Chapter Text
“Stay still and let me punch you, you bastard!” his soulmark said and Dimitri was very much Not Happy.
His father was laughing tough, wheezing and on his knees as though it were the most hilarious words he had seen in his entire life. Which it was not.
“Dad,” he whines. “My soulmate hates me!”
“Oh, Dimitri don’t worry,” his father reassures, still chuckling.
“How could I not?” His father laughs again, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his elbow and the words, “Why the hell are you still alive? That was cyanide you bast-”
His father returns his sleeves to its regular place as he smiles. “Those were your mother’s first words to me.”
“What is cyanide?” he asks, his sniffles slowing.
“A very special potion that would’ve put me to sleep, a forever kind of sleep,” his father explains and Dimitri wonders if his mother was a witch.
His father laughs at that and didn’t explain any further.
Dimitri didn’t really understand what circumstances where those words would appear but he had an inkling that he didn’t want to know either.
Dimitri huffs, tears still pricking at the edges of his eyes. “Yeah, well, even if yours is worse that doesn’t make this better.”
“At least you’ll have an interesting first meeting,” his father says, unhelpfully.
“Not helping, Dad.”
A boy with black hair and vicious brown eyes stare down at Dimitri despite his short stature. More specifically at his neck and Dimitri wondered if he should’ve bought a band after all.
The boy then proceeds to throw a punch at him, to which Dimitri easily parries- but- was this his-?
“Stay still and let me punch you, you bastard!” the boy shrieked and Dimitri falters.
Oh, Goddess this boy was his soulmate-
His soulmate, fuming eyes and another punch ready- was this really his soulmate? What was this? Where were the lights? The skipping heartbeats? The fireworks?
“You- you are my-”
“Fuck no!” the boy- his soulmate?- spits. “I just want to teach you a lesson for being so ungrateful!”
“For what?” he shrieks. Dodging another blow from the boy- his not soulmate?- then who-
“Shut up and fight me!” the boy yells and they fight and Dimitri didn’t even know why.
Later, when they were both calm and bruised he learns that the boy is Felix and was the son of the kind mister Fraldarius who apologizes to him profusely. His father did look please though when he learned that Dimitri had bested Felix so Dimitri doubts that mister Fraldarius needed to apologize at all.
“So- you’re- you’re really not my soulmate?”
The boy, Felix with the piercing eyes and downturned lips rolls his eyes. “Fortunately, no, I am not the poor sod that’ll be stuck with you for life.”
Turns out Felix was right in that he wasn’t Dimitri’s soulmate, but he was also wrong as he was stuck with Dimitri until this very day.
Dimitri learns, at a very young age, that he was apparently very important. His father being the head of the Faerghus Corporation and he is the sole heir. His tutors had told him as such, hammered the point into his head that yes, he will be the heir, and as such, he needs to learn.
Dimitri likes to learn about the family business, like knowing the numbers and the order of things. To which Felix would call him a “fucking nerd,” which did not phase Dimitri anymore. In fact, Dimitri had learned that the correct response to such comment was a gentle, “fuck off.”
Felix looks exceedingly proud every time that exchange happens which did not make Dimitri any happier, but Felix had, in fact, become more mellow as he was told off so Dimitri considers that a win.
“As the heir of the Faerghus Corporation, I trust that you have already learned the names of your competitors?” his tutors asks. Clipboard in hand and pen at the ready. Her eyes are sharp like it always was and there was a rough way about her, as though she were meant for more combat than actual teaching.
“There is, of course, the Adrestian Conglomerate, our oldest competition,” he recalls. His tutor gives a nod and Dimitri finds the encouragement to continue. “There is also the Leicester Alliance, a new but just as fierce competitor.”
“Good, it seems like our lessons haven’t gone to waste,” she compliments and he blushes. “Now, who are their heirs?”
“Edelgard,” he replies eagerly. She sighs. “Edelgard von Hresvelg.”
A girl with silver hair and pretty words that says, “Flowers pale in comparison to your eyes, miss.”
His distant not-relative he could say, but they weren’t close. Even if Dimitri wishes they were.
He makes a note to talk to her more often, Goddess knows the girl needs it, with her only companion being a suspicious boy which Dimitri very much did not trust and a carrot.
“And?” his tutor prompts.
“Claude von Riegan,” he answers and for some reason, the name strikes a chord within him.
It was a nice name, he admits in the recesses of his mind. I can say it all day.
Even if he didn’t know how the heir of Riegan looks like Dimitri imagines he would be just as beautiful as his name.
“This is Dedue,” his father says, pushing the giant of a boy towards Dimitri.
“Hi,” Dimitri says. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Dedue seems to lighten up, somewhat, his stern face relaxing a bit and Dimitri finds that he wasn’t that intimidating anymore.
“Dedue is of the Duscur, as you can recall it is-”
“- the family that has been supporting us since our founders!” Dimitri finishes, a wide smile stretched across his lips. Finally, it has been three days after his twelve birthday and he was getting impatient.
“Yes, well, Dedue is to become the leader of the branch of Faerghus Corp. in Duscur and will be-”
“My most reliable ally, right?” he repeats, recalling his father’s words from years ago.
“Yes, exactly. So you two go and bond,” his father orders, shooing them off. When seeing that Dedue was not planning on moving anytime soon his father walks off by himself.
“I’ve been waiting to meet you,” Dimitri says. “It’s just been me and Felix and Ingrid, but now that there’s you we can finally play Monopoly with four players.”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you not enjoy Monopoly then?” Dimitri muses, somewhat disappointed. “Well, we do have other games such as-”
“Games?”
“Yes, games,” Dimitri repeats, taking Dedue by the arm and dragging him off. “We best follow what dad said now and bond.”
“Young master-”
“It’s Dimitri.”
“But, I-”
“Well look where we are!” he announces, opening the door to the sight of Felix and Ingrid lounging on their backs, what appears to be permanent marker inked on their faces.
“Who the fuck is that?” Felix asks from the ground, a bruise forming around his neck.
“Oh, don’t be so rude Felix,” Ingrid chides, pinching Felix on his arm.
“Fuck you,” Felix says, rolling away from Ingrid.
“Felix-”
“This is our final player for Monopoly!” he interrupts before a fight could erupt again, which wouldn’t be a very good first impression now.
“Really?” Felix asks dubiously.
“Young master-”
“Are you sure this fucker is ready to play in the big leagues?”
“Oh come on, Felix, look at him, I think he’s more ready than you are.”
“You- you witch!” Felix shrieks, looking as though he was really to dive onto Ingrid.
“Yes, I believe he’s ready,” Dimitri answers. Plying Felix away from Ingrid with his bare hands. “And you are, too, Felix.”
“Shut up you prick! I don’t need your-”
“Yeah, Dimitri you don’t need to lie to make shortie here feel better.”
Felix shrieks again and this time Dimitri didn’t feel the need to hold the raging bull back. Letting his hand go as Felix charges and Ingrid braces for impact.
“Welcome to our group,” Dimitri says. “There’s really no way to leave so you might as well make yourself comfortable.”
Dedue looks very concerned.
Turns out Dedue was terrible at Monopoly, whether that was due to his own luck or him donating all his property to Dimitri would be anyone’s guess.
Dimitri did win though, so there was that.
“If fucking Rushmore over there didn’t give Broadway to you then I would’ve totally won,” Felix argues.
“Of course,” Dimitri agrees but Felix continues to fume.
And, as it turns out, Dedue was killer at Cooking Mama.
He managed to impress virtual Gordon Ramsey as well, so Dimitri was pretty sure that his new business partner was going to become the next Master Chef.
Dimitri didn’t mind his soulmark that much anymore, not when he had eventually understood his parent’s.
A forever kind of sleep, indeed. Dimitri thinks, years after his father’s terrible attempt at comforting him.
Nothing could be worse than an attempted murder on a first meeting and Dimitri was glad that his soulmate only tried to punch him and not poison him with cyanide.
Though it does flare up sometimes, when he sees Felix and his (romantic, nice, wonderful) words across the boy’s wrist. Felix would say that they were trashy to which Dimitri would insult him because, really, who would rather have Dimitri’s words over Felix’s?
Felix himself, apparently.
Dimitri would’ve gladly said, “go ahead, take this and let’s trade.” But perhaps out of pure spite he wants for Felix to meet his soulmate and realize how good his soulmark is and collapse like the weak human that Felix actually was.
It would serve Felix right, to be done in by his own words.
Dimitri prays that Felix’s soulmate will be sturdy after seeing the destruction of another sandbag.
That didn’t stop Dimitri from fighting Felix, later, with fists and insults as they once again argue over soulmarks and which ones were better.
Dimitri, of course, wins. And is, thusly, correct.
Dimitri first sees the way Faerghus Corporation was not so clean when his father came home with red lining his suit and hands.
Ketchup, his father had said when he was too young to know what blood was. Just red paint.
But now, Dimitri knows.
The frequent snappish phone calls to an increasingly fearful speaker, the late nights, the loud bangs and muffled screams, the way his father’s subordinates would carry themselves, the red that lined his father’s suit and the poison that laces his mother’s lips.
Faerghus Corporation wasn’t clean and far from legal.
Dimitri learns this later as he was taught how to hold a gun, the way to use his hands to incapacitate, how to fight. How to lead, how to conduct business, legal and illegal. How to be strong and unbreaking, how to make allies and how to deal with enemies. Suddenly lessons from his youth about weapons weren’t so innocent anymore and his father’s hands weren’t so soft anymore.
His tutor was much gentler in these lessons, her words less harsh and her hands guiding.
Dimitri knows what it means to kill at seventeen. Hands still and pulse slow.
His tutor wasn’t there to guide him and his father stands in the background, present but merely watching.
He aims and-
The man was a traitor, he tells himself. His father’s gentle hand on his shoulder and soft words cooing in his ears. It’ll be okay, you’ll get use to it.
The man stares back at him, curvy lines on his collarbone that spells out: “I have always wanted to meet you.”
Dimitri wonders if his soulmate will have to wait for another life to meet the man.
You did well, he was a traitor, his father says and Dimitri nods. Finding his hand still and pulse slow.
Felix had seen Dimitri that day, gave a quick huff and draws his hands around Dimitri. His figure was warm and Dimitri places his head against Felix’s heart hearing it beat and wonders if his still does. He doesn’t cry but it was a close thing.
He wakes up one night, knife at his throat and weight pressing down on his chest. Dimitri doesn’t scream, instead, his arms reach out grabbing the knife in desperation as he wrestles the figure. Female? Male? Dimitri can’t tell-
He lands on top of them, hands bleeding and knife far away.
He places his hands around their throat and squeezes.
Dimitri’s hands were cold and his pulse slows, even after that.
“What are you moping around for?” Felix asks. Standing by Dimitri’s side with a training sword in hand. And Dimitri was suddenly reminded that the Fraldarius were “business” partners that also carried out assasination orders from his father.
“Nothing.” Felix groans and none too gently punches Dimitri.
“You’re a shit liar so don’t even try,” Felix sneers. “Now, what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”
“I killed an assassin the other day,” Dimitri answers, rather reluctantly. “Put my hands around their neck and watch as they suffocate.”
Felix pauses for a moment, eyes focused on his sword. “It was the right thing to do. Shitty assassins deserve to die.”
Dimitri purses his lips, fingers tightening around his lance. “I- killing is just- just-”
Felix, oddly, does not interrupt.
“- I’m not good at killing,” Dimitri says.
“You’re not shit at it,” Felix retorts, more mellow than most days. “It’s just that you can’t handle it.”
“I’m not like you, Felix,” Dimitri snaps, just as the lance breaks in his hands. “I’m not someone who can just kill with such ease, and forget about it the next day.”
“You’ve been born into the wrong family then,” Felix notes, voice still calm and placid. His eyes cutting into Dimitri, not angry, not anything really. And that was odd (be angry with me, be disgusted, be afraid-). “When you take over, you better be ready to deal death as much as you’ll receive it.”
“I don’t want that!” Dimitri snaps. “I don’t want to be like that- like- like you and father!”
“So?” Dimitri very much wants to punch Felix right now. “What are you going to do about it?”
Dimitri pauses. “What?”
Felix huffs, rolling his eyes, some emotions returning to him and Dimitri’s childhood friend was back. “You don’t want to kill, right? So what are you going to do about it?”
A pause.
“Don’t tell me you’re just going to roll over like a fucking bitch.”
“No- no of course not,” Dimitri retorts on instinct. “But what am I going to do?”
“Change what you don’t like,” Felix answers.
“What does that even mean?” Dimitri did not appreciate Felix and his cryptidness right now and he very much misses his friend’s old bluntness.
“Fucking hell,” Felix hisses under his breath. “You don’t like killing so stop the killing.”
“Stop it? How can I-”
“You’re the fucking heir, figure that shit out yourself,” Felix answers.
Answers as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
And maybe it was.
Oh, Dimitri thinks. Oh.
“Oh,” Dimitri says, pulse racing and hands warm. “Of course.”
“So stop fucking moping already.” Felix turns around, but there was a hint of a smile in his voice. “Your hissy fits are affecting my training.”
“Thank you, Felix,” Dimitri says a long forgotten smile forging its way onto his lips. “Really.”
“Shut up, boar,” Felix snaps, ears turning red. “But if you’re really thankful you better treat me to some ice cream right about now.”
It was three in the morning and impossibly cold.
But Dimitri nods, feeling warmer than ever.
It was cold, Dimitri thinks. Very cold.
Dimitri regrets not wearing a jacket but he wasn’t about to shiver in front of Felix, not when that would lead to another round of teasing and future insults about his brain and his lack thereof.
A flash of yellow catches his eyes as he sees a man leaning against a lampost. With a neon yellow shirt and matching pants. The man was clearly drunk and the funk of liquor clogs Dimitri’s nose. Dimitri knows he should walk away, dealing with strange drunk men was not a good idea. Yet something draws him closer to the man, in his thin t-shirt and equally thin jeans.
Thin t-shirts that seems to be doing wonders to show his lean chest and strong arms, Dimitri thinks rather distractedly, unable to feel the pull of Felix’s hand.
The man plops down to sit, placing his back against the lampost as he groans. Dimitri approaches him, feeling warmer with each step as the air around him heats up as he gets closer to the man.
“Dimitri-” that was Felix, and because it was Felix, Dimitri ignores him.
As he leans down towards the man a fist comes flying out (more like hastily shoved, with no real thoughts or strength but-) which he dodges easily. The man hissed, his eyes- green, vivid and neon just like his shirt but more beautiful- narrowing at Dimitri’s figure either to glare or to clear away the fog brought on by alcohol would be up to anyone’s guess.
The man licks his lips (quite nice, Dimitri notes and blushes because why-) and says, “stay still and let me punch you, you bastard!”
I see, Dimitri thinks, very distracted by the man’s eyes and lips. Oh.
“What the fuck are you-” Felix says and cuts himself off.
Thank the Goddess, that was one less thing to deal with. But this-
The man leans his face closer to Dimitri, his two hands (warm, how are they so warm? And soft, and nice, and-) grabs Dimitri’s face pulling it closer and Dimitri wonders if this is how he was going to lose his first kiss.
Not that he minds, not when his soulmate’s lips glisten under the lamppost and his eyes studying Dimitri like so.
Dimitri wonders if his soulmate was just as flustered as he was.
Probably not, but-
“Huh? Are you not Lorenz? Whoops. Sorry to you and your twin- haha,” his soulmate says a slight slur to his words as he leans back, hands falling to the ground. Dimitri misses his warmth already and-
Nice laugh, Dimitri brains notes, rather unhelpfully. I wouldn’t mind if he laughed at me forever.
Dimitri knows that his first words to his soulmate would be wonderful, it has to be, he had practiced it since day one of getting his words so Dimitri says, “It’s- you- I- I- I’m- hello, h- how’s your day going? It’s a pleasure to, um, meet you. I’m, well, um your soulmate-”
What-
No-
Why-
Where did my prepared first words go?
His laugh is nice and so are his eyes, Dimitri’s brain answers, forgetting the fully prepared speech that it has been practicing for years. I would let him punch me.
No-
Felix scoffs in the background and Dimitri wants to die.
Maybe he deserves to be punched, Dimitri thinks. I shouldn’t have dodged.
Yes, that would’ve been splendid, his brain says and Dimitri wants to strangle his own brain.
“Holy shit,” his soulmate says, neon green eyes wide (jewels, gems, stars, rocks- no- uh-). “So which one is it?”
“Huh?” Can he not see me? What-
“Which one’s my-” The man squinted. “Which one of you twins is my soulmate?”
The man leans closer, hair falling into his face as he once again places his hands (godly, beautiful, blessed, warm-) on Dimitri’s cheeks, studying Dimitri with his beautiful eyes (also blessed and great and-) and Dimitri’s heart races.
“It’s me,” Dimitri says (squeaked, Felix would later swear, you fucking squeaked like a dying hamster).
“Yeah, I was hoping that. You- you’re the more handsome twin. By a loooong shot,” the man says, leaning closer and- oh Goddess was he planning on kissing him? It would be early, certainly, but well it’s not like Dimitri could stop him, can he- his lips stops a breath before Dimitri.
Please, kiss me now, his brain screams and Dimitri agrees.
Instead, the man smiles and-
Oh, I think I’m in heaven, he thinks.
“Claude von Riegan,” his soulmate says, one morning. After his introduction to Felix which left Dimitri worried over his soulmate’s livelihood. His hair tousled and his eyes clear. Shirt crumpled into a corner of the room (when? why?) as he lays beside Dimitri (shirtless, his brain screams and his heart combusts) on Dimitri’s suddenly very cramped and small bed (again, when? why?). “That’s my last name. So what’s yours babe? Not that I don’t like your first name, of course, it’s just-”
“Claude von Riegan,” Dimitri repeats, a chill suddenly creeping up his back. A memory of long ago when the same name had crossed his lips before he even met his soulmate, a beautiful name that he knows now to belong to a beautiful man.
A name that belongs to the heir to the Leicester Alliance, his enemy.
Oh, Dimitri thinks. You should’ve poisoned me with cyanide instead.
“Yeah, that’s my last name,” Claude says, boyish smile and cheshire eyes. (How many people has he killed?)
Dimitri looks at him now, a man with messy brown hair, green eyes peeking down at him. A languidness to them as he leans on his side, hand supporting his head. He sees him now, shirtless and smiling, a subtle charm to his lips as they tilt and the way his green eyes shines so beautifully he thinks of this and says, “oh, that’s a great name.”
“Of course,” the man- Claude, his enemy, his soulmate- says. “So what’s yours?”
“I am Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd,” he says. Leaning to place his lips against Claude’s forehead. Hiding his frown and glinty eyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Claude von Riegan.”
Claude seems to still.
“Blaiddyd?” he asks, an edge to his voice.
“Yes, that is my last name,” Dimitri replies, moving his lips down to Claude’s cheeks. His skin is soft, Dimitri thinks. How would it be to kiss him?
How easy would it be to crush him?
Dimitri’s hands grow weak at the thought- no, no Dimitri wasn’t going to kill his soulmate- wasn’t going to kill anymore-
“You- you recognize me right?”
“Yes, of course,” Dimitri says softly. His mind racing- wondering what he should do- what he could do-
“So what is this? A last meal before we duel to the death?” Claude asks, still leaning on the bed. “You wouldn’t do that to your sweet soulmate, right? Right?”
“No- no, Claude,” Dimitri says before he could think, burying his face into the man’s hair. “Of course not.”
“We are enemies,” Claude says, softly, but his hand was tracing Dimitri’s back and his eyes hooded.
Facts, statements, they are enemies- or at least-
“Not us,” Dimitri says, feeling his heart race and pound against his chest. “Our family.”
“So?”
Dimitri thinks of Felix, of his simple answer- of how easily he says it, the casual confidence and Dimitri wants to be that man for Claude. Brave and strong, unyielding, a man Dimitri can only wishes to be.
But if it were for Claude- Claude and a peaceful future, then Dimitri thinks he can try.
“We’re going to change it,” he says, his hands clammy and his pulse racing. Claude bolts upright.
“What?”
“We’re going to change it,” Dimitri repeats. Feeling utterly besotted and charmed and brave-
“What- you- how-”
“We’re the heirs, what can’t we do?” Dimitri says, simple and clean. Like Felix, Dimitri thinks somewhat maniacally, Felix would be proud. The words feel unfamiliar around his tongue, rough, jagged words. But they fit, somehow.
“You- you- you-” Claude stammers before laughing, his laughter echoing in the room.
“You are utterly crazy and deranged,” Claude says, smiling and ah- there was his soulmate. “But I like that in a man.”
Claude leans down and-
Oh, it turns out that his lips are just as soft as Dimitri imagines.