#seteth May or may not be excited to point out cool things

[iusedtohavesixtoes]

Some more sketches from my next chapter in my story where Seteth gets to tie his hair back, as a treat.

Also featuring Byleth making a comment that she gave zero thoughts to before it came out of her mouth.

[agent-cupcake]

Beastie and the Bard

Fire Emblem Three Houses - Dimitri x Reader (Chapter 5)

7,640 words later, Symphony Vittoria has drawn to an end. I’m so tired of working on it and want to move on, so just gonna drop it here and hope for the best. Valse di Amour is next, but I might work on something else for a bit. We’ll see... Hope you enjoy <3

Symphony Vittoria Opus 3, No. 3 III. Minuet

The late fall sun was hot on the crown of your head, doing nothing to help with the overwhelming heat of exertion that washed over you as you climbed off of Siobhan’s back and onto your own jelly-like legs. If not for the helpful Church aid, you likely would have fallen right then and there, collapsed onto the ground in a victorious puddle of sore muscles and elation.

“We won!” you said as you stumbled, catching yourself just in time, a goofy grin on your face.

“Congratulations,” the armorer said, her voice dry as she helped relieve you of your weapons and get your face mopped up of sweat. She said something else, but your ears were ringing. There was so much noise around you, the organized chaos of hundreds of people doing hundreds of different things. Victory, it all sounded like victory. Water was given to you, the armor fitted with straps to keep you in the saddle pulled away and leaving you lighter.

And then you left, far too excited to stop yourself. If anyone called for you to stop, you didn’t hear, slipping through the crowd on light feet.

Pegasi were not horses, but the two were grouped together more often than not. Perhaps the elegant Siobhan would be unhappy with the generalization, but you were glad for it as you made your way through the busy staging area. At some point in the fight, Dimitri had dismounted from his favored steed, but he always returned for the destrier. Not only out of affection for the beast, but out of fear that its fractious nature would harm those who came to collect him. In that respect, the two were well suited. And easy to find.

“Dimitri!” you called, rushing towards him as soon as you spotted his familiar blue cape. Both he and the magnificent destrier turned to your approach, an unfriendly set of dark eyes and an interested pair of blue. “That was amazing!” you told him, excitement launching you into a rant before your feet even stilled. “You should have seen the look on Hubert’s face when I got him out, he was so mad! If Seteth hadn’t called it I think he would have attacked you when you were fighting Edelgard. I’m glad he didn’t, obviously, but don’t worry, I would have protected you. Nobody would have been able to interfere with that fight… Gosh, it was so cool! Edelgard was waving that giant axe around like it was nothing, but you swiped in with your lance and the both of you moved so fast! It was intense! And now…” You laughed giddily, out of breath and your thoughts disorganized. “I’m just so happy that we won!”

“I feel the same,” Dimitri responded, his smile glowing. “Although... I cannot fathom from where you gain all this energy.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t you ever grow weary?”

“Maybe… Sometimes,” you replied with a breathless laugh. “But... I’ll get ahold of myself.” More as an act than anything, you pulled in an exaggerated breath, holding yourself still from the jittery shake of adrenaline.

“Oh no, that wasn’t a critique!” Dimitri told you. “Your spirit is admirable. It reminds me of something I feel I had nearly forgotten. And in any case, I owe you for taking out Hubert. For a moment there I was afraid I was done for by rushing in so recklessly.”

“Or maybe you just knew that I’d be right behind you,” you joked. “By now you must know that you can always count on that.”

“Is that so?” Dimitri asked, one of his eyebrows raising in a playful way.  

“Sure,” you answered easily. “Still, I do like the idea of having you owe me. I guess I’ll have to think of a really good favor, huh?”

“Whatever you want,” Dimitri responded, his voice equally as earnest as it was teasing. How he managed such a balance, you didn’t know.

Then, without thinking, you asked, “What if I asked for you to kiss me?”

The brazen words were playful, your inhibitions melted beneath the swell of glory. If you were in your right mind, certainly you would have restrained yourself. Especially because the situation wasn’t romantic. At all. The two of you were sweaty and hot from a recently won battle and surrounded by tired animals, tired students, and frantic grooms. The air stank of all three groups, as well as the dissipating oily smoke of magic fire.  The situation wasn’t suited to the dizzy elation you felt, or the feeling tightening in your sore abdomen. But it was like you were alight, floating. Full of affection and joy and glory.

Dimitri blushed before you could even think to be embarrassed about what you said, the color obvious on his pale cheeks as a compliment to his shocked expression. He didn’t say anything. And then he continued not to say anything, awkwardness growing. Your heart dropped into your stomach. In a splash of iridescent color, the soap bubble surrounding your thoughts popped.

“That was… A really bad joke, wasn’t it?” you asked. Fidgeting, you raised a nervous hand to mess with your bound hair, pulling the tail a bit tighter as you let out a forced laugh to get rid of the tension. Trying to save face. Not that it really helped. Regret was tangy, it left you sore. Dimitri still looked stunned. Conflicted. Maybe a bit embarrassed still.  “Um, anyway, a true knight is noble and brave without any ulterior motives or desire for riches. And besides, today was so much fun that winning is… It’s the icing on the cake.”

“A joke,” Dimitri said doubtfully, adjusting his posture in a distinctly awkward way. His eyes were a bit too piercing, conflicted. Then they were pulled up, distracted by something behind you. “Oh, I… I’m afraid I must go, Professor Byleth asked me to meet with him once I was done here.”

You nodded quickly, glad for a break. “Yes, I should go help, uh, get things ready to leave.”

Dimitri looked apologetic, but moved to leave, pausing only a moment before departing. His expression was conflicted. Step uncertain, he cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly before speaking. “May we speak later?”

Your heart jolted. You couldn’t tell what that question implied, but you answered all the same on something like instinct. “Sure.”

Dimitri nodded, a firm militaristic nod, before departing. His dark-haired destrier looked at you with an unimpressed look, tossing his head in displeasure as his master left him.

“That was bad, wasn’t it?” you asked the beast of an animal. The destrier, nearly as royal as his rider, exhaled in a way that sounded suspiciously like a snort of derision.

Symphony Vittoria Opus 3, No. 3 cont. III. Minuet

It was only after the celebratory gathering of the Blue Lions dispersed that you realized that you had left your cloak in the dining hall. Well, more specifically, you realized it when you reached your room’s door and didn’t have a key. The first indication should have been that you were cold, but who could expect such elevated thought from your mushy brain after the day you had?

Without the glowing companionship of your class, you wanted nothing more than to toss yourself to the soft surface of your bed and lose your mind to a well-deserved rest. Staring dejectedly at the steadfast barrier, you considered the pros and cons of trying to pick the lock. Unfortunately, your training with Ashe hadn’t provided full comprehension in the thieving arts. Or, honestly, much comprehension at all. Then you considered simply smashing down the door. It almost seemed tempting until you realized it would probably make Professor Byleth upset if you were to deface monastery property.

There was nothing for it. With a dejected sigh, you turned on your heel and retraced your steps back into the monastery’s grand hall. Alone this time, since Mercedes and Annette had returned to their own rooms. The grounds and interior were mostly empty. When the heavy door shut behind you, each of your footsteps echoed and the flickering light of magically flared sconces splayed your shadow in all directions. The emptiness was slightly unnerving, especially since it wasn’t obscenely late. But everyone was wrung out and worn from the days battle and subsequent excitement. Most of the knights had left early in the night, leaving the professors in charge so they could make their own merry with coarser endeavors and liquor.

Students, of course, indulged in no such thing, even in the name of celebration. The monastery’s deep wells and windmills drew sweet, pure water from beneath the mountains, serving as the respectable replacement to the wine every establishment in Faerghus served in place of the often unsafe water. How odd it had been to learn that the custom was not mimicked everywhere, even seen as taboo by some. In any case, the rule against liquor in the dining hall was probably for the best. One of the few times you’d ventured out to one of the town’s taverns in your spare evenings, you were able to see firsthand how messily drunk those from other countries could get after drinking even the mildest of alcohol.  

Entering the dining hall, you began to creep through the dark with a bent posture to scope out each bench for your misplaced cloak. The position strained your sore muscles, muscles you hadn’t even known could get sore before assuming mounted combat atop a pegasus. At least you spotted your cloak fairly easily.

You didn’t linger after that. Although you didn’t subscribe to superstitions like that precocious mage from Golden Deer did, there was something haunting in the air now that everyone was gone. An undefined sense of emptiness. Not too long before, the dining hall had been bright and warm and full of sound, but now the only reminder of the night’s celebration was the faint traces of excitement and a mess.

But, without a doubt, the worst part of silence was the way it threw your thoughts right back at you. Without distraction, your conversation with Dimitri returned to mind. The entire night you had been able to shrug it off as momentary madness, a state of drunken delirium from the excitement of fighting and winning, but in the dark, you weren’t so easily able to cast it aside. He hadn’t spoken to you at much throughout the celebration or so much as met your eye afterward.

Shrugging on your forgotten cloak, you left the dining hall through the stone laid fishing area, not desiring to walk back through the main hall. Besides, the air was smooth and fresh and, despite the high altitude, it wasn’t too cold. Not yet at least. In the north, the night would require you to be bundled up in wools and fur, drinking medicinal tea for fear of catching ill. But not here in the goddess’ blessed lands. You took in a deep breath, feeling the way the expanding air pushed at your sore muscles. You really were tired. Completely worn out.

Honestly, it was a coincidence that your chosen path also took you near the entrance to the second story dormitory staircase. Not at all intentional. Why, then, were you not surprised when someone called your name? No, not someone. You didn’t need to look to know the familiar voice, an achingly familiar sound.  Almost like you had expected him to call out to you. If you believed in fate, and you were only partially certain that you did, you’d have no choice but to believe that the two of you were fated to meet solely by the will of the night.

Nerves sparked to life in your stomach, but you turned to face the call with a smile for the man to which the voice belonged. Sparse lamplight was warm on Dimitri’s skin as he moved to approach you, shining in the gold of his hair and highlighting the signs of weariness on his face. Taking the steps with ease you were sure your sore legs couldn’t possibly attain, Dimitri came to a stop a socially acceptable distance away. If you were to take a single step, you would be in his arms reach. Another would ensure that you’d have to look up to meet his eyes, perhaps you could make out their color even in the dark. And another after that would put you close enough to touch, for him to feel the heat of your burning cheeks.

Energy rippled in the space between you. Something about Dimitri’s expression, the way he had said your name. Something that made you utterly and entirely aware, sensitized to the air on your skin and the way your sore abdominal muscles tightened despite the way it strained them. Something about the embarrassment of what you had said after the battle.

“You’re up late,” you said, still wearing the silly nervous grin you couldn’t force away. It was a pointless remark, considering you knew exactly how little he actually slept, but you were far too flustered for anything particularly imaginative.

“Ah, yes,” Dimitri agreed. Formal. “Once again I find myself unable to sleep…” He hesitated, frowning. “Actually, I wanted to speak with you first. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

“It’s… It’s about earlier,” Dimitri said.

“I remember,” you said, heart dropping. Soft words, achingly nervous words. Where was all your confidence now? It seemed all you had was the relentless flutter of butterflies and a head dizzy with anticipation. “I just was so excited, and I spoke without thinking and I’m really, really sorry... I don’t suppose we could just pretend it never happened?” You offered him a tight, hopeful smile.

“That’s not something I can so easily disregard,” Dimitri said, his brow furrowing. “I know sometimes people say or do things in the heat of the moment that they might not otherwise, and I swear I won’t pursue this any farther if that is the case. After all, I’m sure there are many other boys in the academy who would be far preferable, and besides, I’m...” He let the words lapse there, frowning. A moment later, that haunted look passed and his eyes rose back to yours. “Either way, for my own peace of mind, I felt that I ask what you meant by that request.”

You let out a little bubble of laughter in response, you couldn’t help it. The entire thing was just ridiculous. Boys preferable to him? What you meant, when your words had been so blatant? “Isn’t it obvious?” you asked. “I just thought that you weren’t interested, which is fine! I didn’t want to put you in that situation because I know you’re… I know you already have so many things to deal with and it’s not like I can offer someone like you anything of value, and most of the time I’m sure I’m just an annoyance anyway, so-”

“You’re not an annoyance,”  Dimitri said urgently, taking a step forward. “Please don’t think such a thing. And as far as ‘value’, well, I’m not sure what I would do without you. What any of us would do without you. Your positivity and your smile have more value than you know. That’s why I worry that I…”  He frowned again as if he was torn up about something. “I’m afraid I can’t give you what you want. I’m in no position to make any promises regarding the future. To do so would only be selfish.”

“I don’t understand,” you said. “If you don’t… like me, you can be honest about how you feel.” Even if it hurt, there was nothing worse than the not knowing. Probably. Maybe.

Dimitri’s expression shifted, his head tilting and lip turning up with the beginning of a smile. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, delivering the repeated quip with the stilted humor you’d grown used to. Despite that, in Dimitri’s expression, you saw a mirror of your nerves. You saw something that was at once cautious and questioning, binding the whatever fire that burned beneath. You saw intensity in its truest form. Control, and restriction. Doubt, and a question. Hesitation before action.

It was dizzying. The lack of sleep, the physical fatigue, the joy of victory, and now this. Words couldn’t describe the feeling, the elevation burning in the base of your skull, the shiver holding still at the small of your back, the muscles fluttering and tightening. Affection, pure and undiluted. Too much, bursting from the seams. Much more than you could ever tell him of.

“Will you kiss me?” you asked.

Like that, his hesitation melted away. Self control overridden by impulse. Dimitri took the last two steps, coming close enough for him to feel the heat of your blushing cheeks, to smell the soap you’d used to wash your hair after returning to the monastery. Close enough for his hand to cradle your head with overly careful movements, for your own to raise tentatively to his cheek and shoulder. Close enough for his lips to meet yours.

And it was lyrical. Poetic in every sense that it was not. Chaste, nothing like the enthusiastic and messy kissing you’d seen others engage in. Awkward in the way of two partners trying to learn a dance for the first time. Sweet because when you breathed in, Dimitri filled your senses. His hands, his body, his lips, all of them so close, yours for that moment.

Too soon it ended, leaving you starry eyed, dizzy, grinning like a lunatic.

Dimitri let his hands drop, taking a half step away to give you space. “I’m sorry, that was forward of me.”

“It’s okay to be forward, you know,” you said. “And sometimes being selfish... Well, it’s not always a bad thing.”

Dimitri weighed those words, then let out a heavy breath, shaking his head. Closing himself off from you. “I’m not so sure that’s true. Not for me, at least.” He caught himself after a moment, adding, “That’s not to say that I’m displeased with this. With you. That said… It looks as if you’re about to fall over. Today was an exhausting day, perhaps both of us could use a bit of rest.”

You hadn’t even noticed the way you were wobbling on your feet, unsteady. “Are you actually going to sleep?” you asked him.

“I think I might. Finally.”

You smiled. “Well, until we meet again in the waking world.”

“Until then,” Dimitri said, his head tipping politely.

Parting was bittersweet, your stomach lit aflame with a final glance back at him. That image kept you company all the way back. And although you had a thousand thoughts to keep you awake, you didn’t even get changed from your clothes before unconsciousness claimed you.

Symphony Vittoria Opus 3, No. 4 IV. Finale

It was a full moon, the first since the Blue Lion’s so-called victory at Remire Village. Even with the added illumination, the sky was somehow just as large and unfathomable as the abyss that sprawled beneath your feet. With the horizon so dark, there was practically no difference between them, no dividing line to say what was of earth and what was of the heavens. Only you, the darkness, and the absolute unknowable.

And your music, of course.

The air was cold as winter continued to cast its witching spell across the lands, and a seat on the top of the fence edging the sheer cliff at the corner of one of Garreg Mach’s courtyards was probably not the most comfortable or safe spot, but you had no desire to leave. Central Fodlan’s cold season wasn’t even half as brutal as it was in Faerghus. Besides, the full moon made you wonder, made you dream. Was the goddess really praying up there in the heavens, as legend of the Ethereal Moon would say? You could almost imagine it. The goddess in all her magnificent splendor among the stars, praying for peace and prosperity, for safety and calm.

That begged a rather odd question, though. To whom did the divine pray?

Either way, you performed for the occasion. Stray chords and soft melodies. Gentle notes that echoed against mountainous drop hidden in the dark below. Slow, weaving tunes that reverberated and repeated in the silence back to you. Or, perhaps, it was the silence itself that was rejecting the noise which disturbed it. You played for the abyss that stretched beneath your throne at the top of the world. You played for the billows of fog that crawled up from the dark, set alight and lustrous from the tender caress of the full moon hanging right above. You played to cease your thoughts as they whirled unendingly, you played in an attempt to remember the warmth that had burned so delightfully in your chest before.

Poking out from the scarf you’d pulled over your face, the tip of your nose was red, and your fingers were clumsy and stiff from the chill. But it was much, much better than silence. Absence was agony, quiet was cruel. For a while, you’d driven away the silence of the night with training. Dimitri hardly ever said anything, but there was a weight to the companionship and ritual of the entire affair. Since the brutal end of the previous month, you hadn’t seen him nearly at all.

You told yourself that it was fine. Dimitri was as the moon, a soul shining in soft radiance existing in a cycle of shifting patterns amidst the nuanced darkness of night. Waxing and waning with each pass. Bright and alluring sometimes, drawing you in with his laugh and contradicting sense of humor, with the liquid warmth you’d felt when his lips had met yours, but shuttered and turbulent on the others, hiding half in the dark and pulling away from you as the horrors of things hiding in the shadows overcame him. Distant and unknowable, something to love without expectation.

If only. Things had been going so well after that fateful night, your heart warm with joy in the wake of the Blue Lion’s victory at the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Or at least you thought so. You hadn’t expected Dimitri to actually court you after a single kiss, or to treat you any differently than he had before, and he hadn’t. It was all you could hope for that he’d keep you around. But now the memory of his lips against yours was tinged by regret. Regret when you thought of Dimitri’s outburst outside of Remire and the subsequent slip of his mood and mentality, the way that he avoided you and your silly girlish crush and idealistic desires and annoyingly mundane wishes like a partner to the upcoming White Heron Ball and a calloused and strong hand to hold in yours.

You strummed a happy chord to counteract the bitter ache of that thought. A happy chord that became a melody. Nothing at first. That was the way of music, wasn’t it? Something from nothing, song from silence. Now, without even thinking about it, you began to play a song for the moon. You weren’t thinking about it, not really. You’d practiced this song a thousand times over in order to get it just right because the moon deserved something perfect. Another chord, a bit clumsy with cold, climbing it out to create a steady instrumental for the sung melody, now replaced with the soft voice of the lyre. No longer happy, the tune wept with the faint edge of melancholy.

You heard the approach of footsteps before the voice could startle you, your fingers coming to a harsh halt mid-way through. Combat training had taught you to be constantly aware of your surroundings, even while relaxed. Especially when there were such wicked villains strutting about the area. At the very least, it saved you from the undesirable fate being scared into a deadly plunge towards the void beneath you once the voice startled you, although you couldn’t help but mourn the loss of that blissful ignorance for the slightest moment. It was for the best, anyway, that song was for-

“I thought I might find you here,” Dimitri said.

Surprise or no, hearing his voice made you tense up, quickly looking behind your shoulder as if to prove to yourself that it really was him. Then again, who else would it be at this hour? You chose your spots very carefully these days, picking out the holes in where knights might usually patrol. There was no sense in guarding an area that no creature, human or beast, would be able to sneak in through.

Although you hadn’t seen him much at all recently, Dimitri’s appearance filled you with an odd sense of Deja Vu. Something about the way he was bleached silver by the full moon and draped in shadow, finally paying respect to the cold weather by wearing a striking blue cloak more substantial than that of his uniform. You pulled your lyre and hands into the safe warmth of your cloak, submitting to the silence while a small voice in your head wondered if it was the song that had summoned him. It was his, after all, penned soon after the conversation in the classroom months back.

How many days had it been since Remire, since he’d begun avoiding you?

But that was an easy answer, for you at least. Far too many.

“Perhaps I should try to be more unpredictable,” you finally said with an attempt at being playful, pulling your face from the scarf so you could be heard.

“Oh, no, that wasn’t what I meant, I-” Dimitri’s quick apologetic response cut off soon after it began, as if he realized something. “That was a joke.”

“Not a very good one,” you gave him.

The momentary levity dissipated in a flash, awkwardness returning. Dimitri looked tired, although it would have been more surprising to see him looking well rested at this point. Cold had nibbled his cheeks and nose to a pink that was rather fetching, considering you were quite certain your cheeks were ruddy with the icy chill. Visible awkwardness, both in his expression and in his stance, mirrored your own.

“Did you... Need something?” you asked when he said nothing further. You regretted your tone immediately, but Dimitri didn’t seem to take it personally, addressing the question at face value in the rather blunt way he so often did.

“Yes, I wanted to speak to you... Do you mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing to stretch of the stone fence beside you. The blocks were just wide enough to make for a seat, and not adorned like they were in other parts of the monastery. Your head tilted in curiosity, heart stuttering in a way you were far too familiar with by now, a reaction you were certain your body reserved for Dimitri.

“Of course,” you said. Dimitri, to your surprise, threw his legs over the wall to sit beside you, looking about twice as awkward in the position as you might have imagined him to. Although, it didn’t seem to be out of caution of the great height, but some odd dissonance between the polite prince he was raised to be and the exhausted soldier he so often carried himself as. Neither were likely to adopt the position of the romantic delinquent who would find solace in such a place.

“This is an… Interesting spot to practice,” Dimitri noted lightly, looking at the sky, the abyss, and the stretching image of the cathedral’s spires beyond. Although his tone was as proper as ever, his eyebrow quirked, lit quite well by the bulbous moon above.

“I started coming here to get over my fear of heights so I could ride Siobhan without wanting to cry, but…” You considered the view, feeling a bittersweet twinge in your heart at the sight. Raw beauty hurt when you weren’t expecting it. “It’s a good spot to think, you know? And please don’t say that it’s dangerous. I have a knife and everything, just in case.”

“That’s good to know, but I wasn’t going to lecture you,” Dimitri said. “I trust your capability.” After a moment, he bitterly added, “Besides, I’m hardly one to talk in that regard.”

“Oh,” you replied, unsure of what else to say. You hadn’t noticed it before, but he looked serious. Well, Dimitri almost always looked serious, but there were varying shades of it. This was the type of serious that had a furrowed brow and eyes full of all sorts of deep, conflicting thoughts. The weight of the world bearing down on his shoulders. Very kingly.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior in Remire Village,” Dimitri finally told you.

You felt a harsh pull in your gut to hear him say that, as well as surprise. You blinked as if that would clear things up, but it didn’t.

“Apologize?” you asked.

“For my behavior, and… For frightening you.” His eyes closed with those softer words, that apology utterly sincere. “Frightening me?” you asked, your voice even softer with disbelief. “You’ve been avoiding me since then, haven’t you?” Dimitri asked. “I won’t force my company on you, but please know that what happened… How I behaved… I am deeply regretful that you witnessed that.” He let out a breath, the cold puffing in front of his lips like a little ghost. “An apology does little to mend it, I know, but I am truly sorry.”

“Dimitri…” you said after an extended stillness had settled, your voice timid as you tried to understand what he had just said. “I think you’ve misunderstood.”

“Misunderstood?” he asked doubtfully.

“Or maybe I’ve misunderstood? You didn’t scare me, Dimitri, that’s…” Ridiculous. It was a ridiculous thought. “I was… No, I am worried for you,” you got out, stilted as you tried to voice what you thought. This wasn’t at all what you had thought this conversation would be, if it even happened at all. It was surreal, almost.

Dimitri still looked doubtful, measuring your words as mere placations. You knew him well enough by now to recognize that look in his eyes, even in the near dark. So you pushed forward, trying to make him understand, to convince him of your feelings without voicing them directly. A confession was the last thing Dimitri needed right now, not that you were even sure if you had the courage to confess what you felt. What you truly felt.

“After… What happened, you seemed so withdrawn and unhappy whenever I was around, so I thought you wanted to be left alone. That it was… What you needed. And I- I don’t really know how to help you, anyway.” That truth hurt to voice, ripping up the inside of your throat as it emerged from your mouth in a hushed tone. “Or if that’s even possible. I see the stress you’re under, the pain… You look so tired these days, and you mentioned that your head aches terribly, so I-”

“I’m fine,” Dimitri interrupted sharply, his body tense and eyes hard. Then he blinked. Sighed with another puff of cold air. His eyes lowered and shoulders drooped, a hand going to his temple. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t be concerned about me, I really am fine.”

“Even if that’s true… Well, please remember that I’m with you, whatever you need, however I can help. No matter what,” you said.

His eyes, the blue obscured by the sunken shadows cloaking them, held yours for a suspended moment. Looking for your loyalty? For honesty?

“The Professor looks at me the same way,” he finally said, looking back out into the dark. “So worried. He says I should get more rest… But how can I sleep when the despicable scoundrels who orchestrated the tragedy in Remire Village continue to draw breath? Not just them, but…” Dimitri hesitated. “I told you before that I lost my parents and many of my friends in the Tragedy of Duscur, do you remember?”

You nodded, not daring to speak.

“When I saw what was happening in Remire, I was reminded of the flames I saw four years ago in Duscur… Of the chaos that took my family and stole countless precious lives. And right then, my mind was overcome with that same rage… A complete and utter darkness.” He paused, looking out over the void below with hardened eyes, anger etched into his face. “Since that day in Duscur, my sole purpose has been to find justice for my family. Justice for all of those who have suffered and died at the hands of the Flame Emperor and his ilk. Inhuman monsters who prey on the innocent. That is the only reason I came to the Officer’s Academy.” Dimitri’s voice had become low, not the growl from Remire, but managing to be just as intense. “I will have revenge.”

Chills prickled nearly painfully against the insides of your sleeves and thick leggings, shuddering down your spine like ice water. Dimitri was being honest, there was no doubt in you that this was his truth, but you weren’t sure he’d ever seemed more unreachable as he did at that moment. The binding chains of the dead dictated his life. You had seen it before, feared it, but now you could see the fact starkly, plainly displayed in his eyes. He was willing to lose himself to the ghosts of those who had died, to his rage and his grief.

And you couldn’t do anything about it, could you?

“Dimitri,” you said softly, even mournfully. With a tentative touch, you pulled a hand out from your cloak to place it on his clenched fist where it sat between the two of you. Dimitri tensed up, his eyes swiveling to you as if surprised at your proximity. He blinked, and the tension bled out from his body, his fist unclenching. Clearing his throat, he adjusted his gaze, his body. Awkward once more. Your hand retreated, falling back onto your lap as you pulled away from him, allowing the moment to drop without any further comment.

Somewhere beyond the two of you, a breeze rustled the world of the dark into a faint stir, the sounds of it loud in comparison to the silence. You let out a slow, heavy breath, drawing in the cold air gratefully for the way it stung.

“Thank you for telling me. You know that…” You swallowed hard. “Anything you need of me, anything you ask… I’m with you to the end.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you… Of any of you,” Dimitri responded. “This is my duty, my burden alone to bear.”

“You don’t need to be alone,” you said softly.

Dimitri pulled in a sharp breath, his gaze once again fixing on you. Was that surprise? Distaste? You didn’t know, and he didn’t respond. Soon after, he looked away. Another trail of silence began. Just you and him and the millions of things you didn’t know, that you wished so desperately to understand.

“I should probably attempt to get some rest,” Dimitri said after a span. “Professor Byleth has already made it clear that he’ll drag me out for tea first thing.” He sighed. “I appreciate the effort, but I can’t say that I’m in much of a mood to celebrate.”

Panic spiked through you.

“Dimitri,” you said, your voice just a touch too loud as you looked at him, blinking yourself to clarity as something in his words registered. “It’s your birthday today.”

“So it is,” he replied.

You were so stupid to have forgotten! Well, not entirely forgotten. You had known it was coming up, you just assumed that you wouldn’t get the chance to give him his gift considering how distant he had been. Now your lyre felt heavy in your arms, and the song for the moon began to tease your thoughts once more. It was one of the first real original compositions you’d ever penned, a song for a man who had an admitted indifference towards music. Admittedly, you had bonded a sort of understanding with all of the musicians who had composed for King Lambert while writing it.

“Before you go, um, so... I didn’t know what to get you...” you began nervously.

“I didn’t expect anything,” Dimitri said as if to soothe you. He meant it, too, a fact that made you feel rather sad.

“Well, I didn’t get you anything, but I… I wrote you a song. It’s all I could think of that would be special, and I was thinking that when you’re king, every bard is going to write songs about you. Extolling your virtues and waxing endlessly about your battle prowess and jaw-dropping physique and kingly merits, but I’d like to be the first.” You paused in your mess of words, frowning as the question struck you. “I am your first, aren’t I?”

Dimitri looked, unless you were way off the mark, flustered. After thinking about what you had just said, you felt a bit of that yourself. Luckily, he played it off well.

“The first to write a song about me? I believe you would be.”

“That’s a relief,” you said with an overly dramatic sigh, trying to cover for your embarrassment. It helped, kind of. “Anyway, I know you don’t love music and if you don’t want it that’s fine, but I thought that it’d be… Uh… Well, you know…”

“Can you play it?” he asked.

“Yes, if you want,” you said, feeling a rush of nerves. Of course, you had hoped for him to ask, but hoping for something and having it happen were different matters entirely. Every musician wanted a chance to show off, but you were only partially a musician and you wanted most desperately to impress Dimitri. More than the goddess, even.

“Please,” he said, gesturing for you to play. You couldn’t tell if he was just humoring you or not. You hoped he wasn’t.

“It’s a short song, so don’t worry… It’s a lullaby, actually,” you explained, pulling your lyre out from beneath your cloak and testing the strings and your fingers. Luckily, talking had given them a chance to melt a bit. “I, um, I didn’t think that a gaudy ballad or anything would suit you. Or anything too upbeat. Perhaps one day, but for now… Well, I thought it was the best fit.” Dimitri didn’t say anything to your rambled thoughts, and you were far too embarrassed to look at him directly to see what expression he might have been wearing. But that was fine, you’d only been talking in order to give yourself a chance to get everything in order. “It doesn’t have a name yet, either, but… Uh, here goes.”

You took in a deep breath, holding it for just a moment before letting it out in a slow stream. A set of singular notes began the song, the ones you had been tinkering with earlier. They built up into a chord. Simple, the best lullabies were simple, even their introductions. Then, striking one chord to hold, you began to sing.

“Now close your eyes and hush your cries, though the dark surrounds you.”

You struck another chord as you savored the words, holding onto the notes just slightly. This was the first time you’d ever tasted them like this, and they were bittersweet. Luckily, the sound of your voice was greatly helped by the sound bouncing to and fro about the cliffside below, being returned back to you by the dark.

“Many have gone, and the night’s been long, but soon the sun will rise.” With your right hand, you layered in more chords to add a more firm compliment to your melody. The lyre wasn’t creating a happy sound, but not one that was overtly sad. She sounded melancholic, in a way. Somber, but also giving you a driving force for the next lines.

“Now comes the cold and horrors untold, the world torn asunder.”

Your fingers climbed the strings of your lute into a rising glissando, the other set of fingers adding a faint droning note to work off of.

"But Prince of Blue….

By the goddess, it was sad, wasn’t it? Dimitri. He was a tragic figure. Now more than ever you understood that as a fact.

“Stay brave, stay true…”

The discordant tri-tone shift downward propelled you forward, emotion pulling through your fingers and in your voice.

“The lion will prevail….”

Your voice pushed upwards a third, unraveling the melody into repeating itself.

“So don’t you cry...”

There was tension in the chord you hit, still. Unresolved conflict between the notes and the song, not one you had planned for, but it was right. Complete in the way that it was broken.

“Close your eyes…”

Another chord to compliment the echoed tri-tone shift, closer to what was needed to fulfill the sound, to make it whole, but not quite, not yet.

“Soon, the sun will rise.”

The instrumental resolution following that final phrase was simple, as simple as anything else. Three chords struck plain and not held. Sorrowful, but not dark. It hurt all the same, and as the final notes faded from your mind, you found that you wished they didn’t have to. It wasn’t the best song, and maybe it wasn’t even good, but that didn’t matter.

Your eyes were misty as you slowly pulled your lyre back against you, raising your gaze to look at your singular audience member. You’d never written a song for another person before, and certainly not like this. While performing you had felt a sense of separation, of strength and belief in your composition, but you suddenly realized that you had no idea what it might have sounded like. Making it even worse, Dimitri wore an expression you couldn’t read, his eyes fixed on you intently.

Anxiety twisted your insides as you waited for his deciding response, the seconds ticking by like years. Eventually, you found yourself too antsy to wait for him.

“Do you hate it?” you asked in a rush. “If you don’t like it I can… I can try another one, maybe a different type of song? Or different lyrics? Or….” Maybe this had been a bad idea, he had mentioned before that he wasn’t especially enthused about music in the first place. You had been too excitable about it. Too desperate. “You can be honest.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” he finally told you, the words' stiff. “It wasn’t what I expected… I suppose that I’m the Prince of Blue?”

You nodded.

“And the lion?”

“Us, all of us. Together.”

“I see…”

“You can be honest.”

“It’s a lovely song. I… I’m sorry to admit that I didn’t expect that.” He even managed to sound apologetic. “I’ve never had much interest in music.”

Relief crashed through you, your shoulders drooping a bit as you relaxed. “Before knowing you, I hated warm up routines,” you replied, striving for a casual smile and tone. “So… Maybe there’s hope for you yet?”

Dimitri snorted at the idea, at the perceived ridiculousness. He was probably right.

“Okay, maybe not,” you admitted. “I promise you next year I’ll get you a really cool sword or something.”

“Next year…” he mused. His expression wasn’t dark, but leading into to unsafe territory. You could only begin to guess at what he imagined for his future.

“Things will be different then, huh?” you said, frowning. It hurt to think of him leaving, going off to be king, to think of the reason why he couldn’t make any promises. In a year there would be no more clandestine night time meetings, sanctified by the moon. “I suppose time must continue forward. But that… That’s okay, isn’t it?” you asked. Then, your head tipped towards him, an impish smile spreading across your face. “For now you should probably be more concerned about tea with Professor Byleth.”

Dimitri blinked, his eyes focusing, but he laughed. “That’s true, I-”

“Your Highness,” a familiar low voice said, cutting through Dimitri’s words. Dedue. He stood behind the two of you, wearing an obvious look of concern. Likely for the potentially precarious position Dimitri was in. “I’ve been searching for you. I wish you would alert me before going out, it isn’t safe.”

“Ah, my apologies, Dedue,” Dimitri responded, returning to his stiffly conversational way of speaking. Posture equally stiff, he turned and swing off of the fence to the solid ground. “I didn’t intend to be out so long. We should be getting back.” Dimitri turned his head to you. “And you as well.”

“Yes, it’s late isn’t it?” The sky-bound moon had dragged across the sky in the time you’d been too absorbed in your worldly moon to notice, showing how late it was. You swiveled and hopped back to the ground, holding your lyre safely beneath your cloak. The case was in your room, one of the worst signs of your internal turmoil. But… that was fine. You didn’t want to take the time to place your lyre back in her case that right then. Not when you’d just won a victory of sorts. Victory always made you a special kind of fool.

“Goodnight Dedue,” you said, bowing slightly to the tall man. “And… Goodnight Dimitri. Happy birthday. This years gonna be a good one, I can feel it.” Smiling, nervous, and a bit jittery, you rose to your toes and kissed his cheek. Quickly, too fast for him to respond in any way. Like that first victory, months ago. And, just like that time, you turned tail straight away to make your escape, endlessly grateful that your block of dormitory rooms was in the opposite direction from theirs.

You hummed all the way back, a lullaby.