He hadn't been expecting to see her in the stables. He hadn't really been expecting to see her anywhere.
The horse she was holding the apple up for was Sir Jeralt's. Now that he thought about it, Dimitri faintly remembered seeing Sylvain dismount from his horse and taking charge of Sir Jeralt's along with his own while Dimitri had been too occupied with the Professor to do so. He and Dedue had to practically tear her away from her father's side so they could bring him back to the monastery for burial.
Seeing her cry had been a knife to the heart. She'd been so utterly emotionless when they met, slowly opening up to him and the Blue Lions, slowly learning to express herself as she experienced each emotion as though she was feeling them for the first time. If the first time he saw her smile, so honest and sincere, had been one of the best days in his life, then seeing her cry like that had been… had been…
"Dimitri," she spoke his name with only the smallest flicker of surprise. Her eyes were red, he noticed. Seeing evidence that she must've been crying behind closed doors again made his blood boil. His inner darkness once again demanded that he hunt down and punish those who were responsible for her tears, but he ignored it, knowing this was not his vengeance to take.
All he could do now was to be that pillar of support he knew he needed to be. He was the leader of their house, so it was his responsibility to stay strong for their sakes. For her and for all of the Blue Lions after they were so shaken by the sudden tragedy. For however long they needed to simply stop and grieve.
She didn't need as much time as he'd been expecting. Not that he should be surprised; she was a far stronger person than he was. But even though she returned to them, it was clear that there was still a part of her that was locked away in grief. No one could claim that her grief was a hindrance to her performance as a professor, but there was an aura of melancholy about her, one even she could not fully hide behind a mask of stoicism.
"You…" She sounded so tired. " You're not on duty today."
"I know." He had noticed that she had not assigned anyone to stable duty this week, a strange occurrence, given how many of her students were eager to work with horses and improve their riding skills and how often she went out of her way to accommodate them. It seems he just walked in on the reason why. "I thought to take a reprieve from my lance practice," he explained. It wasn't a lie. Not really. All that training would serve no purpose if he could not stop the enemy from getting away… "But I can come back later."
If she noticed the half-lie, she did not comment on it. "No, it's alright. I was just about to take him out myself, so if you don't mind our company…"
How could he possibly mind her company? Dimitri smiled softly and took a leaf out of Dedue's book. "If anyone asks, I requested additional guidance on my riding techniques."
This quip earned him a small smile in return. A brief upward flicker of the corner of her lip that could barely be called a smile. "That is uncharacteristically devious of you," she said, no doubt likewise remembering the day the Blue Lions had snuck out of the monastery to follow her to the Red Canyon. "I do not believe it would be necessary." Jeralt's gelding pulled back to muss with her bangs with his mouth.
She took a step back and reached into the pouch by her side. Taking out a second apple, she turned it once in her hand before tossing it his way.
Catching her gift in both hands, Dimitri supposed if she was responding to his half-hearted attempts at joke-telling with her own, she must be feeling a little better. It was a small comfort to say the least.
His professor waited for him to pick a steed of his own, a black Faerghus-bred mare he had come to favor as she one of the few horses in Garreg Mach's stables who didn't make a fuss if he suddenly broke a training lance while on her back - before leading their horses out of the stables.
Dimitri looked up. He has known much better weather for leisurely rides at Garreg Mach, but ever since that sudden downpour on the day of their last mission, the sky has been perpetually overcast, as though the goddess herself knew of his professor's loss and was mourning Sir Jeralt alongside her.
Mourning she may have been, but it was clear she has been keeping up with the ongoings of the monastery. With the majority of Knights of Seiros still out searching for the enemy, the ones that remained were being stretched thin to protect the monastery. No doubt as concerned about security as he was, she ended up leading him to one of the less patrolled routes of the grounds.
Dimitri had not been expecting conversation. There was nothing that calmed his tempestuous mind like the steady, familiar rhythm of hooves against the earth, however temporary a respite it ultimately was, but ten minutes in she surprised him by saying, "When I was a baby, my father would take me out on horseback."
He blinked. "When you were a baby?" he asked. He did not know the first thing about childcare, but wasn't that a bit… risky? What if she had gotten sick or hurt?
"I never cried as a baby, but apparently, I still knew how to make a fuss when I wanted to. When I couldn't sleep or when I didn't want to, he would just bundle me up in my blankets and ride around in circles until I did. The other mercenaries liked to joke about what a demanding princess I was."
An unexpected warmth filled him as he pictured the scene she described. Sir Jeralt may not have been a man of many words, but it had always been clear to Dimitri how much he loved his daughter. Although watching them had always been a little painful, to be honest. His father's ghost was never closer when he saw the two of them together.
At the very least, Dimitri hoped that her father would be a kinder ghost than the late King Lambert.
"He told you this?"
She shook her head. "Wrote about it," she explained. "His diary. I've been reading it, little by little. It's like I can still hear his voice when..." She turned away, raising a hand up to her face. "He wrote about a lot. Me. My mother. Things I never thought to ask him about before. It's like he's speaking to me from beyond the grave."
"Professor…" He wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold her, but doing such a thing even if he had the courage to do so, would be rather awkward given the fact that they were both on horseback.
She cleared her throat, at little too loudly to be casual. "You've shared much of your childhood with me," she said, "I only wished to do the same in return, even if it's not much."
"What was it like, if I may ask?" Dimitri ventured, his curiosity piqued. "Being raised by a band of mercenaries?"
"Hm…" If she did not have a set of reins to hold onto, he knew she would have propped her elbow up in one palm as she held her cheek in the other. "Rootless," she decided. "We were always moving from place to place, camping out in fields and forests as often as we stayed in towns, but… there was never a dull moment.
"There was a core group we worked with, but others came and went as we did. I'd watch them train when I was too young to accompany them to battle. I guess you could say they were all sort-of my teachers, whether they meant to be or not."
He smiled. "How fortunate you were, to learn from people from all over Fódlan." And how fortunate the Blue Lions were, to learn from her.
"I suppose I was." She ducked her head just in time to avoid a low-hanging branch. "Careful, Dimitri."
Merely ducking as she did was not enough to spare him from getting hit by the same branch. Dimitri reached up to pick the leaf off his hair and he saw her watching him with that stoic expression he has come to know so well. Well enough to know there was some other emotion beneath it.
Amusement, perhaps? He was half-expecting her to tease him again, but she just said, "I'm glad I chose you."
If he had been walking, he most definitely would have tripped over something. Most likely his own feet. "M-Me?"
"The Blue Lions."
"Oh."
Of course that was what she meant. Dimitri mentally scolded himself for letting his feelings get the better of him. Just because she had humored him and accompanied him to the Goddess Tower the night of the ball didn't mean his schoolboy crush was anything more than that. And legends were legends, nothing else. As if someone like her could ever…
"I'm glad you chose us too," he admitted as he buried his stupid, selfish desires down. Crown Prince of Faerghus he may be, there was no future he could offer her, not when his lance was pledged to those who died four years ago.
But even though his life was not his own, even if it meant he had traded one hopeless love for another, he could never regret meeting her. If not for his sake, then certainly for the sake of the Blue Lions. "No matter what enemies we are facing, I'm honored to be facing them with you."
"Enemies…" Her shoulders stiffened as her voice frosted over. "I didn't really understand your reasons for enrolling in the Officer's Academy before, but I do now. I understand it now. They can't get away with this, Dimitri. The people who killed your family… I'll help you find them. Every last one."
Something about her declaration was absolutely thrilling. He'd been making steady progress on his own, but with her by his side, he knew what he wanted, what he owed to the dead, was not only an absolute certainty, but just within arm's reach. Do you hear that, Father? Stepmother? Glenn? he thought gleefully. You'll be able to rest soon. Once they're… Once they're all…
All of a sudden, as though someone was holding the Flame Emperor's dagger to his throat, Dimitri's excitement drained as quickly as it had come. Swallowing, all he could say was, "One thing at a time, Professor." I won't hold you to a pledge made in grief.
"Yes, you're right." Her expression was pensive. "One thing at a time."
He dearly wished to confide in her what he suspected of the Flame Emperor's identity and ask for her counsel as to what he should do, but he held his tongue. She had enough to worry about, he reasoned, even as he knew it was simply because he was too much of a coward to face what he feared was the truth.
"Dimitri?"
She had stopped, leaning slightly on her saddle to pull his horse to a halt as well, stroking her ebony neck and soothing her with soft words. Though her words gestures were directed towards his steed, her dark blue eyes were on him.
"You're putting too much pressure on the reins," she said in what he and his classmates affectionately referred to as her 'teacher voice'. "She's a smart creature. If she feels your anxiety, he'll become anxious as well and that will make it more difficult for you to command her."
"I…" He loosened his grip, not realizing how tightly he was winding the strips of leather in his hands until now. It was a miracle they were still in one piece. "I know." It was one of the first things he learned about horses, but he didn't begrudge her for assuming with the way he was acting.
"Dimitri…" She said his name as gently as she would a lover's. "Is there something on your mind? You've been… distracted."
He immediately felt guilty. "Nothing to worry about," he found himself saying, "I won't let you down again, Professor. I swear it."
"We're mercenaries. There was always a possibility that something might go wrong on a job." She sounded so sensible and pragmatic he almost missed the sadness in her voice. "You never let me down, Dimitri. Not once. You… Your performance was flawless out there. We were able to save those students because of you. That was all I could ask for. Really."
He gritted his teeth. She shouldn't be the one comforting him. For once, he wanted to be the one to support her and be there for her after all the times she had listened to and helped him. It only went to show how utterly worthless he was to her off the battlefield. "Thank you." I only wish I had been able to do more. "My success was only possible because of your guidance."
"You give me far too much credit and not enough to yourself," she said. There was an edge of fondness in her voice - Or so he hoped. Maybe he had simply heard what he wanted to - as she nudged her horse back into a walk. "I daresay your own diligence and hard work had more than a little to do with your success."
"Should we split even?" Dimitri asked as he followed suit. He had not meant to tease, but it had come out sounding that way regardless.
"Or perhaps..." For a moment he was utterly blinded by the smile she sent his way. The first true smile he's seen from her since Jeralt died. "We're almost back at the monastery. Shall we settle it with a race?"
"I won't hold back. Not even against you."
"Then neither will I."
Neck and neck they galloped along the path, the trees and grass a sea of green in his vision. His troubles for once all the fear and all the tragedy coming second in his mind as he committed himself to securing this victory. What a silly, nonsensical thing to take so seriously, he thought, but with her by his side, how could he not try to savor a taste of the innocence he had not known since he was a child.
But his childhood innocence had been put to the sword four years ago. This indulgence was little more than a phantom of what once was.
She was still smiling when she dismounted, giving her father's steed a pat before pressing her cheek against the gelding's forehead. "Good boy," she cooed. Dimitri felt his heart aching.
"Shall we call it a draw, Professor?"
She nodded once. Maybe it was just him, but she seemed rather… at peace. And for now, that was enough.
Their horses were given all the brushing and pampering for a job well done. When she was done, she wiped the sweat off her forehead with the sleeve of her overcoat before turning to face him. "Thank you." Calm and composed as she always was, but the open gratitude in her eyes shone like glowing stars.
He knew his cheeks were reddening. Hopefully she would assume it was the lingering rush of their race. "It was my pleasure."
"I mean… Thank you. I feel a little embarrassed that one of my students has been covering for me around the monastery, but I am grateful for it. Thank you for everything, Dimitri."
He knew what she intended to do the moment she lifted herself to her toes and leaned in. A peck on the cheek. A quick kiss meant to convey her thanks where words alone would not suffice. Dimitri should have let her gesture be what it was meant to be, but he closed his eyes and turned his head, just a fraction, so that it was not his cheek she touched with her lips.
Formality and shyness - and the underlying, ever present trauma of what happened at Duscur - had left him with no point of reference in such matters, but Dimitri found it impossible to imagine a kiss other than this one, utterly tasteless and yet perfectly sweet. He was surprised she didn't pull away, even placing her hand on his shoulder as she pressed herself closer to him. A gesture he only encouraged when he raised a hand to her hip. Like we were about to dance. He regretted not asking her for one during the ball.
It could not have lasted more than a few seconds before she came to her senses, placing both her hands on his chest and pushed herself away from him.
The logical reaction. The reasonable reaction, but it stung. Far more than her silence at the Goddess Tower did. For a moment, they stood there, faces flushed and breathing heavily and then both her hands flew to her mouth with both her hands as she lowered her head, unable to look at him after what he'd done.
"I-I'm his- I'm your professor," she stammered, shaking her head as though denying an accusation as she placed a hand on her chest and bowed deeply. "I should not have taken advantage of you like that. Please accept my apologies."
This was all wrong. Dimitri was used to being bowed to, but coming from her… It was simply not right. It was not just because of how much he respected her, but because if there was anything he learned today, it was that she was still grieving, still vulnerable and he had done what he did anyway. They were in plain sight. What if someone had seen? That was all it would take for her stirling reputation to shatter and possibly even cause her to lose her teaching position, but Dimitri had only been thinking of himself and what he wanted.
"Apology accepted," he replied. "My behavior was unbecoming as well."
"I..." she said, still keeping her head down as she backed away. "Then I think we can both agree that… that never happened."
He blinked. "Whatever do you mean, Professor?" he asked quietly, feeling his princely mask slip firmly back into place. "I merely requested additional guidance on my riding techniques."
She wasted no time fleeing the stables once that was said and done and he didn't blame her one bit. Dithering a bit longer, Dimitri placed one hand on the walls to support himself as he felt an oncoming migraine.
It took him a while to notice that his hands were shaking.
His hands…
He would do everything, anything to help her find justice for Jeralt, but once he graduated and they were no longer teacher and student, it was for the best that she stayed far, far away from him. Even if he would benefit greatly from her aid, it wasn't worth the cost to her. She deserved to be happy and someone like him would only lead her down a savage, bloody path where she did not belong.
These hands of his… they always ended up breaking that which was precious, after all.
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a dimileth fic from me that doesn't have a word salad title \o/
Consider this an exercise of sorts - in writing Dimitri's pov and pre-timeskip dimileth. And what's the point of pre-timeskip byleth/anyone if you're not making them dance the boundary between what's appropriate and what's not.
I would like to express my thanks towards my friends Raye, who sent me the prompts for this fic when I was struggling to come up with ideas of my own, and Liv, who helped me get past the writers block thats plagued me for weeks. I couldn't have done it without their support :)