The Savior King

After listening to Ingrid’s retort, he watched, almost impressed, as the pegasus knight took out a large handful of enemy soldiers in a mere instant. Without much thought, Dimitri took out the stragglers effortlessly. He stood for a few minutes with his back turned towards Ingrid.

He could almost feel the blood soaking through his gauntlets, even though there wasn’t a single drop on them. Dimitri had first encountered the strange sensation after quelling a rebellion so many years ago. Back then, the young prince did everything he could to try and wash off the blood but the feeling never went away, only dulled. Over the past fives years, it had no longer become a bother to him. My hands will never be clean, will they? he thought to himself. I could wash my hands in the ocean, only to turn the waters red.

Dimitri’s mind shifted back to what Ingrid had said. She’s wrong, the voices seemed to say. Of course, she was wrong. How many others had told him that? His father, Glenn, and even Dedue he believed to be more than capable fighters and yet death caught up with all of them.

“You think I haven’t heard that line before?” he said as he gripped his lance. “Look at what happened to everyone else I cared about…” Dimitri muttered under his breath.

The moment the last of the soldiers were slain, Ingrid did not hesitate to pierce the earth with her lance and lean all of her weight against her trusty silver weapon in an effort to relieve her fatigue. Closing her eyes, one breath after another tumbled from her lips, and she focused only on composing herself. After a few moments of silent meditation, her breathing and heartbeat steadied. Though she was still exhausted, her body aching from constant marching, she at the very least, no longer felt close to collapse. Straightening, Ingrid drew her lance from the ground, returning it to its place upon her back. She would have to maintenance later, once they had safely returned to their base of operations.

Ingrid only lifted her head at the sound of His Highness’s muttering, and her features twisted into a frown, her own spirits falling. She knew all too well the pain he felt. Glenn had always, always promised to return home safely, every time he was deployed. Then, one day, he did not return. His death had been one she had lamented so deeply that she neglected herself for months, locking herself away and finding no joy in anything she had previously loved; not even her beloved horse. If she wouldn’t have recovered from her sorrow, would she have become as Dimitri is now?

“Life is fleeting. There is a thin line between life and death,” Ingrid replied quietly, stepping forward slowly, carefully, “as people, we can only do everything we can to hold onto the promises we make to others. Those promises that were made to you…I am certain they had every intention of keeping them.” She paused in her steps when she was a mere pace behind him, drawing in both a breath and her courage.

In truth, Dimitri was tired of it all: the voices, the nightmares, the stench of death. Death... it followed him everywhere. The headaches grew more and more frequent, often becoming migraines. Ever since he was a boy he had the same metallic taste coating his mouth. Dimitri couldn’t even recall the last time he had gotten a decent night’s sleep. Sometimes he felt that fighting so recklessly would’ve ended his suffering all together. But alas, even he wasn’t that lucky.

Unfortunately, Dimitri knew that the other boy had no place to call home now. And while he may have saved his life in the capital, surely others outside the castle might wish him harm. But hearing that Dedue wished to stay was probably the best choice for them both.

The collapsed chapel was a bit warmer today. The setting sun cast through the broken ceiling. As per usual, Dimitri was the only one there. Most of the army had gotten used to his sulking. A few would try to make small talk but they usually gave up and left him to his own thoughts.

When he had been on his own, traveling all over Fodlan to try and find His Highness, there were many people that he had to cut down before they took his life first. He hated it, didn’t find any enjoyment in doing what he had to do, but there was nothing that he could do about it. Getting back to Dimitri and being able to make sure that his dreams were fulfilled were more important than anything else. No matter what happened to him in the end, he was going to see to it that Dimitri got his revenge against the Empire, no matter what.

He had missed being by Dimitri’s side, he could count on one hand the number of times the two of them had been apart for more than a day ever since he had arrived at his castle. He knew that the other was strong enough to care for himself, had proved that time and time again, but that didn’t quell his worry for him. However, he wished that he was able to reach out to him like he had been able to before all of this had happened. He wanted to be able to be that shield for him, even if he was shielding His Highness from himself.

He reached out his hand, wanting to place his hand on his shoulder fro comfort, but dropped it down by his side after a few moments of contemplation. I wish to comfort you, Your Highness, but I do not wish to cross any boundaries. He listened to what he said, a small frown settling on his lips when he heard all of the pain and suffering that he was harboring and carrying onto alone. He could understand what it was like to have horrific scenes replaying over and over, and how hard it was to get those voices to settle.

“I am sorry, Your Highness. I did not mean to be another burden for you to bare.” His voice was soft, but there was a slight tinge of sadness to it. He hated to think that his failure to get to him quicker resulted in him believing that he had died and only adding to the guilt that he bore. “You do not have to seek vengeance for me anymore, I am here. Please let me bare that burden for you. I do not wish to see you have to carry this all by yourself, Your Highness.” He wasn’t the best with words, didn’t know what to say but he wanted to help him in anyway that he could and helping him carry the burden was what he knew how to do best.

“No Dedue, I should be the one apologizing.” Dimitri noticed his friend’s hand out of the corner of his good eye. Of course Dedue would hesitate after what I’ve become. He thought to himself. Like everyone else, he would have to re-earn Dedue’s trust. Not that he didn’t trust him but... based on Dimitri’s recent behavior, he really didn’t blame the other for hesitating. A few months ago, the boar would have impaled someone for doing such.

He turned around to his friend to look him in the eyes. Dimitri gingerly set his hands atop Dedue’s shoulders as if to reassure him that the notion would be accepted. 

While he had already apologized to the whole army, he felt that Dedue was owed a personal one. Especially, because of his foolish mindset. He had no right asking Dedue not to risk his life when that’s all Dimitri had been doing. For the past five years, the exiled prince had killed and ravaged all while throwing caution to the wind. In all honesty, Dimitri thought it pure luck that he hadn’t died in the woods alone.

“Your Highness, wait.” Ingrid’s stern voice echoed off the dilapidated walls of what once was a grand town just outside Garreg Mach Monastery. Broken arrows, rusted swords, and other remnants of the battle five years ago littered the ground, forgotten since the place’s abandonment. Homes that once housed pious families lay vacant, its windows shattered and doors ripped from their hinges; the aftermath of being pillaged. The oil lanterns that lit the pathways of the town had long gone dry, leaving the two bathed in only the light of the moon. The silence was overbearing.

“Do you honestly think I’d just sit back and let you disappear in search of supplies alone?” She asked, her jaw clenched tight. Her arms were taut at her sides, one hand balled into a fist while the other grasped her lance tightly. The fall of the monastery, their beloved professor vanishing, and the rise of the Empire’s conquest had severely impacted Dimitri. The childhood friend she once knew, kind and determined to become a protective king, had completely transformed into someone she didn’t recognize. Gloomy, haunted, hesitant to interact with anyone. Yet, despite these changes, Ingrid still cared for him. Her allegiance to Dimitri was not only due to his status as Faerghus’s future king, but because he was her friend. She wouldn’t idly stand-by and allow him to go off on his own.

“How many times do I need to tell you? I am perfectly capable of protecting myself!” She reassured him, clenching her teeth as she turned to impale an enemy soldier that had attempted to sneak up behind her while in conversation. Taking advantage of the adrenaline Dimitri had inspired, Ingrid pressed forward, slashing down enemies left and right as she was able, all while carefully maneuvering herself to avoid major injuries.

With a few cuts and bruises, the two had managed to thin the enemy soldiers significantly; only a handful of stragglers remained. But that success didn’t come without a consequence. Ingrid was exhausted.

After listening to Ingrid’s retort, he watched, almost impressed, as the pegasus knight took out a large handful of enemy soldiers in a mere instant. Without much thought, Dimitri took out the stragglers effortlessly. He stood for a few minutes with his back turned towards Ingrid.

He could almost feel the blood soaking through his gauntlets, even though there wasn’t a single drop on them. Dimitri had first encountered the strange sensation after quelling a rebellion so many years ago. Back then, the young prince did everything he could to try and wash off the blood but the feeling never went away, only dulled. Over the past fives years, it had no longer become a bother to him. My hands will never be clean, will they? he thought to himself. I could wash my hands in the ocean, only to turn the waters red.

Dimitri’s mind shifted back to what Ingrid had said. She’s wrong, the voices seemed to say. Of course, she was wrong. How many others had told him that? His father, Glenn, and even Dedue he believed to be more than capable fighters and yet death caught up with all of them.

It was the day of the Goddess’ Rite of Rebirth and everyone was on edge. With the rise of a mysterious threat, the class had been put to the task of guarding the monastery. They had all come to the conclusion that the enemy would target the Holy Mausoleum. While the other classes were spread out, on alert, the Blue Lions stuck close to the cathedral. It wasn’t long before there suspicions were proven right. 

The professor had greatly stressed the importance of staying in a group. At the bare minimum, they be in pair if separated. Keeping this in mind, Dimitri stayed behind to make sure there were no stragglers. His class would need all the help they could get until the knights arrived, not to mention that he couldn’t bare the thought of any of his classmates being cornered.

The day of the Goddess’ Rite of Rebirth arrived too soon. Bernadetta didn’t feel prepared. Yet here she was, standing alongside the Blue Lions house, whom have already rushed into the mausoleum. She froze, holding her bow tight, already uncertain what to do watching so much movement. Thoughts ran through her head, thoughts that she might die, or someone else might die, or that whoever’s raiding the tomb will get away and how furious Rhea souls be if that happens.

Then she heard a voice. A deep, almost unfamiliar voice. Bernadetta squeaked in surprise as she was pulled from her thoughts. The one who stood before her was Prince Dimitri, leader of the Blue Lions house. Without thought, Bernadetta retorted,

“W-wait! I’m not ready! How many of them are there?! Wouldn’t you want me to stay back in case they run through here? Ohh, why did your professor pick me for the job?”

Dimitri noted how much the girl was panicking. Of course he knew she was prone to such behavior, he was never given the task of deescalating her anxieties. He was sure Edelgard would have no problem in times like these. Think, Dimitri. How would Edelgard handle this?

In the most calming voice he could manage, despite his increasing adrenaline, he spoke to her. “Bernadetta, I am sure the professor asked you to be here because they know that you are a capable fighter. And if the professor has faith in you, then so do I.”

@taciturndevotee

The collapsed chapel was a bit warmer today. The setting sun cast through the broken ceiling. As per usual, Dimitri was the only one there. Most of the army had gotten used to his sulking. A few would try to make small talk but they usually gave up and left him to his own thoughts.

He watched as the others gaze instantly focused on his scars. He never cared much about how his appearance looked, the scars an afterthought for him, but he could tell that they seemed to cause the other a great deal of pain. He didn’t blame him for any of the scars that he got. He wore them proudly, they were a sign that he had done what he needed to in order to protect His Highness, but he could tell that the other didn’t see it that way.

The two of them had always been comfortable around one another. Dimitri had given Dedue a sense of purpose and meaning again, and even though he wasn’t sure what exactly he gave him in return, he knew that they had a very strong bond with one another. However, ever since his return, it seemed as though His Highness couldn’t even bare to look at him. While his gaze remained unchanging, there was constant worry in the back of his mind. There had only been a few times where the other had been able to make proper eye contact with him, but it seemed like now just being around him was painful for him.

“I am glad that you have found a place where you are able to feel at ease, Your Highness.” He was grateful that at least this place could provide some sort of solace from the other, even though he wasn’t exactly sure what he was trying to find solace from. He took a few steps forward, moving to stand beside the other since he had turned away from him. He wasn’t trying to overstep his bounds, but he wanted to see if Dimitri was truly uncomfortable being in his presence now that he had returned.

“What are these voices that seem to haunt you? You have never spoke to me about them before.” There was still a tone of neutrality in his voice, even though there was a slight hint of care and concern as well. He had never heard the other speak about hearing voices before and couldn’t help but wonder if they were the reason that he had changed as drastically as he did.

Your Highness... It was a title he did not deserve, let alone be called that by Dedue. Dimitri noticed that his old friend had stepped closer to him. It was a nice familiar presence, calming almost. The young king had almost forgotten that it was once Dedue who hushed the voices before he found solace in the goddess’ statue. Perhaps that was why he rarely talked about them before. He had always heard them, ever since the Tragedy of Duscur, but they were never as bad until he had lost Dedue.

It took Dimitri a while before he could answer, as if contemplating whether or not he should confide in the other. Looking up at the dilapidated statue, it seemed appropriate that he should confess his demons in her presence. Like she was protecting him, healing him almost.

“Your Highness, wait.” Ingrid’s stern voice echoed off the dilapidated walls of what once was a grand town just outside Garreg Mach Monastery. Broken arrows, rusted swords, and other remnants of the battle five years ago littered the ground, forgotten since the place’s abandonment. Homes that once housed pious families lay vacant, its windows shattered and doors ripped from their hinges; the aftermath of being pillaged. The oil lanterns that lit the pathways of the town had long gone dry, leaving the two bathed in only the light of the moon. The silence was overbearing.

“Do you honestly think I’d just sit back and let you disappear in search of supplies alone?” She asked, her jaw clenched tight. Her arms were taut at her sides, one hand balled into a fist while the other grasped her lance tightly. The fall of the monastery, their beloved professor vanishing, and the rise of the Empire’s conquest had severely impacted Dimitri. The childhood friend she once knew, kind and determined to become a protective king, had completely transformed into someone she didn’t recognize. Gloomy, haunted, hesitant to interact with anyone. Yet, despite these changes, Ingrid still cared for him. Her allegiance to Dimitri was not only due to his status as Faerghus’s future king, but because he was her friend. She wouldn’t idly stand-by and allow him to go off on his own.

Ingrid did not flinch when Prince Dimitri mercilessly cut down the enemy beside her, nor when he glared at her with a crazed expression, making his senseless demands. Within this emotionally crippled, destructive man, she knew her friend remained. One that would act responsibility and not foolishly make decisions as a result of irrational emotion. If he refused to show that part of him, Ingrid would take responsibility for him. Stepping forward, she grasped the collar of his cape, pulling him downward to her height.

“Neither will I! I will not abandon you. Nothing you say will change my mind.” She retorted, raising her own voice. She was committed to her beliefs without doubt. She knew in her heart this was the right decision–whether His Highness agreed or not. Ingrid only withdrew for a moment to plunge her lance through an enemy that had nearly interrupted them, before returning her attention to him. She slapped her hand hard on her breastplate, her eyes fiery with emotion.

“I have fought too hard to allow our King to get himself killed. My friend,” She stressed, releasing him to grip her lance with both hands, “so you can either work with me, or fight me every step of the way. The choice is yours.”

Dimitr shifted his focus back to the decreasing amount of soldiers. They had talked long enough. If they’re talking persisted, one of them would become too distracted to defend against the threat. Ingrid would just become another casualty and Dimitri refused to be killed at the hands of these lowly soldiers. He’d rather die at the hands of Edelgard herself than to her lackeys.

With a few more soldiers defeated, there was a pull on his collar. He was only a few seconds away from impaling the assailant until he saw it was Ingrid. Dimitri tried to shake away but the pegasus knight’s grip was stronger than he realized. He figured he had gotten the point across earlier but perhaps they were both too stubborn for their own good. One of them would have to cave in order for them to make it back alive, and Dimitri was pretty sure it would have to be him.

Friends... His one eye met with Ingrid’s. Everyone from the Blue Lions referred to him as their king, their classmate, their friend, but a part of himself refused to believe any of that. That the professor was making them stay. However, the fiery determination in her eyes proved otherwise. Don’t give me hope. he thought to himself.

@the-savior-king

“Your Highness, wait.” Ingrid’s stern voice echoed off the dilapidated walls of what once was a grand town just outside Garreg Mach Monastery. Broken arrows, rusted swords, and other remnants of the battle five years ago littered the ground, forgotten since the place’s abandonment. Homes that once housed pious families lay vacant, its windows shattered and doors ripped from their hinges; the aftermath of being pillaged. The oil lanterns that lit the pathways of the town had long gone dry, leaving the two bathed in only the light of the moon. The silence was overbearing.

“Do you honestly think I’d just sit back and let you disappear in search of supplies alone?” She asked, her jaw clenched tight. Her arms were taut at her sides, one hand balled into a fist while the other grasped her lance tightly. The fall of the monastery, their beloved professor vanishing, and the rise of the Empire’s conquest had severely impacted Dimitri. The childhood friend she once knew, kind and determined to become a protective king, had completely transformed into someone she didn’t recognize. Gloomy, haunted, hesitant to interact with anyone. Yet, despite these changes, Ingrid still cared for him. Her allegiance to Dimitri was not only due to his status as Faerghus’s future king, but because he was her friend. She wouldn’t idly stand-by and allow him to go off on his own.

Avoiding another attack to her flank, Ingrid quickly responded to the opponent with a pair of jabs as a counter attack of her own. With the soldier felled, she shifted her focus to another soldier that rushed in her direction, sword drawn and ready to swing. She raised her lance to defend herself, the sword bouncing off of the silver with a loud reverberation.

“I’m not abandoning you to take this fight alone,” She shouted over the racket of clashing weaponry and the cries of soldiers, “I am perfectly capable of defending myself!” Dispatching another soldier, Ingrid watched from the corners of her verdant eyes as Dimitri rushed into a cluster of soldiers. Why had he become so infuriatingly reckless? She had little choice but to follow after him, taking out soldiers with each step. If they were to become separated, it would only put them at a disadvantage.

Stealing another glance to Dimitri caused her to momentarily drop her guard. A soldier entered her vision swifter than she had anticipated, and she narrowly avoided a jab to her side, her cape instead catching the blade of the swordsman and audibly tearing.

Dimitri’s rage only grew at Ingrid’s refusal. “You daft woman!” he yelled back as he slashed away a few more soldiers. “These soldiers’ lives matter not but you? I will not permit another death by my hands. BEGONE!”

He wasn’t sure who that yell was directed at, Ingrid or the enemy. Both he was extremely angry with for opposing reasons. He would rather have his life taken hear by these low-life, Imperial scum than let Ingrid perish for his sake. And to further prove his point, an enemy nearly cut Ingrid down. To get his point through to his old companion, Dimitri thrust his spear into the soldier that snagged her cape.

He had spent the last five years trying to reunite with His Highness, to make sure that he had continued to survive after he broke out. Being away from the other had been hard, his mind constantly wondering and worrying about his safety since he hadn’t been there to protect him. He had been grateful when he found him once again, but he could tell that time had not been kind to Dimitri.

Dedue had just finished tending to some of the plants in the greenhouse and was walking around, enjoying the time of solitude in the sun. He had passed the chapel and saw a familiar figure inside, one that he had not had much interaction with since returning to his side. He slowly walked inside, taking in just how much had changed since he had been here last. He came up beside the other and didn’t say anything for a moment, allowing a moment of silence to pass between them before finally speaking.

“My lord, may I ask what you are doing here? Are there no other places you would rather be?”

A familiar voice snapped him out of trance. Dimitri turned around to meet the last person he wanted to face right now. Another pang of guilt hit him, as he gazed upon the scars that covered his friends face. How many of those did he get in the prince’s stead... how many of them were his fault. He had made a promise to be by Dedue’s side and Dimitri had failed him... just like he had failed countless others.

Dimitri couldn’t think of anything to say, hell he couldn’t even make proper eye contact with him. Instead, his one eye remained focused on Dedue’s scars. There were no words to justify the things he had done over the past five years, let alone the man, no beast, he had become. No amount of apologies would ever be enough to reconcile himself. And yet, Dedue still saw him worthy enough of using his title.

Much to their misfortune, soldiers emerged from the shadows, trained and equipped for battle. Ingrid clenched her teeth, her eyes narrowing as she recognized the banner adorned to their armor: it was the Imperial Army. While they had been spared the adversity of encountering the Empire’s main force, this small unit was undoubtedly a division of scouts. If they allowed the enemy to withdraw, they would surely report their findings, informing the Emperor of their position. She gripped onto her lance tightly, her knuckles growing pale. Even for a small force, they were outnumbered…but there was no choice.

“At the ready.” Ingrid stated, shifting into a defensive stance. While she wasn’t accompanied by her Pegasus, she would still fare well on foot. One of the soldiers lunged at her and swiftly, she avoided the strike, following up with a solid jab of her lance.

Even if it had been something harmless, like a rodent, Dimitri was glad he relied on his instincts. His eye focused on the Imperial insignia. Pure, uncontrollable rage pulsed through his blood at the sight. Hadn’t she expended enough soldiers trying to put him down? How much would that horrendous woman throw away, just to have his head? 

“No.” he said in a forceful tone. “I’m the beast they’re hunting for.” 

Two more soldiers came after him. Dimitri had been chased after Imperial soldiers for so long that  he knew the way they were trained, the way they fought. It was only a matter of seconds before he had disposed of them. He would make them regret this night.