[When she grabs him his eye darts back open, crazed with fear for a moment and he struggles against her pulling... But he is weakened by illness and injury too much to fight her strong grip. Soon he falters, panting as he drooled down his face, his hand finally pulled away from his face and drooping limply in her grip. He at least seems to have not broken his skin open, though it's hard to tell through the grime. He could feel the sting of his right eye broken back open under the patch on his face but for now it remains hidden. He didn't want her hands close to his face so he pulls back from her grip, stepping away-- but the motion makes him wobble on his feet, trip slightly on his cape. Dimitri barely manages to hold himself upright in the face of the woman who had sent him into his crazed spiral. He could snap her neck, kill her where she stood, but something made him stop.]
[He would blame the fire burning in his head making him feel sick. It had nothing to do with his resolve.]
So... so teacher wants us to get along, you mean.
[At least he's capable of full sentences, once the pain of his clawing has subsided and he calms himself slightly. He blinked wearily, the pain he was feeling still immense. His head hurt so badly...]
Fine... Fine! I'll play your... games. If... whether it be teacher or the imperial army outside, take me where you will.
I can't... I can't chase you anylonger, El... I won't-- I refuse! to follow if you disappear.
Edited (hit enter too early whoopsies ) 2022-02-05 23:24 (UTC)
( Complacent… not what she was expecting, however it was very welcomed at this point. The man was ill, more than simply physically but perhaps with some tender care he could be patched up. Edelgard was somewhat beside herself thinking of the next couple moves. The professor had always been the better tactician, damn it all… )
That’s fine with me. I’m not interested in playing right now.
( And with that she let go of Dimitri’s wrists. It wasn’t too shocking to say he was busted and blue. Even his crest couldn’t last him long. The prince was running out of time. In fact, if they hadn’t found him today. His condition was extremely poor. Perhaps he truly would be dead. )
Come, why don’t you return with me? Claude is here, I know you like him at least. I’m sure if he isn’t willing I’ll have Hubert or someone make you something proper to eat. I dread thinking of what you’ve been living off of in terms of food. Another thing, I hate to sound like your mother but you need a bath.
( He didn’t seem well enough to follow, extending her hand for him to hold. If he was going to act like this Edelgard didn’t have much of any choice but to baby him. )
well duh edelgard is perfect YAAAASS queens all around
[He was not well indeed. In fact it was obvious when he reached with a trembling hand to take hers. It took him a moment of hesitation, staring at her in fear like a caged animal, before finally placing his larger palm into hers. He lets out a heavy stress sigh, staring at her tiny hand in his for another moment as the pain swirls in his head.]
[She is so small. Smaller than he could remember. Perhaps he had grown just that much larger. He curled his fingers around hers, his dirty gauntlets gripping into her pale perfect skin. She was like snow. It made him miss home all the more, thinking about the cold year they had spent together. She had been the bright color in his mind against the white cold backdrop of Faerghus. He heaved in another breath, shaky, before he moved to follow her. He wasn't about to let go of her now, and his grip showed it. Fearful she would disappear, hurt him, whatever else befell them... He wasn't going to let go.]
Then... everyone is here, if your words are true.
[Hubert was no surprise, as closely as he followed his lady, but Claude? Claude was one of the few persons who didn't cloud his mind with horrific visions of death. He knew (thought) his own classmates to be long dead but Claude, Edelgard... They had survived. They were here. Was this... reality? He skips her jibe about the bath entirely.]
If you are to poison me to my death... Well, I don't know if even you would stoop so low.
[He swallows again. His mouth and face seem to be the most affected by the hole in his eye socket. He keeps sucking spit in through his teeth.]
Feed me then. More than the rats and dogs that plague this holy place. I will eat.
( So not a single argument over Claude being some phantom rogue here to torture his mind with lies and deceit? The most painful of eyerolls as she dragged him back to the party.
Edelgard reminded herself not to allow his words to affect her, however. He may be well enough to bark orders but his grip was weak for Dimitri. The feeling was strange, walking over the great bridge that connected the chapel to the rest of the monastery. The building was destroyed, ruined, broken and forgotten… much like Dimitri. At one time he could have easily been her most fierce foe in this inevitable war. Now he was crumbling much like this bridge. Eating rats and mange ridden dogs that wandered into a place without even trash. The thought kept her silent during their short trip back to the dinning hall where people were gathered. )
—
( It was a sight to behold. Not only did Byleth return to them but so did the many people she touched. From the Black Eagles to the Golden Deer… even those of the Blue Lion house returned once more to the monastery one by one. Thankfully not too many of them had arrived by the time Dimitri had proper food in him. When Edelgard had brought him back only the professor, Claude, Hubert and Hilda were waiting for them. It seems Edelgard’s army was no longer in her command for Byleth had sent them all off to clean up the monastery of any remaining bandits and thieves. Not even Claude’s precious Golden Deer were following his orders any longer. (Ha!)
Hubert, naturally, was the first to rush to anyone's side. That being his lady’s side to check her for any harm that might have been done. Honestly, with all these men watching them… must he always embarrass her so? Not that scolding would do any good…
Dimitri was taken off Edelgard’s hands by dear teacher while Claude was the first to offer dinner. She could tell by the look in his eye that Ser Riegan had many of her same questions for their broken prince. It was hard not to stare, Edelgard already had plenty of time to look at him and yet even she still had wonders of how a man got into his state. The meal was simple enough, spaghetti with vegetables over meat. The war had made meat scarce. Despite Hubert’s best attempts at nudging Edelgard to sit away from the beast she found a spot directly beside Dimitri. Maybe it was the girlish side of her wanting him to call her “El” again. To think he thought of her still even now like that. The emperor had only assumed he harbored hatred for the name. Everyone noticed her playing with her curls while ogling the beast of burden. That didn’t last the entire meal, however. It hadn’t occurred to her at first, perhaps the outside air had helped mask the scent but sitting next to Dimitri made it very apparent that the man stunk. Sadly, it was killing her fantasy rather quickly. Someone was eventually going to have to deal with… all of that. Edelgard had chosen the side closest to his battered eye, it wasn’t looking well, even with the tomato sauce slopped on his face she noticed the blood dripping from under the tattered patch.
He ate, ate and ate some more. The poor man was starving. He would also be completely unable to handle the incoming reunion of people by tomorrow’s morn. With some swift kicks to Hubert, Byleth was once again able to split the two of them away from the incoming horde. Edelgard was in charge of him for the night. Between the two armies, dear teacher had chased out the rats and even got the sauna steaming. Edelgard had blushed a bright red when Byleth spoke of the bathhouse of all places to take him… t-though she only meant that the steam would make his wounds easier to mend. El will have you know that she will NOT be stripping down for no man, let alone this-this… filthy one! Somehow it felt their interactions were being forced by a matchmaker of sorts…
A gulp when the professor left them once more. Dimitri holding onto her hand even tighter than before, food happily in his belly giving him the energy to follow. A free hand goes to her chest, looking away from him, still so embarrassed. There was nothing to be shy about, she wouldn’t even be removing much of her clothing… she simply was and there was no ridding her cheeks of a rosy pink blush. )
You’re not going to fight me, are you? It’s clear that you need medical attention and I will be doing my best until a real doctor can see to you.
( As if he would even allow that. Honestly, this was challenging enough with someone he knew let alone someone like Linhardt that he didn’t or someone like Mercedes who he perceived as dead. He might be too shameful to accept help from the people that want him to be their king… )
[It felt like too much all at once. Seeing teacher and Claude was more than enough for Dimitri's fragile psyche. He was sure their professor had been killed when the Imperial Army had invaded. Claude... He hadn't seen Claude in so long he'd almost felt like he'd imagined their interactions together. They weren't as grounded as his memory of Edelgard when they were children. Academy felt as though he may not have been there at all, that it had all been a dream, that he'd died in Duscur with the rest and was just living out his last whims and wants.]
[But Dimitri sat and he ate. He ate and listened to the others try to talk to him. Edelgard kept so close to him he didn't slip, didn't start to yell and cry again-- but he was absent. Wouldn't reply or respond even when teacher pleaded with him. Dimitri simply ate, and ate, whatever was shoved onto his plate in front of him. Drank down his mead. If anything it helped the pain in his head as it throbbed and sloshed around. Dimitri doesn't say much at their meal, mostly listening to Claude and teacher fill the void of silence between them all, but he eats. He paid no mind to Hilda whispering to Claude about how bad he stunk, or to Hubert's wilting gaze as he glared across at how closely Lady Edelgard sat to him. If being raised nobly had done anything for him it was that he could still ignore the riff raff. Be paranoid of them any time they made a sudden move, to be sure, but ignore the quiet comments and glowers.]
[When they are finally alone again together, by Byleth's design, Dimitri still has a drop of spaghetti sauce on his cheek. He's a mess, a sad horrible mess, but something about the stain of sauce on his cheek was... Well, maybe he seemed more like the innocent Dimitri who had gone to academy with them. The steam in the bathhouse felt strange. Dimitri had never been one who could withstand the heat of it, but he didn't seem phased by it now either. He was too dirty and tired and well... full now, to make a big deal about it. He hadn't even put two and two together than teacher had implied they should bathe together.]
A real doctor... [There's a scoff of laughter that sounds completely unlike Dimitri. Cold and unfeeling and uncaring. He glares at the ground, even after shrugging off his cape and throwing it behind him into the pile.]
No one needs to see to me. Do you not simply throw away a broken weapon?
( Damn it all! She was still so flustered. Even with only her cape and gauntlets removed Edelgard felt naked in front of him. Well, perhaps not that extreme… but the steam of the bathhouse would surely cover her expression. W-What was Byleth thinking putting them both together like this? Surely one of the men would be better suited for this task. She thought back to the dinner and how Dimitri never once looked at teacher or Claude, he simply couldn’t face them. With that in mind it was understandable why it was her job, she just– )
Well I wouldn’t simply throw away something so precious, even if it was broken, when I know it can be repaired.
( She turned herself around to comfort him, taking out her personal handkerchief and rubbing the sauce from his face. To be suddenly this close… Edelgard couldn’t help but stare at him during dinner. To think Dimitri had been alive this entire time, alone and wandering these halls like a mad man. She was so distracted, forgetting her battered scarred arms were in plain sight. Normally no one but her Hubert would see her ruined skin. Much like him, Edelgard had her own traumas. They just dealt with them in very different ways. )
[Even like this, it was difficult to get Dimitri to undress. Byleth had put it in simple terms; he was to get cleaned up and washed as best he could, so the healers could see to him. In Dimitri's ruined brain it was difficult to imagine, even if Byleth had strategically not mentioned Mercedes by name. His gauntlets come off next, even if he's still verbally opposed to washing up. Edelgard's words... Well, they help. But hardly enough to fix him just yet.]
[He leaves his clothes in piles on the floor. Beneath his gauntlets are bruised, pale fingers that hadn't seen the sun in perhaps years. His feet were the same when off came his greaves. He'd perhaps tried to bind his toes up once upon a time, with the remnants of tape that were there, but they were a bloody mess regardless when he pulled them off. All of him stunk as his armor was removed. He reached behind himself once, and then again... And, unable to reach the clasps of his chest armor he revealed just how bad it was. Or, well, how long it had been since he'd taken it off, in any case. He could barely reach the clasp to undo it, finally groaning outright as he stretched his arm as best he could to take hold of the metal hooks and finally be free of them. It fell with a thud along with the rest of his armor, the soft shirt underneath just... in tatters. Barely holding on. Soaked in sweat, blood, and whatever other bodily fluids may have come in contact with it in the last few... years. He looked horrible under his armor, more than he did in his armor. Smaller, too thin, withered.]
You would... call me precious? Truly?
[That's what Dimitri focuses on, when he's finally standing in front of her in just his underclothes. The remnants of a soft shirt, his pants, and a belt that was so worn now it hardly mattered that it was looped into his trousers. At least he wasn't so shameless to stand in front of her naked anymore... but the clothing he did wear seemed almost stuck to his skin in places. Dimitri was loathe to remove all of them for fear of what could be beneath.]
( It was painful to watch him struggle, holding herself back more than once at the desire to do it for him. A hand to cover her face once the piece fell to the ground. The very sight of him was almost too much. Edelgard had been actively participating in war, the brutality of it all. She has sceen far worse, that’s what the emperor tells herself as her composure returns. However, as it stands, there was no way he’d been entering these same clothes nor would she be leveling him in these tattered rags. His poor skin must be screaming. )
You have always had people who care about you. Even now… Or, perhaps you’re trying to get me to say it.
( An attempt is made at teasing him. The air was far more tense, more so than within the chapel. The two of them had allowed time to pass and now without anything to scream at him for she was struggling to make conversation. Just like Dimitri, she was overly quiet at dinner. Rare, even for her. Edelgard wasn’t quite sure what was digging at her words that kept them inside. Maybe it had something to do with his deep voice saying her name… “El” the very thought circled around in her brain.
A pale of warm water had been filled while he undressed. Once the sheets of thick metal were removed it was ghastly to say the least. He looked malnutritioned, weak with a lack of muscle. Nothing completely frail but not exactly in good condition either. It seemed the only thing keeping him in somewhat of a shape was carrying around that lance and, well, swinging it of course. Though by the looks of things Dimitri was relying on his crest more and more these days.
Leaning over to dip a washcloth into the warm water, finding a comfortable set beside him despite that horrid body odor. Does she… wash him? He only stared with his remaining good eye. Edelgard feared what would be under the patch even if it was the biggest thing that needed attention. She could see the fresh blood had dried under it sealing it to his skin. )
Would you allow my help?
( Thinking about it, perhaps she should have just started. Giving him room to protest surely wouldn't benefit her. She just knew he didn’t have the energy for this, not even after his shoved down dinner. Dimitri was actually on his last leg… if they hadn’t found him, Gods… Thankfully they didn’t have to worry about it any longer. )
[When she sits down to help him, Dimitri can't help but just... look at her for a minute or two. She looked so small, her skin still so pale and soft. But now, reveled to him for the first time since childhood he could see her hands. Small, pretty hands that were pink in the fingertips from the heat of the water. He could see scars, horrible scars, along her palms and up her wrists. She was missing a fingernail on one hand at least. What had happened to her...? It gives him pause for a long moment, thinking of who hurt El, who could have done anything so grievous to her. The little girl he had danced with, fancied his whole life, not the insipid poison that had filled his mind with thoughts of death and rage.]
[He swallows the drool in his mouth, and finally averts his eyes to pull the shirt up and off of himself once and for all. He's littered with scars too, but not in the same way. His are obviously from weapons and war; bruises and welts along his shoulders and arms where arrows had dented his armor, crooked bones in his fingers where they had been broken, thick hard scars where the skin of blade wounds had knitted back together. His chest is thin, where muscle had once been maintained in academy, but his wide shoulders kept him from looking scrawny. He had a scar on the right side of his chest leading down into the muscle on his belly where a sword had nearly cut him too closely. And perhaps least important, unlike his academy days there was hair peppered over his chest and down his stomach, pale and blond as it was on his head but thick enough in places to be obvious. At least pulling the cloth off of his skin hadn't torn it open too badly, though he seemed overly covered in sores.]
[He sits next to her, naked from the waist up, and rests his hands on his knees. Strategically he's sat to her right, to keep his bad eye on the other side of her, to keep her in his vision. Even sitting she is small compared to him and it makes Dimitri feel so conflicted. Edelgard had been his mortal enemy, his mind screamed that she still was, yet here she sat offering to help him bathe. To tend his wound. To heal his shattered soul. He takes in a breath through his teeth again, the noise wet and sharp in the otherwise quiet bath house. No one else would dare to interrupt them, that much he hoped was true.]
If you mean to repair this broken weapon then I will not stop you. It will only make me stronger for when-- When...
[He's starting to ramble again when another sharp pain cuts through his head behind his eye and he cups his face in one of his big hands, teeth gritting so hard they squeak together. Dimitri exhales through his nose and tries to recover. His head had ached so often when he was growing up even as a child, when his mental state had been better yet still not well, and migraines would plague him at night. His father would always care for him personally, allow him to sleep in his bed, comfort him. After Duscur they had grown worse, then in academy... Now the stabbing pains never ceased. It makes him feel weak. His voice sounds more humble, more sane the second time. Smaller;]
( An eyeroll at his intimidating words. As if he was in any position to boast about his potential strength. The man before her was nothing but a pitiful fragment of the past. Dimitri was in no way ready for leadership of a military unit, let alone ruling over an entire kingdom. The Holy Kingdom wasn’t exactly in the most perfect of states. The poor struggled the most under the flames of war, food was scarce, the fighting intensified along the borders where many of the less privileged lived. As much as it would benefit Edelgard, watching him completely disregard his birthright, to choose wallowing away in this awful festering pit of thieves while his countrymen fought with their dying breaths. It was shameful, pathetic… it took every last ounce of patience not to bite his head off when he nipped at hers.
And yet he begs. Eventually, even with all his supposed “pride” Dimitri comes back down from his mindless insanity. He swallows back his madness and begs like an unwanted wet puppy. Edelgard steals her expression, she has been nothing but kind to him and if Dimitri continues to snear her she won't be rewarding him with pretty smiles. She has never been a “good woman” and she will not be changing anytime soon. Edelgard will not stay on this earth to please men, rather the opposite in fact. There will be no exceptions that includes men that are tall, handsome, and have big hearts.
V-very tall, indeed. This isn’t to say most of the men in her life weren’t also much taller than her at this point. Hubert has always been a tower in comparison. Dimitri was built strong, his shoulders wide and his neck thick much like his father. A fortress of a man if he would get himself back into shape. His body hair was distracting, she wasn’t sure why… perhaps because it smelled. C-Clearly, he smelled. Those purple eyes floating from his face down the trail that lead into his pants. A gulp– mind out of the gutter, Edelgard.
Her distraction was for the best, any insecurities surrounding her own body didn’t flood her mind. The scars on her body were a painful reminder of what she was, something not even human any longer. A being meant to fulfill her purpose and die an early death. Edelgard knew the topic was right around the corner yet she would do almost anything to never speak of it again. She placed the washrag into the pail, squeezing out any excess liquid before applying it to his tattered skin. Starting at his face, rubbing the warm water on his cheek. )
Will you fight me or cooperate with getting your hair washed?
( The only soap she had on her was her own. It wasn’t like she knew that she would be bathing a man tonight so he would simply have to stand smelling like a woman for now. It wasn’t anything too overly feminine, but with the smell of her perfume on everything it was hard not to associate it with a woman. )
el like *bitchingly* dimitri what about your noble duties and dima is like *schizo brain 🤪*
[He hisses when she touches the cloth to his face and steels himself against his knees to keep from jerking back. He had to... get clean. That was what teacher said. That was all Edelgard was offering, to get clean and well again. Nothing suspect or underhanded. Even with his mind in the state it was he had a hard time believing the great emperor would debase herself giving him a bath to get the upper hand. He knew of... womanly things, the way women were known to kill targets so intimately. Things he had heard talk of since he was young, with or without evidence of anything ever happening. Then why, he tells the scared voice in his head pleading with him to grab her twist her neck from her shoulders kill her SAVE US FROM HER DIMITRI kill her kill her, would she not have done so when they met in the chapel? Dimitri doesn't know... Doesn't think she would. Not... Not his El.]
[The steam is loosening the dirt on him slowly in any case, no matter how much he's fighting with himself mentally. Water clings to his face and upper body in beads of condensation, drips down his chin and from his elbows. He's a bit better looking this way, even if he's still dirty. Wet with dew. Slowly, he leans into the touch of the cloth on his face and lets his good eye shut to allow her to wash him. He'd even begged her softly to, he couldn't bite the hand offering help too many times. She had brought him to teacher, showed him that the ghosts in his mind were not all dead and gone... At least, a small amount of hope still in him begged it not to be. For this to not be a dream he would wake up from, cold and alone and hurting once again.]
[It was a good dream.]
H-hurts... My-- head aches so.
[The small burst of arrogant energy Claude's meal had provided was fading fast, as ill as he was. Dimitri was already wavering again, hunched next to her to let his head stay in her reach, stringy blond hair falling in matts around his face as her fingers worked. The only times he jerked back from her touch was when she would get too close to his right eye, or whatever was left of it. It hurt too too badly, burned under her touch. The skin around the patch is scratched raw under the dirt when it comes off, with even deeper scars from long past barely healed. He'd dug his dirty nails into his face again and again to find some kind of relief.]
If you must. If... if it washes it away.
[It. The pain, the swelling, the infection. If it washed the screeching voices out of his head could he be rid of them? Would he finally be able to sit in the silence? The gentle ministrations of her cloth on his face slowly unstuck the dirt from him, cleaning his face inch by inch. The cloth patch, heavy with moisture and the pressure around his eye, finally started to peel away. From his brow to the inner corner of his eye was a deep scar. Perhaps salvageable once, a cut to his eye may have lost him his sight but healing it then would have kept him from losing it. It was long past that point now, the area weeping with fluid and swelling around his drooping eyelid. Drooped enough that even with the inflammation it was obvious there was nothing left behind it. He shook his head a little at the sudden air around the wound, hissing through his teeth. He pants softly, then his remaining eye darts to her, panicked and sad.]
Sorry. I've just... It's so much pain...
[An apology that comes as a surprise, maybe. His voice has grown softer and softer while she washes him, and now his hands shivered atop his thighs from the pain. Any lesser man without the strength his Blaiddyd crest would have expired in a trembling ball on the floor due to the feeling, perhaps. Dimitri somehow, through spite hatred and madness alone, could stay conscious through it all. Survive as long as he had.]
( She was feeling rather annoyed with Dimitri at first. Not only had she been actively lowering her guard for teacher’s sake but also showing him nothing but stern kindness. They–They have even been flirting somewhat. Though, that was more so him than her! Of course Edelgard understood that he was in pain but it was an inexcusable attitude. That was rich coming from someone that completely abandoned his duties to play victim until his princess came to rescue him. And yes, she understands that he was set up. Let us not forget how much of a horrible, warmongering, bitch she was that all of the actions of anyone remotely imperial were her personal doing. Right. So his solution was to sit here and cry. Quite noble. Maybe she was tired of being set up with a pompous, ignorant, foolish brat that didn’t even know how to dance.
Even so, with all his faults and rude behavior, he was still in pain. Could she blame him? His poor arms shivered and quaked as Edelgard pushed back his knot-covered hair, Dimitri’s battered face wincing in agony as the soap and water washed away the dirt. The warm steam kept the cold air from the now exposed wounds. She–She couldn’t stay mad at him. He was still asking nicely even if it wasn’t immediate. It was still far too shocking to see him alive to stay angry with him for long. )
It?
( Edelgard’s voice was calm, trying not to express anything too extreme while he was wincing. She didn’t want to make him think she couldn’t handle it nor did she wish to feed him with anymore disgust. Even if he wouldn’t admit it she could tell he heard the other’s comment on his appearance and smell. That had to be embarrassing despite how gone Dimitri was. He had human feelings under all the insanity, and with his eyepatch in the way it would be coming off soon whether either of them were ready to see what was left underneath or not.
Her hand reaching behind his head, Edelgard was so short comparatively the young woman was resting on her knees to reach. Slowly, as to not cause a jerking reaction, untying the patch. Despite the strings falling loose from gravity the patch itself clung to his skin… The wound would be gruesome, that is without a doubt at this point. A soft hand goes to cup his clean cheek as the other starts to rub the skin around the eyepatch. That unphased expression stayed on her face yet her mind was racing, anxious to see what became of his right eye. )
[He'd been raised to be strong in the face of pain and danger. It was common in Fodlan as a whole to raise children that way, especially those of noble birth. Dimitri would have to fight for his kingdom like his forefathers, in the footsteps of the Blue Lion himself. Yet this pain was unlike any other he had suffered. His head felt full of water, sloshing around in his skull, made it ache and throb. The sharpest of pains hits his face as she starts to work the cloth patch away from his skin, burning under her touch. It had been long ago that he stopped trying to care for it, simply hid it away under a strip of cloth that he might stop the itching. Yet it haunted him far more often than any voice in his mind.]
[Still he tried to steel himself, like a man would. Like his father would, in the face of skull rending pain. The muscles in his arms tighten on either side of himself as he grips his hands into fists so tightly he opens small cuts in his palms with his nails. His jaw is clenched still as she finally works the grime off of his skin and removes it from his face. It falls away, sopping wet, to the ground at their feet and Dimitri has to breathe out sharply through his nose as the air finally hits the old festering wound. Around his eye are deep scratches, some new and some scarred from long ago. The eyelid, while swollen, droops over the socket to cover the hole that remained in his head. Despite the infection it was obvious that one of his blue eyes has been wholly removed.]
[It had been a blur of events that now five years on Dimitri could barely remember. He'd run when Dedue got him out of his cell, panicked and upset beyond measure. It had been snowing heavily in Fhirdiad as it did in the early moons of the year and Dimitri had nearly nearly managed a clean escape. He'd taken a lance from the guardhouse near his prison and killed two of the men before they even had a chance to sound the alarm. He'd ran as fast as he could toward the outer walls to make his flight but in a moment of anguish he'd looked back to where he had left Dedue, tears blurring his vision in the cold. An arrow had glanced across his face where it might have sunken into the back of his neck had he not turned around, slicing through his eyelid and tearing into the jelly of his right eye. It tore from the corner of the bridge of his nose and up through his eyebrow, leaving a scar there where hair would never grow again.]
[In his panick, in the cold, Dimitri had done all he could do to survive in the place of Dedue's sacrifice, but he had no manner of healing himself. Had no one at all that he could trust to reveal himself to. As he sunk deeper into the madness of his mind, his wound had grown and festered to a feverous infection. He had scratched and scratched, trying to get the water, the fluid, the voices out of his head as it throbbed and shocked in pain. In his deepest darkness, the center of his madness, Dimitri had taken his fingers and dug them deep into the weeping eye socket. He scratched and pulled until he'd found a hold around the ruined orb of pus and jelly and had drawn his hand back with all his strength. He'd cut the nerve with something like a hunting blade, what was left of his eye crushed in his fist as he vomited from the pain. He'd slept for days afterward, a miracle from the Goddess that he had not succumbed to his fever and died there.]
[Now it was simply a hole in his face. His eyelid, the skin around it, was torn and scarred, infected, but the deep scratches of the years old injury were all that remained now. His skin red and raw around it from his hairline down to his cheek. Festering like the wounds in his psyche. That side of his face doesn't even twitch as the rest of him tenses and curls in pain. He lets out a noise not unlike an injured dog as he tries to calm himself down but to his merit he doesn't faint or vomit or even jolt away from her.]
Itches and-- sl-sloshes, burns. It itches.
[He stutters out the words almost like he's sobbing but only from the pain in his head. Slowly he tries to level his breathing and calm down, the tears dribbling from both his good eye and the hole in his head less noticeable in the steam but still streaming freely as he tried to recover. Finally he jerks his hands up but only to hold the sides of his head. He doesn't even scratch, remembering how she had-- she had scolded him, even worried about him over his nails digging into his skin if he were lucky. He simply sat there frozen, getting used to the air hitting the wound as the steam sunk into every crevice of him.]
When the patch refused to give, sticking to his face with a stubborn hold, she had started holding the wet cloth over it to loosen its grip. A few times she simply had to pull away from him and allow him to thrash in pain, once it finally peeled off it became very understandable why such a pain ridden reaction was necessary.
The hole where Dimitri’s right eye once rested was completely barren. Her composure was barely maintained when his eyelid blinked in terrible pain at the steam's touch. Nothing was left, Dimitri had dug out his own eye in his madness. As she started into the empty void it brought her back to the darkest place she had ever been. The cold walls of the dungeon, the rats and mice running across their feet biting at their skin, her last remaining brother commenting on how delicious her legs looked– No! Her eyes squeezed shut as those memories swirled around in his head. A deep breath, once, twice, and another. What’s done is done and those times are over now. She lived for more than herself, now and for always. What she needed to do right now is tend to the injured man in front of her.
She closed her eyes once more, applying the warm rag to his face again after it had been rinsed. His painful bellows almost didn’t affect her when her brain was this numb. )
I know. I know it will hurt…
( They started with the men first; aesthetics, you know. Her eldest brother stood tall and proud, barely old enough to be considered such and yet already a man.
“Everything will be alright, whatever they are looking for will begin and end with me.”
In a way he was the lucky one– Another shake of her head. Edelgard couldn’t, it would never be the time to talk about any of this ever again. It will end with her. All of it. Right now she needed to focus on the boy who gave her the dagger. The dagger that stabbed Emir the night he– STOP. She had no more tears for this! Nothing more can be done there was no use talking about any of it.
The hand that cupped his cheek went to her forehead, rubbing the demons away so to speak, as she continued holding the cloth to his eye socket.. )
–but it will have to hurt before it gets better. Stay strong, Dimitri.
now hes having flashback uwus or something lmao these two
[Dimitri had no way of knowing what went through Edelgard's mind as she looked at his most grievous wound. He'd not know anything about her before, not even that she was a princess. His father had wanted him to like her for who she was, not her status. A hopeless romantic, his father had been. Between then and academy and the present so much had changed and happened and Dimitri knew none of it. The scars on her skin told a story he couldn't have bared to listen to but when she looks away from him almost in horror he... understands, thinking it comes from a place of instinctual disgust. Like looking at a horrible wound in a corpse, or wincing to look away before a fatal blow befell a comrade. He does not judge her for it.]
[Slowly he calms his breathing, at her words of comfort. It is that, comfort. Choosing him over herself, such a big sister. That was right, she was his elder sister, in a way. Dimitri had never known the comfort and love (or pain and annoyance) of having siblings. Edelgard was the only thread that remained of his broken family. To think of her that way made his eyes sting in a fresh wave of tears but he sniffed sharply through his nose and brushed the thought away. She was here in reality, older than he remembered her from so long ago, she had brought him to teacher and their old companions. He was not in a realm of delusion here with her in the steam. The heat helped to make him feel woozy as his head swirled in pain but he simply gripped tighter into his palms to feel the sharp pain of his nails. To ground himself.]
[He couldn't vomit on her, not when she was working so diligently to clean him. So Dimitri eased his breathing, tried to focus on the water from the basin that felt cooler on his skin than the heat of the sauna. Finally he leaned into the press of the rag to his injured eye and let his other close, trying to revel in the feeling of... relief, if he could call it that. His face was so warm with infection that it felt nice, especially without the pressure of the dirty patch that had held so much filth inside.]
I... I-I...
[He can barely speak still, his teeth chattering at the pain before he steels himself again, tenses his arms to keep himself conscious.]
Thank you... El, you...
[Dimitri's voice is rough as he speaks, but anything to distract himself from the pain is welcome. He huffs in a breath, then tries again.]
Remember you-- I mean, I remember you... scolding me like this... before... C-calming me down...
[He rolls his shoulders back suddenly, desperate to make the tension in his head and neck and back go away. It's only minorly successful, so he slumps forward further toward her, his filthy head hanging nearer to her shoulder. She was so small next to him, knelt on the bench with him. Small, pretty, small, tiny, soft, so soft, little... He focused on the image of her in his memories to keep himself steady, her judgmental violet eyes as she wagged her finger at him for being reckless as they played, for hurting himself...]
S-so kind... El...
"dimitri's mental illness" she said, bitchingly (2)
( His sweet words brought Edelgard back. Whether he blamed himself or someone could read her mind this persistent f-flirting was welcomed. She is sure he wouldn’t consider it such but when he called her “El” it was difficult not to consider it such. Only two people have ever been allowed to call her that. One of them being her father while the other, well– you know him.
That’s right, perhaps it was best to contextualize things, at this very moment she is the Emperor of the Adrestian Empire. Dimitri, the once crowned prince of the Holy Kingdom of Ferghus, was found today in the remains of Garreg Mach after five years of absence. Their teacher was back from the dead, Claude von Riegan avoided confrontation yet again, and she was giving Dimitri essentially a sponge bath. If the Goddess was still looking over them she had a very strange way of doing things. )
You have me remembering a lot of things, actually.
( It was sweet how he pressed into her, that odd trust he seldomly gave. The more he talked about their past the more Edelgard could recall. It had been so foggy until that day at the Holy Tomb. He had always been her boy who gave her the dagger, deep in the dark nights of her touture happy memories were lost in a cloud of unspeakable trauma. When this Crest of Flames was finally forced upon her it had been a time of great pain and nightmarish terrors. After everything it was the only thing she could remember for what felt like an eternity. That place took his name away from her… )
I- I’m sorry
...That we didn’t get to share a dance in academy.
( Numb again, it made the sight of his wound far more bearable. She whipped the dried blood from his face, using her little fingers to gently work around the swollen skin. It was gastly feeling nothing behind the lid. )
"i dont want to dance dimitri" said edelgard, tsundereingly
[Each motion of the cloth on his face is nigh unbearable and yet relieving at the same time. She had said it herself; it will have to hurt before it gets better. He breathes in and out, focusing on getting himself through the pain of finally breaking open his wound and truly getting it clean. It would take a healer's touch to really get him on the mend but this was intensely... intimate. Her little fingers pressing gently through the cloth, the sound of her gentle breath so near to his ear, the heat of her body next to his. He could remember how he'd fancied her. Even in academy he would look after her wantonly, like a puppy unable to get its mistress's attention. Quietly, he had suffered her rejection, resigned himself to never thinking of her like that again. It had all melted and frayed when she had thrown the dagger at him, had revealed her identity to them all. In this quiet moment, he felt like a boy.]
[He would never forget the scent of her soap.]
I... tried to find you, that night.
[He tries not to let himself drift, focusing on the image of her at the ball. She had looked so beautiful that night. Soft and pretty with a flush high in her cheeks. Graceful, beautiful. The object of all of his affections. He had caught her eye and she had snuck away pointedly from him.]
We could have-- c-could have danced.
[It's sudden, but everything about Dimitri is unpredictable at this point. He finally unclenches his fists where he's been holding them tense against his thighs and instead reaches to grab ahold of her shoulders. So slender. So small. His good eye opens to look at her, eyelashes clinging with water but bright blond as she washed away the dirt. He doesn't ...do anything, hands just holding onto her as he looks at her, wondering how ruined he is to her now. Fear rises in his chest at the thought, that he's nothing more than a beast she's taking pity on before leading him to the-- No. No, she had said-- she said-- she wasn't going to hurt him. It was fine. They were fine. This moment, this intimate moment, it was theirs. Dimitri lets go of a breath, fingers pressed gently into the fabric of her dress. Her scarlet was seeping into him, dying him with purple.]
Could've... Do you think that... w-we could have, everyone would have stared, I--
( Her body tensed when he grabbed her shoulders. The motion was sudden. It wasn’t as if he had not already attacked her, rather it was the first thing he did upon their reunion, but once he choked out his words it was clear Dimitri meant no harm. No, he– Edelgard’s cheeks grew warm at his confession. With embarrassment came shame, averting her pretty purple eyes that stuck in the little prince’s brain like glue. Whatever pain she had been reminded of faded away with his words, replaced with shame over her actions at the time.
She simply couldn’t remember him…Edelgard had forgotten how to be happy. Before academy there were only nightmares and orders. She wasn’t allowed to think of joyful childhood memories. If the young girl ever dared her memoirs would punish her with terror. After a while you stop trying to remember the past when it seems only filled with pain. Even if she never remembered meeting Hubert or her father’s smile. Even if she never remembered that boy who played with her in the snow.
Stop-! Just stop it. It wasn’t her fault!
Edelgard’s eyes squeezed shut, swallowing the pit in her throat. She needed to take the pressure off his wound if she wasn’t going to look at him, rubbing the warmth down his cheek before tossing it back in the pale.
She’s sorry. She’s so sorry!
If only she had been perfect maybe she’d be allowed to have those precious memories back. She– Needed to open her eyes. Dimitri said he wanted her to look at him… That was easy enough, right? She wasn’t going to cry. Edelgard was too strong, her skin too thick, what was there to cry about? A soulless, war hungry monster didn’t have anything to cry about. )
…Yes, if I had remembered you, I would have danced with you without a doubt.
( She opened her eyes to look directly at him. The blush on her cheeks grew. Her heart was beating so fast. He wouldn’t make her say it, would he? Don’t make her admit how much she cares about him. Edelgard’s short, pathetic life didn’t have the right to drag anyone down with her. )
[She met his gaze and it nearly broke him. She was too close, too warm, too small. He can see the steam clinging to her white eyelashes, her eyes are shining wet, her lower lip was so, so pink. Dimitri swallows heavily and leans into the touch of the cloth on his face this time as she drags it down. Everything is warm and wet and tight around them. He has hazy, dreamy memories of a woman. He could never make out distinctions like her clothes or her hands or her face. He could only think they were of his mother, his true mother, when he had been too young to recollect, only knowing how it had felt to be with her. Here, in this intimate space with Edelgard he felt that same safe, warm feeling sticky with heat.]
[Everything seemed so quiet.]
We... we could...
[Dimitri smiles, perhaps for the first time in a long time. Half of his face doesn't seem to react, the golden prince's smile no more and to never be seen again, but instead replaced with the most hesitant of crooked ones. He never thought he would think of these things again, not in such a warm and pleasant way. Never thought he would be speaking to Edelgard so softly in his low, gravely voice. He sways forward with his hands still gripping her shoulders, almost whimsically as he remembers the ball. Remembers her hands in his long ago, dancing in his father's courtyard. Then his head throbs again and he wobbles, falters, and grabs her tighter to keep from pushing them over on the bench. His forehead rests against hers, noses touching, where he could feel her breath against his face.]
[He's panting from the effort of just that tiny motion, but he won't let her go now. Can't let her go.]
El... El...
[He's struggling through the pain, wishes he could drag her to her feet and swing her around. Stuck in his illness and injury and madness he sits there, helpless, reveling in the way her skin felt soft and wet against his own. Soft. Too soft. So... small. Soft.]
( Their foreheads bumped and she thought for sure Dimitri was about to kiss her. Where was her mind right now? Out of it, surely. The man was assumed dead before today, they found him in the trash basically, he smells like a dead animal, and she’s actively cleaning out the hole where his right eye used to be. This was no time to be feeling girlish and shy. If anything, she needed to keep it together for both of their sakes. )
If you listen to me… and let me help you… I’ll consider it.
( His smile was very charming, contagious–a small one appeared on her lips as well. She was not thinking about kissing him. The thought of kissing him never crossed her mind. Especially not right now. Edelgard started to worry how she would act once he didn’t smell like a corpse… with the right diet he would surely start building muscle again. Under the grim and dirt was a handsome prince which she didn’t like or anything. )
Before you flirt with me perhaps you shouldn’t stink, Dimitri.
( A girlish giggle, eyes darting away feeling shy at her foolishness. Dimitri was lucky she thought he was cute, what other woman would put up with this stupid man? Her cheeks stayed a bright pink and she leaned him back. She wanted to finish his face before they started throwing soap and water into his hair. His eye socket was still very swollen but it looked so much better. The blood and puss had been removed and Mercedes would have a much easier time tending to it. )
👉👈can he use his good boy points for one (1) dance el
[Dimitri heaves out a breath but the pain is starting to numb a little bit. He can focus on the heat of the steam and her warm hands and the water and it feels a little better. Easier to ignore, maybe. At least with most of the dirt and pus gone the skin has some kind of relief. His hands remain on her shoulders just as they were, gripping but not too tight, but he lets her ease him back to sitting straight again. Under the dirt on his face he had more sores, his skin in bad shape after five years, but he's looking more human now. More like the Dimitri she had once known.]
[If that Dimitri still existed at all, he would have been just as focused on her soft touches and gentle words. Watched her move around so gracefully, as she took care of him. If they were still in academy like this, Dimitri surely would have perished from his own blushing. After all, the sauna heat did get to both of them. In fact, Dimitri takes the red in her face as a biproduct of the heat from the steam. Like before, when their classmates would tease them from having to tap out of sauna time early. Even Dimitri, from the land of ice and snow, wasn't able to stand the heat.]
Well... I'll have to. [He clears his throat, for the first time attempting to knock the gravel out of it.]
--T-to ask you later. After.
[He reacts a little differently to the comment of his smell, his brow furrowing a little. He'd heard other people (Hilda) at dinner mention the same but he supposed he'd simply gotten too used to it to notice anymore. The scent of her soap was so incredible compared to whatever filth he'd been living in he couldn't smell anything else right now. It was sort of relieving in a way, to know his sense of smell hadn't really been taken from him along with his sense of taste. At least... at least he had that. Slowly Dimitri moves his hands from her shoulders so she can keep cleaning him up, dropping them to his lap.]
I'll let you wash me.
[Dimitri's a little too far gone to realise how that sounds... But he's being pitiful and gentle in the very least. Anything to make his head stop burning.]
( A deep sigh exhales from her chest. Leaning away from him, preparing to wash his hair next. His demands would simply have to be met. Though, she expects next time he’d like something to be asked with a little more grace. Edelgard stood up briefly to run a fresh pale of warm water to dump on his head. Sitting back down with the bucket beside her. She takes Dimitri’s hand, moving it to cover his eye for her. It would be a challenge but she would do her best to keep any more soap or water from stinging him.
The thought of warming him came to mind, but with how Dimitri was at the moment it sounded better to just shove him around to get him into the positions that worked best. Fingers tipped his chin back. Brushing his long, untamed bangs from his face. She did her best to keep the water on the edge of his scalp. Sitting up on her knees just to climb the tall man. )
I can’t imagine how you’ll feel once we’re finished, Dimitri. I can’t believe you’re even alive in this condition... Just bare with me.
( Back to “mothering” him. The man was rambling nonsense while jumping back and forth between reality and insanity. Gentle words worked best. Though scolding seem to affect him as well.
The bath water was a nice temperature, hot enough to cleanse his aching body. You could hear the sound of the water hitting the bench beneath them as the pale was dumped. Another sigh as she once again leaned over to fish around in her things. Next comes the shampoo. He would simply have to smell like a woman for now there was nothing Edelgard could do about that. Her fingers dug into his hair, scratching his scalp, nails breaking up the dead skin. The back of his skull was his warm spot, having collected much of the scabs. She could tell it was drawing blood but… she refused to allow it to fester any longer. He would pay the price for this mistreatment. At least he was getting clean. )
[This time, Dimitri listens. He keeps his hand over his eye socket (he doesn't want her looking at it anyway,) keeps his head tipped back despite how he swayed with the pain. If anything the most annoying feeling was her fingers tugging at his knotted hair to push it back, and the sting of soap as some inevitably did drip down his face. Probably for the best, more soap was what he needed just about everywhere. The scent of her soap is all encompassing. He breathes out sharply through his nose when water passes over his face, huffing and snorting like a beast...]
[But he behaves as best he can.]
[Her nails, somehow, feel better than any scratching he could do himself (probably the soap, Dima,) and it soothes him almost immediately. His good eye has been squeezed shut tightly to keep anything from going into it (terrifying,) but as she digs her nails into him he starts to relax. It feels good, too good, when she scratches. He lets out a deep sigh and sinks down a bit to give her a better angle to reach every spot she felt like, grumbling pleasantly. She was so small, he kept forgetting. With his eye closed he couldn't see her, only feel her, and it was...]
Feels good... already.
[His voice has been soft and low the whole time they've been in the bathhouse but now it's downright faint. Certainly not the booming, scared voice he'd used earlier with her in the cathedral. His other hand moves up to cover his good eye (now he looks like a child at bath time,) to let her move his head all around however she needs to wash him. His hair needs brushed and definitely cut but for now getting it clean like this would have to do. Under the muck and grime was the same flaxen blond hair he'd always had. The blond that matched his eyelashes. Even as she scratched away bloody scabs it felt better. Any kind of pain was less than the pain behind his missing eye and a welcome distraction.]
Perhaps... Spite alone. [In reference to "how are you even alive, Dimitri".]
( A smile creeped onto her face. Just look at him? Leaning over for her like a little boy in the bath. Shoving himself against her fingers like a sad puppy dog. He doesn’t look cute. Nothing about him is charming in the slightest. She’s only trying to help him and Dimitri is taking advantage of her kindness. Right?
Edelgard did the best she could with his hair. Some of the worst rats were in the back where she assumed he would twist and turn throughout the night. Tangled terribly, it would need to be cut. She couldn’t picture trying to run a brush through it in its current state. However, even with all the rats and knots, it was slowly coming out that bright golden blonde. He really did end up looking like his father… That had been so long ago. Faintly she remembers her mother commenting on how handsome Lambert was while she stuck her tongue out at the idea. Adults and their gross ideas of each other. Such an innocent time… Edelgard had Dimitri and his dagger to thank for those memories. )
How’s that feel? Better?
( Her nails scratched behind his ears and around the hairline, back against his neck where all the sweat collected. Tilting his chin once more when it was time to rinse him off. The water that fell to the ground was filthy. Much like he had been… Edelgard still sayed rather unsure about her bare arms and wrists in his view but Dimitri was so out of it perhaps it didn’t matter. The scars from her childhood were visible where veins could be easily accessed. It made her feel ugly, disgusting — like a monster. )
You’re starting to look more like the prince I once knew. Though, I’ll admit, you’ve gotten taller and wider since we last met.
( She refused to wash anything like his grotesque armpits or anything below his waist. Once his hair was rinsed, however, she did fill the pale up once more with warm water. )
I won’t be helping you any further. I’ll be right outside to give you your privacy. Do wash the rest.
( Edelgard whipped her face and hands clean with one of her own washcloths before Dimitri’s stink touched them. Leaving the cloth with an embroidered “E” in the coroner on the side of the pale while discarding the one used on his face. It wasn’t salvaged… best to just toss it rather than expect someone to clean it. Gathering his things, her high heels which she had taken off for the bathhouse hooked between her fingers. She left her soaps and other hygiene products with him. They all fit nicely into a little pink bag that was designated for bathing… Hubert was a bit meticulous when it came to managing her belongings… )
[He does feel better, even after the rinsing and the soap in his eyes and mouth. His scalp stings now that she's brought up all the dead skin and dirt and what's left beneath it is riddled with sores. But he feels better than he has in perhaps years. when she's finished washing his hair he snorts out water and spits at the floor away from her, shaking his head quite like a dog to get it out of his ears. He's light headed when she moves away from him and steadiest his hand against the bench to stay upright. The only thing that was keeping him awake at this point was pride and the idea of Edelgard disappearing if he closed his eye long enough. He rubs water out of it with his free hand to look at her while she gathers up her things and leaves more hot water out for him. He stares at her wet bare feet on the slatted wood floor.]
[Dimitri wants to reach out, to grab onto her and not let her go. His stomach sinks, churning with the food from dinner at the idea.]
Will you go away again?
[Voice small and pitiful as before. He looks back up to her face, water clinging to his long blond eyelashes. His useless eyelid flutters reflexively as he focuses on her.]
[He chokes on a lump in his throat.]
Will you disappear?
[Dimitri can wash himself, has enough sense left to know he can't expect her to do it. But he doesn't want to take his gaze off of her. Just in case... just in case...]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
"mental illness? that's something /dimitri/ has" -- edelgard 2022
[He would blame the fire burning in his head making him feel sick. It had nothing to do with his resolve.]
So... so teacher wants us to get along, you mean.
[At least he's capable of full sentences, once the pain of his clawing has subsided and he calms himself slightly. He blinked wearily, the pain he was feeling still immense. His head hurt so badly...]
Fine... Fine! I'll play your... games. If... whether it be teacher or the imperial army outside, take me where you will.
I can't... I can't chase you anylonger, El... I won't-- I refuse! to follow if you disappear.
YEAH she's perfect don't you know?
That’s fine with me. I’m not interested in playing right now.
( And with that she let go of Dimitri’s wrists. It wasn’t too shocking to say he was busted and blue. Even his crest couldn’t last him long. The prince was running out of time. In fact, if they hadn’t found him today. His condition was extremely poor. Perhaps he truly would be dead. )
Come, why don’t you return with me? Claude is here, I know you like him at least. I’m sure if he isn’t willing I’ll have Hubert or someone make you something proper to eat. I dread thinking of what you’ve been living off of in terms of food. Another thing, I hate to sound like your mother but you need a bath.
( He didn’t seem well enough to follow, extending her hand for him to hold. If he was going to act like this Edelgard didn’t have much of any choice but to baby him. )
well duh edelgard is perfect YAAAASS queens all around
[She is so small. Smaller than he could remember. Perhaps he had grown just that much larger. He curled his fingers around hers, his dirty gauntlets gripping into her pale perfect skin. She was like snow. It made him miss home all the more, thinking about the cold year they had spent together. She had been the bright color in his mind against the white cold backdrop of Faerghus. He heaved in another breath, shaky, before he moved to follow her. He wasn't about to let go of her now, and his grip showed it. Fearful she would disappear, hurt him, whatever else befell them... He wasn't going to let go.]
Then... everyone is here, if your words are true.
[Hubert was no surprise, as closely as he followed his lady, but Claude? Claude was one of the few persons who didn't cloud his mind with horrific visions of death. He knew (thought) his own classmates to be long dead but Claude, Edelgard... They had survived. They were here. Was this... reality? He skips her jibe about the bath entirely.]
If you are to poison me to my death... Well, I don't know if even you would stoop so low.
[He swallows again. His mouth and face seem to be the most affected by the hole in his eye socket. He keeps sucking spit in through his teeth.]
Feed me then. More than the rats and dogs that plague this holy place. I will eat.
no subject
Edelgard reminded herself not to allow his words to affect her, however. He may be well enough to bark orders but his grip was weak for Dimitri. The feeling was strange, walking over the great bridge that connected the chapel to the rest of the monastery. The building was destroyed, ruined, broken and forgotten… much like Dimitri. At one time he could have easily been her most fierce foe in this inevitable war. Now he was crumbling much like this bridge. Eating rats and mange ridden dogs that wandered into a place without even trash. The thought kept her silent during their short trip back to the dinning hall where people were gathered. )
—
( It was a sight to behold. Not only did Byleth return to them but so did the many people she touched. From the Black Eagles to the Golden Deer… even those of the Blue Lion house returned once more to the monastery one by one. Thankfully not too many of them had arrived by the time Dimitri had proper food in him. When Edelgard had brought him back only the professor, Claude, Hubert and Hilda were waiting for them. It seems Edelgard’s army was no longer in her command for Byleth had sent them all off to clean up the monastery of any remaining bandits and thieves. Not even Claude’s precious Golden Deer were following his orders any longer. (Ha!)
Hubert, naturally, was the first to rush to anyone's side. That being his lady’s side to check her for any harm that might have been done. Honestly, with all these men watching them… must he always embarrass her so? Not that scolding would do any good…
Dimitri was taken off Edelgard’s hands by dear teacher while Claude was the first to offer dinner. She could tell by the look in his eye that Ser Riegan had many of her same questions for their broken prince. It was hard not to stare, Edelgard already had plenty of time to look at him and yet even she still had wonders of how a man got into his state. The meal was simple enough, spaghetti with vegetables over meat. The war had made meat scarce. Despite Hubert’s best attempts at nudging Edelgard to sit away from the beast she found a spot directly beside Dimitri. Maybe it was the girlish side of her wanting him to call her “El” again. To think he thought of her still even now like that. The emperor had only assumed he harbored hatred for the name. Everyone noticed her playing with her curls while ogling the beast of burden. That didn’t last the entire meal, however. It hadn’t occurred to her at first, perhaps the outside air had helped mask the scent but sitting next to Dimitri made it very apparent that the man stunk. Sadly, it was killing her fantasy rather quickly. Someone was eventually going to have to deal with… all of that. Edelgard had chosen the side closest to his battered eye, it wasn’t looking well, even with the tomato sauce slopped on his face she noticed the blood dripping from under the tattered patch.
He ate, ate and ate some more. The poor man was starving. He would also be completely unable to handle the incoming reunion of people by tomorrow’s morn. With some swift kicks to Hubert, Byleth was once again able to split the two of them away from the incoming horde. Edelgard was in charge of him for the night. Between the two armies, dear teacher had chased out the rats and even got the sauna steaming. Edelgard had blushed a bright red when Byleth spoke of the bathhouse of all places to take him… t-though she only meant that the steam would make his wounds easier to mend. El will have you know that she will NOT be stripping down for no man, let alone this-this… filthy one! Somehow it felt their interactions were being forced by a matchmaker of sorts…
A gulp when the professor left them once more. Dimitri holding onto her hand even tighter than before, food happily in his belly giving him the energy to follow. A free hand goes to her chest, looking away from him, still so embarrassed. There was nothing to be shy about, she wouldn’t even be removing much of her clothing… she simply was and there was no ridding her cheeks of a rosy pink blush. )
You’re not going to fight me, are you? It’s clear that you need medical attention and I will be doing my best until a real doctor can see to you.
( As if he would even allow that. Honestly, this was challenging enough with someone he knew let alone someone like Linhardt that he didn’t or someone like Mercedes who he perceived as dead. He might be too shameful to accept help from the people that want him to be their king… )
spaghetti face...
[But Dimitri sat and he ate. He ate and listened to the others try to talk to him. Edelgard kept so close to him he didn't slip, didn't start to yell and cry again-- but he was absent. Wouldn't reply or respond even when teacher pleaded with him. Dimitri simply ate, and ate, whatever was shoved onto his plate in front of him. Drank down his mead. If anything it helped the pain in his head as it throbbed and sloshed around. Dimitri doesn't say much at their meal, mostly listening to Claude and teacher fill the void of silence between them all, but he eats. He paid no mind to Hilda whispering to Claude about how bad he stunk, or to Hubert's wilting gaze as he glared across at how closely Lady Edelgard sat to him. If being raised nobly had done anything for him it was that he could still ignore the riff raff. Be paranoid of them any time they made a sudden move, to be sure, but ignore the quiet comments and glowers.]
[When they are finally alone again together, by Byleth's design, Dimitri still has a drop of spaghetti sauce on his cheek. He's a mess, a sad horrible mess, but something about the stain of sauce on his cheek was... Well, maybe he seemed more like the innocent Dimitri who had gone to academy with them. The steam in the bathhouse felt strange. Dimitri had never been one who could withstand the heat of it, but he didn't seem phased by it now either. He was too dirty and tired and well... full now, to make a big deal about it. He hadn't even put two and two together than teacher had implied they should bathe together.]
A real doctor... [There's a scoff of laughter that sounds completely unlike Dimitri. Cold and unfeeling and uncaring. He glares at the ground, even after shrugging off his cape and throwing it behind him into the pile.]
No one needs to see to me. Do you not simply throw away a broken weapon?
so cute!! he ♥
Well I wouldn’t simply throw away something so precious, even if it was broken, when I know it can be repaired.
( She turned herself around to comfort him, taking out her personal handkerchief and rubbing the sauce from his face. To be suddenly this close… Edelgard couldn’t help but stare at him during dinner. To think Dimitri had been alive this entire time, alone and wandering these halls like a mad man. She was so distracted, forgetting her battered scarred arms were in plain sight. Normally no one but her Hubert would see her ruined skin. Much like him, Edelgard had her own traumas. They just dealt with them in very different ways. )
them ♥ 😳🥺
[He leaves his clothes in piles on the floor. Beneath his gauntlets are bruised, pale fingers that hadn't seen the sun in perhaps years. His feet were the same when off came his greaves. He'd perhaps tried to bind his toes up once upon a time, with the remnants of tape that were there, but they were a bloody mess regardless when he pulled them off. All of him stunk as his armor was removed. He reached behind himself once, and then again... And, unable to reach the clasps of his chest armor he revealed just how bad it was. Or, well, how long it had been since he'd taken it off, in any case. He could barely reach the clasp to undo it, finally groaning outright as he stretched his arm as best he could to take hold of the metal hooks and finally be free of them. It fell with a thud along with the rest of his armor, the soft shirt underneath just... in tatters. Barely holding on. Soaked in sweat, blood, and whatever other bodily fluids may have come in contact with it in the last few... years. He looked horrible under his armor, more than he did in his armor. Smaller, too thin, withered.]
You would... call me precious? Truly?
[That's what Dimitri focuses on, when he's finally standing in front of her in just his underclothes. The remnants of a soft shirt, his pants, and a belt that was so worn now it hardly mattered that it was looped into his trousers. At least he wasn't so shameless to stand in front of her naked anymore... but the clothing he did wear seemed almost stuck to his skin in places. Dimitri was loathe to remove all of them for fear of what could be beneath.]
no subject
You have always had people who care about you. Even now… Or, perhaps you’re trying to get me to say it.
( An attempt is made at teasing him. The air was far more tense, more so than within the chapel. The two of them had allowed time to pass and now without anything to scream at him for she was struggling to make conversation. Just like Dimitri, she was overly quiet at dinner. Rare, even for her. Edelgard wasn’t quite sure what was digging at her words that kept them inside. Maybe it had something to do with his deep voice saying her name… “El” the very thought circled around in her brain.
A pale of warm water had been filled while he undressed. Once the sheets of thick metal were removed it was ghastly to say the least. He looked malnutritioned, weak with a lack of muscle. Nothing completely frail but not exactly in good condition either. It seemed the only thing keeping him in somewhat of a shape was carrying around that lance and, well, swinging it of course. Though by the looks of things Dimitri was relying on his crest more and more these days.
Leaning over to dip a washcloth into the warm water, finding a comfortable set beside him despite that horrid body odor. Does she… wash him? He only stared with his remaining good eye. Edelgard feared what would be under the patch even if it was the biggest thing that needed attention. She could see the fresh blood had dried under it sealing it to his skin. )
Would you allow my help?
( Thinking about it, perhaps she should have just started. Giving him room to protest surely wouldn't benefit her. She just knew he didn’t have the energy for this, not even after his shoved down dinner. Dimitri was actually on his last leg… if they hadn’t found him, Gods… Thankfully they didn’t have to worry about it any longer. )
no subject
[He swallows the drool in his mouth, and finally averts his eyes to pull the shirt up and off of himself once and for all. He's littered with scars too, but not in the same way. His are obviously from weapons and war; bruises and welts along his shoulders and arms where arrows had dented his armor, crooked bones in his fingers where they had been broken, thick hard scars where the skin of blade wounds had knitted back together. His chest is thin, where muscle had once been maintained in academy, but his wide shoulders kept him from looking scrawny. He had a scar on the right side of his chest leading down into the muscle on his belly where a sword had nearly cut him too closely. And perhaps least important, unlike his academy days there was hair peppered over his chest and down his stomach, pale and blond as it was on his head but thick enough in places to be obvious. At least pulling the cloth off of his skin hadn't torn it open too badly, though he seemed overly covered in sores.]
[He sits next to her, naked from the waist up, and rests his hands on his knees. Strategically he's sat to her right, to keep his bad eye on the other side of her, to keep her in his vision. Even sitting she is small compared to him and it makes Dimitri feel so conflicted. Edelgard had been his mortal enemy, his mind screamed that she still was, yet here she sat offering to help him bathe. To tend his wound. To heal his shattered soul. He takes in a breath through his teeth again, the noise wet and sharp in the otherwise quiet bath house. No one else would dare to interrupt them, that much he hoped was true.]
If you mean to repair this broken weapon then I will not stop you. It will only make me stronger for when-- When...
[He's starting to ramble again when another sharp pain cuts through his head behind his eye and he cups his face in one of his big hands, teeth gritting so hard they squeak together. Dimitri exhales through his nose and tries to recover. His head had ached so often when he was growing up even as a child, when his mental state had been better yet still not well, and migraines would plague him at night. His father would always care for him personally, allow him to sleep in his bed, comfort him. After Duscur they had grown worse, then in academy... Now the stabbing pains never ceased. It makes him feel weak. His voice sounds more humble, more sane the second time. Smaller;]
Y... Yes... If you would-- help me...
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And yet he begs. Eventually, even with all his supposed “pride” Dimitri comes back down from his mindless insanity. He swallows back his madness and begs like an unwanted wet puppy. Edelgard steals her expression, she has been nothing but kind to him and if Dimitri continues to snear her she won't be rewarding him with pretty smiles. She has never been a “good woman” and she will not be changing anytime soon. Edelgard will not stay on this earth to please men, rather the opposite in fact. There will be no exceptions that includes men that are tall, handsome, and have big hearts.
V-very tall, indeed. This isn’t to say most of the men in her life weren’t also much taller than her at this point. Hubert has always been a tower in comparison. Dimitri was built strong, his shoulders wide and his neck thick much like his father. A fortress of a man if he would get himself back into shape. His body hair was distracting, she wasn’t sure why… perhaps because it smelled. C-Clearly, he smelled. Those purple eyes floating from his face down the trail that lead into his pants. A gulp– mind out of the gutter, Edelgard.
Her distraction was for the best, any insecurities surrounding her own body didn’t flood her mind. The scars on her body were a painful reminder of what she was, something not even human any longer. A being meant to fulfill her purpose and die an early death. Edelgard knew the topic was right around the corner yet she would do almost anything to never speak of it again. She placed the washrag into the pail, squeezing out any excess liquid before applying it to his tattered skin. Starting at his face, rubbing the warm water on his cheek. )
Will you fight me or cooperate with getting your hair washed?
( The only soap she had on her was her own. It wasn’t like she knew that she would be bathing a man tonight so he would simply have to stand smelling like a woman for now. It wasn’t anything too overly feminine, but with the smell of her perfume on everything it was hard not to associate it with a woman. )
el like *bitchingly* dimitri what about your noble duties and dima is like *schizo brain 🤪*
[The steam is loosening the dirt on him slowly in any case, no matter how much he's fighting with himself mentally. Water clings to his face and upper body in beads of condensation, drips down his chin and from his elbows. He's a bit better looking this way, even if he's still dirty. Wet with dew. Slowly, he leans into the touch of the cloth on his face and lets his good eye shut to allow her to wash him. He'd even begged her softly to, he couldn't bite the hand offering help too many times. She had brought him to teacher, showed him that the ghosts in his mind were not all dead and gone... At least, a small amount of hope still in him begged it not to be. For this to not be a dream he would wake up from, cold and alone and hurting once again.]
[It was a good dream.]
H-hurts... My-- head aches so.
[The small burst of arrogant energy Claude's meal had provided was fading fast, as ill as he was. Dimitri was already wavering again, hunched next to her to let his head stay in her reach, stringy blond hair falling in matts around his face as her fingers worked. The only times he jerked back from her touch was when she would get too close to his right eye, or whatever was left of it. It hurt too too badly, burned under her touch. The skin around the patch is scratched raw under the dirt when it comes off, with even deeper scars from long past barely healed. He'd dug his dirty nails into his face again and again to find some kind of relief.]
If you must. If... if it washes it away.
[It. The pain, the swelling, the infection. If it washed the screeching voices out of his head could he be rid of them? Would he finally be able to sit in the silence? The gentle ministrations of her cloth on his face slowly unstuck the dirt from him, cleaning his face inch by inch. The cloth patch, heavy with moisture and the pressure around his eye, finally started to peel away. From his brow to the inner corner of his eye was a deep scar. Perhaps salvageable once, a cut to his eye may have lost him his sight but healing it then would have kept him from losing it. It was long past that point now, the area weeping with fluid and swelling around his drooping eyelid. Drooped enough that even with the inflammation it was obvious there was nothing left behind it. He shook his head a little at the sudden air around the wound, hissing through his teeth. He pants softly, then his remaining eye darts to her, panicked and sad.]
Sorry. I've just... It's so much pain...
[An apology that comes as a surprise, maybe. His voice has grown softer and softer while she washes him, and now his hands shivered atop his thighs from the pain. Any lesser man without the strength his Blaiddyd crest would have expired in a trembling ball on the floor due to the feeling, perhaps. Dimitri somehow, through spite hatred and madness alone, could stay conscious through it all. Survive as long as he had.]
...Do what you wish, El.
"dimitri's mental illness" she said, bitchingly
Even so, with all his faults and rude behavior, he was still in pain. Could she blame him? His poor arms shivered and quaked as Edelgard pushed back his knot-covered hair, Dimitri’s battered face wincing in agony as the soap and water washed away the dirt. The warm steam kept the cold air from the now exposed wounds. She–She couldn’t stay mad at him. He was still asking nicely even if it wasn’t immediate. It was still far too shocking to see him alive to stay angry with him for long. )
It?
( Edelgard’s voice was calm, trying not to express anything too extreme while he was wincing. She didn’t want to make him think she couldn’t handle it nor did she wish to feed him with anymore disgust. Even if he wouldn’t admit it she could tell he heard the other’s comment on his appearance and smell. That had to be embarrassing despite how gone Dimitri was. He had human feelings under all the insanity, and with his eyepatch in the way it would be coming off soon whether either of them were ready to see what was left underneath or not.
Her hand reaching behind his head, Edelgard was so short comparatively the young woman was resting on her knees to reach. Slowly, as to not cause a jerking reaction, untying the patch. Despite the strings falling loose from gravity the patch itself clung to his skin… The wound would be gruesome, that is without a doubt at this point. A soft hand goes to cup his clean cheek as the other starts to rub the skin around the eyepatch. That unphased expression stayed on her face yet her mind was racing, anxious to see what became of his right eye. )
no subject
[He'd been raised to be strong in the face of pain and danger. It was common in Fodlan as a whole to raise children that way, especially those of noble birth. Dimitri would have to fight for his kingdom like his forefathers, in the footsteps of the Blue Lion himself. Yet this pain was unlike any other he had suffered. His head felt full of water, sloshing around in his skull, made it ache and throb. The sharpest of pains hits his face as she starts to work the cloth patch away from his skin, burning under her touch. It had been long ago that he stopped trying to care for it, simply hid it away under a strip of cloth that he might stop the itching. Yet it haunted him far more often than any voice in his mind.]
[Still he tried to steel himself, like a man would. Like his father would, in the face of skull rending pain. The muscles in his arms tighten on either side of himself as he grips his hands into fists so tightly he opens small cuts in his palms with his nails. His jaw is clenched still as she finally works the grime off of his skin and removes it from his face. It falls away, sopping wet, to the ground at their feet and Dimitri has to breathe out sharply through his nose as the air finally hits the old festering wound. Around his eye are deep scratches, some new and some scarred from long ago. The eyelid, while swollen, droops over the socket to cover the hole that remained in his head. Despite the infection it was obvious that one of his blue eyes has been wholly removed.]
[It had been a blur of events that now five years on Dimitri could barely remember. He'd run when Dedue got him out of his cell, panicked and upset beyond measure. It had been snowing heavily in Fhirdiad as it did in the early moons of the year and Dimitri had nearly nearly managed a clean escape. He'd taken a lance from the guardhouse near his prison and killed two of the men before they even had a chance to sound the alarm. He'd ran as fast as he could toward the outer walls to make his flight but in a moment of anguish he'd looked back to where he had left Dedue, tears blurring his vision in the cold. An arrow had glanced across his face where it might have sunken into the back of his neck had he not turned around, slicing through his eyelid and tearing into the jelly of his right eye. It tore from the corner of the bridge of his nose and up through his eyebrow, leaving a scar there where hair would never grow again.]
[In his panick, in the cold, Dimitri had done all he could do to survive in the place of Dedue's sacrifice, but he had no manner of healing himself. Had no one at all that he could trust to reveal himself to. As he sunk deeper into the madness of his mind, his wound had grown and festered to a feverous infection. He had scratched and scratched, trying to get the water, the fluid, the voices out of his head as it throbbed and shocked in pain. In his deepest darkness, the center of his madness, Dimitri had taken his fingers and dug them deep into the weeping eye socket. He scratched and pulled until he'd found a hold around the ruined orb of pus and jelly and had drawn his hand back with all his strength. He'd cut the nerve with something like a hunting blade, what was left of his eye crushed in his fist as he vomited from the pain. He'd slept for days afterward, a miracle from the Goddess that he had not succumbed to his fever and died there.]
[Now it was simply a hole in his face. His eyelid, the skin around it, was torn and scarred, infected, but the deep scratches of the years old injury were all that remained now. His skin red and raw around it from his hairline down to his cheek. Festering like the wounds in his psyche. That side of his face doesn't even twitch as the rest of him tenses and curls in pain. He lets out a noise not unlike an injured dog as he tries to calm himself down but to his merit he doesn't faint or vomit or even jolt away from her.]
Itches and-- sl-sloshes, burns. It itches.
[He stutters out the words almost like he's sobbing but only from the pain in his head. Slowly he tries to level his breathing and calm down, the tears dribbling from both his good eye and the hole in his head less noticeable in the steam but still streaming freely as he tried to recover. Finally he jerks his hands up but only to hold the sides of his head. He doesn't even scratch, remembering how she had-- she had scolded him, even worried about him over his nails digging into his skin if he were lucky. He simply sat there frozen, getting used to the air hitting the wound as the steam sunk into every crevice of him.]
In my-- head. B-burns...
no subject
When the patch refused to give, sticking to his face with a stubborn hold, she had started holding the wet cloth over it to loosen its grip. A few times she simply had to pull away from him and allow him to thrash in pain, once it finally peeled off it became very understandable why such a pain ridden reaction was necessary.
The hole where Dimitri’s right eye once rested was completely barren. Her composure was barely maintained when his eyelid blinked in terrible pain at the steam's touch. Nothing was left, Dimitri had dug out his own eye in his madness. As she started into the empty void it brought her back to the darkest place she had ever been. The cold walls of the dungeon, the rats and mice running across their feet biting at their skin, her last remaining brother commenting on how delicious her legs looked– No! Her eyes squeezed shut as those memories swirled around in his head. A deep breath, once, twice, and another. What’s done is done and those times are over now. She lived for more than herself, now and for always. What she needed to do right now is tend to the injured man in front of her.
She closed her eyes once more, applying the warm rag to his face again after it had been rinsed. His painful bellows almost didn’t affect her when her brain was this numb. )
I know. I know it will hurt…
( They started with the men first; aesthetics, you know. Her eldest brother stood tall and proud, barely old enough to be considered such and yet already a man.
“Everything will be alright, whatever they are looking for will begin and end with me.”
In a way he was the lucky one– Another shake of her head. Edelgard couldn’t, it would never be the time to talk about any of this ever again. It will end with her. All of it. Right now she needed to focus on the boy who gave her the dagger. The dagger that stabbed Emir the night he– STOP. She had no more tears for this! Nothing more can be done there was no use talking about any of it.
The hand that cupped his cheek went to her forehead, rubbing the demons away so to speak, as she continued holding the cloth to his eye socket.. )
–but it will have to hurt before it gets better. Stay strong, Dimitri.
now hes having flashback uwus or something lmao these two
[Slowly he calms his breathing, at her words of comfort. It is that, comfort. Choosing him over herself, such a big sister. That was right, she was his elder sister, in a way. Dimitri had never known the comfort and love (or pain and annoyance) of having siblings. Edelgard was the only thread that remained of his broken family. To think of her that way made his eyes sting in a fresh wave of tears but he sniffed sharply through his nose and brushed the thought away. She was here in reality, older than he remembered her from so long ago, she had brought him to teacher and their old companions. He was not in a realm of delusion here with her in the steam. The heat helped to make him feel woozy as his head swirled in pain but he simply gripped tighter into his palms to feel the sharp pain of his nails. To ground himself.]
[He couldn't vomit on her, not when she was working so diligently to clean him. So Dimitri eased his breathing, tried to focus on the water from the basin that felt cooler on his skin than the heat of the sauna. Finally he leaned into the press of the rag to his injured eye and let his other close, trying to revel in the feeling of... relief, if he could call it that. His face was so warm with infection that it felt nice, especially without the pressure of the dirty patch that had held so much filth inside.]
I... I-I...
[He can barely speak still, his teeth chattering at the pain before he steels himself again, tenses his arms to keep himself conscious.]
Thank you... El, you...
[Dimitri's voice is rough as he speaks, but anything to distract himself from the pain is welcome. He huffs in a breath, then tries again.]
Remember you-- I mean, I remember you... scolding me like this... before... C-calming me down...
[He rolls his shoulders back suddenly, desperate to make the tension in his head and neck and back go away. It's only minorly successful, so he slumps forward further toward her, his filthy head hanging nearer to her shoulder. She was so small next to him, knelt on the bench with him. Small, pretty, small, tiny, soft, so soft, little... He focused on the image of her in his memories to keep himself steady, her judgmental violet eyes as she wagged her finger at him for being reckless as they played, for hurting himself...]
S-so kind... El...
"dimitri's mental illness" she said, bitchingly (2)
That’s right, perhaps it was best to contextualize things, at this very moment she is the Emperor of the Adrestian Empire. Dimitri, the once crowned prince of the Holy Kingdom of Ferghus, was found today in the remains of Garreg Mach after five years of absence. Their teacher was back from the dead, Claude von Riegan avoided confrontation yet again, and she was giving Dimitri essentially a sponge bath. If the Goddess was still looking over them she had a very strange way of doing things. )
You have me remembering a lot of things, actually.
( It was sweet how he pressed into her, that odd trust he seldomly gave. The more he talked about their past the more Edelgard could recall. It had been so foggy until that day at the Holy Tomb. He had always been her boy who gave her the dagger, deep in the dark nights of her touture happy memories were lost in a cloud of unspeakable trauma. When this Crest of Flames was finally forced upon her it had been a time of great pain and nightmarish terrors. After everything it was the only thing she could remember for what felt like an eternity. That place took his name away from her… )
I- I’m sorry
...That we didn’t get to share a dance in academy.
( Numb again, it made the sight of his wound far more bearable. She whipped the dried blood from his face, using her little fingers to gently work around the swollen skin. It was gastly feeling nothing behind the lid. )
"i dont want to dance dimitri" said edelgard, tsundereingly
[He would never forget the scent of her soap.]
I... tried to find you, that night.
[He tries not to let himself drift, focusing on the image of her at the ball. She had looked so beautiful that night. Soft and pretty with a flush high in her cheeks. Graceful, beautiful. The object of all of his affections. He had caught her eye and she had snuck away pointedly from him.]
We could have-- c-could have danced.
[It's sudden, but everything about Dimitri is unpredictable at this point. He finally unclenches his fists where he's been holding them tense against his thighs and instead reaches to grab ahold of her shoulders. So slender. So small. His good eye opens to look at her, eyelashes clinging with water but bright blond as she washed away the dirt. He doesn't ...do anything, hands just holding onto her as he looks at her, wondering how ruined he is to her now. Fear rises in his chest at the thought, that he's nothing more than a beast she's taking pity on before leading him to the-- No. No, she had said-- she said-- she wasn't going to hurt him. It was fine. They were fine. This moment, this intimate moment, it was theirs. Dimitri lets go of a breath, fingers pressed gently into the fabric of her dress. Her scarlet was seeping into him, dying him with purple.]
Could've... Do you think that... w-we could have, everyone would have stared, I--
I only... wanted you to.. t-to look at me.
no subject
She simply couldn’t remember him…Edelgard had forgotten how to be happy. Before academy there were only nightmares and orders. She wasn’t allowed to think of joyful childhood memories. If the young girl ever dared her memoirs would punish her with terror. After a while you stop trying to remember the past when it seems only filled with pain. Even if she never remembered meeting Hubert or her father’s smile. Even if she never remembered that boy who played with her in the snow.
Stop-! Just stop it.
It wasn’t her fault!
Edelgard’s eyes squeezed shut, swallowing the pit in her throat. She needed to take the pressure off his wound if she wasn’t going to look at him, rubbing the warmth down his cheek before tossing it back in the pale.
She’s sorry.
She’s so sorry!
If only she had been perfect maybe she’d be allowed to have those precious memories back. She– Needed to open her eyes. Dimitri said he wanted her to look at him… That was easy enough, right? She wasn’t going to cry. Edelgard was too strong, her skin too thick, what was there to cry about? A soulless, war hungry monster didn’t have anything to cry about. )
…Yes, if I had remembered you, I would have danced with you without a doubt.
( She opened her eyes to look directly at him. The blush on her cheeks grew. Her heart was beating so fast. He wouldn’t make her say it, would he? Don’t make her admit how much she cares about him. Edelgard’s short, pathetic life didn’t have the right to drag anyone down with her. )
now hes just delusional sorry el
[Everything seemed so quiet.]
We... we could...
[Dimitri smiles, perhaps for the first time in a long time. Half of his face doesn't seem to react, the golden prince's smile no more and to never be seen again, but instead replaced with the most hesitant of crooked ones. He never thought he would think of these things again, not in such a warm and pleasant way. Never thought he would be speaking to Edelgard so softly in his low, gravely voice. He sways forward with his hands still gripping her shoulders, almost whimsically as he remembers the ball. Remembers her hands in his long ago, dancing in his father's courtyard. Then his head throbs again and he wobbles, falters, and grabs her tighter to keep from pushing them over on the bench. His forehead rests against hers, noses touching, where he could feel her breath against his face.]
[He's panting from the effort of just that tiny motion, but he won't let her go now. Can't let her go.]
El... El...
[He's struggling through the pain, wishes he could drag her to her feet and swing her around. Stuck in his illness and injury and madness he sits there, helpless, reveling in the way her skin felt soft and wet against his own. Soft. Too soft. So... small. Soft.]
she doesn't like him or anything. baka
If you listen to me… and let me help you… I’ll consider it.
( His smile was very charming, contagious–a small one appeared on her lips as well. She was not thinking about kissing him. The thought of kissing him never crossed her mind. Especially not right now. Edelgard started to worry how she would act once he didn’t smell like a corpse… with the right diet he would surely start building muscle again. Under the grim and dirt was a handsome prince which she didn’t like or anything. )
Before you flirt with me perhaps you shouldn’t stink, Dimitri.
( A girlish giggle, eyes darting away feeling shy at her foolishness. Dimitri was lucky she thought he was cute, what other woman would put up with this stupid man? Her cheeks stayed a bright pink and she leaned him back. She wanted to finish his face before they started throwing soap and water into his hair. His eye socket was still very swollen but it looked so much better. The blood and puss had been removed and Mercedes would have a much easier time tending to it. )
👉👈can he use his good boy points for one (1) dance el
[If that Dimitri still existed at all, he would have been just as focused on her soft touches and gentle words. Watched her move around so gracefully, as she took care of him. If they were still in academy like this, Dimitri surely would have perished from his own blushing. After all, the sauna heat did get to both of them. In fact, Dimitri takes the red in her face as a biproduct of the heat from the steam. Like before, when their classmates would tease them from having to tap out of sauna time early. Even Dimitri, from the land of ice and snow, wasn't able to stand the heat.]
Well... I'll have to. [He clears his throat, for the first time attempting to knock the gravel out of it.]
--T-to ask you later. After.
[He reacts a little differently to the comment of his smell, his brow furrowing a little. He'd heard other people (Hilda) at dinner mention the same but he supposed he'd simply gotten too used to it to notice anymore. The scent of her soap was so incredible compared to whatever filth he'd been living in he couldn't smell anything else right now. It was sort of relieving in a way, to know his sense of smell hadn't really been taken from him along with his sense of taste. At least... at least he had that. Slowly Dimitri moves his hands from her shoulders so she can keep cleaning him up, dropping them to his lap.]
I'll let you wash me.
[Dimitri's a little too far gone to realise how that sounds... But he's being pitiful and gentle in the very least. Anything to make his head stop burning.]
okay back to this sad, adorable shit
The thought of warming him came to mind, but with how Dimitri was at the moment it sounded better to just shove him around to get him into the positions that worked best. Fingers tipped his chin back. Brushing his long, untamed bangs from his face. She did her best to keep the water on the edge of his scalp. Sitting up on her knees just to climb the tall man. )
I can’t imagine how you’ll feel once we’re finished, Dimitri. I can’t believe you’re even alive in this condition... Just bare with me.
( Back to “mothering” him. The man was rambling nonsense while jumping back and forth between reality and insanity. Gentle words worked best. Though scolding seem to affect him as well.
The bath water was a nice temperature, hot enough to cleanse his aching body. You could hear the sound of the water hitting the bench beneath them as the pale was dumped. Another sigh as she once again leaned over to fish around in her things. Next comes the shampoo. He would simply have to smell like a woman for now there was nothing Edelgard could do about that. Her fingers dug into his hair, scratching his scalp, nails breaking up the dead skin. The back of his skull was his warm spot, having collected much of the scabs. She could tell it was drawing blood but… she refused to allow it to fester any longer. He would pay the price for this mistreatment. At least he was getting clean. )
lays on the ground
[But he behaves as best he can.]
[Her nails, somehow, feel better than any scratching he could do himself (probably the soap, Dima,) and it soothes him almost immediately. His good eye has been squeezed shut tightly to keep anything from going into it (terrifying,) but as she digs her nails into him he starts to relax. It feels good, too good, when she scratches. He lets out a deep sigh and sinks down a bit to give her a better angle to reach every spot she felt like, grumbling pleasantly. She was so small, he kept forgetting. With his eye closed he couldn't see her, only feel her, and it was...]
Feels good... already.
[His voice has been soft and low the whole time they've been in the bathhouse but now it's downright faint. Certainly not the booming, scared voice he'd used earlier with her in the cathedral. His other hand moves up to cover his good eye (now he looks like a child at bath time,) to let her move his head all around however she needs to wash him. His hair needs brushed and definitely cut but for now getting it clean like this would have to do. Under the muck and grime was the same flaxen blond hair he'd always had. The blond that matched his eyelashes. Even as she scratched away bloody scabs it felt better. Any kind of pain was less than the pain behind his missing eye and a welcome distraction.]
Perhaps... Spite alone. [In reference to "how are you even alive, Dimitri".]
pets his belly
Edelgard did the best she could with his hair. Some of the worst rats were in the back where she assumed he would twist and turn throughout the night. Tangled terribly, it would need to be cut. She couldn’t picture trying to run a brush through it in its current state. However, even with all the rats and knots, it was slowly coming out that bright golden blonde. He really did end up looking like his father… That had been so long ago. Faintly she remembers her mother commenting on how handsome Lambert was while she stuck her tongue out at the idea. Adults and their gross ideas of each other. Such an innocent time… Edelgard had Dimitri and his dagger to thank for those memories. )
How’s that feel? Better?
( Her nails scratched behind his ears and around the hairline, back against his neck where all the sweat collected. Tilting his chin once more when it was time to rinse him off. The water that fell to the ground was filthy. Much like he had been… Edelgard still sayed rather unsure about her bare arms and wrists in his view but Dimitri was so out of it perhaps it didn’t matter. The scars from her childhood were visible where veins could be easily accessed. It made her feel ugly, disgusting — like a monster. )
You’re starting to look more like the prince I once knew. Though, I’ll admit, you’ve gotten taller and wider since we last met.
( She refused to wash anything like his grotesque armpits or anything below his waist. Once his hair was rinsed, however, she did fill the pale up once more with warm water. )
I won’t be helping you any further. I’ll be right outside to give you your privacy. Do wash the rest.
( Edelgard whipped her face and hands clean with one of her own washcloths before Dimitri’s stink touched them. Leaving the cloth with an embroidered “E” in the coroner on the side of the pale while discarding the one used on his face. It wasn’t salvaged… best to just toss it rather than expect someone to clean it. Gathering his things, her high heels which she had taken off for the bathhouse hooked between her fingers. She left her soaps and other hygiene products with him. They all fit nicely into a little pink bag that was designated for bathing… Hubert was a bit meticulous when it came to managing her belongings… )
🐶🐶
[Dimitri wants to reach out, to grab onto her and not let her go. His stomach sinks, churning with the food from dinner at the idea.]
Will you go away again?
[Voice small and pitiful as before. He looks back up to her face, water clinging to his long blond eyelashes. His useless eyelid flutters reflexively as he focuses on her.]
[He chokes on a lump in his throat.]
Will you disappear?
[Dimitri can wash himself, has enough sense left to know he can't expect her to do it. But he doesn't want to take his gaze off of her. Just in case... just in case...]
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🐁
🔪🔪🐭💀 animal death warning ig lol hi whoever is reading this fanfiction
im in tears
sad thread becomes comedy hours rip mickey mouse
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/shy didi
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hubby icon
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/dramatic. sorry lol
girl dramatic is my middle name
will they fuck?
you could both fit on the bed if you laid on his chest el 👀🥴
noooo!!! she would die
he'd keep you extra warm 🥰🥰
no icon moment
i only have neutral to feral expressions none of them work for this either lol
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*trying to have a romantic moment with the girl he likes* his brain: lmao bet
she wishes dimitri's mental illness wouldn't get in the way of her romantic moment
"didi could you just stop being mentally ill for one fucking second thx 💋"
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writes my baby dimigard fanfiction
comment 69 was el putting lip gloss on him I just realized B)
👄💄💏
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
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imagine i have an icon where his eye is welling up with tears in a pretty cry way
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it took 14 years but he finally got the girl 😌 perseverance
when the tsundere takes 14 years but she finally dates you.... baka
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fuck im crying lol
when the blorbos make u cry
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