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The war in Fodlan was coming to a head and the Kingdom army at Garreg Mach Monastery was preparing for a decisive confrontation at Enbarr. There was a week before their march. The army used the time to make final preparations in both military and personal affairs.
The former Blue Lions and their Professor had a meeting on what would happen after the war. It was a matter-of-fact discussion — no hopes were raised nor were more dire possibilities explored — but a necessary one, Gilbert had explained at the beginning, to lay out the transition of power among the Kingdom nobles. There would be nothing unexpected: Dimitri would assume the leadership of his house and, of course, the country itself; Felix would lead House Fraldarius as its Duke; House Gautier would need to reimbursed and credited for its help in the war; and so on.
The meeting was held on a late Friday afternoon, and Dimitri stayed behind in war council room to complete the necessary paperwork, long after the others dismissed for supper. For once, no mountain of files waited in his room, awaiting his signature. The church was attending to non-war related issues this weekend. He wanted to finish this particular stack before relaxing for the rest of the night.
When Dimitri finally rose from his seat, the sun sat on the horizon. He hadn’t bothered to light the candles in the room and took the waning light as a call to leave. He had just finished gathering his papers when a faint glimmer caught his eye. It came from a small, circular object in the center of their desks.
It must have rolled to the middle of the room, Dimitri thought as he made his way over. He picked up the item, minding his grip, given his tendency to bend even iron swords.
It was a silver ring, with violet gems in a flowery motif and delicate engravings on its side. Its metal was smooth and polished, as if it hadn’t been worn for very long or at all. Dimitri stared at the piece of jewelry in his palm for a moment. He wasn’t one to take note of people’s personal effects but this was unfamiliar to him. The design was quite feminine. Dimitri figured it belonged to a woman, though his expertise in jewelry left much to be desired. It must also belong to someone from the Blue Lions House — it was only he and his fellow countrymen here. The monastery caretakers would have found it before today.
To whom do you belong, little ring? Dimitri mused, viewing it in the fading light. His heart felt lighter than it did in years, despite the on-going war. He attributed it to the recent talk of prosperity and the prospect of a brighter future. In this state of elation — and with the lack of looming reports or missions on his plate for the weekend — Dimitri took it upon himself to find the ring’s proper owner.
—
Dimitri first asked Ingrid, his dear childhood friend.
He did not seek her specifically but the thought came to him as he arrived at the training grounds for their morning spar. Ingrid had paid little mind to feminine matters in their teenage years, but he has at least noticed that she was wearing a little more makeup nowadays. Perhaps she had taken up the habit of wearing rings?
Or was it a gift? Dimitri had not yet considered the fact that it might be from a lover; the prospect of someone missing a token of love made his mission even more critical. Though to his knowledge, Ingrid was not courting anyone. At least, not openly.
After a few friendly bouts, the two took a break for water and stretches in a corner.
“Say, Ingrid,” Dimitri started. “Have you lost a ring by any chance?”
The blond woman raised an eyebrow. “Um, no, Your Highness. Why do you ask?”
“I found a lost ring yesterday and I was hoping to find its owner,” Dimitri pulled the said object from a pocket. He took to keeping the ring on his person at all times, in case he unexpectedly heard of someone missing something precious.
Ingrid took the band and inspected it with a careful eye.
“I see. It is quite pretty, this ring,” she remarked as she returned it to Dimitri. “I believe Mercedes has a ring? You could ask her if it is hers.”
At least he got a lead. “Thank you. I’ll try to find her later today.”
Dimitri noticed that Ingrid had a wistful look as he pocketed the ring once more.
“I am quite flattered you thought to ask me though, Your Highness. I am not really one for jewelry.” His friend turned her gaze to the ground. “I haven’t worn a ring since...well, since Glenn.”
—
“Here you go, Your Highness!” Mercedes announced, setting a plate of cookies in front of Dimitri and Ashe. They were in the gazebo, taking in the early afternoon warmth. “Ashe and I tried a new recipe so I hope you enjoy them.”
“They look appetizing, my friends, thank you,” Dimitri replied. He set to pouring tea in their cups and took a cookie for himself. He arrived at the food hall a little too late for a full helping of lunch and was thankful to catch Mercedes and Ashe setting up for tea outside.
“I’m glad you stopped by. It has been far too long since we’ve all shared tea together,” she chirped. “I hope this means you have some time to relax this weekend. You’ve been working so hard for the last few weeks.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Ashe helped himself to some cookies as well. “You should take a break every now and then.”
Dimitri took a bite of his cookie, and though he couldn’t taste it, he felt its pleasant texture and buttery feel. “Mmm!” He exclaimed, eliciting a smile from Mercedes. “Yes, I think I should have some down time for the next day or two.”
“What are you going to do with your free time?” Ashe asked.
“More of the usual: I’ll train and see if there are any small errands the church needs help with, and—oh!” Dimitri recalled his personal task, and reached into his pocket. “Actually, I’m on a small mission already.”
“A mission?” Mercedes repeated. “Are you departing anytime soon?”
“Not that kind of mission,” Dimitri pulled out the silver ring and held it out to her. “I found this lost ring on the ground. I am not sure who it belongs to.”
She took it in her hands. “Oh, how beautiful!” Mercedes exclaimed as Ashe admired the piece of jewelry from his seat, eyes wide in awe.
Dimitri’s heart fell. Her surprise likely meant that she was not the rightful owner; nor was Ashe, given his silence. Mercedes examined it closely, similar to what Ingrid did earlier, and she even tried it own her own fingers. It was a little too large for her slim digits.
“Ah, I would be so lucky to have this ring,” Mercedes sighed as she handed it back to Dimitri. “It has a very ornate design, unlike mine.” She pulled out a necklace from under her collar and showed Dimitri the small band it held.
“I only have this signet ring, which has my old family’s symbol on it.” Mercedes tucked her piece away. “Oh, but you know what I just remembered? I believe the School of Sorcery gave out enchanted rings to a few students each year. I was never good enough to be at the top of the rolls, but I know Annie was the number one student in our class. Why don’t you ask her about it?”
Ashe nodded in agreement. Another lead. “I think I will, Mercedes, thank you.”
—
Dimitri was not exactly sure what Annette did in her free time. He regretted not spending more time with her as he searched the monastery. He had walked around the main lap of the monastery once and was about to give up when he passed by the greenhouse for the second time. There was a faint tune coming from the building.
Intrigued, he walked through the open doors and found the red-haired woman spraying water all over the plants. She was still singing, until his boots alerted her to his presence.
“Ahh!” Annette shot up from her task. “Felix! What did I say about sneaking up on me?”
“Peace, Annette,” Dimitri could not help but smile. “It is only me.”
She turned around and dropped her watering can, which rolled toward him. “Your Highness! I’m so sorry!”
Dimitri reached down to pick it up. He held it out to her as the mage scrambled to him.
“I was just finishing up here,” Annette set the watering can away. “Felix sometimes sneaks in here to watch when I have gardening duty but I didn’t expect you to tend the plants, Your Highness.” Oh? Dimitri filed that tidbit about his friend away for another time.
“Actually, I was looking for you.” Dimitri showed her the lost ring. “I found this ring and I think someone from our House lost it. Is it yours?”
Annette took the ring and peered at it closely.
“No…” She started, and turned it over a few times. “It is quite unique though. And I know it’s not Father’s; he doesn’t wear his wedding band anymore. Have you asked Ingrid?”
“I have. It is not hers, nor Mercedes',” Dimitri confirmed. If it wasn’t any of theirs, then maybe perhaps it belonged to —
“Why don’t you ask Sylvain? He’s always holding onto things that girls leave in his room.” Annette suggested, grimacing at that last part. She handed the ring back. “He says it’s a reason to, uh, woo them again.”
The prospect of holding onto this item now felt less appealing to Dimitri. Still, he made a note of her suggestion.
—
“Hey, Your Highness, Dedue,” Sylvain called out behind him as Dimitri took a plate from the dining hall counter. Dedue had joined Dimitri for dinner and the two were helping themselves to food as their friend approached.
“Hello, Sylvain,” Dimitri was glad he didn’t have to search for him all around the monastery. “Why don’t you dine with us tonight? Unless you have a date already.”
The other man smiled. “Actually, I don’t, and yes, I would enjoy that. It’s rare to see you taking your meals outside of the dorms or the council room.”
They claimed a spot in the hall, and within minutes, Felix also joined them. A true rarity.
“Hmmph,” was the swordsman's only greeting before he started on his food. The other three exchanged a few pleasantries. Sylvain updated Dimitri on his latest romantic conquests: a promise of a date here, a confession of love there. Dedue made no comments and ate in polite silence.
How tiring, Dimitri thought as Sylvain explained the intricacies of his efforts. To expend so much effort on romance. He was never one for such entanglements. Though that reminds him...
“So Sylvain, I have to ask you something,” Dimitri interrupted his friend’s on-going tale. “Did you lose something recently?”
To his surprise, Sylvain chuckled. “Oh, Your Highness? Trying out one of your new lines?”
“What?”
“Ingrid and Mercedes told me you were going around asking girls about a ring,” he continued, taking bites of his meal as he spoke. “I figured you were testing out a new pick-up line or something. You know: you show a girl a pretty ring, she likes it, you offer it to them and the rest works itself out.”
The rest...works itself out?
“What are you doing, you boar, running around with a ring?” Felix stared daggers at him. Perhaps he had heard about his run-in with Annette.
Dimitri frowned. He was not out to play games or deceive anyone; now, he started to worry if any of the women he asked got the wrong idea. “No, you got it all wrong,” he pulled out the ring to show them. “I found this ring in the council room after our last meeting. It must be someone’s from our House since we were the only ones there. I am only seeking to return it to whoever lost it.”
No one reached out to take the ring. They stared at it as if it were a completely foreign object, and Dimitri held the band from his palm — hand stretched wide and flat — as if it were a wild critter or a rare plant. Clearly, these four were more comfortable around sharp blades than they were with delicate jewelry.
“Well, what about the Professor?” Sylvain piped up, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Have you asked her yet?”
“She and Seteth left yesterday evening to manage affairs with the Northern Church,” Dedue added. “They are expected to return tomorrow night, Your Highness. If you’d like, I can deliver it to her upon their return.”
That’s right: the Professor. Like Ingrid, Dimitri never imagined her as someone who kept jewelry.
“No need, Dedue,” the prince placed the ring away. Mystery solved at least. “I’ll hand it to her myself.”
—
Dimitri waited outside by the Professor’s room the next day. He was unusually eager to complete such a trivial task. With the closing of one question came many others. Did the Professor even wear jewelry? She still wore the brooch they gave to her years ago, but he could recall no other ornamental pieces on her person. What if the Professor received it from someone? Perhaps it was a recent acquisition and she hadn’t had a chance to wear it.
No, that’s not likely. Such a beautiful ring would be worn immediately. Maybe she intended it to gift it?
He saw her from a distance, halting his thoughts. His heart skipped a beat upon seeing her green-haired form approach. He stilled himself and stood up a little straighter.
“Dimitri.” The Professor greeted him with a small smile.
“I am glad to see of your safe return, Professor,” he replied, returning a smile of his own. “I trust your trip with Seteth went well.”
She nodded.
“I wanted to speak to you,” Dimitri continued. His fingers trembled under his cloak, a flash of nervousness crashing over him suddenly. “Can we step inside your room?”
She nodded again, and led him inside. Dimitri had been here once before, for a tea during his birthday. The place was bare — only the necessities, he noticed — holding only some old books and a winter cloak on the wall. As those who make their living on the road, mercenaries learned not to keep anything too frivolous. It seemed unlikely that such a mercenary would hang on to such a ring, if it was hers.
“Should we sit?” The Professor — no, Byleth — turned to him in the middle of her room, gesturing to her small tea table and seats.
“Ah, no, this should be quick.” Those questions burned within him; they were eager to be answered. He held out the ring to her, as he had many times in the day prior.
“Is this your ring?”
Dimitri got his answer with her widened eyes as she saw the silver band. She immediately reached into her coat, patting down her pockets. There, she found the culprit: one of her inner pockets had a sizable fray on its seam.
“It must have fallen out…” Byleth murmured. She took it from him, cradling the ring in her fingers. “I’ll have to put this in a safer place.” She met his gaze. His face grew a tad warmer. “You have my gratitude.”
“I found it in the council room two days ago, after our last meeting,” Dimitri explained. “I have to ask, Professor: why do you not wear it? It is a beautiful ring and it would be harder to lose if you wore it.”
“Oh, it isn’t for me to wear,” she replied easily. As if it were an obvious fact. Her profile looked a tad sadder — after months of close proximity, Dimitri prided himself on being able to read her subtle expressions. This must be a touchy subject, or perhaps one she hesitated on broaching with him.
“Ah. Is it a gift for someone then?” Still, he wanted to confirm. He would not press her if she was truly uncomfortable but he felt that as her friend, he had some right to know.
“Actually, my father passed it on to me.”
There it was. Dimitri relaxed. It was a family heirloom; surely, there was nothing to worry about. Not that he had worried at all.
Byleth paused for a moment. “He asked that I give it to someone I loved, as he loved my mother.”
Oh. Oh.
“And when do you plan on doing that?” The question slipped from his tongue. A blush bloomed on Byleth’s face and she glanced away. A bold question, to assume she even had someone in mind; the very thought awoke an envy he had long buried far from his heart.
What was he doing, prying on such private matters? In her own room? Dimitri chastised himself; he never had the social tact that Sylvain had regarding affairs of love.
“Well, I had planned on doing so after the war was settled…” She trailed off. He had never seen her so uneasy or off-guard. But her answer did suggest she had a person in mind; that she intended on actually proposing to someone.
Dimitri's best course of action was to stop this conversation now, before he did any more damage. “I apologize, Professor,” he put up a hand to stop her. “You do not have to go on. I only wished to return this ring. Now, I wish you luck in your future proposal. Another reason for us to make it through the war.”
Byleth stared at him, this time with a mix of emotions on her face. “I...yes,” she agreed. “Thank you again.”
He left her room and the envy within him threatened to morph into something ugly.
—
The answers Dimitri finally uncovered did nothing to ease his mind. He laid in bed later that night, going over the new mystery before him. He recapped his findings: the silver ring belonged to Byleth. It made sense that she never wore that ring; her father intended her to pass it to her lover.
Her lover, he repeated in his head. Her lover.
Had he been so focused on his quest for vengeance that he never noticed Byleth take on a lover? Since the battle at Gronder, they had spent hours upon hours together, side by side, looking over maps and military reports. The war had been intense and taxing, and they never discussed personal plans for the future ahead. With all that he said to her in his darkest moments, that she remained by his side aiding him was far too generous on her behalf. He understood if she did not wish to discuss such delicate matters with him.
She must be courting someone in their army. Dimitri ran through the possibilities.
Byleth preferred to train with Felix, since they were equals with the sword. Though, Dimitri could not imagine Felix being interested in romance; plus, it seemed that his friend preferred Annette’s company. Byleth also fished with Alois and Gilbert not infrequently, though Dimitri doubted it would be either of them. Both knights were quite older and married, with their own families.
She and Dedue shared a fondness for the flowers at the greenhouse. Dimitri would learn to accept such a pairing — how could he not be happy for his two closest companions? — but he knew that it would devastate him.
Was it Sylvain? The red-head liked to prattle on about how wooing women was like a siege and perhaps he had finally broken through Byleth’s, er, gates. Dimitri's stomach churned at the thought of this analogy. He did not explore it in further detail. Surely, the Professor had more sense than that.
Perhaps it was Ashe, ever so gentle and tender, with his profound knowledge of chivalry and knighthood. The archer could weave stories and legends that likely make him excellent company through the night.
What about Seteth? Years ago, the man made his objections to Byleth’s appointment as a professor well-known. With Lady Rhea gone, Byleth temporarily filled the seat of Archbishop and those two spent a lot of time — a lot of late nights, he noted — discussing church matters.
Dimitri needed to be thorough. Did she prefer women? He noticed she liked to prepare treats with Mercedes in the dining hall, cooking for the rest of the army on free weekends. He also heard — by way of Cyril — that Byleth often lounged with Dorothea in the Archbishop’s garden on the third floor of the monastery.
He groaned into his pillow as he kept going, adding up the potential suitors who may have caught the Professor’s eye. The trauma of war has certainly brought them all closer to each other. Though he was not sure to whom exactly Byleth was going to propose, Dimitri felt certain about one thing: he needed to act. She had done so much for him and he was loathe to lose her from his side, for...for reasons he could not bring himself to voice. And if he could not compete with this lover of hers — his heart sank at the possibility — then he could at least get her a token to remember him by.
Dimitri was no expert at love, but he was an adept warrior and tactician. Channeling principles of war, he decided he would need to strike first, before Byleth gave her heart away. He worried about forcing her into something she did not want — it would be harder to deny him once he became King — but if there was a chance, he knew had to take it before it was lost.
He rose early the next morning, gathering as much money as he could carry without drawing attention. The prince marched down to the marketplace where the merchants were setting up their wares for the day. The blacksmith was tending to their forge as Dimitri approached. They recognized him, a frequent — and wealthy — customer. They were about to lay out the latest lances and plates for him before Dimitri made his request.
The would-be King of Faerghus dropped the bag of gold on their table and asked for the blacksmith for two things: a custom order, to be made along with the swords and shields they were already creating for his army, and their complete and utter secrecy.
—
The end of the war passed in a blur of emotions: rage, pain, sorrow, and finally, relief. But despite the Kingdom army’s decisive victory, its commander could not yet find rest. The night before his coronation, Dimitri stood in the Goddess Tower, the very place where he reunited with the Professor nearly a year ago. He felt like a teenager again: all hands and limbs and feeling far too hot for being in a room with open windows. For a man who had just defeated the Imperial army and had stared down countless Demonic Beasts, he was terrified of the next moment to come.
Byleth arrived and stood before him. Dimitri's tongue was dry and his stomach was performing acrobatics he desperately wished would cease. The eloquence from his youth had long dried up. If any of his friends were here now, they would surely laugh at his state.
He ended up taking a craven’s route: Dimitri dropped an emerald ring in her hand with no other explanation. Byleth stared it in silence. The pause she gave him — with eyes wide and mouth slightly agape — proved to be more painful than any wound he had sustained in battle.
Byleth could nod politely, thank him, and take it as a platonic gift and he would leave the matter at that. She could also take the ring and toss it out the window, or keep it if only to sell it and add the sum to the church’s coffers. She could...no, he could not bring himself to feed that feeble hope in his heart. But Dimitri would accept any of those answers readily, if she would just satisfy his unspoken query.
Her eventual response would be a token of her own: the very same silver ring that caused him to pose the question in the first place, as well as a kiss filled with pent-up need from a thousand glances across the room and holding hands in the rain and the warm relief of something precious being lost and then found.