The Girl in the Mirror

by sarathechimera

Byleth awakes from a violent, war-torn dream to find herself alone in a moonlit chamber. The veil between reality and dream thins as mysterious, haunting visions allude to a secret lurking below the surface of peace. Will Byleth pull on the thread to pursue the truth, knowing that it may unravel the life she has longed for and finally attained? Sequel to Indelible and Inescapable

2. After Dinner

And yet, it was not okay. Shortly after breakfast Dimitri was called away to attend masters of industry and influential merchants. All of them had concerns regarding the new treaty. "To delay meeting with them would cause greater turmoil in the future," he explained, regret evident in his voice as he took his leave of her.

Left to her own devices, the radiant joy that had filled her began to dim and fade into doubt. She assumed that the longer she sat in this place, with these people, the more familiar they would become. But they did not. The corridors and rooms in the palace remained unfamiliar to her and she was hesitant to ask for guidance as she wandered. Everyone she encountered knew her and the idea of alerting them to something amiss seemed disastrous.

Eventually, she found the library. It was modest in size compared to the library at Garreg Mach. This appeared to be a private collection, curated by the royal families that had occupied the palace. She skimmed the titles of thick ancient histories that catalogued bloodlines and possession of crests. There were leather bound, hand written books that might have been journals or ledgers, records of war and great deeds intermingled with myths and legends of past kings and heroes lining all the shelves.

Spying the title "Loog and the Maiden of the Wind" Ashe came to her mind and she took the book from the shelf. She wondered how he was now that he was no longer at the monastery. Subsequently, she wondered how all her Blue Lions were fairing.

The troubling thought that some might have perished in the battle defending the monastery sprang up but she tucked it away hurriedly. She would not have allowed any of her students to die so there was no use entertaining such an irrational fear. However, she'd been unable to save her own father. A swift shake of her head banished such thoughts before she could become lost in them.

She needed a distraction while she waited for her memories to return. All of this worrying would have her pacing the grounds like a caged animal and the book in her hands would be just the thing. Snuggling into one of the high-backed, cushioned chairs before the fireplace, she began to read. She'd read this book before but, in such a disorienting place, familiarity of any sort was comforting.

No sooner had she settled than attendants arrived to light the fire for her. She watched them over the cover of her book but none of them even glanced up to her as they worked. A steaming cup of coffee appeared at the table beside her with no trace of who had placed it there. As she studied the cup beside her, the attendants completed their work and dismissed themselves silently. She didn't even hear them leave. It was as though they had evaporated, and the only evidence that they had been there in the first place was a pleasantly crackling fire in the hearth.

Had she truly been able to adjust to living like this? Being dressed as though she were a child was one thing but servants anticipating her needs and meeting them without so much as a word was another. Hoping that she could remember at least something about this place soon, she turned her attention back to her book. Gradually, the peace and quiet of seclusion came for her and, soothed by the soft crackle and occasional pop from the fire, her chin dipped as slumber overtook her.

Byleth spent the day drifting in and out of sleep. Somehow, she could simply not rouse herself. Shaking her head upon waking, she'd look to the book in her lap and discover that she retained nothing on the page. She would note that the sun was a little higher in the sky and the fire a little lower as she stretched before returning to the top of the page only to repeat the process again. She passed the entire day in this way, even munching on the lunch that magically appeared on the table at her elbow but was not able to make it past the first page of the book. That is, until she was roused by one of two familiar voices in the palace.

"My queen, wake up!" It was Margaret. "My, but you must have been exhausted by this morning's excitement."

"What time is it?" Byleth asked, groggily rubbing her eyes.

"It is time to prepare for dinner. You've slept the day away!"

"Dinner?" she asked, still not fully awake.

"Yes!" came the exasperated reply. "You must not make napping like this a habit, your Majesty! Now, come. Come! We must get you ready for dinner."

"Get me ready for dinner?" she repeated, dread beginning to rise from the pit of her stomach.

It was time for dinner and she had to be redressed and groomed. This, she was reminded, was proper and expected of her station. Thankfully, she did not have to be bathed but she was subjected to a new set of highbred labors. These included a corset which was bound so tightly that she thought her crest stone would become dislodged should she try to breathe too deeply, a new thinner sheath dress and a delicate lace gown that plunged at the neckline. For dinner and entertaining, this sort of neckline was acceptable, according to Margaret. Then her hair had to be re-combed and braided and makeup applied to her face. At least she was not expected to do all of this herself or she would not have made it to the grand dining hall at all.

The guests had all arrived when she was announced beneath the arched doorway and Dimitri quickly dismissed himself from the portly gentleman he'd been conversing with near one of the twin fireplaces. He smiled at her and bent to kiss her cheek before escorting her to her seat at the elegantly dressed table.

Dimitri did not have business to attend to over this meal but they were joined by lords and merchants of high rank who had been invited to dine at his majesty's return. It seemed they did not expect her to speak too much aside from gracious acknowledgements of compliments concerning her appearance. Much like that morning, he remained focused on his guests and had few glances to spare her but the food was excellent and Byleth was content to dine and observe her husband as he spoke with his guests.

There was hardly a murmur when Dimitri stood to thank the guests for attending them and beg their forgiveness for his early departure. "I have traveled far this day and there is still much work to be done. Please remain and enjoy the dessert prepared for this evening."

All the guests thanked him and wished him long life and good health. They remained standing as he strode across the hall, stopping by Byleth's chair. "Shall we retire, my queen?"

They walked at a regal pace through the arched doorway and up the grand staircase. Dimitri held his head aloft, eyes forward as they moved. Byleth glanced at him occasionally but he did not turn his head to acknowledge her. Who was this Dimitri, she wondered? If she did not remember their past together, could she believe that he was more than a stranger to her?

Servants in livery lined both sides of the corridor with hands to their chests. As the royal couple passed, they bent at the waist or curtsied low with such precision that Byleth was reminded of clockwork toys she'd seen in the market. Still in silence, they stepped into a room that resembled the chamber she had ruined that morning only it was smaller and less grand in its decor. There were more servants inside who were preparing the room and stopped their work to bow as they stepped over the threshold. Dimitri dismissed them courteously and in mere moments they were finally alone together.

As the door shut behind the servants, Dimitri abruptly dropped her hand from his arm and stepped jovially into the room. "I will never get used to dining so formally," he said, rolling his shoulders and tilting his head to stretch his neck. "Couldn't you see them all bristling with questions about the treaty? It's a wonder any of them ate at all!"

She smiled, watching him revel in his victory. It was evident in his step that he'd been brimming to say this since they left the table though he had hidden it expertly until they were alone.

"I would much rather have dined alone with you," he said, closing the distance between them and taking her cheeks tenderly in his hands. Her eyes fluttered shut as her lips parted slightly in anticipation of the kiss she knew was coming but instead of pressing his lips to hers, he brushed the softest of kisses across her lips and remained so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. It took every ounce of control that she had to stay planted on her feet rather than rolling up to kiss him.

Her breath caught in her throat as she waited to feel him again but when he did not move in to kiss her fully, she opened her eyes. He was gazing down at her, studying her face with an emotion in his eyes that she couldn't name. The ice of his eyes softened as she looked and when he next spoke his voice was heavy and low, "Being apart from you was almost unbearable."

Her stomach leapt but her tone remained composed. "Was it?"

"Yes. How did you manage?"

She studied him for a moment, swallowing to wet her throat and surprsess the urge to confess everything to him. If this was the same Dimitri she had known at the academy, he would understand or even help her regain what she had lost. But how could she be sure?

Even stronger than her cynicism and her doubts was her affection for him. Her face softened as her defenses crumbled beneath the weight of his gaze and the nearness of his lips, exploiting her weakness for him. "I don't know," she answered, almost too softly to hear.

Dimitri dipped his face again to kiss her. His lips felt just as she remembered. Timidly, she returned his kiss, shifting to place her hands lightly on his chest. She could feel the steady, strong beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. It quickened as he released her face to run his hands down her sides stopping to rest on the curve of her hips and sealed his lips to her own.

"I've missed you. So much," he uttered in the short, breathy breaks between kisses, toying with her lips before taking them again.

Her body began to play for his touch. It would be so easy to forget her guilt at her partial truths and let go while in his arms. She felt a low, distant ache began to spread and grow along her inner thighs as his thumbs rubbed back and forth along the tops of her hips. Byleth slid her arms around his neck to draw herself snuggly against him. Dimitri sighed softly against her lips as she pressed against him and he tilted his head to roll his tongue past her lips which had parted eagerly to accept him. He tasted just as she remembered.

The warmth of his gaze, tenderness of his touches and the growing heat of his kisses all suggested that this was the same man she had fought alongside and loved so fiercely. But this was madness! Could she have dared to believe this was possible? In what realm of possibility could he have married her, a commoner and mercenary? As though on que, he departed from her lips to speak again before descending along her jawline. "Oh, how I love you."

Her eyes shot open at this, fixed on the ceiling but not seeing it. He loved her? He declared it as though it should be no surprise and freely without inhibition. What seemed like mere days ago, they had acted on base impulse, primal instinct and strain from grief and loss. She had not begun to process or even come to grips with how she felt about him. Was she capable of loving someone? Wasn't that something reserved for maidens or fairy tales and not for mercenary demons?

Even as she tried to rush through the thoughts and complex weavings of her feelings, her body remained responsive to him, she felt as though she were vibrating beneath his hands and lips. He held her, hands splayed against her lower back, his lips had descended to the curve of her neck. Regardless of the word that would define her feelings, she desired him. She tilted her head back to grant him access to the length of her neck and thought, for now, the truth could wait.

No sooner had she made up her mind not to make up her mind than his mouth brushed past a sensitive spot on her neck. She then felt the smooth heat of his tongue drag across it and her stomach tightened. Her eyes widened in surprise as he pressed his lips and tongue heavily against the same spot and white hot tendrils of pleasure spread like wildfire throughout her. She gasped as he did it again. Her toes curled and her hands shifted to grasp at his shoulders reflexively contracting as he continued.

The graze of his teeth against her neck sent another wave of intense pleasure along her centre her and she grasped the hair at the base of his neck. Unsure of whether her intention was to draw him away or to pull him closer she dug her nails into his hair, tangling her fingers in the thick silken strands. In the end, she drew him closer.

She felt him grin against the flesh of her neck and he exhaled a laugh, obviously pleased with himself and the response he had elicited. Pins and needles shot down her legs and they shook as he alternated, tongue, teeth, suck. Subtly, without detection, he moved a hand to cradle the back of her head. She surrendered to him, allowing him to support the full weight of her head and leaned her body fully against him. She could feel his arousal against her straining through his trousers and the memory of holding the length of him in her hands sent heat coursing through her, blazing onto her face and cheeks.

Her breath was coming in short, ragged bursts. "What… are you…doing to me," she managed to say, struggling to remain composed despite the deep ache that throbbed at her centre.

All at once, he stopped but she could still feel his breath clearly across her skin as he spoke, "I haven't been gone so long that I would forget." His tongue darted out again to flick across that cursed and glorious spot. The muscles of her stomach clenched in response.

Her nerves were on fire and she gulped at the air as strength returned to her limbs during this respite. She wanted to ask him, demand that he tell her how he knew her body better than she. But she knew. They had done this before. How many times? Unbidden, the doubts and questions she thought she had dismissed rose again. He knew her so well and she did not know him at all.

As though he could hear her thoughts he raised his face from her neck. With hands still shaking from clutching at his clothing and hair, she took his face in her hands, gently brushing her thumbs along his cheekbones. "Do I know you?" she thought.

His brow furrowed and she saw herself reflected in his eyes. "Have I been gone too long?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with apprehension or, perhaps, guilt.

"No," she answered promptly. The thought that he should feel guilty when she was the source of hesitation and uncertainty was too much to bear. She needed him to know that this was not his fault.

"Are you angry with me?" he tried again to understand the strange distance between them.

"No," she insisted again.

"Are you disappointed at my clumsy attempt to seduce you?"

"Hush," she said gently, touching his lips with the tip of her finger and smiling up at him. "You are not clumsy and you could never disappoint me."

He chuckled softly with relief and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Do you remember the first time that I saw you smile?" he asked. She did but he did not pause for her response. "I will never forget. You lead a successful rescue mission and recovered Flayn. Your smile was so… genuine and radiant. I teased you about it. Do you remember?"

Her stomach flipped. Of course she remembered but she dared not fully embrace the slim hope that they shared the same memory and what that could mean. She nodded and he continued.

"It took me a long time and a lot of reflection to learn why I had teased you. I dismissed it at the time but, I wanted to see you smile again and… I wanted to be the reason you smiled."

She could see the truth of his words in his eyes and the rapture growing within her threatened to burst forth. Her breath was caught, squeezing in her chest and she tore her eyes away from his to press her cheek against his chest. The man she held tightly in her arms was her Dimitri and defying the natural order of life, he loved her.

"I know this isn't the first time that I've told you this and goodness knows it won't be the last but… I am reminded of it every time you smile at me," he continued, tenderly caressing the back of her neck.

She smiled, her shoulders raising to hide the joyful tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"I have been gone a long time and I know that life here has been different for you. I know that you must have been so lonely and then to spend another day, today, apart… If the way that I felt being apart from you is even a faction of what you felt… I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this. What I mean to say is… I'll understand if you need time to…"

"I don't need time," she cut him off she said, shifting to wipe at her eyes with her wrist.

"You don't?" she couldn't see his face from her position but she could hear the surprise in his voice.

"No," she said, raising her face to meet his gaze. The corner of her lips curled up forming a playful smirk. "I will need help with these buttons." The surprise on his face quickly shifted, his eagerness evident as she stepped back to turn and glance over her shoulder.

She waited but he did not move to close the distance between them. Instead, he hesitated with his hands fidgeting at his sides. He looked nervous which, given the boldness of his kisses only a moment ago, seemed strange.

She smiled encouragingly to him. "I hope that you have not forgotten how to undo them?"

"I…" he cleared his throat still not venturing nearer. "The buttons are so small and delicate. Maybe I should call Margaret to…"

"Dimitri!" she said, her tone shifting to incredulity.

Silenced by her tone he licked his lips, visually steeling himself for the task. "I will try."

Smiling to herself, she turned away from him, holding on to the bodice of the lace gown. She could feel his hands working at the row of tiny buttons that ran down the back of her gown and the purposeful even sound of his controlled breath.

The bodice began to loosen slowly as he worked when suddenly she heard a soft snap followed by the sound of something small and hard bouncing along the floor. She pretended not to notice until it happened again. Dimitri muttered something unintelligible under his breath. She pursed her lips to keep herself from chuckling.

The third time it happened Dimitri sighed. "These buttons are so delicate," he said, frustration obvious in his tone.

"It is a good thing I am not so delicate," she said, glancing over her shoulder to him again. He straightened as though caught doing something he should not be doing and ran his hand down across his lips in frustration.

"I'm sorry," he said, embarrassment evident in his voice and the color on his cheeks. "I've made a mess of things, haven't I?"

The answer was right in front of him but, as she remembered distinctively, Dimitri was never one to think clearly when put on the spot or embarrassed. "Well," she started patiently. "I can't undo them myself and I forbid you to call Margaret. If only there was some other way to open the back of this dress…" She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, feigning ignorance.

"Byleth. I've already tried and you've lost three buttons. You'd think by now I'd be better at this!"

Suppressing a sigh, Byleth lowered her eyes from the ceiling to meet him evenly and directly. "I don't care about the buttons."

The way she looked at him gave him pause and his blinked, considering. "You don't?"

"No," she said, grinning as he caught on to the hints she was bludgeoning him with. "But I do need out of this dress."

His eyes widened for the briefest of moments and he started toward her with an unbridled zeal. "I can do that."

Laughter bubbled up within her and she chuckled, turning her back to him. Once again, she felt his hands on her back. His fingers laced in between the buttons and just as she prepared herself for the sensation and sound of ripping fabric he froze. "You're sure about this?"

"Dimitri!"

"Alright! Alright. I just want to make sure before I destroy your dress." Without another moment's delay, he laced his fingers through the gaps in the fabric and with a shower of buttons he tore the gown open.

She had imagined that the sensation of having the clothing ripped from her body would be exhilarating but, as the fabric of her gown loosened, held up only by her hands at the neckline, she somehow felt out of place. Her breath seemed caught between her stomach and chest and her throat was unusually dry.

Before, their joining had come from a primal need for comfort and connection, this was a quiet, private intimacy that she had never experienced before. The vulnerability she felt was crippling, nearly suffocating but she forced herself to turn to face him. She found that she was trembling and unable to raise her eyes from his chest to his face and her cheeks blazed red as she struggled to overcome this sudden shyness.

She saw his hands twitch at his sides, the tell-tale sign that he longed to touch her but was restraining himself. She could feel his eyes on her face and she begged herself to raise her gaze but he spoke before she could manage. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

"No… " she paused, searching for the words to describe the tangle of fear and embarrassment knotted within her. "I am afraid that I am different than you remember. I feel… vulnerable." Blinking, she looked up to him and found a gentle, understanding smile on his face.

She returned to his arms. His hug was warm and comforting and she pressed her cheek to his chest. "I am afraid too," he confessed. "I might be different than what you remember as well but we could learn again. Together?"

"I would like that."

"Could I help you out of that dress and then," he paused to press his lips to the top of her head. "I'll follow your lead?"

She nodded and lowered her arm from his waist. Glancing shyly up at him through the veil of her eye lashes, she found him smiling gently. Lovingly, he took her hand to balance her as she released the lace gown. It whispered to the floor at her feet and she stepped lightly out of it.

Still unable to look up at him, she focused on the buttons of his coat. One by one, she undid them until it was fully open to reveal the snowy fabric of the shirt beneath. Her hands trembled as she pressed them to his stomach, noting the rigid, taut muscle there. How often had she imagined the feel of his body beneath her hands? And yet, she had not considered the immense pleasure of exploring him with scrupulous care.

Her stomach fluttered as she poured over each isolated part of his torso. Flattening her palms against him she dragged her hands up and then across the tightness of his chest and along the expanse of his shoulders to pull his coat over them.

He stood patiently and still, appearing to be at ease save for the occasional shudder of his breath as her hands traversed the plains of his stomach and chest. She continued to marvel at his musculature as her fingers trailed down the length of his arms. The fine hairs on his arms stood beneath her fingertips.

At long last, his coat fell from his arms and she felt the bare skin of his hands. Her fingers flexed and unfurled along his. She had repositioned these hands countless times on the shaft of a spear or the hilt of a sword and she knew that the power in them was undeniable. She felt his fingers turn in response to her own, these tools of war becoming soft and tender. She wanted to feel them on her body again.

Byleth took his hands in her own and placed them on the curve of her waist, above the hip. His fingers contracted, trembling as he squeezed the soft flesh of her waist gently and then again at the swell of her hips. He began to gather the fabric of her sheath dress, inching it higher into his grasp as he worked his fingers. When the length of the skirt had been gathered, he slipped his hands beneath to feel the softness of her skin there. The pressure of his palms as he ran them up, pulling the fabric with him was electric, stoking a subtle warmth within her stomach. She sighed softly at the feel of those hands touching her again and her eyes to slip shut.

She allowed him to direct her arms, raising them over her head. His touch became feather-light, grazing along her arms as he pulled her dress over her head to expose the tightly bound skin colored corset and white, knee length shorts. She felt several strands of hair pull from her braid and she was suddenly self-conscious but the feel of his hands encircling hers prevented her from adjusting it. Soon, she wouldn't give her hair another thought.

He was so much taller than she remembered. Standing this close to him, she had to look sharply up to his face. He slowly lowered her arms to press his lips to her wrists. The heat of his breath, the softness of his lips and the smooth texture of his tongue sent deep ripples of excitement through her stomach and the sight of his mouth dragging along the flesh of her arm, luxuriating in the suppleness of her skin, stirred heat in the pit of her stomach. Her breasts, lifted and constricted as they were in the corset heaved with her breath.

When he reached the curve of her elbow, he caught her gaze as she watched him and color sprung to her cheeks. His brows furrowed slightly as though his thoughts had suddenly become heavy and she looked away quickly.

She heard him make a soft decisive sound and when she turned her face to look at him again, the Tempest King of Faerghus lowered himself to his knees in front of her. Her embarrassment blazed across her cheeks but, before she could protest or pull at him to rise, he wrapped his arms around her to draw her close enough to press his forehead against her stomach.

Gazing down at the top of his golden head, she was reminded of their first joining, how she had pressed her lips there, committing the scent of him to her memory and longing to hold him forever. She held his head tenderly in her trembling hands.

"I will never leave your side again," he said with the solemnity of someone swearing a great oath. "Now that my father's work is nearing completion, nothing can tear me from your side, my beloved. I swear this to you."

Her sigh released with it all the uncertainty and sorrow she had carried since that night. They could and would be together through whatever fate had been gracious and merciful enough to allow this to come to pass.

Slowly and reverently, he released her and shifted back to remove her shoes for her. He then placed his hands on the bare skin of her calves to rove up toward her thighs, thumbs and palms heavy on the outside of her legs. When he reached her thighs, he rose onto his knees again. The fabric of her undergarment was thin giving the feel and illusion of his hands touching her skin directly as he raked them upward, exploring the thick muscles of her thighs.

At the top of her thighs he dragged his thumbs along crease there, inching closer to the sensitive joining between her legs. Her stomach tightened and her legs flexed beneath his caress but instead of venturing further between, he continued back and forth as though coaxing a fire to life. Indeed, the pressure and continued motion sparked a deep burning that ran from her thighs up through her groin and it spread, intensifying as he worked.

Her teeth clamped down on her lower lip to stifle the sounds threatening to accompany her breath. She craved his touch and the taste of him. The continual motion of his fingers and the fire beginning to burn within her drove her to take hold of his face and angle it upward so that she could bend to kiss him. She crushed her lips fiercely against his and released a groan against his mouth as her tongue aggressively sought his. Dimitri's breath carried pleased sounds of his own as their lips and tongues matched the motion and heat between hands and body.

Her thighs began to shake and the sounds coming from her became labored with her breath. Her legs threatened to buckle and she gripped his shoulders again to steady herself, unwilling to break from his lips. Much to her dismay, he slowly began to drag his hands away from her centre, down the front of her thigh while his thumbs maintained heavy pressure against the tense inner muscle. Her breath drew out into pants and the burning he had created became a deep throbbing within her. Her innermost muscles quivered as he began his next ascent continuing to massage her tender, flexed muscles, thumbs drawing even closer to her most intimate space.

Again, he stopped just short of the mound between her legs, rubbing in arcs that just grazed along her lips with his thumbs. Her frustration and anticipation were plainly expressed in the heat of her kisses and the involuntary rock of her hips as she tried to relieve the pressure of the painful ache within her.

Reading her body as though it were text on a page, Dimitri's hand slid up, pushing flat through the seam of her legs which she spread with little prompting. Byleth moaned with relief at the feel of his palm against the throbbing between her thighs and rocked forward grinding against his hand. They soon fell into an intimate rhythm with a rock of his palm and the grind of her hips. Her breath became light again as she moved. The jolts of smoldering pleasure raced through her as the heel of his palm rubbed against the sensitive gathering of nerves at the peak of her slit and his fingers probed through the fabric of her undergarments which had grown damp with her arousal.

Her head began to swim and she gasped for air by breaking her lips away from his. Her ribs attempted to expand but the restriction of the corset bit against her. "Dimitri," she said breathlessly, pressing her cheek to the top of his head. "Please… the corset…"

She straightened and swayed slightly. He steadied and turned her in an instant with hands on her hips. He must have begun fumbling with the lacing because when it did not loosen she panted an additional direction, "Quickly!"

He needed no further instruction and the next sound she heard was the popping of metal rings and the tearing of stitching as he ripped the corset open. Byleth exhaled in relief and her lungs, newly freed, seemed to billow with air. The cold of the room rushed in against her skin, damp with sweat, and goose bumps sprang up all over her.

Despite the cold, her blood was on fire, pulsing molten desire through her veins. So, this is what it felt like to have one's clothes torn passionately apart! She threw what remained of the shredded corset aside before returning to dip and gather his face in her hands. Her hunger for him was ever present and she deepened her kiss.

His breath caught this time as she aggressively fell against him and in the process of catching her his appetite for the feel of her skin was whetted. The flesh of her stomach and back, most often hidden beneath her clothing or armor was soft and smooth from lack of exposure. He could not touch enough of her skin at once to satiate his need to feel her and he raked his hands up her back and down her ribs.

Sharing in the need to feel the skin of her lover, she dropped her hands to gather the fabric of his shirt as he kissed her hungrily. Their tongues clashed and they were loath to part long enough for him to raise his arms to wriggle out of his shirt. The process loosened his hair from its tie and it fell across his face, golden and gleaming in the light of the fire. She raked her fingers through it, pulling it away from his face. It felt like silken threads in her fingers.

One of his hands glided across her ribs to palm the underside of one of her breasts, lifting it and toying lightly with the weight of it. As the rough calluses of his fingers fanned across her nipple the sensitive flesh hardened, springing to life in response to his touch.

His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, at her breast, back, hip, slipping through the pant line of her remaining undergarments to cup and squeeze the cheek of her bottom. Gripping her backside firmly, he dragged her against him and in the process ripped his lips from hers to press to her stomach which quivered in response. He pulled his hand out from her clothing to hold her tightly along the small of her back keeping her in place as he indulged in the taste of sweat on her skin.

She shut her eyes, intent on feeling the texture of his hair in her fingers, his hand massaging her breast and his lips pressed then dragging lower to her navel and then below. His breath was hot, coming in bursts from his nose and mouth as he moved. Her body sang for him and her lips parted to emit soft, heated sensual sounds in time with her panting breath.

Her stomach flexed and her insides clenched as he suddenly tilted his head and ran his tongue provocatively along and under the band of her small clothes. Her toes flexed as he moved slowly, wetly across her skin.

"Dimitri…" her voice quivered as she spoke.

"Yes?" he answered, barely raising his lips from her skin long enough to be understood. His voice was low in his throat.

"Will you…" her knees shook as his tongue once again dipped below the line of her breaches.

"Anything," he muttered.

She paused, hearing the promise in his response. "Lower?"

She felt his grin spread wickedly against her skin before he wrapped his arms around her legs to lift her effortlessly as he rose to his feet. An uncharacteristic squeak slipped out of her as her feet left the ground, silenced by the return of his lips to hers. With swift and intrepid confidence, she was lifted, shifted and lowered to stand and then sit in one of the high-backed chairs situated before the fire.

He pulled away from her lips and she followed until she was forced to part from him or fall forward from the chair. Their chests heaved with their breath and his lips were flush as she imagined hers were as well. He looked unearthly, kneeling before her, backlit by the fire which set his hair alight. It glistened and fell wildly about his face. The shadows cast along him sharply defined the build of his shoulders and chest.

He rose to his knees to take her chin tenderly in his hand. He pressed his thumb to her lips which she took into her mouth, wrapping her tongue around it before biting lightly. The action yielded the desired result, a visible shiver passed through his body.

With a feral laugh, he gripped the back of her head and kissed her with such ferocity that her feet flexed. Just as she began to respond in kind, he ripped his lips from hers to kiss along her jaw and then her neck. His hands gripped her thighs again, thumbs resuming their work along her flexed thighs. She squirmed in the chair as his lips, tongue and teeth ravaged the skin along her collarbone and down to her chest. She tangled her hands in his hair, desperate for something to hold on to. His mouth would be at her breasts in a moment and her nipples hardened, flushing crimson in anticipation.

At last, he took her breasts into his hands, lifting the left to drag his tongue along the round, fleshy top. His breath carried with it the sound of his enjoyment and she flexed her hands in his hair to pull firmly at the roots. His breathy sounds became a fully vocalized groan as she tugged. As if in response to the pull, he closed his mouth over the bumps which had risen on her areola and her flushed, erect nipple. The hot wetness of his tongue lapped back and forth on her nipple and his opposite hand began to massage her other breast more firmly. Byleth arched her back, her breath becoming ragged as he sucked.

So enraptured was she in the movements of his tongue she did not notice his hand leave her right breast until she felt him lay hold of the soft flesh of her hips to drag her forward, positioning her on the edge of the chair. A thrill spiked throughout her at the unspoken command in his direction. With a smack, he parted his lips from her breast and without pause resumed his descent, dragging his lips and tongue down her stomach, reveling once again in the suppleness of her skin.

As he came to the band of her under garments he pushed her legs further apart to rest on either side of his shoulders. The ache in her legs ran all the way up through her centre and she realized she'd been compressing her knees as the pressure built within her. She opened her legs at his touch and Dimitri dragged his hands with excruciating slowness and exquisite pressure up her inner thighs beginning just above the knee. Unable to keep hold of his hair, she untangled her fingers and clutched at the ornate arms of the chair.

She felt herself begin to coil and wind with mounting pressure as he neared her most intimate place which had begun to throb in anticipation. When he reached the threshold of her, he dug both thumbs into both sides of her, following the crease between her outer lips and thigh. She could feel both the pressure of his thumbs externally and the pressure of her outer folds pushing together against her swollen inner lips. She could not suppress a wanton moan as he repeated this motion several times in succession.

Her legs twitched as pleasure raced through her groin and thighs. Back and forth he continued, watching her chin lift with each gasp for breath. She bit her lip and tried futilely to be still but her toes and fingers flexed in time with his movements, her nails dug into the wood of the chair arms. Finally, after endless teasing, he placed a hand over her mound through the damp fabric of her small clothes and dragged his palm heavily along the length of her opening. He rocked his palm slightly as he progressed as though he were looking for something but the pressure itself and the heat from his hand kept her panting and craving more.

All at once, the heel of his palm rocked over the small bundle of nerves at the peak of her slit and a long guttural moan burst from her lips. Had her eyes been open, they would have rolled back into her head which she tossed back sharply at the rocking pressure he applied. Had her eyes been open, she would also have seen the hungry way Dimitri watched her, writhing in the chair under his touch, still partially clothed.

Each roll of his hand sent waves of heat raging through her centre. As he slowly increased the speed she could feel her inner lips burning, her inner muscles tightening. Her mouth hung open and her hands continued to clutch and grasp at the arms of the chair. Low, long groans and moans accompanied her panting breaths and her legs strained, pushing in against Dimitri's broad shoulders.

Again, he slowed and she felt his free hand move to the waist line of her breeches. Frenzied in her ecstasy, she nearly ripped the clothing from her legs as she assisted him in their removal. Having only a moment's reprieve did not prepare her for the euphoria of his bare hand against the lips of her sex.

His fingers splayed in the curled, dark hair that feathered outward from between her legs, just above the spot where his palm continued rocking at a fast but steady pace. Her skin was on fire and she could think of nothing but the divine pleasure coursing throughout her with each move of his hand.

In mere moments of resumed stimulation, she noticed the coiled pressure building inside of her. Her whole body throbbed and just as her innermost muscles began to contract within her Dimitri gently spread her outer lips apart and entered her with a single finger.

Her eyes shot open and her back arched as the velvety walls within her began to contract around his finger. He did not need to push deeply, nor did he, but he began to slide out and back inside of her, adding a second as her body stretched to accommodate him. The wetness of her arousal lubricated his movements and her body longed to hold fast to him each time he withdrew. The friction between the clinging of her muscles and the steady thrust of his fingers tightened the pressure within her, winding the white-hot tendrils of pleasure that had spread throughout her tightly along her centre.

In. Out. Up. Down. The pressure became so great that she could stand it no longer. "Faster," she panted and he obliged. Then all at once, her breath caught in her chest and her entire body went rigid but he did not cease his movements. Time stopped and the world around her stretched until it snapped in twain and her breath roared out of her along with a strangled cry.

Her inner muscles clamped down tightly around Dimitri's fingers, the pressure again sending shockwaves of burning ecstasy through her hips down to her toes. She could hardly remember to breath as she shook violently in the quake of her climax. Gasping for air, the tremors within her ebbed. She gazed at the ceiling and shuddered as he withdrew his hands.

His tongue was once again on her body, moving up as he rose from his kneeling position on the floor. She sat up languidly to meet him, wrapping her legs around his waist. He leaned into her, the warmth and firmness of his stomach solid against her sex still dripping from her orgasm. He looked like he was about to say something but rather than give him the chance, she took hold of his face in her hands and kissed him, drinking in the taste of him and suggestively rolling her tongue into his mouth. No sooner had the kiss begun than she broke away with a smack. They searched one another's eyes for a moment before mirrored wicked smiles spread across their faces.

"You can't be through with me yet, can you?" she asked, intoxicated by the feel of his body against her.

"Never," he said with such sincerity that she was certain the crest stone in her chest would melt. "What should we do now?"

"This time," she said, grinning up at him. "You take the lead."

"How can this be," she wondered to herself as she lay watching her lover sleep beside her bathed in firelight from the gently crackling flames filling the hearth. Not her lover, she reminded herself, her husband.

He lay on his side, his face partially obscured by the pillow that supported his head and she could see his lashes resting dark against his pale skin. His breath came soft and rhythmic as he slept deeply, the expression on his face relaxed and peaceful.

Her gaze drifted to admire the lean musculature of his chest, shoulder and arm all left outside of the blankets and she smirked at the remnants of red scratch marks blazing along the curve of his shoulder. Remnants of their love-making could be seen on her as well and she fingered the bite marks on her neck. Her body still hummed her from her recent climax and, had he not traveled so far to return home, Dimitri might have remained awake to enjoy her once again before daybreak.

She longed to remember how she had come to this place. Her memories were still hazy or missing altogether after the battle at Garreg Mach. She remembered Dimitri vividly, sleep deprived and tortured in the days leading up to the confrontation. She remembered the bitter sweetness of their coupling the night before and accepting that it could never happen again. And yet, as evidenced by today's events, it did.

Letting her gaze wander about the room, Byleth spied a porcelain pitcher of water and its matching basin along with a set of crystal tumblers on the dressing table. The evening's vigor suddenly caught up with her and she discovered that she was incredibly thirsty. The thirst was strong enough to tempt her away from the warmth of the blankets and the soothing sound of Dimitri's breathing.

Even in the warmest moons of the year, the nights in Fhirdiad were frigid. No sooner had she slipped out from under the blankets than the cold air rushed in to nip at her nakedness. Rather than recoil Byleth wrapped an extra fur around her shoulders from the mountain of blankets on the bed.

The cold of the tiled floor was shocking against her bare feet as she scampered over to the dressing table and the soft rug peeking out from beneath it. Wiggling her toes in the plush fibers, she sighed in relief.

Dimitri shifted in bed behind her and she watched him in the mirror as he rolled onto his back and tucked an arm behind his head. Dark red marks ran along the pale perfection of his chest and side in addition to those on his shoulder. She chuckled softly, remembering the hissing sound he'd made when she'd given those to him and the ferocious passion of his response.

Turning to her reflection in the mirror mounted above the dressing table, her chuckle nearly became a giggle as she worked to undo what remained of her braid. Color sprang to her cheeks as she recalled the feel of Dimitri's fingers tangled and pulling those strands a little while ago. The memory sent tingles through her stomach and chest.

Her blush began to burn as she revisited in her mind's eye turning onto her stomach, face and hands buried into the fur atop their bed, her hips held high. Dimitri's arms had supported his weight on either side of her, their skin was slick with sweat. His breath had been hot on the back of her neck. Her stomach leapt as she remembered his voice, low and heated in her ear, "Please. Do not hold back. Let me hear you."

This previously unexplored position allowed him to bury himself so deep within her that she could not stifle the sounds of her pleasure with each movement of his hips. Then, he had shifted his weight onto a single arm, the other wrapping across her stomach to cup and massage her breast in time with the movement of his thrusts. It was no wonder that her throat was parched.

As she took the tumbler in her hand, the firelight filling the room began to dim. They must have stayed up the whole night together for the fire to be dwindling noticeably she thought. Suddenly, she felt as though she were being watched and she clutched the fur even tighter about her.

Dimitri was still sleeping soundly in the bed behind her, she could plainly see him in the mirror. She looked all around, feeling silly as she swept the room looking for what? A ghost hiding in the corner? A spy looking through the window? Not finding anything out of place, she shook her head dismissing the feeling as exhaustion.

Shifting the fur to rest atop her shoulders, she took the pitcher which was deceptively heavy and began to pour water into the glass. The pitcher was noticeably heavy. Heavier than it ought to be. Again, she dismissed this because of muscle fatigue and focused on the task at hand. As she watched the water swirl and pool in the delicate crystal, she found herself transfixed by the light reflected through the liquid. The water and crystal seemed to sparkle as she watched it flow.

The light captured in the glass began to intensify until a particular point of light sparked so brightly that she winced, bumping the pitcher against the rim of the crystal which rang out musically. The sound which should have dissipated quickly did not. Much to her confoundment, the ringing grew louder and sharper in pitch until it pierced her ears and seeped into her teeth which she gritted against the shrill sound.

Confusion and fear rose amidst the ringing and abruptly she put the pitcher down with a thunk against the wood that sounded as loud as a tree splitting in a windstorm. Her stomach leapt at the sudden sound and she raised her free hand to instinctively push against an ear and the side of her head.

Just when she thought she could bear the ringing no longer, it ceased abruptly. Blinking and working her jaw against the clenching of her teeth, Byleth cautiously looked around the room again. Everything was peaceful but the feeling of being observed remained. Swallowing, she slowly readjusted the fur about her shoulders. Wary of her surroundings, she gripped the glass with both hands to hold against her chest as though it were some sort of shield or weapon.

Dimitri continued to sleep, blissfully unaware that anything unnatural had occurred. Certainly that had been a headache brought on by dehydration and lack of sleep. Still, she looked about as though she expected something to spring out at her as she raised the glass to her lips.

Before she could drink, her gaze settled on the surface of the water where the tiniest ripples were spreading across the surface. Small as they were, they caught the firelight along their peaks, moving like red silken threads.

As she watched, the ripples became more pronounced and the glass itself began to vibrate in her hand. No, not the glass, her hands were vibrating and causing the ripples within the glass. Her eyes widened at this and the sensation deepened into a low hum buzzing in the bones of her fingers. The sound was soft and deep, barely audible in the silence of the room but audible nonetheless. She could feel the vibrations spreading up her fingers, past her wrist and up her arms.

Powerless to stop its progression, she observed with mounting horror that the humming resonance spread through her chest, waves from her left and right arms crashing together where she knew her heart should be, where the crest stone was mounted within her rib cage. The vibration slowed but the humming continued to deepen until a thrum deep as a quake within the earth filled her, rattling every bone in her body, pushing against her skin. The echo chamber of her body reflected the waves back and the sound bounced forcefully within her, ricocheting up through her neck, straining against her ear drums.

The sudden crippling sensation wracked her breath from her body and she gasped as a piercing, splinter shot through her temples, forking to meet above her eyes on her forehead. The strength left her hands and the glass slipped from her grip to shatter on the floor. The dark seemed to close in on her vision as the pain pressed down into her eyes and as she turned to hold on to the table for support her eyes fell on the mirror.

She gasped loudly and icy fear shot through her limbs. Looking back at her was not her own image but that of a girl with flowing, wild green hair and a golden head piece. Her long ears peeked out from behind thick braids and the stern expression on her face did not match her youthful appearance. Her eyes were the most unsettling, green and deep, alight with judgement and fire.

"Byleth," the girl said in a sing-song voice that did not match the heat in the eyes which bored into her.

Byleth stumbled backward, nearly colliding with Dimitri who had awoken at the sound of shattering glass and vaulted from the bed behind her. She jumped again and shouted as he caught her, his hands steadying on her waist and shoulders. "Byleth, what's happening?" he asked, though she did not hear him.

The pain above her eyes had spread like a cap over her skull which throbbed as though it might explode or combust or both. Squeezing her eyes shut against the low, heavy vibration assailing her ear drums, she clutched at her head, doubling over. She was vaguely aware of his voice but could not discern what he said.

The world shifted around her and her feet left the floor. Dimitri had picked her up and was moving toward their bed. Her head lolled back and the mirror entered the periphery of her vision. What she had seen before was no longer there. All that remained was her head and legs visible on either side of Dimitri's body reflected as he carried her to their bed.

The soft mattress and pillows provided little comfort as she sank down into them but the deep humming that had produced the painful vibrations was fading. The sensation of Dimitri's hand on her face seemed far away. She could hear the sound of his voice calling her name but it sounded distant and muffled as though she were submerged in water. Concentrating on the sound of his voice and the warmth of his hands on her body, both touch and sound became clearer and the pain began to subside.

"Are you hurt? Tell me what is wrong!" he was saying, fear beginning to tinge his voice.

Her vision began to sharpen as she continued to focus on him. She tried to speak, to reassure him that she was alright but her tongue was sluggish and she coughed. Dimitri's face vanished from her field of vision for only a moment and then he was lifting her head to press a glass to her lips.

She drank and coughed again. The pain had faded into a low throb and she suddenly felt sleepy, so sleepy that she had to struggle to keep her eyes open. Again, she focused on Dimitri who was silently watching her with lips thin and forehead furrowed.

"Byleth," he said softly when she managed a slight smile. "Are you alright?"

She nodded hesitantly, wincing at the soreness that remained in her head and neck.

"What can I do? Should I call for the physician?"

"No," she said weakly. "I just need to rest." Her eyes were so heavy but she did not want to stop gazing at him until the worry evident there had been relieved.

"What happened?"

"I thought I saw…" she mumbled, her eyes slipping shut.

"What?" he asked, giving her a gentle shake at the shoulders.

Her eyes popped open only to sag shut again. "A girl… in the mirror…" her breathing became deep and even as she started to drift off to sleep. She could hear his voice again, calling her name as though from a vast distance.

"Hold me?" she asked lazily as the world faded into darkness. She felt his weight settled onto the bed next to her and the soft blankets wrap around her. Then his warm, supportive arm draped over her stomach before drawing her firmly against the length of his body. She nestled herself against him, sighing contentedly.

She let the vision in the mirror dissolve as her body relaxed, encased in warmth and supported by her lover and she drifted away to sleep and whatever dreams might come.