With the crescent moon high in the sky and a cool spring breeze fluttering through the air, a chill runs down Lilia's spine. They're walking back to the castle from the graveyard, and her fingers have never left their place— hooked amongst Dimitri's own. It's quiet, nary the sound of a cricket or a bat. Even the distant sound of partying feels muted, like they're in a world of their own.
She sneezes, and in response Dimitri unclips his cloak from his armour and wraps it around her shoulders. The fingers of her free hand wrap around the cloak, rich blues melting into the night, the moonlight turning his hair to gold. She blinks up at him, her lips curled into a gentle smile as she takes in the lingering fragrance of chamomile and weapon oil. It's so distinctively him that it brings her comfort like nothing else.
"I forgot to ask earlier," She speaks softly and quietly. "Do I have to call you 'Your Majesty' now?"
"Ah..." He raises a hand to his lips, and she can see his cheeks stain pink. "No. I'd... prefer if you continued to call me by my name, anyway, but— I am currently only performing the duties of a king. I've yet to be officially coronated."
She thinks she remembers something about this in a lesson she'd received from either Rodrigue or Annette. The Kingdom and the Church of Seiros are intrinsically connected, and have been from the Kingdom's formation. After helping broker peace and helping with the Loog's bid for freedom from the Empire, the church was made the official religion of the nation, and crowned the first king. Ever since then, the rulers of Faerghus have been coronated by the Church. Technically, Dimitri could be crowned by Byleth, as the man is currently working as the head of the church in Lady Rhea's absence, but... She's no doubt that certain nobles will complain about their king being crowned by a temporary leader. Besides— she's sure Dimitri thinks they don't have the time for a coronation while they're at war, and she's inclined to agree.
She hums in response. "What sort of duties are you doing?"
"Ah, well... I have to send notice to the lords, informing them of our victory. But surely they'll need help purging our territory of Imperial forces, so we'll have to send some soldiers out to help them. And we'll need to absorb the Kingdom knights taken by the Dukedom into our forces and reshuffle our troops," He looks to her, and she wonders if he expects her to be bored or not interested, but she nods for him to continue. "I need to ask merchants to lend us the funds we require as well... and we'll need to request supplies at once. We can't continue to rely on the Alliance for everything."
Lilia's expression softens. If Rodrigue could see Dimitri now, she's sure he'd be proud. The beast prince is turning into a noble king.
They're planning to spend another week in Fhirdiad, mainly to lick their wounds and reorganise their forces. A lot of people were injured in the battle to retake the city, but a lot more were volunteers who'd never seen a lick of battle before the war began. It'll be better for them and for their chances that they let those who don't want to continue on, or those who can't continue on, stay behind and rest in the capital.
Her armour was completely destroyed in the last battle, and while her wounds have mainly healed over— Mercedes' handiwork meant that she hopefully wouldn't be left with any noticeable scars— she needed to find a place that could either give her some new armour or make her something new before they have to leave. She doesn't know anything about Fhirdiad though, nor does she really know anything about blacksmithing; the closest thing they had to an armourer in Kevik Village was the local blacksmith, and he mostly made and repaired things they needed around the village.
She stares at Dedue for a few moments, admiring the unique knit of his scarf (of Duscan origins, perhaps?) and the make of his armour. "Where did you get your armour?"
He looks up from his place, tending to his axe. Dedue is a quiet man, and she had been more than happy to sit with him in silence and help tend to their weapons, if not for the curiosity that permeated her being as of current. He seems to take a moment to think, hand pressing against his armour-clad chest.
"His Highness had it made for me not long before he was imprisoned..."
Her heart aches for a moment, remembering how Dedue and Dimitri were both nearly killed; how the prince was chased out of his home after being accused of murdering his last-living blood relative, how Dedue nearly lost his life rescuing him. It's only brief, the ache soothed by the fact that they're both alive and doing relatively well. Fhirdiad is theirs. Dedue is alive.
"I see..." Her eyes drop from the man.
"You're in need of new armour, yes?" She looks back up to him. "I'm sure His Highness would be willing to show you an armourer in town."
"Oh, I don't want to bother him with that..." Lilia knows he's busy with all the work he has to do. Five years of absence has left the state of things in disarray, and the war hasn't helped one bit. Of course, much of the repairs needed in the country will have to wait until the war is completely over, but she knows that Dimitri had wanted to at least get through the important things before they had to return to the frontlines.
"You would not be bothering him at all. I'm sure His Highness would be happy to help."
Her hands rest on her cheeks, feeling the heat radiating off of them, like the sun off of rocks in midsummer. There are so many emotions that she's tried to conceal from herself, conceal from everyone around her— and hearing things like that makes them come up to the surface. She should not get her hopes up, and yet she does anyway. She thinks of dancing under the moonlight, blonde hair turning into threads of gold, the scent of chamomile and moonflowers in the air. Her pink lips press into a line, thoughts racing through her mind. She doesn't want to always rely on Dimitri, no matter how much her heart stutters at the sight of him, no matter how much she longs to. One day, the war will be over, and he will be king. And she... she will be a peasant once more.
Their dance under the stars will last her a lifetime, so she shouldn't long for more like she does. "Perhaps... I'll ask Ingrid if she knows a place..."
Dedue stares at her in silence for a few moments more, his eyes reminding her of the colour of robin eggs, a cool-toned and pale blueish green. Sometimes she thinks he can read her mind, because after he seems to be done with the staring, he returns to polishing the axe. She wonders what had gone through his mind, and tries to focus on anything but that as she goes about the rest of her chores.
Finding Ingrid within the great halls of the castle turns out to be far more difficult than she'd thought it would be, though her chances were certainly not helped by the fact she couldn't find her way around. It's similar to the monastery in that way, though at least there she had set destinations in mind that helped her find her way. Forget finding an armourer— at this rate, she won't even be able to find how to get out.
"Well, well, isn't it Lilia," She's swept up by the fragrance of lilac and steel; as Yuri pokes his head over her shoulder, his steps so quiet she hadn't even heard him approach. "Where're you headed, all alone? Usually you're accompanied by His Highness or one of the other nobles around."
Her heart nearly stops, spooked by his sudden appearance, though the sweetness of his perfume mixed with the ever-present smell of metal had given her a little bit of a warning. Though she rarely ever speaks to the man, he's always been easy for her to pick out of a crowd— the click of his heels, the wisteria-like colour of his hair, his delicate features, and of course, that scent that clings to him.
It's hard to argue what he has to say. She is almost always with the 'nobles' (though Dedue, Ashe, and Mercedes don't count amongst them) and His Highness, though that's almost entirely a comfort thing to her. She still doesn't know many of the other soldiers very well, though she's grown accustomed to, and friendly with, Hapi and Dorothea. Her lips curl downward a little, and the beautiful man chuckles.
"Jeez, what a face," She glances at him, the long lashes coated in black, the sheen of pink across his lips and eyelids. Yuri is surely a good person, why else would the Professor keep him by his side, but she remembers Dorothea saying that he's quite the tricky person. "Relax. I only came up to you because you seemed lost."
She can't help pout at that. "Well— yes, I suppose..."
"Here, I'll show you the way towards the entrance." He gestures with a flick of the hand, and after deliberating for a few moments, she begins to follow. Despite only being here for a week, he seems to have memorised every little pathway around the place, gesturing to certain things that he believes will help her find her way around next time; a specific painting here, an old set of armour there. She watches his back while they walk, and soon enough she finds herself in the very front entrance she'd first entered the castle in once the battle finished.
"Wow..." Lilia looks over her shoulder, wondering perhaps if he'd cast magic along the way. "How'd you figure this place out so fast?"
He laughs, a little more genuine than before. "This place isn't anywhere near as confusing as The Abyss is."
If it's more confusing than the castle, then she's not sure she'd ever like to visit 'the Abyss'. Though, with a name like that, she hadn't been planning to anytime soon anyway. It has an aura to it that just feels threatening, and she can't imagine what it must be like. Even when she looks at Hapi or Yuri, she can hardly imagine them being from such a place that invokes such a feeling of unease. Yuri especially, though she's grown to notice that his elegance is punctuated by a sharpness she'll never understand.
"So, where were you headed all alone?"
"Ah, well... I was looking for Ingrid..." Saying it after he'd teased her for hanging around the nobility makes her feel a little silly, though. "I was hoping she knew where an armourer was in the city."
"I happen to know a place, if you'd like me to show you," She looks up to him, and he gives her a smile. "It's cheap, especially considering the quality of their products."
She takes a moment to think. She certainly doesn't have the kind of money to spend on a particularly expensive and elaborate set of armour, though she has been paid regularly as a member of the army. Her fingers reach to her pocket, tied around her waist out of habit instead of sewn into her clothes like many of the nobles wear them, feeling for her coin purse. She has more money these days than she's had in her entire life, but even then... it may not be enough.
"I would appreciate that, thank you."
He leads her away from the castle and through the streets of Fhirdiad, and for the first time she begins to see signs of life returning. She'd heard and seen the people celebrating after the city had been liberated, but now that she can witness it with her own eyes... She can see children running through the streets, laughing and playing. She can see people beginning to repair destroyed homes and stores, people were smiling and talking and just... living. It's going to take some time for everything to get back to normal, but seeing them right now... she can tell the people of Fhirdiad will bounce back.
Yuri takes her further and further away from the main storefronts and homes, beautiful tall buildings and houses with white wood trims and lattices, and soon she finds that they're in a part of town more likely to house commonfolk, rather than the rich and noble like the places she'd seen before. The buildings aren't quite as tall, and many are in need of repair, but even here the people seem happy. She can smell freshly-baked bread, and the man walking beside her gestures up ahead to where smoke billows into the blue sky above.
They arrive in front of a blacksmith's forge, attached to the side of a small wooden store. Peering through the window, she can see some weapons and armour on display, though judging by how empty the store is, she wonders if the owner has only recently gone back to making things. That, or the ones left behind are defect, and the good ones were taken by the Dukedom. The sound of metal against metal rings out, a familiar rhythmic beat.
"Simeon! You in?" Yuri calls out.
There's a pause to the beating sound, and she looks up to her companion once more, fingers nervously itching at the fabric of her blouse. As usual, his face is the picture of cool confidence, but it doesn't help soothe her nerves. They wait for a few more moments, the smithy dead silent when compared to the rest of the city around them. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, an older man— around the same age as Gilbert, she thinks— exits the forge and lets out a heavy sigh.
"Of course it'd be you," He grumbles, running his hand through thick curls of salt-and-pepper hair. "Whatd'ya want, kid."
Stained pink lips quirk into a kittenish grin. "Come now, Simeon. We're old friends, aren't we? And besides, you owe me a favour."
The man, Simeon, clicks his tongue. "Oh— alright, alright. Goddess..." For a moment, the man's brown eyes land on her, and he quirks a brow at Yuri. "What's with the little noble girl?"
Yuri lets out a startled laugh, and Lilia can't help but blink a few times, looking around in search for who he's speaking about for gesturing to herself.
"Yes, you. Aren't you a little far from home?"
"I-I, um, I'm afraid I'm no noble... M-My village is— was... only a week's travel out of Fhirdiad..." She mumbles. "These clothes are borrowed."
The blacksmith furrows his brow, looking her up and down. He catches a glimpse of her pocket, patched up with mismatched fabrics, and seems to believe her. "Tha' so? You just had that kind of aura to you."
She flushes. She definitely tries to make herself not stand out amongst those she's typically around, so she supposes that the clothes she's currently wearing have really helped her blend in. She can't imagine the girl she was a year ago being mistaken for some noble's daughter. Though, thinking about it, she's also been able to eat more food and generally take better care of herself than she ever was living on her own in her village— especially considering the war, so that might also have to do with it...
He gestures with his arm, leading them both into the store.
"So, what can I do for ya?"
Yuri looks to her, tilting his head a little as to tell her to speak. Lilia inhales, and steps forward a little. "My, um... my armour was destroyed in the last battle... and we're leaving for the Empire in a week, but I can't leave without something to protect me. But, um, Yuri said you'd be able to make me something?" That's perhaps a bit stretch of the truth, but... it's basically what he told her!
"You're a soldier?" Simeon asks, genuine shock in his voice.
She nods, shyly. "I'm... more of a healer, but I'm always close to the front-lines, so..."
The armourer moves to a bench and picks up a piece of parchment and some charcoal, seemingly taking some notes. "Any specifications?"
"Well... I ride a pegasus, and I'm not... particularly physically strong, so... something lightweight would be nice? If that's possible..."
Simeon nods, looking her over for a few moments, mumbling something under his breath as he rubs the charcoal across the parchment, smearing dark pigment across his calloused fingers and cheeks. She turns up to Yuri for a moment, and the beautiful man grins down at her. To her surprise, the armourer comes close to her and does a quick circle around her, eyes tracking up her arms and around her torso, continuously taking notes.
"You're only small, and because you're on a pegasus you'll only really need a chest-plate, some greaves, and some gauntlets..." He taps the charcoal against his chin, leaving marks on his tanned skin. "I'll get my apprentices to help out. We should have the whole thing done just before you lot have to leave."
She parts her lips, unsure of what to say. "T-Thank you... it's really kind of you to do this... Um.. I'm sorry to have rushed you on this project."
In punctuation to her words, she digs through her pocket for her coin purse and pulls it out, holding the hefty thing out for the blacksmith to take. He looks to her before taking it, spilling the contents onto his workbench and sifting through them. He ends up taking about three-quarters of her gold before returning her coin purse. She's surprised— she'd expected to need to pay more.
Her question must show on her face, because he scratches at the scruff on his chin. "Since I owe Yuri... I'll try to get it done as quick as I can."
Yuri is leading her back to the castle, the sun beginning to crest the horizon across the sky. He's not focused on anything in particular, though he always has an ear and eye out in case someone tries something. Lilia's such an airhead, after all.
"Why did you help me?"
He's a little surprised when she speaks up, considering that on the walk to the smithy she'd been completely silent, taking in the sights and sounds of a healing city. It's cute, that she's so fascinated by city life.
He can't say the same about himself.
He chuckles, looking back over his shoulder, an elegant hand tucking hair behind his ear. "A favour for a favour, right?"
Her lips purse for a few moments, and he watches the expressions shift across her face as she tries to process what he's said. Perhaps she thinks that he'll want a favour from her in the future, and perhaps he'll let her continue thinking that way. In truth, the favour he's doing is for Byleth. The professor had asked him to look out for her, after all— and well... it's the least he can do.
"So, how does it look?"
Byleth leans back in his chair and hums, mint-green gaze washing over the group in front of him. Claude preens like a male bird in spring, clad in robes stained in inky blacks darker than the night, accented by reds that remind him of freshly spilt blood. After seeing the man in golds and yellows and the occasional forest green, the black and red feels too much— too suffocating, too much like facing an foe. It certainly doesn't help that the robes are the enemy's uniform.
"If you'd covered your face, I might have attacked you." Byleth states, bluntly, and the Alliance duke laughs.
"Perfect, then," The archer begins to remove the uniform from his person, sliding his own armour back on. "I'm thinking of getting Ignatz to deliver the letter."
"Ignatz?"
"Yeah. You, Hilda and I are too recognisable, but Ignatz has that sort of face that makes people trust him anyways."
Byleth tries to imagine mousy and gentle Ignatz trying to fool someone, like Hilda or Claude do, but the image just doesn't form in his mind. Ignatz is definitely the best person for the task— kind-hearted Ignatz, who forces himself to look at the horrors of war, face it with his own eyes in order to remember those who've died haven't done so in vain. It puts him in more danger if he gets caught, yes, but he trusts that Ignatz is fast enough to get himself out of trouble. He's watched that boy grow from a timid student to a gifted warrior.
"He can do it," He leans into his palm, the ghost of a smile curved on his lips. "We can do it."
He believes in his kids.
SOBS. IM SORRY I TOOK SO LONG
so i started back up classes after a break,,,
i was VERY tired all week and ive barely had any energy despite wanting to write :pensive:
callmecrazylol: YEP! from memory, one of the brothers married into house riegan,
effectively making it a cadet branch of house blaiddyd !
guest: AAA im so glad you liked my characterisation of sylvain,,, hes such an interesting
character to write :skull: im so glad you liked those scenes! they were my absolute
favourite things to write.
hopefully i can get back into the swing of writing once i get used to my schedule and post more!
thank u guys for reading tho :pleading_face: i hope you enjoyed!