Genres/Ratings: Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Introspective. (T)
Characters: Raine, Dimitri.
Summary: Waking up in the infirmary had been an unpleasant surprise for her, especially with her back burning from the still-healing scar of the dagger-wound she had received in Grondor. What had followed in her three-week-long absence from leadership however had proven a better sort of shock, though she still remained guarded at all the news that was trickled to her by word of mouth from her healers. It would take several more days before she was discharged formally, several days of visits and well-wishes and excited and relieved smiles that made her feel a liar to answer with one of her own across her face... but she could wait until she was sequestered in her own room to be honest with herself. At the very least there, in privacy, she could sigh and rest in peace. A turn to Fhirdiad was good news... but the continued absence of the "reformed" Dimitri was a worry. She would chase after him eventually, as she knew she had to, but asking for one more night of quiet couldn't be too much, could it?
Harpstring Moon
Dormitories (Professor's Quarters)
Twilight
Raine glanced over her shoulder as she sat on the edge of her bed, looking at her reflection silently as her fingertips grazed that gently throbbing patch of skin that had seen more magic than the rest of her body likely had even after her many years of battle. She had denied the first offer she had been given of seeing the wound that had taken her out of the action for three long weeks when she had first woken up in the infirmary several days ago, and though she didn't regret her choice... She had to admit, she wasn't entirely sure if what she was looking at was a pleasant, or an unpleasant sight. It was not the worst kind of scar she could have had from a stab wound, and she knew her body was a mess of them, as was the way of any mercenary... but it had been a grave wound, and one that had caused all sorts of chaos from the moment it had been inflicted on her in the fields of Grondor.
The dagger had come close to killing her. Too close... Yet the scar it left wasn't as bad as the condition she had been in afterwards. It was a rough, jagged mark in her shoulderblade, right overtop of her heart and carving in downwards, but otherwise there was no real sign of outer damage. All of the injury had been inside, with the blood loss and the shock and her already flagging body, or at least, that was how Mercedes had explained it to her when she had been conscious enough to hear the details. The wounds she had been ignoring during the battle had done worse to her body overall than that single stab in the back, but it had been enough in the end to bring her down. She had already been on the verge of collapse, physically and mentally... That last wound had been the final straw.
Raine sighed as she twisted herself slightly further to get a better look, though she wasn't entirely sure why she wanted one. She had accumulated many scars over the years. Lance wounds, arrowheads that she had been forced to dig out with a dagger, slashing axe and sword injuries... and hidden under bandages and tonics and magic they had all healed, and eventually faded until she couldn't really even remember where most of them had come from. This one however she doubted would be falling under that category anytime soon, but she knew better than to really care. Personal appearance had never been important to her. A scar was just a scar. She was only happy that her sword-arm was still functional.
Still, her fingertips brushed with careful, hesitant interest over the raised and darkly reddened skin... There was little pain left in it, after all of the healing that had been forced into her body. It ached more than anything, but even that was little and rather easy to ignore. What was worse was the grogginess, the weight of her body being active again after having been in a coma for three weeks, but she had known better than to complain about that. Manuela, Dorothea and Mercedes had all looked as ill as she had felt on waking, and learning they had spent the better part of three weeks looking after her ceaselessly... No, complaining was out of the question. It would be far too selfish, and childish, to complain.
Instead, for the following several days, Raine had played the part of a perfect patient until she had been discharged. She had rested, taken her medications and remedies, and done whatever she had been told without a word of argument. She hadn't asked after anyone, not after being told the mission in Grondor had been a success and all had come out alive, but unfortunately, the hope of not being asked after hadn't lasted very long. As soon as word had spread that she was awake, the stream of visitors and well-wishers had started... and no amount of scolding from any of her healers could keep the crowd at bay.
It had been difficult, pasting a smile over her face when she had greeted her students and fellow generals, but she had somehow managed it despite how tired and irritated she had felt at first. Thankfully Mercedes had at least managed to enforce a "greet and go" rule that left her undisturbed after the initial hubbub, and for that she knew she owed Mercedes a great deal. Now, discharged with only the caveat that she keep from the training fields for at least another day or two... Raine was permitted to be well and truly alone, and she both basked in the silence, and bristled with unease in it.
How long would she be given, before she would be thrust back into leadership? She wasn't quite sure, especially with the news that Dimitri had apparently turned over a new leaf during her absence. It was obvious he still didn't have the full support of the rebellion, but he had made strides, and those strides were being recognized. At the very least, the majority of the Blue Lions seemed convinced that his change of heart was real, and they were all onboard for his next move into Fhirdiad. She, at least, also agreed with that, and was happy to hear that he was turning from Enbarr and back homewards... but it still did not make her any more comfortable with all she had missed out on, and all that was still to come.
A near takeover in Brigid by the desperate Imperial army, an encounter with the Death Knight far too close to Garreg Mach, along with the knowledge that the man underneath that skeletal helmet was Mercedes' brother... Raine shivered. She would have preferred to have been there, for Petra and Mercedes both, but there was no helping it now. The Death Knight had fled, though he had left his sister a Hero's Relic as some morbid sort of parting gift, and Caspar and Bernadetta would soon be leaving the monastery as well. She had been glad to see the two in good health and good spirits, and hadn't begrudged them their decision to continue to wander and avoid the worst of the war as best they could... Bernadetta wanted nothing to do with the conflict, and Caspar was ceding to her wishes, as best as he was able. When the Empire finally fell, perhaps a return home would be in their future, but that was something they weren't speaking of aloud, and Raine didn't blame them for a moment.
Another shiver sent goosebumps racing up and down her skin, and Raine sighed as she glanced about idly for her shirt and cloak. She had removed all of her bandaging and clothing to inspect herself fully in the privacy in her room, but sitting topless in the dormitories for nearly an hour on end, inspecting her scar and falling into thought wasn't doing her still-recovering body any favours. She still quite at risk for getting sick again, and with the strict diet that was to follow her recovery plan of rest and lesser duties, Raine was well aware she was not quite yet out of the woods.
They had called her a mess of a patient, and Raine had been forced to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from making dark japes that she doubted any single one of her healers would have appreciated. She had known she was a mess, and she had simply lacked the energy or the will to care or do anything about it. Her lost weight, the multitude of ill-cared for injuries, the lack of sleep that had made her weak in both the mind and body... She knew full well she was not healthy, and she also knew full well she was on her way to careening headlong off a cliff if she continued as she was. The problem was that she simply did not have it in her to care.
There were too many other things that were taking precedence, and anything even remotely personal had to be shoved aside if she wanted to deal with it all. There was no real help to be gained from her "advisors", and most of what she did, she did alone, or in secrecy. There was training to be seen to, rations to be dealt out, supplies to be gained, alliances and truces to be maintained, and missions upon missions upon missions to prepare for. And that wasn't even beginning to delve into the finer details of keeping her soldiers supplied with weapons and intelligence, while simultaneously lying through her teeth to her advisors of her real doings with her students in between the heavy burdens of battle. It was enough to drive anyone with any real experience mad and to exhaustion, and she had none of the experience needed to be obeyed, or even taken remotely seriously on her best days. For all of the leadership they wished for her to do... She certainly wasn't getting an iota of respect for it.
At the very least, the apologies Seteth, Gilbert, and Rodrigue had all given to her in the infirmary had been something she had enjoyed taking, even though it had irritated her beyond belief to be hearing it now of all times. She had been forced to prove herself worthy by way of subterfuge, long after the mantle of leading had been placed on her shoulders, before they really would consider her ideas to have merit. If it hadn't been for Manuela, enraged on her behalf and kicking the lot of them from the infirmary personally, Raine would have likely taken her sword in hand herself and beaten the lot of the men over the head with it until someone restrained her. Not a one of them had come by for a second visit, and she hoped they would keep their distance for awhile longer until seeing any of them didn't fill her with the rabid desire to punch the lot of them straight in the mouth.
Three loud knocks on the door brought her from her reverie, and Raine looked over her shoulder to it before letting out a long, tired sigh. No one had come to see her since she had left the infirmary, and she doubted anyone was foolish enough to try and speak to her in her own quarters now that she had been banished to them. The healers had made themselves perfectly clear that while she was awake she was still not better, and if everyone wished for a full recovery, they would be best leaving her alone as much as physically possible. When she returned of her own will they could bombard her as they wished, but that was still a few days coming. The only one likely to ignore those orders were her brother, and he had only visited her once in the infirmary, with a nod and all the information he knew she wanted before he had left her alone to heal and to rest. To say she appreciated his kindness was an understatement, and if he wished to visit her now... She couldn't very well turn him away.
"Come on in, Warin. The door is unlocked, so no point in standing out in the cold on ceremony." Raine called idly over her shoulder as she reached for the nearest shirt on hand and stood, stretching her muscles carefully as that throbbing set up again almost at once at her movement. Her back was still firmly to the door as she began to pull the fabric down, and she heard the heavy wood opening quietly, before suddenly slamming shut with a loudly exclaimed oath made in a voice that was most assuredly not her brother's.
Leaping like a scalded cat, Raine forced the shirt down well past its stretching point in a desperate attempt to get it somewhere near her knees, and she backed into the corner of her room with both a mixture of horror and shame. The door was shut and she was alone again, but that didn't matter. She knew that voice, and she knew exactly what he had seen in his error of opening the door at her instruction. He likely hadn't heard her call for her brother, and only for permission to enter, and she couldn't entirely blame him for that... yet, as heat burnt in both her ears and her shoulder... Raine hesitated as she wondered what in the seven hells she was supposed to do next after realizing Dimitri had walked in on her, likely having seen her half-undressed before cursing and quickly making an exit so not to make a scene.
'Too late for that...' Raine mused with a bitter shake of her head, and she took in several deep breaths to calm the racing thoughts in her head and find control of herself again. She had been thinking of him, of tracking him down for a long-needed and long-coming talk, but she hadn't expected he would beat her to it. If anything, she had assumed he was avoiding her. He hadn't appeared amongst the many who had come to visit, and from her knowledge, even when she had been unconscious, Dimitri had been giving the entire building the infirmary was in a huge berth, and had even taken to holding the war councils in the Knight's Hall, rather than the war room. She wasn't sure whether his avoidance was purposeful, or if he was being chased away from her by the others, but she honestly hadn't had the energy to wonder over it too much. Any news she had heard from the mouths of others had been good, which she was glad for, but she wouldn't believe anything until she saw it for herself. She simply hadn't been ready yet for that, and had promised once she was feeling stronger, she would get to it as soon as she could.
"Clearly, not even you give a damn about what I'm ready for, so why make him wait?" Raine addressed the corner of her room where Sothis has once always resided with an acidic bite to her voice that she regretted almost at once, but she was running quickly both out of options, and of patience. Nothing had gone her way since she had woken up to her father's call in Remire more than five years prior, and her streak was simply continuing on as it had always done. There was little to do but follow along like the puppet she was, and it both made her mouth taste sour as well as turned her hands into fists at her side as she sidestepped about her bed and marched to the door to open it. She was tired, tired and annoyed, and saw little point in delaying the inevitable. If he was still there, she could at least get it all over with now before she was driven to drinking out of pure spite for whatever could be called "luck". If he had turned tail and run, like a sensible creature, she could at least hold onto a semblance of her dignity for another night.
The door swung open, revealing him to still be standing there, half-turned away and face hidden in the shadows, and she idly made a mental note to thank the Goddess when she saw her again for whatever sick sense of humour she had for playing this joke on her so soon after her discharge. There was nothing but a quiet thrall of anger burning somewhere deep in her stomach, and it made her reckless, reckless and sharp as she demanded without preamble, patience, or an ounce of empathy, "What? What in the seven hells do you want with me this late at night? If you've a bone to pick with me, can it not wait until morning? I'm tired. I'm sore. And if you haven't yet caught on, I'm also really not in the mood to be putting up with yet another one of you blue-blooded, arrogant bastards scraping and clawing at my door for advice you never seem to want to heed. Whatever it is you want, make it quick, before I decide Grondor really would have made for a lovely grave."
For a moment, Dimitri had absolutely no response as the river of pure venom flooded out of his professor's mouth and directly poured onto him. Whatever it had been that he expected, this reaction certainly had not been it, even if he knew somewhere deep in his mind that it was most certainly not uncalled for. It had been quite some time since he had heard her speak so harshly, so honestly, but from the tired, burnt-out look in her eyes, he knew she found no joy in it. She was not her brother, after all, and her empathy had always far outweighed her own selfishness... yet these words came freely, and he had to wonder for a mad moment if perhaps she had been the one to teach Warin how to speak, and not the other way around.
Silence stretched for a mad few heartbeats as Dimitri scrambled to find an answer to her vitriol. He had come too soon, he knew that now, but there was no rectifying that. If he tucked tail, apologized and fled, there would never be another chance for him. She would see him as a coward, and he would be rightfully branded one for the rest of his days. It was not ideal, but what was? There was simply nothing ideal about any of this. He could do nothing but soldier forward now. It was all he had left. He spoke quietly, forcing his dry mouth to find and speak the words as those cool, empty seafoam-coloured eyes glared at him in the faint candlelight, "F... Forgive me, I... I realize my timing isn't... I apologize. I wished to speak to you, about a... myriad of things, but... if you don't wish to see anyone, then it can wait. It isn't... nearly that important."
There was more silence as Dimitri focussed his stare firmly on his boots, awaiting a cold command to leave that he intended to follow without complaint or defiance, and he was surprised when a long, exhausted sigh escaped the lips of the woman before him instead. She was no longer looking at him, but rather had also averted her own eyes, and her expression was no longer alight with wrath, but rather drawn and tired, as he remembered it having being for the last several moons. With one little outburst everything seemed to have been taken out of her, and she leaned heavily on the doorframe as she asked with only a small trace of disbelief to colour her tone, "It's not that important? After three long weeks of running yourself about the monastery, everywhere but the one place where I was in a desperate effort to avoid breathing the same air as me, you march yourself up to my door in the middle of the night, and now it isn't important? I'm a poor liar, but you're proving yourself worse. What is it that you want?"
The words were barbed, but her tone was tired and wary, and it left Dimitri fumbling again for a proper answer. How did she manage to switch masks so quickly? That anger had been indignant and sharp and righteous, but now she was reigning it all back in, and proving herself too tired to continue with it even if it still had to be burning somewhere deep within her. He knew it had to be, as an anger that potent didn't just simply disappear after a single outburst, but... She had always proven him wrong before. He clenched and unclenched his hands, unsure of how to proceed, and he could only give her the truth as he shook his head and repeated quietly, honestly, "I only... want to speak with you. Not of the war, or... anything that pertains to it... Not even as two soldiers. Just... you and I. If you would be willing."
More silence followed, and Dimitri could feel her stare on him, keen and searching as she hesitated in answering him. He could feel her trying to find if he had an ulterior motive, if his current show of politeness was merely a mask, but he could do nothing but stand and wait and be judged. He had already promised himself before he had come to her door that whatever she said, whatever she demanded of him, would be exactly how he acted from this day forward, and his plans had not changed regardless of his initial reception. Still, it did little to comfort him when he heard her let out another long-suffering sigh when she replied quietly, "Fine. Come inside, then. I don't have anything to offer you right now, considering the hour, but I doubt that really matters."
Dimitri waited until she stepped in first to offer him entry, and quietly, hesitantly, he took the steps into her quarters and allowed her to shut the door behind him. For a moment however, he did and said nothing as he cast a glance about his surroundings with a fair degree of surprise. The last time he had been in her quarters, it had been depressingly sparse... Now, it almost seemed as if it belonged to someone else. Her desk was the same as ever, cluttered with books and papers and maps, with her cloak hanging haphazardly over the chair, and yet... Everything else had changed, and left him wondering.
A small bookshelf had been built beside her desk, and it was full of titles he recognized from home. He had little doubt that Ashe and Ingrid had helped her with such a collection, though on closer inspection, he could also make out names that hailed from Brigid, and even Imperial and Alliance territory. Her collection of whetstones was still where it had been last, though one stone had been removed from the pile to be placed on the top of her bookshelf. It didn't look anything different from the others besides the fact that it had not yet been used, but the placement proved she had no intent of putting it to her sword. As if it had been a gift of some sort, and she wanted to keep it somewhere safe and out of the way. A folded up chessboard was also hidden underneath the paperwork on her desk, another gift, he assumed, and he noticed a mirror hanging on the wall, by her bed, where he knew one hadn't been there beforehand. All things he had never seen the last time he had been there, and all things, small and insignificant as they were, that somehow made the room seem so much more full than it had once been.
Raine, not seeming to notice his preoccupation, took her cloak from her chair and instead folded it neatly before placing it on the corner of her cot. She sat down beside it, silently offering him the chair at her desk, as she ran a tired hand over her face and through her hair. Her bandages had already been discarded into the wastebin, and she hadn't left anything else out of place, so she didn't concern herself with how her quarters had to look. She knew it was a mess, especially after having spent so many weeks using it as both a place to hide and her only workspace, but she was too tired to care. She did, however, notice as Dimitri took a seat at her desk that he looked rather different than when she had last taken a good look at him, and she remarked with a raised eyebrow, "Are you copying Felix purposefully, or is that just a style in Faerghus?"
"Ah... No, this was... a suggestion from Mercedes. When I first... tried to take over your duties, she told me that perhaps a fresh start also required a different... look, I think her words were. I didn't have anything to lose by trying, and as of now, it seems to be going over well." Dimitri explained with a hint of embarrassment, and he pulled somewhat awkwardly at his bangs as he realized with a strange pang that Raine had not seen him at all since falling in Grondor, and much of what he had done, or what he was doing, had to still be a mystery to her. She had likely heard enough from her near-constant stream of visitors since her awakening, but it had been some time, quite some time, since they had last truly spoken. He could not count that stolen night in the infirmary while she had slept, and he would not count it, but the realization that she was seeing him "anew" for the first time made his chest ache.
But was she, he wondered? She was keeping a healthy distance from him as she always had since they had reunited those few moons ago, as if she fully expected him to explode in a wrath if she said or did the wrong thing. She had invited him into her quarters, but she still had the entirety of her room between the two of them, and that distance felt like miles. Was she afraid of him? He had given her every right to be, if that was the case. But to ask such a thing... It was beyond him, and it kept him quiet as he watched her watching him with raised eyebrows, and only the faintest hint of a smile playing about her lips. She was shaking her head, perhaps in amusement of Mercedes' actions and his own willingness to play along with them, and she remarked idly as he continued to watch her silently, "It's different, I'll grant you that much. Though it certainly does say "Mercedes". She would be the one to suggest something like that to you. I suppose I'm more surprised that you obliged her, than anything else."
"I've... made many concessions, these past few weeks. Filling your shoes is not an easy task... but it was one I chose to do. Anything that would make it easier was something I could not just turn down without thought, even if it was something as insignificant as changing my appearance." Dimitri answered honestly, and he watched as she tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly in thought, but she offered no reply. She did not need to, not as her gaze swept over him sharply, and he wondered just what she had been told, and how much of it had painted him poorly. If he had done that badly of a job, he certainly deserved to have it all laid out at her feet, but he honestly was not sure if he had or not. No one had spoken of it to him, but they had followed him. He supposed it could have been easy, thinking that obedience was approval, and he worked to keep his arms at his sides rather than folding them defensively in front of himself as he continued on, "I'm sure that you have been told that I... made an attempt to lead, in your absence. I cannot honestly say if I did any good. I can only hope I did no harm... It was challenging, taking over your mantle. I admit I don't know how you did it, or do it. But I can say with absolute confidence that I am aware I did not lighten your load... and I wish to apologize for that."
"I've heard of your doings... Everyone kept me relatively abreast of what's happened here in my... absence." Raine acknowledged him with a small nod, and she watched him with some bemusement. He was sitting quietly, almost... timidly, in her chair as he watched and waited for her words. If it wasn't so completely opposite of her last image of him before she had been put into a coma, she almost would have compared him to a whipped dog, looking for scraps at the hand of an abusive master. There was no arrogance to him any longer. Not even a shred of confidence. His body language spoke of a small, frightened man who was expecting reproach, expecting anger, and it confused her almost as much as it made her want to question just what else had happened in these past few weeks that she wasn't being told. It made her hesitant, too, unsure of what to say, or how to say it, and so she simply stuck to honesty as she admitted, "The things I've heard have... mostly been in your favour. No one has said you aren't making an effort to change. Arguments are abound on if it's enough, or if you're doing well of it, but I'll be honest in admitting I won't make a judgement one way or another until I see it myself. I don't like relying on word of mouth from others."
Dimitri said nothing for a moment, biting back thanks he knew he had no right to say. She had not yet judged him, after all. She was only acknowledging she had heard from both parties, and was waiting to see things with her own eyes before she would make a call one way or another. It was more than he deserved, but he also knew it was simply how she was. Still... That guilt burnt like a flame in his gut, and he had to turn his head away. Looking at her was painful. Remembering those cutting words of his friends, of her brother, was painful. He had taken it all to heart, had tried to make his own words apply through his actions, but it had only been a small pittance of time since he had taken up her mantle. He had nothing of true substance to give to her. Nothing but an admittance that he had tried, and he had not tried for long. What was three weeks? She had been under the yoke for moons. It was nothing in comparison. "The conflict in Brigid, as well as the affair with the Death Knight... Both were moments where I had a chance of sorts to prove my words were not empty, and... I can only hope that I acted as you would have in solving both. I... did not wish to act in any other manner. I have been... extremely fortunate to have been granted a second chance. I cannot squander it. I will not squander it. But to prove that, I must act... To act, I must have opportunity. And to be frank... Having an opportunity, where lives must be lost and more fighting is the only outcome... Is not something I wish to wish for."
"That's not at all like the Dimitri I knew in Grondor. You've changed quite a bit to be saying those words." Raine remarked with narrowed eyes, and she realized at once why she was feeling so uncomfortable and wary of him. Nothing about him was familiar. From his demeanour, down to his words, not a thing about him was something she recognized from the past few moons. The man she had met with after her awakening had been desperate for bloodshed, had been wild for the head of his enemy, and now... She shook her head slowly in confusion. If she hadn't already seen the others, a good part of her would have asked if she was still in coma, and dreaming. This was not the Dimitri she had grown to step about, and be cautious of. This was someone else entirely. It made her blunt, perhaps a bit too blunt, but she couldn't deny it as she shook her head again and mused, "If I wasn't sure I was awake, part of me would be asking if I was dreaming. What was it that made you change like this?"
Dimitri was silent as her question went over his head like a bucket of ice water, and he could not find a suitable reply. He supposed it was fair of her to ask, to want to know, and yet... How could she not already see the answer? If no one else had said anything, he supposed perhaps that could be why, but even then it seemed ludicrous. She couldn't be jesting with him. She wasn't the type. Not like this. And it made him frown deeply, and look at her with genuine concern and confusion as he questioned her in response, "You... Are you asking that in jest? Or do you not remember what happened in Grondor?"
"I remember well what happened. That girl... That damned girl I spoke to, leapt out of the bushes while we all were arguing, and took a dagger to you. She almost killed you. And to think, I had been helping that brat with her chores, just two weeks beforehand..." Raine answered flippantly, and she waved a hand as she dismissed his confused and concerned look without much fanfare. Her memory was just fine, despite all of the healing magic that had made her slow and groggy. It would be a memory seared into her mind for years and years to come, and she didn't doubt that for a moment. But it still did not answer her question of what had prompted him to change so suddenly, and she explained that bluntly, "But I remember Grondor perfectly. I remember acting before Rodrigue, and taking his place in front of you. I remember the dagger striking, and I remember thinking that my luck had finally run out. But that still doesn't explain anything. Isn't that the exact scenario you predicted would befall me for my charity? That I'd be stabbed in the back by someone I tried to do well by? I'm not certain why that would spur you to change your outlook. All that happened that day was that you were proven right."
"You nearly died saving my life, and... all you think is that I was proven right?" The words were disgusting on his tongue, and yet Dimitri forced himself to swallow it as he stared at her, uncomprehending and feeling that ball of rage working desperately to make its way up from his stomach. How could she speak so carelessly of her life? Of the impact she had on him? He couldn't see her reasoning, though some mad, wild part of him knew exactly what it was she was speaking of. He remembered full well that he had told her where her charity would lead her, but what had happened in Grondor was nothing like the situation he had spoken of then. And even if it had been... His hands trembled as they grabbed at his knees in a desperate attempt to regain his control. He could not lose his temper with her, simply because she had grown cynical... Simply because she didn't care. It made him plead, desperate to think she was simply misunderstanding, or lying, just to twist the knife in, as that was far more of an acceptable answer than true ignorance, "Please, tell me that you're lying. That this is just some sort of cruel jape. You cannot truly believe that. You cannot honestly believe that."
"Why not?" Raine's question pierced him like a swordstroke, but her eyes were keen as she examined him closely. He was angry, but desperately attempting to reign himself in... and she wondered why. He had never been hesitant to let loose his temper on her before, and she borne it all as stoically as she could. He was trying even to change that, and for the life of her, she couldn't understand why he was so deeply angered by her words and actions. If he wouldn't explain himself fully... Why did she owe him the same? She challenged him coolly, tilting her head to the side as she pointed out none too gently, "It is what you believed, and you said so many a time... If I agree with you now, why does it anger you so much? You won't tell me what changed you, so why do I owe you any explanation on if my opinion has changed or not, either?"
"Because you nearly died for me, damn you! How could that not change me?!" Dimitri felt himself exploding out of the chair as his restraint shattered, and though a great part of him winced as his temper took hold... He could not help himself. She wasn't that blind. He couldn't believe she was. All those moons of trickery, of allowing herself to be his personal target, of trying everything and anything she could to help him fulfil his goals while keeping the amount of blood being shed to a minimum, regardless of what it cost her... She knew better. She had to know better. Or he had done her more of a cruelty than he could ever have imagined, and that only made his anger burn hotter.
He had gotten a good look of her back in that brief moment before he had slammed the door shut again, and the image was seared into his mind and would remain there for whatever pithy excuse of a lifetime he would have left to him. That scar, arcing across her shoulderblade in a dark, crimson reminder of what she had been willing to give for him... A monster, a wretch, and yet she still saw nothing there that warranted a change in him? She had to be lying, or something, somewhere, deep within her had finally broken underneath all of his abuse. And even if that was the case, even if it was true that her cynicism, her flippancy with her own life was his fault... It could not remain that way. He couldn't permit it. He would not permit it. If it was a crack he had drilled into her, then it was one he would fill, and he would do so without delay, and with full prejudice.
His body was trembling with wrath, his hands curled so tightly at his sides that his fingers had lost their feeling, but he couldn't shake away the outrage in exchange for calm. It was impossible. Not when she spoke so damn callously of what she had done. He knew it made him a fool, that he was simply retracing his steps once again back into the shadows, but his words left his lips long before better thought could reign his emotions in, "You took a dagger meant for me, and told me it was what you wanted! You put your life on the line for a wretch of a man like me, and smiled as you did it! And you think that would do nothing to me?! That I'd call you a fool and simply move on?! If you thought that little of me, I could at least accept that, I could even understand and condone it, but then you just leave me wondering why you would bother to save me at all! Did you mean what you said that day, or was it a comforting lie to make letting you go easier?! Which is it?!"
The sudden outburst made her jump, but the words rained in like hot arrowheads, piercing through her unconcerned veil and making her wince each time they struck flesh. He had not moved from where he had stood, but he did not need to in order to look imposing and ferocious as he trembled with indignant rage. His cerulean eye was blazing, but it was a sane blaze, and it made her stomach shrink in on itself as she forced herself to look away from his glare. He was asking her questions that she had no answer to. At least, not answers that she wanted to say aloud. Letting him die was out of the question. There had never been an option where she simply stood by, and allowed what she had seen about to happen simply happen. Her conscience would never have allowed it. And as useless a heart as she had... It would have never allowed for it, either.
Raine wrapped her arms about herself tightly, wishing she hadn't opened that damn door if this was how the night was going to go, but it was far too late for her to turn back the hands of time. And she simply did not have the energy to call upon that power with the damaged state she was in. She could barely lift her blade without her muscles protesting after three solid weeks of disuse. All she could do was sit, small and pathetic on the edge of her bed as she was cornered and without escape, and only the truth would give her freedom, even if it was not a freedom she wanted. She spoke softly, quietly, unable to keep her voice from trembling as she forced the words out against all of her better judgement and sense, "I... I couldn't just... stand by and... do nothing. I couldn't let you, or Rodrigue die out there that day. I... I never would have forgiven myself if I allowed something to happen to you."
"Why?" The retort came sharply, but his voice had dropped from that furious shout to something more resembling a low, fierce growl. He was staring at her still, piercing her through as if he had thrown his lance straight into her chest, and she could neither look up or move underneath the weight of it. He was intimidating as he was... but this? This was something else entirely that frightened her, and it had nothing to do with the idea of physical harm. He did not move from where he had stood, but he did not need to, and he pressed further, unhesitating, merciless as he repeated himself in a deceptively slow voice, "Why would you have never forgiven yourself if you'd allowed justice to take its course? Sparing Rodrigue, that I can understand. He did nothing to deserve a blade. If you were merely holding him back, that would have been one thing... but you didn't. You leapt forward. You inserted yourself between her and I, and it nearly killed you. Why? After everything I've done to you... Everything I forced on you... Why would you still save me?"
Raine closed her eyes, biting her lower lip as the question fell like a lash, cutting through shields she had spent long moons putting up about herself in defence against the hurt. His rejection, his anger, his derision... All of it had cut much more deeply than any dagger ever could have. To feel steel in her back had been nothing compared to how much she had wanted to break down and cry after he had tormented her over the death of her father. But still, she had clung to him. Clung to a foolhardy belief that he could and would one day return to being the man she knew he was. Now, knowing he was turning in that direction, knowing it was her influence, and having him demand to understand the reason she had stood by him, when anyone with a lick of sense would have left him to die... How could she answer? What words could she possibly say to explain? She was at a loss, just as much as he was, and she hated herself for knowing the words, but not being able to say them.
The silence stretched between them, and Dimitri closed his eye as he turned his head, accepting that he would get no answer... and accepting that he had no right to one, no matter how he felt. If she wished to keep her secrets... He had no choice but to respect her wishes. It did not matter how it made him feel. All the outrage on her behalf had done nothing but make her shrink back and away from him, and it gutted him to see it. Three weeks had done nothing to change him. He was still as much of a beast as he had been before she had risked everything to save him... and he wondered bitterly if it was still a sin for him to wish for death. Anything would be preferable to this. To her sitting on the edge of her bed, small, shivering, and scared because he demanded answers from her that she simply did not want to give.
The anger gave way to shame, cold and quiet and heavy, and he forced his hands to unclench and his tense body to relax. It was not what he had hoped for, what he had wished for... but he knew he hadn't deserved any sort of happy ending. This was what had become of them, because of him, and he would take full responsibility for it. It was all he could do now. Salvaging whatever there was left was impossible... and he would come to terms with that, and mourn for it, alone. She had been dragged through enough. He would not be a thorn in her side any longer. He had done enough damage... He had made enough mistakes, and she had paid the price too many times for them. He turned for the door, weighted and cold, and he spoke quietly, his voice ragged, exhausted, as he explained, "I came tonight with the intent of trying... to make amends to you. But I realize that time has long since come and gone. I won't beg for your forgiveness. I'm well beyond it, and I know this. From tomorrow forward... Just treat me as you would any other soldier. I will follow your orders. I will do as you ask... and I will keep my distance from you, as much as I can until this war is over. You'll see no more of me. I can give you that much in apology for all I've put you through until now."
"Wait a moment, you can't-" Raine stood abruptly at the words that cut through the veil of fright, only to bring about a whole new round of adrenaline that forced her into movement before she could think twice of it. That defeated, self-loathing tone had no hint of malice in it. It was simple truth that he had committed himself to, and the very idea that from tomorrow forward, he would simply lose himself in the crowd of the many faces of soldiers she led... She shook her head savagely from side to side. What would have been the damned point of doing anything at all, if this was how it was to end? Her body moved without her input, refusing to permit it, refusing to permit him to cut himself away, and before she could think twice of it, she was at his side, grasping at his arm and dragging him back about to face her. He looked to her in surprise, unsure and confused, but she didn't care. Fear was moving her again before better thought could control her body, and it demanded she show what she couldn't say. If her lips wouldn't use words... There were other ways to get what she needed to be said out into the open.
Dimitri jerked as she pulled roughly at the front of his cloak, and he wondered just how ill she was if she could manage enough strength to manhandle him so easily, but any and all thoughts fled his head like a wyvern free of its saddle as she yanked his head down and covered his mouth with her own. His feet grew roots as his entire body froze in stone, and for a moment, he wondered if he had somehow managed to land himself into a dream. It couldn't be real. Not after everything. It was another bout of fantasy, spurred by too-long denied affection and lust, and he was forgetting the cruelty of reality. Nothing else made sense. Those warm lips on his weren't real. Neither were the slim, soft arms that curled themselves around his neck, pulling him closer, urging him to answer. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real.
The fresh, clean scent of a clear spring rain filled his head, and her skin was warm as her fingers brushed along the nape of his neck. She was soft, impossibly soft as she pressed herself flush into his chest, and that combined with the rest of it simply chased better sense clear from his head. He had always, without fail, been at the mercy of his dreams, and if this was to prove to be one, he would not shake it away. He couldn't. He reached in tandem, arms curling slowly, carefully about her to pull her closer as his lips moved gently against hers in assent. If this was what she wanted of him... She could have it. She could have all of him, in any form she wished, if it would give her peace, or happiness. Even if it was fleeting, even if she would leave him cold and alone when she realized her error, it didn't matter. Anything was a fair price to pay, even if it was just to indulge her a momentary wish.
A soft, quiet murmur of pleasure followed his answer, and those hands of hers turned clinging, urging, as she melted against the front of his chest. His body responded instinctively, one arm tightening about her hips as the other lifted, his hand lightly, gently, tracing the contour of her spine. His fingers brushed gently through the fabric, sliding errantly and thoughtlessly to the side, and he heard her inhale sharply before her body shuddered at the unintentional friction of her scar rubbing against the thick, scratchy fabric of her shirt. He stopped almost immediately, his own breath catching as he felt her momentarily freeze, and his voice was ragged as he whispered roughly against her panting mouth, "Did I hurt you...?"
"It's just a little sensitive..." Raine admitted breathlessly, but her body ached far more than just her shoulder as she leaned against the front of him for support. Her legs felt weak, and her head was light. Every touch sent a spark of electricity coursing through her body, making her skin bloom with foreign heat that was all too quickly making her dizzy, and she wondered why she felt so sensitive. She was used to pain, used to discomfort, but physical pleasure was new, and she was far too easily persuaded by it. Just a simple moment of kissing and a stroke along her spine already had her weak and breathless, and she wondered if it was because it was so new, or because it was him that made her so easily trapped. Her fingers curled about the front of his cloak to keep him where he was as she sensed his intent to pull away, and she brushed her lips longingly against the corner of his mouth when she murmured, "Don't stop yet..."
For a moment, Dimitri considered obeying, and every inch of him ached to ignore better sense and act just as she wanted him to do. Another half of him however resisted viciously, reminded of the fact that he had no come here with any intention but speaking to her, and this was well over the line of what anyone would ever deem acceptable. It didn't matter that she was melting. It didn't matter that he wanted her beyond all reason. Someone had to cling to their better sense, and he forced himself to withdraw, if only slightly. She tried to follow, murmuring unhappily, but he carefully lifted his arm, reaching to cup her cheek and hold it to keep the distance before he spoke in a voice made ragged from effort, "Wait... Just for a moment... Wait."
"Do you not want me?"
The plaintive question cut like a knife, and he groaned as his arms buckled automatically about her to pull her in close for a tight, reassuring embrace. He had no idea where she came up with such wild thoughts, especially considering how quickly he had forgotten his main goal of escape only to be tethered entirely to the ground the moment she had kissed him. The mere idea of turning her away... He'd sooner die. But he fought for better sense, for control, if only for a few more moments as he squeezed her close and whispered against the top of her head, "Don't be daft... As if I could manage to resist you, if you meant to take me... Of course I want you. But that isn't why I'm asking you to wait... I just... I need to hear you say the words. I can't... Not in good faith... I can't touch you again if you don't say the words. You can understand why, can't you...? I need to hear you say it... I need to know that for once... You're acting because you want to, and not because you feel you must."
Raine closed her eyes as she rested her forehead against his chest, allowing his words, his concerns, to begin to soothe that myriad of hurts that had been slowly but surely strangling her over the past several moons. It wasn't enough, not yet, but it was a start, and it was a start she had not thought she would be lucky enough to get. She let out a sigh as she stood quiet and secure in those firm, strong arms of his, and she was absently aware that for the first time in quite some time, perhaps longer than she could remember... She felt almost at peace. Almost. His request was not unfair, and it made more than enough sense that he asked it considering where they had been before and where he was now trying to go... but... He didn't know what he was asking for. Not wholly.
Gently, Raine pushed him away, though her hands were careful in making sure he understood it was not a rejection, but merely a silent request for room. He gave it to her without question even though his brow furrowed slightly, watching her with close, careful concern. She turned a little, back towards her bed, and she took his hand in her own before leading him there to sit with her. He followed, wordless and obedient, and she was both glad for his patience, as well as aching for his kindness. He didn't yet know... and she couldn't give him what he wanted without divulging more.
She reached with her free hand, sliding it underneath her pillow to find the tattered, worn book she had thought she had lost when she gone missing those five years prior. Warin had returned it to her, explaining he had come back to the monastery long after the Empire had abandoned it to find if it had survived the raiding and ruin, and he had kept it on him ever since. The diary had seen better days, but it was still intact, and her brother had refused to keep it when she had returned to all of them. He reasoned it belonged to her, and after a small argument, she had taken it back into her custody. Now, she pulled it out and into her lap, her fingers brushing gently across its cracked spine before she asked Dimitri quietly, "Do you know what this is?"
"Your father's diary... I remember you reading it in his office, shortly after..." Dimitri answered just as quietly, and the hand that was holding his tightened in search of comfort that he was ready and glad to give. She didn't look up, but rather just stared down sadly at the scratched leather casing, and he ached to see the sorrow and the grief in her eyes. She had reminded him on the bridge that she had only lost him several moons ago, not five years as it had been for everyone else, and he could see now just how fresh that loss truly was. It made him wonder, wonder of things he knew he could not yet ask when that grief was still so near, but he held her hand all the same when he asked instead of more gentler topics, "You kept it all this time? It survived the fall of the monastery?"
"Warin went back for it. After the Empire had their fill of destroying the monastery... He went back and combed through the ruins. I was dead and gone to him, so he wasn't there for me, but he knew I didn't keep it on me in battle. I was too afraid to have it ruined. He went searching and found it in my quarters. He kept it with him during his exile... and he gave it back to me when we reunited here." Raine explained with a small, sad smile, and still she wondered at her brother's heart, and his idiocy. Of course he would have turned back for something as simple as their father's journal, risking his neck for something he didn't truly need... but she knew better than to truly judge him. He had been in mourning then, too. And their father's journal was the last thing, the only thing, he had to remember both Jeralt and her by in those cruel years. "I've read it... so many times since it was left to me... and I learned quite a lot. Not just about my father, but about my mother, about the church... and also about myself. Father kept many secrets, and he had good reason to keep them... But I promised myself that if I... If I were to ever be... close... to someone... I wouldn't keep those secrets to myself. It wouldn't be right of me to do."
Dimitri wasn't sure how to reply to that, and he looked slowly from the journal in her lap, and to the quiet, sombre look on her face. Her words concerned him, but likely not in the way she was thinking. He turned his hand over underneath hers, his fingers reaching to cover her smaller one in his before he delivered a calm, tight squeeze. He hadn't had the chance to know the former knight-captain in the way he would have liked to. But what little he did know... He had always liked, and had always admired. Jeralt was a strong man, devout to his family and to his men, both in his mercenary troupe and under his command as knight-captain, but there had never been a doubt that all he did, all he had ever done, had always been for his children. Even if it had extended to keeping secrets... Dimitri began slowly, quietly as he watched Raine bite her lower lip as she struggled with her thoughts, "Professor..."
"Raine." The correction came swiftly, but with incredible gentleness, and Dimitri felt a heat surge both north and south from his stomach as those bewitching seafoam-green eyes pierced him through like a lance. Her voice was tender, as was the way her fingers were brushing against his as they let their hands remain tightly clasped. He heard himself swallow audibly, unable to reply, and her smile was half parts affectionate, half catlike in amusement as she explained almost pertly, "If you and I are to be as I'd like us to be... You can't call me by anything else but my name. I know it might be an adjustment, but... That is one thing I won't be budging on. Anything else can be open to negotiation but that."
"Gods, but you're a temptress..." Dimitri almost growled, but with effort, great effort, he forced himself to remain seated and relaxed next to her. Hearing her say such things aloud, so boldly and honestly... It took every ounce of self-control he had not to push her flat onto the bed and forget all else. Did she know what weight her words had? If she did, she was torturing him, and enjoying every last moment of it. If she wasn't... Then she was going to learn very quickly just how easily he could be wrapped about her little finger. Already he was a willing slave... If she said much more, he would soon be a willing, and happy one. He swallowed that knot in his throat down, hoping beyond hope his more... physical reactions were hidden by his trousers and his cloak, but it didn't stop his voice from remaining husky when he answered her, "As you wish... Raine."
Raine took a moment as a delicious shiver curled its way lazily up her spine at the sound of her given name leaving his lips, and she, too, had to remind herself that any and all of her wants had to remain second to the matter at hand. But she did want him, and that fact was not in dispute for either of them now. She looked back down to the journal in her lap, hoping that the burning in her face would subside soon enough, as she gathered herself before beginning quietly, slowly, "It's... a long story, so I'll attempt to keep it brief for you, but... I think the context is just as important as the facts I want you to know... And, before you ask... Father entrusted this to me, so what I share, and who I share it with is a choice I get to make. I know he wouldn't be angry with me for it."
"If that's what you wish, I won't argue. You knew your father better than I... but... If I might ask one question...?" Dimitri hated to interrupt her, especially when he saw how difficult it already was just to be speaking of her father, let alone the myriad of things he may have written in his diary... but he could not help it. She was putting so much importance of reading him into these secrets that her family had kept, and for the life of him, he couldn't quite understand why. He had already known and accepted that the Eisner family simply had their reasons to have lived as they did, and he had long ago stopped questioning it. It was not his right to know, nor was it his business. Whatever small details Warin had seen fit to share with him then, when he had been young and more trustworthy, had been his to divulge, and they had never been asked for. He couldn't lie, and say that her actions now weren't discomforting. "Why are you so intent... on telling me this now?"
"You want me to say words to you that... I just can't say unless you know these things about me. About my family. I know that doesn't make sense yet, but... It's for my own peace of mind." Raine answered honestly, but she shifted uncomfortably next to him, all the same. They weren't secrets she kept gladly. They weren't secrets she wanted to share with anyone, either. But he had asked her to give him honesty, to give him reassurance, but she simply could not, unless she gave him the whole truth first. And... She smiled sadly, feeling that phantom pain again somewhere deep within as the rest of her body ached to compensate for what could not work before she added in a murmur, "And... It's in case you choose to reject me, once you know the truth. I won't... bind you to me in any sort of way... without you knowing everything first. Because in the end, once you know everything... You very well may wish to. And if you do, I won't blame you. But... I promised these secrets... deserved to be told before something happened."
Dimitri bristled unconsciously, hating that sad look on her face, and moreover, the way she spoke so quietly, so assuredly of the idea that he could wish to reject her on the basis of her family's secrets. If anyone was in the place, and had the right to do the rejecting, it was her. He knew full well who he was and what he had done, and still she clung to his hand like a lifeline. He would abide by any of her wishes, to stay or to go, but he couldn't fathom a situation where he would simply leave unless she ordered it of him. He knew it was selfish. He didn't deserve her, nor the happiness or the peace she could give him... but for her wants, he would do anything. To hear her say he'd leave... He shook his head slowly, his hand tightening about hers as he told her quietly, intensely, "Nothing you could say to me, barring an order to go, would be capable of making even think of leaving you. Until the time comes when you've had enough of me and want me gone... I intend to be your shadow, your sword, and your shield."
"I appreciate that, Dimitri... but you shouldn't make promises like that, when you don't know everything." Raine shook her head even if the comfort was warming, and idle, but experienced fingers flipped the diary in her lap open, rustling through the pages with ease to find the entry she wanted, and needed, to begin with. She didn't need to look up to see his expression, dark, intent, and certain, and while a small, selfish part of her was honestly happy to see that... She knew it wasn't fair of her to take it from him. He had the right to know everything, if he truly was willing to commit to her as she wanted to commit to him. And she would keep no secrets from him. "I'll tell you, and once I'm finished... You can make a choice of your own, and I won't hold anything against you. I do this because if I were you... I'd want to know. I can't say what I would do, but... I would want to know. Is that fair enough?"
"If that's how you wish for things... Then I will not argue." Dimitri eventually allowed the words to pass his lips, but the tasted incredibly bitter on his tongue as he spoke them. He still did not understand her fatalism, her quiet acceptance of him leaving her if he so chose, but... He had been in enough battles by now, and had been cowed enough, to know this was a fight he could not win. More than anything, he wanted to respect her wishes, to ensure she knew he was putting her desires and needs before his own. It was high time that someone beyond her brother started doing so, and even if he was too late... He would still do all he could, from her side, or the shadows.
"All right... Then, let's begin here, with this entry... " Raine ducked her head as her fingers gently ran over the long-dried ink and the crinkled parchment paper her father had written upon. Still, after so many long years of it being buried by her father, then hidden under rubble, and carried about in her brother's rucksack as he wandered to and fro across the continent, it still held up as well as any of the texts she could find the library of the monastery. She hoped to keep it like that, regardless of the impossibility of the task. It was all she had of him, after all... and she did not want to lose it twice. She began quietly, softly, knowing Dimitri was close to enough to hear, and feeling that familiar ache of bittersweet pain as her voice blended with the memory of her father's in her quiet room, "'Day 20, of the Horsebow Moon. All is cloudy. I can't believe she's dead.'..."
AN:
Don't worry, this is only part of the "reconciliation" bits between Raine and Dimitri! I'm not cutting anything out, especially any fun, juicy bits, but this chapter has run on long, and I don't really do thirteen-pagers anymore seeing as it's both physically painful on me, and usually kind of boring for my readers. I'm keeping things relatively smooth and to the point, and the upcoming part, of more "truths" coming to light between a relatively calmer Raine and Dimitri, is incredibly important to focus on. It deserves its own chapter, and so it will have one. Unfortunately, it does mean a longer pause on the "action" bits, as well as the central plot of AM, but I promise there's still plenty of that to be had. After all, AM is no longer AM. At least, not in this iteration that I'm writing!
It's kind of unfortunate, but also understandable, that Jeralt's diary really never got any more play than it did in the game on Byleth's discovery of it. While it gives giant hints for later doings in certain playthroughs (Silver Snow), it's not really used much as a medium to explore Byleth as a character, nor does it ever really get "shared" with through the other lords, or love interests (barring Claude, who harasses you into a non-standard, But Thou Must! gameplay bullshit of allowing him to take it from you) but even with that, not much is ever said or done about the things Jeralt writes about. There's tidbits remarking on his relationship with his wife, but little precious else is ever revealed or talked about, which, to me, is a huge waste. A paralogue could have easily been written about it, perhaps finding your mother's favourite flowers in a distant area and your class willingly taking up the search with you to help alleviate your grief, etc etc... But, alas.
Regardless, to me, and to Raine, I find it very important to continue to reflect on Jeralt, as well as the secrets that were kept, the reasons those secrets were kept, and the backstory, (however incomplete it might be at the time) that is all Raine knows of her family, and her own existence. While the whole truth will eventually come out, I am not dangling Raine/Dimitri in front of myself and everyone else until that point in the story. It's simply unfair, and not quite realistic considering all things. But that's just me, who thoroughly enjoyed being married in-game, and feeling the stakes rising because of "getting out alive together" rather than, "if we both survive, we can enjoy a good future". The concept of grabbing happiness, however small and however brief while you can in the midst of wartime is one I wholeheartedly believe in, and I really don't think these kids didn't have similar ideas of their own.
Anyway, that's it for me for the moment, as I've been sick, and am having a hard time continuing to look at computer screens for extended periods of times. Hopefully it all passes soon enough, so I can get on with things. Believe it or not, I am actually really looking forward to Fhirdiad, as well as Arianrhod quickly after, so I want to keep bulldozing along! Thanks as always for continuing to read, and please drop me a review if you feel the need. Have a good one, until the next time!
Mood: Sick.
Listening To: "Endless War" - Within Temptation
~ Sky