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Chapter Text

As exhausted and mentally strained as he is, Dimitri's sense of time is completely warped. Days and nights all blur together into one long nightmare, punctuated only by brief periods of rest that are brought to an end abruptly by actual nightmares. He still has enough of his sanity that he doesn't outright attack his allies, but that's about as far as it goes. It's a miracle that Gilbert and the professor can convince him to bathe and eat meals properly—asking anything else of him that isn't related to killing Edelgard simply doesn't work.

"Boar. Spar with me."

Sparring? A waste of energy, energy that he should be using to put his ghosts to rest. Dimitri turns at the voice, clearly disoriented. There's recognition in his eye when he sees him—Dimitri practically withers under that disapproving gaze, looking for all the world like a scared little boy.

"Glenn... don't look at me like that. I will have her head, I swear it."

"...Look at me," he says, yanking him by his cloak, "Does this look like—" 

...A ghost shouldn't be able to touch him. This is an enemy. Instinct kicks in before he even registers all of the words that have been said to him. All Dimitri picks up on is the hostile tone. He hasn't survived this long by going easy on someone that would snarl at him like that. Dimitri's hand shoots out, grabbing hold of the intruder's neck as he starts to squeeze with frightening force—but before he snaps it completely and does any irreversible damage, it sinks in just who it is he's strangling.

Dimitri's hand drops to his side as he finally focuses properly on Felix.

"Felix. What are you doing here?"

Felix nearly drops to his knees, but manages to keep standing as he coughs. Several gulps of air later, he glares at Dimitri.

"A walk, maybe?" Felix says, grimacing. "I don't make a habit of talking to the dead." 

Distantly, Dimitri is aware that he should apologize or at least feel ashamed of his actions. But he just doesn't have it in him to care enough to do it. So what if Felix hates him? Hatred burns hot, and it's far preferable than feeling despair or feeling nothing at all. It's better if he hates him, easier—Dimitri doesn't think he'll survive after he takes Edelgard's head, and even in this state, he doesn't want Felix to grieve for him. A monster deserves to be hated, not mourned.

So he simply turns back toward the pile of rubble without saying anything else, swaying slightly, unsteady on his feet.

"What?" Felix calls from behind him, "The living not good enough for you?"

Dimitri shakes his head. No, that's not it at all—the living are too good to associate with a beast like him.

"You said you were on a walk. I will not stop you."

"Forget that, I'm talking to you now," Felix says, his voice a little stronger. "So tell me, what the heck was yesterday about? Are we really marching out to Enbarr instead of the Kingdom once we get reinforcements from my old man?"

Dimitri turns toward Felix, folding his arms. It's a topic that gets Dimitri's attention—it's probably the only topic that can.

"Yes. Crushing that woman is the only thing that will put an end to this. Nothing else matters."

Cordelia will almost certainly buckle if the empire is taken care of. As for the rest of it, well... that'll be for the survivors to sort out, won't it?

"And your people?" The challenge is unmistakable in Felix's tone, himself mirroring Dimitri's pose in a defiant show. "Don't they matter at all?"

It's a question he doesn't want to address. They matter, of course, but…

"If you do not approve, you are free to leave."

Which is not at all an answer and he knows it.

"Of course I don't approve, but I sure as hell have no plans of leaving," Felix says, "You're the only one that can do something about this Goddess-forsaken mess, so listen up. Whether you like it or not, your people need you. So man up and think of them a little more, would you? I have zero plans of hauling a boar's corpse back home."

Need him. The last thing his people need is for him to take the throne so they can devote themselves to serving a monster. It's better this way—better for them to sort it out on their own, to find someone that deserves to lead. Dimitri scoffs, turning away again.

"They do not need me. What do you want, Felix?"

Felix has been avoiding spending time alone with him for so long, it seems strange for him to be here now.

"Listen," Felix practically snarls, "Do you honestly think people would hang around a monster like you if they didn't need you? If they didn't care? How many men and women have to die in your name for it to sink in?"

Dimitri is one step from ignoring Felix, but what he says at the end there strikes a chord. He inhales sharply, glaring at Felix with a wild look in his good eye.

"I never asked anyone to do that! It would be better if—" If they just left him, but he knows that's as good as saying it would be better if he were dead. He doesn't want Felix's pity, nor does he deserve it. Dimitri clenches his fists, looking at the ground again. "Everyone here is free to leave."

"Yet they're not. Everyone is here because there's something they believe in," Felix says, gesturing vaguely in Dimitri's direction. "Patriotism, glory, some trite ideal—it may not be all for you, but you're still the one that holds it all together. That makes these far-fetched dreams a possibility at all."

Dimitri's shoulders draw tight as Felix sighs and lets his hand fall to the side. Truly, Felix has always known him so well. Even now, when they've been apart for five years and were barely interacting the year before that, Felix knows him. He picks his words carefully, finding the right ones to pierce his armor.

"So no, you don't get a say in this."

No.

"You have a responsibility to these people, living and breathing people, not some ghosts that wouldn't give a rat's ass about your quest for vengeance."

No. No. No.

"No!" It comes out sounding weaker than Dimitri had intended due to his pitch rising so rapidly that it cracks. Dimitri forces himself to speak more quietly before continuing, "No. You have had the right of it for years. A monster such as myself is not fit to lead people. The only thing I can do is avenge the people we've lost. So just—leave me be."

"That's just what you think," Felix says, ever the persistent one. "But no, I won't be standing here if that's all you're good for. You know me better than that."

Gritting his teeth, Dimitri steps in close again, glowering down at Felix.

"What would you know? You have been avoiding me the best you can without leaving altogether. This is probably the first time we've been alone in seven years without crossing blades."

Every word that comes out feels far too bitter, but at this point, he doesn't care. He can barely see straight due to lack of sleep, and he feels far too fragile to endure a verbal assault from Felix.

"So what if I did?" Dimitri's words seem to strike a nerve, for Felix doesn't bother hiding his simmering anger as he glares back. "I'm talking to you now, you stubborn boar. What is it to you anyway?"

It's only natural that Dimitri's zeroing in on this one detail. Everything else Felix is saying is terrifying. Dimitri truly doesn't feel that he's worthy of the crown, and he's petrified at the thought of failing his people. Focusing on the abandonment he felt when Felix seemed to abruptly cut off their friendship is safe. It makes him angry, and that anger lights a fire inside him that dissipates the shadow of doubt. With a snarl, he leans in even closer.

"Do not say that you're standing here now as if you believe in me or some other trite nonsense. You have made your feelings perfectly clear: I am a beast."

Dimitri exhales slowly. A beast that can't be trusted.

"I'm not walking around on my hind legs anymore. Shouldn't you be satisfied?"

"You…"

Felix's hand curls into a fist, and it takes every ounce of his self-control not to swing it at the boar.

"I thought you had more brains than this, but I shouldn't have expected much from a beast," he practically spits out the word, distasteful on his tongue. "Do you honestly don't know…"

How deeply those events in the past had hurt him? How taxing those five years of desperately searching was? How much Felix wanted his childhood friend back? Felix exhales, willing the sharp pain in his chest to abate.

"...You've got one thing straight though. I'm not saying any of that trite nonsense, because I don't believe in any of it."

Pressing his other hand to his temple and shaking his head, he continues:

"How can I be satisfied with this? We sacrificed so much in order to bring back our hope in this war, not some... pitiful thing wrapped up in its own misery. Or have you been talking to the dead for so long that you forgot about how painful it is to live and fight?"

The boar shakes its head rapidly. This time, it's the one that reaches out to grab Felix's clothes, fisting its hand in his shirt and lifting him until they're nose to nose.

"Do I not know what, exactly? There is much that I do not know, but I can assure you that pain is not something I've forgotten."

"Could've done a better job of fooling me," Felix continues to glare defiantly, challenging the boar to object to what he has to say. He knows he's hit a nerve, and he's going to make the most out of it despite how the boar's grip makes it hard to breathe. "Don't you dare presume to know what I feel when you've been doing nothing but obsess with the nonexistent needs of the dead!"

The boar growls under its breath, driving Felix back against the nearest wall and pinning him there. Felix bites back a cringe as his back slams against the wall, certain it has bruised at a minimum. Still, he's very much aware it's not the worst that could have happened—if the boar had put all of his strength into it, he would have had a broken bone by now.

"It is not presumptuous when you're the one that told me!" the boar says, his eye wild, "I'm a beast craving blood and you feel sick looking at me, isn't that right? You said it yourself!"

"And so?" Felix wraps a hand around the wrist pinning him, trying to get the boar to release him. "Read between the lines, you idiot."

Felix's words seem to work, for the boar's fury burns out, just as quick as it is to ignite. Its fist slowly opens as it lowers Felix to the ground, looking exhausted.

"If that is your way of saying you care, you have a strange way of showing it."

Felix leans lightly against the wall, rubbing at the portion where the boar had held him.

"You should know. I'm... hardly immune to emotion."

The boar simply nods, its head drooping downward until it rests against Felix's shoulder. Felix freezes, wary of danger. But when all the boar does is rest, a wave of relief washes over Felix, ironically heavy over his chest. He feels ten years older than he is, unable to move a muscle, surprisingly unwilling to disturb the boar where it lay.

"I can't stand you looking like this." Felix says, barely above a whisper. "What happened…"

...Dimitri, he almost says, but stops himself. No, his childhood friend had perished a long time ago in Duscur. All that is left is a beast that knew nothing but the voices of the dead, wearing the skin of his most cherished friend.

Yet Felix continues to stay where he is, pushing away the beast being the last thing on his mind. Why is that?

"I don't know," the boar says, turning its face towards the crook of Felix's neck and taking a deep breath.

The boar resting like that against his neck sends an inexplicable rush of heat to Felix's cheeks, a fresh wave of what he recognizes to be embarrassment—or so he thinks. Another time, he would have pushed the boar away, shouted abuse at him for getting close...

...But that would be counterproductive, wouldn't it be? Now that he's finally gotten something out of the boar besides the supposed whispers of the dead, it just seems... wrong to disturb the strange peace that hung over them.

Tentatively, Felix lifts a hand, hovering over the boar's head before he decides to lay it over its head, awkwardly petting him. Just like what Dimitri used to do for him when he woke up from nightmares a long time ago…

Dimitri never really understood why Felix was so easily reassured this way when they were children. Dimitri's father was kind, but he was the rough-and-tumble sort, full of courage and conviction. Dimitri had always felt too ashamed to go to him and snuggle up for comfort. His stepmother wasn't really a viable option either—she never mistreated him and he loved her dearly, but she always seemed sad and distant. Burdening her with his sadness felt wrong.

Now, he thinks he understands. As simple of a gesture as it is, having his hair stroked like this is profoundly comforting. When was the last time someone touched him like this? He can't even remember. There's something soothing about Felix's familiar scent, and Dimitri can actually feel some of the tension in his body relaxing slightly. It's laughable—pigs are known for their sense of smell, and here he is, so powerfully affected that he's having a physical response. Weary to the bone, he decides he doesn't care if it earns him mockery. Dimitri raises his arms, wrapping them around Felix slowly enough to give him a chance to say no.

This... whatever this is, seems to be working—too well in fact. Felix tenses when the embrace of a kind comes, but does no more than that as he continues to stroke the boar's hair.

Why is he doing this? He should have run away a while ago, cut his losses and retreated to lick his wounds, but for some reason beyond him, he's decided to stick around the lion's den, taking care of a creature he's professed not to care about.

Yet, he knows better than anyone that isn't the case at all. It's caring for Dimitri that made everything hurt all the more, made him lash out the way he did, carried his resentment like a shield from the truth of things. Even with the monster that Dimitri had become, Felix never stopped giving a damn, never stopped hoping that somewhere in there is the friend he had lost a long time ago. Beneath all his outward hate lay confusion, same as the times when he sights the boar prince smiling like a normal human, a question ringing in his mind—

Where is the real Dimitri right now?

It's not a question he's left enough time to ponder, for the boar only indulges himself for another minute or two before stepping away.

"...It's late."

Felix starts at the voice, far too different from the boar that had followed them back since their reunion at Garreg Mach not even two months ago. It's scary how it sounds almost... normal, for lack of a better word. The rough edge to its voice that's been present since they found the boar again is gone for the moment, leaving the person before Felix sounding considerably younger. As if five years haven't gone by, and set them on an embittered track of no return.

"What of it?" Felix asks as he settles back into his usual frown. But there's no bite to his question as he studies the boar, wondering where it's going with this.

"We should try to get some rest," the boar says, "We can talk again tomorrow."

Again, the boar never fails to surprise. It takes Felix a good moment to get over it, to quit gaping at the boar as if it had grown another head.

"...Now you're talking sense."

Felix presses a hand to his forehead, one step from shaking his head. Well, for the most part, this should be a good thing. Somehow, he got through to the boar, and the creature is no longer shutting him out.

"Take the room next to mine, it's empty," Felix says, half-daring the boar to reject his proposal. He's not sure which part of the monastery it had decided to hole up in during the night, but wherever it is, it certainly isn't Dimitri's old room next to his.

The boar shakes its head, eye widening. "I cannot sleep there. It would be the first place an enemy might look!"

"And what am I, chopped beast meat?" Felix folds his arms, unamused. "I'm right next door—I won't allow any harm to come to you. The others are nearby as well—or do you not believe in our abilities?"

"I... suppose you are right," the boar says slowly, "I have grown accustomed to being on my own."

Felix could tell how the idea unironically troubles the boar. It would have been funny any other time and on another being, but it being the person in front of him is no laughing matter at all. The Dimitri he's known is truly long gone, replaced by this paranoid shell of a beast.

"...Well, you better quit getting used to it."

Felix turns on his heel, ready to lead the way.

"Let's get a move on."

Dimitri follows after Felix, subdued and a little anxious. This was not at all what he'd intended when he said they should sleep. He doesn't think he can just sleep in a room like that, so close to everyone else... what if he wakes them? Perhaps he should gag himself to be safe? At the very least, he's going to block the window, possibly the door as well. He remains quiet on the walk back to the dormitories, thinking up defensive measures the best that he can. Soon enough, they arrive, though he hasn't managed to think of anything that would make him feel secure enough to sleep in his room again.

But he'll try.

"...Good night."

Felix returns the greeting when they part ways by Dimitri's door, saying no more as he retreats to his own room. Dimitri slips into his old room, closing the door behind him. It's practically unchanged—did someone clean it? He's uneasy as he circles the perimeter like an animal might, trying to convince his mind that he's safe. Though leaving his armor on, he even lies down for a little while without dragging the furniture around. But in the end, he just can't sleep with the window exposed. Dimitri gets up after barely half an hour and starts to drag a heavy bookshelf across the floor, intent on covering that window up. 

...Scant moments later, he gives a good look at his door. Dimitri knows better than to block the door, but he can certainly reposition his bed so that it isn't immediately visible should someone come looking for him.

Not long after dawn, Dimitri awakens from his little nap. It's only a few hours, but it's enough to make him feel more clear-headed than he has in ages. He's careful to keep quiet as he slips out of the dorms, not wanting to potentially wake Felix. Felix usually isn't up that late, so he probably needs to sleep in a bit. His body feels stiff from even that short amount of sleep, so Dimitri heads to the training grounds to stretch out a bit and hopefully work up an appetite before breakfast. It's hard for him to work up the desire to eat if his stomach isn't literally growling.

Even if it's been far delayed by the boar's nesting sounds next door, Felix's sleep goes well for the rest of the night. As such, he gets up a little later than usual, and by the time he realizes that and scrambles to the next room over to check on his charge of sorts, the boar had already set off to Goddess knows where, leaving a mess in its wake. For a while, Felix simply gapes at the rearranged furniture, unsure what to make of the boar's paranoia...

That out of the way, he proceeds with his morning ritual, a part of it involving a good workout. He heads over to the training grounds, only to pause by the entrance as he finds himself with company this morning.

"...Spar with me," Felix says in lieu of a "good morning" as he watches the boar.

Dimitri's just finished his stretches when Felix approaches and demands a match, brusque as ever. He straightens up, studying his face briefly to try and gauge if he's angry. It doesn't seem like he's in an especially bad mood, at least, which is a surprise considering the fact that Dimitri accidentally called him by his brother's name last night.

And hugged Felix like a little baby... he's glad that the chill of the morning has already brought a pink flush to his cheeks, because that memory is embarrassing enough to make him blush.

"Are you certain?"

"I wouldn't ask if I wasn't."

Already, Felix is making a beeline for the freshly stocked training swords. In truth, he doesn't want to fight Felix. It's still difficult for him to keep his head in battle, and he's not certain that he won't lose his grip and start thinking Felix is a foe. But he knows he shouldn't let himself get out of shape while waiting around like this, so after mulling it over a little more, he nods. Dimitri walks over to the rack as well, testing a few of the training lances for one that will be able to withstand his strength long enough for a match.

Once Felix had grabbed a sword, he takes his place across Dimitri, giving it a few test swings. "Ready?"

Good. The weapons here are still sturdy, even if the monastery itself is still somewhat in disrepair. Dimitri swings his chosen weapon a few times, getting a feel for the heft of it.

"I'm ready," he says, sinking into a defensive stance. Felix might complain about him going easy on him, but he needs to get used to this one step at a time.

It truly has been a while, to say the least of it. Of course, Felix had seen some of the changes in the boar's fighting style on the battlefield, but being on the receiving end of it allowed a different perspective, and the realization that he's glad the boar is on their side. There's nothing knightly at all about the kicks that are interspersed with the thrusts thrown in Felix's direction, or the way the creature would stop Felix's sword with its bare hands when he is close to getting a strike in.

It takes everything for him to keep up, to adjust to this less typical, but admittedly practical style. But it's that effort that makes the exercise worth it, even if Felix feels like the boar had the edge most of the time. He wanted a challenge, and here it is.

"...Guess we can call it here," Felix says after barely dodging a vicious strike, panting heavily as he gets to his feet. It's about time anyway—an hour had likely passed since they started, and Ashe would have gotten food ready by then.

"Agreed," the boar says in between breaths. "It is... likely almost time for breakfast. Should we wash up first?"

Really, this turn of conversation is so normal now that it unsettles Felix. Without the voices hanging over its head, the boar looks more like a human—an idea Felix will be taking some time to get used to.

"Yeah, we should," Felix says, returning the sword back to its corresponding rack. "The girls would likely appreciate it."

"It is always best to not give Ingrid the opportunity for a scolding."

The response comes naturally, but even as Dimitri says it, he realizes that she hasn't scolded him since they reunited, not even once. Granted, she was always softer on him than on Felix or Sylvain due to his rank, but even so...

...Well, there is little reason to scold a monster. Telling him to take a bath will only wash away the visible bloodstains. Regardless, it is better to get cleaned up. He doesn't like the way people look at him these days, eyes full of mixed horror and pity. If he's going to eat in the dining hall, then he won't give anyone cause to look at him. Dimitri starts for the baths, not saying anything else.

The silence that falls over them isn't uncomfortable exactly, but it makes Dimitri uneasy nonetheless. What is he playing at, here? He shouldn't be lingering around an old friend like this, playing at being a proper human being. The only thing he's fit for is getting vengeance for the dead—he can't see their ghosts right now, but it's surely only a matter of time before they return.

He hates that he's too weak to just push Felix away completely.

Dimitri doesn't think anything of undressing in front of Felix until he's actually stepped into the bathhouse. Suggesting it just seemed so normal after working up a sweat like that. Now that he's here, he can't help but cringe internally at the thought of baring himself like this. Yet being squeamish about it would reveal far too much, so he simply walks to the men's side of the bath and begins removing his armor, one piece at a time.

Where Dimitri was somewhat lanky before, he's filled out now, even though he lacked steady access to food over those five years. His body's appearance finally lines up with that beastly strength of his, well-muscled but still lean enough to retain his full range of motion. That didn't stop him from collecting quite a few new scars, though, particularly on his right side. Dimitri's overcome losing his eye at this point, but that wasn't the case right from the start. He tries not to look too closely at Felix when they're in the bath, though his attention is briefly drawn by a sigh.

Felix has barely changed at all. Just like five years ago, Felix's form is compact and graceful, leaving him feeling bulky and unwieldy in comparison. Dimitri turns his back on Felix without comment, focusing on washing his face and hair.

The rest of their bath finishes without incident, as with their trip to the dining hall save for a few raised brows in their direction. Felix doesn't bother the boar again for the next few days, save for invites to spar. Besides being better company than the ground's training dummies, it also seems like a good idea to familiarize himself with the boar's powerful fighting style.

But the boar eventually turns hims down, back to being its broody self. Notably, it happened right after they got a reply from his blasted father, who promised to meet them at Ailell with reinforcements. Or in other news, that's one more reason to hate his old man—for handling the creature with kid gloves as he's wont to do.

Felix is not in a terrible mood when he confronts the boar later in the evening, but he is by no means pleased either, wearing a frown as he approaches it by its usual haunt in the cathedral.

"You," Felix says to its back. "We need to talk."

While no one could say that he'd been doing well, Dimitri has been doing a little better since Felix approached him that night at the cathedral. He can't bring himself to sleep in his room again after that first night—it just doesn't feel safe sleeping in the same spot—but with Felix keeping him more grounded with their training matches, he is averaging a couple of hours a night in whatever corner he ends up choosing.

But then the reply from Rodrigue comes, and it all just slips away. Rodrigue, always faithful, always kind—and always full of stories of Glenn and the former king. The ghosts that he's only caught brief glimpses of return in full force, and Dimitri's resolve to crush Edelgard so that they can rest is renewed.

So he doesn't go to train that day. It seems unimportant right now when he could be going over his plans for after they meet with Rodrigue at Ailell. He finds himself wandering back to the cathedral that evening, almost like he's hoping the formerly holy place will give him a temporary reprieve from the souls of the dead.

But they only exist in his mind, and they don't fade.

Dimitri is more responsive this time, turning to look at Felix immediately instead of simply standing there and swaying. Though he doesn't speak, there's enough clarity in his eye to show that he's listening.

"Care to tell me why you skipped today?"

"I have other things on my mind," comes the stiff response. Dimitri doesn't elaborate further than that—he doesn't want to. Fighting over this again sounds absolutely exhausting, and while he will do it if he must, he's going to do his best to avoid it.

"...Like what?"

"The trip to Ailell."

Surely, Felix can't object to that. Whatever choice they make, they need reinforcements, and Felix isn't the only one prepared to argue. Dimitri lifts his chin, walking over to the nearest pew to sit down.

"Yeah?" Felix says, tailing him to his seat but making no move to sit down and follow suit. "What about Ailell? Haven't we gone over the plans with Gilbert already?"

"We have, but there is no reason not to go over them on my own."

Obsessively. Dimitri has an obsessive personality and he knows it, but it's not as if that is something he can simply turn off with a flick of a switch. He folds his arms, subconsciously putting up a wall between Felix and himself.

"I will spar with you tomorrow."

An obvious attempt to change the subject. He tries it anyway.

"I'm not talking about tomorrow. This is about today," Felix says, clearly agitated. "And what did going over them again accomplish?"

Dimitri's shoulders draw up like an animal raising its hackles. As he thought, Felix is here to try and get him to abandon his plan to attack Enbarr.

"He doesn't understand," he can hear Glenn saying. That's right—Felix has never understood this sort of thing.

"You would not understand."

That invites Felix to shoot back and ask him why, so Dimitri adds:

"What is it you're after?"

"For you to reconsider," Felix says, undeterred, "Heading for Enbarr after Ailell is suicide. No amount of looking over is going to change that. Are you that determined to throw away your life and that of thousands of soldiers?"

Inhaling sharply, Dimitri's brows tug downward, sharpening his gaze.

"So you would have us go to the Kingdom and attempt to retake the capital, showing our hand in regards to our numbers, and just hope that the Empire doesn't come from behind while we're fighting Cornelia? We should take them by surprise."

"The only one being taken by surprise here is you," Felix says, fixing a glare at Dimitri, "Edelgard may not be the scheming lout that Claude is, but she's plenty crafty, and I'm sure she's got some contingency measures set for your half-baked plan to strike her right in her own turf. Besides, what you said can go for striking at the heart of the Empire as well—what's there to stop their Kingdom and Alliance troops from ambushing us from behind?"

"Nothing, but if we take down the Empire, we put an end to all of it. The defectors are all cowards who would give up without that woman backing them."

Still, the risks are great. Dimitri isn't stupid, only stubborn—he knows that taking back the Kingdom first is less of a gamble. But the thought of failing in the Kingdom instead of failing while doing everything he can to take Edelgard down with him makes him sick. As for what would happen if they were to win... truthfully, that makes him a little sick too.

"If we take down the Empire."

Felix sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"Look, I know we can argue until we're blue in the face regarding which move is better strategically. But more than that, your people need you to be there for them. I hate repeating myself, but I'll say it as many times needed until it gets through that thick skull of yours."

Letting his hand fall to his side, Felix narrows his eyes at Dimitri once more.

"You can coat it with as many pretty words as you want, but at the end of the day, going to Enbarr first is acting on no one's best interest but your own. Quit listening to your own selfish ego."

Abruptly, Dimitri stands, towering over Felix. It's the tactic of an animal—appear as large as possible to make your opponent back down.

"You weren't there. You didn't—the things she's allowed to happen, the things she's done, they cannot be forgiven! The dead can never rest until her head has been separated from her shoulders!"

"Says who?" The ferocity of Felix's glare intensifies, far from a cornered animal. "The dead cannot clamor for anything, precisely because they're dead. Don't you dare claim to know what they want!"

"How could I not?" Dimitri practically shouts, "I hear it all the time!"

They whisper it to him when he tries to sleep, they haunt his dreams, he even sees them while he's awake, sometimes. Right now, even. Dimitri looks off to the side as if he sees something, then back to Felix.

"If you will not carry out vengeance yourself, you can at least step aside and let me do it."

"No," Felix says, his tone brooking no room for argument. "Get your damn head out of the clouds and see things for what they are. The dead cannot hear you, nor can they talk to you. If you're so bent on avenging them, then live. Seize your life for your own and quit hanging their imaginary wishes around your neck!"

Seize his life for his own. Somehow, no one's told Dimitri to do that yet, or perhaps if they did, he didn't hear them. It seems so simple, but at the same time, impossible.

"Then how—"

His voice cracks slightly. Dimitri looks away again.

"How do I silence their pleas? I was the only one... the only one that survived, save for Dedue. And now even he has left me behind!"

"I..."

That takes the wind out of Felix's sails, rendering him speechless for a moment as he gapes at the boar before he lets his gaze fall to the ground, uneasy. How is he supposed to answer that?

It's so easy to stew in his anger and let it be his fuel when the boar is determinedly spouting nonsense about the dead. But now that the boar is asking for his help, he doesn't know. The boar still isn't making any sense, but all the same...

"...am not going anywhere," Felix says, quiet as his eyes rest on the boar once more, "Doesn't that matter enough to you?"

"You are... someone I cherish. But I still—"

The boar cuts itself off, rubbing its hands together anxiously as he's been wont to do since reuniting with everyone.

"I do not want to see you die for my sake. Even if you wouldn't do so intentionally, saying that I'm needed—I don't want people to need me to the point that they'll defend me at the cost of their own safety. It would be better if everyone let me be."

Someone I cherish. Hearing that from the boar inexplicably causes no shortage of color to rise to Felix's cheeks, but Felix decides not to dwell on it, shaking his head.

"What if I don't want to?"

Simply let things be.

"I won't pretend to speak for the others, but I have no plans of sitting pretty while you wallow in your misery. Or on the battlefield for the matter. Don't you have any faith in my abilities?"

"I do," the boar says, "You are very skilled. But I had faith in their abilities, as well."

"I'm not them," Felix says, taking a deep breath. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Stricken, Dimitri lifts his hand and starts to stretch it out.

"You are."

Felix tenses at the extended hand, but when nothing comes to pass as a result of it as Dimitri draws back, his stomach uncoils, himself letting out an exhale. It's strange, why is he so nervous about this? And the worst part is that it's far from an anxiety he's familiar with, especially when his heart skips a beat at the move.

Yet, the boar's thoughts seem to be elsewhere, and the moment it looks away, looking at those damned ghosts, Felix doesn't hesitate to throw a punch at its face, aiming for its blind side.

"That real enough for you?" Felix says, apprehensive, but at the same time, satisfied to note that it manages to connect.

Felix did expect the boar to retaliate, but the manner and speed by which it does catches him off-guard, and the next thing he knows, he's crashed against a pew, pinned against it as the boar bares down on him with inhuman strength.

"I don't have the patience to play games with you," the boar growls as it holds him down by the shoulders, leaning in until they're nose to nose.

"Nor do I." Felix bites back through strained breaths, glaring as he rolls his shoulders in an attempt to disengage, following up with an attempt to knee his assailant. "Get off me, boar."

Though the boar does let go of his shoulders, it only does so after straddling Felix's thighs, pinning him down with a combination of its beastly strength and gravity. Felix's pulse spikes when the boar moves to straddle him like that—because of tension? Fear? Something else? He'll think on that later, as soul-searching is a luxury he can't afford when he's pinned down like this. Trying to sit up seems like a futile exercise at this point, so Felix gives up on that, narrowing his eyes at the boar instead as it takes in a few gulps of air.

"No," it says, "Tell me what the hell that was for."

"You don't believe it," Felix says, never minding how the ferocity of his glare is undermined by the way crimson colors his cheeks. "That I'm real, and not one of them." 

"And striking me for words I did not say seems like an effective way to prove it?"

The boar fists its hands in Felix's shirt, taking another deep breath. It doesn't seem to notice that its hands are trembling. It swallows, then climbs off and lets Felix go. Without another word, the boar turns on its heel and starts to stalk out of the church.

Felix is slow to rise, and by the time he sits up, the boar had long since stormed out, leaving Felix with nothing but inner turmoil in its wake.

He brings a hand to where the boar had fisted his shirt, taking a deep breath as he slides his legs off the pew. Felix cringes slightly at the smarting bruise behind him as he shifts his position, wondering how he's going to explain this to Manuela once he goes over to the infirmary. More than the physical pain he's in, a twinge of guilt eats at him, the realization that he had gone too far sinking in as he stares blankly at the exit the boar had gone through.

For the following week, Felix avoids the boar, not too keen on a repeat of his last encounter with it. Instead, he focuses on other things, and with the way Garreg Mach is now, there is no shortage of things to do in between his training sessions. From overseeing people's own trainings to helping with supply runs, his days following that unpleasant incident were busy, the closest thing he had to respite being teatime with the Professor. Felix could swear that they have been biding their time for it, making sure to approach him during a time they're sure he isn't busy. But for what it's worth, it is a fruitful time, if a bit embarrassing. Apparently, the Professor had caught some of his conversation with the boar back then. While they sympathized with Felix's goals, they still advised him to handle the boar with a little more care, or "to play nice" so to speak.

Still, it is a relaxing endeavor, and Felix finds himself a touch lighter after that session. He even agrees to fetch the book that Ingrid had left in the stables—a task that normally is beyond him.

Even the boar's presence isn't enough to tank his good mood, and it's only with a small tsk that he pushes past it, searching the place for Ingrid's book.

"Didn't expect to see you here," Felix says under his breath.

Dimitri, too, makes himself busy—busy avoiding the cathedral, not wanting to be cornered by Felix again. It seems ridiculous to essentially be hiding from him, but their last encounter left him too raw and more confused than ever. He doesn't doubt that Felix cares in his own way, but he truly doesn't know what Felix wants from him. He wants him to shift his target to reclaiming the Kingdom, that much is clear.

But he just can't make sense of the way Felix pushed him to open up and then socked him in the jaw when he wasn't even saying anything objectionable. Is it because Felix wanted him to be frank? Did he want him to say aloud that a part of him was wondering if Felix appearing to scold him was just a trick his mind was playing? Did he want Dimitri to admit to pushing people away in a sad attempt to absolve himself of responsibility if something happens to them? Would it have gone over better if he clung to Felix as a child clings to their favorite blanket?

There are too many questions, and he fears to ask anyone else to help him find the answers.

Surprisingly, Dimitri hasn't started spiraling again. He doesn't get any better, but he remains aware of his surroundings and makes sure to bathe and eat regularly. Though he avoids the training grounds, he keeps in shape by slotting in small workouts from time to time. And since he no longer feels like lurking in the cathedral, he's made a discovery: there's a particularly chubby horse in the stables that starts to get excited when anyone approaches. It makes for a good lookout, and Dimitri has become somewhat fond of it over the last week. He'll be giving it a light brushing when Felix pushes past him. Dimitri tenses, looking up to the horse—

Who is doing its little dance that it does when it thinks it might get a treat. He's not imagining Felix.

"Nor I you," Dimitri murmurs in reply.

For some reason, that causes Felix to let out something Dimitri swears is a laugh, but is abruptly cut off with a strangled noise akin to someone choking. What in the world was that?

"Blame it on Ingrid," Felix says, coughing.

Dimitri makes to grab a small treat for the horse, peeking over at Felix as he does so. 

"...Is something funny?"

"Nothing," Felix says, still looking around the stable, "I hate the air around here."

After another moment or two passes without any conflict, Dimitri speaks up again.

"Did she leave something? She was mending a saddle over there."

"...Yeah, she did." Felix's gaze falls on the direction Dimitri is gesturing to, and seems to locate what he is searching for. Gingerly stepping over a pile of hay, he makes his way to the ledge across and picks up what looks to be a book.

"Thanks," Felix says as an afterthought.

Dimitri's answer is nothing more than a nod. Neither one of them have shown any sign of wanting another fight, but the atmosphere is still somehow tense, like they're both just waiting for the other to pounce. Part of him wants to apologize, another part wants to make Felix do it, and the rest just wants to leave and find another place to be alone with his thoughts. In the end, he settles for a mixture.

Dimitri puts everything he was using away, purposefully walking toward Felix even though it means heading further into the stable instead of out. Like that night, he stretches his hand out—but this time, he makes contact, lightly patting Felix's shoulder as if to say "I know you're here". He still doesn't know exactly what it was that set Felix off in the cathedral, but he does know that it happened when he stopped himself from confirming that Felix was real.

As expected, Felix tenses at the contact, but he doesn't flinch away from it. Dimitri doesn't linger, content to make his exit then.

"...Hey."

And here, Dimitri thought he would be able to get away before Felix worked up the nerve to say anything. Still, he's... glad, he thinks. That he was at least partially right in guessing what made Felix snap like that.

"Yes?"

"Don't just... randomly touch people like that," Felix says. "It's disturbing."

Hesitantly, Dimitri turns toward him fully. Head hung, cheeks flushed—is Felix so easily embarrassed? It's a little... cute.

"You were angry that I stopped last time, were you not? I wanted you to know that I know you're real."

"Yes, but..."

Felix shakes his head, still unable to look at Dimitri.

"...No, it's not that. Just... look at me when we're alone, okay? You get this far away look in your eye sometimes—I don't know if you're seeing me or someone else."

So that was it. That's what set him off the first time too, wasn't it? When he called him "Glenn". Compared to grabbing Felix by the throat, slipping up on the name he calls him by seemed insignificant, and Dimitri hadn't thought on it since the morning after the incident until now.

Dimitri takes a few steps forward, closing some of the distance between them. He stops once they're only a couple of feet apart, peering down at Felix searchingly.

Felix takes a deep breath, still not looking up.

"Right now..."

Then he does, meeting Dimitri's gaze head on, equally searching.

"...who do you see?"

For another few seconds, Dimitri remains silent. Just saying "I see you" immediately doesn't feel right, and Dimitri takes the time to really look at him.

He's hurt Felix, hasn't he?

With a soft sigh, he reaches out again and brushes Felix's bangs away from his face with his fingertips.

"I see you, Felix."

The gesture surprises Felix, but he doesn't pull away, nor does he avert his gaze. His chest swells, and he doesn't know if it's due to that soft, verbal reassurance, or the shockingly gentle fingers that brush against his brow. Both are relics of the past, things that send a flood of unwanted nostalgia washing over him, threatening to drown him in images of a friend long gone.

In lieu of a spoken response, Felix opts to rest his head lightly against the boar's chest, swallowing back the lump that had rose in his throat. It almost feels like he has his best friend back, and the realization hurts him more than he'd like to admit, fills him with regret and sorrow at what he had become—

—Nay, what they had become. Felix knows he's just as responsible for the way things had turned out, and for the first time in ages, he feels lost, like that child that would often curl up next to Dimitri when the nightmares wouldn't stop no matter what he did.

Arms rise to wrap around Felix's shoulders, drawing him into a warm embrace. Felix drops the book, more than taken aback by the warm arms wrapped around him. Ingrid's stern chastisement is the last thing on his mind, currently filled by nothing but that familiar warmth, one that causes his eyes to widen momentarily before he closes them, leaning into the embrace. For the first time in what he thinks to be a decade, Felix feels overcome by the urge to weep, throat still heavy despite his earlier attempt to get rid of that heaviness.

It's Dimitri. It really is him, and not simply a creature wearing his best friend's skin.

When he's paying attention this closely, it's impossible for Dimitri to miss the slightly shaky quality to Felix's breathing. It's a sound that's both familiar and foreign, one that strangely doesn't seem out of place despite the taciturn man that Felix has become. That sound breaks his heart, but somehow, it mends it, too. He finally realizes in that moment what he would risk losing in a suicidal march toward Enbarr.

"I'm here," Dimitri whispers softly, echoing the words Felix said to him in the cathedral.

I'm here.

The words echo in his ears, same as those he'd spoken not too long ago. Those two syllables are all it takes for the dam in Felix's chest to break, tears hot in his eyes as he lets out a sob against the boar--nay, Dimitri's chest. He hangs his head as he weeps, letting almost a decade's worth of bottled up sorrow and regret flow out as he raises his shaky arms around Dimitri, ready to welcome a long-lost friend back.

It's like stepping back in time, back to before he became the broken shell of a man he is now. For Dimitri, there's still so much he has to overcome that he can't possibly let it all out at once. He just isn't capable of processing that much emotion. But the profound sense of relief he feels at having Felix accept him with open arms once more is enough to bring tears to his eye all on its own. He's unrestrained as he clings to him, holding Felix's head to his chest and burying his nose in his hair. Dimitri's missed him fiercely, more than he ever realized with anger overshadowing all his other feelings.

They can hardly cry like a pair of five-year-olds forever, though. Eventually, the tears dry up—before anyone saw them, Dimitri hopes. He draws back slightly once Felix's breathing evens out, reaching down to tilt his chin up so that he's looking him in the eye.

"Who do you see?"

Felix looks back at him with red-rimmed eyes, exhaling.

"...Dimitri," he says slowly, but surely.

It's the answer Dimitri wanted and the answer he expected, but somehow, actually hearing it makes his heartbeat speed up for a moment. Felix hasn't directly addressed him with his name since his voice changed, and somehow, it feels different now. He finds himself oddly thankful for the fact that his face gets red when he cries, safe in the knowledge that the brief rush of heat to his cheeks will go unnoticed.

"...Good. I'm... glad to hear it."

Goddess, but they're a mess. He really should start carrying a handkerchief again. For now, he'll have to be satisfied with sniffling a bit and removing one of his gloves so that he can dab his eyes.

Felix takes a moment as well to do the same, brushing his knuckles against his eyes to wipe away the last of his tears. It's around then that he breaks away from their embrace, picking up the book he had dropped. Which he wipes against his coat, but judging from the sigh Felix lets out, the gesture seems to be insufficient.

"...Ingrid's going to kill me," Felix mutters under his breath, voice still soft and raw from crying earlier.

"The pages inside do not seem like they've been damaged. She will scold you a little less if you find someone to rebind it for her."

Heaven help him if the inside of the book were to get damaged, though. Dimitri makes an attempt to clear his throat, conscious of how rough his voice sounds then too. 

"You should probably redo your hair. If you go walking around looking like someone was digging their fingers into it," Which Dimitri was, but that's not important, "Sylvain will never stop pestering you trying to find out if you found a girlfriend."

"...Yeah, I'll deal with it," Felix says, rubbing at his nose, "Guess we have to wash up first anyway if we don't want people asking questions."

"I shall get some water from the pump."

Because as embarrassing as it is, currently, no one would dare say anything if they saw Dimitri looking like he'd been crying. But if the wrong person were to see Felix, they would definitely tease him. Dimitri's profoundly relieved to have Felix opening up again, so he doesn't want someone prompting him to shut down. Dimitri grabs a bucket and steps out to the pump.

Hopefully the handle isn't frozen. If he has to work at it to get the water going, he might just snap the handle off…

Chapter Text

Somehow, Felix and Dimitri manage to go through the next couple of days without suffering through another unpleasant clash. Dimitri even offers to spar with him again, though he doesn't suggest a bath afterward. The memory of Felix calling him by his name again and the way that made him feel makes him oddly anxious about it. Not that Felix does it again, but at least he's shifted from constantly calling him "boar". Now, Dimitri's name is apparently "you".

He'll take it.

With their interactions going smoothly instead of devolving into disasters, Dimitri starts to open up a little bit. After enduring a sleepless night tucked away in one of his hiding places, he decides that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have Felix there to watch his back. When it's near the hour Felix usually retires, Dimitri gathers up a pillow and a blanket. Then, he goes to knock on Felix's door.

Felix is fully dressed when he answers the door, looking surprised to see him at first.

"...Come in." 

With a soft sigh of relief, Dimitri steps inside. He usually only saw Felix's room from the other side of the threshold back during their academy days, but he remembers how it looked nonetheless—it's nice to see that it's mostly the same. He doesn't quite make eye contact when he speaks up, preferring to stare at the wall instead.

"I could not sleep," is all he says. Actually asking to stay is a little too embarrassing.

"I figured. My floor isn't the comfiest, but if it works for you, suit yourself."

"I appreciate it," Dimitri says, proceeding to tuck himself into what he deems the safest corner. He doesn't remove his armor, nor does he actually lie down—he just sits with the pillow on his shoulder so he can rest his head on it.

"...Are you really going to bed like that?" Felix says, incredulous.

"Yes?"

How else would he be able to quiet his mind enough to go to sleep? When he's in a half-asleep state, he reverts right back to that beast who lived only for slaughter.

"...No wonder you couldn't get a good night's rest."

Felix presses a hand this temple briefly, shaking his head.

"Look, you got to relax before bed, and part of it is getting rid of all that bulk."

Dimitri almost says that he can't sleep without his armor anymore, but... Felix said that he should believe in him, and if they're actually in the same room, he wants to at least try.

"...I suppose you are right."

He can't remove his armor tucked into a corner, though. Dimitri stands up and starts the process of getting all that metal off as Felix does the same for his own clothing. The clothing Dimitri had on underneath is not particularly suited for sleeping in either, but it's far better than his armor. He uses that blanket to make himself a bed of sorts on the floor, lying down parallel to the wall facing outward.

"...Good night," Felix says, closing his eyes as he curls on his side, facing where Dimitri lay.

Dimitri's gaze lifts when Felix speaks. Seeing him on his side like that with his hair loose around his face is strange. Not bad, but strange. He looks... beautiful, honestly.

Dimitri's cheeks flush slightly as he looks away, letting his eye fall shut a few seconds later.

"Good night."

As always, it takes Dimitri quite a while to fall asleep, but he does actually manage it. He even manages to stay asleep for almost a full sleep cycle, but once he starts dreaming, it's all over. Dimitri wakes with a choked gasp, immediately scrambling to his feet. His chest heaves as his gaze darts around the room. Eventually, his eye settles on Felix, peacefully sleeping in his bed.

He is sleeping, right? With Felix on his side, Dimitri can't see the rise and fall of his chest. Dimitri tries to tell himself that he's okay, but in the end, he has to go and check. He pads his way over to the bedside, kneeling there. This close, he can hear that he's breathing. Dimitri lets out a sigh, lowering his forehead to rest his head on the mattress.

While Dimitri rising abruptly does not rouse Felix, the foreign weight on his mattress certainly does, and he sharply rises in response, about to throw his full body weight on the intruder—

Oh, it's Dimitri. Felix exhales, willing his rush of adrenaline to abate as he studies Dimitri. He looks... surprisingly relieved? Did he just have a bad dream? But that doesn't explain why...

...Unless it was about Felix. The thought of Dimitri potentially dreaming about him has color rushing to his cheeks, thankful Dimitri isn't looking his way then.

After a moment's consideration, Felix sighs as he comes to a certain thought.

"...Climb on in."

He scoots back, making room for Dimitri to lie in. It'll probably be a tight fit for the two of them, but it seems like a small price to pay if Dimitri manages to get a good night's sleep out of it.

Dimitri's startled into lifting his head when Felix moves so quickly—he was such a heavy sleeper when they were children, so Dimitri didn't think that a shifting mattress would be enough to make him stir. But they've been at war for five years now. It makes sense that Felix wakes at a disturbance.

Even more surprising is having Felix invite him to climb into the bed with him. Dimitri just looks at him for a couple of seconds with his eye open wide. He can feel the heat creeping over his cheeks at the offer. Having a scary dream and wanting to climb in bed with someone is incredibly juvenile. How pathetic must he look for Felix to extend an invitation to join him?

"Will you be able to sleep?"

It's not a big bed, after all.

"...Yeah. Don't worry about it, just get in."

As if to emphasize his point, Felix settles on one side of the bed, lying once more on his side. This time, his back is towards Dimitri, perhaps a small consideration on his behalf.

Which works. It's far easier to work up the nerve to get in bed with Felix when Felix isn't facing him. Dimitri climbs on in, slipping underneath the covers. He almost turns his back to Felix, but... he really does think he would feel better if he could check where the dream version of Felix was injured. Dimitri reaches out and gently brushes Felix's hair out of his way, dragging his fingertips over the back of the nightshirt he's wearing.

Felix stiffens under his touch, but it only lasts a moment, and he doesn't pull away as he exhales.

"...I'm okay."

For Felix to guess so quickly what he was doing is a little embarrassing, but at the same time, Dimitri's glad. Being understood like this makes him feel like he is actually recovering, even if it's slowly. If he were still completely mad, he doesn't think Felix would be able to unravel the reasons behind his actions so easily.

"Good," Dimitri says softly in response. He curls his fingers up in Felix's shirt, reassuring himself with the contact as he closes his eyes.

It's a little strange having Dimitri's hand against his back like that, but Felix decides to let it be, closing his eyes once more in an attempt to sleep. A good kind of strange, Felix thinks as his eyes droop. Even if their positions are reversed from when they were children, the fact that he can still do this much for Dimitri reassures and warms his heart. Is this what Dimitri felt back when he'd embrace Felix, whispering reassurances after he woke up from some nightmare or another? If so, then it's no wonder he readily gave the comfort Felix craved back in the day.

Lulled by distant, yet comfortable memories of what once was, Felix falls straight back into the land of sleep, the barest of satisfied smiles on his lips.

The rest of Felix's sleep proceeds smoothly, resulting into him feeling completely rested once he rises naturally.

Tempting as it is to remain near Dimitri's warmth—when did he ever get this close—Felix forces himself to inch away, making his way to the foot of the bed so he can climb out.

...The movement doesn't wake Dimitri, a fact that Felix notes with a mixture of surprise and fascination. He couldn't resist studying Dimitri as he proceeds to tie his hair, marveling at the occurrence. It's been a while since he's seen Dimitri look this... peaceful, to say the least of it, as if war and solitude hadn't aged him into the bitter, vengeful man he is now.

Was? Is? Felix isn't sure which is more appropriate, but when Dimitri's sleeping like this, it's hard to think of his feral side as a current state of being. He continues to mull it over as he moves to don his coat and other layers of clothing, lost in his thoughts as he finishes dressing up.

Once he's done, he's nowhere closer to finding an answer. At the very least, he doesn't feel uneasy about it, sparing Dimitri's back a rare grin before he grabs his sword and slips out of his room.

Much to Dimitri's surprise, he actually sleeps the equivalent of a full night, and it's past breakfast time by the time he awakens. The first thing he notices is Felix's absence—how in the world did Felix manage to leave without waking him up? At any rate, he's glad. He hasn't felt this clear-headed in ages, and he'll take advantage of it by taking a brief walk around the monastery grounds Hopefully, seeing him looking a little more normal will put people at ease.

Those plans are interrupted, however, when he finds Felix feeding his table scraps to some cats, tucked between the dining hall and the classrooms. It makes for an adorable little scene, one which will probably be over once he approaches, so he'll wait until all the cats are eating before walking over.

"I see you have some friends."

Felix goes about his morning routine without incident, eventually ending up in the dining hall for breakfast after exercise. His mood light enough to gather some of the dining hall's leftovers, having sighted some of the usual cats by the classrooms. What started out as an act of pity had evolved into something of a habit, a thing he chooses to do if he had the time to spare before his other tasks around the monastery.

Today is supposed to be no different, at least until familiar footsteps approach from behind, along with it a familiar voice.

"Friends?" He scoffs. "I'm only doing this to shut them up."

Which is, well, half the truth. Even if it is a truth from a long time ago. Felix determinedly focuses his gaze towards the cats as they eat, knowing it would be difficult to keep his expression level should he lock eyes with Dimitri.

Of course, that only prompts Dimitri to squat next to him, no doubt to study his expression. Felix wastes no time in tearing his gaze away, even if it's likely Dimitri has caught his tiny, embarrassed smile as one of the cats paws at Felix's hand.

"They are rather cute," Dimitri says.

Still, Felix can't help but train his gaze back on Dimitri as one of the cats pads to him. The look on Dimitri's face is sure comical, and Felix ends up snorting at the sight of Dimitri freezing up, looking like he's afraid that merely breathing on it might kill it.

"...Take some of scraps from here," Felix says, rustling the bag of leftovers on his lap and offering it to Dimitri. He lets it hang above the ground such that the cats wouldn't be able to reach it easily, "They won't bite."

Though more than anything, it did look like Dimitri is more concerned about the reverse situation.

"I am not afraid of being bitten," Dimitri says, reddening slightly as he removes one of his gloves to take out a little food from the offered bag. Did Dimitri want to feel the cat's fur…?

"Right."

Felix lets out a short chuckle, loosely sealing the bag before leaving it between him and Dimitri. The cats might check it out later, but it should be easy enough to keep it away from those Felix is sure had eaten a lot already.

"What else could you be scared of?"

Truthfully, Felix had an idea—Dimitri has had trouble controlling his strength back in the day, which had resulted into a bunch of mishaps—including some broken kitten bones and a lot of crying—but it feels only natural to tease him a little about things, especially with the easy atmosphere that falls over them as of late.

"It has been quite some time, but... I hurt one, once. It seems safer not to touch them."

Dimitri sighs to himself, peeking over at Felix again.

"My control has improved considerably since then, though. Perhaps I needn't continue avoiding small animals."

"Yeah."

Felix grows pensive under Dimitri's gaze, fishing out more food to offer the cats as he concentrates on them over making eye contact.

"You'll never know if you don't try. They're also not as delicate as you think, so quit being a chicken about it."

The cat finishes up the food Dimitri was holding for it and immediately starts crying for more. With a soft chuckle, Dimitri starts to reach for that bag of food again—only to change his mind halfway and place his hand on the crown of Felix's head instead. Felix freezes at the hand over his head, a mixture of apprehension and indignation filling him at the childish gesture.

"The cats are over there, you idiot."

Felix huffs, flushing slightly at the familiar warmth that hung over him. But he doesn't attempt to swat away Dimitri's hand, a part of him decidedly comfortable with where it lay.

Dimitri laughs at his reaction—genuinely so, without mockery or malice. He lightly strokes Felix's hair, careful not to mess up his updo.

"If I am a boar, then you are a cat." 

"Can it, boar."

But Felix says it without vitriol, more like the way would address someone by a pet name. Never mind that he's making good on the comparison by pulling out his figurative claws by lightly punching Dimitri on the shoulder.

Once that's over, Felix's eyes fall on Dimitri, watching he carefully holds out his had to the cat again. Dimitri doesn't pet it, but he does let it headbutt his fingers.

"...It won't scratch you if you try to pet it, you know."

Is all he says in the way of encouragement, content with watching Dimitri taking his time. Still, a little prod here and there never hurt, and Dimitri certainly looked like he badly needed one.

As if sharing an inside joke with himself, Dimitri smiles to himself as he lightly pets the back of the cat's head. When the cat barely reacts, he takes it a step further, emboldened enough to stroke its back. Eventually, it starts purring.

"...It's a pleasant sound."

Felix simply grunts his approval, directing his attention to the cats that were meowing for his attention. While Dimitri plays with that cat, Felix busies himself with feeding the rest of them, ever the benevolent one. It's easier to concentrate on that task—better it than dwelling on how... cute, for lack of a better word, Dimitri is when he gets caught up with the questionable delight of petting a cat.

"If you enjoy it so much, the dining hall usually has some leftovers for them after meals."

Dimitri laughs—a sound so foreign to Felix's ears that it gets him to look Dimitri's way, giving him a funny look in the process. But still, it's not as alien as the sight of Dimitri actually playing with the cat and getting way into it. He's even taking off his second glove so he could pick it up. And the next thing Felix knows, the cat is kneading the fur on Dimitri's cloak.

"You're hopeless," Felix says, pressing a hand to forehead and shaking his head in half-hearted exasperation. These things should be made illegal, if he is to venture an opinion.

"Is that so?" Dimitri inches over toward Felix, promptly placing the cat on his hood with a little grin. Which prompts Felix to do the maddest, most ungraceful scramble in all of Fódlan to prevent the cat from falling out of his hood.

"Well, now you're the same," Dimitri says, "We'll just have to keep this incident a secret."

Pulling the cat over his head and narrowly avoiding a kick to the face, Felix gives Dimitri the dirtiest look he could manage.

"That goes without saying," Felix says, gently laying the cat on the ground and letting it scamper off to its compatriots. "And here I thought Sylvain was the incorrigible one."

"This sort of thing is fine every now and again," Dimitri says, stretching out his hand to dust off some dirty smudges from the cat that no doubt made their way to Felix's coat. He pauses for a moment when his eye meets Felix's.

"...Thank you."

Felix hmphs in response, quick to avert his gaze once their gazes meet. Frankly, it's embarrassing being thanked for this, and it still feels strange to be caught doing this by Dimitri of all people. But, for what it's worth, Dimitri isn't a bad companion for these kinds of things. Dimitri may be no Annette when it comes to mood-making, but his presence is oddly calming when he's like this—peaceful even. As if now were a stolen moment in time, from a time they weren't at war and had time to worry about frivolous matters.

And when it comes to that, Felix, much as he wouldn't admit it, will take what he can get.

"...Guess I'd better get going," Felix says, making a move to get on his feet. "The supplies I agreed to help inventory should've arrived by now."

Dimitri rises as well, nodding as he tugs his gloves back on.

"I have a few things I should attend to myself. If we have the energy left after attending to our chores, perhaps we can work in some training."

"I'll take you up on that offer."

Felix smiles, mostly to himself. There's nothing like a good workout to potentially look forward to at the end of the rather monotonous task he's been assigned to, and Dimitri has proven himself to be quite an enjoyable sparring companion.

"I should be done around mid-afternoon, but I'll let you know in case I can't make it."

It really, truly seems that Dimitri might be starting to recover. He trains with Felix almost every day from then on, usually at night—the exhaustion and endorphins help him to manage to fall asleep in his bedroom more frequently. The sleep does wonders for him, and he avoids having any particularly disturbing nightmares. For the most part, his dreams are simply... odd. Felix is frequently in them, something which Dimitri chalks up to the fact that Felix is the last person he sees before sleeping. It may also be due to the heated looks they exchange whenever their matches get particularly fierce, but since he's just now properly mending his friendship with Felix, Dimitri pushes any confusing thoughts away. There's no need to complicate things.

As the meeting at Ailell draws closer, Dimitri does withdraw slightly. He's giving some serious thought to everything Felix has said to him. Should he take back the kingdom before getting his vengeance? In the end, he doesn't come up with any solid answers and resolves to ask Rodrigue once they're all safely back at the monastery.

Unfortunately, things can't just go smoothly forever. A spy gives away the location of the meeting, resulting in a fierce battle on treacherous terrain. Dimitri isn't so affected by the heat that he can't fight at all, but he is more sluggish than usual, and it's difficult for him to concentrate. Since he's been training with Felix often enough that they work well together, Felix is right there when an enemy almost gets the jump on Dimitri. Despite all the times he's expressed disgust for a knight's devotion to the king, Felix shields Dimitri from the blow.

It's in the exact place on his back that it was in Dimitri's nightmare.

The cry Dimitri lets out doesn't even sound human anymore. He rapidly dispatches the enemy soldier that made the blow, freeing him to pick Felix up and rush him away from the front lines. The blade that cut him seems to have been coated in some sort of poison or paralytic, rendering Felix unconscious for the remainder of the battle. Desperate to get him back to the monastery where they have better facilities to heal him up, Dimitri charges right back into battle, every bit as monstrous and bloodthirsty as he had been the day the professor found him again.

As the monastery is a far distance from Ailell, they make a stop in Galatea territory instead. Once they settle in an infirmary close to Count Galatea's estate, Dimitri refuses to leave Felix's side, even to wash off the blood that covers him. Manuela tries to reassure him that the poison didn't do any permanent damage and that Felix should wake soon, but he won't listen. Wary of setting him off, she just brings him some fresh clothing and wet washcloths to clean up with. By the time night falls, Dimitri has driven everyone else out of the infirmary, even Rodrigue—he can't stand to look at him after he had the nerve to say he was proud of Felix.

At the time, Felix hadn't given it much thought. It is as if another instinct had taken over his body that instant, the need to protect something bigger than him, even more important than his own very treasured life.

Dimitri's pained howl is the last thing that rings in his ears as he loses consciousness, unable to process anything more than that and his own regret. Of dying in the middle of this Goddess-forsaken battlefield, not even close to their goal of taking back their kingdom. Of being unable to call Dimitri by his name once more, to thank him for being a good friend...

So prepared is he to die that waking up to unfamiliar grey-washed walls is the last thing he expected out of the recent turn of events. He tries to pull himself to a sitting position, but the stiffness to his back makes it impossible, his wound still clearly on the mend despite what he feels to be a generous infusion of white magic and medicine.

Giving up on it for the moment, he lies back, turning his attention to the side, eyes widening at what he sees. Nothing prepares him for the person he finds by his bedside—not Manuela, nor Mercedes, not even the Professor, but…

"Di... mitri...?"

There's a touch of disbelief to Felix's weak tone, wondering what could have prompted this turn of events.

Dimitri hasn't slept since the battle. Once again, Dimitri's eyes are heavily shadowed, his hair unkempt. The best he's managed is little snippets while sitting up, and he can clearly see Glenn at the foot of Felix's bed, shooting a withering glare at him. His attention is instantly pulled away from the ghost when Felix speaks, and the relief Dimitri feels is so powerful that he doesn't even register Felix using his actual name.

"You're awake," Dimitri whispers in a rough voice, clasping one of Felix's hands in both of his own. Felix still feels a little cool, but he's nowhere near as bad as he was when they first brought him to the infirmary. Dimitri brings that hand to his own cheek, holding it there, grateful that his fingers aren't so cold anymore.

That prompts Felix to caress his cheek, a touch which Dimitri leans into as he takes a deep breath in a failed attempt to center himself. 

"...Is there a glass of water around?" Felix asks when he tucks away a stray strand of hair from Dimitri's face.

"Yes."

Dimitri squeezes Felix's hand one more time before rising to retrieve the water pitcher and a glass. Dimitri only fills the glass about a quarter full, knowing that Felix likely won't be able to sit up all the way and will have to take small sips to avoid dumping water on his face. But he brings the pitcher with him, and he'll fill it however many times Felix wants him to.

"Here."

"...Thanks."

It takes six refills before Felix speaks again, taking a deep breath before he does.

"How long was I out?" he asks, handing back his glass to Dimitri.

"A day," Dimitri says, setting aside the glass and pitcher on the nightstand. "Nearly a day and a half."

But Felix is awake now, so why hasn't that sick feeling started to fade? Dimitri lowers his head to the mattress near Felix's shoulder. He won't climb in with him, but he's hoping he'll feel a little more at ease if he's close.

It doesn't help much. Maybe it's because this isn't over—they still have to get back to the monastery.

"If Manuela says that it is safe to move you, we'll start making our way back to Garreg Mach tomorrow."

"...Did you all stop here just for me?"

"No. It would put too much of a strain on Count Galatea if we all stopped here. Most of the men are continuing the march home; only those who were gravely injured and some of the healers remain—and Sylvain and Ingrid, though I suppose that's no surprise."

This is Ingrid's home, after all, and Sylvain has visited often enough to feel comfortable here. Besides, they were worried for Felix as well, and since Ingrid had the good sense not to echo Rodrigue's sentiments, Dimitri didn't try to run her out.

Rodrigue. Felix will likely ask where he is, so he might as well get it out of the way now. He lies there for another moment, then he lifts his head so that he can look down at Felix.

"Rodrigue wanted to remain as well, but I sent him ahead."

"...Good," Felix exhales, relief evident in his tone. Him rolling onto his back prompts Dimitri to sit up straight, clearly anxious about Felix aggravating his wound. But enough healing has been poured into it that it's unlikely to rip back open unless he really starts stressing it—simply rolling over might hurt a bit, but it won't prompt bleeding.

"...Thanks." Felix says, briefly closing his eyes. "He said some nonsense about being proud of what I did, didn't he?"

Dimitri inhales sharply at the question, struggling to keep his temper.

"...Yes," he replies stiffly.

"...Knew it. He's always been good at saying the worst things at the worst possible time."

With his eyes closed, Felix won't be able to see the way Dimitri's expression warps. Small blessings.

"I believe he will be more careful about what he says in the immediate future."

Rodrigue is likely going to avoid speaking as much as he can in general after Dimitri decked him right on the jaw. Even when Dimitri is exhausted, dehydrated, and emotionally compromised, taking a direct hit from him does a lot of damage. Thankfully, healers were right there and everything will mend in time.

"...We should hurry back as soon as possible," Felix says, sighing, "I'll probably a pain to haul back, but I promise to make it up to all of you when we get back to the monastery."

And just like that, Dimitri softens again. He should probably retrieve Manuela to take a look at Felix now that he's awake, and Sylvain and Ingrid will want to see him too, but... he wants to keep him to himself for a little while longer.

With a soft sigh, Dimitri reaches out and curls a lock of Felix's hair around his index finger. If he could do it without hurting him, he would definitely be climbing in with him again.

"...I want you to promise me something else, Felix."

"Yeah?" Felix lets out a slow breath. "What is it?"

"I'll stop the march on the Empire in favor of taking back the Kingdom first. You were right—it would have almost certainly ended in a massacre. So…"

Dimitri clenches his fist, tugging on Felix's hair slightly.

"Never risk yourself like that for me again. I would rather die than have you die for me."

That applies to his crazed charge toward the Empire, too. He couldn't bear it if Felix died due to his bloodlust.

Felix's eyes fly right open, himself gaping at Dimitri as if he couldn't believe his eyes. That is the last thing Felix ever expected to come out of Dimitri's mouth at the time that he simply stares for a good minute before he finds his voice.

"...I'm not sure I can."

His brows crease, troubled. This is the moment he had been working towards, yet what Dimitri asks of him is something he isn't sure he can give. Despite his views on knighthood and the like, Felix finds himself thinking he'd be willing to put himself in danger once more should the need arise.

He doesn't want to lose Dimitri ever again.

"But…" Felix's hand finds Dimitri's, laying it over his clenched fist. "I guess that just means we have to get stronger so that never happens again."

Dimitri is quick to clasp Felix's hand again once it touches his fist. He brings it toward his face once more, pressing a kiss to Felix's fingers like a worried lover or family member would. He'll analyze the reasons behind his own actions later. For now, he needs that comfort, to be able to physically feel that Felix is here and whole in as many ways as he possibly can.

"It will not happen again," he whispers in response, closing his eyes. Dimitri won't let it happen again, and he'll do whatever he has to in order to ensure it. He won't make the mistake of ignoring any messages sent in his dreams.

Despite being conscious, Felix does feel he's a little out of it—he isn't sure if he just imagined the dark undertone of Dimitri's response, or the fact that Dimitri just kissed his fingers then.

But no, a warm tingle remains from where Dimitri had pressed his lips, suffusing Felix with a warmth he feels all the way to his toes.

His cheeks are no exception to the matter, burning a light pink as he squeezes Dimitri's hand, humming his assent as he closes his eyes again. Felix resolves to take the time to mull on these strange things later, but for now, sleep is starting to sound like a good idea.