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Good morning, today I get to finally post the Dedue card I made for Divine Pathways: A Fire Emblem 3H Oracle Deck (bsky)! Thank you so much for having me in the project, I am sooo happy to have gotten the chance to draw him for this!
The oracle text was made by Rose (bsky), so keep an eye out for that too!
The project has an archive with all the art and text, which can be seen here (carrd).
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I really have other things to work on but this really happened quickly:
The station had gone quiet in the way it only did past the second watch — a low thrum of systems, the distant rhythm of the Promenade winding down. Julian’s quarters felt smaller for it. More deliberate.
Garak sat, relaxed, across his side of the sofa, a warm cup of gelat balanced against his knee. The 3D chess set occupied the low table between them, three levels catching the amber light Julian kept lower than regulation. He’d never commented on that.
“Make your move, Doctor.”
Julian looked up from the board, tracing angles. The middle level was a disaster. The top was anyone’s.
“I’m deciding.”
“How to lose?” Garak’s smile arrived before the words did.
Julian picked up his knight. His hand hovered — not uncertainty, something else — and released the white rook to its new square with a soft click.
Garak sat forward. He moved without pause, lifting his own knight and sweeping Julian’s rook cleanly off the board. Set it aside like it had never belonged there.
“Check.”
He settled back. Crossed one leg over the other. The picture of a man with nowhere else to be.
Julian’s expression did something complicated. He reached for his bishop and took the knight — a fair trade on paper, a loss in the longer geometry.
“You’re trying to bait me.”
Garak lifted a pawn on the lower level. It climbed.
“Is it working?”
The ambient hum of the station filled the pause. Somewhere aft, a conduit cycled. Julian moved again — mechanical now, working through it rather than past it.
“Why do you try so hard?”
“I like a challenge.” Another piece. Garak’s eyes didn’t leave the board, but they weren’t reading it either. “You are challenging.” A small nod, as if confirming something to himself.
Julian looked up. The pretense of the game fell away from his face like a mask set down carefully, not dropped.
“I have never given in.”
“I don’t expect you shall.” Garak’s voice carried something that wasn’t quite amusement. “I’m hunting something.” A pause — measured, not accidental. “You’re running from something.”
“We’re both running from things, Garak.”
The Cardassian’s voice dropped. Not softer. Lower. The kind of quiet that fills a room rather than retreating from it.
“Not this.”
Outside, a transport announced its departure on some distant speaker. Neither of them moved.
Julian reached for his remaining rook. Moved it. An aggressive play, cornered into honesty.
“What are you implying? Suggesting?”
Garak moved his own queen down a level. The board tilted further toward inevitable.
“I’m not implying anything.” His fingers left the piece. “Suggesting anything.”
The silence held its shape.
“Then what do you want?”
Garak looked at him then. Not at the board. A moment of something like openness — costly, brief, a door opened just long enough to confirm the room exists.
“I can’t promise forever. Or a future. Or knowing me — not entirely.” His voice remained even, careful, the way a man is careful when he’s telling the truth and knows the weight of it. “I can give tonight. Perhaps others. But it couldn’t be—”
“We couldn’t be.”
“No.” Garak held his gaze. “That’s too dangerous. All around.”
Julian was quiet for a moment. The station hummed its indifferent hum.
“Tonight?”
Garak was unhurried. “If that is your desire.”
“Is it yours?”
Garak watched him. Said nothing. Which was its own kind of answer — the one he wouldn’t let himself speak aloud, wouldn’t hand over, because some things said plainly become things that can be taken away.
Julian reached out and toppled his own king. The piece rolled once and settled on its side, three levels up, catching the amber light.
“That would be your checkmate.” A decision. A choice.
Garak looked at the fallen piece for a moment. Then he leaned forward and set his cup of gelat down on the table, quiet and deliberate, beside the board.
“Julian—” He held out a hand.
Julian stood. He crossed the small distance and took it.
“Tonight.”
“Yes.” Garak said softly. Julian sat beside him on the sofa. The chess set remained where it was, forgotten, the king on his side. The amber light held them both.
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