a lion among ladies

[backstreetbard]

[ Dorothea doesn't exactly love spending time in the cathedral of Garreg Mach's campus, as stunning as the stained glass windows and flying buttresses are to behold. She hasn't put stock in the Seirosi faith since she was six years old.

In spite of that, she can still be seen there often in the days following the mission to quell the Western Church's rebellion in Gaspard territory, her hand rubbing circles in Ashe's back. She understands what it feels like to lose a parent, though she doesn't speak of it; instead, she only listens as he very gradually works his way through the shock and pain. Sometimes the only comfort is commiseration.

It's draining, though. She has to step back eventually, to try and shake off the old familiar feelings that watching another orphan in mourning dredges up in her.

Standing on the bridge that leads to the cathedral, she inhales the fresh mountain air and releases a sigh as she looks out over the scenery. A flash of blue in her peripheral vision catches her attention, though, and she's back on stage, turning to face her new house leader. ]

On your way to pray?

Comments

[backstreetbard]

[ Dorothea sighs sweetly in response to his touch. ] Feels nice.

[ To encourage him, she grips him more firmly, stroking faster. She could reach down into his trousers--that wouldn't technically be breaking the "clothes on" rule, would it? But she refrains for now, shifting a little so she's kneeling over him. ]

There's, ah... another place you can touch me that feels wonderful.

[ Taking one of the hands at her chest, she moves it down to the apex of her thighs, gently adjusting his wrist so that his fingers slide over her pubic mound. Her undergarments are unmistakably damp, and she has to take a steadying breath. ]

Can you feel... here, where the folds part. There's a l-little nub. Just rub it gently.

[hauntedking]

Is there...?

[ He's not ignorant. He knows how it's supposed to work. But having real, first hand experience is leaving him a bit stunned. It's all happening very fast. Not that he minds (much). He allows her to guide his hand, the other still massaging and pinching at a breast - but he can feel the heat of her through her clothing now. He can feel the dampness just beyond the barrier. And he swears he's going to burst. ]

I - I think so-

[ He murmurs in reply and leans up (in) to press a kiss against her throat as his fingers begin to explore, slow and gentle and tentative. ]

[backstreetbard]

[ Dorothea is warm and pliant in Dimitri's hands, shivering and rewarding him for his touches with breathy, needy little noises so soft that only he will hear them. The barriers of fabric between their bodies are limiting, but it keeps them from taking things too far.

She can't keep her hips from rocking against his hand, though. It's only natural that their bodies want to move together, and his lips on her neck feel like a fire brand burning little marks on her skin as proof he was there, he kissed her and loved her there.

Languid heat pools in her limbs, and it occurs to her that this touching is so much more intimate to her than the times in the past when she'd actually slept with a few of the younger tenors or stagehands that had pursued her when she was with the Mittelfrank. None of them ever made her feel like this, so she slows her movements to try and savor their touches even more. ]

[hauntedking]

[ The noises she makes are wonderful; they entice him. Make him want to do more, to hear her make those again. He noses into the hollow of her throat, fingers pressing with a little more pressure. His fingers circle and slide and press, feeling the shape of her through the thin cloth. The wetness of her is just there and his mind wanders and he wonders, with a touch of guilt, how it would feel to slide fingers inside of her. How it might feel to be on top of her, their limbs tangled together, his cock buried inside of her-

He shudders with a low groan as the fantasy overwhelms him and he can feel white hot pleasure pulse through him. His hips hitch against her and he can feel his release against his own underwear, his face burning. ]

Oh - oh-! Dorothea-!

[backstreetbard]

Dima!

[ She isn't far behind him, the work of his fingers bringing her to her climax just after his. Dorothea sighs as she slumps down against him, basking in the afterglow. It takes a few moments for her to catch her breath--time that she spends peppering Dimitri's face with kisses. ]

Dima, I love you so much. That was lovely, wasn't it? And one day... we won't need to hold back. I'll wait for you as long as it takes.

[hauntedking]

[ He feels dizzy. Flushed. Far too heated. Perhaps a touch ashamed. But also incredibly good. He stammers for a moment and then manages to master himself, dragging her close, arms wrapped around her as he noses in against her hair with a deep exhale. ]

I - I'm glad. And so will I. You needn't worry about that. I want this - I want us - to work. To have a future.

[backstreetbard]

I want that, too. More than I can say. Being with you makes me happy.

[ Dorothea's skin buzzes with lingering pleasure subsides to make way for a dreamy sort of drowsiness. Dimitri's arms are warm and strong around her, and she feels like she could stay this way forever.

... But, the dinner bell will ring soon, and neither of them can appear at the dining hall as rumpled as they surely look now. She gives them both a moment to enjoy the peace before she sits up again. ]

We'd both best freshen up before dinner. I'd prefer to just stay here with you, of course, but we shouldn't miss a meal.

[hauntedking]

Ah - you're right, of course.

[ As much as he too would like to linger and just cuddle and doze, they're both expected and surely someone will notice if they're both missing. He leans over to give her a soft little kiss. ]

But I'll see you at dinner. And tomorrow.

[backstreetbard]

Until then.

[ Running her fingers through her hair, Dorothea puts her cap back on and slips out of Dimitri's room. Nothing to see here.

It's difficult to stop thinking about their tryst after the fact, however. Every time they're even in the same room she can't help picturing the way his face looked when they'd touched one another. The world isn't willing to stand still for two teenagers in love, though--the day of the Rite of Rebirth is enough to remind them of that. Witnessing Byleth wield the Sword of the Creator is as awe-inspiring as it is terrifying.

All in all, they're lucky that no one was badly hurt in the battle--that the figure in black armor chose not to engage them. Dorothea has a sinking suspicion that he's just as strong as he looks, and absolutely no desire to find out firsthand.

Before the Lions even have time to recover fully from the previous moon, a new mission is handed down to them: kill Miklan Gautier and his band of thieves. She knows nothing of him outside of what she's heard from her classmates; he's a brute, from all accounts, passed over in favor of his younger brother because Sylvain was lucky enough to have a crest where Miklan did not. She can't imagine how Sylvain must be feeling, since he's acting as flippant as ever. Any attempt to comfort him would be a waste, as he's been telling people he'll be relieved to get it done--that he can't wait to see the look on his brother's face when he realizes who's been sent to kill him. It's an ugly situation, but it isn't something Dorothea needs to worry about until the end of the month.

Or that's the plan, anyway.

She's tired by the time the sun begins to sink. They're a few weeks into the Verdant Rain Moon, and the humidity makes the air heavy even in the mountains where Garreg Mach is nestled. The dinner bell will be ringing soon, and she's eager to freshen up before mealtime. She isn't expecting to see Sylvain again until the dining hall, so it's a surprise when he rounds a corner ahead of her and moves to block her path.

"Hey princess. You look like you're in a hurry--what's the rush? Why don't we have dinner together tonight? I'm sure his Highness wouldn't mind."

The tone of his voice has her immediately on edge, but she doesn't let her posture betray her feeling. ]

I really don't have time, Sylvain.

[ She begins to excuse herself but he's in her way again, looking down at her with an expression she's seen before on the faces of too many noblemen to count. He wants something from her. They all want something from her.

"Are you sure? Because I'm pretty sure you're going to want to hear what I have to say. See, a little bird told me about how you managed to get into Garreg Mach in the first place."

That catches her attention, as does the threatening edge in his voice. Sylvain has been visibly moody for days now, but she'd assumed it was because of their mission. Was it because he'd been working to dig up dirt on her? How much does he know? Dorothea crosses her arms and tosses her hair, exuding a false sense of confidence. ]

I passed the entrance exam, just like everyone else here.

[ Sylvain shakes his head, draping an arm around her shoulders and urging her forward.

"Tuition here isn't cheap, though. Walk with me."

By the time he's finished talking, Dorothea is practically shaking with anger, blinking back the tears that want so badly to well up in her eyes. The sun is beginning to set, casting long shadows across the campus, and she can feel Sylvain's arm tighten around her when Dimitri comes into view, obviously looking for something or someone. ]

[hauntedking]

[ There's too much happening for them to gather more than a few moments together once things begin to happen. He still tries, though, because spending time with her makes him happy (it makes her happy) and it helps him keep his mind off of his own pain and the voices that whisper in the back of his head. Instead he throws himself into trying to lead the Blue Lions, into discussions with the Professor, into trying to help Sylvain - Sylvain, who seems ot care little for his brother.

Dimitri knows him too well to not know that he's masking something. Sylvain always deflects.

He'd been expecting to see Dorothea a little this evening, but Sylvain has asked to talk to him about "something important". Maybe it's about his brother - so of course Dimitri goes to see him. How could he not see his friend? Then he spots him - and Dorothea with him. He pauses, expression confused, and then as he draws closer he can see the tears starting to well in her eyes. She's upset, in a way he's never seen before and immediately he's on alert. ]

Sylvain - Dorothea - what's going on? Are you alright-?

[backstreetbard]

[ Dorothea falters at Dimitri's question, uncharacteristically at a loss for words, but she quickly recovers and shakes her head. ]

It... it's fine, Dima.

[ But it clearly isn't fine. Dorothea, the seasoned actress, seems out of sorts, while Sylvain is entirely casual. She smiles, but it's forced, her heart not in it. Sylvain's smile has an air of smugness to it, for reasons that haven't yet become obvious. It's an unsettling tableau.

"We were just on our way to the dining hall to share a bite. You should join us, your highness. It's good to get to know your classmates, don't you think? I noticed you and Dorothea getting awful chummy so I figured I'd get better acquainted with her, myself."

Dorothea pulls away from Sylvain's grasp but doesn't immediately go to Dimitri's side, instead opting to stand a few feet off from both of them, out of reach. Sylvain breezes on by like there's nothing to see here, and she's completely lost her appetite but she can't stand the thought of what Sylvain might say to Dimitri if they go to dinner without her.

But... this is Dimitri. This isn't the first day of class, either--he knows her. He loves her. At least, that's what he said. She believes him, but would he still want he if he heard Sylvain's story? Would he still want her if he knew the truth?

Now is as good a time as any to find out. ]

Actually, Dima... it isn't fine.

[ Sylvain actually looks surprised, not expecting for her to resist him this quickly. ]

Sylvain is trying to blackmail me. [ And the young man in question certainly does go tense the moment she says it. ]He wants me to break it off with you, or he means to tell you something horrible about me. He might tell you anyway, I don't know. There's so much I haven't told you about my past--things I never wanted to have to tell you, or anyone else--but I trust you. I trust that your feelings won't change, even if... my past is ugly?

[hauntedking]

[ Dimitri can sense something is off, but at first he's not sure what. Did Sylvain say or do something? Is she ill? He doesn't quite know and so he lingers for a moment, hesitating. ]

Well - of course. She's wonderful to talk to, but-

[ He takes a step toward her, brow knit with concern. And then Dorothea spills it all out and his expression ranges from shock to hurt to anger in the span of a few moments. ]

Sylvain - is this true? Please - tell me this is some sort of misunderstanding, because the last thing I want is one of my closest friends deciding that he knows better than I about my romantic life. Or that he thinks it's appropriate to blackmail the woman I care so deeply about.

[ There's hurt and anger in his voice now. ]

My feelings for her aren't about to change. Whatever you think you know you'd better say and we'll have out with it. I can assure you - nothing you say is going to change my feelings for her. [ He steps up alongside Dorothea and settles a hand on her shoulder and squeezes. ]

[backstreetbard]

[ To his rather dubious credit, Sylvain doesn't panic. He's smart enough to have accounted for her being willing to risk her secret being exposed.

"Your feelings? What about her feelings? She's an actress, Dimitri. Everyone knows that she came here to find a rich husband to take care of her so she doesn't have to work anymore--she's said as much herself, and now she's got you wrapped around her little finger. Are you going to make her queen of Faerghus? Would she have any idea how to handle a responsibility like that?"

He shakes his head, posture still deceptively casual.

"But since you asked, fine. How do you think a girl like her was able to afford to come here? There are commoners here whose entire villages had to contribute so they could cover the tuition, but not Dorothea. She got herself a sponsor--an Adrestian nobleman old enough to be her father--" ]

He is my father, you boor.

[ Dorothea's voice when she cuts him off isn't her usual, bubbly tone, but a low, angry hiss. She's pressed up against Dimitri's side, her hand balled into a fist in the fabric of his cape to stop her shaking. ]

You think you're so smart, digging into my past like that, but you have no idea of who I am or what I've been through. What did you think? That'd I slept with him so he'd pay my way here? No. He's paying me to buy my silence--so I never darken his door again, or spread nasty rumors about him in his fancy highborn social circles--and it's the least of what he owes me after he threw me and my mother out onto the streets like so much garbage when I was born without a crest.

Please, though, go ahead and call me a whore like you planned. Tell the man I love that I don't deserve to be with someone like him, but the truth is that I have just as much noble blood as half the students here. I just wasn't lucky enough for it to manifest in a way that made me valuable.

[ Sylvain looks... not contrite, exactly, but this is obviously a twist he hadn't anticipated--a miscalculation he'll have to correct for. Dorothea can't look at him anymore, either way, and even standing next to Dimitri after laying out the truth of her heritage leaves her burning with years of accumulated shame and and grief. She turns without waiting for comment or rebuttal, wordlessly excusing herself and making a retreat as quickly as possible without running outright. ]

[hauntedking]

[ Dimitri starts to bristle as Sylvain speaks; he knows that Dorothea comes from a non-noble family, but that's never bothered him. No, it's the insinuation that she must have done something unsavory. That she doesn't deserve to be here like the rest of them that makes his blood run hot. His hands start to clench into fists-

And then Dorothea cuts in and takes the wind out of Sylvain's sails. They're both left a bit stunned and then - then she moves on. She leaves. He'd like to go after her, but dealing with Sylvain feels a touch more important. There are so many emotions swirling around in his head. Anger, disbelief, embarrassment. He wanted Dorothea to feel at home with his friends. To know that he trusted them with his life and that she could do the same. And then Sylvain did this?

It floors him. ]

Sylvain.

[ His teeth are gritted, voice reflecting the anger that he barely keeps in check. ]

What are you thinking? What are you doing? You've hurt her and hurt her badly - more than that, you've wounded me as well! I can handle my own romantic affairs and I certainly don't need you trying to - what? Warn me off or something? I'm ashamed of you Sylvain. You will apologize to her. This is - I cannot believe you've done this-

[backstreetbard]

[ Sylvain's known Dimitri long enough to know that he's walking on some very thin ice right now. It's actually impressive how quickly that plan blew up in his face--he'd obviously miscalculated the depth or the sincerity of their feelings, or Dorothea's ability to cry on command and spin a compelling story. Maybe both. Either way, it's obvious that she has the prince wrapped around her fingers, and questioning her has hurt Dimitri's own pride as well.

He curses internally.

Holding up his hands as a show of surrender, he makes a face he hopes is sufficiently contrite.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I messed up. I get it, and I'll apologize to her, I promise."

He doesn't test his luck further by sticking around, instead making a hasty retreat with more promises to rectify his misbehavior. He has a feeling it's going to take more than the promise of an apology to accomplish it.

The next time Dimitri finds her, Dorothea is huddled on the steps of a disused stairway in a corner of the monastery where the stray animals liked to congregate. A sterling-gray cat is curled up on her lap, its long tail swishing slowly. Her eyes are noticeably red, her face damp. She's been crying, and she doesn't even attempt to wipe the tear tracks from her cheeks when he approaches her.

She does draw a quick, shuddering breath when she sees him, and she stands with the cat still in her arms. ]

Don't leave me. Dima, please.

[ She looks like she's going to cry again, and shame is writ plainly on her face. Clearly, she's had more than enough time to think herself into a frenzy of worry. ]

I know I'm a cast-off bastard. I know I don't deserve you. I know it's pathetic to beg like this, but I love you so much. Just... please don't leave me behind.

[hauntedking]

[ Dimitri wants to give Sylvain more of a talking to, but - well. He's worried about Dorothea, even if he's still steaming mad. He allows Sylvain to leave, with a mental promise to find him and pick him apart over it later. He's used to Sylvain being rough around the edges, but this? This felt as if it was going too far. Then he goes in search of Dorothea and when he finally finds her, he's a little relieve to find that she has some friendly company in the form of a cat. ]

Dorothea...

[ He comes down the steps and settles down next to her, wrapping an arm around her without hesitation and holding her close. ]

I'm not going to leave you. I promise. I don't care about any of it. You're you and I love you more than I can say.

[ He swallows. ]

...that was cruel of him. Unnecessary. I'm going to make sure this never happens again, you have my word-

[backstreetbard]

[ She cuts him off with a kiss, tipping his face down with a cupped hand to press her lips to his. It's sweet but it's hungry--the kiss of an unloved girl desperate to hold on to the best thing she's ever found.]

I don't care about Sylvain. He can say what he wants about me; everyone else does. I just couldn't stand the thought that he might poison you against me.

[ She sniffles, hiccuping softly after all those tears shed and curling up against the warmth of his side. The blue cape of his uniform drapes over her, and Dimitri will feel her breath steadying as she draws comfort and security from his presence. ]

I wish things could be different. I wish I had land or gold--something I could offer you so people wouldn't doubt me when I say I love you.

[hauntedking]

[ Oh. The kiss takes his breath away and he leans into it, returning it with something gentle and what he hopes is reassurance. ]

You don't need land or gold, Dorothea.

[ He keeps his arm and cape wrapped around her, as if he can shelter her from the whole world. ]

I believe you - utterly and completely. No reservations. That's what matters.

[backstreetbard]

[ One of the things that Dorothea loves about Dimitri is that he's too forthright to lie, and she imagines he would do it poorly if he attempted it. When he says he loves her, that he trusts her, she knows he means it. It makes her love him even more.

The cat on her lap leaves them eventually, hopping down and slinking off to disappear into the darkness, maybe hunt down a rat that's gotten comfortable in the monastery's larders. Dorothea knows the two of them can't stay much longer, either.

Patting his knee, she stands and holds out her hands for him. ]

We should go eat. We need to keep our strength with this moon's mission just around the corner. Come on.

[ Rather than suffer through a meal under the scrutinizing eyes of their classmates, Dorothea sneaks into the kitchens and manages to wrangle their supper for them in the form of finger foods tucked into a basket.

The evening crawls on. A day becomes a week, and the class sets off on its mission to Gautier territory. Miklan becomes a monster (or is the terrible form he takes just a manifestation of the wickedness already in his heart?), and then he dies at their hands.

It's a miserable business, and Dorothea finds that no matter how badly Sylvain hurt her just a few days before, she pities him by the end.

The Horsebow Moon dawns with still more bad news: Flayn disappears, and the whole of the staff and the student body turn their efforts to find her. In spite of how secure Garreg Mach had once seemed, Dorothea feels like there are wicked eyes watching her from every corner. She doesn't believe in demons or ghosts, though; she's been kidnapped before, and she'd lost track of how many times someone had tried to snatch her up off the street once even a shred of fame was associated with her name. No, it was never a demon or a ghoul--it was always men, and usually influential ones, too. It bodes badly for the poor girl, regardless, and each passing day makes her recovery less and less likely.

Fortunately for Dorothea, at least, Dimitri rarely leaves her side, always escorting her from her door to their classroom or the dining hall. He can see how upsetting the situation is for her.

It's two weeks into the month when she manages to convince him to break curfew and sneak back into her room after their nightly check-in. Holding her door open just wide enough for him to slip in, she wraps her arms around him once it's closed and locked tight behind him. ]

I'm so glad you came back. It's awful to be alone at night in times like these.

[hauntedking]

[ The next few weeks aren't quite a nightmare, but they're difficult to deal with. For all of his anger with Sylvain, he's a friend and watching him having to kill his own brother - even one he didn't care for - is painful. So he tries to walk a balance between remonstrating and offering him a shoulder to lean on. Then the next month comes and things get worse. Flayn vanishes and students start to walk in groups. The stress on him is increasing and he starts to hear the whispers again - little voices creeping in at the edges of hearing that he hasn't heard in a long time.

Or perhaps he's simply tuned them out.

They're indistinct as of yet. But they're there and he doesn't know what to do besides pretend they're not there. That he isn't followed by his personal ghosts. He focuses on Dorothea instead and tries to make sure she feels safe. That she's protected. She's worried by everything that's happening and so she finally convinces him to sneak out of his room after curfew and so he does, arriving at her room in the dead of night. This isn't right, but she wants him to - and he wants to see her.

Dimitri returns her embrace with a warm squeeze. ]

I know what you mean. Thinking about who might be out there - or just stuck with one's own thoughts.

[ He sighs. ]

But I'll look after you as best I can. I promise.

[backstreetbard]

[ Dorothea doesn't need looking after so much as she needs his company to help keep the darkest of her thoughts at bay. Pulling back slightly, she looks up into his face and stands on her toes to kiss his lips. ]

I know it's a lot to ask of you, but it means so much to me. Would it be uncomfortable for you to... sleep beside me?

[ After all, her bed isn't quite as big as his since she's neither nobility nor a house leader; it means they'll be forced to sleep together if he doesn't insist on the floor (which she's hoping he won't). Her nightgown is a modest white cotton with a soft lace around the collar, nothing revealing or scandalous. ]

It's all right if you don't want to, but I think it would help me sleep...

[hauntedking]

[ He leans down to return the kiss. It's something soft and lingering, but he doesn't want to let himself get too distracted. Even if she's very distracting all on her own, considering her night gown. ]

I-

[ There's a creeping blush in his cheeks. ]

...I can do that, if you think it would help.

[ He is trying not to burst. But he can't really deny her this, can he? ]

[backstreetbard]

"Oh, it would help, and I promise I won't do anything untoward."

More untoward than asking her unwed beau to sleep in her bed, at least. She knows it's a forward request, but he's so good to her, and she kisses him one last time before pulling back the covers and climbing into the bed first. She then holds the blanket up for him, inviting him to join her with bated breath.

Dorothea's bed is like a warm cocoon, fragrant with the scent of roses and lavender and the soft musk of her skin. She shivers, tucking them both in and trying for the life of her not to do anything to overwhelm him, not to press in too close or curl herself into the curve of his body.

She does take his hand, though, threading her fingers between his.

"I love you so much, Dima. Thank you for being here for me."

[hauntedking]

Dimitri isn't fully dressed, of course - he's down to his undershirt and a pair of trousers - and so he clambers into the bed as she invites him in. He's a little nervous, honestly, not quite sure of what to do. The touch and grip of her hand and the warmth and scent of the bed make him relax a little though. It's very her and he enjoys that. Enjoys her.

"And I, you," he replies with a murmur, rolling on to his side to face her, "If this makes you feel better - safer - than I'm happy to do it."

Even if he does start to feel like he's in a dangerous situation just by being here.

[backstreetbard]

"Goodnight, love," she murmurs back, closing her eyes to try and fall asleep now that he's tucked in with her. Easier said than done; she'd promised not to overwhelm him, but until this moment she hadn't considered that his presence might also be somewhat torturous for her--feeling the warmth of his strong body there right beside her, so close but still out of reach.

Sighing, Dorothea tries to meditate, to count sheep, to imagine herself descending into a clear pool of water, but it doesn't calm her. She runs her thumb over the back of Dimitri's hand, the one point of contact she's allowing, and sighs.