Genres/Ratings: Tragedy, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Confrontation. (T)

Characters: Warin, Dimitri, Rodrigue.

Summary: The moment the word had spread throughout the monastery that his sister's condition had finally stabilized, Warin had left the halls surrounding the infirmary and began his watch at the exits of the great monastery. His sister's health was in the hands of the healers, of Manuela, Dorothea and Mercedes, and no amount of his concern and fright would help her now. He could do nothing but fret at her side, which was a waste of both time and effort. This, however... His vigil in silence, waiting for what he knew was to come now that the worry was over, and that immediate sense of guilt and fright and shame was assuaged... Warin sat quiet and stoic in the dark and the coming rain, knowing the prince of the Kingdom would soon come his way, and he was ready, long, long ready, to finally meet him.

Harpstring Moon

Garreg Mach Stables

Late Night

Warin sat quiet on a crate, half-hidden by the edges of the stables as he listened intently to the quiet patter of the rain outside that was slowly growing in strength and speed. It was as if the monastery itself was weeping, as many of its students had been for the past several days until, finally, Professor Manuela had emerged from the infirmary, her clothes bloodstained and her expression haggard to announce that their beloved professor was finally stable from the wounds she had suffered in Grondor. Though the exact circumstances of what had happened to her had not been seen by many, the word had spread quickly when all had come to see her laying in a pool of her own blood on the ground in front of a frozen and silent Dimitri, while Rodrigue worked in a silent panic in a desperate attempt to stem the flow of blood and stop her from dying at their feet.

Mercedes had broken rank first at the sight of her beloved professor despite the initial wave of shock that had kept everyone still, and her quick thinking and immediate use of magic had likely been what had saved the woman's life. At the very least, she, with the help of Annette, had managed to stabilize Raine's condition enough to move her from Grondor, and eventually back to the safety of Garreg Mach, but it had been a tense few days since, as everyone waited in terrified silence for the healers to emerge from the infirmary with news of her condition, be it good.. or ill. The monastery's healers had done their work well, though it had left them all exhausted and sick from the effort, and now Raine lay silent and inert in one of the many infirmary cots as the magic did its work to heal her wounds.

Warin wasn't entirely sure who it was that had made the decision to put his sister into a magically-induced coma, but he had not argued when the specifics of her treatment had been explained to him. His sister had already been on the cusp of physical and mental collapse, and her latest collection of injuries from the battle at Grondor had almost been the death of her. She needed time, time that she would not willingly take if she was permitted to be conscious, and so Mercedes, Dorothea, and Manuela had put their magic together and sunk Raine into a deep, harmless sleep that would allow for their magic to work its way entirely through her body until she was well again. They would wake her when they deemed it proper, and knowing their expertise was far beyond his own, Warin had consented when he had been asked if they could go along with their plan to heal his sister to their satisfaction.

Now... He was waiting as the fallout of the situation began to spread. There were already angry whispers in the corners of the hall, mutterings and curses, but few of them were accurate, and even fewer came from a place of knowledge. No one but Rodrigue and Dimitri had truly known what had happened in the field, and neither man was speaking. But it did not take much to put two and two together, and for her students especially, guessing at what had taken place that day was not difficult. They all knew their professor had put her life on the line for the future king of Faerghus, and had almost lost her own in the process. And when Dimitri had withdrawn from them all, refusing to leave his quarters to speak to anyone, not even to check on her condition... A flame had been lit underneath the Blue Lions, and tempers had flared all about the monastery.

Still, Warin didn't much care for them, and he was not about to wait for the mob mentality to fall upon the prince's head. He knew for a fact the prince would not wait for it either, which was why he had come outside rather than retreat to his own quarters where his bed, his belongings, and Shamir would all be to provide rest and comfort. He did not need those things, not yet at least, because one last thing had to be dealt with before he would allow for it. He knew a coward when he saw one, just as he knew a man eager to escape his sins. Dimitri was exactly that type of man after he had seen someone else spill blood for him, and it was only a matter of time now before the guilt, before the shame, spurred him into movement now that word had spread that Raine had somehow survived her trial and was only in need of time before she would be well enough again.

He crossed his arms, pressing his back against the firm oak of the stables as that horrid memory of realization played itself over and over again in his mind's eye. He had been with Claude at the time, discussing the finer details of the truce that they needed to arrange between the forces of the Alliance and the Kingdom, before he had felt that familiar icy claw close around his heart. Everything else had been forgotten in a moment, and without a word to Claude or to Shamir, he had turned on his heel and ran, following the cold and the fear, knowing already where it would lead him, but needing to see it all the same...

... and there his sister had been, face-down in a pool of her own blood with a dagger cast aside from where it had been plunged in her back as Rodrigue worked feverishly over her in a desperate attempt to save her life. He had been reduced to a mute, shaking mess, unable to react, unable to even think past the horror of what he was seeing, and he cursed himself for all he knew, and all he did not, because he had been useless when his sister had needed him most. He didn't need to see more than a frozen and shell-shocked Dimitri to know what had happened, nor did he need Rodrigue's confused questioning of how she had moved so fast, how she had reacted before he had, as he knew the whole truth. Raine had done it again, turning back the hands of time to perform a sacrifice she had sworn to never do again in order to save a man who had threatened her life more times than either of them could count.

Her broken promise hadn't mattered then, and did not matter now, and he promised himself he would deal with it when she woke and was both physically and mentally capable of having such a conversation. She would be taken to task for it later, but for now... The prince was his more pressing concern. And as he heard heavy footsteps approaching through the downpour, he knew his patience had been rewarded. He stood smoothly from where he had been hiding, pushing aside the door to the stables before he stepped out into the rain and into the way of the prince, and he barred his path forward and out of the monastery before addressing him with a cold, curt, "Are you going somewhere, perchance, prince?"

"Get out of my way."

Warin's lips quirked into a cold, cruel smile at the order he had no intention of following, and he stood tall, arms crossed over his chest as he did not move an inch. He didn't care for the man's harsh, commanding tone, nor did he fear the broad, blood-stained Hero's Relic he carried and wielded with such ease and strength. They were trifles and trinkets, marks of a noble's bloodline and Crest, and they were worthless to a man like him. He met Dimitri's unflinching stare with his own, feeling the itch on his thumbs to press the triggers on his gauntlets, but the time for violence hadn't yet come, and he put a tight leash on his anger as he instead continued on in a deceptively calm voice, "I think not. Where exactly are you heading to? Enbarr? Are you hoping some suicidal charge straight into the Imperial capital will somehow appease the dead?"

"Silence. You have no idea of what you speak of." Dimitri's tone was as sharp as the lance he held in his trembling right hand, but yet Warin showed not an ounce of fear in reply to him. Rather, he showed nothing but a seething sort of contempt, and Dimitri felt his own temper eager to rise to the challenge. It had always been him, his professor's beloved brother, who had showed him no respect, no fear, nothing but scorn and hatred ever since he had returned to Garreg Mach, and Dimitri had to wonder how long it had been that he had been waiting for this confrontation, and if he was going to savour it now that the time had come. "Death is the end. No matter how much lingering regret a person has, after death, they are powerless. They cannot even wish for revenge, let alone seek it out. Hatred... Regret... Those burdens fall onto the shoulders of the living."

"And?" Warin tilted his head, not bothering to disguise his contempt to the words he knew had shaken Dimitri to his soul. They had no effect on him. Death had been a way of life since he had been a child, and he did not feel the weight of regret or remorse as Dimitri spoke of. It was true enough his mother's death had drove him mad as a boy, had been a nagging poison in his chest for the majority of his life, but even he had not permitted her death to drive him to lose sight of what he had in his reach now. To focus only on the dead, to ignore the living, was simple folly. "If the dead are dead, and cannot even wish for revenge, what in the seven hells are you attempting to accomplish now? They don't hate. They don't regret. They're dead. What was it you told Rodrigue... Using your lips to put words into the mouths of the dead... Is that not what you're doing with your actions? They're an excuse for your hatred and your own regret and remorse. What you do, you do for yourself, not for them."

"That's the logic of the living, and it is meaningless. You know nothing. Those who died with lingering regret and remorse... They cling to me. They will never release their hold on me. So I shall continue down this path. It is too late for me to stop." Dimitri brushed aside the words that pierced him like the cold of the rain, but he could not meet that solid navy stare that also pierced him through like a swordstroke. Unlike Felix, unlike Rodrigue, Warin was as much of a beast as he was, and he was unafraid of him and his madness. He would stand toe to toe with him, with none of his sister's gentleness or her attempts to understand, and he had no time for him or his venom. He needed to continue on. To move forward... He did not know what else he could do with himself if he did not. "Where I go, and what I do... It does not concern you. Move aside... You shall be moved if you will not."

"The logic of the living is meaningless, is it? So my sister's actions have no weight on you? Was her sacrifice meaningless too, simply because she lived?" Warin felt a plume of rage make itself known deep in his stomach, and his hands tightened until his fingers became numb as he fought against all sense to unsheathe the blades on his gauntlets and strike a blow for the man in front of him. He could hardly believe the words he was hearing, even though he knew full well this is what he had been preparing himself for. Dimitri was beyond his reason and his reach, but it did not mean that he would permit him to leave so easily, and especially unchallenged. He forced his face into Dimitri's view, his lips curled back into a scowl of scorn as he continued acidly, "So then, she failed. Again. Just as she's been failing ever since you dragged your arse back here, spouting suicidal nonsense of vengeance and ghosts and regrets. If she had died in Grondor, perhaps you'd be hearing her voice now, calling you for the fool you are, because the voices of the living hold no sway over you. Is that the way of it?"

"You dare-"

"Oh yes, princeling, I dare. I dare do things no one else will because they either fear you, or hate you too much to try and reason with you. My sister loved you, and so she enabled you, but I have no such feelings in me." Warin snarled, and as Dimitri stepped forward threateningly, Warin met him step for step. His hands were trembling now at his side as he held back the urge to start swinging, but it was becoming more and more difficult to restrain himself when Dimitri met his words with such disdain and dismissal. "Don't you look at me with rage in your eye for my sister. As if you care. As if you feel anything for her. She lives, does she not? You don't care for the living. You've said so many a time. The only thing that sways you is the dead. Raine still breathes... so you don't care for her. Tell me otherwise, princeling. Tell me you care for her. Tell me her words or actions reached you, when everything you've done, and everything I've seen, tells me it's not so. Tell me, damn you, or I'll do the princess' job for you and let you see all of those beloved corpses of yours that you cannot wait to join! You won't need to travel to Enbarr to die, I'll end you right where you stand!"

"Enough, the two of you!"

Rodrigue's voice broke through just as Dimitri's twitching hands began to raise his lance, and he strode forward fearlessly to place himself between the two young men before violence could break out. He knew both were strong and stubborn soldiers, and the last thing they needed when their only calming voice of reason was in no condition to leash them was a fight to break out. Both looked enraged enough to fight to the death, though despite the topic at hand, he almost could not blame them. Still, he interceded as he knew he must when he had first heard their raised voices not far from the Knights' Hall, and he spoke firmly, fiercely as he looked to both of them, "That is more than enough. You will solve nothing through this endless argument of yours, and even less through violence. What matters most at the moment is Raine's well-being. Knowing the two of you are at each other's throats... How would she react if she could see you now?"

Dimitri looked away in silence, but Warin instead looked sharply to Rodrigue in reproach at hearing his sister's name on the man's lips. It did not help that he knew what Rodrigue did not, that his sister had taken his place in defending Dimitri and in doing so had likely spared his life as well as his lord's, but he knew that was not information he could lightly tell. Yet... He also knew Rodrigue was wise, and he had sensed something off had happened in Grondor. He had expected to be the one to die in Dimitri's place, and Raine's intervention had stunned and caught him off guard. He knew, instinctively at the very least, that he owed Raine more than Dimitri's life. It was that and that alone that gave Warin pause, but his voice was still cold and sharp as he replied, "I know my sister well enough, Rodrigue, and I haven't lost my sense yet. But you know the same can't be said for him. Talk sense into the fool, before I, or someone else, loses patience and decides to beat it into him."

Rodrigue shook his head as he watched Warin stalk off without another word, but a dark, saddened part of him was well aware that the young mercenary was speaking the truth. He had heard the dark mutters, and seen the accusatory glances... The embers of anger were smouldering in the fellow Blue Lions, and it would not be long before it turned into a full fledged flame if something was not done to quell it. Yet, a sidelong glance at Dimitri, who was still looking away, hands tightly clenched and trembling slightly in the rain proved that the young prince was not beyond all sense, but merely grappling with things that he was simply not ready to face. But the time for patience, for kindness had run its course. "Dimitri..."

"She nearly died for a sin I committed... Nearly joined all of the others... because I was just like that girl. What do I do, Rodrigue? Simply permit it? I cannot. She should have never stood in the way of that blade. She should have allowed me to die." Dimitri shook his head, his voice weak and wary, and he looked up into the clouds to allow the rain to wash over his face. The cold stung, hitting him like a thousand icy arrowheads, but he appreciated the pain that it caused on his yet to be healed battle wounds, as well as his old, long-since-healed scars. It was only further evidence of his guilt, of his monstrosity, and yet his professor had deemed him fit to live. "In those five years, she did not haunt me like the others... I never knew why, but I thought it was simply a matter of time, and was resigned to it. Now... I cannot do a thing, Rodrigue. Not for her, not for Father, Stepmother, or Glenn... I am useless... I... I am lost."

"It is not a matter of permitting her actions, Dimitri. You do not have the right to decide what she does or does not do with her life." Rodrigue spoke quietly but gently, understanding the pain that was seeping through the young man's very bones, and aching himself for him... but he knew now was not the time to show his sympathy. It was not what Dimitri needed to hear, not yet, and he was not in any place to give it. He, himself, had been saved by Raine's quick thinking and her near godlike instincts... and her words, the last words she had thought she was going to say... He shook his head, and continued on firmly, "And... She was right, Dimitri. What she did.. What all have done, up until now... They were choices that were made for themselves, and not for you. I know that to feel that, to hear that, cannot sit will with you... but it is the truth. And if that hurts you... If that is unacceptable to you... Then you cannot continue on the path you are on. All that will do is dishonour the choices they made, and their sacrifices."

Dimitri closed his eye, allowing the rain to wash harder across his face and hide the stinging of the tears that only his good eye could now weep. He understood what Rodrigue said was indeed the truth, but it did not help him digest that angry clench of pain from deep inside of his stomach. He had frozen with horror at seeing his professor so terribly wounded, and had almost broken when she declared she was glad to be in such a state if it meant him living. If continuing on as he was meant that she would do it again... He shuddered reflexively. "My hands, Rodrigue... They're stained red. I've taken so many lives... I am indeed a monster, and yet... Someone like her claims she can't live in a world without someone like me...? I do not have a right to live. I do not have a right to be free... Do I?"

"You've punished yourself enough, Your Highness." Rodrigue reached out, settling a kind hand on the prince's shoulder and delivering a small, careful squeeze. He felt Dimitri tremble, for all of his strength and his build, he was trembling like a young boy about to burst into tears, and his chest ached fiercely for the son of his best friend and all he had lost, and all he had done. Yet, that had been fate's cruel hand forcing him, at least for the last five years, and for that... Rodrigue refused to render judgement. He continued calmly, refusing to remove his hand and keeping a close, careful eye on his ward as he spoke, "What you seek isn't vengeance... It is repentance. You acknowledge your sins. You will hold them close for the remainder of your life, and allow them to guide your hands in the future... but if you wish to be the man that your father was, that your father wished you to be... You cannot give up on life. You cannot condemn yourself to death, and to the flames just yet. You must find a reason to live. A reason to continue on for yourself."

"A reason to live...?" Dimitri repeated the words slowly, unsure of their taste on his tongue, and he shook his head slowly as his mind automatically tried to discard them. Could he find a reason, after all he had done? Did he even deserve a reason, considering who and what he had become? He did not believe so, regardless of what Rodrigue said... but still he hesitated in saying so. He could still feel that cold, bloody hand on his cheek, and see that gentle, tender smile on the back of his eyelids and emblazoned in his mind's eye whenever he tried to sleep. It had been haunting him ever since he had returned from Grondor, and he had no doubt it would haunt him for the remainder of his life. Why had she spoken so kindly to him? Why had she chosen to give up her life in exchange for his? He couldn't understand it. He didn't wish to. It simply caused him too much pain. "I don't know if I can, Rodrigue. I do not know... if I should."

"If you cannot find a reason for yourself, my prince... Find a reason for another. Find something, or someone, who will drive you to move forward if your own self is not enough for you." Rodrigue pushed gently, firmly, as he felt Dimitri's resolve again beginning to waver. He could see that pain, that anguish written all over the young man's face, and it stirred him, but he knew he was not permitted to spell it out for him. It had to be a decision Dimitri made for himself, on his own, or else it would be meaningless. "You do not need to do so now, it may take time for you yet, but in the end... It is something you must do if you wish to retread your steps and forge on a new path. You must find a reason to continue moving forward... A reason to continue to live."

Dimitri said nothing in response, unsure if he could put anything he thought or felt to words even if he tried. A reason to live...? It sounded so foreign. So utterly ridiculous. He had no right to live. He knew this already... but there again was Raine and Rodrigue urging him otherwise, and he was so tired, so broken, that he no longer knew if he had the strength of will to continue to resist them. When she had gone so far to save him... Would it not be an insult to her actions, to her, if he chose to do anything but live? His hands tightened at his sides, cold and wet from the rain, and for a brief, mad moment, a memory of a better time, a warmer time flickered through his head.

The smell of a fresh, spring rain, the feeling of a warm, soft body cradled in his arms underneath the bright sunlight... It had been a lifetime ago since he had carried her out of the Sealed Forest and back to the safety of the monastery after her transformation because of the Goddess' intervention. It had been a lifetime ago that he had looked down at her, curled up in peaceful sleep against his chest and felt himself wavering from his goals, simply because his concern for her well-being was becoming too much for him to bear. He had chosen then to overlook it, to overlook her, but that day, those memories, had been a balm to him as much as they had been a curse... and he did not think he had the strength to make the same mistake twice.

'If I hadn't... I had chosen her, over revenge... Would these last six years have happened? Would we have lost her, had I not been so consumed with revenge over all else...?' The questions were salt on open wounds, making him wince and grimace with pain, but he knew it was all well-deserved. He could not know the answers, but some wild, manic part of him wished it would have been so. That he had been only one different choice away from an entirely different future, a different past, and his entire body ached with a pain that had nothing to do with his wounds.

"If I cannot... find a reason for myself... Is it selfish... to choose to find a reason... in another?"

Rodrigue watched Dimitri's face turn back towards the monastery, his hand loose on his weapon, and his body sagging tiredly in the rain. He was so far beyond him, his spirit and his mind having travelled back unbidden to the infirmary, and despite it all... Rodrigue felt his lips curling into a small, sad smile. There was no hope in Dimitri's voice, but he did not expect to hear any. He was drowning still, and likely would continue to drown for much, much longer, yet... His hand was finally breaching the surface in an attempt to find something, anything, to cling to so he could pull himself out. "That is your choice to make... just as it will be their choice in accepting, or rejecting you, Your Highness. We cannot know until an attempt is made, at the very least."

"No... An attempt... is beyond me yet..." Dimitri shook his head slowly as he cast aside the thought, as warm, as comforting as it first appeared. He did not deserve to think of such things yet. He still was not sure he deserved to consider it at all. There was more to do, before he could entertain selfishness, regardless of what Rodrigue was pushing upon him. He forced his eye away from the walls of the infirmary, from where he knew she was sleeping on unaware, and instead back to Rodrigue. It was difficult to continue to speak, difficult to hold himself in check when he was so damned tired, but he did not have the luxury to be so. "I have more to do instead here... Here, and in the Kingdom. I have neglected my duties for too long... If I am to even consider... a life beyond myself... I must first put myself to task of righting my many, many wrongs."

"You will return to Fhirdiad?" Rodrigue questioned despite himself, and for the first time in many moons, he felt his heart lifting in relief and joy rather than sinking with despair and concern. Whatever he had expected from intervening between Dimitri and Warin, this had been the last thing to come of it, but he knew he could not question him overmuch, lest he change the still faltering prince's mind. It was still a massive change of their current course, and it would likely cause division, but... Rodrigue would not lie in saying it was something he had been longing to hear ever since he had responded to the request for the rebellion's troops.

"The Kingdom must be retaken, and this so-called Dukedom crushed... The people need freedom from the clutches of the Empire. Their suffering will not end with the taking of Enbarr." Dimitri answered quietly, and he shook his head with slow deliberation as he wondered how that simple fact had eluded him for so long. Or had he always known it, and had instead chosen to overlook it because the simplicity of Edelgard's death was much more attractive to him than the bigger picture at hand? He didn't know. He didn't wish to know. But to act... He could do that much now. He had to do that much, if he wished to take even one step away from the path he was currently treading. "The snake that I wish to kill has more than one head... Even if I were to remove one head in Enbarr... That still leaves one in Fhirdiad. And another in the Alliance... My priorities must shift... The Kingdom must be freed, as well as the Alliance. Then, and only then, should we return our steps to the Empire."

"Is that the course of action you have decided upon then, Your Highness?"

"It is the course of action that should have been taken from the beginning." Dimitri answered the question wearily, and he well recalled the bitter argument that had ensued when he cast aside the thought of returning to Fhirdiad to free it from the Dukedom before turning for the Empire. The choice had divided his companions sharply, and the few who had supported a straight march to Enbarr had not done so because they wished for revenge. He knew this well. It was not as if someone like Mercedes would ever endorse leaving behind the poor and weak for something like vengeance. Raine had fought him the hardest, only ceding to him when she had realized that no amount of talking sense, or appealing to his love for him homeland would sway him. No, instead she had only been met with cold, biting remarks that she of all people should be siding with him for Rhea's sake, and he flinched at the very thought. When had his professor ever shown anything even remotely resembling love for the church? She was not devout. She only cared because she had been forced to, having been thrown unceremoniously into a position of leadership she had never asked for, nor wanted, and she had never made it look otherwise.

Rodrigue did not voice his agreement, though he could tell from the quiet, thoughtful look on the young prince's face that it was not entirely the Kingdom that was driving his thoughts. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop a smile from forming, before he gestured for the hall not too far away from them. The rain was growing worse, and as much as he understood his lord's desire to remain in the storm, to allow it to clear his head... He did not wish to see him join his professor in the infirmary from illness. Dimitri said nothing, but followed his lead all the same, and Rodrigue spoke thoughtfully as they ducked out from the downpour, "The capital will be well fortified... Cornelia shall have seen to that. If we wish to retake it... We will need a sharp, surgical strike. It is thankfully something that can be done with minimum risk at the moment, considering the outcome of Grondor has left the armies of the Empire in disarray."

"What do you mean?"

"Ah, yes, you would not be aware..." Rodrigue paused, remembering that while he, Gilbert and Seteth had been left with the bulk of work that usually they would have left to the professor, Dimitri had not at all been in any state to be keeping abreast of such news. He had no idea of what the victory at Grondor, despite their own personal sacrifices in order to secure it, had won them all. He shook off his coat, laying it across a nearby chair before he beckoned for Dimitri to join him at the table, and he explained as he took a seat, "Forgive me, and allow me to update you on our current progress, Your Highness. While, initially, it can seem to others that the battle at Grondor could seem to be a loss, the truth is much more to our advantage. The Emperor escaped our clutches, true, but she and her retinue of soldiers have retreated back to the safety of Enbarr. They are consolidating after their sound defeat, and are especially wary now that the rebellion troops have established a working truce with the forces of the Alliance."

Dimitri took in the information silently, following Rodrigue's lead as he, too, shed his sodden cloak to hang it to dry before he sat down beside him. The map on the table before them had not been changed to reflect their current circumstances as it likely had in the war room, but Rodrigue had made a wise choice in keeping him far and away from it. It was too close to the infirmary, to where the others likely were either still gathered, or passing by on rotation, and it was far more than unwise to even think of approaching the area as he was now. It was safer to have this discussion here, but he did admit some of what Rodrigue said startled him, and he looked sharply to the older man as he questioned with a fair degree of surprise, "The truce will hold?"

"If the information that was provided by Warin's men was accurate, then yes, the truce will indeed hold." Rodrigue answered with a firm nod, though he did admit silently that it had not been easy to secure such a promise from the Alliance's young lord. The mayhem that had followed so quickly after the end of the battle had almost made it impossible for a talk to even take place, and only Warin's near-threatening of Claude had forced the man to return with them to the Great Bridge for further talks in Raine's absence. He had made it expressly clear he wished to speak to her and her alone of such matters, but with her condition as it was... Rodrigue continued carefully, knowing he had to choose his words wisely lest he prick his majesty's temper, "It was not... easy, for the promise to be secured, as I am sure you can imagine. Claude is a notoriously difficult man to negotiate with, especially when he has little interest in speaking with middlemen. However, with Raine being incapable of speaking for the rebellion at the time, he had no choice but to either accept Warin as her replacement or return back to the Alliance empty-handed. However, as with the Emperor, Claude sustained injuries and losses of his own, and he, too, had to turn homeward. He will call for our aid when it is needed, and we shall be expected to give it when the time comes. I imagine however, that like us, he will be attempting to burn the Empire's influence out from the Alliance entirely, but the time for him is not yet ripe for such a bold move, especially with the state he and his troops are in as of current."

Dimitri shook his head, both with wonder, and with a heady mixture of appreciation and awe at his professor's actions. He had thrown aside the very idea of working alongside the Alliance based of distrust of Claude alone, and yet Raine had managed to do what had to have seemed impossible, and without the aid of anyone that could have helped increase her odds. She had done it in open defiance of him, and he doubted that after his own display of mistrust that she had reached out to anyone else in order to find aid. It simply wasn't her way. She was too stubborn to be cowed, too jaded to trust figures of authority with their own machinations to attend to... but still she had done what he doubted anyone else ever could have if they had been in her place. "She truly performed a miracle... How did she manage to secure a working truce with the Alliance from underneath all of our noses? Were you aware of her plans, Rodrigue?"

"Heavens no... She likely was well aware she would be taken to task if she had openly voiced her plans to the rest of the generals at the war table, as ridiculous as it now looks." Rodrigue shook his head, smiling with both a mixture of shame, and pride for the youth and her sheer stubbornness and brass. She was no noble, and her actions proved it. She cared not a whit for social decorum even if she was expected to lead both the rebellion and the church, and her every action had angered someone in one way or another since she had returned to take up the mantle that had been thrust so unceremoniously on her shoulders. "From my knowledge now, which was only given to me because she herself could not do so... She had been planning this coup long since before our attempt to take the Great Bridge, and she entrusted this knowledge with only five people."

"Her brother, no doubt... And Sylvain, Ingrid, Annette, and Dorothea. Of course... She used sparing Lorenz and Ferdinand in the battle as an excuse to hide her true motives... Our scouts never made it to the Alliance territory due to the Imperial army. But she had planned ahead for that, and used Lorenz instead to act as a proxy... Brilliant." Dimitri shook his head, both deeply amused and ashamed at his professor's ingenuity. She had only been forced to act underhandedly because he had made it so, but still, even when it was his wrath she risked... She had done so anyway, because she had known it was for the greater good. His shame ran deep, but he had to admit, his awe for her was beginning to run even deeper. How many more miracles could she accomplish, if she was permitted full reign? It likely would be more than he could even imagine. "Edelgard was lucky... Had she not been so focussed on my own well-being... Professor may have well ended the war in Grondor, then and there herself. We underestimated her. No... I underestimated her."

"No, Dimitri, I believe the fault lies wholly with us all. Otherwise, she would have reached out to all of us for aid rather than choosing to work in secret." Rodrigue spoke kindly but not dishonestly, and his eyes flickered with both humour and sadness to know that the woman they had forced to lead had never once been truly trusted by all of them all this time. She had been torn too many ways, trying to please too many people and their wants, and rarely had a choice she made gone unchallenged, regardless of how small, or large it had been. The burden of leadership had not been kind to her. It made perfect sense that instead of confiding, or trusting, in her generals that she had turned to her students when she had needed aid. Only they had ever shown her complete trust and faith, and it was what she needed if she wanted to have her schemes succeed for all of their betterment. "With Seteth pushing for the good of the church, and Gilbert pushing solely for your sake, and myself as an apparently "neutral" third party... It's little wonder she fell back on those she knew would have no ulterior motives, or reason to disagree based on differing loyalties. That is not something she should have been forced into doing, which is something we can all take the blame for. We owe her much for what happened in Grondor... All of us do."

"Which makes me wonder if any will listen to me, when it comes to changing course." Dimitri admitted with a slow, painful shake of his head as he stared absently at the map in front of him. Sylvain, Ingrid, and Annette had proven already where their priorities, and loyalties now lay. They had chosen their professor rather than him, and he could understand their allegiance and bore them no ill will... but it also made him wary of the fact that if and when he attempted to step into her shoes to command, even if he was choosing to do what most had argued for in the very beginning... "She led these men all of this time. Not me. They have no reason to follow my orders, and even less to trust me now. Outside of blind loyalty to a liege, which means less than nothing, I'm afraid that when the time comes... I will not have any support."

"This is true. You will likely have a reception of cold mistrust when you air your change of heart... but that is a trial you must go through to prove yourself honest, and worthy of a second chance." Rodrigue hated to speak so coldly and painfully of what his majesty was to go through, but he knew it was important to be honest. He would not be like Gilbert and allow his failure in protecting Lambert to cloud his judgement. If he wished to cleave to his word, he would need to be both stern and kind, rather than enabling. It was a thin rope to walk, even more difficult to see, let alone navigate, but he would do his best all the same, and so he continued on firmly, "You will earn back the trust of your comrades with both your words and your actions. Explain your plans. Your motivations. You must be honest, even if it hurts you... No, especially if it will cause you harm. They will rally about you, if given time to forgive, and if they are able to see that you will not betray their trust."

"You think it that simple, Rodrigue?" Dimitri almost chuckled, but the laugh was hallow and bitter. That hatred in Warin's eyes, and the venom that had dripped from his tongue... It had been all too real, and all too well-deserved. It was true, Warin was Raine's only family left in the world, and it was his duty to protect her... but he was no fool. That loyalty and love was not for Warin and Warin alone. All of the Blue Lions, at one time or another, had been given reason to feel exactly as Warin did for their professor. Her treatment at his hands had already fostered mistrust and discomfort. What had happened in Grondor was a sin that went far beyond the pale. If he received no forgiveness... He had no right to complain, or be surprised. "Warin's sentiments will not be his alone... At the very least, her chosen trio of knights will be the last to show me sympathy, and the first to object to my leadership."

"And they will be right to, do you not think so?" Rodrigue did not need an answer, as he could see it clearly painted across Dimitri's face, and it gave him relief to know he was not about to be argued with. Dimitri's shame ran deep, but with it came self-awareness, and that was something he deeply needed if he was to continue forward. There were many harsh truths his liege would be facing in the coming days, but it would all be necessary trials for him, and Rodrigue firmly believed they would make him a better man, and a better king, when all was said and done. "The shoes you hope to fill are large, even for you... but fill them you must, as no one else can do so. While we have confirmation now that your professor will make an eventual recovery... We do not know how long it will take before she will return to her duties. It is up to you to walk her path for her now."

"Heh... And that alone sounds even more insurmountable than anything you have laid out in front of me so far..." Again, Dimitri's laughter was hallow, but his one, good eye was no longer dim. The challenge he faced was not one he believed he could conquer, not alone, but he knew he had to make those first steps without guidance or support. He would only be branded a coward, and rightfully so, if he did not try to stand alone under the weight of his sins. More than anything, when she woke, he wanted her to see a world changed... A world where she was no longer struggling under the burdens he had cast aside for her to carry for him. "But it is what it is... And I will do so to the best of my ability. If I didn't... I would never be able to face her again."

Rodrigue was silent as he watched Dimitri stare quietly at the map ahead of him, clearly not seeing it and lost deep in thought, and he could not help but wonder. Felix had spoken more of himself than anyone else when he had been back in his territory, barring the passing mention of how deeply he wanted to take Sylvain to task for one thing or another, but the one thing he had mentioned, and had mentioned with seriousness was that he had found one person, and one person only who was capable of "chaining the boar". In all his time at the academy, he hadn't believed it was possible, that someone could keep Dimitri at a firm heel, and yet he had spoken with confidence that their new professor, unpolished and unprofessional as she was... had the capacity to leash Lambert's son in a way no one else had managed. Rodrigue had not understood what Felix had meant then, but as he looked to Dimitri now, he was beginning to.

'Felix called it chaining... He was young and naive, then. Would he call what Miss Matritz has done to him chaining as well, I wonder...?' Rodrigue sat up a little more firmly in his chair, wincing despite himself as he knew this was a dangerous topic to broach, but it was one that he needed to speak of before he could allow Dimitri his privacy. It was the one thing that was now separating him from the rest of his comrades, if only because it was unspoken and not acted upon, but the man he had reconnected with several moons prior was not the one sitting across from him now. He could not be kind. He had to be frank, even it if meant pulling at wounds that simply were not ready to begin to heal. He kept his voice calm and measured, but his eyes were sharp as they studied Dimitri closely, "Your Highness... Your reason... The "another", you spoke of... Is it her, Dimitri? Is she the one who drives you? Is it she who will be the one to give you reason to live?"

"Whether or not she is, Rodrigue... I do not believe it matters now. There are other things... More pressing things... That must be attended to first." Dimitri shook his head slowly as he refused to answer, though he knew it foolish to dodge the question anyway. Rodrigue would see right through him, just as he always had, but he still could not give voice to the truth. Not yet. It simply was not the time. Admitting it now meant nothing. Not until he had taken steps away from who he had been, and what he had done. His sins would haunt him for a lifetime, and after death, the flames would welcome him as he knew they must. No amount of redemption would cleanse him, and he would accept that fact without a fight. Yet... If he was to even entertain the thought of happiness, of peace... He wanted to have something tangible, something real, to give to her first. It did not matter if she never accepted him. It did not matter if she never forgave him. But he would change, and he would ease her burdens... because it was all he could do to prove that his words were not empty. "Until that time comes... I would ask you to not speak of this again, Rodrigue."

"Of course, Your Highness. Forgive my impertinence." Rodrigue nodded and accepted the request without hesitation, but still he felt his heart aching. His prince was still so young, but so scarred and embittered. His fatalism had trapped him for almost nine long years now, and it would take time, time and a gentle hand, before he would be able to lift his head with any even remote semblance of pride. Perhaps when she woke, she would return to the task she had set for herself, but there was always the chance that she would not. She had done more than anyone else would have ever done, and it would not be wrong of her to wash her hands if she so chose now. He knew it as well as Dimitri did, which more than explained his hesitancy, and his unwillingness to have even the slightest iota of hope. Yet... His actions, and his words still betrayed him, just as they had betrayed her, the first time they had spoken at length. 'But your hope is not unfounded... You may be surprised yet, my prince... And for the sakes of the both of you, I will hope for that exact outcome...'

AN:

My biggest issue with Rodrigue was his untimely death, as well as the catalyst that his death served. Despite it helping massively with the shipping goggles when it comes to Dimitri/Byleth, the entire "talk in the rain" scene lacked the punch it needed because Byleth simply is not Rodrigue. Byleth is not someone who knows, intimately, just who Dimitri is, and what he has suffered and lost. As open and as kind as Byleth is for Dimitri, in that moment, kindness is not what he needs. As much as his character growth relies upon this scene, as well as the others that follow (and came before), Dimitri coming to these conclusions on his own are hard to swallow. He is still reeling from grief, and despite being told to "find a reason to live", he simply is in no mental state to do so without harder pressing that Byleth simply doesn't deliver.

An argument can be made however that Raine is not Byleth, and therefore should be capable of giving that swift and stern guidance... Or Warin, at the very least could do so, but that isn't how I wanted Dimitri's growth to be facilitated. (It doesn't help that Warin would sooner gut Dimitri at this moment than provide a helping hand anyway...) Rodrigue deserved better than what he got in Azure Moon, and therefore I refuse to allow him to have to die simply to be kickstart Dimitri's character arc. I have never liked the "stuffing in the fridge" type tropes, and Rodrigue is a good character who deserved more screentime, and a chance to really interact and guide Dimitri both during his manic phase, and in his more calm, reserved, and repenting phase. Having Byleth be his sole guide is too much of a burden to put on the both of them, and Byleth was under more than enough stress as it was without cause or care for their mental health. And to be frank, the less said about Gilbert as an advisor, the better.

This, of course, also leads into what will be a "problem" to face in the next chapter (or chapters)... The acceptance of Dimitri's change of heart. A common complaint for AM, which I share, just to be completely honest, is that Dimitri's arc came about too quickly, and with far too much acceptance. Felix's anger was a momentary comment that was brushed aside too quickly, and while AM is longer than CF, it still misses a lot of heavier moments in lieu of rushing through the campaign. Of course, now that my version of AM is off the rails... Creative freedom means I get to address a lot of the finer points that were glossed over, or simply never brought up.

Regardless, I intend to continue on, but we'll likely be staying in Harpstring Moon for at least three more chapters before moving on to the next bit. There's a lot to cover, both plot-wise and for character development, and we're all aware that's where I shine more than in combat scenes. So, until next time...! I thank you as always for reading, please drop a review should you feel the need, and I'll see you again soon!

Mood: Homesick.

Listening To: "The Ballad of Mona Lisa" - Panic At The Disco

~ Sky