Chapter Text
The light blinded him as if Sothis herself began descending from the heavens to signify their victory. As he regained his senses, Dimitri was taken aback by the full magnitude of their siege at Enbarr. Fire and blood strewn across torn banners and ruined buildings, bodies piled over the corpses of fallen horses and wyverns. The horror of seeing it all sent his thoughts spiralling back to Duscur. The deafening screams of the dead beginning to ring in his ears, calling out to him, to the goddess, to the gods long forgotten. He shut his eye hard to control himself, tightening his grip over Areadhbar so hard he’s lucky the Hero’s relic can withstand his strength.
His body starts to sway but surprisingly doesn’t fall.
Among the deafening noises, he heard a lone voice.
Calm, serene, laced with worry and panic, standing out of the sea of lamentations. “DIMITRI! DIMITRI!”, the voice rang. “Dimitri, are you alright?" she said.
Again and again, he could hear her calling him, pulling him back until the voices screaming turned out to be triumphant battle cries and cheers. “How badly are you injured?”, the voice said. It somehow sounded closer than before. An odd sense of warmth then suddenly enveloped his armor, causing him to open his eye to the source. It was the Professor, awkwardly holding him by the waist, acting as his crutch and holding his face so close to hers he could see how terrible his reflection looked through her mint eyes. Instinctively, he tried to hold out his arm to place on her shoulder, only to realize he could not move it. As he looked down to his arm, he met her eyes. Her eyes were suddenly all he could see in that moment, peering into the depths of his soul, as if she could see them tormenting him from the inside. Her alabaster skin was smeared by ash and dried blood, but he swears he could see a faint blush starting to form when he started to hear the familiar heavy clunk of footsteps rushing towards him. He was already gripping Areadhbar better until he saw the man coming up to him from the bottom of the staircase.
It was Dedue. He relaxed his grip, taking a breath of relief only to feel a sharp pang. He must have broke a rib or two without noticing earlier.
“Your Highness!!" he frantically exclaimed, witnessing him begin to slump towards the Professor.
"My dear friend, I am glad you are safe." Dimitri said in an exasperated voice, managing a faint smile towards him. It had been a long and difficult battle. He suddenly felt the weight of not only defeating Edelgard but enduring the last few months of endless skirmishes, sleepless nights tormented and demented by the dead. The soon-to-be King does not usually feel exhaustion, but his body now yearns for reprieve. He could feel it in his aching muscles, the laboured effort it took to even breathe normally. His bones were begging to be rested until he looked beyond Dedue's head and towards the vast expanse of Enbarr.
There he witnessed Kingdom soldiers dropping their swords and shields to cheer him on, to help their wounded comrades, and surprisingly, Imperial soldiers. In one fell swoop, the hordes of black and red stopped in motion at the sight of him and the Professor.
The last of the demonic beasts slain motionless across the bloody streets of the Capital. Remaining troops of the Empire stared dumbfounded at the Crown Prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, as if his mere emergence from the palace gates meant their Emperor was as good as dead. The war was over. The Kingdom has won. Blue and silver-strewn banners pierce the sky above them. Sparks of illuminating magic shine around them as mages hurriedly heal the severely wounded.
Beyond the pomp and circumstance, Dimitri felt a weight in his chest. Where were his other friends? He scanned the crowd, avoiding the piles of bodies in fear of finding a familiar face.
It was difficult to see around the jubilation and celebration at first. Several group of soldiers were rushing towards their would-be King. Too soon, he could see nothing but a blur of tarnished azul over gleaming silver splattered by the familiar vermilion of blood. They were all cheering for HIM. He was overwhelmed with their happiness. Too many years have gone by in solitude, nay, in the company of the dead in his head. Dimitri was not accustomed to the love of his people yet, to the love of anybody really. He was so sure of a lonesome, desolate end. Was this a dream? Alas, he was determined to remember living in the present. With the living. For the living. Witnessing the joy and relief in the faces of soldiers who believed in his campaign filled his heart in this moment. People who believed in him— where were the Blue Lions?
Dimitri straightened his back despite the protest of his injuries to see above his men. As if on cue, he saw a flash of ginger on the west, right beyond the rubble of what seemed to be an apothecary’s shop. He began to relax as he saw Annette waving from a good distance assisting Mercedes as she tends to a wounded Ashe, their innocent faces gleaming at their prince, knowing they finally did it.
To the east, he saw Sylvain lifting Dorothea aboard his steed with a large grin on his face. They seemed too preoccupied with each other for his comfort. Those two are trouble.
Chuckling to himself, he saw Felix not far from them wiping the blood off his sabre, blood staining his whole armour, seemingly not his own, and looking towards the sunset. Dimitri could swear he saw him smiling to himself. ‘My dearest friend, I have much to repay you for.’ he thought to himself.
Just as he was about to look for Ingrid, a strong gust of wind blew into the crowd, parting the silver sea of men. There she was, rising from the glint of the sunset, riding her glorious Pegasus in all its frightening beauty bathed in soot and blood. Ingrid threw her broken lance to the side and ran to Dimitri and the Professor, hugging both of them. "Goodness, you two are safe!" she sighed.
Byleth was shocked with how tight Ingrid could hold both of them with her long muscular arms. She had been watching Dimitri this whole time. The crowd, the heat from the embers, the blinding light from the sunset beyond were all silenced around her as she watched him. After her long slumber, she wouldn't let others notice but Byleth allowed herself to appreciate him more. Gone were the days when she had to keep her distance from him as a student and she his professor. They had both grown into each other despite being away from each other for so long. She was worried for him, of how he'll grieve after what happened. They had done their best to save Edelgard. Byleth was thankful her dagger did not give Dimitri a fatal injury, at least physically.
It was the first time she tried to hold his hand this way. The first time she's ever tried to hold someone's hand this way. It felt natural, like a magnetic force willed their hands together. Through years of training as a mercenary, she was thankful she had the strength to shoulder his weight. As usual, Dimitri would be pretending to downgrade his injuries very well. Apart from his stab wound, she could already tell his torso just wasn't quite the right shape as it should be. Besides, he wasn't breathing normally, and he strains upon talking. A few broken ribs, who knows where the blood dripping down his cloak is coming from? She will have to take matters into her own hands later.
Besides, they had much to talk about. Or did they? Sighing to herself, she thought, 'This would have to wait for a while'.
As if sensing her reservation, Dimitri suddenly looked at her from Ingrid's shoulder. He only had one good eye, and yet, it took everything in her not to drown in it. There was a softness to his eye, like so many times when they would be alone under the bright moonlight. Brief moments of clarity when he would open up to her about his sorrows, when they would share an inside joke or two while drinking chamomile tea. She opened her mouth as if to say something she had been yearning to, but stopped herself short.
While they were being crushed by Ingrid, a large force also began crushing them from behind. Looking over her shoulder, she realized it was Sylvain & Dorothea catching up to them.
“I knew we could make it! *Phew*” Sylvain mused. “I can’t believe it’s finally over!” Dorothea almost sang.
Byleth could see Felix trailing behind, lifting Ashe to his feet as Mercedes adjusts the bandages she just placed on him. Annette had her back to them, scanning the rubble until he appeared beside her out of nowhere. Gilbert, the impregnable fortress of a man that he was, appeared unscathed. He looked over to Annette with a faint smile, nodding in her direction, before striding towards Dimitri, note in hand.
“My liege, it would give me no other pleasure than to celebrate our victory. However, an urgent message addressed to you arrived at our camp just outside of Enbarr. We have no indication where it came from.” Gilbert reported.
“A message?” Byleth asked. She met Dimitri’s eyes once again, only this time his gaze hardened.
He cleared his throat and regained his posture as best he could, beginning to address the army. “Everyone, my comrades in arms, friends, I thank all of you for your valiant efforts on this momentous day. This victory is ours! From now on, we will live in a new age of peace in a unified Fodlan. But for now, we shall celebrate with a feast!", he proclaimed. This was met with a thunderous roar from the soldiers as they proceeded to retreat back to camp.
Slowly, the noise began to simmer down, changing the atmosphere to a more solemn note. Most of the Blue Lions left with the army to lead them, except for Felix. He lingered by the back of the army and went back to confront Dimitri who was slowly making his way through some rubble along the palace gardens. The Professor was acting as his crutch. ‘Stupid Boar, always attacking without thinking. It’s a miracle he survived this long.’ he thought to himself.
As he made his way past a burnt and broken carriage, he stopped in his tracks at what he saw.
Dimitri was kneeling on the ground, his right hand clutching the damp, blood-stained soil while his left lay limp on his side. He was shaking. Even from a distance, he could see the Boar shaking. A deep tug in his chest pulled at him. He’s never seen him like this since they were children. Dimitri was leaning on the Professor’s shoulder as she knelt before him as well. He seemed to be...crying? “You fool, what are you crying for?”, he muttered under his breath. He decided to crouch by the carriage to observe them from a distance.
“I couldn’t save her.", he cried out through a stream of tears. Byleth kept stroking his hair, hoping to soothe him down. He collapsed into her then, causing her to sit down as she cradled his grieving form. Dimitri had grown so much while she was away, her arms couldn’t reach around his broad shoulders. With a trembling hand, Byleth brushed his hair away from his face to reveal him crying violently, mumbling incoherently against her armor. Slow and steady, she kept brushing his hair like a mother would a wounded child, hoping to soothe him down.
Dimitri was engrossed in his sorrow until he could feel such comforting warmth around him. He decided to look up through his tear-filled eye. All he could see was black with flecks of red sprayed over the padded armor. He could feel someone gently brushing away small knots along his hair, gently massaging through his scalp. Nobody's ever done that for him before. He savored the sensation until he looked further up and remembered it was the Professor with him. His eye shot higher up to see her face, his own suddenly feeling hot. They had been walking silently towards camp when he suddenly had an overwhelming sadness come over him. As if the shock of what just transpired in the throne room took the breath out of him. The Professor seemed to be watching him carefully this whole time, wary of how he'll behave lest she stray her eyes away. And here she was now, looking down on him like an angel, eyebrows furrowed with worry, almost tearful as well if he was seeing things right. She kept telling him it was going to be alright now. As her hand motioned to brush his hair again, he grabbed her wrist and held it to his face. He could not help but close his eyes as her soft, fragile hand held his bruised face. Dimitri wished he could melt into her hand, where he felt safe.
Byleth froze. Her ears were unnervingly hot she couldn't hear anything else apart from the pounding. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing was coming out.
Dimitri remembered the night Rodrigue died. He had felt as broken as this before, and she was always there to pull him away from the voices that haunted him. She was his light. By the goddess, it was always her he needed since she came into his life. And she was so close to him now, they were surely alone. He wondered if she could hear his heart hammering so fast he was beginning to feel dizzy. As he opened his eyes to meet her flustered face, he couldn't help but think to himself how adorable she looked right now. Her soft, pink lips were parted, as if inviting his. He thought to himself, 'I wonder how it would feel to--' and before he realized it, he was moving his face closer to hers that he could see nothing else but the shocking emerald sea of her eyes. Their lips a mere inch apart.
Byleth couldn't move, everything was happening so quickly it didn't give her time to think. A second ago, this crying form of a man was rumpled against her and next all she could see was his half opened eye gazing into hers, so close he could feel his warm breath all over her face. She closed her eyes to meet his lips when suddenly a loud crash not far from where they were startled them, waking them from their trance.
Felix fell backward from where he was and accidentally dragged a broken piece of wood with him, sending what remained of the carriage collapsing all over him. 'Dammit! I shouldn't be here' he whispered to himself. He stayed still until he heard the two laughing to themselves. It seems they didn't see him beneath all the mess he made. He wanted to talk to Dimitri after...after everything that had happened. He wasn't ready to be witness to such a sappy scene. And yet, he couldn't tear his eyes away from them earlier. His old friend, whom he has seen work himself to the bone, barely enjoying the days of his youth, losing him for 5 long years only to welcome back the shell of who he once called brother. It was comforting to see him have someone, even if it was the Professor.
Byleth hadn't heard Dimitri laugh as much as he did now since 5 years ago. Both of them were flushed red and sweating when the nearby collapsed carriage brought them to their senses. She had relished the sound of it, his booming baritone piercing straight through her heart. 'What am I doing?' she thought to herself.
"I-I apologize for getting caught up in my emotions. It seems I am not myself right now." Dimitri said. She was still blushing, he observed. "I-I'm sorry I have put you in a position you might not be comfortable with. Please forgive me, Professor."
He straightened himself up and helped the Professor up as well. As he lifted her up, the pain from his wounds came rushing back, as if a reminder that he was in reality right now. He did his best to keep a straight face so as not to make her worry.
But Byleth was busy hearing through the pounding between her ears as she felt his strong, muscular,albeit wounded, arms carry her tiny body. "N-no, I wasn't uncomfortable. Just surprised." she said.
"You must be disappointed in me. How can one such as me be truly King when I fall so easily over you such as I did now." he jested. Byleth, unsure whether she should read between the lines at what he just said simply smiled at him and told him, "You have never disappointed me, Dimitri." And just like that, he felt a warm wave swell within his chest. She always knew what to say to him. "I-I thank you, Professor. I still do not think I am deserving of such kindness, and yet your words have always guided me in the right path. Come, now. We must read the mysterious message together, and then celebrate our hard-earned victory."
Byleth simply nodded at him, preventing herself from uttering more foolish things. They made their way towards the camp then, taking their time through Enbarr as the sunset shined low over the buildings. Dimitri peeked to his side, stopping himself from gazing too hard at how beautiful her mint hair shown in the sunlight. What was he thinking making a move at her like that?! It was not the time, not when he appeared so weak before her. He wasn't even sure he deserved the privilege to do so.
Dimitri heaved a long sigh and winced, forgetting his torso injuries. Byleth came to his aid immediately.
"Dimitri, we must bring you to the infirmary before anything else. Let me help you." she commanded. He had focused too much on her soft pout to even hear what she said. The five years have been a terrible blur to him. Piles of bodies, targets to be taken, lives to be avenged. Including hers. To her, she was only gone a short while, and yet she had been different to him since she reappeared. Gentler. With more emotions he hopes nobody else has born witness to. Such selfishness is a crime. He yielded and let her help him walk the rest of the way back to camp then.
Stealthy as he was, a trailing Felix quietly followed them to the sound of what would seem to be an endless night of celebration.