AN: Hello everyone! Welcome back if you've read the original and welcome if you're new, to the encore of my beloved passion project, "Let's Die Together!" I'm so excited to be officially reentering this fandom after so long!
As you've read from the synopsis, this is an AU of the Three Houses Story where Dimitri and Edelgard rekindle their friendship...and it flares to something else entirely. If you don't like this ship, or chapters averaging 5k, this may not be your cup of tea! In addition, all the dark shit that happens in the game (trauma, gore, death etc.) will make an appearance here-sometime in more graphic detail so again, read at your own discretion.
I'm buzzing with excitement to show you all this rebooted version of this story and I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's pretty thicc at 10k, but the next couple will be shorter, promise!
Hope everyone enjoys!
I wish I could remember that first day,
First hour, first moment of your meeting me,
If bright or dim the season, it might be
Summer or Winter for aught I can say;
So unrecorded did it slip away,
So blind was I to see and to foresee,
So dull to mark the budding of my tree
That would not blossom yet for many a May.
If only I could recollect it, such
A day of days! I let it come and go
As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow;
It seemed to mean so little, meant so much;
If only now I could recall that touch,
First touch of hand in hand – Did one but know!
— Christina Rossetti
Spring
Chapter I: The First Day
In which Edelgard, tasked with destroying both in a little under a year, is grudgingly apprehensive about Rhea and her domain.
Meanwhile, Dimitri deep in the trenches of self-loathing, seeks the warmth of a once beloved friend.
When Edelgard stood beneath the looming shadow of Garreg Mach Monastery, her gasp was not the tune of awe and delight as her peers'.
There was a simple explanation really; they saw towers crowned with glittering early spring snow and she saw the watchful mages standing dutifully within them, so powerful that even from where she stood a thousand feet below she could feel their power. They saw the intricate and beautiful architecture of the arches, pathways, balconies and bridges connecting the whole structure together while she saw a sturdy stone giant boasting its fortitude. And atop one of those balconies, the one overseeing the trunk and carriage clustered courtyard bellow, the naive and fooled future students saw a beautiful woman with flowing sea foam hued hair and a benevolent smile. All the while, Edelgard accurately saw a monster.
And Archbishop Rhea was the worst sort of monster.
The monster in question gave a light wave to the crowd of students, eyes crinkling at the sides as her smile broadened by a delicate degree before she folded her hands within her sleeves and glided out of sight—into that heavily protected fortress.
In little under a year, Edelgard had decided that she would remove said monster from power and send her lair crumbling, had lifted her chin in pride as the creature masquerading as her uncle boasted as such to his court of actors. She'd been so sure, so positively confident in her capabilities that she hadn't even glared when "Mistress Cornelia" tittered into her fingers like she was prone to do when Edelgard was in a good mood.
But here, beneath Garreg Mach's shadow, her confidence wavered, her gloved hands clenched then unclenched shakily and her heart had begun to beat an anxious tempo.
One year.
The sound of chirping future students became deafening, clashing with the roar of doubts circling within her head. She couldn't remember a time she'd been so—
"Uh-oh, I know that face!"
Edelgard tore her gaze from the monastery and towards the cheerful looking knight striding towards her, green eyes zeroed in on her lonesome figure and a neat mustache sat atop an overly-familiar grin.
"Face?" Edelgard repeated slowly. She was fairly certain her expression hadn't somehow revealed any treachery; the silk ribbon around his arm proudly showcased the symbol of Seiros and he would be duty bound to take her before his monster master for execution if he saw Edelgard as a threat. But, again, his mannerisms were laid back and cheerful.
"No need to play dumb!" The knight boomed as he smacked a heavy gauntlet sheathed hand against her shoulder blade. She fought the urge to flinch as he continued with, "I'd know that First Day Jitter's Face anywhere!"
He'd seen her nerves? Had she truly been so lost in her worried sea of thought that she hadn't noticed her fears projecting on her face?
The annoyance of her little slip up must've showed as well because the cheerful knight rubbed her back and said, "Aye, come on there's nothing to be ashamed of! You're about to enter the most prestigious academy in all of Fódlan; most everyone would be a little scared to step inside!"
"I am not scared," Edelgard said in a level voice to both him and herself as she stepped away from the hand at her back. "It's only brick and motor."
"Ah, but prestigious brick and motor!"
Edelgard fought the urge to roll her eyes.
"And again, there's no shame in being a little anxious! Do you have any friends with you?"
Edelgard hesitated before glancing over her shoulder. Her retainer Hubert stood a little ways away by their carriage, his only visible green eye flicking between the footman carrying out their suitcases and her. Any student who glanced in his direction immediately shied away from the imposing shadows he created with his tall frame and raven black hair.
He raised his eyebrow in question and she subtly shook her head; the knight was obnoxiously sunny but seemingly harmless.
"I have my vassal, Hubert," she said, although it felt wrong suggesting he was a "friend". It felt juvenile, fleeting. Friends spoke of things that were not war plans and took walks into town for reasons that did not involve mapping out areas and blurred in your mind after awhile because they faded into insignificance.
Needlessly to say, that was not either of them—friends were what she and Hubert would be in another life. One devoid of Agarthans and scars and wars on the horizon.
"There you go!" The knight said. "And once you're inside the monastery you'll probably meet plenty more familiar faces from your home country! So don't you worry too much, alrighty?"
More people, more chances for unwelcome eyes to peer beneath the annoying cracks in her mask like he had just—
But no. She couldn't look at this situation with dread squirming beneath her breast. If there was one thing she could take away from this unwanted conversation, it was that she had to be more mindful of her emotions, and by extension any thoughts that painted said emotions onto her face for all to behold. Yet, Edelgard couldn't quite shove those anxious thoughts deep into her trusty vault at the back of her mind like she usually would. Not when Rhea was so near and her domain's shadow loomed so darkly over her.
She offered the knight a polite smile over the tightening in her chest. "I will take your words to heart. Thank you."
"My pleasure!" The knight said with a salute before waltzing off again with an extra spring in his step and happy whistle.
She vaguely wondered if his carelessly chirpy demeanor hid a more deadly nature, and with a hum of contemplation, she filed that away for later speculation. Her mind instead found it appropriate to think back to that Other Life. The one where she may have indeed had a First Day Jitters Face and Hubert's bond to her was all emotion and no duty. Where she wouldn't have to worry so much about shoving away her anxiety and—
"AH!" someone shrieked in glee, and Edelgard was once again torn from her musings. She turned towards the excitable interruption, though instead of a knight, it was a girl grinning ear to ear and clapping giddily. "You're here! You're here!"
Edelgard frowned in confusion as the now laughing girl dashed towards her with arms spread out. "I'm sorry," she said. "Do I know…?" her voice trailed off as the girl ran past and crashed into the arms of another. Edelgard watched them spin each other around before stepping apart and hooking arms with one another, chatting eagerly about things that friends chatted about.
After a moment, she tore her eyes away and returned them to the fortress that was Garreg Mach Monastery.
In that hypothetical life, Fódlan would never get better.
She needed to remember that.
-oO0-
How did they do it?
How did they smile without the barest hint of strain, laugh with both their chest and eyes, joke and hug and spread flammable joy around to others like coal in a fireplace as if it were oh so simple? Like it was nothing? Dimitri, despite being surrounded by his friends and what must have been hundreds of students beneath the shadow of one of the most beautiful structures in all of Fódlan, felt as if he were in a bubble devoid of all colour and grace.
He could falsify his attachment to reality most days; smile and bow politely after a compliment, nod and hum and "of course" during a conversation, shake hands and say "It was a pleasure to meet you" when he really meant "good riddance" and flush politely under a lady's attention when he'd rather curse his uncle for bringing up the hopes of yet another hopeful woman.
And then…then there were days like these when the chasm between him and everyone else spanned so far he couldn't see the cliff on the other side, when even the dimmest toddler could see the grimace in his smile, and where his family whispered the loudest. He usually spent the day in his room when he was in such a state, but the royal carriage would have to suffice.
"You appear troubled." The gentle baritone of Dedue's voice pulled Dimitri from the window. His retainer was as stoic as always, sitting ramrod straight even atop the overly plush pillowed bench and staring intently at him with eyes glowing like emeralds against his dark skin.
He offered him a smile. "I'm fine, Dedue."
Dedue's lips turned downwards and his brow lowered. Dimitri swallowed before brightening his smile by another degree.
It clearly wasn't doing its job.
"Tea?" Dedue gestured to the small frilled table separating their seats. After a moment of thought, Dimitri nodded, and Dedue reached forwards to pour a cup before handing it to him.
"Thank you," Dimitri uttered as he swirled the tea and went back to staring out the window. The tea was lukewarm at best and too cool to let off a strong aroma; whatever calming effect it could've had on him had long dissipated near the beginning of the journey. But if it would assuage Dedue—
He gasped and jerked back in surprise when a snowball crashed against the glass before sliding off, leaving a wet sun glittered smear in its wake. The culprit—a boy whose dark, curled hair was filled with melting snow crystals—cringed in embarrassment before waving and mouthing "sorry".
Dimitri let out an amused breath and waved back mouthing, "it's fine," back to him. The boy lightly grinned in response, and that grin became a muffled cry of shock as a snowball hit him in the back of the head. He then ducked down, grabbed a handful of muddy snow and returned to the snowball fight he was clearly apart of, a glint of mischief in his bright green eyes.
Dimitri hadn't had a snowball fight with his friends since—well it'd been five years. He could remember the excitement and the joy like a phantom just out of reach. It would be nice to have one again, he felt.
Then again, he'd also given Sylvain a concussion during that fight, so perhaps it was for the best that they avoided it.
Dimitri hadn't realized he'd spilled his tea until he felt Dedue gently remove it from his hand and place it down for refilling.
"Ah, Dedue. You needn't—"
"I fear I must humbly disagree, Your Highness," Dedue responded as he handed him the refilled cup.
"Erm…thank you," Dimitri said with a weak smile as he took the offered cup once more. Though once again he found himself swirling it around and around as opposed to actually drinking anything. He probably should, he hadn't eaten all day but…
"I will alert the students nearby that they musn't play in this area."
"No, no," Dimitri said as he batted a hand. "There's no need."
"You may spill your tea again," Dedue countered.
"It's fine, truly. I'm not exactly in the mood for tea anyway."
Dedue frowned. "Is it not to your liking?"
"No, no. As I said, I'm just…not in the mood."
"I see," Dedue said, nodding sagely. "So would it be right to assume you are troubled?"
"Now, Dedue, why must mere tea be the decider of my mood?" Dimitri tried to joke, but Dedue did not appear convinced; his frown deepened.
Sighing, Dimitri placed the cup atop its saucer and returned to the window, resting his head on the glass and letting the sun filter through his lashes. "I'm fine. I told you as such already."
There was a beat of silence before Dedue cleared his throat. "I have my oils—"
"No, thank you."
"Perhaps you are overheated. I can unpack one of your cooler outfits—"
"I am not overheated."
"Is there anything at all—?"
"I am fine, Dedue!" Dimitri barked, whirling on his retainer before hissing at the similar explosion of his headache. The second the throbbing pain had diminished enough for Dimitri to register the sharp tension in Dedue's body did he become consumed with guilt.
"Oh Dedue, I—I'm so sorry I didn't mean—!"
"Forgive me," Dedue said, head bowed in remorse as if he had been the one to blow up inappropriately.
"Please don't apologize," Dimitri pleaded, leaning forward to place a hand atop Dedue's knee. "I was out of line. I—you were right I'm—"
"I will provide you with space, Your Highness. Please alert me if you need anything else."
Dimitri swallowed his response as he sank back into his seat, head bowed under the heavy weight of his shame. Goddess, what was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just…just…
Once more, Dimitri pressed his aching temple against the cool glass of the window, subsequently allowing him to better hear the jovial voices just outside. Far beyond his reach.
And truly, why shouldn't they be? Why did he need them to be?
He closed his eyes as the whispering of his family rose in volume, consuming him in their accusations, their demands, their grief. He had no need for jovial laughter—he had them. Them and his duty to their memory and ghost.
But sometimes…sometimes he wished.
-oO0-
It was a half-hour after the final carriage had left when the enormous doors of Garreg Mach swung open. The resounding creak that the ancient doors made effectively caused all the conversation within the courtyard to taper off into an anticipative silence broken only by the cheerful chirping of the birds.
Edelgard had expected The Archbishop, but instead, emerging from the darkness was a tall green haired man dressed in elegant robes. His lips were pressed in a thin, stoic line and his verdant gaze swept over the future student body before he crossed his arms behind his back and cleared his throat loudly.
"Good afternoon," the man said, and a few others in the crowd muttered back the greeting. "My name is Seteth, adviser to Archbishop Rhea as well as your tour guide for the day."
Ah. She supposed that made sense; if The Archbishop wanted to instill her and her future peers with respect and weariness right off the bat, then sending her no-nonsense right-hand man as ambassador was prudent. After all, it wouldn't do for her to ruin her benevolent, motherly persona with viciously dished out threats of expulsion. Through her adviser however, her rules of conduct could be made harshly clear while leaving her public face in tact.
His next words proved Edelgard's theory sound, as the man narrowed is eyes and proceeded to add, "I am also your disciplinary always, starting at this very moment. I don't care how long it took for you to get here, any inappropriate behavior will have you sent right. Back. Home."
There was deathly silence that even the birds obeyed to, before the man—Seteth—nodded. "Right. Follow me then. Please be silent, refrain from shoving, and leave your bags where they are."
"I beg your pardon!" A boy exclaimed incredulously from the crowd. "I've brought plenty important things with me! What if they get lost?"
"The instructions within your acceptance letter clearly stated that all possessions are to be labeled," Seteth said bitingly. "If you haven't done so than that it is of no fault but your own if they get lost. Once again: leave your bags and follow me."
"Wow, is he always this grumpy or is he in a bad mood?" a redheaded boy muttered from beside her. He was promptly elbowed by his blonde companion who shushed him with a green-eyed glare.
Most of the crowd began to follow Seteth into The Monastery, although a few others were quickly trying to find creative ways to label their belongings. Edelgard spared an imperceptibly sympathetic wince at the poor soul who had tried leaving a distinctive scratch on his satchel and only managed to slice it clean in half. Many hadn't the time to try anything at all as knights told them to keep up and promised if anything got lost, they could check Lost and Found.
Seteth could very well had just said that, but again, Edelgard supposed the point of all this was to inject everyone with a bit of trepidation.
The students trickled into the gloomy area, filling the wide marble floored hallway with the echoes of a hundred footsteps. Edelgard surveyed the room, looking past the nicely arched mahogany walls and high vaulted ceiling decorated in elegantly embossed swirls but opting to run her fingers down the side instead.
Magic responded beneath her touch and she sighed softly. There were plenty of wards here…it would take a while to take them all down—
But she would. She would.
Rolling her shoulders back she nodded resolutely to herself.
As the final student entered the establishment, the doors creaked closed with a thud, casting everyone in darkness. That was until Seteth clapped twice and the candelabras dangling above them came to life, little flames rapidly popping up from each wick like flickering flowers in bloom.
Awed "oohs" with a smattering of applause filled the air, and Edelgard clamped down on the idea to scoff, however her incredulity was appropriately mirrored by Hubert as he let out a chuckle. Really. It was flame magic, had none of these people seen as such in their entire lives?
"This," Seteth said, spreading his hands out in gesture. "Is the Entrance Hall. I'm sure you can gleam its purpose due to the name alone so I won't bother explaining it to you."
It quickly became apparent to Edelgard that Seteth The Archbishop's Adviser had clear issues in the charisma department. He constantly spoke in a clipped monotone about every area they visited, and the only information he gave was laced in insult: "This is the fishing pond. No, you may not swim in it before you ask, unless you desire to poison your dinner." "This is the library. Please surprise me and make this a student hot spot." "This is the courtyard. Litter and I will find and punish you."
She could've took the droning if the tour wasn't so utterly mediocre. She had all school year to scope out the area certainly, but a little history on an area's conception, fun facts about what was used to build it or…anything really could've helped greatly. There was no stopping to take in the area and no breaks (though one girl whined for one. She was predictably snapped at). At the very least, Edelgard would have appreciated another rudimentary light show to quench her growing boredom.
Finally, the large group crossed a long white bricked bridge. Many took the chance to take in the admittedly pretty view as Edelgard scanned the far off walls bordering the place. It didn't seem to be too special (sans the powerful guards in place) but they were probably just as warded as the inside…
A few people screamed as a pair of wyvern riders swooped overhead, sending a gust of wind crashing over the unsuspecting students. Edelgard shielded her face with the crook of her arm until it'd passed before straightening up her now ruffled up blouse. As annoying as that was, at least she'd made the decision to put her hair up that day—a ruined loose hairstyle would've been considerably more agitating.
"Apologies for the interruption," Seteth said over his shoulder before continuing forwards. "Come along, this is our final stop."
"UGH, finally!" A voice cried from the throng, and Edelgard was half-positive it was the same girl who had whined for a break. She supposed Seteth was tired too, however, as the girl wasn't scolded again.
More gasps and "ooh!"s made their rounds as they entered the final room. It was slightly wider than the Entrance Hall and far more beautiful with its tall arched windows and the mural that decorated the high vaulted ceiling. Then there were the silver candle scones lining the wall between mahogany pews and the thin patterned glass that crowned the very top of the area. It all looked like fragile beauty but Edelgard was certain that wasn't the case at all. At the same time she didn't sense much, if any magic here, so if it wasn't protected by wards then…
"This is the Cathedral," Seteth announced as the doors shut behind the last student in. "Here you will come for Sunday worship—if you so wish to—as well as personal. We hope to host a choir club here if the demand is high enough and you will find this makes for a lovely study area. Sense the serene aura permeating from the stones? They were crafted nearly a millennium ago with the aid of the most powerful mages of the time."
Of course this was the room Seteth deemed worthy to speak about in any relevant length.
"And that will conclude our tour. Any queries can be taken to the staff and maps will be handed out by the Mess Hall when the Welcome Feast begins. For now, please take your seats; Lady Rhea will join you all shortly."
With a brisk nod, Seteth breezed out of the area with a whip of his robes, and the moment he departed was the moment the spell of silence dissipated. Excited chatter filled the area as Edelgard and Hubert migrated towards the pews.
"I don't know whether to be amused or disappointed by how easy to please those fools are," Hubert commented.
"This place is beautiful," Edelgard admitted. "Had I been here for different reasons I may have been…" Edelgard's voice trailed off as a light laugh cut through the chatter of everyone else. She paused in her steps, feeling an irritable tug on her soul at that seemingly generic sound. Even as she mentally berated herself for wasting her time on frivolous activities, she found her eyes searching the room as one by one, every voice faded away into irrelevancy.
Except for one.
There was nothing very remarkable about the boy. He was handsome enough she supposed, as the side profile she could gleam was symmetrically sculpted and framed by neatly trimmed blonde hair, but there was nothing outright astounding about his appearance. There was nothing captivating about his voice either, no boisterous charisma nor memorable accent and yet…she was…taken? Arrested? No, distracted by him. By his somewhat tense movements as he made gestures during his conversation, the dying evening light tuning his hair golden, that stilted, hesitant voice that sounded so foreign yet so bewilderingly familiar—
Quite suddenly, he turned in her direction, and Edelgard's eyes locked with the boy's cerulean blue ones.
With her senses zeroed exclusively on him, she could hear the soft gasp that escaped his lips and see both the sharp tensing of his posture and light widening of his eyes. She could also see the thousands of thoughts skittering across the open book of his gaze, the clenching and unclenching of his fists, the way his mouth closed and opened repeatedly before he'd decided to clench his jaw shut and make his Adam's apple bob with a swallow.
Edelgard's brows furrowed slightly and she tilted her head a degree to the side as she appraised him once more. But even with a proper frontal view of the boy, she couldn't for the life of her pin a name to him.
Where? Where had she seen him before? And who was he to evoke such an intense subconscious reaction from her?
The questions in her head multiplied as he rose his arm, hesitated, then had it continue it's trajectory into a wave, a fragile smile spreading slowly across his face.
'You know me,' Edelgard realized, and judging by the lack of confusion in his expression, had a name to pin on her as well.
'Of course he does!' a more logical voice harrumphed. 'You're princess of the most prosperous country in Fódlan.'
Yes. That made sense. On top of which, the double breasted coat he wore was too fine in make to belong to a humble commoner; he'd probably met her briefly at a party of some sorts and now felt it appropriate to try his hand at courting her.
That made sense. That must be it.
She didn't bother questioning the effort it took to tear her eyes away from him, nor the feeling within her that insisted she look back over her shoulder and gaze upon him once more.
"Apologies, Hubert," Edelgard said clearing her throat and turning to her retainer instead. "As I was saying—"
"Prince Dimitri was looking at you rather intently," Hubert stated in a musing tone.
"Ah!" Edelgard smiled lightly, glad that that little mystery had been solved. Of course she'd seen the Crown Prince of Faerghus in paintings and sketches before. A little voice within her brought up that that did not at all explain the strong reaction she'd had to his voice but she cast it aside. "I knew I'd seen his face somewhere."
"I will keep in eye on him," Hubert said as the two took their seats at the far end of a pew. "He appeared for too…familiar for my tastes."
"There's no need," Edelgard said flippantly as she crossed her legs and folded her hands atop her lap. "We have more important things to set our sights upon."
Even so, she found herself give into the odd urge of looking back at him.
Her eyes found his instantly, and she found them filled with an inexplicable amount of anguish.
-oO0-
Dimitri's headache hadn't subsided at all during the tour; that must have been the reason it'd taken more than half a second to recognize Her.
In the midst of conversing with Sylvain about—Goddess he couldn't remember now because his mind was completely consumed with thoughts of Her—he'd felt the heat of a gaze on his neck. When he'd turned to visualize the onlooker, his mind went blank for one…two…three moments trying to place the immediate familiarity he felt warming his heart. Then, the Cathedral dissipated in a rush of blood, and every thought dissolved into nothingness.
Nothing remained in his sight nor his head but a pair of lilac eyes and peony colored lips, rosy cheeks hollowed out and aristocratically molded with age and an elegantly slender nose all placed proportionally atop a delicately crafted face. Hair once a soft, caramel brown was now the hue of fresh snow and pulled into a braided bun with a ribbon and—
One singular thought blossomed in his brain as he took in the sight of the beautiful young woman.
El.
That name brought with it a whirlwind of memories; her impish smile and stubborn disposition, her hands tugging him into a waltz or game of tag and constantly sticky with the melted sugar of sweet buns. That name brought up a girl who'd gifted him a pet name on a hill filled with flowers and who he'd gifted a dagger in return. The name brought up a girl who felt like a figment of his imagination most days because she'd left four years and seven months ago, waved and waved and waved as her carriage turned a bend and then never returned his letters.
And then, when he'd crawled and stumbled out of the worst of The Tragedy's aftershock, El had become Crown Princess with certainly more important things to worry about then princes she had taught to dance. And with his own duties, he too had more important things to worry about than princesses he had given daggers to. He became resigned to the fact that, similarly to Father, Stepmother, Glenn and so many others, he'd never see her again.
Except he was. Seeing her. Right now. At this precise moment. Staring at him and he didn't know what to say—and oh Goddess what did he do? What did he do, what did he do—?!
Gingerly, he offered a wave and a pathetic smile.
She turned and walked away.
Dimitri jerked back and inhaled a sharp, strangled breath as his heart exploded messily within his rib cage. His chest burned with the sting as he stumbled backwards into reality, and he would've crashed into the side of the pew had Dedue not gripped his shoulders and held him up.
"Your Highness?" Ingrid said, looking up from her book with a concerned frown. She slammed it shut and took his bicep, urging him to sit down as Dedue gently helped to maneuver him.
"I-I'm fine," Dimitri breathed in a dazed voice. He fought the urge to slump limply in his seat, but the effort was causing his shoulders to shake.
She'd…turned away. Why had she turned away? Did she not remember? Did she want nothing to do with him? Had he done something to upset her? But…how? Could she simply tell from a glance that he wasn't worth the time, or the energy, or the letters? Had their time together meant so little? Had he just lost one of the few things he had left of—?
"Fine? You look like you've been stabbed," Sylvain said with a snort as he leaned against the pew. Though his tone was light and a smile was in place, his brown eyes watched him intently.
"Was he like this the entire day?" Ingrid demanded Dedue as she placed the back of her hand beneath Dimitri's sweaty bangs.
"Yes," Dedue admitted with a nod. "But not nearly as—"
"And you didn't bother telling anyone?"
"Ingrid, please. I'm—"
"Don't say you're fine!"
"I'm just…overheated." True enough but it had nothing to with the mid-heat of early spring, Dimitri felt warm with shame. how had he thought for even a moment that she'd want to interact with him? Him of all people?
Dedue reached forwards to unbutton his coat, but Ingrid batted his hand away in did so herself. "You have to be careful with your health, Your Highness. We can't have anything happen to you."
There was a scoff from the bench ahead of them, and Felix looked over his shoulder to glare. "Please, you're all getting worked up over nothing."
"Felix is right, I'm fi—I'm alright." Dimitri offered them all a kind smile as he shrugged off his coat. He'd be better tomorrow, hopefully.
"Felix doesn't get an opinion; he's trained himself into three different sprains without noticing—all in a month," Ingrid said, giving Felix a scolding glare.
Felix rolled his eyes and looked back in front of him, shooting a glare at a student who made the grave error of trying to sit beside him.
Dimitri watched the student skitter off with a sympathetic frown before he folded the coat neatly and spread it across his lap. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, grounding himself back into the here and now as he lifted his head once more.
El was looking at him again.
Dimitri flinched and looked away.
"Wait, wait, wait…" Sylvain said in a tone that Dimitri found highly worrisome. He eyed his friend warily as he slid in and shimmed himself between he and Ingrid, much to the latter's annoyance. "I know what's got His Highness…hot."
Dedue closed his eyes and let out a hum of defeat as Dimitri's traitorous cheeks flushed red and Ingrid barked, "Sylvain!"
"You were eying the princess, weren't you?" Sylvain said with a wiggle of his eyebrow. "I saw you."
"It wasn't like that, Sylvain," Dimitri murmured in an almost pleading voice.
Unfortunately, Sylvain showed no mercy. He held up his hands with a broad grin as he said, "Hey, I get it! She's a total beauty, especially in person. Buuut if the Fairest Maidens of Fódlan is to be believed—"
"Nobody with half a brain listens to that stupid pamphlet, Sylvain," Ingrid huffed.
Sylvain ignored her and continued unabashed. "—she's got a snatch as untouchable and ice cold as her personality."
"Excuse me!" a girl sitting behind them cried. The three of them turned to see a flaxen blonde covering her ears and frowning in a way that immediately reminded Dimitri of his stepmother, Patricia when she was cross with him. "This is a cathedral! Don't you find this conversation more than a little inappropriate?"
"Oh, I-I'm so terribly sorry," Dimitri said as he, Ingrid and Sylvain turned back in their seats, the latter two giving the redhead a glare.
Sylvain cleared his throat awkwardly and tossed a half-hearted "sorry," over his shoulder before saying in a lowered voice, "Anyway, point is…scarily unapproachable." Dimitri frowned at that. El? Unapproachable and ice-cold? No, that wasn't right…
"I'm shocked you didn't see that as a challenge," Felix deadpanned, though he was still facing forwards. Part of Dimitri wondered if he was avoiding having to look at him.
Ah, who was he kidding? Of course he was. Felix couldn't stay in the same room with Dimitri for more than a few short minutes back in Fhirdiad and never set foot in the Kingdom's capitol unless explicitly required to. Why did he think coming here would make the slightest bit of difference?
"As painful as it is to admit, alas her heart is a challenge I'm unable to conquer," Sylvain said in dramatic solemness. He pressed a fist to his heart and bowed his head in shame. "My love is a candle—fiery but fleeting!" He rose his voice and arms like a preacher in vigorous worship, and Felix spared a scoff for his antics. "Our relationship would no doubt end in her heart in pieces. I can play such a game with other women but not a future Emperor such as Miss Hresvelg—y'know unless I was suicidal.
"Buuuut…" Sylvain immediately brightened and turned to Dimitri who was already running an exasperated hand down his face. "Our friend Mitya over here could actually have a chance!"
"I highly doubt that, Sylvain," Dimitri sighed, wincing slightly when Felix hummed in agreement. "And besides, I told you I wasn't looking at her in that way."
"Somebody's in denial," Sylvain snorted.
"Sylvain—"
"Students, please stand to welcome our Archbishop," the booming voice of a knight near The Cathedral archway said, and Dimitri sent a silent thank you to The Goddess as he complied.
He then began the grueling task of pushing El to the back of his mind.
-0O0-
Edelgard could say that for but a moment she understood the reverie many had for The Archbishop. The issue wasit would be ingenuous to do so; Edelgard understood The Archbishop's appeal long after a moment and felt she would continue to do so well into the future.
There was an aura about her that Edelgard was certain the entire Cathedral audience could sense as she glided down the aisle with a congregation of knights and (what Edelgard assumed to be due to Jeritza's presence) professors in tow. The manner in which she carried herself was somehow both humble and humbling, her smile comfortingly maternal and her gaze soft with fondness for a room of young strangers.
Edelgard chanced a quick glance at Hubert. He didn't appear to share her silent sentiments, as he wore the slightest of smirks as he applauded politely with the rest of the student body. She was supposed to be wearing that—that look of condescending "oh, please" but instead she felt as if she'd been wrapped in a warm blanket.
Walk. All that woman had to do was—
She lightly harrumphed to herself. Well, in Edelgard's defense, she'd had centuries of practice with her smoke and mirrors. It had been a true miscalculation to forget that Rhea's lack of humanity could extend to inhumane acting capabilities.
As The Archbishop reached the end of the aisle and turned, she held up one hand to indicate her desire for silence. The applause puttered out. Seteth took her side on the right while the professors stood on the left and knights stood at the foot of the dais. Then in an impossibly melodic voice she uttered, "Thank you, you may sit."
Edelgard had fully expected the show of benevolence, but she'd also expected to feel the falseness of it. Yet she…didn't. She knew it was all a show but Rhea was such a phenomenal actor that the carefully calculated scripts and rehearsed smiles seemed to all fade away. Edelgard narrowed her eyes slightly as she and the rest of the audience returned to their seats.
Rhea was more formidable than she'd thought.
"Good evening, everyone. I won't take too much of your time as I'm sure you're all very hungry and more than a little tired from your individual journeys."
That same annoying girl from before whooped loudly, and while Seteth scowled and searched the crowd for her as a few students snickered, Rhea's gentle smile simply broadened.
"I'd like to welcome each and everyone of you to The Officer's Academy, and thank you for choosing to entrust your combat education to us." Rhea gestured towards Seteth with a sweep of her right arm. "Standing on my right is my adviser and dear friend Seteth whom you've met already. He will be dealing with any 'funny business' as he so likes to put it.
"With that in mind, now would be a good time to state the rules…"
No fighting in any area that wasn't The Training Grounds, no skipping class unless you had express permission, show respect to your superiors—all standard school and etiquette rules Edelgard had heard many a times. In fact, she was certain at least half the students here had too. It was confusing why Rhea felt the need to dispense such generic advice, and Edelgard's only conclusion was that she'd simply wanted an excuse to make an appearance before the entire student body.
Scare them with Seteth, soothe them with herself—again, it was grudgingly prudent of her.
"…breaking any of these rules will lead to detention. However, depending on the severity of the offense or the number of times the same offense has been made, we may unfortunately be forced to expel you." Rhea frowned and swept her spring green eyes across the room. It was as if the thought truly displeased her and she wanted all to know of it.
Had Edelgard not known any better, she may have believed it.
With her left arm this time, she gestured towards the professors. "Standing on my left are the lovely people prepared to bless your minds and hearts this school year. These are Professors Manuela, Hanneman, Dedrick and Jeritza."
Edelgard and Hubert joined in on the polite applause as all the professors sans an unsurprisingly unresponsive Jeritza acknowledge the audience.
"Professor Manuela is our faith magic, sword, and flying mount professor, as well as homeroom teacher to the Black Eagles house." An attractive woman with a neat brown bob and a beauty mark above bronze painted lips—Manuela—waved with her fingers. She gave the politely applauding audience a flirtatious smile and an elegant, "Thank you, thank you," as an older man sporting a monocle and bushy mustache—either Hanneman or Dedrick—hissed something in her ear. Manuela scoffed lightly and rolled her eyes before stating, "I am also single."
The man ran a hand down his face as the cheering became considerably louder. Edelgard meanwhile, exchanged a quick look of displeasure with Hubert. Just how was she supposed to learn anything from a professor that appeared so…frivolous?
"Thank you, Manuela," Seteth said in a clipped voice as he gave her an unimpressed side eye. Rhea held up her hand to indicate she wanted silence once more before gesturing to the next professor. "This is Professor Hanneman who specializes in reason magic, archery, and horseback riding. He also acts as homeroom professor for the Blue Lions."
The elder man stepped forward this time, bowing and nodding at the students with a polite smile. "Thank you and welcome, students. I hope our time together will be highly illuminating."
This one appeared far more mature and "Professor-like" to Edelgard, and she let out a quiet envious sigh. The Blue Lions, at least, would be learning something.
The Golden Deer would not.
The next professor made Edelgard's concerns for Manuela seem suddenly too pessimistic. Professor Dedrick shuffled awkwardly in place when Rhea introduced him as the tactician, potion specialist, survival expert (Hubert grinned lightly while Edelgard sniffed), and Golden Deer teacher. He kept his head ducked, mousy brown hair partially obscuring his face as he mumbled a weak, "Hello." The only reason Edelgard could hear him at all was because of her close proximity to the dais.
Hubert clicked his tongue and Edelgard let out an amused breath in response.
"Last but certainly not least, here is Professor Jeritza who will teach you all how to take what you've learned and apply them in competitive combat."
Jeritza looked positively bored, and his introduction reflected as such—it was none existent. He hummed carelessly once before staring blankly up at the ceiling.
"How?" Edelgard muttered bewilderedly as she clapped along with the others. "How" as in, "how in Fódlan's name did Jeritza manage to keep his job for as long as he did?"
"There's a clear explanation, although I dare not say it here," Hubert muttered back, and the two exchanged a rapid smirk.
As the crowd silenced once more, Rhea clasped her hands in front of her again and rose them to her heart. "Now, with that out of the way, I will have our knights escort you to the Mess Hall for your dinner. Leave row by row and not all at once, please." Then, she bowed lightly and added, "May the Goddess smile on you all."
A light murmuring filled The Cathedral as The Archbishop's instructions were followed and the knights by The Cathedral archway herded the back row of students out. When it came their row's turn to leave, Edelgard and Hubert stood simultaneously in perpetration for departure. But her muscles coiled into scrunched knots the second The Archbishop placed a hand on her shoulder.
After crushing the instinctive desire to jerk away from the hand and whip out her dagger, Edelgard turned to face The Archbishop and her seemingly omnipresent smile before giving a polite one of her own. "Archbishop?" she queried in what she hoped was a light voice.
"The Welcome Feast isn't a mandatory event," Rhea said, blessedly removing her hand from Edelgard's shoulder and instead clasping it with her other once more.
Edelgard kept her face carefully composed and smothered the anxiety cropping up within her. This was in no small part aided by the brush of Hubert's hand against hers—a subtle reminder that she need only say the word if she felt their mission had failed before it had even begun. But there was also the fact that logically, Rhea would have no reason to suspect her of any treachery.
…but Rhea also had no reason to insinuate she should stay away from the other students. She offered her an innocently perplexed look. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean."
"You appear tired," Rhea responded, appraising Edelgard's face and nodding slightly to herself with a hum. "You should rest. Breakfast will be just as scrumptious as tonight, I'm sure."
Edelgard rolled her shoulders back and tilted her chin up slightly. "I appreciate your concern—" or thinly veiled threat. Edelgard wasn't entirely sure what Rhea was up to "—however I assure you, I'm perfectly alert."
"Ah," Rhea's smile broadened. "So stubborn. Well, if you're certain." She bowed lightly and said, "Have a blessed weekend, Princess," before leaving the room with her knights, as well as Seteth who looked just as bewildered as Edelgard felt.
Did she…look tired? Edelgard didn't usually make too much of a fuss when it came to makeup, but she was certain there were no dark circles to cover up regardless…were there? No, no, that couldn't have been—she would've noticed this morning when she did her hair. Although she had taken a nap in the—
Gah! What was she doing? This was clearly some psychological game The Archbishop was playing to try and ruffle her. Why? She couldn't say, but if it was true she hadn't done anything to erect suspicion then that meant this was simply a power move of some sorts. Yes. That made sense; she was trying to intimidate Edelgard because why wouldn't she? Adrestia had been pulling away from The Church and this—!
A thumb rubbed across her brow and smoothed the furrow she hadn't even realized had appeared. Edelgard turned to Hubert questioningly as he smiled lightly. "You look radiant, Lady Edelgard."
Edelgard returned the smile.
So there. Rhea's words were indeed a failed power move that she had just skillfully outmaneuvered.
Ha.
-0O0-
"Talk to her."
The blunt and somewhat vague command caused Dimitri's fork to pause inches from his mouth. His brow furrowed as he questioned, "Talk with whom, Sylvain?"
Sylvain rolled his eyes as if the answer were the most obvious to be conceived by man before jerking his head towards the Black Eagles tables, or more accurately towards El—one of the fondest memories of his childhood—as she delicately ate her dinner, pausing occasionally to dab at her mouth or saw something in half.
Dimitri tore his eyes away and looked despondently back into his plate. "I'd rather not, Sylvain."
"You've been giving her a wounded puppy look for the past half-hour—I think you rather would," Sylvain said, flipping two of the cards spread across the table and grinning triumphantly at finding a match.
"You have got to be cheating!" Ingrid exclaimed indignantly as a snickering Sylvain went on to find three more matches.
"Wounded puppy look?" Dimitri repeated incredulously. "I've been doing no such thing!"
"You've been sneaking glances at her for so long that they've stopped being sneaking," Sylvain said, pondering the row of cards with a pensive frown as Felix flipped over two mismatching cards with an annoyed harrumph. "Might as well shoot your shot."
Dimitri flushed and ducked his head. He had…briefly glanced in her way a few times but Sylvain was certainly exaggerating. In truth, he'd been glancing everywhere because the Dining Hall was a sight to behold and he'd rather sight-see than force more food down his stomach.
Dimitri had hated feasts back in Faerghus, and just like his poisoned relationship with Felix, that had not altered despite the change in venue. As a result, he'd only come to The Welcoming Feast for appearances' sake, and kept his plate moderately filled—just enough that Ingrid, Sylvain, and Dedue wouldn't fuss over him but not so much that eating felt like a chore…at least more than usual.
Still, he could truly appreciate the ambiance. When the students had filed in, a sprite like girl with curled sea-foam green twin tails handed out maps with a cheerful, "Hello, welcome!", a greeting he returned with a smile and thankful nod. Then once inside, the candelabras overhead painted the Hall in warm buttery light, and paring that with the amicable hum of conversation and scent of well cooked food, the place felt astronomically comforting. The Blue Lion tables, as well as that of the other two houses were helpfully marked with vibrant banners across their sides and a vase of flowers with their respective colors. Roses for the Black Eagles, hydrangeas for them, and snipped sunflowers for the Golden Deer.
He had simply glanced at the Black Eagles table more because…well El was there: different and familiar and terrifying and beautiful. She was the very picture of royal poise and elegance, a stark and blinding contrast to him. It was truly no wonder that she would take one look at his pathetic, sniveling self and decide that he was less worth her time than—
For the third time that day, she rose her eyes to meet his. Similarly to the dual times in The Cathedral, he was struck with the conflicting desire to attempt another smile or look away.
Still stung by his first attempt, he took the coward's way out.
"I'm telling you," Sylvain said in a sing song voice as he made two more matches. "Talk with her, Your Highness. If she turns you down then what the hell right? Rejection is what gives us the chance to be champions!" He punctuated the last word by slamming the final pair down with a smug grin, Ingrid groaning and Felix scoffing in response. "And anyway, it's better than those never ending 'what-if' scenarios, y'know?"
Dimitri glanced to the side and bit his lip. "I…suppose."
"Then?" Sylvain raised his eyebrows while shuffling for a new game, squawking in protest when Felix snatched it from him and shuffled them himself. "Sore loser much? I wasn't cheating!"
"I agree with Sylvain for once, Your Highness," Ingrid said with a little shrug. "You need some more friends in your life."
"Ha. Friends," Sylvain snorted.
"His Highness has expressed his disinterest in courtship, and I for one believe him," Dedue—silent up until this moment—defended.
"Of course you do," Felix sneered as he lined up the cards. "You'd believe him if he told you the sky was purple."
Dimitri clenched his jaw and turned to give Felix a glare. "Don't antagonize him, Felix." Felix looked up from the cards to stare coolly at him, but instead of responding to Dimitri's demand, he continued with, "Not that I feel he has any interest in the princess either way; the only thing that gets The Boar off is the sounds of tortured screams."
Dimitri's breath hitched as he flinched sharply. He was used to Felix's barbs, but they never hurt any less.
"Felix, stop," Ingrid snapped at the same time Sylvain sighed, "Come on, Fe."
"Well he isn't denying it, is he?" Felix challenged.
"His Highness does not need to answer to you," Dedue said in a dark voice.
"Why don't you let him speak for himself, Dog?"
"Felix," Sylvain said in a sharper tone. "Come on, man, cut it out."
Felix scoffed and crossed his arms. "The way you all flock to coddle his ego is sickening."
"The way you keep goading him is sickening!" Ingrid yelled.
"Well, if he'd stop insisting on hiding behind—"
"Enough!" Dimitri exclaimed, slamming his palms against the table and causing the wood to splinter. The cards scattered and fell through the air like autumn leaves and conversation around the Dining Hall quieted into curious silence.
Felix smirked and leaned back. "And there he is."
Humiliation trapped Dimitri's heart in a vice as bile crawled up his throat and heat burned his cheeks. He didn't dare look at anyone or anything as he mumbled a quick, "I'm sorry," and pushed up from the table in a staggered rush.
"Hey wait—Your Highness—" Sylvain reached for him but Dimitri jerked his hand away.
"Please, let me go Sylvain," he murmured hurriedly before briskly leaving the Mess Hall.
His heavy footsteps echoed throughout the empty hallway as he massaged his temple once more. Goddess, it was incident after incident today with him! Why did he even come here? Why didn't he just stay in Fhirdiad and endure his uncle's antics?
As he shouldered open a bathroom door, Dimitri chuckled bitterly to himself. He supposed it didn't even matter—he was probably going to be expelled after that mortifying outburst.
Turning on the faucet, Dimitri cupped his hands shakily under the stream before splashing it over his face. Then he gripped either side of the sink and rested his head against the mirror, letting its cool surface stable his thoughts.
Right. He'd return and apologize profusely. Say he'd been having a terrible headache—no, no he couldn't make excuses for himself. Ah, then what to say, what to say? What reason could he give for his uncouth behavior? That hearing his friends argue about his lack of humanity made—? Gah, that was just him making himself the victim again…
Inhaling deeply, Dimitri straightened once more and wiped away the fog his head and breath had left on the mirror's surface. He would apologize for his actions and that was all. If he was to be expelled for them, he would accept the punishment graciously and leave without fuss.
As he ventured down the sparsely lit halls a second time however, another pair of footsteps followed him. They weren't that of a student nor a knight, Dimitri could tell by the way they squelched and squeaked against the marble as they shuffled after him.
Dimitri could tell because in the past four years, he'd learned who they belonged to very well.
"Why apologize?"His father rumbled. Dimitri's footsteps slowed as he straightened his posture further and tried to regain the steady state of breathing he'd found in the bathroom. "You can grovel all you like, it won't hide a thing, son."
"I'm not doing it to hide," he murmured back. "I just—"
"Feel ashamed? Why? He's right, he's always been right, Dimitri. Why do you refuse to fully accept it?"
Dimitri stopped short of the Mess Hall doors and clenched his fists at his side. "I…my desires may be bloody but that doesn't mean they're the only thing I can and will ever care for."
Dimitri inhaled sharply as Lambert placed a heavy, bloody hand against his shoulder and squeezed, blood soaking the fabric of his blouse and causing him to shudder.
"Wrong…" Lambert snarled in his ear. Dimitri became suddenly overwhelmed by the sharp smell of blood, sweat, and—
Grunting, Dimitri jerked his shoulder away and sped walked away from the doors. The edges of his vision blurred and his gait was uneven and wobbly. Air. He needed air before he suffocated and choked and he couldn't—he needed—there!
Moonlight spilled pale blue on the walls in contrast to the warm gold of the candelabras (now far too bright). It was a clear marker for salvation and Dimitri sprinted down towards it like a man famished.
Once free from the claustrophobic claws of the indoors, Dimitri closed his eyes and inhaled with a sigh of relief. The Lone Moon glowed brilliantly in the violet evening sky, replacing the sun on its perch and painting the courtyard in a faded monochrome. The temperature was slightly cooler now, much to his eternal relief and the wind was light and deliciously chilling.
Best of all, there was silence for the first time since he'd arrived—well, save for the crunch of his boots trampling the frost tipped grass, but it wasn't nearly as agitating as the unending conversation of the students. His dark, scrambled thoughts scampered off beneath the cold's balm as Dimitri continued his walk, and he felt the littlest of smiles spread across his face.
Then he saw Her and it all went to Hell.
Dimitri inhaled sharply and froze abruptly. El stood on the balcony fanning the south Mess Hall doors, leaning against the stone railing and staring beyond the Fishing Pond. The golden glow of the indoor candles illuminated what would've otherwise been a nigh imperceivable female silhouette with her arms folded atop stone and posture almost painfully straight.
His immediate instinct was to turn away before she took notice of him, but Sylvain's voice froze his muscles for a second time—"talk to her."
And he wanted—but what if—he should—She—
Dimitri closed his eyes and inhaled one anxious breath. Then after another moment of hesitation, he stiffly strode forward, each step seemingly taking eons to complete. He'd stepped onto a single stone step and gripped the banister with one lightly quaking hand before lightly clearing his throat.
El (somehow) straightened further and blinked out of whatever reverie she'd been in before turning to face him. Something flashed in her eyes—annoyance?—and the only reason Dimitri hadn't turn heel and sped walked away at that very moment was because he needn't yet another mortifying memory of the night.
"Hello," Dimitri greeted as he slowly continued up the stairs. Goddess, he hoped his voice wasn't shaking…
"Hello," El replied simply, gaze flickering across his form analytically. There was a hardness in her eyes that Dimitri couldn't help but notice. They reminded him of the icebergs that sat on Faerghus's waters—imposing, hard, and painfully frigid. There was no warmth or giddy familiarity, there was simply…nothing. And it wasn't due to poor light either, as he'd come to figure out; as he joined her on the platform, her eyes didn't look any cozier despite the warm light from the Mess Hall reflecting in them.
But why? Why did vivacious, lively El posses such a chilly gaze? And why…why didn't it thaw at the sight of him?
"Can I help you?" El prompted, and Dimitri shook his head to rid his mind of the pondering that had crept up. "No?" She said.
"Oh—no! I-I mean I—" Dimitri clamped his mouth shut and inhaled once more before dipping into a bow mostly designed to hide his growing blush. "I am Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd—Crown Prince of Faerghus."
Perhaps she simply couldn't recognize him, but now that she had his name…
"Charmed," she said, very abundantly not charmed. Dimitri decided to stay in his blush hiding bow for a moment longer. "Pray tell, is my disinterest in approaching such a highly titled individual such as yourself the reason you've been shooting me wounded looks all evening?"
Dimitri's eyes widened as he quickly jolted straight once more with a spluttered, "No, no, you misunderstand! Not in the slightest was I perturbed by something so petty! I was simply…" 'waiting for you to show me some sign that you wanted to see me. That you…missed me as much as I did you.' But the words died on his tongue when he took in her demeanor once more. The rigid posture, the distant and unengaged eyes, the semi-agitated purse of her lips—El wanted nothing to do with him. If he spoke what was on his mind…oh he could only dread it. Perhaps a sharp statement solidifying his deduction, or worse a bemused and cruel laugh. "Why would I care to see you?" She'd say before demanding he get out of her sight.
He didn't think he could bare it.
Forcing a wane smile, he instead continued with, "…starstruck by your beauty. It's…the sight of you is—" he swallowed shakily. "—painful."
El stared at him for three uncomfortable seconds before she finally turned back to gazing over the Fishing Pond. "I'm not available for courtship."
"So I've heard," Dimitri said. "I simply needed to express myself."
"And so you have." It was a dismissal if there ever were one.
Dimitri was completely fine to comply with it after letting his faux smile drop and feeling crushing sadness settle over his heart. But just as he moved to turn to the Mess Hall doors he paused and turned back around. "Edelgard," he uttered.
El glanced at him over her shoulders and he flinched. "Apologies—I meant Princess Edelgard. Nonetheless…do you recall ever visiting Faerghus?"
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment Dimitri feared she wouldn't respond. However she provided him with: "Once."
The barest flutter of hope blossomed in Dimitri's chest as he moved towards her and questioned, "Did you—do you remember anyone…special?"
That hope dissipated and died when she turned around once more and stated, "No."
The stinging sensation from The Cathedral appeared for an encore and took Hope with it. Dimitri had thought of her everyday, her and the delightful moments she'd given him. He had nursed a nostalgic fondness for her that had only strengthened and sweetened with time like finely aged wine. Had clung to her sticky hands and fiery lavender eyes when all became dark and unbearable.
But to El—to Edelgard—he was nothing.
Dimitri's eyes fell to his boots as he backed away from her. "I see. Apologies again for…for bothering you."
Dimitri didn't reenter the Mess Hall, instead opting to return to his little walk around the courtyard. This time, Lambert followed, dousing the green frosted grass in red gore. This time, he didn't bother shaking him off.
AN: So, big change numero uno, Dimitri and Edelgard's conversation outside the Mess Hall is considerably more terse, and doesn't end on a hopeful note. Poor Dimitri :( but I wanted to establish them as individuals before pulling them together. Needless to say, their relationship will grow much more slowly than in the OG fic.
Second, I wanted to show the two of them bonding with other characters beside one another, so you'll notice there's a lot more of that too!
I hope you all enjoyed and thank you for reading!
Fantasy Fan OUT!