Chapter Text
“I don’t think I need to tell you two why you’re in trouble.”
Lady Rhea’s voice was always so eerily calm, so level except when she needed to change it to fit the situation.
Now, it teetered just on the edge of rage, but just subtle enough to keep Dimitri on his toes.
Yes, he knew well why he was in trouble, and he was wrestling with his own burgeoning regret.
He didn’t know why he did it, he didn’t know how he allowed his facade to slip so much that his fist connected with Felix’s face, or how he allowed Felix’s foot to connect with his stomach.
He started it , was Dimitri’s immediate thought, but he knew well enough that the blue-haired boy was thinking the exact same thing.
All he knew was that they were in the courtyard speaking, rather arguing, and then one of them made some comment that ticked the other off, and it was all downhill from there.
The incident in Remire had put a match to the spilled oil of his mind, setting it aflame.
If he was a Boar before, then . . .
The next thing they knew their classmates were crowding around them, imploring them to stop. Ingrid had tried to separate them, but was held back by a surprisingly neutral Sylvain. Then, of course, the commotion had caught the attention of Seteth, or perhaps some bystander had gone and snitched on them.
Either way, one thing led to another and some knights were prying them apart and, on Seteth’s direction, hauling them up to the Archbishop’s office.
And there they sat, covered in scratches, bruises, and noses full of blood just beginning to dry.
“No, Lady Rhea,” Dimitri replied, flexing his hands slightly, feeling how the wounds covering his fists stung at the motion.
The Archbishop looked down at them, because she always appeared to be looking down on everyone, and began tapping a finger on her desk.
“The Crown Prince of Faerghus getting in a brawl with the next Duke Fraldarius,” Lady Rhea leaned back into her seat, the ornaments on her headdress jingling lightly with the motion. “If you weren’t sitting right in front of me, covered in injuries, I would have thought it a lie.”
Felix sighed from beside him. “We’re very sorry, Lady Rhea. It was very unbecoming of us. We apologize for causing a commotion.”
Dimitri would have laughed were it not for the situation. To see his once-closest-friend try to kiss the boots of the Archbishop to get them out of punishment . . . it was almost as if he cared.
Almost.
Lady Rhea raised an eyebrow. “Oh are you now?”
Seteth let out a huff from his place behind the Archbishop. “You didn’t seem very sorry when we arrived on the scene, or all the other times you’ve been seen hitting too hard in the training grounds, or overheard arguing in the middle of lessons.”
Dimitri looked down at his lap, a hot, shameful flush covering his cheeks.
“My apologies. I know well that my lack of self-restraint is a bane that I must overcome. I am deeply sorry for the incidents that I have caused as a result of my shortcomings.” The words fell from Dimitri’s lips like molasses from a jar. That is to say, not so easily.
Because he was still so angry .
“I’m sure that you are,” Lady Rhea said, shuffling some of the papers on her desk and jotting down a few words on each. “And that is why I believe I have found a worthy punishment.”
Dimitri and Felix both lifted their heads at this, holding their breaths in anticipation of what was to come.
The Archbishop handed some of the papers to Seteth, who looked them over a couple of times before turning to her.
“Are you certain, Lady Rhea?” he asked, just the barest hint of hesitation in his voice.
“Yes, I am certain,” The Archbishop responded before standing and addressing the two boys.
She took a deep breath before continuing. “For the next two weeks you will be removed from classes and instead take up a temporary residence in the abbey. You’ll join the monks and nuns in their various duties, including upkeep of the grounds, daily worship, and you will even be expected to take up a vow of silence.”
Felix, who had been leaning back with his arms crossed, now jolted up in his seat. “You can’t be kidding?” he asked incredulously.
On this, Dimitri could agree.
Lady Rhea narrowed her eyes. “Would you like to make it three weeks?”
With all the poise of a newborn deer, Felix clamped his mouth shut and shook his head stiffly, standing down.
The Archbishop’s eyes flicked to Dimitri, who withered beneath her gaze.
“Your Professor will deliver lessons to you, and you will be allowed to practice lance and sword forms, but that is all. You otherwise won’t be allowed contact with the outside, unless specifically condoned by your duties or an elder,” she said, then nodded to Seteth. “My hope is that through this punishment you shall learn the virtue of restraint . Just because you are heirs to a Kingdom does not mean I take insolence lightly,” LadyRhea then rose an arm to gesture to the door. “Seteth will see you out and escort you down to the abbey. May the Goddess be always with you.”
Pain shot up through his body, and Dimitri could not help but wince as he and Felix rose to follow Seteth out of the room and into the hallway.
Seteth, apparently trusting them enough now to follow him, simply skimmed through the papers in his hand as he walked. He rambled off some more rules to them, mostly the basics.
No eating unless told, no disobeying orders, no skipping out on duties,
No fighting, of course,
And under absolutely no circumstances should they open their mouths and speak.
Well, “One shall not raise blade nor word against the Goddess, for this is a sin,” but that was essentially the same thing. While this was a basic rule for all faithful Church followers in Fodlan, the monks and nuns down at the abbey took this to the extreme, and often chose to undertake their own vow of silence.
It was a long walk down the path to the abbey.
Dimitri ached the longer they went on, the adrenaline from the fight now gone. Not even the power of his Crest was going to help him now.
It brought him some strange comfort that Felix was also noticeably limping.
Oh wait, I suppose that is my fault . . .
And then,
No, it's his fault! He was the one who started it!
But did the punch or the kick start it all? Who was the first to gnash their teeth, bare their fangs?
Who was the first to take the carcass of their friendship and bury it in the ground? Six feet under where it belonged?
Either answer to that question scared him.
_____
The sun was slowly dipping below the horizon when they approached the gated entrance to the abbey.
It was a simple building, rather fitting really, made of dark brick and stone. It was more tall than it was wide, seeing as it had to fit beneath the foothills of the nearby mountain ranges. A monk stood vigil at the gate, and he nodded to Seteth as they approached.
The monk then looked at the pair of boys, then back at Seteth in a silent question.
“I seek an audience with the abbess,” was all the advisor said.
The monk, although with the hint of a crease in his brow, nonetheless opened the gates to allow them entrance.
Seteth bowed to the monk, gave him a subdued “The Goddess be with you,” then continued to lead the boys towards the building, and eventually inside.
It was chilled, but not as uncomfortably so as its appearance may suggest.
A young nun was lighting the candles on the walls of the hallways as the three of them entered. When she caught sight of them, she let out a short gasp and swiftly turned and walked down the other way.
Seteth, unbothered by this occurrence, stood at a stop just outside of a plain looking wooden door, though the small plaque on the outside signaled its true purpose.
‘ Abbot’s Office ’
Perhaps in an act of charity, Seteth spared them both a look. “I hope you two are prepared for this,” then raised his hand to rap his knuckles on the wood.
It echoed. Well, maybe it only seemed to be in the dim light of the hallway. That all too quiet hallway, it felt as though it was slowly closing in on Dimitri, like it may crush him if he didn’t run away.
He couldn’t run away. This was his punishment. Their punishment.
A moment later, a modestly covered woman answered the door.
“Seteth?” she asked, an eyebrow quirked.
“Sister Lorna,” the advisor responded. “I’m happy to see that you are doing well.”
“The Goddess is generous in her blessings,” the abbess said. “But . . . might I ask why you are here? We weren’t expecting a visit at this time.”
Seteth neatened the pile of documents in his arms and held them out for the woman to take. “Lady Rhea has requested that these two boys spend time here as repentance for their misdeeds.”
At this, Sister Lorna looked the two students up and down, taking in their disheveled appearances.
Dimitri did his best not to shy away.
“I see. And whatever are they repenting for?” she questioned.
“They got into a scuffle on the green. That, and multiple other minor infractions that have impeded on the peaceful nature of the Academy,” Seteth responded.
Felix scoffed, a small sound only Dimitri heard because of course it was a sound he had become quite familiar with over the years.
“Well that is no good at all then,” Sister Lorna waved the boys into the room. “I’ll look over these then and get them settled in.”
“Good. Naturally I will be stopping in for regular updates on their progress, but I have full faith that you will have it all handled,” Seteth again gave them one last look. “I expect you boys to be on your best behavior. If you slip up, we may have to think of some more . . . drastic punishment.”
And with those ominous words, the advisor was gone, and the wooden door shut tight behind them.
The abbess told them to sit at her desk as she made her way over to her own chair.
They were simple wooden chairs, cold and hard on Dimitri’s aching bones.
Sister Lorna shuffled through the papers, and her eyes blew up to the size of plates.
“I knew by your cape that you were a house leader, but I had no idea that you were the Crown Prince!” she exclaimed, flipping to the next paper. “And the Duke Fraldarius’s son! Oh my,” she let out a deep sigh as she set the small stack on her desk. “We’ve had some wayward students sent our way in the past, but . . . oh dear.”
Dimitri just looked down at the ground. He was a prince, he should have held his chin high and accepted the punishment with a straight back, but shame had wormed its way into every crevice of his body now.
And anger.
Yes, quite a bit of that.
“I hope you know that just because you boys are important to the nobility, does not mean that things will be easy for you here,” the abbess warned.
Dimitri shook his head. “Of course. We understand.”
Felix, for his part, nodded along with his words.
At least for this part, they would be on the same side.
Sister Lorna, apparently pleased with their words, stood from her desk and opened a small closet in the corner. “I’m sure that Seteth gave you the rundown, and tomorrow you’ll learn the routine and duties expected of you, but for now have this,” She reached out two pairs of plain monk’s clothing, a simple off-white tunic and matching pants. She handed one set to each of the boys before sitting down once more.
“Before you boys leave, you’ll have to take your vows of silence now,” Sister Lorna clasped her hands on the wooden desk and stared them both down. “Just because your stay here is temporary does not mean that you should take this any less seriously. In fact, judging by your files and appearances, I daresay you have a lot to learn from this experience,” she closed her eyes, imploring both boys to do the same. “Now, repeat after me,”
Dimitri and Felix dipped their heads down to comply with the demands.
Sister Lorna led them in a short prayer, a vow detailing one's wishes to raise neither blade nor word against the Goddess or any of her children, and to dedicate my life to glorify Her name, and let her light shine upon this world like the Blue Sea Star in autumn.
Dimitri clenched the clothes in his hands, feeling the weight of his words settle over him.
And then that last phrase, Praise be to the Mother of land and of life. Praise be to the Goddess.
It was done.
When he opened his eyes at last, he found Felix to be in a similar state of barely concealed wariness at their newfound condition.
Sister Lorna looked up at the ceiling, perhaps to the Goddess, then back at them. “I’ll show you two to your room where you’ll be staying with some of the other monks. There you will have the chance to change, drop off your clothes to me, and then gather in the dining hall for some food.”
Nodding silently, Dimitri and Felix followed her out and back down the hall, the girl from earlier nowhere to be found. They were led to a medium sized room with about six beds, where they changed while pointedly not looking at one another, then handed their old clothes to the abbess when they were back outside.
Sister Lorna bowed in thanks, then led them once more down the way to a modest sized dining hall, many others already seated at the table. They sat down on a couple of open chairs at the end of the table, earning some confused stares from some of the others around them.
But Dimitri couldn’t focus on that. All he could do was focus on getting through this first night, and then the thirteen other nights after that.
Once the rest of the residents had gathered, they all bowed in wordless prayer, and received their meals.
It was not unlike the dining hall up in the main part of the monastery, if a little simpler. That night it was mashed potatoes and cooked salmon with a side of roasted carrots. Dimitri could not attest to its taste, but by the look on Felix’s face it couldn’t have been that bad. Now whether or not he would be able to down it all, that was another story.
Felix sent him side-eyed glares every so often. Dimitri did his best to ignore them, afraid of the ire he’d find there.
No, if he was going to keep himself sane, the best course of action would simply be to meet his eye as little as possible.
And so they ate, Dimitri managing to eat more than he’d thought, and helped gather up the dishes with the rest of the abbey residents. Some gave them small smiles or short nods, while some simply ignored them. After all, they did not know who they truly were, only that they’d shown up out of nowhere already having taken a vow of silence, something that usually only happened once someone had been there for at least a year or so.
No matter, Dimitri had taken worse things in stride.
By the time the dining room was cleaned up the moon was already high in the sky. Dimitri, Felix and the rest were ushered into the nearby worshiping hall. A statue of Saint Seiros stood proudly in the front, and behind her was a stained glass portrait of, if his history lessons were to be remembered correctly, a depiction of her victory at Tailtean. An odd piece for a place of idle worship, but then again what did he know of such things?
One of the nuns settled in at the piano and began playing a gentle, almost somber tune.
Had Dimitri the capacity to feel such emotions . . . perhaps he might have felt peaceful. Relaxed.
And he did try to let the calm wash over him, as much as he could. He let his head dip forward, his hands clasp gently in his lap mostly just to follow the lead of those surrounding him.
He tried to let the Goddess into his heart. Tried.
Not long after the service had begun, he heard a faint tapping from his left.
It was almost imperceptible, so much so that he’d originally planned to just ignore it. That is, until it grew just a smidgen louder, and after that Dimitri realized that it was a pattern.
Not just any pattern though, it was a series of long and short taps, components that Dimitri had learned when he’d first begun his training, taught by his own father.
Morse Code.
Once he knew this, his eyes cracked open to look at Felix.
To be fair, he was doing a good enough job of staying inconspicuous. His head was still bowed, his eyes closed and hands clasped tightly on his thighs.
But his leg was bouncing, his boot hitting the floor in rhythmic movements.
Now Dimitri understood what was happening.
F-U-C-K-Y-O-U
B-O-A-R
F-U-C-K-Y-O-
The sound of an elder monk clearing his throat stirred them both from their trance, and Felix pulled his leg to a harsh stop, ceasing his movements.
Though he could not see Dimitri’s glare, he’d hoped that the swordsman had felt it.
Inconsiderate. Selfish Prick. Tactless, inconsiderate, uncharitable, disrespectful bastard!
The insults bubbled up in his mind before he could stop them.
The urge to respond in kind was palpable, but Dimitri needed to reign himself in before making things worse for himself. For them both.
But would it really be so unwarranted?
After all, he’d started it all-
That smug little shit -
Oh, Goddess he was angry today, wasn’t he?
. . . Was that really so out of character, though?
Just like earlier, blood pounded in his ears until he could hardly hear the music anymore. Dimitri’s thoughts muddled together, mixing until it was a cacophony of noise in his head.
Another setback.
His goal was now further than ever.
Such a silly, immature predicament.
Foolish.
Arrogant.
Unworthy.
Callous .
Weak.
Weak.
Weak weak weak weak weak weak weakweakweakWEAK WEAK!
A loud bell tolled from the other side of the abbey.
Dimitri’s palms were sweating, his fists having clenched in his carelessness. He had to force the muscles in his body to relax, easing himself back into something resembling contentment.
His eyes found Felix’s, and the shorter boy only snorted at his bewildered expression before standing with the rest of the abbey residents to retire for bed.
Right. That was where he was.
But even as he rose to follow, he could not help but golden hair much like his flash across his periphery, the glint of a steel blade covered in blood, the embers of raging flames threatening to sting his eyes-
Before he’d even realized he found himself back in the room he would share with Felix, now with the other four occupants present.
The four others, boys similar in age to them but carrying themselves quite differently, all retreated beneath the sheets on their beds. All while, as expected, not sharing a single word between themselves.
Amber eyes bore into his skull from behind, Dimitri knew it, but he too burrowed into his bed before giving himself the chance to respond.
He didn’t know if he would get any sleep that night. If he did, that would be nothing short of a miracle.
Even so, he shut his eyes and laid down facing the wall, an uncomfortable chill settling into his bones.
And then, most likely as one last act of defiance before the day was through, there was the shallow tap of a knuckle on a wooden bed post.
B-O-A-R