#; blood written in the grass and on the walls tells a story⁽ᴰʳᵃᵇᵇˡᵉ⁾

[offhirdiad]

          It had been a year since his coronation. A year of fingers tapping helplessly on his desk and breathless lungs as he stared passed whatever was before him. He was a king now.

          The King.

          What was once supposed to be limited to Faerghus had now become all of Fódlan. It sat on his shoulders with its own hefty weight. But no matter how many times he sat upon the, his, throne in front of various commoners and nobles alike it never got easier. Before each meeting he felt he might be ill or like the world would crumble at his feet.

          He had never felt he was meant to be a king. Let alone the king of a fractured country which was still rebuilding after a devastating war. Blood still soaked the lands and skirmishes continued on in the deceased emperor’s name. They all looked to him with far too many questions in their eyes and hopes filling their chests. Others were also very demanding pushing their own affairs and requests upon him that were selfish. It was overwhelming.

          From a young age he had been taught by his father, Gustave, and Rodrigue the ways and traditions of which he would inherit with his rule. Maybe once he would’ve felt like he would make a great ruler. He would lead Faerghus to greatness, create immediate peace between the boarders, and make the Blaiddyd family name proud.

          But now he sits in the empty throne room after another meeting about discussions for what to do about Brigid, Almyra, Duscur, Dagda, and even Sreng. He trembles in his seat with his ever wavering confidence and has to hold himself in check as to not shatter the armrests he’s clutching like a lifeline. It takes whatever will he has left to pull haphazard breaths through his lungs.

          As soft hearted and broken as he is, was he even truly meant to be their king?

[offhirdiad]

Okay, so basically I blame Vetra for this. But we were talking about how endgame for Blue Lions route was kind of missing some things that we would’ve liked to see. So while thinking about it I kind of realized that Dimitri could’ve, especially in writing, had a great parallel when he finds out about the Flame Emperor versus the final boss in the last chapter. Thus, this mini drabble from Dimitri’s mind was born! It’s not great and I would’ve added more, but I didn’t want it to be word-for-word canon and I wanted to expand on his thoughts a bit. Either way I’m still proud of how this turned out!

          Though it were only a memory, Dimitri could remember the incident as if it was mere seconds ago. The mask falling to the ground revealing the familiar face of his step-sister and the sickening crunch of the ceramic under his boot was still fresh. It had allowed misty red to drape itself across his vision, and without thought he was tearing through the Adrestian soldiers as if they were nothing more than small twigs blocking his path.

          Her head. That’s all he wanted. To avenge the fallen, the lost, and those that did not deserve to go through such a tragedy. All of their voices screamed in his head at once to take her down. To kill. It drove him forward like an animal making the final move on their prey. But instead of teeth sinking into flesh it would be his lance.

          All of the pent up emotions since that unfortunate day at Duscur had led up to this. Every word he could muster to insult the emperor made its way to his tongue as he worked to get to her, but in the end it had done nothing for him. Just as every other time she had left in a puff of smoke with her remaining soldiers. The last time he had shook this hard was after witnessing the massacre. His young form then couldn’t hold back the sobs from despair and pain, but here all he could do was tremble in his blind fury.

          She was gone. But he swore that he would find her and that he would end her himself.

--------------------------

          On this day in particular though, things are different. That rage that once devoured his entire being only sits like embers in his chest. Dimmed down enough to keep true to himself, but fueled enough to keep him pushing forward. Their final battle was approaching as the Kingdom Army made their way through the masses of mages and beasts in their advance to the throne room.

          Victory was in sight and he was finally going to make up for all of these tragedies that had befallen them. He would finally take down Edelgard.

          Continuing their push, there’s no doubt something is off. It’s not unusual for a mage to cast spells further than someone wielding an axe, but the dark ominous cluster that he just barely dodges isn’t like anything he has seen before. For while he may not be a mage he wasn’t ignorant to their tomes. But soon enough he finds out his answer.

          It comes with great effort of making the final stretch to the throne. The ornate room gives way at the other end to a set of stairs leading up to a monster that wears Edelgard’s face. For a moment, it has the king stepping back in shock.

          Edelgard, always immaculate and pristine, was now overtaken by this hideous creature. The distended limbs and the peeling flesh of her once flawless face was enough to make his entire body recoil, but he holds himself fast as the rest of his army files in behind him.

          “What have you done?!” His voice is one of exasperation that is only enhanced by the gasps of those that echo around him. “Tell me you really haven’t done this.”

          That flame of anger threatens to rise as it burns a bit brighter in his chest. The sight of this demonic creature, the fact that she was so willing to give her body up for this cause she believed in, was beyond him. While he may not agree with her ideals, fighting as she is now was nothing compared to what he could only identify as selling her body and soul for this war. What he once tried to understand he found he couldn’t any longer. This had gone on far enough, and eventually that flame turns into a constant flicker to steel his resolve.

          “These wrongs that you claim to correct can no longer be if this is your idea of forging a better world.” He steps forward now with his lance aimed directly at the creature. “Your values are dead, and all I can do is pity what you have fallen to. I will not let you destroy more lives, and if that means going to hell with you then so be it!”

          All it takes is one intake of air to reassure himself that he’s still in control. There is no hazy mist threatening to cloud his vision or his judgement. The person who he knew and wanted to try negotiating with was gone. Instead, it was only a husk with a mask of Edelgard’s face. This time he surges at her without the goal of taking her head, but instead taking back what was lost.

[offhirdiad]

          In the darkness of the night, there was little comfort to be found in the candlelit room. For while the prince had found himself back in Fhirdiad it did nothing to quiet the voices whispering into his ear. He could practically feel their breath against his skin as they spoke sending violent shivers down his spine. They do nothing but taunt him for his failures and shame him for his shortcomings. Despite his thoroughly washed hands if he looks hard enough he can still see the stains of red with every word that is fed to him.

          Monster. Worthless. Incapable.

          Hands shake as he picks at his dirt covered nails. The warm reception from those that still believed in the Kingdom left him feeling undeserving. Five years in exile and rumors of a beast, horrors of the lies Cornelia had brought, and the storm clouds that brewed in his crystal blue eye didn’t seem to shy away those who still followed their to-be-king. But why? Could they truly look passed what he had done and still see him as the respectable prince that his father wanted him to be? That Rodrigue and the Professor fought to bring back?

          It’s a weight that brings him directly to his knees. A sob begins to wrack its way through his shoulders before shaking him to his very core.

           He’s just not sure if he can do this.

[offhirdiad]

Tags part 1 ♥