
It's of course only absurd because of the participants, and I inform Edelgard of this, noting that Sreng has an excellent military record, surviving for a decade of Fabian struggle against the combined armies of the Alliance, Faerghus, and Albinea, with the latter enforcing a naval blockade that starved their citizens for years.
She listens to all this quite intently, and inquires why.
I clarify, in my short and halting manner, that the Srengians are a stratocracy, (learned this word from the Tacticon) and only allow the militarily competent to thrive. They are always short on diplomats and mages, though... and that's probably why they're always getting bullied by the other powers nearby.
My student absorbs every word, and spends the rest of the hour picking my brain for every last scrap of knowledge I have about Sreng - which is quite reliable, as I've strangled a lot Srengians, and they're even chattier than the Almyrans. At one point, Edelgard even heads back to the supply wagon for a notebook.
An attempt is made by me to inform her that that's unnecessary, which was going to lead into a compliment about her brilliance before she cuts me off.
She then cautions me not to try to be an expert on books, because I've only read two of them.
I silently take that advice for what it's worth.
And Dorothea finds it hilarious.
So funny she starts hacking again.
In an attempt to improve my ineffectual chivalry (required for having romances and children, I suppose) I offered the Songstress my canteen to calm her throat. Hers was emptied on the last laughing fit. To my surprise she declines it furiously, informing me that it would be an indirect kiss.
Edelgard then positions herself between the two of us.
I should remind myself in case I ever read this again that I am in fact on a horse, and Dorothea is much taller than Edelgard, and could reach over and grab it from my hand without disturbing a lock of that precious white hair in between us.
The Songstress then suddenly asks an overly interested Edelgard for permission to drink from my canteen, in spite of declining earlier.
The permission is denied, and my House Leader informs me that miasma could be spread in this way.
I attempted to explain that Dorothea was not qualified for that type of magic, but the red-faced Adrestian ordered me to defer to her in this matter, which I did.
After this deference, I was then henpecked by Lysithea for my compliance with someone who as "lazy and slothful" as Edelgard. When I replied with "actually, she's brilliant." a fierce but approving nod from the House Leader was shot back – followed by a series of very Lysithean complaints from behind, accusing me of wasting time in indulging a student who was unappreciative.
I attempted to remedy the situation with my satchel full of sweets, but was accused by the Deer of plying goodwill with candy.
This did not stop the sweet-tooth from clamping down on some fudge from some very expensive chocolatier out of Derdriu – surmising that she had similarly expensive tastes to the other white-haired noble. Naturally, I was correct.
After this very public display, Claude then implied that I had "upgraded to a newer model" with the girl on the horse, and then set about his usual needling of Edelgard while maintaining his reverse goose-step.
Realizing that I might as well just lean into how strangely this march was proceeding, I responded by getting off my horse, sliding Lysithea's minute frame further down the saddle, prompting her magenta eyes to stare at me in quiet shock – then, to defuse any meltdown and attract Claude's attention, set about goose-stepping in file alongside Hubert, who was continuing on with the affair quite dutifully, in spite of looking utterly disgusted.
The Heir to House Vestra notes that my ability to do all this with a totally blank and uninterested face is "quite rare indeed", and I am also warned that he is finding new and unique ways to "torture the emotion out of me".
Good luck, because the woman you serve can't seem to do it in spite of sticking a thousand daggers into my chest every time we chat.
After that, he steals off to the woodline to take piss #12 with his owl whose "wheel" I'm slowly turning.
Claude then spent the rest of the twilight hour ribbing me for poor marching form instead of ribbing Edelgard for being Edelgard, which is a great relief.
I should note that Claude most likely knows nothing of Sreng, and his corrections were of their dressage march, and not field march. Then I note how curious it is that he's familiar with their dressage march - as they only do that for parades, and only in their home country, or in Almyran territory. The Srengians don't have an ambassador in Derdriu. But maybe they do in Fhridiad, because I've never been there... and I'm willing to grant that the Alliance Heir gives me the impression of being the most well-traveled of the bunch here.
After identifying that he's actually identifying the parade march, he shuts up, flips around and goes back to goose-stepping in proper formation with my House Leader. He's almost tolerable when he's like this, and I'm only possessed by the desire to strangle him for bullying Edelgard five or six times after that. Naturally, I emote nothing and he thinks we're getting along swimmingly.
No game caught is today by either Petra or Benadetta, so camp cakes & bacon grease are served for dinner. I immediately have a person asking for bonbons when this information is distributed – and then another person informs me with an all-too-serious squint that I shouldn't be carrying bonbons in my satchel – and merely items pertinent to the mission.
It is then suggested that I should supply her with a satchel inventory in the future, because I'm Her Teacher and she's my House Leader – and if I expect us to collaborate, she needs to have final approval on what I bring and don't bring with me for each mission.
Both of these persons have white hair, and the latter would likely not protest if I identified bergamot tea and cinnamon sticks as mission-pertinent items.
Tents go up shortly thereafter.
Checking in on Linhardt and Ferdinand, who are rooming together – I learn that Linhardt had grown exhausted with the smell of Caspar's feet – and any additional exhaustion from him would render him unable to proceed with the march. I suspect Hubert does not care about his new roommate, as he always smells like pickle juice, spends most of the night making sure I don't fill Edelgard with too much sentiment. He also sleeps with a cologne'd mask on anyway.
Lin's tentmate, my ginger gentleman, regales me with stories about the Barony of Morgaine, the title he wishes to enfeoff me with so I can become the one-word-reply-guy to Edelgard's future Emperorship. Apparently, the hot springs are the finest on the continent.
I suggest taking the class on a trip there sometime, and he approves, as he reckons it would be a fine first activity for him to plan as House Leader - adding that such an activity would happen much more quickly if I made him House Leader instead, as he is eager to prove his worth to his father, Duke Aegir. I inform him that in my estimate, he is already worthy, and I receive another hug, as he makes his own opening through Lindhardt's sleeping bag, nearly knocking over the tent in the process. I suspect now that Ferdinand also has a somewhat strained relationship with his folks.
Even so, I trust his judgment in matters of class and refinement without a second thought, so I will look towards such a thing in the future – perhaps to celebrate a victory or soothe a defeat.
Groggily, Linhardt tells me he has stopped snacking on coffee beans, and that doing so has restored his ability to both maintain a normal nap schedule and return the usual acuity to his analogies. This is a great relief to me, and I wonder if Hubert had perhaps wanted to suppress those rare abilities of insight intentionally during St. Macuil's Day, for whatever reason.
I run my flame analogy by him before leaving, and he makes some excellent refinements to it that I'll use for the pre-battle lecture.
