#lorenz secret poetry stash

[nobletoatea]

gold flecks underfoot coast vanishes into mist, unreality

[nobletoatea]

Claude’s embrace warmed him to his core. Lorenz held him close, even when Claude’s words after such a thing were so blunt, logical, cool. Lorenz knew what he was being asked- if he would chase his beloved deer out of the pastures and forest trails of his home to the world beyond their borders.

“Nothing is ever easy with you.” Lorenz smiled and laughed lightly, squeezing Claude once and pulling back enough to look him in the eyes with a tender gaze. “My heart has been broken again and again by many things- and it keeps circling back to you. Always has.

“If this path I must tread at your side is difficult, foreign, overwhelming- I shall do it gladly to help the people who are dear to you, so they may be dear to me too. Leicester has many kindred spirits to me, even my own siblings will flourish in my absense, seeking a brighter future for our people. And Claude- I am a no mere Fódlan Noble you know!” Lorenz straightened himself even on one knee, posture proud with Claude in his arms. “I am Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, and I do not give up, back down, or break a promise. Whatever is waiting for me, I will face it with all the pride and strength I can beside you.”

Lorenz gently touched Claude’s cheek and traced his jawline with his fingertips, brushing against the trimmed beard with fondness. He leaned close and stared into Claude’s green eyes, unable to stop a swell of emotion in his chest from reaching his voice. “You’ve made a better man of me than I thought possible- please, never stop.”

Verdant Wind, Red Roses

@nobletoatea

It was perhaps one of the messiest poems, by Lorenz’s standards, but it was what he had. For Claude to judge, for any passerby to hear- this was the passionate turbulence he couldn’t bear to trim down.

His free roaming, most disastrously written poem by noble standards was his most precious.

“Claude.” Lorenz called out to him softly. On any other day he might’ve noticed the sunshine, the birds, the picturesque horizon that his eyes adored so much- but today all he saw was Claude. He held his parchment with shaking hands and swallowed, looking Claude in the eyes. “Face to face- this is for you.”

He’d written it as his heart demanded, spilling out and candid:

“If only my soul fit nicely into a chart An easy graph to sketch Mechanical poem to write

“Instead I must convey line by line This tangled fabric without a pattern To lay it flat on a table And if every syllable were a stitch They’d be exposed to a seam ripper Ready to analyze and examine Such vulnerability with precision As though my heart is physically out of my chest And its inner workings for dissection

“I love you, I love you, I love you,”- his voice broke for a moment- “I’ll say it passionately as I must open to mockery and scrutiny from any sneering being in the flow of time who looks upon my life If I am to be picked apart and make myself defenseless I shall do it to completion for all to see Shamelessly, gladly, proud of who I am, who I love, who you are!

“Without rhyme and barely with reason I love you, I’ve loved you for years When I shouldn’t, not enough when I should have When I thought you were someone else’s When I spent fleeting moments imagining if you were mine What between us has ever been slack? It’s been wrought with tension Sometimes a lethal bowstring Or sometimes an sweet instrument, making music when finally plucked

“What am I that I orbit a moon? All I can say is that I am yours Seasons and cycles have weathered but never broken These feelings that never fade- only rise and fall like the tide and stubbornly refuse to fit in my little boxes of pre plotted rhythm..”

Lorenz took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he knelt down on one knee and held Claude’s hand, eyes off the parchment and only on Claude, on this Day of Devotion, answering a call.

“Without mincing words to scramble into riddles I love you, I love you, Claude.”

The poetry doesn’t have the rhyme or meter that he’s come to expect from Fódlan poets, nor Almyran. It’s long, the words tumbling from Lorenz’s mouth inelegantly like a spilled glass of water, and yet here Claude stands transfixed. He holds onto every word, picking apart each syllable just like Lorenz said he would. And then, Claude’s thoughts scatter once Lorenz takes his hand, kneels on one knee like some fairytale knight from Faerghus…

Lorenz has risen up to the challenge given to him five years ago. Now Claude must rise with him.

“Lorenz.” His voice has an uncharacteristic waver to it, and Claude sinks down to the ground with him, slowly wrapping his arms around the other man into an embrace. After all that he’s been through, all the sacrifices he’s made, surely Claude can give this to himself. Weakness, and the ability to avoid Lorenz’s eyes, love-filled eyes that want to see him just as vulnerable as he is, to unravel him like a stitch on a shirt.

No. Fear begins to pool in his stomach. “You ought to know by now that my ambitions lie beyond Fódlan’s borders. To abandon them for love would be a betrayal to myself.” Blunt, cold, it’s the only way Claude can put it so that they can both understand the consequences of this decision. “I told you that you’re a Fódlan noble through and through. Don’t you see? If you follow after me, that would mean leaving all that behind. And my path isn’t an easy one. You’d get a taste of what I went through those my first few years in Derdriu.”

A pause. “Listen to me. I’m not a fool. I won’t cry for someone I know I can’t have. And I won’t let you break your heart over someone you might not be able to keep.” Claude hugs Lorenz tighter. “Understood?”

[nobletoatea]

can language be exhausted or perhaps the mind wearied to read beautiful words roses, strawberries, summer breezes and not smell the sweet luster of a flower in bloom nor taste the vivid red of coveted berries and to only feel wind without sunshine on the skin? my cadence is merely dull footfalls flat on pavement a poorly executed song by a novice musician mechanically acknowledging a rhythm with no spirit left to dance

[nobletoatea]

Starry Eyed [Niles & Lorenz]

Starter for @devious-archer

Just as he promised, Lorenz waited until nightfall to take Hesperos out to stargaze. He imagined Hesperos must be excited to see the night sky for the first time in his life, a day above ground. Lorenz was bubbling with eagerness under the surface as well, finding a spot on a low hill just a minute from the tavern, within sight, to look up at the stars.

“I think... you might be that star.” Lorenz pointed and then brushed powdered snow off a rather flat rock near the ground, already prepared to be chilled to the bone from being outdoors and sitting on a stone. He folded and held his arms close to his chest, breath fogging in the air as he looked upward, Hesperos by him. The view miles from any major city was beautiful, moonlight illuminating treetops as far as he could see. Leicester had leafy forests, while the forests there in Faerghus were meant for winter weather, pine needles a sturdy green under the coatings of ice and snow. Didn’t Almyrans make tea out of their own pine needles as well? It was something to consider.

Lorenz stared, enraptured by the sight and thinking of his box of papers and journal back at the monastery, full of poetry. Not that he would share much with anyone, but he started composing, so overwhelmed with peace at the scene in front of him. He didn’t mind Hesperos hearing. In fact, even one audience member was welcome.

“High above the trees comets chase each other’s tails, river of heaven.”

[nobletoatea]

Happy Birthday, Hilda

Verdant Wind AU. Hilda finds this on with a red rose her pillow after she and Lorenz spent the night together, likely after Claude has confessed too.

You are made of poets’ favorite words A maiden crafted from sweetest phrases Flowers, meadows, springtime, sunlight, songbirds Your beauty and heart deserve such praises But just as fine sugar melts on the tongue Shallow, pretty calligraphy is skin deep If this were the end my love would be young For you, I settle on nothing so cheap Artistic, creative, incredible, strong, I might hope to match you on any one Center stage and bold is where you belong Shy, but when you try you are not outdone I tell you this, humble heart in my hand, I will always be yours, just as we planned.

Love, Lorenz

[ask-claude-von-riegan]

Woah now Lorenz, no need to get so heated. I was simply commenting that, while your incredibly noble and dependable, your hairstyle makes it hard to take you seriously. Besides, I know you're deeper than your hair. I've read your poetry. That's right, I know about your secret stash. Your work is exceptional.

I cut my hair with a- Honestly, Claude! I suppose I should be happy that you at least said that I am reliable and have a good heart, but would you please stop making such careless comments about me? -Lorenz

All I see are right angles my friend. I meant what I said earlier, but your hair is ridiculous. If you don't cut it with a protractor, how else do you get it so perfectly proportional?

[nobletoatea]

Have Mercy On Me

Starter for @godsmercie

This was inconvenient.

Lorenz’s mission was to find a fiancée beyond reproach, yet he hadn’t had the heart to attempt courting any girl for weeks. He stared at the ceiling and sighed, tossing and tangling his bedding. Such restlessness was rare for him; with his stash of tea, sleep was usually just a warm honeyed sip away. Still, he hugged a pillow to his chest and pensively gazed at his dimly moonlit window.

Whenever he thought of who he wanted to share his life with, the same impossible answer kept surfacing to his mind. Noble, bright, charming, diligent, and his most precious companion. Lorenz didn’t want to imagine how nice it would be run his fingers through soft fiery golden waves or to hold his dearest friend close, just the two of them in a moment of peace. It would be perfect- never having to count the days to see him because they’d live together. Horseback rides and tea any time they wished, excursions to town with only a moment’s notice. Someone who could mutually understand and support their workload together with such empathy it was as though their minds were one. Ferdinand was perfect- and anything he wasn’t perfect in, his zealous drive to improve on it made up for it.

Lorenz tossed in his bed again fitfully. At first, it had only been for the sake of his poetry. Surely authors should have many muses, and the ability to step outside their own preferences was a necessary component. It was a creative exercise. Now, every adoring stroke of his quill when thinking of Ferdinand held more innocent but potent affection for him than any lady that caught Lorenz’s eye- yet he knew it could never be. Ferdinand would never return such feelings, and the thought of harming their friendship with any display of selfishness made Lorenz sick. He closed his eyes and murmured to himself the words that had been churning inside of him:

“Dearest love, my heart’s secret I can’t keep, I look into your eyes and I’m undone, My dear, my soul’s yearning is much too deep, And my affections have only begun. I see your smile when I close my eyes, Your fire vibrant like the crest of dawn, And you are as graceful as the sunrise, Beside you, I am as meek as a fawn. But fate has declared this love cannot be, I am to keep silent, to walk away, Already wilted, I’m not so carefree, To hope to be yours, or even to pray. May I still love you, the one I hold dear With these tender words you must never hear?”

Lorenz kicked his blankets off and shook his head furiously. “I need help,” he muttered. His meter might be off- no, not about that. There was one person he knew who might be able to help him sort out such superfluous emotions. He gathered up a tin of sweet tea leaves and shrugged on a house coat and slippers, silently opening his door and walking down to Mercedes’s room, hoping she was as gracious as the rumors said.

“Miss Martritz? May I come in? I… need urgent advice.” Lorenz slowly creaked her door open, suddenly shy as the thin band of evening candlelight from her room illuminated his face. “You don’t have to- I could never enter a lady’s room uninvited. I can just leave these here as a peace offering and be on my way,” he added quickly, holding up the tea. He kept the toes of his slippers outside the threshold of her room as a precaution. Considering their last encounter, he wouldn’t be surprised if she turned him away.