The victory was bitter in his mouth. They had killed the monster that was Miklan, driven a lance through the creature's (through Miklan's) eye and listened to the thing whimper it's last breath. But they had gotten no names, no clue to who had hired him to kill Dimitri, Edelgard, and his men.
"That will be you one day. A rabid beast fit only for a merciful death." The voices hissed.
Dimitri's hands tensed on the reigns, clutching them tightly. It seemed to be a constant in his life, the answers he needed lying just outside his reach.
Ingrid shot him a worried glance, her face wan and eyes shadowed. Dimitri looked to Sylvain, he rode half slumped, exhaustion clear on his face. Sylvain had kept up a mask of cheer on their way to the tower but it seemed even he could no longer keep up the pretense that all was well.
Not after Miklan. In his mind he saw writhing tendrils of darkness coil around Miklan, hissing as they touched. He heard Miklan's screams, rough and terrified. And he felt the fur, oily and bristled that had covered the beast that was Miklan.
Dimitri let out a breath. Fhiridad loomed ahead of them, an hour's ride away and soon enough he would demand answers from the western church.
Despite his brother's fate, Sylvain insisted on carrying the lance, it was sheathed innocently at his side as if it had not days ago warped a man into a beast.
They rode in silence, even Felix refrained from his usual barrage of insults.
They rode through Fhiridad past the wide eyes of the common folk. They were hardly a splendid party but he supposed it didn't take much to be impressive to commoners.
Sylvain remained silent as they rode through the castle gates and dismounted from their horses. "Sylvain." Ingrid said quietly.
He turned to her, a forced half-smile on his face. "If you want me to take you to dinner, I'd have to decline tonight but later-"
Ingrid stomped her foot. "Stop. You don't need to...You don't need to pretend with us!" She gestured to Felix and Dimitri.
Dimitri nodded. "If you need to grieve we will be there for you." He promised.
Sylvain's face crumpled. "I...He meant nothing to me. He was a monster...nothing more. Nothing." He insisted.
"Right." Felix sneered. "Your brother's death, his suffering is nothing." He slammed his hand on the stable wall. "It's all fucking meaningless to you." He stalked off into the night leaving them in silence.
They walked in silence into the castle, the guards nodding at them as they passed.
"Your highness, I must...write a letter to my father. Tell him not to worry." Sylvain said glumly.
"Of course." Dimitri nodded. Ingrid sighed. "I'm going to the stables, I have to check in on Palla, Good night, your highness." They walked away leaving him alone with Dedue.
Dimitri ran a hand through his hair. "You must be exhausted." He said to Dedue. His owns limbs were heavy with exhaustion.
Dedue shook his head. "I am fine, your highness."
Dimitri squinted skeptically. "Don't lie to me. Anyone would be exhausted after all that's happened. Please, get some rest."
Dedue shook his head again, preparing to argue as Dimitri put up his hand. "Please Dedue. Take some rest, for me."
He looked him over before slowly nodding. "I will rest so I can serve you to the best of my abilities." He said obstinately.
Dimitri nodded. Good enough I suppose. Dedue reluctantly took his leave and Dimitri enjoyed the moment of solitude. Not that he was ever truly alone.
Dimitri sighed, he would get little rest tonight. Not with the sight of Miklan branded in his mind.
"Your highness." A sweet voice purred. Dimitri turned to Cornelia. "My lady." He said formally. Something about Cornelia itched at him, something familiar but he could never figure out how. Something about her gave him a feeling of safety, his father had trusted her and she had never given him a reason to distrust her.
She gave him a kindly smile. "Your uncle has returned from Enbarr. He wishes to see his dear nephew." she gestured to the stairs. "Would you like me to walk with you?" She asked softly.
Dimitri nodded. "If you desire it." He started up the stairs Cornelia at his side.
"I've been talking with your bride." Cornelia said mildly.
"Edelgard?" Dimitri asked, surprised. Edelgard was hardly the sociable type.
She nodded. "Oh yes, I feel that she and I could be dear friends. The poor thing is having trouble fitting in here." She clutched at her heart. "She reminds me so of myself when I first arrived from Enbarr, alone and vulnerable…" She said sympathetically.
Dimitri frowned. He supposed he hadn't considered that much, that Edelgard so composed and dignified could feel alone.
They reached the landing. Dimitri still thinking on his bride. They'd been wed only a few weeks and Dimitir had been absent for two of them, the rest they'd spent traveling, he'd hardly had time to know her.
He remembered Edelgard on the battlements, pale and lovely against the night. "Will you help me?" He'd asked. She'd refused him and yet...if he could make her understand he might find an ally in her.
"I believe he's having tea." Cornelia said, pointing to a door. Dimitri nodded. "Thank you Cornelia."
She smiled benignly at him. "I am glad to serve, your Highness."
He knocked on the door. Hoping against all logic that Rufus had retired early.
"Come in, come in." His uncle's jovial voice commanded.
Dimitri sighed, before making his face impassive.
Inside Edelgard sat next to Rufus, a tray of tea on the table between them. Edelgard sat rigidly, her face a mask of indifference. She looked up as he entered.
"Your highness." She greeted, coolly.
"Edelgard." He said with more warmth. "Uncle." he greeted tonelessly.
"Ah, sit down my boy, sit down. You must be weary after your journey, a cup of tea will warm your bones." He slapped Dimitri on the back and Dimitri resisted the urge to slap his hands off.
"Of course uncle." he muttered, seating himself by Edelgard.
The tea was saccharine sweet and Dimitri restrained himself from gagging.
Edelgard stirred her own tea, the spoon clinking loudly against the cup. She kept her eyes fixed on her cup.
"Now, I'm afraid we must talk about something serious." Rufus looked at him gravely. Dimitri clenched his fists, Rufus was his family, the last remnant of his father, and yet...he forced the bitterness back. The part of him that wished with all his heart that Rufus had died in his father's place.
"You know the...purpose of a marriage, do you not?" Rufus asked, tugging at his mustache.
Edelgard's gaze was coolly dismissive. "We are aware, yes."
Rufus cleared his throat. "Than you are aware, Lady Edelgard, that your...modesty is becoming an issue."
Dimitri winced, he had been dreading this moment. Edelgard and himself had remained distant, no talk of consummation between them. He had known they would be called to do their duty eventually and yet...
"My modesty?" Edelgard asked icily.
Rufus flushed a bright red but turned his piglike eyes to Edelgard nonetheless. "You two are man and wife and you must behave like it!" He blustered. "It is in your power to provide an heir to both Faerghus and the empire. With that child, peace could be insured. Does that not make your heart lift with joy?"
Against his will Dimitri pictured a boy with blonde curls and violet eyes, a boy with a golden crown and a heavy burden. Some part of him liked the idea, a child that would have his duty but not his madness, a boy who could be raised as a king.
Edelgard took a sip of her tea, her eyes trained on Rufus like daggers of ice.
"Surely you are not so naive to the ways of marriage, lady Edelgard, your father had quite the menagerie of concubines, did he not?" His tips twitched on the word concubines and Dimitri clutched his cup tighter.
"I am aware, Lord Rufus." She answered sharply. She set her cup down with a soft clink. "Do not concern yourself with my modesty, the heir to Faerghus and Adrestia will appear soon enough."
Rufus raised an eyebrow. "Ah, I'm glad you understand the necessity of your...union, my dear girl."
Edelgard laughed, a sound like the shattering of ice. "It's purpose is clear to me, yes." She set her cup down.
Thank you for your...generosity." She strode from the room ignoring Rufus' protests, letting the door slam behind her.
Dimitri paused, letting his cup ring loudly on the table. "I'll consider what you've said uncle." He says tightly.
His uncle looks at him, disappointment clear in his gaze. "I only want what's best for you, my boy."
Edelgard was gone by the time he emerged. Edelgard. Lovely and cold. At times she reminded him of the moon; beautiful, distant, and silent. He sighed wearily. It had not always been that way, he remembered the sweet bossy girl she had once been. She had changed into some unrecognizable, cold, and veiled. Yet he had changed as well, little remained of the boy who clumsily submitted to Edelgard's teaching. That boy had died at Duscur.
He spent the rest of the evening destroying training dummies, training until his muscles screamed, his bones ached, and he could hear nothing but his own grunts and growls as his spear descended.
Seven dummies lay in tatters of straw and scraps when he finished. A bath had already been prepared for him by the time he ascended the stairs. Dedue's work he assumed.
Leaning back in the tin tub he felt his aches and bruises recede beneath the steaming water. The relief of pain should have pleased him. It didn't. Dimitri preferred pain. If he had his way his wounds would still throb, still bleed.
It wasn't right for scars to fade while the memories remain. He considered ripping them open; images of the water tinged pink, tainted with his blood flickered behind his eyes.
The pain could drive the ghosts away, his suffering, the suffering he had escaped at Duscar seemed to please them. It was a penance he had earned, after all.
In the end he dried and changed into woolen breeches and tunic, the clothes were clean yet to Dimitri they smelled of blood and smoke.
He walked languidly to his room, the sooner he tried to sleep the sooner the nightmares would come.
He slipped into his bedroom, taking care with the heavy wood and iron door, someone had lit the fireplace, the slight crackling the only sound in his cold stone room.
"Dimitri." A soft but steady voice acknowledged. Dimitri spun in surprise. Edelgard sat on the side of his bed, fully clothed, her face blank.
"Edelgard?" He couldn't keep the surprise from his voice.
"We must talk." She said gravely.
Carefully Dimitri seated himself on the bed. "About?"
Edelgard sighed. "Your uncle desires the consummation of this marriage, as does much of the nobility."
Dimitri bristled. Future king or no, my intimacy is my business alone. He saw now more than ever why his father had kept his marriage to Patricia a secret.
"In the empire, the Emperor is expected to take on consorts in order to produce crest bearing heirs." Edelgard's voice was strained. "Faerghus' customs are different but the expectation of an heir remains."
Dimitri frowned severely. "Yes but-"
Edelgard shook her head. "My father could not marry for love and your father was likely the same. This is our duty." she paused, "it's better to get it over with." She said, determined.
Patricia's face flashed through his mind, she and his father had been in love. If he was certain of nothing else he was certain of that. Dimitri shook his head. "Still, there's no reason it has to be now."
Something bitter and amused played on Edelgard's face. "We can't put it off forever."
Dimitri's hand clenched around the sheets. "No. But we can put it off for tonight." He sighed. "Edelgard I don't want this to be an unpleasant obligation. We can wait until we're both uh, better acquainted before we..." He trailed off. A flush creeping onto his cheeks.
Edelgard smiled wanly. "We can't wait long. They wish for an heir they can properly puppet."
Surprise flicked through him. Edelgard had been loath to say anything political in the past weeks. To speak about it now was unexpected.
"That's one more reason to wait." Dimitri murmured. An heir. In his mind's eye he saw a little brown-haired boy with a wooden sword, a golden-haired girl learning to dance.
"You think a gutless coward like you could be a father?" Glenn hissed. "You would only fail them as you failed us."
Dimitri's jaw clenched and Edelgard gave him a searching look.
"Something is troubling you." Edelgard's violet eyes seemed to peer through his skin and flesh.
"It's nothing." He looked down, ignoring Glenn's baleful glare. "If you think it's best to consummate than...I will concede."
Edelgard nodded slowly. "Very well." She shed her clothes seemingly impervious to the cold and Dimitri's breath caught at the scars that marred her entire body. She was marked with thin pink and white lines that spoke of careless cuts.
"What-" He began, horrified only for Edelgard to cut him off sharply.
"They're healer scars." She idly traced a long scar across her chest, her face unreadable. "My siblings are I fell terribly ill, you see. A healer arrived who believed the answer lay beneath my flesh, he cut into me to search for the cause of my condition. He found it eventually." She said tonelessly.
"What...what sickness could be cause for…" He grasped for words.
Edelgard's lips twisted into something too bitter to be a smile. "It was something in the blood, all my siblings had it as well."
So that's what happened to her siblings. Sympathy welled within him. He offered her a hand, his heart thumping as if he were in battle.
She took his hand and to his shock, pushed him back against the bed. She knelt over him, her hands on his shoulder.
The fire crackled, burning low as Edelgard straddled him, her eyes opaque as frosted glass. She kissed him without heat and he held her as his father and Glenn hissed venom in his ear.
She was cold to the touch, a marble statue more than a lover, nearly silent as Dimitri entered her.
She grasped him by the shoulders, her grip gentle but firm.
He closed his eyes, unable to bear the look of pure loathing on Glenn's face, nor the shame on his father's.
"Coward. Can't bear to face what you've done, the monster you are." Glenn growled as Dimitri rocked against her. He stilled and bit his lip. He tried to focus on Edelgard. The way her hair brushed against his face and the way her perfume tickled his nose.
She smelled strongly of flowers and spring winds. The scent was familiar, something distant tugged at his memory and as he strained to remember it's origin he finished with a gasp.
Edelgard rose silently as soon as he did, bare feet padding on the freezing stone floor, she gathered her clothes and hastily redressed. She spared him a few unreadable glances before leaving without a word.
At the back of the room, the fire sputtered out leaving Dimitri alone in the darkness.