Work Text:
Claude felt eyes on him. They weren’t exactly subtle about it, and if Claude turned his head he bet he could see exactly who was staring at him. Instead, he sighed, dropping his shoulders as he spoke, “you can come out,” to the air around him.
(Claude had been in Askr a long while at this point, and while he hurt , he’d also become more…trusting of his allies—more open— all due to the kindness of those heroes around him. He wasn’t healed, not by a long shot, but he was starting to get there.)
Claude turned after speaking, just in time to catch a red—or blue?—blur running towards him. He barely had time to blink before the blur—red and blue, huh—materialised in front of him as a fellow hero, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him, hands clasped together in excitement.
“My apologies! I didn’t mean to stare, you just look so much like one of the emblems I encountered back in Lythos.” Seeming to realise herself, she took a step back, coughing into a hand before averting her gaze. “I didn’t mean to get so excited, I was simply curious. My apologies again.”
“Emblems, huh?” he found himself asking, interest piqued.
“Ah, yes. The Emblem of Rivals, to be exact.” Her explanation did not make anything clearer for Claude. “Emblems in my world…they fought alongside us to help us against the fell dragon. You look remarkably similar to…” she trailed off, face scrunching up as she looked past Claude’s shoulder.
Before Claude could turn to see what had stopped the girl, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking towards the hand, he saw Dimitri— King Dimitri, that is, who had become one of his best allies in this barely-known realm.
“You… both look so similar. Wow. I’m sorry for my behaviour, but may I have your names?” The girl looked flustered, rushing to bow as though only just remembering her manners. “I am Alear, the Divine Dragon in my home world. I truly do mean my apologies, I am still not used to being awake.”
Claude was definitely going to ask about that later.
“No harm done,” he started with. Best not to overwhelm Alear when she already seemed out of it. “The name’s Claude von Riegan.”
At this point, Alear seemed ready to burst, but she kept herself calm as she looked toward Dimitri. The king startled, suddenly brought into a conversation he had not been a part of.
“Ah, I am Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.” The hand on Claude’s shoulder disappeared as Dimitri bowed, and did not return. Claude couldn’t help the disappointment fluttering through his chest.
(The fallen Dimitri— his Dimitri—was getting better, he truly was. He could let Claude into his space without threatening his life, he’d let Claude hold his hand on numerous occasions, and he sometimes— rarely— sought out Claude if he felt he needed someone with him. But, still, there was that look of guilt settling almost permanently in his eye whenever he regarded Claude, and he rarely left his assigned quarters outside of mission assignments. He was better , but still far from good, and it hurt Claude’s heart whenever he realised this. He loved— still loves— Dimitri, any version of Dimitri, and will take anything he can get.)
“You are! ” Alear was bouncing on her heels on barely-contained excitement. “You’ve both grown so much compared to your emblem selves. I’m honoured to meet you both like this.” She bowed again, eyes sparkling as she regarded them.
“Our—emblems, you say?” Dimitri askedz
“Yes, allies who fought by my side in my own world.” Alear looked like she was going to pass out from excitement. “ Oh , I have to know everything that happened to you both—oh! And Edelgard, too.”
Had Claude not been so aware of everything Dimitri , he might have missed the way he tensed, slightly, briefly, before he returned to normal.
(If Claude was slowly healing after everything, he can hardly imagine how Dimitri is faring, having already once come back from insanity. They say exposure therapy works , but is it really helping everything Dimitri still has to unpack?)
“In my world, you were all housed in a single bracelet, unlike most emblems,” Alear was continuing, oblivious to the tension Dimitri was actively battling to keep out of his body. “I suppose being called the emblem of rivals is pretty self explanatory, but you all got along well enough, considering you only had each other to talk to for what was probably a long time. Are you…do you all still talk?”
Alear…she looked so genuine , so hopeful about the information she asked for. She was just curious, Claude reminded himself. He should be gentle.
“You might…” he started, letting out a small sigh. “You might not like our stories. None of them are…the most pleasant.”
“Claude and I are married.”
The look Alear gave them was indecipherable.
“That doesn’t…that doesn’t seem unpleasant.”
“Not us ,” Claude elaborated. “We’re from different timelines. The Dimitri from my timeline, well, he died before we had the chance at a future.”
“ My Claude and I fought together in our war. We killed Edelgard together.” Dimitri’s voice was steady, but his hands were shaking. “We got married after the war.”
“I killed Edelgard myself,” Claude added. “And if you ask Edelgard when you find her, she’ll tell you she killed the both of us.”
Alear looked ready to cry. So much for gentle .
“Our lives were not so simple, and certainly not something we can explain in a random hallway.” Alear nodded, facing Claude with a determined look.
“I want to learn more, eventually, if you’ll let me,” she spoke, no longer on the edge of tears. “Some other time, that is. There’s so much I want to learn, but I won’t keep you! Thank you for speaking with me!”
Alear did not wait for a response, already turning and running in the opposite direction to them. Claude didn’t know what to think of her.
“She was…nice,” Dimitri spoke, prompting a short laugh from Claude. “I wonder what we were like in her world.”
“I wonder.”
Claude looked at their hands, next to each other but not touching. Claude and I are married , he’d said, but he hadn’t meant any version of Claude present in Askr. The others were all too young. Claude, king of Almyra, and Dimitri, king of Faerghus, summoned nearly back-to-back, and yet they were not each other’s.
Underneath Dimitri’s gauntlet sat a wedding ring, nice and modest, the other half belonging to a Claude that wasn’t here . And Claude, bare of any claim his Dimitri could have laid, but not entirely alone. His Dimitri present, but barely sane.
They truly made a pair, didn’t they?
“I need to leave,” Claude said suddenly. Or not suddenly, following his thoughts. “I need to—I miss him—I’m sorry, you’re him but you’re also not and it’s driving me mad.”
Dimitri merely nodded, sad smile on his face. Surely he had the same feelings, but had no Claude to visit to remedy them. It was awful to think about.
So Claude didn’t, simply said his goodbyes and left.
(And when Claude creeps into Dimitri’s— his Dimitri’s, his— quarters, the room was as dark as could be, with Dimitri fast asleep under his covers. It was really a testament to their re-developing relationship that Dimitri had not locked his doors, knowing that while he rarely sought Claude out himself, there were times when Claude needed to see or feel him, to know he was still there.
As Claude approached his bed, he felt his heart leap in his chest. Here, like this, Dimitri looked…somewhat peaceful . He was looking more and more like king Dimitri was, less angry at the world and less like he was seconds away from tearing someone apart. Maybe someday, if his Dimitri remembered, if he got a second chance when returning back to Fódlan, he wouldn’t make the same mistakes that he was fated to make. Maybe Claude’s memories, filled with grief for the man he loved and haunted by thoughts of ‘ what if ’, would be replaced with those of a happier reunion, of holding Dimitri after Grondr alive and breathing, and defeating the empire together , without even a remnant of what he experienced.
Maybe one day Claude will sport a ring or two, similar to those on king Dimitri’s finger. Maybe he’ll have a future not plagued by heartache, one where he doesn’t spend every day wishing he could move on from the one who had captured his heart all those years prior.
And yet, even if those maybes did not come to pass, Claude was content as he is now. He can—and does— run a hand through Dimitri’s hair, still slightly knotted despite Claude’s tireless attempts to clean him up. He holds Dimitri’s hand, grip tight as he believes he can go without waking his beloved. He can watch. He can worm his way onto the bed and Dimitri, even in his sleep, will move over to make room.
They are not entirely alright, and Dimitri’s bad days far outnumber his good, or even his alright , but Claude will be patient. This was the man he knew, from academy days until his harsh demise. He will take whatever extra time is given to him. And he will wait, no matter how long it takes to get to call Dimitri his in every sense of the word, not just his timeline .
Because Claude loved Dimitri, every version of Dimitri, but he loved his Dimitri the most . And perhaps he will never love another even half as much, but Claude cannot find a single problem in that.
Dimitri is his and he is Dimitri’s.)