Author's Note: This chapter let me cover some general post-war stuff that I thought was important to bring up. And it'll all be referenced later, too, so it's not just filler. Plus, the start of something for Dedue that'll come up a couple more times, too, so fun stuff all around.

Chapter Three: Processes and Changes

Dimitri hadn't expected this to be easy, but it was only a few days after he'd returned home, and he was utterly swamped.

There had been much celebrating across Fhirdiad—no, all of Faerghus—after he'd called the city together to make the announcement that the war was over. And that had been a huge boost to his own morale. Immediately afterwards, though, Dimitri's work had truly begun.

There had already been several meetings discussing what to do with Faerghus's current state, never mind everything else. House Fraldarius had been hastily passed to Rodrigue's brother; at least someone in the family had survived, and his youngest child bore a minor Crest. He'd accepted the role surprisingly well, but he needed some help from the crown to get the house back on its feet. They lost much during the war, and Dimitri could understand the new Duke's grief over burying family members all too well.

Houses Galatea and Gautier hadn't been quite as lucky. Galatea had already been on shaky footing, and losing Ingrid had been a huge personal blow to the count. His next oldest child could inherit the house, but they were just as poor as ever and needed even more help than they had before.

Meanwhile, Margrave Gautier was scrambling to find an heir. He and his wife were just young enough that producing another child would be possible, but what would they do if they couldn't conceive another Crest-bearing heir? Maybe if they were lucky, one of their sons had left behind a child somewhere, and they were considering sending out search parties for that purpose.

Dimitri clutched his quill a bit too tightly as he read over the documents in front of him, and it snapped in his grip. Oops—he hadn't managed to curb his habit of accidentally breaking things. Still, as much as he disliked Faerghus's over-reliance on Crests, Dimitri knew they needed some sense of stability right now. And if clinging to the old system helped, then he could worry about changing things later. It didn't make the whole thing any less frustrating, though.

He shook his head, trying to concentrate. Felix, Ingrid, and Sylvain's faces often flashed through his mind, silent yet present. Dimitri had quelled most of his old nightmares surprisingly well when he had other things to focus on, and he had to stay busy now more than ever. It was the only way to keep his friends from haunting him.

Sighing, Dimitri reached for another quill as he re-read the request in front of him. The Alliance needed help pulling the remaining Empire troops out of their borders. That wouldn't be too hard, he thought. Most of the Alliance was under Bergliez rule, and Dimitri doubted the current Count was in any position to object. He'd lost his step-brother and most of the troops he'd donated to the front lines during the war, and he'd barely gotten his younger son back in one piece. It would likely only take a few Kingdom soldiers as "persuasion" to make him back out.

Dimitri hastily penned a reply agreeing to send help, though he frowned as he sealed the letter. He wasn't sure what would happen to the Alliance next; Claude had mysteriously disappeared, or so he'd heard, and no one knew where he'd went. They'd have to pick a new Roundtable leader, and several Alliance houses were still stinging from the invasion. Daphnel and Ordelia were almost in shambles; House Daphnel had managed to scrounge up a distant relative as a quick solution, but the Ordelias weren't even that lucky. The Gonerils had also taken heavy losses, and they were reluctant to thrust their grieving son into an even bigger leadership role. Gloucester and Edmund were really the only houses in any position to take up the mantle.

Dimitri didn't want to interfere in their governing affairs too much, so he'd held off on making any direct suggestions. He'd do his best to help if they asked for it, but…for now, all he could do was spare a few troops as needed. The rest would have to come later.

The Central Church was handling things surprisingly well. Dimitri turned his attention to the letter he'd received that morning. They'd informed him that they were going through their Cardinals, hoping to select one to take up the Archbishop's role. Ideally, Seteth or even Flayn would've made fine replacements, but…both of them had vanished during the war, too. At any rate, they had primarily informed him that the process was going well, and then asked if he wanted to attend the ceremony once they'd finished. He quickly wrote out his regards and agreement, sealed that letter as well, and then turned to the massive pile of documents pertaining to the Empire.

This would be…considerably more difficult. There were no other heirs to the throne besides Edelgard—her limp body and slack face suddenly flashed in his mind, and it was harder for Dimitri to shake the image. He'd killed her; he'd killed his sister—

Dimitri took a deep breath, resting his face in his hands for several long minutes. He'd needed to do it; there was no other option. His kingdom wouldn't have survived otherwise. It was the only way.

Despite the practical arguments, it took a while for Dimitri to recompose himself. He took another, shakier breath as he opened his eyes. Don't think about that, he told himself sternly. Just focus on the matters at hand.

There were a few Imperial houses in decent condition, at least. Houses Aegir, Varley, and Hevring had taken few losses during the war. Gerth was also doing well, from what Dimitri currently knew. Hrym was in an even bigger state of chaos than they had before, though. Meanwhile, the previous Marquis Vestra had died shortly before the war broke out, and his son was dead now, too.

And Arundel…Dimitri frowned as his attention slid to another notice he'd received from the Alliance. Lord Arundel had apparently collected several of Leicester's Relic Weapons, and they were requesting Dimitri's help in getting them back. What was his uncle planning…?

Dimitri knew that was something he'd have to deal with eventually, but they had to focus on rebuilding first. Then there was the matter of what to do with the Empire territories. Hrym had tried to join with the Alliance once before; maybe it would be possible to convince other houses to join Faerghus and Leicester, and split their lands between them…

Dimitri shook his head again. This was too much to deal with right now. He'd send replies to the Alliance houses about their Relics later; he was sympathetic, but he'd hold off on the actual retrieval until both countries were more stable. Yes, that was it.

For now, he needed to get up. Dimitri had been working for hours, and he was getting stiff. Besides…there was something else he needed to check on today. Something very important.

Dimitri reached for the remnants of the pastry he'd been eating earlier. Mercedes had baked a batch of them the other day, knowing he'd be too busy to take meals at a consistent time. He knew it was an unhealthy habit, but…well…hopefully things would slow down soon, and then he'd be able to change that.

He appreciated her concern and foresight, though, Dimitri thought as he stood up. Otherwise, he probably wouldn't have eaten at all over the past few days… Besides, there wasn't much of a point in eating if he couldn't do it with Dedue.

Dimitri shook his head again as he stepped out into the hallway. He felt ridiculous for it, and he knew Dedue wouldn't want him to skip meals… Dedue had already pressed him enough about how little sleep he usually got; Dimitri didn't need to add a lack of food to the list, too.

But…while he had ordered food be delivered to Dedue at regular intervals, he hadn't been able to let Dedue out of his quarters. Word had quickly spread about Dedue's…changes, so to speak, and people still whispered in the hallways about it. Dimitri hated it; many of the staff had already said such awful things about Dedue when he'd first arrived there years ago. Hadn't they learned not to do that yet? Weren't they better than that by now?

Well, he supposed some of them were at least…less vocal with their discomfort than others were. Most of the gardeners and cooks, who'd grown to like Dedue, had kept their mouths shut on the matter. Dimitri appreciated it, but the people who made commentary on the situation seemed so much louder that it was hard to remember that sometimes.

"I heard His Majesty lets it stay in a bedchamber and everything," he'd heard one of the guards say the night before. "Like it's still—"

"Like he is still what?" Dimitri had replied, rounding the corner at exactly the right moment to interrupt the conversation. "I'll have you know that Dedue is just as much my guest as he ever was, and if you have a problem with it, you don't have to stay here."

The implication wasn't lost on the man; his eyes widened as it settled in. His companion, a young, newly-stationed woman, had shot the man a look indicating she thought he was an idiot. Whether it was because of his words or simply because he should've watched his surroundings better, Dimitri wasn't sure, but he'd taken it as the former anyway.

"Your Majesty! I, ah…" he floundered.

"If I ever hear anything like that again, you will leave. Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes, sir!"

The man had bowed deeply before scrambling away. His partner had simply groaned before bowing to Dimitri and striding after him. Even now, the conversation rang in his head; Dimitri honestly should've fired the man, but he hadn't wanted to let his temper get the best of him. Perhaps he should have, really.

Well, at least Dimitri reached Dedue's quarters quickly enough. He paused, hand halfway poised to knock; maybe it was a silly gesture, but he couldn't help doing it anyway. There was a sound inside, though, something like shattering glass… Dimitri decided to shove politeness aside for the moment, flinging the doors open immediately.

The room was a complete disaster, to put it mildly. Most of the furniture was broken; some had been completely splintered. The desk and vanity off to the left side had suffered the worst, but the shelves had been knocked on their sides and damaged to various degrees as well. The only thing that hadn't been torn apart yet was the bed, but Dedue probably just hadn't gotten to that yet.

Speaking of which, Dedue himself was at the window, and giant shards of glass were scattered around him. That must've been what Dimitri heard earlier: Dedue smashing the window to bits. For a moment, Dedue sat there in silence, and there was something a little sad about the scene. Dimitri hated the fact that Dedue was essentially locked up in a cage; maybe having some fresh air felt nice to him.

Maybe he'd just broken everything else because he was bored and needed something to do. It was as good an explanation as any, and Dimitri liked it better than thinking Dedue was lashing out because he couldn't think straight anymore. (No, he refused to acknowledge the thought. It was too awful.) And, in that case…

"Dedue," he said hesitantly. "I'm back. Would you like to go out and do something today?"

Dimitri knew it was mad to let Dedue out without precautions. But an idea was quickly whirring in his mind, one that would probably help in several ways. He carefully stepped around the pile of shattered dinnerware near the entrance, which solidified his idea further.

Fortunately, Dedue heard him. Unfortunately, he was still almost completely non-vocal. His only response was to crane his enormous head around and growl in acknowledgement. It was hard to tell what that meant, but Dimitri wanted to try.

"Would you like to go hunting today, Dedue? I'm sure you're hungry, and I'd like you to get some fresh air."

It served multiple purposes, really. The portions of food Dedue had been given were all, well…human-sized. Demonic Beasts probably needed more than that, didn't they? Honestly, Dimitri was almost surprised Dedue hadn't tried to eat the plates after cleaning them. Besides, maybe it would give him a way to burn off some energy that would result in less destructive things when he was at the castle.

Dedue slowly turned away from him again, gaze focused on something outside. Dimitri took a shaky breath, wondering if this meant he'd decided against the idea. However, Dedue lumbered to his feet, hunching to avoid scraping the ceiling as he peered down at Dimitri.

Well, at least he had Dedue's attention, and he would take that.

"Follow me, Dedue. We're going out today."

…Well, direct orders apparently worked fine. Dedue's thudding footsteps echoed after him as Dimitri left the room. He'd keep that information tucked in the back of his mind; hopefully it'd remain useful.

For now, Dimitri would take what he could get, and he let himself be satisfied at the notion of giving Dedue some taste of freedom.