Hey, everyone. A none-lemony one-shot that I came up with after sitting on Marianne's latest alt in Heroes. I think it's safe to say no one was expecting Maurice to make an appearance, especially as the "guardian ghost" of his descendant, but it…kind of words in a sense. After some thought, I decided to write a little story focusing on the aftermath of Marianne's Paralogue and Dimitri (they're my OTP). Naturally, this story is set on the Azure Moon route. Now then, I hope you all enjoy!
I do not own anything.
A Farewell to Beasts
It was fitting that as the battle ended, the rain began to lighten up, almost as if the goddess herself were shining a light on the darkness that had plagued the land for centuries.
Marianne briefly looked up from the dissolved remains of her ancestor to the breaking light, her mouth slightly dropping in awe of the sun. She honestly thought that she wouldn't see it again, she hadn't come to this forest expecting to see the sun again. On the way here, she'd noticed how the sky had turned dark and gray; it was always like this around the forest. Many would have said that it was an ever-present warning to others to stay away from the forest. It was only one of many. Braving it had been the first part of her journey, weathering the unpleasant weather to get to her destination. She'd arrived, and she'd found what she'd been looking forward.
From head to toe, she was marred in cuts and scratches, her armor scratched and torn off in several places. Rather fitting considering she'd been in one hell of an intense fight for her life; this fight had been far more personal than any of the others she'd been in though.
The remains of her enemy, her ancestor, sat before her in the middle of a dissolved pule of dark scales and blackened stains, in the middle lay a skeleton, a human skeleton. They were the remains of Maurice, one of the legendary warriors who fought beside Nemesis himself a thousand years ago…and in her hands, lay his personal weapon, the Heroes Relic of his family line-Blutgang.
She'd always known it existed, her father had spoken of it in hushed whispers; it was clear he was reluctant to talk about it. Did he know where it lay? That it was guarded their malformed ancestor? If any came searching for it, they'd have to face Maurice himself, him…and his bloodlust. Marianne hadn't known any of that up until about thirty-minutes ago. She'd have been dead if it weren't for the surprise assistance of so many others; that was something else that she never expected to have. Marianne never expected to have friends who'd come running to her aid.
"Marianne," called a gentle voice that she'd come to find such great comfort in.
Looking to her left, she saw the leafy green eyes of Professor Byleth Eisner. He was no longer just a professor though; he was one of the co-leaders of the entire resistance movement against the Adrestian Empire. Once, he was thought lost, but luckily for them all, he'd returned to them to help push back the imperial war machine.
"Are you alright?" He asked. A simple question, one that she'd been asked countless times before. Marianne never could have believed that anyone would ask her such a question, showing concern for her. He wasn't the only one to show such feelings for her; that was one of the things that amazed her the most. There were people who cared about her, they cared enough that they were willing to follow her into this hellish forest, confronting Demonic Beasts that could rend a normal man limb from limb in a heartbeat.
That said, Marianne's companions weren't really "normal" by varying definitions, especially one companion.
"I-I'm fine, Professor Byleth." She declared, even though her eyes really weren't on him; he knew this and looked to who they were on. The Crown Prince of Faerghus stood some ways off from the rest of the group, as had become atypical of him. His gaze was not on Marianne, but on the forest in front of them, his lone eye seemingly scanning it for more enemies. Normally, he'd be right beside them, fervently tending to Marianne.
Then the blond prince turned his head and looked at her.
Marianne didn't tense up like most people did, not anymore. It was miniscule, the size of a speck of dust really, but she could see the recognition in Dimitri's lone left eye. Like everyone else though, she'd…adjusted to his new savage look. She could still remember the first time she saw him after five years, seeing the eyepatch covering his right eye and the malicious wrath burning in his remaining eye. It had grown since the last time she'd seen him years ago, a revelation that broke her heart. Still, she was happy to see that he was still alive, and she was happy that he'd came with them on this expedition. She was happy that though at times indirect ad dismissive, he still showed some concern for her.
Of all the beasts in this formerly nightmarish forests, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd had proved to be perhaps the most dangerous of them all. Even Maurice himself had praised the prince's savagery, quickly identifying him as a descendant of Blaiddyd himself. His words haunted Marianne for some reason, but she pushed them to the back of her mind, where they still remained.
With some accumulated courage, she smiled at Dimitri and mouthed a silent thank you to him. She wasn't expecting it to be acknowledged in any way, but Marianne did it anyway. The fierce prince held her gaze for a few more seconds, seconds that Marianne found to be quite precious, then he looked away with a huff.
Holding her ancestor's sword, Marianne rose to her full stature and looked around to the rest of her comrades. "Everyone, thank you so much for coming with me and helping me through this battle."
"Hey, what kind of friends would we be if we let you wonder into this big creepy forest by yourself?" Sylvain joked, bringing an air of humor to the mood. Several others laughed or rolled their eyes, silently appreciative of him being, well, him. "Things turned out pretty damn well to boot! We got some more combat practice in and now we've got one more Heroes' Relic to help bolster our forces!"
"Quite so." Ferdinand seconded. "And most importantly, Marianne…I believe you will be sleeping easier from ow on, correct?"
"Y-Yes, I will, and I'm sure that the people of the land will as well." She affirmed. "Everyone, thank you, and I believe we should be going now."
Though the threat had been officially and forever suppressed, it was clear that no one particularly liked the thought of remaining in the forest. For starters, even with the shining sun, it was still an incredibly unsettling place, the numerous amounts of corpses ad battle scars didn't help. The corpses of several giant wolves and other magically warped animals littered the forest, all of them having been under the command of the malformed Maurice; they all shared in his malformed nature. When Marianne had reached out to communicate with them, all she'd found was feral rage and insanity, there was no mind to reach, no mind or soul to pacify. Death was the only release they could be offered.
Their corpses would become a part of the forest, a "natural style" burial she'd heard some call. It was perhaps for the best. For the more grotesque Demonic Beasts, their corpses would be mined for materials. Marianne had never been particularly comfortable with the concept, but she recognized that it was the way of the world that they lived in, especially given they were in a time of war. Already, she could see some moving to harvest what they could from the corpses.
Marianne looked back at the skeleton in front of her. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Professor Byleth looking to it with a solum gaze. "He's your ancestor, so you can decide where he'll be buried." The divine swordsman stated with compassionate eyes, as was customary of him.
Looking back at the skeleton, Marianne felt a tug of war in her heart. First off, there was no way that she was just going to leave Maurice's skeleton lying here in the middle of the forest. It would be picked up by woodland scavengers, or worst, human scavengers. Whatever he might have done one-thousand years ago or how many he'd killed and eaten as a monster, Mariann refused to leave him there. "We'll…I would like…to take his bones back to the Monastery, give him a proper burial there. That is, if the Church will allow it."
Her gaze went past Byleth to Seteth, who'd also came along. She suspected that the green-haired man had his ow motives for coming along, motives that included knowledge of what was going on. As usual though, Seteth was rather tight-lipped on it; his focus had instead been on Marianne's well-being, which she deeply appreciated. His wyvern remained rooted to the spot as its rider walked over, seemingly having overheard their conversation, and probably saw the stray looks Marianne and Byleth were giving him.
"That decision rests with the Archbishop, whom is Byleth. His decision will be the Church's. Should he deem it so, then we shall find a spot to bury him." The spear-wielder looked to the pile of bones not with disdain, but sadness. That same sadness and pity was evident in the eyes of the two sword-wielders.
"Then find a cloth to wrap him up. We'll have to be gentle in bringing him back." Getting down to one knee, he reached and held his hand over the bones. "They're ancient, so ancient that if we're not careful, they could turn to dust before we even get back. Speaking of which, Marianne, can you write a letter to your adoptive father? Tell him of what has happened."
"I'm going to go see him myself, and tell him everything." Her grip her inherited sword tightened and a look of deep resolution burned in her eyes. For both men, it was quite a sight to see. They could both recall when she was shy and timid to a fault, shirking away at the slightest of gazes and belittling herself out of self-loathing. They were no signs of that girl now.
The woman that shy girl had become turned around and looked back to the tallest and most brutal member of their group, still standing as a silent sentential. Her eyes softened as she seemingly sent him a silent message, one that she hoped he would receive.
With barely any motion, Dimitri turned his head about to glance at her. It was a side glance that seemingly conveyed no emotion; it wasn't much, but it was definitely an acknowledgement of her presence. Though she wouldn't get a smile back, she smiled at him, sunlight shining upon her.
Dimitri stared at her heartfelt smile for a few more seconds, then he turned his back to her, his inner thoughts unreadable to all, including the goddess' avatar himself.
"You need to keep your concentration up when you're swinging it in its elongated form. The sword responds to your emotions, and some half-hearted desire to survive isn't going to cut it. Find it again, find it and hold onto it."
The sound of the voice was more impactful than the words that they'd spoken. Wide-eyed, Marianne looked to the side of the practice arena, unsurprisingly finding Dimitri standing in the shadow of the columns. She'd known he was there, he'd been there for perhaps the last half hour, silently watching her. He hadn't said a word except for grunt in what sounded like disapproval. That had left Marianne to self-examine and consider where she was going wrong. It was a harsh but effective way to teach.
Nodding, she closed her eyes and concentrated, picturing her life force flowing into Blutgang to awaken it. Her life energy intertwined with the still pulsating power within it. Marianne had gotten used to the intense feedback, which had at first overwhelmed her; it felt like she was drawing out the strength of not simply a weapon but another creature. She remembered how some of her schoolmates had remarked how at times their Relics had seemed…alive almost. As she'd discovered for herself, that might have potentially been try.
Marianne wondered how Dimitri handled his own weapon, Areadhbar. It was amongst the strongest Heroes Relics in Fódlan, it was definitely the strongest in Faerghus.
Red lightning coiled around the curved scimitar-like blade. The yellowish hue of the blade lit up and a bestial growl emanated from it. Filling the practice arena like a hungry wolf's growl, the air itself seemingly chilled. Blutgang's glow illuminated the small arena. It was an eerie sight, yet the one-eyed crown prince wasn't disturbed in the slightest. He'd seen far more unsettling sights, some of which he'd helped bring about with his own hands. His left eye watched the wickedly curved sword elongate, taking o a whip-like appearance similar to their former professor's sword. The difference was Blutgang seemed far more rigid and sinister looking; rather fitting, it vaguely resembled a beast's claw.
Such a sight would have surely struck terror into the hearts of imperial soldiers, and perhaps even Marianne's allies as well. The power of some Relics invoked awe, others terror, and a handful both. Actually, the latter was fairly common as what may have seemed like an awe-inspiring power on one side, those on the other side likely found it terrifying to behold.
The blue-haired woman held the transformed sword for a full minute before she began to swing it, slashing at invisible enemies. A visible layer of sweat had accumulated on her face from her earlier practicing, which Dimitri had been there to witness. His lone eye watched the swift moves of her blade; Dimitri could follow every slash Marianne made. She'd grow by leaps and bounds over what was six years, one year at the academy under Professor Byleth and five years of surviving the war. She'd become a warrior, albeit a reluctant one. But that wasn't enough. In this war, countless warriors had perished and their remains lay scattered across the land, if they had any remains left to speak of.
As she made dozens of practice swings, Marianne signified that she was going to be adding to that pile of bodies. There wasn't any chance if she wanted to live, or wanted the people she cared about to live either. That included Dimitri, albeit he would have scuffed at the notion if she verbalized it.
Blutgang's range could be extended, potentially up to ten feet. Just as easily as it sliced through air, it could and would slice through flesh and armor, including enchanted armor and barriers. Rather surprisingly, the weapon soaked up magic and used it to amplify its attacks. Professor Hanneman had told them that Maurice had some talent in magic; his weapon was fittingly a magic sword which was a perfect fit for Marianne. She had the magical prowess to use the blade, and perhaps the skill, but the true test would come when she stepped onto the battlefield, where she would once more be cutting down live enemies.
She moved as if she were doing just that, potentially picturing Imperial soldiers in her mind. It was something that she'd grown soberingly used to, just as she'd grown accustomed to cutting down real human beings. Marianne didn't relish the thought, but she accepted that she had to do so, she had to train herself to do so when the battle finally came, she wouldn't be a burden.
"Swing at me."
Her concentration broke immediately. "W-W-What?" Blutgang's energized form dissolved into red and black sparks while she whipped her head about to face the blond. He'd stepped right in front of her, tall and intimidating as he always appeared, eve without his fur camp. His black armor shined in the pale light of the moon. "D-D-Dimitri?"
"Strike at me with it." He repeated again. "Test its power in a more thorough way."
Marianne had already done that. She'd practice with the Professor, wielding his own Relic, she'd practiced with Ingrid, with Seteth, with Gilbert, and even with Felix. The training had been rigorous and fulfilling, so the prince wasn't exactly speaking the truth.
Looking into his lone blue eye, Marianne felt sadness grip her heart. It tended to whenever she stopped and observed just how broken the prince had become; sometimes it was enough to make her cry. Marianne kept the tears back this time, she instead assumed a fighting stance as Dimitri wanted. She watched his muscles tense beneath his armor and his fingers curl into fists. All around him, life energy, mana, pulsated, condensing around his hands.
She took a swig at him, a half-hearted swing that he easily deflected. She did so again, and again, and again. Each of her attacks was easily parried by his bare knuckles. The practice arena filled with the soft thudding of their low-level sparring.
It took less than ten minutes for Dimitri to get tired of it. "I told you to strike at me." He growled.
Marianne held her ground as she responded, "I am doing that, Dimitri."
"Strike at me with the intent to kill! Just as you did those monsters from the forest! Just as if I were an enemy!" He barked.
"You're neither." Her words were quiet, yet the resolution behind it held the strength of castle walls. Dimitri had the strength to shatter such walls, yet this time, he did not. The building irritation seemingly drained out of him as he let out a thick sigh of annoyance. With her left hand, she reached up to touch his cheek.
He of course recoiled from her touch as if it were poison. That response hurt more than any physical blow could have.
"Useless. If you can't muster the strength here, then-"
"I can fight, Dimitri. I have fought before." She pushed back, her brow knitting. While she was trying to be gentle with him, Marianne had to make it clear she wasn't going to be walked over. Dimitri seemed to recognize that. "I can and will fight any enemy that appears before me, rather they be human or monster. As I said though," her eyes softened. "You are neither."
"…Then perhaps you're more blind than I, in both eyes." He spat.
She remained undeterred. "Maybe, but perhaps I ca simply see more than you think I can. Where you see only a beast, I still see the man that I…" Marianne stopped herself, her heart skipping a beat in fear. For the first time since this late night sparring session, she felt fear; thought it was tied to Dimitri, it wasn't for fear of what he might do to her. As illogical as one might have found it, Marianne fully believed that Dimitri would never hurt her.
The only way he could hurt her was possibly by rejecting her feelings for him. Common sense had stepped in to tell her that revealing those feelings as she was about to do would have been a colossally bad idea. They were at war, there were rumors of a massive Imperial Army march, the Alliance Army under Claude was on the move, they were only recently getting half of their fighting strength organized, and most importantly…Dimitri wasn't in the right frame of mind for a love confession. He would scoff at it, laugh it off at best and tear it apart at worst.
Even if he did that, Marianne felt in her heart that she'd still love him. That love was what made his current state all the more painful to see and endure. Was there anything she could do to help the man in front of her? The man who'd helped show her that her life not only had value, but had even made her believe he could become a part of her reasoning for living.
Now, he believed his life had no meaning other than to spill blood and sate the howls of vengeance for the dead.
"..like me." His voice sounded.
"W-What?" She stammered, realizing that she'd gotten lost in her thoughts.
It might have been her imagination, but she could see a sliver of amusement on his face. "Never mind. Just more meaningless ramblings in the middle of the night."
"Oh, I rather liked our little talks late at night." Marianne offered with a miniscule smile. "I'm happy to have them with you again, Dimitri."
He seemed about to speak, but shut his joy at the last second, a decision that Marianne was disappointed, but not surprised by. At the very least she felt like she was making tiny inroads into getting him to open up.
"Late night conversations with a beast…" he mused.
"And late-night conversations with a cursed girl." She politely echoed. "Together, they found a little light to cling onto."
"That light is gone now, Marianne." He defiantly spat, and air of sadness to his tone.
"I don't think so, Dimitri." She pushed back. Again, she reached for his cheek; thankfully, this time he didn't recoil from her touch. His skin was warm, just as she assumed it would be. "You think all the light is gone, but I think that there's still some there."
"…Then you and I are seeing two different words." He remarked in a somewhat sullen tone.
Swallowing a lump of anxiety in her throat, she moved her hand across his face, to his left hand. Marianne made sure not to press down on it too much. "Or perhaps…you just…need to open up yours, see the world around you again."
The lance-wielder gave a hollow laugh, more mocking than humorous. "This world, Marianne…it has no place for a beast like me in it. My only role in it is to remove those who are as underserving of life as I am."
"And that's where I disagree, and I will adamantly argue in defense of that choice. Even against you." The brown-eyed woman continued.
Dimitri looked down upon her with his eye, curiosity and amusement flickering within his sole-surviving eye. He looked ready to make her commit to that statement, but something changed within him. His shoulders fully slackened and his blue eye broke from hers. "Sounds like you have grown up a little since last time."
"I've had to, if I didn't, I wouldn't have been able to survive…and I wouldn't be able to protect the people that I love." She explained while gently pushing his face back so they were eye-to-eye.
Marianne saw pain in his eye, and that in turn caused pain in her own eyes. She wished that there was a healing spell she could use to make it go away, but no magic could heal a wounded heart and a shattered mind.
"Only love can do that."
She'd heard that quote once in a book on philosophy. Suddenly grabbing at the memory, Marianne wanted to believe it. From the depths of her heart, she wanted to believe the love she and the others had for Dimitri would be enough to pull him out of the darkness that he'd fallen into. Ever since they'd all reconveyed at the Monastery, everyone had been trying in their personal ways, big and small, even Felix.
"…Why would you still care about a beast like me? I am not kin like Maurice was."
"Someone doesn't have to be family for you to care about them." Marianne retorted with a twinkle in her eyes. "Do you remember what I said to you when you asked me what I liked about the Blue Lions-the comradery you all had. Out of all of the three houses, you all were the closest to each other, like a pride of lions." She smiled at the memory, remembering the conversation held over tea and snacks. "At the head of that pride…was you, and you said regardless of who they were or where they were from, you'd protect any ally of yours, that you'd be there for them. That included me, the depressive transfer." Blutgang was implanted into the ground so she could caress his face on both sides. "That inspired me, Dimitri."
"The idealistic ramblings of a foolish boy." He tried to argue. She could see that he was recalling those memories himself, and the joy they brought was fighting against the deep-seated darkness that had consumed him.
"Even if they were, they inspired me, they gave me hope." She continued. "What you gave me kept me going for so long, it's still keeping me going now. I learned many things in the Blue Lions, amongst the most important is that you never give up on the people you care about."
"…You've always been a strange woman, Marianne." Was all he said in response to her declaration. It wasn't a fiery or cold rebuke, which she took with joy. "You waste your kindness on a bloody beast like me."
"If so, then it's my choice." She affirmed.
Dimitri didn't move. He held the shorter woman's gaze like she'd enchanted him, Marianne might as well have enchanted him with her words. The late-night wind blew around them. They were likely the only souls out besides the nightly patrol.
"Your choice…is a foolish one. Pray that you don't suffer for it." The blond finally remarked, bitterness evident in his voice. He broke away from Marianne's gentle embrace, turning his back to her and walking away.
Marianne watched him go in silence, saddened that their talk had ended, but happy that they'd had it in the first place. Some days, it took a monumental effort to get Dimitri to speak anything more than one sentence, or even speak words instead of grunts. By all accounts, she'd worked a small miracle over the last five minutes.
"If I were to pray for you, would you stop me?" She surprised herself with calling out to him as he seemed about to disappear into the shadows. Perhaps that's what it had been-this feeling that if he disappeared into the darkness, she'd never see him again. Marianne couldn't bear for that to happen.
Her words stopped the black-armored man dead in his tracks. "…You're free to pray to whoever you want, Marianne. It is your choice if you choose to waste your prayers on beasts who are beyond salvation."
Impulsively, she was about to bring up her now deceased and buried ancestor, who believed his horrific existence would never end. Though it did, death had been his salvation, and that wasn't quite the comparison that Marianne was going for. Dimitri had a death wish and his death was something that they were all doing their best to stave off, while staying alive themselves. It hadn't been easy, that was for sure, but they still tried; Marianne still planned on trying and she would keep on trying.
Within the next second, she tried again. "Sometimes salvation can come from unlikely places…and to the most unlikely of people. That's what I believe, at least."
For another moment, the blond prince was still, then he entered the shadows, his footsteps echoing throughout the small arena. It was the only proof of his continued presence and it was fading. Within a minute, it was gone leaving Marianne alone with her sword and her thoughts.
Goddess, she began lowering her head and closing her eyes. Please…give me the strength to reach him. Give me the strength to bring him salvation. If I can only reach one person in this life, please, let it be Dimitri.
"Marianne?"
"Hm?" Turning her head, she smiled at the towering figure of the King of Faerghus. "Sure, come sit right beside me."
Dimitri returned her smile, his making her cheeks flush pink. They blushed even brighter as he took a seat beside her. Suddenly, rather than the evening sun, Marianne felt like she was standing beneath a bright burning desert sun, its heat was affecting her and her alone.
"I…suppose you came here for some time to clear your head." He broached.
She nodded. "Yes, I need some place to go to help…take everything in. The truth of Heroes Relics, of the Ten Elites, Nemesis…everything, it's all so much to take in."
"I can understand, truth be told, I am just wrapping my head around it myself. Everything that has happened in Fódlan over the last centuries…so much of it, all carried out at the hands of that shadowy cult. The remnants of a civilization that came long before any of us." He agreed looking out to the water. Before the two of them lay calm waters, an appropriate personification of the still unease tranquility that had descended over Derdriu in the aftermath of the battle.
"Dimitri," the blue-haired woman began, keeping her gaze on the water before them. "These people…these…Agarthans…"
Their eyes met as they looked to one another, the glow of the sunset painting the ocean water a shing golden hue. It was a beautiful sight, the likes of which Derdriu were quite famous for. At the very least it could be said that some parts of the city had survived thus would be able to grant such impressive views. At the moment though, very few were taking in the sights of the Alliance capital, or rather, the former Alliance capital. As of going on three days ago, the Leicester Alliance no longer existed, it was now a part of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, as it had been little over two-hundred years ago.
Given the topic that the two Crest-bearers were discussing, two-hundred years ago seemed as small as two days ago.
"I won't deny that I…loath them, I hate them. I hate them for all the damage that they have wrought upon Fódlan for hundreds of years." The ascended prince admitted, a dark, almost ashamed, look in his eye. Acting on emotional impulse, Marianne reached forward and caressed his cheek. He'd long since stopped spurning her touch, even if at times he felt unworthy of it. "Almost every tragedy throughout the land's history…all for the sake of their vengeance, yet…some part of me can…understand that rage."
"Everyone can, even if no one agrees with their methods, or what they've done with that wrath." Her brown eyes hardening, she spoke her next words with absolute certainty that she made clear wouldn't be questioned. "You are nothing like them, Dimitri. You are nothing like that…that…that monster masquerading as Volkhard."
Anyone that knew Marianne knew that it took a lot to earn her ire. It was often said that she had the compassion of a saint, and Flayn herself had attested to that. Then again, even she admitted that she felt nothing but loathing for the ancient civilization that had wiped out her people, including her own mother.
Everyone had listened closely when the youngest of the surviving Nabateans, kind and innocent Flayn whom wouldn't hurt a fly if she could help it, Saint Cethleann herself, spoke of the ancient race with sheer hatred in her voice. It didn't take long for that hatred to spread out to everyone else, some it took root in more deeply than in others.
Dimitri had tried hard not to let that hatred take root too deeply within him, but he couldn't lie in front of the woman whom he…cared so deeply for. "I would have appreciated it if…if all of this ended with his death, Thales' death. But I know that it won't."
The weight of sorrow fell upon the blue-haired woman. "You…don't think revealing any of this will dissuade Edelgard? Not even the fact that this war of hers is being fought on partially false pretense?"
"She believes her cause to be just, though I'm not adverse to trying to reason with her." His lone eye closed, a likely preview of the heartbreak that he would feel if they met and he attempted to parlay with her. "If what we've been told is accurate, then I believe that she's far too set in what she's been told by the Agarthans…not to mention…she cannot stop now. Not after all of this." Dimitri gently broke away from her touch to look back at the rest of the city. There were no columns of smoke rising, only the faint sound of continued construction, and even that would start to end in about an hour or so.
Marianne had toured some parts of the city, and she could say that some of the destruction wouldn't be repaired for months at best. They wouldn't be in the Derdriu while that was going on. It had been decided just this morning that they would be taking their amassed forces straight to the Imperial capital to defeat Edelgard and end the war. A straight forward and direct plan, one whose success rate grew more confident by the hour.
"Edelgard," Marianne began. "She was never the type to give up on any chosen venture, was she?"
"No, it simply isn't in her nature, especially when she's invested so much into it, as she has this war. Even worse, so too has the rest of Adrestia." After he'd came out of his madness, Dimitri had stopped and given some long thought to the war and its dynamics, as well as its buildup. There was no she could have driven this entire war alone, regardless of how much she preached of her supposed ideals. Those ideals had become a smokescreen to several other motives, some no doubt less than noble like hers. "I hate it, but I must accept it."
"We all have to, though I…don't quite think some hate it." He looked to her with sympathy. It was hard not to walk through Kingdom or Alliance territory and not hear some disdain for the Adrestian Empire mentioned. Given the pain that it'd inflicted on the denizens of the rest of the continent, it was inevitable. Currently, talk was of what would be done to the Empire when its territory was finally breached. "When we get to Adrestia, I…shudder to think of what could happen."
"I'm going to do my best." Dimitri declared not a full second after she'd finished speaking. "I know I…will not be successful on all fronts, but I at least have to try."
"That's what makes you different, Dimitri. That's what makes you so much better than the Agarthans. It's what makes you better than you think you are." The sorcerous young woman affirmed, her words bringing his attention back onto her. "Regardless of what any one will say or think, you're…you're…" Her heart beat quickened ad her cheeks felt like they were on fire. It made speaking incredibly difficult. Come on, come on! Just…just spit it out! You can do this! H-He's Dimitri! H-He's our Dimitri again!
"I…merely hope to be enough, Marianne." He'd taken her silence as time to formulate his own interpretation. Marianne was both grateful and slightly irritated. A tiny voice in her head mused how he was already living up to his title of savior. "I have been many things, some of them unwanted, but I bear the titles murderer, monster, beast-"
"Those are things you were Dimitri, and even then, they were just a part of you, they were not all that you were, and or are."
"Marianne…" He murmured.
The fire within her continued to burn. Attempting to control it, she let it flow throughout her body, guiding her actions. She indeed used it as fuel, Marianne remained in conscious control of her actions. Her left hand rose and fell atop of Dimitri's right. She gave it a brief squeeze; to her immense relief, he returned it with a gentle squeeze of his own. Letting out a long-held breath, she began to lean against him.
"Like Seteth said, our…our ancestors may not have been the heroes we thought to them be…but we've done our best. We've…you have earned the right to be called just and a noble, a hero even."
"I feel those words are better directed toward you, Marianne." He lightly chuckled. She joined him, their mutual laughter filling up the harbor along with the soft thud of the ocean waves. Their hands stayed interlocked, something that both of them remained fully aware of, but neither spoke a word about. The moment was theirs to enjoy for as long as they could.
Slowly, the sun started to dip lower into the horizon, three-quarters of it vanishing with the last quarter well on its way to. The orange sky had gradually turned darker, taking with it the golden hue with it. By the dozes, stars were starting to manifest in the sky; Dimitri and Marianne occasionally looked up to them, spotting more each time that they did. They looked up with small smiles, silently counting as many as they could.
"…Marianne," The blond broached. "Now that we know the truth…would you…"
"Would I still pray for Maurice?" she finished for him. "Yes, I would." The answer flowed so easily out of her; five years ago, such a response would have been highly unlikely. It was another mark of how far she'd come. "Even if…he wasn't the hero everyone thought he was, even if none of our ancestors were…I still believe that at least he deserves a peaceful rest in the afterlife."
"Well, I believe that Seteth and Flayn agree with you, they did come with you to the Forest of Beasts, no doubt knowing what lay within. Not to mention he didn't really object to burying him on Monastery grounds." He privately wondered if a factor had been that apparently, Maurice wasn't a part of Nemesis' 'genocide party', those that had gone with Nemesis to Zanado and directly participated in the slaughter of the goddess' children. It was a valid thought, but one that he kept to himself. "The truth does answer several questions that some have had over the years about Heroes Relics."
"Like their unsettling appearance, and the sense of anger and dread that they carry with them?" He laughed at his completely on-point analysis. Had it been Hilda, she likely would have used a tad cruder description. "Still, in spite of how they were made and the resentment that they carry…I…I want to believe it's possible to sooth their rage."
"If anyone can do that, I believe it's you, Marianne. In fact, I'd wager that you've already made some success."
Her blush returned, and it deepened upon seeing the king smile in amusement. "Um, at least it can be said I don't look too…odd for seemingly talking to my sword."
"As someone well-versed in Faerghus tradition, I can tell you that's not too odd. I think I told you years back that given our warrior culture, saying a prayer of respect and such to one's weapon isn't too out of the ordinary. In the case of us Crest bearers, well, I feel like we all should likely pray to our chosen weapons. I certainly feel that way regarding Areadhbar." Dimitri mused. He glanced at their still interlocked hands, the scared patches of his hand heavily contrasting the smooth surface of hers. "Marianne, I…I don't mean to impose on you, but…"
"Do you…want me to be there when you…speak to Areadhbar?" When Seteth revealed that even when dismembered and…their remains harvested, Nabateans could still persist, their life force was simply too resilient to be fully snuffed out, at least by mundane means. "Do you sometimes feel as if…he's speaking to you."
"Sometimes I do, other times I merely write it off as a product of my broken mind. I know he feels the same hatred for the Agarthans that I do, though I imagine that he might hate me and my family just as much."
"Maybe, or maybe not. You two have similar goals, and perhaps after this war…you'll think about retiring Areadhbar. I would…like to do the same for Blutgang, though not seal him away in some shrine or temple. He'll get lonely."
He smiled at the remark. "When you point it that way, you make me think the same of Areadhbar. By tradition, it'll be passed onto my heir…though I'd prefer it if they never had to use it in battle."
"So then…how would you feel about…teaching your heir to talk to Areadhbar?" She offered. "You said it's a Faerghus tradition so…who'd be there to mock it."
Laughing, he cocked his head back in seeming thought of the idea. "Now that would be an interesting bonding activity. Those would be better ways for them to be around the spear. Of course, all of this is…somewhat far off."
"Y-Yes, I-I-I know. I was just…throwing it out there." She stammered. "F-Forget-"
"I won't forget it, Marianne." He squeezed her hand as he spoke the words, their gazes meeting. Marianne's heart furiously beat in her chest as she stared into his blue eyes. "Your words…you have far more wisdom in you than I could ever hope to accumulate, I take every word that you speak to me to heart. At least…I try to nowadays."
"You always take my words to heart, Dimitri, something that I'm so…happy about. I want to help you anyway that I can." She pressed. "I…I…"
"You never gave up on me."
"None of us did, not completely." She gave his hand another squeeze. "We're through it now, Dimitri. Sure, there's still the rest of the war-the last part of it-but I…I believe that the worst is behind us."
"The what do you believe lies ahead of us?" He innocently questioned.
Dimitri followed her gaze to the horizon, now seemingly dark since the sun had mostly set. There wasn't much light to be had, but Marianne could see some form of luminous. Dimitri tried hard to see it as well.
"A future…where we're not bound by our blood or our nationalities, a future where…hopefully, we don't have to fight and kill and die for our ideals. A future where a tragedy like Zanado and the Tragedy of Duscur don't happen." She confessed. "I want to believe that a future like that lies beyond the horizon."
"I do too…but…for it to be, I know that I will have much work to do. I fear that it may be too much for me, but I'm going to try. I have to try." The last portion of his statement came out with a hardness that struck at her heart strings. Marianne had seen that determined look in his eyes and heard that deep echo in his voice, they were the aspects of a leader.
With vague awareness of what she was doing, she leaned against his shoulder. Given the rather telling height difference between them, it was almost comical. What happened next wasn't.
Marianne's cheeks exploded in crimson as she felt an arm wrap around her shoulder. For as shocked as she was, Marianne quickly melted into the embrace, she relished it from the depths of her heart. She felt like she could spend the rest of the night in this warm embrace, just her and him.
Him and I…one day…could we maybe be… The future had always been a foreboding subject for her; she didn't have a future, at least not one to be happy about. "Don't feel like you have to do it all on your own. You're not alone, Dimitri. You…you have so many people that you can rely on, including…including me." Sucking in a breath of air, salty sea air, she reached up and placed her hand against his chest.
"I have relied on you, Marianne, and put you through far more than you-" he started.
"That doesn't matter! I'll go through hell for you if it means saving you! Being close to you!" She passionately declared. His mouth dropped as her words hit him, the force of them reached his very soul. "I…I…Dimitri, regardless of whatever you think or call yourself…I'll always be there to support you. That's the choice that I've made for myself."
"Marianne," he whispered in genuine awe at the look in her eyes. "You've…always been so supportive of me, even in my darkest of times when I wasn't worthy of it."
"That's when you needed it the most. It's easy to abandon someone when they've given up on themselves. To stand beside that someone at that point…it takes conviction…and a truly kind heart." His blue eye widened as her words jogged memories of old. Though their school days were indeed so much brighter compared to the present, that didn't mean they were all free of darkness. The two of them could attest to that, but they could also attest to the strength that school year had fostered within them. That strength was put to use as Marianne raised her left hand up to cradle his face. "You've always been a man in my eyes, Dimitri. A man with his share of demons…just like I was always a woman in your eyes, one carrying her own, yet you chose to reach out and help me."
Truthful, there were some days that Dimitri couldn't bring himself to get out of bed, yet he feared to close his eyes. If he did, all he would see were nightmares, then again, sometimes when he kept his eyes awake, he saw ghosts calling to him. In spite of that, he eventually found himself rising up, putting on his uniform when needed and heading out.
And whenever he saw Marianne though, he felt…something. No matter the darkness gripping him, whenever he saw it doing the same to her, a part of him felt inclined to move to loosen its grip on her. He'd put her before himself, and he'd never feel any regret in doing so; in helping her, he felt like he was maybe helping himself as well.
Even when he was lost in the throes of his madness, her presence lingered in his mind. He felt something when he saw her turn up amongst the rest of their classmates. Dimitri recognized now that he was happy to see that she was still alive. Her presence along with Professor Byleth's were amongst the few that stuck out to him, like a pair of lights flickering in the darkness. Whenever he saw that light about to be extinguished, his body moved on its own, primal rage and fear driving him to act.
Several months ago, when that Crest scholar came by and his intrusion goaded Marianne into going after Maurice, he'd followed. He'd seen the man buzzing about the Monastery and had debated rather or not to deal with him himself. Whenever he saw him, he, of course, froze in complete terror. When Marianne rode off into the Forest of Beasts, Dimitri followed her, like a dark shadow. Upon reaching the forest and engaging her ancestor and the bloodthirsty beasts that he kept as company, he struck like lightning, his battle cries booming through the forest like thunder. Throughout the entire battle, he'd kept an eye on her; not exactly easy given he only had one eye and his bloodlust was raging.
He didn't want to lose her, he couldn't lose her. That was the case then, and it was most certainly the case now.
She let out a small eep! as he moved his arms around her, taking her into a tight embrace. Within seconds though, she closed her eyes and melted into his embrace.
"You…you're probably the most incredible woman that I've ever met, Marianne." He whispered.
"D-D-Dimitri," she whispered, feeling a fire lit in her cheeks. "I-I-I-I…I…I…I think the same of you. B-B-Being t-t-t-the most incredible man t-t-that I've ever met." She added, clearly in a fluster of emotions. One look at her face and it was clear that Marianne was enjoying this a lot. This was a secret, long-held dream coming true. Parts of it had taken form as far back as the ball, when, for the first time in her life, she danced with someone. Truth be told, Marianne had wanted to dance with him again, and she'd gotten the chance to after the Liberation of Faerghus and Dimitri's coronation.
Her feelings for him had only grown stronger during the war and afterward when he returned to his senses. At some point, they were going to-
"Marianne,"
Slowly, he pulled her away, though he kept her in his arms. Their eyes lingered on one another, the slipped to t heir respective lips. Looking back at each other, they both came to a mutual decision.
She'd never been kissed before, and neither had he. Interestingly, both had been viewed romantically by admirers, but each had their own reasons to spurn romantic affection, namely because both of them felt like they hadn't found the right person. As they kissed, Dimitri and Marianne believed that maybe, in the midst of all that had happened to them and had happened around them, they'd found that right person.
Perhaps that was why when they broke for air, they did nothing but stare into each other's eyes, the press their lips together again. Their second kiss managed to become even more passionate than the previous one as the king pushed the blue-haired maiden against him. She welcomed the embrace. They remained in it even after they broke their second kiss, panting and their lips swollen.
Bright stars glistened above the two of them, amongst the small lanterns glistened a full moon. It had arisen rather quickly.
"I guess that…this is a good a way as any to show you that I…I'm…I'm committed." A mental reprimand was immediate as she realized how her words sounded. Not that Marianne was willing to take them back. Even if she hadn't meant to, she'd spoken the truth, what reason was there to take it back? "Dimitri, come what may, I'll always support you, I want to keep on supporting you."
"I would very much like that, Marianne." He responded. "It's just…" He saw the way she tensed up, anxiety rising within her at what else he might have to say. Every fiber of his body screamed for him to squash that unease, and he did. "If you do that…I don't think I'll ever be able to let you go."
Her eyes shimmered with affection and her lips curved into a sweet smile. "I wouldn't mind that, Dimitri. Matter of fact, I'd be incredibly happy if you never let me go, because…I feel that way about you."
Sharing a hearty laugh, their lips met for the third, though far from the final time. It was the final seal of a relationship that they both had been silently craving, yet unsure if they were worthy of. Whatever unease that still existed in their hearts was gone, only sweet relief and absolute certainty remained.
Indeed, the end of the war had not yet come, but they both knew that it was in sight, just as the moon and the stars were. They'd been out that night in the practice arena when they'd had their quiet yet passionate talk of beasts, prayers, and salvation. Dimitri had walked away from it cynical as he'd been before, but impressed with the shadowy-eyed girl who'd transferred into his House. A week and a half later and they were at that arena again, in broad daylight, his will to live restored. Now, here they were; he was proud to say that every word Marianne had spoken had been true.
He was a broken man, one who'd let his sorrow and wrath warp him into a monster, yet somehow, he'd clawed his way back from the edge of that savage despair.
She had been a broken girl, and through unexpected kindness, had grown into a strong and capable woman. Dimitri was sure that many would argue that she was far more than he deserved, but now that he had her in his arms, he wasn't going to let go of her.
And Marianne, just as she said, wouldn't have it any other way. If he ever tittered back on that edge, she'd be there to grab him back, not with strong jaws and claws, but gentle hands and a soothing voice.
Fin.
Satisfied that Dimitri/Marianne itch that I've had for the last couple of months with Heroes giving me the kick in the butt I needed. A little bit of headcanon of mine went into this story, namely that between Fhirdiad and Derdriu, there's no reason for Seteth and Flayn not to tell everyone even a bit of the truth, if only at least so they know who they're really going up against. In that reveal, I decided to throw the truth of the Heroes Relics in and give a little look into how some of the characters might react. Given that Marianne's practically an animal empath, I like to think that she would be able to commune and sooth whatever will is left in Blutgang; I also think she would be the type to still pray for the forgiveness of the Elites, even after all they'd done. At least it can be said that some of them didn't know what Nemesis had really done to get them their Crests and weapons.
This was actually my first-time writing Dimitri in his Boar Phase. Since there wasn't much fighting involved, I focused on what a conversation with him would be like, in other words a depressing and bitter talk with a man who's essentially given up on himself and arguably the rest of the world. When writing them, I tried to show Marianne showing some backbone, but at the same time still being a tad gentle with him.
That concludes this itch, for now. I hope you all enjoyed this little story. Until next time.