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Dimitri knew that he would find Byleth at the cathedral.
The others had been looking for him the entire celebration, the festive spirit still tangible and overwhelming despite the war looming above. It seemed cruel not to celebrate, but even more morbid to have such a scene with so many voices that they loved missing.
As he crossed the bridge over from the monastery, Dimitri shivered despite the cloak he had draped around his shoulders. It didn't snow for the holidays, but the wind was still as vicious as always. It wasn't as cold as the winters in his kingdom, but the chill settled in his bones.
The cathedral was quiet, the rubble still in a heap at the altar. It was amazing to Dimitri that so much of the stained glass and statues were still intact. He supposed that the religion itself was never Edelgard's true enemy, but it would have been easy to rally the troops by bringing the entire holy place to destruction. He was glad that she didn't. There had to be some sort of hope that could be shown for the Holy Kingdom.
Byleth had taken a pew towards the front, glancing up to the altar that was somewhere underneath that rubble. Dimitri approached slowly, before calling out.
"Professor. The others were wondering about you." He stood by the pew, but didn’t enter the row. It took a moment for his professor to turn towards him, his green hair falling in front of his face from the action.
Sorry. Needed a moment, he signed. Dimitri was glad for his patience in teaching him how to sign—well he supposed there wasn’t much of a choice but for him and his peers to learn while Byleth had taught lessons. It had been a learning curve, but both Ashe and Ingrid knew how to sign and it was enough to get them through those first weeks.
Dimitri learned quickly that he didn’t mind putting in extra effort if it meant that Byleth wouldn’t have to worry about speaking.
“Take your time, Professor,” Dimitri said. “I’m sure they will be fine without us for a while. Would you care if I stayed for a bit?”
Byleth motioned for him to take a seat on the pew, so he joined him. The light from the candles was barely enough for them to make out one another’s expressions, but they didn’t need much communication. There were so many times in the past year where Byleth would stand by silently as Dimitri stewed, the vicious voices and his own mixing together into a dangerous concoction. He didn’t deserve to have someone like the professor by his side, but Byleth would come over from time to time and keep him company in the emptiness of the cathedral. The goddess might have forsaken him, but the professor refused to give up.
Dimitri still wasn’t sure how he would ever thank him for his patience.
He supposed it was a debt he would never be able to pay, much like the one that he owed to Dedue. What else was there to do apart from lead the war and ensure a swift end? It would be the only thing he could offer to all of those he loved. The debris crumbled in a perfect pile by the altar, and he knew that they should clean it sooner rather than later.
“Dimitri,” Byleth said softly. He had clearly been trying to sign, but Dimitri had been lost in thought as he stared at the stained glass windows. They were haunting at night, not a single ray of sun pushing through them. It made it look like the saints were glaring at them. Is everything alright?
“I guess I was just thinking about the war, that is all,” Dimitri said.
You should be celebrating the festival.
“As should you.”
My father never taught me how to partake in them. He paused before adding, Except for the alcohol.
Dimitri laughed at that comment, realizing that he felt lighter in the moment. He wasn’t sure if it was the festivities or his professor, but there was a warmth that had been absent from his heart for so long. “There would always be a lot more snow at this time of year back in Faerghus. I think the others are missing it, but it’s also quite comfortable at Garreg Mach.”
I’ve been in the kingdom a few times during the festival. Byleth smiled. One day I would like to return .
“Maybe you can come back with me when this is all over,” Dimitri said without thinking of what his words were implying. “Well, I don’t really have family back for you to visit… but once the war is over it will be quiet at the least. Then you don’t have to worry about too many people at once.”
“I would like that,” Byleth said, his voice always deeper than Dimitri remembered. He wouldn’t mind if his professor never chose to speak a word to him, but it was a good assurance that the man was comfortable with his presence. We should return to the others .
“Of course,” Dimitri said, but he could still feel his cheeks flaring up with a flush. He hoped that the professor wouldn’t be able to see it in the dimly lit cathedral. Mercedes would replace the candles when she had time, the knights lighting them during the evening to keep vigil. “Last I saw, Felix was twenty seconds away from skewering Sylvian drunk on the training grounds. I think Ingrid had it under control… but we should probably check.”
Byleth nodded, standing and waiting for Dimitri to get out of the pew before he followed. They plunged back into the night, holding their soundless companionship close between them. There would be days when the war would win, but this moment was for them alone. They bid the church farewell in a quick moment and Dimitri hoped that the goddess didn’t mind their presence.
After all, he was sure she could use the company as well.