Genres/Rating: Friendship, Romance, Hurt/Comfort. (T)

Characters: Claude, Hilda, Ignatz, Dimitri, Warin, Shamir.

Summary: The tension had finally faded, the nervous anxiety bubbling down to an odd sort of quiet that the monastery had not felt in many a year. There was of course much activity to be had, as future plans were laid and the packing was done for those soon to be bound for home, but for once in a long time, many could shut their eyes and allow themselves a brief respite. It was a moment to be fully taken advantage of before the great trek back to their territories and families, and many were seeking the opportunity to take care of the last odds and ends they had been putting off trimming as more important spectres loomed hauntingly over their shoulders. But those spectres were put to rest now, and if any ghosts yet lingered, it was with the living, and those had to be dealt with in person, and not with a sword, lance, axe, or bow in hand.

Wyvern Moon

Garreg Mach (Infirmary)

Morning

"Ah, good, you're still here."

The surprised, but relieved voice from the entrance to the infirmary made Hilda twitch, and for a brief moment, she heavily considered closing her pack, turning on her heel, and throwing it like a tomahawk at her intruding guest. The moment passed by as quickly as it came, with the reminder that if anyone saw her daring to raise her still-bandaged arm to throw an improvised weapon that she would likely be strapped to the cot as punishment, rather than being released to begin her trip home by nightfall. As glad as she had been to be made welcome in the monastery, she had spent the biggest portion of her stay in the infirmary, worrying over her old and new friends as they marched to battle, and even though a week had passed since their return... She admitted all of her nerves hadn't quite settled yet.

It was hard not to feel the tense atmosphere that was bubbling underneath the celebratory surface, but Hilda was well aware that whatever was to come to the monastery next was none of her business. House Goneril was her home, and her duties lay there, not here, regardless of how much she wished she could stay. A large part of her still felt like she had a debt to repay to the soldiers and healers who had taken her and Ignatz in without question, but she knew such a feeling was illogical. They had come with warnings they had needed, and they had repaid any debt they could have incurred thrice over by giving the soldiers time to prepare against their foes. The professor herself had visited her, thanking them both for their bravery, and wishing them safe travels back home when she had heard they both had healed sufficiently for the journey.

She had spent most of the morning packing as Ignatz wandered the monastery and spoke to his friends, and she only begrudged him of his freedom a little because her wounds wouldn't permit her to stroll about carelessly. The ride on horseback into the Alliance territory would be a long and steady one to account for her lingering injuries, but neither of them wished to overstay their welcome... especially with the knowledge that Holst was still also healing from his own wounds. Her brother needed the both of them home, to help with reconstruction and the running of their territory, and though Hilda was loathe to admit it, she wanted to heed his call and rush back to her dear family's side.

Still, that damned voice had brought her out of her musings and cruelly back to the real world, and with great effort, Hilda slowly pulled the ties on her pack tightly as she restrained her temper. Part of her was wondering why he had come at all, as the last words they had exchanged had been extremely icy and tense, but she supposed it was just like him to ignore such things for his own ends. The man with a smile that never reached his eyes wasn't the type to care about trotting all over old wounds if it suited him, and from his friendly, almost warm greeting, she had a grim feeling she was about to be subject to yet another self-righteous lecture that she was in no mood to hear.

Without raising her head, Hilda pretended to busy herself sorting out the last few odds and ends that she would be wearing, rather than packing when it came to travel. Her armour was laid out neatly, though most of the metal had been removed and not replaced, but she couldn't quite say she minded. The weight would be difficult to bear, and with the lands mostly safe now, she felt confident that leather mail would be more than sufficient for travel. It wasn't as if Ignatz would be similarly equipped, and the surety that the prince of Faerghus had given her about their safety on the roads had been surprisingly comforting. Her left hand idly touched the familiar worn cuirass, wondering how many times it had saved her life, and she kept her eyes firmly down on it as she finally allowed a reply to escape her lips, "What is it that you want, Claude? I'm a bit busy at the moment, if you can't tell."

"I know. The professor told me you were heading home by nightfall, and I was hoping to catch you before you left. I'm glad I did."

The answer made her twitch, and her eyebrows furrowed as she wondered why the seafoam-coloured haired woman would make mention of her travel plans to Claude of all people. Though she hadn't spent much time amongst the rebellion, she had indeed seen just how low the professor's opinion of Claude was, and she had to admit she had taken a bitter sort of pleasure from it. The professor was a woman who suffered no fools, or liars, and she hadn't had a single compunction about laying a hand on a noble, in front of all his men, no less, just to make her point all the more clear. Hilda wished she had that sort of gumption, that sort of self-assuredness that made such actions natural, but she knew she didn't. She was still hurting and angry, still disappointed and disgusted, and her hands tightened into fists as she growled out against better thought, "And you... what, thought I'd be happy that your face is the last one I'd be saying goodbye to? As far as I'm concerned, you and I parted ways after the roundtable conference in Derdriu. We have nothing to say to one another anymore."

There was a pulse of silence that followed her reply, and Hilda took a risk of glancing over her shoulder in surprise at the lack of a quick-witted remark. At the time of his announcement of dissolving the Alliance, he had been full of excuses and explanations, with his chest puffed out and a haughty and arrogant gleam in his eyes, and she had never known how much she was capable of hating a person until that moment. The way he had browbeat her brother in front of her, strong-arming him into agreeing to giving up his home to the Kingdom, had been a crystal clear window into his soul, and what she had seen had completely and utterly disgusted her. The man she had called a friend, a fellow mischief-maker and misfit, was now someone she barely recognized, and the disdain in his eyes as he glared around at his so-called fellows and told them flatly he cared nothing for them and or their opinions had been hard to see, and even harder to accept.

An "outsider" had threatened to break apart all she had ever known and cared about, and an "outsider" had told her flatly that his control over her homeland was more important than anything else because of his own dreams and wishes. And now that he couldn't use them, use her, to advance said dreams and wishes, he was casting them all aside. History, tradition, lineage, and even friendship meant nothing to him if it wasn't something he could use to his advantage, and though she had known that was the kind of man he truly was... when he turned it on her, she still had felt the stab of betrayal, and hadn't been immune to the surge of wrath that had followed. If he would so easily discard her, then she would just as easily discard him, and she would feel no guilt for it. Her brother had deserved better. Her family had sacrificed so much in service to the Alliance, to him, and as the professor had so aptly put it... He had spat all over their still-warm bodies, simply because they had no use to him any longer.

Now, though, Claude was standing in the doorway to the infirmary and was watching her with an expression she had not seen on his face before. It was almost sad, but not entirely so, along with something else that almost spoke of anger. But it was turned inwards rather than flashing out, as it had in Derdriu, and she didn't recognize that look. She had fought beside him for the better part of six years, but never once as his supposed left hand had she ever seen him look in such a way. He excelled at projecting confidence, even in the worst of times, but now he looked almost... clumsy, for lack of a better word. He was watching her, but he seemed uncomfortable in doing so, and he was shifting his weight from foot to foot as if he wasn't sure whether he could cross the threshold into the infirmary.

Hilda watched as he took in a deep breath, watched as he raised a hand to scratch awkwardly at the back of his head, and his calm fern-green eyes flickered over her before deciding the window was a far more interesting object to study. After a moment he let out his held breath, and his entire body seemed to sag as he shook his head and lowered his hand back to his side. He leaned against the doorframe, eyes now turning to the floor, and he stilled before he spoke slowly, as if he was trying to pick his words as carefully as he could manage, "About... the roundtable conference... No, more than that, about everything, really... I'm... I'm sorry, Hilda. You were right about me from the very start, but for some reason, you kept by me anyway. You didn't have to, but you did... and I appreciated that. I never told you that I was grateful that you were my friend... and I returned that favour by spitting in your face. I'm sorry."

"It wasn't just my face you spit in. You spit in everyone's face, and you did it as if we were mud beneath your shoes. Do you think a simple apology is enough to erase that?" Hilda returned sharply, and on instinct more than anything she turned to face him as a scowl curled its way deep into her expression as that wrath she had been feeling sparked into a flame with a vengeance. He spoke the words carefully, like he had been repeating them over and over, but it did little to soothe her hurt. From the way he winced, she could tell he had expected her reaction, but she didn't much care as she rounded on him, "For someone who considered me a friend, you never really treated me like one. Friends don't use friends to accomplish their own ends, Claude. And I know, I'm one to talk, but at least I let my experiences change me. I grew up, Claude. But you never did. Or, well, I guess you never intended to grow up. All you had was your dream, and either people were pawns to move as you wanted them to, or they were obstacles that you had to get out of your way. And if a pawn became an obstacle, you had no problem kicking it aside. I wasn't your friend. I was a pawn. For someone who said that Edelgard was someone that had to be stopped, you treated your men just like she did hers when you didn't get what you wanted."

"You're not wrong. I used the Alliance as I wanted to, and when it stopped benefiting me, I was ready to leave it behind me. You're right in saying that." Claude agreed with a slow, sombre nod, and he was aware that with the words came that cold piercing feeling that had been making itself known more and more frequently. He was not used to feeling guilt... It was something that had been beaten out of him quite early on in his life. If one wanted to survive, wanted to win, then one couldn't feel a sense of shame over the things they would stoop to in order to get ahead. He had lived his life with that mantra... and only recently had he begun to see, up-close and personally, that he had stomped on too many things, too many people, in order to get to where he was today. The thought made him smile wryly, and he shook his head again as he chuckled weakly, "And you know what...? All of my scheming, all of my detachment, all of my work... amounted to nothing in the end, anyway. Everything caught up to me. I'm leaving Fódlan the same way I came here... Alone, and with nothing."

"But you're not returning to wherever you came from alone, or with nothing." Hilda pointed out shrewdly, and Claude winced at the unexpected barb. It almost made her scoff, and she rolled her eyes at him as she folded her arms across her chest and shook her head this time. She wasn't a fool, and her time in the monastery had exposed her to more than he likely had guessed. She, and Ignatz, had been watching closely ever since they had joined with the rebellion, and the puzzle pieces they had picked up throughout the moons had painted a clear picture that laid everything out plainly and clearly, "You're going home to Almyra, with Leonie, and I bet you'll be getting a king's welcome once you arrive, won't you? All that talk about tearing down walls, and uniting the people... You wanted to tear down the Locket, tear down my home, because you thought if the Locket was gone that the Alliance and Almyra could somehow unite together and forget all their differences. Forget all the battles, and the dead, and the stupidity of it all, just because you said so."

Claude's bitter smile darkened, but he knew there was no point in arguing against her. What she said was completely true, and worse, he now understood just how futile his own dream was in the face of it all. Holst and Nader had proven that some sort of truce was possible, but what he was searching for, the permanence of peace and unity, simply could not be forced upon the Alliance, or Almyra no matter how hard he wished for it. As galling as it was, the professor had been right when she had said that Fódlan simply was not ready to be unified under one singular banner. There was too much history, too much blood, and too many grudges to be put to rest before his dream could ever be achieved... and after all the fighting, he had no interest in seeking out more for his own selfish wants. He nodded, tired and pained as he agreed with her quietly, "You're right. You're right about everything. About the Locket, about Almyra, about my dreams... You're right. I lied, and I schemed, and I used you and everyone else because I wanted to bring about my ideal world... and in the end, I lost, and achieved nothing. It doesn't absolve me of what I did, though... and all I can do is offer you an apology for it. I know you don't have any reason to believe me when I say it, because all I've done is lie since I came here, but... I'm still sorry. Sorry for using you, and sorry for hurting you. I regret that more than anything."

"You regret that more than losing out on your dream?"

Claude grimaced, but he knew that if anyone had the right to ask him such a question, it certainly was her. After all, whose heart had he stomped on the most in his entire endeavour? The Locket in Fódlan's Throat wasn't simply an obstacle to her, after all. It was her home. Her legacy. And to know he had planned to uproot it, to tear down her family's sacrifices and obligations simply for his own dreams had hurt her more deeply than he had wanted to imagine. It had of course been so simple for him, but... It would never have been so simple for her. It didn't matter how much she laughed and smiled, dodging her duties and pretending to be a weak and hapless maiden... because in truth, she loved her home, she loved her family, and more than anything else she wanted to make her brother proud. Her biggest fear was to disappoint those who counted on her, and he knew, with a twisted sense of pain, that he had been the one she counted on, and he had been the one to disappoint her.

"I can't choose... because I want to believe that the people of Fódlan and the people of Almyra can coexist together. That the people all over this continent can coexist together peacefully... but the way I went about it was all wrong." Claude confessed with a deep, aching sigh, and the bitter words on his tongue stung like bile as he spoke with complete honestly. His pride and his ego had been irreparably damaged by his failure, and he was well aware that because of it, his seat in Almyra may not be there waiting for his return... but that was the price he had to pay for being unable to do what he wished to do. He had come to accept that, as painful as it was, but to do so meant he also had to accept the other failures he had racked up along the way. He raised his head, meeting Hilda's cold stare head-on as he answered her truthfully, "I still want my dream to come true, and I regret the fact that I couldn't make it happen with my own two hands... but I also regret that with those same two hands, I hurt the first person I ever called my friend in the process. That much is the truth, Hilda. The complete and honest truth."

"You're still so selfish. Nothing that the professor said got into your head, did it?" Hilda mused with a low sigh, and she ran a tired hand through her hair as she remembered with a painful sort of pleasure how shocked he had looked that day, laid out flat because of the professor's keen punch to his jaw. For the first time she had seen him completely caught unawares, and when the professor had stood over him and called him a fool, she had wanted to cheer. She had said everything that she had wanted to say, without any sugar-coating or restraint, and Hilda regretted the fact that she had never been able to do the same. "I won't pretend to understand what world you came from, or why you came here to try to make your dream a reality, because you won't tell me all your secrets and I'm not interested in learning them anymore. But I wish you'd at least have learned that you can't just interfere in the lives of others, and make decisions for them that they don't want."

"I don't intend to do that anymore. I probably won't be able to, once I return home. I'll be bound again by obligation and by rules, but... this time, I've made a promise to myself that I'm going to work within those boundaries. No more scheming, and no more lying to get what I want. Just plain, old-fashioned hard work." Claude agreed with her with a small, sage nod, though he felt a bittersweet pulse of regret even as he admitted to the new path that lay ahead of him. It would be so difficult, wrapping himself up in chains once more, but... What choice did he have? He had watched the new leaders of the continent with close and envious eyes, had seen the way they all bowed under the weight and expectations of their people, and he had come away with a new sort of respect for them. Respect, and a bitter sense of understanding that in a strange, twisted sort of way, out of all of them, he may have been the lucky one. "Lorenz is inheriting my mess... but he'll do better for the Alliance than I ever could. He loves his home... He'll make it a place to be truly proud of. He's stuffy and proud, but that pride will make him work to make things better. All of the underhanded and filthy things that the Alliance has done, he'll wash away and repair... He won't be satisfied until he fixes every single flaw he sees. And the Alliance will be all the better for it. And I think the same can be said for Faerghus and Andrestia... That their new rulers will do the same for their homes, and bring about a real, long-lasting peace... and I want to be a part of that, too. A real, working part of that peace, and not a hindrance. Almyra has a place in this world, too, but we can't just demand it, or force it... We need to attend to ourselves, just the same way that the other territories have."

"A few moons ago, I would have wished you luck. But now, I couldn't care less about what happens to you. I'll hope for the sake of Almyra that it can grow just as much as every other country has to, but that's as far as my goodwill goes." Hilda replied icily, and she was vaguely aware of her body trembling as her pent up wrath almost begged for her to take a swing at him for daring to say such noble-sounding words after all that had been done. She, however, knew her limits, and she could only grind her teeth and speak through them tightly, "I don't want anyone to die anymore. To fight anymore. Neither here, in Garreg Mach, or at the Locket. All hostilities have to end. If you really think of me as a friend, if you really care about me, then that will be the first thing you do. Make reparations to my family, and everyone else that you hurt. Then, maybe, I'll be able to think that you're being honest."

"I can't promise you that I'll have that kind of power... but I'll do what I can when I return home." Claude answered with a slow shake of his head, and he was aware of his honest regret as he wondered just what the king would think when he came trudging back from the mire of the war with nothing to his name but what he had left with, and the woman he hoped to marry at his side. He doubted that all of his efforts would amount to nothing, but he had no real trophy to present, either. It hadn't been him who had stopped the civil war, and it hadn't been him who had ended Edelgard, or Nemesis, either. He folded his arms, a bitter smile curling at his lips as he ran a gloved hand tiredly through his hair, "I made a bet, and I came out lacking. I'm running home with my tail tucked between my legs... I might not have any power waiting for me when I get back... but I do have my experiences from here, and all the knowledge I've managed to dig up. That will at least prove I'm not totally useless. I can use that, in any way I can, to help improve relations between House Goneril and Almyra. And I will. I just... I'm sorry if I can't do more. I want to do more... I hope you believe that."

"You could have told me who you were, you know. I wouldn't have judged you." Hilda found the words escaping her lips despite herself, and from the shocked look on Claude's face, she realized he hadn't expected her to say such a thing, either. However, now that they had been said... Hilda sighed, and allowed her tired body to sag onto the edge of her cot in defeat. She hated being angry... Hated wanting to hurt. It just simply wasn't in her nature, and she knew it showed as she leaned heavily on her knees and looked at him from under her bangs, "For someone who plays up being an outsider so much, you're really not that different from any of us... Do you think that no one at all would have understood? Leonie did, and she hated any noble she came across before the war broke out, and look at her now. If you could trust her with the truth, you could have trusted us, too. But you didn't, and so what you expected, us not trusting you in return, was exactly what you got. You didn't arrive here as an outsider, Claude. You made yourself into one. That's why things ended up the way they did."

"A self-fulfilling prophecy, huh...? Yeah. You might be right." Claude nodded slowly as the logic of her words bit down hard into his chest and warned him that his guilt was much more a double-edged sword than he had initially believed it to be. He had sat by and silently listened, time and time again, as the future king and the professor wondered how much could have been avoided if Edelgard had chosen a different path in her pursuit for revenge and her ideal world, and now he could see the same picture being drawn for himself. It was not something he wanted to look at, as it made him bristle with ego and anger, but that, too, was something he understood he had to accept. No matter what he did, said, or how he acted, he was no better than her, or his counterpart in the Kingdom. "Nah, you're probably totally right... but I can't undo the past. I'm stuck with my decisions now, and I need to reap the consequences of that choice. I'm going home, too, and I'll take all of it back with me, just like you will... and making reparations to your house will be the first thing I'll try to do. I promise."

Hilda didn't say anything for a moment as she watched him, looking at her with earnest, hopeful eyes, and she was painfully reminded of how many times he had grinned at her in mischief and made her remember that it was okay to simply be herself as a student. He knew her secrets, and he played along with her games, and so she had been more than happy to stand beside him even when others rankled under his orders, and his eccentric and annoying ways. They were partners in crime, so it made sense for them to be so attracted to one another... and despite it all, a large part of her still missed that dynamic, as much as he had broken it long before she had been willing to accept it.

"You're going to forgive him?!"

Despite her best efforts, her words rang out out and loud in her private quarters, and even from her bed, Hilda looked up, both aghast and angry to hear such words coming from Ignatz. He was standing at her bedside, having just left the comfort of her satin sheets and pillows to begin to dress, knowing just as well as she did that if they were caught that Holst likely would rain holy hell upon the two of them. It didn't really matter that everyone knew, it wasn't as if she was afraid of anyone's opinions on who her bedmate was or why, but Ignatz had always proved to be the wiser of the two of them, and his strict adherence to decorum, at least for the master of the house, was enough for him to slip away early even if she all but begged him to stay for the night. Now, though, all thoughts and ideas of secrecy, of agreeing to his reasoning if for his sake rather than anyone else's was gone, and Hilda swung herself out of the comfort of her bed, holding the sheets over herself as she turned on the hurriedly-dressing man and demanded again hotly, "What kind of nonsense are you talking about?!"

Ignatz didn't speak for a minute, his fumbling hands tightening the belt on his trousers and grasping for his shirt before he would allow himself to turn and face his righteously angry lover. It had been a risky topic to bring up in the bedroom, but she had been the one in need of venting, and he did not make a habit of lying to her when she had questioned for his thoughts on the entirety of the mess Claude had brought down upon the Alliance. He allowed himself just enough time to adjust his shirt before he turned slightly, watching as Hilda perched on the edge of her bed, glaring at him like she had the power to set him alight with her gaze alone if she wished to. He could understand her wrath, could understand the pain behind it, and it made him hesitate again, if only for a moment before he knew there was no point in keeping his true feelings hidden from her. He could do it to anyone else, he had done it to almost everyone else for quite a majority of his life, but Hilda was different... Hilda deserved his honesty.

He slowly sank himself back down next to her, and he reached slowly, carefully for her free hand to rest his own overtop of it. She allowed for his touch, though the frown furrowing her brow didn't lessen at all as she continued to wait for his explanation. He began slowly, trying to find both the right words and the proper way to convey them, and he was glad that she gave him that moment to collect his thoughts, as clearly she wanted to hear them, even if she didn't entirely agree with him before he had even spoke, "I'm afraid that I have to. Claude is Claude, no matter what it is that he's done, because before all of this, he was my house leader, my commander, and more importantly, my friend. I don't agree with what he did, but if I never forgive him, it would be like holding a dagger inside of my chest for the rest of my life. Never letting the wound heal, so I can stay angry at him... I don't want my future to hold those kind of grudges. Even it means being the first, or the only person to forgive him. It's something that I feel that I must do."

"Why?"

That question made him grimace, and he felt that age-old pulse of grief and self-loathing that had been haunting his steps for as long as he could possibly remember. Still, with that pain came the image of his best friend, and the thought gave him courage, and he tightened his grip on Hilda's hand in a comforting squeeze before he explained gently, "Because Raphael forgave me. Raphael forgave Lorenz' family. At every turn, Raphael let go because he knew it had to be done in order for the wounds to close, and for him to be a better person. He doesn't talk about it, he doesn't think about it, because sometimes it still hurts, but... I think he'd hurt a lot more, if he wasn't such a good person to begin with. I want to live my life like Raphael does. I want to be a man like Raphael, so that when I smile, I mean it with a hundred percent of my being. I'm going to forgive Claude because it's what Raphael would do... and because Claude deserves a chance to change his ways. If we all shun him, if we all refuse to forgive him... What incentive does he have to ever make things right?"

Hilda had no answer, watching the pain flickering through the artist's eyes and knowing without further explanation exactly what it was that he was speaking of. He had told her everything, with no mincing of words, and no hesitation of just how bloody he believed his hands to be because of a decision that he had never made. He had always expected his best friend to carry a grudge, to secretly loathe him for the circumstances that led to their current present, and he had floundered with confusion for so long when he had found that nothing of the sort simply lived in Raphael's giant heart. He called it all chance or coincidence, refusing to blame him or anyone else for the death of his parents, and he had given out forgiveness with ease to those who had needed it. He had buried whatever negative feelings he held with his parents, moving on with a puffed-out chest and his chin held high, and they all were proud and envious of him in equal measures for the strength they did not have when it came to their own personal griefs and failings.

Perhaps that was why he had left the Golden Deer to join with the Blue Lions, to find perspective in others so bound by duty and obligation in ways that his classmates were not, but no one had ever had the courage to question him. He had swept along like a spring breeze, bringing sweetness into their lives for a moment before making his way on through, and to say they had missed him sorely was a massive understatement. But he had grown underneath the professor's tutelage, and all of them were proud of him for how far along he had come, when he had already begun the race with such a gigantic head start. He was a knight in all senses of the word, from his power to his kindness, and Hilda could well understand why Ignatz wanted so badly to emulate him. Raphael had found freedom in forgiveness... Had found freedom with a smile and a warm heart. Who wouldn't want to at least try to follow in his footsteps, if it meant that they could heal just a little bit, too?

Folding herself into his side, Hilda's frown moved to her lap as Ignatz easily wrapped an arm comfortingly about her bare shoulders. He was warm but surprisingly sturdy, steadying her without complaint, and she felt her heart ache with the depth of her love for him. He was not Raphael, but she loved him all the same, and she admitted that his willingness to put aside his anger to find a way to move on in peace made her proud for him. He had struggled so much with his guilt and his anger, trying desperately to put logic to emotions that defied them, and this approach was far more healthier than any he had yet tried. It was good for him, a choice he was making for his own sake, and even if she could not entirely comprehend it through her own hurt... How could she ever want to tear that chance of peace away from him? She sighed, heavy and tired even as she rested her cheek on his shoulder and mumbled into it sourly, "I really hate how logical you make that sound..."

"It's all right, Hilda. I'm not saying he deserves to be forgiven. Or that what he did can be forgiven. That's not what I'm saying at all. You don't have to forgive him, and I would never hold it against you if you didn't. He was your best friend, and it's okay for you to be in pain, and for you to not be ready. You might never be ready. That's okay, too." Ignatz' voice was low and comforting, a soft and sincere mutter into her rose-coloured hair, and the tender squeeze about her shoulders was also a pleasant clench in her heart as she understood the depths of his kindness and yearned all the more for him for it. He had always been that way, much too sweet for her to ever really feel right in taking advantage of, but he had never met her with anything else but a kind smile that had melted her heart and hardened her desire to be a woman worthy of it. He kissed her temple, the action so smooth and natural that it brought a flush of rouge into her cheeks even as he reassured her sweetly, "You have to make a decision you'll be happy with, just as I have to. That's all I want. For you to be okay, at the end of everything, because you did what you believed to be the right thing."

'The right thing...' The words had been echoing in her ears ever since she had returned to Garreg Mach, and now, as she watched Claude watching her, she could hear the refrain becoming louder and louder. As much as she loved her partner, and she loved him dearly, she still could not admit that she knew what the right thing to do was. She had spent too much of her life dodging the things that were uncomfortable and painful, and even now she wanted nothing more than to duck and hide and pretend that this conversation was not happening. Yet, Ignatz had not, and would not hide, no matter what it made him feel, or how others would likely look at him for it. She envied him for that strength, envied him as much as she loved him, and instinctively she brushed her bangs behind her ear as she felt that warmth of his kiss again on her temple when he comforted and consoled her against taking action too early.

"Write me, then." The words came quietly, surprising both herself and Claude, but as they escaped her lips she felt that pressure on her heart loosening just a little bit. There was still so much anger, so much hurt and betrayal, but she knew she was right in not letting those feelings go just yet. She wasn't ready to forgive, but that did not mean that she was wrong. She could take her time, and she intended to do so as her eyes flickered up, meeting Claude's surprised stare as she repeated a little more firmly, "Write me when you return home, about everything you intend to do, and how it's going for you. I want to know about every step you're going to take. One day, you and I will be in the same position that Nader and my brother are in... and I want to make sure that I'm ready when that day comes. We'll make things better, for both of our people, if we start to cooperate now rather than later. So keep me in the loop this time... and maybe when we see each other again, we'll be able to work together like we used to."

Claude's smile was awkward in return to her words, but there was a familiar glint in his eyes that covered up the hurt and guilt that he had been carrying around in them recently. It was an olive branch, with no promises attached, but it was far more than he had hoped to gain. He still took it it eagerly, and he nodded, not entirely sure if he was reassuring her or himself as he answered her with that age-old air of superiority and pomp, "I'll absolutely bury you in letters, then, Hilda. But that means you best stay in House Goneril's territory if you want them to get to you regularly. You don't plan on leaving the Locket anytime soon, do you?"

"I have to help my brother out with restoring the territory, and Ignatz is going to be helping me. We'll be there for awhile. I might travel a bit after, just to see what the Alliance is really like for myself, but I know my place is at home with my family." Hilda answered with a little shrug of her shoulders, but her lips curled into a smile at the thought of standing beside her brother, learning all he had to teach, and one day taking over for him when he released the reigns into her hands. He seemed to think her so capable and strong, and though she still was terrified of disappointing him... The belief that he had, that Ignatz had, in her ability to lead and inspire her family's vassals gave her hope. Still, it was also a long ways away, and she admitted with a low laugh, "Still, that's a few years out, with any hope. My big brother isn't ready to step down just yet. Send your letters, and I'll write you back. Maybe we both can learn a bit from each other, this time around."

"That sounds good to me. Real good. Thanks, Hilda."

Garreg Mach (Dormitories)

Noontime

"It's fine, she doesn't need me hovering about like a mother hen-"

"Is that how you view checking in on your sister, or is that just your pride talking?"

Dimitri heard the light bickering before he saw the two in question as he round the corner of stairs that led out from the mess hall, and he was both unsurprised but somewhat amused to see that Warin and Shamir were standing not a stone's throw away from Raine's quarters, and bantering. Both looked surprisingly relaxed considering the growing tension that had been building in silence ever since their return from the battlefield, but he supposed that being back in familiar territory, with everyone relatively in good shape, had steeled their moods against what was to come in the coming weeks. While most were now in the process of packing their things, and making arrangements for their travel back to their home territories, a select few were lingering in breathless wait for the last confrontation. However, the circumstances on their return had forced a delay, and none of the Blue Lions had done more than send a letter to their families, explaining that they would be returning at the end of the moon, or possibly longer depending on how much time it took for their commander and professor to fully heal.

Raine's wounds, though not as serious as they could have been, had still called for a fair amount of bed-rest, and almost everyone had agreed that she should take her time healing in her own quarters rather than in the infirmary. The more space that was put between her and Rhea the better, and the healers visited her on a strict rotation with firm orders for her to simply stay put and relax as their magic worked its comfort on her battered body. She had obeyed the orders with surprising demureness, but Dimitri was well aware it was simply a facade. She wanted to be at her best, mentally and physically, before she and her brother confronted Rhea head-on, and if it took a few weeks for her ribs to knit then she wasn't about to upend the healing process for something as foolish as ego. So she sat in her room, entertaining her students as they visited in a steady stream, and bidding farewell to the others who were returning home to attend to their new duties.

There were quite a few who had already taken their leave of the monastery, and many more were in preparation for their travels, and he had to admit that seeing some go was strangely bittersweet. Ferdinand could no longer ignore the call to return to the Empire and attend to its repairs, and Dorothea had gone along with him, though the two had clearly been loathe to leave upon seeing Raine's condition. The two had spent quite a long time in her quarters, speaking softly but seriously of their intentions for their home, but she had finally sent them off with a kind smile, a wish of good fortune, and a promise to see them again soon, and give her own aid to the rebuilding process once she was well and capable of it.

Dimitri himself had spent the better part of the last week sending out orders and comparing notes with his fellow nobles, and his and Ferdinand's meeting had lasted almost as long as his had with Raine. There was little doubt that in the interim of the Empire's rebuilding that the Aiger household would take command of Andrestia's people, but Ferdinand had made it clear that he didn't intend for it to last longer than necessary. He would put all his energy, and all the manpower he had loyal to him and the rebellion towards reconstruction and aid to his people, and when they found their footing again, he would withdraw from the chains of command. He had surprised Dimitri with his solution to the empty throne, explaining calmly but firmly that he believed his people needed, more than anything, a voice to represent them rather than a ruler put forth simply due to tradition or power. He would select a handful of men and women who had proven loyal to the rebellion and to the Empire, and give the smallfolk and nobility a chance to elect their own leader once they had the strength to do so. The Empire would choose its own ruler, its own path to forge forward after Edelgard's tyranny, and the houses would unite to do whatever good they could do in education, rebuilding, and diplomacy in tandem with their new emperor or empress after the election.

The idea had been a surprising one to Dimitri, and he had been forced to bite his tongue as he wondered if it was Ferdinand's humbleness, or his pure belief in his people, that made him think that he would not be in command for long. Already support was rallying for the son of the former prime minister, and it had been at the desperate urging of his fellow nobles and smallfolk that he was returning to help command the relief efforts in Andrestia. Small forces from both the Kingdom and the Alliance were being dispatched to aid the war-torn regions, proving that all three territories could and would work together just as fiercely in peace as they had in the war, and Ferdinand had expressed his belief that by working side-by-side with those in need would be exactly what the Empire needed in order to turn itself away from the poisonous ideals that Edelgard had beaten into the people.

Ferdinand had spoken passionately of his idea of a system of widespread education, of academies and schools available to all, orphan, smallfolk, and noble children alike, and his enthusiasm had been bolstered by Dorothea's warm smile and pointed reminders that it was out of virtue of bloodlines, or unsavoury deeds and desperation that led most in the Empire to receive the power and merit that Edelgard had valued so highly. If every child, from the very beginning of their lives, had a chance to learn what they as nobles or wealthy patrons had in their time in Garreg Mach, then those children would become a force all on their own for the growth and betterment of their country. The wealth that the nobles sat on, in both coin and education, needed to be distributed across the country as a whole, and then and only then would they find themselves capable of raising themselves up from whatever position they had been born in.

Dimitri himself had lingered on Ferdinand's proposal long after he had left, and he had written of it at length to Rodrigue in hopes of a second opinion on possibly instituting such a scheme in the Kingdom, as well. The price of the endeavour would be a high one, in both wealth and resources, but Ferdinand's passion had ignited a hope in him that perhaps it would be worth it, if such a massive project could be lifted off the ground with all hands supporting it. The finer requirements and needs of it escaped him at the moment, as he knew he could never invent such a system on his own, but he would not deny that the fruits of such a labour would benefit everyone he soon stood to rule over. It was worth the effort of investigating, of attempting, and he would watch and aid Ferdinand in his project, in hopes of bringing a similar hope to the Kingdom, and perhaps even their surrounding territories of Sreng and Duscur, in due time.

It was exhausting, spending night after night buried in his missives and books, trying to prepare himself for the coronation that awaited him when he finally left Garreg Mach, but Raine had gently encouraged him not to worry about her and to tend to his duties. She helped where she could, offering advice when asked and giving her own unique view of things as an untaught mercenary, but for the past several nights they had slept apart as she healed from her injuries, and he attended to his duties. The thought of more to come, and worse, in person, made him balk at the thought of returning to Fhirdiad, but he put it aside time after time by burying it in his self-given duties of attending to Raine during the daytime.

She was rarely bereft of company, as those who were leaving and those who were staying were always dropping by to check on her condition, and the healers were strict in their routines... but he had taken on every other task she usually would handle, ensuring normalcy with his lingering classmates, and ensuring she didn't miss her meals by delivering them to her personally three times a day. It kept him busy, and more importantly kept him near her side in the day if they couldn't be together at night, and her welcoming smile every time he walked through the door gave him more energy than anything else could to spur him to work even harder when they had to part at dusk. He would not bring her back to Fhirdiad only to abandon her because of how much he had left undone, and with Rodrigue working in his stead, he was hopeful that perhaps when the time came to leave that she would finally get a chance to learn what true peace really felt like.

The thought of the tray still in his hand brought him back roughly out of his musings, and he shook his head several times to shake away the cobwebs that had been taking up space between his ears. He had been working too long and too late, and had been prone to drifting off in thought far too much for his liking lately. Warin and Shamir were still bantering, and from the sounds of it, the sniper was trying to convince her lover to go visit his sister, though he seemed to be dodging about her attempts like he was fleeing her arrows. Straightening his back, Dimitri tried to look as casual and nonchalant as he possibly could manage as he rounded the corner entirely, announcing his presence with what he hoped was a bemused, "Are you two here to visit Raine? I could hear your bickering all the way from the mess hall."

"Passing through." Warin answered crisply before Shamir could speak for him, and he was rewarded with a swift elbow into the side for his efforts. He winced despite himself, shooting a look over his shoulder at his partner, but she merely smiled at him cattily, clearly not caring that she had one-upped him in front of the prince. He shook his head, realizing she was likely not about to let him off so easily, and he turned to Dimitri as he eyed the covered tray he was carrying, "Besides, it looks as if you've got her meal for the hour anyway, so I don't want to interrupt. Both of you have been busy. We can stop by at another time."

"By all means, you can take this in for me, if you wish to. Raine wouldn't mind my absence." Dimitri shook his head in return, gesturing absently to the meals he had taken from the hall for Raine's sake. He knew full well she wouldn't care less who delivered her meals, or if they even were delivered, so long as she had some company in the interim. Laying in bed, hour after hour, was painfully boring. She had already gone through most of her tactical treatises, and most of the books that had been given to her by her students. She couldn't make the trip by herself to the library, and so instead she was stuck either sleeping, or waiting impatiently for someone to come by and break the monotony. "Truly, it isn't a problem. I imagine that the two of you have much to discuss as it is."

"There's not much we need to talk about that hasn't already been said..." Warin answered somewhat vaguely, but he raised a hand and idly scratched at his chin as he spoke. His eyes seemed distracted, flickering from the door that hid his sister and to the greenhouse farther to the south, and he dropped his hand again before sighing, "We've already come to an agreement on... the matter of the future. I'd rather not remind her of such things while she's healing, and meant to be resting... She is healing well, yeah?"

"She is. Her shoulder is back to full use, and within a week her ribs should be fully knitted again. She may still have some tenderness moving, but she insists that she'll manage just fine." Dimitri answered promptly, and he watched as a look of relief and pleasure passed over both Shamir and Warin's faces at his explanation. Both of them seemed to have been awkwardly avoiding her quarters, though he knew they had visited her at least once since her "banishment", but... He tilted his head a little, knowing it was not entirely his place, but still forced to speak, "If I may be so bold... Has something occurred between the two of you? Are you worried for her?"

"I... I know that she's in good hands here. It's nothing like that." Again Warin answered distractedly, fidgeting with his gauntlets as he again looked from his sister's dorm and back over his shoulder to the greenhouse. His navy eyes were dark, though not so much with that familiar cold anger, but rather something almost approaching anxiety. He glanced to Shamir as if for help, but she pointedly turned her head, and looking at a loss, he could only shake his head before continuing somewhat awkwardly, "We haven't had a fight, or anything of the sort, either..."

"This blockhead is fretting over telling her that we've formally become engaged." Shamir rapped Warin in the back of the head with her knuckles, causing the mercenary to flinch and bow his head, and Dimitri blinked several times as he tried to process the words. It took him a moment for his good eye to see the ring that was now adorning Shamir's hand, and when he looked to Warin's, he was startled to find that a mate had been affixed to his finger, too. It was a simple thing, a thin band of silver with vine-like engravings biting deep into the metal, but the way Warin immediately pulled his hand to his chest proved that it meant much more than it looked. Shamir's smile again turned teasing, and she nudged him fondly in the shoulder before asking, "Why not show the princeling, Warin? Or does my taste not suit you?"

"That's-! You don't play fair, do you know that...?" Warin ground out between gritted teeth, but Shamir could only laugh at him, completely unafraid and rubbing more salt into his wounds as she did so. He looked sharply to Dimitri, wondering what the prince's reaction would be, but he was caught short as his expression hit him like the broad side of an axe. He was staring at his ring with an almost bittersweet smile gracing his expression, and while there was indeed a look of happiness on his face, there was an equal amount of longing there, too. The look sobered him, and silently he raised his hand to allow the prince to get a good look at its new adornment before he explained quietly, "I had already given her my father's ring, quite a long time ago... Now, I suppose, we've made it formally official. We've no plans to wed immediately, but it's just... a factor of comfort for us."

"I'm glad for you. Both of you. I imagine Raine shall feel the same, though I will admit she likely will not be surprised. It's good to see that something beautiful can bloom in the midst of all the chaos we suffered." Dimitri replied sincerely, and his smile was earnest as he looked at the two suddenly quite abashed mercenaries. He had heard whispers of their plans to leave Garreg Mach together, following in Captain Jeralt's footsteps as a mercenary band with the goal to hunt down the scattered remnants of the Agarthans still lingering in the shadows, but no one had dared to ask them for certain. They had kept their relationship fiercely guarded, despite the fact that it was almost an open secret to whoever knew the two of them well enough, and to see them both wearing rings and now laying things out in the open... He smiled and nodded, musing idly as he did, "I wish you good fortune in the future, and pray for your marriage, when you decide to have a ceremony. Or, if you plan to have a ceremony, I mean. Forgive me, I forgot that the two of you do not worship."

"A ceremony likely won't be in the cards, but a party or two might... There's no point in celebrating alone, though I don't think either of us are that keen on rushing into things. We've plenty of time ahead of us for that." Shamir waved off his apology with a little flick of her fingers, but her wine-coloured eyes were warm and kind as she looked to the rather flustered prince. His words were sincere and sweet, and she was secretly rather enthused by his support, but she also noticed how awkward he looked, and a glance to Warin at her side proved that he had noticed such a thing, too. "We'll let you know when we intend to make things official. While we've no need of a church or a formal service, I'd still expect you and Raine to be there for us, as we'd be for you, when your time comes."

"I... admit I'm not quite sure that time will be coming as you seem to be." Dimitri admitted after a long, pained pause, and he lowered his eyes to his feet as that accursed trinket in his pocket seemed to triple in weight to remind him that it was there. He hadn't let it out of his sight since he had regained it, and was always carrying it on his person, but only when he was alone did he dare to take it out to examine it. Raine had no idea he had it, and each time he thought he had mustered enough courage to show it to her, or even speak of it... He froze, and he could do nothing until she gently shook him out of it, and grounded him with gentler, easier topics. He shook his head slowly, glancing sidelong to the pocket where his ring sat innocently inside, and he sighed as he admitted, "It... isn't as simple as I wish it could be. At least... for myself, it isn't."

"You're a traditional man. You have to be, considering your title, and your heritage. I'd imagine you'd feel better, knowing if someone gave you their approval." Warin noted with raised eyebrows, and though Dimitri did not answer him in words, the way he flinched and seemed to slump down on himself proved that he had hit the mark. His eyes moved again, though this time drifting north-east, and he allowed himself a long, quiet sigh before he spoke quietly, thoughtfully, "My father trusted you, all those years ago... I doubt that he'd have changed his mind... but he isn't here to give you approval, or for you to ask permission of. And I know you wouldn't dare ask me, either. I don't own my sister, and she makes her own choices in life. You respect that about her, more than anyone else does. It puts you in quite an odd position, doesn't it?"

"Indeed..."

"Then don't ask. Just do. On your own time, whenever you feel it's right... and know that I approve of it, just as my father did. You'll give her a good home to go back to, one where she can be free to be whatever she wants, and one where she's loved and well-protected." Warin's words were brisk, and his tone almost flippant, but the look on his face was deadly serious as he watched Dimitri watching him with hesitancy written all over his features. The words didn't come easily to him, and he could feel the bile in his throat that rose on nothing but sheer instinct, but he swallowed it down, continuing with an errant flick of his fingers, "I couldn't ask for anything more for her. You might call it a shackle, but I think that's something she needs to decide for herself. And she won't get a chance to decide unless you give her the opportunity... So, ask. Ask with full knowledge that you've my approval, and you don't need to beg for my favour. It'll be strange to call a princeling my brother, but if it makes Raine happy, I can stomach almost anything."

Shamir smiled, watching as red began to creep into the tips of Warin's ears as he finished speaking, and she wasn't at all surprised when her lover dismissed himself with a low mutter of needing to attend to an errand before Dimitri could think of a reply. She let him go without a fight, knowing full well how awkward and ashamed of himself he felt, and a glimpse at the lost look on Dimitri's face told her that he wasn't far behind him in terms of emotions. The thought brought a chuckle out of her, and she shook her head as she watched Warin marching off, quickly disappearing over the hills towards the greenhouse before she remarked errantly, "You need to forgive him... He's been having a very difficult time coming to terms with things as of late. I think you can understand where he's coming from, yeah?"

"I... believe so..." Dimitri answered hesitantly, and he fought the urge to reach into his pocket to finger the ring that was pulling like a stone towards the earth. How did such a small trinket feel so ungodly heavy? He didn't know, and he was frankly scared to ask, and he watched as Shamir turned to him and looked at him with a surprisingly kind expression on her face. He was abruptly abashed, knowing she could see through him almost as easily as Warin could, and he turned his head, scratching at his cheek awkwardly before he, too, muttered, "It's easy to forget, considering his bearing, but... he, too, has lost everything to the Church of Seiros... He, too, has been mourning, for a very long time. All of this must be just as difficult for him as it is for Raine, if not even moreso. The guilt always weighs the heaviest on the survivors."

"It does... and he's carrying the lion's share of it. Everything that went wrong, he's convinced that he could have changed it if only he'd have been there... He knows it's foolish, that he can't create miracles or change time, but emotion isn't logical." Shamir agreed with a nod, and she was glad, though somewhat bitterly, to know that Dimitri understood without her needing to explain a single thing. Of course he would, considering just how similar they truly were, but the two men were also proud, and very resistant to the idea of sharing their experiences with one another. Warin even moreso, if only because his entire personality had been built about the facets of being an elder brother, and a future mercenary captain. "But he means it, when he says that he supports the two of you. It scares him, giving his sister into someone else's care, but he does trust you with her. He'd never give you approval aloud otherwise. He'd simply keep his mouth shut if he didn't."

"He knows he doesn't need to give me anything, doesn't he?" The question felt foolish the moment it left his mouth, but Dimitri couldn't help but leap on it all the same. Raine was gentle in the way she spoke of her brother, always softening her words and her tone when she spoke of him, and that was her right as his little sister. Shamir, however, had no such need to sugar-coat her language, and she never did, which was something Dimitri had always appreciated about her. She would tell him the truth as she saw it, without hesitation or remorse, and he was astounded by how desperate he suddenly felt for that honesty after what Warin had just said to him, "He knows that as much as I want his approval, his forgiveness... that I don't deserve it. He owes me absolutely nothing. He could deny me anything, and I would obey him if he wished for it. He's the only family Raine has left."

"That's exactly why he's being the way he is." Shamir explained with a light laugh, and she couldn't help but smile as she watched Dimitri's brow furrow even farther into a confused frown. The two men really were quite alike, even if they would never truly understand it. Both of them loved so fiercely, so passionately, and thought of little else beyond what they cared for. Their assessments of themselves were always cold and brutal, unfair and blind, but she supposed that was the way of those who considered themselves failures or sinners. If no one in the outside world would hold them accountable... They at least would. "He won't say it, he may not even really know it, but he sees a lot of himself in you. That makes it very hard for him to truly hate you. And when you bring Raine so much happiness, that makes it even worse. He knows that his life and Raine's were never meant to stay on the same path forever... He was always looking for someone who would take care of her, when it came time for them to part. He trusts you, because he sees his own fire in you. You'll keep Raine safe, even from herself, no matter what it will cost. That's enough."

"And you?"

"Mm... It's strange to say it, considering everything, but I know that when the chips are down... I would do absolutely anything for those two." Shamir remarked slowly, and her smile turned sadly sweet as she let her eyes flicker to the door that was hiding the woman who would, hopefully one day, become her sister-in-law. The idea was strange, it made her recoil in wonder and awkwardness, but there was a warmth in her chest also that she couldn't deny no matter how hard she tried. Dimitri understood, she could see it in the way he was watching her both searchingly but with an odd familiarity as he, too, put together the pieces she had done when she had given over her ring to Warin, and she mused idly, "Raine is a good woman... At first, she was someone I was satisfied to follow, because she was a good commander. Somewhere along the way, she became someone that... made me proud of myself to be under her command. We're not quite close friends, we've always been professional with one another, even though she knew full well that I was involved with her brother, but... This "family" of theirs... I want to be a part of it. Not just with Warin, but with her. And you, as well. Anyone who cares for them, who would fight for them... is someone I want to protect, and fight alongside."

Dimitri watched her silently, musing with great surprise that he could completely understand what it was that had drawn Warin to her. That honesty, that completely inability to be anything but forthright, was something that would have attracted a man like Warin almost instantly. Compounding that with her ability to admit that she knew what she wanted, even if it did make her feel awkward, or unsure of herself... It was no wonder that the two had become so close. Their values were shared, and Shamir cared openly and fiercely for him, and anything that he deemed important. He felt the same, and the sudden sense of kinship made him smile awkwardly as he, too, admitted, "I feel the same way... Though, I admit, it's... still something I am trying to come to terms with. This idea of "family"... I want it, but I fear it, too. I don't doubt what I can offer Raine as a man in my position. I am logical enough to know that I can provide her with whatever it is she needs or wants... but still I fear asking, and..."

"Making it real." Shamir finished his sentence for him with a knowing nod, and the look of surprise was one that made her smile somewhat wryly. They really were too alike, and it was beginning to become amusing as she wondered just how else they would parrot one another if she chose to stay and dig about a little. There was plenty of time for that later, though, and she filed it away silently before she reassured him with a flick of her fingers, "I understand exactly what you mean. Don't rush on anyone's account. Take your time to think of the words you want to say, and how you want to say them. You don't have a time limit, even if it feels like you do. Raine will follow you anywhere, with or without a promise of marriage. When all this ends in Garreg Mach, you'll still be together, and you'll be able to ask whenever you'd like. The most important thing is that you say the truth. Everything else is just extra fat to be trimmed away."

"You make it sound so simple... but perhaps that is what it is. Perhaps I'm overcomplicating things... You've given me a lot to think about." Dimitri nodded deeply, grateful beyond words for her advice and kindness, especially considering she had owed him nothing. She was Warin's partner before she was anything to him, or even to Raine, but she had still stayed when Warin had fled to offer him her advice because she felt it right of her to do. He was glad of it, though a part of him found he was far happier for Warin's sake than he was his own. That kindness of hers, blunt but strong, was something he clearly needed... and Shamir seemed to have plenty of it to give. "Thank you, Shamir. And, if I may beg a favour, could you please likewise give Warin my gratitude when you see him...? I cannot promise to do as he's asked right away, as I do think I will need more time, but... His approval means the world to me. It's not something I would have asked for, nor was it something I expected... but I treasure it, nonetheless."

"I'll play the messenger, but only for you. And only as long as you don't make it a habit." Shamir answered with a light shrug of her shoulders, and she turned on her heel as Dimitri smiled at her in thanks. That warm look on his face seemed to clear away the lines and the weariness, and brought him back to a young man in the prime of his life, rather than a worn down and ragged king-to-be. He took too much on his shoulders, just like the woman he loved, but together they'd be a fine support system for one another. She knew well from experience that they would do just fine without her or Warin to hover over them, and the thought made her smile as she waved a hand in farewell, "See you again, princeling. Send my regards to the professor."

Dimitri watched her leave, likely catching up quickly with Warin, and he found himself oddly at ease as he turned himself back in the direction on Raine's closed door. The tray in his hands was still warm, a good sign considering how much time he had spent dallying with the two mercenaries, and he wouldn't allow for any more delays. He took the stairs two at a time, clearing them with ease before he knocked twice, crisp and clear, to signal his arrival. Her answering call to enter was immediate, like she had been anticipating a visitor, and the thought made him chuckle as he turned the doorknob and carefully pushed the door open with his shoulder.

As he had expected, Raine was sitting up in her cot, though thoroughly surrounded and supported by donated pillows and books in order to keep her propped up and entertained. Her blankets and cloak were spread out over her, keeping her warm, and in lieu of her usual gear she had been forced to wear a thin nightshirt so not to put pressure on her still-healing ribcage. The wound on her cheek had long since healed, leaving behind the faintest of pale marks that could only be seen by squinting, and he had been told already that even that scar would fade soon enough. Though, it didn't matter as she smiled at his appearance, stunning him momentarily with the sheer amount of warmth and cheer she displayed at the sight of him, and her greeting was as sweet as the call of a siren when she spoke, "Dimitri! I've been waiting."

"I can tell." Dimitri offered a tender smile in answer, both bemused, and dizzyingly pleased to see her delight at the mere sight of him even though he had been in her quarters not several hours ago to deliver her breakfast. She was too capable of disarming him with nothing but a look, but he was growing used to it, and even worse, was beginning to enjoy it. He nudged the door closed with his boot before he entered her quarters, and he remarked as he brought the tray to her bedside table, "I've your lunch here."

"And yours, too, I take it?" Raine replied with a narrowed eye, and Dimitri's smile turned lopsided at her pointed remark. She had been forcing him to bring two meals ever since he had begun his self-imposed duties, and she would scold him fiercely if he didn't eat alongside her. No arguments would persuade her to let up, and he found it far easier to just oblige her wants and bring himself two of whatever he could fetch from the mess hall. It helped that eating with her gave them both more time to spend together before his duties would call him away, and they both were taking full advantage of every excuse they possibly could. She turned to the still-covered tray, raising an eyebrow with interest before questioning, "What were they serving today?"

"Porridge, with fresh fruit on the side. I believe it's flavoured with cinnamon and sugar today, instead of honey. I'm afraid I didn't have the time to ask the chefs. It's nothing too extravagant today, but I didn't imagine you'd be upset with a simpler meal considering things at the moment." Dimitri answered lightly, and he lifted the lid to show her that he had indeed brought two matching bowls, as well as two smaller plates of cut-up fruit. However, he covered the tray again as she showed no signs of interest in it, and instead came closer to her bedside, reaching to catch a stray lock of her hair to tuck behind her ear before asking gently, "How are you feeling? Did the healers come and go already?"

"They did. I feel a little... tight, for lack of a better word, still. It's difficult to take in deep breaths, but Mercedes' reassures me that in a few more days I won't feel any more discomfort. There's no more pain, at least, so I shouldn't really complain." Raine answered him obediently and briskly, and she was glad to see the way his expression softened even further at the admission that her healing was going well. His fingers lightly traced the shell of her ear in a lazy caress, sending a little shiver up her spine, and he blinked in surprise at the motion. Her smile turned awkward, sheepish, and she answered the question in his eye as he watched her all the more closely, "I'm actually... a little cold. It's hard to bundle up."

"We can't be having that, now can we...? Hold still a moment." Dimitri chuckled at her shy admission, and he was careful but quick as he removed half of the pillows she had been leaning on. She did as she was told, watching him with interest as he cleared the upper half of her bed, and he removed his boots before carefully lifting her up with his large, warm hands. In a trice he was with her in her bed, sitting her down carefully in his lap so she could use his back for a pillow, and he wrapped his arms lightly and carefully about her waist to encourage her to lean backwards. She laughed at his forwardness but accepted it all the same, snuggling happily into his hold, and he lowered his head, nuzzling her shoulder as he asked gently, "Better?"

"Much... Thank you." Raine murmured as she took in a deep breath of his scent and relaxed almost immediately into his strong, comforting hold. He had been treating her far more gently than she was used to, but a part of her was almost glad for his doting behaviour. She wasn't used to being spoiled, but he clearly was taking great pleasure in doing so, and every so often he took her by surprise with gestures such as this, but none of it felt forced or awkward. He simply was giving her comfort in any way he could, and a selfish part of her was greedy for more of it. She wanted him to coddle her, at least a little bit, and she rested her bandaged hand on the iron bands his arms made about her stomach with a little chuckle, "And how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." Dimitri surprised himself with the simple truth of his answer, and he nestled himself comfortably behind her as he felt the sincerity burning down deep into his chest. For once, the weight in his pocket did not cripple him, and for once, he felt completely and utterly at peace. There was more to come in the next few weeks, more that would be difficult and painful, but for the moment... He was calm and confident, resting with his lover and knowing that she, too, was happy in the moment. He offered her a little squeeze, careful of where his arms rested as he did so, and he pressed a kiss to her temple as he repeated himself quietly, gently, "I'm perfectly fine."

AN:

The "calm before the storm" as it were, as the next chapter is the one we've all been waiting for. After god knows how many chapters and how many months of writing, I am finally at the climax! I'm both excited, and a little afraid. XD I'm looking forward to this clash, as well as having a chance to write the Eisner siblings without their shackles, but Rhea is always an oddball in any equation, so it will be a difficult chapter to do... but I am semi-confident that I'll manage. However, as before, I want to remind everyone that I am not taking the DLC Cindered Shadows as canon, so do not expect to find any details there to be in the coming chapters. I didn't really enjoy the DLC, nor the way that the main narrative was handled, and so I am going full "corrective writing" with the past of the Eisner family. This is not a story about Byleth, as I've stated before. It's a story about a pair of siblings, who both have their own history and personality, and as such the story of their parents, and of Rhea's deeds, aren't about to be addressed as it was in Silver Snow, or Ardent Wind.

With that said, I hope that my changes aren't seen as bad, and make sense in terms of the narrative I have been building before. I'm hoping that a few fun foreshadowing bits I've left throughout this story, and the building stories beforehand finally all fall into place, and that I still have a few good surprises left up my sleeve! We shall see, of course, but I am excited to finally get to this point. It's interesting that while this "climax" is already well-known, and the spoilers are not really spoilers to us, that I'm acting as if there's bombshells I'm going to drop on my audience... Well, perhaps with the changes the narrative of Three Houses I have already written, maybe there WILL be some surprises for you! Who can tell at this point?!

Ahem. Anyway. Thanks as always for reading thus far, and for course for your continued support as I've written this from start to finish. From the people who favourited, to those who commented, bookmarked, or in any other manner showed interest, you guys have really kept me going. I'm hoping to keep up with your expectations, and I hope that I don't let you down in the future! Please drop me a review should you feel the need, and I shall see you again with my next chapter hopefully soon!

Mood: Playfully Amused.

Listening To: "Rain on Me" - Lady Gaga ft Ariana Grande

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