A/N: Any feedback on how the dialogue is written would be appreciated! It is not my forte.
Remembering the dumpling that remained in his hand, Dimitri took another bite into his snack. It had cooled down considerably, no longer scorching his mouth as he felt the soft meat beneath his teeth. He and Ingrid decided to approach Felix and Sylvain first - the two being the only of the Blue Lions in sight - and watched as the red-headed Margrave poked his partner in the ribs.
"If it isn't His Kingliness! And Ms. Galatea, the Knight of Blaiddyd!" Sylvain's personality was as big as ever.
"Shut up," was Ingrid's greeting to him.
"Whatever could've brought the boar and his puppet knight over to us?" And Felix's personality was as… unsavoury as ever. "Surely the King has bigger and better things to be doing tonight than talking to his subjects?"
Dimitri couldn't contain a smile. Felix bowed to nobody. That much hadn't changed. "It's good to see you too, Felix."
The Duke gave a contented nod of salutations towards him.
"Now, now, stop playing coy, you two. Should we be expecting your nuptials any time soon?" Ingrid smirked.
Felix's pale face grew red at once, brow contorting with rage. "What-!?" he spluttered, just as Sylvain laughed:
"You saw that?"
"Sylvain!" Felix hissed.
Something swelled in Dimitri's chest as he watched the two men bicker; they were utterly unchanged. Sylvain's eyes had lost some of their devilish gall to be replaced with a warm softness, and Felix had finally figured how to comb his hair stylishly, but their squabbling sent Dimitri's brain hurtling back to their academy days, watching Sylvain ruffle Felix's feathers after inevitably annoying him somehow. He felt himself crack a smile, and his chest bubbled over as a hearty laugh escaped his throat.
His joyous outburst hushed the two men at once. "What's gotten into you?" Sylvain smiled.
"Finally lost it," spat Felix.
"He's laughing at you, you clowns," Ingrid told them.
"You call us clowns when this jester over here hoots like a drunkard? I don't even know what's so funny." Felix frowned, raising an eyebrow as Dimitri dissolved into little chuckles.
"You two," he said at last. "Bickering. Why, I'd mistake you for an old married couple already!"
Felix's cheeks began to glow once again. "Say another word, Boar. I'll have your tongue for insolence."
"Are you forgetting who you're talking to? This is your king," Ingrid's voice was patronisingly slow. "Can you not see that, or are you too busy getting lost in Sylvain's eyes?"
The Duke of Fraldarius - evidently forgetting his title - lunged towards the woman, only to be grabbed by Sylvain. He made indignant squawks, trying to wrestle from the other man's grip, but Sylvain spoke over him. "Oh, yeah. You should hear the banal drivel he comes at me with."
"Sylvain-!" Felix warned.
"Like what!?" Ingrid cooed.
"Oh, Margrave Gautier, you make my life worth living-!" Sylvain began in a mocking tone, only to have his lover wrench free of his grasp and push him in the chest.
"In what world have I ever said that!?"
Watching the three friends chat so easily, getting wound up and sharing jokes like old times… Dimitri's heart began to pound a little harder, finally seeming to break from its icy confines. He'd almost dreaded seeing the faces of his friends upon hearing about the festival, collapsing into a worried mess in Dedue's arms while panicking about if he'd face backlash. Now he was here, though, everything felt right. It felt as though no time had passed - as though…
"Does…" he started, watching each face turn to him with varying expressions. "Does this not feel like old times?"
Ingrid cocked her head. "How do you mean?"
Dimitri inhaled. "This whole situation. Felix and Sylvain arguing, everybody laughing. I recall… our childhood. Outside my house, in Fhirdiad. It was snowing, but our families all met up for some meeting or another. Ingrid, I remember we stood upon the front steps, watching the carriages carrying Felix and Sylvain and their families through the gates."
"Of course," she said airily, eyes glazing over as she remembered. "My family got there early, because the King wanted to break his fast with my parents."
"Which time was this?" Felix grunted. "I remember a hundred days like that in our childhoods."
"The one where we each tried to make a snowman in the palace gardens," Dimitri remembered it fondly.
Sylvain grinned at once. "And we all got into a fight over whose was the biggest!"
"Oh, of course!" Ingrid beamed. "It was obviously mine!"
"Not true! Yours was only biggest because you stuck two big branches in its head!"
"Those were his horns! He was a snow-beast!"
"The deal was whose snow-creature was the biggest. If Ingrid's had horns, they should have counted," said Dimitri.
"Oh, get outta here, Your Highness," Sylvain dismissed him. "Yours was the shortest, anyway."
"And then we all started hitting each other," giggled Ingrid. "That turned into an all-out brawl."
Dimitri joined her laughter. "I remember getting one of your snow-beast's branches stuck in my hair, somehow!"
"Glenn broke us up," Felix said distantly, his face showing neither happiness, nor sadness.
His words cast a coldness over the conversation. Dimitri broke the silence. "Yes, he did. Told us to act like little lords and ladies and settle our differences politely." The words were bitter on his tongue. Glenn should have been there when all hell broke loose six years ago.
"I remember that too," Ingrid said, voice quiet. "I remember looking up at him, and seeing how kind he was. He pulled me off of you, Sylvain, but he wasn't rough, nor angry. I'd never really understood betrothal, but in that moment I knew… I knew I wouldn't mind marrying somebody like that."
"I remember he pulled me aside to tell me to throw snowballs at you, Fe," Sylvain smirked, bringing light into the dark conversation.
"That was him…?" One corner of Felix's lips curled upwards. "That jerk. All these years I've blamed you for ruining my velvet doublet."
Even childhood memories were tarnished by war. Glenn - once so tangible - was gone in a heartbeat. The merriment of a moment ago had been snatched away like a bird taking wing. Would there ever be happiness again, when some bloodshed or another would rear its ugly head over each reminiscence?
"Felix, Sylvain. I wanted to apologise." Dimitri said the words before he could stop himself.
The men gave him looks of confusion; Sylvain's curious - Felix's vexed. "What're you apologising for?" asked Sylvain.
Dimitri took a breath, saw Ingrid's nod of encouragement - and continued. "For the way I treated the both of you during the war. I was out of line."
"Congratulations for stating the obvious," Felix drawled. "You've already told us this."
"My previous apology feels empty," Dimitri said. "Now, I want to mean it. To tell you I'm sorry for putting you through all of that. For dragging you into the carnage, and being nothing more than a cad to you in return."
"Agh, stop it, Your Highness-" Sylvain waved a hand.
"Call me Dimitri. Please," the King insisted.
"You said you were sorry and you made it up to us. You won us the damn war! We know you're not who you were a year ago, anymore."
Dimitri nodded to him, grateful. Next, he simply looked at Felix.
The man rolled his eyes, and then began to smirk. "I will savour this moment for the rest of my life. The Boar Prince- no… The Boar King! Begging for my forgiveness."
"Ugh!" Ingrid spat. "Must you be so insufferable?"
"I'm hardly begging…" Dimitri gave a queasy smile.
Felix's eyes glowered at him, amber in the torchlight. "Then beg."
"Sylvain, how are you in love with this!?" asked Ingrid, incredulous.
Sylvain pressed his lips together. "It… He has his charms." Although he didn't look too sure.
"Will you forgive me?" Dimitri asked once more.
A playful smile danced upon the lips of Felix Fraldarius. "Yes." Then, he sighed. "Yes, Boar, I'll accept your apology. Despite the monster you once were, you've been a mighty king. And…" For a split second, he looked almost shy. "… a great friend."
"Aww!" Ingrid and Sylvain both approached him, Sylvain grabbing his waist while Ingrid pinched one of his cheeks.
"Get off me! You heard none of that."
But, Dimitri's mind was elsewhere. It was as if he were floating on air, such elation inside him that he almost got teary-eyed for the second time that night. Ingrid and Sylvain could forgive him to their heart's content, but it was Felix's absolution that meant the most to the King. Others may have simply complied to make him feel good - or to shut him up - but the Duke of Fraldarius was nobody's lapdog. When he was emotional, it was for a reason. And, when he had gracious words to give, they were sincere.
The words from Felix Hugo Fraldarius felt almost like an amnesty. Perhaps Dimitri really had vindicated himself with his victory, and his reign, and his apologies from a lifetime ago.
"Well, I should find the others. To apologise to them, too." Dimitri interrupted his companions' conversation.
"Awh, really?" Sylvain frowned. "You only just got here."
"Yeah, and I'm sure they've got lots to update us on," teased Ingrid. "When are houses Gautier and Fraldarius to be united?"
"I can't believe you let her see us," Felix growled at his partner. "I told you we weren't well-hidden!"
"I'm sick of hiding." Sylvain grabbed his hand, only for the Duke to wrest it free again. "Scaredy-cat."
Felix was indignant. "So be it."
"If you'd like to help me find the others, you're welcome to join me," said Dimitri, taking one final bite of dumpling before throwing the empty skewer into the sconce on the wall they stood by.
"We'd love to," Sylvain smiled.
"I know I saw Ashe by the archery contest earlier?" Ingrid suggested. "I didn't say hello, because… Well, I didn't want him shooting someone's eye out."
"Archery stall it is, then," said Dimitri.
"Ugh, archery," muttered Felix. "Why can't we go to the weapons stall instead?"
"Will you shut up about weapons for once?" Sylvain asked him.
Ingrid laughed. "Do I sense a divorce already?"
And the group began to walk together - just like old times.