By the third year after the war, Dimitri had charged fully into the reformation of the Kingdom to accommodate for the reparation and adoption of Duscur culture, heritage, and history. It had been a series of demanding tasks, one that needed many encouraging speeches as if the people of Fódlan were children needing to be coaxed into eating vegetables. But Dimitri never once backed down, taking it all in stride and guiding them with the now gentle and steady hand of the kingly role he had matured to adopt. At his coronation, Dedue wept for the better future he had been promised for so long. After the ceremony, Dimitri found him and embraced him; royal, formal garb against traditional Duscur robes.

Dedue had guided his every step in drafting the documents, in choosing the qualities and the traditions from his homeland to express with the belief that they would capture the hearts of the people. He was tentative in all of it, but above all, he trusted Dimitri to achieve what he himself could not, as long as the necessary tools were provided.

And he did. Little by little, the people conceded to opening the northern border back and calling that land "Duscur" once again. The day the decree had been signed, Dedue wept privately in his office. Dimitri had soon come to his side, reading it once more to him in a voice as tender as his touch. The King took his hand to remind him of his promise, to ensure that it would come to pass.

Since then, Dedue had been bestowed the title of Ambassador, spearheading the communications with the remaining people of Duscur, finding them and inviting them to join in the new era of harmony and value. They were just as apprehensive, wary of the new declaration, but with Dedue there on his own, speaking his regard for the King with his own words and not a pledge of fidelity, they trusted him. They saw a man of their own past now risen to a position of trust and power before them in this new country, and they steadily began to rise and show their pride once again. The pride of Duscur that had been wounded, but not lost, was stoked and on display, with art and celebration and diplomacy. Stories began to circulate throughout Fódlan, legends from Duscur that carried beautiful meanings, and they steadily grew to be told among the changing continent. When Dedue was first embraced by the village elder who had saved his life years ago, he wept again. Dimitri was at his side to show his support, his honesty and sincerity to the people. They believed him.

It was the third day of the Garland Moon when guards came to Dimitri's office, interrupting his finishing of a letter to accompany gifts to Gautier territory in time for Sylvain's birthday - which was going to be late, unfortunately, due to other documents having been more pressing. It was at the interruption and opening of his office door to which he looked up through the bangs that had freed themselves from his hair tie. The two armoured men glanced at each other, as if deciding which was going to deliver their message.

"Well?" The King spoke in their place, raising a brow expectantly and standing. "What requires my attention?"

One of the guards finally squared his shoulders, raising his chin to speak up. "Your Majesty… there are two women from Duscur at the entrance to the palace. They requested an audience."

Expression softening, Dimitri tilted his head. "Why did you not allow them in? I am attempting to change the policy so that my people may find comfort in seeking an audience with me. I would think you would abide by that."

The second guard interjected before the first could continue. "The audience was not requested with you, Your Majesty. It was with the Ambassador. They said they knew him. We… We just weren't certain whether to allow them into the palace or not."

Dimitri narrowed his eye, a disappointed sigh escaping his lips. "You do not trust them, because they are of Duscur? You do not trust them to see the Ambassador to their territory?"

The guards froze, stammering in a denial that betrayed their apprehension. The King frowned at them and they quieted, and then Dimitri sighed once more, understanding but hoping that those who served him would by now know better. Change came slowly, and it was to be expected, but he strove to eliminate this doubt among the people of Fódlan. It seemed to remain to take root in some, but that just demonstrated that there was yet still more to be done.

He pushed aside the letter in progress and walked around the desk, crossing the room and whisking past the guards easily. "It would not do well for the face of the King to keep them waiting much longer. I will go greet them myself."

"Your Majesty-"

"You have done enough. Go inform Dedue, send him to the throne room." Dimitri said stiffly, already down the corridor and turning to descend the stairs. He passed a painting in the hall, himself on the throne and Dedue at his side, hand placed on his shoulder. Dimitri would never let that hand leave him, and refused to let others believe he would imagine letting it go.

Dedue heard voices coming from the throne room as he approached it, eyes still examining a document as he entered. One was clearly Dimitri's, but the others sounded familiar. He was just beginning to place them when the voices fell silent, and the Ambassador took this time to look up.

His eyes widened when he saw the women before him. He recognised them instantly, despite their apparent change in age; from the familiar curve of his own nose mirrored on their faces, to the kind eyes that they both shared with someone he had nearly forgotten. Strong in stature, one great in height, he knew them. He knew these women.

His breath rushed from his lungs, mind stopping from the sudden lack of oxygen, even as those sea green eyes all stared back at him. He stood stiff, despite the deep urge to reach out for something to hold on to. Never had he felt so much doubt crashing into every part of his being at once; doubt before his eyes, for the reality of this moment, for the fate that had twisted to have it be all seeped into his muscles and made them weak.

Dedue extended an arm, hand searching for something, anything to grasp on to. What he felt instead was the full weight of the two women suddenly embracing him, bringing him back to his feet and grounding him so that he may not stumble. His arms quickly wrapped around them – them, for they were truly here – clinging to them - to keep them safe, close, and to keep himself from falling away. It was hard to believe that any of it was real, and yet here it stood, concrete and firm in his hold.

The great Ambassador began to shake, shoulders and knees trembling as if boneless, the women he held supporting him now. The King watched from only a few paces away as he began to cry, tears falling large and heavy into the matching snowy hair of the two girls. He recognised them now as Dedue's sisters, those they had believed had been lost in the tragedy almost thirteen years ago now. Dedue clung to them as he sobbed, disbelieving emotion tearing forth from his chest and voice.

Dimitri's heart clenched painfully, aching and yet so happy for Dedue as he watched the reunited family bawl in each other's arms. It was so exposed, so vulnerable and unlike the commonplace, stoic side of Dedue. The King was one of the very few who had ever seen this unrestrained reaction, and it warmed his heart and broke it all the same. For how long had the tears for this purpose been bottled up? Thirteen. Thirteen years, and Dimitri had been able to do nothing for it. It was such a catharsis to see them flowing freely.

Dimitri walked to them, hand falling lightly to rest on Dedue's shoulder, a reverse image of the painting upstairs in the great hall. The King squeezed, telling him it was alright. Assuring him that his sisters were there, that they were real and that it was all okay. Everything would be okay from here on out. Dedue whimpered softly through his sobs, one hand rising to meet Dimitri's.

"Dedue… will you introduce me to your family?"

Moments passed until the girls pulled away, the shorter of the two, with long hair tied up with a string and a ribbon, pressing her hand to Dedue's cheek. She wiped his tears and reached into her pocket for a handkerchief, her hand bumping into Dimitri's as he offered the same. The girl and the King met eyes, and Dimitri saw in them depths of kindness that he had seen before in Dedue's. He withdrew his hand so that her brother may accept her token.

Dedue wiped his eyes with the cloth before blowing his nose, sniffling and folding it carefully afterwards. His eyes, puffy and red-rimmed, remained on his sisters as he spoke. "This is my older sister, Taryn." He gestured to the shorter girl with the cascading ponytail of identical white hair, who smiled at Dimitri brightly, before he put a hand on the shoulder of the taller girl, her height equal to that of the King's. Her hair was close-cut and her brow was firm, but her eyes were bright and grateful. "And this is my younger sibling, Wister."

"It is nothing short of a pleasure to meet you both." Dimitri clasped a hand over his heart and bowed to the women, before turning his gaze to Dedue, a powerful man made soft in this moment. Dimitri wanted to embrace him, but thought fit to leave that responsibility to his sisters for now. Instead he smiled kindly at them all, never prouder of Dedue and himself for all they had fought for, all they had been through.

Dedue continued to hold them at arm's length when he spoke, his voice now rough with emotion. "How did you survive? Are our parents…?" He trailed off, unable to finish the question.

Taryn shook her head sadly, and Dedue nodded in understanding. He had not allowed himself to hope for more. "When the fire began in our home, Wister and I managed to escape out the linen windows, where mother would hang the laundry… We fled to the sea, even though the water was freezing. They did not expect us to go out that far."

"Did you grow ill?" Dedue frowned slightly, but listened with held breath to their recollection.

Wister spoke next, her voice quiet, smooth. It was lower than anticipated, but rich in a careful and steady sense, much like her brother's. "We did. We floated with the tide until we got to an upwards coast past where the soldiers had been. From there, it is hard to remember exactly how we survived. We simply kept on the road, travelling as we could until we found other refugees."

"We assumed you had been lost in the massacre…" Taryn finished solemnly, her hand rising to cup Dedue's cheek once more. Dedue closed his eyes, trembling again and seeming so small in this moment. Dimitri reached out and took his hand; the girls watched this movement, and approved when Dedue squeezed back affectionately, thankfully.

The King addressed the women next, observing them evenly. "But when you heard of the King's Ambassador being a man from Duscur, by the name Molinaro… It was the name that matched your own. You knew it was him. It had to be."

They both nodded, and Dedue silently rejoiced that the decree had been made public in both nations; information, history, everything was spread by word and account in Duscur. That had not changed, and it was beautiful. And it had reached his family, and brought them back to him; the power of word had brought them back together, and he was eternally grateful for Dimitri's powerful voice that had carried and commanded the speech to the people.

Wister sighed softly, pensively and in relief. "We came to the palace, at last we finally could. And Dedue… Big Brother. This is where you are." She reached out to him, her hand resting gently on the back of his neck as she touched their foreheads to one another. She spoke without moving then, her eyes remaining closed. "King Dimitri… thank you for being so kind to our brother. Thank you for being there for him, through all that he has borne."

Dimitri nodded in gratitude of his own, his heart once again swelling painfully as he witnessed the treasured family before him. Resolved blossomed in his heart, vowing to protect them all eternally. They would never fear of losing one another again. "If I could change what I had done, I would have done nothing differently but love him more. He is the most valuable man in my life."

"And in ours." Taryn moved in, slipping an arm under Dimitri's so that he may continue clasping Dedue's hand even as she went back to embrace him. Dimitri was caught in the middle, marvelling at the strength that the eldest Molinaro girl bore. He mirrored the gesture, free hand nestling into the curve of her shoulders as he held her close as well.

They remained in silence, and Dimitri felt something different. Something sweeter, better, more peaceful and whole. He asked gently, breaking the moment of repose but not the tightness of the four's hold on each other. "In which rooms would you like to stay, Taryn and Wister?" He smiled at the feeling of being able to say their names, hearing them in his own voice for the first time ever. He had not learned them until today.

Dedue looked at Dimitri, expression stunned and cheeks pink with adoration for his King. "Dimitri… can they stay?"

"Dedue, you have waited thirteen years for this moment." Dimitri did not know how he could hold him closer, how he could share more with him, but he wanted to. Desperately, how he wanted now to make this sudden dream – of having them be his sisters as well – real. "This is your family, and you are my family. By extent, I hope they will be regarded as my own, too." He nodded towards the girls, and saw tears well in Dedue's eyes. He tilted his chin down to kiss them away. "This is exactly what I have been searching for, this peace that I want to bring forth…"

"You are lovers with the King?" Wister interjected, a grin now on her face. "Awkward, shy Big Brother Dedue? This is wonderful, I'm proud." She clapped him on the back, and Dedue laughed, his arm moving to wrap around Dimitri's waist. Full, rich, echoic in the throne room, the sound of it filled the spirits of the three who embraced him.

After years apart, the family grew closer than ever through the union of the King and the Ambassador. They included Dimitri as their new brother, the man who had brought them this reunion, and yet that man himself was more grateful to them than they could ever understand. They allowed him to share the man he loved, and gave him the opportunity of seeing Dedue happier than he ever could have made him alone. It was a gift, one that would keep giving every day. Every day of peace, of reform, and every day of challenge made every action worth it for the newfound, united royal family.