dimitri alexandre blaiddyd (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
royalboar) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
finalflight2019-11-15 01:54 am
royalboar) wrote in finalflight2019-11-15 01:54 am
I have long pants in my room.
[she clarifies without putting much stock on the question, or how much of a dumbass dimitri really is. ah, her star pupil. byleth does, at least, try to clarify with an easy hand motion.]
For the cold.
Do you wish to see them?
[this is the kind of twist this conversation isn't expected to take, but truth be told, the invitation has her feeling a little lightheaded and a lot relieved. who would say no to the king of fhirdiad if he made a decision about things now?]
[she clarifies without putting much stock on the question, or how much of a dumbass dimitri really is. ah, her star pupil. byleth does, at least, try to clarify with an easy hand motion.]
For the cold.
Do you wish to see them?
[this is the kind of twist this conversation isn't expected to take, but truth be told, the invitation has her feeling a little lightheaded and a lot relieved. who would say no to the king of fhirdiad if he made a decision about things now?]
[Leave his single brain cell alone. It isn’t his fault that Byleth skips over several steps in a conversation, making him struggle to find the abandoned context clues! He tries.
For the cold, though— Oh.]
I... yes, if you wish to show them to me.
[This is good, right? Wait, hold on.]
For the Faerghus winters, correct? Does that mean you will agree to go?
For the cold, though— Oh.]
I... yes, if you wish to show them to me.
[This is good, right? Wait, hold on.]
For the Faerghus winters, correct? Does that mean you will agree to go?
[byleth already sets a brisk pace towards the dormitories, stopping only when dimitri questions her again for clarification. the look she gives him is somewhat puzzled, as if it's somehow crazy that it's not clear enough that she wishes to go with him? must she really spell it out?]
[a flush enraptures her cheeks as she nods.]
I want to go with you, Dimitri.
[in case she needs to clarify the whole 'you' being singular you, not plural you...]
[and she turns again, hurrying over towards the dormitories yet again.]
[a flush enraptures her cheeks as she nods.]
I want to go with you, Dimitri.
[in case she needs to clarify the whole 'you' being singular you, not plural you...]
[and she turns again, hurrying over towards the dormitories yet again.]
Edited 2019-11-15 19:53 (UTC)
[Byleth must be trying to kill him with words like that, because they catch him so off-guard, making his heart still in his chest. Coupled with that look she gives him (is her face tinged with pink?), he lingers where he stands for a moment too long, turning the simple statement around in his head; he wants to go with him? Specifically? Or, despite her clarification, did she meant that the idea of going to Fhirdiad pleases her?
His nerves tingle with wayward… excitement. It falls over him in a wave, and Goddess, suddenly he feels seventeen again and watching her depart, he has to force his own feet to move else he stands gawking for too long. It's a miracle he manages to put his sword away before they leave the area.
The rational, reasonable part of his brain tells him, as he lengthens his strides to catch up with her, that this feeling is the same as five years ago — a revelation that warrants an “oh no” somewhere deep in his thought process, having once believed it dead and buried after his stint as a vagrant killed off all other emotion.
He’s starting to think he believed wrong.
Swallowing thickly, Dimitri continues following until they near the dormitories.]
So you are going to show me your… pants?
[Somewhere, Sylvain is probably laughing.]
His nerves tingle with wayward… excitement. It falls over him in a wave, and Goddess, suddenly he feels seventeen again and watching her depart, he has to force his own feet to move else he stands gawking for too long. It's a miracle he manages to put his sword away before they leave the area.
The rational, reasonable part of his brain tells him, as he lengthens his strides to catch up with her, that this feeling is the same as five years ago — a revelation that warrants an “oh no” somewhere deep in his thought process, having once believed it dead and buried after his stint as a vagrant killed off all other emotion.
He’s starting to think he believed wrong.
Swallowing thickly, Dimitri continues following until they near the dormitories.]
So you are going to show me your… pants?
[Somewhere, Sylvain is probably laughing.]
That way you will know that I am more than ready for the cold.
[she skips up the two steps which lead up to her dormitory. many of these rooms are no longer in use, their previous occupants no longer part of the militia that runs in the monastery. regardless of the fact, byleth swings the doors open to her room and heads inside, fetching through her draws to pick out and unfold what would be ... pants.]
[turning around, she presents them to him, fitting in black.]
I have more of these, too. Laundry day will not be a problem.
[she skips up the two steps which lead up to her dormitory. many of these rooms are no longer in use, their previous occupants no longer part of the militia that runs in the monastery. regardless of the fact, byleth swings the doors open to her room and heads inside, fetching through her draws to pick out and unfold what would be ... pants.]
[turning around, she presents them to him, fitting in black.]
I have more of these, too. Laundry day will not be a problem.
[Dimitri finds himself hovering at the entrance of her open door; despite the tea parties she’s thrown in her room before, it feels odd for him to encroach when she’s rifling around in her drawers.
Or maybe now he’s just overly aware of... propriety.]
I like them.
[What else is there to say? He does. She would look good in all black pants.
Dimitri clears his throat.]
Though... Faerghus winters are quite unkind. You would have to prepare yourself with more than just a few pairs of long pants, Professor.
Or maybe now he’s just overly aware of... propriety.]
I like them.
[What else is there to say? He does. She would look good in all black pants.
Dimitri clears his throat.]
Though... Faerghus winters are quite unkind. You would have to prepare yourself with more than just a few pairs of long pants, Professor.
[she does realize that, but she also figures that long pants would be a start, separate from her usual combination of shorts and boots. it is only after dimitri's approval that she folds the pants back and sets them aside on the table, before considering his advice.]
What would you recommend?
[a tilt of her head follows, because while she has her own ideas, why not hear from someone with actual experience on the matter?]
What would you recommend?
[a tilt of her head follows, because while she has her own ideas, why not hear from someone with actual experience on the matter?]
[Nodding, he crosses his arms and leans his shoulder slightly against the frame of her door.]
Thick gloves, for instance, else your fingers will go numb within the first five minutes of standing outside. Your sword hand will be useless.
[A shoulder shrugs to punctuate the fur draped at his collar, wreathed in warmth.]
A cloak much like this one will also not go astray.
Thick gloves, for instance, else your fingers will go numb within the first five minutes of standing outside. Your sword hand will be useless.
[A shoulder shrugs to punctuate the fur draped at his collar, wreathed in warmth.]
A cloak much like this one will also not go astray.
Hm.
[she pauses in consideration, nodding at his words. pants, gloves, and a cloak. she wonders where she can get any of the latter two that would be good enough for withstanding that kind of inclement weather while they remain in the warmer lands of fodlan.]
I will have to make sure I get all those items you've recommended, then. [—although] I doubt I can find a cloak like yours. It's specially tailored, isn't it?
[she pauses in consideration, nodding at his words. pants, gloves, and a cloak. she wonders where she can get any of the latter two that would be good enough for withstanding that kind of inclement weather while they remain in the warmer lands of fodlan.]
I will have to make sure I get all those items you've recommended, then. [—although] I doubt I can find a cloak like yours. It's specially tailored, isn't it?
It is.
[The crest of Faerghus, placed across the back of his inordinately long royal blue cloak, is proof of that. Though it often remains obscured beneath the fur draped over the top of the cloth.
He pauses, then decides to be bold enough to step into her room. Dimitri smiles faintly at her.]
It should not be difficult to commission one similar to this one. We could match.
[Aha. He’s fond of that idea, for some reason.]
Though perhaps you could borrow mine until then?
[The crest of Faerghus, placed across the back of his inordinately long royal blue cloak, is proof of that. Though it often remains obscured beneath the fur draped over the top of the cloth.
He pauses, then decides to be bold enough to step into her room. Dimitri smiles faintly at her.]
It should not be difficult to commission one similar to this one. We could match.
[Aha. He’s fond of that idea, for some reason.]
Though perhaps you could borrow mine until then?
Match.
[she repeats quietly, curiously, mostly to herself. she doesn't mind dimitri stepping inside; the invitation was always there, and his presence is now a source of comfort, now that the worst of storms have passed and he has returned to what his former self was like, despite the skeletons clutching tight onto the cloak that drags after him.]
[byleth likes the idea, too. of matching.]
You won't get cold? [questioning this momentarily, she takes a step forward towards him. a hand on his shoulder presses down onto the gray and black fur.] I think it's a bit too big for me. [a raise of her eyebrows.] Just a bit, though.
[she repeats quietly, curiously, mostly to herself. she doesn't mind dimitri stepping inside; the invitation was always there, and his presence is now a source of comfort, now that the worst of storms have passed and he has returned to what his former self was like, despite the skeletons clutching tight onto the cloak that drags after him.]
[byleth likes the idea, too. of matching.]
You won't get cold? [questioning this momentarily, she takes a step forward towards him. a hand on his shoulder presses down onto the gray and black fur.] I think it's a bit too big for me. [a raise of her eyebrows.] Just a bit, though.
[He mirrors her expression, just a small lift of a brow that loses itself in the blond stands falling across his forehead. His amusement appears to spark when she rests her hand in the thick fur of his cloak.]
Only a slight amount.
[More than slight — Dimitri has grown in the years since he was a student, and Byleth has remained the same. His cloak would absolutely engulf her, but the mental image is rather intriguing.
Enough that he steps back just enough to remove said cloak. It shrugs off with practiced ease, leaving him only in black armor, and he holds it out to Byleth.]
And no, I am fairly resilient to the cold, cloak or otherwise. Would you like to try it on?
Only a slight amount.
[More than slight — Dimitri has grown in the years since he was a student, and Byleth has remained the same. His cloak would absolutely engulf her, but the mental image is rather intriguing.
Enough that he steps back just enough to remove said cloak. It shrugs off with practiced ease, leaving him only in black armor, and he holds it out to Byleth.]
And no, I am fairly resilient to the cold, cloak or otherwise. Would you like to try it on?
[byleth wonders for a moment about what she should do—the whole situation feels rather warm, friendly in a way that it hasn't quite been before with dimitri. her heartbeat frantic, but not to the point of it being unbearable. her eyes scrutinize the blond before him, before she stands closer.]
It'll be really warm.
[she points out, but is otherwise inclined to try it on.]
I always wondered what it would feel like to wear it.
It'll be really warm.
[she points out, but is otherwise inclined to try it on.]
I always wondered what it would feel like to wear it.
[It’s a casual air that’s settling between them, one that oddly puts Dimitri at ease, filing down the jagged edges of his nerves from mere minutes ago. He likes being able to speak with her in this way, wishing every moment could be so airy, that there was not a war looming over their heads like a knife about to drop.
It’s nice to pretend, though, that their responsibilities have dissipated, if only for a moment.]
Here.
[She’s standing close (very close, his mind supplies), so it’s easy enough to reach over and wrap the cloak around her shoulders.
It’s so big on her. The fur looks like it might devour her alive, and the bottom pools along the floor. She might as well use it as a blanket instead.]
Ah... close to a perfect fit.
[A light joke. It’s not at all.]
It’s nice to pretend, though, that their responsibilities have dissipated, if only for a moment.]
Here.
[She’s standing close (very close, his mind supplies), so it’s easy enough to reach over and wrap the cloak around her shoulders.
It’s so big on her. The fur looks like it might devour her alive, and the bottom pools along the floor. She might as well use it as a blanket instead.]
Ah... close to a perfect fit.
[A light joke. It’s not at all.]
[it is really big, and she feels like a child enveloped within it. but it's snug, warm, soft, and byleth can't help but look about in wonder as the blue cloak pools around her and easy wraps around her shoulders, leaving a lot more left to go around her still.]
[she closes her eyes, let's this feeling course through her until she feels very, very comfortable with it—her face buries into the fur. until—]
[opening her eyes again, she scans the room and removes her chair from under the desk, and cautiously stands atop it. she towers a bit over dimitri, but not by much. the cloak doesn't reach the ground like this.]
I'll just have to stand on a chair all the time whenever I wear this.
[..whenever...she...wears...this..]
[she closes her eyes, let's this feeling course through her until she feels very, very comfortable with it—her face buries into the fur. until—]
[opening her eyes again, she scans the room and removes her chair from under the desk, and cautiously stands atop it. she towers a bit over dimitri, but not by much. the cloak doesn't reach the ground like this.]
I'll just have to stand on a chair all the time whenever I wear this.
[..whenever...she...wears...this..]
[their progress into a relationship is, by all means, a glacial pace kind of commitment. with the war moving along as it does, losses in the battlefield and drawing ever closer to a conclusion that makes all of them restless, there has been a kind of solace found in quiet talks and shared fears and holding each other tight. byleth isn't sure she does very well at expressing how much it means to her—dimitri's almost blind trust towards her and the way his gaze softens when their eyes meet.]
[and while little is questioned in terms of who grows closer with whom, byleth finds solace in knowing that her feelings are very much returned, and that those around her jest and tease dimitri, confirming that yes, in fact, this much is true.]
[ghosts and regrets still haunt the young king to be, however, and byleth is familiar with nightmares that seem too real. she witnesses her beloved's desperate thrashing in his sleep far too often, and tonight, while sleep escapes her, she is not surprised to see him walking about the monastery—his expression that of a man lost, mumbling to himself.]
Dimitri.
[she calls quietly, but loud enough to be heard in the courtyard, and makes her way towards him—a hand immediately seeking his own, concern on her face.]
Can't sleep?
[the answer is clear, but she wishes to give him the opportunity to says what he wishes and keep locked away what he wants.]
[and while little is questioned in terms of who grows closer with whom, byleth finds solace in knowing that her feelings are very much returned, and that those around her jest and tease dimitri, confirming that yes, in fact, this much is true.]
[ghosts and regrets still haunt the young king to be, however, and byleth is familiar with nightmares that seem too real. she witnesses her beloved's desperate thrashing in his sleep far too often, and tonight, while sleep escapes her, she is not surprised to see him walking about the monastery—his expression that of a man lost, mumbling to himself.]
Dimitri.
[she calls quietly, but loud enough to be heard in the courtyard, and makes her way towards him—a hand immediately seeking his own, concern on her face.]
Can't sleep?
[the answer is clear, but she wishes to give him the opportunity to says what he wishes and keep locked away what he wants.]
[Byleth appears to be taking to it, looking so small when wrapped up in his cloak. It’s a sight that makes his heart beat erratically for what must be the third time today, and Dimitri is almost sorry that he will have to interrupt her cloak-covered reverie.
But he doesn’t have to. Suddenly, she’s moving, stranding on her chair, and he has to tilt his head up to look at her, blinking.
Then chuckles, light and disbelieving.]
Do you plan on wearing it that often? And even with the chair, you look like you are hiding inside of my cloak, Professor.
But he doesn’t have to. Suddenly, she’s moving, stranding on her chair, and he has to tilt his head up to look at her, blinking.
Then chuckles, light and disbelieving.]
Do you plan on wearing it that often? And even with the chair, you look like you are hiding inside of my cloak, Professor.
[Though he has promised to no longer be chained to the ghosts of the dead, they still choose to haunt him some nights.
As the war continues, battles culminating and climbing towards to the apex of its end, stress and exhaustion is felt across the Kingdom’s ranks. Dimitri feels it just as poignantly as the rest, if not more, and this invites the headaches to become more prominent, to hear and see fragments of the dead after he wakes from harried nightmares.
The chilled, outdoor air of the monastery is a distraction on nights like these. Even when ghosts tail his step from afar, and he has to tell them, in low tones, to leave him be. That he will not be tied to their insatiable will any longer.
But one voice rings brighter in the night, from across the courtyard and pulling his attention in Byleth’s direction. His look, tired and stressed, softens immediately. His hand seeks her own on instinct, drawing her close to him.]
Professor... no, I cannot. Dreams and headaches keep me awake tonight. And bone-deep exhaustion.
[The dead, too, if she had heard his mumblings. But ever one to care more about her than himself, of course he asks—]
And yourself? It is late, and impossibly cold out. You should be warm in your bed.
As the war continues, battles culminating and climbing towards to the apex of its end, stress and exhaustion is felt across the Kingdom’s ranks. Dimitri feels it just as poignantly as the rest, if not more, and this invites the headaches to become more prominent, to hear and see fragments of the dead after he wakes from harried nightmares.
The chilled, outdoor air of the monastery is a distraction on nights like these. Even when ghosts tail his step from afar, and he has to tell them, in low tones, to leave him be. That he will not be tied to their insatiable will any longer.
But one voice rings brighter in the night, from across the courtyard and pulling his attention in Byleth’s direction. His look, tired and stressed, softens immediately. His hand seeks her own on instinct, drawing her close to him.]
Professor... no, I cannot. Dreams and headaches keep me awake tonight. And bone-deep exhaustion.
[The dead, too, if she had heard his mumblings. But ever one to care more about her than himself, of course he asks—]
And yourself? It is late, and impossibly cold out. You should be warm in your bed.
It might be my new battle strategy.
[she says, humoring him, unable to find her arms underneath all the soft blue. she pushes past, though, eventually, only to readjust the cloak on her shoulders some, her green mint hair caught on the collar.]
[in a moment, though, she reaches forward and pats his head - like she would to a puppy.]
You've grown a lot, Dimitri. [and an echo, perhaps, to a conversation they had before, five years ago.] I'm happy to hear you laugh again, even if it is at my expense.
[she says, humoring him, unable to find her arms underneath all the soft blue. she pushes past, though, eventually, only to readjust the cloak on her shoulders some, her green mint hair caught on the collar.]
[in a moment, though, she reaches forward and pats his head - like she would to a puppy.]
You've grown a lot, Dimitri. [and an echo, perhaps, to a conversation they had before, five years ago.] I'm happy to hear you laugh again, even if it is at my expense.
Edited 2019-11-16 03:50 (UTC)
[her worry is prominent on her face where her words are lacking, frowning at his admission that his head is swarmed with too much noise to allow himself easy rest. she only needs to see his expression before realizing just how bad it really is.]
I wanted to see you.
[it's more than that, clearly. byleth's worry kept her awake, aware of the torment and pressure dimitri must be under. if she can provide him solace, even if temporary, then she can rest easier that way. it would soothe her own nerves, too, to be at his side, as it has become a customary feeling at this point.]
[she looks up at him.]
Let's sit together.
[forceful she remains, despite their more obvious affections for one another, as she leads the way towards the greenhouse. he worries over how cold she may feel, and she's aware that being away from the confines of his room will help him seek solace from his nightmares. the greenhouse offers a happy middle point.]
I wanted to see you.
[it's more than that, clearly. byleth's worry kept her awake, aware of the torment and pressure dimitri must be under. if she can provide him solace, even if temporary, then she can rest easier that way. it would soothe her own nerves, too, to be at his side, as it has become a customary feeling at this point.]
[she looks up at him.]
Let's sit together.
[forceful she remains, despite their more obvious affections for one another, as she leads the way towards the greenhouse. he worries over how cold she may feel, and she's aware that being away from the confines of his room will help him seek solace from his nightmares. the greenhouse offers a happy middle point.]
Edited 2019-11-16 03:58 (UTC)
[Suddenly her fingers are patting the top of his head, and Dimitri isn’t sure which emotion wins the battle to rise to the surface — a self-consciousness, a strange blossom of affection, or inherent gratitude.
He’s left with an amalgamation of all, and he glances up at her form — her hair, ridiculously entangled with white and black fur — and his blue-eyed gaze becomes more solemn, but grateful.]
If it were not for you, I would not be able to. Laugh, I mean. Or do much else.
[Other than to be lost to the darkness and the voices that accompanied it.]
A part of me thinks that I would not be standing here at all if you had not helped me. So I am grateful that I can enjoy moments like these with you, and even if they are... silly, they are all the more precious because of it.
He’s left with an amalgamation of all, and he glances up at her form — her hair, ridiculously entangled with white and black fur — and his blue-eyed gaze becomes more solemn, but grateful.]
If it were not for you, I would not be able to. Laugh, I mean. Or do much else.
[Other than to be lost to the darkness and the voices that accompanied it.]
A part of me thinks that I would not be standing here at all if you had not helped me. So I am grateful that I can enjoy moments like these with you, and even if they are... silly, they are all the more precious because of it.
[He never really has the willpower to deny her. And on a night like this one, a bad night with too many things crowding his head, it is easy to follow Byleth’s lead. Tugged along by the hand, he gives hers a gentle squeeze as they move towards the greenhouse — a sign of quiet gratitude.
The interior of the greenhouse is well-lit no matter the time of day or night, and this illumination greets them as they enter. It’s warmer, too, as expected. A little humid, but better than the bite of the outside air to those unused to it.
He looks at her profile as they walk, seeing tired lines mar even her features. Dimitri is sorry for it, and ever sorry to make her worry on top of all the other responsibilities she has in this war. She gives so much of herself, and he wonders how she can be so strong for all of them. Byleth truly must possess some divine manner of strength, unyielding even under the weight of her own pressures.
A little bench, hiding under the eaves of a large plant with elephant-ear leaves, is as good of a place as any to sit. When they do, Dimitri feels a pang between his eyes, and brings a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose.]
I should ask for one night of uninterrupted sleep, but I think I will be denied it until the end of the war.
[If even then, he wonders.]
The interior of the greenhouse is well-lit no matter the time of day or night, and this illumination greets them as they enter. It’s warmer, too, as expected. A little humid, but better than the bite of the outside air to those unused to it.
He looks at her profile as they walk, seeing tired lines mar even her features. Dimitri is sorry for it, and ever sorry to make her worry on top of all the other responsibilities she has in this war. She gives so much of herself, and he wonders how she can be so strong for all of them. Byleth truly must possess some divine manner of strength, unyielding even under the weight of her own pressures.
A little bench, hiding under the eaves of a large plant with elephant-ear leaves, is as good of a place as any to sit. When they do, Dimitri feels a pang between his eyes, and brings a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose.]
I should ask for one night of uninterrupted sleep, but I think I will be denied it until the end of the war.
[If even then, he wonders.]
[she pats his head a moment longer, until she catches up with the notion that he is complimenting her for being partly responsible of him being in better spirits. her eyes soften with a sort of sadness, her hand dropping from his head — not to fall to her side, but rather remain on his shoulder. dimitri has been so guarded, putting layer upon layer on himself in order to fend off not just the cold, but human contact that could otherwise put him at ease.]
[there's the fur of his cloak, then the cold armor. her fingers travel lightly over the shoulder plate, feeling the hard metal over her skin. byleth does not meet his eye, not just yet.]
[she leans down a bit and decidedly takes his hands, for although they are covered in gloves, they feel much warmer than the armor that covers most of him. one must always be battle-ready, of course. the moment she stands straight again, she does look him in the eyes.]
Any moment I spend with you is important to me.
[words have always been... difficult. but she's trying to express properly what she means. dimitri is someone she wishes to cherish, always.]
It is my wish to look after you, not just in battle. To share your pain and your success. [she nods] I would not mind going to Fhirdiad and being at your side.
[casual things friends say to each other, right?]
[there's the fur of his cloak, then the cold armor. her fingers travel lightly over the shoulder plate, feeling the hard metal over her skin. byleth does not meet his eye, not just yet.]
[she leans down a bit and decidedly takes his hands, for although they are covered in gloves, they feel much warmer than the armor that covers most of him. one must always be battle-ready, of course. the moment she stands straight again, she does look him in the eyes.]
Any moment I spend with you is important to me.
[words have always been... difficult. but she's trying to express properly what she means. dimitri is someone she wishes to cherish, always.]
It is my wish to look after you, not just in battle. To share your pain and your success. [she nods] I would not mind going to Fhirdiad and being at your side.
[casual things friends say to each other, right?]
[soon as she sits, byleth is leaning forward just so she can look into dimitri's face. he hides away behind a hand that attempts to ease the pain of a likely migraine away. she reaches up — her hand over his — in an attempt to be soothing.]
[she... is not sure of what to say, truth be told. sleeping has never been much of an issue for her, but rather the opposite, at times, meaning that she slept quicker and easier than others. unless she decided to deny herself of it, of course.]
There is much on your shoulders. Everyone is on edge and restless the closer we draw to Enbarr.
[it hangs over them, like a swinging guillotine in the dark. they don't know when exactly it will strike, but they know that it will come down on them at some point. that doesn't really help at all, for as much as they are preparing themselves.]
[her hand drops and rests, instead, on his lap.]
Dimitri, [softly] what if you shared your pain? When restless over a job, my father would speak a lot of it the days leading up to it. At the time I thought it was him being old and silly [haha] but now I see he simply voiced his troubles.
[it's somewhat sad, in retrospect, just how much more she has learned about caring and compassion, now that she's been surrounded by people who admire her and love her. she wishes she could have had a chance to have this kind of newfound sympathy when speaking with jeralt.]
Allow me to share the weight you carry. [a light smile] I am strong enough to carry you, as you know.
[she... is not sure of what to say, truth be told. sleeping has never been much of an issue for her, but rather the opposite, at times, meaning that she slept quicker and easier than others. unless she decided to deny herself of it, of course.]
There is much on your shoulders. Everyone is on edge and restless the closer we draw to Enbarr.
[it hangs over them, like a swinging guillotine in the dark. they don't know when exactly it will strike, but they know that it will come down on them at some point. that doesn't really help at all, for as much as they are preparing themselves.]
[her hand drops and rests, instead, on his lap.]
Dimitri, [softly] what if you shared your pain? When restless over a job, my father would speak a lot of it the days leading up to it. At the time I thought it was him being old and silly [haha] but now I see he simply voiced his troubles.
[it's somewhat sad, in retrospect, just how much more she has learned about caring and compassion, now that she's been surrounded by people who admire her and love her. she wishes she could have had a chance to have this kind of newfound sympathy when speaking with jeralt.]
Allow me to share the weight you carry. [a light smile] I am strong enough to carry you, as you know.
[All very casual things that are normal to say to one another, yes.
Words that have his chest clenching again. If he had doubted that his feelings now were different than five years ago then... well, he would be right. He had admired her, was awe-struck by her, when he was seventeen. His thoughts often derailed by her beauty when he was supposed to be focusing diligently on a lecture, finding himself so uncharacteristically distracted. He is all of those things now, but five years ago, it was an infatuation that surely would have passed if the war had not existed, if they went their separate ways and he never saw her again.
Now? Now, standing here with her hand clasping his, feeling its warmth... now, he knows that is far stronger, something deeply rooted. Trying to remove it would be like removing a piece of his heart, their bond strengthened so much more by pain and overcoming that pain. The idea of returning to Fhirdiad and to act as Faerghus’ King while she remained elsewhere? He does not believe the passage of time would heal that hurt, not like it would have five years ago.
What a... terrifying thought. What a wonderful thought.
If only he could somehow enunciate that to her without sounding like a fool, without putting too much of himself on the line. Byleth says these things to him, but he wonders if—]
Thank you, Professor. [He’s a fool. He cannot bring himself to ask.] There is no one else that I would so dearly wish to have near, when that time comes.
[He gives her hand a squeeze, with the same pressure he feels around his heart. He looks down at their hands, smiling dimly.]
...you are always so warm, you know. I do not think the cold will be much of a problem at all.
Words that have his chest clenching again. If he had doubted that his feelings now were different than five years ago then... well, he would be right. He had admired her, was awe-struck by her, when he was seventeen. His thoughts often derailed by her beauty when he was supposed to be focusing diligently on a lecture, finding himself so uncharacteristically distracted. He is all of those things now, but five years ago, it was an infatuation that surely would have passed if the war had not existed, if they went their separate ways and he never saw her again.
Now? Now, standing here with her hand clasping his, feeling its warmth... now, he knows that is far stronger, something deeply rooted. Trying to remove it would be like removing a piece of his heart, their bond strengthened so much more by pain and overcoming that pain. The idea of returning to Fhirdiad and to act as Faerghus’ King while she remained elsewhere? He does not believe the passage of time would heal that hurt, not like it would have five years ago.
What a... terrifying thought. What a wonderful thought.
If only he could somehow enunciate that to her without sounding like a fool, without putting too much of himself on the line. Byleth says these things to him, but he wonders if—]
Thank you, Professor. [He’s a fool. He cannot bring himself to ask.] There is no one else that I would so dearly wish to have near, when that time comes.
[He gives her hand a squeeze, with the same pressure he feels around his heart. He looks down at their hands, smiling dimly.]
...you are always so warm, you know. I do not think the cold will be much of a problem at all.
Edited 2019-11-16 14:03 (UTC)
Page 2 of 5