Here's the next chapter! I swear, somehow these stories just keep getting longer, and I don't really know how it happens…
Anyway, not sure where I'll go next, but I'm sure I'll keep writing something!
Ignatz was falling.
He felt his feet slide backwards over the loose gravel as the enemy's horse crowded up against him, and then there was nothing beneath him. He was falling.
That moment of suspended nothing seemed to stretch on indefinitely, but in reality it was less than a second later when he made sharp impact with an unforgiving surface.
And then there was pain.
His knees buckled beneath him as pain like he had never felt before shot up through his leg, and he collapsed against the cracked cobblestones that had stopped his descent. He lay motionless, gasping for the breath that had left him in the fall. His body hurt, and he could hardly breathe.
After a few strained breaths, his awareness snapped back to his surroundings. The ground he lay on was an ancient cobbled road, sunken a full story lower than its neighboring areas and perhaps even more dilapidated than the rest of the crumbling city. Piles of dust and debris that had gathered over years of neglect clumped along the walls of the narrow alley, decorated with tangled masses of flowering weeds. Absently, he thought that under happier circumstances, the ruined street would make a lovely scene for a painting, but he did not allow that thought to linger long. They were in the middle of a battle, after all.
Above, he heard the sounds of continued fighting, but it seemed to be growing distant. Byleth's battle plan suddenly paraded clearly back through his mind: they were to engage the enemy in the open square before drawing them back into the market streets, where the rest of their troops were waiting. It was a good plan, and would certainly help to give their outnumbered army a much-needed advantage, but in that moment all it meant to Ignatz was that he was about to be left behind.
Without thinking, he rolled to the side and tried to push himself to his feet, but his right leg immediately collapsed beneath him, exploding in a burst of unbearable pain. He could not help crying out as he fell to the ground again. His eyes watered, and he gritted his teeth, pressing his fists into the cold stone. He had to move. His friends were up there fighting; he could not stay here.
However, his proceeding attempts to stand made it all too clear that staying there was the only option available to him. Even small movements sent jolts of searing pain coursing though his leg, and there was no hope of being able to put any weight on the injured limb. It was a deep, stabbing pain, like there were blades imbedded in his bones that cut into him every time he moved.
Collapsing with his back against the alley wall, Ignatz finally gave up. He simply could not move.
He leaned his head back against the wall and stared at the sky, listening to the distant sounds of fighting. All he could do now was wait. Surely someone would notice him missing once the fighting was over, and come looking for him. That is, if they won…
He shook his head, clearing the thought from his mind. Of course they would win; they had to. He could not allow himself to consider any other possibility.
A deep ache had settled into his leg, throbbing to the rhythm of his heartbeat. He tried to reposition it, but sucked in a sharp breath and dug his fingers into the ground as the attempt at movement sent spikes of agony through his bone.
Taking a long, deep inhale, he tried to regulate his breathing and settle himself in spite of his intense discomfort. His mind was beginning to feel hazy from the pain, which seemed to be getting worse even while he kept it still.
His perception of time completely off kilter, there was no way of knowing how long he sat there, simply trying to keep himself from panicking or melting down under the strain of his throbbing leg and the feeling of isolation as he sat there, alone in the alley.
Eventually, though, he was pulled from his nearly trancelike state by a sound. Someone was calling his name. As he perked up and listened, he realized it was not just someone: several familiar voices repeatedly called him from various distances, and at least a few seemed to be getting closer.
Relief flooded through him, and he opened his mouth to respond, "I'm-"
His voice cracked, sending him into a brief coughing fit that ended in a pained groan as the jerking movement agitated his leg, but he managed to collect himself and call again, "I'm down here!"
Footsteps dashed across the square above him, and then Sylvain was crouching by the edge of the sunken alley.
"Ignatz! Are you alright?"
"I-I can't move… my leg…" Ignatz felt like he might cry as relief flooded through him. He had been found.
"Alright, hang on; I'm coming down," Sylvain turned and called over his shoulder, "Hey! Tell Dimitri I found him!" He then carefully maneuvered himself over the edge of the crumbling wall, dropping the last few feet much more gracefully than Ignatz had earlier. As he approached the younger man, his eyes fell on Ignatz's injured leg.
"Oh, wow… I don't think that's supposed to be bent that way," kneeling beside him, he put a hand against the boy's chest as he tried to sit forward, "Don't try to move; you'll just hurt yourself. I'm going to carry you, okay?"
Ignatz nodded as Sylvain slipped an arm behind his back. It was not as though he had much choice: he certainly could not walk, and Sylvain did not seem to be waiting for an answer, anyway. Carefully, he slid his other arm under Ignatz's legs and lifted him, wincing when the boy gasped and clutched onto him, clearly in pain.
"Sorry, I didn't know any way to do that more gently. Are you alright in this position?"
"Yeah…" after the initial pain of movement, Ignatz found that having his leg hanging actually relieved a bit of the ache, "I… thank you."
"No problem. How'd this happen, anyway?"
"I fell… during the battle…"
Sylvain frowned, "But… you're an archer. Weren't you supposed to be in the market? What were you doing over here?"
"That is an excellent question."
Sylvain turned to the new voice, "Ah, your Highness. I found him!"
Ignatz felt his face flush as he was held up like some kind of prize for the king's scrutiny.
"Ignatz, are you alright?" Concern touched Dimitri's features as he approached the pair, "What happened?"
"I'm- I just fell and-and hurt my leg…"Ignatz stammered. Dimitri's appearance had an unsettling effect on him, reminding him that he was only in this situation because he had not followed the battle plan, and that was certainly not going to go over well.
Dimitri nodded, casting a glance at the limb in question, "Why don't you answer Sylvain's question, then: What were you doing down here, when you were meant to be in the market with the other archers?"
Ignatz suddenly felt very uncomfortable with his position. He wished he could stand on his own two feet to face the reprimand he was sure to receive, but since that was impossible at the moment, he simply took a fortifying breath before answering in as steady a voice as he could muster.
"Well, it didn't seem like the battle down here was going according to plan, and I-I felt helpless up there. I thought I would be more help down here…" he trailed off, considering the irony of that statement when he had spent most of the battle incapacitated and not helping at all.
Dimitri simply looked at him a moment, his expression unreadable. He then turned and beckoned to Sylvain, "Come, we should get him to the healers. They have their hands full back at camp, so I doubt anyone will be coming out here."
Nodding, Sylvain followed him out of the alleyway, his gait unhindered by the weight of the slender young man he still carried in his arms. For Ignatz, the journey back to camp was uncomfortable on a number of levels. Although Sylvain carried him as gently as he could, there was no avoiding some shifting and jostling along the way, all of which aggravated the pain in his leg. Additionally, he had seen the dark look that flashed briefly across Dimitri's face when he explained what had happened, and he could not shake the chill that look left with him, even while the older man went on to take care of his wellbeing. He could practically feel the anger simmering just under the surface of Dimitri's calm demeanor.
When they finally made it back to camp, Dimitri directed them to a large, open-sided tent near the center lined with rows of cots and benches. Inside, the healers bustled around caring for those who had been injured in the day's battle.
Dimitri scanned the tent's interior for a moment before calling out, "Mercedes! Come here a moment, please."
Mercedes looked up from the basket of bandages she was preparing, "Oh, Dimitri! Hold on, I'll be right there."
She handed the basket to another healer along with instructions on what to do with them, then made her way over to the three of them.
"What can I do for you, your Highness?" Her eyes rested on Ignatz, "Oh my! What happened, Ignatz?"
"I fell, and when I landed… my leg… I can hardly move it."
"Come over here," she beckoned to Sylvain, directing him to lay his charge on a cot that had just been vacated. With gentle fingers, she cut away the leg of his trousers to reveal the injured limb beneath.
"Oh my, that looks like a nasty break."
Sylvain whistled low, and Dimitri's frown deepened. Ignatz's shin had a slight, unnatural bend to it, and significant bruising was beginning to appear. Unable to see his own leg clearly from his position, Ignatz looked to the other's reactions and felt his heart drop. Was it really that bad?
"You-You can fix it though, right?" He questioned nervously.
Mercedes was already busying herself grinding herbs at the bedside table, "Of course I can. However, it's going to be a little bit painful."
"Oh… okay…"
Sylvain shot her a puzzled look, "I've never heard of healing magic being painful?"
"Not the magic," she continued blending various ingredients in her mortar as she spoke, "Healing magic works by speeding up the body's natural healing process. It's very effective, but it has limitations. For example," she turned and pointed to Ignatz's leg with her pestle, "The broken ends of your bone are almost completely disconnected. If I were to simply heal your leg as it is now, it would be crooked, and you would walk with a limp for the rest of your life. I need to set it first, and that's the part that's going to be painful. It will be very quick, though, I promise."
She held up her herbal concoction, "Here, can you sit up? This will help a little."
Ignatz began to gingerly push himself up, but all at once there was a strong arm behind his shoulders, guiding him up and supporting him in a reclined position. Surprised, he looked over to see Dimitri settle on the cot beside him, positioning himself so that Ignatz could settle back comfortably against his shoulder. While Ignatz well remembered the fire he had seen flash through Dimitri's eyes earlier, right now the older man's touch was so gentle and caring, he allowed himself to momentarily forget the reprimand he anticipated and just enjoy the soothing sensation of being held.
Once he had downed Mercedes' odd-smelling concoction, she handed him a wad of rolled cotton, "Here, put this in your mouth. I don't want you biting your tongue. Sylvain, would you come brace his leg for me?"
As Mercedes showed Sylvain where to put his hands, Ignatz shuddered and did his best to brace himself. He felt the hand supporting his shoulder rub gently, and the next moment his hand was enveloped in a strong grip.
"You'll be alright," Dimitri murmured, reassuring, "You can squeeze as hard as you need to."
Since his mouth was full of cotton, Ignatz settled for a grateful nod.
"Are you ready, Ignatz?" Mercedes questioned. Sylvain had braced his hands on the upper part of Ignatz's shin near the knee, while Mercedes positioned hers lower near the break itself.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Ignatz nodded again.
"Alright, on three. One, two…"
There was a sickening crunch, and white-hot pain shot through Ignatz's leg. And then, it was over.
Ignatz sighed out a long breath as he released the tension that had clenched every muscle in his body. He removed the flattened cotton from his mouth and released his death grip on Dimitri's hand, sinking back against the older man. His eyes drooped, and he yawned.
"Your bone is lined up again, so I'm going to start healing you now," Mercedes crooned, "It's best you let your body rest. There was a sedative in that tonic I gave you, so you should sleep peacefully."
It must have been a powerful sedative, because Ignatz could already feel his consciousness fading as he was laid back down on the cot, but he managed to mumble out sleepily, "Thank you, Mercedes… and… Dimitri… and…"
Sylvain chuckled, watching the boy drag his eyes up to him before they drifted shut, "It's alright, Ignatz, I'll take it as implied."
As Mercedes began working over Ignatz's leg, Dimitri touched her shoulder lightly, "He will be alright, won't he?"
"Yes, he should heal up as good as new. I'm just going to need a little time," she cast a soft smile up at him, "Now, I happen to know the two of you haven't rested since the battle. You both have minor wounds you should have looked after, and then you really should take it easy for a while."
"Thank you, Mercedes. You are amazing."
"I know," she threw him a little grin and turned back to her work.
Dimitri followed Sylvain out of the tent with a promise to check on Ignatz again later that evening, knowing that until then, the young man was in very good hands.
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV
The sun was just dipping below the western horizon when Dimitri returned to the infirmary tent. Inside, he found a much calmer scene than had dominated the space earlier. Crisis care completed, most of the earlier occupants had been sent on their way, with only the more serious injuries remaining for further monitoring and treatment.
Mercedes waved at him as he entered, leaving her work on a table to come greet him, "You're here to check on Ignatz, right?"
When Dimitri confirmed her statement, she motioned for him to follow her, "I think he just finished dinner. The healing process takes a lot of the body's resources, so he's eaten quite a lot since he woke up."
Sure enough, they found Ignatz sitting up in his cot, handing an emptied bowl to one of the other healers. When he saw them approaching, an uncertain look passed over his features.
"Your highness…"
"Ignatz, how are you feeling?"
"Oh, I'm pretty much better now," he relaxed a bit and smiled, bending and straightening his leg several times to display his recovery, "I can move without it hurting at all!"
"Should you be bending it like that?" Dimitri glanced at Mercedes, still uncertain just how complete the boy's healing was.
Mercedes nodded, "Oh, it's fine; you should be able to bend it as much as you like. Bones are much easier to repair than organs, so you're lucky it was your leg and not your stomach that you injured. You should probably avoid putting weight on it until tomorrow, though, just to be safe."
"Thank you, Mercedes," Ignatz smiled, his voice and eyes full of wonder, "You really are incredible."
"Oh, stop it. One little healing job and you boys can't stop singing my praises! I'm just happy to be able to help."
"Truly, what would we do without you, Mercedes?" Dimitri questioned, shaking his head. Mercedes just smiled at him.
Turning back to Ignatz, Dimitri addressed him again, his voice retuning to a more serious tone, "Ignatz, I am glad you are recovering. Now, I think you and I need to finish our conversation from earlier."
Ignatz's eyes dropped to his lap, where his hands were fidgeting. Mercedes cast a look between the two men and, sensing the tension that had just arisen, took a small step back and held her hands up.
"That sounds like a conversation that needs to happen between the two of you. I'll leave you alone." And she did just that, returning to her work at a table on the other side of the tent.
Ignatz glanced up at Dimitri to gauge the older man's demeanor, and was surprised when he did not meet the dark glare he had expected. While Dimitri's brow was lowered in a stern frown, the expression in his eyes spoke more of grave contemplation than burning anger.
"Ignatz… I assume that after all this you understand the wrong of your actions, yes?"
"Yes sir," Ignatz's gaze dropped again, and he felt his heart sink as his thoughts returned to the battle, and how terribly wrong it had gone for him, "I-I'm so sorry I was so… I was so useless! I couldn't handle myself on the battlefield, and-and I just ended up being a burden…."
Dimitri sighed heavily, and as Ignatz looked up he thought he saw disappointment flash briefly across his features. He waited tensely in the silence that ensued, wondering what was going through the older man's mind.
For Dimitri, the boy's answer was disappointing. There was certainly a good bit of guilt in Ignatz's tone and posture, but he seemed to be focused on entirely the wrong thing. It seemed the young man would need a lesson after all.
Coming to a decision, Dimitri smoothly scooped the boy up and turned to carry him out of the infirmary. Ignatz stiffened with surprise at the sudden seizure before sputtering out, "H-Hey! W-What are you doing?"
"You are not to walk until the morning," Dimitri replied calmly, "I am simply keeping you off your leg."
"But where… where are you taking me?" Ignatz questioned, although he was beginning to get a sinking feeling he already knew.
"Somewhere a bit more private. Mercedes was right: this conversation needs to happen between just the two of us."
There was something ominous in that statement that made Ignatz shudder. He was pretty sure he knew what needing privacy for their "conversation" meant. But, helpless as he was in the older man's arms, Ignatz simply settled against Dimitri's chest with a resigned sigh.
Moments later they reached Dimitri's tent, where they met Dedue just exiting the makeshift chamber. He bowed as Dimitri approached.
"Ah, your highness; the professor asked me to deliver some battle reports for you to review, but I could not find you. I left them on your desk. I hope that is acceptable."
"Yes, thank you Dedue," Dimitri nodded, "I will look over them when I have a chance. For now, I am going to need some time alone with this one. If anyone asks after me, please tell them I am occupied."
Dedue glanced at Ignatz, who was shifting uncomfortably in Dimitri's arms, and a knowing look settled over his features, "Understood. I will see that you are not disturbed."
"Again, thank you," with a nod to his retainer, Dimitri ducked through the flap Dedue held open for him. Once inside, he sat himself on the simple cot and, in one smooth movement, flipped Ignatz around and settled him face-down over his left knee.
Ignatz wiggled for a moment: not fighting, but trying to find the most comfortable way to situate himself over the older man's knee. After all, while the position itself was familiar enough, it was usually Claude's knee he found himself bent over, and he fit differently against Dimitri's leg.
After allowing Ignatz a moment to settle in, Dimitri brought one hand to the boy's back, pushing his shirt up while the other hand stripped his trousers down to his knees. Ignatz sighed and shivered, but otherwise offered no protest.
"Now then, I want you to explain to me what you did wrong today, young man."
Ignatz's tone was full of guilt as he replied, "I failed on the battlefield. I got myself hurt and ended up being completely useless for the whole battle! I-Ah!"
"No, Ignatz," Dimitri rubbed his hand over the stinging red mark he had just left on the boy's bottom, "You will never be punished for being overcome in battle. Not by me, or Claude, or anyone else. Do you understand?"
"B-But…" Ignatz cast a confused look over his shoulder, "I couldn't… I couldn't handle myself out there! I should have been better prepared!"
Shaking his head, Dimitri brought his hand sharply across the boy's ass for the second time. "None of us can be prepared for everything. Sometimes we all face situations we are unprepared for: that is just the nature of battle. I am more concerned with the decision you made before that."
"Be-before?" Ignatz shifted uncomfortably, feeling the sting of the two swats he had received burning against his skin. He was beginning to feel a twinge of nervousness stirring in his stomach. This felt different than when Claude spanked him. While the swats themselves were not much harder than what he received from Claude, he could feel the reserved power behind those blows. He knew Dimitri was known for his uncanny strength, but feeling that strength behind the hand that cracked across his ass for the third time made him suddenly very aware of something: this man could truly hurt him, if he chose to.
Dimitri felt Ignatz's body tense for a moment, and he gave him several firm pats before letting his hand rest against his bottom. He had no intention of making this spanking overly harsh; the boy had already suffered enough pain from his mistake. However, he did intend to make sure the young man felt his position and accepted it in its entirety. The issue they were addressing was a disregard for authority, so what Dimitri was really looking for was submission.
"You never should have been in that situation to begin with, Ignatz. Where were you supposed to be?"
Ignatz squirmed and took a breath, hesitating. It was a simple question, and he knew the answer, but he found he was reluctant to admit to what the older man was really asking. When he felt the sting of Dimitri's hand smack across his ass again, however, the answer burst from his lips.
"Market! I was supposed to be on the market street with the other archers!"
"Good. And why weren't you there?"
Ignatz whined as Dimitri's hand rubbed his smarting skin, but he reluctantly answered, "Because… because it seemed like everyone down in the square needed help, and I decided… I decided I would be more useful down there…"
"Hmm, 'you decided,'" Dimitri hummed and tapped the boy's ass with just enough force to be slightly uncomfortable on his already stinging skin. "Was that your decision to make, Ignatz?"
With a soft, defeated sigh, Ignatz mumbled out, "No sir…"
"No, it wasn't. So let me ask you again: What did you do wrong, young man?"
The swat accompanying that question was a bit harder than the others, and Ignatz yelped as tears sprang into his eyes, but the tension was beginning to drain from his shoulders. His voice was small as he replied.
"I… I disobeyed…"
Feeling the young man begin to melt into submission, Dimitri let the spanking fall into a very slow rhythm while continuing to rub the boy's ass in between swats.
"That's right, Ignatz. You had your instructions, and you not only ignored them, you directly defied them."
"I… I wasn't trying to…"
Dimitri raised a brow and swatted the underside of the boy's bottom, earning a little yelp, "Are you trying to tell me you didn't know you were disobeying, young man?"
"No sir!" Ignatz hurriedly corrected, trembling at the unmistakable warning in Dimitri's tone.
"The chain of command exists for a reason, Ignatz. Everyone can't just run around doing whatever they feel like in the middle of battle: it would be chaos. That is why we plan: so when the odds are stacked against us, we still have a chance. It's not up to you to decide where you need to be, and you know that. I know you know better than to leave your position in the middle of a battle."
The tears that had been gathering in Ignatz's eyes tracked steadily down his cheeks, and he cried unrestrained, feeling the sting of Dimitri's reprimand as keenly as the sting of his hand. All he could muster in response was a pitiful "S-Sorry! M' so sor-sorry!"
Really, he had no excuse. He had just decided it was what he was going to do, and then done it. Yes, somewhere in his mind he had known he was disobeying orders, but he had not really thought much about it at the time. Now, he wished he had thought about it a little bit more.
Dimitri landed several more swats without speaking, giving the boy a moment to process. With every smack, Ignatz seemed to melt a little further over his knee, sinking into the position with a growing acceptance.
When a particularly hard swat caught the curve under his ass, Ignatz jumped and gasped before collapsing with a sob and repeating "'M so sorry!"
"What are you sorry for, Ignatz?" Dimitri questioned, rubbing a soothing pattern on the boy's back while continuing to spank his backside at the same slow, steady pace.
"S-Sorry for dis-Ah! disobeying you, and-and the professor… f-for not foll-following orders!"
"Much better, little one." Satisfied that the young man had reached a proper understanding of his wrong, Dimitri concluded the spanking with a few final swats to the middle of Ignatz's ass, "No more running off wherever you want on the battlefield, then. You will be following orders, yes?"
"Aha! Yes sir!"
"Good," Dimitri let his hand rest against the boy's hot, reddened skin and began to soothe, "Shh, it's alright. We're done, Ignatz. Hush now; good boy."
As he spoke, his other hand patted Ignatz's head and ran gently through his hair before returning to rub a soothing pattern on the boy's back. Ignatz drank in the comforting murmur and caresses as he continued to cry, making no effort to quell the sobs that shook his body.
Eventually, though, the tears slowed and the sobs abated. Turning his head towards the older man, he questioned in a tiny, hesitant voice, "…Dimitri?"
"What is it, Ignatz?"
"Did… did we lose people in the market? I mean… did people die?"
Dimitri gazed back at the young man's wide, searching eyes for a moment before answering, "Yes, some did."
Ignatz turned back to rest his forehead on his folded arms, his voice trembling as he whispered, "If I had been where I was supposed to be, maybe… maybe some of those people-Ah!"
He cut off when a sharp impact reignited the smoldering sting in his ass.
"Ignatz, there is no use dwelling on what might have been," Dimitri's tone was firm but gentle, and he continued to rub Ignatz's back as he spoke, "War is ugly, and unfortunately, people die. It's a risk we're all aware of. I am not asking you to overlook, or even accept their deaths, but I will not have you consuming yourself with guilt over them. There is no way to know how things would have gone."
"Yes sir," Ignatz let out a long breath, allowing all traces of tension to leave his body. He knew Dimitri was right and, submitted as he was to the king's judgement, he was able to accept the conclusion and let it go without resistance.
A wide yawn stretched its way across Ignatz's features, and he heard Dimitri chuckle softly. Next moment, his trousers were stripped completely off from where they had bunched around his ankles, leaving him in only his soft linen shirt, and a strong arm under his torso guided him gently up until he found himself staring into Dimitri's deep blue eyes.
Dimitri smiled as he took in the boy's tousled hair and sleep-heavy eyes, "You need to rest now, little one. You still have some recovering to do."
Ignatz's only response was to collapse against Dimitri's chest and curl himself up in his lap. Dimitri wrapped his arms around the boy and held him, gently rocking back and forth until he felt his breaths even out into the long, slow sighs of sleep. Carefully shifting position, he laid his young charge gently on the cot and pulled the blankets over him.
As he settled at his desk to look over the battle reports Dedue had left, he glanced back at the sleeping boy with a small smile. With lips slightly parted and his hair falling over his eyes, Ignatz looked even younger than he actually was, and Dimitri felt a familiar protective instinct well up in his chest. He prayed the boy would take this lesson to heart, and really would stop putting himself in unnecessary danger, as he seemed to have a particular knack for.
With a contemplative sigh, he turned back to his work and muttered, "I hope things are going much more smoothly for Claude…"