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Dimitri is happy whenever the professor asks him if he wants to share a meal with them. He's never one to refuse an invitation, from anyone, but the professor is one of the few people he feels entirely comfortable around, even though they've known each other for mere weeks. The professor did save his life, amongst the one of Edelgard and Claude, after all.
Now they are seating in the dining hall, dishes served. Sylvain is here, too. He doesn't mind his presence either. They are friends, they were since a long time ago. He feels at ease around him, except for when he talks about some specific subjects, such as his girl conquests, or the girls he wants to present to him.
But this time, it is an entirely other subject that leaves him bothered. The meal starts rather quiet, until Sylvain asks the professor how they are accommodating to the life here in the monastery. They reply that they are going pretty fine, and asks them both how they felt the first time arriving at the academy, if they feel fully comfortable yet. Sylvain doesn't let Dimitri the time to answer.
“You know, I did just fine. Though I mush admit it was weird to have to do everything by myself, without any servants. Now I'm used to it but I'm still pretty jealous of Dimitri.”
“Jealous of me?” Dimitri repeats, unsure of having heard well. “Why would you feel such a thing?”
“You still have your loyal vassal with you, ready to fulfill all your wishes. I couldn't even bring one domestic!”
Sylvain continues to complain, though halfheartedly. He doesn't really care about having to dress on his own or having to spend some time unsupervised. It leaves him more occasions to go his own way and flirt with some cute girls with no judgmental looks. But Dimitri doesn't hear it, lost in his thoughts.
For a second he doesn't understand what his friend is talking about. He wasn't authorized to bring a servant, just like anyone else. Prince or not. But suddenly he realizes that Sylvain used the word vassal. And this cannot be right. His vassal would be Dedue, but he is not just a servant.
Dedue is so much more than that. He believes him to be his closest friend. The both of them don't know each other for as long as Sylvain, ingrid or Felix, but four years are enough. Especially after all the things they lived together. From the moment he braced himself in front of the blades that were directed at the Duscur boy, to their acceptance into the house of the Blue Lions in the Academy. So, for Sylvain, a friend of his, to talk about Dedue as merely a servant, he cannot accept. It bothers him to the point that he doesn't quite registers that the conversation continued without him.
“Dedue is not my servant.” Dimitri interrupts with no further thoughts about the rudeness of cutting one's sentence, needing clarifications to be made.
He has, as an answer, only two curious and slightly confused gazes. He clears his throat and tries to precise his thoughts.
“You said that he was my vassal ready to fulfill my wish, but that is not the truth. Dedue is not here as a servant, but as a student. And as my friend.”
“Ah, yeah, sure.” Sylvain admits, though he doesn't seem entirely convinced and it disturbs Dimitri only further. “Sorry I didn't mean to bother you. I'm only saying... that's how the rest of the Academy sees it.”
The meals ends not long after, though Dimitri didn't touch much of his food. He has difficulties to wrap his head around the fact that people still don't see Dedue as his equal. He supposes that they don't know what they went through together. They don't know about the fights to only give the duscur boy a room in Fhirdiad. The days and nights spent to teach him to read and write Fodlan language. What they see is just the prince of Faerghus and a man from Duscur. Despite all his words and efforts, he will not make prejudices against the people of Duscur disappear so quickly. Though he wished. He very much wished it.
Stepping out of the dining hall, still preoccupied by his thoughts, he sees him. Although he is at the top of the stairs in front of the pond, he has no difficulties to recognize the figure that escapes the greenhouse. Dedue is tall, taller than anyone at the academy. Not thinking about it, Dimitri's steps take him to him.
“Good afternoon Dedue” He greets him the moment he his within hearing distance.
The sound seems to freeze Dedue in his walk and he turn to bow before his prince. “Your Highness.”
Dimitri doesn't take the time to think about the formality displayed by his friend to only greet him, and instead he asks. “Are you occupied?”
“I was only going into town to collect seeds for the greenhouse.”
“Very well, I will come with you.”
“Your Highness...” Dedue begins to protest. “I cannot ask this of you.”
“You are not asking me anything. I just want to go with you.”
Dedue seems to hesitate for a moment, as if the simple fact of going into town with him was a favor he was granting him. But finally, he accepts. “... As you wish, your Highness.”
The purchases are quickly made. Dedue knows what he wants for the greenhouse. Dimitri doesn't understand what could be the difference between one seed or the other. Admittedly, he doesn't asks Dedue to explain to him, and his mind is still elsewhere. He can't stop thinking about the words of Sylvain. That everybody in the monastery, and probably in the rest of the World, think of Dedue as his vassal. But when they are standing next to each other, purchasing plants together, they can't be seen as something else as equals, right?
Right. Even though it bothers him, Dimitri manages to store it in a corner of his mind and not think about it anymore. Never mind what strangers might think. What matters the most is what he knows, and what Dedue knows. They are equals, they are friends.
That is what he is convinced of, until their walk back to the monastery. Until he can't not notice the way passersby look at them. As if they just were not allowed to be seen together. Despite the... he only now notices a slight distance between them. So the worries come back crashing in. He doesn't mind what other people might think of him. He is the future king of the holy kingdom of Faerghus. People has, and will always speculate about him. And it will never matter. But not to Dedue. Maybe the taller man is sensitive to those remarks, even though he never lets it show on his face.
“Dedue, answer me truthfully, would you?”
“Of course.”
“What do you think of the fact that so many people think of you as only my servant? Not even my equal?”
There is a silence then, and Dimitri wonders if maybe Dedue didn't hear what he said. But before he can repeat himself, he hears his voice, unfaltering as he says words so painful to hear to Dimitri. “But, your Highness, a prince and his vassal is exactly what we are.”
Until now Dimitri was convinced that words were words only. That they could not bring much harm. That people could talk as much as they wanted, but it wouldn't change anything. But as his heart clenches from Dedue's words, he understands that he was mistaken. And he finds nothing to reply. Nothing to convince Dedue that he is wrong. Because if this is really how he feels, how could he change his feelings?
How could he change his feelings? That is the thought that can't leave Dimitri's mind, even as they return to the monastery, even as the evening comes, even as he struggles to find sleep in his bedroom that night. The main problem, he thinks, is that people don't see them as equals. That Dedue doesn't see them as equals. And it would be the very first thing to try to fix. He feels himself growing tired of how people treat him in the academy. He is here as a student, not as a prince. And yet, titles follow him every where, and now it seems that they prevent him from making friends. Even Dedue, who he thought was his closest friend...
He would only have to show him, then. He has to prove to Dedue that they are, in fact, equals. He maybe can't find the words to convince him, but he always found actions to be more efficient. Even though he isn't sure how to do this. How to show, with actions, that they are on the same level? They often train together, take classes together, eat together and run errands together. Are those not activities one does with his equal? He finds himself at lost for solutions, right when he thought he found it.
Dimitri barely manages to get a few hours of sleep before he has to wake up to face the day ahead. A day he knows will be full of more thinking about how to convince Dedue that they are equals. On the way to the Blue Lion classroom, he sees Ashe coming out of his room. He thinks then that he is the only commoner in their class, with Dedue. Maybe he should seek advice from him. He feels wrong, somehow, thinking such things. As if nobles and commoner thought differently. But didn't he see Dedue and Ashe talk together on more than one accasion? He feels ashamed, not to even know who is close to someone he considered a friend not even the day before.
But he thinks, as his steps take him to the young boy, that if Ashe sees him as his equal, then he could do the same with Dedue.
“Good morning Ashe”
“O-Oh, your Highness! Good morning to you.” Ashe replies, flustered.
Dimitri understands then that he probably sees him as his prince, before he sees him as his classmate. “You can call me by my name, you know? After all, we are classmates, we fought together. I am not just your prince, to you.”
“Yes, you're right your-... You're right!”
Dimitri only looks at him, understanding slowly that maybe he was mistaken about Ashe too. He doesn't seem entirely comfortable around him. And though a part of him wishes he could change that, he does not forget his main goal. What occupies the most his thoughts. It is with Dedue he wishes to change things. “Shall we walk to the classroom together?”
“Sure your Highness.” Ashe agrees, but since he seems just a little more comfortable, Dimitri doesn't comment on the use of title.
“There is something I am curious about, and I was wondering if you could help me.”
“What is it?” The younger boy asks, seeming suddenly curious.
“Well... There is someone I wish to befriend, but... They are a commoner, and it seems like they can't see past our difference of social class. I was wondering if maybe... you knew how I could reach out to them, as equals.”
“I see...” Ashe mutters, now thoughtful. And for a moment, Dimitri wonders if he dosn't read too much into it. He also hopes that it is not a rude thing to ask. But the young boy seems to only think about the problem. “All I know is that, I always feel closer to someone when we share things I truly care about, or if it's something they really like.”
“Things they really like...” Dimitri thinks aloud. He wonders then what Dedue really likes. He feels terrible, for not being sure, after not even knowing if Dedue and Ashe were friends. He supposes he needs to open more, and try to learn about him.
“Yeah, like their hobbies!” Ashe explains further.
“What about you? What are your hobbies?” Dimitri asks, felling curious about his classmate now that he understands that he does not know much about people he liked to call his friends. He listens to Ashe talk excitedly about his love for fishing, that he got from his adoptive father, the rest of the walk.
Later that day, after classes, Dimitri stays a little bit longer in the classroom, waiting for Dedue to be able to talk to him. As students start to leave, he notices that he is doing just the same, as always. Dedue always waits for him at the end of classes and so, he knows that in no time he would be walking to him to ask him the same question.
“Your Highness. May I know if you are going to do anything in particular?”
“I was just thinking of training a little bit.”
“You won't be needing my assistance then?”
“I don't think so...” Dimitri replies, though his curiosity is picked by the questions. “Did you plan anything?”
“I was only thinking of going to the greenhouse to plant the seeds we bought yesterday. But if you need anything...”
Suddenly Dimitri gets an idea. Yes, gardening. It is something Dedue spends a lot of time doing, is it not?
“Do you mind if I join you?”
The demand seems to take the taller boy by surprise, and he struggles for a moment, before deciding. “Of course not.”
They walk to the greenhouse house in silence, like most of their walks. But when they arrive, and Dedue stops before a patch of empty ground to start to tend to his task, Dimitri feels rather useless. He can only watch as the taller boy takes care of the seeds, uses tools he doesn't know and plants them into the ground. He can only notice, with his gaze directed at him, how gentle he looks, tending to his task. How kind his eyes seem, how soft his hands look, covered in black soil. He doesn't think he has ever seen Dedue look so peaceful. He's only ever seen him worried, taking care of him, or extremely concentrated during the professor's classes or during a battle. This is a sight he has never seen, and he looks only at his face now, not even at the precise and delicate movements of his hands.
“Was there something in particular that you wanted to do here, your Highness?”
Dimitri is pulled out of his train of thoughts by his voice. He only now registers that he was staring, embarrassed. He hopes his gaze didn't make Dedue uncomfortable, or feel as if he was being judged. He takes a step forward, to be closer from the duscur boy. “I was just... curious. Gardening is something you seem to like. I was wondering if you could show me the basics?”
Dedue raises his eyes to him, as if he said something wrong. As if a prince was not authorized to dirty his hand a little bit. A funny thought, considering he never stopped to cover them with the blood of his enemies. But in the green gaze staring directly into him, he sees nothing bad. Just... surprise. “I can try to show you. But I am not sure to be a good teacher.”
“This is fine.” Dimitri assures him.
Dedue finally accepts his answer, and move slightly aside to leave some room for his prince. Dimitri crouches down next to him, and as they look closely at the same plant, he notices the closeness of their body. Their shoulders are pressed together, to be able to observe the same flowers. And parts of their arms are touching. It feels a little odd, to be close to someone when not in a moment of training. But he supposes it is a training, of sorts. He is training to take care of plants. Though training never made him feel like he feels right now. He tries to keep his focus on what Dedue tries to explain to him, but he feels hot. It is natural to be hot, in a greenhouse. The temperature is kept high, for the plants. But he didn't think he'd feel hotter kneeling down than standing up. He didn't think that he would feel this particular pull in his heart, either. As if it was somehow lighter. Deprived of all the things weighing him down.
“One of the most important thing to do to make sure the plants grow well is to take care of the weeds.”
Dedue continues to explain to him, his eyes now fixated on his task. Between two plants he takes hold of green leaves and just pulls them out. They come off quite easily, but Dimitri doubt that with his strength, Dedue would have any difficulties with any weeds. As resilient as they may be. He listens to him explain how it is important to take them off before they take too much room on the flowers and prevent them from getting all the nutriments they need. Dimitri realizes that he never heard Dedue talk for so long without interruption. He supposes then that he succeeded in finding his hobby. He watches him carefully make sure that the plants are not infested by any diseases or in need of particular care, before moving on.
“Would you like to try, your Highness?”
Dedue asks him, handing him a pair of gardening gloves. Dimitri accepts and puts them on, still unsure of what he is supposed to do. He was nervous about receiving lessons on gardening, because he knows about his strength. How he can't control it. He was afraid of ruining the delicate works of Dedue. But if all he has to do is rip off some weeds, he thinks he can do it. Dedue indicates him which parts belong to the mint plants he is taking care of right now, and which belong to the parasites. He takes care of the task at hands, careful to not destroy any good plants.
“Oh... I'm terribly sorry, your Highness.”
Dimitri stops in his tracks, turning back to the duscur boy next to him. He looks deeply bothered as he is looking at him, and Dimitri fear he's done something wrong. “What are you apologizing for?”
“This task is not fitting for a prince...”
“Dedue...” Dimitri lets himself sigh before the discomfort of the other boy. “I thought we were over this. Furthermore, isn't I who asked you to show me?”
“To show you, yes. But to do it... Your clothes are stained.” He points out, but before Dimitri can tell him that it doesn't matter, he continues. “I will take care of it. I will come to collect your dirty clothes after diner.”
“That is out of question.” Dimitri replies. “Dedue, you are not my servant. I will not let you take care of such low tasks in my place. I am perfectly capable of doing it myself.”
“But your Highness-”
“If you are going to say that taking care of me is your duty, I don't want to hear it.”
Dimitri interrupts him, and Dedue only lowers his gaze, in proof that he read his intentions perfectly. He sighs, and turns back to his task with no other words. But now, it seems that the mindless task of pulling out weeds from the ground does not calm him. He feels... frustrated. Maybe he thought that sharing this moment with Dedue would be enough to show him that he is lacking in knowledge, that Dedue surpasses him in many things, and can teach him. Maybe he thought it would be enough to show him that they are equals. But as he can see right now, it doesn't seem to work that way. Doing his laundry for him... Just the thought...
He lets his emotions take the better of him, and pull at a plant he didn't check. The entire mint plant come off in his hands, and he realizes only too late what he has done. He ruined it. He destroyed the perfectly fine plant. He abruptly stands up, afraid of what he's done.
“I killed it.”
“Your Highness...”
“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”
Dedue tries to reach out to him, but he doesn't let him. He takes a step back. He should have known, that with his hands, he could not take care of anything. That he would just destroy it. Ruin every thing he touches.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, your Highness.”
“But I... I ruined it. I ruined your work.”
“This is fine. Let me see.” Dedue says peacefully, and somehow, the words reach him.
Dimitri doesn't understand how this could be fine, but he lets him reach for the plant still grasped in his hands. Somewhere deep in his head, a part of his mind acknowledges the fact that Dedue is holding his hands, waiting for him to open them. He finally lets it go, fingers sliding against his palm as they recover the mint, with a featherlight touch. So light that he should almost not feel it, and yet it feel so strong, weighting on his skin even after Dedue breaks the contact to look at the plant. He looks at it for a moment before nodding calmly.
“I can fix it. You didn't tear it, the whole root came out. I can re-plant it.” He explains.
Even though Dimitri can believe it, even though he can believe that Dedue can take care of it, with his tender hands and soft attention, there is still something bothering him. “I can't let you fix the things I have broken.” He articulates, eyes looking at nothing.
“Allow me to try.”
Dimitri thinks there is something in his voice, when he says those words. Trying to mend the broken things. Dedue probably could. He nods slowly, watching him grab the tools necessary to take care of his foolishness. But he can't. He supposes gardening really isn't for him. Taking care of fragile things is not for something he is capable of. So after a few seconds spent watching the other boy dig the soil to fix his mistake, he turns back and walks away.
Thinking back on it, he doesn't even understand why he is so worked up about a simple plant he pulled off. It's just a plant. It's only a plant, he keeps on telling himself. But maybe it is not just a plant. It's also all the things around. Before and after. The realization that Dedue can't think of them as more than a prince and his vassal, all the hurtful word directed at him for his duscur origins, his own incapability to just... connect with him, when he believes he is the person the closest to him. It's all so... It creates an unease inside of him, that he can't ignore for very long, no matter what energy he puts into training, no matter how many night he passes trying to sleep it off.
So when he hears noise coming from the kitchen while crossing the gardens, and he remembers it is Dedue's turn in kitchen duties, he decides to join him. He remembers his classmates congratulating Dedue for his cooking, on many occasions. Maybe it is another of his hobbies, he hopes. Even though he doesn't think he is better at cooking than gardening, at least he doesn't think he can kill anything because he can't cook well enough.
When he steps into the kitchens and sees the young man he was looking for, busying himself above the ovens, he stops. His massive body moves easily, despite the fact it was not conceived for a man of his height. He moves with energy, even though Dimitri sees no tension in his shoulders. He seems relaxed, cooking, and for a moment he is afraid to interrupt, and considers leaving him alone. But he doesn't leave soon enough. Green eyes see him.
“Your Highness...”
“Ha Dedue... I was wondering if... Do you mind if I join you?” He asks, because he's here anyways. But he promises himself that if the other young man shows any sign of doubt, he will not bother him.
But Dedue doesn't show any hesitation this time. “Of course not.”
Dimitri steps further into the kitchens, going to stop in front of the counter where Dedue is preparing the meat that was hunted this morning. He looks at him, meeting his gaze, until his focus turns back to the task at hands. Dimitri thinks then, that maybe the time they spent together in the greenhouse wasn't just for the slaughter of a poor mint plant. Maybe Dedue is opening to him. He is accepting his help more easily, at least.
“Are you feeling well, your Highness?”
Ah, he understands then. He accepted his presence only to asks him about his health. He just observes the hands griping the knife and cutting so swiftly the meat. Red meat. He can't determine by the smell what kind. “Why do you ask?”
“I don't mean to overstep...” Dedue tries to explain, as if he had a reason to apologize for worrying about his prince. “You left in a hurry, last time, at the greenhouse. I... I was afraid I did something wrong.”
Dimitri tears his eyes away from his hands at work to look at his face. He seems fully concentrated, but if he tries to read a little more his expression, there is worry underlying. So he thought it was his fault.
“Dedue... You did nothing wrong. If anyone did, it is I who-”
“I'm sorry to interrupt.” Dedue says, and Dimitri stops to let him talk. But instead he puts the knife down and takes the meat he just cut to the pots cooking on the fire, to put it in what is already boiling inside. Seeing that his prince is awaiting the rest of his sentence, he shakes his head with a slight smile. “Nothing. I just did not want to hear you talk down on yourself.”
Dimitri can't stop the smile to tug at his lips, before the comportment of his friend. Though... He is still unsure if he can call him this way. At least he is glad to see that he allows himself to cut him when he thinks he's going too far. That is a good thing. That is what equals do.
He watches again, as Dedue stirs the meat slowly cooking, the smile small enough to go unnoticed by someone who would not be looking stays on his lips, and Dimitri's does the same in response. Until he notices that he is staring, once again. He doesn't know why. He can just look at this peaceful look on Dedue's face without getting tired of it. But something in him tells him that it is... somewhat inappropriate to stare in such ways.
“But I came to help, and all I do is only look at you do all the work.” He half apologizes, even though he wouldn't know what to do to help.
“It's alright. But if your really wish to do something, you can add the spices that I selected. Add as much as you want to fit your tastes.”
Dimitri is happy to oblige, as Dedue goes off to check if the quantities will be enough for the day, or if he has to cook some more. Dimitri detects the spices, a big amount of it, in the corner of a table. He takes them and return in front of the stirring pot, wondering if Dedue really wanted to put them all inside. He knows his cooking is often deemed to be spicy, even though himself can quite taste it. He couldn't measure the quantities as Dedue asked him, not with his taste. But he supposes the quantity that Dedue had planned will do just perfectly. He puts them all in, and uses the spoon to mix it all inside. The mixture takes a nice orange-ish color.
“Is every thing ready?” The head chef asks, a few students and knights following her.
Dedue comes back by the counter and nods, as the workers come in and start serving the meal to the students. Dimitri watches the different people go off with their plates full, and a part of him feels... somewhat jealous of them. They are capable of tasting the food that Dedue looked so happy to cook.
“Oh... It smells... Strong.” He hears Dedue's voice next to him, and it takes him just a moment to understand that the taller boy is commenting on the smell coming from the pot in front of him. Frowning, he take the spoon still inside and brings it to his lips to sip a little bit of the sauce. His expression immediately turns into one of pain. And he has to brace himself not to spit every thing but he can't hold back his coughing.
Understanding comes down on Dimitri, as he only now realizes what he's done. He should have known that this pile of spice was big. To big for only one dish. What has he done again? Ruining Dedue's work, again? He can't even look up now, to see the faces of the students eating what he's done. “Oh, no... Dedue I'm so... sorry.”
“No it is-” He cough more, his face red. He has his hand curled in a fist in front of his mouth and his eyes seem watery when Dimitri can finally look up to him. If the Duscur man can't bare the spices, he can't imagine for the other students and knights. He wasted Dedue's efforts to cook a good meal during the entire morning. And the resources. “-it is alright.”
Dedue tries to reassure him, but at the same time he can hear various people coughing and complaining and even some of then screaming in the dining hall. “How can you say such a thing? I rendered your delicious dish inedible.”
“It is fine, your Highness. I will eat it.”
Dimitri looks back at him, something hopeful inside of him at those words. As if... As if Dedue had all the solutions for his mistakes. But he stays unconvinced when he sees his face still reddened.
Suddenly the complains become a bit more loud in the dining hall, as well as the coughing fits, and he starts to fear a riot. “We definitely should not stay here.” He says.
“I think not.” Dedue agrees.
Before he can really think about it, Dimitri takes Dedue's hand and runs out of the kitchens and away from the dining hall. He stops only when he thinks no one will follow them, and takes back his breath. Before he feels his chest shake under the weight of a laugh. He can't actually believe it. He just ran away with Dedue as if they had done something wrong. He supposes he did. But... he doesn't feel entirely guilty. He feels...
He looks back up to Dedue, then. And a smile is here, plastered on his face. A big smile that lasts longer than he's seen before on his lips. He finds himself captivated by the sight, but when Dedue catches his staring, he hides it away by letting another fit of laughter fill him. “What are you smiling at?”
“You are laughing.” Dedue only states, as if it would explain the joy in his smile.
Somehow, maybe, Dimitri thinks he can understand. “Yes. Yes I am.”
Dedue is staring too. Dimitri knows it. He's staring at him laughing but he doesn't seem embarrassed to do so. Not like him who always feels the need to hide it. The taller young man just looks at him, with this smile, as if it didn't matter. But the prince feels his face grow hotter under the observation. Or maybe it is only the haste run he just had.
“You do not feel bad for this, then.” Dedue asks, and Dimitri looks at him, his laughter calming down. He understands the question, that is not the problem. It's the answer he's less certain about. “There is something I would like to show you.”
Dedue doesn't let him think too much about all of it. About how Dedue cares about his guilt, how to ease it. About how Dimitri doesn't feel so guilty anymore, if Dedue runs with him, if he takes him back into the greenhouse.
Only when they are both standing in front of the plants, Dedue lets go of his hand. Only then Dimitri registers that they had been holding hands ever since he'd taken Dedue's to run away. But he doesn't let his heart beats faster. He kneels down, next to his friend, to look at what he wanted to show him. He understands when he sees the soil turned around, and the plant growing back here.
“It is doing perfectly, your Highness. You don't have to worry about it any longer.”
“Thank you...” Dimitri says, his voice a little weak, maybe from the running, maybe from the laughter, maybe from all the rest.
Dedue turns back to him, but his eyes don't quite meet his. They get lost at the side of his head. And soon, his gaze is replaced by his hand. Dimitri wondered many times how his hands could feel. If they were more powerful from handling his axe, or as soft as they look when he takes care of plants. Touching lightly his golden hair, he distantly notes that they are as soft as he could hope. Not thinking about the fact that he hoped his hands to be soft on him. But it's too late, now. He is thinking about it. And he feels his face getting hotter. In response, he sees Dedue's face turn a dim shade of red, too. But he can't be sure, since he was still red from the spices.
It only lasts a second. A second that feels like an eternity. A second during which Dimitri thinks his chest might burst open. But then, Dedue brings his hand back in front of him. On his thick and calloused fingers is a ladybug.
“She was in your hair...” He explains, sheepishly.
But it only makes Dimitri blush harder. The ladybug takes off, flying away in one of the closest flowers. They both follow the movement with their eyes, unable to look at the other. Dimitri can not explain why he would be blushing from the attention, from Dedue's hand in his hair. But thankfully, no one asks. He settle his gaze on the mints plants, spreading off their strong scents. He wonders if they will be able to make some tee out the plant he's hurt. Even though he would not be able to taste it. He thinks it would be nice, to be able to drink it in Dedue's company.
“Ah-... She's back...”
Dedue brings back his attention, but this time it's not on his hair. Their eyes meet, and none of them can look away. “I suppose she must think I am a flower.”
Those words split Dedue face in two, as a laugh escapes his lips. He laughs, but it's not a mocking laugh, as if what Dimitri just said was preposterous. He laughs from amusement, and happiness. His eyes, softly set on his prince's, with a feeling of devotion and adoration, say that maybe he thinks the same. Dimitri is struck by the realization that he never wants this expression to falter from his face.
And then, another realization comes to him, more slowly. Maybe he doesn't want them to be only as equals.