[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.