Chapter Text
Dimitri should have known that his steps would be tracked down by his once-beloved professor.
Byleth had always been keen to detect other people’s whereabouts; she had always been fast enough to encounter her target.
Seems the prince would have to deal with one last obstacle before finally marching towards Enbarr, to meet his fate in this cold and cruel night; however, the goddess seemed to gift him with comical entertainment by giving him the spectacle of Byleth trying to make him stay.
His lone blue for a moment stopped shunning a distant light, his focus grounded on the sight of his professor’s luscious locks becoming damp with this unforgiving rain; his chest rumbled as he allowed himself to laugh, finding her words pitiful and cynical almost.
She spoke of forgiving himself, that he had suffered enough.
“Live for what you believe in.” Her voice was stoic, as usual; yet the way her lips almost slurred those words out seemed to hold more meaning than just a faulty attempt to make him stay.
Those words struck directly into the abyss of his mind, pounded a foreign warmth unto his chest and hardened heart.
Humanity creaks back in, and it's overwhelming.
“I am a murderous monster. My hands are stained red. Could one such as I truly hope for such a life?” He snarls as the sky kept weeping over him. Murky, blond hair sticking further down his cold and afflicted expression.
“As the sole survivor of that day, do I… Do I have the right to live for myself?” He questions softly as Byleth kept staring at him.
Dimitri stares at her extended hand when she offered it, his weak and tired blue eye marveled at how her skin seemed to resplendence in this eerie night.
How many times has Byleth been offering her hand like this?
He recalled the times she would extend her support when he would fail to best her in a duel; his young heart faltering at the notion of being touched by her while she gave the faintest but generous of smiles. It's unavoidable for misery to come by again, the memory of her outstreched hand as she fell through a rift in the battle to defend Garreg Mach more than five years ago.
Her eyes full of terror as he failed to reach her in time, and that broken scream as she fell... it was enough to perturb his ears and cloud almost all vision as he ignored the presence of the mythical creature being overwhelmed by beasts.
Five years of misery, slowly slipping between his fingers as Byleth holds on.
“Your hands are so warm…have they always been?” He accepts the offer, only to be surprised when Byleth held his large and cold hand with both of hers.
The prince recalls that moment in the goddess tower only a few months ago, how she seemed to be a saint instead of a torturous soul under the sun’s warm light and sparkling dust specks. How her hand seemed to gleam almost with an ethereal aura, much like her skin appears to be now.
Memories overcome him. She extended her hand in every battle even when he rejected them every single time; how sometimes she held food or medicine to offer more than just a touch.
“Professor, what am I supposed to do? I have made countless innocents die. I have murdered even more…what can I hope to say that could amend all that I have destroyed and lost?” He questions a little shaky, even more broken. “What am I supposed to do with all this hatred and regret?”
His breathing hitches as she moved closer to him, gently cradling his face instead to make him lower himself. A hot breath escapes him, allowing an almost eternal sigh to finally leave his throat as Byleth gently hugged him; tenderly warming him up.
“You must accept that these feelings will always be inside of you, Dimitri” She gently spoke, her fingers would loosely pass through his hair, avoiding the knot of his eyepatch. “You can’t allow regret and hatred be the only feelings to guide your words and actions however. Deep down, I know that your heart hosts love and empathy in it; honor and justice.”
“Your life is your own, allow for your heart to guide you.” She continued, “To feel is alright…to be alive is reasonable…to be yourself is acceptable.”
His shivering frame soon gives in, wrapping his arms around her as he allows himself to weep against her shoulder; for his faults and sins to be washed away if only for a moment by his tears and the rain.
The prince can’t understand nor shake away the gut-twisting emotion of helplessness and confusion from his stomach; the sensation only growing worse when his sobbing was not only his.
Her weeping was softer and more reserved, but it was still powerful; it was stronger than the roar of the rain and the screeches of the faraway thunder.
For a moment, he felt all sensations blurring with each other; even as she finally let go of him, there was something different; in both of them.
Dimitri wouldn’t question it, only allow himself to feel. Melting and becoming soft as she held his hand gently while walking away from the rain; the destination unimportant as he could only concentrate on her hold.
Arianrhod was seized and re-purposed for the kingdom’s army.
Dimitri had failed to capture Hubert, but now they had more troops to march towards Derdriu; hopefully, they would reach Claude in time.
The road back to the monastery was filled with high spirits, so it came to no surprise for the prince that a feast was being held to celebrate their victory. Dimitri allowed himself to smile as he signed a few leases and wrote a few requests for back up in the office that Gilbert provided for him here in Garreg Mach.
That his friends were celebrating brought him peace, but much like in Fhirdiad, he felt unworthy of dwelling with them too long.
Dimitri would simply not attend this banquet.
He casually blew out the candle on his desk, stretching softly before finally walking out and immersing himself in a quiet hall. His whole body felt stiff, and the weariness of his eye didn’t help much with the sense of exhaustion that invaded him. A gentle yawn ended up escaping, not even attempting to cover it since he simply needed his jaw to stop feeling so stiff.
A set of steps alerted him of someone coming, but it was too late for his yawn to stop. His sole blue met with the professor’s features; his cheeks slightly warming up while his heart exhilarated.
“Oh…” He mutters, trying quickly to think of a proper greeting for her. Byleth seemed unfazed by the coldness and ruthlessness of war; she always had a poise expression while a certain intricate and raw beauty coexisted in all her being.
She has always been mysterious and charming; her aloofness and certain reservation always managed to catch his attention, even when he was just a hopeless student pining on his amazing professor.
Now that the prince was allowing himself to feel and live for his own wants, so many emotions from the past were resurfacing at the same time; overwhelming him and clouding his already dubious judgment as they crashed with the newer sensations.
“It’s you.” Dimitri finally finishes his sentence, already wishing to hide himself in the study again for such a horrible greeting.
“Isn’t this a rare sight…” Byleth teases, smiling tenderly at him while being amused at his evident fluster. Her smile eventually fades as Dimitri forces himself to have a steady posture; followed by his words of praise and gentle encouragement for them to continue working together.
Byleth forces herself to blink as their gaze meets, always a tender and mellow sentiment brewing in her chest the longer she sees her reflection in his lonely sapphire; getting distracted whenever heavy blond eyelashes flicked.
Soon enough, she was forced to chide him for overworking himself; only to get overwhelmed by another report of the situation; her attention centered on him again when he stressed the word ‘atonement’, but also because he actually questioned her presence in this hall.
“I intend to steal you away to the victory celebration.” Byleth smiles again, her cheeks warming up as they recall together their time together back in their academy days; how Dimitri was the one to drag her into the Blue Lion’s celebration by offering his arm for her to take.
Times surely have changed.
Despite the prince’s hesitance at first, Byleth is quick enough to convince him to join into the merriment of it all. She ends up slowly blinking a few times as Dimitri emphasizes of joining the dining hall together; her toes slightly curling as he offers his arm.
Never mind, there are a few things that can still stay the same.
Or not.
“I was hoping you would join me for a short stroll before arriving to the dining hall?” Dimitri prompts as his cheeks feel warmer by the second, trying to keep his focus centered to make his stance not quiver after boldly offering his arm.
Dedue warns him that he still acts rash, and the prince can’t deny his observation.
Byleth stared at his arm perhaps rather too long, since she silently observed how the prince tried to retrieve his offer; on impulse she lunges forward and holds him, making them walk before the prince can say another word.
“Sorry, I lost track of time.” The professor stated boldly, appreciating how Dimitri seemed to not recover his balance fast enough as her arm was wrapped around his waist; his body feeling manageable as she dragged them through the dark corridor. “It’s not appropriate for me to hold the noble prince of Faerghus by the arm, our relationship may be mistaken with something more intimate.” Another stoic answer, her fingers digging a little deeper into his armor.
“I—I see.” Dimitri tried not to squeal, keeping his voice steady even if his steps were still tumbling. How was this more appropriate?
However, the prince wouldn’t protest. He could wrap his arm around her shoulders, sharing part of his cloak as they eventually lost themselves in jolly conversation; their bodies matching as perfect puzzle pieces the longer they walked.
Still, Dimitri’s heart felt invaded by sudden coldness.
Would the professor be truly offended if they were mistaken by lovers?
Is the professor courting someone?
Did he still have a slim chance of having a future where Byleth may be his beloved?
In a few days, the kingdom’s troops would march towards Derdriu.
Soldiers could be seen training since dawn; while workers and clerics could be found revising and managing supplies.
However, everyone’s attention would shift slightly whenever Byleth would make her presence; either to deliver a new order or to assist with a present task. The professor brought always certain tranquility with her, something about her appearance not changing in the slightest made those around her hope that after the war ends, they could also remain heavily unscathed.
Dimitri would often hear comments on how Byleth seemed to be the goddess’s way to input her help unto this ravaged world; some would even dare to compare the professor with Saint Seiros.
The prince couldn’t truly blame their thoughts, once upon a time he too deemed Byleth a saint; hell, he sometimes believes in this present time for her to be a goddess instead; a reachable entity that always extends a kind hand, or a cold swing of her blade to pass on a swift judgment.
However, he would keep those thoughts to himself; they were pointless and somewhat childish, taking into consideration the root of his recent admiration for Byleth. There was no point trying to hide it any longer, he wished to be able to court the professor; the amorous sentiments brewing in him could no longer be restrained despite war times were not meant to have romance and merriness in them.
Sylvain would constantly tease Dimitri, that despite everything the prince was still a pointless romantic that was caught just pining on his professor all over again.
That had to change. Dimitri was determined for his feelings to be acknowledged, even if he has to face rejection or perhaps disgust.
At the moment, the prince was sharing a warm conversation with Sylvain, taking a small respite after they left one of Ingrid’s seminars.
“Well your highness, despite that I would enjoy teasing you in the notion that your love holds no chance of being successful; I’m actually very certain that your feelings would be corresponded positively if you play your cards right.”
“Play…my cards right?” Dimitri tuned off slightly, his eyebrows furrowing as he took a more pensive stance. He felt his cheeks growing hotter by the minute, but he would need to withstand the heat a moment longer. “I don’t understand what cards have to do with me trying to court Professor Eisner, but go on.” His eye sparkled sudden hope, “Ah, unless. You mean to say I need to invite the professor for a game of chess?”
Sylvain shook his head, holding in a snort. “Not…quite.” He rubbed his nose lightly, a sly smile adorning his face now. “Though inviting the professor out is a very good step. Just try not to discuss political things or reports for the upcoming mission; free time should be spent in trying to know each other, drift away from responsibilities. Catch my deal?”
He nods “A game of chess might be interesting, but perhaps the professor would find more enjoyable not having to think of strategies or units in her free time as well.” His voice became a little adamant, “Keep things simple. Just invite her for a cup of tea.”
Dimitri listened closely, taking in all his friend’s feedback. “I see.” He nodded, solemnly. “Would she truly just accept a cup of tea if I don’t suggest exchanging morning reports or the status of our ranks?”
“I remember she used to chase you all around the monastery to invite you for some tea when we were much younger.” Sylvain teased, “Surely you two spoke more than just about our classes. Right?” He raised an eyebrow, “Right?”
Sylvain ended up groaning and then sighing when Dimitri remained quiet. “You’re quite clueless your highness, and don’t really catch cues…”
“Cues…?” Dimitri tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow. Flayn had told him the same thing, and he still didn’t understand what she meant; he doesn’t understand Sylvain’s point either.
A set of steps forced Dimitri and Sylvain to cut short their conversation, both of them caught in awe when Felix was making his way towards them; by the way he stared, it appeared he had heard most of their conversation.
“You’re really asking advice from the man who can’t get a proper date?” Felix snarked; unable to avoid hearing the men that had decided to speak about this near the courtyard that used to be the Officer’s Academy. “You’re more pathetic than I thought.” A statement, staring directly at Dimitri.
“Felix!” Sylvain berated him, crossing his arms before puffing some air. “You wound me, my kind gentleman.” His voice soon became annoyed. “Tell me, what would you, the man who finds romance pointless and only a distraction from the sword, advise instead?”
“Your words lost valor a long time ago, boar.” Felix ignored Sylvain’s taunt. “It’s all about your actions now. The professor is not some flimsy noble or snobby aristocrat.” He crossed his arms, “She is a proud warrior, who carefully thinks about her every decision and each movement.”
“Hah, and that excludes her of enjoying the warmth and tenderness of a cup of tea or a love letter? You’re actually more pathetic than His highness.” Sylvain chuckled. “How on earth did Annette accept to have a date with you?”
Dimitri disconnected of everything as his friends began to bicker with each other, his concentration now centered at the image of Byleth as a whole. Sylvain’s words rang true, but Felix was right as well.
However, the prince soon understood that he was caging the professor in a simple box; assessing her like the people who deemed her a saint and those who pointed at her like a murky assassin.
“Thank you for your kind advice, if you excuse me.” Dimitri suddenly spoke, offering a short bow before walking away. Leaving his friends behind who had begun to fight on a patch of grass.
The prince’s cheeks remained flushed as he walked towards the greenhouse, hoping that Dedue would be present to assist him on arranging a bouquet that could come close in matching with the professor’s beauty; he smiled widely when he recognized his friend’s sterling armor between a few hedges of pink orchids and dark red roses.
“Good afternoon, Dedue.” Dimitri greeted kindly as he met with an earnest verdant gaze. “Pardon for interrupting you, but I have a favor to ask you.”
“Your highne—,” The vassal cut off his words, smiling instead. “Dimitri.” He nodded. “Please, don’t hesitate to ask for my assistance. How may I help you?” His voice was cordial.
The prince felt himself smiling non-stop as he spoke with his friend, rejoicing on the fact that Dedue called him by his name and also that he was willing to help him to arrange a small bouquet for the professor; Dimitri relying on his friend’s knowledge since in his younger days he never took the time to understand flower etiquette.
“Oh, these are gardenias.” The prince acknowledged as he brought them close to his face, enjoying the sweet fragrance emanating from them; quickly finding comfort.
“I am sure the professor will enjoy them,” Dedue reassured, gently motioning for the prince to hold the bouquet less aggressively. “These pink ones are gladiolus.”
Sincerity and strength, love and purity. Dimitri blushed at the message that his bouquet conveyed. “I’m hoping that shall be the case, my friend…” The prince softly sighed as he carefully inserted a single deep red carnation in the middle of everything.
Deep affection and admiration.
No, Dimitri couldn’t do it. This was too bold, almost too intimate.
His ghosts slowly began to beckon at him, mocking him for even believing he had the luxury to express his feelings; taunting him with self-loathing comments and painful slurs wishing to see him be rejected.
No. Not again.
He would ignore them, these sensations made him happy; and for so, they were valid. It was acceptable to feel this infatuated; it was reasonable for him to seek an opportunity of expressing his sentiments honorably and honestly.
“Do you happen to know where the professor is at the moment?” Dedue beckoned as he noticed Dimitri’s features turning pale. “ I may offer some insight into her whereabouts if you happen to be clueless.”
“I…” A nervous blue averted around, shame quickly crawling in his being. “I actually have no clue,” Dimitri admitted, sighing defeated soon after. “It seems I acted rashly yet again, my friend.” He cleared his throat. “It would have been more proper to first invite the professor to meet me, and then arrive with this bouquet.”
Dedue tried to hold in a laugh but failed to do so. His chortle was bountiful, the flowers around them seemed to react positively to their caretaker’s jolliness. “Do not fret, my friend.” He tuned kindly, before offering his back as he picked up a pair of scissors and kept cutting off dead branches. “I believe your arrival will be highly appreciated by the professor…”
The prince stared at his friend in awe, due to the evident amusement he just witnessed. He forced himself to breathe and blink; but before Dimitri could speak, he was interrupted yet again.
“The professor was here a few minutes ago, she came requesting a small bouquet as well,” Dedue explained. “I offered white and purple tulips, deep red and yellow roses.”
“I—I see.” Dimitri began to fret internally, wondering why the professor would request a bouquet when she had the knowledge to make one herself; in fact, she used to give flowers to everyone when they were much younger, she sometimes still does. “Is it possible for me to know the meaning of her bouquet? Or did she request discretion?”
Was his beloved professor planning to deliver a love message too?
Was he too late?
“Admiration for one’s accomplishments.” Dedue softly hummed as he explained. “Forgiveness.” A large hand gently removed a few dry leaves. “Loyalty, and…deep sorrow.” The vassal turned around, briefly meeting with Dimitri’s gaze.
Dimitri blinked, his shoulders slightly slouching. “Oh…” His voice was grave, his lips going flat.
The prince knew where to find Byleth, but now he wasn’t sure that his presence would be welcomed; visiting a family’s tomb always left a sour sting in one’s heart.
For a moment Dimitri wished to chide Dedue for accepting his request knowing the professor’s plans for today, but he soon understood that would have been childish.
“I believe your presence would be welcomed.” Dedue spoke.
“I don’t see how that can be a possibility.” Dimitri argued, “Less with this inappropriate gesture in my hand.”
“You cannot know unless you try, your highness.” The vassal picked up a watering can, moving away from the prince to attend small buds barely sprouting from the ground. “Grieving is different for everyone, perhaps the professor would find further solace if you stood beside her.” He voiced, gentle droplets of water serving as background noise to emphasize his point.
His words struck him fiercely, Dimitri’s breathing hitched soon after. Their gazes met for a moment.
After a few blinks, the prince managed to breathe and move again. “I understand.” He turned around, staring at the flowers in his hands before latching them inside his heavy cloak. “Dedue…” He offered a reverence, “Thank you.” He slowly mouthed before exiting the greenhouse, the clank of his boots slowly matching with his beating heart as he traversed through the monastery.
Dimitri felt himself chasing a beacon of light, even if he knew Byleth would be immobile at the moment. His long blond locks would follow the gentle breeze, sometimes forced to move a few hairs away from his eye to not be completely blinded.
His stomach churned once he reached the high steps that lead towards the graveyard, quickly recognizing her teal locks as they flowed with the wind’s current as well; her dark coat following the motion. Dimitri’s attention focused for a moment to the long sword plunged in the ground; the pulsing red core of the bone-edged blade glowing eerily.
As Dimitri came closer to her and the tomb that was being offered respect to, his courage would slowly leave him; all hesitation left when in a quick turn he met stoic emerald eyes; his lips curving slightly when her gaze became less frigid and more welcoming.
“Dimitri, what a pleasant surprise.” She greeted, offering a smile that could match the sun’s warmth. “Or, at least I hope for that to be the case. Has a new invoice arrived from Fhirdiad or Derdriu?” She questioned next, her eyebrows furrowing and slightly frowning.
“Not at all. Apologies for worrying you.” He frowned as well, “I just…” His thoughts scrambled all around; not finding a quick enough answer to give her. What could he say? That he simply wished to see her? That he desired to be by her side in a moment of grief?
No, all those questions were too intrusive.
All his actions are so—
“Dimitri.” She gently beckoned at him, facing her parents’ grave. “Would you stand by me? Just like all those years ago…”
The memory was brief, but the prince could recall it. Them, standing near this same grave on a cloudy day; silently staying beside her as they stared at the cold stone together; his arms serving as a fort when Byleth’s legs caved in and she began to silently cry.
The prince couldn't deny her request that time, the present wouldn't be different.
Time passed, none of them really counting the minutes as they both stared at the grave. The prince was forced to look at Byleth when he heard her shifting something in one of her pouches; his cheeks tinted themselves pink when her teeth began pulling on a bottle’s cork.
“He was a heavy drinker.” She nonchalantly explains as fizzy alcohol begins to fall on the tomb, “If he were alive, I’m sure he would boast about the war saving him from crippling debt due to how many tabs he had around.”
She sighs, her eyebrows slightly furrowing when she tilted the bottle back up. “and then apologize for his crude joke.”
Dimitri’s eyelid lowers, his lips going thin as he observes many regretful emotions on Byleth’s visage; he forces himself to look away, noting that he was being impolite. “Hm?” His nerves spark when he feels a tug on his cloak, blinking a few times when he now faces the sight of the professor sitting on the grass; silently motioning him to join her.
He gently sat beside her, now staring at her in bewilderment when she offered the bottle in her hand.
“Care to toast?” She offers.
“…Toast?” He questions, raising an eyebrow. He fights it off, but ends up smiling. “My…family has never been good with alcohol.”
“Don’t worry, it’s cheap ale. Due to your height and the thickness of your blood, you would need a few bottles of this to knock you out.” She shook the bottle slightly. “Well?”
The prince recalls how sometimes alcohol was easier to acquire than clean water in the slums, memories of fighting off rats to remove them from the unscathed barrels in abandoned basements resurfaced.
However, this drink was being offered in an open area, by a welcoming hand; in a more private and meaningful scenario.
“Thank you.” His voice was gentle as he holds the bottle carefully, concentrating fully on not shattering the fragile glass while drinking a few sips; the warmness that immediately follows feeling pleasant even if he couldn’t taste the beverage; the sting upon his tongue was pleasant.
“This scent isn’t ale, it’s…spicy rum?” He questions as he returns the bottle, blinking a few times before blushing at seeing how Byleth tilted the bottle with no restraint while she drank big gulps; his adam-apple bobbing as she carelessly cleaned the corner of her lips after sighing deeply.
“So, it’s true. You can’t taste anything…” She mumbled. “Sorry for lying to you.” A stoic apology as the bottle is set aside, now empty. Her arms rest over her knees, shifting on her sitting position a little. “That explains how you can devour Flayn’s cooking with no complaints.”
Dimitri frowns, feeling slightly tricked; he thought he was invited to share an intimate moment, but perhaps all that Byleth sought was to retrieve information from him. “If you were seeking to know more about the status of my body, you can simply ask me.”
“And risk getting an ambiguous answer, like when I ask about your eye during our tea times?” She challenges, turning to see him. “Only to go to the advice box a few minutes later and find an ‘anonymous’ inquiry on how to deal with dryness from the ocular membrane.”
She is met with silence and Dimitri’s slightly ashamed expression.
“I…don’t mean to berate you. I’m just worried about you.” She states boldly, turning to see the tomb again. “My father would be disappointed in me if I hesitated in that sense…”
“I see.” His tone is still gentle, sitting in a similar position as Byleth.
Gustave would probably turn red at seeing the future king sitting on the floor beside his tactician; somehow that thought brought him relief, but also Byleth’s bluntness and openness made him relax. “I’m terribly sorry for troubling you, it’s not my intention to lie.”
“No need to apologize…” She nods. “I asked you to stay with me in search of finding comfort, but I ended up using this moment to gain something. Being raised as a mercenary makes me an opportunist at heart.”
Dimitri’s blush now crawls to his chest, his heart beat feeling faster by the minute. “You are far from opportunistic…if that were the case, you would have abandoned this war that has no connection with you.” He explains, “You wouldn’t be willing to march our troops into Derdriu when there is no concrete reward offered by Claude.”
“You said it yourself. Our troops.” She stares at the grim on their boots, smiling. “I believe that one should fight for the world they wish to live in, this fight is mine to take as well.”
Dimitri smiled as well. She used his words against him.
Maybe she was a little, just a little, opportunistic. Her following words brought relief to him.
“I’m sure Captain Jeralt would be very proud of you, far away from disappointed. He always seemed the happiest whenever you were brought up in a conversation; always eager to invite the student council to attend your seminars and accept a meal with you.” Dimitri began, his voice was earnest and tender. “Alois would tell a few of us how sometimes he would fight with the Captain whenever their daughters came into the conversation.”
Dimitri stopped right there, feeling he was overstepping boundaries. He looked at her, making sure she was still willing to listen to his nonsense; somehow, his words could be taken as hypocritical. “Apologies, I don’t mean to…” He faltered, catching the brief exposure of raw emotion in Byleth’s features.
Her laugh was short and cynical, "Is that so..." a sound unknown to the prince's ears. The way her lips curved, how she seemed to glare at the tomb for a few moments before scoffing; everything was new for Dimitri.
“He liked you all very much. He was beyond elated when I chose to lead the Blue Lions, completely biased since he was born in Faerghus…” She gently eased him off, closing her eyes as many emotions swirled inside of her; she knows her comrades have been in this war for more than five years; understands that her father died so long ago, and yet, sometimes it feels that just yesterday she was arriving in the monastery.
It sometimes feels that it was just yesterday when her father was killed.
“He enjoyed eating Mercedes baked sweets. He would offer cheers whenever I said Annette was about to participate in a reason tournament.” She exhales, “He would laugh whenever I mentioned Sylvain getting detention for hitting on a female gambit, his eyes would sparkle when I explained how Felix and Ingrid were eager to learn his techniques from me.” She pauses, softly inhaling. “He felt proud whenever I explained how I saved some funds thanks to Ashe’s ability to haggle, he felt gratitude whenever Dedue harvested some flowers for my mother’s grave.”
Another silence, but it’s broken by her shaky exhale. “He felt contentment whenever I would flaunt about your steady improvement with the blade and how you guided your gambit sternly yet respectful.” She curled, fingers losing themselves slightly on her hair as she pushed it back; hiding her face with her knees.
“He would tease me of always buying off all the chamomile in the market…” She didn’t notice when it became so dark around her; or why her cheeks felt suddenly so damp.
“H—Happy…He was happy that I was making friends.” Her throat felt suddenly swollen, making her stutter. “F—Friends that I abandoned…” Her nose barely detected a sweet scent comforting her shivers as she began to weep. “That I failed to protect, just like him...”
Her sorrow was audible for Dimitri’s ears, her guilt evident by how hoarse she began to let out gibberish. “Friends that I have allowed to die, to get killed, to come back to die twice, thrice—" Her words ceased, but her lament continued as she allowed to be held by him; ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of his cold armor nudging her softest muscles.
“Byleth…” He tried to calm her, cursing under his breath for being unable to hold her closer as she wept against him; keeping her sealed off from the world if only for a few moments with his cloak and arms while a large hand gently passed over her head.
She was no saint or goddess, not a demon or pagan devil.
She was the master of the Creator’s Sword, the co-leader and flickering hope of the Faerghus’ army; a darling friend and stunning muse for a few in their ranks.
To him, she was everything he wished to have; someone he wished to take, a person he desired to comfort and support, to love and appreciate, to digress and find mutual understanding.
She was a young woman, with power and responsibilities that burdened deeply her soul and etched her frame with the heaviest of seams.
“Di…” She tried to catch her breath as her frame shook less, “—mitri.” A short gasp. “Dimitri…please forgive me.”
It all clicked to him, how she seemed to perfectly know what to say to him on that stormy night when he was willing to throw away his life; for everything to finally end.
“You need to forgive yourself. You have suffered enough…” He gently recited the words that were once offered to him; words that brought him back to the living and filled him with hope. “There is nothing to be forgiven, you taught me to live again…to start believing again.” A gentle whisper, silently asking forgiveness for speaking for his friends next “You are the one who brought us all the way here, always offering your hands and keeping us from falling astray.”
“Beyond crossroads and piercing through all odds. It is all thanks to you, my friend.” Dimitri continued, sensing how Byleth slowly recollected herself. “Silently sacrificing…such burdens should not fall only on your shoulders. Know that you can always rely on me.”
He offered silence next, feeling that enough had been said; perhaps too much.
“Dimitri…” Her voice was much calmer now, her body still hidden as she breathed against him; feeling reassured and almost intoxicated by the scent surrounding her; and also, by his words. “Have you…always been this warm?” Her nails gently clawed his chest plate, trying to hold on.
The prince didn’t answer to that, but his chest hitching did so for him.
“Your heart…it beats so strongly.” She mumbled; the sound seemed foreign. “So, this is how it’s supposed to sing…”
Byleth went silent after that. Dimitri looked around nervously for a few instances, but slowly parted when the professor had remained coiled for quite some time. “Professor?” He gently beckoned as the sun finally illuminated her again, his arms and cloak slowly moving away to be able to observe.
She fell asleep.
His lips went flat as he slowly trapped her in his arms again, blushing as the memory of her teal hair almost becoming white with the sun being caught in it; how her features still seemed to be ethereal despite her lower lids were slightly swollen; her cheeks and lips reddened by the pressure exerted on them.
“Please, forgive me.” He apologized as he slowly stood up, trying to keep her concealed as he gently held her with an arm; awkwardly picking up the Creator’s sword and offering a silent apology for leaving the bottle behind.
Holding Byleth and the mythical sword like this brought back memories, though he would push them aside as the prince did his best to avoid crowded passages and dwelled in corners where shadows kept them slightly hidden from passing knights.
He didn’t wish for ill rumors to befall on the professor’s name, and to take her somewhere like the infirmary would mean someone else could see Byleth in this state; betraying her trust like this was a complete negative on his book.
Dimitri thanked into the nothingness for Garreg Mach to be so barren now, even if the thought was crude.
The prince believed that allowing Byleth to rest in his room would be for the best; he could avoid being seen entering and exiting her own premises; and that way the professor could rest on clean sheets and warm blankets.
He knew well Felix’s and Sylvain’s schedules, so the professor could exit his room with no chance of getting caught.
However, what Dimitri didn’t consider at the time was where exactly would he rest; and how Byleth would react to him bringing her here.
Heavens, even his youthful self was less idiotic.
The man ended up just propping himself on a chair after removing part of his armor, endearingly staring at the sleeping woman in his bed; her body concealed and staying warm by his cloak. A heavy sigh escaped him. “If I were to leave to wait in another room, she could be startled for me bringing her here…” He mouthed to himself. “I’ll just have to apologize when she wakes up for my impertinence.”
Night time was still away, and it was highly possible that Byleth would wake up before the sun sets. Dimitri knew he was simply overreacting, but he couldn’t help it. His heart still felt like it would soar out of his body; his flesh almost craved to keep embracing her.
Her words kept pounding gently in his mind.
The longer his sole blue stared at her gentle breaths, the more a certain weariness took over him; she was comforting and pleasant to gaze upon, his body felt almost lulled by the repeated motion of her eyelashes flickering time to time.
Time seemed to pass slowly, both adults stuck in deep slumber; though one was more comfortable than the other. Teal eyelashes eventually fluttered to then reveal hazed emeralds, the professor groaning softly as she slowly sat up and tried to recognize where she was.
Her fingers lost themselves in the fabric of a cloak, blinking a few times as she recognized a wolf pelt and the insignia of the kingdom. “Dimitri?” She gently beckoned as her head turned towards the rest of the room; soon meeting with the sight of the prince loosely resting on the back of a chair, his features soft and relaxed as he seemed to be having a pleasant rest.
Connecting dots wasn’t something complicated for her, that being said, it didn’t stop her cheeks from warming up at the given implication and to the sight in front of her. “Dimi…” She stopped, smiling slightly. No, it would be a little selfish to wake him after he has such a hard time to grasp sleep.
Her steps felt guided as she left the bed, a crunch under her boot forcing her attention to face downwards. “Oh…” Byleth simply mouthed as she picked up the now slightly ruined bouquet in her hand; guilt invading her system as she recognized a few flowers.
It was a very romantic bouquet.
An ardent, passionate, and pure expression of love.
Her lips slightly twisted. She recognized the scent of these flowers; they had been present in Dimitri’s cloak when he allowed her to weep against him. Jeralt had always warned her that emotions were dangerous if not handled properly, he would probably chide her for breaking down near his tomb; in front of a royal no less.
However, another type of guilt invaded her; Dimitri seemed to be on his way to confess his affection for someone before she basically forced him to spend some time together.
Clumsily, her hands worked to fix the slightly crushed carnation, trying to rub away her boot’s mark from the white petals of the gardenias.
No, it simply wasn’t salvageable.
Why…is she feeling relief now? She just ruined someone’s opportunity to confess, to…
Byleth held the bouquet a little tighter as her eyes fell on Dimitri again. Her breathing becoming a little ragged as the soft light of dusk got caught in his golden hair; the lines across his dark shirt being enhanced by a soft orange hue that left little to the imagination.
This was torture. Byleth tried her best to keep an appropriate distance and respect between them, knowing well the future roles that await for both if they are successful in ending the war; and yet, her stale heart demanded otherwise from her every single time Dimitri came into view.
She wished to intertwine completely with his fate, to share every single victory and defeat with him; she desired to hold him close, run her fingers through his hair and not so appropriate areas as well.
She craved to embrace and kiss him, to whisper sultry words into his ear to observe his cheeks heating up; if she were lucky, maybe he would whisper something amorous and playful in return, melting her on the spot.
However, these feelings were selfish. Selfish to him and to the world. She was destined to live far beyond the lifetime of her comrades, none of those who cherished her deserved to see her trapped in an ageless body; to question and be confused further after surviving so many things.
Those thoughts didn’t matter regardless. Dimitri was in love with someone, and that was enough to keep herself in line. Her duty is to bring this war to an end, and bring prosperity to Fódlan by reforming the church from within before leaving everything behind; trusting that her comrades will do the right thing without her presence.
“Professor?”
He beckoned at her, and she almost wished to hide in his bed again. Byleth had failed to notice that she had stayed standing there awkwardly instead of leaving, staring into the nothingness as the bouquet was still trapped in her hands.
Her eyes followed the motion of him standing up, tenderly removing the weariness of his eye as he seemed to ask about her well-being; something of apologizing for bringing her into his room and that he would avoid such caddish actions in the future.
“You…” His voice was pleasant, deeper than usual. “for a moment…” She tries to keep up with it, but she can’t “brought you here…”
His voice was just so lost to her, she could only stare as his lips moved or his eye slowly blinked. Her ears buzzed while heat pooled all around, toes soon curling as the bouquet’s scent kept her restrained and entranced at the same time.
“I’m sorry.” She brusquely interrupted him, almost shoving the flower arrangement towards him. “I accidentally stepped on this. Please allow me to compensate you with the same arrangement tomorrow.” Her cheeks soon warmed up. “It seems I interjected an important moment for you, thank you for being so courteous nevertheless.”
“Oh…” He slowly mouthed, but soon allowed a breathless laugh to escape, realizing what she was offering and holding. “No, professor. This is…” His own cheeks warmed up.
His throat throbbed slightly before he found courage again; he preferred to be deemed a cad for expressing his feelings in the privacy of his room than to risk Byleth misunderstanding these flowers. “It was my mistake, for carelessly leaving them somewhere where they could be mistreated.”
“I see.” She smiles, finding amusing how he still tries to remove blame from others. “Nevertheless, I’ll make sure to bring you a replacement.” She still offered, but her eyes were now facing the sight of his hands holding hers, not truly accepting the bouquet back.
They shared a small silence, like usual. While sometimes quietude can be unnerving and uncomfortable; somehow, they both enjoy the peace and mutual understanding that comes with it.
His hands held hers a little tighter, and Byleth wished to almost go back in time.
Almost.
“Dimitri…” Byleth dared to look at him, finding so many emotions in that single blue that made her chest tighten.
She had to go back; this was irresponsible of her.
“These are for you.” He confessed, “I apologize for being importunate, but I can no longer live another day without confessing my affection for you.” A bold statement. “You, who have always guided me ever kindly and remained my ally through it all. I love you, most passionately.”
The room feels like it’s spinning, everything moves except him; a strong mast that keeps her grounded to the present.
“I wish to remain by your side, forever. Together.” He continued.
No, Dimitri doesn’t understand what forever truly entails if he remains by her side; she would probably be selfish, sharing some of her blood to him so they are forever roaming the world if they manage to stay alive.
“Please, say something…” Dimitri gently begged as he was met with an empty stare, his hold being less tight as the bouquet was finally resting in his hands.
Just let it be. Just let it be. Just let it be.
Byleth chided herself, trying to restrain the urge to simply grasp him from his shirt and pull him into a kiss; for her body to be consumed by his words.
It’s a momentary attraction, it shall fade within time.
She furrowed her eyebrows as his breathing slowed down, his stare withering her indifference.
Just a touch, just one kiss.
The bouquet fell to the ground again as her hands pulled him down, aggressively clashing her lips with his own as her gaze didn’t falter against his surprised one immediately. They puffed air together before immersing themselves into a searing kiss.
Their consciousness seemed to fade away as they could only concentrate on the sensation of their lips meeting each other for the first time; their teeth clanking together a few times that only made the hunger in them grow, searching to make their inexperience fade, together.
“Byleth…” She enjoyed how his voice tuned the name affectionately and almost breathless against her lips, how his hands kept the crook of her neck and her lower back warm. “My beloved Byleth…” He was so dulcet and endearing, contrasting his hungry tongue that soon dared to explore the insides of her mouth; challenging and taking possession of her.
There was still time, she could go back. Prevent this bond from forming. She could probably even avoid Dimitri from finding her until they are forced to march towards Derdriu.
“I love you…” A breathless repetition as he parts away from her, staring lovingly at her features. “My precious light…” He beamed with a smile, tears soon forming in his healthy eye “Please, remain by my side, always…”
Nobody is perfect, perhaps she did deserve this.
Perhaps, she could allow herself to have this after everything that has been lost.
“Please, keep kissing me…” She gently begged as their lips met anew, feeling drunk by the sensation of her lips going sore with his, sharing a smile as their arms wrap around each other to not let go any time soon.
Byleth wished to indulge herself, to indulge him.
She would deal with the consequences, later.