AN: Right so, I ended up substantively editing this one too, lol. BUT I actually JUST BARELY reached the deadline this time (if you go by EST time like I do), so I count this as a victory! Woo-hoo! This chapter's an angstfest folks so strap in!
No reviews to respond to so let's get this show on the road!
Chapter V: The Respite
In which the Edelgard of old is not buried but lost. Meanwhile, Dimitri deals with the aftermath of both his physical and emotional injury.
It had been incredibly foolish of Edelgard to confront Dimitri about his idiotically heroic behavior, but what could she say? She was…she'd been flattered. Beyond the guilt and humiliation that someone who she'd been short and avoidant of had saved her, she felt a great sense of gratitude at the thought of a stranger flinging himself before her impeding death. Truthfully, it was almost like one of those fairy tales she'd once loved as a little girl and had stopped believing in before she'd even reached adolescence. Staring at the wound that her near death experience had left her with—a deep and ferocious looking thing like a creature's maw sliced down the side of her stomach—made those conflicting feelings oh that much stronger within her.
Edelgard had refused any aid from both mercenary and Knight healers alike, fearing that they would remove her clothes and bear witness to the hideous thin scars that crisscrossed around her body. Instead she'd accepted an elixir and some bandages before stumbling her way into the woods for some privacy. Beneath the shade of a sufficiently tall and thick tree, she loosened and slowly slid her blood soaked uniform off from around her shoulders, biting her tongue against a scream as the sticky fabric pulled painfully away from the wound and left it burning hotter than before. She took a sip of the elixir and coughed around the too-sour taste, then after watching the wound close up slightly, wrapped the bandages tightly around it. With the gash now dressed, she downed the rest of the elixir and lay her head back against the tree with a sigh of relief. With the agony subsided, one thought gained prominence in Edelgard's mind.
Prince Dimitri had saved her life, and she didn't know why.
One conversation later, and she still had no clue whatsoever.
Edelgard had never been more grateful to have Hubert at her side. He'd sped walked directly to her when she'd returned to camp visibly weakened, and had scarcely left her side since. This meant that her peers couldn't descend upon her like vultures with their questions without risking a deadly glare that held a thousand dark promises: what happened? Who attacked? That's sounds so cool! Why wasn't I there? Claude was happy to provide all the answers Edelgard refused and Dimitri, carried unconscious in a cotton stretcher, was unable to.
He'd also been there to lend an ear when she ranted to him about her latest conversation with the Prince.
"He seems to believe that we have some…connection. I don't understand it at all," she huffed, glaring at the waning campfire. There was nobody around them as the students were glommed to Claude with their rapid fire queries and the knights and mercenaries were both being interrogated by an angry looking Seteth. His hands were moving rapidly and his forehead was creased deeply.
It wasn't simply the fact that Dimitri was once again assuming a relationship they didn't have that peeved her, it was the fact that he'd saved her because of those delusions. It ruined his act of heroism quite a bit, she found, seeing as he'd only done it to bolster a friendship that didn't exist. The realization hurt more than it probably should have.
Hubert hummed and looked up at the sky. It was turning a brighter shade of purple beneath the glow of the rising dawn. "I hear that the Prince of Faerghus lost his mind after the death of King Lambert."
Edelgard's head snapped towards him with wide eyes. "Truthfully?"
"It is only a rumour of course," Hubert amended. "I usually don't bother with the murmuring myths of commoners or the snickering of duplicitous nobles…but given the way he acts around you…" Hubert turned to the Healers' Tent where Manuela was entering. "I do wonder."
Edelgard hummed with a frown and returned her gaze to the fire. He didn't…act particularly insane. He was awkward, polite, and seemed no different from any of the other students. Still, it would explain his odd obsession with her—what else but madness could spur him to stare longingly at her with the familiarity of a long lost beloved, or comment on her choice of meal with warm fondness not reserved for strangers?
"Love is a maddening emotion," Her mother had told her once upon a time as Edelgard lay on her lap to have her hair combed through with gentle fingers.
But the Prince couldn't be in love withher after such a short time. Yet his lingering gazes and hesitancy around her didn't give off an air of lust, so it was clear this wasn't a spontaneous and passionate infatuation with her figure. And besides, who risked fatal injury for someone simply because they found them attractive? All of it made no sense. Prince Dimitri made no sense.
But what if…?
"Do you remember anyone special?"
Back at the Monastery, Edelgard lay on her side, staring at the vanity where the Dagger lay within. She'd thankfully been allowed to return to her room unbothered after Manuela had given her several potions and a demand to finish them all before long. Everyone, particularly the Lords, were tired and nobody wanted deal with the fallout of what had happened quite yet.
Unfortunately, despite crashing to her bed in an adrenaline depleted heap, the Prince's words from the first night returned with a vengeance, and just like then, she couldn't quite kick them out of her head.
"Do you recall ever visiting Faerghus?"
She could feel a firm hand she trusted gripping her shoulder, leading her down unfamiliar hallways in a place she'd considered home for years. "Where are we going, Uncle?"
"Once."
The scene shifted, and suddenly she was hugging her knees and crying alone in a dingy cell. A rat's squeak echoed in the darkness and she screamed before wailing louder.
"Do you remember anyone special?"
Edelgard's awoke with a gasp and shudder. She hadn't even realized she'd fallen asleep.
Saturday morning had come and gone, and afternoon sun spilled from the window as she slowly pushed herself into sitting position and caught her breath. A moment later and her eyes had fallen to the vanity once more. As if in a daze, she slowly stood from the mattress and walked towards it, running her palm over the wood of the drawer. She then opened it, and with a squeak and groan there lay the Dagger.
"No."
Her fingers brushed the blue scabbard hesitantly before wrapping around the weapon and pulling it out. She took hold of the hilt and pulled it partially from its sheath, the blade reflecting her eyes as she stared down at it.
"I see."
Was…she the mad one? Had they truly met before? After all, her mind had become riddled with holes ever since the experiments and again, Dimitri genuinely didn't appear to be completely delusional…
Shaking her head firmly in frustration she slammed the dagger against the vanity and turned to her closet for a fresher uniform. She also took out a bottle of shampoo and bar of soap each. She needed a bath—that would clear her head.
She held everything beneath the crook of her arm, and exited her room. Opposite of her, two girls paused in their conversation to gasp at her.
Edelgard tensed. She'd forgotten that she hadn't so much as glanced at a mirror after the battle—she probably looked like an absolute terror, and nowhere near the impeccable princess she usually presented. She considered dashing back into her room to at least brush her hair, but instead she gave the two students a curt nod and matched head high down the hallway. Her resolve remained firm, even as more concerned, shocked, or mocking glances were shot her way and she nearly let out a sigh of relief when she reached the platform leading to the bathhouse and went to the door marked FEMALE. It should have been empty; it was lunchtime and most everyone would be eating.
It was not.
Steam billowed out the moment Edelgard opened the door, and lounging in the warm bath just passed the shelves was the female mercenary from the night prior. Her eyes were closed and her blue hair was tied up in a bun. The amount of steam in the room and the almost boneless appearance of her body showcased that she'd been there for awhile, so she would be done soon then, surely?
Before Edelgard could leave however, the woman's wide eyes fluttered open. Edelgard couldn't tell if she was annoyed, surprised, or even embarrassed at the intrusion, for all she did was blink slowly before stating, "Hello."
"Hello," Edelgard said as she backed away awkwardly. "I'm…I didn't meant to disturb you. I'll be gone in—"
"Come," she said before closing her eyes once more.
Edelgard hesitated before deciding she didn't want to waste anymore time looking like a mess. She went to unbuckle her uniform before tentatively asking, "Do you…mind looking away?" She could feel her cheeks burning and her stomach twisting into uncomfortable knots. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten undressed in front of anyone.
Eyes still closed, the mercenary sank beneath the water and disappeared.
"I didn't mean…alright then." The water was hot and filled with soap and oils—she highly doubted the woman would be able to open her eye and peep at her beneath the water without burning them and seeing nothing but blurred shapes. With that in mind, she cleared her throat and began to undress, turning to the wall mirror and scowling at what she saw.
Her hair looked like a bird's nest covered in twigs, leaves, and all around appeared to be a clump of animal fur stolen from the ground. One of her lilac ribbons was missing, her uniform was torn, muddied and bloodied, her tights were ripped, and drool from her brief nap had dried on her face.
Eugh. Why in the world hadn't Hubert warned her?!
Sighing, she took a folded towel and wash rag from one of the shelves and dipped her toe into the water. The warmth made a pleased sigh escape her lips before she stepped in fully and sank deep into the water until only her shoulders and neck were visible. She then walked on her knees to where the mercenary had been lounging and moved her hand around in search of her submerged form. She found a shoulder and tapped it, and moments later the woman ascended from the water and returned to her previous position without even a gasp for breath.
"How long can you hold your breath for?" Edelgard asked curiously as she poured a generous amount of shampoo into her hands and smothered her hair with it.
The woman shrugged casually as she retied her now soaked hair into another messy bun.
As Edelgard continued her awkward, perpetually submerged bath in silence, she found, similar to Dimitri, that it was difficult to keep her eyes off her. It could've been attraction, but it felt a bit more like curiosity. She couldn't remember the last time someone had intrigued her so—barring, again, Dimitri she supposed.
"What is your name?" Edelgard asked finally.
"Byleth," was the response. It was fitting—fey like and soft sounding. "Yours?"
Edelgard's eyes widened and she blinked twice in shock. "You don't know who I am?"
"I assume someone important," Byleth said. "Bandits don't come out in droves for just anyone."
"But you're not sure how I'm important?" Edelgard asked.
"I don't know much about politics," Byleth supplied. She stretched her arms back and popped her back with a groan and then sigh. "My father deals with the nobles. I simply help complete the job."
"I see, so this Jeralt is your father?"
"Yes."
Edelgard nodded slowly to herself as she digested this. She supposed a mercenary would have no reason to care about the realm of high of society given their usual nomadic and unbiased natures—even if it involved someone as high ranking as the Emperor.
"You didn't tell me your name."
"Oh," Edelgard jolted in realization and turned back to her with as regal a nod as she could muster with her hair a stringy mess around her face and her neck the only thing visible within the sudsy water. "I'm Edelgard von Hresvelg, heir apparent to the Adrestian Empire."
"I like Adrestia. It's pretty."
Edelgard's polite smile brighten as she swelled with pride. "But of course, our lands have been rich with minerals for generations and we use only the best in our architecture. The other countries pale in comparison to its beauty."
Byleth hummed but didn't state whether she agreed with that statement or not. Her expression was as unreadable as before. "That's quite the scar," she said instead.
Her smile disappeared immediately, and she moved away from the mercenary with a violent slosh of water. "Scar?" She repeated.
"You reached over to grab your rag at one point and I saw it."
The water had suddenly lost all warmth. Shivering, Edelgard submerged her head to remove the last of the shampoo before snatching up her towel and pushing herself out of the water. "Childhood accident. Everyone gets them. Falling off trees, sparring too hard, those things," she said in a rush.
"Oh. I thought it was from the bandit leader."
Edelgard paused in her rapid toweling to look up and frown at Byleth. "Pardon?"
"That scar across your belly. Wasn't it from the bandit leader?"
Edelgard moved the towel away to reveal the scar in question. It was still so stark and thick that it made the thin spiderwebs around the rest of her body look nigh invisible. Byleth must not have noticed them.
"Oh," Edelgard said, and her limbs slumped in relief. "Yes. Yes it was from the bandit leader. It'll heal soon, hopefully."
"Are you scared of scars?" Byleth asked, staring unblinkingly as Edelgard tightly wrapped the towel around her body.
"Pardon?" Edelgard repeated as she made a tight knot between her breasts.
"You were scared just now, when I asked about it. Like a deer sensing a hunter. Why?" Edelgard couldn't gleam the intentions of asking such a question, Byleth was still looking at her blankly, and the intrigue she felt before quickly soured into discomfort.
Edelgard slipped with a squeak on her way to the front of the bathhouse and barely toweled herself off before she was shoving on her clothes without a care in the world. She felt her new pair of tights rip slightly at the force but she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment.
"Have a good day," she said without looking back and scooped up her old clothes into the nearby hamper. She left the bathhouse in a rush as images of bird faced men and needles and knives and—
She hugged herself once before dropping her arms and adding more speed to her walk. She hated being here. She hated it. And it was all because—
"Do—"
Edelgard allowed the barest of screams out from behind gnashed teeth as she threw open her bedroom door and slammed it shut with her back. "Stop," she whispered to nobody as she sank to the floor. "Please stop, please stop, please…" but the visions continued. The scent of blood and unnamed chemicals burned her nose, the room chilled, light flickered in and out of existence unnaturally—
Edelgard lunged beneath her bed and pulled out her trunk. She dug her hand beneath layers of fabric before pulling out the potion she'd been aiming for, ripping the cap off with her teeth and pouring it down her throat. It was thick, syrupy, and overly sweet but she downed the whole thing until her head was filled with cotton and her eyes were drooped with weariness. She closed her eyes and let out a breath of relief before pulling herself onto the mattress and falling into a fetal position.
Her last sight was the Dagger glinting from the vanity table
-o0o-
"I'm sure all of you have heard by now but it stands to be repeated in case you haven't—Professor Dedrick of the Golden Deer House will no longer be teaching here," Seteth said Monday morning during assembly. Hushed conversation immediately started up.
Dimitri stifled a yawn and frowned from his seat. "I wonder why?" he murmured out loud.
"You can't truly be serious, Your Highness," Ingrid hissed in indignation as she leaned towards him with a frown of her own. "He left you…mercy of a bandit hoard! All…died." Dimitri had no idea what she'd just said.
"Not to…kinda a terrible Professor," Sylvain added from somewhere far, far, far away. Underwater, perhaps.
"Which fool here isn't?" Felix snarked a bit closer.
"Hanneman isn't…just a little dry," Sylvain said, and Felix scoffed.
"Your Highness," Dedue said gently at his left. He gave him the barest of nudges and Dimitri jerked back up with a gasp.
"Wha—" he slurred, squinting blearily around at his surroundings. He hadn't even realized he'd nodded off.
"You'd think not being allowed to train would make you less tired," Sylvain said half-teasingly and half-concernedly. "What's going on with you?"
A training ban did not mean he could truly rest, sadly. If he couldn't strengthen his body, then he had to do the next best thing to serve his family and that was study.
Plenty, and plenty of study.
Dimitri forced a smile. "I'm fine, Sylvain." A toddler wouldn't believe him.
Seteth finally put an end to the chatter with a raised hand. Once the murmuring had subsided, he continued in a steely voice, "Professor Dedrick has chosen to abandon three of our students in a time of dire need, and has yet to be located. However if he values his life, he would do well to never emerge from those woods ever again." Sylvain whistled at the threat, then with a face barely less agitated, Seteth turned and gestured behind him. "Taking his place as Professor of the Golden Deer is Byleth Eisner, one of the mercenaries who bravely defended House Leaders Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude when Dedrick Kipling could not. I ask that you welcome her kindly."
Applause filled the room and Sylvain whistled again, this time in appreciation as his eyes roamed up and down the new professor's body. He let out a hiss after Ingrid jabbed him sharply in the ribs and pointedly ignored Dimitri's warning glower. The woman in question stared blankly at the audience in a manner that was similar to Professor Jeritza but not quite. Jeritza seemed perpetually bored and disappointed with everything happening all around him. Byleth appeared to be…he knew it made no sense, but Byleth seemed to have no emotions at all.
It was uncanny, but at the moment Dimitri felt he could relate. In this half-awake state between the land of the living and the land of his family, he felt more like a shell than ever before.
"There will be no tactics class today to allow the new professor to settle in," Rhea took over then, looking far more happy with this event than Seteth. "In addition, all classes will be canceled to allow your House Leaders some much needed extra rest from their perilous battle on Friday—"
"—as well as to vet if the professors we currently have are as unfit to teach, guide, and protect you as Dedrick was," Seteth cut in.
Rhea's face fell very briefly for what could have been a disapproving frown before she brightened once more. "Indeed, Seteth," she said smoothly. From behind the two, Manuela's eyes widened and she quickly recapped the flask that she'd been intent on chugging down. She didn't even protest when Hanneman snatched it from her hands and stashed it within his robes.
"Now that we have that out of the way, please enjoy your breakfast and the rest of your day. May the Goddess smile on you all." Rhea bowed and the students erupted into cheers as dozens immediately dashed from their seats to take advantage of the unexpectedly free day.
"Wait just a moment!" Seteth's voice snapped like a whip, halting any and all movement. "No classes does not mean no chores. Check the notice board the moment you've finished eating and see what you have to do."
Groans filled the Cathedral and the crowd of students moved far more sluggishly.
"Boar." Dimitri jerked his head over his shoulder and nearly stumbled in his haste to turn around and face Felix properly. Dedue caught him and made an agitated noise at Felix's familiar insulting name for him but said nothing else.
"Felix?" Dimitri prompted. He didn't know what he was hoping for, but hope certainly fluttered within his chest as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and offered the strongest smile he could muster.
Felix regarded him with crossed arms as he looked him up and down. Then he said, "Did Manuela give you the go ahead to train again yet?"
Dimitri frowned. "I'm afraid not." He placed a hand over the wound at his side, still aching even after three days, several spells, and so many elixirs it made his head foggy. He was itching to get back into the arena as his muscles felt tight with disuse and he could hear his family hissing at the edges of his senses, growing steadily more impatient despite his increased study time. Even if he did have the go ahead, however, he doubted his body would be able to take it.
Felix harrumphed and brushed passed him without another word.
"Oh! But—Felix wait a moment—I have another check up due before breakfast so perhaps tomorrow we could…" his voice trailed off as Felix continued onwards without a single glance back. Dimitri's shoulders slumped. "…not."
"I do not understand why you desire his company so, Your Highness," Dedue said with a frown. "He treats you terribly."
Dimitri smiled sadly at Dedue and squeezed his shoulder. "You will find, Dedue, that love doesn't disappear after a few hurled insults. Now, I should leave now if I want to get to the Infirmary in good time. Perhaps Manuela will give me the go ahead today." And more importantly, her magic usually aided in returning some of the missed rest he'd had.
But once he did reach the infirmary, Manuela was nowhere insight. All that remained within the empty cot filled room was a narrow eyed Glenn. At least…he was sure his eyes were narrowed. Glenn's expressions were harder to gauge than Lambert and Patricia due to the fact that his face was a mess of exposed muscle and charred skin with only a clump of hair remaining on his burnt scalp. "How long will you be using that small little injury as an excuse to laze about."
Dimitri stumbled backwards as he shook his head. "Glenn please I—"
"Prince Dimitri!"
Dimitri cried out and whirled to his left, the motion causing him to stagger backwards against a cot and disturb his wound. He let out a pained groan as the small face gasped and cried, "I'm so sorry!" Her small hands gripped his shoulders and gently lead him into a sitting position. Once Dimitri's blurred vision had come into focus, he could see a sprite like girl with sea-foam green twin tails sporting a dark mutton sleeved dress. A clipboard was held in one hand while she used the other to brush away his sweaty bangs. "Oh, you look terrible!"
"I…yes I know," his gaze went passed her and to where Glenn had been standing but he didn't reappear. Yet. "Is Professor Manuela on her way?"
"Unfortunately not," the girl said as she stepped back and looked down at the clipboard. "My brother is vetting her and the other professors to ensure they don't leave students to die by the hand of bandits again." She pulled the clipboard away to beam at him. "Alas, with her preoccupied, I will happily be of service to you." She spun on her heel towards the cabinets, checking and re-checking the clipboard all the while as she went back to singing to herself.
"Your broth…? Ah. You're Seteth's sister, Flayn are you not?" Dimitri said in realization as his weary weak fingers removed his armour and uniform top as he always did during checkups. "I had no idea you were—" he paused to grunt in pain as his wound shifted with his movement. "—a physician."
"I'm not officially a physician," Flayn responded as she found the potion she was looking for and swirled it around with a smile. "But I am good with healing magic so Brother allowed me to take over your—oh!" Flayn turned back around and immediately jumped. Her eyes widened comically before darting to the left, followed by a rapid reddening of her cheeks.
"What's the matter?" Dimitri asked worriedly as he looked down at his bandages. "Did the wound reopen?" He had stumbled a lot.
"N-no," Flayn said. She met his gaze again but dropped it quickly. "I just…I've never seen a man naked before."
Dimitri's eyes widened as he blinked twice. "But I'm not naked."
Flayn's face burned redder. "I've never seen one's bare chest either."
"Oh," Dimitri said dumbly, and looked around the room in equal embarrassment. "Um…would you like me to…put my shirt back on?"
"I wouldn't be able to properly tend to the wound that way," Flayn mumbled, still staring at her boots.
"Well I could put it on and lift the hem up—"
"No! That would be even worse!" Flayn squeaked. She turned away swiftly, hugging herself and murmuring rapidly under her breath.
Dimitri leaned to the side to try and gauge her face before leaning back again and querying, "Would you like me to—"
"No, no, no." She said in calmer voice. With a deep breath, Flayn turned around with her eyes closed and let out a deep sigh of relief. "Okay. Okay. I'm alright now that the shock has warn off." She opened her eyes and they darted off again as her cheeks turned pink, then she took in another deep breath before striding forwards to get to work.
"Alright, take this," she handed Dimitri the potion as she went to undressing the wound with as much distance from his body as she could possibly manage while doing so. "How do you feel?"
"There's some pain when I move in certain ways but otherwise I—" Flayn's gasp cut him off. She backed away with the bandages in hand and eyed the wound in horror. Her blush was long gone now.
"How in the Goddess's name did you get such a wound?" she cried. In all fairness, it was a hideous wound. Its broad width snaked around his back and towards his abdomen where it stood in stark, violent contrast to his pale flesh, and though it wasn't bleeding, it still looked wet with the threat of doing so. Bordering the river of constant pain were crusted dark crimson and sickly yellow scabbing that couldn't quite manage to cover the gash yet.
"Well, first it was an arrow," Dimitri said sheepishly before yawning into his fist. "Then a…ah, giant axe wielded by a determined man went and widened it to an agonizing degree."
"Oh," Flayn breathed. Her brows were furrowed tightly and her eyes swam with concern. "Oh dear. I feel this sort of wound would have killed anyone else."
Dimitri nodded solemnly, trying and failing not to think about how close that very swing had gotten to Edelgard's neck. She was safe now, but though she disdained him, the thought of her death hurt far more than the wound he'd earned to ensure she still breathed. "Yes, my Crest makes me a bit more durable than most. Not as much as some others, but enough to save my life."
Flayn raised her hands before his stomach and within moments her palms had become filled with bright white light. She pressed them to the wound and Dimitri sighed at the sensation. It was similar to Manuela and Edelgard's magic—cool and soothing like a cold compress on a burn—but far more potent. It felt as if waves were lapping at his flesh and gently coaxing it to knit back together. In addition, he felt energy seeping back into his bones and massaging out all the hidden knots plaguing his muscles. Some weariness still remained, but at least he could get through his next study session without nodding off and stumbling around like a drunkard.
"A Crest of Seiros holder wouldn't have survived this," Flayn said quietly as she watched the wound darken slowly into a scab.
Dimitri squeezed his eyes closed as the scene from Friday night replayed in his head once more. The axe hitting the moonlight, inches away from biting into Edelgard's neck—
"No," Dimitri agreed softly.
"Am I hurting you?"
Dimitri opened his eyes and smiled wanly down at the concerned looking girl. "No. I…it was simply a terrifying night is all."
Flayn nodded in agreement before turning back to the wound. "It truly is a blessing that you were able to save her."
"Yes, I don't—wait, how did—?"
"Oh, is it not true?" Flayn asked, looking up at him again. "Claude tells us you flung yourself before the bandit leader and saved Princess Edelgard's life."
Dimitri opened and closed his mouth before looking away. "It…is true," he admitted but he hadn't wanted the whole blasted Monastery to know about it! It felt oddly private to him, though he couldn't quite pinpoint why it was the truth.
"It was very chivalrous of you," Flayn said brightly as she pulled away and shook her hands to stop them from glowing. "And look! You're getting better."
Dimitri glanced down at his wound to find it far more scabbed than before. It would seem Flayn truly was wonderful at her craft—healing spells could only be used so long before becoming detrimental to the wounded party due to an excess of magic, making wounds as serious as his slow going to heal. Even in the short burst Flayn had used however, he felt he'd gotten further with his healing journey than he had in his prior sessions.
"Thank you very much, Flayn," Dimitri said as he put his shirt and armour back on. "I believe you've sped up my healing by quite a bit."
Flayn batted a hand through the air but smiled happily as she blushed once more. "It was nothing, really. Thank you for forcing my brother to get me to do something stimulating."
"What do you mean by that?" Dimitri asked as he slid off the cot and rolled his shoulders a bit. He was pleased to find that the motion didn't hurt his wound as much as he predicted it would.
Flayn sighed dramatically and crossed her arms. "He's incredibly protective of me to the point of madness and it is incredibly frustrating to live with."
"Don't be too hard on him," Dimitri said. "It could be worse." She could have someone like Rufus who cared about Dimitri to the barest of minimums so as to avoid scandal and uproar.
Flayn sighed again. "I suppose."
"Would it be wishful thinking to ask if I'm able to train again?"
Flayn returned to the clipboard waiting on one of the tables and flipped to the end. "Mmm. It says here 'absolutely no training until absolutely healed.'"
It was Dimitri's turn to sigh. Glenn harrumphed from somewhere nearby and Dimitri felt weariness settle over his being all over again.
-o0o-
The Flame Emperor's mask was discarded with a pneumatic hiss and click before Edelgard tossed it atop the bed. She removed the other armour pieces as well, and once she'd locked everything in the trunk, sat atop her bed and buried her face in her hands.
She was so tired.
She'd located Kostas tonight. She'd found him in the same remote, seedy place he and his gang had been last time, but this time they were far more subdued. They were slumped over tables, swirling their drinks with glazed eyes or fiddling awkwardly with their weaponry. They all jumped in fear when Edelgard entered the room in her imposing armour.
"You!" Kostas barked as he shoved up from the table he was sitting at and stormed towards her.
Well, most of them.
"You screwed us over your dammed bastard!" Kostas continued. He aimed a punch for Edelgard's face and she caught his fist. She couldn't deny the twinge of satisfaction she felt when she squeezed it tightly and he cried out in pain. She was certain whatever he felt paled in comparison to what Edelgard had, weak and helpless in those woods.
Edelgard shoved him backwards. He crashed into a table, knocking it over. The patrons who were using it shot to their feet and made noises of annoyance as their drinks splashed onto the wooden floorboards. "Am I to assume you failed then?"
"It wasn't our fault!" Kostas yelled as he pushed up to his feet again. "Those brats had weapons and the damn Knights of Seiros nearby!"
Murmuring started up throughout the tavern. Gamblers looked up from their cards, bartenders paused in their table wiping, and patrons froze their drinks inches from their lips. Panicked hissing of "Knights of Seiros" reverberated around the cramped area.
"I told you not to underestimate them. You disobeyed. You've let me down and you will now suffer the consequence of your own arrogance. I've only come to tell you not to contact me again." And with that, Edelgard turned on her heel and left. Eyes followed her massive form, and the glasses rattled with every heavy footstep.
"No!" Kostas yelled. Edelgard hissed in annoyance but continued onwards towards the door. "Come back here! Help fix this!" panic cracked his voice and Edelgard felt that sting of satisfaction return.
Edelgard looked over her shoulder slowly as she opened the door with one hand. "Goodbye, Kostas," she said before exiting and slamming the door shut. She could hear a muffled scream of him cursing her name as she left the warm glow of the tavern and entered the neighboring woods.
Standing by the tree-line was a familiar face.
"Enjoying your gift?" Arundel asked with that languid smirk of his. In the half light, his eyes pierced through the darkness almost sinisterly, and his dark hair blowing in the wind gave the appearance of a shifting, inky shadow.
Edelgard loathed the sudden stab of fear she felt at the sight of him and his billowing robes.
"I told Solon I found this plan to be foolish. It's failure does not rest on my shoulders."
Arundel chuckled loudly and shook his head. "Oh calm down, I have no interest in punishing you."
However, she loathed the feeling of relief that washed over her at that statement even more.
"What I find curious however is how this plan of ours has been foiled so thoroughly by dumb luck of all things. Stumbling across a random village filled with mercenaries! I'd be angry if it wasn't so dammed comical. If I didn't know any better I'd assume Sothis herself was acting against us." Arundel chuckled again as Edelgard scowled beneath the mask.
"Our?" she repeated.
"You set things in motion, of course," Arundel said. "But I knew Kostas needed more numbers and insurance so that he wouldn't die too early. Thus without his pea brained knowledge, I stepped in aided him, and by extension you." He tilted his head to the side and added, "You're welcome, by the way."
Edelgard's mind immediately flashed to his magically repairing skin during their battle and her frown deepened. "What did you do to him?"
Arundel scoffed. "You care what happens to that waste of DNA? Please. Don't trouble yourself with him, he'll be dead before long if Rhea has anything to say about it—or he gets hit with…a spontaneous heart-attack. Whichever one comes first I suppose."
Edelgard didn't even bother pressing him on what he meant by "spontaneous heart-attack" and she could hazard a guess it had something to with his odd healing powers anyway. She had positively zero love for Kostas, but the thought of another human being subjected to his madness—even on a lesser more discreet scale, apparently—made Edelgard feel queasy.
Her queasiness multiplied when Arundel said, "Stir up something new."
"What?" Edelgard demanded.
"If those heir brats live to see Garreg Mach fall, so be it," Arundel said with a shrug. "But to have them dead before so, would be far more ideal."
"Why?" Edelgard said. "It will only cause immense—"
"Chaos is where we thrive best," Arundel cut her off before turning on his heel and walking away. "Do ensure to remember that."
Edelgard scoffed. "You all sound the same."
"Great minds tend to think alike," Arundel called without turning around. "Perhaps you should catch up." And with that, he was gone in a flash of magenta light.
Now, Edelgard was back in her room wondering what the hell she was going to do now.
She inhaled and exhaled shakily as she ran her hands down her face before shoving herself to her feet and marching towards the door. She paused by the vanity where the Dagger lay, and after brief contemplation, left it there as she exited.
The moment she left the common rooms, her mood greatly elevated. She smiled at the moon as the wind carded through her hair and pleasantly chilled her skin. She could taste summertime on the horizon, and was greatly eager for the longer hours of sunshine.
She made her way towards the Fishing Pond where she hoped to stand upon the Mess Hall landing and watch the moon reflect onto the water. Instead, she found a familiar silhouette leaning against the cobblestone railing already.
Edelgard sighed heavily. She simply couldn't catch a break, could she?
Still…she hadn't exactly liked the way their conversation had ended last time, and he still owed her a proper explanation.
…she also still wanted to see the pond from high up, and a potentially awkward conversation wasn't going to take that away from her.
As she climbed the steps, she found that Dimitri had his forehead pressed against the top of his clenched fists and he was shaking. She couldn't tell if he was crying or not, though she guessed the latter seeing as how she saw no tears glinting on his cheeks.
Stepping behind him, Edelgard cleared her throat lightly. Prince Dimitri jumped as if she'd screamed directly into his ear and whirled around with wide panicked eyes. They were bloodshot, and the bags beneath them looked as if they'd been weighed down by boulders. His bangs were also bent oddly and sticking up in different angles.
"Oh," he breathed, shoulders slumping in relief. "It's you."
"Good night," Edelgard responded.
Dimitri nodded. "Good night." He said no more, and his lips were curved into an almost painful smile as he waited for her to make the next move.
"How is your injury?"
Dimitri winced and closed his eyes. "Terrible." He whispered. "I haven't been able to train per Manuela's orders. The one time I did only lengthened the healing process." He sounded genuinely distraught over the fact for reasons Edelgard couldn't understand.
"That night, with the bandits," he continued as he turned his back to her once more. "I know I overstepped again. I'm sorry."
Edelgard sighed and stepped forwards to meet him at the wall. "You confound me, Dimitri," she admitted. "I don't understand why you treat me as if we've known each other before now, and I'd appreciate an explanation." One that didn't include actual delusions, preferably.
Dimitri turned to her with that same half-hurt half-incredulous furrow to his brow as he scanned her face with his weary blue eyes. Moments later, something like understanding flashed in his eyes.
"Do you…?" He bit his lip before asking, "Edelgard, do you truly remember Faerghus?"
"I told you I did, did I not?" She asked somewhat tersely. Oh here it went again…
"But not me."
"I've never met you before this month, as I just—"
Dimitri exploded with laughter and Edelgard startled backwards. The Prince hugged himself tightly as his body quaked with raspy choked wheezes that sounded horrible to the ears. "I'm sorry," he gasped as he turned to her again. His lips had turned up into a trembling smile andhis eyes were watering. "I'm sorry I…you must think me mad but…" he shook his head. "All this time I assumed you'd grown to hate me but…I am a stranger to you. A stranger acting in ways you can't understand because you don't know me. Not in the metaphorical sense but truly."
Edelgard blinked slowly at him. "…I could have sworn we'd established this—"
"No," Dimitri shook his head firmly and took her hands before she could do anything. "You…you don't remember me." Edelgard didn't answer, but something in her gaze must've sufficed for Dimitri as he let her hands go and stepped backwards with another laugh, softer this time. "You don't hate me, you simply don't remember. You're not buried at all your simply lost!"
"What are you prattling on about?" Edelgard demanded with crossed arms. Perhaps this was a bad idea after all. "What do you mean I'm lost? I'd think I would remember—"
"Edelgard," Dimitri cut her off. "Forgive me for speaking over you but I…you don't know how relieved I feel."
"I see," she responded, eyeing him up and down before taking a step back away from him. "I'm thankful I could help you reach whatever epiphany you had but whoever you're speaking of—"
"You don't hate me," he repeated with yet another laugh. He wiped at his eye with a shaking finger. "You don't hate me I…" his voice trailed off suddenly as he watched her. Slowly, his ecstatic face mellowed out and he blinked several times before shaking his head and returning his gaze to the water. "I'm grateful that I've come to realize that. It's a weight off my shoulders." He gave her a side ways glance and a tragic smile to accompany it. "I can let you go now, I believe. You won't have me bothering you again."
Edelgard watched him for a moment in contemplation. She was even more confused than before, but apart of her perked up at his words like a dying daisy drinking water, her hand falling to the place where her dagger should've been.
"Do you remember—"
None of that mattered, though—chasing ghosts and possibilities wasn't what she wanted from this conversation. And it was something she didn't need as Saturday had made sure to remind her. To go rummaging too far back into her mind would only lead to horror.
"It's too late now," Edelgard stated simply as she joined him once more at the railing. She leaned against it and met his next sideways glance—this one of confusion—with a pair of raised eyebrows. "You saved my life. My conscience won't allow me to continue on as if you don't exist."
Dimitri shook his head once more. "I didn't save you hoping for something in return. I was half certain I would die that night."
"Still, it's not an act I take lightly," she said. "Once again, thank you. Thank you for saving my life despite…everything. I'll resolve to be less hostile towards you but—" her gaze became hardened now. "—you need to get in your head that whatever girl you see when you look at me isn't me." She used that resolve on herself as well, stomping on all the childish "what-ifs" and "maybe"s that plagued her mind when he was around. "You're no memory of mine, and I'm not your lost love—romantically or platonically, understood?"
Dimitri smiled sadly and nodded. His voice quivered as he said, "I know."
Edelgard's eyes softened and turned her gaze away from those sad, sad eyes. "Whoever she is, I'm sorry you lost her. She clearly made you happy." As Mother had said, love had drove him to some semblance of madness as it did most.
"Thank you," Dimitri said. His voice was thick with tears, and the two stood in companionable silence as the moon rose over the Fishing Pond.
AN: AYE! It took five chapters and over 40k words, but El and Di are finally where they were at the beginning of the OG fic, yay! For a bit, it'll be uphill from here so enjoy the incoming Dimigard fluff in future chapters :D
That's it for me, this girl needs to go to bed lmao.
Fantasy Fan OUT!