#platonic dimivain is possibly my favorite dynamic to write

[dpsisquared]

Another snippet of Dimitri's suffering post "Possibilities," where he glimpses an S Support future with Byleth in Hopes. On this episode: Sylvain "helps" His Majesty score a date.

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"I saw some fishing poles with your gear," Sylvain said. It was said in a perfectly casual tone, but after a lifetime of knowing the man, Dimitri knew he was up to something. "Do you fish?"

She nodded, mouth full of food. It was so charming how she was utterly unbothered by their status, behaving the same as she would around a campfire of rowdy mercenaries.

"His Majesty is quite the fisherman, aren't you?" he prompted, elbowing Dimitri.

"Er, it's been many years since I had the pleasure." Approximately twenty years, in fact-- his entire life.

Sylvain continued chatting, meandering toward whatever his mischievous goal was. "Shez took me to a lake that's great for fishing! And the weather is supposed to be beautiful this afternoon. Maybe you could go fishing, Byleth?"

"My father just left for a mission," she replied.

Odd. They typically worked as a unit. Dimitri wasn't aware of any time Jeralt had been deployed without her.

"Oh, bummer," Sylvain said. "Wait! I know! His Majesty could accompany you! He doesn't have any meetings today."

Ah, they'd finally arrived at the inevitable teasing.

Dimitri glared at his friend. "I have meetings all day. Like I do every day."

"Duke Ifan was delayed due to bad weather and won't be here until next week," Sylvain explained.

"And Rodrigue?"

"Spending the day with the new recruits from Duscur to help them settle in."

"The Margrave?" Dimitri asked. There was no way Gautier canceled their meeting. The sun itself could use that man to mark its schedule.

"Stomachache."

A silent battle of wills followed, the two men staring each other down. Sylvain had his signature roguish grin plastered on his face, with an extra glint in his eye that seemed to say, go on. Try me.

"A stomachache," repeated Dimitri in disbelief. "Margrave Gautier, the infamous Wall of Ice, protector of the most inhospitable territory in Faerghus, has a stomachache?"

"Sure does. I think he ate some bad fish," replied Sylvain. "Hey, maybe if you brought back some fresh ones from your excursion, that won't happen again!"

The king was grasping at straws, but he wasn't willing to admit defeat quite yet. "Well, there's always war council."

"Hardly seems worth it with so many people out, don't you think?"

What had Dimitri done to deserve such a prank? Sure, he'd hounded Sylvain at the Academy about his skirt-chasing from time to time, but this seemed to be quite a disproportionate response. Perhaps the knight subscribed to the adage that revenge was a dish best served cold, lying in wait for the opportunity to humiliate the king. Dimitri supposed it was inevitable that revenge would one day turn its gaze back upon him.

Maybe Sylvain just wanted to get his friend a date.

But Byleth was looking at him expectantly, and he found himself powerless to say no to her.

"It appears I am indeed free today," he said. "I'd be honored to accompany you to the lake, Miss Eisner."