[ Unbeknownst to Claude, it turns out he and Petra both have the very same idea concerning this day.
There's been many holidays he's learned about since arriving, what with there being so many people from so many different worlds, and at first he'd scoffed a little at this particular one. A knee jerk cynical reaction; what made one day more important than others when it comes to giving gifts? There's the fruit he's been leaving Petra here and there since their meeting in the Horizon where they'd exchanged different ones from places they call (or called, in his case) home. Surely that tallies up to be something greater when they're added together rather than being thought of as anything else.
But. Even Claude knows this is a flimsy excuse, really. So his searches in the markets grow to include more than just fruit alone as the date draws ever closer with the belief that he'll know what to purchase when he sees it, patient as ever to solve a puzzle entirely of his own creation. In the end, he's not wrong. There's a stall dedicated to weapons he likes to browse, having picked up his initial dagger not long after arriving in Cadens there, and the owner likes to set aside things she thinks Claude might appreciate. On the day that his gaze falls upon a dagger with a handle of carved green stone that has just the right heft when he picks it up, it leaves the market with him tucked away in his satchel.
On the day of, it's arranged in a paintedwooden box along with its engraved leather sheath, a vial of weapon oil, and a whetstone to keep it sharpened and so its new owner won't have to sacrifice any of her own supplies for this gift. On top of it and what's first visible when the box is opened is a letter written in neat script:
Petra—
I have to admit, the idea of there being one specific day that's not a birthday or other celebration where gifts are prized above all others seems a bit silly to me. What are gifts for if they're not meant to be enjoyed on all days or as a surprise for any reason the giver decides? Bear with me for a moment as I promise this has a point.
The more I thought about it, the more it began to make sense to me. There are plenty of gifts to be given whenever, it's true, but perhaps the danger of doing so is that they all start to blend together and to seem more like an obligation than something freely given. Obligation might be overstating it, but I think it fits the downsides of such a thing all the same where there might be a point unmade and left for misinterpretation.
And the point of this one, of course, is that looking at this reminded me of you. That for no matter what happens, with this in hand you might always remember I'll be there for you even if I'm not at your side right then. Perhaps this will do until I can be.
—Claude.
The box will be left on her bed when he stops by their apartment to retrieve a ledger he left behind from bringing home to balance it before leaving for his afternoon work before leaving again. Only the gift will be waiting for Petra to discover it. Much as he enjoys waiting to see someone's reaction to his plans, waiting on this particular one feels a bit too much for him.
Of course, when he returns home for the night later and finds a gift matching what he'd given in more ways than one, a confirmation there was nothing to worry about after all - he'll be nothing short of thrilled. ]
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— a gift for 2/14, backdated because i'm the worst
There's been many holidays he's learned about since arriving, what with there being so many people from so many different worlds, and at first he'd scoffed a little at this particular one. A knee jerk cynical reaction; what made one day more important than others when it comes to giving gifts? There's the fruit he's been leaving Petra here and there since their meeting in the Horizon where they'd exchanged different ones from places they call (or called, in his case) home. Surely that tallies up to be something greater when they're added together rather than being thought of as anything else.
But. Even Claude knows this is a flimsy excuse, really. So his searches in the markets grow to include more than just fruit alone as the date draws ever closer with the belief that he'll know what to purchase when he sees it, patient as ever to solve a puzzle entirely of his own creation. In the end, he's not wrong. There's a stall dedicated to weapons he likes to browse, having picked up his initial dagger not long after arriving in Cadens there, and the owner likes to set aside things she thinks Claude might appreciate. On the day that his gaze falls upon a dagger with a handle of carved green stone that has just the right heft when he picks it up, it leaves the market with him tucked away in his satchel.
On the day of, it's arranged in a painted wooden box along with its engraved leather sheath, a vial of weapon oil, and a whetstone to keep it sharpened and so its new owner won't have to sacrifice any of her own supplies for this gift. On top of it and what's first visible when the box is opened is a letter written in neat script: The box will be left on her bed when he stops by their apartment to retrieve a ledger he left behind from bringing home to balance it before leaving for his afternoon work before leaving again. Only the gift will be waiting for Petra to discover it. Much as he enjoys waiting to see someone's reaction to his plans, waiting on this particular one feels a bit too much for him.
Of course, when he returns home for the night later and finds a gift matching what he'd given in more ways than one, a confirmation there was nothing to worry about after all - he'll be nothing short of thrilled. ]