Work Text:
“Apologies for the delay,” Dimitri says, brushing his cape to the side as he takes a seat at the dining table. Without keeping his study group waiting any longer, he hurriedly opens up his bifolium with notes he had jotted down during Hanneman’s seminar on reason yesterday and sets out his ink pot beside it.
Only when he looks up from his spread to ask Annette if he could borrow a quill does he realize that everyone at the table is unabashedly staring at him. Dedue, Ashe, Annette (who has an entire scoop of sorbet in her mouth and is not faring well at the task of hiding it), Mercedes, Sylvain, Felix, Ingrid— all of them.
“Is… something wrong?” he asks as he runs a hand through his hair. This wouldn’t be the first time a stray feather from an owl or a pegasus had found its way to his head, and it also wouldn’t be unusual for a leaf to be stuck in his hair, especially since he was in the gazebo a few moments prior.
No one says anything for a long moment, and Dimitri's restlessness increases by the second. It isn’t just his classmates who are blinking at him with unreadable expressions either; even the Black Eagles’ Bernadetta — who sprints out of any establishment Dimitri steps foot in — gapes at him from the table over.
Finally, Sylvain gasps, and Dimitri is thankful for it even if the sound is loud enough to startle a knight passing by. What Dimitri isn’t thankful for is the finger Sylvain points at him accusingly while saying, “You were with the Professor, weren’t you?”
“The boar reeks of noa,” Felix hisses, scrunching his nose up in disgust as if it isn’t his favourite fruit. “Did you really have to ask?”
“What?” Dimitri says, furrowing his brows. “Well, yes, I was invited to tea and—”
“So that’s why she was making sweet buns earlier today!” Mercedes chirps from beside him, interrupting Dimitri the very moment Sylvain jolts out of his seat, places his palms on the table, and sputters something Dimitri cannot comprehend.
Dimitri doesn’t know what to make of this situation. Are his classmates joking with him in a manner he doesn’t understand or are they cross with him for arriving at the dining hall a few minutes later than scheduled? He probably should have paid more attention during yesterday’s seminar to discern the reasoning behind their behaviour.
“Sit down, Sylvain,” Ingrid says, knocking her ruler against Sylvain’s gauntlet. “The world isn’t going to end because the Professor had tea with His Highness while you went around flirting with the visiting monks.”
“Indeed,” Ashe somberly says.
Frowning, Dimitri looks at all of them the same way Alois looks at those who don’t see the humour behind his well-timed jokes. Have they forgotten that the purpose of their meeting is to revise the key points of Hanneman’s seminar, and not to gossip about people — him or otherwise — having tea together? As the house leader of the Blue Lions, Dimitri should put a stop to this mindless chatter before it develops into a habit.
Despite trying his hardest to be a good leader as well as to reign in his curiosity regarding his classmates’ responses to his late arrival, he asks, “Is it that surprising for me to have tea with the Professor?”
“It just seems that Your Highness is the only one being invited to tea,” Dedue says, then, coming to Dimitri’s aid as he always has. “The Professor truly favours you, as she should.”
“‘Favours’? More like loves,” Sylvain scoffs before abruptly sitting down. Dimitri is confused by Sylvain’s actions until he turns to Ingrid, who is seated to Mercedes’ left, and understands that her smile is a caveat concerning Sylvain’s mortality.
“Ah. Loves to have me as a tea partner.” Dimitri leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “Is that right?”
Sylvain lets out a long groan until Ingrid shoots him another glare, and Felix mumbles wow under his breath as Mercedes giggles into her hand. Even Ashe turns a little pink— surely from trying to hold his laughter in so as to not offend Dimitri, even though Dimitri has told him time and again that it’s all right to treat him like a friend. But the joke (if it even is one) still evades Dimitri, so he turns to Dedue, who, instead of helping him this time, simply flicks through his seminar notes.
From the table over, Bernadetta is still giving Dimitri a funny look. So he clears his throat, ready to tell them to focus on the purpose of their meeting, which is the exact moment Annette recovers from the numbness the sorbet brought and exclaims, “The Professor has never invited any of us to tea, you know?”
“Nonsense.” Dimitri does not recognize what course this conversation is taking. “She spends time with all her students.”
“Not over tea,” Annette replies, drumming her fingers on the table to the beat of the knights marching through the aisle.
“That’s right,” Mercedes says, tucking some strands of hair behind her ear as she gathers her words. “It also feels like she has an excuse ready every time I invite her to tea.”
All seven of them must have planned this entire fiasco in advance, because they are doing an exemplary job of constantly talking about Byleth inviting Dimitri to tea even though they should have completed revising a third of the contents covered by Hanneman yesterday. Dimitri thought he could trust Dedue at least, but even he seems to be focused on the parchment in his hands, which means he must be a part of this conspiracy as well.
Sensing Dimitri’s distrustful gaze, Sylvain leans forward on his elbows. “It’s true, Your Highness. So, you know how the Professor likes to rummage around for odd things around the campus? Like weird seeds?”
“I’ve seen her pick up earthworms from the marketplace,” Ashe offers as Ingrid mentions something about Byleth emerging from the Golden Deer classroom with a few buttons, handkerchiefs, and coloured stones.
“Snails as well,” Dedue says, right before Annette hiccups and pushes her sorbet a few inches away from herself.
“Go on, Sylvain. And make it quick.” Dimitri doesn’t know why he’s entertaining this in the first place, but now that they have invested so much time into talking about this, he might as well just see it through to the end.
“Here’s the thing: I carried out an experiment pertaining to this.” Sylvain leans in even further, and the action compels Dimitri to do the same. “I placed a bag of almond blend tea a few feet behind me, and I called out to the Professor right when she was leaving the entrance hall. As I was talking to her about the upcoming mission, I could tell her attention was fixed on the tea, but she didn’t go towards it. Even after I told her that it would be great to have some tea before training!”
“And that…” Dimitri huffs, “is the inference of your experiment?”
“Precisely.”
Dimitri longs to go back to the gazebo where he could bask in the warm sunlight as he listened to the music playing in the cathedral, as well as Byleth’s gentle laughter. “If the Professor did not pick up your strategically placed tea… Have you considered that she could not have been able to because of its weight?”
“‘Because of its weight’? Have you seen her?” Felix spits. “She lifted a Fódlandy with her bare hands.”
Dedue startles at this but doesn’t say anything, so Dimitri continues, “If that is all, can we continue revising? Maybe she didn’t want to pick up the almond blend.”
“Because,” Sylvain gushes, ignoring half of what Dimitri said, “the Professor only wants to when Your Highness—”
“We aren’t getting anywhere with this,” Annette says, pouting. Dimitri smiles at her because there is a determined edge to her voice, which means she will aid him in steering this study group back to the right track. It’s about time at least one of them came to their senses in this group. However, a second later, a cunning grin is what she returns to him, and Dimitri raises his hackles. “There’s only one way to prove that the Professor is being biased towards His Highness when she invites students for tea.”
Now, this has everyone’s attention. Not Dimitri’s plea to return to — or begin, rather — their studies, but this. Even the Black Eagles’ Ferdinand, who was making his way to the bulletin board, had swerved mid-stride at the mention of his favourite beverage. Judging that the quickest way to get the rest of them to move on from this unexpectedly lengthy topic of discussion is to comply, Dimitri sighs, “Pray tell, Annette.”
“One month,” she replies, holding a finger up. “We will try our best for an entire month to get invited to tea as we keep reporting back with our progress. You’ll see exactly what we mean by the end of it, Your Highness.”
“Very well,” Dimitri finalizes with a nod. He reopens his bifolium before there is any other interruption, even though his heart skips a beat at the prospect presented to him. Did Byleth really consider him to be… special? Could it be?
Dimitri shakes the thought away and focuses on his notes; he needs to learn some more reason.
❀
To Dimitri’s astonishment, it isn’t Sylvain — whose eyes had been blazing throughout their study session in the dining hall last week — but Ashe who makes the first move to prove Annette’s hypothesis right. With a rather direct approach, at that.
“Stay here, Your Highness,” Ashe tells him, gesturing to a wooden pillar outside Byleth’s room.
Dimitri eyes the pillar with a hint of suspicion; he hadn’t realized until now how different the construction of this floor is in comparison to their dormitory upstairs. Ashe’s earnest gaze is quite persuasive, though, so Dimitri steps behind the pillar despite his lingering fear of its collapse.
Satisfied that Dimitri is hidden from sight, Ashe turns away and steps towards Byleth’s room. He takes a glittering box of mint tea leaves from his satchel and knocks at the door before Dimitri can fully register the fact that Ashe could also be devious when he put his mind to it.
“Hello, Professor,” Ashe says, holding up the box when Byleth returns the greeting. “Ferdinand gave me this. Do you want to try it out with me?”
The Professor should be physically incapable of saying no, Dimitri thinks, because it isn’t everyday that one comes across mint tea certified by Ferdinand von Aegir himself. More so when that very tea is being presented by Ashe, whose sweet smile could even melt the heart of someone as stern as Jeritza.
Dimitri contemplates leaving so he can train with Felix, preferring the physical ache that swinging his training sword would bring him over the little emotional pang he feels at the prospect of Byleth agreeing to have tea with someone else. At least he can understand why a reddened bruise on his arm pains him, which is not something he can say for this situation here.
“I have to prepare for tomorrow’s lesson,” Byleth says, then, and Dimitri looks up from his shoes with wide eyes. He must have misheard. “Can we do this another time, Ashe?”
“Oh, sure,” Ashe replies. Even though Dimitri cannot see him, he can hear the mirth in his voice. “Another time, then, Professor.”
The door creaks when Byleth shuts it, but the imperfect architecture of this dormitory is not what Dimitri focuses on as Ashe pokes his head around the pillar with a dazzling grin on his face. Was Dimitri feeling… relieved?
“You heard her. She has to prepare for tomorrow’s lesson,” Dimitri says, crossing his arms over his chest as Ashe’s smile gains even more radiance.
“All right then, Your Highness.” Ashe holds the tea out to Dimitri, waits for him to take it, then steps aside to make way for Dimitri. “You should try asking.”
Dimitri doesn’t protest simply because he knows Ashe’s downtrodden expression would bring about his acquiescence anyway, and he’d rather get this over with sooner than later. If Byleth had declined Ashe’s invitation, there is absolutely no chance that she would consider Dimitri’s request. This shouldn’t require more than a minute.
“Professor! Good afternoon,” Dimitri says, bowing when Byleth opens the door. She seems surprised to see him, judging by how she drops her quill yet catches it before it touches the ground, but nonetheless greets him with her kind smile. “Ashe gave this to me when he… was on his way to the library. I wonder if you’d like to have this with me? Oh, I understand if you have other matters—”
“Of course,” Byleth says. Dimitri, who was expecting to hear her refuse, stops nodding in acceptance and looks up in shock. “Just… give me a minute to pack things up?”
Dimitri only realizes that he’s staring at Byleth when she tilts her head at him. “Right! Yes, please take your time.”
As Byleth goes back to close up her journal and set her reference books aside, Dimitri chances a glance at Ashe, who… isn’t there anymore. Was he so confident that Byleth would agree to having tea with Dimitri that he had left already? Is it fine for Dimitri to assume that Byleth does consider him a bit more special than the others?
“I’m ready,” Byleth says, effortlessly snapping Dimitri out of his thoughts. “Let’s go.”
“It was a coincidence,” Dimitri repeats for the third time. This only makes Ashe and Sylvain grin wider in the corner of the dormitory they had crowded him into, but Dimitri stays firm. “She must have finished her work quicker than expected.”
“If you say so, Your Highness,” Ashe says, exchanging a knowing look with Sylvain.
❀
The following week, when Dimitri trudges through the courtyard in search of Manuela for some religious guidance, Annette appears out of nowhere, tugging at his arm as Mercedes takes the hardbound book relating to the Church of Seiros from his hand, and pulls him away to a clearing among the bushes.
“A pincer attack,” Annette declares before Dimitri can demand an explanation for this situation, then skips out of the clearing before Dimitri can demand an explanation for that dialogue.
“You simply need to observe until it’s your turn, Dimitri,” Mercedes says, smiling at something outside the bush as the number of questions Dimitri wants to ask increases exponentially. Dimitri unsurely follows Mercedes’ gaze until he realizes that it is Byleth who is walking through the courtyard, and the person rushing up to her is Annette.
“Professor!” Annette chirps, smiling at Byleth when she looks up from the tattered overcoat (which further escalates the kinds of questions Dimitri has) she’s carrying. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Byleth agrees with a nod. She asks Annette if the overcoat belongs to her, then tucks it under an arm when Annette says it isn’t and waits for her to continue.
Dimitri cannot make sense of this whole scenario until Annette points to the bush Dimitri and Mercedes are currently in. Or, more precisely, a bench beside the bush Dimitri and Mercedes are currently in. A bench that has on it two pretty floral cups with steam rising from them, and a roll of cake set neatly beside a ceramic teapot. Oh, so this was what these two were planning. Dimitri is rather impressed.
“Would you like to join me for some tea? Mercie promised she would be here at noon, but she’s nowhere to be found and I don’t want to have this by myself…” Annette trails off, but she notices Byleth’s hesitation the moment Dimitri does, and whines, “Please, Professor? The tea’s getting cold and you know how hard it is to come across good lavender blends at Garreg Mach.”
“Well, yes,” Byleth says, holding down a sleeve of her jacket when it flaps around in the wind and hits an innocent student’s chest. Annette’s sparkling gaze must also affect Byleth more than she lets on, because Dimitri can see the way her fingers tighten around her arm. “But I’m really sorry, I have to go… to the stables.”
“The stables? Why?”
“To… meet Professor Manuela?”
She doesn’t sound too sure of herself, and the moment Dimitri brings a hand up to stifle his laughter, Mercedes takes it as her hint to return his book to him as she steps out to complete the second stage of this pincer attack of theirs.
“Hello, Professor,” Mercedes says, coming up behind Byleth with gentle footsteps. “Are you accompanying Annie and me for tea?”
Dimitri hadn’t noticed the little container of chamomile in Mercedes’ hands, but now that he has, he blinks at it, then at Byleth. Wasn’t this her favourite kind? She always prepared chamomile tea for Dimitri whenever they would meet together, after all. Did this mean she would accept Mercedes’ invitation?
“Professor?” Annette repeats, peering up at Byleth with big, pleading eyes that— inexplicably, do not work on Byleth as she shakes her head at both Mercedes and Annette.
“I should really get going.” Byleth begins walking away before Mercedes can use her powerful skills of persuasion to make her stay, and that’s when Dimitri figures out what Mercedes meant when she said until it’s your turn.
So he fixes his hair and flicks a caterpillar off his shoe as he stands up, leaves the bushes, and steps to the Annette-Byleth-Mercedes collective with a bold smile. The six hundred page book on theology weighs nothing in his hand when he feels so chipper; the multitude of questions in his mind mean nothing when Byleth looks at him like he’s her sole respite in this terrible world.
“It was… another coincidence,” Dimitri says tentatively, standing tall despite the girls’ insistent giggling. If any professor were to walk past this classroom right now, the sincerity of students in the Blue Lion house would undoubtedly be questioned, because self-study sessions were for exactly that: self-study. Not gossip. Especially if it is about how Byleth had complied to have tea with the three of them when Dimitri had asked her. “She only agreed because it would have been easier to find Professor Manuela if we both searched for her.”
“I believe you,” Annette assures him unbelievingly as Mercedes continues smiling into her palm.
❀
Days later, when Sylvain struts past Dimitri with a fancy bow and an even fancier rendition of Your Highness, Dimitri isn’t surprised. Instead, he wonders what took Sylvain this long to make a move, and also what he had to sacrifice to get Felix to accompany him as he carries out whatever it is that he is going to carry out.
“What are you guys doing?” Claude asks, joining Dimitri as he peeks at Sylvain and Felix going up to Byleth and Alois — who seem to be discussing the details of their upcoming mission to banish the bandits in the neighbouring town — from behind the Golden Deer classroom’s door.
“An… experiment,” Dimitri replies, making space for Claude to get a good look at the spectacle that is about to unfold in the hallway outside their classrooms.
Dimitri always thought it was Sylvain who was the most mystifying one among them, what with his tendency to frolic with girls even when there are concerns larger than life that he must address. But over the last four years since the incident, Dimitri has learned that it is Felix, among all of them, who is truly unlearnable.
As if on cue, Felix turns around to give Dimitri the most loathsome scowl humanly possible, and Dimitri decides to respond to it with a smile that doesn’t show what he really feels. Even Claude shudders beside him, but chooses to say nothing.
“Professor, Alois,” Sylvain says, bowing like he invented the action, then links his fingers behind his neck as Felix glares at the back of his head. “Felix and I came up with a great joke, and we—” Sylvain pauses when Felix elbows his side, then pretends like nothing happened as he continues, “I decided that if it makes you laugh, you have to brew us the Eastern merchant’s exquisite new tea.”
“A cup of tea for a great joke, eh?” Alois says, taking the bait like a fish seeing a wriggling earthworm for the first time. “Come on then, let’s hear it!”
So this is Sylvain’s strategy. Pulling another variable into the equation because Byleth, by herself, is a constant who cannot be swayed. Dimitri always knew Sylvain was smarter than he let on, but to witness it in earnest is a fresh experience, as is the face Sylvain makes when he breathes in and crosses his arms over his chest. “Tell me: why shouldn’t you date a pastry chef?”
Dimitri can only see the back of Byleth’s head and Alois’ side from his spot, but he concludes that the expression on their faces must not be very pleasant, seeing how Marianne, standing beyond them, takes one look at them before she gasps and skitters away in an instant.
“Because…” Sylvain crows, puffing his chest out as metaphorical sparkles dance around his visage. “He’ll dessert you.”
For a moment, there is silence. Then, Felix smacks his forehead so hard that the sound drowns out the noise Claude makes as he slaps a hand over his mouth, and yet another moment later, Alois roars in laughter, grabbing Sylvain’s shoulder and whacking it as he reels himself in.
“You, dear Sylvain, have earned yourself a cup of tea,” Alois says, still holding onto Sylvain’s shoulder. “However, as the Professor and Felix haven’t even cracked a smile at your brilliant joke, it will have to be just you and me.”
“But—”
“Come, come. It takes a genius to know another one, you know?”
Alois drags Sylvain away despite his protests, and Felix heaves a sigh when he glances up at Byleth. Byleth too, for that matter, relaxes her shoulders as she considers Felix and the way he has his hand over the hilt of his training sword.
“Are those tea leaves that good?” Byleth asks, cupping her chin with a hand. “Are you going to tell me a joke for it too?”
“Sure,” Felix says, startling Dimitri. “But only if you agree to train with me when—”
“So…” Claude says, glancing at Dimitri and the way he has the Golden Deer classroom’s door in a vice-like grip. “What ‘experiment’ are you weird lions conducting?”
Loosening his hold on the door and only sparing some thought as to why he had panicked the moment Felix had said sure, Dimitri says, “Oh, right. My classmates have a theory that the Professor invites no one but me to tea, and to prove it, they— Ah. Good day, Professor. I believe you were talking to Felix a moment ago?”
“Yes, but… he gave this to me and stormed away after telling me a— well, something. He was quite red in the face as well.” Byleth frowns at the tin of ginger tea in her hands, and Dimitri wills his heart to calm down even if it seems to want to leap out of his chest and press itself to the little pout that graces her lips. “And Alois abducted Sylvain a while ago, so I’m… rather jobless, right now.”
“I see.” Dimitri is having a hard time looking at her without fearing that his heartbeat isn’t as silent as it should be, which is why he didn’t realize until now that Claude had slipped away even before Byleth had approached the Golden Deer classroom. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I am also not assigned any tasks at the moment.”
Byleth considers this as she stares at him, and if she sees the blush dusting his cheeks, she doesn’t comment on it. What she does say, however, is: “Do you want to try this out with me, then?” while holding the tin up to him.
Dimitri gawks at it, then at Byleth. If it’s Byleth inviting him out to tea, how can he refuse?
“A coincidence,” Sylvain says, mimicking Dimitri and his mannerisms even before Dimitri can refute any accusation. Sylvain flicks his hand to a side in the way Dimitri often does, and Dimitri would have reprimanded Sylvain if it didn’t mean he was indirectly reprimanding himself. “Oh, it’s such a coincidence that the Professor only ever drinks tea with me in the whole monastery.”
Felix snorts, looking away before Dimitri can catch the look on his face, but Sylvain makes up for it by magnifying his smirk tenfold instead.
❀
Ingrid is the only one who has the courtesy to inform Dimitri about her plan of action before she acts on it.
As she explains her ingenious scheme, there is a small part of him that wants to tell her that they’ve all proved their point over the last three weeks. But Ingrid seemed a little upset over the contents of her father’s latest letter, so Dimitri keeps mum and lets her distract herself by doing this. (Plus, seeing Byleth hold him in special regard once more won’t hurt his ego.)
However, what Dimitri worries about the most, now that they have returned from their mission to halt the bandits’ movements, is Byleth herself. He hasn’t seen her outside of their regular classes, and if Ashe’s information about seeing Byleth in the library long past midnight was true, Dimitri hopes she’s taking care of herself. Ever since he noticed the shadows under her eyes during a seminar on sword-fighting, Dimitri has not stopped fretting. It’s for the sake of their upcoming certification exams, after all, that she has been focusing on studying unusual subjects, all so she can impart the most useful information to them.
“—so the Professor will have to sample my tea for the tea brewing competition I made up,” Ingrid concludes, placing the parchment containing the details of her strategy on the stairs descending to the training grounds. “I’m going to win this, Your Highness.”
Ingrid clenches her fist with determination, and Dimitri doesn’t ask her when and why they decided to turn this from an experiment into a contest as he nods and tells her to do her best.
The cloudy sky overhead is as it was the first time Byleth had asked him if he would like to have some tea with her all those months ago. It was a day that could have brought with it thunder and rain, but it had stayed sunny and warm even after she refilled their cups the third time. Byleth’s smile was gentle, her words careful, and Dimitri hadn’t told her that he could not taste anything she offered to him, lying about how delicious everything was instead.
Dimitri hears footsteps approaching them, so he shifts his gaze from the sky to the person before them, blinks once, twice, thrice, until he stops seeing stars. It doesn’t work, because Byleth is no less radiant than the wide expanse above, but Dimitri reels that thought back before he can say it out loud.
“Professor!” Ingrid says, getting to her feet the same time Dimitri does. “You… look so tired. Have you slept at all?”
“I did sleep,” Byleth mumbles, rubbing at the corner of her eye. “...two nights ago.”
Ingrid freezes beside Dimitri, and Dimitri feels his smile falter as Byleth stifles a yawn. Why was she putting her own health in jeopardy for the sake of their exams? Neither Manuela nor Hanneman put in a fraction of the effort Byleth did when it came to their students.
Byleth sways as a gust of wind blows past them, and Dimitri’s jaw tightens.
“Professor, you should be resting,” Dimitri says. “I can walk you back to your room, if you please.”
“It’s all right.” Byleth waves her hand, signalling her rejection. “I have to find Felix and tell him about the updated syllabus—”
“And end up collapsing due to overexertion?” Dimitri’s voice is louder and angrier than he intended it to be, and the effect is instantaneous: Byleth flinches, just as Ingrid and the Tournament Officer turn to Dimitri. He knows he should stop and apologize; this is their professor he’s talking to, but the anger that wells within him doesn’t dissipate even when he feels the faint beginnings of a headache. “If you really don’t value yourself, then go ahead and take on all the work you can find.”
It isn’t specifically Byleth that frustrates him so. Everyone in his life was like this— working harder than anyone else, toiling, sacrificing, giving up so much— and for what? What good did they accomplish if they couldn’t stay with him and see him come this far?
“I...” Byleth begins, bug-eyed and slack-mouthed.
“Let’s have some tea, Professor,” Ingrid says, then. She doesn’t look at Dimitri now, but he knows she can tell why he said what he did. “It’ll revitalize you, and we can search for Felix after that.”
As he averts his gaze from her and takes in a deep breath, the whole situation revolving his classmates and their strange idea about tea is the furthest from his mind. However, the moment Byleth mumbles a soft yes, Dimitri’s eyes snap open, his heart twists as a wave of regret washes over him. When he turns to them, the two are already walking away.
“Your Highness,” Dedue says from outside his room. The worry is evident in his tone, and Dimitri scorns himself even more for it. Why does he always hurt the ones he loves? “Are you feeling unwell? Would you like me to prepare some tea?”
“No,” Dimitri replies, running his hands through his hair, tugging at it when his headache intensifies. “I’ll just head to bed.”
❀
All his classmates should know by now how terribly Dimitri had conducted himself yesterday. It’s a wonder Dedue even greets him as Dimitri brushes his cape aside and takes his seat beside him, and an even bigger one when Ingrid squeezes his shoulder on her way to her desk.
They don’t have any classes with Byleth until the afternoon, and Dimitri doesn’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse. He wants to ask forgiveness for the things he said yesterday, but he isn’t capable of facing Byleth either. Not after he had seen that he wasn’t as significant to her as he had previously assumed.
He takes down everything Shamir says without paying attention to the actual words he’s scrawling onto his bifolium. When he recalls the downward turn to Byleth’s lips and the wistful look in her eyes when Dimitri had continued bringing disgrace to himself, the force he exerts makes the nib of his quill bend, and he puts it away and asks Dedue if he can borrow another.
“Is it the Professor?” Dedue asks, handing Dimitri his own ink-tipped quill and taking a different one from his satchel.
Dimitri doesn’t respond, nor does he meet Dedue’s eyes as he scribbles on a corner of his paper to get a feel for the quill, and that is all Dedue needs to grasp what Dimitri is battling within him.
“Please meet me at the greenhouse in a while,” Dedue tells him after Shamir leaves the classroom. “I have something I must show you.”
“I will see you there,” Dimitri says, setting his books aside.
He was the one at fault here, so when his classmates peek at him in worry as he leaves the classroom, he wants to turn around and ask Ingrid if she forgot what truly transpired between him and Byleth yesterday. But as he steps out and glances at the sky, still cloudy and bright simultaneously, with an equal chance of rain and sunshine, Dimitri closes his eyes and steels himself. He must set things right by the end of the day.
The greenhouse keeper is talking to the fishkeeper by the dock, which is the first oddity Dimitri notices when he reaches the greenhouse, followed by the doors of the greenhouse, which are… shut. He has never seen the doors of this structure closed, so he steps towards it with caution.
“Excuse me?” he says, pushing the door open as he enters. “Dedue—”
Dedue.
“Will you join me for a cup of tea?” Byleth — who is not Dedue — asks, smiling as she gestures to the seat across the table placed in the middle of the greenhouse.
Dimitri is going to have words with Dedue. So, so many words.
“Of course,” Dimitri says, rubbing the back of his neck as he closes the door behind him and makes his way towards her.
The silence between them is deafening, and it’s rather difficult for Dimitri to look at Byleth when he feels so ashamed of his behaviour from the day before this. He chooses to fix his gaze on a swallowtail butterfly as it flits around his floral-patterned cup, gathering his courage yet struggling to find the right words to say.
“I—” he begins, the same time Byleth does.
“Go ahead, Professor,” Dimitri says, indicating for her to continue.
“No, it’s—” Byleth presses her lips into a thin line, bites the inside of her cheek, and smiles. “Please, have some.”
Dimitri looks at the cup before him, the sunlight reflected on the surface of the tea, and he thanks Byleth as he curls his finger around its handle. He brings it up to his mouth, and he smells a hint of fruitiness, a touch of herbs, and he feels a smile tugging at his own lips.
“Chamomile,” he says, fondly peering at Byleth. “Isn’t this your favourite?”
“My favourite?” Byleth frowns. “Isn’t this your favourite?”
This is hardly the right moment for Dimitri to tell her that he hasn’t had a favourite anything for four years, so he blinks, shakes his head. “All right, let’s say it’s my favourite because I thought it was your favourite.”
Byleth laughs at this, and as he takes a sip from his cup, Dimitri thinks his previous statement must be revised. He hasn’t had a favourite anything for four years, but Byleth’s gentle laughter might be his most favourite thing ever.
“I apologize for yesterday. I was terribly out of line,” Dimitri says, placing the cup back in its place and linking his fingers together. “I just… worry that I might lose those who remain in my life, even if it’s a matter as casual as this. I will do my best to—”
“No,” Byleth mutters. Dimitri immediately stiffens, and his hands feel cold. Was Byleth rejecting him yet again? His panic must have shown on his face too, because Byleth keeps her cup back down, holds her hands out to gesture stop. “I mean. I should be the one saying sorry here.”
“What? Professor…”
“I was a mercenary before this, and being told that I’m going to be a professor out of nowhere was…”
Dimitri can see where this is going, and as Byleth fidgets with her fingers, he waits for her to continue, holding back the little twinge of jealousy he feels when the swallowtail butterfly from before lands on her nose and makes her giggle.
“It makes me feel like I need to work my hardest, and I didn’t consider its repercussions,” she says, looking up at him with her honest gaze. “I know you were only concerned about me, Dimitri.”
Above, the cotton clouds shift in the sky, and a ray of sunshine brightens Byleth’s face. Dimitri thinks he’s going to see stars again if he doesn’t stop staring at her, but he also thinks it doesn’t matter because he’s already looking at the most brilliant star around.
“I’ll forgive you if you forgive me,” Dimitri says, and feeling an odd surge of fortitude, leans forward as he smiles. “And if you invite me to tea more often. I was quite hurt when you chose Ingrid yesterday, Professor. I thought I was your special tea partner.”
At this, Byleth flushes all the way to her ears, and Dimitri’s heart hammers in his chest. If Dimitri was still holding the teacup, he fears it might have been shattered into numerous pieces by now.
“I… Well,” Byleth stutters. “It was a disaster. I can never do this right unless it’s with you.”
When she buries her face in her hands, Dimitri runs his fingers through his hair, looking away so she doesn’t realize how flustered he is. It was one thing to hear it from his classmates, another to observe it, and wholly different to hear it from the person herself. Dimitri is going to have a hard time controlling himself from skipping back to his quarters after this.
“I started speaking to her about strange fish in the pond. Strange fish in the pond,” Byleth whispers when she looks up from her hands. “If she skips the next lecture, I wouldn’t blame her.”
“She’s too diligent a student to do that,” Dimitri says, taking another sip of tea as Byleth considers this, all while his heart does a complicated combat art on its own volition. “However, I’m surprised. You’ve never brought up strange fish when we have tea.”
“It’s because you are my special tea partner.” Byleth watches him with an expression Dimitri cannot read before she smiles at him again. “I always know what to say to you. Oh, I even have a joke for you.”
As he places his teacup on the saucer and leans forward again, the swallowtail butterfly perches on his wrist. He glances at it, then at Byleth, who is exceedingly more beautiful than this little creature, and returns her smile with one of his own.
“A joke? Do tell, Professor.”
“Why shouldn’t you date a pastry chef?” Byleth says, grinning, and Dimitri laughs even before she finishes the joke.