[FE:Fates OC] Small moments

Shiori held up the small carving she was working on, the leaves of the tree they were sitting under sending dappled shadows dancing across her hands as she turned it this way and that.
“See,” she said out loud as she ran a finger over the delicate lines of what would be the legs of a pegasus when she was done, “after you have the basic shape blocked out then you go in and start adding details.”   As she spoke she could almost hear her grandfather’s voice, echoing across soft memories of a warm afternoon not unlike this one, as he told a much younger her almost the exact same thing.  “You just have to take your time, and not rush. Work at a steady pace and you’ll get there eventually.”
“Easy for you to say,” her tall companion grumbled, “you’re already really good at...Ow!” He muttered something like a curse as he dropped the chunk of wood he’d been trying to work on and stuck his finger in his mouth.  
Shiroi stared at him for a moment then bit her lip to keep from laughing. “D..did you just manage to cut yourself again?”  
He pulled his finger out of his mouth, “don’t laugh,” he grumbled, “I’m still trying to get the hang of this!  You can’t tell me that you didn’t cut yourself a lot when you were first learning.”    Light grey eyes glared at her from under a mess of short spiky brown hair barely held in place with a band.  Somehow that look only served to make him look slightly sulky and more than a bit cute.
It was actually rather enduring, though she was sure he wouldn’t agree with that comment.
“Oh I cut myself.  A lot,”  She tucked a few strands of pink hair that the breeze had tugged free from her bun behind her ear, then set aside her own carving aside so she could grab his hand, “and when I was learning Grandfather would make fun of me each time.”
He just gave her a little grin as she examined the small cut on the meaty part at the base of his thumb. “So what messing with your student is a...family tradition?”  
“Maybe a little,” she admitted as she fished out her handkerchief and tied it loosely around his hand - covering both the cut on his thumb and the shallower cut on his palm, “but you also managed to cut yourself twice in...what? Five minutes?”  
His hand twitched a little, fingers curling slightly when her thumb brushed across the back of his wrist, but he didn’t pull away. “It was longer than that!”
“Maybe a bit longer,” she said teasingly, “but you did cut yourself right after told you not to rush.  I think you’ve hurt yourself less in battle, your highness.”
“Shiro,” he said and pulled his hand away. Not as fast as he would if he was really offended she thought, but he still shifted uncomfortably, “it’s Shiro, okay? Not...highness or Prince or Prince Shiro.  Just Shiro, okay?”  He flexed his hand, staring at the loose wrapping around it. Both of them knew that unless she made sure he went to the infirmary, he would probably just head out to do something else and forget about the cuts on his hand. It wasn’t going to kill him, but Shiori really didn’t want to take the chance that they would get infected.  She would drag him there later.  “ ‘specially someone like that you.  You don’t have to be all weird just because you figured out who my dad was.”
“...Sorry?” she said, slightly caught off guard, “I was trying to be respectful.”   Granted, it was still hard to think of the energetic young man who had bound up to her and Grandfather’s shop just to ask questions was a prince of Hoshido.  But he was, and Grandfather had always said that you had to be mindful of such people.  He had worked at the palace after all, so she had assumed he knew what he was talking about.
“Come on, you don’t have to be that formal with me,” Shiro said, “we’re friends right?”  
The words caught her off-guard and sent a flush to her cheeks.  Back home, she’d been so busy helping out her grandparents and around the town, she hadn’t really had close friends her own age.  Or at least no one that would have come right out and say it like that, without trying to ask something from her.
“ ‘Sides it sounds kind of weird to hear it,” Shiro grumbled as he continued, “and I’m not that type of guy that you need to be that respectful with anyway.”
Shiori crossed her legs and sat up straighter. “You are Prince Ryoma’s son, though.  That means…”
“And that’s what I mean!” He cut her off, “I mean,” he colored a little, “I mean, I don’t mind earning respect, but just because I have a fancy title you don’t have to act like I’m that much of a bigshot.”
She was silent for a long moment, trying to find a way to  phrase the question. “Do you really hate your title that much?” she asked at last.  It was obvious that Shiro didn’t get along with his father, or at least pretended he didn’t half the time. He had told her once  he hadn’t ever been told what his father’s actual rank was. It was something he’d been forced to discover on his own.  She understood how much of a shock that could be, but she hadn’t realized how much that had affect him.
“Yes? No? Gah!” Shiro ruffled his hair, “it’s complicated!”  He threw himself backwards on the grass, long legs stretching out.  
“Shiro?” Shiori uncurled and moved a bit closer to her. “What do you…”
“...Being a Prince is a big deal, right?” Shior lifted one his arms so that it was stretched out in front of him,  his hand held out open.  He stared past the finger, at the tree leaves over head.  “It’s supposed to be someone powerful, reliable, that can get things done.  Someone you know that you can trust, that can inspire people and really lead them.  I’m not exactly the kind of guy that can do that.  I can’t even beat Dad yet.”
Shiroi stared at him thoughtfully for a moment, then scooped up her tools and the carving she had been working on..  “Didn’t I just get telling you not to rush?” she said as she put them away and stood up.  She brushed dirt from her clothing carefully before looking up at him.   “It’s like carving - you don’t try to add everything at once.  You work on it bit by bit.  And everything you make? It’s just a little bit different.”
She held out a hand to help him up, “your father is a good goal, but you should stop trying to make your shape fit his.  You’ll be fine just finding your own.”
Shiro stared at her for a good long moment, “...that was supposed mean something inspiring, wasn’t it?”
She froze for a moment, and wondered if those had been the right words to say.  The other day Dwyeri had said she did that sometimes, trying to sound wise when she really didn’t know what she was talking about.  Was she making that mistake again?   “Umm…”
Shiro finally just laughed, “but thanks,” he said, and she felt better.  He grabbed her hand and let her help him get to his feet.  “And..sorry.  About being so pathetic in front of you.  And complaining.”
“Nothing to apologize for,” she said, because it was Shiro and the last thing she would think he was was pathetic.  “Now, come on, let’s get you treated.”
“Treated?  What? ‘Cause of this?” Shiro helpd up his wrapped hand. “It’s nothing!  I don’t have too..”
“We’re getting it treated,” she said firmly.
There was a pause. “If I go, will you come hunting with me and Kiragi?”
“...Shiro are you trying to bribe me or blackmail me?”
“Uh...yes?  No?”
Shiroi shook her head in exasperation and just pushed him back down towards where the rest of the army was camped.  Maybe she really should argue with him a little more about it, but she didn’t have the heart too.  Not when she probably would have agreed to go with him either way.  Somehow spending more time with Shiro was never a bad idea to her.