* haunted .

     a  soft  smile  crosses  your  face  and  color  rises  on  your  cheeks  as  you  return  her  hug .  it  has  been  quite  some  time  since  the  last  time  somebody  hugged  you ,  truly ,  and  you  had  expected  to  be  ---  well ,  slightly  uncomfortable ,  if  you're  honest  with  yourself .  but  this  is  good .  this  is  nice  ---  you  have  survived ,  and  you  will  continue  surviving ,  if  only  for  times  like  these .  it  may  take  a  while  for  you  to  start  living  for  yourself ,  but  until  then  ---  you  don't  think  it  harmful  to  continue  on  until  that  point  for  the  sake  of  others ,  for  the  sake  of  those  who  are  happy  you  are  still  here .  for  the  sake  of  small  rays  of  light  and  happiness .  yes ,  you  think  that  sounds  just  wonderful .  you  glance  down  at  her ,  smile  widening ,  even  if  it  is  slight .

    PEACE .  he's  not  even  sure  what  that  means  anymore .  it  feels  like  he's  been  fighting  his  entire  life ,  striving  forward ,  to  one  thing  ---  revenge .  will  that  be  his  peace ?  when  he's  gotten  vengeance ,  gotten  justice  for  the  dead ,  will  he  finally  be  able  to  rest ?  or  will  he  be  forced  onward  to  the  next  cause  worth  fighting  for ,  worth  dying  for ?  that's  assuming ,  of  course ,  that  he  survives  this  campaign . ( he  hopes  he  will ,  for  his  people's  sakes ,  for  his  friends'  sakes ,  and  ---  marginally  ---  for  his  own  sake . )  ( he  hopes  he  will ,  but  he  can't  be  sure ,  because  he  feels  that  edelgard  is  too  steadfast  to  stand  down .  )  (  he  told  her ,  once ,  that  he  didn't  want  to  fight  her .  so  much  has  changed  since  then .  right ? )  he  can't  tell  for  sure  what  peace  feels  like ,  but  he  likes  the  idea  of  it .  likes  the  idea  of  home ,  too ; though  it  is  something  he's  not  had  for  many  years ,  the  word  still  evokes  a  kind  of  warmth  in  his  heart .  and  a  kind  of  longing ,  too  ---  for  times  that  might  have  been ,  for  times  that  should  have  been .

     you  are  quiet  a  moment ,  eyelids  fluttering  closed  as  you  take  in  her  words .  though  you  have  never  been  to  the  ocean  for  any  reason  other  than  war ,  you  know  deep  in  your  heart  that  she  is  correct .  you  will  never  be  still ,  never  be  silent ,  never  be  at  peace ,  not  entirely .  you've  not  rested  in  so  long ;  you're  not  sure  you  know  how  anymore ,  haunted  as  you  are  by  the  past .  (  your  deeds  as  loud  as  the  deaths  of  those  you  love .  )  you  take  a  breath .  and  again .

     you  open  your  eyes ,  look  down  at  her .    ❝  perhaps .  ❞    you  will  never  be  rid  of  your  ghosts ,  never  be  rid  of  the  trauma  you  have  accumulated  over  far  too  few  years  for  the  amount  of  hurt  you  feel .  it  will  continue  to  rise  and  to  fall  and  to  throw  you  against  the  jagged  rocks  of  your  memory ;  it  will  tear  open  old  wounds  and  give  you  fresh  ones .  and  just  when  you  think  you  have  begun  healing  for  good ,  when  you  think  perhaps  your  sea  of  torment  has  begun  to  calm ,  will  never  bother  you  again ,  lightning  will  flash  and  you  will  once  again  be  pulled  under ,  gasping  for  breath ,  desperate  for  a  brief  moment's  respite .

     you  know  this  has  been  the  way  of  things ,  but  oh  how  you  so  desperately  want  it  to  be  different .  you  will  always  be  turbulent ,  true ,  but  you  think  perhaps  it  doesn't  have  to  be  the  way  it  has  always  been .  already ,  you  know  that  there  are  tell-tale  signs  of  which  waves  will  toss  you  mercilessly  against  the  rocks  until  you  are  screaming  and  crying  at  the  heavens  ---  and  which  will  simply  set  you  back ,  pull  you  away  from  shore  and  disorient  you .  another  breath .  it  comes  easier  now .

    he’s  mostly  kept  to  himself  for  the  better  half  of  this  war  since  byleth’s   —   and  subsequently  dimitri’s   —   return  from  apparent  death.   (  save  for  his  incessant  pacing  on  the  floor  about  rhea’s  whereabouts  but  that’s  neither  here  nor  there.  )   and  what  he’s  seen  of  dimitri  is .  .  .   concerning.     he  seems—   BETTER  would  be  a  gross  exaggeration,   but  improved  from  how  he  was  at  the  start  of  this  joint  campaign  MAYBE.

     ❝  dimitri,   a  moment,   please?   if  you  are  not  preoccupied.  ❞

             funny how such a brilliant battle tactician seems to falter speaking to a friend . she watches him and realizes her error , sighing at herself , byleth breaks any eye contact . nonetheless , she bears a weaker smile , one more bore in a much needed relief . it still jars her , all of this . there’s no way she could even begin to understand what the time of her absence has been , especially for the prince before her . ❝ ————— i – yes . ❞ the professor’s stammering too , pursing her lips and nodding . and there goes the conversation . why is she so silent ? she’s got so many questions , so much to catch up on . ❝ where were you headed ? maybe i can accompany you , if you don’t mind . ❞