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

[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.

[hauntedking]

Dimitri, too, has a bit of a hard time falling asleep. He's acutely aware of how close they are - how she smells, the warmth of her body. It's... overwhelming in a way and he tries to shut it out. He succeeds a little better than she does - he's almost dozing - but the feel of her thumb moving against his skin brings him back to something more alert.

"...Dorothea, are you still awake?"

[backstreetbard]

"Yes. I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

Dorothea kisses the back of Dimitri's fingers before sitting up and rubbing at her eyes.

"I shouldn't have troubled you with this. We both need to sleep, but having you here is... difficult." Even in the dark of her room, Dorothea is certain that Dimitri will see her blush if he looks at her now. "I even promised to be good."

[hauntedking]

"Oh, no... I can't sleep either," Dimitri admits, a touch sheepishly. He props himself up on his elbow as she sits up, watching her in the dark, trying to read her expression. He isn't quite sure what the matter is until she speaks and he realizes it's something he's having trouble with as well.

He clears his throat.

"...I... think I understand. Very well," he says slowly, "...it's on my mind as well. Even with my promise."

[backstreetbard]

Covering her face, Dorothea gives a small laugh and shakes her head.

"I really will be fine alone for the night if you want to return to your room. Unless... maybe it would be all right if I--no, no, never mind. We shouldn't."

[hauntedking]

"Shouldn't... what?" Dimitri replies. He can feel his face burn a little and his heart start to race. There's a heat in him that's growing and he knows he ought to tamp down on. Maybe he ought to leave.

But he doesn't want to.

Instead, his tongue wets his lips and he squeezes her hand tightly, "...tell me."

His voice has dropped a little lower. Perhaps unconsciously.

[backstreetbard]

"I-I was going to say that maybe I could... rest my head on your shoulder. It's such a silly thing to be embarrassed about, but I want to respect you because I love you so much. I understand you wanting to wait, and I'll wait for you as long as it takes."

Even if it feels like her insides are burning when he squeezes her hand. If her pent-up arousal gets much worse, she's going to need the room to herself to take care of her needs.

[hauntedking]

"Dorothea..." Dimitri murmurs and then, on impulse, he rolls onto his side and reaches out to tug her close, nestling her head against his shoulder.

"I don't mind. I honestly don't. I feel... I feel quite the same, you know."

His thoughts about waiting are very quickly turning into so much chaff.

[backstreetbard]

Dorothea gasps softly, her breath warm against the skin of Dimitri's throat. Ahh, now this is really difficult; the hand still holding his is sandwiched between their bodies, but the other floats above him hesitantly for a moment before settling against his hip. Their knees are knocked together, their bodies so close that she can feel each breath. She murmurs his name in a way that's almost reverent as she snuggles in against him.

It doesn't serve to make her less aroused, unfortunately. In fact, Dimitri can probably feel the way her nipples have gone rigid through the thin fabric of her nightgown when each deep inhalation presses her chest more firmly against his, or maybe even the heat radiating from the apex of her thighs. It's a little embarrassing, honestly, so she tries to go completely still. It only works so much; tipping her head back slightly, the tip of her nose grazes the skin of Dimitri's throat.

Yeah, there's no way she's going to sleep now.

[hauntedking]

Dimitri is acutely aware of where their legs tangle together. Of where their chests meet and he can feel the soft swell of her breasts pressed against him - and the hardened peaks of her nipples pressing against him through two thin layers of cloth. His throat works in a swallow and his head goes back a little as her nose brushes his throat. His breath catches in his throat and his mind can't function for a few moments as he tries to think and he can feel himself growing and hardening between his legs. It's too late for him to try and pull back now - it's going to be very obvious in a moment.

So instead he leans into her.

"Dorothea," he murmurs, voice low and breathless, "...may I kiss you?"

He's such an idiot.

[backstreetbard]

It's the last request she would have expected him to make of her, but she can't deny him anything he asks for in that tone of voice especially. It makes her whole body shiver in his arms.

"Please."

Dorothea hardly even waits for him to be the one to close the gap between them, pulling herself closer until their hungry mouths meet. She still tries to be good, letting their kiss remain (relatively) chaste until she feels his erection straining against the fabric of his pants. She moans softly as the last shreds of restraint she'd been maintaining slip away in favor of wrapping her arms around him. Her leg hikes up to drape over his thigh, not as suggestive as if she'd settled around his waist, but the message is clear: she wants him so badly that she can hardly stand it.

[hauntedking]

No more words for now. As soon as their lips meet, he groans against her lips and he's lost in her. It's hungry and needy and wanting as their bodies press together and her leg hikes against his thigh. He presses closer still, one hand against the small of her back and his own thigh pressing between her legs. It only takes him a moment to roll her onto her back and to slide on top of her, a hand braced alongside her to hold himself up-right as he leans down to continue the kiss.

Any thought of stopping has been banished by the sheer need that seems to be burning through his veins. All he think about is being closer; as close as possible until there's no space left between them, until there's no spot where he ends and she begins.

It helps that he's managed to work a knee between her legs as well.