Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was time.

It was far, far past time, really.

Dimitri climbed the stairs to the second floor of the dormitory. He had long since ceased living here, and yet he was rarely away for very long. As was the case with most of the other Blue Lions, and even some students from other houses their dear Professor convinced to join his class.

Years ago, one of his most trusted knights and friends, had told him when it came to manners of the heart, he would help Dimitri. While he certainly had taken long enough to get there, Dimitri finally decided he was going to court the Professor.

Trouble was… He wasn't sure where to start.

He had so many ideas, so many options laid barren before him, yet… None seemed right, or had too great a risk to go poorly.

Hence, why he stood outside of Sylvain’s room just as the sun started to crest the horizon.

Dimitri only hesitated briefly before knocking. The sound echoed in the otherwise silent hall, and the man couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious. Had he been too loud?

He heard sounds from within the room, two voices, both sleep-ridden and groggy.

Ah, Felix must had spent the night.

After some choice language (from Felix, no doubt), the door opened to reveal Sylvain, clad only in sleepwear and absently rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes.

“Your Majesty?”

“Dimitri,” He corrected idly, then continued, “I am sorry to wake you, but there is something I need your help with.”

That seemed to wake the man up enough for him to open the door further and step aside, “Is everything alright? Danger?”

“Ah, no.” Dimitri felt wholly out of place standing in a room with a half dressed man, and his also likely half dressed lover.

“Then what's the matter? Ya look pretty damn nervous,” Sylvian yawned, and sat down on the edge of his bed, gesturing to the desk on the other side of his room.

When Dimitri didn't move, Sylvain grunted, “Take a seat, you standing in the middle of the room is weird.”

After a brief moment of hesitation, Dimitri pulled the chair from the desk and faced toward Sylvain and the lump under the blankets he had no doubt was Felix.

“I… I wish to court our former professor.” He admitted upon finally sitting down.

A pale hand shot out from the mountain of sheets, an open palm followed by a dry, “You owe me 100 gold.”

“Hey, shut it, I’m not out of the running yet you ass,” Sylvain hissed, then beamed at Dimitri, “About damn time though, seriously.”

“Pardon?”

Sylvain stretched his arms behind his head, “Oh please, like it’s any secret. With all due respect your Majesty, you are not a subtle man.”

Dimitri had thought he was doing well keeping his favor for the professor tucked away. Had he truly been so obvious? Did Byleth already know of his intentions? Did the man not say anything because such desires were not returned? Perhaps he should leave it as it is, his friendship with Byleth was something he treasured wholly and dearly.

To lose that in pursuit of romantic intentions… Dimitri could not even bare the thought.

“-majesty, ugh, Dimitri. ”

The sound of his name brought him back from his spiraling thoughts. Right. He was in Sylvain’s room.

“Hey, welcome back.”

Dimitri rubbed the back of his neck, “My apologies.”

Sylvain waved him off, and leaned back on his hands, “So, as I was saying, Byleth is very dense. He’s probably totally ignorant to your feelings toward him.”

“He’s not dense-”

Sylvain held up a hand to cut him off, “Oh yes he is. When it comes to emotional stuff? Absolutely. He is a damn genius of a tactician on the battlefield, but in manners of the heart? As useless as you, maybe moreso.”

“Unlikely,” Felix groused from the blankets.

Neither of the two paid him any mind, Sylvain rubbed his chin, “So, what do you want to do? Sweep our dear professor off his feet? Wax poetic about the color of his eyes?”

“I… I was thinking of writing a letter.”

Sylvain stared at him, no readable expression plastered on his face, “A… Letter? ”

“Yes. I could write what I desire to say to him, so that I do not fumble over the words and make a fool of myself. If he accepts my feelings, we would court.”

With a rustle of fabric, Felix’s head emerged from the cocoon he had so carefully constructed for himself. His hair was down and disheveled, it brought Dimitri back to when they were younger. Felix was never much of an early riser.

“You want to write a love letter? ” While phrased as a question, Dimitri could tell it was meant as a statement.

“Yes.”

Felix groaned and rolled his eyes, though was silenced when Sylvain patted the side of his face, “Alright… I can work with that. A love letter, eh? How delightfully romantic, oh the girls will love this.”

“ Do not tell anyone else.”

Sylvian shrugged, “I gotta, promised I’d clue them in if something was starting to brew between you two. Besides, we all want to help, I can help you write the letter, and hell, I can even deliver it for ya, then we’d wait for Byleth’s response.

Dimitri heaved a sigh, and dragged a hand down his face. 

Alright. 

Fine. 

So long as he was the one to deliver the truth of his feelings to Byleth, then… He could deal with it. Not like there wouldn't have been whispers about them anyway.

Not like there hasn't already been talk about them.

“No, start over. That's shit.”

“I have not yet written one sentence, Felix.”

The man leaned over the back of Dimitri’s chair and took the paper from beneath his quill, crumpled it up, then tossed it aside.

“It was awful.”

Sylvian scooped the crumpled attempt and pursed his lips, “Well, Felix isn't exactly wrong.”

“I didn't write anything other than to whom I was addressing the letter to!”

“That’s the problem you stupid boar, Byleth has not been our professor for years, you have to stop calling him by that. Especially when you are confessing your love for him.”

Byleth.

The name sounded foreign in his head, a forbidden word he was not permitted to speak. After all he had done, did he really have the right to call the professor by his name? It felt… Wrong, to not give the man the proper respect he deserved. He supposed archbishop would be more proper, perhaps he should address him as such instead.

The moment he started writing ‘Dearest archbishop’, the paper was taken away and crumpled once more.

“Thats worse.”

Dimitri suppressed the urge to shout at Felix, and instead, spoke evenly, “Why is nothing I write good enough?”

“You're addressing Byleth as a title, an entity, not a goddess damn person. ”

“I do not understand.”

Felix groaned, threw his hands up in exasperation and left his post behind the king to sit on the bed instead. Sylvain chuckled, and took his lover’s place behind Dimitri.

“I know what he’s getting at,” Sylvain smiled, “Tell me, your Majesty, why does it bother you when people address you by your proper title, even in casual situations such as this?”

Dimitri shot him a short glare, “I am more than my title, and you are my friend. There is no reason to treat me like I’m better than- Oh. ”

“There ya go, now you're getting it.”

Embarrassment at his hypocrisy tickled the back of his neck. He had never stopped to consider the prof- no, Byleth’s feelings when others addressed him by the proper titles…. Himself included. 

He grabbed a blank sheet of paper, and tried again.

‘Dearest Byleth…’

Never before had the weight of something so light, feel so, so heavy. 

The simple, unassuming, scroll clutched delicately between his hands carried the weight of Dimitri’s heart within. What was worse, was that the professor - Byleth - could be nigh impossible to track down on days he was not at the cathedral leading the faithful, or organizing knights to keep his den and those around it, safe.

Irritation began to get the best of him as he climbed the stairs to the second floor of the monastery. He made a beeline down the hall to the captain of the guard’s quarters. Once belonging to Jeralt, Alois now took up residence as the captain. 

Dimitri was there when Byleth appointed Alois as the new captain, after the war had finally ended. The man cried at having such an honour bestowed upon him, and swore his fealty to Byleth and the church.

Byleth was completely taken aback at the man’s emotions, though Dimitri remembered fondly the way the professor - Byleth - tried to consol the sobbing knight. It made for quite a sight, a man with face bare of emotions, trying desperately to figure out why someone he cared about was crying.

Just as he had hoped, Alois was slumped over his desk, one hand tangled in messy brown hair, the other with a quill in hand, scouring over whatever paperwork had been laid before him.

Alois glanced up when Dimitri made his entrance, then returned his focus to his paperwork for a brief moment. Then, as if he suddenly realized who was before him, the man jumped to his feet and made a hasty bow, “Y-your Majesty! What are you doing here? A-Ah I mean, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Relax, I only came to ask where the pro- where Byleth is.”

“Oh? Archbishop Byleth is probably in the wyvern stables or tending to the lily pads on the third floor. Is there an emergency we must be prepared for?”

“No, nothing of the sort,” Dimitri bowed his head, “Thank you, I will be on my way.”

Since he was there anyway, Dimitri decided to check the third floor first. As luck would have it, when he reached the last step to be met with Cathrine, he knew Byleth was here.

She seemed bewildered he had come, but did not seem too troubled, “He’s on the balcony.” 

“Thank you,” He nodded once as he passed the knight.

The sight of the monastery from the balcony was beautiful. There, it almost felt as if he could see all of Fodlan. The air was crisp, but unlike his kingdom to the north, the air lacked the bitter chill he had grown to love.

Still, it was breathtaking all the same. 

Byleth was kneeling by one of two small ponds that decorated the outcropping. A soft chuff from the wyvern perched on the stone railing spurred the man to glance up from his position. 

“Dimitri.” While his tone was even and unassuming, Dimitri felt a surge of pride at the faint smile that ghosted the man’s lips. He was happy to see him.

Had he been anyone else, they would have been far more careful in their approach. Wyverns were known for being protective over their masters, a deep bond formed between the dragon and rider that was scarcely understood, but respected all the same.

Still, he trusted Dagur, and in turn, the dragoness honored him with the same. He had saved her life just a few short years ago, and they waited together, in a way, for the return of the man before them. 

“I… have something for you.”

Byleth approached and took the letter when presented with it. He turned the unaddressed scroll over in his hands, likely bewildered at the lack of a sender, or anything indicating its intended receiver.

“What is it?”

“Its… ah… It's for you,” he repeated as the courage once felt drained from his veins.

Byleth nodded and began to open the sealed paper, fear overcame him like the coward he was, and he cleared his throat.

“I must be off, if it pleases you, I’d - I mean, the sender would like to know your response at your earliest convenience.”

“Aren't you the one who wrote-”

Dimitri was out of range of Byleth’s even voice before the man could finish his sentence. Catherine raised a brow at him as he descended down the stairs without a word, he could practically feel her eyes boring holes into his back.

Now, he just had to wait.

When a week passed and no response was given, Dimitri accepted his feelings for Byleth were not returned. 

It stung, a deep pain settled into his heart akin to a thorn. He doubted he’s ever be free of it’s barb, but Byleth was first and foremost his dearest friend. And he would not let his own petty feelings for the man stop him from being there for him.

So, he continued as usual.

He had been in the middle of packing the few belongings he brought with him to the monsitary when there was a knock on the door. He frowned, he was needed back at the capital, a small city just north of his land was being invaded by thieves left and right, he was called to defend the allied territory and save them from bandits.

Still, he paused his preparations and opened the door.

He had expected Dedue, or perhaps one of his knights, but instead, Annette stood before him, her face pink and beaming.

“Your Majesty!”

“Dimitri.”

“Right, right. Dimitri, here, I ran as fast as I could. I’m glad I was able to reach you before you left.”

She handed him a scroll, no sender, no recipient.

His heart jumped to his throat. Hope blossomed from the thorn inside him, he thanked Annette absently and closed the door once she left.

Dimitri drew in a breath for courage, and slowly unfurled the paper. On it, a single scribbled word.

‘Thanks.’

Dimitri slumped on his bed, staring at the paper. 

That was it? Just… Thanks?

Dimitri had poured his very soul out in that letter, he had written things he could never have said to Byleth. He… He had given his heart with that letter.

Only for Byeth to toss it aside and send it back to him, dry and broken.

As much as he craved it, Dimitri couldn't bring himself to rip the letter apart. 

Time evaded him as he sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at the single loathsome word. He had promised himself that even if Byleth were to reject his feelings, he’d still remain by his side until death did they part.

Yet… 

The apathy, the sheer lack of care the single word gave… It hurt him to his core, it angered him. Had the professor simply told him his feelings were not returned, he felt as though he could accept that. But this, this stung.

A heavy knock sounded at his door, and Dimirti snarled before he could stop himself, “Leave me.”

The door opened anyway, and Dimitri turned on his intruder, but his anger simmered and died upon seeing Dedue standing in the doorway.

“Your Majesty, it is time to depart.”

Yes, of course.

He was more than his love for Byleth, he was a king. He had a duty to his people, no matter how much he himself hurt, he could not let others suffer just because he was. He was no longer that man, no longer that selfish beast.

“What troubles you?”

“It is nothing Dedue, trivial nonsense,” He muttered as he stood and folded the letter up to stuff in his bag.

Dimitri was both irritated and pleased when Dedue casually reached over his shoulder to grab the letter from his hands. The man had relaxed significantly since Dimitri’s ascension to the throne, and while he was still adamant on being Dimitri’s vassal, he was also a friend.

“Is this Byleth’s response?” The man seemed bewildered as he turned the paper over, as if expecting something more to be written on the other side.

“You knew about the letter I wrote?”

“Of course,” Dedue dismissed, then handed the letter back with a frown, “I believe there is a misu-”

“Dedue,” Dimitri was swift to cut him off, he did not desire to chase after the archbishop like a lost puppy. He loved the man, he doubted that would ever change, but he was not going to let himself have false hope.

His feelings were not returned, plain and simple. 

He was a grown man, he would not die from rejection.

Dedue fell silent, while clear the man had more to say, he kept such thoughts to himself. Dimirti grabbed his belongings and stepped past Dedue into the hall, they needed to leave. His sulking had cost them precious time, and Dimitri would not have any more blood on his hands.

Normally, Dimitri would stop to inform Byleth of his departure, but he… He couldn't face the man now. He’d return, he always did, but he allowed himself to be selfish just this once, and leave without speaking to him.

As he mounted his horse, and began the journey back to his homeland, he glanced over his shoulder at the balcony jutting out from the monastery. Byeth was nowhere to be seen, but his wyvern perched on the stone.

Shame pricked down his spine as the dragoness stared down at him from utop the railing, her yellow eyes seemed to look right through him.

He shook it off, and led the march out. He was imagining things.

Weeks passed, the bandits dealt with, Dimitri returned to the capital. 

Evening brought a fierce chill over the land, though his fur cloak was enough to keep him warm. He leaned against the decorated railing of his castle, gazing over Fhirdiad and the land beyond it. The sun cast the horizon in a beautiful warm glow.

He had duties to attend to, but imagined he’d probably return to Garreg Mach in a few months. 

Dimitri never was away for too long.

While not necessarily asking to not be disturbed, it had become an unspoken request to leave him to himself when evening descended. So when knocks fell upon his bedroom door, Dimirti was quick to answer, expecting an emergency.

Instead, it was Dedue.

That man did not appear to be overly distressed, but tension still laced his muscles as he bowed before him, “I apologize for disturbing you.”

Dimitri stepped aside and allowed the man to enter his room, “What happened?”

“Nothing pressing, a letter came for you.”

The king gratefully took the scroll from him, and unfurled the paper. His brows furrowed as he read over the sentence within.

‘I apologize for upsetting you, I am not very good at writing letters.’

There was no sender, but Dimitri could recognize that messy scrawl anywhere. His heart ached at his previous behavior, of course Byleth never meant him harm. Dimitri had acted like a child, he owed the Archbishop an apology.

He rolled the paper back up and sighed, he felt writing another letter back would be fruitless. Guess he would be paying a visit to the monisarty earlier than anticipated. Alas, he would be unable to make the journey for another fortnight at best. He still needed to review taxes and visit smaller villages to learn of ways to better support his people.

As much as he wanted to return right away, he had to put his people before his own desires. A true King saw to those he was sworn to protect first, before ever thinking of himself.

Nearly two months passed before Dimitri returned to the Garreg Mach.

The spring rains were in full form, pattering against stone and metal alike. It was cold, the rain soaked to the bone, but it was much needed. The land had something of a minor drought, he had learned. The crops undoubtedly would flourish this year.

Upon dismounting his horse, he was greeted with the sight of none other than the Archbishop himself. 

“Dimitri,” The man nodded his head once, a greeting.

The king passed the reigns of his gelding off to one of the stablehands and approached Byleth. He hoped his smile seemed more genuine than forced.

“Archbishop Byleth,” Dimitri bowed, “It is nice to see you again.”

When he glanced back up, he searched for some sort of emotion within Byleth’s eyes. Slitted green held his gaze evenly, they lacked the usual spark or warmth the had grown accustomed to. 

Furrowing his brows, Dimitri took a moment to actually look over his dearest friend. The man seemed to be at a healthy weight, not favoring any limbs - unharmed. Yet there was this slowness to him, an exhaustion Dimitri was all too familiar with.

There were the beginnings of dark circles beneath his eyes, and Dimitri knew the man was not sleeping.

“I… Have not had tea in a while, if you are free I would greatly enjoy sharing news over a cup.”

That seemed to break whatever daze the Archbishop had fallen into, he straightened, nodded, and turned on his heel. Dimitri was quick to follow the unspoken invitation.

The rain pelted against the glass and stone around them. It was a comforting sound, much more so now that he was dry and far less cold.

Dimitri brought the steaming cup to his lips, and took a sip. Fondness warmed his body when he realized the professor - Archbishop - Byleth, had brewed chamomile. While he couldn't taste it per se, he could feel the way it brought ease to his body, and the gentle aroma had always been a source of comfort.

“Dimitri,” Byleth’s voice brought Dimitri from his thoughts, he met the other man’s gaze.

“Yes?”

“I… I do apologize, in the letter I wr-”

Dimitri set his cup down with a fair bit more force than he had intended. The plate buckled and cracked beneath the cup, but thankfully, did not shatter.

“ Don't. Ah- I mean,” He sighed, “It is fine, please, just leave the subject be. I do not wish to discuss it anymore.”

“But-”

“Please Professor, Byleth. Just forget about the letter.”

Byleth’s brows furrowed, and his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Something clearly troubled him for the man to emote so much, but Dimitri dismissed it. They were friends, and he knew Byleth did care for him, even if just platonically. Of course he would worry about hurting him.

Dimitri let tea wash over his tongue before speaking again, “Lets just go back to how it was before, alright? No hard feelings, just pretend it never happened.”

His words only seemed to frustrate the other man further. 

But, as he had requested, the subject was dropped. Instead, Dimitri took the lead in the conversation, talking about things as important as news between their territories, to absolute nonsense that no one but them would surely care about.

It was nice. 

A step back to how things once were.

Dimitri made his way past the dining hall when he heard hushed voices arguing. He recognized them as his former classmates, and was quick to find them, worried.

“How was I supposed to know that’d be what he wrote?” Ingrid’s voice was laced with frustration, hackles raised in self defence at the other two women frowning at her.

“I know, I know,” Mercedes soothed, and placed a delicate hand upon an armored shoulder, “I just don't understand why he went to you of all people for advice.”

“He seemed so confident when he handed it to me,” Annette added wistfully, twirling a bit of red between her fingers.

“He went to Felix as well y’know,” Ingrid grumbled, “Catherine and Alois too, I think.”

Annette scrubbed a hand down her face, “No wonder it was such a disaster.”

Mercedes’s gentle laugh chimed off the walls of the hall they had tucked themselves away in.

“Honestly, it isn't really our business,” Ingrid’s frown led Dimitri to believe she only partly believed what she spoke.

“Yeah, but they're our friends, and they’ve been through so much… They deserve to be happy.”

Dimitri kept walking, he was not a stupid man, he knew exactly what they were discussing. 

He could only hope everything would blow over in the coming months.

Dimitri wasn't one for singing, he didn't have the best ability to carry a tune. It just… Wasn't something he could really do, though he appreciated choir well enough. 

Honestly, the only reason he attended was to listen, not sing.

And maybe he liked being able to pick out Byleth’s gentle dulcets over the cacophony of other voices. 

Maybe he found the man’s voice soothing.

On most days he led the faithful in song, Byleth would wait until the last person left the cathedral before he disappeared to do… whatever he did. However, the chilly spring morning seemed to be different. Once the songs came to an end, Byleth excused himself almost immediately.

Dimitri wanted nothing more than to follow the man, but he elected not to. If Byleth was in a hurry, he didn't want to slow him down. They’d meet up for tea later in the afternoon, he could always inquire then.

“I can not believe you two, of all the things… ”

Seteth’s voice carried when the man wanted it to. Dimitri wondered what poor sods got themselves under his ire, and thanked the goddess he was not one of them.

“In my defense, that shit is way out of my usual mission objective.”

“You're married, Cathrine.”

“Yeah, what of it?”

Dimitri was very, very thankful to the goddess for keeping him out of Seteth’s sights.

He climbed the stairs as Seteth’s and Cathrine’s arguments faded under stone steps. By the time he reached the archbishop’s room, or well, Byleth’s room, the man was already seated with two cups set out.

There was a new, uncracked, plate under the porcelain he had used last time. He should find a way to make that up to him.

“Smells wonderful, I hope I wasn't keeping you long?”

“No.”

Dimitri nodded, and served himself from the pot between them.

“Seteth is giving Cathrine an earful downstairs,” He chuckled, “I wonder what she did to gain his ire.”

“She breathed,” Byleth hummed.

Dimitri laughed behind the rim of his cup, “That’d do it, I suppose. They never did get along much.”

“Still don’t,” Byleth noted, a faint edge of humour in his tone.

They were natural opposites, though even through the constant bickering, Dimitri could tell they’d fight for the other to their last breath. Much like Manuela and Hanneman, in a way.

“I will have to return to Faehgrus before this month passes, with the rains coming in full force, we must take precautions against flooding, especially of our crops.”

Byleth grunted, so Dimitri continued.

“The school of sorcery has also requested more funding, they wish to rebuild their library after much had been burnt away during the war. There’s also the usual political meetings that must be held, settling disputes between minor lords, and making sure everyone has food on their table. Not to mention going south to help the old Empire’s territory recover from the war, much of their land is blood soaked. It will not be easy to heal.”

“Sounds like a lot of work.”

Dimitri set his cup down and leaned back in the oak chair, “It is, but it is work that must be done all the same.”

“Do not overexert yourself, Dedue already frets over you as it is. You’re aging him by years each passing day, at this rate he’ll look like Hanneman by the end of next week.”

The snort that escaped Dimitri’s lips was wholly unflattering, but it was worth nearly choking on his own saliva for the sly grin Byleth graced him with.

Sometimes, Dimitri forgot how cheeky his professor could be.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What is your favorite flower?”

Dimitri didn't think he would ever truly get used to Byleth sneaking up on him. He finished adjusting the straps of his horse’s saddle before responding.

“Forget-me-nots, probably,” He considered, then turned to raise a brow at his dearest friend, “Why?”

“So I know which flowers to grow for when you return.”

Sure, Dimitri knew that was said with purely platonic intention, but goddess he was still a man. The rapid fluttering in his chest was largely ignored, “Oh, well, thank you. But truly, it is not necessary-”

“Yes it is.”

Dimitri opened his mouth, then closed it. He wasn't sure what Byleth was planning, but ultimately he decided that since he had deemed it important, Dimitri would give respect as such and nod along.

“How are construction efforts in Enbarr?”

“Fine, many citizens are having trouble adjusting to the new rule,” Ingrid supplied, her gaze trailing down a scroll she had received from one of her corriours, “Many are confused, and do not understand what came to pass. However, there has not been as much unrest within the capital as expected. The people are tired, they’ve fought for far too long.”

“I can imagine,” Dimitri sighed, “Allow the people to have full say in how their homes are rebuilt, it is the least that can be done. I do not wish to erase their history.”

“Understood,” With a twirl of green, Ingrid descended down the steps of the throne room and left Dimitri to his own thoughts.

The alliance had been far easier to rebuild, many were thankful for coming to their rescue when the Andrastian Empire invaded. The empire itself though… Has been far more challenging. They do not bear the same gratitude as the alliance, Edelgard was many things, but she had been a good Emperor.

Many of her people mourned her death.

Yet even still, they did seem content to no longer fight a never ending war.

Dimitri had not returned to the Empire since he had killed his step-sister. He could not bear to return to the place, not yet. Senselessly had he killed so many of their people, some not even soldiers, but just bore a red crest that justified his bloodlust at the time.

They were his people now, but he had killed so many, could he really be the king they deserved? When their blood still stained his hands?

“Your Majesty.”

Dimitri pulled his head from his hands, “Dedue?”

“It is time for dinner, come, you must eat.”

“Ah, right.”

The food before him was, objectively, better prepared and suited for his needs than the dining hall at the Monastery. Yet he found himself eating alone more and more frequently. Dedue was a constant, occasionally Felix, Sylvian, or Ingrid would dine with him as well.

More often than not though, he sat largely alone at the end of a table far too long for a single man.

He missed dining with friends.

“Dedue, could-”

Dimitri’s voice petered off when he found his friend hunched over his desk, scribbling feverishly on some scroll. The man jolted, and instinctively moved a hand to cover what he was writing, smudging the fresh ink as he did. 

“Your Majesty, how may I be of service?”

“You might want to rewrite that,” Dimitri chuckled, and leaned on the doorframe of Dedue’s private quarters.

It had been a hassle to convince his friend he deserved to have a private place of his own, one where he could relax and rest at ease. For a while, it was bare. A bed, a desk, a bookshelf, nothing frivolous or anything to make it Dedue’s own.

As time passed, things slowly were added. A Duscar shield hung above his desk, some of the shelves had spices and books written in his native tongue, his bedding changed to what was common among his people. 

It was a lot more colorful, and Dimitri was pleased.

Dedue lifted his hand to find ink smudged over his palm and scowled, “Ah.”

“I will not pry, but I have to say, I do not recall you ever looking so concentrated on a letter before.”

The only response he received was a grunt, “What is it that you needed?”

“Nothing of import, I assure you, I simply came by to ask if you’d be free to spar.”

Dedue pushed himself to his feet and rolled up the paper, then tucked it into the first drawer on his desk, “Of course.”

“You can finish the letter first, you know.”

“It will still be there when I return.”

The following week, when Dimitri approached the dining table to eat (once again, at Dedue’s request) he found himself frozen at the sight before him.

The table was far from empty.

Felix, Sylvain, Ingrid, they all sat there, chatting away much like old times. Mercedes and Annette sat beside Ingrid, chiming in occasionally on the conversation the three had, until Sylvain said something undoubtedly crass and Felix elbowed his lover.

Even still, Ashe was there, as were many of his previous academy friends. Caspar, Dorethia, Petra, flames, even Hilda and Claude were there.

So many old friends had gathered around the table, what had spurred this event?

“Well, well, if it ain't the man of the hour!” Claude stood and rose a tankard into the air, “‘Bout time, if ya took any longer we were going to start without you.”

“It's been a while, Claude,” Was all Dimitri could think to say, stunned into silence by the sight of his old friends.

“Sure has, now sit down so we can eat! I’m starving, Fhirdiad’s cold is not kind to someone like me, y’know.”

Dimitri wordlessly took a seat, Dedue followed suit to an empty chair and plate just to his right.

Even with his poor taste, surrounded by those he grew to care for and cherish, the food served that night was the most delicious he ever had.

As evening fell, and merriment was in full form, Dimitri slunk from the table and finally decided to inquire to Claude, “Why are you here?”

“What, can’t pop in on your Kingliness from time to time?”

“Of course you can, but why now? Why…” He gestured to their friends, dancing together, laughing together, many of which would undoubtedly be hungover the following morning, together, “Why with them?”

Claude grinned and leaned back against the cool stone, “Had it on good authority you were getting kinda lonely up in your castle here. Thought we could break in and give you some headaches.”

“... Dedue wrote you?”

“Nah, though I think the idea stemmed from him. Good ol’ teach rounded us up and ushered us to come visit you,” A fond smile etched into his features, “Not that we really needed convincing.”

Why would Byleth have them dine with him? While far from complaining, it seemed… Odd, for the man to schedule a reunion and not show up himself. Still, it touched him to think that his dearest friend would go out of his way for him like this.

“Oh! I nearly forgot,” Claude pulled a scroll from beneath his embroidered cloak, “Got a little gift for ya.”

“What is it?” Dimitri turned the scroll over, attached to it was a small leather pouch, neither were addressed.

“A surprise,” Claude winked and nudged Dimitri towards the ballroom their friends had migrated to, “Open it later though, I promised to make you have fun tonight, and I do not break my promises.”

Claude did just that. Finally, at the latest hours of the night, Dimitri slunk to his private quarters, exhausted, but genuinely happy. The first time he had felt such in quite a long time. He forgot how much his friends meant to him. He’d be sure to organize gatherings like that more frequently, of his own accord this time.

Dimitri hung his robe up, and remembered a weight he had been carrying for much of the evening. He pulled the scroll from his jacket, and set it on his desk as he finished undressing. When in his small clothes, he gently scooped the paper back up and delicately unfurled the paper.

‘Dimitri,

I do not write letters well. I had gone to seek advice on how to respond to the one you had delivered, but I misunderstood and did not write back properly. Words have never been something that come easily, spoken or otherwise, so I hope actions will suffice.

By now, you probably are preparing to rest, so do not let me keep you much longer. But know this, you mean more to me than words will ever express. I adore you, the way you smile, how you light up when something tickles your fancy, the shy way you care for those you love. You are truly a great man, do not let your fears and doubts tell you otherwise. You are a king beyond caliber, and people love you so much more than you know.

The people that came, every single one of them loves you. You are important, not just as a king, but as a friend, a brother in arms, and perhaps, should this letter come across as I hope; one day, a lover.

As I promised all those months ago, I will always remain by your side. 

My father told me to give this ring to someone I love as he loved my mother. I did not understand what he meant for a long time, but now, I do.

Love,

Byleth’

Dimitri stared at the paper for far too long, reading, and rereading each word. It wasn't until wet drops stained the page, did Dimitri actually set it back down. 

He was crying.

Yet these tears were not of grief, he was so, so happy. He felt so warm, so blessed to have such amazing people in his life. To have people who truly cared about him, who have stood by his side despite all that had happened.

When Dimitri unfastened the small leather pouch and emptied the content into his open palm, he was at a loss.

There, a simple silver ring. It was beautiful, delicately made, precious stones woven between the silver. He had never seen anything quite like it before, the craftsmanship was superb, yet the technique looked old. Had this belonged to his father?

The ring was too small to fit around Dimitri’s finger, so instead, he clutched the priceless gift to his chest. 

He did not deserve this love, but he would cherish it with all that he was.

Byleth deserved a proper courtship, and Dimitri would give him one fit of the Blaiddyd name.

Chapter Text

Upon finally returning to the monastery, Dimitri was far from surprised to see many of his friends that has visited him in Fhirdiad, stopped by Garreg Mach on their way to their respective homes.

Ever since Byleth had taken over, the monastery and surrounding area had flourished. People were happier, trade was in full bloom, and even those who did not believe in Sothis flocked to the holy ground. It had become a safe haven, a place where anyone could come and rest their weary head.

Byleth rarely talked about the Goddess herself, but the few times Dimitri had witnessed, there was this softness in his eyes rarely seen. As if speaking of an old friend, not a being beyond time itself. Funnily enough, he had a vastly different view of the Goddess than Lady Rhea, or most other churches did.

To them, the Goddess was a radiant, all knowing being. Beautiful as she was wise.

To Byleth, she seemed as if she were a sister. A snot-nosed kid that acted far too high-and-mighty for her age, but nonetheless was a kind and nurturing soul.

Dimitri wondered if Byleth ever actually did meet the Goddess, afterall, she had blessed him with power unrivaled over five years ago.

As sacreligious as it may be, Dimitri rather preferred Byleth’s take on the Goddess. She seemed more… Real, an actual person, not some untouchable entity that cared less for those she supposedly watched over.

Garreg Mach blossomed in Harpstring Moon, the rains of the previous month brought out the best in crops and flora alike. Just passing through the lowered drawbridge into the market brought the sweet scent of flowers from the representatives of the eastern and western vendors.

Shadows danced over the monastery as the wyvern riders did their usual rounds. Though, given by the way one of them was doing flips and twirls, it may have been less of perimeter checks, and more of stretching wings.

A white wyvern joined the merriment in the sky, followed shortly by a few more, only for them to scatter as a deep brown wyvern approached the group. If he squinted, he could spot dark green hair on the back of the dragon. 

He hoped Seteth didn't scold the other riders too much.

It was nice to see that Claude had stopped for a visit though, Byleth was rather fond of the man. He hoped now that the former leader of the Alliance returned, they’d be able to rekindle their friendship.

The first stop, as usual, was the stables. Dimitri handed off his horse to the stablehand, giving the cream colored gelding a brief glance, before turning away.

He struggled bonding with his horse. 

After the mare he rode before the war was killed, he had trouble letting himself get attached like that again. Still, the scars of all that happened were slowly healing, perhaps he should ask Byleth what sort of name he should give him.

Two heavy thuds on the roof of the stable snapped his attention upward.

A white and a black wyvern perched on the thatch roof. Dimitri wondered how frequently wyverns landed there given the lack of panic from the steeds inside.

“Well, nice to see ya, your Kingliness.”

“Dimitri, hello.”

He stepped back and shielded his eyes from the harsh sun to better get a look at the two riders peering down at him from their perch. Claude looked smug as ever, and Byleth… As stunning as ever. The man had his hair tied back and away from his face, likely so it wouldn't get in his eyes when flying. 

It was nice to see the man’s face without it hiding beneath unkempt bangs.

Not that he was really one to talk.

Maybe he should do better at tying his hair up, he mused and brushed a stray clump of blond from his eye.

“It is great to see you both as well, and good to see Seteth is not giving you an earful, Claude.”

“Hey, teach here started it, not me. I just joined in.”

“Dagur was feeling stiff.”

Dimitri chuckled, and took a few more steps back as Dagur hopped down from the roof to the sand below. She chittered at him, her head lowered to meet his eye. Dimitri froze, a bit uncertain on how to react to the wyvern’s sudden proximity. 

Dagur chuffed and pulled back, then shifted and angled herself for Byleth to slide off unharmed. 

The man stood proud before him, a softness graced his features when he met Dimitri’s gaze. Then, his eyes trailed down and his brows furrowed. The warmth once there leaving his face.

It took a moment before he realized what Byleth had been searching his hands for. 

Dimitri was quick to assure the man by blurting out, “The ring didn't fit, I-uh, I have it here.”

He pulled the silver ring from a small pouch he had tied to his belt, concerned that Byleth wouldn't believe him. At the sight of the ring, his features smoothed to something more content, and a gentle smile eased back onto his face.

“I suppose I am not surprised, it was my mother’s.”

Dimitri stared at Byleth, unsure how to respond to that. He allowed the man to take the precious gift from his hand and turn it over, mouth pursed as he studied it. After a beat, he grabbed Dimitri’s hand and placed it back into his open palm.

“It can get resized.”

“ No! ”

Byleth didn't react much aside from blinking faster than he would have normally. Dimitri closed his hand around the ring and held it to his chest, “No, don't alter it. It… It's perfect just as it is, I can string it around some leather as a necklace. It’d feel disrespectful to just… Change it.”

With his head slightly tilted, it seemed fairly obvious Byleth didn't understand what he meant. Still, he nodded regardless, “Alright.”

“You two are adorable. ”

Dimitri was reminded that Claude was still there, still on the roof. And they were very much not in a private area. 

As if the spell was broken, the stable hands, guards, and passersby immediately snapped back to work, pretending they had not been watching the scene unfold before them. Dimitri could feel his face heat up and he shielded his growing blush with a hand.

When he peeked at Byleth through his fingers, he couldn't help but feel more embarrassed at the faint dusting of pink that kissed his cheeks. Certainly not as embarrassed as he, but it was kind of nice to see the man actually flustered.

Even so.

“Claude, are you quite done?”

“Oh no, I’m just getting started,” The man propped himself up on white scales, “But do please go on, I could watch this all day.”

Dimitri sighed, though the noise was cut off in his throat when warmth enveloped his fingers. He glanced down to see a gloved hand grasp at his own, then, a gentle tug. 

“Balcony.”

“Of course,” Dimitri shot Claude a sharp look over his shoulders as Byleth dragged him away. 

“There better be a lecture on sweeping kings off their feet on Monday, teach!”

Byleth’s hand tightened as Claude called after them, and a soft, barely-audible, snort escaped his lips. 

A sound that made Dimitri’s chest ache in the most pleasant way.

The balcony was not secluded, but they were left alone. Only wyvern and pegasus riders could get close enough to hear them, and he was fairly sure Claude kept everyone away. As much of a troublemaker as he was, he did seem to genuinely care for Byleth’s happiness.

Byleth hadn't let go of his hand yet, and Dimitri was certainly not going to point it out. They stood beside each other between the small ponds, the silence was warm, but charged. Dimitri ever so gently squeezed Byleth’s hand, then let go to face the man proper.

“Byleth, there is… There is something I must confirm.”

The silence he was met with was enough to spur him further on.

“I… I am… I am enamored by you. I want to court you, properly. I do not wish for this, for us, to be some fling. I want you to eventually be my husband, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Byleth’s brows furrowed slightly, but Dimitri refused to let himself back down from his words. He didn't want there to be any more misunderstandings, he would wait for a response this time.

“... As do I?” 

Dimitri’s heart clenched, “You don't sound very sure.”

“I am,” Byleth’s tone was uncharacteristically firm, “I do not understand why you are telling me this though. I already gave you the ring.”

“There is…. There’s more to courtship than just exchanging rings,” He laughed despite himself, “In Feargus, there are traditions that are followed, I must earn your favor, and then your fath… Well, someone you care for’s favor. I must prove that I am to be a worthy husband, then there is the ransom, and the ceremony…”

“Why?”

Dimitri blinked once, twice, and stared down at Byleth. His mouth quirked into a slight frown, brows pinched, Byleth seemed… confused.

“Its… Its tradition.”

“But what is the point of all that? I love you, I have no desire to be with anyone else, why bother going through all that if our feelings are mutual?”

Dimitri tried not to let his heart beat straight out of his chest at Byleth’s blatant and almost casual declaration of love. He must have stared at him too long, as Byleth reached forward and grabbed his fingers again, and just… Stood there.

It brought back memories of when Dimitri’s ghosts were louder, when they howled for revenge, and Byleth remained by his side. Silent support for him to cling to as he weathered the storm that raged in his mind and heart.

“I suppose it must seem silly, huh?” Dimitri finally managed to speak, “But… If you would allow me, I would like to do it anyway. There is not much of the Blaiddyd name left, I am the sole survivor, there are many things I am changing as king, but I’d like… I’d like to keep this alive.”

Byleth nodded, warmth filling the creases of his eyes, “Very well.”

“Thank you, Byleth.”

Dimitri wanted nothing more than to stay by Byleth’s side the entire time he was at the Monastery. But, it was unrealistic, so he was left to wander the halls as Byleth did whatever he did. 

He figured he would see him eventually at the cathedral, so he decided to give his wandering a bit more purpose. Though often found himself sidetracked and distracted when a familiar face or two would drag him from his quest and chat for a while.

Annette and Mercedes were so happy for them, Dimitri wasn't sure how the news of them officially courting got out.

Actually. 

No.

It was definitely Claude.

He passed through the reception hall, only to be stopped by Dedue, “Your Majesty.”

His tone was firm, mouth drawn into a tight line. Dimitri nodded and followed his troubled friend up the stairs to Alois’s office. Much to the dismay of the man inside.

“Dedue! Come on, I told you this is faith. We can't, it’s insensitive to bring- ah that is…” The man trailed off and sighed.

“Guard Captain Alois, what is troubling you?”

It was odd to see such a rather large man shrink in on himself, and press the ends of his fingers together like a child scorned, “It's… Nothing. Well no. It's not nothing, I was just seeking some words of advice on how our friend here uh, managed certain… things.”

“Archbishop Byleth has been leaving Garreg Mach each night, and not coming back until the early hours of the morning. When the guard captain followed him, it seemed he could hear and see things that were not there, and such things were trying to get him to do something he is incapable of.”

Dimitri’s whole world stopped.

Did Byleth have ghosts of his own? After all this time, the man never said anything of them. How long had he been suffering in silence? Had Dimitri selfishly clung and drained Byleth’s comfort while the man himself was suffering the same?

He had been so, utterly, disgustingly selfish.

It made sense now, the growing dark circles beneath Byleth’s eyes. Of course he isn't sleeping.

Dimitri needed to return the favor, he needed to help Byleth manage his own demons. 

Dedue must have picked up on Dimitri’s conviction, and spoke, “We will accompany you tonight.”

Alois sighed, but did not protest.

When the last rays of light left the sky, they departed.

Alois was adamant on staying a respectful distance from the Archbishop, worried they would startle the man.

Dimitri knew better, Byleth was well aware of them following him, he just did not care. So Dimitri didn’t bother to mask his presence, it was a waste of energy better spent on trying to keep up with a wyvern whilst on horseback.

Hooves kicked up clumps of dirt and grass as the land thundered beneath them, traveling from the monastery all the way to the outer wall of Garreg Mach. Dimirti was glad for the silver armor Dagur wore, otherwise it would be so easy to lose sight of the dragoness against the black sky.

They came to a wall, one that had been patched up recently, if the discoloration between the bricks were any indication. 

Why here? What was so special about…

Memories flashed into Dimitri’s mind.

That dragon, Byleth’s scream, the way the cliff crumbled beneath his beloved professor’s feet. His desperate attempt to find him once the fighting had died down.

This was where Byleth fell, where he disappeared for five long years.

Why come back? Why would he ever want to return to such a wretched place?

Dagur angled her wings, and in a glint of green and silver, both she and Byleth dove down the ravine on the other side of the wall.

They had lost them.

“This way, I know where they’re headed,” Alois called, further along the wall to the drawbridge that led out of Garreg Mach’s territory.

Dimitri adjusted his horse and followed suit.

The path from Garreg Mach was different when night fell, an eerie mist settled over the road and the forest surrounding it. Alois turned, and started to lead them into the forest.

Sickness bubbled in the back of Dimitri’s throat. A horrendous nausea, his body desperately trying to convince him to turn around, to leave, there was danger.  

They needed to go. 

This place was wrong.

He glanced in Dedue’s direction, his knuckles paled where he clenched his mare’s reigns. 

“It will pass,” Alois assured them as he took point.

The deeper into the dense forest they trotted, the more intense the feeling became. Dimitri had to stop to breathe, lest he spill his lunch over the back of his steed’s neck. The hell kind of trickery was this? 

It took everything he had to not turn around, to not run like the coward his entire being begged him to be. 

The trees thinned out and gave way to a river. As if they river were holy in itself, the feeling passed, replaced by a gentle, serene calm. 

“What… was that?”

Alois shook his head.

It must have been some sort of magic protecting this place, but why? And from whom?

They followed the river north, the water began to glow. From it, crystals could be seen jutting out from the current. Spires of them reached away from the waterfall they seemed to originate.

There, just at the base of the water, was a massive structure of crystal, surrounded by a tree that had grown and woven itself around the precious stone.

Yet in the center, there was a crack, as if it had split open at one point.

What was this place?

Alois slid off his horse and led them into the bushes, just as Byleth emerged from the trees. He carried his clothes in his arms, and dropped them unceremoniously at the edge of the riverbank. Had it been any other situation, Dimitri knew he would undoubtedly feel flustered and embarrassed at seeing his beloved in such a bare state.

Still, even as the man waded into the water unburdened, the only thing Dimitri felt was concern.

That, and confusion as to why they were hiding.

He humored Alois’ naivete and turned his full focus to Byleth. He was just standing there at the base of the tree crystal. His hands clasped together, head hung, as if he were in prayer.

What was he doing?

“I am aware, thank you.”

Dimitri was a bit surprised to hear Byleth speak, but his brows furrowed even further. What were the voices saying to him? Were they calling him to lose himself to revenge as well?

He would not let that happen.

Byleth clicked his tongue and chided, “You told me this was easier, it has nothing to do with him.”

“I do not.”

“I am, you are not helping.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I don't have one, remember?”

“You and I both know that will not happen.”

The more Dimitri listened, the more confused he became. Byleth did not seem troubled, per se, by the voice in his head, instead bantering with it as if it were an old friend. It was… Unusual, and bewildered him to his core.

Byleth sighed and dropped his hands, they splashed into the water at his hips. 

“This won't work.”

“ Of course I do, but I am not you.”

“No, I am not.”

Byleth carded a hand through his hair and sighed, shoulders slumped and hands dropped back into the water with barely a ripple. 

Silence spanned the air. Dimitri wasn't sure how long they had sat there in the quiet, but it felt like eons.

Enough was enough.

Dimitri rose from their hiding place, and gingerly stepped through the gravel and mud as he came to stop before Byleth’s clothes.

The man did not react, just continued looking down at the water with furrowed brows.

He carefully unclasped his cloak from his shoulders and dumped it beside Byleth’s own, then waded into the freezing water clad only in the decorative tunic and slacks he donned around the monastery.

Byleth still made no movement as he came to the man’s side, so, Dimitri leaned down and gently pulled Byleth’s hand from the water, and warmed it in his own. He didn't speak, just stood there, support for Byleth to cling to as he weathered through whatever storm he faced.

That drew a reaction out of him, Byleth looked up at him from beneath pale lashes, his brows furrowed in an unspoken question. Dimitri tried to force a reassuring smile, and squeezed Byleth’s hand gently, hoping his silent support would be of help.

Then, the man’s eyes widened. 

“Oh,” He sighed, “I see. That is why you followed me… It is not the same. I promise.”

“You do not have to be ashamed,” Dimitri murmured.

“I know, but it is still not the same. I am frustrated, but I am not suffering.”

Dimitri couldn't say he fully understood what Byleth was trying to say, but he nodded anyway. It seemed whatever ghosts haunting him were not vengeful, but they kept him awake and irked him regardless.

“Come, lets get some rest,” Dimitri carefully tugged on Byleth’s hand, but would not force him to leave.

After a pregnant pause, the man relented and let Dimirti lead him from the water and help him dress. Dimitri’s head was far too clouded with concern to really realize what he was doing as he pulled Byleth’s pants up his scarred hips.

They returned to the horses, where Dedue and Alois were already mounted up and prepared to leave. Dimitri let Byleth hoist himself onto the gelding before settling himself against his back and taking the reins.

The ride home was done in utter silence. The only sound was their breathing and the beating of wings above them as Dagur followed them back.

Something else sparked Dimitri’s attention, something strange.

Byleth was warm, and he expected to feel gentle thumps against his chest where Byleth had leaned back into him, yet… There was nothing.

Dimitri dismissed it as the armor covering Byleth’s shoulders and upper back, then pushed the odd thought from his mind. Instead, he grounded himself with Byleth’s even breathes.

Not a word was spoken between any of them as they returned their steeds to the stable, and Dimitri grabbed Byleth’s wrist to lead him back to his quarters. A part of him feared if he let go, the man would return to that… place. Whatever it was.

Byleth humored him and did not struggle as was pulled along.

Their steps echoed in the abandoned halls, no one but them surely awake.

Dimitri stopped once they reached the open door of Byleth’s private quarters.

“Thank you, for letting us take you back.”

Byleth met his gaze, then lowered his eyes with a frown, “I will be returning tomorrow.”

Dimitri sighed, but nodded, “Then I will go with you. As long as I am able to remain at the monastery, I will accompany you each night you leave.”

“I am not being haunted, Dimitri.”

“Even still, you are losing sleep. You have people that are worried about you.”

Byleth met his eye again, “It is not the reason for my lack of sleep.”

Dimitri found that hard to believe, but decided not to comment, and instead released Byleth’s hand and bowed.

“Please try and get some rest tonight, then. I’d… Like to see you for tea tomorrow, if I may.”

Byleth bowed as well, awkward and forced, he wobbled as his balance was thrown off from the sudden movement, then righted himself with pink cheeks.

“Yes. Meet me at the greenhouse for breakfast.”

“I will see you then, Byleth.”

Dimitri was not sure what he had expected when he strode into the greenhouse the next morning.

The sweet scent of forget-me-nots greeted him, followed by the sight of the delicate blue flowers almost overflowing from the place. Yet even with how many there were, the plants that had made their home there long before them remained. Healthy, and undisturbed by the sudden growth around them.

Blue petals littered the stone barrier along the edge of the soil.

A table had been brought to the center of the greenhouse, and despite there usually being at least one or two people there, the place was empty aside from Byleth. Two full cups of tea already set.

“I hope you weren't waiting long,” Dimitri smiled, and Byleth shook his head.

The man pushed a plate of food toward him, biscuits and cookies. He recognized the smell of cookies, they were a recipe from Duscur. Dimitri remembered Dedue baking them for him years ago.

“Thank you.”

They enjoyed their food in silence, yet Dimitri couldn't shake off his concern. The man looked as if he had another sleepless night, or at best, a very fitful sleep.

“You didn't sleep well last night… Did you?”

“No.”

Dimitri let the warmth of chamomile soothe him before he set his cup down, “I am willing to listen, if you are willing to talk.”

Silence hung heavy in the air, Byleth stared down at the dark amber liquid swirling in the porcelain his fingers wrapped around. He wasn't wearing gloves, and Dimitri could faintly see scars that licked up his fingers, some older than others.

It was easy to forget Byleth had grown up as a mercenary. He spent almost his whole life fighting. For what Dimitri could now see as a genuinely loving soul, it could be hard to imagine the man before him cutting down countless lives without a thought.

Though, he supposed the same could be said of himself.

Dimitri let Byleth structure the conversation on his own, it was clear the man wished to speak, but he seemed troubled when it came to finding the right words. He could relate.

So, the king waited.

“I… Do not like sleeping. I sleep enough for necessity, that is all.”

Dimitri didn't speak, instead opted to let Byleth speak at his own pace.

“I was asleep for five years. I abandoned you, all of you, when you needed me most. I fear it will happen again. I don't want to lose another five years.”

Byleth’s knuckles paled as he gripped the warmth from his tea, “If I sleep, I’m scared I won't wake up again.”

“You did not abandon us, Byleth. You had no control over what happened.”

“It is that lack of control that scares me. I have always been in control of myself, my abilities, my body. I had to be, in order to survive. Because I have no control, I do not know when it’ll happen again,” Byleth hung his head, “And that in itself terrifies me.”

Dimitri was unsure how to respond. Even as he spoke, Byleth had barely any fluctuation to his voice, even and calm despite sharing what undoubtedly was something hard to talk about. Yet there was a rawness to his words that hurt. Byleth had always seemed this untouchable man, someone beyond fear or worries.

Yet, the closer he grew to him, the more he learned Byleth was just a man. Like him, like Claude, like anyone else. 

Just a person trying to get by in this world.

Dimitri reached forward and uncurled once of Byleth’s hands from the cup he clenched. He flipped his hand over and interlaced their fingers, then gave a gentle squeeze. 

Byleth seemed to respond far better to actions than words, even if it took learning a whole other language, Dimitri was determined to meet his beloved wherever he was.

When Byleth squeezed back, the heavy gloom that had settled over them lifted. Everything would be alright, they’d get through whatever this was. 

Together.

Chapter Text

The next three nights are much of the same. Though far less fanfare.

He’d follow Byleth through the cursed woods, and sit on the riverbank as Byleth battled his inner demons. 

Though, with much of his initial terror ebbed away, it was a bit harder to ignore the fact his former professor would wade into a river completely nude. 

He was very nice to look at.

Dimitri spent the nights after that facing away from him, to give the man his privacy. He surely didn't need someone ogling the dips of his muscles, or how the curve of his back accentuated his elegant, yet undoubtedly powerful, form.

Byleth didn't talk as much as he did on the first night either. Dimitri wondered if the demons were quieter when he was there - though he knew that was foolish and wrong, support of someone dear could help, sure, but never would it permanently silence the ghosts.

Occasionally he’d mutter something.

“ Cichol? What good would that do me?”

Dimitri glanced over his shoulder, the name of one of the four saints? He was under the impression the professor was never taught of the Goddess properly, such was the life living as a mercenary. He must have picked up some knowledge of the saints while teaching.

Seteth probably made him.

Though why would he speak the saint’s name now? What did the voice tell him to do?

“Ah… Wouldn't that be dangerous?”

Dimitri’s concern flared again, but he wouldn't get involved unless he felt it necessary. It could be horribly disorienting when someone pulled you to reality when in the middle of an episode, that initial terror of confusion was not something he’d wish upon Byleth.

“Very well.”

Byleth’s hands dropped and he breathed a heavy sigh. Dimitri turned to face the forest again, keeping vigil to be sure no monsters or beasts would approach them.

Dedue was a bit further down the river, so he was confident if a fight were to pass, they would have no trouble. Even nude, Byleth was more than capable of defending himself, he knew. 

Still. He’d rather not have to fight in the middle of the night.

Much less watch his former professor throw around fireballs in the buff.

Dimitri could hear the water shift as Byleth approached the shore. The man did not care for modesty as he himself did, no shame graced his form as he redressed beside Dimitri. He couldn't tell if that was because he trusted Dimitri, or because modesty was not something valued as a mercenary.

Maybe a bit of both.

 When he was sure Byleth at least had his pants on, Dimitri turned his head to look up at the man from where he sat, “Finished?”

“For now, there is something I am missing. I will seek answers tomorrow.”

Dimitri nodded, perhaps he was going to try praying to the saints instead of the Goddess.

As a King, he could never be away from the people for long.

A week was already pushing it, he needed to return. His people needed him, even as he longed to spend even a few more days with Byleth.

He needed to face his sins at Enbarr, he needed to prove to the people he had no intention of slaughtering them, or forcing them to change their customs and culture to meet his own.

He would return, he always did. But that did not make the trek up stone stairs any less heavy.

“- You have to tell him, ya know.”

“I know.”

Dimitri paused, ah, Claude was still at the monastery. He had made himself rather scarce the last few days, Dimitri thought he may have already left. He was a king in his homeland now, Almyra, wasn't he?

Dimitri wondered how that played out, and decided he’d ask about it another time.

“What does he know?”

“I am… Unsure. Very little, at best.”

Claude sighed, Dimitri wondered if he was walking in on a private conversation.

“I’m saying this as a friend, but the fact that I know more than he does is... Weird.”

“You figured it out, I never told you anything, if you recall.”

“Well, ok. Thats fair. Still, what are you gonna do?”

“I’ll let him read it.”

Dimitri cleared his throat, not fond of the possibility of hearing things not meant for his own ears.

The two startled, and turned from the balcony they stood on, to face Dimitri.

“Well look who it is.”

“Dimitri.”

Yeah, he had definitely been intruding on a private conversation. He pushed the odd sense of jealousy aside and instead smiled at the pair, “I came to let you know I must return to Fhirdiad, then travel to Enbarr. I may be gone for some moons.”

Byleth nodded, and left Claude’s side to stand before him.

“I see, how long will you be in Fhirdiad?”

“Not sure, likely a month while I prepare for the trip to Enbarr, I do not know how long I’ll be at the former Imperial Capital. I have to be sure the citizens of the city are recovering and well supplied.”

“Alright.”

Byleth walked past him, and down the stairs. Dimitri hesitated for a moment, and glanced at Claude - who made vague pushing motions with his hands - before trailing after the Archbishop.

The man saw him to the front gate as he and his people left to journey north.

Paperwork was truly the worst part of being a king.

So many requests, suggestions, and alliances to pour over. Each no less important than the last, which made getting through the seeming ever growing stack all the more tiresome.

He set his quill down and stretched his wrist, his joints were starting to ache from sitting and writing for so long. Dimitri had to get them finished before he rested though, as no doubt another stack would be awaiting his attention tomorrow.

Still, he allowed himself a brief reprieve to mull over his next plan of action with Byleth was.

Traditionally, he’d approach his beloved’s father, and perform a great feat to win their blessing of the courtship. Mothers would often be candidates as well, or any sort of parental figure. It was supposed to symbolize the parent trusting the life of their precious child to the soon-to-be.

A passing of the torch, in a sense.

Yet, Jeralt was the only parent Byleth had, and he… was dead.

Dimitri sighed and pulled a hand down his face, “Who the hell am I going to ask?”

It was a question more for himself, but Dedue, from his post in the doorway, responded anyway, “Why not ask the Archbishop himself?”

Dimitri frowned, “You can't just ask someone that.”

“Why not?”

“If someone asked you who you’d choose to stand in for your dead parents, how would you take that?”

“Hm. Your traditions of courtship are so convoluted, just tie knots and get it over with.”

Dimitri shifted and rested his arm on the back of his chair, “Is that what your people do for marriage?”

“We would tie the wrists of the couple together, then time them. The amount of knots they would tie within a certain time frame was how many years they would be wed.”

“That's… it?”

“Yes. There was no need for anything else, marriage is a partnership, is it not? The more knots the couple could tie, the better suited they were to work as a single unit. In order to tie the most knots, their hands would have to act as one, and they would need full trust and cooperation of the other to successfully tie even one, much less more than that.”

“Huh, I thought it’d be more romantic.”

Dedue shrugged, “What was and wasn't romantic was decided between the couple, it had no bearing on tradition or expectations. Could you work together? Yes? Good, you're married.”

“That's… Rather nice, actually,” Dimitri shifted his focus back on the papers before him, “I still want to court Byleth with my people’s traditions, though. Just need to figure out how.”

“Then, with all due respect, ask him. ”

“Your Majesty, you have a visitor.”

Dimitri turned his attention from the documents in his lap to the man that bowed at the base of the steps that lead to the throne. He tilted his head, then glanced out the window.

It wasn't too early for others to be awake, exactly, but everyone that had a pressing matter with him got their meetings out of the way within the week had been here. He was preparing to leave for Enbarr in five days.

Still, if someone came to grace him this early, it must be important.

“Send them in, please.”

He rolled the documents he had been reviewing up and tied them off with a strip of leather. He had a small table beside the throne so he could place excess paper when speaking to his people. He didn't like having his hands cluttered when addressing the concerns of those that came to him. Felt too much like dismissing them, or only giving them half of his attention.

He had not expected to see the Archbishop himself walk into the room. He looked almost casual, in his war attire, the same ridiculous coat with the same ridiculous cut sleeves. 

Dimitri wondered why he hadn't just gotten one that fit him properly instead of doing that to the arms.

He stood immediately and was quick to meet him at the base of the stairs, “Byleth, you're here. What brings you so far north?”

Byleth’s face was red, and even with the second coat he had on top of his other one, the man looked miserable.

“It's cold.”

Dimitri’s laugh bubbled from his throat before he could stop himself, “Yes, Faerghus usually is.”

Byleth narrowed his eyes at him, and Dimitri barely managed to repress another chuckle, “Come, it’d help if you wore proper attire for the cold. Let's get you warmed up, yes?”

“Can you leave the throne?”

“Should someone need me, I will undoubtedly be fetched, now, however, I am seeing a very important guest.”

“I can wait.”

Dimitri sighed and ushered Byleth from the throne room, “I am speaking of you.”

“Oh.”

Dimitri had spare clothes in his room, and the barracks, but Dimitri would rather have Byleth wear something more comfortable than fur insulated armor.

Byleth was silent as he led him through the halls of his castle, perhaps he should give a proper tour. 

Later, he decided.

He opened the door to his quarters and once Byleth stepped in, closed the door behind them.

“Now then, lets see what I have.”

A cloak would probably be the easiest, and would not require Byleth to change, so he went for one of those first. There was a deep blue one, the inside lined with sheep wool, and the collar with bear fur. It was not as ‘flashy’ as his usually white furred cape, but he did not think Byleth was one to like standing out.

Even if the man could draw the attention of an entire country by standing in the middle of a forest.

He gathered the cape in his arms and draped it around Byleth’s shoulders.

“Well…” Dimitri bit his thumb to keep from breaking down in peals of laughter at the sight before him.

For as proud and tall Byleth carried himself, the man was… Short.

Definitely not the shortest he had ever met, but he barely came up to Dimitri's shoulder. It certainly did not help that he was not as broad as Dimitri himself was. Far from lithe and delicate, but the man’s muscle was more compact. He was the snake to Dimitri’s boar.

The cloak absolutely swallowed him.

“It's warm,” Byleth supplied from where he was, quite literally, drowning in fur.

“ It's a bit big on you.”

“Obviously,” Byleth deadpanned, “It was tailored for you.”

Dimitri smiled and adjusted the cloak to sit better on the man’s shoulders, so it didn't quite smother him so completely. He could see Byleth’s face more clearly now, the way his unusual eyes stared at him from where he stood, warm, yet unfathomably stoic.

He tucked a strand of pale hair behind his ear, “There you are.”

The morning sun flickered through the windows behind his bed, the stained glass cast the room in a myriad of colors. As the colors touched Byleth’s face and hair, Dimitri couldn't help but wonder how he had been so lucky to meet such a fantastic man.

His hand remained on Byleth’s cheek, who leaned into the touch with closed eyes. 

A part of his mind bristled at the display of trust, wanting to reprimand him for closing his eyes to a feral animal.

But as soon as the thought made itself known, Dimitri dismissed it. He was not a beast, he was a man. Just like Byleth, just like Dedue.

Dimitri traced his thumb along the bone beneath Byleth’s eye, the dark circles were still prominent. He hadn't been sleeping.

Perhaps now that he was in Faerghus, he would be able to rest easier without the burden of having to return to that cursed place each night. Dimitri wanted him to feel safe enough to rest here, even if he himself had to stand vigil outside his door each night.

Byleth’s eyes were open, his gaze seemed to be studying Dimitri for… something. Even not knowing what he wanted, Dimitri waited patiently for Byleth to finish his search, or speak of what plagued his mind.

“Your hair is longer.”

Dimitri pulled back and covered a wholly unflattering laugh with a gloved hand.

“What?” Byleth frowned and grabbed the hand he hid behind.

“I was expecting you to say something else, you looked so focused.”

“It was harder to tell with your hair up,” He justified through a monotone drawl. Dimitri wanted nothing more than to grab his pink cheeks between his hands and kiss the man senseless.

Dimitri placed his hands on either side of Byleth’s face, the man didn't pull away, but did furrow his brow.

“Can I… Can I kiss you?”

Byleth stared at him, blinked once, twice, and just sort of… stood there.

Dimitri felt foolish, he shouldn't have presumed that he’d want to be kissed. He should have-

“Yes.”

Oh.

Dimitri knew he was beaming when he gazed down at his former professor. There was some distant shouting in the halls, but Dimitri didn't pay it any mind and he lowered himself to meet Byleth’s lips. He barely was able to ghost his own against him before the door slammed open.

“GOOD MORNinnngg…… Huh. Hi Professor.”

“Sylvain, hello.”

“ Sylvain. ”

Dimitri let go of Byleth’s face, worried his frustration would flare the crest beneath his skin. Sylvain chuckled, gave a weak wave, and closed the door before Dimitri did something he regretted.

“Wonder what he is doing up so early,” Byleth mused, entirely unphased by the situation. 

“Nothing good,” Dimitri groused, but with the moment lost, he may as well figure out what he needed.

He opened the door again to find, unsurprisingly, Sylvain, Felix, and Ingrid on the other side. Ingrid had Sylvain by the ear and was furiously scolding him in a tone hushed enough it could not be heard through a closed door.

“What do you need?” Dimitri sighed, and the three snapped to attention.

“Sorry for disturbing you, Your Majesty,” Ingrid bowed, “We had heard you were relatively free this morning, and decided to see if you would like to dine with us for breakfast, or an early lunch. But we see, ah, that you are busy, and would be happy to come by another time.”

Byleth ducked under the arm Dimitri was using to hold the heavy oak open, “I am hungry.”

Sylvain skipped after their professor down the hall, likely eager to escape Dimitri’s wrath, “Whatcha’ wearing there?”

“Dimitri’s cloak.”

“It’s kinda big on you, isn't it?”

“Clearly.”

Ingrid flinched and turned to face him, “Sorry.”

Dimitri shrugged, then let the door fall closed behind him, “Can't be helped, I suppose. Still, it is nice to see you all, I would love to take you up on that offer for breakfast.”

“I suppose your partner did not leave you much choice, huh?”

“To be fair,” Dimitri hummed, matching his strides with Ingrid’s, “I do not know when he ate last.”

Even irritated as he was, it was always a delight to dine with those he loved.

He stole a sip of water before inclining his head toward Ingrid, “You three are early, we won't be departing until later this week.”

Ingrid did not respond, her mouth full of food, so Sylvain replied in her stead, “Yeah, figured we’d come a bit early to help pack and plan everything, lighten the load a bit, y’know?”

“Why?”

Felix snorted, “You don't have to do everything yourself.”

Dimitri felt warm.

Though, that raised the question, “Byleth, not that I’m not delighted to see you, but, why did you come?”

“You visit me at Garreg Mach all the time, it was my turn.”

Dimitri knew Byleth likely saw this as a small gesture, but to Dimitri, the fact he was willing to travel so far, alone, just to see him… It meant a lot.

“Ew, don't make that face.” 

“Felix, I swear to the Goddess, if you ruin their moment I will personally gut you.”

“Are you sure you can spare the extra healers?” Dimitri inquired, the idea of taking healers from the monastery… Bothered him a bit.

“Yes. Manuala herself said he would like to accompany you.”

“I’m not expecting any fights.”

“I am not sending soldiers with you, but extra help would likely be appreciated by them now, especially at such a fragile time in their history. The more friendly faces they see, the less fearful they will be.”

Dimitri could see the point, and the Monastery was not too far out of their way on the path south to Enbarr.

“What if something happens while I am gone?”

“We can defend and heal ourselves, Dimitri. Flayn is an excellent healer, and she is not our only one.”

“Yes, but what if-”

“Dimitri,” Byleth grabbed his fingers and stopped their walk down the hall to where the man would reside for the night, “Do you trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Then trust I know who I can and can not afford to send with you.”

Dimitri still didn't like it, but deflated and relented all the same. He trusted Byleth, the man had never led them wrong, in classes or in war.

He could trust him on this.

“Here, this is the room you can stay in tonight. Please let me know if there is anything you’d like changed, or if you need more furs or-”

“Thank you, Dimitri.”

Byleth stepped inside and shrugged off the cloak, then his second coat, then… His usual coat. When he was free of armor and wore his tunic, Byleth pulled the cloak back on.

Dimitri decided he’d just give the man the thing, he clearly liked it far more than Dimitri ever cared to.

Though he noticed Byleth had a bag with him, had he been carrying that all day?

“I want to talk.”

Dimitri stepped inside the room without thinking, and sat down on the edge of the bed beside his partner.

“What troubles you?”

Byleth opened the bag and retrieved a leather-bound journal. It was old, that much was obvious, but incredibly well loved. He passed the book off to Dimitri, “Read it.”

Dimitri wasn't sure what to make of the expression Byleth wore on his face, but flipped open to an early page. The handwriting was neat and well crafted.

It was… A journal.

Day 5, Great Tree Moon

I’ve finally got her name, Sitri. She seems to be Lady Rhea’s daughter, though the two look more like sisters than anything. She told me I stunk like an unwashed horse, and dumped a bucket of water over my head. I think I love her.

Day 17, Great Tree Moon

Sitri agreed to get drinks with me. That woman does not emote much, but damn can she hold her ale. She drank the whole gang under the table, with nothing more than a faint dusting on her cheeks from the booze. She said alcohol didn't affect her much, but I call bullshit. She was exactly the type of person to feign innocence and drink every man in a bar out of their last coin. I love her.

Dimitri skipped around between the passages, confusion threading his mind. What was this? It spoke of Lady Rhea, and some woman he never had heard her mention before. When did she have a daughter? Where was she now? Who was this…

Realization struck him hard, and he immediately snapped the book shut.

“This is your father’s journal.”

“Yes.”

Dimitri handed the book back, “Here, take it.”

Something akin to hurt flashed over Byleth’s face, then shoved the book back into Dimitri’s lap.

“Read. It.”

“No, I will not. I am done living by the words of dead men Byleth, anything this book says can be told to me by you, and you alone.”

“Dimitri, it is important, read it.”

“If it is so important, then why do you not tell me yourself?”

Byleth bristled, his eyes narrowed and he stood, “I am poor at words, there are things you should know, about me.”

“Then tell me.”

Byleth pulled at his hair, growing more and more frustrated, Dimitri took pity on the man and stood as well, gently untangling his hands from the pale locks.

“Listen, whatever secrets that book holds, you can tell me. If not tonight, then another. You do not have to tell me everything at once, Byleth, I am patient, and can wait. So long as your heart still beats,” Dimitri intertwined their fingers and placed their joined hands over his own heart, “I will be by your side. I promise.”

Byleth froze, his eyes wide.

Did he say something wrong?

The man roughly jerked away from Dimitri, and left the room.

Was that too much? Did Byleth not wish for their commitment to be that long? Dimitri pushed the swirling thoughts from his mind, the man wanted to marry him, Dimitri was being foolish. Still, it was so unlike Byleth to react like that.

He longed to chase after the man, but he knew him well enough by now that if Byleth did not want to be found, he was impossible to track down.

Dimitri tucked the book back into Byleth’s bag and returned to his own room, his heart heavy and pained in his chest.

The next morning, Dimitri woke to the journal on his nightstand, with a messy note saying ‘Please, read it.’

Byleth had left.

Dimitri tucked the journal into the first drawer of his desk, he would not live by the words of the dead any longer. 

He couldn't.

Dimitri didn't see Byleth again until he had reached the monastery. The man seemed to be over his previous frustrations, but Dimitri knew they needed to talk, and they needed to talk badly. However, he could only spare enough time for his troops to resupply and to pick up the healers.

On his way back, he would stop by Garreg Mach again, and be sure they’d have a proper conversation. Something didn't sit right in the back of his mind, a nagging feeling that he knew would not go until he learned why Byleth wanted him to read that journal so badly.

He adjusted the straps of the saddle on his horse, with the saddlebags on, he needed to be sure everything was fitted properly so as not to allow the leather to dig into the animal’s belly. 

A wave of vertigo washed over him, and he stopped his movement to lean on the horse. 

It had been a long time since he had experienced that. Before, it had only happened in battles, followed shortly by Byleth barking orders at them that seemed to go against what the logical course of action was.

Only to be met with the realization that if he had not commanded them to change formation, they would have died.

Dimitri rubbed his temples, ugh, it had been such a long time since that happened. Perhaps he was falling ill?

There were some shouts further into the Monastery, but Dimitri figured it was Seteth scolding someone again. The man may have relaxed after the war, but he was far from laid back.

It wasn't until he saw Dedue freeze, and rush from his side did he actually turn around to see what the ruckus was all about.

Byleth stood at the top of the stairs that led from the front gate, blood soaked the upper half of his garment, seeming to come from his mouth, where red smeared his lips. Seteth was managing to keep him upright, albeit barely.

“Archbishop! What are you doing, we need to get you to the infirmary!”

Flayn was on his other side, her hands glowed, undoubtedly trying to heal whatever wound he bore.

Dimitri didn't think as he rushed up the stairs, and gathered the man in his arms.

“Byleth, what happened?”

“Don’t- D-Don’t go to Enbarr.”

Dimitri furrowed his brows, “We have to leave, Byleth, the people-”

“You’ll all die.”

The certainty in his voice chilled Dimitri.

The man weakly pulled at his cape, his eyes were half-lidded and glazing over, “Promise, please. Please, please, don't go please-”

His voice trailed off into incoherent rambling, and he was right on Seteth’s heels as they ran to the infirmary.

Manuela directed him to lay the man down, and she immediately went to work.

‘Don't go to enbarr, you’ll all die.’

He said it with such conviction, what did Byleth know? 

Who did this to him?

Dimitri was glad he was not holding anything, otherwise it surely would have shattered in his hands.

He was so scared, he couldn't lose Byleth.

“Shit, get out. There’s no heartbeat! Flyan, get over here, Seteth, Dimitri, leave. ”

Dimitri didn't know what was happening as he was pushed from the room.

No heartbeat.

Chapter Text

All this fuss over a heartbeat? 

You humans are so peculiar. 

Dimitri blinked exhaustion out of his mind and rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand. There was a weight on his shoulder, he glanced down to see a mop of blond hair leaning against him. Ingrid clutched her silver spear to her chest, though she seemed to have fallen asleep.

Felix and Sylvain were right beside her, Sylvain tucked into Felix’s chest. The man’s head was propped up on auburn hair, eyes closed, though he seemed to simply be resting, and was not truly asleep.

Dedue stood on the other side of the door frame, his face stern. His axe rested beside his leg, ready to be swung at a moment’s notice should danger strike. Ashe sat beside him, his bow strewn across his lap, though he tried to stay awake, Dimitri could see the way he was starting to nod off.

How long had they all been here?

He realized, a bit belatedly, they were far from the only ones crowding the hall. Flayn and Seteth spoke in hushed whispers at the mouth of his office. Alois, Cathrine, and Shamir stood on the other wall, each armed as Dedue was, standing vigil over Byleth’s room.

Manuela stepped out then, and wiped sweat from her brow, her skin was pale, well, paler. She seemed troubled.

He stood immediately, and only once he was standing did he remember Ingrid had been leaning on him.

She fell to the ground with a thunk of her armor, and a curse at being jolted awake.

“Sorry, Ingrid.”

Manuela pushed her hair back, “You may see him now, he’s not totally coherent, but he’s alive.”

As one the group descended on the entrance of the infirmary, only for Manuala to spread her arms and block them out, “ Hey! Manners, one at a time. Your Majesty, you may enter first, the rest of you will wait until he is actually awake.”

Dimitri bowed, and stepped past her after receiving permission. Manuela hesitated in the doorway, then left the room, softly closing the door behind her.

Byleth looked unharmed.

He was ashen, the bags under his eyes only more prominent, but there were no bandages covering his chest, and no visible wounds he could see. Manuela must have stitched him right up.

Dimitri pulled a chair from a nearby table and dragged it to Byleth’s bedside.

“Hey, you awake?”

“Dimitri?” Byleth’s voice slurred, but he seemed to be at least somewhat aware of his surroundings.

“Yeah, it's me,” Dimitri pulled the hand closest to him between his own, it was cold, but not too clammy or stiff.

“You stayed. Good. Don't think I would have been able to do it again.”

Dimitri frowned, “I sent a messenger to Enbarr, to inform them of an emergency here. What happened?”

“You all died.”

With a heavy breath, he leaned back in the chair and stared at Byleth, did he have a night terror? That would not explain all the blood though, or the fact his heart stopped beating for a point. Still, he clearly was stressed, perhaps he had been attacked by magic?

Dimitri squeezed his hand, “We didn't die, we’re all still here. Me, Dedue, Ingrid, everyone. They're all just outside this room.”

“Alive again. Good.”

“We didn't die Byleth, I promise. You had some sort of nightmare, it's alright now.”

Byleth, even in his current state, still had the energy to level him with an unimpressed look.

“You didn't read it.”

Dimitri could tell this was going to make for an interesting conversation.

“No, I did not.”

Byleth sighed, and grabbed ahold of one of Dimitri’s hands. He struggled to sit up, but managed to do so enough to pull off his glove. Bewildered, Dimirti allowed Byleth to guide his bare hand over his chest, it was tacky with sweat, but warm. 

He could feel the rise and fall of his breathing.

“I don't understand.”

“There is something missing,” Byleth supplied, his voice barely above a whisper, and moved his hand a bit more, right over his heart.

“What do you-”

Dimitri froze.

No heartbeat.

“You don't-”

“It doesn't beat, it never did.”

“H-how?” Dimitri demanded, this whole time, was Byleth just a ghost? Was he truly laying somewhere in the ruined cathedral, waiting for death as his mind tried to fool him with thoughts of a happy future?

He pulled his hand back, though regretted it as soon as he saw the expression Byleth made.

Byleth turned his head away from him, “I was born dead, Rhea did something to me when I was a baby that brought me back to life. I don't have a heart.”

Dimitri glanced over Byleth’s chest, there was an odd scar where his heart was, or, should have been. Dimitri never thought much of it, perhaps some wayward spell or a close brush with death. He certainly had his own fair share of nasty scars.

He needed to process this.

Someone couldn't live without a heart, how was that possible? Yet there Byleth was, laying before him, alive?

Dimitri sought out Byleth’s hand again and held it between his own, his fingers trembled under the weight of his knowledge. He hunched over and brought the man’s hand to his forehead, there was more. He knew there was.

“... What else?”

Byleth turned his head to stare at him, then gazed up to the wooden rafters.

“The thing keeping me alive is a crest stone.”

Dimitri lifted his head, “That's how you can wield the sword of the creator without its stone, the stone -its…”

“My ‘heart’, yes.”

“What else?”

“I’m-”

“Archbishop Byleth, you are awake!”

Dimitri was so damn close to throttling the next person that interrupted his time alone with Byleth.

Seteth strode in, and peered down at him, Flayn at his heels. He sighed and brushed some hair from his face, “We will be postponing the journey.”

Byleth scowled, “Seteth I-”

“No. I do not care, you pushed yourself too much- ah,” Seteth’s attention snapped to Dimitri like a snake, he could almost hear the rattle as the man seized him up.

Then, he turned to Byleth, “Does he know?”

His beloved only glared at Seteth, and did not respond. Dimitri leaned down beside Byleth’s head, “Do you want me to make them leave?”

Seteth sputtered his indignation, Flayn, to her credit, only giggled. 

She plopped down at the foot of the bed and beamed, “It is good to see you awake my friend, I was very worried when I saw you tumbling down the stairs in such a state.”

Byleth sunk further into the pillows, “I’m fine.”

Flayn hummed, and patted his leg, “I know. But I was still worried.”

Dimitri liked Flayn, she was a good woman with a kind soul and a quick wit about her. Seteth however, he often felt lukewarm, at best. Certainly did not hate, much less dislike the man. 

Still.

He was important to Byleth though, and deeply loyal to him, that was enough.

“Manuela said we could relocate you to your room if you're coherent. It’d be more comfortable than this, and you are stable.”

“Then we can go,” Byleth insisted, though Seteth crossed his arms and stared his beloved down with a look that could only be described as parental disappointment.

“No, you need bed rest, a lot of it. Between this and your nightly trips, you have not gotten enough sleep to properly keep yourself healthy.”

Byleth scowled, but sunk further into the bed. He was pouting.

Well, Dimitri could concede it appeared as if he were simply staring off into space with a slight frown, but he liked to think he had familiarized himself with Byleth enough to know that the man was absolutely pouting.

“What trip were you planning on going on?” He asked, perhaps if he wanted to visit somewhere specific, Dimitri could take him there. Though, only once he was sure Byleth was healthy enough to do so.

“Family matters,” Seteth cut in before Byleth managed a response.

“Family matters?” Dimitri found himself staring at Seteth and Flayn a bit more carefully. They both had the similarities of the hair and eyes, sure, but he had never thought… 

When he looked down at Byleth, the man sighed, but nodded, “It's complicated. He’s… more or less my Uncle?”

Huh.

Guess Dimitri knew who he’d have to get the favor of now.

Byleth yawned, his voice began to slur again, “Gonna be a dragon.”

Dimitri chuckled and brushed a lock of hair from his face, “You sure are, beloved.”

He turned his attention to Seteth, who looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin. The man took things too literally, he supposed.

“Seteth, if I may,” Dimitri set Byleth’s hand down over his ribcage and stood, “You know I am courting the professor, yes?”

Seteth snapped out of whatever caused him to freeze, and massaged the bridge of his nose, “Oh yes, I am well aware.”

“Seeing as you are his family, what may I do to obtain your favor and blessing of our partnership?” Dimitri bowed, while Seteth did not raise Byleth, he was still family apparently, and deserved respect all the same.

“You can start by helping us carry him back to his room, and then forget everything he told you.”

“No. It was important to Byleth that-”

“Do not tell anyone then,” Seteth hissed, “This is to stay between us in this room, do you understand? If you let any of what he may have told you out into the public, there would be dire consequences for him, Flayn, and I. I do not care how much you trust this person, there are secrets here that can never be told.”

Dimitri could imagine the kind of havok that’d be caused if it was ever found out the Archbishop didn't have a heart.

No, Byleth did have a heart. Describing him as heartless tasted dirty on his tongue, the man was anything but. He reached out to a monster, and brought him back into the light. No heartless person would ever be so selfless.

Even so. 

He nodded, “I understand.”

Dimitri was careful not to jostle Byleth too much as he cradled the man in his arms. Byleth blinked slowly, and aside from seeming a bit irritated, made no real complaints.

“Ah- Well- I see you have that handled on your own,” Seteth groused, he straightened the lapels of his cape and cleared his throat, “Very well, I will entrust you bring him to his room quickly and safely. Also make sure he gets at least a little sleep, in return… I will see to it that you have some privacy to… Discuss.”

“Thank you.”

Dimitri strode out of the infirmary only to be swarmed by those waiting just beyond the door.

“Professor, are you alright?”

“Teach, what in Ailell did you do this time?”

“Your Majesty, Archbishop, it is good to see you both.”

Byleth sunk further into Dimitri’s arms, his eyes comically wide at the amount of people clambering to get a look at him. He could feel the man bristling at the attention.

Seteth came to the rescue, “ Move, the lot of you, come on. His Majesty will be taking Archbishop Byleth to his room so he can finish recovering, you all will return to your duties or await further instructions.”

Dimitri hoped the smile he shot everyone was reassuring, and made a break for the stairs to the third floor.

When he was free of the crowd, he slowed his pace so Byleth wouldn't have such a bumpy ride.

“I can walk.”

“I know.”

“... You are still carrying me.”

“I am.”

Dimitri glanced down at Byleth, he didn't seem terribly bothered, per se, but admittedly his expression was a bit hard to read.

“Is this making you uncomfortable?”

Byleth draped his head over the side of Dimitri’s arm, “No, but I do not like being treated as though I am of glass.”

“You really scared us.” Dimitri murmured as he climbed the stairs.

“It was not my intention.”

“Byleth?”

“Yes?”

“You… Sounded certain that we would die if we went to Enbarr, are they planning a coup?”

Byleth closed his eyes, “No. You were killed before you even got to Enbarr.”

Dimitri decided to stop correcting Byleth on them ‘dying’, and just went with the flow, “Alright, who killed us?”

“I do not know, but they are affiliated with the same people Solon and Kronya were.”

Dimitri froze.

He would remember those names for a very, very long time. He remembered the way he saw his beloved professor crumple on the ground, sobbing openly for what may have been the first time in his life. He held his dying father in his hands that day.

Or when Solon used that dark magic to seal Byleth away, the rage he felt. The sheer need to rip that man limb from limb for daring to harm his professor.

“Dimitri.”

“Yes?”

“Grip.”

Dimitri nearly dropped Byleth when he realized his hold on the man had tightened enough to bruise.

“Byleth, oh no, I am so sorry- I forgot myself, I-”

“It's fine.”

“It is not fine! I hurt you.”

“I am fine. If I were hurt, I would not allow you to keep carrying me.”

Dimitri didn't like that he had harmed Byleth, but he pushed it aside. The man was right, he was more than capable of freeing himself from Dimitri’s arms, if he so chose. It soothed his guilt, if only just a bit. 

He needed to be more careful, regardless. It would be so easy to genuinely hurt him if he did not stay mindful of his strength.

Dimitri adjusted his hold on the man to one arm, so he could tug back the blankets from Byleth’s neatly made bed. He wondered if someone came up to remake it after Byleth had given them all that heart attack.

He laid him down and pulled the covers up and over him.

“I am not a child.”

“I know.”

“You do not need to tuck me in.”

“I know.”

Byleth narrowed his eyes at him.

“Just… You really scared me, let me take care of you.”

“Fine.”

After receiving his permission, Dimitri did tuck the man in proper, then sat himself on the edge of the bed.

He pulled a hand down his face, a part of him really wished he had read the journal when Byleth asked him to.

“So, your heart doesn't beat, and the ‘heart’ that is keeping you alive is actually a crest stone.”

“Yes.”

Alright. He could deal with that, Byleth was alive, just as he was. Just, in a different way.

“Tell me more.”

Byleth sighed, “The crest stone is actually Sothis’ heart.”

Dimitri choked, “ What? ”

“Hm. Maybe I should have eased into that,” The man murmured behind him, “Regardless, Sothis shares my body.”

“Sothis, as in, the Goddess Sothis? ”

“Yes.”

“What in Ailell are you talking about?”

“If you read the journal this would be far easier.”

“Yes, I am beginning to see that now.”

Dimitri turned to watch Byleth, the man had his eyes closed, largely unbothered by the weight of the words he spoke.

“You share a body with the Goddess.”

“Yes.”

“Alright, ok. Can you… See her?”

“Used to, I can hear her still though.”

“ Used to?”

“She’s been around ever since I could remember. Father always thought of her as my imaginary friend, but he seemed happy that I had a friend regardless. After Solon sent me to that… Place… Sothis and I… Became more as one. So I can no longer see her, but I still hear her.”

“What… What does she say?”

“Now? Or in general?”

Dimitri laughed at the absurdity of the question, “Uh, now?”

“She thinks you are being horribly obtuse and wishes she had a body of her own to, and I quote, ‘knock some sense into you’. ”

Ok, fantastic. 

The Goddess thought he was a moron.

Guess Sothis really was more like a sibling than some ethereal being that knew all.

“Can she… Influence things outside of your body?”

“Used to, not anymore. She does give me the strength for Divine Pulses.”

“Divine what? ” Dimitri could feel a headache coming on. This was preposterous, absolutely ridiculous.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself not to take every word Byleth spoke as fact. One, he trusted the man beyond what was probably considered healthy, but also, he had never once led them astray. He knew Byleth would never lie to them, so that only meant, what he spoke of was true.

As impossible as it seemed.

“So, how does that work? Is she possessing you? Or can she possess you?”

Byleth snorted, “No. She can speak through me, but cannot influence my body without my willingness to do so. Even then, I am still in control, but allowing her to do as she pleases.”

“Huh.” 

It was… So hard to believe. It really was.

Yet being able to wield the sword of the creator, his sudden appearance changes, ripping the heavens open and stepping from the darkness… It made sense he was so deeply connected to Sothis.

Even then, to have a Goddess living inside of you? Dimitri wondered if he had even scratched the surface of all there was to know of his beloved.

“I have overwhelmed you,” Byleth mumbled, his tone was a bit off. Guilty? Perhaps frustrated.

Dimitri turned to face him again and intertwined their fingers, “It is a lot to take in at once, yes. But I believe you, I promise.”

“Would speaking directly to her help?”

The very thought of Byleth letting Sothis take over, even if Byleth was still in control, made him horribly uncomfortable. He remembered the times he himself was so out of it, he couldn't tell where he was, or who he was killing. 

Just that he needed more blood for the dead.

He shook it off and frowned, “Probably not, I… I don't imagine it’s comfortable to have someone talk through you.”

Byleth shrugged, but dropped it.

He wondered what Sothis had to say to that. Had he insulted her? 

This was a lot.

He needed time to internalize everything, and Byleth needed sleep. He really wished he had brought that journal with him.

“I’ll leave you to get some rest-” Dimitri stopped mid-sentence when his cape was grabbed, preventing him from standing fully. Bewildered, he sat back down.

“Stay.”

Dimitri wondered if Byleth felt safer with him there. Whatever he must have seen in that nightmare had to have shook him to his core, so Dimitri nodded, “Alright, I’ll go grab a chair and pull it over.”

“No. Stay and sleep, you need rest too.”

“Ah, ok. I’ll head to the dormitory then?”

Byleth scowled at him, then lifted himself up onto his elbows. The man’s face contorted in pain and he tried to move away from him. Dimitri really wished at times like this Byleth would tell him what was going on inside his mind.

He didn't get very far before grunting and flopping back down on the bed. After a beat, Byleth raised his hand and patted the now vacant space beside him.

Oh.

Oh.

“I- uh, don't think that’s really appropriate.”

Byleth rolled his eyes, then patted the bed again, with a bit more force.

“Alright, alright.”

Dimitri stood, he wanted to get out of his white armor, he doubted that would be terribly comfortable. Yet removing it before Byleth’s unwavering gaze was a bit unsettling.

“Can you uh, close your eyes or something? Or at least not stare at me?”

Byleth raised a brow, but turned his head so he looked at the overhang of the bed, and not Dimitri as he unclasped his cloak and removed his armor. Only when he was clad in the cotton undershirt and trousers, did he finally kick off his boots and carefully settle himself beside Byleth’s resting form.

He remained above the covers, something he knew Byleth snorted at him for, but he couldn't really help it. This was a lot of intimacy, very quickly. Dimitri of course was delighted, but he also was nervous. They hadn't been physically open with their affections yet, Dimitri didn't know where Byleth’s boundaries were, didn't know what scars were still painful, didn't know where he liked to be touched, if anywhere.

He was surprised, then, when Byleth moved his arm and thumped his head onto Dimitri’s chest.

It almost knocked the wind out of him.

Dimitri stiffened, terrified of startling Byleth away.

The man grunted, then adjusted his head, then again, and again. Dimitri was worried the man would give himself a concussion if he kept hitting his head against his chest.

He stopped him from doing it again with a gentle hand. Dimitri shifted a bit so he could look down at him, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to find your heartbeat.”

It was said with such a casual tone Dimitri didn't know what to make of the simple answer. So, he just adjusted himself and guided Byleth’s head to rest over his heart. The man relaxed against him then.

“It's loud,” Byleth slurred, once again falling into a sort of haze.

Dimitri chuckled, an action less because he found it funny, and more because he wasn't sure how else to respond, “Uh, sorry?”

“No, it's a good thing. Means you're alive.”

There was something about that statement that didn't sit well with Dimitri. He moved slowly when he let his arm settle around Byleth’s shoulders, giving the man ample time to push him away or vocalize discomfort. When nothing happened, he let himself relax as well.

“You're alive too,” Dimitri responded.

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

Byleth nodded on his chest, and did not move after that. Dimitri couldn't tell if he was asleep, or just relaxing. Either way, it was important for him to do so, after whatever the hell happened, Dimitri was glad the man was taking it easy.

He heard the door click open and sighed.

Dimitri didn't want to sit up, lest he disturbed Byleth, so instead he raised a hand and pointed in the rough direction of the door.

“ Out. ”

There was a cackle that sounded suspiciously like Felix, then the door closed again.

He felt, more than heard, Byleth speak, “Thank you.”

Dimitri hummed, “Been getting very tired of being interrupted.”

“Not for that,” Byleth murmured, “For staying.”

“Oh,” Unsure what else to do, Dimitri patted the shoulder his hand rested on, “You're welcome.”

“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Sylvain’s voice lowered to a whisper as he leaned close to Dimitri.

He absolutely agreed. And yet, here they were.

Byleth’s movements were a bit slower than usual, but he was able to move around on his own just fine. However, that did not mean he was well enough to follow them to Enbarr.

“Absolutely not, you are still recovering for that little stunt you pulled three days ago!”

For once, Dimitri absolutely agreed with Seteth’s scolding. Especially knowing they were in danger on their route to Enbarr, bringing Byleth along was just foolish. 

Byleth was unfortunately very stubborn, and refused to take no for an answer.

Dagur bared her canines when Seteth strode too close and snarled, the man returned with a similar hiss of his own, and the wyvern chuffed, but stood down. Dimitri wondered how long Seteth had been a wyvern rider, to have such an understanding of their behavior and mannerisms.

“I am fine.”

“No, you are absolutely not. What if that happens again, and there are no trained healers nearby?”

“Manuela is coming,” Byleth supplied, and Seteth groaned.

“Not enough.”

“She healed me before, did she not?”

Seteth massaged the bridge of his nose, “You know why I am concerned, Archbishop.”

Byleth shrugged.

That did bring to attention another concern, however. If Byleth did get injured, Manuela must know of his… Situation by now. Or at least the surface level. If another healer was forced to heal him in combat, would they learn of his secret?

Seteth was right, this was too dangerous.

Dimitri turned his horse around to walk beside the wyvern and her rider, “Byleth, I agree with Seteth. If something were to happen-”

Byleth stared at him with a frown, then at the back of Dagur’s head, “I am capable of taking care of myself.”

Dimitri chuckled, “You absolutely are, but I’m worried. You still do not have all your strength back, what if you do get hurt?”

“I do not have the strength to do it again,” Byleth responded evenly. Dimitri still wasn't sure what he did before, but he knew he’d learn eventually.

“Then why come?”

“Easier if not as far back.”

Dimitri glanced at the soldiers waiting for them, a respectful distance away, then Seteth, “If you and Flayn come as well, would you be less concerned?”

The man straightened at being addressed, and tilted his head, considering. After what felt like ages, Seteth seemed to relent, “Very well. I will come, but Flayn will stay here, I know not what dangers await us, and I will not have her harmed.”

Though when he saw Flayn trotting up to them on her pegasus, with Seteth’s wyvern on her tail, it seemed the man had given up on that front as well. 

“Fine, but neither of you two will be fighting, do I make myself clear?”

“Of course, Brother.”

When Byleth did not respond, Seteth cleared his throat, “ Do I make myself clear, Archbishop?”

Dimitri shrugged when Byleth shot him a woeful look, and trotted up to join with his people. Frankly, having others who knew Byleth’s unusual anatomy eased the concern in his mind.

Not enough for him to think this was a good idea, by any stretch of the imagination, but enough that he’d allow Byleth to come along.

Dimitri wasn't sure when the relatively small band he was leading to Enbarr grew to a small army.

Claude had joined them after the first day, with Lorenz and Hilda. When Dimitri questioned him about it, the man only responded with, “I have an interest in keeping you two alive.”

Dimitri didn't know if that was Claude for ‘You are my friends and I care about you’, or if they were important to a scheme he had cooking. Probably both.

They didn't get as far from the Monastery as he would have liked when they pitched camp. Still, it was expected to move a bit slower with more people.

Dimitri rolled out a map, stuck to the ground with small shivs to keep it flat. Only the light of the campfire and candles illuminated them within the forest.

“If we take Gronder Field south to Merceus, we’d be able to avoid some of the mountains on our journey,” Dimitri pointed out, and scratched his chin.

Byleth squatted beside him, their arms brushed, “No. Go through Aegur territory and along the Morgaine Ravine, the ambush happens at Merceus.”

Dimitri considered it, “It’d add another week, easily, to our already pretty lengthy journey. We are not supplied well enough to go that long.”

“Hunt then, there are some forests on the way, do not break into the rations unless it is dire.”

“Alright, we’ll go around the mountains then. Is it alright for you and Seteth to be gone for so long though?”

“Garreg Mach is not defenseless.”

Dimitri nodded and rolled the map back up, sliding the small knives into a leather pouch for storage, “Very well.”

They stood as one, “I’ll go inform the troops of the change in route.”

Byleth nodded, then headbutted his arm.

It wasn't hard, just a gentle push with his head, though as soon as the action was done, the man left him to join the others around the campfire.

He stared after the man, baffled.

What was that? 

He shrugged it off, and went to inform everyone of their new plans. 

Dimitri hoped things would go smoothly from here on out.

Chapter Text

Traversing mountainous regions on horseback was never easy. The animals did not care for the steep slopes or precarious footing, not that Dimitri could blame them, of course. He couldn't say he was a fan either.

While the rocky summit was easily passed within a day, it still was frustratingly slow. Dimitri did not wish to force his troops to move faster than they were able, yet with Byleth’s warning ringing in the back of his mind, he could not help but to worry for the safety of those in Enbarr. The stone gave way to lush grass, and soon, to trees that reached far above their heads. 

When the woods became too dark to see, he called for them to set up camp.

Tents were pitched, and fires were started, the black of the forest gave way to a gentle orange thrum from their blaze. Dimitri pulled his map from his steed’s saddlebag, and retreated to his tent, so he could do some planning. 

They were a bit behind schedule, even with their longer detour. Still, he imagined his courier had already made it to Enbarr, and the citizens knew he would take longer to arrive. He hoped it was not the start of a bad first impression.

There were a few routes they could, theoretically take, that would shave off a few days of their journey, but Dimitri was leery of straying too far from the path Byleth instructed. Perhaps he could run the different routes by him?

Dimitri grabbed his map and emerged from his tent. 

He must have stood too fast, as when he left his tent, his head started to pound. He shook it off, and walked to the campfire, Byleth stood as he did. Dimitri hesitated at Byleth’s stern expression, then the man ran toward him and kicked the back of his knees, and Dimitri fell with a heavy clank of metal.

Just as an arrow flew over his head.

“We are under attack!” Byleth barked, “Claude, Ashe, take to the sky and shoot who you can see. Sylvain mount up and go left, the group is relatively small, corner them in. Felix, cover him.”

The camp exploded into action. 

Dimitri was on his feet in moments, and ran to grab Areadbhar. There were shouts, and the thunder of his heartbeat in his ears, it felt like an old friend, the familiar fear and disgusting thrill battle brought. Peace was hard, battle was second nature.

He returned to Byleth’s side to intercept a swordsman’s blow to his shoulder, Dimitri adjusted his feet and swung up, pushing the man off balance, and thrust the spear into his chest. He pulled back and trusted his blind side to Byleth, they moved as one. 

A duck there, a roll, a swing. They covered each other, Byleth went low, Dimitri went high. A fatal dance for anyone that came within their sights.

As Byleth had predicted, the group was small, only consisting of about ten men. They fought well, there were some injuries, but none fatal. Dimitri only allowed himself to relax when Byleth sheathed the Sword of the Creator.

Without a word, Byleth strode past Dimitri, and squatted by one of the bodies. They were wearing simple armor, it looked old and worn. No insignias, nor any particularly telling colors either. They didn't seem to be associated with the former Empire. Probably just some usual bandits that got in far too over their heads.

Didn't realize the scope of who they were attacking until too late. He hoped the Goddess welcomed them to her side all the same.

He watched with mild curiosity as Byleth examined the body, as if expecting something unusual to happen, or to find they were not human. Ridiculous, but the way the man kept poking and prodding at them, left Dimitri to wonder.

Satisfied, apparently, Byleth stood and returned to Dimitri’s side, “Just regular people, I think.”

Dimitri nodded, and Byleth thumped his head against his upper arm again, then left to check in with everyone else.

Guess the headbutting was going to be a thing, then.

Dimitri helped with cleanup, discarding the bodies so they were not in the middle of their camp, assuring Manuela and Flayn were able to heal everyone. Though with each person he checked in on, it seemed Byleth had gotten to them first. Dimirti didn't see Byleth take any hits, but he still wanted to make sure the man was alright.

He wandered back to the center of their camp, where many members now huddled around the campfire. Some bandaged, some still tacky with blood, but all alive and in relatively high spirits.

As he studied the gathering, his gaze finally laid on Byleth. The man had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, the ends cast over the backs of those sitting on either side of him, Annette, Mercedes, Ingrid, Sylvain, Hilda… And a few others. They all huddled together under the warmth of the blanket, Byleth at the center with his arms around them, like a mother hen protecting her chicks.

He approached to inquire about the state of his health, but Annette stopped him with a finger to her lips. Dimitri hesitated, and studied Byleth.

The man was asleep, actually asleep.

Warmth settled in the pit of his stomach, a fondness seeped through his body. Byleth was sleeping, and surrounded by those who cherished him as he did. 

Dimitri decided not to disturb him.

When morning came, they continued their journey.

Byleth, Claude, and Ashe, took to the sky. Byleth led their movements, with the other two keeping watch for any signs of other bandits. 

Dimitri wondered what it was like to fly. He never would be a wyvern rider, much less a pegasus one, he much preferred his feet on solid ground. Still though, he wondered.

Byleth took to the air like a fish to water. He showed no fear, in combat or otherwise, despite the earth being so far beneath him. Claude had the same easy-going attitude, perfectly content in the sky, free to watch the movements of those beneath him.

Dimitri wondered if Claude thought of his plans like that, high above the pawns he commanded.

Ashe was a bit less comfortable in the air, yet still showed no fear in the face of the height. Perhaps since he was, all things considered, relatively new to riding wyverns. He had yet to gain his bearings for the air, as Byleth and Claude did.

Maybe one day he’d ask if Dagur would allow him to hitch a ride with Byleth, he’d like to see what flying was like, just the once.

They made a good distance before they set up camp once more. 

Ashe and Dedue took off to hunt for them, as Byleth and Mercedes prepared the fire. The two chatted quietly, a soft smile rested on Byleth’s face when Mercedes laughed at something said. Annette joined them after a bit, helping stoke the flames with licks of magic from her palms.

Not terribly long had passed when Ashe and Dedue returned, a boar hefted upon the man’s right shoulder, three arrows sticking from the animal’s skull. Byleth directed Dedue to drop the carcass beside the fire, and the two went to work on skinning the animal and flaying its flesh to be cooked.

As the meat cooked, merriment began in full form. Somebody had brought alcohol and decided now was the best time to crack some open and share. 

Dimitri had the sneaking suspicion it was Claude, given by the way he wouldn't stop smiling at everyone getting drunk off their ass.

Everyone except Byleth, that is.

“Have you ever drank before, Professor?”

Byleth stared at the dark liquid that swirled in the tankard he held, then to Sylvain, who leaned on his shoulder with a catty grin.

“Yes.”

“Really? I wouldn't take you for the type!” Sylvain laughed, “How much can you drink?”

“Enough, I do not enjoy the taste of alcohol much.”

Sylvain patted Byleth’s shoulder, “No one drinks ale for the taste.”

“Then why drink it?” 

Dimitri chuckled to himself at the way Sylvain patted Byleth’s head.

“Let's get you drunk, and you’ll find out.”

So, Sylvain started to try and get Byleth drunk. Only really succeeding in getting drunk himself.

It brought Dimitri back to one of the passages he did read of Jeralt’s journal. Where Byleth’s mother had drunk a man under the table, much as Byleth himself was doing to Sylvain now. The arm around his shoulders became less of a friendly gesture, and more of a lifeline to keep him upright.

Dimitri wondered if Byleth looked like his mother.

He wondered if Jeralt felt the same surge of love wash over him as he did, watching the scene unfold. And, he wondered if on that night, he felt the same as Dimitri did, watching Byleth.

The headbutting thing was becoming almost normal.

Any time Byleth passed him in camp, on his way to speak to someone or mount Dagur, a gentle thump on his upper arm was felt when he walked by.

That said, Dimitri still for the life of him could not understand why Byleth was doing this.

Claude laughed from a fallen tree he had made his bench for an evening. Dimitri, not busy with anything at the time, decided to join and sit beside him. 

“May I ask why you are laughing?”

“Honestly? Mostly it's just your face, you look so damn confused.”

Dimitri rubbed the back of his neck, “Well yes, I am. I don't really know what he’s doing, he only seems to do it to me.”

“I had a friend like him once,” Claude leaned back on his hands and swung his ankle to rest on his knee, “Weird kid, didn't talk much, but nice. He’d do that as affection, kinda like… In place of a hug or something. Not a big fan of being touched, so I guess that was his way of finding a middle ground.”

“Huh.” Was Byleth expressing affection? The thought warmed Dimitri’s heart, “Where is your friend now? I do not believe I’ve met them.”

Claude’s smile wavered, but in a blink it was back to normal, “Dead.”

“Oh, I am… You have my condolences.”

“Eh, we weren't really close or anything, died a long time ago too. No big deal.”

Dimitri didn't think he believed him, but he let the subject lay as it was. He knew the pain digging up those long dead could bring, so he was content to sit in amicable silence as he watched Byleth do his nightly rounds with everyone before they all tucked in to sleep.

When Byleth trotted past them, Claude spoke up, “Hey teach!”

The man paused, then turned to regard him curiously.

“Can I have a headbutt too?” 

Byleth narrowed his eyes at him, looked him up and down, then turned on his heel, “No.”

Claude made a show of being offended and hurt, Dimitri chuckled and patted him on the back.

The days seemed to blend and blur together as they traveled. They came upon a lively little stretch of land. If Dimitri’s map was still correct, this was House Aegir’s territory.

The land was lush with farms and the village at its heart seemed to be in excellent shape. Dimitri could see what was likely the lord’s mansion utop a hill just above the village itself. With their food supply starting to run a bit thin, Dimitri decided taking a small detour into the village for a night would be good for everyone.

The people celebrated his decision.

As they approached, Dimitri was a bit surprised the town itself seemed to be more of a fishing port than the hilled farmlands had him believe. Though, given it was built along an ocean, it made sense much of their wealth would come from fishing.

It was interesting, some people recognized him immediately, some only took them as a wary group of mercenaries, with shiny gear. Dimitri, in a way, wished people would mistake him for something other than royalty more often.

There was a short whistle and rustle of fabric beside him. When he turned to regard Byleth, the man lowered his hand just as Dagur took off to the sky, circling above them. Shortly after, Ashe and Seteth followed suit, their wyverns flying above them as they entered the town properly.

“What was that for?”

Byleth hummed, “Dagur doesn't like groups of people.”

“She battles just fine with us.”

“ Civilians, she doesn't like civilians,” He clarified and made a grabbing motion, “Too touchy.”

Dimitri laughed.

“They don't know boundaries, any warrior knows not to run up to wyverns. Commonfolk are dumb, and see something and want to pet it without any sort of permission or warning.”

Well, when put like that, Dimitri couldn't say he wholly disagreed. Though when he glanced over his shoulder to Claude, he noticed his snowy mount still walked alongside him, seemingly content. 

“Nendruil likes attention,” Byleth supplemented, “Like rider like wyvern, I suppose.”

“Nendruil?”

“That's his name, the wyvern. It means something in Almarian, I think?”

“Huh, what of Dagur? Does her name mean anything?”

“She’s pointy.”

Dimitri chuckled, he supposed that much was obvious, “Fair enough.”

As their conversation petered out, two children bounded up to the side of his horse. They were well dressed, but likely not of a noble family.

“What's your horse’s name? She is very pretty,” The younger of the two, with dark curly hair spoke up, “Can I pet?”

“At least they asked permission,” He heard Byleth grouse beside him as he swung off his horse’s back.

“He doesn't actually have a name, and yes, you can pet him. Be gentle though.”

“You should call him Juniper!” The child exclaimed, and ran to the otherside of Dimitri, where he had the horse’s reins in hand. The kid patted the horse’s neck and giggled.

“What? No! He’s a boy, he can't be called Juniper!” The eldest exclaimed, with similar dark hair, Dimitri imagined them to be brothers.

“Yeah he can!”

“No way, he should be called something strong, like, uh, like Axe!”

“Juniper’s prettier!”

“No way!”

Byleth snorted, “Just call him Juniper Axe and be done with it.”

The two kids startled at Byleth’s even voice, likely didn't notice the man standing on the other side of the steed they were so enamoured with. He stared at them quietly, and the children shied away from him and closer to Juniper Axe.

It was blink and you miss it, but Dimitri could have sworn he saw Byleth frown when the kids shrunk at his presence. The man turned and left, joining the rest of the group as they all dismounted their respective rides and got everything together so travel through a town would be easier.

“Where are- Oh for the love of the Goddess, boys please don't bother these folk!”

A woman, likely their mother, trotted forward, her hair was long and dark, though not curly like the brother’s. She had warm honey eyes and a stern expression. Dimitri did not envy the scolding the two children were about to get.

She halted in her tracks as soon as Dimitri turned to her, eyes wide.

“Don't worry Ma’am, the two are quite alright, in fact, they helped me name my horse here.”

“Y-your Majesty! I am so so sorry for the trouble those two have caused!” She swooped down, picked up the youngest, and grabbed the elder by the wrist.

“It wasn't a bother, really. They are quite polite young men.”

“Oh um, thank you, Your Majesty,” The woman took a couple steps back, “Thank the King boys, he was being very patient with you.”

“Thank you!”

“Thanks.”

The woman was then quick to scurry away.

Dimitri wondered if he frightened her or something. His hand moved to the edge of his leather eyepatch without thinking. 

Ah.

He was unable to wallow in his self-pity much longer as a familiar voice called out to them.

“My friends! What a pleasant surprise! You should have sent word you were coming, I would have arranged a banquet for you all.”

“Ferdinand, it is great to see you,” Warmth filled Dimitri’s heart at the sight of the man, it had been a long time since he had seen him. The bridge, he believed, was the last place he saw him. When bloodlust still fanned his flames.

“Your Majesty, you look much healthier now,” The man came up to him and tossed a friendly arm around his shoulders, pulling him down a bit to match his height, “Less like a wet rat, and more like a man. I’m glad.”

Felix’s laughter could be heard even from the back of the group. He sounded like a strangled goose.

“I… I do not think my manor has enough room for all of you,” He mused, gentle eyes scanning the group. Dimitri could almost hear the man do a head count.

“It is quite alright, we had anticipated staying at an inn, if you have a vacancy.”

“You expect me to let the King sleep in an inn?”

“Yes?”

Ferdinand clicked his tongue, though perked when a splash of green curles made her way to the front of their group, “Flayn! It has been ages, you left me on edge with your last letter, how has their courtship progressed?”

The woman froze, buried her head in her hands, and immediately went in the opposite direction.

“I am going to take a guess that it is regarding Byleth and I?”

“Oh yes! We write quite frequently and she was telling me all about your two’s mishap, but she was quite confident you’d make it up.”

“We did,” Dimitri could not even bring himself to be that irritated, “I am properly courting Byleth.”

“Congratulations, I am sure you two will be happy together. Then now, about your sleeping arrangements…”

Despite the young lord’s anguish, Dimitri and his friends all holed up in an inn, with only a few going to stay with him. Dimitri was adamant on staying with the bulk of his people, and insisted he was perfectly happy sleeping in a temporary room for the night.

Byleth still seemed on edge, but without any proper privacy, Dimitri had yet a chance to inquire.

He was glad to see him eating though.

Dedue sat on his right, Ingrid on his left, Byleth was at a nearby table with the familiar faces of some soldiers, as well as Felix and Sylvain. It was nice to see the man actually in the company of others, Dimitri wondered if Byleth got lonely as he did, in his time at Garreg Mach. Sure, he was surrounded by people, much like he himself was, but how many were friends? How many could he confide in? Laugh with?

Steal the food of when one was turned away yelling at another from their table?

He chuckled as Byleth swiftly and quietly swapped bowls with Sylvain, who currently was shouting at a soldier seated near the end of their table. It was friendly banter, but with enough heat to it that the man didn't keep an eye on his food as Byleth ate his serving as well.

“There it is, told you.” 

Dimitri snapped from his stupor at Ingrid’s voice, she leaned on her hand and a coy grin snaked her lips. 

Dedue beside him chuckled, “I know.”

“What?”

Ingrid pointed to her mouth, “Your smile, it’s different when you look at his Grace, softer.”

Dimitri coughed into his hand and resumed eating, “Yes, well, he is a great man.”

“Oh he absolutely is,” Ingrid agreed, “I love him too, but the way you look at him is sooo… Well, it's nice. I’m glad Byleth has someone like you courting him.”

“This will be interesting,” Dedue mumbled beside him, it brought Dimitri’s attention back to Byleth, where a woman made a place for herself at his side.

Even from here, Dimitri could tell he was wildly uncomfortable, and the way Sylvain’s eyes narrowed at her spoke only of trouble. He remained where he was though, Byleth was a grown adult, and certainly was not helpless. If Byleth wanted her gone, he would make it clear. So, he took a sip of his rum and watched.

“Hello there, haven't seen you around here before.”

Byleth grunted.

“A man of few words, I see. I prefer it that way, honestly,” The woman’s long blond hair was tied away from her face with beaded leather. Her pose was in such a way that could not have been comfortable, but left her smooth curves plain for all to see. She was lovely, Dimitri could admit, but not his type.

“I see you are a man of action, you are quite well built,” She lowered her voice so Dimitri couldn't hear the rest of her words. 

Byleth scooted away, but the woman followed him with her body, cozying up beside him. Almost forcing him into what could loosely be described as an embrace. Her mouth moved, but Dimitri couldn't pick out exactly what she was saying.

Sylvain leaned around Byleth, and purred, “Well if that's all you want honey, surely I can provide. Such a woman like yourself shouldn't have to spend the night alone.”

Dimitri bristled, was the woman trying to seduce Byleth? He put down the spoon he was holding, lest he bend the metal in his hand. He wanted nothing more than to go over there and drag Byleth away from her, but he kept himself where he was. Dimitri was a King, he had a duty to protect those beneath his rule, never to harm them.

That, and he trusted Byleth, he knew the man would never betray his faith. 

Still irritated him, nonetheless.

It dawned on him that Felix was watching the exchange. The man observed the woman with a cold eye, but continued to eat and drink, despite his lover’s flirtations. Dimitri always thought they were exclusive, or if nothing else, Felix was not one to share.

“Oh come on,” The woman draped herself over his shoulder, “ Anything, just introdu-”

Byleth stood and immediately left the table, nearly causing the woman to fall to the floor. She glared after the black cloak, only for her eyes to widen when Byleth sat himself on the other side of Dimitri, and grabbed his hand. 

Dimitri welcomed any sort of affection, and laced their fingers together. Byleth’s hand was warm against his own. 

“Oh no, I think Sylvain is going to cry,” Ingrid snorted, her mouth partly full of the fish stew they were served for the evening.

Dimitri leaned over to look around Byleth’s shoulder, Sylvain’s face was red, and he had a hand over his mouth. The woman had already left the table, and only a moment passed before Sylvain started laughing hard enough to actually cry. Felix chuckled along with him.

He must have looked confused, as Byleth spoke up, “She wanted to have sex with me in exchange for introducing you to her, in a favorable light. She wanted to marry you, I guess.”

Ingrid joined in with Sylvain’s laughter.

“Ah, very bluntly put, thank you Byleth,” He sighed, and rubbed his thumb along Byleth’s knuckles. With gloves in the way, Dimitri couldn't see the scars that wrapped around his fingers. 

Dimitri wondered if sharing a bed would become routine for them as well. 

Byleth watched him as he unclasped his cloak, and started to remove his armor. It had taken the man no time to strip to his undergarments when they walked into the room together. Dimitri still felt self conscious when he stripped down, but ultimately swallowed his nerves and finished undressing until he was clad in just his cotton underclothes.

Their weapons rested beside their nightstand, Byleth’s dagger glinted a brilliant blue in the candlelight.

He sat on the edge of the bed, beside his beloved, “What has been troubling you? You’ve been on edge ever since those bandits attacked.”

“We were supposed to be safe, the ambush should have happened at-”

Dimitri cupped his beloved’s cheek, “It was hardly an ambush, Byleth, just some people that got in too over their head.”

“You died.”

“I didn't, see? I am alive and well.”

“The arrow, it went right through your skull, you didn't die immediately you suffered so much-”

Dimitri grabbed Byleth’s hands before they reached his hair, this was something they needed to talk about. Things didn't add up.

“Explain it to me, Byleth.”

“I am the vassal of the Progenitor God.”

“Go on.”

“I have Sothis’s control over our world, to a point. I am able to turn back the hands of time, use a Divine Pulse, to go back in time and keep- keep things from happening.”

It made sense, Dimitri supposed, that Byleth would have some of the power Sothis did. So, he could go back in time, alright. 

But that didn't explain- Oh.

Dimitri’s eye widened as he realized, that it explained so much. It explained everything.

Byleth’s impeccable tactics in battle, how he could be so sure of enemy movements, the way he fretted over them after hard-won battles. 

That must have meant they really did die in some future, on their way to Enbarr. To that extent, Dimitri died when that arrow meant for his head hit it’s mark. Or, some version of him.

“You’ve watched us all die before, haven't you?”

Byleth did not respond, but Dimitri knew the answer.

There were endless questions Dimitri wanted to know, so many things he wished to learn, but the hard set of Byleth’s brow, and the practiced numbness in his eyes… He knew he was in no state for that. Instead, Dimitri pulled the man close with an arm around his shoulders, and without thinking, kissed the crown of his head.

“Oh, Beloved…” He rested his cheek on soft hair, “I believe you, and I trust you. Trust me as well, we will get through this, alright? Together.”

Byleth nodded against his chest, and pulled back. Oftentimes Dimitri felt as though the man before him could see through him every time their eyes met. Yet, something about this was different. It was not guarded, just a simple warmth to them Dimitri had come to adore.

Dimitri brought his other hand up, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

They leaned into one another, Dimitri could smell the soft scent of pine from Byleth’s hair as it fell in his face.

A headache bloomed in his skull when Byleth pulled back, then in a smooth motion, took his dagger from the bedside table, and threw it at the door. The blade sunk into the wood with a thunk, followed shortly by a surprised yelp.

“I take you are busy,” Seteth’s voice was strained, “We shall speak tomorrow, then.”

Dimitri stared at the dagger lodged in the door, stunned. Had… Had Byleth used his magic to keep them from being interrupted again?

He opened his mouth to inquire when he faced his beloved again, but was only met with a tug and lips crashed against his own. Byleth’s teeth nicked his lip, it was rough, unpracticed, and messy. 

Dimitri pulled back and laughed, “Warn me next time, so I can actually kiss you back.”

Byleth’s cheeks flushed red, and he nodded, “Can I kiss you?”

“Of course.”

The second time their lips met, it was far sweeter. Byleth’s lips were chapped from their travels, but he imagined his were none better. His beloved was tentative, following Dimitri’s lead as he adjusted his head to get a better angle to keep their noses from squishing against each other.

They parted.

The kiss was chaste, but left Dimitri wanting more. Dimitri got the impression Byleth was never romantically close to anyone, given by the way he touched his lips with furrowed brows. Or, maybe he was, but it had been a long time.

Whatever lovers he may have had in the past were just that, in the past, Dimitri was glad he could be just a bit greedy, and have this part of Byleth to himself. 

He leaned down and brushed their foreheads together, “Lets get some sleep, we still have days of travel ahead of us.”

Byleth hummed, “Yes, we do.”

Dimitri jolted upright, the pouding of screams and war rang fresh in his mind. His breath was shallow, he couldn't breathe, he needed air, he-

Warmth enveloped his side, and he jerked away from the source, his eye adjusting to the dark of wherever he was. Something was in the bed with him, he was in danger, he needed to- he… 

Byleth, still half asleep, clung to his middle, hair disheveled and despite his clear exhaustion, trying his damndest to blink awake. He was alive, real. Beside him, everything was fine. Dimitri relaxed, and laid back down, pressing his head to Byleth’s chest.

He was warm, he could feel the rise and fall of his breaths, the slight hitch when he tightened his grip around him. 

The lack of a heartbeat.

Panic laced his mind for a moment, he was dead. Dimitri failed him, failed to protect the one man he adored above all else. Then, memories came flooding back, the knowledge of who Byleth truly was. 

Byleth was alive, just in a different way. 

There were hands on his shoulder, gently pushing him. Dimitri relaxed his grip, and allowed himself to be flipped over, away from Byleth’s chest. He got up on his elbow, worried Byleth had noticed how he stiffened, but was brought back down to the sheets with the man curling around his back. 

Byleth’s head rested on the back of his neck, and his arms wrapped around his ribs. After a couple moments, Dimitri allowed himself to relax, and interlaced their fingers. The gentle push of Byleth’s chest with each breath he took served to calm him of his fear. 

“Sorry for waking you up,” He murmured to the wall he faced.

“It is fine, are you ok now?”

“Yeah, I am. Though, if it’d be alright, can you… uh… Talk? So I know you're still-” Dimitri cut himself off before he said ‘alive’, and instead finished with, “Still there.”

“Okay. My dad liked to sing, when he was still alive. He’d get tipsy with the other mercenaries and they’d sing together. They all sucked, none of them could carry a tune to save their lives. But it made them happy, it was the first time I learned that people do not have to be good at something to enjoy it.

“All the mercenaries I grew up with, even after father passed, they stayed with me. A lot of them are actually knights now, and the ones that aren't, stay at the monastery anyway. I always thought they disliked me, honestly. I didn't realize until after he passed that they cared for me as much as they did Jeralt.”

Byleth continued to talk, rambling about the first things that came to his mind, no doubt. Hearing his voice lulled the fear in his bones, and soothed his anxiety. Even without the beat of a heart, Byleth was still there, with him, alive.

As sleep overtook his body, he could hear Byleth singing something. He couldn't understand the words, but it was warm, and felt safe.

Just like Byleth.

Chapter Text

Dimitri woke to the scent of pine. 

His eyelids were heavy, though after blinking a few times, he began to feel more aware. Sunlight filtered through the window, the beams of light trickled their way to the wooden floorboards of the room, and a small section of the heavy woven blanket.

When he moved to sit up, a weight on his shoulder and chest stopped him.

Byleth had his head cushioned by his collarbone, the upper half of his torso and arm draped along his chest and ribcage. Each breath Dimitri took tickled the light hair just beneath his chin. He pressed a kiss to Byleth’s crown, and allowed himself to relax.

It was early enough that Dimitri could spare a little longer to idly lay there before they would have to rise and get moving. He was a bit disappointed, that from the angle they were at, he could not see Byleth’s face as he slept. Though, knowing the man was actually asleep was enough for Dimitri to remain still.

He entertained himself by counting the slow breaths Byleth took. Perhaps he should have felt embarrassed by the way they were tangled up in eachother, but… He wasn't. He was quite content, truth be told. Maybe it was indecent, but in the early haze of the morn, Dimitri couldn't find it in himself to care. 

Byleth was asleep and content, Dimitri was happy for that.

A gentle knock on the door brought him from his idle musings. Byleth shifted against him, grumbling something into the cotton of Dimitri’s shirt. 

Ah, well. There went his sleep.

“Who is it?” Dimitri called, given Byleth was stubbornly pretending to be asleep, he’d take up the duty of responding to the knock. It could be important.

Green curls peeked out from the door, Flayn had her eyes closed, “It is I! Are you decent?”

Byleth snorted a rumbling laugh, clearly not entirely awake, and Dimitri chuckled with him.

“We are, Flayn, what is the matter?”

She opened her eyes and bounded into the room, “Brother wishes to speak to Byleth, he has news of what he asked his friend to look into.”

Byleth stirred and actually sat up, one eye remained closed, and there was a spot of dried drool on his cheek, “Yuri wrote back?”

Flayn giggled at his disheveled appearance, “Yes he did. Though you may want to um, clean up a bit. You look terrible.”

Byleth opened his other eye for what seemed to be the sole purpose of leveling her with a half-hearted glare.

“Nobody wakes up looking good,” Byleth drawled, then glanced over his shoulder to Dimitri, tilted his head, then turned to Flayn and added, “Except Dimitri.”

Flayn’s giggles descended into actual laughter. Dimitri felt heat rush to his cheeks, and he covered his undoubtedly blushing face with his hands.

“I will leave you two to get dressed then! Seteth wishes to talk at Ferdinand’s home, more privacy. I’ll take you over there, just come out when you're ready!”

Flayn danced out the door and closed it quietly behind her.

“Beloved you can't just say things like that,” Dimitri laughed despite himself.

Byleth turned to face him, “Why not?”

It was such a genuinely ernest and confused question, Dimitri didn't have the heart to tell him it was embarrassing. So instead, he pushed himself upright and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead. Byleth’s brows furrowed, likely confused even more, but Dimitri just smiled and oriented himself to slide from the bed.

Byleth was quick to follow, and the two dressed in silence.

Dimitri absently brushed some of the man’s hair with his fingers, smoothing it out to look less like a mess. His hair was a little greasy, perhaps they should take Flayn’s advice and utilize the baths while they all were here. 

They could do that after they spoke with Seteth, or, after Byleth spoke with him. Dimitri was unsure what the information Byleth had asked to be looked into, but he imagined it would be something meant to keep under lock and key.

Byleth was telling him about himself, bit by bit. Dimitri did not need to know everything at once, he knew the man would tell him as he was ready. Still, a part of him wished he could just know everything now, partly curious, but also genuinely he wanted to be able to support Byleth. Knowledge was power, at the end of the day.

As they left the room, Byleth yanked the dagger from the door it had been embedded in, and sheathed it. He squinted at the thin hole left in the wood, Dimitri couldn't discern what he was thinking, so instead he placed a hand between his shoulders and guided him out from the room, “I’ll cover whatever cost there will be to fix it.”

“I have money.”

“I know, but I want to do this for you.”

Byleth did not respond, but his body language spoke of a stubbornness Dimitri had come to find endearing. Dimitri would have to be quick to make sure he was the one to pay off the door, still, it could wait until after Byleth spoke to Seteth.

“Ah good, you both are up!” Flaun jumped from a seat she had taken in the dining area of the inn. 

She had a tankard between her small hands, and despite knowing she was very much of drinking age, a part of him did not want her drinking ale. She may be physically old enough, but spiritually? 

Goddess forbid.

She offered the drink to Byleth, now that it was closer, he could smell it was not alcohol, but rather some sort of tea. He didn't recognize the scent though.

“It’ll help the pain,” She supplied, and Byleth took it gratefully.

That, however, was not something Dimitri was willing to let go.

“Pain?” He frowned at the way Byleth seemed to shrink against the mug he held between his gloved hands.

“Nothing to be concerned about,” He responded, tone dull and even, before drinking the thing in one go.

That was absolutely a lie, he knew the man well enough to know that much. Flayn seemed to sense the tension between them, and coughed into her fist, “Ah well, we must be going! Brother is not very patient, y’know.”

Dimitri nodded to her, and the three left the inn.

It was definitely not over though, he’d be sure to confront Byleth about the apparent pain he had been dealing with, and did not inform Dimitri of. Things of his past he was willing to let Byleth take his time on, but matters of the present? Especially when in regard to his health? 

An entirely different matter.

“I will be sure you all have the utmost privacy, in fact, I can stand guard outside the room for you!”

“That will not be necessary, Ferdinand,” Seteth pulled out a deep red chair from a desk in the middle of the study, and took a seat.

“Ah, well. Do call if you need anything then, I am but a shout away!”

“Thank you, Ferdinand,” Byleth spoke up before Seteth could, offering a mild smile in the young lord’s direction. The man perked up and closed the door behind him.

“Now, then,” Seteth pulled out the scroll he must have received recently.

Dimitri was both surprised and honored to be allowed to stay, though he believed that was mostly in thanks to Byleth stating that he would. Perhaps it was, in a way, him trying to be more open with his current problems. He was still a bit irritated to find out he was in pain from Flayn, but he couldn't fault Byleth entirely.

He never was one to speak of his own struggles.

Dimitri pulled a chair up beside his beloved and sat down, Flayn perched beside her brother on the other side of the desk.

Byleth grabbed the scroll and unwound it, his eyes scanned over the words, his face grew more and more confused. Perhaps distressed? It was a bit hard to discern the two, either way, he was not happy with what he read.

“Seteth, can you confirm this?”

“Yes, what Yuri proposes is in fact accurate, as far as my memory serves. However, Flayn and I left long before it fell to ruin.”

“So… Then the god at the altar there is…”

“A Nabatean, most likely, yes.” 

Byleth rolled the paper back up, a frown settled on his face, “Why though? It does not make sense, if the Abyss was originally built by them, then why worship one of their own?”

“Humans often worshiped… uh... them. Their lifespans rendered them gods in their mind, even if only one truly had the power to take such a title. Until, well… You know.”

Byleth massaged the sides of his head, though frankly, much of this conversation went over Dimitri’s head. He had read once, about an ancient race of mythical people known as the Nabeteans, but it was so brief and such a long time ago, it had long since been pushed from his mind. Dimitri wondered if humans worshiped those fictional beings many, many years ago.

It was interesting to find the Abyss was built before the Monastery though, he had very vague memories of the place when he still was a student there. He would have to read up on them, he decided, though still unsure what this meant to Byleth.

Dimitri turned to Byleth, “Why is it important?”

From the corner of his eye, Seteth bristled.

“It is… Complicated,” Byleth frowned, and stared at his hands, some beats passed before he slumped, “I will explain it another day, when we have more time. There is.. There is much to go over.”

“Byleth…”

“I will not keep secrets from him, Seteth,” Byleth’s tone was uncharacteristically cold, enough so that even Flayn flinched under the hiss.

Seteth turned his attention to Dimitri, regarded him for a couple beats, then looked back to Byleth, “Words that are spoken, cannot be taken back. Are you sure this is wise?”

“I trust him.”

Seteth nodded, “Very well.”

The man stood, and left the room, Flayn on his heels. She spared an apologetic glance at them both, before the door clicked softly behind her.

“Does Seteth find me untrustworthy?” Dimitri could not help but feel a pang of hurt from the accusation, as if he would ever in his life speak something to endanger his beloved. Or anyone else, for that matter.

“No, he quite likes you, actually,” Byeth grunted, largely unbothered by the previous spat, “However, there are many secrets about this land that have been guarded viciously. Revealing them to the world would put lives at stake.”

“I see,” Dimitri chuckled and brought Byleth’s gloved hand to his lips, “You seem to get tangled up in the strangest of matters.”

Byleth smiled, a gentle warmth filled his eyes, “I suppose.”

They were packed. All mounts were accounted for, and the group prepared to leave. Dimitri mounted Juniper Axe, and turned his steed to the entrance of the town while he waited for the rest of the people to finish preparing.

Dimitri was still a fair bit slighted by Byleth. Before Dimitri even had a chance to approach the women at the counter that ran the inn, Byleth actually ran past him, slaped what had to have been ten gold pieces down, and stated it was to repair the damaged door.

He looked over his shoulder then, and a mischievous smile Dimitri had never seen crawled along his lips. The woman that took the money seemed very confused, but thankful all the same. Dimitri would find a way to get back at him for that.

He was brought from his sulking, by a joyous pair of voices laughing.

Flayn and Ferdinand spoke to each other animatedly, she had such a bright smile on her face, it was sweet. She giggled again at something he said, though Ferdinand seemed blissfully unaware as to why she was.

His attention shifted to Byleth, he stood on the further edge of the town’s territory, Dagur beside him, she was still as he adjusted the straps for her saddle. The wyvern snapped at Nendruil when he strayed too close, he was swift to cow away. She shook her body, and Byleth covered his mouth. 

While too far away to hear, Dimitri imagined he was laughing.

Ferdinand wished them all the greatest of luck on their journey west. Dimitri could understand the longing in his eyes to go with them, yet, as a lord, the needs of his people were to always come first. It was something Dimitri was all too familiar with.

So they left, and traveled alongside towering mountains. Their peaks lost amongst the clouds. He wondered if they reached the heavens, where the Goddess was said to live. Then, he turned his gaze to Byleth, flying a fair bit ahead of them with Claude and Seteth.

Though, he supposed the Goddess was far closer than anyone would have ever thought.

The further west they went, the more the repairs for the carnage of war were needed. So little time had truly passed since the end of it. He wondered if there would be anything he could do to repair the smaller towns, affected by the bloodshed around them. 

Trees were burnt, as if a great fire had swept through the ashen forest they traversed through. An eerie quiet settled over the group.

Dimitri knew this was not his own doing, he did many things he was disgusted with himself for, but he knew whatever happened to the once forest was not from his direct action. Perhaps indirectly from the war, yet as Juniper Axe sneezed when a bit too much ash was kicked up by the flap of Ashe’s wyvern rising to join the other three… It seemed far too fresh.

Beneath the soot, there were no signs of growth yet. If this truly had happened during the war, saplings and signs of life would undoubtedly be seen from the carnage, right? He urged his people to pick up the pace, something about that forest did not sit right with him.

A week had passed when they finally made it to the gates of Enbarr.

There were some areas of the bridge that passed over the rushing water beneath that were crumbled and worn. Yet the structure was still in overall fantastic shape. Dimirti was pleased, though the further they got in, the worse it would likely be.

The gates were meant to withstand war afterall, the city beyond its protection, was not.

The heavy wooden door creaked open when he and his people stopped at the end of the bridge. There was shouting above them from the watchtower and Dimitri hoped his courrier made it safely.

The inside of the protective walls were not as bad as he expected, but far from at a place Dimitri felt easy. Many buildings were still in the process of being rebuilt, some still crumbed, brick and stone left in piles where a home may have once been. Guilt ate away at his mind.

He tried so hard to keep from damaging the city when they fought, yet, the beasts Huburt summoned did not have the same care. The man had grown desperate, willing to destroy his own people to protect Edelgard. Dimitri wondered, if under different circumstances, he would have done the same for Byleth.

He shook the horrid thought from his mind, and dismounted his steed. 

A hush settled over the city, many people almost frozen in place at the sight of him. None spoke, some went inside, others hurried along their business. Shame pricked up his spine, of course the people would be frightened of him, after all he had done.

His saving grace, however, came in a trio of natives there, all smiles and open arms.

Except Lindhardt, who seemed far too tired to be bothered with the trivialities of greeting people, unlike his two companions, Dorothea and Caspar.

Dorothea was quick to embrace him, catching the king quite off guard. He patted her shoulders awkwardly, and she pulled back with a massive grin, “Oh I am so glad you are alright! When your courrier arrived to inform us of an emergency, we were so worried.”

Dimitri was touched, warmth filled his chest, “Thank you, Dorothea, your concern flatters me.”

She snorted and gently pushed at his upper arm, “No need to be so formal, your Majesty, but if you do it again I will send Caspar after you, do not test me.”

Dimitri chuckled, especially since said man was nearly squeezing the life from Byleth. He had the other wrapped in a hug tight enough to lift him from the ground. Despite it looking rather painful, Byleth did not appear bothered, and instead patted the tuft of blue hair that had buried itself into his chest.

“Well,” Dorothea hummed, “Maybe I’ll send Petra instead, she’d be far less likely to hug you to death.”

“This little reunion is touching and all, but can we take it somewhere other than the middle of the street? People are staring.”

Caspar set Byleth down at the sound of Lindhardt tired voice, “Yeah, yeah. Come on! Dorothea already prepared sleeping arrangements for you all!”

Panic seized Dimitri’s chest.

Were they to stay in Edlegard’s palace? He couldn't- He couldn't go there. Not yet, he wasn't ready. He’d rather sleep on the street than set foot in those bloodstained halls. There was a tap on his armor, and he glanced down at Dorothea, her brows furrowed, and she spoke, “I set up arrangements at an inn further on, it is right next to the opera house.”

She spoke no more, but a sense of relief washed over him. He wondered if his fear had shown on his face.

“Thank you, truely.”

She waved him off with a smile, “Oh please. It was no big deal, but what is a big deal, is that you reek. Please take the opportunity to relax and use the bathhouse.”

There were a few scandalized gasps from civilians passing by, and they hurried away, as if expecting him to lash out and attack Dorothea. If Dorothea saw the distress on his face, she didn't comment, instead, she took to petting Juniper Axe, and cooing at the horse. 

Perhaps he was overthinking things.

Byleth followed after Caspar, so Dimitri found it fit to join him. They had their own wyvern stables alongside their equine ones. Dimitri was glad Byleth would have somewhere to allow Dagur to rest.

When the mounts were all stabled up, fed, and comfortable, Dorothea led them to the inn. It was just beside the opera house as she had said, what did neglected to mention, however, was how massive the place was for just a simple inn. The building was square, with the center of it open for a garden, behind the building were walled off areas for the bathhouses. 

Like everything in Enbarr, there was a certain elegant flare to it. Dimitri hoped the people would be able to reclaim the pride they so clearly once had for themselves.

Dimitri let the soldiers and his friends take over the bathhouse first. He wanted time to gather his thoughts and plot the next course of action. He’d need to gather the people and do a speech, that much he expected, but words were just that, words.

He needed to show through actions that he would be the best king he could be for them, he would work tirelessly so they may heal from the scars of the war. So they could be free from the shackles of a city in ruin.

However, earning trust of one, much less many people, was not easy. He buried his head in his hands, what could he do? How could he prove to them he had changed? That he would not needlessly slaughter them? That he cared for them as much as he did any of his other people.

Perhaps he could consult Byleth, the man had an unusual way with people. Even those initially cold to him, much like Dimitri had been when they first met. The man somehow managed to find a way into their hearts. To become precious to so many, a man people would fight for tirelessly.

He commanded loyalty unlike he had ever seen, yet for the life of him, he couldn't figure out how. For someone who came off as so awkward and cold at times, how could he manage to become so adored?

Perhaps commanding was not the right word, as he never asked for their trust and faith, yet in never expecting it, it was given to him freely.

What won Dimitri over?

He pulled his head from his hands and pondered the question. What was it that made Dimitri realize he could trust him, that the man was worth the world and more? 

When Dimitri first met Byleth he… Well, he disliked him greatly. He found the man despicable, someone that could kill without any remorse or second thought. He cared not for his students, only there from some sort of obligation. He never showed emotions, numb to all that was around him. 

At the time, Dimitri wondered if the man would care if any of them died under his command. He wondered if he would grieve, or just continue on as if nothing happened. As if a life had not been lost.

Yet… As they went through the year, Dimitri slowly began to realize he was wrong, so very wrong. The man did not express his affections in words, nor facial expressions, but in actions.

Byleth had stayed up late into the night, with some baked goods helping Annette tackle a subject she struggled with. He sparred with Felix when the young man grew too angry to function, and patched him up quietly after. 

He gardened with Dedue, despite the man’s warnings to stay away. Byleth helped him cook, and took interest in things important to the Duscur man, something a precious few ever did. 

He was a shoulder to cry on when Ashe lost his adoptive father. They sat alone in the cathedral as the moon reached its peak, upon one of the pews as Ashe mourned the loss of someone so important to him.

It wasn't even just ‘his’ house either, Byleth reached out to all that were suffering and became someone of comfort and support. 

He encouraged Ignatz to pursue painting, he helped Raphael when money became tight for he and his sister, he was patient with Bernadetta’s fears, he never spoke ill of Dorothea.

Every action he did was comparatively small, little gestures here and there that were in truth rather trivial, yet meant so much to those around him. Even larger displays of care, such as staying with Dimitri, even after all he had said to the man, how he said he’d use him until the flesh fell off his bones… To sparing the Death Knight at Mercedes' plea, despite knowing it could put himself in grave danger.

The Death Knight did not return after that, Dimitri wondered if he too, had been swept under the man’s charm.

Actions spoke louder than words, Dimitri realized. The day he saw Byleth smile for the first time, was the day he had truly fallen in love.

He needed to actually help the people, he needed to not only be present in construction efforts, but he needed to be among the people, getting his hands covered in dust and rope burns as they were. It would not make up for his past sins, but it would be a start.

A knock on his door pulled Dimitri from the bed he sat on, and he pulled open the door, expecting to see Dedue, or another general.

Instead, Byleth stood there. 

Dimitri couldn't help the wave of fondness that washed over him at the sight of the man, he stood there silently, expression neutral. Yet, Dimitri knew Byleth felt as much, if not more, than the rest of them.

“What can I do for you, Beloved?”

Byleth ducked his head, perhaps his tone had been a bit overly affectionate, “The bathhouse is empty.”

“Ah, thank you for telling me.”

Byleth nodded and stepped away from the door, a silent invitation. Dimitri swallowed his nerves, and followed him down the stairs, halls, and eventually out into the bathhouse.

Steam billowed from the warm water, the scent of lavender, pine, and some other herb he could not discern filled the air. Just walking into the arched room brought comfort. As Byleth said, it was empty, though there were areas where the stone leading to the pool in the middle of the open room was still wet. As though people had only recently left.

The rustle of fabric grabbed Dimitri’s attention, Byleth was removing his armor and clothing. He quickly turned away to give him the privacy, only looking back when he heard the water being disturbed. 

The water came up to just under Byleth’s rib cage, it was opaque with oils, giving the water a murky blue color to it. 

Dimitri hesitated again, embarrassed by how he must look beneath his clothes and armor. He had filled out some, since the war ended, no longer skin and bones as he had been. Yet he couldn't say he was at a healthy weight yet, his ribs still too prominent for someone of his size. He imagined it looked rather morbid.

Not to mention his scars. 

Byleth was not without his own, the man had more than Dimitri could count, yet, the scars were different on Byleth. He knew the origins of some, they were the result of putting himself before others. Shielding Mercedes from a lance, shoving Dimitri from what would have been a lethal blow from an axe.

His scars were from protecting others, Dimitri’s were not. The only ones he could say didn't bother him were the ones on his back, the result of swords coming down to slay an innocent boy in the face of blind rage at the loss of a king. Dimitri would never be ashamed of protecting Dedue as he did.

Others, where wounds had gotten infected and gnarled into something large and disgusting, covered much of his body. He had not cared to look after his wounds back then, hell, his eye was removed by none other than himself.

Dimitri was ashamed that he had carved his own eye from his skull, a shard of glass in hand. He had hoped if he were to rip his eyes out, he could stop seeing the ghosts that haunted him. Dimitri only managed to get the one before he fell unconscious, from either the indescribable pain, or blood loss, Dimitri could not remember.

“Dimitri.”

Byleth’s voice pulled him from the darkness of his mind, and he looked to to see the man standing near the edge of the bath, the water was more shallow, only just covering past his hip bones.

“Sorry, I… Sorry.”

Byleth left the water, and Dimitri turned his gaze elsewhere, so as not to make him uncomfortable.

“Is this too much?” Byleth asked, his voice quiet, “If you desire, you can leave your clothes on. I’ll help you wash them.”

Dimitri wondered how Byleth could read him so easily, but shook his head. “No… I’ll undress, just- give me a moment.”

“Would it be easier if I left?”

“ No! No, do not leave me.”

Byleth grabbed Dimitri’s hand and brought it up to his face, Dimitri followed the movement from the corner of his eye, wary of what the man would do. 

“Never,” He simply pressed a gentle kiss over the pulse on his wrist, “But I can step out if that would make this easier for you, then return when you are already in?”

Dimitri considered it, then shook his head, “No, you can return to the water, just… Could you not watch?”

Byleth nodded, and did as asked. When he returned to the warm bath, Byleth had his back to him. There were scars there as well, Dimitri noticed as he took off his own armor and clothes with care.

The water was a bit hot, Dimitri wondered if perhaps living in such a snowy climate made him more sensitive to heat. Still, it was far from unbearable, and Dimitri eased himself in. Once the water came to his hips, Dimitri relaxed a bit. He still looked grotesque, but with Byleth facing away from him, he could give himself a chance to brace for the expected reaction.

“Alright.”

Byleth turned, and… Did not react. Instead, he waded up so he stood before him, and smiled, “I guess you are used to ‘warm’ by Faerghus standards.”

Dimitri couldn't help but chuckle, tension left his body, and the arms he had used to try and cover himself slowly were released to hang at his sides in the water. Byleth thumped his head against Dimitri’s chest, and emotion welled up within him, a lump formed in his throat. 

He placed his hands on Byleth’s hips, hoping the trembling in them would not be noticed, and hung his head to rest utop the mess of green. 

“Dorothea was right,” Byleth mumbled against his skin, his breath was warm even inside the bath, “You do stink.”

“You don't exactly smell clean yourself,” Dimitri huffed, though a smile tugged on his lips, he pulled back just enough to see Byleth staring up at him.

Warm hands rested just under his ribs, Dimitri wanted to curl away and cover himself from Byleth. He wanted to shield his disgusting grotesque body from Byleth’s gentle eyes, they were too kind. Far more than he deserved.

“Dimitri,” Byleth’s voice was so quiet he almost could not hear him.

“Yes?”

“In the letter you wrote to me, you said you loved me.”

Dimitri was unsure why Byleth brought that up now, “I do.”

Byleth nodded, “Good. I love you too, you know that, right?”

Dimitri had already heard the man say he loved him, so this was not exactly something new, yet in this setting, whispered between the small space between their scarred bodies… It felt different, far more tender and in a way, accepting. 

Dimitri wrapped his arms around Byleth fully and brought him into a hug, “I know, thank you, Byleth.”

“That means I love all of you,” Byleth reached around him and rested his hands between his shoulder blades, “Even the parts of you, that you do not.”

He couldn't explain why those simple words were his undoing. Dimitri buried his face in Byleth’s hair, and allowed himself to weep. They remained like that for a while, until the last of his tears were spent. He pulled away, a heavy weight lifted from his chest, he felt… Better.

Not perfect, he still hated how he appeared, yet… He felt safe in Byleth’s warm eyes. 

Dimitri cupped some water in his hands and let it wash over the top of Byleth’s head. The man stood still, he took it as permission to continue washing his hair of grease and debris. Byleth’s eyes closed into the touch, a soft hum escaped his lips. 

When his hair was clean, Dimitri washed his shoulders and neck, careful not to apply much force, lest he harm the man willing to be so vulnerable before him. His fingers traced along Byleth’s jawline, his thumb rested just beneath Byleth’s lips.

He couldn't help himself, and leaned down to press his own against them.

Byleth was pliant, and when Dimitri traced his tongue along the man’s lips, he allowed access without any hesitation. Dimitri pressed against his beloved, deepening the kiss. He wanted to drink every sound that left Byleth, even the soft grunt when his back hit the stone edge of the bath. 

Dimitri traced his hands upward to rest upon Byleth’s ribs, then down the small of his back, stopping just short of the curve from his rear. Byleth’s hands held Dimitri’s face to him, and pushed back just as much as Dimitri, their bodies flush against each other.

A heavy warmth settled in his gut before he finally pulled from Byleth. He stared down at the man, his lips were a bit red from their kiss, but he seemed quite happy regardless. Dimitri buried his face in Byleth’s neck, peppering chaste kisses up the skin, along his jaw, and then back to his lips, before he finally pulled back.

Byleth’s thumb stroked the curve of his cheek, and Dimitri leaned into the touch.

“Thank you, Byleth.” 

Byleth allowed his hand to slip from his face, and tilted his head at Dimitri’s statement,“For what?”

“For being who you are.”

Chapter Text

Dimitri’s fingers were wrinkled by the time he and Byleth left the bathhouse.

He did not bother with his armor, instead taking to carrying the metal back to his room, wearing the far more casual leather garb instead. Byleth assisted him by holding his chest plates and cloak. Or, well, wearing his cloak. 

Dimitri knew what he would craft Byleth once he earned Seteth’s approval proper. Though the real question would be what animal to slay? A bear was an obvious choice, perfectly showed his strength and the thick fur would keep Byleth warm. It was a bit cliche, he supposed. His father had slain a bear for his mother.

Yet, to bring Byleth the hide of anything less than such a powerful beast seemed insulting.

Perhaps a moose? Their fur was thick and they were rarely challenged by those seeking their future bethrode’s hand. They were only found in the northernmost region of his homeland, and were a mighty beast his people held great respect for. Maybe slaying one would earn the ire of Sothis.

Dimitri glanced at Byleth, though given the man was on his blind side, he had to turn his head to actually get a look at him.

Technically, he supposed he could just, quite literally, ask her. But he didn't want Byleth to know what he was planning, he wanted to surprise him with his gift. 

“You are thinking.”

Dimitri stumbled over his feet when Byleth spoke.

“Oh, yes! Sorry, was I staring?”

“Yes,” Byleth tilted his head, “Are you alright?”

“I am. Don't worry, I was not troubled by my thoughts, just… Merely thinking.”

Byleth narrowed his eyes at him briefly, his gaze roamed over his body, then he nodded once, and returned his sights forward. Dimitri did the same.

Dimitri should ask a second opinion, perhaps Dedue? No, the man would probably just ask him to inquire what Byleth himself would prefer. Seteth, maybe, once he earned his approval could give some thoughtful insight. He considered Sylvian for a moment, then decided against it, he’d prefer to avoid the letter situation happening again.

While late, it was still a bit early for sleep when they arrived back at Dimitri’s room for the eve. Byleth set the armor he was carrying down upon the mannequin stationed in the far corner of the room, and swung the cloak around it. 

Dimitri set his armor upon the humanoid shape as well, and dumped the excess on the floor. It needed cleaning anyway, but he did not have the energy for such now. Rather, he’d prefer to get something to eat before he retired for the night, but, he first needed to address Byleth’s apparent pain.

Byleth was in the doorframe when Dimitri spoke, “Byleth.”

The man froze, Dimitri had the sneaking suspicion the man knew what he was going to inquire. Without his coat in the way, it was easy to notice how tense his muscles were, prepared to dart at a moment’s notice.

“Byleth, please, we need to talk.”

Byleth shifted from foot to foot, then relented and returned into the room proper, the door closed softly behind him.

Dimitri sat on the edge of the bed, Byleth perched beside him.

“You have been in pain?”

Byleth grunted, “It has been some time since Flayn spoke of it, why bring it up now?”

“I was unsure what it could be from, if something concerning your condition, I did not wish for prying ears to overhear us.”

When the man remained silent on the matter, Dimitri grabbed his hand and interlaced their fingers, “You may reveal your past to me as you need to, however, please tell me of things in your present.”

Byleth nodded, “Very well.”

Dimitri was patient as Byleth fought to find the right words, despite the worry coiling in his gut. He did not imagine it was something that came easily to him, despite his uncanny ability to speak the kindest things. Byleth wasn't one who spoke much of himself, afterall.

“Growing pains.”

“ Growing pains?” Dimitri was thoroughly confused. The man was surely old enough to have finished growing, he was far from a child. 

“Yes. Maybe?” Byleth’s brow furrowed, “No. I am… incomplete. To be complete, Sothis and I must be as one. It is exhausting.”

“Explain.”

“My heart does not beat because of Sothis, like my mother before me. I am stronger than she had been, so Sothis is awake within me. I have to… Be stronger? So I can be alive too.”

Dimitri did not understand any of this, but he gave a gentle squeeze to his hand anyway, “Byleth, you are alive now.”

Byleth glanced at him from the corner of his eye, an unusual frown rested on his face, “My heart does not beat, I do not feel as others do, I am the vassal of the Goddess, nothing more.”

“You are so much more than that, Byleth. You are beloved by so many, your students, your friends, me, we all adore you. As you are. You say you cannot feel as others do, but I frankly, do not believe that.”

Byleth averted his gaze to the deep red carpet, “Words are meaningless in situations such as this.”

“You are wrong,” Dimitri jutted his chin out, a seed of anger blossomed in his chest, “What does Sothis say?”

Byleth flinched, and shrunk in on himself, “She… Agrees with you.”

“There you have it, are you truly going to deny the word of the Goddess herself?”

“If I do, Sothis will give me a headache that’ll last lifetimes.”

Dimitri chuckled, and gave himself a moment to let his anger dissipate. He was frustrated with Byleth, but being angry with him would not help, he knew that much. Instead, he rubbed his thumb along Byleth’s scarred knuckles, “Byleth, I love all of you.”

The man side-eyed him.

“Even parts of you, you do not like.”

Byleth deflated and squeezed his hand back, “Ok.”

Dimitri could tell Byleth was done with the conversation. While it was by no means over, he knew such topics were overwhelming sometimes, and needed reprieves between them. So, he placed a gentle kiss on his fingers, and stood.

“Come, let us get food before we retire for the night.”

Byleth nodded, and trotted after him, their hands still woven together.

Helping people was easy, in theory. Find someone that could use an extra set of hands, and assist them on whatever their task was. 

However, in practice, not as easy.

Dorothea sat on a marble bench just outside the opera house, Dimitri had retreated to sit beside her. He was getting frustrated.

“I still can't believe you tried to carry an old lady across the road,” She laughed, and set her crimson fan beside her. 

“She had a lame foot, I figured it’d be easier than her walking wherever she needed to go.”

Dorothea chuckled and shook her head, “Your Majesty, you're adorable. Who put this idea into your head anyway? Was it Caspar? Sounds like something Caspar would do.”

“No… I was thinking,” Dimitri rested his forearms on his knees, “About when we first met Byleth. He unnerved a lot of folk, myself included.”

A hum urged him to continue speaking.

“I thought… What was it that he did to earn our trust? He did things for us, so I could do the same, but with the people of Enbarr.”

“Oh Dimitri…” Dorothea rubbed his shoulder, “There are people who will never like you, but do not let that define how you see yourself as a King. Actions speak louder than words, yes, but in the right times. Prove to them that you’ll be better by helping us rebuild, not by slinging the elderly over your shoulder and jogging them through the market.”

“How?”

“Reconstruction is happening on a building not too far from here, you could probably be a great help if you contribute your strength to the project.”

“You do not think they will chase me off?”

“They may disapprove of you helping, but you're still the King, they aren't going to chase you off. Use that to your advantage, someone who stands with their people is a far better leader than one who watches from their castle.”

“I see. Would you take me there?”

“What, now? ”

“Yes, time is of the essence.”

“You will not win people’s hearts in a matter of days, you know.”

“Of course, but any start I can get will take me that much closer to my goal.”

Dorothea grabbed her fan and stepped into the afternoon sun, “Alright, alright. I’ll take you over, I am not getting this dress dirty though, Petra gave it to me.”

“It is very lovely, the beadwork is quite detailed.” Dimitri trotted beside her.

“Isn't it? Petra did it herself, y’know. She also writes the sweetest letters, maybe our dear professor could learn a thing or two from her.”

Dimitri chuckled, she was probably right. Still, he liked to think he understood how Byleth expressed his affections better now. No need for letters between them, not anymore.

After a moment to think her words over, Dimitri slowed his gait to match the lazy stride of the woman beside him, “How did you find out about the letters?”

“Same way everyone else did, you honestly think all of our noses would not be in your two’s business? After all you went through, it's about damn time you’ve found some peace. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn't propose to him the day you ended the war.”

Dimiri recalled them returning to the monastery, they stood in the Goddess tower, exhausted, but relieved. The ring in his pocket was such a heavy weight, yet he was too much of a coward to present it then. Plus, proposing after taking a life seemed… Crass.

There was so much that needed to be done, Dimitri worried that a wedding would muddle affairs for them both anyway. He did not regret waiting.

“I suppose,” He agreed, “I did consider it, though.”

“Not surprised, good to know my bet wasn't completely off.”

“... Just how many of you took bets on Byleth and I?”

Dorothea laughed, “A lady never gambles and tells, Your Majesty.”

“So all of you, then.”

“Of course,” Dorothea covered a giggle with her fan, “Ah, look who it is.”

Further down the stone street was none other than his beloved. He spoke to a merchant, and paid for some sort of book. Byleth nodded to the one inside the tent, and tucked the item into a leather satchel he had slung around his shoulder.

“Professor!”

Byleth turned to them, Dimitri was a bit surprised he could hear. Dorothea was loud, but certainly not as loud as he would have expected to be for one to hear from such a distance. 

Well, he once was a mercenary, perhaps keen ears were a necessity then, not a luxury.

It took a few minutes for Byleth to reach them, he nodded at Dorothea, and headbutted Dimitri’s arm.

“Where are you off to?” Dorothea closed her fan to speak to him.

“Lindhardt asked me to get him a book, he is studying something.”

“So… He made you his errand boy?” Dorothea shook her head, “That’s usually Caspar’s job.”

“Caspar is helping with construction somewhere, I think. Lindhardt told me he was offered a teaching position here?”

Dorothea clapped her hands, “Oh yes! He was, I really hope he takes it up, he is quite skilled with white magic. Plus, I know he puts his all into things he is passionate about, I think he’d make a great teacher.”

Dimitri couldn't help but agree. Sure, the man often came off as lazy, yet he’s seen the way Lindardt’s eyes lit up when passionate about something, he was rather patient too. Did not tolerate stupidity though, Dimitri recalled when Lindhardt snapped at him quite some time ago for being foolish in battle.

Caspar usually bore the brunt of Lindhardt’s worry though. He wondered if they were a couple. It had been quite a long time since he had seen them. Perhaps he could inquire later, he had more important tasks at hand than idle gossip.

They bid Byleth adiew, and continued to the construction. As luck would have it, Caspar happened to be working on the same building Dorothea spoke of. 

He and the other five men here were covered in sweat, Caspar had his cotton shirt tied around his waist, his skin and red and blotchy, perhaps the beginning of a sunburn. He perked up once he noticed the two of them walking toward them.

“Hey guys! What’s up?”

“I came to assist in your construction.”

One of the other men mumbled something to Caspar, who frowned and shoved him, “Hey fuck off.”

Maybe this had not been a good idea.

Caspar rolled his arm, and nodded to a wood wagon, “We need s’more bricks. Come on, you’re stupid strong, you can pull the wagon so we can get more bricks here!”

“I can do that.”

“Hell yeah, come on!” 

Like that, he was swept under Capsar’s sweaty arm, and led away from Dorothea. 

He could faintly hear her laugh and shout something as the far shorter man dragged him off to get the bricks. This was, he supposed, what he had wanted.

Caspar and another resident loaded the wagon up with clay bricks, high enough that it almost reached Dimitri’s head. Impressive.

While unconcerned with whether or not he could pull such a weight, he knew he was capable, he was more worried about the wagon itself. Was it built to withstand such? Caspar seemed confident, so Dimitri trusted his judgement.

Until when Dimitri actually pulled the wagon and yanked the handle off completely.

Shortly before the front axle bent and broke under the weight, sending the pile of bricks to the ground.

“Huh. Well, that didn't work.”

So Dimitri carried back stacks at a time by hand, the workers seemed thankful, if not a bit unsure of how to react to him. Dimitri would take unsure over being frightened any day. 

He was able to lift a beam that would have required three of them to hold in place, and allowed them to attach it securely to the rafters in record time. With each thing he lifted or moved, the more at ease the others seemed to get.

One of them even joked with him, called him Patches. Another was absolutely infuriated by him saying such a thing, but Dimitri was quick to assure he didn't mind, nicknames were nice.

So he became King Patches.

Rebuilding took a lot of work, but he was rewarded with some cool ale after they finished what they could for the night. He was introduced to other men and women in the construction crew, some kept their distance, others warmed up to him when Parcel (the one who had dubbed him King Patches to begin with) called him such.

They found it funny, and that, somehow, made him less frightening to them.

It was nice, he felt like a person among them, not a King.

Dimitri fell face-first into his bed when he finally returned to his room.

Dimitri was no stranger to hard labor, he would build dozens of houses over paperwork any day, yet he had been idle for so long, he worked muscles that normally were unused. He was stiff and frankly, a bit sore.

Byleth slipped into the room, something sloshed as he did. 

He rolled onto his side to glance at the man, holding a bucket of water and rags. Dimitri sat up, confused, “What is that for?”

“You.”

Dimitri’s gaze darted between the water and Byleth’s stoic face. 

“Why?”

Byleth set the water down and motioned for him to stand, “We are going to the baths.”

Dimitri really, really didn't want to. But a soak would probably be good for his muscles. That did not explain the basin of water, though.

“Then why bring that here?”

“It still needs to cool, Manuela showed me how to make it. It’s for relaxing muscles.”

“Water?”

“No, like…” Byleth’s eyes narrowed in what Dimitri figured to be thought, “Tea, but for your body.”

Byleth set some sort of vial beside the cooling water, “She said to apply it after we return from the baths, and let it dry. It’ll help relieve the aches.”

Dimitri hadn't seen Byleth since the early afternoon when he had been running an errand for Lindardt. He wondered how he figured out he’d be aching. Even if he did know of him working with the others, how could he possibly know he’d be sore?

“You have not been on the battlefield in some time, of course you’d hurt,” Byleth drawled, and jerked his head to the door.

“Ah, did I speak aloud?”

“No, but you have always let your emotions rest on your face, it makes it easier to discern what you are thinking.”

Dimitri allowed himself to be guided to the bathhouse in silence. 

When they arrived, it was empty, just as it had been the night before. He wondered if it always emptied out at night, with the stars above them, it seemed as though it would be an amazing place to relax when night fell. Perhaps it was a cultural thing. Byleth was already in the water by the time Dimitri had taken off his shirt.

It still felt wrong to slide into the water with Byleth. To accompany the man in such an intimate way, he hardly deserved it. 

With his back turned, a speck of white just below Byleth’s hair caught Dimitri’s eye. He finished undressing and eased into the hot water. He approached the man from behind and gently brushed the pale locks from his neck, he couldn't quite discern what it was.

It was shiny, peralesant, when he brushed his fingers over it, he found the white fleck hot, much like the water. Byleth jerked away from him as he did, and covered his neck with his hands. 

Dimitri panicked, “I am so sorry, I shouldn't have touched you without your permission. Please, forgive me I-”

“Dimitri.”

“Y-yes?”

“You startled me, I am not insulted.”

Dimitri let out a sigh of relief, though kept the distance between them. He still should have asked before just touching him as he did, it was rude and boorish.

Byleth rubbed the back of his neck, brows furrowed, “What did you touch?”

“Oh, there is some white spot on your neck.”

That only seemed to trouble the man further, when he started clawing at his neck Dimitri closed the distance between them and grabbed his hand, “Beloved, please do not mutilate yourself.”

Byleth blinked, as if he were unaware of doing such a thing to himself, then nodded. His muscles relaxed, and his head fell against Dimitri’s chest. When sure he would no longer attack himself as he was, Dimitri let go of his hand and rested his own on Byleth’s sides. They stood like that for some time, basking in each others warmth. 

Byleth was the first to pull back, and Dimitri released his hold on the man easily. He grabbed Dimitri’s wrist, and led him to the edge of the baths, where marble benches had been installed along the stone edges, for people to sit and soak within the steaming water.

Dimitri sat and leaned back against the comparatively cool stone, the water brushed his chest when he sat, and Byleth’s collarbones. 

“We are going to the palace tomorrow.”

“We what? ”

“You heard me.”

Dimitri’s heart started to pound, his mind fuzzy, panic laced his mind, “Byleth, I cannot… I am not able to return to that place. It is… It is stained with the blood I spilled.”

“Dimitri, the battle that happened there was of Edelgard’s own volition. You did what you could to avoid it.”

“Yes, but if I had been better, or more convincing… Maybe if I had been more willing to hear her words she might- She may still live.”

Byleth closed his eyes, “She was set in her decision. No amount of reaching out would have stopped her on her path. Even in the end, you tried to spare her, and she refused your hand.”

Dimitri’s gaze focused on the water, brows furrowed. 

He knew logically Byleth spoke the truth. He still had not retained full feeling in his hand after that damn knife lodged itself in his shoulder. It ached when the weather grew too cold. 

Yet, such words did not curb his guilt. He had killed his own kin. Sure, kin by marriage, but kin nonetheless. He had wanted nothing more than to rebuild Fodlan with his sister, to create a world they both would have cherished, yet… It was not to be.

The palace served as a reminder of his failures. Each time he stepped outside, he could see it in the distance, mocking his ineptitude. A reminder of the blood that would forever stain his hands.

“... Why do you wish to go there?”

“I have little desire to go there,” Byleth drawled, “However, I know you need to.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. The building has been abandoned, none have entered since the war ended. It will soon fall to ruin if not properly tended after. I know you do not care for the building, but would letting such a place crumble beneath time make you content?”

Dimitri shook his head.

“So, we will go there. I am sure you can think of something to do with the place, afterall, it is technically yours now.”

“I do not want it.”

“Then do not keep it.”

Dimitri considered his words. He wanted nothing to do with the palace, yet if the place were to fall to ruin, he would never forgive himself for that either. Another sin to add to his seemingly ever growing pile.

But… If he could find a use for the palace, turn it into something beautiful, despite it’s bloody past. He would quite like that.

Still, he really did not want to step foot into those cursed halls.

As with nearly everything though, Byleth was right. Perhaps he did need to pay it a visit.

“Very well.”

The man beside him nodded, and that was that. 

When they eventually returned to the room, Byleth rubbed the odd water and oil mixture over his body. It was cold yet hot at the same time, but eased the pain he felt. He was grateful.

It truly was a beautiful building.

There had been so much care crafted into each pillar, every single step, it would be unforgivable to let such an incredible place fall to ruin. Still, standing upon the top step of the entrance, Dimitri found his legs laced with iron, and he could not move.

Byleth took post beside him, and bumped their arms together. 

Dimitri swallowed his fear, but could not bring himself to move. Walking was such a simple thing, yet now, it felt as though an unsolvable puzzle laid before him. He… Was scared.

They stood in silence for some time, before Dimitri finally managed to force himself further, each step heavier than the last. His only comfort was Byleth’s quiet support at his side, never pushing, yet never letting him retreat.

Inside smelled of dust. The carpets were dull, yet despite it’s clear abandonment, as the light danced between the pillars on either side of them, the interior glowed. There was a garden to his right, if he remembered correctly. Suddenly needing the air, he took a sharp turn, and followed the woven carpet to stone steps descending to a fountain and a once beautiful garden.

In its state of disarray, the fountain was overrun with moss. The once clear water now had a green algae tint to it. The plants were overgrown and riddled with weeds, creeping from their once perfectly defined places to the cobblestone pathway, some even climbing up the fountain itself.

Yet there was still beauty in it’s feral state. Untamed by people, returning to what it once had been, perhaps. Would it be disrespectful to try and tidy up, while he was here? 

The sun was unforgiving, and he sought the cool reprieve of shade. Byleth and he stood beneath a towering tree a few paces from the garden. Gentle taps on his arm alerted him to a slice of bread offered, Dimitri didn't realize how hungry he had grown.

He accepted the food gratefully and ate it while he thought. 

What good could come of this place? With some proper attention, he had no doubt the gardens could flourish as they once had been. Yet, what would the rest of the building be used for then? Perhaps there were plants that would thrive indoors? Maybe the palace could become a massive greenhouse, much like the one back at Garreg Mach.

No, that would require reconstruction, Dimitri did not wish to deface the palace any further.

“Beloved, what would you use this place for, if it were yours?”

The man was silent for some time, though a glance in his direction assured Dimitri that he had heard him, but was thinking over the question. Giving it the proper consideration and care Dimitri would have expected of him.

“A school, like the officers academy.”

“A… School?”

“Yes.”

Dimitri considered the options. He wondered if he could truly make a school worth attending. Yet… His memories of his time as a student at the Monastery were some of his fondest. A school, he… Liked that.

Perhaps… A school for anyone, any class noble or commoner, where if they wished, they could attend. Where the divide between high and low classes was nonexistent. Their dorms would not be separated, but intermingled. Perhaps one that would train their students for peace, and not battle as the officer’s did. 

Yes. A school for everyone.

He liked that quite a bit.

He would not touch the building without proper permission of the people but… Dimitri liked the idea. Turn a place of bloodshed into a place of knowledge. Allow others to learn at their own pace, an open library for anyone wishing to better themselves.

“Thank you, Byleth. I am fond of that idea.”

They remained in the shade for some time, until Dimitri felt ready to brave the building once more. Byleth at his side, silent, but supportive. What would he have done without him?

Dimitri refused to entertain the thought.

Instead, they strode from the garden into a large echoing room, stacked to the ceiling with books. There were ladders tucked away neatly in the far corner of the room, near where a wall of scrolls resided. There was a window on the second floor of the room, allowing natural sunlight to bask the otherwise lonely place in a warm glow.

Dimitri did not recall being in this room during the battle. Though he supposed it was better that way, a fight would have destroyed what books and scrolls were stored here, if time had not already. There was a click of metal, and Dimitri’s head snapped to Byleth, where he was scaling one of the decrepit ladders to reach the second floor.

He wasn't sure if he’d trust the ladder to bear his weight, so instead, he took to exploring the bottom half of the room. He pulled out a book and brushed stray dust from it. Some of the edges of the paper had been worn away, yet otherwise, it was in great shape. Dimitri hoped they’d be able to salvage what laid here. 

The book he held was a fairytale, a story of a man that gave too much, and became a monster. Dimitri remembered this tale, vaguely, his step-mother told it to him once. A man with the ability to cure all illnesses, but at the cost of taking the sickness himself. As more and more people used him for their own needs, the man was warped and twisted into something unrecognizable.

He killed all those he had helped, in the end.

Dimitri closed the book, and pondered the irony. He wondered if his step-mother felt a kinship with the character, he supposed it had been foolish to think she had truly loved him or his father. Had their union been one of political gain? Dimitri could not remember, he was too young.

Yet… He could remember how his father looked at the woman, Dimitri could have sworn he loved her. But perhaps that was an act, put on in the face of his son to spare him the heartache. Why couldn't Edelgard live with them? 

There were so many questions he had, yet few alive to answer them. Perhaps Gilbert would know of the truth, though he had seemed fond of his step-mother as well. Maybe he did not know the truth of the matter, maybe no one still breathing did.

He returned the book to its place and browsed the others. It seemed as if more books were in this room than the Monastery's own library. He wondered what sorts of tales or secrets they could hold within them. 

The second floor had been far too quiet, and Dimitri grew a bit worried for Byleth. He chanced the ladder and carefully climbed to the second floor. Byleth was perched on a desk just before the window, a large heavy book open upon his lap. 

There was a patch on the desk roughly the size of it, suspiciously dust free. Had the book been in the middle of being read when the battle took place?

Dimitri approached him and leaned against the desk at his side, “What is in the book?”

Byleth adjusted the book to allow Dimitri to look over it as well.

It was a journal, a scientific one… On dragons. The only true dragon he had ever seen was when Edelgard stormed Garreg Mach on the day he lost his beloved for five long years. Yet according to this book, there were many other kinds.

The most peculiar thing was the language, he had never seen such before in his life. The book must have been very, very old. Perhaps there was once a time when dragons lived among humans, though if it ever were the case, it must have happened centuries ago, as no lasting trace of them remains. 

Byleth turned the page, likely scanning over the pictures there. They were thorough, detailing all manner of little tidbits about the dragons. For one to have complied such an intricate knowledge, they had to have been some sort of expert. Perhaps they had hunted the beasts, or perhaps they were sentient, and willingly lendt their knowledge.

The next page donned a massive white dragon on it. Much of the paper had faded immensely, so it was hard to make out details, but the creature seemed to have four massive wings, and stood nearly as tall as a mountain. Dimitri couldn't help but be relieved such a frightening beast no longer walked this earth, if it ever did.

Byleth closed the book, “I’m taking this.”

Dimitri chuckled, he wondered what his beloved’s fascination with it was. Still, he saw no harm, so he gave his permission with a quick kiss to the top of his head. Byleth stuffed the book into the leather bag he had been carrying around recently.

They returned to the ground floor, and exited the library, it led them to an open room, the carpet continued. Dimitri recognized this as the audience chamber. Just beyond it lied the throne room. Elelgard’s final resting place.

He wasn't ready to go there yet, instead, he took to roaming the empty room. There was some broken furniture scattered about the place, some still dyed with blood. The sight made him sick, even if the stench had long since faded.

He remembered Dedue broke his arm here, when an axeman came at Dimitri’s blind side, and he shielded the blow. He recovered, but Dimitri could still taste the terror on his tongue when he heard Dedue’s pained cry.  Further near the proper entrance of the room, he remembered Caspar shouting something to one of the soldiers he clashed with.

He could not recall the words, but he remembered the man sobbed when he finished them off. Had he known the one he clashed weapons with? Dimitri imagined it was like that with the other Eagles that accompanied them on that horrid day. 

Byleth had made it clear, he remembered, that they did not have to partake in this battle, yet… They refused to stand down. He had been so honored and proud of them at the time, the loyalty the showed to both him and his professor was inspiring.

Now… He felt sad for them. He understood why Byleth had been so adamant on them staying at their base camp then.

There were no bodies left on the floor. Dimitri was glad, he hoped their family and loved ones were able to collect them and give them the proper funerals they deserved. He wondered if Edelgard got a funeral. 

He hoped she did.

He continued to wander aimlessly within the room, he killed a mage there, decapitated a soldier there. It was dizzying, he could recall with such clarity where he had killed each of Edelgard’s soldiers. How they screamed on their deathbed, the rage he felt when he retreated from the advance to save his companions from a monster that had cornered them.

He ran a hand through his hair, he was nauseous.

A weight against his arm brought him back to solid ground, Byleth leaned against him, his head rested upon his bicep. Dimitri brought his arm around his beloved’s shoulders, and allowed himself to take a moment of reprieve by resting his cheek on Byleth’s soft hair. He still smelled of pine.

“Byleth… I… I did so many terrible things here.”

“Such is war.”

Dimitri frowned, he knew Byleth wasn't numb to the pain they had caused, he knew Byleth would have rather spared each life himself. Sometimes though, he wondered if Byleth wished her were, as Dimitri often did.

“Forgive me for perhaps coming off as rude, but… Have you ever considered going back? All the way back, before the war happened, and trying to stop it?”

“Of course,” Byleth grunted, “However, I cannot do that, as much as I had wished it many times. Such is far beyond my reach of power. Going back two weeks could have very well been fatal, had I not already been surrounded by healers.”

Dimitri pulled back enough to catch Byleth’s eyes, “You could have died?”

“Yes, but I knew I would not. Manuela is a fantastic healer, as is Flayn. It was unpleasant, of course, I’d prefer not to do it again, thank you.”

Dimitri oriented himself so Byleth stood in front of him, “Byleth, you cannot risk your life like that!”

“I can, and I shall when needed.”

“Byleth if you had died, I… I would be lost without you.”

The man shook his head, and brought Dimitri’s hand to his cheek, “You would grieve, but you would live. You have many who treasure you, there are things to live for, your Kingdom needs you, all of Foldan does.”

“Byleth please, do not speak so casually of your own life!”

Byleth intertwined their fingers, and fell silent. His gaze unfocused, seeing something Dimitri could never hope to see. He pulled the man close for a hug, and buried his face in the warm crook of his neck beside his coat.

“I am sorry for upsetting you.”

Dimitri shook his head, “Beloved, you must start valuing your life as I do, as others do. Please do not throw it away so senselessly.”

There was a heavy silence in the air. Byleth’s hand came around to return in the hug, he could feel the way his hands gripped at Dimitri’s leather vest. 

“Ok.”

“Thank you.”

They stood together for some time. When Dimitri’s knees began to ache, he pulled back. He stroked Byleth’s cheek and smiled at the man, after a moment, Byleth returned it. They kissed, and continued onward.

The entrance of the throne room was horrifying. There was far more rubble there than anywhere else they had seen so far. The result of Edelgard doing whatever she had done to turn herself into that monster. There was a stain just before the throne itself, Dimitri knew that to be where he had killed his sister.

Her body was no longer there, he was grateful. Dimitri did not think he would have been able to stomach the sight. He could only hope she had been given a proper funeral. Part of him wished he could have been there, but he knew such a thing would have been disastrous. 

Dimitri doubted he would have been able to make it through the burning rights without having to leave.

He climbed the stairs, and knelt before the stain of blood upon the carpet. 

Dimitri had prayed to the Goddess that Edelgard would see reason, that she would have taken his hand and they could have created a world worth living in. Yet… She didn't. 

Instead, she attacked him with the very dagger he had gifted to her when they were but children. Throwing away their connection with a simple act, making it clear that mercy would have never been an option.

His shoulder ached. 

Byleth sat beside him, and they remained there for what felt like ages. Dimitri wondered what the man was thinking, quietly staring off into the distance as he kept him company. Was he reminiscing about the horrors of war as well? Did he also wish things could have gone differently?

Dimitri hoped he did not blame himself for all that transpired.

He leaned against his shoulder, Byleth jerked from the action, but relaxed into it after a beat. Byleth’s head fell upon his shoulder, a solemn silence settled around them. 

“I wish she would have taken my hand.”

“As do I, Dimitri.”

He hoped the school this place would become could be a place where such battles would never need to happen again.

Tomorrow, he will speak to the people on the steps of Edelgard’s palace. The word spread like wildfire, and it seemed everyone spoke of it. He could not tell if such whispers were from joy, or apprehension. Regardless, he hoped that asking for their permission to build a school there would be welcomed.

Yet even in the face of speaking to so many people, the nerves he felt paled in comparison to the way Seteth stared at him over his cup of tea.

Dimitri may be impatient, but he also knew there were times and places for everything. As much as he wanted to ask for Seteth’s blessing every time he saw the man, he had been content to wait until his business in Enbarr had finished. Yet, here he was, in the middle of his room, sitting on a chair pulled from the dining hall a floor below them, Seteth sitting opposed to him in a similar fashion.

A kettle rested on the end table beside them.

He distinctly felt as if he were going to get scolded for something.

Seteth took a long sip from his drink, and rested the cup in his lap, “You look like a frightened child, Your Majesty, do calm down. It will do me no good to have you fainting of nerves.”

“Right, of course.”

The man let out a sigh, and stole another drink from his tea, “How much as Byleth told you of what he is?”

“Not a lot,” Dimitri murmured, “I know his heart does not beat, Sothis resides in him, and that he must be ‘stronger’ to become as one? Much of what he’s tried to explain has gone over my head.”

Seteth nodded, “I am not surprised, it is much to take in at once. I do not believe even Jeralt, knew all there was to know about Sitri when they wed.”

Dimitri recalled the name mentioned in his journal, Sitri was Byleth’s mother.

“Sitri was a frail woman, physically. She was strong in many other ways, yet, her connection to Sothis drained her body immensely.”

“What do you mean?”

Seteth chewed on the inside of his cheek, and leaned back against the chair, “She was like Byleth, both in how she expressed herself, but also in how her anatomy was. Her heart did not beat, because of Sothis’s heart within her.”

“Could… Could Sitri see Sothis as well?”

“No, I do not believe so. Not that I ever learned, at any rate. I believe just having her power within her was too much, she was not strong enough for her to both host Sothis, and have Sothis stir within her,” He pursed his lips, “While not impossible, neither I nor Rhea were ever told such, so in truth, there is no way to know.”

“I see.”

“Sothis is awake within Byleth though, correct?”

“Yes, he told me he used to see her until his hair changed color, now he could only hear her.”

“Makes sense.”

Dimitri laughed despite himself, “Does it? Does it really?”

Seteth considered it, then chuckled himself, “I imagine it would be hard for a human to grasp.”

What?

Wait, what?

Seteth drew a long gulp of tea, seemingly oblivious to Dimitri’s confusion.

After some time, Seteth seemed to take pity on Dimitri, and spoke again, “You are seeking my approval for your courtship, yes?”

“I am. However, I know that this may be an innapro-”

“Good. Then listen to what I am going to say. Byleth cherishes you, however, there are many things you still do not know, and that may affect how you view your relation to him.” 

Dimitri’s brow furrowed, “You could tell me he is the Goddess herself, but that would not sway me from his side.”

Seteth nodded, “Very well. I have already passed this conversation by Byleth, so do not fret about me disclosing things he would not wish for you to know. Tell me, how old do you believe Flayn is?”

That was… An unusual question.

“Roughly around my age, probably mid twenties.”

“Incorrect.”

“Younger? I knew my fear of her drinking was founded.”

Seteth coughed into his cup, “She was drinking? ”

“No, no, she had brewed tea for Byleth in a tankard. I had thought it was ale.”

“Oh, good,” Seteth relaxed, “Still, you are incorrect.”

“Older than I?”

“Yes.”

Dimitri rubbed his chin, well, he supposed it was not too surprising. Then she had to be in her thirties, right? She aged far better than other women he had seen, hell, she didnt age a day in five years.

As he mulled over the thoughts in his mind once more, he recalled how strange it was to see Flayn after five years, looking exactly the same. 

“Seteth?”

“Yes?”

“How old is Flayn?”

Seteth chuckled, “One thousand, two hundred and ten, no- Eleven.”

Dimitri dropped his cup, the tea was not hot enough to burn his legs, but it was definitely still uncomfortable. He scrambled to pick the porcelain cup up and placed it on the end table, this was a joke. 

This had to be some sort of joke.

Yet when he searched Seteth’s face for any signs of laughter, there were none. The man looked as serious as he did on the day Flayn had been kidnapped.

“H… How old are you? ”

“Far older.”

Dimitri took a couple minutes to process the information. None of this made any sense. No human could ever live that long. Yet, the way he spoke of ‘humans’... Were Seteth and Flayn not human?

Neither of them were beasts, he knew that much. They had helped both he and Byleth far too many timed to have ill intentions… And yet.

“Are you… human?”

“Of course not, neither is Byleth. Not truely.”

Alright, ok.

This was a lot, but it was important. 

“Now, this should go without saying, but do not breathe a word of what I am telling you to anyone else, no matter how much you trust them.”

“I would never.”

“Good,” Seteth set his empty cup beside Dimitri’s, “Now then, as I am sure you’ve figured out, our kind live a very long time.”

“Right.”

“Byleth will look the same as he does now, twenty, fifty, a hundred, two hundred years from now. When you grow old and grey, he will look the same. Are you prepared for the scandal of having such a ‘young’ lover will entail?”

“What do you mean?”

“Every fifty or so years, we must make ourselves anew, to avoid suspicion. ‘Byleth’ will have to die, and come back as another name. You will likely be in your fifties or sixties then, are you prepared to weather the talk that will circulate about the king taking advantage of such a young man?”

Ah. That would be… Hard. But he would, it did not matter if Byleth never grew old, so long as he remained with him, that was all Dimitri could ever ask.

“Byleth will far outlive you. He knows this, but you need to know that as well. Not just that, once he truly blossoms into his own, there will be long periods of time he must be away from you, perhaps years. He will not be able to stay as he is forever.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Dimitri stammered, what was he talking about?

“I’ll let Byleth explain that to you, however, you must know that in your short life, there may come a time, where Byleth will not be by your side. Such is the reality of things.”

“We would likely be split apart by our duties in such a way anyway, I already knew that.”

Seteth nodded, “Yes, but this will be different. You will likely not get any contact from him for a year, or more, at a time.”

It would be hard, painfully so, but it didn't matter. He loved Byleth, and he loved all that would come with him. If he could not see him for another five years, Dimitri would still love him, and welcome him with open arms when he did return.

“That is fine, I would weather any stretch of time if it meant he would one day return to me.”

That seemed to please Seteth, as he nodded once more.

“Your joke about Byleth being the Goddess was… Not entirely off. When he reaches his true potential, the line where he ends and Sothis begins will no longer exist. They would be one in the same.”

Dimitri furrowed his brows, “So… Byleth is a god?”

“To grossly oversimplify it, yes, he is.”

“I see.”

Seteth leaned into the back of his chair and ran his hand through his beard, he seemed… Tense, “So, there you have it. There is more, much, much more, however, this is what I found imperative for you to know moving forward in the courtship. Knowing all this, do you still wish to pursue Byleth?”

Did he? A stupid question.

“Of course, without a doubt. I meant what I said, I love Byleth as he is. Be it as a god or something else entirely, I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with him, no matter the troubles I may face. All would be worth it to have him by my side.”

Seteth relaxed and breathed a sigh, “Good, that was what I hoped you would say.”

“What do you mean?”

“Byleth had his apprehensions telling you some of this, he feared that him not being human would affect your love for him. I know blind love when I see it, I once had it for my wife, before she passed. I am glad to see I was correct; you have my blessing.”

Relief flooded Dimitri as well, he felt as if he had passed some sort of test. In a way, he supposed he did. Even if it took the rest of his life to learn all there was to know of his Beloved, he would eagerly spend every free minute by his side. 

No matter the form he took.

Chapter Text

“If you wouldn't… Ouch… Pull so hard I would greatly appreciate it.”

“When was the last time you brushed your hair? It has more knots than a fishing net!”

Dimitri flinched when the comb tore through another knot. Flayn was being far from gentle, he really regretted agreeing to let her do his hair.

“I brush it occasionally, I usually just leave it up though so no need- Ow! ”

“No need to brush it? Ugh, I am going to have to have a talk with your Beloved, such lack of care is unacceptable.”

Dimitri was suffering, and Seteth’s vaguely smug grin he could see from the corner of his eye was not helping. He wondered where Byleth was, probably off helping Lindhardt with something again. If he were here, surely he’d rescue him from such a fate. 

Actually, no. He probably would just laugh at him. A grown man, a King no less, nearly rendered to tears by a little girl brushing his hair. To his credit, the ‘little girl’ was over a thousand years old, and she had the arm strength to back it up.

Another knot was ripped out, and Dimitri flinched again.

This was a slow torture, he wouldn’t even have the chance to faint of nerves when he did make his speech, Flayn would do him in right here, right now. Dimitri would never agree to let her do his hair again.

“If I hear you have not been brushing your hair from Byleth, I will not be pleased Brother. ”

The comb in his hair stilled, even Seteth tensed from his perch in the corner of the office they had chosen to prepare him in. 

“Oh… Um- I apologize, it was-”

“You can call me brother if you’d like Flayn, I do not mind.”

A tense silence settled over the air. Was that the wrong thing to say? Should he have just ignored it? Maybe he should have ignored it, pretend he didn't hear anything. The comb resumed its path through his hair, and the tension dissipated.

“Very well, you shall be my cherished little brother,” Flayn hummed, and set the comb aside, “Since you will be betrothed to Byleth, you’ll be family soon anyway!”

If Seteth was Byleth’s Uncle, would that not make Flayn his aunt? Dimitri decided attempting to sort out his beloved’s unusual family tree was not worth the effort at the moment, and instead, basked in the concept of being part of a family. It had been so long since he had others to call his kin. 

There were tugs on the base of his scalp, Dimitri kept still as he could. Flayn hummed an unfamiliar tune as she worked, braiding his hair with practiced motions that spoke of years experience. Flayn did not keep her own hair braided, that he ever saw at least, he wondered where she learned.

When she finished, the braid was tied off with a blue ribbon, and rested between his shoulder blades. He supposed his hair did get longer. Perhaps he would cut it? Especially if Flayn made good on her promise of making sure he kept the hair brushed. When it was short he never had to bother.

Though he remembered Sylvain making fun of his ‘mop-head’ a few times. Perhaps no matter the length his hair would have to be brushed.

“There we go! Much better.”

Dimitri lifted a hand to feel her craftsmanship. It seemed to be an ordinary braid, he could no longer feel his hair brushing against his eyepatch either. She must have pulled all the hair back from his face. He wondered if he looked handsome.

It was never a thought he had given much care for, not even before the war. Even then, his mind had been burdened by the need for revenge, it did not matter how he appeared. Until Byleth began teaching there, he had never looked at anyone with anything other than a neutral gaze.

He had friends, kind of, but they were never anything more. He never saw them in a romantic light. Guilt gnawed at his mind as he recalled how numb he had often felt when he looked at those who cherished him as their friend.

Dimitri was still but a man even then, he certainly felt lust toward others from time to time, though it never went more than appreciating someone’s form. Never had he thought he wished to spend the rest of his life by their side. He had not deserved it then.

He wasn't sure if he deserved it now, after all he had done. And yet, Byleth chose him too. Dimitri wondered if it’d be selfish to take that gift so generously given to him and hold it dear. Byleth, the most incredible man he ever had the grace of knowing… Had chosen him.  

Dimitri, a simple human.

His brows furrowed, was he truly worth Byleth’s love?

Was he worth any of his friend’s love? After how he had used them? After how he had treated them, abused them? 

There was a gentle thwap on the back of his head, Dimitri startled from his thoughts.

“I know not what you were thinking, but I do not believe it was good.”

Dimitri chuckled, albeit a bit forced, “My apologies, I was lost in my mind for a moment there.”

Flayn patted his shoulders and urged him to stand, “It is quite alright, such things happen to us all! Now then, you have a speech to get to, yes? I am quite looking forward to it. You will do splendidly, without a doubt!”

“Thank you, Flayn. I appreciate that.”

She nodded excitedly, and pushed him from the room. Dimitri allowed her the satisfaction of ‘forcing’ him out the door, for someone so much older than he was, she oft acted far younger than she was. 

Dimitri appreciated her energy.

Gazing out upon the sea of faces before him, Dimitri felt a stir of nausea bubble in his gut. He longed to have Byleth’s calming presence by his side, though he knew it was likely for the best he spoke this alone. Byleth would not always be beside him, he needed to be able to do his due diligence as a king without having his Beloved as a crutch.

Among the people, there were those that looked upon him with disgust and disdain. He deserved such hatred, he could only hope his efforts would pay off and he could earn their approval.

Dorothea’s reminder rang in his head.

Even if he never earned their love, he could not and would not let it affect himself as a King.

“Hello, good people of Enbarr,” He started, drew in a breath, and steadied himself for the words that would come next.

“It has been a long time since I last stepped foot within your beautiful city. My heart breaks as I look around and see how you have suffered, how much more needs to be done. My only wish, as your King, is to help you restore this beautiful land to its former glory. The late Edelgard’s palace has been untouched for far too long, it belongs to all of you, far more than I could ever stake claim upon its walls. 

“Enbarr is rich with culture and knowledge, much has been lost in the war, but not all. I seek to turn those bloodied halls into a place of knowledge and guidance. I humbly ask your approval to turn the palace into a school for all, a place where any class can come and learn. Not of war, not of battle, but of peace, art, and magic.

“So long as I still breathe, I swear to you all, that I will do everything within my power to keep Fodlan safe, and to bring about an era of peace you have long since deserved. Perhaps it is presumptuous of me to ask for your forgiveness and trust, after all I had done. If it takes the rest of my life, I will strive to be the King your people deserve, as I cherish each and every one of you as I would any other person under my care.”

Murmurs erupted from the crowd, eventually growing into a cacophony of both cheers and shouts. Dimitri hoped they were speaking good things, the noise became white static in his mind. He couldn't understand what they were saying. 

Were they angry, happy?

Dimitri’s mind swam, and he was easily swept away from the stairs and center of attention into the reprieve of the palace itself. 

When the noise quieted, Dimitri became aware of the firm hand upon his lower back. His eye darted down to it’s owner, only to feel an enormous swell of relief when met with light hair and the scent of pine.

“Thank you.”

Byleth grunted, a small nod showed he had heard, but did not respond further until they were once again within the library. To his surprise, others were there as well. Lindardt, Dorothea, Manuela, Hanneman, Caspar, and even the men he had worked with merely two days ago when he assisted rebuilding a house.

“Is it too early to place an application to be a professor here? The library alone could keep me entertained for years,” Lindardt spoke first, voice free of the tired drawl it usually had.

Caspar elbowed him and snorted, “Hey man, at least wait until he gets to the table!”

Lindhardt pitched a whine, and stood on the other side of Dorothea, “See if I mend your broken fingers again.”

Parcel perked and slammed a roll of paper down onto a table that had been drawn into the center of the towering room, “We’ve got plans, King Patches.”

Byleth raised a brow, glanced up to Dimitri, back to the man, then released his hold on Dimitri and nudged him toward the table. It was in the absence of his hand that Dimitri realized how warm he had been, that… Didn't seem normal.

His mind was pulled from that to Caspar, as he spoke, “So! I got with the guys, and we drew up some ideas on how we could turn the palace into a proper school. It is already pretty damn equipped to host a ton of people comfortably, some repairs are a must, obviously. We could also do some renovating, to streamline everythin’ but Professor wanted us to run that by you first, since we were not sure how much you wanted to change.”

The paper was unfurled and held in place by shivs. 

Parcel spoke, “There is a servants quarters that could be repurposed into dorm rooms for kids coming here. There was also a place for nobles to sleep when visiting, figure that could be for professors that would live ‘round here during the school year? In terms of classrooms, we got a lot of rooms that could work? But they are… Not in the best shape”

Dimitri nodded, “Repairs will be needed regardless, but I would prefer to keep the core of the palace the same, however.”

Parcel pursed his lips and nodded, he drew black charcoal from equally black hair and made some notes, as well as crossed off some sketches on the paper.

“Oh this would be lovely, why, if I were not already committed to the officers academy I’d sign up to teach here in a heartbeat,” Manuela purred, and rested her cheek on her hand, “Come to think of it, the school hasn't started back up yet, has it, Byleth?”

Byleth’s voice seemed off when he spoke, but Dimitri couldn't place how, “No. We could move the academy here, with all that happened at Garreg Mach, I do not know how safe it would be for people to attend school again there.” 

“Perhaps the school could remain, but be more specialized?” Dimitri offered, “Be solely for those who seek to be knights, whilst the academy here could be for the pursuit of knowledge instead?”

The man considered it, then shrugged, “It will be some time before the academy is in proper state to host classes again anyway.”

Dimitri nodded, he would consider the option. Having Manuela and Hanneman’s expertise would undoubtedly be a massive asset to the school.

Parcel drew his attention back to the building layout with a few pats on the wood, “Ok, so how ‘bout something like this?”

Dimitri reluctantly left his beloved’s side to walk around the table and inspect the plans more carefully. It seemed the sketches that remained kept the building as close to how it already was as possible. 

He gestured to the throne room, where it would have become a lecture hall, “Leave Eledgard’s final resting place be, if possible. I… I do not wish to disturb her.”

The group turned to watch him, and Dimitri could feel a familiar buzz in his ears again under their gaze. It had been far too long since he had made speeches proper, perhaps he needed more practice. A pat to his shoulder snapped his out of it, Manuela did not speak, but kept her hand there regardless.

He cleared his throat, “I… Do not know what to do with the throne room yet, if possible, I’d like to keep it untouched for now. There will be many repairs going on the rest of the palace anyway, best to focus on those above that room for now.”

“Very well, Patches. I’ll make sure the rest of our folk know, once we finish that house we can get right to work here.”

“Please, prioritize any houses left unbuilt first, roofs over the people’s heads are far more important.”

Parcel nodded, rolled the paper back up, and trotted from the room. Only when he left did Manuela take her hand from his shoulder.

“Let us know if there is anything we can do to make the burden here a bit lighter on yourself, alright, Your Majesty?”

Dimitri was touched by Manuela’s soft words, “Thank you, I appreciate that, truely.”

She patted his arm, and with a wisp of white, left the room. One by one, the others followed after her. Until just he and Byleth remained in the massive chamber. 

After a moment’s pause, Dimitri crossed the distance between he and his beloved, and let his head thump upon Byleth’s shoulder. The man grunted at the weight, but made no complaints as thin fingers came up to pat his head. 

“You look nice.”

Dimitri chuckled, “Flayn did my hair.”

“I know, she was quite upset with how little you brush your hair.”

“Ah, she told you?”

“Mhm.”

Dimitri turned his head just enough to press a gentle kiss to the side of his neck, the skin felt warm and clammy. Different than it was normally, even within the baths. He pulled back to look over Byleth, the man seemed… Off kilter, somehow. 

His reaction time appeared slower than normal, given by the brief pause it took for Byleth to meet his gaze. His skin was far too warm, he looked drained. He brushed sweaty locks from his forehead, “Beloved, are you alright?”

“I am fine.”

Dimitri narrowed his eyes at him, “I do not know if I believe that.”

“It's fine, Dimitri.”

Now he definitely did not believe him.

He grabbed the man’s arm, and tugged him along from the library. Byleth puffed a sigh, but allowed himself to be pulled along. Though, in truth, Dimitri could have hefted the man over his shoulder and taken him to Seteth with or without his cooperation. 

Probably.

Maybe.

Dimitri was far too focused on dragging Byleth to health to realize the many odd stares aimed in his direction. He only took note when he heard Caspar’s familiar laugh, then proceeded to pick up the pace, his cheeks warm with embarrassment.

Seteth was reading a scroll when Dimitri shouldered open the door to the office he had taken up residence in. The building had not been fully repaired yet, but it functioned well enough as a post, that people would deliver letters there to be sent out by couriers the following morning.

He raised his eyes from the paper, peered at the two over his glasses, and sighed.

“Now what?”

Byleth did not respond, so Dimitri spoke for him, “I fear he is ill.”

Seteth turned his narrowed gaze to Byleth, who still did not speak, instead just frowned, stubborn as ever. The man sighed and pushed from the desk, pacing around it to approach Byleth. He sunk in on himself as Seteth stood before him.

Without warning, Seteth grabbed Byleth’s chin and lifted it, then turned his head to either side. He forced Byleth to open his mouth, hummed, then looked at his eyes carefully. 

Dimitri almost felt pity for his Beloved, the poor man looked as if he were ready to crawl out of his skin. For how often they touched each other, Dimitri had forgotten just how much Byleth disliked being grabbed when not of his own accord.

Seteth stepped away once he had his fill, “Byleth is fine, what he is experiencing is quite natural. However, we will need to leave for Garreg Mach, Enbarr is no place for this.”

Dimitri hoped running his thumb along Byleth’s fingers was comforting, and nodded to Seteth.

“Very well, is there anything I can do to assist either of you?”

“No need. Finish what you must here, it is high time we returned to the monastery anyway. We’ve been gone longer than I am truly comfortable with.”

Dimitri did not feel secure being from Byleth’s side, even at Seteth’s assurance. He wondered what was wrong, normal or not, something clearly was up. Not knowing worried him.

Was he being overbearing? He was probably being overbearing.

He let go of Byleth’s hand, “Very well, please let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

Dimitri hesitated, then turned and left the room. As he closed the door behind him, he overheard Seteth’s sigh, “I told you we should have returned days ago… You will be in for a rough ride back.”

“Dimitri needed me.”

“Yes, well, I’ll go collect Flayn, you get your things packed. We leave at once.”

He was swift to leave after that, his heart in his throat. Dimitri really needed to get the man to prioritize his own health, no matter how grateful he was that he stayed.

Dimitri wiped sweat from his brow, and leaned back against a partially built wall. 

Construction of homes went by faster when he helped, they managed to finish two already in the week he had remained at Enbarr. 

Many that had accompanied him returned to their respective places. Claude left the day after Byleth, guess there was some business in Almyra to sort out. Lorenz left as well, since Claude returned to his homeland, Lorenz had taken over as acting governor of the area the Alliance once held.

He was stressed beyond words, but had also mellowed out. Far less flirtatious than he remembered him being when they were in the academy. Perhaps he had calmed from his pursuit of women for awhile now, in truth, Dimitri had paid little attention to him when his mind only sought revenge.

Everyone changed, thinking back on it now.

Coming into their own, growing as people. Sylvain no longer chased ladies, instead he was a doting and faithful partner to Felix, who in turn changed as well. The man was laid back, less prone to violent snapping. He still yelled a lot, but much of his words lacked their usual heat. He was happy.

Ingrid grew, she was rebuilding her family’s fortune on her own, without marrying. Dimitri was proud of her, and if he often paid her generously for her constant running around for his sake, well, that was between him and his own gold.

Ashe was trying to start a restaurant on the side with his siblings, between being a guard for him alongside Dedue. He had seen the way his dear friend’s eyes softened when his gaze fell upon the aspiring cook, Dimitri wondered when Dedue would try to court Ashe himself. Afterall, if Dimitri had the courage to ask Byleth, surely Dedue could find some to speak with him.

Dimitri made a mental note to pester Dedue about it when they next had time alone together.

It was only fair to return the favor.

“Hey Patches, c’mere!” The voice of one of the fellow builders, Miana, he recalled, waved to get his attention.

He stood from his brief break, and trotted over to join her and Parcel, where they were struggling lifting a rafter into place with some rope. Dimitri grabbed the rope and pulled the long stretch of wood up, Miana scrambled up the ladder set near where the beam was to be nailed, and got to work leveling the wood and hammering it into place.

“Man, times like this make me wish I had one of those wyverns,” Parcel whined, and sneezed some sawdust from his face.

“Why is that?”

“You could just, y’know, fly up there and nail stuff together, no need for a ladder.”

Dimitri considered it, “I do not think they would have enough room for their wings in here.”

“Yeah, plus I’ve heard those things are cranky sons of bitches,” Miana snorted, then, “Hey keep her steady Patches.”

“Ah! Sorry, sorry.”

Parcel grabbed the rope as well, less to help keep it up, and more to steady the wooden beam, “I’ve never met a wyvern before, they look pretty mean.”

“My Beloved has a wyvern, Dagur. Once you earn her trust, she is quite friendly.”

“Oh yeah, and how do you do that?” Miana inquired, though the words were muffled around the nails she held between her teeth.

“Well, I rescued Dagur from some rubble years ago. When Byleth… Well, that doesn't matter. He was unable to care for her at the time, so I freed her, and occasionally left food out for her as she recovered.”

“Sounds like you treated her more like a stray dog than a trusted ally,” Parcel laughed.

Dimitri chuckled along as well, Parcel likely did not know how true he was.

After he had escaped his execution, he had fled to the monastery. He could not recall his exact thoughts at the time, but he knew they were of Byleth, and of revenge. Perhaps a part of him had hoped Byleth returned there. 

Imperial soldiers had taken over the place when he arrived, he slaughtered them all. 

When he had wandered around the halls like akin to a lost animal, he had come across a wyvern, wing trapped under rubble from the destruction by those that had taken Garreg Mach over. He remembered thinking it was pathetic, clearly underweight, the animal had likely been there for some time. 

The cowards that called themselves soldiers were probably too frightened to go near it.

Dimitri had intended to kill her, until he saw the silver broach that hung from one of her horns. It was woven around the protrusion with white ribbon and leather. Dimitri, even in his bloodthirsty addled mind, recognized it as the very broach he had gifted Byleth on the man’s birthday. 

He freed her from the rubble, tossed the meat he had planned to cook for himself that night near her, and left her alone. 

She hunted, healed, and occasionally, returned the favor.

They were nothing but feral beasts without their master to guide them. Even when he traveled to hunt down those his mind told him too, when he returned, Dagur was there. She watched over him at night, he knew. Kept the monastery free of vermin when he was away. 

He wondered how many of the rumors of the monster that lived within Garreg Mach were actually about her, and not himself, as others often believed.

“Patches, you alright there?” 

Dimitri nearly dropped his hold on the rope, and Parcel giggled, “You are super out of it. Worried about your Beloved? ”

It took Dimitri a moment to familiarize himself with his surroundings before he relaxed. He sighed and nodded, then, “How could you guess?”

Miana slid down the ladder, and moved it to the other side of the building, “Well, Lauro said he saw you dragging a very disheveled looking man around the square a week ago, said you looked concerned. Then, the guy left that same day. Not hard to put two and two together.”

It occurred to him that they did not realize Byleth was the Archbishop. He didn't feel the need to tell them, so he nodded.

“Yes, he is a very stubborn man, and will not get himself help unless you drag him to it.”

“Was it the same man who side-eyed me when I called you Patches after your speech?” Parcel inquired, and released the rope to scratch behind his ear, Miana yelled at him, and he swiftly took the rope in hand again.

“Perhaps, his hair is a lovely light shade of green.”

“Creepy eyes?”

“Well… I think they are rather beauti-”

“Yeah, same guy,” Parcel shuddered, “I was a bit worried he was going to kill me in my sleep.”

Dimitri laughed, hard.

“What? You can not tell me that man doesn’t know 12 ways to kill you with like… I don't know, his pinky.”

“Honestly, he very well may. He once was a mercenary, you know.”

Miana stared down at him from her perch, “Wow, the King with a former mercenary? What sort of love story did you two stumble from?”

“Nothing quite so frivolous, I assure you. He was… Simply there when I needed him the most. Byleth tends to unsettle people when they first meet him, a lot, but once you get to know him, he is truly the kindest and most thoughtful man you ever will meet.”

“So… What? Bodyguard? Saved you from some ruffians like a dashing hero?” Parcel cooed, Dimitri got the sneaking suspicion they were making fun of him.

Still, he would never tire talking of Byleth.

“No, he was my Professor, believe it or not.”

Miana choked, “Your what? ”

“I mean, it was well over five years ago now, but he had taught briefly at the Officers Academy at Garreg Mach. That is how we knew each other, though yes, he did save my life from Bandits the first night we met.”

“Huh, didn't take the guy for a teaching type.”

“Neither did anyone else, honestly. But he was a fantastic one, if not a bit eccentric on how he taught us.”

Parcel nodded along, and let go of the rope - much to Miana’s growing irritation - as the tell-tale sound of wheels entered the building’s rough structure. They got a new wagon.

“Got more bricks!” Caspar cheered.

“Nice! Did you know King Patches’ Beloved used to be his professor?” Parcel stage-whispered, much to both Dimitri’s and Caspar’s amusement.

“Uh, duh. We went to the same school, I even ended up being transferred into his class I’ll have you know.”

“Really? Was he strict?”

Caspar shrugged, “Eh, not really. But he left us to our own devices if we fucked up. Unless our lives were in danger I guess, but still.”

“Huh, he looked like he would have been super strict and scary.”

“Oh hell yeah he was, until you got to know him. Or you pissed him off, then he was actually scary.”

Dimitri did not recall a time Byleth had gotten angry at any of the students.

Parcel helped him hold the rope again and inquired, “Yeah? What’d you do?”

“Nah, he was never angry at us. But you should have seen him when he met Bernadetta’s father for the first time, or heard people talking shit about Dedue.”

“Will you three stop gossiping like children and hold the rope steady?” Miana groused, it was only then that Dimitri realized she hung half off the ladder, her arm hooked around the wood to try and keep it level whilst she also tried to hammer.

“Sorry.”

Caspar and Parcel barely acknowledged her, though both took hold of the rope and evened out the long stretch of wood.

“He gave us flowers, all the time. Never said anything about it either just, oh hey, here’s your daily flower,” Caspar laughed, “Oh and tea with him was either a complete disaster or the best you’ve ever had. No inbetween with that guy.”

“Never took you for the sort that likes tea, Blue.”

“Normally I don't, but I don't know what magic he infused the tea I have with him now, because it is delicious. You should get him to pour you a cup, I’m sure you’d love it.”

“Maybe the next time I see him and he doesn't look like he wants to kill me, I will.”

“Nah man, that's just his face.”

“Oh, lovely.”

“You get used to it.”

Miana tossed her hammer down, it flew a mere breath from Caspar’s head, “If you two do not stop rambling, I will kick you both out an’ Patches and I will finish up and get paid for the work we’re actually doing.”

“Sorry Ma’am.”

Dimitri chuckled, would it be strange to invite the carpenters up to Fhirdiad? Well, it would be an awfully long trip just to treat them to lunch, perhaps when he needed a large-scale project done there he would hire them. 

By the time the second week passed, most remaining houses were rebuilt, and construction on the palace began in earnest. 

“It’ll be fine, Your Majesty,” Dorothea assured, and patted his knee, “I will send frequent updates, and Caspar promised he’d make sure the approved layout will be followed to the T.”

“Thank you Dorothea, truely.”

“Yes, yes. Now go see our Professor, you're not the only one worried about him you know! Make sure to write as soon as you learn of his state, if I hear the man did something to hurt himself again I will go up there myself and strangle him.”

Dimitri snorted a laugh, “You’d have to wait until Seteth and Flayn finished with him.”

“Oh I would, do not try me, Dimitri.”

“I don't doubt that.”

She nodded firmly, and pulled away from Juniper Axe’s side. Caspar and a couple others were there to see him off. Manuela decided to stay in Enbarr for a bit longer, she wished to visit with Hanneman while construction for the school began. Though she made it very clear to send word the moment Byleth did something foolish, and she would be there in record time.

Ingrid hummed beside him on her pegasus, she seemed quite chipper. Dimitri took a moment to wonder why, then decided he could always inquire on their journey to the Monastery. Instead, he turned his horse to the gates and gave a small wave to the group that had gathered at the gates of Enbarr.

Enbarr no longer seemed such a terrifying place. He was thankful for that small gift, he actually looked forward to the next chance he’d have to return to the sprawling city. Now, however, he was more excited to see his Beloved again.

Though, also concerned. He had yet to receive any letters of troubling news from Seteth or Flayn, so he knew he could rest assured that Byleth was in more or less good health. But he worried for the man even so. 

The city disappeared behind him as they rode on, northeast, toward Gronder Field to cross the bridge and travel to the Monastery. Dedue cleared his throat, as they set up camp for the evening. 

Dimitri finished pitching his own tent before turning to his friend, “Everything alright, Dedue?”

“I should be asking you that,” The man rumbled, “Byleth left suddenly, you have not spoken of it.”

It struck him that Seteth must not have said anything to their peers when he left with Flayn and Byleth. To be fair though, neither did Dimitri, he supposed. Of course they’d be worried about him, he was not the only one that loved Byleth.

“It… Slipped my mind,” Dimitri clasped one fold of the tent to the wooden post that supported it, keeping the temporary shelter open, “He is alright, I think. Seteth was unconcerned, but they needed to return to Garreg Mach for… Treatment.”

Not speaking the whole truth to Dedue felt wrong. He trusted him as he did no other, he was Dimitri’s closest friend. To be hiding something from him felt like a betrayal of that trust. Yet… He had promised. He could not tell Dedue the reality of Byleth’s nature. 

Dedue’s eyes narrowed, perhaps Dimitri was not as good at dancing around the truth as he had hoped. 

He deflated, “I do not know what exactly is happening to him, he is ill, but Seteh assured me he will be fine. That is all I was told.”

The man nodded and swooped down to help him finish the fastening of the tent, “I see. We will be stopping by the Monastery on our way back to Fhirdiad, yes?”

“Yes, I do have to return the healers that accompanied us.”

Dedue nodded once, and that was that.

“Your Majesty.”

Dimitri stood to face Ingrid, the woman had a bundle of papers in her arms. Dimitri offered to take them from her, which she eagerly took advantage of and dumped the pile onto his hands.

“There is paperwork that needs to be gone over and signed. I tried to sort it by importance, some minor lords are having a squabble over a hunt, another claims one of their rival house’s son killed their prized goat, and threatens to start a battle over it… Concerns of rising theft in the west, inquiries about taxes, minor market disputes, and… Well, marriage proposals. ”

Dimitri snorted at the way Indgrid’s lip lifted as she spoke of the marriage proposals, he shared her sentiment toward them. Still, he would have to write back each one and state he was uninterested in their courtship, such were proper manners.

Perhaps he needed to be more blatant in his courtship of Byleth? He wasn't sure how much more obvious he could be, he had the man’s ring around his neck constantly. He hasn't taken it off since he found leather sturdy enough to string around his neck.

Maybe he should string it in silver or gold? Make it more obvious at a glance?

Dedue peered around him to pluck a paper from the bottom, his eyes scanned over the page, he snorted, and returned it. 

Ingrid sighed, “They're awful.”

“They are,” Dedue agreed, “You truly have to write back to each one?”

“I am a King, if I do not show my people the proper respect, how can I lead them?”

“It is no secret you are courting his Grace,” Ingrid groused, she worried her lip between her teeth, “ They're the ones with no respect.”

Dimitri agreed with her, but shrugged even so, “Such is life. I have no interest in them, I will write as such.”

Ingrid scoffed, “You are far nicer than I would have been, were I in your position.”

“I am well aware, Ingrid. Speaking of which,” Dimitri tucked the papers under an arm, and grinned at her, “You were awfully chipper when we were in Enbarr, something I should know of?”

The woman immediately flushed red, “I… Am needed, over there, on the other side of the camp, away from you.”

Ingrid darted away from him with speed he had rarely seen her demonstrate. He chuckled, and turned into his tent, Dedue on his tail.

“I should get a head start on these, perhaps I can send Ingrid and a few other couriers ahead to Fhirdiad so these letters may be delivered swiftly.”

Dedue took station behind him as Dimitri began to work, silent, but there if Dimitri needed him. His back ached, next time he would be doing this much traveling, he’d bring proper carriages. Writing letters on his thigh was far from professional, still, his armor provided a decent enough hard surface to work from.

Garreg Mach stood proud against the sky and mountains surrounding it.

It was a relief to see the area untouched by any sort of damage or signs of battle, of course, he would have known if there had been any trouble, but still. He was glad things were alright.

The healers that accompanied him split off as they crossed the monestary’s walls, no doubt each returning to their proper places or rooms. He hoped they got some rest before they began their duties, traveling was exhausting, especially when unaccustomed to it.

Ingrid and a few of her other pegasus knights had flown ahead to Fhirdiad, he had finished writing his responses to each of the papers that were sent to him. He had the time when they set up camp at night.

His first stop was the stables. Once Juniper Axe was settled, he gave the horse a carrot, and found his way to the Cathedral.

Usually, Byleth was there, however Seteth led the faithful instead.

Worry blossomed in Dimitri’s gut, but he remained silent as the sermons concluded. Seteth spotted him easily, and once the room had emptied out for the most part, he approached. 

“I see you are back, all well in Enbarr?”

“Yes, the palace has begun construction, and most houses have been repaired now.”

Seteth nodded, “Good, I take you're here for Byleth though, yes?”

“Yes, is he… Alright?”

“He is fine, dramatic, but fine,” He snorted, Dimitri wasn't sure what to make of that response, so he chose to stay silent as Seteth led him from the Cathedral. 

“What is happening to him?”

Seteth gestured for him to climb the stairs, “Something that happens to all of our kind, albeit, quite late and in… Odd circumstances.”

“Which is…?”

The man remained quiet until they started to climb to the third floor, “For lack of a better word in your tongue, puberty. ”

Dimitri laughed, though his chuckles petered out as when they reached the top step, the entire floor reeked of smoke and ash. His heart began to hammer in his chest, but before panic took hold, Seteth placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

He swept past him, and started to bang on the heavy wooden door that led to Byleth’s room.

“I told you to send word if you caught something on fire again!”

“I handled it,” Came Byleth’s irritated reply.

“ Handled it ,” Seteth scoffed, “If you destroy your room I am not allowing you to take residence in another!”

“It is fine.”

Seteth rolled his eyes, “How is your lip healing?”

“ Fine. ”

The man shook his head, and gestured for Dimitri to approach, he did, though was unsure what all was happening.

“Open the door.”

“No.”

Seteth drew a hand down his face, “He is worse than Flayn was, and she had been a nightmare.”

Dimitri laughed, “He just sounds tired.”

The door opened shortly after he spoke, Byleth had a blanket wrapped around him, only his face visible from the cotton. His heart ached at the sight, he had missed the man so, so, much. Though, he looked absolutely miserable. 

His skin was ashen pale, bags were prominent under his eyes, and the man was sweating, despite being wrapped so firmly in a blanket, and shivering. Dimitri scooted closer, and opened his arms as a silent invitation, Byleth accepted and thumped his head against his chest.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Seteth sighed, “Your Majesty, since your lover here seems incapable, please tell me if he sets something on fire or does some other stupid thing.”

Dimitri chuckled, “I will.”

The man nodded and turned on his heel, returning downstairs. 

He rubbed his face on Byleth’s sweaty hair, “I missed you.”

“Me too.”

“You smell like a campfire.”

Byleth grunted, the noise muffled by Dimitri’s armor. That couldn't be comfortable, yet, Byleth appeared perfectly content to just press his cheek against the metal. When he made no motion to move, Dimitri realized he’d have to wrassle his beloved back to getting the bedrest he very clearly needed.

He maneuvered the man to sit on the edge of his bed as he unclasped his armor, some sheets pushed in a far corner of the room had a black ashen tinge to them. Must have been Byleth’s latest victim.

Dimitri really hoped Byleth wouldn't set him on fire as well.

“Are you alright, need anything?”

Byleth shook his head, and adjusted the blanket wrapped around him, pulling it even closer.

He really wished he had Mercede’s touch when it came to this sort of thing. She always knew the right words to say, and how to coax out the best way to help even the most stubborn of patients. Dimitri should know, he had been one of them many times.

It frustrated him, not having all the information.

Dimitri wanted to know everything, wanted to know why the man was setting stuff on fire, wanted to know why he looked so ill, wanted to know what part of this insanity screamed ‘puberty’? When he was in his cotton underclothes, he sat beside Byleth on his bed.

“Do you want me to rest with you?”

Byleth nodded, and scooted away from him, presumably giving him room to lay down. Dimitri took the quiet invitation, and laid down, adjusting himself so he could be under at least some of the blankets Byleth hadn't hoarded around himself like a cacoon. When he stilled, Byleth flopped down against his side, his head just over his heart.

He was hot.

Not in an attractive way, well, he was, but he more so was concerned how hot the man’s skin was. No person’s skin would ever get that hot, short of being cooked alive. Yet there Byleth was, pressed against his side, the heat he exuded was almost painful. He shifted to relive some of his more sensitive skin from the searing heat, and when he found a good enough middleground between allowing Byleth to cuddle with him, and not getting cooked himself, Dimitri settled down.

Dimitri was terribly uncomfortable, given how tense Byleth was, he could probably tell.

He pulled an arm to rest over the blankets around Byleth’s shoulders, that seemed to ease the man’s stiffness, and he relaxed against him. Though Byleth was more careful to put a bit of a distance between them. Dimitri pulled him close, and just adjusted them so they did not make direct skin contact, it helped, and he let his head fall back on the pillows that piled the head of the bed.

In what seemed like mere minutes, soft breaths Dimitri had come to associate with Byleth sleeping, were heard. Good, he clearly needed the rest.

Though Dimitri was uncomfortably warm.

He noticed the book Byleth had grabbed from Enbarr rested on the little nightstand beside his bed. Dimitri, with great care not to disturb Byleth, reached over to grab it, then flipped it open. He couldn't read it, but maybe if he looked at the pictures long enough, he could discern some sort of meaning.

The page with the faded four-winged dragon had been bookmarked with a ribbon, Dimitri was careful not to lose the place, as he turned the page. More dragons, one looked like a turtle. As he continued to pursue the images the book held, he stopped when he came to a page of humans.

Or, human-like figures.

They all had striking green hair and green eyes that were too bright, too narrow, too… Too much like Byleth’s.

He flipped to the next page.

The people had sharp fangs and pointed ears, and could turn into dragons? Or perhaps it was the other way around, perhaps the dragons could turn into them. There was an image of a man that looked far too much like Seteth for Dimitri’s comfort, and flipped to the next page. 

It was a city, maybe. Built in some sort of canyon, it seemed magnificent, there were a ton of notes scribbled all over the pages. Dimitri could almost feel the excitement of the author through the increasingly messy scrawl. The next page was of clothes, bright vibrant patterns were shown, and an image of a young woman with pointed ears and hair longer than Dimitri thought to truly be practical was illustrated. 

Something about her itched at Dimitri’s mind.

Even through a mere drawing, the girl seemed regal, exuding a power Dimitri could not fathom. She had the same eyes Byleth did, as they gazed off into whatever had caught her attention at the time, her chin propped up on her palm, expression neutral, but kind. 

Like Byleth.

On a whim, Dimitri carefully tucked some hair from Byleth’s face and behind a single rounded ear. Of course, what had he expected? How utterly foolish.

He closed the book, perhaps the strain of travel had been getting to him. He was exhausted. 

Dimitri set it back on the nightstand, and scooted himself down to properly embrace his Beloved. The man mumbled his irritation at being moved, but Dimitri kissed his grousing away with a single peck to his far too warm forehead. 

There was another white spot, just below his jaw, pearlescent. Beautiful yet terrifying in it’s mystery.

What was happening to Byleth?

Dimitri feared what the future might bring for his Beloved.

Chapter Text

Dimitri did not sleep that night.

At all.

Laying beside Byleth was akin to laying upon an open flame. His skin itched and he was far, far too warm to be comfortable. Yet, he suffered through it without complaint. If Byleth could power through whatever was happening to him, so that he could stay at Enbarr to support him, Dimitri could do the same.

Dimitri hoped the heat he emanated would not be a permanent thing. He would hate not being able to enjoy Byleth’s warmth at his side. Or, perhaps he could build a tolerance for it? Living in Faerghus would make that difficult, but he’d find a way to get himself more accustomed to heat.

There was a hitch of breath beside him, followed by a murmured curse.

He let his eye open and glanced down to see Byleth awake, curled further in on himself. Dimitri’s brow furrowed, but he did not move. 

Not until Byleth’s hand slid from the cocoon of blankets around him and tugged on his shirt, his grip weak and shaky, voice equally so, “Dimitri, I- I need… Get Seteth.”

Dimitri was on his feet in a heartbeat. He grabbed the man, and flew from the room. Byleth was frighteningly silent, even as Dimitri skipped a few steps from his race down the third floor, and nearly sent them both to the ground. He righted himself before they fell, and ran to Seteth’s office.

The sun had not yet risen, and so too, it seemed Seteth was still asleep.

Where were his chambers?

“Byleth, where does Seteth sleep?”

Byleth grunted, his eyes were squeezed shut, he was in pain. Dimitri adjusted his grip, and hoped how he carried him was not adding to it.

“C-Cathedral. Outside, there are… Rooms, to the left.”

Dimitri wasted no further time as he ran as fast as his sleep-addled legs could take him. A part of Dimitri was grateful few were awake yet, the last thing he needed to deal with was people seeing him in his underclothes, panicking, carrying the Archbishop around in a bundle of blankets. Oh the talk that would stem from that would be horrid.

There were a few night guards posted in the skies, though, he had no doubt they’d be reporting the oddest thing to their superior come morning.

The Cathedral was eery when silent, no music, no voices. Nothing but the drip of water against glass from when it had rained the evening prior. Dimitri followed Byleth’s vague instructions, and found himself before a hall, just to the left of the Cathedral, within a smaller offshoot of the massive place.

Who all resided here?

It didn't matter, his fist made contact with the closest door, the wood buckled under his force, but he did not care. He’d replace it himself if he had to, Byleth was in pain, his temperature rose at an alarming level, enough so Dimitri could feel his skin burn, even through the layers that surrounded him.

The door flung open, Flayn blinked at him, her eyes still half closed as she took in the sight before her. She wore a nightgown, it brushed against her knees as she rubbed her eye, her hair tied behind her in a braid. 

Ah, Dimitri thought in a moment of clarity, she did braid her hair.

Flayn’s eyes widened when she saw the state of Byleth in his arms, “Oh dear.”

Her bare feet smacked against the stone as she ran a couple rooms over and started banging on the door, “Brother! Brother, wake up!”

Seteth stumbled from the door with the grace of a bull among porcelain. His eyes wide, frantic. They settled on Flayn, and he relaxed, only to stiffen again when they rested on Dimitri, or more accurately, Byleth. 

“For fucks sake- Flayn, get dressed. We need to leave immediately.”

Seteth strode over to Dimitri, and pulled at the blankets around Byleth, more white spots peppered up his neck and jaw, they glowed in the dark of the stone walls around them. What were they?

His hand rested on Byleth’s sweaty forehead, Dimitri opened his mouth to warn him of the heat, but Seteth seemed entirely unbothered as his bare skin made contact with Byleth’s. His brows furrowed, and he grabbed Byleth from his arms. 

Dimitri was reluctant to release him.

“ Dimitri, ” Seteth’s voice was stern, “I will take care of him from here. Go to the infirmary for your burns, you should not have been holding him for so long.”

The blankets fell open as Seteth slung Byleth’s arm around his shoulders, and used his own arm to steady him. Dimitri wrung his fingers together, he could feel where blisters were beginning to form along his forearms and palms. The cloth around Byleth’s shoulders started to smoulder.

Seteth sighed and brushed the covers off of him, infuriatingly calm. Byleth wore nothing but cotton pants, they too started to smoke. 

“Nothing can be easy with you, can it?” Seteth groused, and led the man away from Dimitri, into his own room, just as Flayn reappeared, fully dressed, though her hair still in a braid.

“Here,” Flayn, with gentle tugs, pulled his hands apart and ran her glowing palms along his skin, where the blisters had begun to take form. 

They stung, even as the cool wave of magic washed over them. He flinched when she had brushed over a particularly sensitive one, though relaxed as the green folded itself into his flesh, and healed where he had been burnt.

“You alright, Little Brother?”

Dimitri chuckled, she barely came up to his ribs, and yet she still called him little brother. It was… Nice. In a strange, foreign, way.

“Yes, thank you. My concerns are for Byleth though.”

Flayn nodded, “Ah. He will be alright, he has a rather backwards way of doing things though.”

“How so?”

“Well,” Flayn hummed, “Normally the first shift is from dragon to human, not the other way around. The second shift is back to dragon again. It is like… He skipped the first one!”

What?

Oblivious to Dimitri’s confusion and only mild panic, she patted his arm, “Do not fret though! My second shift had been a disaster! Why, I burnt down the whole cabin, Mother found it hilarious… Fa- erm, Brother found it less so.”

When Seteth emerged from his room, both he and Byleth were dressed. The cloak and tunic draped around Byleth’s body looked strange, they shone like silk, yet did not seem to swealter against the heat Dimitri knew radiated from his Beloved’s body. Perhaps they were enchanted, or specially crafted for folk like him.

Dimitri’s head hurt.

Seteth flipped the hood up over the back of Byleth’s head, to hide the shimmering white dots, no, scales, that littered his face. 

“Flayn, make sure you pack clothes, we will be gone for some time.”

“Hm? Are we not going to the village?”

Seteth shook his head, “No, not until he has himself under control.”

Dimitri chewed on the end of his thumb, worrying the calloused skin between his teeth, “Village?”

They both tensed when he spoke, and he realized he probably was not meant to have heard that.

“You will likely learn of it, in due time, but for now, know it is a safe place Byleth will likely take residence in from time to time as needed.”

That was enough for him. Flayn trotted back into her room, and Seteth adjusted his grip on Byleth, only to find the man leaning even further down on him. He sighed, then nodded to Dimitri, “Will you help me get him on my back, he is quite useless right now.”

Dimitri did not need to be asked twice. He moved behind them, and gently guided Byleth’s searing limbs around Seteth’s shoulders, and helped him adjust his legs, before Seteth pushed to his feet proper, Byleth hung limp from his back.

“Does… That not hurt?”

Seteth shook his head, and bounced the man further up his back, “No, our kind naturally runs hot, heat does not bother us as it does humans.”

They stood in silence, Flayn could be heard rustling around her room, packing whatever she would need on their journey. When she emerged, a bag dangling from her slim fingers, Seteth brushed past Dimitri, and kneed open the door. 

Mist floated through the air. Not truely raining, but a gentle cool fog settled over the Monastery. Dimitri followed them out, and held the door for Flayn, padding behind them as they traveled down stone steps to the stable. Flayn let out her pegasus, and whistled. 

Dimitri watched her silently, confused, until the flap of wings above them were heard. Seteth’s wyvern landed before them, and Dagur perched upon the roof of the stable, water dripped from their smooth scales.

Seteth maneuvered Byleth onto the warm brown wyvern’s back. Dimitri helped the man orient him so he wouldn't slide off, and kept his hand near the far too warm leg, in case Byleth lost his balance while Seteth tossed bags over the pegasus’ haunches.

“We will be gone for some time, Dimitri,” Seteth spoke, and brushed damp hair from his sister’s face. 

“I figured, I suppose this is one of the times we will need to be apart, and that is alright. I eagerly await his, and your, return. I only ask for you to bring him back safely.”

Seteth nodded, “Of course, he is family. We take care of our own.”

Dimitri nodded back, and stepped away when Seteth mounted his wyvern behind Byleth’s shivering body. He adjusted the reigns, and pressed the back of his hand to Byleth’s forehead. The man’s eyes were no longer open, he barely seemed conscious. Dimitri feared for his health.

Seteth patted Byleth’s head, largely unconcerned, and urged his wyvern to stand, he turned his head to regard him, “You are family as well, Dimitri, do not do something foolish while we are gone.”

Without another word, and a flap of wings, they were gone. Dagur remained on the roof of the stables for a moment. She hopped down to stand beside Dimitri’s frozen form, butted her head against his arm, then took off into the sky to fly after them.

Family.

He was… Family.

It was hard to tell if the water that fell along his cheek were tears or the result of the skies opening to rain in earnest.

Dimitri could not focus in the slightest. His mind would not let him rest, constantly shifting to Byleth, longing to be by his side once more.

He couldn't tell if it was his concern for the state of Byleth when he saw him last, or if he had begun to develop some sort of separation anxiety, like a stray mutt. Dimitri knew thinking of himself as a feral creature wasn't healthy, but damn if it didn't fit how he acted for five years before Byleth returned to them.

He growled and snarled at everything around him, Byleth at the time had to physically wrestle him into a bath when he had let a wound fester and get infected. Again.

Dimitri turned his head, his cheek pressed against the cold wood of his desk, there were still so many papers that needed to get done. He understood more now why his father always seemed happy for interruptions from his work. What he wouldn't give for some nondescript something to happen so he could have an excuse to not suffer through the dull words of the stuck up.

No, no. It wouldn't do good to think of the nobility as a whole as ‘stuck up’. 

Some of them had valid concerns and reasons for writing to him, he could respect that. Others wrote to him because they were inviting him to the grand birthday of their family’s dog. He had to respond, politely, that he was flattered, but would be unable to make it to Sir Thoose’s third year birthday celebration.

Even those that wrote to him because they were irritated in how the commoners of their territory were acting, were still his subjects. He still needed to treat and write to them with respect, even if being in the same room as some of them made his skin crawl. 

He sorely missed his Beloved, and he had only been without him for a week.

The gentle knocks on Dimitri’s door were a very, very, welcome distraction. He leaned back in his blue chair, “Come in.”

Dedue peeked his head inside, then stepped in fully and shut the door behind him. His brows were furrowed, but held no paper in his hand that could have been the cause. 

Dimitri rested his elbow on the arm of his chair, “What troubles you, my friend?”

“Ingrid reported there have been unusual movements in bandits south of here, she says they carry no banner, but she does not believe them to be the usual lowlifes.”

That was concerning. He trusted Ingrid’s judgement, if there was something off about the bandits she had spied, they clearly had something planned. Perhaps a coupe? The thought was not wholly concerning, he had more than enough confidence in defending himself and his people, but still. People do not revolt without reason.

“Do we know their motives?”

Dedue shook his head, “Ingrid sent some of her best to keep an eye on them, and will report back when she finds anything. They seemed to be moving toward the Sreng region.”

Well, that would be a ridiculous place to try and spurn a revolution, so it likely was not the case. He wondered what could be there that they searched for, or perhaps they simply were from that region, and were returning home? Ingrid could jump the horse on things, especially when other matters plagued her mind.

Dimitri knew he was far from the only one that worried for their former professor.

He traveled back to Fhirdiad the day after Byleth left with Seteth and Flayn, he had wanted to stay there, protect the monastery until it’s guardian returned. Yet, he was ushered away, mostly by Alois, assuring him he’d keep everything under control while they were away. Dimitri trusted him, but still did not want to leave.

Dedue ultimately was the one who convinced him to return to his people. As strange as it may be, he often considered Garreg Mach more of a home than his own castle. Perhaps it was the memories he had built there, or the years he spent defending it from others. He wondered if there would be a way to change that, a way to truly feel comfortable in his own room, his own home.

A small voice told him that home was where Byleth was. He was inclined to agree, but he also recognized he needed to not be so dependent on Byleth.

Another voice said it lacked the blood of sinners rightfully spilled. He ignored that one.

He heaved a sigh, and grabbed another paper from the endless pile, oh wonderful, another marriage proposal.

My Dearest King,

Ah, great start.

I have chosen to follow my heart, and make the mature decision to seek your courtship. My mind is always full of thoughts of you and your heroic deeds, why just writing this my heart beats so very fast. Such things have been on my mind for a while now, and I simply must make my love known.

I know within my heart we would be perfect together. My family line is strong, and many of our kin bear crests easily. I surely will be no different from my mother, or my grandmother before her. We could have the strongest heir together, I am sure. I know my heart is true, and our union would be one celebrated for generations. 

I eagerly await your acceptance,

Lady Eva of house Belka.

He wanted nothing more to rip the paper up and burn it, but alas. He could not. He was a king, and as such, his duty was to be kind to his people. Including when they wanted to make him tear his hair out.

He had not noticed Dedue approach, and startled when Dedue started laughing. 

“Are they all like that?”

“Like what?”

Dedue made a vague motion with his hand, “Ridiculous.”

Dimitri chuckled, “Yes, mostly.”

“All from women?”

That… Caught Dimitri off guard. He blinked a few times, then turned to glance up at his friend, “Yes? Yes, I do believe so. Why?”

Dedue shrugged, “I had figured you preferred the company of men, I am surprised none have written to you.”

Did he prefer the company of men? 

Dimitri had not given it any thought, he had only truly wanted Byleth in such an… Intimate way. Sure, he found his eyes lingering occasionally on other men in his youth, but that's all it was. Simple glances appreciating a well toned figure from years as a mercenary, or the way Byleth’s hair would flow around his slim neck when he turned, or how his footwork was always so sure.

Dimitri wondered in the privacy of his own room at night, what it would take for the man to lose his composure.

Oh.

Oh dear.

He looked at women too, right? Shit, other people, right? Ingrid is pretty enough, so are Mercedes and Dorothea of course. 

They had nice shapes. 

Very soft. 

Good?

Dimitri ran a hand through his hair, surely he was just as attracted to women, right? Sure, preferring the same sex was far from a problem in Faerghus, had not been for generations, yet… Marrying was occasionally frowned upon. Especially in higher bred families.

Not that it would stop Dimitri from courting and marrying his Beloved, of course, but it brought up things he had never considered. 

Dedue patted his shoulder, “I didn't mean to give you reason for concern, Your Majesty.”

“No, no. I’m not concerned, I just… It never occured to me. Before Byleth, I had never romantically or ah, physically desired someone in earnest.”

“Hm. Well, perhaps you are simply attracted to Byleth himself, and that is all. It does not need to be more complicated than that.”

Dimitri pulled at a fresh sheet of parchment, “I… Suppose you are right.”

Dedue chuckled, “Leave it be for now, let us spar, Dimitri. You are tense.”

“Yes, I am. Thank you Dedue, let us do just that.”

Sparring helped quiet the voices, but not his worry.

He adjusted his grip on the lance across his lap, and ran the cloth along the staff. Dimitri was sweaty, and felt as though he reeked, yet, he could only focus on cleaning his lance. It wasn't dirty, yet beneath it’s hidden shine, blood and dirt had soaked into the glowing weapon. He knew it had.

Dimitri had to make sure it was clean. Free of the evils it had been forced to do under his hand.

He continued to rub at the seemingly clean bone-like metal for some time, until a heavy weight on his shoulder snapped him to reality, “It is clean enough, Your Majesty. Let us bathe, and you need to eat.”

Dimitri turned his head from Dedue, back to his lance. The fingers of the weapon twitched, was it displeased with him? Was it not clean enough? Would it ever truly be clean again? He would scrub his fingers bloody if the weapon would forgive him, if everyone would forgive him.

“ Dimitri. ”

“Right, right. Sorry, give me a moment to regain myself.”

Dedue did not leave his side and Dimitri counted to twenty. He found focusing on a very simple, very clear, goal helped him work through moments like this. Bernedetta taught it to him, said it helped her when she suffered from panic attacks. 

Dimitri wasn't sure if this was a panic attack, but regardless, it helped him feel real again. 

He stood and stored Areadbhar in it’s rightful place, far from the eyes of others, but easy for him to find and grab if the need arose. 

He and Dedue bathed, and ate, and Dimitri returned to his quarters. He wrote his apologies and uninterest in Lady Eva, and wrote to a duke that yes, he would need to refinance if being sure his servants were paid properly was a problem. 

Greedy bastard.

Dimitri was caught off guard by his own thought. He ran a hand through his hair, took in a breath, and let it out. He was on edge, yet couldn't quite figure out why. Perhaps he had not been sleeping enough? 

Yes, that had to be it. 

He retired early that night, and would look over the papers he wrote the next morning, he needed to make sure none of his irritation could be read in his words.

Another week passed without a word on Byleth’s state. 

Dimitri knew it could be a while, Seteth told him blatantly. Were they at that village he and Flayn had spoken of? Perhaps that was where Lady Rhea disappeared, after they had saved her.

Were they somewhere far from Foldan, where he would never hope to reach them?

Even when apart from Byleth by duty, he could rest easy knowing where he was, knowing more or less what he was doing. He would receive occasional updates from those that lived within the monastery, or from Byleth himself. Not exactly casual letters, and certainly far from his attempt at a love letter, but… It was word from him nonetheless.

Dimitri did not like this, he did not like it one bit. 

Would it be like this every time Byleth left?

Dimitri rubbed the sides of his head, he could feel another migraine coming on. He would write Mercedes to send him more of those herbs she had before, they had helped quite a lot when the head pain grew too much to bare.

The ‘bandits’ Ingrid worried about had disappeared, vanished as if they dissolved into air. One moment they were there, they next, they were not. 

There was the possibility of them being warped, yet, the amount of strength a single mage or two would have to move such a large group would be impossible. That led to the conclusion that there were several powerful mages with them, ones powerful enough to move people great distances. 

That alone was damn concerning.

Ingrid had her people scouting for them, but Dimitri would not be surprised if they came up empty handed. They likely caught on they were being tailed and would lay low for some time before they moved again.

Dimitri prayed they were simple travelers, and nothing more. He could not stomach dealing with another war. He still hadn't recovered from the previous one. Probably never would, in truth.

Sylvain and Felix would be spending the next couple of nights in the castle as well, under the guise of keeping him company, but he had seen the way their eyes lingered on him. Seen the way Dedue always stationed himself where he could see Dimitri. They were worried about him, and knowing that warmed his heart.

He hoped they were worried, at least. 

The other possibility was they were frightened he would fly off the handle again, become a feral monster again in the absence of Byleth. As if his entire being rested on whether or not Byleth was around.

In a way, it often felt as if that were the case. 

It was not healthy. He needed to find other ways to soothe and process stress without Byleth. The man could not be by his side constantly, even if it was what Dimitri longed for. They both were grown men, grown men in positions of great authority no less.

His friends cared about him, he reminded himself, they were worried because he was worried. He knew that was the case, yet… Convincing his heart to know that too was difficult. 

Time marched forward, a month passed.

No word.

Two months.

Nothing.

Dimitri buried himself in work.

Had it not been for those around him forcing him to eat and sleep, Dimitri would not know how many days had passed. Everything blurred together. 

Get up, train, paperwork, eat, entertain guests of the castle, quell worries from his people, more paperwork, eat, more guests, paperwork, sleep. Repeated each day.

Mercedes delivered the herbs he had written to her about in person, even brought others for him to try, some that might make him less groggy, or some that would help him sleep better through the night. He had been so thankful, he actually cried. 

She rubbed his back through his momentary breakdown, he was so overwhelmed. So lost. So consumed with worry.

Byleth had been all but limp when Seteth and Flayn left with him, he was so pale. Had he even been breathing? Was he still alive?

Felix sparred with him. It helped not having to worry about breaking another training dummy, and maybe getting kicked around by his friend helped him realize just how distracted he truly was. If Felix could pummel him so easily, was Dimitri giving his people the proper attention they deserved?

Ingrid kept him up to date on news outside of his city. She constantly ran him letters, and would tell him all about things she saw on her travels. Lorenz had written him about something Hilda’s brother did that infuriated him. Holdst must have burped in his presence or something, still, even with the overly wordy letter, there was an underlying concern there that touched him. 

Lorenz was creating drama for Dimitri to be entertained with. It was stupid, but, it was such a Lorenz thing to do. He appreciated the effort.

Sylvain kept him woefully informed on the gossip between the different houses. House Arkidi’s first son had gotten hitched to a crestless girl from the former Imperial territory, and had fled south to join her merchant family. The whole house of Arkidi was up in tears over it. Despite them having two other children that bore crests. 

Ashe showed him plans for the restaurant he was building with his siblings. His eyes lit up in absolute joy as he explained what the cuisine would be, and even cooked him a few dishes.

Dimitri could not taste them, but they smelled amazing, he made sure Ashe knew he was doing fantastically. Dedue’s lip wobbled a little when he said he wanted to cook dishes from Duscur. Ashe scurried off to the kitchen, and Dimitri patted his friend’s arm, then nodded after him. 

Dedue flushed, but stood and followed the man. 

When they did not return, Dimitri gathered the dishes and cleaned them in the newly empty kitchen before he tucked in for the night.

Annette practiced her magic around him. He didn't say much, but listening to her babble and explain what she was doing was nice, and filled the silence he would have otherwise sat in alone. He worked better with company, he found. 

Dorothea and Caspar wrote him with updates about the palace and construction in general. Caspar often would end up getting distracted in his own letter and start talking about the most insignificant things. He saw an ant carry a leaf bigger than it was, he wanted to be that strong.

Dorothea would write more professional letters, but they too would fall into drabble after a couple paragraphs. Petra had come to visit her, and brought her a necklace, it was a betrothal gift for people of Brigid. She was so excited, and couldn't wait to plan the wedding. He of course, would be invited, and if he did not show up she would leave the altar to drag his ass down.

Dimitri laughed.

He took to writing from the dining table, people would flutter around him, doing their usual dos. The background noise helped him focus. They never spoke to him, unless it was a close friend that passed by, but it was fine. He wasn't alone, and that helped.

Ignatz sent him letters too, though they often didn't have much to say, he would create the most magnificent pictures on them. He saved every letter a friend sent him, he rarely had the opportunity to write them back; he had to prioritize his subjects over his friends, as much as he disliked to. 

They all were neatly kept in the bottom drawer of the desk in Dimitri’s room. When he woke from nightmares, or felt himself begin to spiral, he would take the papers out and read them. 

He wasn't alone, people were there for him. They cared about him.

It helped.

A third month passed.

Dimitri retired early for the night, on the cusp of the fourth month without any word of Byleth. Dedue had assured him that no, the kingdom would not collapse if he took a night off to relax. Especially since he was struck with another migraine. The herbs helped enormously, but still took time to actually kick in.

It would be easier to focus on sleep, had voices not been squabbling just outside his door for five minutes now.

“Oh ho, no you will not!” Ingrid at least was trying to be quiet, “I flew the journey straight through, I’ll be damned if I don't get the satisfaction of delivering it in full.”

“Give it here, we do not know how the boar will react,” Felix, however, was not even attempting to keep his voice low, “Are you prepared to be crushed?”

“I am a warrior you soggy cat, I can handle it just fine.”

“ Soggy cat? ” Felix sputtered, surprised and infuriated. 

When Dimitri turned his head to glance out the window, he saw it was indeed raining. The warmer seasons brought a lot of rain, even in his usually quite snowy land.

“I am his advisor, the duty should fall to me and me alone,” Even Dedue had joined on the stupid bickering. 

He was beginning to grow tired of their tomfoolery.

“I didn't see you flying here in the middle of a storm!”

“Yes, because I have more sense than that.”

Ingrid gasped, followed by a grunt from Dedue. She probably whacked him with the butt of her lace or something.

“Come now, since you all are fighting, perhaps we should just let the charming one deliver it?” Sylvain purred, Dimitri could almost picture the way he was trying to keep them from actually starting a fight in the hall.

“Hm, perhaps you are right Sylvain,” Ingrid hummed, then added, “Too bad Mercedes or Annette aren't here!”

“Ouch.”

They continued to bicker, Dimitri was so close to taking a page out of his Beloved's book and throwing a knife at the door. 

However, it opened, and closed. The bickering still continued, oddly enough. Dimitri sat up and massaged the bridge of his nose, surprised to see none other than Ashe standing at the foot of his bed. Oddly, he didn't seem sheepish or apologetic at all, in fact, he seemed… Excited.

Dimitri swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, Ashe handed him a scroll.

Odd. There was no sender, no recipient.

He carefully untied the seal and unfurled the paper, the words there caused his heart to jump into his throat.

‘I have returned.’

Dimitri didn't need to know who sent it, he recognized the lettering alone. 

Byleth was back. 

He was back, he was alive!  

Joy blossomed in his chest as a flower did in spring. He couldn't contain his excitement, he flung open the door, revealing Ingrid and Felix mere moments away from a fistfight. They paused and looked at him, confusion on their faces.

“Byleth is back! Dedue, pack at once, we leave as soon as we are able.”

Ingrid shoved Felix away from her, “How- I have…. Where's the letter!?”

Ashe must have made his presence known behind him, as Ingrid’s face flushed with rage, “Oh you little- I am going to throttle you, Ashe!”

Dedue lifted her up under her arms, and held her a good foot from the ground as she sputtered and hissed. Ashe sounded like he was going to die from laughing so hard, Dimitri couldn't help but giggle a bit himself. He was so, so very happy. 

They departed for Garreg Mach the next morning. 

Because traveling during a storm was bad for his health, apparently. Still, he trusted Dedue’s judgement, and willed himself to at least sleep a little before they left.

He didn't, but he had tried.

Frankly, Dedue was the only thing keeping him from making the journey on horseback in one trip. 

“Just because Ingrid foolishly did, does not mean I will allow you to follow her example, Your Majesty.”

Dimitri relented, but still couldn't wait. His whole body buzzed, as if his very being longed for Byleth’s presence. Longed to see the man for himself, to see he had recovered, to see him healthy again.

They reached the Monastery in three days. 

Word must have been sent ahead, as the moment he crossed the drawbridge into the market, he was met with a sight that filled him with immeasurable relief. Byleth stood on top of the stairs, he was dressed in his usual black attire, skin warm and pink. No bags were under his eyes, he looked… Healthy.

Dimitri would never deny not being the most graceful of men, but the way he all but fell from Juniper Axe’s back was wholly unflattering of a king. Still, it was copper in the gold of Byleth’s presence.

He did not run to the stairs, but he definitely took long strides, and Byleth trotted down the stairs to meet him halfway. 

He was there, right in front of him. He was alive, healthy as far as Dimitri could tell, and he was smiling. The little smile he only did when genuinely happy, one Dimitri would have torn the sky asunder for, time and time again if he could see it just once a day.

Dimitri froze when they at last reached each other. He didn't know why, he was so overwhelmed with emotions it was as if he had forgotten how to speak, how to move. Byleth’s hand was comfortably warm when it reached for his own, their fingers intertwined. The searing heat had disappeared.

“Dimitri, hello.”

His simple, familiar words broke Dimitri’s trance, and he pulled the man close to him with a swing of his arms. He peppered small, gentle, kisses all over his face. The man in his embrace laughed, actually laughed, and Dimitri had to pull back to see the way his eyes scrunched at the edges when he smiled wholeheartedly. 

He was so stupidly in love with Byleth.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Dimitri murmured into the crook of Byleth’s neck, he smelled of pine, smoke, and home.

“As have I.”

He felt the movement of his cape as Byleth rubbed soothing circles in his back. Dimitri wished he could feel them properly, without his armor in the way, but knowing the man was doing something so gentle soothed him just the same.

Dimitri pulled back when a throat cleared.

He looked up to find Seteth, Flayn and… And Lady Rhea, all standing upon the stairs as well. Had they been there the whole time?

Dimitri awkwardly untangled himself from Byleth, and bowed to the three, “Welcome back, I am most pleased to see you all unharmed and in good health.”

Lady Rhea covered a laugh with her hand, “Oh come now, no need to be so formal. You are family. Come, let us get you all settled in yes?”

“Ah. Yes,” Dimitri stumbled out, “I… Thank you for bringing Byleth back safely.”

Seteth snorted, “He was never in any danger.”

When everything had settled, Seteth all but pushed the two of them to the third floor so they could be alone together. Dimitri was far from complaining.

Byleth was still staying in the room he had been since he had taken over as Archbishop. He wondered where Lady Rhea stayed now, was she in the rooms where Seteth and Flayn slept now? Somewhere else entirely? He hardly had a chance to speak to her, and welcome her back from wherever she had disappeared to after they had rescued her.

Perhaps she slept too, as Byleth did when he fell from that cliff. 

The door closed behind him, and Dimitri let out a grunt when he was pushed back against it, and Byleth pressed his lips to his own. Dimitri hummed and wrapped his arms around his Beloved’s waist, warmth settled in his belly as their kiss deepened. His fingers trailed down to his hips, Dimitri hooked his hands beneath Byleth’s thighs and lifted him.

Byleth’s kisses stopped, he glanced down between them, then at the floor no longer beneath his feet. Dimitri hesitated, had he gone too far? 

“Does this make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Byleth responded, “It is odd, though. You pick me up as if I weigh nothing.”

Dimitri shugged, “Even without the Blaiddyd strength, I could still lift you. You are not heavy.”

“Hm, perhaps Seteth grows weak in his old age.”

The sputtering laugh that escaped Dimitri was ugly and loud, but the way Byleth looked at him, as if he had brought the stars and delivered them to him directly, he didn't feel ashamed. He noticed then, a bit belatedly, that he could see Byleth’s ears peeking out from his light hair.

They were pointed, like the people in the book.

“Where did you go? Seteth had been vague when he took you.”

Byleth stretched and settled himself against Dimitri’s chest, laying upon him as a cat basking up sunlight.

“A forest somewhere, I don't really know where. We met Rhea there after a few days. She came from a village, but I couldn't go there yet. Too dangerous.”

Dimiri leaned back against the door, and adjusted his hold on Byleth, so it was something more akin to an embrace.

“Sothis and I are one, now, sort of. My… Heart still doesn't beat. I do not know why.”

It mattered little to Dimitri, in truth. Even if his Beloved’s heart never beat, he would love him as he did now. He pressed a kiss to his cheek, and hoped the gesture was reassuring.

“What happened?”

“I became a dragon,” Byleth spoke such words as if he were discussing tea or what he ate. 

We had some venison, took a stroll through a forest... I became a dragon.

Yeah, fine, simple enough.

Dimitri didn't let his grip falter on Byleth despite his shock. Sure Flayn had mentioned the ‘shift’ but he didn't really process it. Not until now, spoken so casually.

“A dragon, right. ”

Byleth chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that soothed his fear.

“What do you know of Nabeteans?”

Dimitri did not feel as if he were ready for this, certainly not while holding Byleth. He really didn't want to drop or hurt the man if he startled from the knowledge he undoubtedly would be receiving. So, he eased Byleth back onto the floor, and sat on the foot of the bed.

“Nothing, frankly. I remember vaguely hearing about them, but they were spoken as if they were some mythical race that never existed.”

Byleth pursed his lips, and Dimitri could not tell if he was thinking, or irritated Dimitri had put him down. Regardless, he sat beside Dimitri, and stared at the ground.

“Nabeteans were a race of dragons, that could take human form. The first Nabeteans were Sothis, and the saints.”

Dimitri nodded.

“I… Do not have all the details, Seteth and Rhea have been arguing off and on for the last few nights. However, I do know that I am, at least in part, one of them. As are they. That is why Seteth and Flayn do not age as humans do, neither does Rhea.”

“Neither will you,” Dimitri murmured. 

Byleth tensed beside him, he grabbed the man’s hand before he had any ideas, and squeezed it gently, “Do not fret, Seteth told me everything. Or, at least a lot. It does not matter to me if you never age in my lifetime, having you beside me is more than enough.”

The man nodded, his shoulders relaxed, and continued, “A war happened, and a human, or, a group of humans, slaughtered them. Very few still live, that is why Seteth and Flayn must keep the truth of what they are secret. If their identities were revealed, there is a chance that those people would try to finish what was started.”

Dimitri’s grip on Byleth tightened. He would not allow anyone to touch a hair on Byleth’s, or any one else’s head. He would protect them with all he had.

“Crest stones are the hearts of the Nabeteans slain then.”

Oh.

“Hero relic’s are crafted from their bodies.”

Oh.

Dimitri felt sick. This whole time, he had been brandishing Areadbhar as just some weapon, the way it twitched occasionally, the way the stone shone in tune to his emotions… He was using a being, or what once was a living being, as a weapon. 

He had desecrated the dead’s body by using it for such heinous crimes.

Dimitri covered his mouth, he… He was going to be sick.

Byleth pulled him close, and pulled his head to rest upon his shoulder. The metal of his armor was uncomfortable, but knowing it belonged to Byleth allowed him to breathe and count. 

“The Sword of the Creator…?”

“Sothis’, or well, my spine.”

Dimitri eyed the weapon where it sat upon Byleth’s desk, then closed his eye to rest fully against his Beloved’s shoulder. Warm fingers came and rubbed at his skull. The fingers were the same, yet, different in a way Dimitri could not ascertain. They seemed sharper, as if ended in talons, no longer simple nails.

Byleth was a dragon.

A being of immense strength, creatures that were spoken of only in the highest regard and honour. Messengers of the Goddess herself. Beasts that could crack open the sky and earth alike, and reshape it with their breath.

Dimitri realized then, he would have to hunt a moose for his Beloved.

No other animal could possibly be worthy.

Chapter Text

“Byleth pleaaase, just one bite.”

“No.”

Flayn pouted, and rested her chin on the dining table. No one other than cooks and the odd monk or mage were in the room, it was late, and most of the dinner rush had left already to tend to their nightly duties.

Dimitri felt wildly out of place among the dragon people surrounding him.

In a flash, Flayn brandished her fork as a weapon, and dove across the table, eager to take the last bite of fish from Byleth’s plate. She was met with a spoon, blocking her futile attempt. Her eyes narrowed, and the two stared each other down.

“Children, behave, ” Seteth massaged his temples, “Flayn, you can get a second helping from the cook.”

She huffed, but retreated back to sit on her seat properly. 

Byleth had yet to finish the fish, instead poking around the vegetables that accompanied the meat, and Dimitri got the sneaking suspicion he was teasing her. 

Lady Rhea took pity on Flayn, and slid half of her meal onto her plate, “Here, you can finish mine.”

“Thank you!” Flayn chirped, and dove into the fish like a woman possessed.

It was odd.

Sitting around them felt familiar, in the strangest way. He remembered dining with his childhood friends far before the war, or the Tragedy of Duscur. They would tease each other and laugh and occasionally be scolded by a parent when the ribbing went too far.

Dimitri was part of a family again, and… He wasn't sure how to process it.

A gentle tap on his arm drew his attention to Byleth, he held the fork with the last bit of fish up to him. 

“Eat.”

Dimitri snorted, but allowed Byleth to feed him the rest of his fish, much to Flayn’s horror.

“You weren't even going to finish it!” She gasped, and smacked her palms on the table, “You are so mean!”

Byleth did not respond, only stared at her in complete silence as he took his now empty fork from Dimitri’s mouth. Though he could have sworn there was a ghost of a smug grin on his face. 

The last day and a half had been an absolute nightmare of information. Dimitri had grown nearly numb to it all by now, Seteth was Flayn’s father, Rhea was Seteth’s sister, they all were the saints that people worshipped, and of course, were dragons. 

Dimitri’s head pounded as he tried to process the information.

Dimitri wasn't sure why he was told all that, it hardly seemed necessary. Certainly did not pertain to Byleth much, other than he and Flayn being cousins, and Seteth and Rhea being his uncle and grandmother respectively. Sort of. There were some complications with Byleth’s relationship to Rhea, ones he had not been told of yet. 

He did not know if he would ever be told, but it mattered little really.

Perhaps they tossed the information at him because they had lived in secrecy for so long. Someone could be told, they could trust someone again. Dimitri could not imagine what it must have been like, to hide themselves as if their very natures were a dirty secret. To pray no one would find out, that no one would desecrate their bodies as what had happened to others of their kind.

He wondered what disgusting ritual would have had to have been performed to create such powerful weapons. He also did not want to know.

Did Rhea look upon the holy relics in disdain and disgust? Or did she truely revere them, as the church did? They were the last remains of some of her people.

Dimitri was thankful for their trust all the same, but also wished he had remained ignorant, in a way. He could no longer look at his lance in anything other than overwhelming guilt and sorrow. It had been vile, to use the weapon as he did. Unforgivable, really.

He wondered if the lance still held some form of consciousness.

Dimitri prayed it didn't.

When alone, truly alone with him. They acted so differently than he had grown to see them. 

Rhea was cheeky, and teased her brother over the smallest of things. Seteth was a doting father to Flayn, if not a bit overbearing, and often argued with Rhea over seemingly anything. 

Flayn… Acted the same, much to Dimitri’s relief.

Yet, the moment someone else entered the equation, their masks were on, and they were professional as ever. 

It was giving Dimitri whiplash.

Despite the power Byleth had, and the newly pointed ears, he remained just as he ever had. Dimitri clung to that, as he desperately processed and tried to come to terms with all the information dumped upon his shoulders. 

And the weight such words carried.

He could not remain in the Monastery forever, he had to return to his people eventually.

Dimitri had given himself three days before he needed to return. To his absolute delight, Byleth asked if he could accompany him back. 

“Oh I know pretty Lady,” Sylvain cooed, “You’ve been running around so much for me. Don't worry sweet thing, I’ll be sure to pamper you as you deserve when we get back.”

The black mare thumped her head against Sylvain's side, likely looking for another treat. He produced some oats from a leather satchel he had tied around his waist. She snorted and eagerly ate the food from Sylavin’s glove.

“I think he loves that horse more than he does me,” Felix scoffed from his place beside Dimitri, holding saddlebags as Dimitri adjusted the straps of Juniper Axe’s saddle.

“Sorry Felix, my heart only belongs to Lady,” He responded and pressed a kiss between the mare’s eyes. 

“And here I thought we had something special,” Felix drawled in response, then handed over the bags when Dimitri grabbed them. 

Dimitri chuckled, and tossed the leather pouches over Juniper Axe’s back, once they were secure, he stepped back and patted his own horse’s neck. Juniper Axe dug his hoof into the ground and snorted, Dimirti wasn't sure if that was a good reaction or not. Still, the gelding lowered his head and sniffed at Dimitri’s palms.

“I don't have a carrot,” Dimitri apologized, Juniper Axe snorted again and lifted his head at the approach of Byleth and Dagur.

Dagur had her head hunkered down, and marched like a wyvern on a mission. As they approached, her steps slowed, and she maintained a healthy distance from Felix and Sylvain. Not aggressive, as far as Dimitri could tell, but certainly wary.

Byleth held no such regard as he approached them and butted his head against Dimitri’s arm in a familiar greeting. 

“How come you don't headbutt me when you see me, Felix?”

“I don't love you like that.”

Sylvain laughed, and hopped upon Lady’s back, and held his arm out for Felix to pull himself up behind him on the horse. When the man was settled, Sylvain turned his head just enough to plant a needlessly loud, wet, kiss to Felix’s cheek. 

He sputtered and shoved Sylvain away, “Gross!”

Dimitri chuckled and mounted his own steed as they waited for Dedue. He had been gathering things they’d need for their journey back. When he returned, they finished packing up and left Garreg Mach’s walls. 

It had been far too long since he had the time to just… Be around his friends. They were in no real rush to return, their pace idle and relaxed. He had missed them, missed this.  

Byleth flew ahead to scout for a safe place for them to set up camp when Felix spoke, “So, is no one going to mention the ears?”

Dimitri coughed into his fist, “Um, what ears?”

Dedue, Sylvain and Felix all leveled him with the same unimpressed stare. 

“He ripped open a hole in the sky and his hair magically changed color,” Dimitri defended, his cheeks flushed, “Are you really that surprised something else changed too?”

“No,” Sylvain hummed, “But how defensive you are over it is damn interesting.”

Ah. Shit.

“So there is a reason, and you know it,” Felix pressed, his eyes narrowed at him in a familiar threat, “You better not be keeping fucking secrets, boar.”

Dedue rode his horse between Felix’s harsh gaze and Dimitri, “Enough. If his Majesty is keeping secrets, they are surely for a good reason.”

Felix snarled, his tone lowered into one Dimitri recognized as genuine anger, “He's not the only one that cares about Byleth. If something is wrong, we deserve to know! Between this, suddenly leaving Enbarr, and just… Vanishing for nearly four months! I am not stupid, none of us are!”

Dimitri could see the way Dedue faltered at that, and honestly, Felix wasn't wrong. It would be foolish not to be concerned for Byleth, after everything that happened. He knew most of what was happening, and he still worried for him.

“You are right, Felix.”

Dedue pulled his horse back enough that Dimitri could meet Felix’s irritated gaze.

“There… Is a lot about him that I am only just learning. However, please trust me in that I would not be keeping silent if I did not have to. If… If knowledge about him gets out, it would put lives at risk and I - I do not want to be responsible for any more heinous violence.”

Felix stared at him, then, after a moment of scrutiny, relaxed against Sylvain, “I believe you. But if there comes a time when his life is in danger, you better not keep us in the dark.”

Dimitri nodded firmly, that, he could agree on. 

Dagur trilled as she and Byleth returned, they landed and Byleth gestured toward a valley, “I found a safe clearing, this way.”

They followed after him loyally, as they always have, and always would.

With the fire set up, and furs laid out to sleep upon, Dimitri allowed himself to sit, relax, and watch Byleth.

It was fascinating, the new ears. They moved, actually moved. They’d rise when he heard something, or was pleased, and lowered when he grew irritated. Dimitri wondered if Byleth himself was aware how blatantly they displayed his emotions. An ear would swivel ever so slightly when he heard a noise at the edge of camp, or if one them strayed too far from the fire.

He was absolutely enamoured, as were his friends, it seemed.

Sylvain, being who he is, made the most obvious attempts at getting the ears to move. He’d creep to the edge of camp, and the three of them would watch in awe as the ear followed him, even when not looking at them, Byleth seemed to always be watching out for them.

He couldn't help but be flattered, that whenever he spoke, Byleth’s ears would twitch up. Just a little, but it was noticeable and warmed his heart.

Dimitri wondered, then, since Byleth was related to Seteth and Flayn, why their ears were not pointed. Or were they? He had never seen their ears, now that he considered it. Except on the night he had brought Byleth to them, and Flayn’s hair was braided back.

Yet in his panic, he did not take note of whether or not her ears were like Byleth’s.

Perhap he could ask the next time he saw her.

There was a shout, followed shortly by a yelp and a thunk. Byleth had not moved from his place beside the fire, so Dimitri did not worry, though did look over their camp to find the source.

Felix was standing with his boot in his hand, and Sylvain was more or less in fetal position, laughing. Ah, Sylvain did something crass again, probably. He scooted a bit closer to Byleth’s side, his ear swiveled, then perked when he turned his head to face him.

“We should probably get some sleep,” He urged. Byleth closed his eyes and hummed, then rested his head on Dimitri’s shoulder.

He chuckled, “No on me, at least, not while sitting up. Not good for either of our backs.”

Byleth lifted his head for Dimitri to move, then followed after him as he retreated to his sleeping spot for the night. When he laid down, Byleth all but collapsed beside him, and rested his cheek over Dimitri’s heart. He did not wear his armor, it had been packed away, though through the thick leather of his vest, and the shirt beneath, he wondered if Byleth could still hear it hammer against his ribs.

“If I hear moaning tonight I’m slitting your throat, Boar.”

Dimitri sputtered, “ Felix! I would never- N-Not here- ”

Sylvain’s laughter cut him off, and he realized, a bit belatedly, he was being teased. He frowned and shot a glare over Byleth’s head to the two men chuckling to each other. Felix raised a choice finger in response, and Dimitri let his head thump back against the fur with a roll of his eye.

Dimitri had considered pulling a blanket up and over he and Byleth, but frankly, between the warmth from the fire, and the comforting heat Byleth exuded, he found himself quite content without one. 

Instead, he took to gazing at the stars. 

They were beautiful, a crescent moon shone above them. Dimitri remembered his father taught him about the stars, when he was young. He had found it terribly boring at the time, and only listened to the sound of his voice to fall asleep, rather than the words he spoke.

Dimitri wished he had paid better attention now.

He knew roughly, of constellations. Knew some stars could be strung together to form a shape, and that shape would have a story. Yet, anything past that, he did not know. Perhaps he could see if his castle’s library had anything on astrology. He’d like to learn at least some of the constellations his father had told him of, when he was a mere child.

Dedue knocked some of the logs from their fire over, dimming the flames to a gentle glow. 

A hush settled over the group as they tucked in to sleep for the night. Byleth nudged him onto his side, and wrapped his arms around his ribs, burying his face into the back of his neck. He could feel each breath he took against his back, slow and even. Dimitri interlaced their fingers, and lulled himself to sleep counting Byleth’s steady inhales and exhales.

Fhirdiad was a beautiful city.

Even blanketed in mist from the recent rains, the stone buildings stood strong against the sky. Those that lived there were a hardy bunch, used to the harsh climate of the mountains, yet, he knew luxuries were bountiful, hidden behind the stone and wood. 

It didn't have the same attention to architectural detail that Enbarr did, their buildings were built to withstand the harsh winters of Faerghus. Still, there was something Dimitri found lovely in their strong simplicity.

Within the next month or so, warmth would leave the region, and blanket it in snow and ice once more. People enjoyed the rainy seasons while they could.

Byleth slid from Dagur’s back, and held the reigns near her mouth, keeping her head down and beside his shoulder. Perhaps he would have a second wyvern stable further toward the edge of the city, so traveling through the heart of it wouldn't be such a hassle for those with more touchy wyverns.

People flooded the streets as they walked, celebrating his return, as usual. He ducked his head, still quite unused to being cherished so. He liked it, of course, but it could be overwhelming. 

Dagur snorted, smoke billowed from her nostrils, but she made no aggressive movements. Dimitri trusted Byleth as he trusted Dagur, neither were fond of the attention, but he knew they’d never lash out and hurt someone. Plus, people kept a respectful distance from him, as their King, and Dimitri hoped that helped.

Some advisors met him on the stairs that led up to his castle’s gates, Byleth had already vanished, likely settling Dagur down in the stables. 

A gangly man, Ivan, stepped to meet him as a stablehand took Juniper Axe once he dismounted him.

“Ah, you’ve returned. Welcome back, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you, Ivan. Has there been any news while I was gone?”

“Nothing pressing, Sire, though you have received more letters regarding the reconstruction of… Duscur. ”

Dimitri hated the way the man sneered the word, as if even speaking of the land in itself were a curse. He leveled the man with a cold stare, “Good, I will see to it that I write back as soon as I am able.”

“Your Majesty, if I may-”

“You may not, ” Dimitri stepped past him, Dedue on his heels, “I have told you the people of Duscur were innocent, helping them rebuild is the least we can do to make amends.”

The man bowed, and that was that. It was not the end of his uphill struggle to get his people to help the reconstruction of Duscur, but it was laid to rest for now. Dedue had been in contact with survivors of the slaughter, and they were cautiously willing to allow him to help. 

However, who he sent to assist them would have to be chosen very, very carefully. He could not send people who did not believe Duscur was undeserving of their help. However, people were stubborn, and even in the face of the truth, many still clung to the beliefs they had before. 

It was a pain in the ass.

He wondered if the construction company in Enbarr could afford to send some of their people north, to assist Duscur. He’d write Caspar about it later, for now, he would wait for his friends to catch up.

Sylvain and Felix arrived in the throne room Dimitri had retreated to, it was a bit faster than he had expected, usually Lady took a bit longer to settle than that.

“You two are more than welcome to stay for dinner,” Dimitri offered, but Sylvain held up a hand and shook his head.

“‘Fraid not, can't today. We have to return to our lands, it's been a while since we’ve been there. I’ve got my own marriage proposals to deny, or, ignore,” Sylvain snorted, “You’d think people would get the hint.”

He understood Sylvain’s irritation, he shared it himself, and nodded.

He wondered if Felix received them from time to time, if he did, he never spoke of them. Felix was among the last of his line, he wondered what he would do. Dimitri found himself with the same pondry, he was the last holder of the Blaiddyd crest, would the line die with him?

He certainly had no desire to bed some woman for the off chance of her producing a child with a crest, much less bedding anyone than Byleth, period.

Perhaps he could find another way to choose an heir? One that did not rely on crests?

Dimitri decided it was a topic to consider another time, instead, he bid his friends farewell, and waited for his Beloved to return.

Just as Dimitri considered leaving the room to search for him, Byleth appeared. He seemed irritated, given the way his lips pressed together to form a thin line. What had happened?

He closed the distance between them and patted his shoulder, “Everything well?”

“Your stable hands are foolish,” He stated, “Or perhaps the one that approached me was unfamiliar with wyverns.”

Dimitri tilted his head, “We rarely get Wyverns here, they do not seem to favor the cold much.”

Byleth hummed, and seemed to take that as a good enough response, given he said no more on the matter. Silence settled between them, and Dedue ushered them from the throne room, “Come, let us eat.”

Dimitri did not realize how hungry he was until then. Traveling rations were fine and all, most food tasted the same to him anyway, but he found meals at the castle filled him up far better than bread and jerky.

Byleth’s steps lengthened as they approached the dining hall, Dimitri chuckled, he supposed he was not the only one hungry.

With dinner finished, and their bellies full, Dedue walked them back to Dimitri’s room.

“Professor,” Dedue’s voice broke the silence, “The ears are new.”

The ears twitched at their mention, and Byleth nodded, “They are.”

“Where did they come from?”

Dimitri was starting to panic.

“I am a dragon, this is normal among my kind, I guess.”

Dimitri was absolutely panicking. Byleth couldn't say that, he couldn't just announce what he was! What if someone overheard? Dimitri trusted Dedue with his life, hell, he trusted him with Byleth’s life, but what if there were others that could hear? What if learning of Byleth’s nature put Dedue in danger?

Dedue laughed, “Ah, I see.”

Relief washed over Dimitri like a wave, of course. Of course it would sound ridiculous to anyone, even Dedue, that Byleth was a dragon. 

Still, a part of him was sad Dedue did not believe Byleth. Someone to confide in, another party to talk to, to express his worries to, would have been nice. Still, he would rather have Dedue not believe him, than put either of their lives in danger.

Byleth did not seem bothered that Dedue had brushed him off. Perhaps he had been expecting that reaction?

“Can you fly?” Dedue inquired, as they started their climb up the stairs.

“Yes. Poorly right now, but yes.”

Wait.

Dimitri’s heart began to thunder in his chest, did Dedue believe him after all? How could he seem so unbothered by such an astounding truth? Even Dimitri did not take all that was happening to Byleth as easily as Dedue did.

“Hm, so you have wings, in your other form?”

“Yes, four,” Byleth responded, “it is quite difficult to learn how to use so many new limbs at once.”

Dedue nodded solemnly, as if he understood first hand what it was like.

The man glanced over his shoulder at Dimitri, and raised a brow. He wondered if his panic was showing on his face.

“I will not speak a word of this to anyone, Dimitri,” His voice held a level of hurt that stabbed Dimitri in the chest.

“No, no. That is not it, Dedue,” He was quick to assure, “I just… You seem so unimpressed. And… I worry others could hear.”

“No one else is nearby,” Byleth stated, Dimitri supposed those ears were more than just for show.

Dedue explained, “There were people further north in my homeland that were… Not unlike Byleth. They had incredible power and could turn into impossible things. My sister had once befriended one of their children.”

A cynical side of Dimitri wondered where they were when Duscur was attacked.

“They were nomadic,” He continued, as if reading Dimitri’s thoughts, “They did not remain in one place long. When they passed through Duscur from time to time, my sister would always meet up with that child. They were good friends. An odd people, but, people all the same.”

Byleth brushed his shoulder against Dedue’s arm. He seemed bewildered by the action, though pleased all the same. Perhaps he understood what Byleth was silently trying to convey, or perhaps he was just happy Byleth trusted him enough with his nature.

So there were other beings that were not human? Were the ones Dedue spoke also Nabeteans? Or were these incredible beings just… Walking among them this whole time? Dimitri wasn't sure he wanted the answer to any of those questions.

Dedue bid them goodnight as they passed Dimitri’s door, and left them to head further down the hall and stairs to where his room was. 

Dimitri opened the door and closed it once he and Byleth were in the room. It was dark, the sun barely seen over the horizon, casting his room in a warm glow. Traveling was exhausting, all the emotions he’s had the last week have been exhausting. 

He was ready to just lay in bed and cuddle his Beloved for the rest of the night, paperwork be damned, he’d do it tomorrow.

Byleth seemed to have a similar plan, as he was already half out of his shirt by the time Dimitri locked the door. He chuckled as Byleth’s head popped free, his light hair disheveled from it’s tussle with the heavy cotton he wore. Dimitri unbuttoned his vest and draped it over the back of his chair, then walked up behind Byleth, waited a moment, then wrapped his arms around the man’s stomach.

He didn't want to startle him again.

Byleth hummed and kissed the side of his head he could reach with Dimitri’s face buried in his neck. He was warm, but not uncomfortably so. Akin to the perfect warmth of a sauna or bath, just hot enough to be comforting, but not to burn.

“Why did you tell Dedue?” Dimitri murmured against his skin.

“Why wouldn't I?” Byleth responded, and tossed his shirt aside, “I trust him, as I trust all of you. Seteth has lived in fear for a very long time, so he is overly cautious. If they ask, I will tell them. If not, I won't.”

Dimitri considered his words, then inquired, “You are not worried about the danger it might cause to your people?”

“You, the rest of the lions, my students, are my people. Not some race of dragons I never knew about until now. I will not recklessly endanger them, but you and my former students are who I’d consider mine.”

It must be hard, Dimitri imagined, to find out you weren't human so suddenly. To learn he was actually part of an ancient race long considered a myth. Dimitri lifted his head to kiss Byleth’s cheek, “Fair enough.”

“It… Doesn't bother you?”

Dimitri pulled back and gently urged Byleth to turn and face him, “What doesn't bother me?”

“That I’m… This. ”

“ You? Why would that bother me? I’ve adored you just as you are for years, you know that.”

“No- that I’m… I am not human.”

Ah. 

Dimitri brought his hands up to cradle Byleth’s face, his eyebrows were pinched, eyes trained on the ground rather than meeting his own. He stroked his thumb along his cheek, “Byleth, look at me.”

After a pregnant pause, he did.

“I will tell you what I’ve told Seteth. I do not care who or what you are, to me, you will always be my dearest Byleth. Be it a dragon, a god, or something else entirely, I love you, and all that comes with that. I promise.”

Dimitri could have sworn Byleth’s eyes water before he was pulled down to meet his lips.

His hands moved from Byleth’s face to his waist, thumbs rubbing circles on the soft skin there. The man took a step closer, and Dimitri wasted no time in lifting him again. He leaned back just enough so their chests could touch, and Byleth could lean against him fully.

Dimitri used his knee as support to lower Byleth down onto the blankets of his bed. He kicked off his boots and all but jumped on top of him. His kisses trailed down from his lips to his neck, then collarbone. Byleth’s breath hitched when he reached his chest.

“Byleth,” Dimitri paused, and glanced up at the man prone beneath him, “You alright?”

“Mm.”

“Words.”

Byleth snorted, “Yes, I am fine.”

Dimitri nodded, then, “Tell me if I do something that makes you uncomfortable, or you want to stop, ok?”

“Mhm.”

“Byleth, please.”

“Yes, yes. Fine, I will.”

He froze when a hand moved to his face, fingers brushed against the edge of his eyepatch. Dimitri ducked his head and pulled back, much to Byleth’s visible confusion.

“Does it still hurt?” Byleth asked, his voice soft and… sad.

“Not usually,” He explained, “But… It is hideous.”

Byleth grabbed Dimitri’s hand and placed it on his chest, over the scar that spanned where his heart would have been.

“So is this.”

Dimitri shook his head, “This was not done by your hand, you didn't- You had no control over this.”

“It shows I stole the life of another,” Byleth responded.

“You didn't steal anything, Byleth,” Dimitri snapped, and lowered himself to kiss the gnarled starburst scar, “From my understanding, your mother chose to save you.”

Byleth’s hand moved to his eyepatch again, “This shows you survived the demons plaguing you.”

“I gave in to them, I tried- I thought if I…” 

“You lived.”

Dimitri rested his hand over Byleth’s, he had never taken the eyepatch off in his presence before. Not even when they were in the baths together, he didn't want to frighten or disgust Byleth with the sight of a mangled empty socket.

He pulled back, and untied the leather from the back of his head, and slowly peeled the patch off. His hands trembled as he pulled it off his face, he clung onto it, unsure what to say or how to behave when such fragility coursed through him. Byleth scooted back and sat up, he leaned close and placed a ghost of a kiss over the scar, just beneath the hole his eye once resided in.

“It… doesn't disgust you?”

“No.”

Dimitri rested his hand over the scar on Byleth’s chest, the skin was puckered and rough there. He wondered if the scar ever hurt. 

Byleth tugged at his shirt, and Dimitri was quick to remove it. His body paled in comparison to the hideous socket his eye had once been in. He certainly did not feel comfortable as he was, yet… He knew Byleth would never look down upon him for it. He was far too kind.

Dimitri nudged Byleth back again and kissed him with the fervor of a man possessed. He couldn’t find the words he needed to say, how thankful he was for him, how blessed he felt to have Byleth in his life. Perhaps he could take a page from his Beloved’s book, and show him.

His kisses trailed down to his chest, and pressed the flat of his tongue over Byleth’s nipple. The softest noise escaped Byleth’s mouth, when he looked up, Byleth stared down at him with half-lidded eyes, and a blush dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

He was incredible.

Dimitri’s hands moved down to lift Byleth’s legs just enough for him to move forward and settle himself between his thighs, letting Byleth rest his own upon him. He trailed his kisses further down Byleth’s rib cage, abs, then stomach. When he reached the hem of Byleth’s pants, he stopped. 

His fingers rested on the edge of the fabric, and he looked up to Byleth, who nodded. Dimitri scooted back and slowly pulled the pants from his lover’s body. There was a deep scar along Byleth’s knee, one he did not recall seeing before. Not that he, admittedly, gave himself the luxury of gazing over Byleth’s nude form prior to this.

He traced over the scar, it seemed old, yet the wound that could have caused such a scar had to have been deep.

“Before I met you, my father and I were fighting some thieves. I was still young, and had not yet learned how to use my entire body for fighting. I was about to kill a man, but he used his leg and kicked my knee, shattering it. One of the mercenaries carried me to a village nearby and I had surgery to save my leg.”

Dimitri frowned, looking at the joint now, it seemed… Out of place. Slightly misshapen, as a nose might be after being broken. Healed, but not the same. He then recalled the armor he wore on that leg.

“That's why you wear the plate over your knee.”

“It is weak, so I have extra protection.”

“Does it still pain you?”

“When the weather changes or I do a lot of walking.”

Dimitri’s brow furrowed, “You are always walking and running around.”

“...Yes.”

He sighed and carefully maneuvered the leg up so he could press a kiss to the side of the scar, “You have to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Putting others before your own wellbeing.”

“I could say the same of you,” Byleth responded, a brow raised.

That was fair.

“We both need to work on that, huh?”

Byleth hummed and nodded.

Dimitri lowered Byleth’s leg to rest on his thigh, and gave himself a chance to actually look at Byleth. He was thin, but with every breath Dimitri could see the tightly corded muscle beneath his skin. It didn't seem his time as Archbishop changed him much, if any.

He wasn't wet as far as he could tell, but Dimitri couldn't blame the man. They would only just start, then get distracted by a more serious matter. Dimitri wondered if his racing mind irritated Byleth, though given the way the man seemed perfectly content to be sprawled beneath him, Dimitri assured himself that was not the case.

They wouldn’t have sex tonight, Dimitri didnt have any oil in his room, and he refused to cause Byleth any sort of discomfort. Still, he… Wanted to be intimate with Byleth, make the man feel good. Dimitri leaned down and pressed his lips against Byleth’s stomach, and peppered kisses down to the hair between his legs.

He took to kissing the inside of Byleth’s thighs, and ran his hands over the muscle in them. They twitched under his fingers, Dimitri wanted to map out every single one of Byleth’s sensitive areas. He wanted to know how to make the man come completely undone.

When he took the skin of Byleth’s inner thigh between his teeth, his breath hitched. Dimitri pressed his tongue over the indentions left behind by his teeth, and checked Byleth’s face for any signs of discomfort.

The man’s eyes were half closed, he had his fist up to his mouth, biting the knuckles, and the normally narrow pupils were blown wide enough that only a thin ring of green could be seen. 

Damn.

Dimiti lifted Byleth’s legs up and over his shoulders, careful of his bad knee, and ran his tongue over Byleth’s labia. His moan was muffled by his hand, and that simply would not do. 

He adjusted his grip on him and pulled the fist from his mouth, “No need to be silent, Beloved. We are the only ones that are on this floor.”

Even if someone passed through the hall, Dimitri could care less. He wanted to hear Byleth’s pleasure, he needed to know he was doing well. Anyone foolish enough to disturb them would have far more pressing matters than being scandalized by the King being intimate with his soon to be husband.

Such as him throwing the nearest weapon at them.

Well, no. He wouldn't do that, but he would be very, very, irritated. 

Byleth’s hand moved from his mouth to grip the pillow behind his head, the other rested on Dimitri’s thigh. There were a few tugs at his pants there, and while Dimitri understood the silent request, he dismissed it for the moment to focus on Byleth.

He licked a wet stripe over his cock, savoring the soft groan it got him. Admittedly, Dimitri was making it up as he went. He never had been intimate with someone before this, never wanted to be. Sure, he read up on sex, but all the books he found were purely for education and did little to explain the best ways of pleasuring one’s partner. Not to mention he had not exactly anticipated the anatomy before him. 

It far from bothered Dimitri, of course, but he felt woefully lost on how to pleasure his Beloved.

Byleth did not seem uncomfortable though, so he had to have been doing something right.

The tug on his pants grew a bit more impatient, and Dimitri chuckled, “Let me focus on you now, Beloved.”

Byleth snorted, but the pulling stopped.

Dimitri supported Byleth’s lower back with his hands, and nosed closer to continue dragging his tongue along him. Each time he passed over his cock, Byleth’s breath hitched, and he moaned. He turned his attention to it, and focused on alternating between licking and sucking the nub. His Beloved’s legs twitched on either side of his head, and he could feel the way his muscles tensed beneath his hands. 

The soft, barely audible, moans were music to Dimitri’s ears. 

He pulled back to check on Byleth, and the man whined. Actually whined. The sound went straight to Dimitri’s already hard dick.

Byleth’s head was half buried in the pillow, his eyes lidded and ears as red as his cheeks. Pride swelled in Dimitri’s gut at the sight. 

Dimitri lowered Byleth’s hips to rest on his lap, and leaned over him to peck at his lips. The man hummed into the kiss, and wrapped his arms around his neck, rolling his hips against Dimitri’s own. He groaned at the much desired pressure on his aching cock, though he moved his hands down to grab his hips, and keep Byleth from moving too much.

Dimitri wanted to savor this, and cumming in his pants would be an embarrassing way to end the night.

Byleth pulled back and leveled him with an unimpressed stare, Dimitri laughed. 

“Sorry my love, I just want this to last as long as it can.”

“I do not like being teased,” Byleth responded, then pulled Dimitri down again for another kiss. His lips left Dimitri’s and he nudged his head up to kiss along his neck.

Dimitri shuddered, pleasure licked through his veins at the feeling of Byleth dragging his lips, tongue, and teeth, along such a vulnerable place. One of his arms left Dimitri’s shoulder and moved down to brush the tips of his fingers over the tent in his pants. 

He buried his face in the crook of Byleth’s neck as the man pressed his thumb against the head of his dick. Dimitri couldn't help the way his hips rolled in response, as if his body was no longer under his own control, but rather Byleth’s. He nipped at Byleth’s throat as the man moved his legs to better wrap around Dimitri’s hips. 

Dimitri adjusted himself so he could grind against Byleth, much to both of their pleasure.

Their lips met again as Byleth tried to kick off Dimitri’s pants, the man chuckled and he pulled back just enough to pull his trousers down before slotting himself against Byleth again. Heavy breaths and moans hung in the air as their bodies pressed against each other. Dimitri eagerly swallowed every moan Byleth made, one hand on his hip, the other going between them to stroke Byleth’s dick.

The man’s back arched, nails dug into the tender flesh between his shoulder blades, teeth sunk into his shoulder. Dimitri shuddered, and continued his administrations, given by the way Byleth’s body rolled against him, and the wetness that met his fingers, the man had to be close. He kissed the side of Byleth’s jaw, and continued moving his hand as he did, Byleth ground against him, his stomach pressed against Dimitri’s cock. 

He was so warm, Dimitri buried his head in Byleth's neck.

“D-Dimitri, I…”

“Its alright my Love,” Dimitri panted, “Go ahead.”

The man’s body tensed, then fell limp. Dimitri pulled his hand away, and lifted himself enough to meet Byleth’s eyes. They were closed, his chest heaved with each breath he took, he was gorgeous. 

Dimitri leaned down and peppered kisses over Byleth’s face and jaw. 

“I love you,” He whispered.

Byleth hummed, his eyes open then, “I love you too, Dimitri.”

Before he could respond, in a surprising surge of strength, Byleth flipped him over, now perched on top of him. His cheeks were red, and breaths still came in shallow pants, yet the way he held Dimitri’s shoulders down showed no sign of exhaustion.

“Stay.”

Dimitri was helpless in the face of such a command, and did as told while Byleth slid down his body.

He jolted at the sudden warmth that enveloped his dick. Dimitri propped himself up on his elbows just in time to see Byleth swallow half of his cock. Holy shit.

The pleasure he felt was indescribable. Byleth’s mouth was wet, and warm. His tongue swirled around the tip of his cock as his head bobbed up and down. Pale hair brushed against his stomach.

It was embarrassing how quickly he felt himself descend into pleasure, his toes curled and he fought to keep his eyes open while he gripped the sheets. 

“Byleth, I-”

The man between his legs rubbed his thigh, and continued to work his cock. Dimitri’s body went numb, and he choked out a breathy moan as he came, Byleth still on his cock. The high he felt left behind only a hazy sense of satisfaction, Byleth left his cock and kissed his cheek in such a ridiculously chaste action given their activities.

Dimitri pulled Byleth down and fell back into his bed, his dearest Beloved content to rest on top of him.

The high left him only with exhaustion and joy. He loved Byleth so much.

He kissed Byleth’s head and settled himself down to rest, “Thank you, Byleth, I-”

Byleth grunted, his voice muffled by Dimitri’s chest, “If the next words you're planning to say are anything regarding me not having to do that, or that you didn't deserve it, I will throw you off the balcony.”

Dimitri laughed, “Alright, alright.”

“I love you,” Byleth murmured, relaxed and content in a way Dimitri had rarely heard before. It filled him with warmth.

“I love you too, Byleth, let us get some sleep. There are things to be done in the morning.”

When Dimitri awoke, he was cold. He reached out blindly to find Byleth’s heat, so he could curl against it, yet, no matter how far his hand patted, there was nobody sleeping beside him. Panic seized his mind. 

Warmth covered his hand and he relaxed again, the fear left his mind.

“I’m right here, relax.”

Dimitri puffed a sigh, and opened his eyes, Byleth sat on the edge of his bed, his hand rested upon his own. He wore the cloak Dimitri had let him borrow the last time he visited, and… Nothing else.

He pushed the inappropriate thoughts from his mind and sat up, “You alright?”

“Of course,” Byleth snorted, “Dedue stopped by with food and mail.”

“ Please tell me you didn't answer the door like that.”

“Ok. I did not answer the door like this.”

Dimitri groaned and rolled onto his stomach so he could bury his embarrassment in his pillow. Byleth pat his head and left the bed again, Dimitri turned his head to follow his lover’s movement to his desk where two plates of food waited, as well as more additions to the growing pile of letters he needed to deal with.

He really, really, did not want to.

“What do the letters say?”

Byleth shrugged and took a bite from his slice of bread, “Didn't open them, it's not my mail.”

“My mail is your mail, Byleth, I have nothing to hide.”

The man hummed, and grabbed the first unopened scroll and looked it over, “Ah, this one is about Duscur. Are you planning on going there soon?”

Dimitri nodded, “Yes, I promised their general I would help them rebuild. I have been considering asking if the construction company in Enbarr would be willing to lend a few hands.”

“I’m sure they would, they seemed to like you a lot.”

“You think so?”

Byleth turned to regard him with a raised brow, no words were spoken, but the silent stare he got spoke plenty. 

Dimitri chuckled, “Fair.”

“I’ll probably be gone for a few weeks,” Dimitri continued, “I have other business in the north to attend to.”

“Hm. Always knew you were going to run away with Dedue.”

Dimitri sat up in his panic, “What? N-no! It's not like that Beloved I-”

“I was joking,” Byleth stated, his tone as neutral and unassuming as usual, “Everyone knows how smitten he is with Ashe anyway.”

“You… do?”

He set the paper down and turned to face Dimitri fully, “Yes? He is not subtle.”

“Huh,” Dimitri mused, “I… I mean no offense, but I always thought you weren't quite in tune to such things.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well,” Dimitri flushed, “I… I had tried to romance you before the war, when you were still my professor, and then with the letter-”

“Dimitri, I was well aware of your feelings then. I did not act on them because I was your teacher, as for the letter…” He trailed off, his own cheeks flushing, “I am poor with words, and got advice from some… Questionable sources.”

Dimitri laughed, he rose from his bed and wrapped an arm around Byleth’s shoulders, pressed another kiss to the crown of his head, then grabbed his own slice of bread. Byleth rested his cheek against his arm, and they stood like that for some time until knocks were heard on the door.

“Your Majesty? Are you awake?”

Dimitri blushed again, “Y-Yes, I am now, Dedue. Do you need something?”

“Ah good. You have some visitors that are requesting your presence. I told them to wait until you were ready, so do take your time,” Dedue’s voice was humored, bordering upon teasing and despite the door still being closed, Dimitri buried his blush in Byleth’s neck, “Thank you, Dedue. I’ll be down shortly.”

There was a laugh, then the heavy thud of boots against stone and carpet disappeared. 

“You are embarrassed?”

Dimitri shook his head and kissed Byleth again, and again. The man gently pushed him back a bit, a warm smile rested upon his lips, “You do have duties to attend to, and you stink. ”

He scoffed, and stubbornly stole another kiss from Byleth before he pulled away fully.

“I suppose you are right, come, we should bathe and get dressed proper.”

Chapter Text

Duscur was cold, just as Faerghus was. 

A lot rockier, from what Dimitri could tell, but no less freezing. Though it seemed they did not even get the chance for warmer seasons, and had snow all year long. It was beautiful though, the pine trees were massive there.

Dimitri had opted to leave much of the negotiations and talking to Dedue, he knew the people better, and Dimitri trusted him. Thus leaving him with little to do at the moment other than look over the ruined city sprawled before him. 

The sight pained him.

Being there brought back memories Dimitri tried to forget. Maybe he should have taken Byleth up on his offer to accompany him. 

No, it was better that he didn't. 

While Byleth at his side would make this far easier, he needed to soothe without Byleth. The dependence he had on him was unhealthy, he knew, plus given how much of a wreck he became when Byleth left for only four months… He had a lot to work up toward. Byleth could be gone for a year or more at a time.

Dedue returned to his side with a scroll in hand.

“What is the consensus?”

“They have agreed for us to help, but not to send builders or any help from Fearghus itself. If the reconstruction goes well, Brilaen will formally open negotiations for a proper treadey.”

Dimitri nodded, “Sounds fair. I will get in contact with the construction workers from Enbarr then, and see if they can spare any, otherwise I’ll go to Lorenz and see who he may have available.”

“Very well, I will pass that on. Otherwise, we are free to leave.”

“So Brilaen wants us gone.”

“...Yes.”

Dimitri couldn't blame him, “Fair enough. We’ll leave immediately.”

“Ah… Your Majesty?”

Dimitri hesitated in his step, and turned to face Dedue, his voice bordered on apprehensive. Was something wrong?

“Yes?”

“If possible… I… Would like to stay here. Just for a little while. I can be of use here I am sure, and I-”

“Dedue.”

“Sorry, Your Majesty. Yes?”

“You can stay as long as you want,” Dimitri smiled, “You do not need to be so nervous asking such a thing, if you asked to remain here indefinitely, I’d allow it. You know that.”

“Yes, but… Do not be foolish, alright Dimitri? Make sure to eat and sleep.”

Dimitri snorted, “I am not a child.”

“No, but you forget to eat just as often as you forget to sleep at a reasonable hour. I will write letters frequently.”

It was odd, saying goodbye to Dedue. Of course, this was not a permanent thing, and he would not be surprised if Dedue returned within a month. Yet for years, Dedue was always at his side. It would definitely take some adjusting, but this was important to both him and Dimitri. 

Dedue deserved to be with his people for as long as he desired.

He was surprised when the man brought him in for a tight embrace. All of the hugs he had received were from those much smaller than him, to receive one from someone taller was… Odd. Yet the warmth was comforting, and he returned the gesture.

Perhaps it would be just as odd for Dedue.

He mounted Juniper Axe, and led the few soldiers that did accompany him back down the trail to Fhirdiad. They reached the capital in four and a half days.

“You’ve got a lot of mail today,” Ingrid hummed, and flipped through the scrolls he had presented her with. Some of business, others regarding extra help he would need with Byleth’s gift.

“If possible, I’d like the ones to the church and Mercedes be delivered as swiftly as possible. And do make sure Seteth knows the scroll is not to be seen by Byleth, I want to surprise him.”

“I’ll deliver that one myself then,” She laughed, “I can send out my fastest to deliver Mercedes’, she’ll get it in two days' time.”

“Make sure you aren't overworking anyone.”

Ingrid waved him off, “Please, I know what my people can and can not do. I’ll leave my best here to guard you while I am away.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“ Can you?” Ingrid raised a brow, “Dedue is not here, and we all know he is the only one keeping you on a decent schedule most days.”

She was right, still, the jib stung a little. 

“I can. I promised Dedue as such, and I do not break promises.”

She chuckled, but said no more on the subject, instead she bowed, “Very well, Your Majesty. I shall see to it that these are delivered swiftly. Should I wait for a response from Seteth before I return?”

“If you can spare the time, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

Ingrid nodded, twirled on the heel of her boot, and descended the stairs of his throne to leave him alone in a room far too big for one. With letters written, and preparations made, Dimitri would depart tomorrow to hunt a moose for his beloved.

In his mind, he knew exactly what he wanted the cloak to look like, yet he knew getting the final product to match his desire would be difficult at best. He’d need help, a lot of it. Still, he was determined. Byleth deserved the best, and Dimitri would strive to make his gift one Byleth would treasure.

He had anticipated about a week to find the animal, hunt it, and bring it back to be properly skinned. Of course, he’d have it’s meat cooked and everything taken from the creature. It’s body would be food, and perhaps he could use the antlers for something for Byleth. Otherwise he’d give it along with other bones to the weaponsmith.

The cloak would need a clasp, perhaps he could carve one from an antler?

That would be something for him to decide later, now, he figured he should probably eat and get an early rest. His people would be fine with him gone, he would only be absent for a week, though planned for two, just to be safe.

Dimitri rose before the sun, and had the stablehands ready Juniper Axe as he went to the weaponry to retrieve his lace. The chill that settled over the Faerghus was biting, one that would sink into a man’s bones and turn them to ice. Dimitri had long since built a tolerance for cold, but that far from made him immune.

The heavy fur cloak that brandished his shoulders kept most of the chill from his body.

He reached the stand he kept Areadbhar; though paused before his fingers actually reached the weapon. Dimitri had not been thinking, he just reached for the lace that had been by his side for years-

He shouldn't take it.

After all he had forced the weapon to do under his own skewed sense of justice. He couldn't wield it. He didn't deserve to. Perhaps… When he returned to Garreg Mach, he could return the weapon to the church. So it would never again be used for needless slaughter in the hands of evil.

As he pulled away, the lance hummed with energy.

Dimitri hesitated again. The fingers of the lance twitched and clacked together, creating a horribly grotesque rattling sound. He had never seen it move so much before. When he reached his hand out to grasp it, the noise quieted, and the previously charged air around it dissipated.

“Do… You want to come with me?” Dimitri felt foolish talking to a weapon, yet the way the fingers curled just enough to almost beacon him… How much sentience did the relics maintain?

Dimitri grabbed the weapon and strapped it to his back. It seemed to have settled, no longer thrumming as it had been. He had a lot of questions, and wasn't sure who could answer them. Lady Rhea, perhaps.

He did not plan on ever using the lance as a weapon again. So he grabbed a silver lance to hunt with instead. If Areadbhar wanted to come with then who was he to deny that of them? Was it a them? The weapon had once been a person, or, Nabatean, right? He wondered what kind of individual they once were, and he wondered who had slaughtered them.

So much did not make sense though. 

Blaiddyd was one of the ten elites, a hero. He had joined Nemesis in the fight to save Fódlan from evil, and was gifted with the relic by the goddess herself. Why would Sothis just… Give weapons crafted from her children’s bodies to people?

Nothing added up. Perhaps there was a reason Sothis would do such a thing, maybe she had a good cause? 

Dimitri had many questions, with none around to answer them.

Dimitri was gone before the sun fully rose into the sky.

He traveled north, he remembered as a child, seeing a mother and her calf on one of the many times he had trained. At the time, he hated Gilbert for forcing him to learn how to survive with nothing from such a young age. Now, well, Dimitri supposed that was all that kept him alive in the five years he had been… Out of it.

When evening fell, he dismounted Juniper Axe and tugged him off the trail and into the pine forest beginning to shape around them. He found a nice enough place, and set up camp. Fire first, and once it was set to a steady flame, Dimitri allowed himself to relax.

He’d probably have to travel north for another day before he’d be in moose territory, then with luck, be able to actually find one within a day or two. Once he found one, killing it would be easy, then he’d just have to decide the best way to transport it.

Dimitri could skin it right there, he did bring his hunting knife with him.

Yet he was not as skilled in flaying meat off a corpse, and he did not desire for the animal to go to waste.

He set Areadbhar to his left and poked at the flames with a branch, adjusting the logs his fire had been crafted from. The weapon thrummed and twitched, though did not seem displeased. Or perhaps it was. Could it feel?

It was hard to tell if the weapon had always moved as it did, Dimitri had not paid it any mind before, given it was well known all the relics moved occasionally. Maybe it wasn't until he realized the weapon was once, and maybe still is, a living being did he actually watch it as he was.

He remembered when Sylvain got his relic, back when they were still students. He hated the thing, said it creeped him out. Didn't like how it moved or something, he fought Byleth a lot on actually taking and using the item as intended. Adamant it gave him a bad feeling, he eventually relented, but even now still only uses the weapon as a last resort.

Dimitri wondered how long Byleth knew of the Hero’s Relics’ true nature.

Why haven't they been told what the relics were made from? Who they were made from?

Was the Nabatean his lance crafted from a good person? Did they have family, friends? Were they a soldier, a merchant, nobility? Or were they just a person, one that lived their life working on a farm, or perhaps manning a boat?

What had made them so special, that their corpse was desecrated, and their heart turned into the core of a weapon. Did anything make them special, or were they just in the wrong place at the wrong time?

“Can… You hear me?”

The lance did not speak, but twitched. He couldn't tell if that was a normal twitch, or an act of response.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Off in the distance he could hear the howl of wolves. They were pretty far away, he did not worry about being a victim to their hunt. They were content to live and let live with humans as far as he had experienced in the past. He would keep Juniper Axe close though, just to be safe.

Sleep didn't come to him that night, the voices had been louder than usual.

Dimitri rose with the sun and continued north. Around midday, he spotted tracks. He slid off Juniper Axe and trodded over to the churned snow. It had been a while since whatever made the tracks had been there, but it was a trail.

He was lucky, the tracks were definitely of a moose. They weren't terribly clear, so it was hard to determine the size of the beast, still, it was a start, if nothing else. 

The animal was headed northeast, he mounted Juniper Axe, and followed the prints. 

Another day passed, Dimitri pulled away from the trail and made camp near a particularly large snowbank. He rested Areadbhar against the snow, then decided against it and gave the weapon it’s own blanket to sleep upon.

Did it sleep?

After Juniper Axe was fed, he settled down himself, wrapping blankets around him for warmth while he kicked out a patch of snowless ground to lay furs upon to rest. Night was eerily quiet, nothing but the whistle of wind and snow. No owls, no wolves.

The stars were beautiful.

Did the Goddess ever live among the mountains and stars? Sothis certainly didn't now, and hadn't at least for Byleth or his mother’s lifetimes. Would Byleth have to live up there one day? Dimitri selfishly hoped that if he did, it would be after Dimitri had left the world.

The night was too quiet, so he filled it, “I don't know if you can understand me, or even hear me. But I… I want to apologize for what I did. What I made you do.”

Areadbhar was silent.

“It is no excuse, but I wasn't in my right mind. I… Hadn't been for a very long time. Not really sure I am now, in truth,” Dimitri murmured against the fur around his shoulders, “I wish I knew more then, I wish I knew more now. Maybe there is a way to reverse what happened to you… Though that is probably just wishful thinking, I don't know if you would even want a body after all this. Perhaps what you’d want more, what you’d deserve, would be the right to finally rest.”

Dimitri moved his gaze from the fire to the lance, the fingers twitched and clacked together. But no other response was given. Could the lance truly hear him? Was it trying to communicate back to him?

Curious, Dimitri lifted his hand and curled it into a fist. A moment passed, and slowly, the ends of the fingers on his lance curled in, mimicking the fist in a rough imitation. The joints couldnt move properly, yet… The intent was there.

Dimitri covered his mouth with his hand, he was going to throw up.

He stumbled to his feet and hurled the little bit of rations he ate earlier in the afternoon onto the once pristine snow. This whole time. This whole damn time, he had used a sentient being, a person, as a method of slaughtering innocent lives. 

He had tortured people with it. Savored the way fear lit in their eyes, how they begged for death and mercy.

The blood that caked his hands could never be washed clean.

After a while, he managed to compose himself, and return to the fire before he started to develop frostbite. The lance remained where it was, silent, but thrumming with energy. He wished he could speak to Areadbhar, to apologize properly. 

But he couldn't. 

So he sat beside the weapon and brought his knees to his chest. He was out here for a reason, it was a good one. Byleth would love the cloak he’d make for him, he hoped.

“I don't know if you know much about Byleth, my, uh, lover? Fiancé? Soon to be Fiancé, I hope.” 

He laid down on his back, maybe Areadbhar would feel less lonely if he spoke to it? He wasn't sure where he got the notion they were lonely from, but it was there, and frankly after all of this, he wasn't going to question it.

“He is a fantastic man, truly. That's why I’m out here, actually- to hunt a moose for him. In Faerghus, it is tradition to present your intended with a gift, something to show their value to you, or prove yourself as capable of providing for them. I’m going to make Byleth a cloak…” As night trailed on, so did Dimitri’s words. Eventually dissolving into nonsense as the man fell asleep.

Morning came, and Dimitri started on again.

The moose he had been tracking was massive, a young buck in his prime no doubt. The fur he bore was a warm brown, and the antlers stood tall above his head, a crown, in a sense.

Dimitri took his throwing lance, aimed, and struck true. No suffering, no drawn out death. A spear between the eyes, and he was gone.

He tied the moose up with rope, and a few supporting logs to make dragging it easier, then led Juniper Axe back to Fhirdiad. Travel was slow, even with him being the one dragging the moose back to the capital, walking in snow was never easy. 

And when snow became too shallow, Dimitri managed to heft the carcass, poorly, over his back to carry the rest of the way between stops to sleep at night.

He returned in five days.

Dimitri did not like brushing his hair. 

But the thought of Flayn getting her hands on it again was horrifying, so he tied the blond away from his face. It was brushed well enough, probably. 

He had only been back for a full day and there already were people crawling from the cobblestone gaps to speak to him of ‘urgent matters’. Not a single one had been actually urgent. 

He did get a letter from Sylvain and Felix though. Sylvain wrote it, and expressed in the most absolutely unnecessarily formal terms how mad he was Dimitri hadn't told him about the cloak before he and Felix left. Dimitri wasn't sure who he heard about it from, and frankly, he wouldn't be surprised if Dorothea already knew everything happening now, even down in Brigid.

Word traveled ridiculously fast between his friends. He only hoped Byleth had not heard of his surprise yet.

When he entered the dining room to sneak some breakfast before he had to posture in front of a bunch of people he disliked, he found the table was not empty.

Mercedes sat next to his usual seat, a plate of food before her, and a plate already set out for him. 

Huh.

“Good morning, Mercedes. I wasn't expecting you so soon.”

“Oh goodness please,” She laughed, “After reading your letter Annette and I packed right away! We are so excited to see what you have in mind for the cloak.”

“I fear with how fast word has gotten around, Byleth may already know of it.”

She shook her head and patted the spot next to her, he obediently sat down to eat.

“Do not be foolish, Your Majesty, we all know it should be a surprise. No one will speak a word of this to Byleth, I am sure of it. We’re just excited, it's the next big step for you two, and you both deserve happiness.”

“Thank you, Mercedes, it means a lot.”

The woman lit up, a wide smile beamed across her face, “Of course! Now, tell me what you are thinking.”

Dimitri finished chewing before he spoke, “I want the cloak to be black, I have to wait to hear back from Seteth on one aspect of the design, but along the bottom, I want it embroidered.”

Mercedes nodded and pulled the small booklet she had in front of her plate closer so she could write on it. 

“Do you have any pictures drawn up?”

“... I can't draw.”

She giggled and waved her charcoal at him, “No worries then, I shall endeavor to get an image down for you. So the collar will be made of fur, yes?”

“Right, I want it to be lined with it as well, since Byleth seems to chill pretty easily.”

“That's very thoughtful of you!”

Dimitri ducked his head in a lame attempt to hide his blush, “I’d like it to have a hood too. And I want a little um.. Wyvern, embroidered under it. Then along the hem at the bottom, I was thinking… If possible, I’d like a line of forget-me-nots, like a little garden.”

Mercedes scribbled on her paper, humming to herself as she worked. After a couple minutes of silence, she showed him a rough sketch.

“Yes, yes exactly like that. But the wyvern will look different, Seteth will be sending me a better example in his letter.”

She nodded, “Very well. Let us finish eating and shop for some fabrics then!”

With Annette on one arm and Mercedes on the other, Dimitri couldn't help but feel as though he were a prisoner on track for the hangman’s noose. He was excited, of course, he wanted to find the perfect fabric for Byleth’s cloak.

Yet… He was very much the center of attention and he hated it.

It wasn't like he could blend in either, he was tall, as were all Blaiddyds, and he supposed the amount of tall blond men with an eyepatch was limited in Fhirdiad. He sorely missed Dedue, he’d probably have gone to the market and come back with the perfect choice.

Maybe it was better he was picking it out? He wanted the gift to be personal, and despite having a lot of help with it, at the end, he wanted to craft the cloak from his own two hands as best he could.

“Oh! Dimitri, what about this one?” Annette dragged him to a window with a few fabrics hung for display.

It was a silky looking fabric, it shimmered in the light of the early morning. The fabric was beautiful but… It didn't seem quite right.

“No, I don't think that’d be a good fit.”

Annette pulled him inside anyway, and Mercedes kept him from trying to flee, as he was bodied into the shop. An elderly woman stood behind an oak counter, comically large glasses perched upon a small button nose.

“Oh? Customers? Why, hello there,” The woman slid off the stool she sat upon and disappeared briefly before stepping out from behind the counter with a cane. 

“Hi there! We’re looking to get some fabric for our friend here, he’s getting engaged.”

The woman smiled and adjusted her glasses, “Oh wonderful, what do you have in mind?”

“Um. Something black.”

“Man of few words, I see,” She chuckled, and walked to the silken sheet hung before the window, “I guess this caught your eye?”

Annette took the fabric from the woman when she held it up and draped it over her head, “Perfect! Now Byleth can lurk in style.”

“He does not lurk. ”

“He wears mostly black when he can and tries to avoid all contact with people he doesn't know,” Annette responded, “He lurks.”

Dimitri scoffed, Byleth was a busy man that did not have time to talk to every single person that graced the monastery, he was sure. Besides, he was plenty social with his former students.

“So I take silk is not what you're looking for, young man?”

Dimitri wondered if the woman realized who he was, he hoped she didn't.

“No, something more practical would be his style, something that’d be warm, I was thinking dyed cotton, if you had any.”

The woman rubbed her chin with a free hand and nodded, “I see, tell me about your betrothed.”

Annette groaned, and Mercedes giggled. 

“Well, his name is Byleth. He is a very quiet man, but very thoughtful. I… Want to make him something nice, but he isn't one for frivolous dress wear, so I want it to be practical too.”

“What is he like, other than quiet?”

Dimitri wasn't sure what this had to do with getting fabric, but he was content to keep talking about Byleth, “He shows how he feels, and instead of saying how much he cares about someone, he would spend weeks cultivating a whole greenhouse with forget-me-knots because it was my favorite flower.”

“ That's why the greenhouse was overrun with them?” Mercedes questioned, still content to hang off his arm, “That is so sweet.”

Dimitri hung his head to hide the blush growing on his cheeks.

“I see, I see. Then I think I have just the fabric, wait here one moment,” The woman turned and hobbled away from them to a room behind the wall of the counter, soft clacks from her shoes and cane could faintly be heard as they waited.

“I wonder what she will get us,” Mercedes hummed, “I bet it will be lovely.”

Annette trotted back to the pole where the silk had been draped and put the fabric back where it belonged, “Silk would have looked prettier.”

“Yes, but His Majesty is right, I don't know if the professor would really care for appearances as much.”

“I guess… Still, he’s the Archbishop! He ought to put more effort into looking the part.”

“He always looks elegant,” Dimitri grunted.

“You only think that because you can't look at him without swooning like a teenager,” Annette pointed a finger at Dimitri, her face managed to be serious for almost a minute, before the act fell and she dissolved into giggles with Mercedes.

“Oh my, this is heavier than I thought,” The woman’s voice sounded muffled, “Can one of you be a dear and help me carry this?”

Dimitri wasted no time tracking down the tiny woman, eventually he found her half buried in a heavy woven line of fabric. It was black and thick, Dimitri recognized it as something that many pegasus riders wore on long journeys to keep warm. He easily lifted the fabric, though it didn't feel like cotton, and freed the woman from what could have been her untimely demise. 

“Thank you sweetie, can you carry it to the counter for me?”

“Of course.”

He set the sheet of fabric down upon the oak, careful not to let any of it brush the ground. After a moment, the woman took a seat in the stool she had just behind the counter, and brushed her knobby fingers over the cloth.

“This here is woven wool, it will be warmer than cotton, and also looks nice,” She explained, “You are getting engaged, your gift should look good too. Even those who don't seem to care for outward appearances, still appreciate lovely things.”

Dimitri hadn't really considered that before. Byleth had always loved flowers, and he remembered Byleth telling him about the flowers he liked and why. Some he liked because they were important to people he cared about, but some he just liked because he found them pretty. Dimitri would have to rethink the flowers he’d embroider along the hem. Perhaps one flower for each of their friends?

Yeah, Byleth would like that.

“You are right,” Dimitri agreed, and ran his hand over the plush wool. 

It was a bit stracty to the touch, as many fur related fibers were, but it was heavy and would be warm. Plus with the moose fur lining the inside, he didn't have to worry about it coming in direct contact with Byleth’s skin, in case it was sensitive to that sort of thing.

Annette patted the line of fabric herself, Mercedes followed suit. They both seemed to give it their seal of approval, so Dimitri agreed to purchase the whole line. 

Was it overkill? Probably. But he wanted to be sure he’d have spare fabric just in case he messed up on a section.

The woman bundled the fabric up with joy and pushed it toward Dimitri, a warm smile graced her features, “I am sure he will love it, Your Highness.”

“I broke another one.”

Mercedes, bless her, didn't even sigh as she fished out another fresh needle for him, and passed it over.

“Don't go so fast, if you are slower, it might be easier to push through the fabric.”

Dimitri nodded and followed her advice, they weren't even working on the actual cloak yet, but he was so nervous. He knew nothing about embroidery, and even less about art and making things look pretty. Mercedes said she’d help him, but also agreed he needed to do the core of the work.

He started to get the hang of it, as long as he worked agonizingly slow, he broke less needles. After a couple days of practice, it was time to embroider the real deal. 

Dimitri and Mercedes had adjusted the floral pattern on the bottom to incorporate a whole bunch of vastly different flowers. A flower for each student. Byleth would (hopefully) be Dimitri’s husband soon, but he knew the man’s former students were just as important to him as he was.

“Why are we embroidering it now? The hide is still tanning.”

“It is easier to push a needle through wool than leather and wool,” Mercedes explained, white chalk brushed along the bottom of the measured strips they had cut, “Plus, this way the pattern can only be seen from the side we want it to be, since the rough side will be covered by fur.”

Made sense, he supposed, and they got to work.

Ingrid arrived with the response from Seteth the day after, and upon transferring the sketch Seteth had sent him, began to embroider the white, four winged dragon to the back of the cloak, just under the hood.

“That is an odd looking wyvern,” Mercedes commented, her fingers expertly cut and tied the thread he would need to finish the design.

Dimitri pulled back from the partially finished dragon, fearful he would break the needle in his stress, “Ah, yes, well. It's something of a… uh… Inside thing. Between us. He’ll get it.”

Mercedes laughed, “Sure, sure, I’ll pretend I don't know who that is then!”

Wait. 

Did she know? Who all knew? He thought he had been very secretive in the letter, and Seteth did not speak anything about Byleth being a dragon in his response, right? 

“Please do not break another needle, I only have a couple left.”

“R-Right, sorry.”

Dedue returned just before he finished the cloak, three weeks later. Dimitri had missed the man greatly. 

Finally, though, it was just about done.

Dimitri draped the finished garment over a mannequin, it was beautiful, if he did say so himself. He grabbed his needle and a fresh string of thread, the final touch was needed, a single clasp to hold the cloak shut. Carved from one the antlers of the moose, the bone had been shaped to resemble a forget-me-not flower, a blue sapphire set in the center where the pollen would have been. 

The antler itself was embedded in silver, both to keep it sturdy and to give something to actually thread through when attaching the clasp. When both sides were sewn on, Dimitri tested the fastening by pushing up on the sapphire, allowing the ‘flower’ to break into two separate halves, then clicked them back together.

Perfect.

“I hope he likes it,” Dimitri was proud of the cloak, in the end he made it himself, crafted entirely by his own hand. The finer details, and carving of the clasp were largely done with the help of his friends, but at the end of the day, Dimitri was proud to say each stitch sewn was by his own hand.

What if Byleth didn't like it?

Dedue rested a hand on his shoulder, “He will love it.”

Dimitri let out a breath he had not known he was holding, Dedue was right. Byleth would love it. Now, he just had to deliver it.

To Byleth.

In person.

Dimitri had no idea why the thought scared him so much.

“Just because it is finished, does not mean you have to deliver it now,” Dedue took his hand from his shoulder and took a step back.

Confused, Dimitri turned to face him, “What do you mean?”

“There is no reason to rush, this can be done on your time. If you are not ready, then you can hold onto the gift until you are.”

In a way, having the pressure of it needing to be done right away taken from his shoulders, only made him want to do it sooner. He wanted to see Byleth’s reaction, he wanted to propose to him proper, he wanted to be formally engaged, he wanted to marry the best man he ever had the grace of knowing.

“I… Would like to depart as soon as we are able,” Dimitri decided, he had a plan for how he wanted everything to work, all he had to do was put it in motion.

Dedue chuckled, “Of course, you have a council meeting to go over territorial disputes next week, but after that, you are free for some time.”

“Good, we leave after the council.”

“Very well.”

Dimitri could almost feel his brain melt from his skull. In truth, he really did not even need to be at this meeting, it was territory and marriage disputes between a couple of lords from the old Alliance territory and ones in Faerghus. Genuinely, he was just there for show and to have the final say if the five men could not come to a civil agreement.

Lorenz was there as well, though as an ambassador for the former Alliance, and wasn't directly involved in the squabble. At least he looked more invested in the current matters, that, or was good at pretending to be. He would not be surprised if the man actually did find some sort of entertainment or value in listening to the men complain about what in large would amount to nothing.

“It is only right my family has ownership of the valley, we are a larger one, and we had remained loyal to his Majesty, unlike you deserters.”

“The land belonged to my great grandparents before the split, my family wants it back. It was ours first.”

Dimitri massaged the side of his head. If it were up to him, he’d split the land in half and they both could get extra property to their family’s name. When the Alliance had broken off from Faerghus, the valley became a neutral ground, no longer belonging to either nation. The soil was supposedly very rich, and with the amount of sun the valley could get, the area was ideal for growing and producing crops or raising livestock.

So, needless to say, both of the men present wanted it, and in turn, the other three representatives wanted it as well. Each man had promised a portion of the fertile area to their own allies, in return for helping them buy out the land.

That caused fights between them, and now, Dimitri had to sit and watch them bicker as children did over their favorite toy. Still, he listened as each of them gave their reasoning for staking claim on the land. He may find it boring, but he wasn't a fool, this was important in both maintaining peace, as well as keeping those within his rule well cared for.

Finally, they turned to him for his decision.

“The Dionise family will have the valley, it was once theirs, and so it shall return to them. They are not deserters, nor was their family. Regardless of if they stayed with Faerghus or became a member of the Alliance, they are with us once more, that in the end, is what matters. There will be no punishment, nor reward, for formally being either as we are one nation now. Respect each other as such.”

There was rumbling from the Grigori family, but they already had more than enough territory. They did not need the valley as the Dionise family did, that ultimately, was what swayed his decision. He would have it arranged for the Grigoris to have some gold in consolation for not obtaining the land they wanted.

With the dispute settled, Dimitri dismissed himself from the chamber they had held their discussion in. 

“Well done, your Majesty! Masterfully put, if I do say so myself.”

Dimitri slowed his stride so Lorenz could catch up to him, “Why do you say that?”

“Well it's obvious, you made a smart decision, no matter how the Grigoris will complain about it next council.”

“Ah, well, thank you. I am glad you believe so.”

Lorenz chuckled, “Oh please, no need to be so modest your Majesty. Your intellect is beyond calibre.”

Dimitri liked Lorenz, he did, but he also knew the man was being far too kind for it to be natural.

“Alright, what do you want?”

The man blinked, then laughed again, this time strained and a touch nervous, “Ah, I suppose I was not as subtle as I should have been.”

“No, you were not. Lorenz, if you need my help with something, all you have to do is ask. You're my friend, no need to try and kiss my boots to get on my good side.”

“You… Are right. I apologize,” Lorenz sighed, the previous cheerful facade fell from his face, “I do need your help.”

“Should we speak in private?”

“Yes.”

Dimitri led Lorenz from the hall down to one of the many unused rooms. The castle was far too big for one man and a couple of servants, so many rooms, like the one he gestured Lorenz into, were left unattended. Clean, of course, but free of anything other than idle decoration.

“Dedue, can you make sure no one disturbs us?”

“Of course.”

The man stood vigil at the door when Dimitri closed it behind him and Lorenz.

He motioned to one of three seats in the room, and sat down on the one across from it, “So, what troubles you?”

“It was passed along to me that Ingrid had been investigating some unusual bandits,” Lorenz started, his ankle pulled to rest upon his knee.

“Yes, they had appeared to head north, to the Sreng desert, until she lost sight of them. To my latest update, she still has people looking out for them, though when I was north, I did not run into anything other than animals.”

“Hilda’s brother, Holdst, reported seeing a group of strange people at Fodlan’s throat. They did not attack, nor pose any sort of threat, though they did skirt along the Almyrian side of the border. Holdst sent spies after them, and reported that they may have taken a boat north… Toward Sreng.”

Dimitri nodded, “I see, what makes you, or, what made Holdst believe they were not just natives returning home?”

“Sreng and Almyra are hardly friends,” Lorenz snorted, “There would be no reason for them to favor Almyra over our land if they were simply returning home, and yet, they took great care not to step foot within the border. Does that not strike you as suspicious?”

“Sure, but I am not in the business of hunting people down with no reason, not anymore.”

Lorenz’s face fell, guilt graced his features momentarily, then hardened, “There is one other thing to report, something that Hilda passed on to me alone. Among them, there were several mages and… What seemed to have been the Death Knight.”

Dimitri froze at that, “The Death Knight?”

“Yes, Hilda is suspicious of the account, and can only go by what the spies had described to both her and Holdst, but she is worried what it could mean. She reached out to Claude, he was well aware of them, and is equally concerned. Especially with the knowledge that the Death Knight was spared.”

“What reason would Jeritza have to go to Sreng though? That makes no sense.”

“And yet, that is what is being told.”

To say the news was alarming, would be an understatement. Byleth had been so sure that Jertiza deserved a chance to live, to not be under anyone’s thumb. Perhaps the man was simply finding a new path of life for himself, and it was nothing less than that.

Yet, if that were the case, why would he still be described as the Death Knight, after all, he was only known as that due to his armor. So, he still wore his armor then? Why would he if his intentions were of peace?

“Thank you, Lorenz, for bringing this to my attention. I will discuss with Mercedes what she believes her brother may be doing, and I will inform Sylvain of the matter as well, he may be able to have a better understanding of what the climate in Sreng is now, given his land borders it.”

Lorenz nodded, “Very good. Then, I must be off, I have several things to get done before the month is over yet.”

“Of course, allow me to walk you to the stables.”

The ride to the monastery took ages.

It didn't, in truth, but it sure felt like it. Especially knowing he had sent word ahead to Seteth, informing him of his intended arrival. He wondered if he kept that a secret from Byleth as well. It would be nice to surprise him by showing up, but he was far more invested in giving the man the cloak he had crafted.

Ashe and Dedue accompanied them, Ingrid had been sent ahead, and Felix and Sylvain were… Doing something else. He wasn't sure what, just that they would not make the journey with him. He hoped it had nothing to do with the Death Knight, nor any suspicious activity in Sreng.

Ashe spoke the entire ride there, babbling on about anything and everything. Dimitri appreciated him filling the silence, so his thoughts would not have a chance to run wild and spiral out of control. He feared he would overthink everything, lose his courage, and try to turn tail back for Fhirdiad.

He was excited, but so very nervous.

When they passed through the gate, Dimitri dismounted and led Juniper Axe toward the stable, no sign of Byleth. Likely meaning he did not know of his arrival, yet. He would find out shortly, Dimitri was sure, he only hoped he could be the one to surprise him rather than a guard mentioning it to him.

He had only just begun to settle Juniper Axe in her stall for the next couple days when Dedue nudged him aside.

“Go on, I’ll finish taking care of the mounts and unpacking.”

“Are you sure?”

Dedue snorted, and no further response was needed. Dimitri thanked him with a pat on his shoulder, and made haste through the courtyard to reach the cathedral. With the sun cresting it’s peak, Byleth likely would be either in the cathedral or dining hall, unless there were some meeting or audiences he had to attend.

Song began to fill the air as he strode closer to the cathedral. Choir practice, from the sound of it. He wondered if there were students starting to attend the Officer’s Academy again, or if it simply was the residents keeping up with their song. He ducked in and stuck close to the wall, cautious to not disrupt anyone. 

They all were adults, aside from some younglings here and there, but far too young to be enrolled in the academy. Likely orphans or squires, then. No sign of Byleth though, so Dimitri did not stay long. 

The dining hall was loud and full, yet also held no sign of Byleth.

Where was he?

Perhaps he was in a meeting? He returned to the main hall and trekked up to the second floor, Alois’ door was open, though only Cathrine and Shamir were present inside.

“Good afternoon.”

Catherine jumped and her hand immediately went for her sword, her… Relic. Dimitri tried not to think about it, or Areadbhar strapped to his back, and instead stepped into the room fully, so as to make his identity known.

Catherine relaxed and laughed, her hand brushed stray hair from her face, “You startled me, Your Majesty.”

“My apologies.”

Shamir, to her credit, was entirely unphased. Instead she cut right to the subject he had come to inquire for, “Looking for Byleth?”

“Ah, yes. He isn't in the cathedral or dining hall.”

Catherine elbowed her wife, “Its His Grace, you know better Shamir.”

The woman snorted, though commented no further on the matter, so Cathrine continued for her, “He was with Lady Rhea, Seteth and Flayn on the third floor last I saw him. They were discussing private affairs, I believe. Seteth informed me you're allowed to join.”

“Thank you,” He nodded, and continued upstairs. Sure enough, he could hear voices as he began his accent. Couldn't pick out what they were saying, but he recognized Flayn’s laugh.

They all stood upon the balcony, Flayn had her feet dipped into the left pond, a pile of white flowers beside her. Seteth and Rhea leant against the railing, Rhea’s hair was up in a loose bun, though flowers still decorated the sides of her head.

Seteth looked the same, as did Byleth, aside from the headpiece he wore. A gold wreath wrapped around the back of his head, beads shone in the sun as they cascaded down the back and side of his head. Two lilies, much like the ones Rhea wore, decorated right above his ears.

Effectively hiding them from sight.

Byleth turned to him first, as he stepped from the shadow of the hall into sunlight. His eyes widened, and Dimitri couldn't help the smile he knew crossed his lips. He had surprised him. 

Byleth closed the distance between them, and pressed his forehead against his arm, “Dimitri, you're here.”

“I am, Beloved,” He wrapped his arms around the man and allowed himself to bring Byleth in for a brief hug before releasing him.

He grunted when a weight pressed against his ribs, and he found Flayn burying her face into the blue of his cloak, “Dimitri! You didn't tell us you were coming!”

Dimitri patted her back, “I wrote your uh- Brother. I did not realize he would have kept a secret from you as well.”

She snorted, but remained attached to him, Dimitri allowed it. He attempted the vague motion of a bow to Lady Rhea and Seteth, both thoroughly amused by the reactions thus far, no doubt.

“Welcome back, Dimitri,” Seteth chuckled, Dimitri could not help but feel honored the man felt at ease enough with him to allow his daughter to hang off of him as she did, “I take everything went well?”

“Yes, yes it did. I will need some time to prepare everything, but… yes.”

Seteth nodded, Rhea beamed and clapped her hands together, “Oh this is so exciting! I’ve never seen a human’s pro-”

Seteth nearly pushed his sister from the balcony in his rush to keep her from speaking further, “Quiet!”

Rhea smacked at Seteth’s head, though he remained firm on keeping a hand over her mouth. 

Dimitri figured now would be a good time to elegantly guide Byleth away from Rhea before she ruined the surprise, so he placed a hand on the small of his lover’s back, “I have not enjoyed tea in a while, would you like to have a cup?”

“Keeping me from finding out what she was going to say?”

Dimitri chuckled, “Yes, absolutely.”

Byleth nodded, “Let us go to the greenhouse then, and… Flayn, do you want to come as well?”

“Yes please.”

“I will prepare the tea and snacks,” Without a further word, Byleth swept from the balcony and down the stairs.

After a tense beat, Seteth released the former Archbishop, and got hit in the back of the head for it, “What was that for!”

“It is supposed to be a surprise,” Seteth seethed, then rubbed the area she had whacked him.

“Ah, I understand,” Rhea pressed a delicate nail to her chin, “It will be hard to keep Byleth away from you whilst you prepare.”

Dimitri figured with his duties, Byleth would be rather busy. He certainly wouldn't have time to follow Dimitri around, “Well, I am sure his position requires much of his time.”

Rhea snorted, a sound he didn't think he had heard her make before, “Please, he is excellent at avoiding his job as it is, with motivation like you? We won't see him for the rest of your visit.”

Dimitri was torn between laughing, and feeling so very warm. He knew Byleth shared his feelings, obviously, yet to hear it so blatantly from another? It assured Dimitri he was not projecting his own emotions onto the man, Byleth really did love him as he did.

Flayn left his side, releasing her hold on him, “Well everyone else is coming, yes? I’m sure he’d be busy with all his other former students coming to visit!”

Dimitri blinked, “Everyone else?”

“Oh yes! Claude will be here any day now, and so will Hilda and Lorenz, Caspar wrote that he, Dorothea, Lindhardt, and Petra would all be coming to say hello too! And even Ferdinand, he’ll be visiting too.”

He certainly had not been made aware others would be visiting. What reason would they have to come? It wasn't Byleth’s birthday, that had passed when Byleth had been gone. Nothing important was happening in late Horsebow Moon to his knowledge.

His confusion must have shown on his face, as Flayn found it imperative to speak up once more, “They’re coming for you two, Little Brother. Everyone is so excited for you, they all want to come and support you the best way they can! You mean a lot to many people, Dimitri.”

“I… Huh. Thank you, Flayn.”

She shrugged, “It was not my idea, though I wholly support it!”

Seteth coughed into his fist before Dimitri had a chance to unpack her sentence, “Do you really think it is wise to keep Byleth waiting much longer?”

“Oh! Yes, right, of course. Excuse me, Seteth, Rhea,” Dimitri bowed properly now that Flayn no longer hung off of him, then turned and made his way down the stairs. Flayn followed on his heels, giggling the entire walk to the greenhouse.

Apparently one could take the skin of a fish and cook it into a chip-like treat. It smelled rather horrid, though Flayn had been absolutely delighted when Byleth pushed a small plate of them in her direction. The chamomile drowned out the scent, as did the gentle glow of forget-me-nots as sun danced through the greenhouse windows.

True to what Flayn had said, the very next day, the monastery went from a comforting rumble of activity to a cacophony of chaos as the former students descended upon Garreg Mach as lions did their prey. He stood beside Byleth as the merry band of misfits from all walks of life spilled through the gate, the man had been beside himself with joy. He didn't show it, yet the way his eyes lit up as each of his former students poured into the academy, spoke louder than any word.

They were swarmed, Dimitri worried Byleth would suffocate under all the attention, though one glimpse at the man’s face assured him that Byleth was perfectly content, basking in the attention of those he loved. 

Somehow, there had been an unspoken goal between everyone, and that was to keep Byleth as far away from Dimitri as possible. Dimitri took the chance to prepare the Goddess Tower for his proposal.

Flayn dusted her hands on her dress, “Can I see the cloak? I heard about it from Brother.”

Dimitri pulled the black cloak from the satchel he had stored it in, unfurled it, and held it up for Flayn to see. Her eyes widened and she jumped in place, clapping her hands in sheer delight, “Oh it is gorgeous! I can not wait to learn of Byleth’s reaction!”

She paused, her expression became thoughtful, then she grinned once more, “He’s going to cry.”

Alarm spiked in Dimitri’s veins, “Is it that bad?”

“What? Oh! No, no. He is going to cry happy tears, I just know it.”

“You… think so?”

“I know so, if he does you better tell me!”

Dimitri chuckled and folded the cloak back up, storing it away in the leather once more, to keep it safe and out of sight, “I will do no such thing.”

“Boo.”

Dimitri ignored her pouting in favor of setting the last chair they carried down. Tea had been something Byleth often used to reach out to others, his attempts at talking, even in the early days as a professor. He thought, in a way, proposing to him over tea would maybe harkon back to that. 

Plus, he finally found the flavor of tea Byleth actually preferred, after much digging, and planned to surprise him by sharing tea he loved for once. The table was simple, white like ones down in the garden were. Dimitri had considered bringing one of the more decorated tables from an office up instead, but that felt like too much. Byleth had shared many cups of tea over this very table, it felt right to use this one over a more classically elegant one.

In the center of the table stood a bouquet of flowers Ignatz had prepared. He had attempted to explain the meanings of each one, and why their colors contrasted perfectly for the occasion, but it was lost upon Dimitri. It looked pretty and smelled nice, Byleth would love it, no doubt.

Steps alarmed Dimitri, he nearly tossed his cloak over the table to hide it from view, in case Byleth had been the one coming up. Though when heads of white and warm brown peeked over the railing, Dimitri relaxed. Mercedes and Dedue each carried a tray. Dedue had empty plates and a small stand for baked goods he had learned Byleth enjoyed, Mercedes had the tea set.

“Do you plan on proposing tonight?” Mercedes inquired as she placed the cups and kettle upon the table. It was empty, but Dimitri would fill it just before Byleth would arrive.

“No, too late. I will propose to him tomorrow evening.”

“Oh good, he found his tea table missing and was quite irritated by it.”

Dimitri had not considered Byleth would miss his table, he hoped he had not caused him undue stress. 

“Oh, perhaps I should have waited until tomorrow to bring it up,” He mused, brows furrowed.

“Probably,” Mercedes giggled, “Do not fret though, he will not go looking for it.”

“Good, but, why?”

“Caspar, Raphael, and Claude claimed they broke it arm wrestling.”

That was a ridiculous lie, there was no way Byleth believed them.

“He was so mad, why, he scolded them like he used to when he was still our professor!” Mercedes laughed, light and airy, “You should have seen their faces. They all had to retire to their rooms for the rest of the night like children!”

He supposed Byleth wouldn’t have considered his former students would ever lie to him.

“I hope he will not be mad at me for taking the table,” Dimitri pondered, eyeing the white set with a new sense of dread. Perhaps he should have gone with the carved wood instead.

“Do not be silly, he will be happy to see it. I do not believe he could ever be mad at you for something like that anyway.”

Dimitri chuckled, “I pray that is the case.”

Dedue set down the plates, “Relax, you will do fine.”

“I know, I know. It is… Nerve wracking all the same though, what if he says no?”

The three of them turned to face him, their expressions varying between annoyed, appalled, and incredulous.

“You're joking,” Dedue stated, Dimitri feared if his brows rose any further they’d fly off his face, “You are joking, yes?”

Dimitri wasn't sure how exactly to respond, so he didn't. Dedue sighed and shook his head, “He adores you, Dimitri. He will not turn you down, were you not the one who told me Byleth found your marriage traditions strange, and had simply wanted to be done with it?”

He had a point. Byleth had been ready to be formally married months ago, of course he would still want to now. He was being foolish, yet his mind still raced. He feared the worst, though he tried to keep such thoughts from his mind.

“Alright, the rest will be finished tomorrow. Flayn, could you pass on to keep Byleth from the dining area tomorrow afternoon?”

“Of course! We will make sure he does not step a single foot in there.”

Dimitri could not help but wonder how that would play out, few things motivated his Beloved as food did. He planned to be as swift as possible when he and Dedue baked the food they’d eat when the sun began to set. Hopefully the hour or two it’d take to cook everything would not be enough to irritate Byleth too much.

Dedue clasped his shoulder in a firm grip, “You’ll do fine.”

“I know.”

The tea was already steeping in the pot, food laid out upon the tray and two plates, the flowers Ignatz arranged still looked wonderful. Everything was perfect. All that was missing, was Byleth himself.

Dimitri set the last of three candles down on the table, all lit, their flames cast the tower in a warm orange glow. From where he had set the table, they’d be able to watch the sunset over the horizon. His hands shook.

Everything would be fine, he knew that. He did, genuinely. Yet his mind would not cease it’s incessant chatter, the ‘what ifs’ and scolding of ghosts long past, reminding him of what he’s done. How could he be worthy of Byleth’s love?

But love isn't something one had to be worthy of to have, he knew that. Byleth loved him back, and that was all that mattered. 

Still, as the time grew ever closer, he could not shake the tremors assaulting his body.

Dimitri was not sure how long had passed until he heard the click of boots upon stone steps. He drew in a steadying breath, and adjusted the braid in his hair (Flayn did it for him again, and was far more gentle), he hoped he looked presentable. 

It had been some time since he had worn truly formal attire, his coronation was the last he could remember. The jacket he wore was similar in its militaristic cut, though far more embellished with embroidery, and gold buttons that streamed down just left of the center of his chest. The jacket itself was a deep blue, and decorative patterns of the Blaiddyd crest and griffins were hand stitched in gold.

The suit had been his father’s, he was told.

He thumbed the cufflink when pale hair appeared from the staircase, Byleth paused the moment his eyes met Dimitri’s. The man hesitated, but finished rising the stairs, his steps no longer made a sound, cautious. 

Byleth’s narrow pupils darted over the scene, Dimitri didn't dare breathe, lest he startle the man. 

The silence broke when Byleth's calm voice filled the air, “I should have dressed better, it seems.”

Dimitri laughed, and the tension dissipated, “Do not worry, this was meant as a surprise.”

While not spoken aloud, Dimitri found Byleth’s attire as the Archbishop plenty formal. He did wonder what Byleth would have considered ‘better’ dressed than the elegant robe and belt he wore, though. 

He extended a white gloved hand, and bowed, “May I?”

Byleth placed a hand in his own wordlessly. Dimitri guided him to the table, pulled out a chair with his foot, and gestured for the man to take a seat. When he settled, Dimitri poured him a cup of tea, then took his place on the opposite side of the table.

Scarred hands wrapped around the floral cup, and Byleth brought the tea to his mouth, though hesitated with furrowed brows, “... This isn't chamomile.”

Of all things around him to comment on, Dimitri couldn't help but chuckle the choice of tea was what first drew his attention.

“Yes, it's a floral Oasis blend, I have it on good authority it is your favorite flavor.”

Byleth stared at the tea, Dimitri couldn't tell what his expression meant, it was so carefully neutral. Was he wrong? He trusted Claude to get information, perhaps there had been a mixup though? Dimitri tried not to panic, and let Byleth have time to digest the information.

Sure enough, after a heavy pause, Byleth took a sip… And smiled.

“Yes, it is. How did you find out?”

“Claude.”

Byleth hummed, “Ah. I’ve never seen it sold by vendors here, where did you get it?”

“Took a bit of digging, but I found a vendor not too far from Enbarr that had some.”

Dimitri couldn't taste the tea, but he could smell it. Scents like roses, honey, oranges, and something he couldn't quite identify wafted from the tea. It had been a bit expensive, not that it mattered to him, of course, though he wondered how Byleth got his hands on such an apparently rare blend.

“Makes sense, I first had it when I was young after my father was on a mission south. He was gifted it, I think, by a villager he had saved. He gave it to me, and when I first brewed it, I had brought it to Jeralt to taste. I burnt the tea horribly then, it was my first memory of him laughing at me. He showed me how to brew tea properly then, and it became something we bonded over.” 

Byleth’s smile became bittersweet, “I love the tea because it reminds me of how happy my father would be when I’d go out of my way to brew him some. I… I didn't know how to connect with him then, and this became a way I could.”

Dimitri reached over the table and placed his hand over the one not holding the cup to his lips, Byleth intertwined their fingers. No words were spoken, none needed to be. Despite everything tasting the same, he couldn't help but enjoy himself as Byleth eagerly helped himself to the food before them. Watching his expression change with each new bite of food was as adorable as it was heartwarming. He was so glad Dedue helped him bake.

The sun began to set proper, the sky painted in purple, orange, and pink. The colors reflected off Byleth’s hair in a myriad of colors, their hands still clasped together, Dimitri ran his thumb along Byleth’s.

“Thank you,” Byleth’s voice was so soft, so tender, “For all of this, I… No one has ever done something like this before for me.”

Dimitri vowed he’d change that immediately. For all the deeds he selflessly did for others, Byleth deserved to be treated just the same. 

“You are welcome, Byleth, I’m relieved you are enjoying yourself.”

Byleth tilted his head, “What is the occasion?”

Ever the astute one, his Beloved was. 

Dimitri released his hand and stood, he retrieved the leather bag that held his gift, and presented it to Byleth. Wordlessly, the man rose as well and took it. He turned the parcel over, then opened the leather flap. With care byleth only reserved for those he cherished, Byleth slowly pulled the cloak from the bag, and set the leather aside upon the table.

Tension and anxiety coiled in Dimitri’s gut when the cloak unfurled. Byleth’s eyes widened, he turned the garment over in his hands, handling it the way one would a child. Dimitri had never seen Byleth’s hands tremor before, yet, as his fingers traced over the embroidered dragon just under the hood, there was a subtle shake to them. He lifted the end of the cloak up, his thumb ran along the flowers decorating the hem. 

When his eyes rose to meet Dimitri, the man was shocked to see how glossy they were. 

“Wh… What is this?” Byleth inquired, his voice warbled in a way that broke Dimitri’s heart.

He retrieved the cloak from him and swung it around his shoulders, “It's for you, I-I made it for you.”

Dimitri’s hands shook as he clasped the cloak shut, it fit Byleth perfectly. 

“You made this?”

“I had some help,” Dimitri laughed, “But yes. Each stitch is my own. Mercedes helped me plan the patterning, Annette helped with sewing the leather, Seteth gave me the design for the dragon.”

Byleth’s hands darted out to grab his own, they were warm.

“You made this… for me?”

Dimitri did not like the implications of Byleth’s shock, and nodded firmly, “Yes. I made this exclusively for you.”

Byleth stood there, silent. He did not move, did not speak, if Dimitri did not know better, he’d be worried the man no longer breathed. He was still, completely shocked silent.

With great care, he peeled his hands away from Byleth’s own, “This is not all I have for you.”

Dimitri tried to keep his hands from shaking so violently, but his body saw it fit to betray him when he reached into his pocket, and produced a single silver ring. The center had a single emerald, it had once belonged to his birth mother. The very same ring his father had given to her, for his own proposal.

“I… I had planned so very many things to say. But they are lost upon me now,” Dimitri chuckled, “I love you Byleth, with all of my heart. You found a broken animal of a man here, in this very room, and reached out to him. You may not know it, but you saved me then. 

“You remained by my side despite how I acted, how I treated you. Yet you never wavered, never let my demons get the better of me, you were the guiding light that brought me back, brought me hope. Your kindness is unparalleled, both in how you treat me and those around you. You care so much for others, you try so, so hard, to help those in need. You always take time to take care of others, so I ask, if for once, you could let someone take care of you. 

“For the rest of my life, I would want nothing more than to be by your side, no matter where your future takes you. Allow me to be there for you when you are scared, let me help you and care for you, as you do to others. In return, I hope you would continue to watch over me, and… And if it suits you, I would love to marry you.”

Byleth did not speak, but held his hand out, and Dimitri warbled a weak laugh. He flipped his hand over and attempted to slide the ring on, yet it seemed the Goddess herself scoffed upon him, as he realized, the ring had been bent between his fingers. Pinched from his crest flairing, and Dimitri not even realizing it.

He stared at the ring, after all of that. It had been perfect! He had done so well, it was ruined. How could he have been so careless how-

“I’ll find leather and wear it around my neck,” Byleth spoke, “Like you do.”

Dimitri was stunned when Byleth took the ring from him without another word, and closed the distance between them, resting his forehead on Dimitri’s chest. His heart felt as though it would burst. He wrapped his arms around Byleth and buried his face in the fur of his cloak, it was then, he noticed the slight tremors in Byleth’s shoulders.

He pulled back, and peeled Byleth from his chest, his face was red and fat tears rolled down his face. The man ducked his head, an attempt to hide his tears no doubt, though Dimitri grabbed his chin and tilted it up to meet his eye. 

“Why are you crying, Byleth?”

“I-I don't know,” He hiccuped, “I’m happy, I promise.”

Dimitri pulled him in for another hug, and let the tears wet the front of his coat, he couldn't care less. He took a page from Byleth’s book and slowly rubbed circles into his back, his cheek rested upon his head.

“Will you be my husband?” Dimitri knew the answer, but he selfishly wanted to hear Byleth verbally confirm it.

“Yes,” Byleth sniffled, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Dimitri would absolutely not be telling Flayn she had been right.

Chapter Text

When Byleth stopped shaking, Dimitri ducked his head down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Byleth laughed, soft, but as far as he could tell, content. He pulled back just enough to see his face, then swooped down once more to kiss Byleth's smile. It did not take long for the affection to deepen, memories of Byleth sprawled beneath him surfaced.

Dimitri would like to do that again. 

He lifted Byleth with an arm, careful not to let their mouths part, and pressed the man against one of the pillars. 

He pulled back just enough to speak, “M-May we take this to your room?”

Byleth snorted, “ Our room, and yes, please.”

Dimitri enjoyed the implication behind calling them room theirs, and wasted no time adjusting his hold on Byleth. He carried the man down the stairs, though hesitated as he reached the bridge that led back to the cathedral. He did not think Byleth would enjoy the undue attention he would receive, being carried as a maiden would be upon her wedding night.

He must have hesitated too long, as Byleth found it fit to squirm from his arms and drop to the ground. 

“Ah- sorry, I was just-”

Dimitri’s apologies were cut off when he no longer could feel his own feet against the ground.

“ Byleth! ”

His Beloved ignored him, and continued their walk directly through the cathedral. It must have made for quite the sight, the Archbishop carrying the King over his shoulder akin to a fresh kill. The looks they received as they walked along the wall of the cathedral were damn embarrassing, yet Byleth did not falter in his step once. 

Dimitri, resigned to his fate, did what he could to hide his face in Byleth’s cloak. It was indeed warm, he was glad.

“Way to go, Teach!” A voice undoubtedly belonging to Claude whistled as they passed across the main bridge. Dimitri lifted his head enough to level him with an even glare, from where he flew just above them. 

The man did not even have the decency to look apologetic, and instead just laughed, “It is hard to find you intimidating like that, Your Kingliness. ”

“Claude, go away,” Byleth’s voice was even, but stern.

“You got it Teach, have fun!” Without any further goading, the man took off further into the sky.

“You make it look so easy,” Dimitri grumbled into the wool of Byleth’s back, the man hummed in response.

The rest of the trip they faced no one else, simply the trek up the stairs. Dimitri was no fool, by the time they reached the third floor, he could hear how winded Byleth was. It had been impressive enough he could lift him, let alone carry him across Garreg Mach and up two flights of stairs.

“You did not have to carry me.”

“It was… My turn.”

Dimitri did not know how to respond to such a statement, and instead, pushed on Byleth’s shoulder just enough for the man to release his hold on him and place his feet back on solid ground. As soon as he was, he slung Byleth over his shoulder, much to the man’s dismay given the groan that escaped his lips.

He pushed the door open, and eased it shut behind him, locking it for good measure. Byleth always was in high demand, especially given how many of their friends were visiting, and Dimitri had no desire to be interrupted. He removed his gloves first, Byleth did not squirm so Dimitri simply kept him over his shoulder while he also kicked off his boots.

“This is ridiculous,” Byleth muttered, his head arched back just enough to watch him unbutton his jacket.

“My turn,” Dimitri parroted, “Besides, you are far from heavy.”

Byleth scoffed.

Dimitri did set the man down when he found it rather hard to undress with him there, and finished shucking his jacket and undershirt off. He hesitated at his belt when he noticed Byleth was still fully clothed, eyes watching his every move with an unreadable expression.

“... Byleth?”

The man blinked at his name, and moved his gaze from Dimitri’s hands ( was he looking at his hands?) to his face, “Yes?”

“You… You can undress too, uh, if you’d like? We don't have to do anything if you don't want-”

Byleth kicked his boots off and slid his pants down to his ankles without another word, he stepped out of them, then leveled Dimitri with an unimpressed stare.

“I want.”

Dimitri was drawn between being aroused at seeing his love pantless before him, and laughing at the absurdity of the Archbishop fully clothed other than pants and shoes, golden wreath and all. He left his pants alone in favor of removing Byleth’s headpiece, and setting it upon his desk.

Next, Dimitri pulled at the sash around Byleth’s abdomen, unfurling it from him and tossing it over the back of his chair. Then he pushed his robe from his shoulders, and folded the white and gold garment up to be set upon the desk with the golden crown. All that remained was the cloak.

There was something so primally exciting about seeing Byleth clad in only the cloak Dimitri had crafted for him. Perhaps it was how content the man seemed to be, wearing it, knowing Dimitri could provide for him. Regardless, Dimitri did not bother taking the cloak off as he lifted Byleth again and eased him down upon the bed.

“Dimitri no, we are not having sex on this.”

Dimitri froze.

Byleth sat up and shrugged the cloak from his shoulders, then carefully pulled it from beneath him and placed it over his nightstand, and the book resting upon it. He laid back down then, though after a moment of silence, lifted himself upon his elbows, a furrow gracing his brows.

“Dimitri?”

“Y-yes?”

Byleth sat up fully, and tucked his legs beneath him to get enough height to meet Dimitri’s eye, “Are you alright?”

“I… yes. I just… I didn't think we- I thought we’d just do what we did last time.”

Byleth tilted his head, then, after a moment, realization dawned upon his features. Though within a moment, the understanding shifted to confusion, “Why? Is now not when we would have sex?”

Dimitri chuckled, the only sound he could manage other than a nervous wheeze as he regained his ability to speak proper, “There isn't a set time we have to have sex, you know.”

“Ah.”

“Besides, I don't think… I do not know if that would be a good idea.”

Byleth sat back on his heels, “Why not?”

“I’m not very good at controlling my strength, I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you in the heat of the moment.”

“You wouldn't hurt me.”

“Byleth you are so strong, but I can still hurt you. If I hold you too tightly, or move you too suddenly, even without trying to, I could… I could really hurt you.”

“I never said you couldn't, I said you wouldn’t. As in, yes, you are powerful and your crest can flair at inopportune times, but I trust you, and I know you would not hurt me.”

Dimitri wanted to shout at him, tell him how wrong he was, he had broken lances, plates, hell, he nearly broke the very ring he planned to have Byleth wear upon his finger! Byleth may not have been human, but Dimitri knew he still felt pain, still could break bones, tear ligaments. Dimitri could so easily break Byleth’s leg just by grabbing it.

He had crushed men’s skulls with a single hand.

Byleth was incredible, he adored the man, and that was why he was so scared of hurting him during such an intimate act. What if Byleth became frightened of him? What if Byleth’s bad leg got injured again, could it be fixed? What if he was too rough, and scared Byleth off from being intimate with him ever again?

“Dima.”

As a beacon from his spiraling thoughts, Dimitri snapped to the present at the sound of Byleth’s voice. He had… He had never called him ‘Dima’ before.

Byleth seemed to have sensed Dimitri no longer was spiraling in his own mind, and placed a hand over his own, “I will not be upset if we don’t have sex because you don’t want to, Dimitri, ever. But if you do want to, and you’re keeping yourself back because of some stupid notion you break everything you touch, we will have a problem.”

Dimitri could not meet Byleth’s gaze, and instead looked off to where Byleth’s clothes were neatly piled upon his desk. The hand upon his own intertwined their fingers, and Dimitri stole a steadying breath, then let it out, “There are no words for how much I desire you, have desired you for years. But I… I am scared. I have never been intimate with anyone before you, never truly desired to be. If I hurt you, I do not think I could ever forgive myself.”

Byleth’s thumb ran along his knuckles, but Dimitri kept his gaze away, he worried he’d lose nerve if he looked the man in the eye. After a moment, Byleth filled the silence, “Do you trust me?”

What an odd question, Dimitri turned back to face him. Byleth’s expression was neutral, carefully so, it seemed. Dimitri reached for Byleth’s other hand and brought his knuckles to his lips, “Of course I do, Beloved. But I don't understand what-”

“Then trust in my trust of you. If I believed you were truly a danger, I would not have agreed to be with you, much less marry you.”

He had nothing to say to that, no response laid upon his tongue. Dimitri just stared at Byleth, stared at the man he loved above all else. 

Dimitri couldn't hold his eye longer than a couple moments, and looked down at the white sheets beneath them, “I… Alright. Promise me, if I do anything that hurts you, even just a little, you tell me right away. Alright? The moment you ask me to stop I will, no questions asked, ok?”

Warmth ran along his jaw when Byleth’s hand pulled from his own to grace his skin, and tilted his head up to meet Byleth’s beautiful gaze, “Ok.”

Byleth’s smile was small, but it never ceased to melt Dimitri’s heart. He closed his eyes to lean into the warmth of his love’s hand for a moment, then eased himself close enough to press a chaste kiss upon his lips. Byleth’s hand moved from his jaw, to his shoulder, and Dimitri placed a hand on the small of Byleth’s back, both to keep him near, and supply support as he eased the man back down.

Dimitri settled between Byleth’s spread legs, and pulled his calves to rest upon his thighs. The kiss deepened, Dimitri’s tongue explored the warmth of Byleth’s mouth, his teeth were sharper now, he noted. 

Byleth slung his other arm around his neck and pulled him closer, the skin of their chests touched. He was so warm. Dimitri rested his hands on Byleth’s bare hips, though took care not to grip them too hard in fear of harming his lover. It also helped keep his hips steady when he tried to grind himself against him.

Byleth pulled back, their pants the only sound between them, he pressed a soft kiss to Dimitri’s jaw. 

When the man settled down against the pillows, Dimitri dove back in and peppered kisses along Byleth’s neck and collarbones. He was tempted to bite him, leave a hickey or two, but he stopped himself before he actually acted on the urge. Dimitri didn't imagine Byleth would be a fan of the attention he’d get with bruises on his neck, and Dimitri did not want to bite him too hard or accidently draw blood.

His mouth trailed further down, he tongued over a pert nipple, Byleth’s quiet moan was decadent. Dimitri continued paying his chest attention while his hand slid between them to brush over Byleth’s labia. He was wet, but Dimitri did not think he was wet enough. 

He pulled back, “Oil. We need oil.”

Byleth grunted, and nodded to his nightstand, “Some in the drawer.”

Dimitri pulled back just enough to reach over and pull a partially used bottle from the side table. He had not imagined Byleth as one to really masturbate, well not seriously, he certainly had fantasies about it though.

“I tried fingering myself a couple days ago,” Byleth spoke, as if answering Dimitri’s unspoken curiosity.

The mere thought of Byleth laying alone in his bed, pushing his fingers inside himself whilst thinking of him, was absolutely delightful. 

“Tried?”

“Didn't like it much.”

Dimitri chuckled, “You probably won't like it if I do, then.”

“It's you,” He shrugged, “It’ll be different. I will tell you if I do not like it, though.”

Dimitri nodded, then hesitated again, sitting back on his knees, “Have you… um… Had intercourse before?”

“No.”

Just like that, Dimitri’s nerves were back in full force. This was supposed to be special, right? Maybe he should wait, maybe after they wed? His apprehension must have shown on his face and Byleth rose up to meet his eye with a slight frown.

“Dima, do you want to stop?”

“I… No, but I- It is your first time, it should be-”

“I have not been ‘saving’ myself,” Byleth snorted, “I simply did not want to have sex until I grew close to you. Sex is sex, I do not see it as some special event.”

Dimitri swallowed his fears, and nodded, “Right, ok. I’ll be sure to be extra careful though, I don't want to hurt you.”

Byleth made a show of rolling his eyes, despite the small smile that rested upon his lips, and flopped back down on the sheets, “Very well.”

He chased the man down and kissed him again, Dimitri wished he could taste. He wished he could taste Byleth’s mouth, his skin, his sex. Still, the gentle sounds he made fed his appetite plenty. He poured a bit of the oil over his fingers and corked the glass to be set aside for later. His hand trailed down between Byleth’s legs again, rubbing over his soft mound, and massaging his cock.

Byleth’s hips lifted to meet his hand, and Dimitri chuckled into the kiss.

Dimitri trailed his index finger down and slowly, carefully, eased a finger in. He was so warm. After a moment, he pulled back from Byleth to meet his eyes, “Alright?”

“Odd.”

“Bad odd?”

Byleth rolled his hips against his finger, Dimitri pressed his thumb to Byleth’s cock, and the man’s breath hitched. 

“No. Good, I think.”

Dimitri nodded and eased the finger out, and pushed it back in. He did that motion a couple more times, then added a second finger. He could feel the stretch of Byleth’s walls around him, he made sure not to make any sudden or forceful movements. 

If his crest flared now he’d fucking off himself.

Dimitri added more oil, and continued the gentle thrusting of his fingers, he worked to stretch him out a bit, and curled his fingers just enough for Byleth’s whole body to jolt. He froze immediately, “You alright?”

“Y-yes, do it again.”

He did, and the sweetest sound escaped Byleth. He would certainly be keeping that in mind. Dimitri, his confidence risen, leant back down to mouth at Byleth’s chest as he eased his digits in and out of him, occasionally curling them just right to earn a moan from his love.

He added a third finger when he no longer felt Byleth grip him as a vice. The man grunted a little, and Dimitri glanced up from his chest to his face. His cheeks were red, as were his ears, and his eyes were closed, shallow pants escaped his mouth.

“You alright?”

“Yes, it is… Uncomfortable, but does not hurt.”

“Do you want me to stop? Go back to two?”

“No.”

Dimitri obeyed, and continued working him open with the three fingers, his thumb rubbed his cock, that seemed to ease the discomfort. Or at least distract him from it, as he started moaning again once he did. It was fascinating, learning Byleth’s body like this. Each reaction he gave, the way he bit his lip when Dimitri moved just right, the noises he made… All were a delight to observe. 

He debated on adding a fourth finger when a hand on his own stopped all movement, “That's enough, I’m ready.”

When Dimitri hesitated, Byleth ran his knuckles along Dimitri’s cheek, “I will tell you if it is too much.”

Comforted, Dimitri eased his fingers from Byleth, and wasted no further time kicking his own pants off. They were tossed somewhere behind him, he did not bother to look where. He used the mixture of oil and Byleth’s arousal to slick up his own cock. He added a bit more oil, just to be safe, and resettled between Byleth’s slender legs.

“Wait,” Dimitri paused, “Can you, um… That is to say is it possible that you, uh, I should get some protection-”

“I can not get pregnant,” Byleth stated, “Infertile.”

Dimitri was unsure how to process that information, and instead ran his fingers along Byleth’s thighs, “I see, how did you find out?”

Byleth shrugged, “While ago, not that it mattered much to me then… I don't recall the details.”

“Ah… I’m sorry.”

“Does that… bother you?” The way Byleth’s voice lowered, how he tried to shrink away from his gaze, hurt Dimitri to his core.

He quickly gathered the man in his arms and peppered kisses all over his face and jaw, “No, no. Of course not, I didn't think we’d have children anyway.”

That seemed to ease Byleth’s concern, and he relaxed in his arms. Dimitri did not want to let go of him, so he eased them both down, and lifted Byleth’s hips to meet his own. Their lips met again, and Byleth arched his back to brush against his aching cock. 

Dimitri pulled back just enough to speak, “Tell me if you need me to stop, or it hurts, ok?”

Byleth pulled him down again for another kiss and nodded, his arms wrapped around his shoulders. Dimitri was painfully slow when he pressed into Byleth.

Even after using his fingers to work him open, the man was still so tight. He had to stop once he pushed the head in, he needed a moment to catch his breath. He really did not want to end this so fast. Dimitri studied Byleth’s reactions as he continued to ease inside of him. 

Byleth’s lip was sucked between his teeth, and his ears splayed back. 

Dimitri stopped when he felt himself about halfway in, and panted out, “You alright?”

Byleth nodded.

He did not like that he was making Byleth uncomfortable, so he used one hand to thumb over Byleth’s dick, he felt Byleth’s pleasure as his breath hitched. Dimitri used that to his advantage, he continued rubbing the nub, gentle, as he eased himself in until their hips were flush. Byleth felt indescribable. He thought his mouth felt amazing, yet this was a whole other level.

Dimitri trailed kisses up Byleth’s neck as he sat inside him, while the man didn't seem tense, Dimitri was going to give him a chance to adjust before he moved any further. Byleth hummed, and seemed to enjoy the attention regardless, turning his head to expose more of his skin. 

Dimitri nipped at his collarbone, careful not to leave a mark, then moved back up to his lips. Their tongues danced together until Byleth pulled away, and shifted beneath him, “You can move.”

He nodded, and their lips clashed once more, Dimitri eased out a touch, then back in. He was so worried about hurting Byleth if he got too carried away. Though given the way Byleth grunted and moved against him, perhaps he was being a bit too careful. He pulled away, one arm beside Byleth’s head for support, the other held his hip in place, and actually began to thrust proper.

Byleth’s head fell back into the pillows, soft breaths pushed from his lips each time he bottomed out. He paused to adjust his angle, and pushed in again, pulling out the loudest sound he’s heard Byleth make so far. He repeated the motion, and the way Byleth shivered against him was delicious.

Dimitri took care to keep the angle and continued thrusting in earnest. Byleth’s moans were still far from loud, soft needy sounds, yet with each time he bottomed out, his voice rose just a touch more. Dimitri buried his face in his Beloved’s neck, and became lost in the smell and the feel of his lover.

Pine and smoke filled his senses, warmth and desire flooded his veins. The hand not holding Byleth curled into a fist, his joints popped at the force, he was getting close. 

Dimitri pulled Byleth’s hips up and almost folded his lover in half, so he could support Byleth with his own while his hand reached between them to rub his Beloved’s cock. Byleth tossed his head back and cried out in pleasure.

“D-Dima please-”

Dimitri rose from his neck to encapture Byleth into another kiss, he could feel the way Byleth’s muscles tensed against him, Dimitri’s own toes curled. He was certainly not going to last much longer, no matter how he tried.

“G-go ahead,” Dimitri panted against his lips, “I have you.”

Byleth curled closed to Dimitri, his sharp nails dug into the tender flesh of his back, his head tucked beneath Dimitri’s chin. Fire bubbled in his veins, a pressing sensation made itself known in his gut, he was so, so close. What finally did him in was seeing Byleth come undone beneath him, the way his head tossed back, his back arched, he was art in motion. 

Dimitri could only watch in awe until the force of his own orgasm hit him like a spear through his body. He shuddered as wave after wave assaulted his body, then, all was still. 

The only sound between him and Byleth was the heavy panting of their exhaustion. Byleth trembled, he could feel the way his legs strained to keep in the position they were. He pulled a hand from Byleth’s dick to his hip, and eased himself out, careful to support his Beloved as he lowered him back to the bed.

He brushed Byleth’s hair from his closed eyes, he was so unbelievably beautiful. How did he get so lucky? Dimitri pressed a chaste kiss upon Byleth’s lips, and rubbed circles against his hip with his thumb.

It took more time than Dimitri had expected for Byleth to open his eyes, though when they did, they were so dilated he could barely see the color of his iris. Warmth filled his chest at the sight of Byleth gazing up at him, as if he were a treasure, something special.

“I love you, so much,” Dimitri whispered, Byleth’s hands left his back to cradle his face and he smiled.

“As do I.”

Byleth had a private bath upstairs, he remembered. He rarely used it, as he preferred the bathhouse, for some reason. Still, it would serve well now. Dimitri slid from utop Byleth, despite Byleth’s irritated whine. He grabbed Byleth’s cloak, and wrapped his Beloved with it, then lifted him in his arms. 

Dimitri was only a bit surprised when Byleth put up no fight other than a snort when he carried him from the room. Perhaps he should put pants on? None other than Byleth lived on this floor, so if they saw him carrying Byleth naked, that was their problem, not his. 

The floor was empty, and Dimitri made it to the bath without incident. He moved Byleth to hold in one arm as he tested the temperature of the water currently in the tub. It was warm. Odd, but Dimitri did not question it. He knelt down and slid the cloak from Byleth’s nude form, and eased his lover into the water. 

Byleth flinched when he was set down, and Dimitri hesitated, “Are you alright?”

“Mhm, sore.”

Perhaps he had been too rough? Dimitri moved his hands to start massaging Byleth’s legs, “Sorry.”

“Don't apologize, I quite enjoyed myself.”

“Good,” Dimitri chuckled, and moved his hands to Byleth’s thighs, “I am glad. That was… I really enjoyed it too.”

Byleth closed his eyes again when his hands moved to his hips, Dimitri pulled back. His brows furrowed, and found a suspiciously hand-shaped bruise where he had been holding onto Byleth. 

“I’m so-”

“Don’t,” Byleth cut him off, and tugged him down for a kiss, “I’m fine.”

Dimitri still felt guilty, though he assured himself Byleth would have told him if it hurt. Instead, he decided to focus on cleaning him, he stood and rustled through the various vials of stuff Byleth had along the bathroom wall. He eventually came across something that smelled like soap, and brough that back to Byleth. 

“You don't have to do this,” Byleth stated.

“I know, I just… I want to.”

Byleth eyed him, then nodded once, “Then join me.”

Dimitri chuckled, but stood and stepped behind his lover all the same. The water was a bit warm for his tastes, yet it seemed the perfect temperature for Byleth. He wondered if the water was magically heated, or if there was some sort of mechanism to keep it warm. He set the soap aside and slid his hand down Byleth’s abdomen to the hair between his legs.

Byleth leant back against him, so Dimitri continued his hand further down. The moment his fingers brushed over Byleth’s cock, the man’s body shivered. Dimitri did not plan on trying to coax another orgasm out of his Beloved, though he definitely would enjoy potentially experimenting with that at a later time.

Instead he washed what he could of any sort of oil or cum left on him. Though when Byleth grabbed his hand and pulled it away from him, Dimitri did not fight it.

“Too much?”

“Yes, I am sensitive.”

Dimitri pressed a kiss to his neck and wrapped his arms around his ribcage, his chin hooked over his shoulder, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Choosing me, being with me… Being mine.”

Byleth kissed the side of his head, “No need for thanks. I am under no obligation to love you, I simply do. You are a wonderful man, Dimitri.”

“Could… You call me Dima, more often?”

Byleth rumbled a hum and settled back against him, he smelled of pine, smoke, and home.

“Yes,” He could feel his lover melt against his body, “Dima.”

The sun’s rays and the sound of wyverns and laughing eventually woke Dimitri up. Exhaustion still clung to his bones, though when he squinted at the window, he found the sun to have already begun it’s ascent into afternoon. Late morning, then.

He yawned, and would have sat up, if not for the head and arm thrown over his chest. Byleth had curled against him, quite literally, the man’s knees were drawn close to his chest, his ear rested over his heart, and the arm not slung around him had been tucked under his chin. It was so charmingly cat-like.

It was the first time Dimitri had seen Byleth asleep in a while. He was glad the man was resting easier than he had, no more late night trips through that cursed forest. Dimitri watched his even breaths, the soft snores escaping his lips were quiet, yet unmistakably there. Byleth’s mouth parted in his sleep, and he noticed, belatedly, Byleth had been drooling. There was a damp spot on the pillow beneath where his head once had been, and as he shifted, he could feel the sticky residue of dried saliva.

Dimitri prayed he could wake up to such a warm sight every morning for the rest of his life.

He brushed hair from Byleth’s face, the man did not stir. He must have been exhausted, then. An idea came to Dimitri, what better way to surprise his fiancé than breakfast in bed?

Careful not to disturb Byleth, he eased out from beneath his arm, Byleth growled something, and grabbed at the pillow Dimitri had been using, brought it to his chest, then settled down. Assured Byleth was not awake, Dimitri scoured the room for his pants. He probably should have paid attention to where he had tossed them last night.

He eventually found them near the door, and slid them on. Wearing his jacket was far too formal now, though he did not exactly have any other clothes. It would not look too strange for the king to be walking around in his undershirt, right?

Besides, it was not as if he planned to be from the room long, just enough to get food and drink.

Dimitri pulled the shirt over his head and stepped into his boots. He spared another glance to Byleth, still sound asleep, then slipped from the room.

By the time he had reached the stairs, Dimitri could already hear Garreg Mach was in full swing. Undoubtedly due to their friend's visit. He wondered how long they planned to stay.

He descended the staircases, then made a straight shot for the dining hall. 

It was rather crowded, he did not want to be gone long, still, he stifled a yawn and took his place in the line. The monk in front of him startled when he glanced over, and began trying to get him to stand in front of him—of course drawing the attention of the whole row. 

Dimitri was about ready to just leave and come back in a couple minutes, but a voice called to him, “Your Majesty!”

He smiled and retreated from the line to wander to the end of the table Dedue and Ashe ate at.

“Good morning!” Ashe chirped, “How did it go?”

Dimitri knew he was smiling, he could feel it, and rubbed the back of his head, “Fantastic. He is my fiancé officially, now.”

Dedue nodded, “Congratulations.”

“Fantastic! I am so happy for you both, nobody will be surprised, but I am sure we can have a celebration nonetheless,” Ashe paused, and leaned forward, his eyes scanned the room, then returned to Dimitri, “Where is the Professor?”

“Sleeping, I thought—ah, that it would be polite to get him some breakfast.”

Dedue snorted into his tea, and Dimitri glared at him. 

Ashe on the reverse side, only seemed confused for a moment, then, as if suddenly struck, his cheeks flushed and he looked down at his breakfast, “Oh, that explains the clothes.”

Dimitri didn't think he looked that unkempt.

His hair didn't feel too disheveled, he had gone out looking worse, he was sure. 

“You do know people won't complain if you just duck in front to grab food for you and Byleth, then leave, right?”

“It is rude,” Dimitri frowned, “And here I am no different than any of you.”

Ashe leveled him with an unimpressed stare, and Dedue chuckled again.

“I am not going to keep people waiting even longer for food just because I feel privileged to get it first, that is nonsense,” Dimitri affirmed, partly to himself, but also to Ashe who simply had shrugged and smiled.

“That is very honorable of you, though I wouldn't take too long, our Professor has never been a morning person, and I do not imagine he’d take kindly to waking up alone.”

He had a point.

Dimitri swiftly stepped back in line. Thankfully, the wait was not long, and he had been able to get his and Byleth’s breakfast within 10 minutes. He wasted no time giving a polite nod to Dedue and Ashe, then darted from the dining hall back upstairs.

He managed to balance the tray on one hand, and opened the door to Byleth’s, no, their bedroom. Dimitri closed it with his foot and froze, Byleth was sitting up, groggy, though clearly awake, and clearly irritated.

Dimitri couldn't help but laugh at the glare he received under the mess of pale green hair. He carried the tray to the bed and leant down to kiss Byleth's cheek, Byleth grumbled, but did not move away.

“My apologies, I had hoped you’d be still asleep when I returned,” He offered the tray to Byleth, “I brought breakfast.”

The mention of food perked his Beloved up, and he made a grabbing motion for the food, Dimitri released it to him, and the man set it upon his blanketed legs. He scooted over, and patted the spot beside him, Dimitri took the invitation without question.

Byleth handed him a plate, and a cup of tea, “Thank you.”

“Thank you for getting food, I was alarmed when I awoke and you were gone.”

Dimitri’s brows furrowed, he remembered waking up and pancing when Byleth was not at his side more than once, fears of losing a loved one again plagued his mind. 

“My apologies, I can wake you the next time I do such a thing?”

Byleth nodded, “Please.”

That was that. They enjoyed the rest of their food in comfortable silence, until Byleth eventually broke it, “I am going on another trip in a couple days.”

“Trip?”

“It is straining to maintain this form long now,” He explained, and wrapped his fingers around his tea, “Like wearing clothes far too small. I can feel myself pushing on my body, trying to break out. Seteth assured me this is normal, and that as everything levels out, it will become easier. Still, this is uncomfortable.”

Dimitri did not quite understand, but he hummed his agreement anyway, “Forgive me if this is too forward but, do you think one day I may be able to join you on such a journey?”

Byleth’s ears perked, and Dimitri tried not to coo at the man, “Yes. Seteth begrudgingly agreed, but yes. Likely not this time, or the next? I am… Big, in the other form. It is hard to maneuver sometimes with so many new limbs. Until I am more used to it, I worry I will squish you.”

Imagining Byleth as being large enough to squish him was so unbelievably strange. The man often felt so small in his hands, though he did also recognize that he, himself, was rather tall; Dedue the only other he’s met that stood higher than he.

His mind wandered to the image in that book Byleth had taken, a massive four winged dragon. He wished the page had not been so sunbleached, so he could see more detail in the drawing. Dimitri was giddy at the thought of seeing Byleth’s draconic form, or, true form? Dimitri did not quite get the logistics of it, but it mattered none to him.

Instead, he inquired, “What do you look like? Other than the four wings?”

Byleth squinted at the door, his ears lowered a touch, then he spoke, “I have feathers, and scales, they are white, or mostly white. It is odd. I have horns as well. I have not properly seen myself in a mirror in truth, I have only seen vague reflections.”

Dimitri never did have the best imagination, picturing how Byleth appeared was hard. Still, it mattered little, he’d see what Byleth looked like one day, and he could wait until he had the honor to witness him first hand. He took Byleth’s free hand in his own, and intertwined their fingers.

Given Byleth would be leaving in just a few short days anyway, Dimitri decided to stay at Garreg Mach until his lover departed.

“Ah, there you are,” Dimitri paused his trip to the market when Claude’s voice rang out behind him.

He waited until the man was at his side before he continued walking, Claude easily fell in step beside him, “What can I do for you?”

Claude presented him with a scroll, Dimitri graciously accepted it and unfurled the paper. While it did not have a sender or recipient, he knew the tidy lettering before him was not Byleth’s hand. He didn't actually recognize the handwriting at a glance, though read through the message anyway.

‘There is word on the location of the suspicious group of folks. My people kept their eyes out and have found bodies of a couple ones that belonged to the group, they all were ripped apart, and appeared to have been burnt. Something big attacked them, however the wounds are unlike anything we’ve seen to date, apparently. I will keep you updated if we find anything else.’

When he glanced from the scroll up to Claude, he was casual as ever. He perked when he noticed a new bow being sold at the weaponsmith, and trotted over to get a closer look. Dimitri rolled the scroll back up and tucked it away, he could take a well enough hint.

Act natural, pretend the scroll was nothing but a simple delivery. 

He passed Claude’s ogling, and paid for some chamomile at one of the food stands, he had been drinking it more often as of recently. Dimitri had a feeling he’d need it after the coming conversation he braced himself for. Areadbhar strapped to his back, he already set up a lunch with Rhea, he hoped he could get some answers.

Rhea’s room was different from the one she had used to reside in. The colors were muted and natural, deep greens and browns decorated the simple room. Despite its simplicity, there were many things tucked into every nook and cranny, Dimitri’s eye was drawn to a very old tapestry depicting five dragons, and who he presumed was the Goddess herself watching over them.

It was a far cry from the humble and minimalistic mask she put on even within her very own room. He wondered how much of a front she had to keep even within her own privacy when she had been the head of the church. He wondered why she felt the need to posture, when his Beloved made no attempts to.

Rhea gestured to the seat across the wooden table she had set. Dimitri vaguely remembered the scent of the tea, and knew the title of it was something moon related. He politely took her invitation and poured them both a cup, he could feel the thrum of the ancient relic beside him.

“What has brought this on?” Rhea inquired, without the flowers covering the sides of her head, Dimitri could plainly see her ears were pointed as Byleth’s were.

“I… Have some questions, that I hope you may have answers to.”

She nodded, and took a polite sip from her floral cup, “Ask away, I will answer what I can.”

“Are the relic’s alive?”

The woman froze, clearly she had not been expecting that. Slowly, she set her cup down, walls were up, and Dimitri could tell he’d have to fight to get the answers he needed.

“Of course not, they are weapons gifted to the ten elites by the goddess herself.”

“Why would the Goddess give humans the bodies of her children?”

Rhea’s eyes grew cold, “How do you know that information?”

“Byleth told me, the sword of the creator is his spine, and the stone is his heart.”

“What makes you think all relics are like that?”

Dimitri frowned at her, “I am not stupid. I have seen the way they move, how they twitch. I had always thought they were magic, until Byleth told me they once were the bodies of the Nabeteans.”

The woman before him sighed, and laced her thin fingers together upon her lap, “I see.”

Dimitri remained silent, he could see the confliction upon her features, even if her ears were completely still. He wondered if that came from practice of having them her whole life, or if they simply did not emote as Byleth’s did. After a moment, she took another breath and brought her drink to her lips.

“How much did he tell you of the Nabeteans?”

“Not much, he does not know a lot himself. I know there was a war, and… Many of your people were slaughtered by humans, that is why you must hide now.” 

She nodded, “Did he tell you the nature of the war?”

“No.”

Rhea placed the ceramic down upon the small plate and met his gaze, her eyes hardened as a soldier that had seen far too much death would be, “The relics are not alive, they may have been made with the bodies of my people, but they are dead and are simply fueled by the strength of the magic that flows within.”

“That's a lie,” Dimitri immediately countered, “I’ve seen how Areadbhar moves, it has mimicked my motions before, it seems to have wants. It became upset when I considered leaving it when I hunted a moose for Byleth.”

“Then why ask a question to something you already know?”

“I want to know why you allow people to hold these weapons? Why did Sothis give them to the ten elites?”

A dry, bitter laugh escaped Rhea’s lips, her eyes narrowed enough that pupils were mere whispers within a storm of green, “They were not given, they were stolen. You know nothing of what you ask. Do not waste my time with such questions, leave.”

Shocked at the sudden shift of attitude, Dimitri fought between staying and demanding answers, and leaving before Rhea grew too angry. He remained where he was, in the end, and frowned, “Then tell me what I do not know. Nothing is adding up, why would the heroes of Fódlan steal them, how were the weapons formed? Is there a way to reverse-”

The temperature in the room rose drastically, and a primal part of him recognized he was in grave danger. 

“If there were a way to reverse what your people did to them, I would have found it hundreds of years ago.”

“ My people? The humans?”

“No, the Ten Elites, those bastards that followed Nemesis to slaughter hundreds of innocent lives.”

“Nemesis was a hero, according to the very scripture you preach!”

“Would it truly surprise you if all recorded history was a lie? Nothing but lies to save what little of my people remain still alive?”

Dimitri had nothing to say to that.

Rhea drew in a steadying breath, “This is a very painful topic for me, please, let it be. You know more than any other human does, let that be enough. Speak nothing of this to anyone else.”

He wanted nothing more than to demand further answers, yet, he recognized when one was at their limit well enough. Dimitri had been there many times, when berated on questions of the Duscur massacre. He could imagine the pain Rhea felt, recalling such horrid events. 

He wondered if Flayn had been alive then. Nothing else to say, Dimitri ducked his head and grabbed Areadbhar, “Very well.  My apologies for causing you such grief.”

Rhea nodded once, then as he stood at the door, she spoke up once more, “Take care of Areadbhar, she had once been a dear friend to my mother.”

“What was her name then?”

“... Itzel.”

Itzel.

Dimitri gave his regards, and left the woman to grieve in peace. He needed air.

The warmth and breeze he was met with the moment he stepped outside were refreshing, and eased the naustia that had begun to stir in his gut. He held Areadbhar, no, Itzel, up and frowned. Sun bounced off the bones and stone within her core. 

“For what it is worth,” he murmured to the lance, and returned her to her place at his back, “I am sorry for what happened to you.”

A thrum of energy met him, then silence. Dimitri wondered if she was angry.

He couldn't deal with the swirling emotions beginning to rise, and instead, decided to search for Byleth. His presence often served as a calming balm to his demons. When he eventually tracked the man down, he was in the greenhouse with Dedue, tending to some Duscur flowers.

Byleth’s head rose when he approached, “Hello.”

Dedue glanced up when the man spoke, nodded his greeting, then returned to work.

Dimitri sat upon the stones that lined the edges of the soil, while they tended to the plants in silence. Their calming energy soothed the pain he felt.

A glint of silver bounced from Byleth’s chest when he turned to grab the pail of water, around his neck, strung in leather, was the very warped ring Dimitri had presented him with. Byleth set the water beside Dedue’s hip, and stood to take a seat beside him. He wondered if Byleth sensed his turmoil.

Nothing was said, Byleth pressed his shoulder to his own, and they sat in silence as Dedue finished gardening.

Dimitri did not know what he’d do without him.

The brisk chill of the morning helped fight off the early exhaustion he felt, standing at the gates of the monastery while his Beloved, Seteth, and Flayn, all finished packing up for their trip. Byleth had told him the previous night that he would only be gone for two or so weeks this time, at most. Dimitri trusted him, but anticipated his love to be gone for a month.

He tugged his own cloak around him and yawned, the sun had yet to rise, though the sky was beginning its shift from deep blue to a warm pink. Byleth was equally unawake, given how Flayn was shoving him all over the place, trying her very best to get him to actually partake in their packing. 

Seteth knew a lost cause when he saw it.

Byleth escaped Flayn’s pushing when they did finally get their supplies situated upon their pegasus and wyverns. He meandered to Dimitri and thumped his head against his chest, even in the brisk air of early morning, Byleth gave off a lot of heat. Dimitri wanted nothing more than to gather the man in his arms and bring him back to bed.

He rubbed Byleth’s arms beneath the black cloak, and kissed his head, “I’ll miss you too, Beloved.”

Byleth mumbled something, though it was lost in the fabric of his nightshirt.

Dimitri pulled him back enough to meet his eyes, when Byleth’s gaze rose, Dimitri swooped down to place a gentle peck on his lips. He ran his thumb along his Beloved’s cheek when they parted, “Be safe, alright? Come back to me.”

Byleth snorted, “I will.”

He stole another kiss before Byleth left to mount Dagur, the wyvern did not appear to be any more awake than her master. Flayn’s hair was braided again, and he noticed, as they got themselves ready for flight, that Flayn’s ears were indeed pointed.

Without another word, the three took off, and disappeared into the sky, nothing but small dots in the horizon as they left to travel to a safe place. Dimitri could not help but worry for them, and his hand reached for the ring around his neck. It brought him comfort, and he knew he’d see Byleth again soon.

“They are going somewhere safe,” Rhea assured from beside him, “I spent my recovery there, they will welcome him with open arms.”

“The village?”

Rhea nodded, “Yes, I imagine they’ll take another couple days for Byleth to get used to himself, then bring him there.”

Dimitri nodded, he had a hunch, but could not remember if it was ever actually spoken aloud; “Is the village populated by… Survivors?”

The woman side-eyed him, then turned her gaze to the sky, “Yes, those that remain live there.”

He nodded, Dimitri felt no need to press her for any other information, so he took his leave in silence. When morning came proper, he would return back to his kingdom. There was much work to always be done, and he wanted to follow up with Claude on the supposed bandits.

Rhea would be acting Archbishop in Byleth’s absence. Dimitri liked her well enough, he respected her for what she had done, and how she had helped guide himself and many others into the adults they were today. Yet… He prayed she did not undo the hard work his Beloved planted.

This was a special kind of torture.

Sylvain sat across from him in the study, his feet kicked back upon the table, and a catty grin crossed his face. Perhaps he should have taken Felix’s advice to run an hour ago, would it be rude to leave now? If he had to sit through one more lewd description, Dimitri was fairly sure he’d throttle the man before him.

He should have known better than to ask sexual pointers from Sylvain.

“I’m only trying to help,” Sylvain assured, an absolute bold-faced lie, “Lots of people like biting.”

He was done. 

He was so, so done. 

If he had to hear anything else about spanking, roleplay, or whatever fuck else Sylvain had cooking in his brain; he was going to loose it. Dimitri wasn't nieve, he knew very well of the more… Experimental side of sex. Certainly thought about engaging Byleth in such things when in the private space of his own room. 

He had only asked if he knew how to ease discomfort during penetration. Now he knew far more than he ever wanted to about the man’s sex escipades.

Dimitri was thankful he had not mentioned anything he had done with Felix, Dimitri probably would have actually punched him.

When the door flew open, Dimitri thanked the Goddess for the intervention, though reconsidered his thanks when he took note of the woman in the room. Cathrine had never once visited him in the castle, not that he had minded any. They were not really close, but he appreciated her dedication to Byleth.

Yet the look on her face, one of actual fear, stuck a cold nerve within him. He rose immediately, Sylvain, even as tone deaf as he could be, did not comment and stood as well.

“Your Majesty, Lady Rhea requested your presence immediately, there is an emergency at Garreg Mach.”

“What happened, is she alright?”

Cathrine straightened, she darted a glance to Sylvain, then met his eye again, “She is, however your presence is needed as soon as possible. I don't know the specifics, however Seteth and Flayn have returned from their journey.”

“What of Byleth?”

Cathrine lowered her eyes, and that spoke louder than any word. He pushed past her, and immediately called for Dedue, they would depart without delay. 

What happened? 

Byleth promised he would return to him, he swore he would. The man never broke his word unless dire circumstances fell upon him. Dimitri could not live another five years without him, not now. Not after all that happened.

Dedue seemed to have gotten word of the situation, as when he appeared he already stood in full armor, and had Dimitri’s in hand. He thanked the man, left to change, grabbed Itzel, and in an afterthought, grabbed the journal Byleth’s father had written. He still hadn't gotten around to reading it.

By the time he had reached the stables, Dedue was mounted up with Felix and Sylvain beside him, both in armor and armed as well. No words had to be spoken, Dimitri was so thankful for his friends. He hopped upon Juniper Axe’s saddle, and they left without further hesitation, Cathrine on their heels.

Dimitri rode straight through, despite Dedue’s advice not to. They were upon uncertain times, if he knew Byleth was safe, he would have heeded the warning, but he could not risk sleeping if that meant precious time would be lost tracking down their former professor.

Even still, a day and a half passed before they reached the monastery.

Rhea met them on the stairs to the entrance hall, her gaze swept over them, then she spoke, “Your Majesty, come with me.”

Dimitri dismounted Juniper Axe, handed his reins off to Dedue, and followed the acting Archbishop through the halls. They eventually arrived at the second floor, in the infirmary. Seteth and Flayn were there, they looked… Bad.

Flayn was unconscious, bandages covered her arms and a part of her shoulder, Seteth looked worse. From what he could see of the skin behind the bandages, it was bruised and scabbed. Some areas of his arm did not look right, as if they were misshapen. Perhaps his arms had been broken?

Horror swallowed his lungs, if Byleth was not with them… Then was he…?

No. He refused to believe that.

Byleth was fine, he had to be. He promised.

Rhea sat upon the windowsill, and laced her fingers upon her lap, “Byleth has been captured.”

“By who?”

“We do not know. Seteth?”

The man sat up, something that caused him great pain, from his expression. Rhea swept to his side and helped support him with extra pillows.

“We… Were attacked. It had been dark, we were in our true forms then. Byleth was practicing flight when he was shot from the sky,” Seteth brought a bandaged hand to his head, and closed his eyes, “Flayn had been shot first, then Byleth, then I. When we landed there were humans, I think, they had these strange weapons with them, and their mage- he could… He could block our magic. He prevented Byleth from turning back time, somehow.”

Dimitri leant against the table for support as Seteth continued, “He screamed as much at us. Then they… They were trophy hunters, or something akin, I think. They tried to skin Flayn, Byleth was strong enough to break free and protect her. They- Its a blur. I think they had drugged us. Byleth managed to free Flayn and I, and begged us to leave. We could get help. Flayn she… She wasn't breathing then, I carried her back and we managed to save her.”

His breath came in short gasps, his lungs constricted upon themselves, he couldn't breathe. His world spun.

“So you left him there, with those damn poachers?”

Seteth bared his teeth, canines longer than any human’s glinted in the evening light, “What choice did I have? Flayn was dying.”

Dimitri could feel the table splinter in his grip, but it meant nothing, the only thing he felt was white-hot rage, “You left him to die.”

“I tried to protect him, there were too many, we could not use magic, we could not transform. I left to get help and save my daughter, if I stayed, we all would have died!” Seteth’s voice cracked, and Dimitri counted to twenty. 

He would not become that beast again, he would not lose himself to anger. 

He couldn't.

“I will send word to the others, and we will mount a search party for him.”

Rhea rose, “You will do no such thing. I already have the knights looking for Byleth, or a dragon. If you tell your classmates what happened word will spread, and we all will be in danger.”

“Do you truly think so little of them?” Dimitri spat, “That they would endanger our professor, that they would endanger innocent lives? They love Byleth as I do, and they will not be left in the dark while Byleth could die.”

Her eyes narrowed, “As Archbishop, I forbid you from contacting them, this will be handled by the church.”

Dimitri laughed bitterly and scoffed at her, “As your King, you have no authority over me or my actions.”

“You would dare go against the church of Serios?”

“Yes, I will go against your church, if it means Byleth will be found before he is skinned and displayed like a trophy buck.”

The woman blinked, yet before she could speak again, Seteth interrupted her, “He is right, Rhea. We need to find him, fast. If they know what he is, who, he is, this could endanger us all.”

“Fine,” She resigned, “You have my permission.”

“I did not need it to begin with,” Dimitri hissed and slammed the door to the infirmary behind him.

If those bastards dared to touch his Beloved, they would pay. 

He would kill them all, every last one of them.

Chapter Text

Within a week, the monastery was full of people. 

Dimitri kept to himself, he was far too stressed to socialize, but took comfort in his rotating group of friends that kept him company as his mind raced. Dedue was the most frequent, silent beside him as Dimitri sat on the pier and gazed out over the water. His presence helped soothe his terror, every time he thought he could manage himself, the whispers would come back.

This was his fault. He should never have let Byleth go alone.

What a disgrace he was. A King reduced to a mere shell when his lover disappeared.

He felt pathetic. Helpless in the face of such a monumental problem, that he could barely make it through a single page of work before he lost focus.

Dorothea helped him the most.

She arrived with her own fiancé five days after the letters were sent, they had flown in on pegasi as soon as they heard. Petra tried to help, but she did not have the same way with words her future wife did. Dorothea’s ‘tough love’ helped keep him functional and bathed, while also doing the bare minimum of his responsibilities as a king.

When Lady Rhea called for a war council, everyone filed into a room too small for the lot of them, yet it had held them once before, and could do it again. Rhea sat in Byleth’s seat, and steepled her fingers under her chin, Dimitri pushed down the irritation at her simply taking Byleth’s position.

“I assume everyone present knows the matter at hand?”

Felix spoke first, his arms crossed and glare venomous, “Byleth was captured, Seteth and Flayn almost died, and you have been keeping secrets.”

Dimitri shared his sentiment.

Mercedes did not, “Felix! Come now, do not be so harsh, I am sure there is a reason, right Lady Rhea?”

The woman faltered momentarily, then nodded. She raised her chin and stepped into the mask of a ruler, “What will be told in this room today will go against what many of you have learned in your time at the academy and what you were raised to trust. It matters not if you believe my words, for they are true nonetheless. By telling you all this, you must swear to secrecy for the sake of many innocent lives, including mine, Seteth’s, and Flayn’s.”

The room was thick with silence, so she continued, “To start, it must be said that I am not human, nor are Seteth, Flayn, or Byleth. We are an ancient race known as the Nabateans, the crests that those of you may bear, have come from lines of those that have consumed the flesh and blood of my people.”

Sylvain looked as if he were going to be sick, “What happened to the whole, blessed by the Goddess bullshit you’ve spewed?”

“It… is a lie. Those relics many of you wield, they are… They were crafted from the corpses of those slain by Nemesis, the King of Liberation; and his elites. Those crest stones that sit within your weapons? They are the hearts of those that died.”

Not a single word was spoken, nausea hung heavy in the air. Dimitri spared a glance at Claude, his relic was not on him, yet he knew it was not far. Dimitri had sent it back to him, when the war had ended, Claude had it at his side ever since.

The ever-cheerful man’s mask had cracked, his skin was pale, and while the smile remained, Dimitri did not think he was holding the knowledge being dropped upon him as easily as he attempted to seem.

“Why?” Annette’s voice was so small, so scared, “ Why would you keep that from us? How- How could you let us wield the bodies of the dead like that?”

Rhea did not meet her gaze, “There are Nabateans that survived the massacre, they live far away from humans, where your kind could never hope to reach. If knowledge of how the weapons were made, how crests were gained had become known, we feared those remaining would be hunted down and killed.”

“We had hoped,” She continued, “That by letting you continue to believe Nemesis was a hero, instead of the monster he truly was, it would allow for my people to go into hiding, to be safe. Ideally, this would never have been parted upon you.”

“So, what? ” Felix’s tone was level, calm almost. Yet his voice rose with each word he spoke, “You would have rather us believe the blood that gives us our crests was a blessing, and not the result of some bloodthirsty monsters? You would rather us use the corpses of your people, than tell us the truth? Why did you not keep them locked away? Why would you allow a whole society to exist based around them?!”

Rhea narrowed her gaze at him, “It is not ideal, but what other choice did we have then? They lived in exchange for keeping our people secret.”

“You can't just keep something like that from us!” Lysithea exclaimed, her small fists beat against the table, “The dead are to be honored, and yet you’d have us use them a-as mere tools? At least tell us what they once had been, if I’d known I would have been far more respectful to mine!”

Murmurs of agreement circled around the table, Rhea let them for a couple moments until she stood, and all fell still.

“I understand your frustration and anger, we can discuss whether or not it had been the right choice later. Now we have to focus on finding Byleth.”

“Are… Are they going to turn him into… One of the relics?” Linhardt’s hand covered his mouth, likely still attempting to process what all had been told. 

“We do not know the nature of who attacked him. They could be nothing more than trophy hunters, looking to skin, declaw, and dehorn him.”

Dimitri moved his hands from the table to his lap in fear of splintering the wood in his grasp. What if they had killed Byleth already? What if his corpse was just in the middle of a forest somewhere, left to rot? 

Dedue’s hand upon his shoulder was steadying.

“Then we’ll do the same to them!” Caspar jumped from his seat, “They won't get away with this, I’ll keep looking until I find them!”

The fist positive emotion crossed Rhea’s face, a small smile, though she gestured for the warrior to sit back down, “Calm yourself, Caspar. We all share the sentiment, however, we must also take into consideration that these may not have been mere bandits and hunters. If they knew of my people, and knew what they could craft from my people, Byleth would be in truly grave danger.”

“Oh, but skinning him for some pretty new jackets is perfectly acceptable?” Sylvain spat.

“He would survive. Our kind are… Very hardy. We can live through many things that would kill anyone else. I would never wish such torture upon anyone, however, believe me when I say—we best pray they were hunters, and not something else.”

“By survive, ” Linhardt spoke, “You mean he’d sleep for another five years, yes?”

“Perhaps longer depending on how severe the damage would be.” She stated, “There is more, we do have a reason for being so concerned with who had captured Byleth.”

“Other than the fact he could be skinned alive?” Hilda drawled, she leant back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. 

Rhea ignored her, and continued, “Byleth is a Nabatean, yes, but he is also the incarnation of the Goddess herself, Sothis.”

Claude barked out a laugh, harsh and sour, “You're shitting us, you have to be shitting us. The magic lady in the sky, was one, real, and two, our professor this whole ass time?”

“Watch how you speak of the Goddess, Claude,” Rhea snapped, “And yes, you do not need to know the details, none of you do. Know the Goddess exists within Byleth, and because of that power he wields, if the people who had captured him found his true nature; we all would be in danger.”

“With all due respect Lady Rhea,” He bit back, “I could say the same of how you address me. It’d sure be a shame to have a falling out with the King of Almyra, wouldn't it?”

Rhea massaged the side of her head, “Very well, King Reigan. Regardless, speed and secrecy is paramount.”

Seteth had remained at the far end of the table, silent, through the entire meeting. When he rose to his feet, and leant heavily on a crutch, the table fell silent and gave him their attention.

“Rhea, we need to involve our siblings,” He grit out, “Macuil and Indech could help us, I do not believe they could have been poachers. My memory is vague, yes, but our magic was sealed. No normal mage has that power.”

“Well, if Byleth is Sothis apparently, I guess it would make sense you two are saints,” Linhardt murmured, and the table exploded into questions and chaos.

Dimitri tuned them out, his mind spiraled. He needed air.

Without a word, he stood from the table and left the room, if he had stayed he probably would have snapped at someone unjustly. He leant against the outer wall of the war room, he could still hear shouting, and there were so many questions. Dimitri was thankful they were muffled by the heavy wooden door though.

He brought his hand to his chest, and fiddled with the silver ring around his neck. It brought him some semblance of comfort, when his mind escaped him to a dark place. Visions of Byleth dead and gutted on the ground swarmed his mind, Byleth had called out to him for help, and he never came.

He abandoned him, when the man needed him most.

“Dimitri.”

He jolted at the sound of his name, and glanced up to see Dedue standing in the doorway, he closed the door behind him, and nodded his head to the stairs. Dimitri eagerly followed, and left the noise of the arguing behind him.

“What is the plan?” He inquired, Dimitri recognized they were headed to the greenhouse.

“Seteth and Rhea are arguing over involving others of their kind in the search. Apparently, there is bad blood between Lady Rhea and the other two saints, Seteth stated he will make the journey, though he is very weak now.”

Dimitri nodded, and held the glass door open for his friend, then sat on the stones while Dedue gathered what he’d need for gardening.

“...Is Byleth truly Sothis?”

Dimitri propped his cheek up on a fist and gazed over at the forget-me-knots Byleth had planted, “Yes, and no. It is complicated, to my understanding. He was born dead, and his mother carried Sothis’ heart, the crest stone, within her. To save him, Rhea put it into Byleth. It brought him to life, albeit with no heartbeat, but it also somehow awoke her? I… Do not get it fully myself.”

Dedue nodded, “I see.”

“If Rhea does not mount a search soon, I will do it myself,” Dimitri groused, “Each day wasted arguing is a day we could have saved Byleth.”

“He is strong, Dimitri,” Dedue spoke, “We will find him, our friends share the same sentiment. That is why they are so angry, they care for him too.”

Dimitri nodded, it… Helped, knowing he was not the only one furious with the situation. He could not lose himself to his anger, not again. Such blind rage made him sloppy, and now more than ever he needed his mind sharp. One wrong move could be the end of Byleth, if they were not cautious.

He was not sure how long had passed until the door to the greenhouse was kicked open, “You stupid boar!”

Ah, good to see Felix was still acting as usual.

“You knew this, all of this? The whole time?” He shouted, his arms spread out in a show of exasperation, but was shoved aside by Sylvain. The man did not speak, though the hollowed look in his eyes told plenty. 

The greenhouse was not meant to hold so many people, and yet, the entirety of the former students of the officers academy filed in, pushed against each other as they tried to make room.

Claude scratched at his stubble, “Well, this certainly had been a more eventful gathering than anticipated. We are apparently going to find two saints? And have them help us save Byleth? Or something?”

“And one of the saints… Just so happens to be in Sreng desert, where we last saw our suspicious group traveling toward…” Ingrid bit her nail.

“Lorenz told me about Emile, is it true he was seen with those people? Do you… Do you think he might have had something to do with this?” Mercedes was a strong woman, yet the way her voice wavered spoke of the emotion swirling beneath her words.

Dimitri ran a hand down his face, “We do not know for sure if the potential bandits we had been tracking have anything to do with this, nor if the corpses Claude’s people found are related. As such, we can not say for sure if the Death Knight is involved. And if he is, there is no way to know how or why.”

He stood, the people stepped back to make room for him, “We are going to find the saints, then?”

“That's the plan,” Linhardt spoke, “Seteth will guide us, and hopefully, keep us from getting eaten by angry dragons.”

“And Lady Rhea?”

“Will remain at the monastery,” Claude interjected, “Her presence would probably piss them off further, if our own blood doesn't do us in, apparently.”

Ah, right.

Blaiddyd had been one of the ten elites. Dimitri pushed it from his mind, he could wallow in self-hatred later, now with a game plan in motion, they needed to leave. And they needed to leave now.

“Very well, everyone, suit up. Make sure your gear and weapons are in top form, we will depart as soon as possible. Pack rations, we know not how long this journey will be.”

Instead of going straight north, they went east instead.

Dimitri rode beside Seteth, as he led them from the monastery. He was not well enough to fly, apparently, so his wyvern took to walking. The travel was slow, but it was progress nonetheless.

“Are we not going to Sreng?”

“No, not yet,” Seteth explained, “We are going to where we were attacked, there may be some sort of clue as to what we are dealing with. And, if they were trophy hunters, Byleth could… He could be there.”

The thought made Dimitri nauseous. He was glad though, that Seteth was thinking of all possibilities. So, he nodded, and remained silent as they traveled. 

“So, you can turn into a dragon?” Annette trotted her horse forward to match Seteth’s pace, the man stifled a sigh.

“Sure.”

“How come you never became a dragon before? Is it like a curse? Can you only be a dragon in the full moon?”

Seteth drew a hand down his face, “I never transformed in order to protect my identity, it is not a curse, and I am not a werewolf.”

“Why don't you turn into a dragon now then? Wouldn't it be faster than us just trotting along here?”

“I am injured, even if I were to take my true form now, I would be unable to fly, much less carry all of you.”

When Annette opened her mouth again, Dimitri took pity on the man and cut her off, “That is enough for now Annette, let us focus on finding Byleth.”

She stuck her lip out in a pout, but relented and slowed her steed to match the pace of the rest of their calvary behind them. Seteth shot a thankful glance at him, and Dimitri nodded. 

He would not keep them from pestering Seteth for answers forever, but, when the man could barely sit up straight and still led the hunt for Byleth… Dimitri respected him. And allowed him that reprieve. Behind them, his friends spoke in hushed whispers, many confused or in disbelief at the knowledge dropped upon them, Dimitri recalled how he felt when he first began to learn of Byleth’s nature.

It had been… Rough. 

Though looking back on it now, many of what Byleth has told him filled in gaps and questions he had for years. 

They set up camp when the sun fell, Dimitri was not hungry, though was forced to eat by Dedue and Ashe. When they were satisfied he wouldn't starve himself, they let him sit before the fire in peace. They shouldn't be stopping. What if Byleth was still alive, barely holding on? Their selfish rest could cost the man his life.

Dimitri buried his head in his hands.

It would do no good to think like that, as desperate as he was to find Byleth, he knew those traveled with him were human. They all had needs, pushing them past their limits was cruel. He couldnt be like that again, it had led to too many people dying unjust deaths. Dimitri refused to let anyone fall this time.

Seteth eased himself beside him, and leant back against the tough hide of his wyvern when it curled behind them.

Dimitri raised his head and spared him a glance, Seteth did not meet his eye, instead looked over the fire himself. They were quiet for some time, though eventually Seteth broke the silence.

“We’ll find him.”

“I pray we find him alive,” Dimitri murmured.

“We will,” Seteth stated, his brows furrowed, “I worry what state he may be in, but he is still alive. I know that much.”

“How?”

The man frowned and scratched at the bandages covering his chest, “Call it a hunch, I suppose. We are connected, in a way. It is hard to explain, I know he is alive because I have not felt his death.”

“That makes no sense,” Dimitri grunted.

Seteth chuckled, “Yes, well, I am old. Words can escape me sometimes. Our kind are intertwined in a way humans are not.”

“Because you are all Sothis’ children?”

“Yes, and no,” He continued, his eyes narrowed when he noticed the growing crowd forming around him as he spoke, “Rhea, Macuil, Indech, and I are the only direct descendants of her, and Flayn, as my daughter.”

“Then why was Sothis hailed as a Goddess?” Claude inquired with a yawn while he leant back against Nendruil’s snoring body.

“Simple, she was our leader, and the strongest of us. So, she was our Goddess,” Seteth scratched his chin, “It was less of our kind truly worshipping her, and more of something akin to your kind’s kings or emperors. She was our ruler and protector.

“Those of us connected by blood are bound together. We can feel each other's presence, it is not something so easily explained past that,” He finished.

“Then wouldn’t you have known Byleth was still alive when he was a baby?” Claude leaned forward and rested his arms upon his knees.

“Read Jeralt’s diary?”

“You bet.”

Seteth sighed, “Byleth had not become one with Sothis then, when Jerlat used the fire to escape. It was not until he regained his strength and true form that he could be felt by us. Before that, he may as well have been human. Plus, Rhea was the only one who knew what she had done then, I did not realize until much later.”

Felix groaned, “So you knew our professor was a damn Goddess the whole time too?”

Claude held up a hand, “Hey, that is news to me too. I only knew his heart didn't beat and Rhea did some weird stuff to him when he was a baby; so he didn't feel emotions or something.”

“Byleth could always feel just like any of us,” Dimitri defended despite himself, “He just did not know how to express them.”

Claude raised a brow in his direction, “How did you learn that?”

“Byleth told me himself, the man grew up in a band of mercenaries, hardly the best example of emotional expressions there,” He snorted, “Many mistook his lack of social awareness for being numb.”

“Ah.”

Something akin to guilt washed over Claude’s features, and his eyes left Dimitri to gaze into the fire without another word. It was odd seeing the man express himself so openly, perhaps he felt comfortable around them? Or perhaps maintaining his persona was too much work at the time.

Dimitri rested his fingers against the silver around his neck and took comfort in it’s presence. He had to trust that Seteth was right, Byleth was still alive. It was something he could cling to.

They rested, and continued their travel when the sun peeked over the horizon.

Time passed in a blur, Dimitri couldn't remember how many days had passed since they started their trip. It wasn't long, he knew that much, however it felt like eons. Seteth held a hand up, and they stopped as they neared the edge of a forest. 

It was not the same one Byleth had gone to, obviously, yet, there was a similar sort of dread attached to it. Nausea bubbled in his gut, even without having entered it yet. Where were they?

“This is the place,” Seteth stated, “Follow me and do not falter your step. The fear will pass.”

They filed into a single line, and entered the forest. Dimitri forced all of his attention on Seteth’s back, as horror and shadows danced among his vision. Memories of blood and screams rang through his mind while a heavy mist descended upon them as a blanket.

Seteth spoke, loud and clear, “No matter what you see or hear, keep moving forward and do not hesitate.”

They did as told. Dimitri wanted to look behind him, to make sure the others were following, but he feared if he did, his momentum would falter, and he’d be lost. Dimitri did not know what sort of curse surrounded this forest, but it was unlike magic Dimitri had ever seen or experienced before. Was this the Nabatean’s doing?

The fog turned into suffocating smoke, fires were lit by the flame Emperor, she laughed as the people Dimitri loved were slaughtered around him. 

That wasn't what happened.

Byleth called out to him, he was screaming in pain. He was alive, he was here. Dimitri did not even have a chance to turn toward the voice when Seteth snapped him from it, “Do. Not. Falter.”

“But Byleth-”

“It is an illusion, keep moving.”

He was begging him to save him, free him from the torture inflicted upon him. Byleth’s voice was so frail, so weak. He was barely holding on. Byleth asked why he was ignoring him, why he was abandoning him to suffer.

It was an illusion. It wasn't real.

Dimitri hung his head and kept moving. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sylvain’s horse begin to stray from their line.

“Sylvain! Do not leave, this is magic, it is an illusion!”

The man’s breaths were heavy, conflict spread upon his features, “But-”

“Return to the line, Sylvain. That is an order. ”

Dimitri feared he had faltered too long, yet, the man nodded and returned to them. No longer straying from the path. They continued on.

Occasionally he would hear one of his companions shout to another, drawing them back to the group so they did not wander. When he raised his head to check on Seteth, the man appeared to be wholly unbothered. As were their mounts.

Was this magic meant to keep humans away from their home? Were they going to the village?

The mist gave way to a lush grotto. A stream passed through it, and several small cabins dotted the riverbank. There was a waterfall nearby, he could hear the thunder of crashing water. The tension dissipated, and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

Seteth turned around and did a head count, satisfied everyone made it, his pace became more relaxed as he led them down the hill to where the little homes were stationed.

“Is this the village?”

“No, it is a temporary home for my kind while we mature. You have seen first hand how… Disastrous, it can be.”

Dimitri nodded, “So you bring your children here?”

“Young teens mostly, during their second shift until they gain control of themselves, then, we return to the village as our true selves.”

“Are… There any here now?”

“No, we have sent word to keep the young away for the time being.”

Made sense, if humans could get past such horrors once, they likely had the means to do it twice. As they neared the hidden valley, an odd smell washed over him. Akin to blood, yet more sour. Dimitri had not smelled something like it before.

Seteth slid off his wyvern then, Dimitri was quick to follow suit, as were the others. They passed through the untouched valley, no signs of struggle or fight. Then, Seteth neared the edge of the forest again, he waited until they all caught up with him, then stepped within. 

There was no mist this time, no illusions. Instead, as they neared their mark, the stench of blood hung thick in the air. Dimitri’s chest tightened in his panic. What sort of disaster would meet them, what state was Byleth in?

The once tall forest gave way to broken branches, and splintered bark. Massive trees reduced to logs as if something, or more accurately, someone, fell upon them. Blood stained many of the spires of wood dark.

“Yikes,” Claude stood beside him, his brows furrowed as he looked over the bloodied scene. 

Dimitri was unsure if he should be relieved Byleth was not there, or more worried than before.

They spread out, Dimitri found deep gashes in the mud, bushes and grass torn in a fierce struggle. He found a strip of skin, small white scales dotted the messy attempt to skin whatever this had belonged to. The scales shone akin to pearls. They reminded him of the ones he had seen Byleth grow before.

“Seteth, would these be of any help?”

The man limped over and knelt beside him, his fingers brushed over the scales and he growled, “No, these were Flayn’s.”

“Flayn has scales as well?”

“Yes,” He grunted and pushed himself to his feet, “Byleth’s would have been far more large anyhow.”

Good to note.

“Check this out!” Caspar shouted from somewhere off to Dimitri’s left. 

Seteth meandered over to track him down, Dimitri upon his heels. When they found him, he held a massive feather over his head. It was a pearlescent color, white, yet if tilted the right way it shone a brilliant green.

The feather was as tall as Caspar was.

Seteth approached him, “Did you find any others?”

“Nope, just this! Can you believe birds get this big?”

Seteth, the poor man looked as if he were suffering, pulled a hand down his face and chose not to comment on that, instead, he addressed the rest of them, “Keep an eye out for feathers of this size and color, they belong to Byleth.”

“I thought dragons were all scaly, like big lizards,” Caspar justified, an embarrassed blush spread across his face.

“Many are, yes, but not all.”

“Are you scaly?”

Seteth rolled his eyes, “Yes.”

They continued the search, more blood, Seteth found a particularly interesting patch of ground, yet, no other signs of Byleth.

“They were not poachers,” Seteth growled, his hand curled into a fist over the earth he had his hand upon.

The group gathered around him, none spoke.

“It is as we feared, the ones that attacked us, knew exactly what we were.”

“How can you tell?” Dedue’s even voice helped steady Dimitri from the swirl of emotions that coursed through him.

“The magic used, this is long forgotten magic,” He lifted his hand from the patch of earth, “If they had been poachers, they would not have bothered to carry his body on top of taking his horns or whatever they could get their greedy hands upon. He would have been far too large to risk being seen with.”

“So then, who took him?”

“There are many possibilities, however, we now know they likely intend to use him and create a weapon.” Seteth stood, when he wobbled, Dedue helped keep the man upright. They began to walk back toward their mounts.

“What do we do?”

“We go to Indech, then to Macuil.”

Ingrid bit her thumb, “Do you think they’ll help us?”

“Indech will,” Seteth’s voice was firm, “He bears no ill will toward your kind, not anymore. Macuil… May be more difficult to convince, I hope if we have Indech with us, he will be more likely to listen to reason.”

They departed, and Caspar kept the feather around his shoulders like an oversized scarf. Apparently it was warm. Dimitri was not surprised, with the heat his Beloved exuded, that even parts of him would still bring warmth to those he cared for. The trek from the forest was easier, no mist nor ghosts to haunt them. Dimitri wondered why.

Their travels took them north.

Even as the world blurred around him, Dimitri was acutely aware of how much time had passed. Seteth sat straighter, his wounds were healing, yet as they made their way toward the Rhodos Coast, Dimitri feared if they spent any longer on this journey Byleth would be killed for sure.

What was stopping them, really?

Why wait this long to kill him? What were they after?

Did the ritual take time? Did he need to be alive for it? How were the weapons made?

Dimitri was thankful Byleth still lived, according to Seteth, yet his treacherous mind could not help but be filled with concern. What sort of place was he in? Was he scared? Were they torturing him? Maybe trying to get information from him?

The more he thought, the angrier he became.

“Dimitri.”

“What?” He snarled, though his anger faltered when he realized it was Seteth who spoke, he hung his head, “My… Apologies.”

Seteth did not respond, and only slid off his wyvern, Dimitri took the hint and did the same. They had come to another dense forest, though no ill feeling surrounded this one. A simple forest, nothing more, it seemed. 

Seteth took post a bit further away from the group as they all dismounted and gathered their weapons, in case a fight were to break out. Dimitri hoped it was not the case, yet a part of him welcomed the chance to take his anger out on something, anything.

He feared he would lash out sooner than later if he did not find an outlet.

When they were prepared, Seteth led them and their steeds through the trees and along a river.

“Indech guards a temple hidden here,” Seteth explained, “He may want to test your mettle in combat, so be prepared.”

Dimitri pulled his silver lance from his back, Itzel safely upon Juniper Axe’s flank, he had brought her with, but still had no intention of using her. It seemed the others had similar plans, going for their silver or blessed weapons over their holy relics.

Just as Seteth said, in the distance, through the trees, Dimitri could make out a towering spire, sitting in the middle of a lake. Lake Teutates, if he recalled correctly. 

As they approached the lake, the land became blanketed in heavy mist. It did not come with the terror they experienced previously, yet dread nonetheless hung heavy within the air. Seteth approached the water, and dipped his hand down to the bank, jagged green scales burst from his arm, as black talons gripped the soft mud.

A path pushed from the lake. Stepping stones carved in intricate patterns rose from the dark water. Seteth shook off his scales, and his hand returned to a human shape. 

“Come, he is inside.”

They left their mounts behind and walked the path to the temple. 

“Check that thing out,” Leonie gasped, her feet strayed closer to the center of the path as a shadow passed beneath them. Glimmering spots of blue flickered on the creature, like fireflies on a warm summer’s night.

The creature took no interest in them, and continued it’s lazy lap around the tower. Dimitri had never seen such a thing before.

“It should not harm you,” Seteth stated, “They, like Indech, are guardians of this lake. Unless your intentions are ill, then they will drown you.”

“Oh, is that all?” Linhardt drawled, and like Leonie, took careful steps to remain as far from the edge as possible.

Another one of the creatures appeared and passed beneath them, undisturbed by their presence. 

Dimitri felt a surge of pride at his fellow warriors, not a single one of them had ill intent. Like him, they only desired to save Byleth from the monsters that captured him.

Seteth stood on the last tile while the rest of them filed up the stairs to the entrance of the tower. When he stepped from the stone, the whole path returned to the water without so much of a ripple. Another glowing creature circled the stairs, though made no move to attack them.

Seteth pushed open the massive stone doors, and gestured them inside.

The temple reeked of moss and algae. Even without having direct contact with the water, the floors and the walls were wet and cool to the touch, as if the very stone bled water. It was dark, so Linhardt, Lysithea, and Annette took to creating small balls of fire to light their way. 

Murals had been carved into the stone, many had been worn from the water flowing from the cracks, yet faint indentations remained. Lindhardt was the first to approach one, he held up a light and illuminated a carving of a massive turtle, carrying a city upon it’s back.

“Is that Indech?” He inquired, as his free hand brushed over the stone.

“A glorification of him, yes.”

“So, he never carried a city upon his back?”

Seteth snorted, “No, we are big, but not that big. In truth, it shows when Indech had carried supplies to help humans build their cities.”

“So you got along with humans, before the war,” Dimitri frowned.

“At the time then, yes.”

Dimitri had nothing else to say to that, so they continued further in. 

Seteth led them down a series of stairs, water fell upon them from all sides as they walked down the spiraling stone. Finally, they reached a massive room.

In the center was what looked to be a tomb. Yet it was surrounded by glowing water on all sides, only a thin wood bridge reached out upon it. How did this exist under the lake? How did the weight of the water not crush the stone, or overflow the chamber?

Seteth stood at the base of the wooden bridge, and called out, “Indech!”

A drop of water could be heard, and the thunder of the waterfalls stopped. The room became quiet, too quiet.

The water rippled, and folded in upon itself, creating a small vortex of swirling and crashing waves. Water lapped at their feet as it overflowed from the underground lake.

Then, all was still. 

From the water, a head rose, smooth and dark. Two horns curved along the creature’s jaw, and a single one curled from the tip of the nose. Two black eyes peered down upon them, and Dimitri could feel a thrum of power as the dragon rose to its full height. The dragon tilted it’s head at them, and Dimitri tightened his grip upon his lance.

Yet, it seemed the dragon bore no ill will, as instead of attacking them, the being’s lips split into a… Smile? Dimitri hoped it was a smile, with so many small sharp teeth bared.

“Cihol, it has been quite some time since we’ve spoken, my brother. Who are all these?” The dragon’s voice was deep and thundered through the cavern, almost more felt than heard. Yet, there was an odd kindness to the tone, Dimitri did not release his lance, but lowered it.

“They are friends,” Seteth explained, and glanced over his shoulder at them, “You can put your weapons away.”

They did as such, though Dimitri felt insecure without his lance in hand. So while he no longer had it primed to attack, keeping it in hand eased his worry.

“We have come to ask for your help,” Seteth continued, and turned to face the dragon, “One of our own has been captured.”

Indech’s (?) head lowered, concern graced the scales features, “Is your young alright?”

“She is stable, but resting. It was Sothis’ incarnation.”

Black eyes widened, and his mouth opened just enough to show the rows of teeth within his maw, “So I had not imagined her return.”

“Yes, and no. Byleth is his name, he is his own person. It is not a true return of our mother.”

Indech hummed, a deep rumbling sound, rocks scattered to the ground from above them, “I see, my power is not what it once was, Cihol.”

“Neither is mine,” Seteth admitted, “But we must try. These humans are willing to risk their lives to save him.”

Indech’s head rose, and he towered over their group. Dimitri could feel Dedue and Felix press against his sides, while the group shrunk under the dragon’s gaze. He lowered it and sniffed them, then a deep chuckle resonated from his throat.

“I see! How delightful, why, I have not seen such love for our own in quite some time,” Indech laughed.

“Byleth was once their professor, and helped end a war among them.”

Indech nodded, “How curious. I did not feel his presence until rather recent though?”

“It… It's complicated.”

A pregnant pause settled over them, and Indech snorted, distaste poured from his voice, “Serios?”

“...Yes.”

He clicked his tongue, “When will that child learn?”

Seteth sighed, but did not respond any further. 

“Very well, I shall help you in your endeavor to save your professor. The temple has been rather stuffy as of late anyhow.”

“Will it be safe without you guarding it?” Seteth inquired.

“Of course. Frankly, I have simply been relaxing here, engaging the odd mortal that would come my way. Humans are so funny, Cihol, why, I had one in ah… Maybe fifty years ago? What a strange group, they had gone fishing, and caught one of my guards by accident.”

Seteth let out a long suffering sigh, and ushered them back up the stairs, “Lets go, unless you want to drown, we best leave the temple before Indech does.”

“Wait hold on, what happened to testing out mettle?” Felix demanded, and Sylvain had to resort to pushing the man up the stairs. 

Indech laughed, “We can battle later, little warrior.”

The water began to rise and Seteth cursed, “Indech you idiot!”

Their jog broke into a run, as they scrambled to escape the rapidly rising water. They tore through the hall and managed to get out just as the lake swallowed the temple into its depths. They were not inside it, but they also were now all stuck swimming in the middle of the lake.

Seteth growled something in a tongue Dimitri did not recognize, and kicked over to the weaker swimmers of their group to support them. 

Something brushed their feet, and Dimitri prepared to strike. Yet as it pushed against them, the water gave way to solid ground. They were lifted from the water upon the back of the dragon’s shell.

Indech craned his head over the shell, and gazed over the group, then laughed, “My apologies. I forgot the temple would sink when I left, I got a bit over-excited.”

They were ferried to the edge of the water, and slid down his neck onto relatively solid ground. When the last of them left his back, a burst of energy thrummed through the air as light surrounded the dragon. It split open, and the scales washed away to leave pale skin. 

After just a moment, a man stood before them. His hair was messy, and a deeper shade of green than Seteth’s, though his eyes were the same. The man’s grin stretched across his face, “It has been quite some time since I’ve taken this form.”

Seteth cleared his throat, and offered a simple tunic to the bare man, “Ah, thank you brother.”

He slipped it over his head, briefly, when his curled hair had been pressed close to his head, Dimitri noticed a pair of pointed ears peeking from the dark green. Indech approached them, and inclined his head once more, as if taking them in truth for the first time. 

His eyes moved to Dimitri and Dedue, “Wow, I didn't know you came that tall.”

Neither he nor Dedue knew how to respond other than a vaguely nervous wheeze.

“Do not patronize them, Indech,” Seteth groused, “Come, we must make haste to Macuil.”

Indech froze, and turned to Seteth with raised brows, “Do you really think bringing them to him is a good idea?”

“We have little choice, if my fears are correct, we will need all the help we can get rescuing Byleth.”

“I… See. Is the village safe?”

“Yes, though I worry it may not be the case for very long if they are able to craft more relics from him.”

Dimitri felt his spear bend in his grip, the silver gave way easily in his fist.

Indech glanced at him then, their eyes met. After a beat, Indech turned back to Seteth, “What do they know?”

“Enough, not a lot, but enough to know what the relics are and where they came from.”

Indech’s ears twitched, and he glanced over the group again, none held their relic upon them, though their steeds were not far off. Dimitri wondered if Indech could sense the blood upon his hands.

“I see, so Serios stuck to that, then.”

“Yes.”

Indech curled his lip in disgust, “Very well, we best keep the relics far from Macuil if you’d have any chance of convincing him.”

Seteth nodded, and they returned to their mounts. Dimitri could feel Indech’s eyes upon him as he mounted Juniper Axe, he bristled under the attention. Either Indech did not notice his discomfort, or did not care. Even as he mounted Seteth’s wyvern behind him, his eyes never left Dimitri.

Was he studying him? Searching for something? Could he see the blood that caked his hands and soul?

Indech let his thoughts be known as they started their leave of the forest, “Is the yellow haired one his mate?”

Seteth sputtered and Sylvain started laughing beside him. It did not take long for the rest of the group to descend into fits of giggles. Indech did not seem to understand why they were laughing at him, and simply blinked.

“We… Are engaged,” Dimitri mumbled in response, to which Indech just furrowed his brows, and nudged Seteth. 

Seteth sighed, “Human courtship traditions are different than ours.”

“So… is that a yes, then?”

“I think he’s asking if you’ve fucked,” Sylvain, not-so-helpfully supplied, and grunted when Felix elbowed him.

All eyes were on him, and Dimitri felt his cheeks burn. What happened between him and Byleth was none of their business, and he had no plans of flaunting his ‘conquest’ as others may have. He and Byleth were together, and they were happy, that was all that mattered; and as far as Dimitri was concerned, all they needed to know.

Dimitri certainly did not see why them having sex meant anything to Indech, the dragon did not even know he or Byleth.

So, Dimitri kept silent, it seemed to be enough of an answer for Indech, as the man nodded, “I see, I see. How wonderful, it has been so long since one of our own took a human mate, why I think Ma-”

“Indech.”

“Yes, Cihol?”

“Shut up.”

Indech laughed, but did not speak any further on whatever he had planned to say. Dimitri eyed the man, he seemed chipper, but the way he looked at them… It unnerved Dimitri. As if the dragon saw them as toys, or children, and not fellow sentient beings.

Perhaps Dimitri was overthinking things. His worry for Byleth put him on guard, probably too much so. 

When they left the forest, night had already fallen upon them. Seteth pushed them further a bit until they made it to a rocky craig they could shelter in for the eve. Dimitri sat before the fire, Itzel rested upon his lap, Dedue on his blind side, and Caspar on his other. 

He watched Indech hop from person to person, getting names and seemingly trying to get to know them. He rubbed Dimitri the wrong way, he was too nice, he looked at them as if they were animals. Dimitri could accept being looked upon as a wild beast, but the others? They were far from it.

Seteth rested on the other side of the fire with a sigh, and massaged his ribs. The man had not yet fully healed, but Dimitri was glad to see him holding on nonetheless. Iztel thrummed with energy each time Indech passed. He wondered why, especially given Indech seemed to give him a wide berth when holding her.

Though, given what Itzel once was, he supposed it made sense. She likely unnerved him.

Caspar held his axe up to the fire, and narrowed his eyes at the weapon. After a beat, he seemed pleased with what he saw, and tucked it behind him. He must have been looking for signs of rust, given where they just came from. 

Dimitri turned his attention back to the flames. He prayed Byleth was alright.

He was so unbelievably strong, yet, Dimitri could only imagine what his love had to be going through. Was he being taken care of at least? Given food and water? Or were they starving him, perhaps hoping to torture knowledge from him.

Dimitri scowled at the fire, Byleth would die before endangering anyone. He prayed they got to him before it came to that.

They had no time for resting, they needed to keep going. 

Already too much time had passed, if they did not hurry, it could be a month or more before they did find him. He did not think Byleth could live a month without at the very least water. What if he fell into another sleep? Would it take another five years for him to awaken?

Dimitri pulled his knees to his chest and rested his forehead upon them. 

Byleth could take care of himself. He had to trust his Beloved would hold on until they found him. Even if they found him asleep, Dimitri could deal with that. So long as he still was alive, Dimitri would rest easy. 

“Goddess-Mate.”

Dimitri raised his head, when he met the Saint’s eye he nodded away from the fire, Dimitri sighed. He pushed himself to his feet, and secured Itzel to Juniper Axe, then followed the dragon from the fire.

“Indech, do not harass him.”

“I won't,” Indech waved his brother off, and when Dimitri fell in step beside him, he led them out toward a cliff face. 

The valley below was sprawling. No signs of humans, no village, no people. The grass was green and while hard to see with the sun down, Dimitri could pick out pops of faint color from flowers.

“What do you want?” Dimitri groused, he was exhausted and had little patience for whatever bullshit this overgrown lizard was going to pull. 

Instead of speaking, Indech sat down and hung his bare feet over the cliffside. Dimitri remained standing.

Heavy silence settled between them, then Indech spoke, “What is your name?”

“Did Seteth not tell you it already?”

“Yes, but I wish to hear it from you.”

Dimitri narrowed his eyes at him, then sighed, “Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.”

Indech nodded, “Very good.”

After the air stilled between them once more, Indech glanced over his shoulder at him, his eyes reflected light like a cat’s did. It was unnerving.

“Let us spar.”

Dimitri snorted, “Why? Felix was the one that desired to fight you.”

“Yes, he will get his turn. However, it is you I wish to know.”

“So you want to fight me, to get to know me?” Dimitri snorted.

Indech pushed to his feet, “You can learn much from how a man carries himself in battle. You are wary of me, as am I of you. So, let us fight and see our truth.”

Dimitri did not know if fighting would be in either of their best interest. Sure, Dimitri desperately needed an outlet, but he had been doing so damn well controlling his anger. He feared if he let loose he would be unable to reign himself back in. 

“Come, I know a warrior in need of reprieve when I see one.”

He wondered if it would be sacrilegious to refuse. Dimitri relented and stopped by his horse to grab the silver lance he had not broken. Indech carried no weapon.

“I will not fight an unarmed man,” Dimitri stated, and Indech laughed.

“I am armed, fret not little warrior.”

Dimitri bristled at his tone, he could faintly hear Seteth groan from the fire, as well as Felix’s irritation at not being first to have a go at the giant dragon. 

Dedue stood, the others were primed to stand as well, each staring at them with focused eyes. Indech blinked and smiled, “You have your subject’s loyalty.”

“They are my friends,” He snapped.

Indech nodded, “Good.”

He continued to walk from the fire, and Dimitri spoke to them, “Rest, I am fine.”

They hesitated, but one by one, began to relax again. Dedue sat, but did not allow Dimitri to leave his line of sight.

Indech brought him down a series of small delines to a more open and far less precarious area. He noted they were beneath the cliff Indech had brought him to initially, he also noted the small crowd that formed along the edge. Indech gestured for him to stand where he was, then crossed the field until he was a good distance away. 

“I trust you will come at me with your full strength, yes?”

Dimitri scoffed.

“Good, I will not hold back either, then. Let me see what you can do, Goddess-Mate.”

The air chilled as dark scales crawled up Indech’s arm. He closed the distance between them and Dimitri barely had the chance to get out of the way when the dragon lunged. He stepped left, then swung down to where scales had not yet covered him, Indech was too fast and jumped from his strike.

“What happened to not holding back?”

Indech laughed, “Very well.”

A thrum pulled through the air, light cracked between the gaps of the scales covering Indech’s body. His true form burst from the human’s body, and when his forelegs slammed down, the ground trembled beneath his weight. Delight sparked his veins at the sight of the beast before him, Dimitri adjusted his hold on his lance.

Indech’s head rose to his full height, without the water to hide his full form, Dimitri realized just how towering he was. 

His legs were his weakest point, they had the fewest scales protecting them, he noted. He rushed forward, and narrowly ducked under a swing of Indech’s massive head. Dimitri stabbed the silver into the tender flesh of the dragon’s leg, and the creature laughed.

It had not given way as much as Dimitri had hoped, and he was forced to abandon his weapon to escape being crushed beneath his claws. Indech pulled the lance from his leg, a thin trickle of green escaped the wound, and he tossed it aside. 

Dimitri would have to retrieve it before anything else. 

Water washed over his feet, and before he knew it, spires of water shot up on all sides of him. He grit his teeth as the frozen tips tore through his armor like paper. Indech swung his head to bite at him. Dimitri would now allow himself to be caught so easily. He rolled beneath his jaw, and took the chance to make a break for his lance. 

Water surrounded him again and Dimitri managed to dodge the worst of the attack, though he still felt ice pierce his arms. He skidded to a stop and grabbed his lance in hand.

Indech was slow, but his armor was thick. 

Dimitri drew a steadying breath as he watched Indech turn to him. The dragon’s breath came out in plooms of mist. 

He had no hope of defeating him, not in truth. Dimitri knew his strength. If he wanted to even have a chance at winning this battle, he needed to tire the dragon out. Dimitri charged forward and used the slicked grass to his advantage as he skidded between his legs. 

Indech reared back, and Dimitri slashed at his ankle. It did little damage, but it got the hulking creature to turn around. 

He ran around the side of his shell. Roll from ice, duck under his head. Stab up into the softer flesh at his joints. 

Dimitri could taste the sweat upon his lip. 

Indech was not as slow as he had anticipated when his head barred down a second time. Pain splintered his vision as his back met the hard clifface. Stones dug into his flesh, and he fell to the ground. He spat blood from his mouth, and used his lance as a crutch to stand.

Indech rumbled his pleasure.

Nothing was broken, though he could feel the joints in his bad hand stiffen. He would be unable to take another hit like that.

“Given up already, Goddess-Mate?” Indech rumbled, “Will you relent so easily in the face of those who harmed your lover?”

Anger laced his veins. How dare he?

Dimitri charged forth with a furious howl, Indech danced back. Far more nimble than something of his size should have been, his attention was drawn to the water that swirled around him. He was using it to help him move. 

He charged the dragon again, Indech ducked down and grabbed his lance between his teeth. Dimitri was face to eye with the beast. Dimitri snarled, and broke the lance within Indech’s mouth, and used the end he still had to pierce the flesh beneath his jaw. 

Indech whirled back with a howl, the half not stuck in his flesh fell from his open mouth. Dimitri ran to grab it as Indech whirled upon him. Water swelled around his feet, and Dimitri allowed it. Spires of water and ice erupted around him, caging him from escaping as Indech brought his teeth down to end the fight.

Dimitri stopped his mouth between hand and foot, pushed it open, and situated the tip of his broken lance upon the roof of the dragon’s mouth.

Mist filled his vision, teeth dug into the tender skin of his hand. He could feel it scrape against bone, yet the mouth did not close. It trembled in his grip, he could feel the push of the dragon’s muscles, but he managed to keep it open just long enough to kick his lance into the back of Indech’s throat.

He fell back as jaws clamped shut, a mere breath away. 

Indech started to gag, he shook his head and began to choke. Indech managed to dislodge the lance, as his breaths became more steady, and he spat the bloodied tip onto the ground beside Dimitri’s collapsed form.

Indech regarded him, then sat back on his haunches and grinned.

“Well done, Dimitri.”

Pain coursed through Dimitri’s body, but he forced himself to stand. He wobbled, only to be caught by an arm. Indech stood before him, humanoid, and nodded once at him, “Protect your mate with that same vigor.”

“I will protect him until my dying breath,” Dimitri hissed. 

Indech nodded, and slung his definitely broken arm around his shoulder, and led him back up the cliff and away from their battlefield. 

Linhardt and Mercedes tended to their wounds. 

Indech sat beside him when his wounds were cared for as Linhart scolded him for battling recklessly. Dimitri eyed the Nabatean, Indech eyed him back. 

The man offered a hand to him, Dimitri stared at it, then took it with his own. Indech grinned, “Well fought, Brother.”

“You as well.”

They traveled north.

Dimitri could feel the tension begin to get to him. They had been gone for well over three weeks now. They were wasting time, Indech did not believe Macuil would join them, why bother trying? It was time that could be, should be, spent finding Byleth. 

He found himself having to count more often to keep himself from lashing out at anyone.

Sylvain led them by the quickest route through his territory to the desert, and they scaled the mountains that separated them from the sands. Claude led them from there, he knew where the temple was, apparently.

Or at least had a good word on it’s location.

It mattered little, so long as they got there quick, Dimitri did not care.

The deeper within the desert they traveled, the more stifling the heat became. Dimitri removed his cloak and the less vital parts of his armor, many followed his example. The days were sweltering, and the nights were freezing. 

Why anyone would make such a place their home was far beyond Dimitri. It was awful.

Their fifth day in the desert was fruitful, when they came across ruins. 

Seteth dismounted a good distance from the decrepit entrance, Dimitri slid off as well. No one brought their holy relics with them as they approached the temple. Or, what was left of it.

The sand swirled around them, Dimitri had to shield his eyes and mouth, lest he suffocate on the small grains whipping around their heads. They continued forward, until they reached the eye of the sandstorm.

A golden dragon stood there. He was feathered, more lean than Indech, though stood as tall, the sun refracted from his feathers in bright lights. He remained where he was, and stared them down. Dimitri could feel the hatred pour from his veins.

“Why have you come?” The dragon growled, the sands around them swelled, then fell to the ground. The storm had stopped.

“We need your help, Macuil,” Seteth responded, he brushed sand from his jacket, “The Goddess incarnation has been captured.”

“Serios’ little experiment? ” Macuil spat, “I care not.”

“Macuil,” Indech tried, “Even if you could care less about the humans, this could endanger our people as well.”

“And if it does we will wipe their filthy remains from this land, as we should have years ago.”

“Macuil, have reason! Do you not want to prevent the creation of more relics?” Seteth cried, and Macuil charged him, stopping just short of attacking his own brother.

“If you truly cared what happened to our people, then you would have killed those filthy blood-suckers when you saw them!” He howled, and turned upon their group, “They bear the blood of the elites, and you dare to bring them in my presence?”

“They had no control over what their ancestors did!” Indech snapped, “Do not hold them accountable for things they were not alive to witness.”

“And yet they still use our blood for their own desires,” Macuil hissed, “Why would these ones be any different?”

“Unlike you they are willing to risk their lives for one not of their own kin!” Seteth spat, his teeth shone sharp in the harsh rays of the sun.

“Only so they can use that… creature, for their own gain, no doubt.”

Dimitri had enough, “That creature has a name!”

Macuil whirled upon him, eyes wide and laced with fury. The dragon approached him, his beak opened as licks of flame curled from his teeth, “You dare speak to me in such a tone, you murderer?”

“I do.”

“As foolish as you are bloodthirsty, Blaiddyd. What do you plan to use it for then? Hm?”

“I will not use him for anything, Byleth is his own man,” Dimitri snarled back.

“Oh-ho, so the creature had given itself a name?” Macuil’s breath reeked of sand and death.

Dimitri fought to keep his anger from overwhelming him. 

“Enough Macuil, we will leave,” Seteth growled.

“You expect me to let these monsters live? After all they had done?”

“They are not responsible for the crimes of their ancestors!”

“It does not matter, the blood still runs through their veins.”

Dimitri sensed danger and immediately scrambled back from Macuil’s beak. The dragon roared his fury, “You cannot be allowed to live!”

The feathered monster lowered its head and charged at them, but skidded in its tracks when faced with a mountain of brown and green.

“You will not harm them, ” The dragon above them spoke, loud and rumbling. Dimitri could not see the dragon in it’s full, as it stood over them, yet the jagged scales that decorated it’s arms and underbelly reminded Dimitri of the scales Seteth had briefly back at the lake.

“You dare stand with those monsters?”

“Yes,” Seteth growled, his head lowered and the glint of a golden crown of horns shone in the sun, Dimitri could see massive fangs peeking from his open mouth.

“Pathetic, no different than our sister.”

“You are a disgrace, these humans would give their own lives to protect one of our own, yet you do not have the same honor,” Seteth’s head rose from Dimitri’s vision, “You once had been so proud to fight for our people, for their people. When did you become nothing more than a bloodthirsty brute?”

Macuil reeled back as if he had been struck, Seteth turned away from him, and lowered his head. Brilliant green eyes studied them, the swirling white and brown markings surrounding his almost feline face reminded Dimitri of a tiger.

“Go, there is nothing for us here. Mount your steeds and head south, Indech and I will follow shortly.”

They needed no further convincing. When night fell, Indech and Seteth joined back with them, their grief hung upon their faces.

Dimitri gazed upon the flames once more.

He missed Byleth.

They turned back to the monastery, and Dimitri was furious.

Though his anger simmered when shouts were heard from inside, “Don't shoot it!”

The group ushered their pace to a sprint, Dimitri jumped off Juniper Axe, “What is going on here?”

One of the monks’ scrambled to Seteth and he, “A wyvern, we think it was the Archbishop’s, has returned. No one can get close to it, it’s almost killed three of our best riders already.”

“She could know where he is,” Seteth murmured, then, “Take us to her.”

Sure enough, before the stables, Dagur had her wings spread in an act of dominance, and snarled at anyone who grew too close. Her yellow eyes darted between those surrounding her, and she screeched.

Dimitri held up a hand before Seteth moved any further, “She knows me.”

“Move back, you are only agitating her,” Dimitri commanded, as he stepped forward. 

Dagur snarled at him, Dimitri did not falter. She was shielding something with her body, Dimitri could not make out what it was, but she was protecting it. 

“Easy, we are looking for him, he will not leave us again,” He assured, Dagur lowered her head to meet his gaze, and slowly, but surely, bowed to him and allowed him close.

Dimitri knelt down to her talons, and she lifted them.

Byleth’s cloak, no sign of the man himself, but his cloak was there.

Dimitri pulled it from the sand, blood splattered over the white embroidery of Byleth’s dragon form. He buried his head in the moose fur, it still smelled faintly of him, but also of clay and ash. Dimitri prayed Byleth was still alive.

Dagur’s growls kicked up again, and he felt the weight of the scales protecting her underbelly fall upon his back. Seteth rose a brow at her, and she fanned her wings out further, her head lowered. Dimitri reached up and rested his hand upon the side of her neck, her growls quieted, but she did not move from her position over him.

“What is it?”

“Byleth’s cloak.”

Seteth cursed, “That won't do us any good, he had already taken it off before he transformed.”

“What was the fucking point then?” Dimitri snarled despite himself, “What was the point in wasting all that time to leave, if we would have just returned anyway?”

“I had hoped our journey would give us better tracks.”

“Your hope fell through, they could be torturing Byleth now,” He hissed, and Dagur started to growl again, “Now what do we do?”

Seteth did not meet his eye, “There is one other thing short of trying to tear Fódlan apart, it may not work, but if it does it could save us months of searching.”

Months?

“Byleth does have any more months!” Dimitri stood and brought the cloak to his chest, “He could have mere hours left and all we have done is waste time!”

Dagur snapped in Seteth’s direction, the man bared his teeth at her in a hiss, though she did not back down again.

“Calm Dagur, then meet me in the chapel.”

When Seteth left their sight, Daur stopped her growling, and rested her head upon his shoulder with a huff. Had she always been this friendly toward him? Dimitri had never thought to really interact with Dagur, he reached up and rubbed the side of her face, as he had seen Byleth do many times. The wyvern melted into his touch, and tension left her body.

“It's alright girl,” He assured the both of them, “We’ll find him, if it's the last thing I do, I’ll save Byleth.”

The wyvern crooned, Dimitri wasn't sure if she was reacting to his words or his voice, but she seemed content either way.

“Ashe!” He called, after a beat, the grey haired man appeared, he hesitated when Dagur turned toward him, her body tense. Dimitri rubbed her face and spoke, “Show me where the wyvern stables are.”

“Gotcha, they’re this way.”

He trailed Ashe, and Dagur followed him through the monastery. She was largely calm unless someone drew too close, but no longer seemed to be panicking as she had. Dimitri wondered what she had seen, where she had gone.

When Dimitri got her settled, he left the stables and descended the stairs down to make his way to the cathedral.

Ashe left his side somewhere along the way, so when he walked into the nearly empty cathedral, he stood alone. Seteth lifted his head and nodded his greeting, then turned to what he had been tending to upon one of the pews.

As he approached, he noticed the splash of light hair sitting there, Seteth kelt at Flayn’s feet and was using some sort of magic to heal a patch of exposed muscle. She was pale, and looked moments away from fainting, Dimitri felt his heart clench. 

Flayn saw him and held her hand out, he wordlessly stood beside her and gave his hand for her to squeeze as she fought back tears while her father worked. Indech sat beside her, his brows furrowed, no words were spoken. Dimitri lifted his attention from Flayn to Rhea, she stood at the end of the cathedral room, near the statue people prayed to.

Dimitri wondered what went through her mind, and why she was not the one healing Flayn.

Seteth let out a heavy breath, and re-wrapped Flayn’s leg. It looked better, but the new skin was raw and undoubtedly painful. Dimitri hoped rubbing his thumb along her knuckles soothed her, at least a little. 

Flayn looked up at him with teary eyes, “I’m sorry.”

Dimitri frowned, “For what?”

“It-It was because of me. This was all because I couldn't- I wasn't strong enough to protect myself!” Tears freely poured down her face, and Dimitri kneeled at her side.

“This is not your fault,” Dimitri assured, “This isn't anyone’s fault, not really.”

“B-But Father had to leave Byleth behind because of me.”

Dimitri glanced at Seteth, the man had stood, though he did not meet Dimitri’s eye. 

It had been wrong to blame this on Seteth, he knew that. In the heat of the moment he just needed someone to scream at, someone to blame. Seteth had been a convenient target.

He rested his forehead against the arm of the pew, “Your father did what was right to protect you. Byleth would have rather been captured and had you two live than either of you fall.”

Flayn sniffled and wiped at her eyes with the heel of her palm, “What do we do?”

Dimitri rose and turned his attention to Seteth, who directed their attention to Rhea, “There is… A possibility… Though slim… We could contact Byleth, or Sothis.”

“How?”

“Would you yell at me if I said prayer?”

“Yes,” Dimitri groused.

Seteth sighed, “Sothis, and by extension Byleth, is connected to us. While still not meeting his true strength, there may be a chance we could… For lack of a better word, summon him into ourselves, to find out where he was taken.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Ideally, it would not come to that, but Byleth is likely very weak. He may only operate on base instincts and if that is the case, he would only reach out to one he trusted.”

“So you say he doesn't trust you?”

Seteth grunted, “No, not that. He loves you as you do him, it is hard to explain. He would be more willing to give a part of himself to you, than to I, Rhea, or Flayn. Much less Indech, who he will not know. Provided he is the one in control of their strength.”

Dimitri released Flayn’s hand to run it through his hair, “So you are saying he has… Absorbed Sothis’ power?”

“Yes and no. It is…” Seteth drew a hand down his face, “If Sothis still holds their power, she would likely reach out to one of her children. If Byleth holds their power, he would be more likely to reach out to you.”

That made no sense, but Dimitri relented and nodded along anyway.

“Come, let us go to the tomb,” Rhea spoke for the first time since he had returned. 

Her posture was stiff, but she said nothing else as she left the main room to proceed down the halls and stairs that led to the holy place. Dimitri sighed, and followed after her. Indech lifted Flayn upon his back, and fell in step beside him, Seteth at their heels.

“Is… It wise to bring Cethleann into this?” Indech questioned, and tilted his head back to Seteth.

“No, but she would not take any other answer.”

“Byleth is family too, I don't want to just lay in bed when there is something that I can do to help!”

Dimitri appreciated her enthusiasm.

It had been a very long time since anyone had been down in the tomb, and it showed. The stones were dusty and there was a vague scent of mildew coming from somewhere within the walls. Still, they continued down the stairs further until they reached the main chamber. Where all the crest stones were kept, untouched, and unmarred.

Dimitri wondered if the crest stones themselves were alive.

What a horrid life that would be, to be trapped within darkness for eternity. He prayed that was not the case.

“I do not see why you did not burn them as we have the others,” Indech spoke, his voice lowered to almost a whisper.

“I had hoped we could revive them,” Rhea responded, and waited for them by the casket.

“We know that isn't possible now, so why keep them here?”

Rhea’s brows furrowed, and turned her attention to the open coffin, “There are still things to try, I could make-”

“No,” Seteth cut her off, “We have discussed this. No more.”

She frowned, but did not continue her sentence. Instead, she knelt upon the steps, her white gown splayed around her, and hung her head in silence. Seteth sighed, and did the same. Indech set Flayn down, and helped keep her upright while they both hung their heads as well.

Dimitri had not prayed to the Goddess in a very long time.

Not since Duscur, in truth.

What Goddess would allow such horrid acts to be committed on her land without punishment? Why had he been the one to suffer with the burden of revenge? A Goddess that had been asleep for a very long time, he knew now. Still, Dimitri did not know if he would ever get over that initial sting of bitterness he felt toward Sothis. 

He ran a hand through his hair and drew in a steep breath. 

It had been conditioned into him from a young age, as the sole Heir to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, yet, even as he intertwined his fingers together, it felt… Well frankly it felt foolish.

This whole situation felt like a waste of time. Time that could be spent finding Byleth, and yet, if this was a way they could somehow contact him… Dimitri had to try. Praying to Sothis felt wrong, but praying to Byleth did not feel as so.

Weird, sure, but not as wrong.

He tried to bring his mind to focus only on his breathing, and thoughts of Byleth. Was he scared? Did he need help? Were they too late?

Dimitri would have given anything in that moment to hear his voice again.

Nausea overcame him as a tidal wave. He stumbled forward, his head pounded like a wardrum, his blood boiled within him. Pain unlike anything that could ever be described overcame him as he felt the world spin around his body. 

He was cold, the stones were so, so cold.

He was moving, but he couldn't see, nothing but the purest black met his vision. Dimitri tried to claw at what blinded him, yet he could not move. It was too hot, the harsh sun beat upon his flesh. He tasted clay upon his tongue as he was dragged across the ground.

 Something was binding him down, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't-

Everything was silent.

Then, everything was loud, far too loud. There was shouting, he did not recognize the voices. Where were they taking him? Even without seeing, the world continued to spin around him.

He was in a cave, somewhere underground? The chains upon his neck were too tight, his vision became spotty again. There was laughter, black armored books stepped before his half-lidded eyes. He recognized the smell.

The Death Knight stood before him, bare of his helmet, but it was him all the same. There was another, on his other side. Grey hair and black eyes, two lines down the side of his face. A red gaze far from human.

Behind him, Hubert stood, he didn't look right. His body was not right, he wasn't right, there was something wrong with them both, he didn't-

The world went black again.

More shouts, he was warm now?

The fabric beneath his body was soft. He could breathe again, yet when he opened his eye all he saw were blurry shadows hovering around him. Dimitri threw up.

He registered being moved, something going into his mouth, angry mutterings of a man that’s lost too much. Something had his hand, they were holding it. The touch was cool and soothing, his body was too hot, he was too hot.

“—rising! Get me a wet towel!”

Was that Seteth? No, it was a woman speaking. Who was she?

Manuela. It was Manuela.

When did she return from Enbarr?

The hand holding him tightened, he heard more voices, more shouts. Something cold was pressed against his head. His lungs seized as he fought to breathe, and he threw up again. 

“I am going to kill that man when I get my hands on him,” Seteth’s warped voice cracked, “That bastard!”

Everything went black.

Well, this just will not do.

Come now, get up. You have had your dramatics, now you have a very important job to do.

Did… He die?

Oh for the love of-

That is not what matters now, little King. Your Byleth needs you, though fret not, I will scold him appropriately for this mess.

Now then, be thankful for this gift I am granting you, and wake up.

If my children ask, tell them Sothis sent her regards.

Chapter Text

Just out of reach, water trickled from a gap in the rock. The result of an underground spring, most likely. Also why the base was probably built here, and not in an already made system or building. The puddle was close, he could smell the water.

Yet, from where he was chained, Byleth could not reach it.

How troublesome.

His throat burned for relief, it had been quite some time since he had a proper amount of water. Mere glasses snuck between rounds were not enough to sate his thirst. Enough to keep him alive though, and for that Byleth was grateful.

The click of armor echoed through the cavernous hall outside his prison, followed by the rustle of glass, and the crank of wood pulling chains. He already could not move from where he was chained, Byleth felt locking him behind two gates was just being dramatic.

When the final gate lowered, Byleth could take in his visitor.

Ah, Jeritza was back.

The death knight walked to the side of his head, and set the tray of water and raw meat down. Byleth tilted his head as much as he was able to survey what was brought, more meat this time. 

“Do not get foolish.”

The man snorted, and used his cold gauntlets to pry open enough of his mouth to tip the water down. It soothed the pain, if only a bit, the chain that had been wrapped around his mouth had begun to dig into his flesh days ago. If he crossed his eyes, he could see specks of blood peppering where the binding pressed flush to his scales, just shy of his beak.

“You should be thanking me,” He slid a dagger from his boot.

Jeritza started chopping the meat, without the ability to chew because of the chains, any food he got needed to be swallowed whole. They both found that out the hard way when Byleth nearly choked to death on chicken.

“It has been a week,” Jeritza brought the paste to the side of his mouth and eased it between the gaps of his teeth, “Do you truly believe they will come for you?”

Jeritza knew the answer already, so Byleth did not respond. 

He hummed, and brought another handful of meat to Byleth’s mouth, “You have a lot of faith in them.”

“Of course I do.”

“Do you believe Rhea will come?”

Byleth shrugged as much as his bindings allowed him, “I do not know. Dimitri will, as will my lions.”

“What will stop him from killing you then?” Jeritza rocked back on his heels, perched beside his eye as an animal, “I would rather not be a slave to Nemesis.”

“I will find a way to free you, Jeritza.”

The man did not respond, and instead eased himself down to sit beside his head properly. A comfortable silence filled the air. Different than what he could share with Dima, but it still brought comfort to him in a time of stress. It brought comfort to them both, he knew. 

“Any updates on his plans?”

“None that I have been informed of,” Jeritza grunted, and leant back against his jaw. The sharp ends of his armor dug into his flesh, it stung, but Byleth did not comment.

“No one else has been taken?”

“Just you. Your companions escaped, Nemesis does not seem to plan to test his luck elsewhere.”

“Good.”

Jeritza scoffed.

Silence settled over them once more. Byleth basked in the presence of another, until Jeritza pushed to his feet and grabbed the empty glass and tray.

“We should start considering ways to escape on our own, your pet king may not find us in time.”

Byleth bared his teeth in a snarl at his tone.

Jeritza rolled his eyes, and left the room. The clank of wood and chains echoed as the gates were brought back up. 

He was left in the cold again.

Byleth wondered where his lions were. He prayed they were safe, he hoped Dimitri had not lost his mind again. Dimitri was so strong, he was an incredible ruler, yet Byleth feared what grief could do to him if he was overcome again. 

He had to have faith that the support and work Dimitri had done would be enough to keep him strong.

Byleth missed him greatly, even if just once, he selfishly longed to see him before whatever Nemesis had in store for him came to fruition.

Footsteps drew Byleth from his haze. They were muffled, but heavy. He heaved a sigh as the gates were drawn down, and the old fuck himself stepped though. Byleth snarled at him, as much as he was able, and the man paid him no attention.

“Stick him,” Nemesis commanded, and a thinner man in full armor scooted up toward his head. 

Byleth hissed and turned his head to snap at the coward, they yelped and scrambled away from him. Though the chains keeping him to the ground prevented any further movement. They dug into his skin and feathers, but he was not going to allow himself to continue being drugged so easily.

“Must we do this each time?” Nemesis grunted, “Your fight would almost be admirable, if not so foolish.”

He felt a harsh tug on his head, and a leather boot pinned his jaw to the ground. Byleth hissed and tested the strength of the chains holding him. The stone beneath him groaned and ached and he writhed, white flames spit from the edges of his mouth. 

Yet, the magic they had blessed his bindings with held strong. Byleth could not break them.

Nemesis pushed further down between his nostrils, the tip of his beak scraped against stone, Byleth wanted nothing more than to kill him.

Still, he was weak, and tired himself out. He felt the sharp sting of a needle pushed in the soft spot between his jaw and neck. The man pulled back, and Byleth’s world spun. Everything became a blur.

There was some talk, he could hear the annoying rumble of Nemesis’ voice, though the words blended and swirled together into something he could not understand. He could hear the rumble of wheels, were they going to move him again?

Something was drawn, it sounded like a blade, steps were too close to his ear. Too loud, he growled, though they did not falter their movements. There was a horrible grinding sound beside his head, metal against bone. Byleth could not figure out what was happening until the pain hit him.

Agony blossomed from the side of his head, he tried to pull away, but was kept in place by too many hands. He writhed, fought, snarled, and kicked out, claws dragged against stone. Yet the grinding pain did not relent. Nausea came to him in waves, he desperately tried to shake them off, but only more hands came to him.

Grabbing at him, pulling on his flesh and his feathers. It was too much, too many people, too many hands. He did not know any of their scents, did not know who they were. There was a crack, and another wave of agony assaulted his skull. 

It burned, where they had cut. They hauled the horn away on the wagon they brought, and left him alone in his pain. He tried to press the wound against the ground, in hopes of cooling the pain, yet the pressure only served to make it worse.

Byleth fell limp, and willed himself not to panic. If he went into shock he would die, undoubtedly. Eventually, the sharpness dulled into an uncomfortable throb. 

Byleth realized he could not feel some of his toes, that was probably not a good sign.

“Wake up.”

Byleth opened his eye to stare at Jeritza, then closed it with a huff.

“Stop pouting, this will help.”

Byleth did not feel like cooperating with him, so he snorted and turned his head from the death knight. Jeritza groaned and set another tray down beside his head.

When he heard the sound of a bottle corking open, Byleth’s interest was piqued. He turned to eye the vial, and watched in curiosity as Jeritza slid off his gauntlet and glove to dig his fingers into the salv. 

“Hold still, this may hurt,” Jeritza scooted toward the sawed-off nub where a horn once was.

“Comforting,” Byleth groused, but remained motionless all the same.

The salv burned when pressed against his horn. Like the burn of whisky over an open wound, it sizzled in his brain. If it kept him from getting an infection though, it would be worth the pain. Byleth wondered where Jeritza found the stuff.

“They're trying to make a relic out of your horn.”

Byleth snorted, “Without my crest stone it will be nothing more than a shiny sword at best.”

“They are testing if your horn will accept other crest stones.”

That was odd. Byleth had always figured one could not make a relic without the heart and the bones of the same person. Would it even be possible to combine them? 

“Have they any luck?”

“I know not.”

Jeritza unwrapped some bandages from the messy pile he had thrown into his satchel, and wrapped the tender bone. The cloth pressing against the exposed nerves was horribly painful, but he knew it would keep the salv from getting rubbed off as easily.

Not that Byleth could move much now, in truth.

Byleth flinched when the bandages were tied off far too tight, still, it was better treatment he would have gotten elsewhere, so Byleth found little room to complain. Jeritza pulled back, his bare hand hovered above Byleth’s head. After a heavy pause, the man muttered to himself and pulled his hand away, shoving the pale skin back into his armor.

Oddly, Byleth would have welcomed the touch to his face. He… Missed contact with others.

He would not request such a thing from Jeritza though, the man had just been freed to be thrown at the feet of another captor. Byleth could not imagine this was easy for him. If Jeritza wanted physical touch, Byleth would supply it, but he would not ask for it.

Jeritza gathered the items and left the room. 

He was cold.

Not Hubert was his next visitor, it seemed.

Byleth barely had the energy to growl at him, instead, he ignored the mage’s presence, and continued trying to nap. The man fiddled with something near his tail, Byleth resisted the urge to see if he could smack him with it. Probably not, and if he could, Byleth did not feel like having more chains on him.

Instead he let his mind wander. He longed for Dimitri’s presence, he would know the words to say that’d soothe his fear and talk away Byleth’s pain. He missed his warm hands and gentle smile. 

He longed for his friends. They would heal his wounds and embrace him as he craved.

There was a sharp prick against his tail, and Byleth’s fantasies were ruined by Not Hubert’s shenanigans. He curled his tail away from the man, and the mage grunted in response. It seemed he had got what he wanted, as he left shortly after. Without any light or ways to count, Byleth wondered just how long had passed since he was brought underground.

Jeritza was right, he needed to start planning his own escape. Perhaps they thought him dead? Byleth had no idea what the scene he was taken from looked like, perhaps there was a lot of blood. Perhaps Nemesis had left a decoy body?

Byleth tested the strength of his restrains, to find them once more immovable. The rock they were embedded in had begun to crack though. He may not be able to free himself of the chains fully, but if he could at least get enough leverage to wiggle around, he may be able to work with that.

His magic was sapped dry, so long as they kept him pumped full of that drug, he could not use anything more than a weak flame. Would there be a way to tamper with the dose? If he got just enough for him to become human, he and Jeritza would have a chance of escape that way.

Unless the chains shrunk with his size, in that case, he’d be worse off.

Byleth pulled his chin against the stone, irritated that his brain would not function as he needed it to. He wasn't as sharp as he should be, he could feel it. His mind would come and go in bouts of clarity. Who knew what happened when he was unconscious.

He decided he needed to better tune the rough schedule he had of them in his head.

It was easier said than done. His consciousness did not seem to operate on a schedule, frustratingly enough. So, he relied on Jeritza for outside information, but like he, the man was plagued with magic that sapped him. Trapped within the armor upon his body.

“They have three mages and a smith working on the horn they took from you,” Jeritza muttered, and shoved the meat paste into Byleth’s mouth.

Byleth wasn't sure if he’d be able to enjoy beef or chicken again.

“They are crafting it into a shield.”

A shield. Made sense, his horns were strong, he had learned that much. Even without the power of a relic to embolden it, his horn would still make for a tough to break shield. A valuable item regardless if the experiment panned out.

And if it did, they would come for his others. Maybe more.

Byleth hoped they took his claws instead, he had long since lost feeling in his forelimbs. Probably not good, but Byleth did not have the mental space to give it any consideration past that.

Jeritza peeled the bandage from his horn, the pain largely left him, though the exposed end was still quite tender. He slathered it with more of the stinging salv, Byleth rumbled his thanks.

“The chains are connected to Hubert, somehow. If he were killed, their power would cease.”

“Not Hubert,” Byleth corrected absently, though did bring his words to consideration. 

Kill the wrong mage, he would be free. 

Yet in his misty thoughts, Byleth did not think even if the magic was lifted, he would have the strength to break through the chains. They likely betted on him eventually finding a way to kill Not Hubert, and kept him drugged so as to keep him weak.

Byleth felt sick. 

He felt his head get pushed, and drool leaked from the corners of his mouth, a hand brushed his cheek as he heaved. The metal was cold, and did not soothe him as the hand of his Dimitri would have, but it was something. He leant into the strokes, acutely aware of how starved he had become for affection.

Jeritza sat with him until the world was blanketed black once again.

Nemesis stopped by, again.

Byleth growled the moment he smelled the stench of rotting flesh and clay.

As the man passed through the gates, he held a shield on his arm. It pulsed red with energy like a relic did, though the shield itself had retained the original opalescent sheen to it as his horns did. Had he not been looking upon a part of his own body, he would have admired the craftsmanship.

“Turns out you will be very useful to us indeed.”

Byleth snorted.

“We can craft weapons from you and use any crest stone we want within. They do not reject your body, how intriguing is that?”

Byleth did not respond, and only stared at the man. The… thing, before him. He had perhaps once been a man, but he was that no longer. A puppet, not even realizing it was being pulled by strings.

Pathetic.

“Stick him,” Nemesis called, and the same scrawny coward came out with a needle. 

The usual song and dance ended with Nemesis’ boot upon his head again while he was struck with more of that horrid concoction. It worked faster, this time. He barely remembered the searing pain he felt in his leg before all faded to black.

“They used your scales to craft a chestpiece.”

No longer were they limited to weapons, it seemed. Only a matter of time before they took too much and killed him. How long had passed? 

Jeritza lathered the bare patch of skin with some ointment, he wondered where he was finding them. Perhaps he was given them, under the assumption he would be keeping Byleth alive as they harvested his body.

“It behaved like a relic,” Jeritza continued, and wrapped his leg, “It will be not much longer before they take your bones.”

“I know.”

“I can not kill the mage.”

Byleth knew that whatever magic they sealed Jeritza with, left him unable to harm them. A sort of mind control, that only affected the body. The mere implications of such made him sick. It would be up to Byleth to kill Not Hubert, yet, he was never unbound. He had no chance for attack.

They made careful planning for that.

He was cold.

He must have shivered, as Jeritza stood and sat beside his head. Tentatively, a hand reached out and clawed over the feathers along his cheek. Byleth closed his eyes, and allowed the man the comfort. It was not a gentle touch, nor was it a particularly soothing one, but Byleth understood the man was new to affection. He could recognize an attempt at soothing.

Byleth wished Dimitri were beside him. The man was always so good at brute forcing his way out of the toughest of situations, as impractical as it often was. It was needed now, they had no chance for planning, no strategies that could be used. 

They needed raw strength, and between keeping him drugged and Jeritza on a tight leash, there was not a lot to work with.

He longed to fall asleep and listen to his heartbeat again. He could remember the rhythm as easily as if it were his own. Perhaps, in a way, it was. The only heartbeat Byleth would ever truly know.

Though in truth Byleth hoped Dimitri never found them, he feared what sort of power Nemesis held, and he feared what that power could do to his people.

One would think, as a being that could control the flow of time himself, Byleth would have been immune to losing track of the days. Yet here, in near complete darkness, chained to the floor, Byleth found himself wondering how long he had been there. Had this current bout of isolation been mere minutes, or had it been hours? Perhaps even a day?

Byleth couldn't be sure.

He did not even have Sothis to speak to, not really. Byleth missed her. 

When the sound of heavy footfalls outside his prison came, Byleth found himself almost excited, despite recognizing the pattern as Nemesis. He watched in silence as they lowered the two gates down, Nemesis strolled in with his slaves, a couple holding torches to illuminate the dark cave.

“You’ve surely realized you will not make it through your time here alive, yes?” Nemesis inquired, despite his question, there was a notable lack of sadism. Rather as if he were sparking up a conversation over a pint with old friends.

Byleth did not respond, he did not deserve his words.

Nemesis snorted, “Hmph, very well. I shall cut you a deal, monster. I know you can speak, tell me where the others of your kind are, and I will kill you here and now.”

Byleth rose a brow, he certainly was not driving a hard bargain. He could at least pretend to offer him his freedom in exchange for knowledge. He did not speak, and Nemesis narrowed his eyes.

“You do not seem to realize what I am offering. I am giving you the chance to die a swift and relatively painless death. Should you not take my mercy, you will be picked apart piece by piece until your body eventually gives up on you.”

What a foolish offer, Byleth snorted. He turned his head away from Nemesis, and took a modicum of pride in the man’s furious exhale. When a horn was grabbed and his face pressed to the ground, Byleth did not struggle, only bared his teeth in a feral grin at the bastard. 

“Cocky little shit, aren't you?”

Byleth let out a wheezy hiss in response.

Nemesis scoffed and released his head, then turned to the group that had followed him in, “Take his blood, we will need a lot.”

The slaves skittered around him, all hesitant to come too close. 

“ Now. ”

At Nemesis’ impatient growl, they descended upon him. Byleth did not bother to put up much of a fuss as they stuck thin needles between gaps in his scales to bleed him out. All was silent, and Byleth’s world began to blur. He growled and attempted to shake them off, though he found his limbs too heavy, and his world spun into darkness.

He awoke at the nudge of something cold just beneath his eye.