her early leaf's a flower

[backstreetbard]

[ The Blue Lions have a different kind of energy, as a class, than Dorothea had grown accustomed to in the Black Eagles. While her former classmates had carried the air of coworkers being (sometimes very begrudgingly) forced to spend time together outside of business hours, the Lions are like a family in many ways, albeit a dysfunctional one. She’s made a little progress with some of her classmates: Ashe and Annette are both sweet as ripe peaches; Mercedes, too, seems kind, but pragmatic as well. It’s the others that Dorothea has had the most difficulty with.

Ingrid... Dorothea sighs to think of Ingrid. She’d misstepped there, and she knows it—been too familiar too fast and driven her away in a conversation that ended with a resounding and very final-sounding back off. She hadn’t meant to alienate the girl, and she wonders if it's even possible to repair that relationship.

Sylvain is at the opposite end of the spectrum; they’d flirted occasionally with practiced ease, taking the measure of one another until she realized he derived no real enjoyment from it. He's an actor, and a good one, but Dorothea can see beneath the mask. If he hates women in general, she wondered how much he must have hated her in particular, appearing to be the embodiment of every kind of feminine wickedness that he resents.

Felix, of course, was his own animal entirely. He’s coarse for a nobleman, but not in the seedy, perverse ways she’d been exposed to back in Ebnarr. She’s seen him speaking sweetly to Annette. The reception she received was far less welcoming; Felix had treated her like an annoying stray cat, shushing her and calling her a nuisance to her face.

Dimitri and his hulking retainer are practically a single unit, by her estimation, one rarely seen without the other. Dimitri himself is friendly and polite almost to a fault, charming in the way large puppies are when they grow into their strength so quickly that they don't recognize it; and while Dedue is a bit harder to read (in large part thanks to the distance he purposely keeps from others), he seems kind and loyal.

She found it nearly impossible to spend time with them, though, mostly because Dimitri's friends seem to be running an interference campaign to keep her away from their prince for reasons she understands all too well. Dorothea had never made it a secret that her primary motive for coming to Garreg Mach was to find herself a spouse--someone to love and care for her in her old age, to prevent her from finding herself in the same destitute condition she'd spent so much of her life enduring. She knows what the other students think of her, how they call her a gold-digger when they think she's out of ear-shot.

Sometimes it's easier, then, to spend time on her own, seated primly on a flight of stairs at the far end of the monastery in the company of a small host of cats. The one in her lap purrs as she scratches under its chin. ]


You know, Spoonie, I think you don't realize how lucky you are. People feed you all the time just because you're cute and soft. You don't have to work or go off to fight in awful battles--you can lie in the sun all day and not worry one jot about what's going on in the world outside these walls. I'm a little bit jealous of you.

Comments

[cutthrough]

( While Dimitri doesn't resent his title, there are often parts of it that never quite sit well with him. Particularly, it's how distant he is from others. He has friends, certainly, but even they address him by a title. At times it feels as if they are friends with the title or idea of him, instead of him. Even such a thing feels true with Dedue. A part of him wonders - hopes - a day will come when he'll find someone who will see past his title.

So the idea of new classmates, ones who he had the chance to bond with in a different way had been a welcome idea. Or at least it had until his childhood friends seemed to regularly herd him away from Dorothea despite his insistence that as classmates, they should get to know one another properly. It was important to build some sense of trust and comradery, after all. And yet, the things the other's said about her were so... crass, Dimitri can't deny he's frustrated. To judge someone so harshly in the way they had Dorothea is unacceptable, frustrates him to no end. And he will not stand for it. He reminds the others of such things often, urging them to change their views and accept Dorothea despite her perceived flaws. But still, they keep her at arms length.

So the sight of her seated on the stairs is a welcome one. He's freshly showered after a long afternoon of training, and his usual companions are scattered about the monastery with their own tasks. It's a welcome bit of freedom, more so now that he has an opportunity to speak with Dorothea properly.

He approaches slowly, watching her carefully. )

Hello, Dorothea. ( He greets, warm and polite. ) May I join you? ( His hand moves, motioning towards the space beside her. )

[backstreetbard]

Dima!

[ Not Dimitri, because formal names are reserved for people she's cross with. She'd heard his approach--not that he's loud, but the armor he always wears makes a distinct jingling sound, so she isn't startled out of her reverie so much as drawn out of it. Looking up and over at him, Dorothea pats the cobblestone beside her with a small grin. ]

Of course you may.

[ Glancing around, she notices that Dedue is nowhere to be seen, which is a rare occurrence. Is it possible that she has Dimitri to herself for a few moments? She can scarcely imagine how she got so lucky.

There's a ginger-striped tabby curled up against her hip, but she scoops it up and settles it on her other side to make space for the prince, subtly readjusting her own posture into something a little more prim. She's a bit embarrassed that he caught her talking to a cat, but she supposes everyone has their own quirks. Didn't Bernie talk to the plants in the greenhouse?

Anyway, she tosses her hair once and gives him her most dazzling smile once he's seated beside her, radiating the stage presence she's honed over years in the opera. ]

To what do I owe the pleasure? I feel like we never get to spend any time together.

[cutthrough]

( The name catching him offguard for a few seconds, something that shows in the way the blue eyes blink a couple of times. But he recovers quickly, the corners of his lips curving upward in a small smile. )

Thank you.

( He watches the way she moves the cat before he steps forward and folds neatly into the space beside her. He notices the way she readjusts herself, but he doesn't say anything. It's something he's used to seeing others do - something about being approached by a prince makes people want to present themselves a bit differently. Still, a part of him wonders if a day will come when he meets someone who will act freely without regard for him or his title. )

I saw you on my way back from the baths. I had hoped we would be able to speak, finally.

( A quiet sigh leaves him, and he glances towards the cat curiously. )

How are you adjusting to our class? I know we can be an... interesting group.

[backstreetbard]

[ Not that he would realize it, but part of the reason she readjusts her posture is to make sure that her figure is displayed to best effect--shoulders squared so her chest is more prominent, legs crossed just so to bring attention to the stretch of pale thigh between the hem of her skirt and her tall boots. It's force of habit more than anything contemplated in the moment, being so used to existing under the public eye.

The gray cat in her lap blinks lazily up at her as she scratches under its chin. Dimitri's comment about them finally being able to speak cheers her a bit, indicating that he's not oblivious to the fact that she's been struggling to fit in. ]

If I'm being completely honest, I don't think your friends like me very much. [ Dorothea is certain that Dimitri knows his circle of friends well enough to understand why their personalities might clash. ] But don't you worry, I'm used to that kind of reception. Some of the others have been perfectly lovely.

[cutthrough]

( The blue eyes drop towards the cat in her lap, and it's enough that he can't miss the position of her body. Still, he politely doesn't let his gaze linger even if he notices. And oh, he notices.

A soft sigh leaves him as she speaks, and tension rises to his shoulders. He abruptly seems more tense, but it doesn't show on his expression even though his eyes turn away to a few of the other cats. )

They can be... difficult. ( There's a slight shake of the head, lips curving into a frown. ) They believe they are being justly protective. Their actions and words say otherwise, unfortunately. ( Frowning, he lifts her gaze back to her face, and his hands twitch where they're perched on his own thighs as if he is considering reaching out touching her in a form of comfort, though he stops himself. )

You shouldn't be. Though I know how needlessly cruel people can be.

[backstreetbard]

[ As if to spare Dimitri from the dilemma of whether or not to reach out to her, the displaced ginger tabby hops up onto his lap and meows in a way that demands attention. Dorothea laughs and nudges his side with her elbow, leaning closer in a casual way. ]

Oh look, she likes you! She likes to be scratched between her ears and riiight down the bridge of her nose, like this.

[ Invading his personal space in a way most people wouldn't dare, Dorothea leans in closer still and reaches out her hand to run her fingertip from the cat's nose up to the spot between its ears. The cat's eyes shut in pure bliss, its mouth hanging open slightly before it yawns with contentment. ]

I call her Sasha, and this one is Silver Spoon, or Spoonie for short. I don't know if the staff have different names for them or not. I just know they keep them around to make sure pests don't get into the food pantries.

[ As cute and distracting as the cats are, Dorothea knows she can't leave Dimitri's comments unanswered. Her tone is deceptively casual, but the words themselves pull no punches. ]

You know I'm a commoner, so it shouldn't be too surprising that I'm accustomed to being treated poorly by the nobility. Not everyone is as egalitarian as you, I'm afraid. Besides, it's no secret that I'm interested in finding a spouse for myself while I'm here, so the conclusion is that I'm going to use my wicked feminine wiles to ensnare some poor rich boy who doesn't know any better. I'll let you in on a little secret, though.

[ Here she lowers her voice slightly, as if she's about to let him in on some conspiracy that ought not to be overheard by eavesdroppers. ]

During my time at the Mittelfrank, I was proposed to no fewer than fifty times. I lost count, if I'm being honest. I turned them all down because I have standards. They were too old or unscrupulous or... generally unpleasant. So I came here to meet someone nice, close to my own age. I don't see why that's so wrong. Do you?

[cutthrough]

( The weight of the cat in his lap is a welcome one, but there's a noticeable hesitation in the way his hand moves to pet her. He's always admired most animals from afar, worried he might hurt them with his strength. It had taken him years to feel comfortable interacting with his horse without fear of hurting him, and a cat? A cat is so much smaller than a horse.

But he's distracted from those thoughts by the way Dorothea leans in close. He doesn't move away, rooted in place by the pleasant scent that comes off of her. And despite his attempts to keep his gaze on the cat, the angle is just right that he can see the line of her neck, down her chest to the seam between her breasts. He swallows hard, a dust of color spreading across his cheek before he forces his gaze back to the cat. )

They're quite useful to have around. ( He manages, finally moving his hand to stroke a slow and careful line down the feline's back. When the animal doesn't cry out in pain or discomfort, he dares repeat the motion.

His gaze trails back to her, fixing determinedly on her face as she speaks. He listens intently, lips curving downward as she does. He's well aware of how nobility treats those they feel are beneath them, and it makes a familiar feeling of anger and disapproval coil in his gut. But he doesn't interrupt her, continuing to listen. Curious to learn more despite how he feels about the way she has been treated. )

Everyone has their own reasons for attending. ( The smile he offers is soft and polite. ) Though I imagine those with titles and other responsibilities might find your reasoning and methods distracting or frustrating. ( He continues petting the cat in his lap, gazing turning down towards her as he considers his next words. ) So long as you respect the boundaries others set about such matters and allow others to accomplish their own goals, I hardly see a problem. ( Though truthfully, he isn't personally interested in such things. )

What will you do if you find the spouse you are seeking?

[backstreetbard]

Now, I'm here to learn, too. Make no mistake. I know we'll be in real battles and I have no intention of becoming a casualty. [ Not after everything she's already survived. ] And it isn't like I go out of my way to make trouble for anyone. If they find me "distracting or frustrating" then that's on them. But I won't complain, even if that's the nicest thing they say about me--I knew what I was getting myself into when I came here.

As for what I'd do if I met someone... I suppose we'd get married and have children. If I can I'd like to do philanthropic work wherever I end up living. Open orphanages, get kids off the street, that sort of thing.. No one should have to live like that.

[ The conversation is threatening to become far too serious at this point, straying into territory that she isn't comfortable covering with a boy she barely knows. It's a balancing act, walking the edge between sincerity and coy flirtation. Time to change speed a little. ]

Beyond that, I'd eat sweet treats every day! Have you ever seen a rose made entirely out of sugar? They sell them at the fanciest bakeries in Enbarr, and they're just darling.

[ He's a prince, after all, though it's always seemed to her that the nobles from Faerghus are much more severe than those from Adrestia, when she's had the chance to observe them. Dimitri seems kind, though. Sweet, even. She knows there isn't a chance in this life or the next that an actual prince would fall for a prima donna, but a girl can dream, can't she? ]

What about you? Do you have plans for the future? Apart from becoming King, of course. Are you seeing anyone special?

[cutthrough]

I find you to be quite competent and reliable on the battlefield. I'd hardly worry you'd become a casualty. ( The words come easily, polite but genuine all the same. And it's perhaps the first real indication that he's paid her any attention outside of their time in the classroom.

He glances curiously at her as she speaks, nodding as she does. ) I agree. I have hopes that one day I can make a difference to those in need, to lessen the divide between nobility and those without a title to their names to give everyone hopes of a better life.

( The question earns a short chuckle, and he shakes his head. )

I don't think I have, but I would like to. ( Not that he can really enjoy sweets or anything else for its flavor... )

Me? Well, I hope to make a fair amount of changes when I take the crown. Though I hope to be able to keep up my training and ensure I am a warrior worthy of being called a king and leading an army. ( Faerghus men and their lust for blades and battle, he wonders if anyone else might understand them.

But the last question makes him shake his head. ) No. I admit, I've never taken any real interest in pursuing a relationship. Though I suppose it'll be expected of me soon.

[backstreetbard]

[ Dimitri's vote of confidence is unexpected but not unwelcome, and Dorothea allows herself to bask in it for a few seconds, beaming at him in pleased surprise. What really seems to surprise her, though, is the idea that someone born to power might actually want to use it for the benefit of the common people, and she says as much. ]

I have to say, before coming here I'd barely met anyone of noble blood who had an interest in much of anything beyond increasing their own status and wealth. But here you are, set to be king and talking about lessening the divide between the nobility and common folk? I like you even better now.

[ She winks to show she's being playful, but it's not untrue. Nobles like Lorenz and Ferdinand do nothing but talk all day about how noble they are and noble responsibilities and the burden of nobility and even the noble art of pouring tea. It's insufferable. Dimitri seems far more level-headed than that, which she can appreciate in a man. ]

I'm sure you'll be a wonderful warrior king one day. I'm a little surprised your advisors haven't been pestering you about marriage yet, trying to set you up with some crested noblewoman. Or are the rules different for you in Faerghus? Could you marry a commoner with no issue? Hypothetically.

[cutthrough]

( Her words and wink make color spread across his cheeks, and he turns the blue eyes down towards the cat in his lap. )

Many nobles think only of themselves and their people suffer for it. You have no kingdom without your people.

( He rubs gently under the cats chin, lips curving slightly at the corner of his lips as he continues to give the feline attention. His hand only stills at the mention of marriage, and he huffs out a short laugh. )

Oh, it comes up often. I receive many letters reminding me of all the princesses and noblewomen who are young, crested, and ready to wed. It can be... quite exhausting, truthfully.

( A quiet sigh leaves his lips, and he glances curiously towards her at her question. )

We have no laws forbidding us from wedding a commoner, though I admit my advisors would be quite unhappy with me if I chose to do so. If I met someone who I was happy with and wanted to spend my life with them, that is who I would like to marry regardless of their statue or crest.

[backstreetbard]

[ Dimitri's blush is incredibly endearing, and Dorothea has to bite her lip to keep from smiling too much at having elicited such a reaction from him. This is all just harmless banter, though, right? Of course. Just two classmates chatting. No harm done. ]

I don't envy you on that front. Exhausting sounds about right, especially considering you don't even know most of them, I'd imagine. [ The answer to her question has Dorothea rolling her eyes a little, but not at Dimitri himself. ] Oh dear, we certainly can't have your advisors being cross with you, now, can we? Especially not regarding a decision that will affect the rest of your life. My goodness.

[ Turning slightly, she meets his eyes directly and arches her brows, taking the liberty of poking him in the chest. ]

I hope you stand up for yourself. You're too nice for your own good sometimes. You can't let them push you into a relationship you don't want. You deserve to be with someone who really loves you. ... That's what I think, anyway.

[cutthrough]

( Truthfully, her attitude is... refreshing. While he considers all of his classmates his friends, he is painfully aware of how the often lean drastically in the direction of reminding him of his status or his duties, whether intentionally or otherwise. Yet Dorothea speaks so freely without regard to either. It helps him to relax, and there's a noticeable drop in his shoulders. )

Not particularly well, no. Many of them are much closer to my uncle than with me. I suppose that will change when I take the crown.

( It'll be... refreshing to be done with his uncle's court and ideals. He often wonders if he'd feel the same if his father were still here, though that's a thought he doesn't allow himself to dwell on now.

Not when she pokes him in the chest, anyway.

He meets her eyes easily, one brow going up slowly. )

I have learned over the years, my happiness is not quite a priority to them. I stand my ground when I need to, even if it happens more often than I would like.

[backstreetbard]

You'd think they'd be more interested in winning your favor, since they should know your uncle is only the regent for now. It'd be better for them to appeal to you, in the long run. But what do I know about politics? I am but a humble diva, and Enbarr is quite different from Fhirdiad.

[ She shrugs in a theatrical way but resumes petting the cat in her lap when it meows for attention. ]

What about your friends? They're the future leaders of Faerghus, aren't they? Do they stand up for you, too?

[cutthrough]

You would think.

( Dimitri echoes faintly with a sigh, focusing on gently scratching the cat in his lap under the chin. It would be pleasant to be able to spend the afternoon just sitting here talking, he muses, enjoying Dorothea's company and petting the cats. )

In their own ways, yes. Though admittedly they have their own issues and duties they need to address as well. It would be unfair to demand they put aside their own problems to address my lack of a desire to wed.

[backstreetbard]

It takes a lot to run a country I guess. But I don't just mean in regards to you marrying, but more in general, I suppose. They're your longtime friends, right? They'll back you up when it comes to other things, hopefully? Well... maybe not Felix. I don't know, he's...

[ Dorothea trails off, not wanting to speak ill of Dimitri's friends to him, even though they've given her enough reason to. She settles on: ]

He's prickly. [ She shakes her head. ] But enough about that. Tell me more about yourself? Do you like music? Poetry? I know that long epic poems are very traditional in Faerghus. Is there a theater in Fhirdiad? Have you ever been to an opera before?

[cutthrough]

It does, I'm afraid. I admit I didn't have as much time to spend with my father as I would have liked.

( It's his turn to trail off with those words, gaze turning away from both Dorothea and the female in his lap at the thought of his father. He's grateful to have something else to continue speaking about instead. )

Yes. I have known them all my life. They would all support my decisions so long as they are reason, I believe. Even Felix.

( A soft chuckle leaves him, and he pauses in his petting of the cat in his lap to let the feline move, watching it fondly as it stretches before moving to lean its head against his chest. Only when it settles does he start to pet it again.

He nods at the question, letting out a soft, short sound of amusement. )

We have a theater, yes. Though I admit, my people often prioritize battle and magic over the arts. I have never been to an opera myself, but my father told me great things of the ones he'd been to.

[backstreetbard]

[ When Dimitri admits to having never been to even one opera, Dorothea grabs ahold of his arm as if that action could fully impart to him the seriousness of the subject. Both cats jump a little in surprise, but neither of them is disturbed enough to actually vacate the laps that they've decided to occupy. ]

Dima! The opera is the culmination of the finest aspects of our culture! Music and performance, intricate costumes and stage magic, even beautifully choreographed fighting. You simply must attend one. In fact, I and a few of the others from the choir are putting together a performance, and I expect you to be there. I insist! It would be a wonderful learning experience for you.

[cutthrough]

( Between the grip on his arm and the startled cats in his lap, Dimitri jumps just the slightest as well in his surprise. But he settles quickly, blinking owlishly as he looks between her grip on his arm and her face.

Her words bring a soft laugh from his lips, and he manages a nod as one hand lifts to place his gloved one over hers on his arm. )

I would be honored to watch you perform, Dorothea.

[backstreetbard]

[ Dorothea's eyes flit briefly to the hand now resting over hers, then back to Dimitri's face, and she smiles at him, apparently appeased. ]

Good. I'll present you an invitation as soon as they're written, and one for Dedue as well. He's almost always with you, after all, and it'd be rude to exclude him.

[ She seems to have more to say on the matter, but a bell begins to ring from a nearby tower. Both cats hop up and head off to tend to their own business, and Dorothea laughs as the bell continues to count the sixth hour. ]

Sounds like it's dinner time, then. Shall we?

[ Without waiting for him to stand and offer his hand (as a prince might be wont to do), Dorothea rolls to her feet and discreetly dusts off the seat of her skirt, then stretches as she starts down the stairs. ]

[cutthrough]

( The sight of Dorothea as she stands and stretches is one Dimitri replays to himself over and over. The flash of those thighs, the outline of the curve of her hips and waist.. It causes a strange heat to simmer under his skin that he can't quite explain.

After their conversation, Dimitri finds himself keenly aware of Dorothea. He feels as if they run into one another more often outside of class, occasionally paired for the professor's tasks around the monastery, and even spending time together working with the orphans. It's the latter that endears him the most to her, seeing how compassionate and considerate she truly is. It's a sharp contrast to the nobility he often interacts with, and the ease in which she treats him and others is comfortable and pleasant. And the meals they share... it's become more and more difficult to keep her out of her thoughts.

Dimitri doesn't find any relief from the constant thoughts in his sleep, either. When he does manage to sleep, his dreams are wild and vivid. When they aren't scenes of terror or violence, they're of Dorothea. Heated, passionate displays between the two of them that have him waking uncomfortably hard or wet and sticky. It makes facing her difficult, and he often finds himself turning away, face flushed, whenever they speak.

He tries to tell himself it will be fine, and hopefully the dreams will stop and things will be... less awkward.

It will be fine. It's something he tells himself over and over again as he makes his way to the sauna. He changes quickly before making his way inside, but he pauses at the sight of her. His skin already feels warm from the sauna, but the sight of her just makes color rush to his cheeks. ) Hello Dorothea. ( It's all he can manage, and his voice sounds a little tight when he says it. ) May I join you?

( After he asks, he realizes it might just be a bad idea. )

[backstreetbard]

[ Dorothea really doesn't think anything of the fact that Dimitri is red as a tomato practically the moment he walks into the sauna. He's from Faerghus, which is as chilly as can be, so it makes sense that the heat of the steam room would affect him. Meanwhile, she enjoys the heat, coming from the hot and humid coastal region of Adrestia. It's especially nice after a day of training--Byleth drives them hard to make sure they're prepared for their missions, and today was no exception.

When Dimitri approaches her, Dorothea smiles and waves to the vacant space next to her. ]

Of course. The temperature is perfect right now, if you ask me.

[cutthrough]

( His gaze follow her hand as she waves to the spot next to her, and Dimitri spares himself a thought that he should leave now. But he's certain it would be suspicious and perhaps even hurtful to leave so abruptly. Instead, he swallows as he nods and steps further into the sauna.

It's a difficult task to keep his gaze from wandering, and the spot they've landed is hardly helpful to his already rising temperature. His eyes linger on her neck, and as desperately as he tries to stop himself from letting his thoughts wander, all he can think about is the dreams he's had of the two of them, of putting his lips on her neck. Kissing and sucking at her skin in a way that has her squirming on his c-

He sits down a bit heavier than he'd intended to, trying to redirect his thoughts quickly, gaze turning away from her. )

It is a bit warmer than I would like, but it isn't terrible.

( Temperature is a safe topic, right? )

[backstreetbard]

That's not surprising. Do Faerghans really cut holes in frozen lakes to swim in the ice water? I heard people talk about that in Enbarr but haven't found out if it's actually true or not.

[ This is Dorothea doing her best to act casually. She's noticed a shift in the way Dimitri has behaved around her in the last few weeks. She wants so badly to believe that it's possible for a boy like him to be interested in a girl like her, but she doesn't want to risk her feelings if she's misreading things. He's a literal prince, after all, and what is she compared to that? It's no wonder his friends think she's a temptress and a gold digger.

She sighs deeply, pulling her hair away from her face and neck where it's sticking in fine, curling tendrils to her balmy skin. If she looks like a figure from his wildest dreams, it's not intentional. ]

It doesn't get cold enough in Enbarr for the rivers to freeze. We're right by the ocean so all the southern wind keeps us a little warm, even in the winter.

[cutthrough]

( More than anything, Dimitri wishes he had the nerve to tell her what he feels, why he's been acting strangely around her. But he worries she'll be unhappy with him, that it will ruin whatever it is they share. So he tries his best to act normally, even if he's more than aware of how badly he seems to do so.

But her question is a good distraction from his own thoughts, from the temptation to rake his eyes over her body. Instead, he manages a soft, short laugh, looking down at his own lap for a moment. )

Perhaps you can come to Faerghus and find out for yourself.

( It's difficult not to look at her, and he finds himself looking over in time to see the way she moves her hair. His attention fixes on the way her hair clings to her skin, the faint flush of she has. It reminds him of the wild dreams he has often, vivid memories of dreams where she's laid out beneath him, breathless and skin glistening. It's enough that he starts to feel a familiar buzz under his skin, and he looks down once more. )

That's quite different from our winters. We don't feel a warm breeze for months once the winter season arrives.

[backstreetbard]

Denied the truth yet again! [ She laughs and shakes her head. ] I suppose I really will have to come to Faerghus to find out. I expect you to show me around. [ There's barely even a pause here. Dorothea, so used to flirting with her classmates, says: ] And maybe you can show me what it is that the Faerghans do to keep warm during those frigid winters.

[ She falls quiet after that, her face flushing an even deeper red when she realizes just how salacious that sounds. Quickly, say something! ]

I'm sure furs must be very popular in the fashion of the kingdom.

[cutthrough]

I would be honored to have you visit.

( The response comes easily. The idea of bringing her back to his home, being able to show her around, to lavish her in gifts from his home. It's a thought that spirals quickly into something else at her words.

Instead, all he can think of is what it would be like to have her spread out on the furs on his bed, bare and waiting for him. That's hardly what she means, he knows, but it's still enough that he feels his cock starting to rise quickly, already beginning to strain against his pants. His heart quickens in his chest, and he leans forward slightly, trying to cover his lap with his arms. )

I would be h-honored.. ( Dimitri starts, brows furrowing as he stumbles over his words. He wants to be honest, to say he'd gladly keep her warm in anyway she asked. But bringing himself to say such things out loud is harder than he thought. And instead of finishing, all he can bring himself to do is swallow, trying to clear the sudden lump in his throat. )

[backstreetbard]

[ Sensing him falter, Dorothea glances over at Dimitri to find him hunched over, looking uncomfortable. ]

Dima, are you all right? [ Reaching over, she presses her hand to his forehead. ] Oh, goodness, you're burning up.

[ Dorothea isn't naïve, of course; she understands men and their desires very well after her time with the opera. She might even chalk Dimitri's discomfort to arousal if she thought he was interested in her, or if they weren't in the sauna.

The moment is made worse by the arrival of Sylvain and Felix, the latter frowning and the former grinning like a cat when he spots them.

"You okay there, your highness?" Sylvain asks, plopping down opposite from Dorothea at Dimitri's side while Felix finds a spot in the corner to sulk in. ]

[cutthrough]

( The way she touches his forehead has Dimitri lifting her head, blue eyes lifting to her face. He swallows hard, trying to bring himself to speak. He thinks he can finally say what he wants to, and he takes a deep breath. )

Yes, I- ( The words are cut off abruptly as soon as he hears Sylvain and Felix enter, and he sighs. He manages a small smile, trying to reassure her as he reaches up to gently grab her hand. He squeezes it briefly before lowering it, adjusting himself where he sits to try and hide the tent in his pants. )

I am fine, Sylvain. I think it may just be too warm today.

( He doesn't let go of her hand, even as he speaks. )

[backstreetbard]

[ The fact that he doesn't relinquish her hand makes Dorothea's heart flutter. That's more than a friendly gesture, especially if he's willing to do it in front of Sylvain and Felix. Even so, she feels like it's up to her to spare him from having to deal with his friends questioning him unnecessarily.

Giving his hand a squeeze, she slips hers free and stands with a soft laugh. ]

If it's too warm, then go have a dip in some cool water. Enduring the heat if it's overwhelming doesn't make you look tough. [ That's his cue to make his escape. Hopefully he'll realize this is his opportunity. ] I think I've had about enough, too. I'll probably go have a little nap before dinner.

[ Dorothea makes her own escape then, not particularly eager to endure the company of Felix or Sylvain in any combination. The moment she's gone, though, Sylvain turns his grin on Dimitri.

"So, you hold hands with girls now?" he asks. ]

[cutthrough]

( The blue eyes watch as Dorothea stands, returning the squeeze before she slips her hand free. He can't stop himself from holding on just a bit longer than he should, their fingers dragging along one another's in an attempt for him to keep that bit of contact. )

Some cold water would be nice. ( He agrees, expression falling slightly as she makes her exit. )

Sleep well, Dorothea.

( She disappears and Dimitri is distantly aware of Sylvain speaking, but he doesn't respond until Felix makes a comment about not ignoring them. He's flustered when he responds, quickly dismissing himself to take a moment to dip into cold water to cool his skin and try and clear his mind. And to scold himself for thinking so perversely.

He cleans himself up before heading back to his room, spending some time there as he waits for dinner. There's a thought to head straight there, but he can't stop himself from taking a detour towards her room. He stands quietly outside the door for a long moment before he takes a breath and lifts his hand to knock. )

Dorothea?

[backstreetbard]

[ Dorothea answers the door in her uniform, minus her hat, her jacket, and her boots. Her bare shoulders are, perhaps, more tantalizing than she realizes, dark curls fanned out over them and trailing down her chest. There's a slight rumpled look to her, as if she really had been napping. ]

Oh, Dima! Were you able to get away from Sylvain and Felix without too much trouble? I hope it didn't seem like I was abandoning you to the wolves--that certainly wasn't my intent.

[ She reaches out to take his hand and give it a squeeze, not unlike how their hands had been joined in the sauna, and the loveliest shade of rose blooms on the apples of her cheeks. Plucking up her courage, she squeezes his hand even tighter. ]

Hey, can I tell you something? [ She asks, but she doesn't actually wait for an answer, afraid she might lose her nerve. ] I'm glad that we've become friends. You're the sweetest boy I've ever met, and I hope we can always be friends.

[ Dorothea's blush turns an even deeper red, and she averts her eyes. She's about to make a fool of herself. ]

But I... I like you as more than just a friend. I know it's silly, and I hope it doesn't change the way you feel about me. I'm sure at least a dozen different girls at this school alone are head-over-heels for you, and all of them have more that they could offer you in the long-run than I do. I just... I had to tell you before I lost my nerve. I hope that's all right.

[cutthrough]

( It hadn't occurred to him that she might open the door and be in anything less than the usual state of dress he sees her in normally. But there she is, shoulders bare, hair falling down her shoulders and chest. It takes everything he has not to let his eyes wander, and maybe she sees the way his throat bob as he swallows. He will be polite. He will be a proper and princely companion.

The way she reaches out for his hand, though, is a welcome distraction. His eyes drop to their hands, and he carefully winds his hand around hers. There's always that worry that he'll hurt her with his strength. So he's careful in the way he holds her hand, lifts his other hand to cradle hers between his own. It isn't nearly the same as holding her hand without his gloves, but being able to do so at all is a gift in and of itself. )

No, they had their comments, but I was able to leave without any resistance. It was for the best you left when you did.

( He knows how they can be at times, particularly to Dorothea.

He's prepared to tell her she can tell him anything, but before he can, she's already continuing to speak.

He blinks curiously as he sees the color darken on her cheeks and the way she averts her eyes. He can feel worry building in his chest. A part of him wonders if this will the moment she tells him she's found someone, that she has feelings for another and their friendship has to change. )

Dorothea-

( But what comes is a surprise. To be told she has feelings for him is certainly the last thing he expected, and there's no denying the color that rises to his cheek. He struggles to find words, and nothing seems right. Nothing is appropriate, can convey what he feels. And after a few, long seconds, he finally reaches up, curving one hand against the back of her neck. He leans in quickly, pressing their lips together as he squeezes her hand in his own. It might be too hard, he can't tell with how his heart is hammering against his chest. )

[backstreetbard]

[ The brief span of seconds where Dimitri struggles to find his words feels like an eternity. He's going to reject her, to tell her he enjoys her company but doesn't feel that way about her. The rejection will hurt, but she'll just--

He kisses her, and every thought racing through her mind comes screeching to a halt. He's kissing her, right there in front of her dorm room door. Literally anyone could see them there, but her response isn't to push him away or tell him to stop. No, she actually stands on her toes and leans in to wrap her arm around him. Her lips part of their own accord to deepen the kiss, but she pulls back before things can get too out of hand. ]

Someone might see us.

[ Dorothea's face is bright red--even her chest is starting to flush pink. Her eyes dart around the courtyard and she licks her lips, then yankd him into her room and closes the door behind him. ]

[cutthrough]

( It doesn't occur to him that they are out in the open, that anyone could come along and see them like this. All Dimitri can focus on is their mouths together, the way she wraps her arms around him. He is quick to do the same, holding her close as he returns the kiss.

And then she's pulling back and it takes a few seconds for him to understand what she's saying. All he can focus on is the color on her cheeks, the flush on her chest. There's no resistance as he's tugged into the room, and once the door closes behind them, Dimitri's hands move, curving under the back of her thighs to lift her so he can kiss her properly once more. )

[backstreetbard]

[ Dorothea isn't expecting to be lifted like that, but one moment she's standing on the cool stone floor of her room and the next moment she's up against his chest, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. Dimitri holds her like she weighs nothing, and her heart races as she leans in to kiss him again.

The whole room smells like her perfume, and the delicate feminine scent of her skin below that. Her tongue slips into his mouth, tasting, testing, feeling out the shape of him. She can hardly believe he wants her, too. It feels like she's dreaming. ]

[cutthrough]

( The scent of her, the weight of her pressed this close in his arms, the way she kisses him... It all feels like a dream. A dream that feels too good to be true, yet he's awake.

The last thing he wants is for this moment to end. He's far less experienced in this regard, but he tries to follow her lead. His lips part for her, his own tongue sliding against it, feeling her, tasting her for the first time. It's enough to draw a soft, eager moan from his throat, and he finds his hands gripping tighter at her thighs. )

[backstreetbard]

[ Dorothea kisses him thoroughly, combing her fingers into his hair. The way he squeezes her tight sends a thrill up her spine, and she answers his moan with a breathy sigh. She almost begins to kiss her way across his cheek to the corner of his jaw and down his throat, but the voice of reason in the back of her mind urges her to rein this in. It feels much too good, and she doesn't want them to do something they might regret later.

Pulling back and taking a deep breath, Dorothea fans herself, as if such a trifling breeze could hope to cool her off. ]

We should slow down, or it'll be hard to stop. Not that I don't want more, but...

[cutthrough]

( There's no thought to stop. Instead, all there is is a need to continue, to pull her close and indulge in something he'd never given much thought to.

But when she pulls back, he finds himself dragging in a breath of his own. He manages a few slow nods, eyes closing. )

I apologize. I... ( He takes another breath, gaze lifting to her face, his own cheeks flushed. ) I could not stop myself.

[backstreetbard]

It's all right, really. I got a little carried away, too. It just... feels nice. It's nice to find out I'm not completely hopeless.

[ Not that whatever this thing between them is couldn't be considered completely hopeless. Famous as she'd been in Enbarr, she was still practically a peasant, especially compared to a legitimate prince. They'd never be allowed to be together.

No, don't think like that. Not yet.

She kisses him once more and then untangles herself from him until he sets her back on the floor. ]

Well... what comes next? People will talk, you know. They'll say all sorts of things about both of us.

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( Dimitri can't help but chase her lips with that last kiss, but he abandons it quickly. He holds onto her and only removes his hands when she's on her feet, letting them drop to his side instead of touching any further.

Cheeks still pink, he takes a breath, trying to calm himself as well. )

I would like to court you properly, if you'll allow it.

( But the blue eyes do cut away briefly, thinking over her words. Of course people are going to talk. Many will object... But for her, he tells himself, none of that will matter. )

Let them talk.

[backstreetbard]

[ Dorothea's spine straightens in surprise, her eyes going wide. ]

C-court me? You want to court me? As in... the precursor to marriage?

[ Dorothea wobbles slightly on her feet, so shocked by his proclamation, by his willingness to ignore the rumors that will come from this. How is it possible that he likes her that much? It almost feels wrong on some level. ]

Dima, I'm... I'm nobody special. There's no way I'd ever be accepted by the nobility in Faerghus. As much as I want to say yes, as beautiful of a dream as that is... I'm afraid I'd be more trouble for you than I'm worth.

[ She's at war within herself, wanting more than anything to be loved and accepted by someone as kind and handsome as him, but not wanting to be the cause of suffering for him in the future. ]

[backstreetbard]

[ This isn’t the first time they’ve traveled to Faerghus for a mission—it isn’t even the first time they’ve had to travel to Faerghus to kill a family member of one of the Blue Lions. This time it’s Sylvain’s brother, Miklan, whose head is on the proverbial chopping screen block, so the mood of the class as they travel deeper into Kingdom territory is understandably grim.

The morning is spent setting up their encampment. Dimitri is kind enough to sort out Dorothea’s tent for her; students save the house leader have been paired off into tents, but she happens to be the odd woman out and she’s no good at this sort of thing.

The afternoon is… worse. Conand is a bloody and frankly horrifying affair, and even with Professor Byleth and a Knight of Seiros to assist, there are injuries aplenty. Some are more glancing than others, but Dorothea is taken out of the fight when a brigand’s knife finds its way between two of her ribs. She’s lucky that Mercedes is the most talented healer in their year, or… well, she doesn’t even want to think about the “or” there. Dorothea’s been on death’s very doorstep before—she knows how it feels. She’s lucky; that’s all that matters.

The whole class feels beaten down as they make their way back to the encampment for the evening. For once, Dorothea is glad the to have a tent to herself, lying out on her bedroll after slipping out of her boots and her jacket. A silhouette at her tent flap catches her attention before she can relax too much, though. ]

I can see you standing there. You can come in, I’m decent.

[cutthrough]

( The situation is less than ideal. The last thing Dimitri wants to do as the future king is cut down familiar faces and family of people he holds dear. But he steels himself against it and gives into that quiet thirst for violence that he hides so well behind the polite smiles.

But the success of their mission is outshined by the fear he feels knowing Dorothea, the woman he loves, is hurt. Witnessing such a thing sends him into something of a blind rage that had cleared the path between them and let Mercedes and the others tend to her. And he rides that anger through the rest of the battle. Something that turns to fear and worry when all is said and done.

He should be relieved to know she is safe, that she's been snatched away from death's door, but he can't calm his worry. It's why he lingers outside her tent now, restless as he fidgets in place. Every part of him wants to be close, to hold her in his arms and ensure no further harm comes to her, but it would be rude to rush in uninvited.

So when that invite does come, he is moving quickly, ducking under the flap to slide inside. The worry is clear as day on his expression, and he wastes no time crossing the distance to her. He kneels beside her bedroll, hesitating before reaching out to touch the back of one of her hands. )

Can I get you anything?

[backstreetbard]

Dima…

[ As rough as the day has been, Dorothea can’t help but feel her spirits lift a little when he comes in and kneels beside her. Is that the power that this love holds over her, that seeing his worried face is enough to make her feel better? How strange. How wonderful. ]

I’m fine, really. I don’t need anything—Mercie healed me all up, see?

[ And to prove her point, she sits up and lifts the hem of her shirt to show him the site of her injury. The skin around the puncture is still red and inflamed, but the wound itself is closed. In time, it will become a scar, like any number of others that mar her skin. ]

She said anything beyond this needs to heal naturally. Magic is useful but it isn’t a cure-all.

[ Groaning softly, she lies back down and closes her eyes, taking hold of his hand. ]

I know you shouldn’t, but… stay with me a little while?

[cutthrough]

( There's a flash of worry to see her move, but it lessens as she lifts her shirt to show that the worst of the wound is truly gone. It's enough that the tension in his shoulders drops noticeably, and he breathes out a soft sigh of relief. He can't stop the way his fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and touch that red mark, but he catches himself. Even while she's injured, Dimitri can't help but feel drawn to her with a need to touch and be close. )

I'm glad. Though I find mysf wishing not for the first time that magic could truly cure-all. ( He doesn't mind his own scars, but they don't belong on that beautiful skin of hers. ) I will ensure you have plenty of time to rest on our way back.

( His hand curls around hers as she reaches for him, and he frowns to hear the groan. The nod that comes after her question is immediate. ) As long as you like.

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[ She smiles, bringing his hand to her lips and pressing a kiss to his fingers. ]

I want you to stay forever. I’ve… well, I’ve been thinking about it, you know? About your request. Today when I was wounded, I wasn’t even thinking about myself—I was thinking about you. About the face you’d make when I said… I accept. If you still want me, that is.

[cutthrough]

( The kiss to his fingers is met with a soft, find smile, and he twists his hands to hold her hand properly.

He's prepared to ask what she means but the words catch on his tongue, cheeks coloring faintly and something fluttering excitedly in his chest.

It takes everything he has not to surge forward quickly to take her into his arms. Instead, just barely, he manages to slowly lean in, pressing their lips softly together as his heart hammers against his chest in delight. ) I want to be with you forever.

[backstreetbard]

[ Her smile is almost sheepish, still amazed that a man like this would actually want to pursue her. ]

All the nobles in Faerghus just felt an unnatural chill right now, I'm sure. They aren't going to like this, but... I want to be with you, no matter what obstacles we'll face. Now, come and let me rest my head on your shoulder?