Chapter Text
[AUTHOR’S NOTE: Ultimately, this is a story about loss, grief, and healing. Dedue’s brief appearance in the Golden Deer route was rather heartbreaking. After seeing the lengths the man would go to for Dimitri in the other routes, it is obvious that his devotion – while admirable in some sense – was also incredibly unhealthy. So this is also a fix-it story – imagining what might have happened if Byleth caught up to Dimitri’s retainer after Enbarr and convinced him to assist her in the final battles at Shambhala and beyond. There’s a lot to unpack, so be patient. Springtime will return, I promise – it always does.]
Distant thunder rumbled ominously, and the sky was slowly growing dark. Soon, the heavens would open and mourn alongside the lone figure slowly advancing across a vast, open field. It was scarred by horses’ hooves weighed down by heavily armored riders, and charred black in patches by deadly spellcraft. The stench of death lingered – carrion birds still circled in hopes of snagging the last, fetid morsels from the bones of a downed wyvern.
Dedue had given the last of his purse to ride in a battered merchant’s cart fleeing the destruction of Enbarr, and then he had walked through the night to reach this place. The gray light of a new day was fading prematurely as the storm advanced. Normally, rain would be a terrible annoyance for a man clad in armor – but Dedue’s pace remained steady. Soon the battlefield was crossed, and he entered a grove of young trees that had miraculously been spared from the ravages of war.
At their center was a small, raised bed of earth. The tattered remnants of a blue banner rustled softly against its support in the light breeze at its head. Such was the lowly grave for the last of the line of House Blaiddyd, the newly crowned king of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Gilbert had despaired that it wasn’t possible to lay Dimitri to rest alongside his family far to the north in Fhirdiad. The former knight’s axe lay abandoned in the grass not far from the humble mound.
Dedue mirrored his mentor in dropping his own weapon as he approached. His gauntlets followed suit. With reverence, he knelt down beside it – finally giving in to the fatigue of his long journey.
“You can rest now, Your Highness. It is done.” He whispered aloud. “She is gone.”
There was no answer save for the continued fluttering of the banner – the light fading even further.
Dedue had not shed tears of his own in many years. He was grateful when a light pattering of droplets finally began to fall from the sky - a flash of lightning in the distance promising more to come. Water rolled off his armor, gathering at the joints and threatening to soak the padding and clothes beneath. But it didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered anymore.
The wind picked up its pace. The remains of the once proud banner, now soaked and heavy, kept waving – the only sound to be heard in the clearing besides the dull roar of steady rain.
“I’m still here, Your Highness. I’m still here.” Dedue whispered, placing his cold hand on the now glistening mound. Perhaps he wanted to reassure himself that running off to Enbarr to help fulfill the tortured man’s final wish had only been temporary – that he had returned to his master’s side as promised. Or perhaps he was lamenting that Dimitri had gone to a place beyond – a place where Dedue could not follow.
There was nothing left for him here. Dedue’s life belonged to a corpse.
The cold of the damp air sneaking in through the slight gaps in his armor seemed freezing. If he remained here without shelter, without a fire for warmth – how long would he last? He could not remember when he last ate, nor could he bring himself to care – even as his traitorous body cried out in distress.
It was easy enough to ignore.
…
“The storm looks like it will get worse before it gets better. We shouldn’t linger too long.” A familiar voice came from behind him, rising over the sound of the rain. It belonged to someone Dedue had left far behind in Enbarr. Someone he did not expect to see ever again.
He did not move.
“I picked up your axe. Or is this… Gilbert’s? I suppose he has already moved on?” The voice continued. The meaning of those last few words could be construed in more than one way.
“I do not know.” Replied Dedue, still without turning around to face them. Perhaps there were others – a whole band of followers. He didn’t want to find out. He didn’t care.
“The war isn’t over. There is still much to do.”
Dedue sighed. “It is over for me.”
…
“I know you are not a fighter at heart, Dedue. But your strength and skill could turn the tide in the coming conflicts. Given how little we understand about the enemies' power - we do not know what surprises they might have waiting for us.” The pestering voice stated coolly.
“My enemy is dead. I watched you kill her.” Rebuffed Dedue, perhaps a little more gruffly than he intended. “I do not care for your cause.”
“Surely, Dimitri would have wanted peace--”
“Do not presume to speak for him!” Dedue cut them off angrily, finally turning around to glare at the intruder. He just wanted to be left alone.
“Alright. Then what will you do instead?” The question hung in the chilly air. It was just one person after all - but a formidable opponent should they prove hostile.
…
Byleth continued. “Do you intend to stay here, Dedue? To wither away at his graveside?”
“I… I do not know. Without him… I…” But he trailed off, his anger quickly fading. His knees sinking deeper into the fresh mud.
“You fought with us at the Imperial Palace.” Byleth reminded him.
Dedue shook his head. “I was there to see Dimitri's wish fulfilled. For closure. For revenge.”
“Hilda saw what happened. She told me – Edelgard did not order Dimitri’s death. The fighting had subsided. He blindly advanced towards her and was brought down by her guards.”
“I was there!” Dedue’s anger flared up again. “I saw it all. Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I tried… tried to…”
…
“I don’t believe Edelgard was the source of Dimitri’s pain, Dedue. She was just… simply the easiest one for him to blame.” Byleth’s words were soft, as if she was hoping they might be soothing.
Dedue wasn’t buying it. “Then why did you kill her?”
It took a long time before Byleth could answer. The storm grew louder – more intense.
…
“Edelgard embraced her fate. She decided a long time ago to accept victory… or death. Believe me, I could not have saved her – no matter how much I wished to.” Byleth nearly yelled over the rain.
“Why would you wish to save her?” Dedue was disgusted. Surely, Byleth wasn’t serious. After Edelgard’s deception, the invasion of Garreg Mach, the destruction of the Holy Kingdom of Fearghus, and the implications of her involvement in the Tragedy of Duscur – he could not fathom anyone more monstrous.
Byleth’s eye’s shone with unshed tears, even as raindrops rolled down her cheeks. “The Dedue I remember from the Academy wouldn’t have asked me that. Dimitri’s rage was poisonous – it consumed him body and mind. It will consume you as well.”
The rebuke stung. Even more so because Dedue could not deny its truth.
“I ask you again – what will you do now?” Byleth shouted.
Dedue turned back towards the simple mound. Sometime during their heated discussion the wind and the softening of the earth had dislodged the banner at the head of Dimitri’s grave so that it hung at a precarious angle – crooked and pathetic.
“I belong with him. I belong… to him.” Resolved Dedue – no longer caring if Byleth could hear him or not. “Leave me be.”
…
The rain continued to fall.
Dedue thought Byleth had left – but then splashing footsteps in shallow puddles or the unmistakable sound of an axe felling some saplings would break through during a lull in the storm, interrupting his solemn vigil. She was building a simple shelter – seemingly oblivious to the sacred ground she was defiling.
But at this rate, the storm would blow over by the time she found enough dry wood for a fire. Dedue turned back around, caustic anger threatening to boil over once more.
Byleth was not dressed well for inclement weather. The long fabric trails of her decorative sleeves were sodden and hung limply - and quite uselessly - off of her mostly bare arms. Her thin leggings helped her move swiftly across the battlefield, but offered little warmth. She swung Gilbert’s mighty battle axe a little clumsily and as a mere tool – her own brilliant sword nowhere in sight.
She was shivering.
To dismiss her so callously after enduring the long journey from Enbarr had been unkind – even if her pursuit was unwelcome.
Dedue pressed his hand once more to Dimitri’s grave – a reverent caress he never would have attempted while the man still drew breath. Then Dedue laboriously pulled himself from the mud and went to Byleth’s aid.
***
The storm cleared up by mid-afternoon, but the sky remained overcast and gloomy. Even with Dedue and Byleth working together, they had only just scrounged up enough kindling for a small fire - and it wouldn't last long. It was damp and miserable in their little lean-to. Now that they were thoroughly soaked, at least they were protected from the wind.
They hadn’t spoken all throughout the shelter’s construction. Even when Byleth produced some dried meat and fruit from a small pouch and divided it evenly into two portions – they remained silent. Dedue accepted the food with only a twinge of guilt. He reasoned that indulging her just this once and keeping his strength up so as not to become an inconvenience would be the fastest way to be rid of her.
Without warning, however, Byleth spoke. “I’ve decided to tell you a secret, Dedue. One that I haven’t even shared with Claude yet.”
Dedue shook his head. “I do not deserve such an honor.”
“But you see – it is very important for understanding the story I am going to tell next.” Continued Byleth. “You told me once that you owed Dimitri your life. Your devotion… no, your love for him is most admirable. I am confident that you have fulfilled your life debt.”
Dedue said nothing.
“No doubt you disagree. Perhaps in your mind you cannot comprehend existing outside his service. You might never feel satisfied unless you give yourself up to him until the bitter end. If this is the case… just as I could not save Edelgard, perhaps I cannot save you.” Her words were warm, like the crackling fire between them.
Still Dedue did not speak.
“Let me ask you this. If Dimitri had ordered you to serve another – would you have done so?” Questioned Byleth.
Reluctantly, Dedue nodded.
“What if he commanded you to keep fighting, even if he fell in battle?” She pressed.
“Then I would fight.” Dedue responded dutifully.
“Would you have done this for anyone you owed a life debt to?” Byleth asked.
This was much harder to answer. But in the quiet of the little clearing, whispering softly by a fire with a possible ally, and knowing that it hardly mattered anymore – Dedue replied honestly. Or at least as well as he could manage - he had never been particularly eloquent. “I don’t know. His Highness… he was… special to me. I… trusted him. Completely.”
Byleth nodded in understanding before changing her focus. “Do you remember when I returned from the Sealed Forest – how I had changed?”
Dedue nodded once more. “They said you had been blessed by the Goddess of Fodlan.” He remembered that Byleth’s eyes and hair had lightened to a pale green, and her skill with the Sword of the Creator had grown considerably. She had also been carried back to the monastery by her students on a stretcher.
“It was… an explanation that appeased inquiring minds – but it wasn’t the truth. Or at least, not the whole truth.” Hinted Byleth. “This is my secret, Dedue – so pay attention. Part of the Goddess dwells within me, and up until then, she would – on occasion – lend me her strength. She first manifested when I saved Dimitri, Claude, and Edelgard at the start of term six years ago. And on that day in the forest… we merged. In some sense, I am her.”
Had Dedue not witnessed firsthand her incredible power, he might have been more skeptical. But it made an odd sort of sense.
“The power I speak of allows for… well, I can manipulate time. Not completely, and only for a brief moment – but it is usually enough to make a difference.” Byleth revealed.
“I’m not sure I follow.” Dedue was confused.
Byleth changed focus yet again. “When we fought at the Imperial Palace, there was a moment – right after we entered the throne room – where I held you back from charging one of Edelgard's men. Do you remember?”
Dedue had been so focused on getting to Edelgard, he had rushed in with his axe raised – ready to cut down any obstacle in his way. Byleth had grabbed hold of his armor and pulled him back… just as a magician’s bolt exploded across his intended path. At the time, he had simply thanked her – assuming she had seen the enemy preparing his attack. He recalled that her face had been white, and that she didn’t offer any explanation. Instead she just returned all of her attention to the battle - sweeping the area as if reassuring herself of everyone else’s position.
“I remember.”
“I watched you die, Dedue. The spell hit you in the chest and you collapsed, lifeless at my feet.” Byleth said this with conviction and a look of horror in her eyes.
Dedue didn’t know what to say to that, so he remained silent. This did not, in fact, happen – otherwise they would not be huddled together in a secluded part of the woods surrounding Gronder Field.
Byleth continued. “I had already used my gift several times by then and I was reaching my limit. Such is the price for a mere mortal wielding powers of the divine, I suppose. I rewound the clock, just enough to pull you out of harm’s way.”
…
“That is… an extraordinary claim.” Dedue finally replied.
“It is the truth.” Byleth’s voice and stern gaze did not waiver. Rogue droplets of water fell from the branches above them and onto the fire, making it hiss and spark.
Again, Dedue was reminded of the uncanny abilities Byleth had displayed every once in a while during their time at the Academy. And there seemed to be no reason for her to make up such an outlandish lie.
“As such… if your devotion to the dead is stronger than your compassion for the rest of us – even eclipsing your will to live – then I put claim to it. Your life belongs to me now.” Byleth concluded.
Again, Dedue was rendered speechless.
Byleth got up from beside the fire and looked up at the sky. The worst of the storm had truly passed and patches of sunlight could be seen peeking out from behind the clouds that remained. While they weren’t completely dry yet – their meager fire wasn’t quite strong enough for that – they were unlikely to die of exposure. Especially if they started back towards a town or village.
“I have… nothing to offer.” Dedue finally found his voice. “I have no desire to fight.”
“Then come back to the monastery and cook for us – or garden. We have our biggest battle yet upon the horizon, and you will help us prepare for it if you refuse to fight.” Byleth kicked sodden clumps of dirt on the flames, smothering them. “But you are not allowed to wither away out here on your own. I forbid it.”
Dedue looked at the dying embers of the fire they had worked so hard to light earlier.
He could refuse.
He could demand proof of Byleth’s extraordinary power.
His gaze drifted back to the solitary mound not far away – the banner had fallen completely to the ground now, covering the raised earth with ribbons and waves of tattered blue fabric. His life belonged to Dimitri – it always would.
But… Dimitri was gone.
“Were I to fight alongside you… were I to fall…?” Dedue began to suggest.
“Your heart is buried here. I know this. Rest assured, I will do my best to reunite you. But… I will not allow you to fall, Dedue. Focus instead on the path in front of you – the journey to Garreg Mach. Claude will be expecting us back in two days’ time.” Byleth finished burying the remnants of their fire completely.
Her certainty was a column of support which Dedue desperately wished to cling to.
Byleth picked up Gilbert’s axe where she had left it leaning against a tree. She walked over to Dimitri’s grave and placed the weapon atop the banner, ensuring that the wind would not carry it away. “Pick up your weapons, Dedue. The fallen king has enough ghosts to protect his resting place until we return. It is time to march.”
Dedue nodded and hurried to obey.
[More to come - please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed it. Thank you.]