Chapter Text
-”Have you heard? The castle of Gautier has been seen!” someone shouts between the jabs at the melted iron, voices and gasps mingling together and drowning in the heat.
-”We need to watch out-- or else he will have our hearts!”
-”Oh, silly! He only goes for beautiful people!” another one laughs while her friend gasp in faked dismay.
Dimitri stopped listening- he was hardly in danger then. He is a scarred beast if anything, and haunted by a downright monstrous strength. Instead for the continued chatter of their patrons, as well as one employee, his focus returned to the lance-head he’d been commissioned- or rather been asked to make by the owner of this humble ironwork. Another forged steel lance, no doubt for one of the wealthier knights. War is coming, and his mind echoes an “again” despite not having lived to see any other war than the one that might be upon them. If only Archbishop Rhea could see reason--
-”Dimitri!” a shrill voice yells and his grip tightens too fast-- and now there’s a dent in the steel, again .
-”Yes, Annette?” he turns after putting down both hammer and lance, not daring the risk of accidentally swinging it too close, drawing innocent blood, dripping down--
An uncomfortable sensation grows in his mouth.
-”It’s getting late, you ought to get at least some sleep!” Mercedes chimes in and hands him a small basket, “Remember to please eat something, you’re getting skinny. ” there’s a motherly tone that almost sends him bursting into tears, without phantoming why.
-”Of course.” he smiles tenderly still, lips tightly pressed shut.
With that, they make their leave for the night, stopping by the doorway to tell him goodnight before leaving with the setting sun. Dimitri finds himself sitting down on his stool again, munching on the fresh bread they brought this time. His sense of taste is hardly functional at this point, it’s only been regressing as of late. Nights have been mercilessly cut shorter too, nightmares of death, blood, and massacres for many moons now. There are faces, faces he knows yet cannot recall, names biting on the tip of his tongue. They call out to him, for vengeance, for blood, no matter whose, blood blood blood---
Blood, ah, he’s bleeding. Dimitri fumbles with a tissue to wipe off the blood from his hand, only now realizing he bit his tongue, blood dripping down his chin, only adding to the iron scent of the building.
-”I truly ought to get some sleep, huh.” Dimitri sighs and kills the fires before heading out, taking a look at the darkening sky as he steps out. He lives just one stair up, courtesy of the owner, Jeralt Eisner. He lives with his son, Byleth, just a stonecast away.
They used to be mercenaries, but after sir Jeralt suffered a fatal injury the two decided to remain in Remire village. This once small village has within the last years blossomed into a small town. Byleth’s twin sister, Beleth, still travels around as a mercenary, returning here every few moons. Those two... are a tad difficult to deal with, at first. They are they very opposite of the saying “carrying your heart on your sleeve” -- those two were at times so devoid of emotion that one could believe they were heartless. Though that couldn’t be further from the truth, Byleth and Beleth both care deeply and truly, they simply do not show it as easily as others. Byleth once said that making expressions always felt unnatural to him, like twisting his entire face merely to smile. Regardless, Dimitri feels nothing short of blessed to have met them, and to be shown such unconditional kindness despite not being able to repay them. They are an odd trio, the Eisners, but so incredibly kind.
Dimitri cannot recall his own kin, if he ever had any at all, any memory of his time before arriving here completely dark. Gone, like pages mercilessly torn out of a book.
All he had was sheath to a dagger, with his name engraved.
-”Perhaps I should pay Dedue a visit soon?” he hums into the night air, picking up the heavy sign outside the shop with ease before carrying it back inside. Dedue found him unconscious drifting down a nearby river, completely covered in wounds and blood. If it was his own or another’s-- he never knew. Whatever it was that caused him to fall into the water in the first place is most likely what mangled his body so badly and took his right eye. The scars has healed nicely now- much thanks to Dedue’s gentle care and Mercedes healing, and while he may not be able to see anything with it now, it truly doesn’t affect his daily life all that much.
-”My, what a sad little shop.” an unfamiliar voice speaks. Dimitri turn to the sound, and is greeted by a woman dressed in a sangria red dress, feather boa hanging off her shoulders, revealing a choker-type of necklace adorned with gold and blue gems. She pushes pale hair off her shoulder with an elegant gesture while eyeing him down.
-”Uh,” was she lost? Dimitri wasn’t sure but didn’t want to be rude, “We just closed.”
She tilts her head to the side, a smug grin slowly growing on her face, revealing wrinkles he did not see before.
-”You truly don’t know who I am, do you?”
-”Oh- Pardon me, have we met?” hopes grows in his chest, despite his suspicion, “I have lost my memories- could you tell me who I am?” or rather, he thinks, who he was .
-”Oh, I will tell you...” she snickers, a sudden darkness swirling around her hand, “You are cursed .” the darkness swirls around his neck like a snare, forcing all breath out of him as he staggers back into the door, struggling to break free.
-”Each time your heart darkens, each time your mind is overcome with evil... you will turn into a beast, a beast that will kill everything in its way.” she sneers and grabs his jaw, staring into his remaining eye- before briskly letting go and disappearing into the night.
Dimitri breathes heavily into the night, the chill air clawing at his lungs.
Staggering back inside and locking the door, twice, to be sure, he heaves himself off to the bathroom. There’s dark lines etched into his neck, malicious bruises painting his pale skin.
One part of him begs of it not to scar-- he has enough-- enough!
And as all his adrenaline falls and his breath falters with the terror-- so does the rest of him.
-”Oi, kid, are you alright?” a familiar, warm, but scruffy voice asks, gently shaking his shoulder. “By the Goddess, you fainted, didn’t you?” he sighs, yet remains far more concerned than anything.
-”I’m so sorry!” Dimitri rises up too fast and ends up swaying where he stands, Jeralt taking hold of him to make sure he didn’t fall.
-”It’s alright. You’re overworked, take today off. Breakfast is ready in the kitchen, go get something and then march off to bed.” Jeralt shakes his head but Dimitri can’t help but slip a sigh of defeat-- seems his nightmares got the best of him yet again.
-”When you’re feeling better, I have a favor to ask.”
It’s just past noon by the time Dimitri finally awakens again, returning to the ironwork to find sir Jeralt sitting with Byleth, seemingly discussing another commission.
-”Oh,” Jeralt looks up when he spots him in the corner of his eye, “You’re back up.”
-”Did you rest well?” Byleth asks, a hint of concern evident in his voice.
-”I did, thank you.”
-”Good, good.” Jeralt smiles and collects his papers, “Grab some lunch and I’ll tell you about the favor I mentioned.” he pats Byleth’s back and sends him off to eat as well, taking over the store for the time being. People come and go all day, and despite there being many ironworkers and such across Remire nowadays, most seem to be drawn to this particular one. Nearly half of sir Jeralt’s old mercenary band stayed in Remire to help- the rest with along with Beleth.
-”Dad told me you fainted?” Byleth asks- and Dimitri only knows it’s a question from his tone alone, a learned skill at this point.
-”I-- Yes. I did.” he sighs, “Appears I had another nightmare. They’ve come altmore frequent as of late...” he admits, shame clinging to his shoulders.
-”I see.” is all Byleth replies, then begins rummaging through his pockets until he eventually takes out a small bag and hands it over to Dimitri. “Calming herbs. Smell them whenever you begin to feel uneasy and they’ll help.” he gives a small smile, and Dimitri gladly takes them.
-”You have my deepest gratitude.” he places the tiny sachet into his inner pocket, close to his heart.
Odd asit was, at times Byleth would reach and rummage through his pockets and gift him exactly what he needed-- and sometimes items he lost, as well as some occasional white feather. Dimitri wasn’t certain as to why, but found himself rather fond of those feathers too.
Eating is more of a chore than anything pleasurable, seeing as his last sense of taste seems to have abandoned him now. Dishes he once loved tasted nothing, the mere texture of some meals now downright disgusting. Even so, his love for cheese remained. Dimitri almost wanted to laugh-- how cheesy wasn’t that?
Ignoring his tasteless meal, Dimitri allowed his gaze to wonder over to Byleth. Jeralt has mentioned on many occasions that he raised them both himself, and while the mercenary life was anything but ideal for children like them, they still managed. Sir Jeralt rarely spoke of his late wife, and Dimitri finds himself wondering what happened to her. From the lone portrait he kept of her, from the time she still carried her twins within her, she seemed at very good health. Of course that is difficult to tell from a portrait alone, even so, he wondered if perhaps her health declined more and more until birth?
From what he recalls, she was a nun at the Garreg Mach Monastery, the largest church in all of Fódlan. It’s not terribly far from here, and Alois has numerous times tried to get Jeralt to tag along, to which he has promptly refused. Sir Jeralt never spoke of his time there, but Aois sure did, telling all kinds of grand tales of the former captain’s heroics as a knight. What it was that made him leave all that behind, to rather live life as a traveling mercenary, Dimitri can all but wonder.
-”Have you finished?” Byleth asks, and Dimitri nods while Byleth takes his plate off the table to the sink. Dimitri has never been good with... fragile things. It was a wonder they hadn’t replaced his plate with forged metal.
Letting the mystery of sir Jeralt and his wife be, they both head back.
Once Jeralt spotted them returning, he waved him over while putting away his tools.
-”Here, return this to Alois before he leaves town. I swear, that man keeps leaving things here on purpose .” Jeralt sighs but hands Dimitri the worn book nonetheless.
-”Couldn’t it be that he merely wants to see you more? You do work way more than your fair share, sir.”
-”Ah, I’ll rust if I just sit and watch.” he laughs and shoos Dimitri towards the door, “Tell him that if he wants to see us, he has to come here. I won’t say no to a free dinner.” and with that, he sets Dimitri off to town.
Alois, like most knights on their days off, spent their time near the town plaza, chatting, eating and drinking the days away until their next mission.
It doesn’t go unnoticed that the impending threat of war has worn down their spirits greatly-- but that was nothing a small festival couldn’t change. The heat of summer is treating him kindly, just this once, as the Midsummer festival begins once again. Frankly, it’s more of a flower-filled dance party than anything. Rows and rows of colorful bouquets, and flowerful crowns on nearly every head, and fragrances he couldn’t dream to name. People dance and sing all over the place, sharing their blessings and wishes for a bountiful year and peaceful winter to come.
-”It’s too crowded...” Dimitri mumbles for himself, not in the mood of pushing himself through this flood of people in front of him, completely blocking off the main road along with any easy way there. He eyes the alley next to him, blissfully empty, and takes a chance.
Perhaps the Goddess truly hates him?
-”And where are you going?” a guard, broad and clearly intoxicated, stands in his way.
-”To the plaza.” Dimitri answers and clearly as he can, uneasiness growing rapidly through his chest.
-”All alone?” another one coos, and comes just a bit too close, “Do allow us to escort you.”
-”I- I’m perfectly fine on my own.”
-”Aw, don’t be like that!” he sligns an arm around his shoulder and Dimitri has to stop himself from flinching at the unwelcomed touch.
-”Hey now, he clearly doesn’t want anything to do with either of you.” a third voice chimes in, and Dimitri downright begs to the Goddess to have some mercy on him.
-”This has nothing to do with you.” the first guard scoffs, and eyes the ginger man down.
-”True. But you have duties and I don’t.” he chuckles and waves his hand back and forth, the two guards suddenly straightening up and briskly walking away, leaving Dimitri completely dumbfounded.
Dimitri looks back at the man who, he hopes , helped him. About two inches taller, red hair lined with gray streaks, a warm smile- that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
-”To the plaza, was it?” he bows, red jacket draped low off his shoulder, revealing more of his already exposed chest, “I’ll escort you there.”
-”I’m fine on my own.” he sighs, back to square one it seems.
-”Hang onto me, I’m being followed.” he doesn’t explain any further, gently taking Dimitri by his arm and moving them both forward. Dimitri only managed a quick glance over his shoulder, and men- creatures plucked from nightmares follow.
-”What are those?” Dimitri asks, walking faster and faster, this man doing the same.
-”Shadows. Dunno who sent them this time.” he winks, “Sorry to drag you into my mess my fair prince, I’ll escort you to safety.”
-”I’m not a prince?” Dimitri questions-- and he’s hardly fair when it comes to his face, scarred and plain- but he doesn’t get to argue further as he’s suddenly hoisted into the air.
-”Oh sweet Sothis.”
-”Don’t worry, just stretch your legs and walk.” he laughs and beings to walk on thin air, Dimitri doing the same despite much rather falling flat down, back to solid ground.
-”See? You’re a natural!” he flashes the most wonderful smile he has ever seen.
-”T-thank you.” Dimitri finds himself breathless, wondering who in the world this man is.
Soon enough they land on a tavern’s balcony, just next to the knight’s usual place.
-”Take care now, and don’t let any shadows follow you, your highness.”
-”I will, thank you.” he rests his hand in his just a little longer, the man holding his hand so tenderly, with a smile so genuinely breathtaking that Dimitri wasn’t sure what to do.
-”I shall be on my way.” he smiles a final time and lets go, before jumping down into the crowd. Dimitri leans over the railing, but fails to see him anywhere.
Alois is in the crowd though, laughing away with his comrades, so Dimitri hurries down.
-”You have my thanks boy!” Alois laughs and stuffs the poor book into his pocket, “Seems I couldn’t get the old man to book it out here!"
-”Heh, sir Jeralt suspects you’re doing this on purpose.” Dimitri only barely managed to hold back his laughter, “He told me to say that if you want to see him, then you simply have to visit. Oh, and that he won’t say no to a free dinner.”
-”Ahaha, that’s the captain for you!” Alois laughs again, despite the many times Jeralt has told him to drop the title, he keeps it, perhaps more of a memoir of a time long ago than anything. “Thank you for coming all this way to return my book, Dimitri. Enjoy the festival.” Alois pats his back before returning to his previous endeavors.
However, this day had been far too much already, and a festival on top of it was not in his plans, thus Dimitri makes his quick escape back to the ironwork, his mind racing along his legs, wondering who that man that saved him today truly was. Ah, he never asked for his name, neither did he give him his, how improper of him. ‘ Will I see him again? ’ he wonders, and vows to properly introduce himself if given the chance, and to give his thanks. He can’t claim to be friends with everyone, but he knows most faces here in Remire, and his stranger was not one of them.
-”Could he be...?” Dimitri wonders and slows in his tracks- could he be the mage of the Gautier castle? ‘ No .’ he thinks for himself, now striding back in full force, ‘ I still have my heart. ’ he reasons, recalling the many times he praised his beauty, perhaps with empty flatter, he still did. One must wonder if he truly does eat people's hearts, the mage, and sometimes named the beast , of Gautier.