Sorry for the wait! I had the chapter planned out and half-way written before deciding I would save the concept for a later chapter. Thus, I had to rewrite everything from scratch :3
Reviews!
Dragon lord Syed: Yes! Blue Lions FTW!
Random Fan: Thank you! And time shall tell wether it's a good thing or not, and, *squints at equation* why, You solved it too! :D
Guest: Byleth was only teaching for two days, and only the Golden Deer on top of that—so Felix isn't aware of her abilities yet!
Klaw117: Oh ho! Don't worry, I've got lots of No Nonsense Byleth to go around :D
Yeah I personally see Dimitri as suicidal due to his supports as well, that being said your critique last chapter was certainly noted!
The scene at this chapter's beginning was loosely inspired by royaltyjunk's story "Azure and Crimson". It's a cute little fic showcasing his/her interpretation of "what it Dimitri and Edelgard has support convos?" Go give it a read!
Anyway, a huge thank you to all my readers for all the support thus far and I pray you enjoy the chapter! It's a lil shorter than the last two but adding on to it ruined the tone when I tried. Next chapter should be longer though!
Chapter VII: The Hresvelg Curse
Edelgard tossed her Flame Emperor Mask atop her bed before stripping herself out of the rest of the crimson armour. She had been called to yet another frivolous meeting immediately after the Mock Battle had concluded and hadn't even consoled her classmates or congratulate the Blue Lions.
Why didn't the Agarthans do their dirty work? Did Edelgard have to do everything?
Bastards.
Edelgard had just finished latching the trunk containing her armour and sliding it under her bed when she saw a shadow darkening the light underneath her door.
She got up, opened the door, and predictably, Dimitri stood on the other side, fist poised to knock and a surprised look on his face.
"You must be careful; visiting my room so frequently could start some unfavourable rumours, Dimitri," Edelgard stated as she leaned against the doorframe. A light smile graced her lips as Dimitri's eyes darted this way and that, searching for witnesses while his cheeks faded pink.
"I'm teasing."
"Oh! Oh, of course you were. I was just..." Dimitri paused, tugging awkwardly at his collar before holding up his arm out to her. "Do you...sew?"
Edelgard glanced at the torn fabric and rose an eyebrow. "I can. Why do you ask? Can none of your Lions help you?"
"The only one who sews in my House is Mercedes and she's busy making treats for our victory feast. I'd change but...my three extra tops are being washed. Of course if you're busy too—"
Edelgard stepped back into her room and gestured Dimitri inside with a quick tilt of her head. "I'm not the greatest when it comes to sewing, but I can help."
Dimitri smiled gratefully and walked in, sitting on the bed as Edelgard pointed to it.
"Congratulations on your win today," Edelgard said over her shoulder as she took her sewing supplies from the bottom drawer of her dresser. "That was quite the finishing blow."
Dimitri flushed once more at the praise and let out a bashful, "Thank you, Edelgard; that means a lot coming from you. Do you sew a lot?"
"No," Edelgard responded, placing the ivory case atop the bed and clicking open the latches. "It was a skill my older sister taught me and like all skills it has its uses— but I prefer to replace torn clothes rather than sew it back together. It becomes whole again, yes, but it's never as perfect as it once was."
Edelgard picked up a spool of black thread and a thin needle before shutting the case again.
Dimitri seemed about to say something for his lips parted and there was a curious furrow to his brows. However, he shook his head seconds later and closed his mouth again while Edelgard began her work.
She pushed the needle in through one half and threaded it through the other, stopping when her gaze found the raised tissue of a scar, dark and vivid against the pale skin of Dimitri's bicep.
"That's an old scar," Dimitri said, noticing her staring. "A burn from the flames of Duscur."
Edelgard let out a hum of acknowledgement and continued, getting lost in the rhythmic in and out, in and out. It was a bit like dancing.
Perhaps she should sew more often.
"I never thanked you," Dimitri said quietly.
"For the sewing? I'm not done—"
"I speak of yesterday—more specifically last night."
Edelgard stopped sewing abruptly and inhaled slowly. Just when she had buried that encounter into her subconscious.
"You didn't have to defend me from Felix, nor did you have to save me from...my personal folly—yet you did." Dimitri looked down at her intensely, the finger of his hand tapping nervously atop the mattress and Edelgard could hear the hesitant, questioning subtext in his words.
Edelgard continued sewing, thought carefully of her next words, and said, "Like I mentioned before, I dislike acts of self-deprecation. I also happen to dislike those that feed such actions within others, that's all."
The subtext behind her words were sharp enough to cause Dimitri to flinch. Only slightly, but it was still noticeable in the way his exposed muscle tensed and his jaw clenched in an almost painful looking manner.
"I-I see," Dimitri said, those two words thick and heavy with that now all too familiar Kicked Puppy Voice. He averted his gaze and there was a distinct slump to his shoulders.
But Edelgard wasn't being completely being honest with Dimitri or herself, was she? No, her personal feelings towards self-deprecation wasn't all that had spurred her to slap Felix or save Dimitri's life.
It certainly didn't explain the wave of indignation that had caused her to verbally and physically protest at Felix's words, and then the dread that pumped adrenaline through her veins when she saw a teary eyed Dimitri staring down out his window with a glassy barely present gaze.
It was almost like a faraway and buried affection had just—
She sighed softly to herself. This was for the best; as Arundel's weapon he'd be used until he was useful and then disposed of. Getting close would simply hurt too much once his usefulness inevitably ended and she would not be controlled by pain. Never again.
But still, he needed to know that it wasn't personal. She didn't want to fester his horrible case of self-loathing after all.
"You must understand I'm not like you, Dimitri," Edelgard said finally as she finished sewing and began knotting off. "I can't simply open my heart to just anyone—"
"But you aren't just anyone!" Dimitri cried passionately, gripping her sewing hand in an iron grip and causing the needle in her hand to clatter to the wood.
"Dimitri what on—?" Edelgard tried pulling her hand away but Dimitri only squeezed it tighter.
"You—you're...!" He locked eyes with her and searched her gaze with desperate eyes. Whatever he saw clearly disappointed him however, for his face fell and the grip on her hand slackened enough for Edelgard to yank free.
"I'm sorry," he murmured as Edelgard rubbed her now bruising wrist with a scowl.
"Do refrain from snatching my hand, Dimitri," she said irritably before snipping the dark thread and wrapping the excess around the black spool.
Dimitri traced a finger down the threads of Edelgard's labour and silently watched her pack away the sewing utensils before whispering, "Of course, I know. I just wish you could remember. I wish we weren't strangers."
Edelgard placed the case in her drawer and said nothing waiting for Dimitri to leave.
"Why?" He said instead.
Edelgard let out an irritated breath and turned to him with glare. "I told you why. I—"
"No. Why can't you remember?"
Edelgard faltered, throat closing up as memories of dark cells and needles and artificial lights—memories she had trampled on and shoved to the back of her mind came rushing out, memories that had neatly covered nearly any happiness that had ever existed in her childhood.
"I don't know," Edelgard lied, mostly succeeding in keeping the tremor from her voice. She clenched and unclenched her fists, suddenly self-conscious of the scars those silk cloves concealed—what her entire outfit concealed. "I just don't."
"I see," Dimitri quietly, brows furrowed sadly and head nodding in a reassigned manner. "I see."
A tense silence permeated the small room before with slight hesitation, Edelgard placed a hand on Dimitri's shoulder and squeezed lightly. "I'm sorry, Dimitri."
Dimitri glanced at the hand then back at Edelgard. "What must I do? What must I do for you let me in?"
Edelgard stepped back and turned away from him. "I'm not entirely sure that's possible."
More silence before Dimitri murmured a, "Thank you again, Edelgard," And bowed, turned on his heel, and exiting the room as Edelgard's hand fell to that cursed dagger.
-o0o-
Dimitri did not classify himself to be a bookworm. Of course while a good tale or intriguing history book was fine every once and a while, he much more enjoyed the rush of training or horse riding to the stationary practice of looking at words.
But Dimitri did classify himself as a person who couldn't let others down—especially his loved ones. He also classified himself as one who would rather not dwell on Edelgard's rejection from earlier that day and balm the sting with some work.
And so even though he should be sleeping or preparing for this moon's mission, and couldn't care less about armour pieces, there he was sitting alone in the library. A book of armour sprawled across the table before him and a candle breaking the heavy darkness.
Sighing as he flipped to the final illustration of the book, Dimitri shut it sharply and the sound echoed throughout the library. This one didn't have any resemblance to the Masked Man's armour either.
Perhaps the armour wasn't even documented, perhaps Dimitri was wasting his time. But he needed to do something. In all his time at the Monastery, he hadn't gotten any closer to avenging his loved ones and had even tried throwing his life away!
If only the coward hadn't been masked; finding him and gutting him would be far easier.
Dimitri took the now useless book and inserted it in its slot within the bookshelf he found it. That armour had to be connected to something certainly? An organization, a person, a particular part of Fódlan, he just needed to properly remember...
...the bright flames and burning flesh and running for his life while—
No. Dimitri sucked in a slow breath and squeezed the candle holder so hard that the metal dented under his thumb. Just the armour, just the armour.
Yes, it was heavy...yet he recalled the wearer had no trouble moving. The two coloured mask was prominent and certainly the colour red—
Red.
Of course!
Dimitri quickly sped-walked over to the history section of the library, fingers gliding over book spines and squinting at the titles through the bobbing candle light, mouthing them silently.
"Here!" He whispered to himself excitedly, gripping and eagerly pulling out a book titled An Updated History of Adrestia.
Perhaps it was a stretch, perhaps this wasn't narrowing the search at all, but by the Goddess it was something and he would rather cling to that than nothing at all for the sake of his loved ones.
Dimitri sat back at his desk and opened the book to its index, finger shakily seeking for the word "armour" before flipping to the referenced pages.
It was there that Dimitri's excitement slowly melted away like the candle wax before him. The Adrestian armour was hardly different from that of Faerghus's or the Alliance's, or even the Church's. And the only red pieces of armour mentioned in the text were those belonging to the personal guard of the Emperor or Empress.
No mention or illustration of two coloured masks, feathers, or of some special metal that could allow its wearer to move freely—nothing.
Dimitri let out a frustrated growl and slammed his fist atop the desk, uncaring of the splintering would and fighting the urge to grab the book and fling it across the room.
Just when he thought he had something!
Dimitri ran his hand through his hair and sucked in a calming breath before he began flipping at a faster rate, lingering for only seconds on a page before moving on to the next. This couldn't be it, there had to be something else—
The next page Dimitri flipped to gave him pause.
"El?" He murmured, staring surprisingly at the detailed illustration. It was a younger version of her, the one he remembered, the one with pig tails and eyes filled with stubbornness and childish boredom as opposed to cool indifference and constant calculation.
Eyes that had been filled with affection and recognition for him instead of formal detachment.
Beside her, were equally detailed depictions of young people—the eldest appearing to be in her early twenties and the youngest was a little boy at least five or six.
Above the illustration in bold ominous letters were the words:
The Hresvelg Curse
"Curse?" Dimitri repeated. Edelgard had been apart of a...curse?
The Masked Man's armour temporarily pushed to the back of his mind, Dimitri continued reading.
Emperor Ionius IX was blessed with twelve children. However, in the Imperial Year 1176, all twelve mysteriously disappeared—a strange thing since the family had been known for their love of travel and commoner interactions. The Emperor never gave an explanation and Adrestia became rather worried for their princes and princesses. None of them returned but one; the young Edelgard von Hresvelg, two years after her and her siblings' disappearance and very sickly and weak. Nevertheless, she was swiftly made heir apparent.
There are many speculations about what has happened to the other eleven children but no hard evidence. Some say they were kidnapped and only Edelgard was lucky enough to escape, others claim they all had gotten sick and perished, some also claim that Edelgard herself killed her siblings in a mad power grab for the throne. But the most popular theory is that the Goddess herself passed judgment on Emperor Ionius IX's seed and cursed them as divine punishment. [See page 530 on the Adrestian's distasteful dislike towards the Goddess and the Religion of Seiros]
Never in recorded Adrestian history has an Emperor or Empress lost so many heirs—especially at such a peaceful and prosperous time. With such poor luck striking the most recent Emperor and speculations that it was the Goddess who had struck him, this tragic turn of events were appropriately dubbed, "The Hresvelg Curse."
Dimitri sat back in his chair and balked at the passage in utter horror and disbelief. Eleven siblings, eleven loved ones.
Gone.
"Oh, El..." Dimitri whispered thickly, tracing a finger against the outline of the little girl in the picture.
"I didn't think anyone else had the admirable habit of visiting the library late."
Dimitri yelped and swivelled in his seat, finding a familiar smiling figure holding a candle aloft.
"Tomas! I hope this is permitted I—"
"No, no, young man. Don't you worry; I'm no tattletale!" Tomas smiled kindly and hobbled over with his cane. "Say, what is it that has you up so late?"
"I-I was researching and came across..." Dimitri's voice trailed off as he turned back to those haunting bold black letters and that innocent little girl who had lost so much in so little time.
Much like himself, he reflected. That fact ushered in a fresh wave of understanding and heart clenching empathy.
"Ahhh," Tomas nodded, staring solemnly at the text still opened atop the wooden desk. "The HresvelgCurse."
"I don't understand—how did I not hear of this? Twelve heirs including El—Edelgard had dissipated into thin air!"
"The heirs of the Adrestian Empire disappeared in the same year your father, King Lambert met his end," Tomas said. Dimitri flinched at the reminder of his father's headless corpse and shuddered involuntarily.
"While this is well known in Adrestia, in Faerghus, The death of a beloved king was simply a bigger deal than the disappearance of twelve heirs of another Emporer."
"Is anyone looking for them?" Dimitri said. "Surely there's still hope—"
Tomas smiled then, and for a moment his eyes turned an inky black. Dimitri sucked in a sharp breath and blinked.
Tomas was frowning and shaking his head—not smiling, or staring into his soul with horrible eyes. His mind was probably getting tired.
"I fear there is no hope. Four years and no news? They are as good as dead."
Dead.
Dimitri looked down at the dead heirs—*children* drawn beside El, feeling immense agony for people he had never even met.
"What had The Emperor done? What had Edelgard done or any of those twelve children do to earn the Goddess's ire?" Dimitri said, shaking his head in bewilderment.
Tomas chuckled in an uncharacteristicly bitter way.
"Oh, Rhea would not like me saying this young man—no not at all, but the smart of us know that the Goddess cares nothing for us. She will soak in our praise, than ignore our prayers. Give happiness to those who don't deserve it and take it away from those who do."
Dimitri frowned, clenching his fists atop the table as Edelgard's young face flickered hauntingly in the candlelight. "I'm inclined to agree," he muttered.
"Well!" Tomas chuckled again, and for a moment Dimitri swore he saw those bottomless black eyes again but they were gone once more when he blinked. "What an interesting thing to say, Prince Dimitri."
-o0o-
"It seems Manuela is a rather capable professor when she's sober," Edelgard told Hubert as the two packed their writing equipment and books back into their satchels, the Monastery bell ringing merrily in the afternoon. "I've never practiced faith magic in a long time but the instruction was extremely helpful."
"I suppose," Hubert drawled uncaringly. "But I have no interest in white magic."
"I'm certain it isn't the only thing she's good at. We're sure to—"
"Edelgard?"
Edelgard was in the midst of packing her ink when she looked up to find Dimitri standing by the Eagle homeroom. He was rubbing his arm awkwardly and his brows were pinched.
Hubert narrowed his visible eye. "Prince Dimitri, your blatant obsession with Lady Edelgard is nauseating."
"Hubert!" Edelgard scolded as Dimitri flinched and looked away, flushing scarlet. Of course Dimitri's...fascination with her could be mildly agitating, but he didn't have to say it out loud!
"No, no, he's right," Dimitri sighed, stepping into the classroom with a hesitant stride. "Can...we talk? Alone? I promise it won't take long."
Edelgard gave Hubert a meaningful sideways glance and he harrumphed before walking out with an air of displeasure, levelling Dimitri with a look of pure disdain as he did so.
"I'm busy this afternoon," Edelgard said once Hubert was gone. "So if you're attempting to invite me somewhere—"
"Your siblings," Dimitri said quietly, taking a seat in the desk next to her.
Edelgard couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her mouth and the widening of her eyes. Couldn't stop memories of little Sebastian dying in her arms, strong and protective Agnes cackling madly into the night, Rowen—
Edelgard swiftly regained her bearings and stared at Dimitri with a mask of perfect neutrality, even though her mind was spewing question after question and horrible memory after horrible memory.
"What of them?" Edelgard said cooly, taking a seat as well. She noticed that Dimitri was fiddling with the hem of his sleeve, rocking slightly, biting his lip.
"I-I didn't know," Dimitri whispered, words laced with guilt as he reached for her, then stopped. "I didn't realize...Goddess I've been so selfish."
"Dimitri. How do you—what does my siblings have to do with you being—?"
"I wanted nothing more than to be friends again, for you to open up to me. But...every time it felt like we were going somewhere, you'd pull back. And not once did I assume that—that you were scared."
Scared. Edelgard was anything but scared. Scared was the Edelgard of old; the little girl who cried into her sleeping cot everynight, who watched her beloved siblings die immediately on operation tables, or go mad, or become hopelessly sick, or transform info horrible beasts, who once naively believed the Goddess helped people and begged for her divine aide every night she was dragged screaming towards the cell at the end of the hallway—the cell she knew was filled with horrible—
Edelgard scowled, fists clenching and lips pursing. "Scared? You think me a coward, Dimitri?"
"No!" Dimitri said quickly. "Not all! Perhaps I used the wrong word—apprehensive, timid, cautious—"
"What are you trying to say?" Edelgard said tightly with narrowed eyes.
"I'm not trying to offend I—!" Dimitri stopped, regained himself and then continued slowly, "I had no idea that you...you lost so much already. But I of all people should have sensed that you were in pain; that you weren't ready to let anyone in and yet I kept pushing you! I—"
Dimitri faltered once more and clenched his fists atop his lap, his blonde hair fell over his face like a golden curtain as he looked down. Edelgard was about to open her mouth to respond when Dimitri looked up again and placed a hesitant hand over her own that rested atop the desk. "Forgive me, Edelgard."
And then she remembered Father, shedding tears of grief, squeezing her hand as her barely conscious form was cradled in his arms. "Forgive me, El. Forgive me. Oh, my poor little girl.."
Edelgard slowly pulled her hand from under Dimitri's and struggled to control her breathing. The prince's words greedily attempted to tear off the elegant wrapping paper of her mask and reveal the memories beneath. Bird masks and blood, begging, crying—
"Enough." Edelgard stood up sharply and glared at Dimitri, barely controlling the shaking in her voice but in truth she couldn't tell if she was hissing at her mind or at him. "I don't want your pity. I don't need—"
"I'm only here to apologize, Edelgard. It was wrong of me to push you," Dimitri said soothingly, standing up as well and holding up his hands in a placating manner. "Not to pity you, but to apologize. And...to tell you that I will leave you alone from now on."
Slowly, Edelgard's glare softened before she closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath, pushing away the vivacious shadows of her past back into the crevices of her mind and beneath her mask where they belonged.
"I...accept your apology," Edelgard said, opening her eyes once she was certain her mask had returned properly. "Is that all?"
Dimitri smiled in relief and nodded. "That is all." He turned to leave but hesitated, looking back to ask, "I read they—and you—only went missing. Do you think there's a possibility—"
"No." Edelgard clamped down on the memories of eleven pairs of dead unseeing eyes before turning away from Dimitri and continuing to pack.
"I know you said you didn't want my pity," Dimitri said quietly. "But...I truly am sorry."
Edelgard let out a shuddering breath and didn't answer. Only when she heard Dimitri's retreating footsteps did she let a few tears rim her eyes. Damn him. Damn him for taking her back! Her vision blurred and a lump formed in her throat as she remembered them all—all eleven of them and how she—
She couldn't cry; she wasn't a little girl anymore, and her siblings were gone.
Edelgard frustratedly rubbed away the tears and blinked repeatedly until they disappeared. Another few breaths brought the mask back up and just like that, she was ready to face the world once more.
-o0o-
AN: The Emporer looses ELEVEN CHILDREN and Fódlan is just all "Y'all hear sum?" Unless I missed something, only Edelgard ever mentioned this seriously messed up thing. Ah well, I got a lovely plot point and some character development out of it! Thanks Fódlan!
Also, I'm not the only one who not once trusted Tomas, right? I dunno if it was my irrational phobia for old-people kicking in or internal character judgment stuff but I didn't buy his sweet grandpa routine for a DAMN SECOND. And when he was all like "LOOL I was evil the whole time! You were fooled weren't you? WEREN'T YOU?!" I rolled my eyes so hard they got stuck behind my skull.
Anywho, I dedicated a lot of time thus far exploring Dimitri's childhood trauma but I thought it was time Edelgard got some spotlight! Man I actually really loved writing this chapter!
Hope you enjoyed!
Fantasy Fan OUT!