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"Please join me in the kitchens."
Dimitri startled. The spear he had been holding, ready to throw at the training dummies, snapped like a toothpick in his hand. "P-Pardon, Professor?"
But Byleth was already walking out, down the hall, into the sunlight.
He had been dismayed — but dared not show it — when Byleth became the Professor of the Golden Deer class. That class was a rowdy bunch, entirely unconcerned with the politics that made Garreg Mach the melting pot that it was, outside of Lorenz anyway. Lorenz had enough concern about the nobility of the Leicester Alliance to make up for everyone else's blasé attitude.
Still. Why did the Professor track Dimitri down specifically for a shared meal? He looked at the splinters that stuck out of his gauntleted glove, wondering if he should take a moment to remove every single piece or simply take it off. Not wanting to keep Byleth waiting, seeing as she was already passing through a gate leading to the biggest building of the Monastery, made the decision for him. The discarded glove would be found later.
"What will we be having today?" If Dimitri sounded out of breath from dashing to the mess hall, Byleth didn't comment on it. He genuinely wouldn't mind anything that Byleth wished to eat with him, as invitations to eat with the professor were few and far in between for himself or Edelgard. Sometimes, he wondered why that was. Most times, he understood the practicality of it.
"King of Beasts steak," Byleth answered.
"Ah?" That was a new one. Dimitri furrowed his brows, wracking his brain. He was unaware of such an item. Was it the chef's special for the day? Speaking of, there was a distinct lack of a second person to attend to the meal with them. Maybe they were late. "What is- Professor?"
As it turned out, meeting Byleth in the kitchens was apparently literal. Dimitri stared rather dumbly as Byleth touched the shoulder of the cook and shoo'd her away for a break. The flow of students parted around him like a wave, which wasn't much but he knew distantly that he was very much in the way. Swallowing against the dry lump in his throat, the Prince forced himself to take the steps forward, hesitantly poking his head into the kitchen.
He watched how easily Byleth hefted the wok onto open flames, sprinkling oil and spices into it for an aromatic sizzle. The steam — or was it smoke? — that wafted around her was oddly alluring. Once again, Dimitri was struck dumb. "Um," was all he managed, watching as she walked to the icebox and pulled several pounds of steak out. She carried it all in one arm, uncaring if the beast blood leaked from the paper it was wrapped in, dribbling to the floor. "Professor, I-"
"Please come cut the meat."
It was no secret that Dimitri was, frankly, the worst to put on kitchen duty. Sure, he was not as explosive as Annette might be, or have the reputation that Flayn apparently had around the Monastery either. But his lack of tasting anything around the burnt ash that always coated his mouth did not help. If he was honest, the smell of cooking meat made him queasy. He preferred food already cooked and plated, else the terrible voices with their cloying words and shrieks and screams of their anger and dying wishes.
At the same time, Byleth had said "please." Who was he to say no to that?
Some time later, they surveyed their work. Byleth did it with a critical eye, arms crossed and face impassive. Dimitri did it from a distance, deciding it was better if he did the dishes and perhaps helped prep a salad or scoop the Peach Sorbet that was on the menu for the day. How such a gangly, lanky figure like himself could become so small with his sheepish embarrassment was a feat.
"It's edible," was Byleth's deduction. The cook and Dimitri both inhaled sharp gasps in surprise and disbelief respectively. When Dimitri looked over his shoulder, he watched Byleth take a serrated knife to the King of Beasts Steak and quite literally sawed through the charcoal outside.
"P-Professor," he pleaded, voice soft and pained and plaintive all at once. "I request that you cease salvaging this. It's embarrassing enough."
Of course, Byleth didn't listen to him. He saw the muscles flex in her arm as she pushed the knife the rest of the way through. The knife rattled as it hit the cutting board below it, and the sudsy dish that Dimitri held precariously snapped in half before falling back into the water with a splash. His throat was suddenly dry, and he had to force himself to look away, lest the poor man embarrass himself further.
Too bad Byleth was not done with her knife or the steak. There was no way for Dimitri to tune out the sound of her soft grunts and the smack of the knife on the table. Every time he heard it, he thought of the flexing muscles in her arm, no doubt honed by the wielding of the Sword of the Creator as gracefully as she did.
Goddess, he was hopeless.
"Dimitri," Byleth called over the roaring blood in his ears. "Come here. Look."
Although she was not his Professor, she was still faculty and held rank above him here at the Monastery. His hands were pruned terribly by that point anyway and would do well to be pulled out of the water and dried. "Must you torture me," he mumbled. A stolen glance toward the cook sent his heart sinking even lower — watery eyes, clutching the skirt of their apron to their mouth. It was as if they had been told that their loved one had died in a war somewhere.
If the burnt Steak was served to the students and faculty, that might very well be the case. Except instead of in war, it would be against bandits — and that was not a fun way to go.
"Is this necessary, Professor….?" he mumbled, finally shifting in baby steps to where Byleth stood. The table was a mess of brunt meat pieces, shattered like the plate at the force of Byleth's hands in cutting. There was still time to run, to hide in Sylvain's room or the infirmary with the way his stomach was doing several backflips a minute.
Byleth stepped aside.
As it turns out, it was a cross House day in the kitchens. Byleth wanted to cook for the Blue Lions, even if she only knew several of them in passing due to her focus being on the Deer. Yet there was a pleased little smile on her face as she watched her students — for weren't they all her students, really — dig in to the medium well, juicy perfectly portioned King of Beasts Steak.
"You are telling me that His Highness cooked this?" Dedue was a critical cook. Already the Steak and the accompanying salad had passed the test with Ashe and Yuri's impeccable palettes. Dedue was, essentially, the final judge to impress out of three.
"Yes," she answered simply.
The meat glistened under the light of the mess hall. Dedue turned his fork to and fro, before finally putting the warm, slightly pink bite between his lips. His impassive face gave no hint as to his enjoyment or lack thereof to the meat; Byleth's impassive face did not belie that she was a little nervous for his judgment. "You did not assist?" he asked after swallowing.
"Only a little," she admitted, pinching her fingers together. "I made the marinade," haphazardly, over the fire, and without thinking about what she was grabbing, "and cut it up at the end."
She may have also done a Divine Pulse or two to make sure it was cooked perfectly, much to Sothis' chagrin. I did not give you this ability to use it on cooking, you ungrateful child! No one but her and Sothis needed to know that, anyway.
"It is delicious," Dedue said, aiming these words at Dimitri. Dimitri, who sat in the middle of the Blue Lions current and past, bashfully ripping cloth napkins into pieces of snow as each of them peppered him with praise. Even Felix had something relatively nice to say — "It's edible" in the same flat tone as Byleth had used.
A little smile curved Byleth's lips, her own expression softening at Dimitri. It was so rare to see the Prince relax, especially around those he so desperately wanted to treat as equals but struggled to do so. Dimitri caught the expression, and smiled softly at her in return.
"I don't think I've ever seen you this happy, Professor," he commented. All eyes swiveled to Byleth, who straightened in her seat. "I hope to see you smile more often."
Feeling her own blush warm her body and dust her cheeks, she tipped her head. "…I hope so, too."
Finally, Byleth began eating.