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The rustle of clanking iron, steel, silverware and whispered chatter had long since died down by the time Dimitri retired to his tent. He and the others had sat fireside for hours prior arguing about strategy, a stain of fear and exhaustion on all of their faces. They knew what had to be done. But this war had gone on for so long, and so many things had changed. Weeks seeming like years...years like decades. Their spirits were worn down only to shadow, but it was that ghost of hope, elusive and yet something they all knew was present, that drove them forward.
In the darkness, he slouched on his cot, his long hair hanging forward, unpinned. He was still fully dressed in armor, something he rarely took off these days. The moon was high in the night sky, he could see in blue light even inside the tent, beyond his enclosure crickets were silenced and still. Alone. There was only the distant burble of the river nearby and his own respiration, a sound that made him anxious. In ways, it felt unfair...that he still had hot breath in his lungs...feeling in his hands and lips…something his father didn’t have. Something Rodrigue had recently lost. Something he’d hungrily taken away from others. Who was it that even gave it or took it away? The person who’d swung swords blind with anger wasn’t even who he was anymore. Where did that man come from? Maybe it was the stillness of the night or the recent overflow of forgiveness and sacrifice that had been gifted to him, but his soul was suddenly heavy with the need for prayer.
“Goddess,” he whispered, his voice small and wavering. “Why me? Why’d I have to see them die...why did you let me become the monster I was only yesterday. Help me understand. If you can do anything, why’d you let hatred into my heart? There are so many other people who’d make a better leader.”
He breathed in shakily, his arms wrapping around himself. “I don’t know if I can do this...to make things right…show me something...some sort of sign...let me know there’s some sort of control….not….not just chaos...” tears began burning in the corners of his good eye as he laughed once, quietly.
The ragged scar where his eye once was still felt the pain of the tears underneath the leather patch, as if it was still trying to release them. He knew there wouldn’t be an answer on the breeze of this late spring night. He wanted to believe that the goddess was there. But he’d seen too much. It was time to sleep. He knew he wouldn’t tonight.
Wait. There was a rusting of grass just outside the tent flap. Dimitri flew to his feet and tore his dagger from it’s casing. His hands fisted with adrenaline, his heart ice cold: the only response his body seemed to know lately. The noise stopped. The tips of his ears burned, radiating, trying to try to hear more. Who was watching post tonight? Were they dead? Was someone here to kill him after murdering them? His mind raced: kill, kill, kill them! Survive!
“Your Highness. Might I request entry?”
Dimitri’s blood rushed from his face as his apprehension dissipated. Dedue. Of course, it was just Dedue. He’d been overseeing post positions...everything was fine...cold sweat lingered on his shaking hands as he sheathed the dagger.
“Come in, Dedue.” He sniffed and composed himself, blinking away at any lingering emotion.
The tent flap opened with the bristle of treated canvas and Dedue entered, his tall frame bending down. He was carrying something in his arms, a large copper bowl filled with water. Inside the bowl was a ladle with a wooden handle that had obviously been well-used. The water sloshed as he gently bowed. Small blue petals fluttered on the water's surface, black onyx in the covered moonlight.
“I humbly thank you for entry, Your Highness.”
“Of course. I won’t lie in saying that you didn’t give me a start, old friend.”
Dimitri could see Dedue wince just slightly at the term of endearment. Perhaps it was too soon after all that had happened. Too close after so many years. What were they now? Strangers, then?
Dimitri gestured to the bowl with a slight smile.
“What are you doing? Cooking? In the middle of the night? That would be like you.”
“It is not for cooking,” Dedue stood upright, his mouth ever straight, almost robotic. “It is for purification. My people...in Duscur... this was a tradition we had before a time of trial. Before men enter battle, before women give birth, when children are ill, someone is to wash them with Grass Petal water. Grass Petal is very important to us. It only blooms at night. It only grows in places where…” His eyes averted, looking specifically away from where Dimitri’s dagger hung across his chest. “Where blood once was spilled.”
Dimitri’s mouth twitched as he looked away. He turned his back to Dedue.
“This is a difficult night, Your Highness.”
“Dedue…I-”
“A man should not suffer alone.”
“I-I don’t know. I don’t-” Dimitri swallowed. His heart was shelled by grief, regret. Deep, searing sorrow. He knew what the man standing before him had endured. And at his hand. “I don’t deserve that, Dedue. Something so sacred to your people.”
“I will not force you to participate,” he set the bowl on a nearby wooden desk, one that Dimitri used in studying battle plans. “But I will say one thing, if I may.”
Dimitri remembered this...how Dedue would ask him for permission to speak. As if he had any more authority over a man of pure intention and pure heart.
“Dedue, please speak freely.” I beg you.
“You are a man who has done things he regrets. All men have done things we regret. Men of honor move forward, remembering their regrets, but not being tied down by them. They extend compassion because of their mistakes. They have chosen their pain. There is a purpose behind it. That is the lesson of Grass Petal.”
Dimitri’s inner chest wrenched as the men stood in silence for a few seconds. He felt suddenly as if he could vomit.
“Forgive yourself, Your Highness. What happened to me. It could not be helped. I chose it freely. And I am alive.”
“What then, Dedue?!” Dimitri shrunk back at the sudden appearance, again, of unbridled emotion and reeled it in, putting a hand over his mouth. What can I do to make it right?
“Your Highness, I have nothing in my heart but a desire to fulfill a kindness shown to me. To honor it. So, if I may, I would be honored to proceed with a ceremony that brings distinction to My Lord.”
Dimitri was conflicted. He still didn’t feel as if he deserved it, yet he didn’t want to disrespect him with a rejection. This man was here at his bedside in one of his darkest hours...one of his only friends. Dimitri turned to face him. His crystal eyes stared back, earnest to receive his trust.
“That’s fine, Dedue. Go ahead. What do I need to do?”
“Thank you, Your Highness. Before we begin, you will need to remove your armor and any coverings made with the intention to protect. It is a representation of our vulnerability. If I may?”
Dimitri remembered this routine. Dedue removing, cleaning, and hanging his armor and royal emblems before sleeping. He always tried to follow him to help him bathe as well, a cultural difference between them, upon which Dimitri always kindly declined. The thought of those times...so simple…
“Please, I’d be honored.”
Dimitri lifted his arms as he’d done out of habit so long ago. Dedue placed the bowl on the ground gently and proceeded to untie the fastenings of his armor one by one. Dedue’s fingers were large, but methodic and deliberate. Nothing he did was ever harsh. He even smelled the same...a dusty, smoky smell...a human smell of sweet earth and salt.
Dimitri’s dagger unhitched with the heavy clinking of the buckle.
“There aren’t any places to hang it anymore...not like before...just leave it next to the cot on the ground. I’ll just wipe it down in the morning. Oh yeah,” Dimitri laughed softly, once through his nose, “There’s one thing that isn’t the same, isn’t there?”
“My Lord?”
Dimitri pointed at his eye covering.
“Might I remove it? I wish to honor your privacy and scars can be personal to a man.”
“You can. It’s just very...different than before.”
“Many things have changed, Your Highness.” Dedue’s face drew close to Dimitri’s to untie the lacing of his heavy furred cape. It fell, the release of it causing Dimitri’s body to feel instantaneously lighter.
Dimitri nodded slowly and grimly. “It’s just a reminder of someone I never want to be again.”
Dedue spoke suddenly and with weight.
“I believe a man is whole. As he was and as he is and as he will be.”
Dimitri glanced up at him, eyebrows stitched. Their eyes met.
“Wow? Talking back? That’s unlike you,” Dimitri’s mouth curled up in a smile.
“It is my duty to keep My Lord’s name from being sullied. So, if I hear words against him, I speak. And when I hear words against an eye, I cannot say aye.”
Dimitri’s stern mouth softened as a laugh escaped through his nostrils.
“That joke was terrible.”
“I remember your sense of humor well, Your Highness.”
Dedue’s mouth didn’t exactly smile, but Dimitri could see in his eyes that he was humored as he gently tucked his fingers under the leather strap against his head and slipped it off over his long, golden hair. He stood before Dedue in just linen pants, the scars on his biceps and pectorals. It was a body hardened by violence and survival.
His bad eye felt even more obvious, exposed to the air, stretching and tugging against itself. Dimitri breathed in deeply, embarrassed.
“Well..now you’ve seen it. I bet you’re curious as to how it happened.”
“Your Highness, this is your domain. You do not have to say or do anything you do not wish to do.”
“It’s just...I-I don’t really want to say it,” Dimitri breathed out. “Huh.”
“Yes, Your Highness?”
No...it’s just surprising. That I still have pride.”
“I will say again, My Lord. A king deserves this sort of dignity. And a vassal’s duty is to honor it. ”
Another painful twinge inside Dimitri’s chest, an adrenaline.
“So, what’s next?”
“You will lie down.”
“What, like this?” Dimitri obeyed, his forearms propping him up on the cot.
“Hang your head over the edge, if you could, Your Highness. The water will be pouring out over you and onto the ground.”
Dimitri shifted accordingly, if a bit apprehensively.
“Alright.”
“Thank you, My Lord. I will begin. The ritual begins with a traditional Duscurian song and then with the ladle I will wash your head. It will end with combing out your hair and washing your hands, then your feet. I will guide you.”
Dimitri’s neck hung limp as strands of thin gold hair grazed the tips of grass at the bottom of his cot. He felt a bit silly, like a child being about to be bathed, but he tried to surrender to the peace Dedue’s presence brought. His song was a deep, undulating hum. The sounds of the words were fluid and melodic. so unlike the blunt, angular language of the Church. He wondered if Dedue had ever prayed and if so, if it had sounded anything like this. Dimitri could hear the water sloshing as he assumed Dedue stirred it. The song was a quiet, repetitive power...similar to a rolling thunder amidst rain. A comfort. Dimitri closed his eyes and his whole face relaxed. Every muscle.
Dedue drew closer to him, the crunching of grass on his bare feet, and then knelt softly and slowly. His song paused. The only noise was of Dedue’s gentle breathing and of the water sloshing over Dimitri’s head and then onto the ground. It was ice cold on his scalp, but had a slightly herbaceous scent. Dedue continued this, the metal of the ladle scraping against the bowl, the ice cold water, sound of it hitting the ground. Dimitri could do nothing but focus on this moment. But be fully here and fully present.
His song began again, quieter this time, as Dimitri felt the prongs of the wooden comb rake through his hair. His follicles tingled deliciously at the tension. Every now and then the comb would stop at a knot, at which Dedue would work at gently without tugging, until it ran smooth again. Dimitri relished in it. When had he ever been touched with tenderness like this…? Whores had been there to provide explosive and hungry pleasure to various parts of his body...but this simple act was serene and spiritual. It fed a primal part of him that he didn’t know was hungry. Dedue ran his fingers along Dimitri’s scalp, massaging it gently, and then gathered his hair, twisting water from it. He did this several times until the water was no longer soaking wet and Dimitri’s hair was damp.
Dedue breathed in deeply then exhaled slowly as his song ended.
Dimitri’s eye fluttered open. He looked over to see Dedue kneeling beside him with eyes closed in prayer, the bowl resting beside him. He was bare chested, at some point having removed his clothing. Dimitri had seen the scars on his face, but had no idea that his body also had deep ragged scars, lighter brown against his sienna skin. His body too was sculpted by discipline...a discipline driven by survival. Dimitri wondered what pain that body concealed. What hurts had been pushed away. Who this man had forgiven. Had he ever resented him? O-or perhaps...ever...
“Your Highness,” Dedue spoke quietly.
“Y-yes?”
“The ceremony is not yet complete. But, there is something I wish to say to you.”
Dimitri turned to his side, cradling his head, attentive. Dedue was not a man who spoke of his feelings and he wanted to hear him closely.
“I’ve told you before, speak freely with me. Please, consider me a friend. Here.”
Dimitri got up and sat beside him in the grass. Dedue seemed hesitant, that his Lord would sit in the dirt beside him, but didn’t move.
“Continue,” Dimitri whispered. Dedue’s hands were fisted and tight in his lap, resting on his thighs.
“There were nights in prison where I despised my own life. Where I wished that I had not failed in the ways that I had. In Duscur it is not without honor to take one’s own life if a man has lost meaning. I had felt the same way once before...in the sleepless nights after the razing of my people...”
Dimitri swallowed, clenching his teeth.
“In those nights I recalled a legend that my mother once told me. That there was in the beginning two spirits born of the sun and of the moon who found themselves wandering. Lost without a body. Twin spirits. Their purpose was to meet, to join as one. They were created as equals but were to join as one to create the first being.”
“I thought to myself, why do I not lay in the grave with my mother? Why do I live? Why do I wander as the first spirits did?” Dedue sat in silence for a moment, his mouth ever grim. “I think the reason was so that I could find my way back to my twin spirit. To find my way back to you, My Lord. You are a king, Your Highness. And I am meant to be by your side to protect you until the end. I am not afraid of death. There is nothing else I believe.”
Dimitri listened intently, watching Dedue’s soft gray-blue eyes open slowly.
“That is all I wish to say.”
The hardness of Dimitri’s sorrow and regret began melting away as if a flame had been held up to wax. The empty void inside him filled once again with warmth and humanity. Here was a man who trusted him. Who had gone to prison for him. Who would die for him.
Vengeance...death...was something he’d grown accustomed to. The terrible, warm smell of freshly spilled blood sticky on his hands; he’d grown numb to the feeling of metal meeting flesh and bone. Those were the workings of something inhuman. The actions of a beast. Empty. If Dedue died for him tomorrow, amist what needed to be done, would he be able to bear it? Dimitri didn’t want death anymore. He just didn’t want any part of it. He was just so tired of war. Another loved one lost...
“Wh-” Dimitri felt breathless. “Dedue, don’t say things like that.”
“It is sincere, Your Highness.”
“You don’t know what I’ve done. I’m not someone worth giving a life over for.” Not again. Not like Rodrigue.
“I know who you are.”
Dedue looked straight into Dimitri’s gaze. Dimitri felt a burning deep in his being at the passion behind his eyes. A desire that was surprising and overwhelming. He was completely vulnerable in his presence. Buried deep within him was more than a bestial hunger, it was a gentle calling. A craving to be loved. A craving to give himself over to someone else. To surrender to peace. Being so close to Dedue’s powerful body had an electric effect on him. His lips suddenly looked soft and ready to give. He wasn’t sure what was happening. His head was spinning out of control.
“Dedue...I….”
Dedue unclenched his fist.
I want to draw closer. I want you near me.
“I didn’t think I would ever forgive myself. For failing you. For giving you up that day. I lost myself when I lost you. I didn’t realize how much I needed you. More than just as protection, more than as a vassal. As my closest ally…”
Dimitri’s hand hovered over Dedue’s. Dedue took his open hand and grasped it gently. Dimitri relished in the warmth of Dedue’s broad hand over his. He looked up at Dedue...his face inches from his, his silver hair brushed to one side, hanging freely.
“Do you understand?”
That you’re someone I love.
“I understand, Your Highness. I feel it...our spirits calling out to one another. The dark spirits that move in the night. Spirits trying to stop us,” His voice was small and reverent. Dedue grasped Dimitri’s hand tighter.
Dimitri pleaded, “Let’s put aside formalities and rituals and the weight of all this. Please. Let us just be here for one another.”
“My Lord...I…” Dimitri knew that Dedue would still be bound by his value of duty. He knew who he was. A beautiful and kind man who wished to repay a debt. But there was so much more to him. He wanted to undress this frontage and fully explore him, as a spirit and as a physical man.
“Like this…” Dimitri drew closer, slipping his hand up Dedue’s forearm, his bicep, over valleys of scarring and smooth taut skin, then up beneath his chin, cupping his face, fingers grazing the buzz of his hair.
“Like this...you see…” He looked at Dedue’s lips before tilting his head and placing his on them tenderly. Dedue’s lips were rough, warm, and dry. Energy surged throughout his body, his blood hot and blinding.
Dedue didn’t draw back at the kiss. Instead, his hand reached up and with a gentle grasp, held to Dimitri’s wrist. His breath was heavier through his nose.
“Dedue...I-”
Dedue looked down, his lips twitched. Dimitri’s body was set alight, popping white vision behind his eyes. He couldn’t believe he’d just done that...shit...shit..
“Dedue...is this what you meant? I-I just don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Dedue breathed in steadily,
“T-this is what I wanted, My Lord. But I am afraid. I am afraid that you will be taken in sacrifice if I follow my desires. I-I should take my leave. I do not know if I can control myself.”
This man? Afraid? Dimitri could almost laugh. He’d taken down legions with his mere tank-like body strength alone. But, there was more to him than that. Dimitri knew that.
They both hung there, suspended, the night beyond them just as still as it had been an hour before.
I know, Dimitri thought, I’m scared too. The Goddess is reckless and merciless. But this is all we have.
Dedue shifted his weight, attempting to stand. Dimitri grabbed him hard at the wrist.
“Don’t leave.”
Dedue looked deep into Dimitri’s with his mouth parted.
“Please,” Dimitri found himself nuzzling at Dedue’s neck, whispering against it. “If this is what you want…please...just take it…”
The two men drew back.
“My Lord…”
Dedue’s voice...its deep rumble reaching its way to the marrow of his bones.
Then.
Dedue kissed him. First a soft, wet nudge against his lips, then again harder, surer, his whole body leaning into his. He hummed through his nose as Dimitri reciprocated with a grip around his waist. Dedue grasped the back of his head with his large hand, Dimitri’s hair still damp. With every motion of his tongue Dimitri could almost hear him firmly commanding him,
Let me hold you, let me show you, let me give you everything.
There’s nothing to fear here.
You’re free.
“Dimitri…”
Dimitri felt his spirit break free in relief at the sound of his name. He wasn’t his superior anymore, he wasn’t his lord. They were lovers. Equals.
Dedue gently lowered him to the ground, the wet earth and the smell of grass. The ground beneath them fertile and soft. Dimitri could feel Dedue’s hard cock press against his inner thigh as their legs entangled. He’d undressed earlier and was there before him, his large penis veining and bulging, his thick tuft of white public hair, the beautiful undulations of his body. Dimitri was pinned against him, kissing him deeply, then moving to his neck and clavicle, deliberately and tenderly. Dedue’s broad hand stroked Dimitri’s torso, grabbing at his waist. His breath was hot through his nose. Dimitri’s cock strained against the linen pants he was still wearing, needing, craving.
He turned and sat straddled, his knees against Dedue’s rib cage. He drew close to Dedue’s ear and whispered, smiling playfully.
“Let me serve you this time, Vassal.”
Dedue smirked slightly, the only sort of smile Dimitri had ever seen him give. He suddenly remembered that smile from Garreg Mach...one of coy pride when he’d serve Dimitri a dish he’d made. He’d loved him then too, hadn’t he? Amidst the chime of the church bells...his voice.
Then Dimitri moved downward. His rippling back muscles were shadowed in pale white-blue moonlight. He began by sucking softly on the tender buds of Dedue’s brown nipples, then down his abdomen...closer and closer. Dedue hummed, almost as rhythmic as the song he’d been singing earlier, as he worked. Dimitri’s body was covered in goosebumps, his whole body throbbing.
Dedue slipped a finger under the string that held Dimitri’s pants to his waist, and tugged them down gently, revealing a sparkling stark of blonde pubic hair and then freeing his taut cock from its confines with a slight spring. Dedue let out what sounded like a quiet growl at the sight of it. He was aching too. He lay his head against the socket of Dedue’s hip and stroked gently at it with the back of his scarred pale hand, admiring. The soft touch had Dedue’s toes tingling. His silver strands of hair were tossed across his forehead, uncharacteristically, in disarray.
Dedue reached his hands behind his head, elbows pointed upward, as Dimitri began working his cock with his mouth; it was glistening, slippery, and wet. He breathed in, sucking, fondling, stroking. Wanting so badly to give.
Dedue let out a single breath of ecstasy. A hunger being satisfied by someone who knew exactly what he wanted. Dimitri only grew more feverish at the tension of Dedue’s large and potent body, his golden hair hanging against his noble brow. Dedue grabbed it in a fistful as Dimitri sucked at him more deeply, Dedue’s eyes closing, his mouth parting, primal need for urgent sex overtaking over him like a forceful waterfall against rock. Dedue’s hips arched in thrusted rhythm relishing in the warm alcove of Dimitri’s throat.
This too, like the Grass Petal, was a beautiful thing, an expression, a part of life. Simple pleasure, surrender, give and take.
“Hmmn,” Dimitri moaned gutturally, his breath hot against Dedue’s cock as he withdrew, his red, wet tongue swirling against the glistening head, his mouth wide open, saliva dangling from it in threads. The intensely sexual sight of it drew Dedue near to bursting. He had no idea how good he looked.
“I am sorry, I cannot take it anymore. Please, My Lord. I need your body.”
Dimitri too had an urgent need. One to be utterly penetrated. Demolished. Reborn. To serve and to give his lover what he wanted.
“I’m here for you,” he whispered, his mouth thick with slaver, dazed.
Dedue got up as Dimitri waited on his knees, his ass resting against his heels. Dedue knelt behind him and grazed the back of Dimitri’s neck with his fingers, twisting at damp baby hairs...one hand at Dimitri’s throat, gently wrapping around it, the other hand running his fingers down his back and then fondling his taut asscheek. His fingers inched closer...spreading it apart.
“I do not want this to hurt you, so I will go slowly.”
Dedue bent Dimitri over, his calloused, hard hands at his waist, and then tenderly ran his thumb over his asshole. His cock twitched in anticipation. It was painfully erect at this point. In Duscur, it was not uncommon to pleasure one’s wife or husband in this way. It was the ancient wisdom of pleasure centers. Where humankind’s energies were most pent up, where they needed to be released to breathe out, to clench then relax. He wanted to show Dimitri this. To give him something he’d never had before. He wanted to hear his moaning...his release...
“Inhale,” Dedue whispered against Dimitri’s ear. His hair smelled clean and floral, his ears were cold against his lips. Dedue took his member and pressed into him, slowly, and then more...deeper...
Dimitri let out a small gasp.
“Is this alright?” Dedue checked.
“Ah, mmhm,” Dimitri affirmed after assessing, “I-It feels a bit strange, but so deep... I think I’ll be fine if we go slowly.”
Dedue felt the warm ring of Dimitri’s body clench against his, his hip bones underneath his fingertips. Almost unbearably tight. He ached to thrust. So he did. First one slow thrust. Dimitri’s hair hung in his eyes, his fingers splayed out among the blades of grass, gripping at earth. He thrusted again, again, again, huffs of throaty exertion escaping his lips as he relished in it, hearing the dull, quiet slap of skin on skin. Dimitri looked back at him, soft winces escaping his lips. Dedue, upon hearing the deep whimpering, withdrew as gently as he could and erupted. Cum cascaded onto Dimitri’s back, Dedue’s surging in ragged breaths.
Dimitri too, crumpled as Dedue saw him rush to catch his own cum in his hands. Dedue caught him by the abdomen so that he didn’t fall face first into the dirt. Both men sat breathing heavily for a moment, catching their breath, before Dimitri let out a breathless and quiet staccato of laughter as he lowered his hands to the ground, wiping them on the grass.
“What did we just do, Dedue?”
Dedue could hear the smile in his question. He gently turned him over and lay him back onto the ground, his hair tossed to one side in disorder, his scarred eye white, his hands open...released...
“You look so beautiful like this, My Lord.” Dedue spoke softly, a bit breathlessly. He was in awe. “Without duty. Without pain.”
Dimitri leaned into his warm, calloused hand. He kissed his fingers.
“Thank you. Thank you for giving me this gift, Dedue.”
“I could not let you go alone. I could not let you go without you knowing. I will always be here for you. My deserving King. No matter what tomorrow brings. I will be here to help you ease your burden. To mirror to you that you are worthy of love.”
A tear formed at the corner of Dimitri’s eye, which Dedue brushed away with his thumb.
Dedue lay next to him and then, with both arms, drew him as close as he could to himself in a tender embrace. Their naked bodies were woven together, two ships voyaging into uncharted waters, two ships tethered to one another, two ships to never drift from one another again.