What is he supposed to say to her?
What price can he possibly demand of her that will silence the screaming of the dead and the damned? That will satisfy Glenn, his father, stepmother… that will satisfy them and their desire for revenge? What can she give him that will replace his need for vengeance, for the one thing he has lived his life for- what she has lived her life for- and make it less empty? She has the Empire, he can demand she crush it, and thus everything she has built it upon, to ashes and be left with nothing. He can have her exiled, worthless in the eyes of all and eliminate her line permanently the way he nearly was by Cordelia.
He can ask for her life, but what good would it be to demand her life if she, like he himself, cares enough for it only to fulfill her end goal and die immediately after?
"I do not have an answer." Dimitri finally replies. "As much as I try, I cannot give you a price that fits the severity of your sins, of the betrayal and the hurt that you have caused."
He watches her grow still and close her eyes as though the sentence is death. Claude sucks in a sharp breath, green eyes snapping fire in preparation to argue against the decision. They believe he would condemn them all to the eternal flame rather than choose life. And, had it even been one day prior… that very well may have been his decision. A sacrifice he would have been more than willing to make, damn the consequences, and released his threadbare grip on life and sanity.
His voice is rougher than he would have liked and he wants the lump in his throat to leave him already. This is no time for emotion, for displays or paltry feelings. "That is not to say I have no thought on the matter, I will… I will have to consult with those left in the Kingdom to see what they desire from the Empire as payment for the blood you have shed."
Violet eyes snap open and, for a moment, he sees Edelgard as she was; a small, bossy brunette who loved to dance and the flash of fear when her uncle had called her to leave. She has white hair now. She's older and dressed in the same shade of red her hands, as well as his own, are permanently stained in.
"And for you?" The words are a whisper and they shatter something within him.
Dimitri removes the gauntlet and glove off of one hand. The damned thing seems to move of its own accord and withdraws the dagger, carefully maintained even to this day, from its place on his hip and offers it to her as he had so long ago. Claude tenses, Edelgard grows stiller as their eyes lock on the blue sheath and silver filigree. She looks from the dagger to him once more.
He can't hear what she says over the sound of the screaming and wailing of the dead, but the shape of her lips forms his name and ends in a question.
"Your life, Edelgard," he tells her. The thunder of his own heart adding to the chaos in his ears. ""If I must live with the voices, with the weight of the lives I have taken and the blood on my hands, so must you; death is a release for you, and so I condemn you, I sentence you to live and to forever remember what you have done to the people of Fodlan."
"You have to find a reason beyond revenge to live- even if that means giving up your revenge entirely. If you cannot do this, if you refuse…" He can't breathe. His lungs won't cooperate and he's unable to get air in or out. The world slips in and out of focus and his fingers feel numb and tingle all at once. What voice he has comes out harsh, choked.
"I will kill you here, now, and the consequences be damned."
"Dimi-"
"Choose, Edelgard; will you live even if it means giving up your revenge?"
He knows what he is asking of her and he needs her to make the decision. It's not just for her, it's for him as well. They are stuck on the same path from opposing sides. Two blood-soaked, broken people who have no business in the world of the living with how many sins weigh on their souls living only for the day they can take one another down and perish in return. If she can't do it, neither can he. She condemns them both and he will willingly take them both to the flames of hell where they both belong in an instant.
She removes her glove once again, puckered scars purple from the cold, and reaches out to place her hand on top of the sheathed dagger resting in his palm. Her eyes are tear-bright and threatening to overflow at any moment. Cheeks red from the effort to hold herself back and maintain control, she's taking the smallest, shallowest breaths she can to keep from bursting into tears in front of them. She can't. It's not something the Emperor of Adrestia can afford to do, not at such a crucial moment.
"I will live."
It's the hardest three words she's ever had to say in her life. Declaring war on the Church, threatening her beloved teacher, none of that was as difficult as taking an oath, the punishment that she will have to live and committing to it.
She blinks to clear the blur and feels two hot trails slide down her cheeks, leaving a chill in their wake. She can't see Dimitri's face through the haze, but his expression is not so different than her own and his eye is suspiciously bright too. Claude's hand settles on top of Edelgard's own. He'd removed his glove as well. He says nothing, and neither does Dimitri. It's a moment beyond words and none of them have any idea what they can possibly do aside from stare at their hands resting atop one another in silent agreement.
A fourth hand reaches between Edelgard and Dimitri and settles into place.
"My teacher…" Edelgard whispers.
"Professor." Dimitri can hardly choke the word out.
"Teach." Claude's voice is softer than any of them remember hearing.
Byleth holds their hands together, supporting them from above and below, and gives her wayward students one of her rare but genuine smiles.
Sleeping arrangements are awkward, given the cold and the lack of blankets between the four of them. Byleth has one, as does Claude. Dimitri and Edelgard have their cloaks. It's a frustrating struggle, but Byleth and Claude sew the edges of the blanket together, as well as the cloaks, to form something big enough for them all to fit beneath. Dimitri, as the tallest, forms something of the base as he sits against the wall with the fur draped over his shoulders and looks entirely uncomfortable with the fact that Byleth is between his legs, her back against his chest. On her right, tucked as closely as she can without actually climbing into Byleth and, to a lesser extent, Dimitri's body itself, is Edelgard. Claude is on her left and likewise tucked as close to both of them as possible.
Byleth carefully settles the blankets atop Claude, Edelgard, and herself- Dimitri's legs as well- and twists to make sure her coat, as well as the furs and the three cloaks were sewn together, are tucked around Dimitri's shoulders to keep him warm in return. Dimitri has a difficult time looking at her, at any of them, and she doesn't press him on what goes through his mind.
He had no reason to trust Claude or Edelgard, especially the latter, and he chose to be reckless at exactly the right moment.
She has one arm wrapped around Edelgard's waist, holding her close as the last of the damp places from the Emperor's cheek against her chest dries up. The other is wrapped around Claude's as well and his head rests against her shoulder. He's dozing, not completely asleep and still awake enough she could goad him into speaking if she so wishes. She tilts her head up to try and see Dimitri's face.
Byleth leans back a little, twice in short succession, to get his attention. His lone eye looks down at her and she gives him a brief, understanding nod and smile before she leaned her back fully into his chest. He freezes, as she anticipates he would, and his arms slowly move to slide around her waist. After a moment of hesitation, Dimitri opts to pull her closer. When she doesn't move or comment, something in him relaxes just a little and his head lowers, chin resting on top of her head and lingers.
His arms stay wrapped around her, anchoring himself in the present. He knows the moment Byleth drifts off to sleep and Claude's doze turns into a full, exhausted slumber. Edelgard has been deep asleep for the last thirty minutes or so, having quietly wept herself into slumber against the Professor's chest earlier. He focuses on trying to drown out the screams he still hears with the sound of Byleth and Claude's deep, even breathing, the scent of Byleth's hair, and the warmth of three bodies pressed against his own.
I do not know for whom or what I now live for any better than Edelgard does. She sentenced us to live a life of penance, to continue to live where death would be most welcome. Dimitri thinks to himself and catches the faintest shudder of breath from the woman in question. So now we both must live, and find what there is worth living for now that revenge is no longer a complete option.
That answer is one they will be forced to find, together, and he finds it strangely comforting that the Professor and Claude will be there to watch over them both in the process.