Chapter Text
It starts with the sound of shattering glass and a pounding headache. Dimitri falters on the battlefield, wide eyes confused and disoriented for a moment before Dedue blocks an attack from a bandit that would have been fatal.
“Are you alright, Your Highness?” His retainer asks as he pushes the bandit back with his weapon and ends his life.
The prince nods, clutching his lance and turning back to face any incoming enemies. And yet the cold feeling of death refuses to go away, sending shivers down his spine and trembling his hands as he fights. It's strange, he thinks, as he stabs his weapon through another body. He could have sworn he had seen—
“Dimitri, look out!” He whirls around at the voice but is too late to avoid the axe slicing down and cutting deep into his chest, the pain searing hot, and he feels the life sleeping out of him as he bleeds and bleeds and bleeds—
“—Like a realistic vision of your death had Dedue not intervened?” Claude asks, bright green eyes as curious as ever. The brunette had set his tea down a long while ago in favour of listening to Dimitri’s recent concerns.
“Yes. It’s getting rather frequent in the past month, and I can’t help but worry it will affect my performance on the battlefield even more than it already has.” Dimitri sighs, raising his teacup to his lips.
Claude purses his lips, eyes flickering with an unreadable emotion as he taps his chin in thought. After a moment, he opens his mouth in response, “I do think it's weird, but perhaps it will go away someday, or you'll get used to it. Sorry I can't help you further.”
Dimitri waves a hand in dismissal. “It is quite alright, Claude. It is certainly…strange. My apologies for bringing up such a trivial topic during our tea session.”
The golden deer house leader chuckles at that. “No need to apologize. I was the one to ask what was troubling you, after all. Besides, what you’ve told me is rather…intriguing. Something to think about when I tune out of Hanneman’s boring lectures on crests and the like.” He pauses for a second. “Anyways, this was a great chat. Feel free to come to with anymore of your concerns.” Claude gives one of his signature winks as he smiles, but there’s something about the light in his eyes that has Dimitri stop and wonder what exactly it is that goes on in his fellow house leader’s head.
The blonde nods in response. “Of course. You were right about speaking to a friend about my worries, Claude. I feel better already, and...I rather enjoy spending time with you."
In response, Claude gives him a smile that seems more genuine than before.
>>>
The school year passes by in a flash, and everything begins to go downhill when Sylvain's older brother twists into something like a monster, Jeralt is killed, and the Flame Emperor is revealed to be Edelgard as she declares war on the Church.
Rage and anguish overcome his mind, clouding his thoughts until all he can think about is avenging the ghosts that claw at his back and twisting her head off her body, or grabbing a lance and spearing her through the heart again and again and again and again—
He doesn't notice the solemn green eyes watching him throw himself into the battlefield like the crazed monster he is.
Five years later, the professor comes back and they win the war. Claude hands him Failnaught with that genuine smile of his and a promise to come back, asking Dimitri not to judge him too harshly when he does.
He forgets the strange nightmares of death and the sounds of shattering glass during the times of battle in his youth. When he is crowned king, time flees him and he is swept up in the responsibilities of governing over three nations. The chilling visions of his numerous deaths blur and dissolve into the war that has long passed.
Dimitri takes care of his Kingdom, the Alliance, and Adrestia as the ‘Savior King’ with his dear professor by his side. Claude does come back, this time as a king of another nation and with a proposal to break down the walls that separate Fodlan and Almyra with a strong bond forged by their friendship. Of course, he accepts. Together, they unite the two countries as a first step to creating allies with the others.
Time marches on, taking his youth with it and he can feel it, his age catching up to him as he lays on his deathbed. Yet at the same time, it does not feel like the end when the Professor, with his ever-youthful appearance, lets his eyes linger a little too long on Dimitri’s.
Surrounded by his friends and loved ones, Dimitri passes away into the inevitable.
Then, time rewinds.
<<<
At Remire, being chased by bandits with Claude and Edelgard brings about a sense of déjà vu that won't quite go away. That feeling only grows when they meet Jeralt's mercenaries and, of course, Byleth Eisner.
The desire to seek the mercenary's approval overpowers the sense of wrongness about his situation and he jumps at the chance to tell Byleth about the Kingdom and impress the man.
The Professor chooses the Golden Deer this time, and conflicted feelings of disappointment and confusion clash in his chest. A wrongness about the situation, as if he was supposed to teach the Blue Lions instead. Dimitri quickly gets rid of those emotions. Hanneman is a perfectly fine professor, he reasons to himself, and he shouldn't be so slighted that his house wasn't chosen by the mysterious mercenary.
But as the moons pass and missions get progressively worse, he can’t shake the feeling that he is going through the same motions. Miklan's transformation, told from the perspective of the many shaken up Golden Deers, doesn't surprise him at all. Flayn’s disappearance is the same.
"Careful there, Your Princeliness." A hand reaches out and gently plucks the cracked teacup from his gauntlets, setting it back down onto the plate.
Dimitri's head shoots up in surprise. "My apologies, Claude, I just..."
"Something on your mind?" The sight of Claude’s familiar grin gives that same feeling of deja vu despite this being the first time he had spent time drinking tea with the Golden Deer house leader. He blinks, and for a moment imagines the person before him is older, wrapped in foreign silks and a slight beard on the sides of his face. The image fades away as fast as it had come and Dimitri finds Claude patiently waiting for him to reply.
“I—yes, there is.” Dimitri sighs. "However, it would be awfully rude of me to burden you with my concerns."
“I won’t mind.” Claude grabs his teacup once more. At Dimitri’s hesitance he continues. “C’mon, Your Princeliness, don’t you trust me?”
No, Dimitri’s mind replies, because you’re always hiding something behind that smile.
But his heart responds differently, and Dimitri has always believed in the best of people.
“I do,” he says, and is surprised to find himself believing it. Claude’s grin turns into a wide smile as something shimmers in his emerald green eyes.
“Well then, what has you looking so troubled?”
The prince pauses, brows furrowed as he tries to form his thoughts in a way that would explain the chaos of his dilemma. “Have you ever felt like you’ve gone through everything before?” At Claude’s questioning stare he struggles to explain further. “I mean—as in certain events don’t surprise you, or something should have gone differently?” Like the Professor choosing Golden Deer instead of the Blue Lions. Like the horrified and grim faces of the Golden Deers reminding him of the same expressions on his Lions.
Except they’ve never made that kind of face before. They haven’t gone through the same experience before. Right?
Flesh twists and grows larger and larger as the class watches on in horror. What had happened to the former noble? Annette and Mercedes look sick, Felix seemingly disgusted. Ingrid turns away with a hand over her mouth and Ashe looks terrified. Even the normally stoic Dedue is nervous about the huge beast that had just transformed in front of them. And Sylvain…is deathly pale, staring at the mass of flesh that was once his older brother.
The Blue Lions travel back to the monastery that day with victory tasting more like ash on their tongues.
Claude’s silence makes Dimitri sigh in resignation. “I apologize. It’s silly of me to think of something so absurd.” He feels slightly embarrassed at what he had just confessed to his fellow house leader, lowering his gaze to his cooling tea.
"How long?" At that, Dimitri lifts his head to meet Claude's unwavering gaze. There’s something different, he realizes. The Golden Deer house leader seems more open, more vulnerable than usual. His verdant green eyes full with an emotion—hope. "How long have you been feeling like this?"
"Since Remire. When..." He trails off, thinking. When they met Byleth Eisner. Their mysterious Professor.
"Do you remember anything?" The brunette is leaning forward now.
"Remember? I—" Dimitri shakes his head in confusion. "Is there something...?"
Claude huffs out a sigh, leaning back into his seat. "You still have a ways to go, then."
"I don't understand." A jolt of irritation passes through Dimitri. Why did he have to speak so cryptically?
The Golden Deer house leader laughs hollowly, shaking his head. "You won't. Not yet."
>>>
It is the same. Jeralt's death. Edelgard's war. His own simmering rage breaking through his princely mask and narrowing his vision until all he can see is Edelgard's head on a spear. All he can hear are the ghosts of the Tragedy commanding him to kill her, or die trying.
Five years pass, and nothing changes.
Except...
He finds himself dying on Gronder Field with all sorts of weapons impaling his torso. In his fading vision does he see the white of a familiar wyvern and flashing gold. Then, and only then, do his ghosts finally become silent. His mind wanders back to the times he had tea with Claude, to his cryptic words and half-genuine smiles.
He thinks of a time when he had sat with an older Claude, all smiles and laughter as fellow kings, and wonders if this was what Claude had meant when he asked if Dimitri remembered. He remembers bits and pieces of another life, where he had learned what it meant to heal.
He remembers far too late.
The life seeps out of the wounds on his dying body and he can feel it, death's frigid claws clutching at his heart, his mind. He should be feeling like this was the end of his rather pathetic life, unable to fulfill his goal of revenge, yet something in him merely waits. Not for death, no. For something stronger. More powerful.
Surrounded by corpses and enemies, Dimitri takes his last breath.
Time rewinds.
<<<
This time, Dimitri feels like throwing up when they arrive at Remire once more. His memories are scattered, confusing as he tries to sort them out, but the feeling of a painful and lonely death refuse to stop scraping at the edges of his already fraying sanity. The bandits are a welcome distraction from his own mind, yet he knows this reprieve is only temporary.
The desire to impress the teal haired mercenary pangs through him at the end of the battle but he elects to remain silent when the other two house leaders express their eagerness for the man's services in their own territories.
He’s silent even during the walk back to the monastery, burdened by these memories that weigh heavily on his mind and fails to notice a certain house leader watch him with a furrowed brow.
Byleth chooses the Black Eagles, and Dimitri accepts the mercenary's decision with a nod and a forced smile. It's different, he remembers clearer now, different from before. Yet there are still elements that are the same.
The mock battle is when he notices something strange. One moment, he’s fighting Edelgard with his training lance and winning. He disarms her and forces her to yield, watching her leave the battlefield with a disappointed shake of her head. The very next moment, however, Dimitri hears the sound of shattering glass and finds himself mid-fight with Edelgard again, caught off guard when an arrow from Bernadetta catches his shoulder and leaves him open. The Black Eagle house leader takes advantage of the opportunity and twists her axe as she swings to disarm him instead.
It’s over in the blink of an eye as Edelgard’s axe hovers over his neck.
"Yield," she commands triumphantly, and Dimitri does. He still can't help feeling slightly bitter over the fight he could have won. Should have won. That strange feeling during the battle...
More vague memories flash before him, none of them pleasant. Whether it was from a bandit or a demonic beast, he would fall to a fatal wound only to remain standing in that very spot, alive and shocked from the cold brush of death. Someone else, without fail, would jump in to save him before he was hurt.
But that was only when the Professor was in battle with them.
It is still too confusing, his past life and the one before it meshing together to create a convoluted puzzle he struggles to complete. Too many fragments of memories are mixed until all they become are nightmares and stray thoughts. It doesn’t help when Glenn’s or his father’s screams continue to increase in volume.
"Well, I wasn't expecting to see you here tonight, Your Princeliness." Claude's grin is casual as usual, fake and disarming and still hiding something. Dimitri, for all his patience and kindness, finds that he is tired and confused and—
And Claude knows something. Dimitri can see it in the guarded look in the teen's bright green eyes, in the forced smiles he shows to everyone around him, in the rare times Claude looks as if he was a soldier rather than a student.
He sees it in the knowing and almost sad expressions directed at him at times. The lingering touches when Claude slings a casual arm around his shoulder with a smile before leaning away and starting a conversation on the most trivial of things.
Despite the questions that plague his mind and the urge to question the teen before him, he refrains. He knows he isn't quite in his right mind tonight.
Tonight, Dimitri is tired and impatient. His mask thins and his head aches from too many sleepless nights. Still, he attempts to maintain his manners and composure as he gives the brunette a nod of acknowledgement. The beast is tightly chained up within.
Claude chuckles. “Did my appearance here in the library shock you speechless?"
Dimitri shakes his head in response. "That's not it. I'm just...tired," he admits. "I haven't been sleeping well at all these days."
At that, the Golden Deer house leader's eyes flicker with concern. "Hey now, sleep is important. You can count on me to lend an ear if you need it, Your Princeliness."
It’s odd that Claude knew right away something was troubling him. And yet, the prince relaxes, somehow comfortable in the presence of the other house leader even if they've only known each other for...a few months? Did that make them friends?
Teacups clink and conversations of various topics are spoken, none of them important. Hearty laughter fills the air and a comfortable silence follows.
"Are we friends?" he asks after a moment. His gaze fixate on the empty cup in his gauntleted hands, a slight flush of embarrassment on his face. He suddenly feels silly asking that sort of question. Ever since he had met the mysterious heir to House Riegan, there was always something within him that yearned to be close to the bright boy. Yet, there also seemed to be some sort of distance. A wall, put up between Claude and everyone else in the monastery. It is only right that Dimitri is unsure where he stands in Claude's eyes.
A pause. Then, "Your Princeliness, after spending so much time together, it's only now you wonder if we're friends?" Dimitri's blush darkens at the teasing tone.
"I'm sorry," he replies. "I was just—"
"Dimitri." He looks up in surprise at his name, locking eyes with Claude whose gaze seems softer than usual. "Of course we're friends."
"Okay." Dimitri nods, a smile growing on his face. "Thank you, Claude. I might very well accept your offer."
Claude brightens at that, turning and settling the books in his hold onto the table before pulling out two chairs. He looks up at Dimitri and stares at him expectantly, gesturing to one of the seats.
The blonde falters in surprise. "Wait, I—now? Here?"
All he receives in response is a bright and cheeky grin from the house leader. After a few moments of hesitance, Dimitri takes a seat and watches as Claude plops into the one next to him.
As if sensing the hesitance, Claude speaks. "I'm not forcing you to tell me anything right now, and you're always free to go back to your dorm room. But," he smiles widely this time, "it's an opportune moment to relieve yourself of whatever worries you. There's nobody else but me and you here."
Dimitri’s cheeks flush at the words. Even with Claude watching him carefully, making him slightly self-conscious, there’s something about the brunette’s presence that calms him. Perhaps it is because in his past lives, they were friends. He recalls sitting across from Claude, teacup in hand and a smile on his lips. He doesn’t recall what they spoke about, but it’s enough to know that they were close.
He closes his eyes and thinks about what to say.
“You may not believe me.”
Claude’s brow rises in surprise and curiosity. “Well, if there’s anyone who I’ll believe, it’s you, Your Princeliness. You’re practically the most honest person I know. Why not give it a try?”
And goddess, he wants to. He wants someone to know, to understand, to tell him everything will be okay, when he’s terrified of losing himself like he did for the past two lives. He still does not remember what set him off then, but he does recall the war and the corpses and the killing he had done in his rage. It makes him sick to the stomach every time he thinks about it.
But how can he tell Claude all this, when he wouldn’t be able to understand? He would never be able to understand the jarring feeling death on the battlefield, the flashes of memories warning him of a future full of death and bloodshed.
Claude has his secrets, but even he would never be able to understand Dimitri’s situation.
The silence stretches on, and perhaps Claude realizes the prince isn’t going to say anything because he begins to speak instead.
“In the first loop, Teach chose you.” Dimitri whips his head to face the brunette in surprise. Claude has a distant look on his face, turned away from Dimitri. “I was relieved, because I knew then that you wouldn’t have to die so young.”
“You—”
Claude he turns back to face the blonde, his smile pained but open. Vulnerable. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"
Dimitri goes silent, eyes wide in shock and breath caught in his chest. He doesn't shy away when Claude reaches out a hand and grabs his own, the warmth of his touch both familiar and not. Some sense of relief floods in him, to realize that Claude knows, he would understand—
"What do you remember?"
—And so, he pours out his heart to Claude, ignoring the ghosts behind him screaming bloody murder when he speaks.
The brunette understands when Dimitri tells him the fragmented state of his memories. "I'm not sure why," Claude says with his hands behind his head. "It might be because we're not supposed to remember. Kind of like a rip in the usual system. It's unnatural, but when it tries to fix itself it gets worse and we remember more of what happens in the loop."
"Why us?" Dimitri can't help but ask. "Why not the rest of our houses?" If all the students could just remember, perhaps they would be able to change things. The war, the deaths, his rage—
Claude shakes his head. "I don't know. For a long time, I thought it was just me-- until recently, when you started seeing things too."
Dimitri stops and there’s a question that itches at the back of his mind, needing to be asked. “Claude,” he starts, “what was it that triggered my rage? Why…did I lose myself?”
At that, the brunette is silent for a moment, expression suddenly somber.
“You really want to know, Your Princeliness?”
Dimitri is silent, the pounding of his headache suddenly increasing painfully. He closes his eyes and takes a shuddering breath. The only reason why he would lose to his rage… “Did I…find the perpetrator of the Tragedy of Duscur?”
Claude’s silence spoke volumes.
“Who?” His eyes snap open and turn to the brunette, the familiar anger flaring up in his veins. He forces the rage down, lips twitching into a frown. He really needs some rest if his anger is truly that difficult to restrain. Still, he needs to know who it is that is responsible for the Tragedy.
His ghosts scream for justice, for Dimitri to bring them peace through the deaths of whoever was responsible.
He waits for Claude, impatience thrumming through his veins and he has to reign it in, gauntleted hands twitching on his lap.
Yet Claude merely shakes his head with a heavy sigh. "I can't tell you."
A beat passes, and when Dimitri opens his mouth to speak once more he can't help but let some of his anger bleed into his voice. "Why not?"
"It's too early. You didn't react well then, and you won't react well now."
"But—" Dimitri stands up abruptly, fists clenched so tightly he could feel his gauntlets creak under his strength. He pauses, struggling to hold back his rage. "But if we can kill whoever it is now, won't we be able to stop them from doing more harm to others?"
"Do you think I haven't tried?" Claude lets out a frustrated groan, standing up from his seat. "It's not that simple. This whole time loop thing? It has a set path, and we can't stray too far from it. Something else always interferes."
Dimitri hesitates when Claude's expression falters, as if he had remembered something incredibly sad. A set path...
He shudders, remembering his death from his past life. So that is set too? His madness? The war? Everything suddenly feels unfair.
"What did you mean by something always interferes?" he asks, softer this time.
Claude turns away. "At first, I tried to stop the events this year from happening. I stayed near Flayn, hoping that I could at least discourage the Dark Knight from taking her. But the moment I was called away to do something important was the moment she was taken. The timing was too perfect. I tried stopping a death from happening, but was forced back from a mage that appeared out of nowhere. I tried stopping the war from happening. I tried convincing everyone, slowly, to my side. I tried to get...her to listen to me too. But..." He shakes his head. "No matter how hard I tried, how many times I twisted my words for anyone to listen..."
He turns back to Dimitri, for once his face showing a vulnerability the prince was unfamiliar with, green eyes full of sorrow and frustration.
"I tried to save you too, but you were far too gone in your rage to listen to me, no matter what logic or evidence I provided."
"It will be different this time."
"It won't." Dimitri grits his teeth at the surety of Claude's reply and the grim acceptance on his face. "Your rage will overpower you, and you'll lose yourself all over again. Every single time."
"How can you be so sure? Even if I don't completely remember, something has to be done." He can't just sit back and watch it all happen again.
Claude just sighs, stepping back from him. "Maybe it'll be easier to understand once you try it for yourself."
>>>
Dimitri tries. Goddess, he tries so hard to save them with what little memories of his past lives he remembers. He tries to grab the Lance of Ruin before it could swallow Miklan and turn him into a demonic beast, but ultimately fails when he's pushed back by numerous bandits ambushing them.
He tries to stop Flayn from being kidnapped by warning Seteth to keep an eye on her and making sure she was in sight most of the time he was available. She's taken when Dimitri is distracted by Felix suddenly pestering him for a spar.
Jeralt's death hits hard when he fails to stop Monica from driving that cursed dagger into the man's back. It hits Byleth even harder and Dimitri trembles with barely contained rage, trying not to think that maybe Claude was right.
The conflict in the Holy Tomb is what makes everything spiral from there.
Edelgard. The Flame Emperor is Edelgard. The betrayal stings like a thousand daggers in his chest because it's… Edelgard? That stern but kind little girl from Dimitri's childhood that taught him to dance is the same person responsible for the death of his loved ones?
Logically, someone who was so young at the time couldn't have possibly been the perpetrator of a mass murder, but Dimitri's rage settles in his mind like a fog, clouding his judgement and he finds himself smiling when he easily breaks the neck of an imperial soldier in the way.
War is declared and the Professor goes missing. Dimitri returns to the Kingdom and, surprisingly, does not get imprisoned by Cornelia as he was in the last two lives. Instead, he is crowned king and swears fealty to the Church of Seiros as they prepare for war.
Five years pass, and Dimitri now kneels before his step-sister in Tailtean Plains, the axe against his throat reminiscent of the mock battle in their youth. This time, Edelgard does not ask him to yield. This time, she raises her weapon with the intent to kill.
"To the fires of eternity with you...El..." he coughs out, closing his eyes in defeat.
His death this time is swift, nothing but emptiness and darkness to greet him once Edelgard swings.
He knows that’s not the end of it.
Time—
<<<
Dimitri remembers now, everything that has happened in the past lives he had lived.
Seeing Edelgard once again in the forestry with him and Claude jars him, and he forces himself not to lash out at her from instinct alone.
Instead, he turns to Claude with the intent to speak but the brunette only shakes his head, gesturing at the bushes around them. Before long, bandits ambush them and force all three of them to flee to Remire Village.
They return to the monastery and Byleth chooses the Blue Lions once again.
"So...it's the Professor's choice that affects our fates."
Claude nods, pouring chamomile tea into both their cups. “Each house leads to a different ending. It's weird how that works, but everything that happens revolves around Teach and his choice."
"Can't we talk to him about," Dimitri gestures to the both of them, "all of this? Surely he would be able to understand." Surely, he would want to help them escape from it all. Right?
Claude shakes his head. "He may be the center of these time loops, but that doesn't mean he would be willing to help us end them."
Dimitri frowns at his reply. "Have you talked to the Professor already?"
The brunette gives him a sharp grin, devoid of pleasure. That alone gives Dimitri his answer.
_
"Dimitri. May I speak with you?" The blonde stops, reluctantly turning to face the owner of the voice.
"Edelgard. Of course you can. How may I assist you?" Dimitri cringes inwardly, noticing his stilted voice. He has never been good at hiding his true feelings.
Still, it's not often he is sought out by the princess herself. What is even more confusing is the absence of Hubert by her side.
Edelgard crosses her arms, lips upturned into a frown. "Have I done something to aggravate you? While we may have never been particularly close, I've noticed how you always seem to glare at me, or avoid me ever since we came back from Remire Village."
Dimitri's resists the urge to reach up and lightly touch his neck. The memory of Edelgard standing above him, swinging her axe and ending his life remains fresh in his mind like a brand. The chill of his numerous deaths have never left him, as if it had seeped into his flesh and ingrained itself deep into his bones.
However, it isn't quite these reasons that are the cause of his ire. Dimitri vaguely wonders what Edelgard would do if she remembers the atrocities that had happened from the war she had wrought.
She would most likely do it all over again, if it meant achieving her goal, Dimitri thinks to himself bitterly.
Strangely enough, the ghosts that normally scream at him are silent this time, merely watching. They don't command him to kill the will-be killer in front of him despite knowing that she is working with those responsible for the Tragedy of Duscur.
His mind is much more clear, now that his ghosts aren't pressing against his mind with snarled words and harsh whispers.
"You haven't done anything of the sort," Dimitri replies. Not yet at least, his mind supplies. "I apologize if I have done anything that made you think otherwise. It will not happen again."
Edelgard seems to accept that answer for now, and the two dissolve into small talk for a while before they part ways.
With his back turned to Edelgard, Dimitri walks forward with a straighter back and resolve strengthening within him.
>>><<<>>><<<
Dimitri loses count of the number of lifetimes or loops they go through. Despite his best attempts, no matter what they did, fate would always set them back on the original path of war and destruction.
But through it all, Claude would be by his side.
Dimitri witnesses firsthand the love and care the brunette has for his Golden Deer, the pain of seeing them fall in battle so raw and clear on his face. He sees the ambition and determination of Claude, working tirelessly to save as many lives as possible on the battlefield.
Despite how many lifetimes they've been through, how many wars have killed their friends, Claude never let that stop him from trying to find a way to stop this cruel cycle.
Dimitri admires that about him. His passion burns bright like the sun, and Dimitri yearns to step into his light but fears he doesn't belong. Instead, he helps him as much as he can in each and every loop. Even with the rage and the ghosts attempting to fog his mind, he does what he can to minimize deaths in the battlefield.
Even so, Claude is only human.
_
“It’s unfair,” Claude says one day when they’re spending time in the library late into the night.
Dimitri pauses his reading, closing his book and turning his body to face the brunette fully. “What is?”
The Golden Deer house leader only sighs, leaning back with his hands behind his head. He doesn't respond for a long time, lips twitching into a slight frown.
Dimitri inches his chair closer to him, giving into the urge to brush Claude's braid from his face and successfully grabbing his attention.
"What's unfair?" he asks, eyes locking with Claude's surprised green ones.
The Golden Deer house leader's bottom lip wobbles, and he looks away with an unreadable expression.
"Back then, you extended an ear to listen to everything that burdened me. Allow me to offer you the same." Dimitri gently grabs one of Claude's hands, squeezing lightly to get the brunette to look at him once more.
Eventually, Claude does. His expression is still guarded, a frown still tugging at his lips.
When Claude speaks, his voice is so quiet Dimitri has to strain his ears to hear. “Everything that's happening to us. The time loops. Your fate. You die three times out of four whereas I survive most of the time. While you die either on the fields of Gronder or the Tailtean Plains, I live out the rest of my life, either achieving my dreams or wasting away and regretting the actions I could have taken to save more lives."
"Claude—"
"And Teach...he has his own goals. Are we forever doomed to live out these loops in an endless cycle of life and death?" Claude grits his teeth in barely-concealed frustration. "No matter how many lives we save, how many times we save our friends— it ends the same way. And then we start again. And again, and again, and again—" He cuts himself off, steadying his increased breathing.
Dimitri is silent for a time, before he starts to speak. "I talked to Felix earlier today."
Claude looks at him, questioningly.
"It was actually rather difficult, at first, to get him to willingly have a conversation with me." A bitter chuckle leaves him, and he pushes on but looks away. "My actions in the past have hurt people, so much more than I realize. But I spoke with Felix, and we managed to resolve the problems that had torn apart our bond."
When he looks back up to Claude, the brunette's green eyes are softened. "I'm glad you two made up in this loop already. He'd always expressed how he hated your guts at this age."
Dimitri snorts. "Indeed. In any case, I just wanted to say that because I-we, were given a chance to remember it all, I was able to see Felix finally reveal his true emotions to me before the war. Before I...became that wretched beast once more."
Claude is silent, lips pursed in hesitance.
"Even if it was only temporary, that everything that had happened in the loop will end and restart anew..." Dimitri gently cradles Claude's hands, still in his grip. "These memories will never fade. Times of laughter, of peace, of reconciliations, all of it will forever be remembered by us. While I do not know how many lifetimes we will go through, or what the Professor's goal is, I think it's worth it. The bonds we forge and strengthen with our own hands, the smiles that we fight for, all of it is worth dying a thousand times over."
Claude's face scrunches up, as if he was about to cry. Still, Dimitri continues.
"These memories, these lifetimes, all of the deaths we've witnessed...they are all heavy burdens. At times I, too, start to question the reasons I get out of bed each day. But with you by my side, I feel like I can continue living and dying if it means we go through it all," he smiles, soft and true, "together."
The brunette lets out a laugh that sounds more like a sob and Claude grips Dimitri's hand tighter with one hand, the other reaching up to tug Dimitri's head closer to him. Their foreheads gently touch, and Dimitri's breath catches when he sees Claude smile widely and genuinely, open and so, so different from the carefully crafted smiles he normally shows everyone else.
"Together," Claude breathes out, and Dimitri's heart threatens to burst from happiness at the brunette's affirmation.
Their stories start with the world's cruelty ingraining itself into their flesh, tragedy marring their pasts. Alone, they might have buckled under the weight of the world, paths separated from a single choice made by a certain mercenary.
Together, their stories intertwine and become a single path that just might end differently from the fates they were unjustly given.