Work Text:
Like always, you found yourself making the trek from your quarters to the ragged Cathedral, nodding to those you passed by but never stopping for conversation. You moved with purpose–and, of course, everyone knew what it was by now.
You stepped under the towering gate, gingerly crossing between the double doors into the Cathedral. Today, there were no services happening, no choir practicing, no monks or nuns praying; it was the day after battle.
People needed to recover from what they’d lost. You supposed you were the same–that was why you so doggedly found yourself returning to the crumbled Cathedral time and time again.
He was there. Like he always was–no different from last week, the week before that, the month before. Unwaveringly standing before the pile of debris, his eyes cast to the sky in silent mourning, silent conversation, silent suffering, his hands limp at his sides, shoulders tensed and bunched as if fortified in defense of something. You stopped several yards behind him, your eyes trained on the fine cobalt of his cloak. Even now, even after everything, it was intact, not a single tear or drop of blood marring it; you weren’t sure if that was some miracle or simply the fierce efforts of Mercedes. Sometimes, the two didn’t seem all that different.
As usual, he didn’t turn to you, though you were sure he had noticed your arrival. But… today was different. Rather than keeping his eyes steadfastly trained to the sky, his chin jerked harshly downward so that he was looking at the ground, his unkempt hair slipping into his eyes and his hands curling into fists.
You weren’t one to break routine, so you called out your familiar “Hello, Dimitri!” before taking your silent station at one of the pillars to his right. He didn’t say anything; you never expected him to. He wasn’t meant to speak; he simply had to listen as you told him of your day, of a particularly energetic dog you’d encountered by the fishing pond, of the meal you, Dedue, and Annette had collaborated on in the Dining Hall. Though he didn’t respond–he never did–you knew he took in your words, held to them like a lifeline, perhaps, because you never failed to notice the shine in his eyes when you were in the midst of explaining a particularly complicated story, never once missed the slight lift in his expression when you managed to get to the punchline of a convoluted anecdote.
Even as you told him of your day, you felt your words sticking in the back of your throat, and soon, your avid tone petered off into silence. It was almost oppressive, this silence, the weight of all you wished to say hanging between the two of you, the weight of his silent scorn. You could feel it even now.
“Why did you save me?”
He said nothing; merely upheld his silent vigil, frustratingly digilent in his solemnity.
“Dimitri.”
Nothing.
“It was out of your way. The Professor told you to go around the left; I was on the right. You remember. I know you do. An enemy was running straight for me, and you saved me. You…” You cast your eyes swiftly to the ground, begging the tears that burned within them not to spill just yet. “You could have gotten hurt.”
“I knew what I was doing. It means nothing.”
You looked up, all at once, your eyes wide and tearful. It was the most he’d said to you in the months you’d reunited; normally, you were lucky to get a clipped leave me alone out of him.
“What does that mean? What am I supposed to say to that?” You were growing desperate, the small surrender on his part pushing you onward, making you bold.
“It was a tactical move. Don’t fool yourself.”
“Fool myself?” You gasped, anger flaring in your chest. “Goddess above, you’re the fool, you could have died!”
Silence followed the bitter echo that succeeded your words, and Dimitri went back to looking at the ground. You felt as though you’d lost. You’d won a few words from him, but once again, after everything, after all these months, you’d lost him again. Lost him to the dead.
“Look at me!”
He laughed harshly at your desperation, his smile white and cutting, gleaming like a blade in the fresh moonlight, and you recoiled from it, from the stark difference between the soft, warm smiles he’d given you when the both of you were young, tentative, and irrevocably in love with each other. Your love had been fragile and slow, a lovely sort of hesitance in the times you’d shared, but now…
“You’re a healer,” he finally said, and his tone hurt worse than any sword, burned hotter than any blast of magic. “Assigned to me, specifically.”
“The Professor knows how reckless you are.”
“I kept you alive so that I could make use of you in battle. There is nothing more, nothing beyond that.”
You couldn’t find the words to fire back, couldn’t find it in yourself to make the effort anymore. Couldn’t stop the tears that finally spilled from your eyes. You sharply turned around, out of his view, and you reached up automatically to wipe your now wet cheeks.
“What happened to you?”
“The person you knew me to be never existed. I’ve always been this way—a monster. You were too foolish to see it.” He laughed again, the sound as grating as before. You’d never thought him capable of hurting you in this way.
You remembered the blushing politeness with which he’d regarded you, the soft smiles and gentle kisses he’d offered you, the safety he’d wrapped you in with his arms. You remembered lying under the stars with him, remembered brewing tea with him, remembered the electrified bond between the two of you on the battlefield. You remembered him, your sweet, brave prince.
“You were never him,” you breathed, your words not entirely your own, suddenly becoming clear and present in the heavy air. Everything had gone silent, as if the stars and the ruined Cathedral themselves had stopped to listen. “Five years ago. Even before that. That wasn’t you—not completely. That was a part of you. It still is. This person you are now…” You dried your tears and took a step closer to him, then another, another, until you were close enough to touch him. He was staring at you, his brows drawing together slightly.
“This person is not you, either, Dimitri. You know it as well as I do.” He forced out another low, mirthless chuckle, but it was defeated, somehow, and hollow. “I don’t care what you say. You’re not a monster.”
“And in the eyes of all whose lives I’ve claimed?”
“You’re not a monster, do you hear me?” You reached up suddenly, your hands finding their way onto either side of his face as you fiercely met his eye. He looked down at you, his eye narrowing with an emotion you couldn’t place, but he made no move to push you away.
“Don’t listen to them,” you breathed, and his gaze flashed. “Just this once, let them be silent. Stay here with me. Only for a moment.”
You barely dared to breathe as you faced him for fear of breaking the fragile connection that was slowly sparking between the two of you after being extinguished by the blood on both of your hands. War had suffocated the two of you, and violence had upheld that estrangement, but now, hanging in the shared air you breathed, there was a small flame, barely present, but it was enough. And it was unyielding, immovable as you were in the pallid moonlight.
His skin was so soft, and your thumb swept lightly over the small sliver of scar present outside of his eyepatch. You knew not of the mess underneath, but your heart broke for the loss of that eye, his lovely eyes, the compassion that had struggled for so long to win out in them, ripped and stolen from him by violence and twisted, bloodstained passion.
“Leave me,” he finally breathed, and you dropped your hands, a sigh sweeping through you. His voice shattered the sputtering connection between the two of you, and you dragged yourself back to your small pillar, defeat weighing heavily on your steps.
You sat on the chilly ground, resting an arm on the sizable chunk of rubble beside you. The walk back to your quarters was a long one, and the Professor was likely wondering about your location. You were usually back by this time. It was so cold, the frigid air free to roam through the Cathedral from the gaping blow dealt to the magnificent building five years ago. You drew inward on yourself with a shiver and squeezed your eyes shut. You had to maneuver yourself uncomfortably around the rubble in order to lie down, but you were simply too exhausted to hold yourself up anymore.
You’d tried. Goddess knew you tried, every single day, and tomorrow, you’d try again. You wouldn’t give up on him, and that was why he pushed you away with harsh words and intimidating silence. They meant nothing to you.
You’d make the trek back to the monastery in a moment. You’d just rest your eyes for a few seconds...
The last thing you saw before drifting off was Dimitri’s striking figure, head raised to the night sky and cloak stirring in the reluctant breeze, standing in reverence to answer to the dead.
Sunlight was assaulting your eyelids, and you squeezed your eyes shut against it. You prepared yourself to open your eyes, then did so with a sharp hiss of displeasure before they adjusted to the new morning.
You were in the Cathedral. Had you fallen asleep here? Dimitri was nowhere to be seen.
The first thing you noticed was that the rubble that had previously been poking and prodding at you had been moved. How? It was huge, too heavy for anyone to move. Except…
That was when you also noticed something heavy and warm covering your still reclining form.
Ah.
It was a magnificent blue cloak, furred and weighty, an effective barrier against the chill of the previous night.