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A/N: The fic does get heavy, though nothing explicit, about the implications of Dorothea having had dubious consent in sexual encounters with past suitors and of suitors having seeing her as nothing but a toy. If that is a sensitive topic for you then I would advice it be best to not read this.
A/N(2): A link to my collection I made for Edelthea Week 2022 is located at end of the story!
Sitting in bed opposite Edelgard, in nothing but their smallclothes, Dorothea feels… extremely on edge. One of her hands grips the bed sheets, quite the telling sign that the smile on her face is not confident but that of a frightened woman trying to put on a brave face. None would expect her to be so rigidly tense, for she is about to make love to the woman whom she loves with her entire being. She wants nothing more than to have sex with Edelgard, truly she does, especially when both have finally reached the stage when they are comfortable enough to do so. She’s so indescribably proud of Edelgard for finally allowing herself to be exposed and to eventually let go of control; it is precious and extremely telling of her love for her. And yet something is clawing her insides, making her throat burn as if on the verge of vomiting, causing her to feel lethargic.
Dorothea inquires if Edie is truly comfortable enough to proceed. Edelgard admits her nervousness, being so bashful that it is so unlike the confident emperor unable to be wavered, yet she wishes for her to claim her body and soul. Dorothea hates that there is some tiny part of her that shivers in fear at the idea of having sex and that she wants to hightail out of this room. But she shoves those cumbersome thoughts down a hole of her own making as she leans in and kisses Edelgard. Tentatively callus hands cup her cheeks and caress along her jawline. A terrible cold sensation conjures in her as those hands wander away from her face down to her neck. It turns into a blizzard that has her choking against Edelgard’s kiss, which to her has become a closed gate to keep her trapped; she needs to escape, she needs air. It quickly dawns on her that this cold feeling is terror.
This is not like the suitors who treated me like a toy for their sexual gratification, she keeps reminding herself over and over.
She shuts her eyes tighter in hopes of savouring the kiss, yet it only conjures terrible recollections of her past sexual encounters. Suitors who didn’t care about her feelings. Suitors who grew frustrated whenever she didn’t satisfy their needs. Suitors who demanded more, more, more—
I’m in good hand, I’m in caring hands, I’m in—
Dorothea feels the lips and hands of her beloved pull away. Opening her eyes she sees Edelgard observe her with nothing but solicitous concern in her wide lilac eyes. “Do you want to stop Dorothea?”
“No, of course not!” Dorothea insists, wincing at how desperate her voice came out. She forces a reassuring smile that feels as hallow as brittle bones. “I’m just… finding the right rhythm!”
“You were whimpering and impossibly still,” Edelgard states, her tone filled with only worry for her wellbeing. There is not a shred of frustration in her tone or posture at not being gratified. “You were reliving your past sexual encounters with nobles.”
Mortified upon realising that she had been whimpering and sitting stock-still she chokes out some noises and stares with flickering green eyes. Edelgard can see through her like her body is a window to her thoughts. Her beloved’s face softens as she carefully hovers a hand to her cheek, seeking permission to touch. Feeling pitiful yet desperate for some display of affection Dorothea’s face scrunches in sorrow and she nods. With a touch so gentle for a hand so callused with scars and from using axes Edelgard tenderly caresses her cheek. Those lilac eyes, usually so intense, a fire that burns one to a crisp, engulf her in blissful and assuring warmth. No one in bed has ever looked at her as a person.
“Please, for your sake let us stop. I would never forgive myself for traumatising you, Dorothea.”
Tears well in Dorothea’s eyes. Without restraint she droops her head and silently sobs at her pitiful state. Why is she being so emotional and vulnerable when Edie has completely exposed her scars to her, which is indescribably difficult and vulnerable for Edelgard to bear? Why is she acting like this, when Edelgard has far more reasons to be apprehensive about sex? It’s unfair on Edelgard, who has slowly grown accustomed to her touches and has finally decided to surrender her obsession for control and see the beauty in being in another’s hand. Yet nothing about Edelgard’s mannerisms or expression express her being enraged that she has finally beared her scar diseased body to her only to be turned down. Those callus hands thumb her tears away and she grows so overwhelmed with knowing that she is loved this tenderly, caringly, and genuinely by another.
“I’m sorry, I know how unbearable it is for you to bear your scars—!” Dorothea hiccoughs, unable to look into her beloved’s eyes.
“Shhh, there is no need for apologies,” Edelgard whispers, her hand now carefully moving the strands that curtain Dorothea’s face behind her ears. “There will come a time when we are both ready.”
A hand cups her chin to look into those lilac eyes. There is an assuring smile that makes Dorothea feel like everything will be okay and that there is no need to feel remorseful. “Let me brew you your favourite tea.”
Another wordless nod from Dorothea. Edelgard climbs off the bed and fetches her, her chemise to dress if she is feeling exposed. Such a simple gesture has Dorothea shed more tears as she takes the clothing to dress herself. She notes Edelgard also donning on her nightgown, once again covered head to toe so none would suspect her body being diseased with scars. Then her beloved pours two cups of tea—one with bergamot no doubt, the other with sweet-apple blend—and then moves towards the bed. Dorothea moves to sit on the bed’s edge so that she and Edie can have tea more comfortably. Edelgard joins her with offering her the sweet-apple blend.
Wordlessly Dorothea sips her tea. Her eyes are downcast, staring at a forlorn face in the liquid. It is silly to feel frustrated about her trauma affecting her, when she has assured her beloved many times whenever she felt guilty of her trauma that there is nothing to be apologetic about and that she is here for her. Now she knows perfectly how her Edie feels.
“I am so proud of you for bearing your scars to me,” Dorothea utters as she manages to look up from her cup with a proud smile and glint in her eyes.
Edelgard musters an adoring smile. “I am grateful beyond words that you did not recoil upon seeing my scars.”
Dorothea gently takes Edelgard’s free hand, the only part of her that exposes her scars, and lays a chaste kiss to the thin surgical cut around her wrist. Every time she has the opportunity to show her beloved that her scars are nothing to be ashamed of, that they are a testimony to her unwavering strength, she does so. Looking up from the wrist she notes how Edelgard looks like she will melt from the sheer love she is feeling from the gesture. One day she will kiss every single scar upon Edelgard’s body. One day she will ravish this incredible woman before her. One day they will be comfortable enough to make love.
Drinking her tea is soothing. She finds her initial meltdown starting to cool. When they both finish their teas Edelgard takes them and places them on the desk. Under the candlelight and moonlight Edie looks like a beautiful spectre. Then she returns to her side and carefully takes her hands in her own to thumb them tenderly and supportively.
“You have calmed down,” Edelgard states, her posture sagging with relief. Her solicitous eyes regard her. “Is there… anything you wish to do?”
The question is in regards to her wellbeing. Edelgard always places her wellbeing above all else. She is a person in her eyes. Edie really is special. She contemplates if there is anything the two can do. It is night time, so picnics are out of the question. It has been an emotional encounter and she feels the need to sleep.
“If you are comfortable with it: may we both cuddle in nothing but our smallclothes?” She requests, her tone barely audible to her partner.
Edelgard ponders for a moment: they have cuddled before, but never with skin against skin. Dorothea stares at her beloved to inform her that she will not be upset in the slightest if she turns down the offer. She wants her to be comfortable too.
Edelgard nods. “We can certainly do that.”
Dorothea waits a moment to gauge if Edie is truly comfortable about this. When she shows no signs of discomfort both undress. In their smallclothes once more Dorothea is relieved to feel safe and seen, and her heart crescendos with how Edie doesn’t avert her scarred body away from her. Before Edelgard can lift the duvet Dorothea requests if they can cuddle atop so she can see her and be seen by her. It would… hopefully make her grow more comfortable about having sex with her one day. After all nudity—or partial in this case—is a step closer to sex, and for the two of them being naked in any way is extremely exposing of their vulnerabilities. Edelgard agrees with a wordless nod. Both lie atop the bed and adjust their postures so they can see eye-to-eye.
Slowly to test the waters and to be able to pull away quickly Dorothea brings her leg between Edelgard’s thighs. Edelgard slowly lowers a hand atop Dorothea’s waist, and this time Dorothea shivers with delight. They are a hair’s length away from kissing one another. Edelgard blows and snickers at the way Dorothea closes her eyes and bunches her nose to then pout at her. Dorothea plays with a loose silver lock, muttering how is it wrong for her to find it pretty knowing what caused it to become this colour, in which Edelgard smiles. With a cheeky grin Dorothea brushes her nose against Edelgard’s, and her beloved snorts and giggles puerilely as she brushes hers back.
Green eyes regard the scars littered across the pallor skin. “May I touch them…?”
“They wouldn’t feel pleasant to the touch…” Edelgard states, her eyes softening out of melancholy for how her body not only looks but how it must feel to another.
“But they’re a part of you, and I love you faults and all,” Dorothea insists. This is something she wants to do more than anything. They needn’t have sex for her to showcase how those scars aren’t something for Edie to feel disgusted with.
Before her is a frightened woman so unused to affection being readily given to her. There are no strings attached; Dorothea is being genuine with her kindness because she loves her. So Edelgard breathes out a ‘yes’. Dorothea runs her fingers down a mighty vertical scar upon her beloved’s chest to assure Edelgard that she needn’t feel ashamed about her scars with her. Edelgard sighs contently at the sensation, and Dorothea notes the tears eager to leave her beloved’s eyes. She is the first and only person to show and react with nothing but love towards these blemishes. Feeling how overwhelmed Edie is and feeling compelled to show her gratitude towards this wonderfully understanding woman she lays a chaste loving kiss upon the mighty scar’s tip.
She lays a few more along the length until she reaches the binding cloth. When she pulls away to look up at Edelgard her breath is knocked out of her. There is an impossibly soft expression on her face, so soft that velvet would be envious, with how her lilac eyes crease pleasingly and lovingly, the tears flowing down her cheeks, and that smile that seemingly breaks the limit of her face being forever mesmerising to her. Edelgard leans in to kiss her deeply, and Dorothea eagerly returns it with equal force. None can capture what their kiss means in any language, past and present. Yet if one were to explain, even in such pitifully simple terms, their kiss says: ‘you are my everything, my light that guides me, my heart is one with you, my love, my dearest love.’.
When they pull away they rest their foreheads against one another. “I hope you will be comfortable enough one day for me to kiss your own scars,” Edelgard whispers.
She has a few scars, some from her being an orphan fighting for survival and others from the war. She always used to hide them with makeup so to not alarm any suitor. It dawns on her that this is the first time she isn’t hiding her own blemishes from one she is courting. She and Edelgard have more in common than either have ever realised. She nods, forever grateful that she is with someone who isn’t chastising her for ‘double standards’ in regards to her touching Edelgard’s scars but not yet being comfortable with hers being touched. But she wants to do something that will make her grow comfortable with touch in such an intimate situation like this.
“May you hold me tonight, Edie?” Dorothea requests.
Usually she is the one to cuddle, but tonight she wants to grow comfortable in being in her smallclothes in someone’s arms. She wants to wake up in the arms of someone who will not leave her after being satisfied. Edelgard understands the implication; she knows her so well and never abuses that knowledge for her own gain. So she wiggles up so that Dorothea can rest under her chin (she snickers about how small her partner is, earning a faux antagonised huff from Edelgard against her scalp), and then tentatively, weary of her mighty strength, embraces her. They stay like this, with her resting her head upon Edelgard’s chest. The arms around her do not feel like chains keeping her pressed to the suitor until they are satisfied with her sexual acts. They feel like a fortress that will keep her from harm’s way. She feels safe. She feels loved.
“Thank you, my love,” Dorothea whispers before she closes her eyes and snuggles closer against Edelgard’s person.
Edelgard hums in response against her scalp. “I am so proud of you. Sleep well, my love.”
“Goodnight, my sweet Edie,” is the last muffled reply against Edelgard’s chest as she falls into a wonderful slumber.
A/N: I'd love to hear your thoughts (be that a multi paragraph analysis, a keyboard smash, or even if it is an emoji) and if possible some feedback!