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“I’m here for tea, Professor,” A low voice and the creak of the wooden door startles Byleth out of her reverie. Blinking a few times, she rises from her seat by the window, straightening in shock as she sees Dimitri standing in the doorway.
The black uniform hugs his figure, intricate gold embroidery shining against the black fabric. His blue house leader cape is ironed and free of wrinkles. A shy smile graces his face as he takes in the sight of her, lit up angelically from the light streaming in through the window. Her shock and confusion fades away, softening at the sight of him.
She tilts her head. I don’t recall inviting him to tea, but this is not unwelcome. She glances at the clear blue sky, dotted with white tufts of cloud, vast and expansive outside of her window. The view can wait.
“Of course, Dimitri. Have a seat. I’ll be with you shortly.” Byleth ushers him to one of the cushioned chairs accompanying the tea table in the center of the room. He perches himself on the edge of the chair, posture stiff and formal.
“You can be less formal here, Dimitri. It’s just the two of us.” Byleth holds back a laugh as she takes out the tea set from her side drawer.
“Ah, of course.” He inhales deeply and moves back in the chair, adopting a more comfortable position.
Satisfied to see him more at ease, she sets about her tasks swiftly, a pleasant feeling singing in her veins at the thought of spending time with him. Byleth just manages to catch herself before she starts humming aloud in delight at this unexpected turn of events in her day. “I apologise, it’s quite a lovely view outside today and I must have lost track of time.”
His eyebrows are furrowed as he stares intently at the lone window in her room. Dimitri’s reply is hesitant, bemused. “Your window has metal grills on them, however. Is that...normal?”
“It’s strange, isn’t it? I must ask Rhea if I can remove them. Perhaps it was for someone else’s safety, but I dislike not having an alternative to the door for escape.” Byleth sets the tea down on the table. There’s already food there, plates of pastries and finger food.
Doubt whispers in the recesses of her mind. When did these get here?
“The tea is good.” His proclamation catches her attention. Dimitri is sipping the tea with exuberance, eyes wide with joy. His cheeks puff up as he smiles.
She watches him silently as she settles herself comfortably in the seat next to him. The steady sound of sipping and the warmth in her hands brings a peace to her heart that she hasn’t felt in ages.
But Dimitri seems quieter today, more so than usual. His eyes are down, focused on the clear surface of the tea. Clenched fists press down on his thighs, the knuckles white with tension.
Dimitri has always worn his heart on his sleeve.
“What’s wrong?” Byleth prods gently. Oh, how she wants to take his hand in hers and smooth out his tense fingers. He’s silent for a beat, as if weighing and calculating his next words before- “I killed someone. A rebel, aiming for the throne of Faerghus. He was holding a locket, with a lock of hair. Most likely could have been from someone he loved.”
His eyes are shadowed, dark with regret. “I did what had to be done. But it feels awful, knowing that the person I killed had people waiting back home. That he would never go back to them.”
Silence blankets them, the heavy topic weighing on their hearts.
“Killing has, and never will be, easy.” Byleth continues softly. “But I would kill to protect those I love.”
She pauses, looking at her distorted reflection in the teacup. An image flashes just then, of her reflection in a rain puddle and a bowed head. Panic in her chest, and an inhuman scream breaking the silence of the battlefield. Blood, not hers, splatter and spurt, warm on her skin.
She blinks and it’s lost to the shadows of her mind. Her fingers tremble ever-so-slightly, the images shaking her to her core. It seems familiar. Too familiar. Is this a memory?
But Dimitri sidetracks her with another line of conversation, and she doesn’t give it a second thought.
“I think I’ll have a sweet-apple blend today,” Dimitri declares at the next tea time.
Byleth is befuddled. An avid fan of chamomile tea, Dimitri almost never takes anything else. Something nags at the back of her mind, whispers that something is wrong, she needs to stop this, it's not real, it’s not healthy- .
But the sweet sound of Dimitri’s humming and the warm sunlight slanting through the window wraps her in a sweet embrace, and the nagging thought that something is wrong sinks under the waves of comfort washing over her.
Sweet apple blend it is. Maybe he’s being adventurous today.
The first sip of tea has him sighing in delight. She hides a smile behind the rim of her porcelain cup, a warm, pleasant feeling blooming in her chest at the sight of his enjoyment.
“What are your plans after graduation, Dimitri?”
“There are people who need me.” He comments softly. “I can’t abandon them. I will go back to them after I graduate.”
A pang in her chest catches her off guard. Logically, it makes no sense for her to be feeling this way. He is the heir to a kingdom that has been eagerly waiting for his leadership. His people need him. So why does the thought of him leaving her make her irrationally alarmed? “Are you...going back to Faerghus right away?”
Dimitri’s cup pauses on its way to his mouth. He glances up at her, and she can’t help but feel like her soul, her inner thoughts are being laid bare under his piercing gaze. She squirms in her seat, uncomfortable.
He is gentle in his reply. “I’m right here, Byleth. I’m not leaving you.”
There’s a dull ache beneath her left rib as he says this, as if her heart is telling her something she doesn’t want to know.
Crumpled blue cloth on grass. Blood stained blonde hair. A horned devil with her skeleton axe, dripping the blood of a righteous king.
When they meet for their next tea time, Byleth instantly realises something is off.
Dimitri seems different today, somehow. Byleth worries her bottom lip, trying to determine why. She studies him from her seat across the table. Has the table always been this long? Why does he seem so far away?
His blonde hair seems even longer than usual. His blue Academy cape seems to have black and white fur lining the edges. And the gold embroidery shimmers silver. But everything looks blurry and wet.
She must be imagining things, there’s no rain in this room. Her vision is hazier and blurrier than usual. Byleth rubs her eyes. A lack of sleep, I suppose. I should take better care of myself, or Dimitri will no doubt chide me.
Lo and behold, Dimitri is studying her from across the table with keen eyes. Creases appear on his forehead, and his lips are pursed tightly.
“I wish I could say that the creases make you more handsome, Dimitri,” Byleth teases. “What’s on your mind?”
“You’ve gotten thinner.” Dimitri frowns severely. “Are you not eating enough?”
“War rations are limited, Dimitri, you know this.” She reminds him sternly. But when she tries to recall if she has eaten that day or not, the memories seem to blur together. She can’t remember. Her head aches from the effort, so she pushes the thought aside. “And I’m not hungry.”
“I’m sure the Commander of the army is entitled to more food,” Dimitri sighs, and slides a delicious looking plate of pastries towards her. “Here.”
Her stomach growls on cue at the sight, and she blushes a healthy shade of pink. Dimitri laughs, a full-bellied one that echoes in her ears. She stores the memory of that laugh away for a later time.
“Not hungry, you say?” She can’t help a short chuckle at the teasing glint in his eye. Acquiescing, she picks up a sugar bun and bites into it cautiously. It’s good. In a flash, it’s gone and she’s picking up another pastry, ravenous.
“You must take care of yourself, Byleth.” Sadness weighs down Dimitri’s face.
“Only if you take care of yourself first.” She retorts in between bites, an eyebrow raised.
“Don’t worry, neglect won’t be the cause for an early grave for me.”
No, but a war will. My failure in negotiating for your life will. As quickly as the self-deprecating thought comes, Byleth squashes it into oblivion and continues to occupy herself with eating.
The days pass like this; warm cups of tea and pleasant, engaging conversation. Her time is marked by his appearance at the threshold of her room, and the sight of his back as he leaves after a lovely meal.
But today is different. The sound of porcelain clinking is the cue that pierces through the fog in her mind.
Whipping around eagerly, she’s greeted with the sight of a fully laid out tea table, complete with steaming cups of chamomile tea, and Dimitri beaming brightly at her, wearing a white dress jacket and dress pants. A red flower rests over his left breast.
Her mouth drops open in surprise. He’s stunningly attractive in that getup, and the white complements his blonde hair. Her heart beats faster in anticipation.
“I thought I would surprise you.” A light blush coats his cheeks, and he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I hope you enjoy it.”
“I do.” Her simple reply deepens his smile. “Everything looks lovely. Thank you, Dimitri.”
“Why don’t we start with some tea?”
Byleth brings the cup in front of her up to her lips and inhales deeply. The aroma makes her take pause. Something is off, a richer scent underlying the usual gentle fragrance of chamomile.
There’s a quizzical tilt to her head as she sniffs again. Realisation chills her to the bone. It’s poison; a strong and quick-working one. Why would he-
“What are you waiting for, Professor?” His deep, innocent tones are a salve to the alarm thrumming in her veins. Hazy blue eyes blink at her as he sips from his cup. “Won’t you join me?”
Byleth pauses a beat, considering the deadly tea. Instincts-honed mercenary she is, she knows she’s not wrong about this. “Dimitri-”
He sets his cup down with a gentle clink, as Byleth’s fingers tighten on the handle. Going down on one knee in front of her, the corners of his mouth curve up into a gentle smile. He proposes. “Just take a sip, and we’ll be together forever. One last cup of tea.”
His earnest eyes and plea tug at her heart. A siren’s song, blocking out all rationality and self-preservation instinct, calling her to the depths to join her beloved. Is she willing to drown?
It’s not real, he’s not here, is it still worth living-
“I love you.” The alluring crescendo to Dimitri’s song, and the final nail in the coffin. His ruby red lips curve into a loving smile.
Her heart beats. Dimitri, Dimitri, Dimitri. Byleth squashes her alarm down with vengeance. She raises the cup to her lips and gulps the tea down, savoring its almost sickly sweet taste.
Immediately, her eyelids droop, and her fingers slacken. The cup handle slides from her loose grip and shatters upon impact on the floor. Byleth feels sapped of energy. Soon it becomes too much to hold her head up and she slumps against the wall.
The cold, smooth stone wall of her prison, not the warm, rough wood of her room in the monastery.
Dimitri, looking the part of a happy groom, disappears from her side. Her bright, colourful dream fades, and reality slams into her, unbidden.
She remembers. Imprisoned in a room at the very top of a tower for treason against the archbishop, for aiding Edelgard. And she’s so tired. How long has she been here? How many days, months, years have passed while she wasted away here? Without him by her side?
Distantly, Byleth hears metal creaking and the sound of people moving into her room. She can’t lift her head or move her dry, cracked, pale lips to greet them.
“It is for the best,” Composed, dulcet tones sound distorted in Byleth’s ears. “It’s more merciful to let her go.”
A pause.
“She was lost the moment Dimitri was killed by Edelgard in Tailtean Plains. Remember how she wouldn’t let anyone near his body? She killed Edelgard for it. It took Mercie, Sylvain, Lysithea and five healers to sedate her.”
The muffled sound of someone sobbing.
“Rest in peace, Professor. May you be happy in your next life.”
I will. A small smile tips up the corners of her lips as her eyelids close entirely and her heartbeat slows to a stop.
She sleeps.