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Dimitri exits through two large double doors, the noise of celebrations behind him. After successfully liberating Fhirdiad from Cornelia, and ending the many years of oppression, the people clamored with joy. Soon following his appearance at the balcony overseeing the crowd on their victory, commoners and nobles alike rushed to throw a celebratory banquet throughout the city.
As much as Dimitri wished to share in the merriment, he was overwhelmed with the sheer amount of people who came to speak with him; compliments on his bravery, his strength in taking back the capital, and the charisma he held that led the people to rebel against their oppressors. He gave a tight smile, politely listening to each person giving their exaggerated praise. It didn’t escape his notice that those who spoke to him were well-dressed and of high standing. Cowards who no doubt wished to concede to the Kingdom, now that the Dukedom had fallen, currying favor to save their losses.
He gave the excuse of feeling weary from the celebrations, assuring to speak to the noblemen another time as he left the banquet hall to rest. Dimitri then found himself in a thinly populated hallway, where his mind wandered to Byleth. He hadn’t seen her since they stood in front of the crowd after reclaiming Fhirdiad.
The nobles spoke as if he was the one who freed the people, but no—Byleth and their allies, with their support were they able to push for victory. And it wasn’t a stretch for him to say it was thanks to her that he stood here today. If she didn’t reach out her hand to him that night in the rain, he was certain he’d be on his way to Enbarr and towards a fruitless death.
He longed to see her.
Dimitri caught sight of Sylvain, speaking with a group of women from across the hall, and made his way towards him. As he got closer, the women noticed his arrival and began whispering excitedly amongst themselves. He froze, his steps halting, almost tempted to speak with Sylvain until the group had left.
After being on the run for years, large crowds continue to unnerve him; it would still take some time before he’s able to suppress the urge to grab a weapon anytime he was in the company of strangers.
Sylvain must’ve seen how tense he was approaching. With just a few honey-coated words, he had the women disperse, promising to repay them the next time they visited.
“Hey, Your Highness! What can I do for you?” He said casually.
“Thank you for that, Sylvain… Have you’ve seen the Professor?”
“The Professor…?” He mused. “Just before the celebrations started actually, something about exploring the castle since it could be her last chance to check it out.”
“...I see. Do you happen to know where she could have gone?”
Sylvain merely shrugged. “Beats me, though it did seem like she had something on her mind.” An impish grin appeared on his face. “Why? You have some secret rendezvous with the Professor?”
Had Dimitri been his younger self, he would’ve reproached Sylvain for suggesting something uncouth regarding their professor. Now? He found he didn’t quite mind if others assumed something between the two of them. “No, not exactly…”
“Huh... damn, I half expected you to deck me, wouldn’t be the first time.” He said surprised, before shifting into a more pensive mood. “Anyways, keep your guard up, Your Highness. Now that we’ve retaken Fhirdiad, nobles have been flocking to the capital to get in our good graces. And ever since we took back the castle, they’ve been especially loud now about how a former mercenary’s at a high-ranking position in the army.” He gave a mirthless smile.
Dimitri’s eye narrowed, “That mercenary is someone who helped retake the city, never mind how she kept the army together and paved our way to victory, while I was... indisposed.” His low voice tinged with annoyance.
While he had turned his back on his people in favor of granting the dead their reprieve. Byleth had taken up the mantle to handle both the Church and Kingdom forces. He remembers that heartbreaking smile on her face one night in the cathedral when she came to visit him. He had venomously rebuffed her, said her presence was an eyesore; that no matter what she did, if it did not lead him to Edelgard, then it was pointless. Regarding everything else? He simply did not care.
He clenched his hands.
“Whoa there, big guy.” Sylvain raised his hands. “Of course all of us knows that. They, on the other hand, see it as some opportunist who somehow got into Rhea’s good graces and now their King’s.”
“They know nothing,” Dimitri said, darkly.
“Yeah, they don’t,” Sylvain agrees with a dour look, then sighs. “Look, all I’m saying is maybe all this talk is getting to the Professor. And maybe she wanted to distance herself from all that. Just… y’know, watch out for her.”
“Of course," Dimitri immediately replies, nodding. “You’re a good man, Sylvain. I’m sure the Professor's appreciative of your concern.”
“Right... concern.” He gave a wry smile. “Anyways, I’ve got some ladies to chat up with back at the party. If you end up finding her, well, don’t stay up too late.”
“What—”
Sylvain winks with a wave of his hand, walking back to the banquet hall, and leaving Dimitri alone in his thoughts.
Byleth aimlessly wanders the castle walkway, away from the din of celebration, and away from the pesky nobles who bombarded her with inquiries. She wanted to sample the delicious cuisines lined up on the tables, but before the banquet even started, they stood in the way of filling her stomach.
They had exchanged polite words—which were coated with derision. Words that were barbed with jabs on her commoner heritage and past occupation as a mercenary. The flowery and roundabout way nobles would use to insult someone. Some were even surprised to see the ‘Ashen Demon’ as the strategist of the army; one who used to cut down others without remorse or care, someone who now directed who lived or died, they said.
And the expressions of her friends—who accompanied Byleth to taste the food together—as they confronted the nobles; Ingrid’s fierce face as she called them out for their disrespectful behavior, Ashe’s scowl as he balled his fists in anger, and Dedue’s hardened eyes as he stared with muted fury—a deep frown pulling at his lips.
Past the nobles' mocking tone and appalled faces, her friends jumping to her defense touched Byleth. How baffled they seemed, to see those who would defend the honor of one who was the emotionless ‘Ashen Demon’. Soon the people took aim at her former students, spurning them with insults as well.
This quickly did not sit well with Byleth, her anger rising, so she put a stop by loudly clapping her hands—drawing eyes from around the hall. This was a time of celebration as they all had just recently liberated the capital, and talks such as these were best left in favor of merriment, she said. With attention drawn to their little group, the disgruntled nobles soon took their leave, muttering under their breath. The group’s mood had soured from that interaction.
Byleth had thanked her friends, urging them to try the food to help lift their spirits—without her. At their worried expressions, she assured them she was fine. A walk around the castle would serve to calm her mind since she lost her appetite anyway.
She almost bumped into Sylvain on her way out, his surprise look prompting an apology from her. She needed to cool off, her irritation still simmering inside, so she gave a flimsy excuse of going out to explore the castle. He didn’t buy it—she knew he wouldn’t, questions lingering in his eyes—but he said nothing of it. Sylvain told her to take care not to get cold and headed inside where their friends were.
The nobles made her evening so unpleasant... after the hard-fought battle, Byleth was looking forward to eating. With a sigh, she walked.
As Byleth walked, she closed her eyes. It’s hard not to agree with them. She hardly remembers much from the beginning of her youth, other than being emotionally stunted. Many kept their distance, unnerved by her static demeanor, or whenever she spoke—monotone and curt—they were put off as they thought she didn’t care.
Then after coming to Garreg Mach, she started to feel many things. Although, at the beginning of the academic year, wasn’t Dimitri baffled by how she was as well? He was polite with her, of course, but disturbed at her indifference in battles and lack of emotion; he had said so himself, even the other students didn’t know what to make of her.
So when had he begun to change? Was it after their first mission to the Red Canyon, during their time training orphans on how to wield a weapon, or when she had truly smiled for the first time after they rescued Flayn?
She cherished the time she spent with him, could feel herself open up to the emotions that eluded her during her childhood. It was thanks to the Blue Lions and Dimitri that led her to discover something about herself; that though her heart didn’t beat, she wasn’t unfeeling. That she enjoyed helping others and worried when they got hurt. That every time she was with Dimitri, a warm tickling sensation washed over her.
She asked Sothis once about what this feeling was. It only ever happened when she was with the House Leader. The floating girl simply laughed, telling her that she’d understand in time, merely waving her off with a vague answer.
Byleth smiled, the memories warming her from the cold chill in the air—
‘You are an eyesore, get out of my sight’
She comes to a halt, a recent one resurfacing in her mind.
She didn’t think the first words out his mouth would be that, and honestly, the words had stung. It was the norm lately, visit Dimitri and check up on him, be turned away—albeit harshly, visit him again, be turned away again, rinse and repeat.
She pretended not to hear, ‘Dimitri, we need to discuss going through the Kingdom instead of the Empire. Our supplies are dwindling and we’re halfway to having no resources, even with Rodrigue her—’
‘You are wasting your breath,‘ He snarled. ‘Repeating the same nonsense, ridiculous. I could care less which path we took so long as it gets us quicker to Enbarr, and quicker to that woman.'
We won’t be going anywhere if we run out of supplies before then, she thought. He turned towards her with a scowl, the piercing glare drilling holes into her. She... didn’t say that out loud, did she?
‘I tire of this. If you have nothing better to say, leave and stop wasting my time.’ He continued glaring, huffing out the words 'useless' before turning back to face the fallen rubble. Byleth stared at his back with a pained smile. She knew he didn’t mean the words he said, that deep down, he did care—though that didn't stop it from hurting.
With his malicious words and negative reaction towards her, it was plain for Byleth to see that he cared little for her. Nonetheless, she would still do her best protect him; and if he did care at all for the others, she'd do her best to protect them too—even if she wasn’t on that list…
Byleth brought a hand towards her face, she shouldn’t be thinking about this. A memory better left in the past. Dimitri shook off the dead’s heavy grip on him that he’s finally moving forward. He still struggles when he’s left alone to his thoughts or when something reminds him of his time on the run; it’ll be a while before he’s okay and he probably won’t be for a long time, but he’s doing better, and that's enough for her.
She continues to walk.
And walk.
Till Byleth’s certain she’s walked somewhere—where she’s lost. She’s tempted to backtrack until she sees vines snaking around two large pillars. Past the pillars is an open space, a pebbled pathway that led into a beautiful flowered garden.
The lightly fallen snow blanketed the greenery. The garden oversaw the bustling capital below, the lights from lit torches illuminating the merry city in a subtle warm glow. The scenic view was breathtaking. Byleth could feel her mood lighten.
Wanting a closer look at the now liberated city, Byleth decides to sit. As she wiped away the snow from a nearby bench, she was thankful one of the castle’s attendants offered a furred cloak once they saw her heading outside.
The weather wasn’t bad, but the slight breeze ran a chill through her body and Byleth wished she had clothes suited for the Faerghan climate. Sure, seeing the majority of her former students from Faerghus dressed in snug garments should’ve tipped her off, but Byleth was rather fond of her outfit to do any last-minute changes; especially her patterned tights, a gift her father bought so quickly because she expressed an interest in them.
A rare occurrence for her to act her age, he had laughed, ruffling her hair. She may not have remembered much from her childhood, but she remembers that. Her father was so happy as if it was her giving him a gift and not the other way around. The corners of her lips turned up into a small grin as she reminisced about the past.
Satisfied, Byleth sat on the cold seat, staring at the view. She exhaled, watching the white mist fill the air. Dimitri must’ve seen this many times as a boy. It was… nice imagining him, here back when he was most likely happier. She meant to explore the castle, to see where he grew up, but she was content just staring at the city below and imagining him as a child. Much better out here than inside where nobles would loudly whisper about her.
Look at that hair, I heard she was touched by the Goddess. It’s no wonder Lady Rhea favored her.
Does she feel no shame dressing like that?
I suppose she must if she wishes to keep her position from her male counterparts since they’re too busy gawking at her body. Why, I believe some have already attempted to dally with her.
How do you suppose someone that young was able to command this army? She must be just a figurehead.
All those petty whispers, loud enough for her to hear. Yes, someone tried putting their hands on her, and no sooner did they try their backs were on the ground with her blade pointed at their throats. Sakes alive, they were at war, did they talk out of their asses just because they were bored? She’s amazed but also unsettled that this is something Dimitri and their friends of nobility would have to deal with.
She already wants to throw down every single one of them; that would be so much easier. If they found her offensive then a duel to settle things would be easier than the roundabout way of speaking behind her back.
It really didn’t bother her.
But…
But Byleth dreaded having her friends judged because of her or anything related to her. It didn't help that they were already taking the brunt of the nobles' whispers. They didn't have to tell her either, because she was already aware. The whispers were there even before they came to Fhirdiad.
Byleth grabbed a fistful of snow. I came out here to relax, she scolded. She began mashing the snow in her palms, focusing on the numbing cold. Her mind wandered, a certain blond prince filling her head as she went back to imagining him in the garden.
It took Dimitri a while to finally find the Professor. Surrounded by the snow-covered garden, Byleth sat on one of the benches. He was surprised Cornelia didn’t tear down the garden out of spite when she took the castle as her own. She didn’t appear to notice him, too busy mashing snow in her hands; which he saw became smooth and round. She wore a blue-furred cloak, most likely borrowed from one of the castle’s staff. She fit so seamlessly among the flowers—even covered with snow as they were—that Dimitri couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to see her every day, here, in the castle.
“Professor?”
Byleth jolted, then turned. Perhaps surprised at seeing him there, her eyes widened before schooling back to her stoic features, a small smile gracing her lips. “Finished with the banquet?” she asked.
“Ah, no I was actually looking for you.”
She blinked, “For me?” She sounded so astonished.
He nodded, taking a few steps towards the bench she sat on. “Do you mind if I…?” He gestured to the empty spot. Byleth shook her head.
“Not at all, go right ahead.” She scooted aside a bit to give him space.
A brief silence fell over them, though not uncomfortable. “So,” Byleth turned to face him and with a friendly tone asked, “What did you need?”
Dimitri hummed, “I didn’t need anything specifically. There were many assortments of dishes at the banquet hall and I was just curious as to where you went.”
“It... it felt a bit stuffy, so I came to get some fresh air,” Byleth turned her head, stiffly responding.
If Dimitri believed what Sylvain had said, then she would have gone outside to avoid the nobles. He gave some thought before speaking, “You know, Professor... the others and I are extremely grateful to you; and I, especially, cannot put into words how thankful I am that you were here beside me—” He coughed. “Beside, us.”
It was a while before Byleth turned to face him again, but instead of the impassive face he thought she’d have, she had a pink flush highlighting her appearance. Her eyes lit with confusion as her lips were somewhere between a frown and a smile, unable to choose a suitable expression. “What, uh, brought this on?" She asked, taken aback.
“I thought you should know that no matter what anyone says, you are our cherished professor, and we hold you in high regard no matter what anyone may say.” Dimitri softly spoke.
“Oh. So you heard.” Byleth said tightly, turning forward to stare into the distance; it wasn’t phrased as a question but merely a statement. Dimitri didn’t say anything, and just like her, he turned his head to stare at the scenery in front of them.
“I—” she paused, before speaking again in a quiet tone. “It doesn't bother me.”
“Truly?”
Byleth hesitated, fiddling with her thumbs before finally sighing. “Yes, they don’t bother me much, but… it got to the point where people would speak poorly of the others whenever they saw me with them. And…”
“And?” he coaxed.
“... And I thought it would be better for me to be out here than to have all that talk ruin everyone’s evening.”
Dimitri wasn’t able to see what sort of expression she wore; even her tone was leveled. Frustration began to swell inside him. He was frustrated that Byleth distanced herself in order to protect everyone from rumors, frustrated at how the nobles cared little of her achievements in the war—or how wonderful an instructor she was, but most of all, Dimitri was frustrated with himself.
Someone he deeply cared for was being slandered, and from how Byleth spoke, it seemed to be an ongoing occurrence. His mind wandered back to what Sylvain had said, 'Ever since we took back the castle, they’ve been especially loud now.' So, the nobles were wagging their tongues even during the time he was madly driven on revenge.
“This is hardly your fault, Professor.” He couldn’t help the anger in his voice. “The blame lies with those that speak without truly knowing anything.” He knew his face showed some bearing of his rage but that’s hardly his concern at this point.
“I care little what others may think of me… except for you,” Dimitri lowered his voice as he gave a pained expression. “So please do not distance yourself in order to defend our honor. You stood by me, even when I turned you away, so I’d like to become your strength whenever you have need of it. No matter the circumstances. I want to be there for you, just as you have for me.”
Byleth’s flabbergasted look was a welcome change compared to the sad smile she wore before, perhaps taken aback by his straightforwardness. “Even… through sickness and health?” She quietly asked.
“Yes, through sickness and health.” Huh, that sounded oddly familiar.
A playful smile tugged on her lips. “Is that a proposal, Your Highness?”
Dimitri stared dumbly before the implications of what she said dawned on him. “I—” His mind blanked, he could feel his face redden from the embarrassment of what he suggested—a trap Byleth mischievously placed that he fell happily into—and the use of his title, which he rarely heard from her, if ever. He was at a loss of words, and more than likely the flush had spread across to his ears and neck.
A light-hearted laugh filled the air, breaking Dimitri from his turbulent emotions.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to tease you,” She chuckled before letting out a refreshing sigh. “But I feel better now, so…” She glanced at him. “Thank you, Dimitri.” She turns away with a smile, but his gaze is pulled towards the pinkened tips of her ears.
Dimitri holds his breath, contemplating whether he should pursue his line of thought, and with one breath asked, “If I were… would that offend you?”
Byleth faces him in surprise, mouth slightly parted with widened eyes, “What?”
Holding her gaze, he repeats, boldly, “If I were to propose to you, would you be offended?” Somehow the space between them seemed large, chasm-like; grabbing hold of that confident feeling, he shifted closer—just enough that if he reached out, he could tuck that loose strand behind her ear.
“No—” Then Byleth quickly stands, mumbling to herself.
The pinkish tips of her ears gradually redden. Something possessive within him relished at her reaction, despite her impassive face. Would her response be the same with anyone else? He’d like to believe not. The idea of someone else witnessing these moments of Byleth was… he pushes the thought aside, intent on drawing more from her.
Dimitri gently grasps her wrist, “No?” She stays silent. When he pulls, she goes willingly. Byleth stood between his knees, facing him while he sat, though pointedly staring everywhere but at him.
“No what, Professor?” He whispered, searching her face for any signs of discomfort. She allowed him to continue holding her, minutes going by until she resolved whatever it was that had her hesitating. Byleth slightly pulls back her hand, turning them so they now rest within his. They felt cold, a telling sign of how long she sat outside. He gently squeezes her hands.
And she squeezes back. “No… I wouldn’t mind at all.” She softly spoke. A bashful appearance overtook her features as her eyes finally stared into his own.
At her answer, Dimitri smiled. A smile so bright, he could feel how effortlessly it graced his lips; one that felt as natural as the smiles he gave to Byleth during their tea sessions a lifetime ago.
A small gasp escaped from Byleth. It had been so long since he smiled like this, it was no wonder she was surprised. She gave a smile of her own—that mesmerizing smile he loved seeing on her.
Silence fell over them as the faint laughter from the banquet could be heard. Byleth slowly untangled one of her hands to cup his face. He shivers.
She gives an airy laugh, “Sorry, my hands must be cold.” She starts to pull away, but Dimitri covers her hand with his own and leans into her touch.
“No,” he whispered. No, that wasn’t why he shivered. The way she carefully held him, a soft touch that conveyed more than what she would say, and the way she looked at him. Like he wasn’t undeserving of love, that it was alright for him to be vulnerable, and that things would be alright. He had an inkling back at the academy what this feeling was, but he chose to ignore it in favor of pursuing revenge. But with Byleth standing before him now, he knew since long ago, that he had fallen for her. That he loved her.
Her other hand came up to lightly pat his head, “Are you sure? I’ve been out here for some time, you know.”
Dimitri closed his eye to savor her touch. “Yes,” he replied. “In fact, I find them quite warm.” Her touch sent a comforting warmth through him.
“Hmm, is that so?” Byleth's voice sounded oddly high-pitched, before she coughed, then hummed.
They stayed like that for a brief moment, until Dimitri suddenly reminded himself that she was still standing. He gently tugged her hand. “Would you like to accompany me out here? …If, of course, you aren’t too tired.” He asked, sheepishly.
“Sure, but,” with a teasing smirk, Byleth quirked a brow. “They aren’t gonna send a search party for their missing king, are they?”
“Ah,” He may as well spill the beans, so to speak. “Truthfully, I excused myself as I also found it rather stuffy. For others to come to me with praises that I did not deserve… but more than that, I wanted… to see you.”
“Wanted to see me obliterate the food tables, huh?”
He gave a deep laugh, “Yes, well, that’s certainly true. They did have a wide range of cuisines there but, really, I just wanted to see you.”
Withdrawing her touch, Byleth sat back down beside Dimitri with a small laugh, “Well, look no further, you have me now.”
His eye crinkled in tenderness, “I suppose I do.”
Even though her hands left, Dimitri could still feel the warmth radiating from her body beside him. This moment, side by side with her felt so wonderful; something he thought could only ever happen in his dreams.
He would savor it.
They still had a war to get through, but once it was over… Dimitri would like to fulfill that dream of his; one where he could see Byleth every day, here in his home at Fhiridiad Castle.
He chanced a glance at her and their eyes met. A secret smile rose on Byleth, he returned it with one of his own as they began to speak idly of nonsensical things.
Yes, he would savor this moment.
And he would embrace these feelings he had for her with delight.