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Winter had arrived late this year. The skies had been grey and overcast for weeks until, at last, the first snowfall came in dramatic fashion — a heavy storm that kept Dimitri and Byleth indoors the whole day. It was almost midnight by the time it passed, but Byleth had still insisted they leave the warmth of their cottage to walk through the woods.
The moon hung full in the sky above them, its pale light making the freshly fallen snow twinkle like starlight. The forest was still without even a breeze stirring. Byleth walked at his side, her light gait almost silent amidst the trees. Her breath misted in the icy air and yet she appeared unbothered by the cold. Instead, her bright green eyes were searching the white expanse, though for what, Dimitri had no idea.
After almost an hour of silence, abruptly Byleth came to a stop.
“I think it was here,” she said, apropos of nothing.
“What was here?” Dimitri asked curiously. To his eye, the barren trees here looked much the same as the last.
“This is where we first met,” Byleth said. Her tone was fond, though underscored by a trace of sadness. “It has already been a year since then. It feels so much shorter than that.”
“I feel the same,” Dimitri agreed thoughtfully. The days had passed in a blur since she had been by his side. Even the heat of summer had not felt so oppressive this year. All because of her.
“That night…” Byleth went on, her expression turning bittersweet. “I was so angry back then. All I knew was hate.”
“Yes. I heard your voice in the darkness… All your pain and heartbreak.” Dimitri stepped closer, cupping her cold cheek with his hand. “I wanted to steal you away.” He had come to her as a monster that night, offering a trap in the guise of a deal. However, even injured and scared in the snow, Byleth had met his eyes without flinching; she had never turned away from him, not even once, not even when he thought she should have.
“I’m grateful you did. Truly," Byleth said, turning to press a kiss against his palm.
“I’m the one who should be grateful, Byleth," Dimitri said honestly. "Before you came along, I was dying. Eroding slowly, year by year. You reminded me of what it was like to live.” He softened, as much in awe of the woman before him as the first time. “You saved me.” Byleth’s answering smile was slow and beautiful like a winter rose unfurling.
Suddenly, Dimitri found himself struck by a whimsical idea. Something in the moonlight reminded him of old times, times which he had thought lost forever. With a grand, sweeping gesture, he bowed before her with one clawed hand outstretched.
“Will you grant me a dance, beloved?” Dimitri asked with all the grace he could summon.
“A dance?” Byleth’s mouth twitched with a smile. “I didn’t grow up noble like you did. I don’t know the first thing about dancing.” He shook his head with a smile.
“I do not mean a dance like the humans do. I mean…” He paused, trying to find the words. Byleth lay her hand in his, ever warm and trusting.
“Show me, then.”
Dimitri led her by the hand to the centre of the clearing. Hands pressed together palm to palm, they circled one another, Dimitri moving with slow deliberation so that Byleth might follow. They mirrored one another in silence, every sway of their arms and every step of their feet matched. At times, they separated, pulling away from one another, but always they returned to each other’s arms, eyes fixed unwaveringly.
As the dance went on, the snow began to fall again, gentler this time, settling on the crown of Byleth’s head and catching on her eyelashes. Her tinkling laughter filled the air, lovelier than any music; even in the frozen night, the air grew warmer at the sound. The stars could have been falling from the sky and Dimitri would not have looked away from her for anything.
Their steps grew faster and lighter, as if their feet were simply skimming the surface of the snow. Soon it was Dimitri keeping to her time, pulled along effortlessly by her lively heart. They spun around the clearing and the world around them grew hushed, as if it too were watching this moment with held breath. This was how the oldest spells had been formed, he thought to himself: without words, spoken with body and soul.
Eventually, the dance slowed, their fervent joy easing into something softer. When at last it ended, they simply held each other close, hearts pounding in tandem. Dimitri bent his head towards her; Byleth’s lips were sweet, warming him from within.
“Take me home, beloved,” she murmured when they parted and Dimitri did not hesitate.
He swept her up into his arms and the strains of their joined laughter rose high in the night. Together, they made the journey back to their warm fireside, to their bed, to home.