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“Rule number one: No using weapons or magic on anyone!” Annette declared, one hand resting on her hip while the other one pointed high in the air.
Dimitri looked across the circle of Blue Lions to Byleth, who was unsheathing and sheathing the Sword of the Creator oddly contemplatively. His eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“Rule number two!” Annette’s voice jerked Dimitri back to attention as a second finger joined her first one in the air. “Only attack people with snow. Not icicles, rocks that look like snowballs, or anything else not soft and made of frozen water from the sky!”
Annette leered at Sylvain in particular for a while, who whistled like a school boy and looked away coyly. That rule was oddly specific, but Dimitri dared not to ask for clarification.
“Rule number three: Absolutely no fatalities, and keep injuries minimal. If you maim someone, then I’m going to maim you!” Annette barked at the Blue Lions, three fingers pointed in the air. “Even if it’s accidental,” she added carefully as her glare rested upon Dimitri.
Dimitri averted his eye as he suddenly felt rather warm, despite the below-freezing temperature. If Annette had not been so small in stature, Dimitri might have found her to be rather intimidating. Who knew a game in the snow could be so perilous?
“We get it, Annie. It’s a snowball fight, not a war,” Ingrid groaned and wrapped her arm around Annette’s lowered arm playfully.
Annette dropped her drill sergeant alter ego and cheered, “Indeed, so let’s pick team captains!”
Dimitri nodded, silently grateful to Ingrid for taking the spotlight off him for a mom—
“We should make Dimitri and Professor team captains!” Flayn beamed, her green locks bouncing as she hopped in the snow like a Fhirdiad hare.
Maybe this was not going to be the relaxing, carefree romp in the fresh, evening snow with friends that Dimitri was initially promised when Annette first approached him about it.
Dimitri swallowed harshly, straining to keep his face composed as the entire circle swiveled between him and Byleth at once. If he and Byleth were team captains, then that meant he would be on a team opposing his beloved wife. How could anyone fathom something so preposterous? Even as king, surely he was not expected to command a team under such extenuating circumstances.
Dimitri looked to Byleth for silent validation of his sentiment; however, her face was as passive as it was flawless. He could not detect a wrinkle of disapproval from her.
Now glancing nervously around the small group, Dimitri noted the thoughtful nods and indifferent shoulder shrugs as they quickly conferred. Drat, he did not expect his friends to agree so easily. Not even Dedue, his trusted retainer and confidante, seemed to notice his disquietude.
“Perhaps Annette should be team captain?” Dimitri suggested, his voice cracking at the end. Good grief, he was far too old for such boyish traits.
As everyone turned toward him again, he cleared his throat. “After all, Annette came up with this, er, pleasant idea,” the king clarified more steadily, trying a modest approach to his opposition.
Annette’s eyes sparkled with awe as she asked him carefully, “A-are you sure?” However, it was evident how badly she wanted the role. Better someone who was eager than him.
Dimitri smiled and started to relinquish his role, “Of course, you-”
“You think you can be a better team captain than the King of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus?” Sylvain snorted and pointed rather rudely at Annette, abruptly stopping Dimitri in his tracks.
Annette’s face resembled her fiery hair as she glowered, “I’d certainly be a better team captain than you, Sylvain!”
“Without a doubt,” Ingrid agreed, lightly elbowing Sylvain in the ribs to stop his snickering.
“Oof! Why am I suddenly being judged?” Sylvain griped as he shimmied away from Ingrid’s jabs.
“Because you don’t know how to keep your mouth shut,” Felix chided, rolling his eyes.
“So what, now you want to be captain?” Sylvain jeered.
“As if. I’m only here because Annette dragged me here,” Felix scoffed nonchalantly.
“Yet another reason why Annette is a viable candidate,” Flayn added matter-of-factly, squeezing her tiny frame between Felix and Sylvain. “Not many people can convince Felix to do anything.”
“I do what I want,” Felix scowled and fidgeted with his neck scarf as Mercedes and Flayn broke into a fit of giggles.
“Certainly, and you deserve a break from training every once in a while,” Ashe affirmed the swordsman. Was Felix pouting underneath his scarf?
Dimitri inhaled deeply through his nose, closing his eye as his friends debated around him. He did not plan for his simple suggestion to spark such a lively discussion. If he had not been the source of the conflict, he would have found this interaction to be rather youthful and amusing. But alas.
For everyone’s sake, perhaps he could tolerate this decision. Besides, it was merely a game with no tangible stakes. Long ago during his academy days, he had faced the professor many times head-to-head with much more weight on his shoulders and far more to lose. If he thought about this game as purely training, then it would be hardly different from—
“I volunteer to step down,” Byleth calmly announced as she raised her gloved hand in the air.
Huh?
Dimitri opened his eye, staring curiously at the professor. Breathtaking in the moonlight, but her face was still unreadable.
He held his breath, glancing around the Blue Lions once more as they contemplated.
Ingrid and Flayn gave Sylvain a look that said, ‘I told you so,’ causing Sylvain to once again squirm. But to Dimitri’s pleasant surprise, not a single person objected. Could it be so simple?
After all, that was the secret power of the professor. When she made a decision, it was with resounding confidence. It carried the Blue Lions through many decisive moments during the war, and it still remained true today.
“Then that settles it,” Dedue stated evenly, breaking the silence. “Annette and His Highness will be team captains,” he confirmed as he nodded toward Annette and Dimitri.
Dimitri exhaled, his breath dissipating into a cool wisp. Oh, thank goodness.
“So can we finally pick teams and move on?” Felix huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I will be on Annie’s team,” Mercedes volunteered, placing her mitted hand on Annette’s petite shoulder. Annette grinned and patted the cleric’s hand.
“Wait, shouldn’t we let the captains decide?” Ashe raised his hand somewhat, though he seemed unsure of his words.
Everyone, except Byleth, let out a collective groan of exasperation.
While the rest of the Blue Lions ganged up on Ashe, Byleth slipped around the energetic circle and settled by Dimitri’s left side, her gloved hand snaking around his cloaked bicep. Dimitri lowered his gaze to his wife and smiled gently.
“You saved me yet again,” he whispered as Ashe’s pleas for mercy droned in the background.
“I know,” Byleth replied, a faint smile finally curving her lips.
“Who knew a skilled group of generals who painstakingly defeated an entire empire and restored a kingdom could be so fickle?” Dimitri mused quietly.
“I knew,” Byleth replied, and Dimitri detected the faintest hint of playfulness in her voice.
“What else do you know, my beloved know-it-all?” Dimitri asked teasingly.
“I know that I will be your first teammate, and we will crush the opposition,” Byleth stated with familiar confidence.
“Whatever you say goes, co-captain,” Dimitri acknowledged good-naturedly.
“Anyone who is caught breaking the rules will be punished with Flayn’s cooking!” Dimitri overheard Annette announce, followed by another collective groan and one high-pitched holler of indignation.
“I think whatever Annette says goes,” Byleth commented dryly.
“Indeed, so best to not get caught,” Dimitri chuckled and gave Byleth a kiss on the forehead.
Dimitri began to wonder if Annette’s rule number three should have been tailored toward Byleth, rather than himself.
Though he would never admit this aloud, he quite enjoyed watching Byleth play rough.
Over the past few months, Byleth had truly stepped into her role as the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros. She had learned to become poised, articulate, and demure in her own respect. There was no one better suited to stand beside him as king and restore Fódlan to prosperity.
That being said, the woman who first caught Dimitri’s eye as a pining schoolboy was the fearless, tactical, and daresay silly professor who just finished thwacking Mercedes with snowballs point-blank to the chest. It did not seem injurious, but Byleth certainly was not going easy on the cleric.
Even in combat, she always looked so elegant.
The way her signature black cloak enveloped her slender shoulders. The strength hidden in her lean legs as she ran. The glow of her mint green locks framing her face in the moonlight. Simply put, she was beautiful.
Dimitri found himself inextricably drawn to her large-
“Pick up your jaw, Your Highness,” Dedue called out tersely as he suddenly blocked Dimitri’s view of his beautiful wife, forcefully deflecting a snowball sailing toward Dimitri’s chest with a punch.
Said king blinked comically, doing as he was told before hastily bending down to gather snow. “My apologies, Dedue,” he replied sheepishly as he returned enemy fire.
Right. Ogling a woman, even his wife, was not appropriate on the battlefield.
Though to be fair, this snowy expanse was far less hectic than a real battlefield. And for that, he was grateful.
Dimitri instead concentrated on not getting pummeled by Ingrid’s fastball or Annette’s oddly high lob. What the women lacked in brute strength, they certainly made up for it with vigor. Ingrid, in particular, was capable of releasing snowballs at an incredible pace.
As Dedue and Dimitri skirmished against Ingrid and Annette, Dimitri couldn’t help but notice Byleth sprinting into the woods adjacent to the snowy field. Felix and Sylvain were hot on her trail in pursuit.
Returning to his own scuffle, Dimitri threw another snowball at Ingrid, remembering not to wind up his arm fully while in close range.
Although he was careful not to stare at the professor for too long, his watchful liege still commented knowingly, “Go, I’ll handle these two.”
Dimitri smiled wistfully before flicking one more snowball in Annette’s direction. Honestly, what would he do without Dedue?
Without further reply, Dimitri retreated into the woods after Felix and Sylvain.
Despite his overwhelmingly large stature and limited eyesight, he was quite adept at stealth in the proper environment. His eye adjusted quickly to the dim light, and his body instantly crouched into a comfortable stance.
Strangely, a disconcerting wave of déjà vu rippled through him as he silently trailed Sylvain. Why did this situation feel so familiar, yet unnerving?
Well, he did spend an insufferable amount of years on the run and living off the land after Cornelia…
Dimitri settled into autopilot and allowed his feet to carry him over the snow and dense roots as quietly as possible.
By the time he caught up to the redhead, he could see from his hiding tree that the men had Byleth nearly backed into a corner with a well-timed pincer attack. Even the fastest warriors would struggle against this technique.
But to Dimitri’s utter pleasure, the professor showed them that she was still capable of schooling them.
Felix, being the faster melee fighter, closed the distance between himself and Byleth first. Just as he pounced, Byleth leaped sideways and unsheathed the Sword of the Creator. In one fell swoop, her extended sword grappled the tree branch above them, sending a heaping barrage of snow onto an unsuspecting Felix. The swordsman could only curse and raise his arms to protect his face in time as snow piled on him up to his knees.
Dimitri would have to ponder if she was breaking the rules later. For now, he sprung into action before Sylvain could recover his wits.
Grabbing a fresh handful of snow off the ground, Dimitri wound up his arm ever so slightly to accommodate for the distance and aimed for Sylvain’s thighs.
To Dimitri’s utter horror, the snowball pummeled Sylvain smack into his gluteus, sending the redhead crumpling to the ground and yelping like a wounded, teenage girl. Annette was right; Dimitri was the rule-breaker, after all.
Dimitri bolted toward his fallen opponent, forgetting all semblance of stealth as he nearly stumbled over his own feet. “A-are you injured, Sylvain?” he called out worriedly, but he received no response.
Even in the shadows, Dimitri could see Sylvain shivering as he lay prone on his side. Was Sylvain convulsing in pain? The thought made Dimitri’s stomach sink.
Dimitri approached Sylvain and knelt by his friend’s side, carefully lifting his friend until his upper half rested in his lap.
Sylvain’s eyes opened blearily, and he whimpered, “Your Highness, was that you?”
“It was. I did not mean to harm you. My apologies,” Dimitri grimaced. “Shall I carry you back to the castle?” he offered.
Sylvain’s eyes softened for a moment as he considered the offer. He then turned his head to Byleth, who was hovering above them curiously with her sword now sheathed.
Having made his decision, Sylvain met Dimitri’s gaze and replied softly with a flutter of his eyelashes, “Only if you carry me bridal style and then marry me.”
Dimitri unceremoniously pushed the rascal off his lap and stood up, this time ignoring Sylvain’s yelp as he plopped onto the snow.
“I suppose he’s fine,” Byleth noted.
“Indeed,” Dimitri deadpanned, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “And what about Felix?” he asked while dusting off his damp trousers.
“Grumbling something under his breath about technicalities and marching out of the woods,” Byleth observed and pointed helpfully in the direction of the swordsman’s stomping shadow.
“Then we have accounted for everyone and can return,” Dimitri concluded, offering a hand to the half-standing Sylvain. Sylvain accepted, and Dimitri lightly yanked the lighter man onto his feet again.
Sylvain shook his legs of snow, turned to Byleth and Dimitri, and gave them a wink before jogging away to catch up to Felix. “Leaving your partner is bad sportsmanship, Felix!” he yelled after the hothead.
“Then stop being such a bad partner!” Felix yelled in the distance.
“So does that mean I’m your partner?” Sylvain chirped, to which Felix loudly groaned.
Dimitri and Byleth stared at each other before cracking into smiles. They settled into an unhurried pace, taking their time to leave the forest.
Once the men were out of earshot, Byleth asked Dimitri innocuously, “In another life, would you have married Sylvain?”
Dimitri stopped in his tracks, looked at his endearing wife as if she had grown a second head, and scooped her into his arms.
The snowball fight was basically over by the time Dimitri and Byleth emerged from the forest.
Annette and Flayn were making snow angels. Dedue and Ashe were building a snowman, which vaguely resembled Dimitri based on the crude eyepatch. Ingrid was laughing heartily at Felix, who appeared ready to storm off again. Meanwhile, Sylvain was quivering his bottom lip and pleading for something from Mercedes, who simply sighed exasperatedly.
Dimitri gently lowered Byleth to her feet and asked lightheartedly, “Did our team win?"
Byleth shrugged her shoulders and replied nonchalantly, “Perhaps, but I don’t think that matters anymore.”
Dimitri hummed in agreement as he watched the strongest and wisest leaders in the land frolic like schoolchildren in the snow. “While bragging rights will inevitably spark another argument tomorrow, what matters today is that everyone is relaxing and having fun,” he smiled, wrapping his arm around Byleth’s waist and draping her his cloak.
“It has been a while since our last reprieve from our official duties,” Byleth added, leaning into Dimitri’s warmth.
Even more importantly, it had been a while since Dimitri got to see Byleth let loose and be her uninhibited self. Perhaps he should agree to Annette’s ideas more often.
“What do you say to a warm cup of chamomile tea and a massage?” Dimitri asked the professor suggestively.
“I say yes,” Byleth cooed, and Dimitri leaned in to kiss her lips. “But first…”
Dimitri’s lips were met with something icy and wet.
It seemed like Dimitri had one more opponent to defeat before he could retire for the evening.