![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Dimivain Week: Day 7 - Celebrations/Trust
Throughout the streets of Derdriu, its citizens and so many soldiers and knights revel in the victory that has been won. Dimitri wishes that he could be a part of it, in more ways than one - to be the person that thought of such things, that demonstrated such care to protect the citizens, that he could celebrate.
Yet despite the fact that he is the star of the show here, so to speak, Dimitri dares not engage in such jubilation. Not for long, at any rate. He does his duty, as can be expected of someone who now must be a proper king, who needs to show people that he is here and doing better... That he is someone that they can all rely on, and who won't leave them to the wolves. There is a toast that doesn't lift his heart nearly as much, and he makes sure that all his closest allies are still doing well. It's just, in the end, he has to retreat to the room he's taken up in an inn, and watch outside as the streets light up almost as if it were day with all the torches and lanterns lit.
It's the brightest scene he thinks his eyes have witnessed in a very long time, second perhaps only to the one he saw when he stood out after besting Cornelia, and looked outside to citizens who saw not a monster, but a hero. Even they, however, were a tired and poor sight, after having suffered for so long underneath her rule.
The citizens of the Alliance, especially those who have the good fortune to live here in Riegan territory, do not look as though they are on the verge of starvation. They are still clearly not in the thriving life they had before war was beset upon them, but there is enough food here for them to celebrate freely, and they all seem to be in decent health - those who he can see with his own eye, at any rate.
When the war ends... If he truly does ascend with no problem as the King of Faerghus... He will have to do better. So much better.
Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, there's a knock on his door, and it's already opening even as he turns his head to look at it. He doesn't have any lamps lit in his room; the celebration of their successful defense against the Imperial army has the streets lit up enough for him. Even that meager amount of light is enough to reflect off Sylvain's red hair as he pokes his head inside, and he grins as he spots Dimitri. "There you are," he says. "I guess Dedue was right in that you retreated back to your room. Well, it is a lot, huh?"
It is. Five years of living on his own out wandering inbetween the slums and the wilderness, barely interacting with people besides the bare minimum out of combat, and then these past few months where he's been staying in the ruined cathedral that was once a part of the prestigious Garreg Mach... How is he supposed to react to such joy, such prosperity?
Since he's had to be this social at all... Was it always so exhausting? He feels that it couldn't have been. Certainly he loathes dancing - being so close to people he may not care for, the grace he feels certain he is incapable of, handling such delicate things with hands far too monstrous. However, for a overall festival, he hardly needs to engage in that. It would have been enough if he had stayed, allowed people to approach him and talk.
It's just... He couldn't. Not when a part of him is still so certain that he's a monster, that something will come crawling out of his skin and drench them all in blood - his or their own, he's not entirely sure if it makes a difference at times.
Once upon a time, Sylvain would have been exasperated by such a response. He always was trying to get Felix, Dimitri, and Ingrid to enjoy parties more. They must be quite fun, for someone who loves to see people, and, well, Sylvain loves all of them. Of course he would want to share that kind of happiness with them.
He doesn't say that, however, not this time. Instead, he just nods, and shuts the door quietly behind him. Dimitri doesn't hear the click of the lock, not with how the city is buzzing with noise from the post-battle celebrations, but he can see the way Sylvain's hand moves to make sure the door is secure. Even during a wonderful time like this, they have to be careful of another assassin. "It's fine, I imagine more than a few of the soldiers will turn in early tonight as well," Sylvain concedes, joining him over by the dim light of the window. "Everyone would love to throw their inhibitions to the wind and go wild, but... We still have a lot more work to do before the war can end, huh? So either people go all out out of pure stress relief, or they can't help but worry even more, and retreat."
It's a little bit different from what Dimitri is feeling, but... He suspects that Sylvain is well aware of that. Instead, if anyone asks, then this sort of thing is his excuse. They will celebrate properly when the war is done.
"What of you?" Dimitri asks, and something stirs faintly in his memory. It is hard to recall things, occasionally, or at least the exact details. The days sometimes passed in a complete blur, the five years he'd been on his own, to the degree that Dimitri is somewhat astonished he managed to remember to uphold the promise he made with all of the others. And yet... More than the days, certain moments stand out clearly in his mind. "Did you also need... some peace and quiet, away from all the festivities?" That was what happened not that long ago, wasn't it? The day that Rodrigue...
"Something like that," Sylvain concedes, leaning against the windowframe. "Honestly... I was mostly just coming to find you."
Oh. Dimitri resists the urge to clasp his hands together, as though he is some child that is being called out. "I see," he says, because that is what normal humans do. They stall for time. "Then... So long as you are here, Sylvain... May I ask you something?"
"Shoot, Mitya."
He is not feeling particularly confident enough to shoot anything, not even his words. Still, Dimitri knows how important communication is... He knows how important it is to say what one means to say before they are robbed of that chance forever. That is a particular lesson which has been beaten into his head a great many times now, over the course of his life. So he takes a breath, and asks, "Were you serious, when you said that you did not want to break up with me?"
In hindsight, he knows that such a tactic had to have been because Sylvain - like so many others - was simply trying to get through to him in any way possible. He can't blame him for that. But... It has made him reflect, a little bit.
Maybe something - someone - like him doesn't deserve to entertain such thoughts and feelings... Especially with all he will have to do after the war, how many more people will object if he chooses to pursue something like this in his romantic life. It was always going to be a matter that was protested, of course, but with all that has happened? The demand for a heir, for a symbol of safety and security will be even more pronounced.
But he still desires, nonetheless. And if they are still alive, then... Is it not worth trying?
Something seems to shift in Sylvain's gaze, like the light of the sun revealing how deep the ocean truly is. Festival light, showing the depths in him. "I was serious," he says, words awkward and hesitating only a bit. Not out of a lack of desire, but... Uncertainty, maybe. Dimitri can understand that. "I mean, I know what kind of guy I am, and the kind of things I said when my dating life was a little more lively... but I wouldn't mess with you like that." Another deep breath, as though preparing himself for some sort of battle. "If you still really want me, then I really want to stay. But I really will break up with you, if that's what you feel is right too. I know... the amount of responsibility you've gotten has only grown, and it was pre-tty big to start with."
Yes... Dimitri supposes that's true. His responsibilities have, impossibly and without any desire from himself, grown exponentially. His romantic life matters all the more to people who are not personally involved in it.
That doesn't change his answer as he tilts his head towards Sylvain and says, "From what I understood, Sylvain, you are not permitted to break up with me until you have taken me out on a proper date... and you have yet to do so since you made that statement, haven't you?"
For just a moment, Sylvain stares at him, and then he ducks his head, chuckling. "I guess that is what I said, isn't it?" he says, straightening up with a smile. He holds his hand out to Dimitri, looking radiant in the festival light. "Well, if that's the case, I ought to take you on a proper date right now. Best to do it while we're still thinking about it... although I think I might skip on the breaking up part of the whole idea."
Most of the celebrations are taking place down in the city itself. That makes it almost criminally easy for Sylvain to slip away the King of Faerghus away from all the people and festivities. There are a few with similar ideas - not with the king of a country, exactly, but certainly those who wish to steal away some more private time. Yet if any of them recognize who Dimitri and Sylvain are, eyepatch and red hair quite notable, well, no one says anything. They're left free and unbothered as they make their way through the streets, down to the docks and, eventually, the shoreline.
Fhirdiad is near the water itself, but the waters there seem almost completely different from what is here in Derdriu. They seem softer, warmer, although that's honestly not as much of a surprise as Dimitri supposes it should be.
Despite the fact that sand is almost guaranteed to get into every little nook and cranny of their clothes, Sylvain tosses off his boots almost the second they're down along the shoreline, and laughs a little bit. "You know, I was taken to Derdriu ages ago for some noble nonsense thing my parents were doing," he tells Dimitri over his shoulder, as the two of them look out onto the shimmering ocean. There, the moon and its double stare at each other, and the world feels strangely lighter even though it is the dead of night. "I always kind of wanted to come back. I never thought it would be like this, but with how the night is ending up, this isn't all that bad either, you know."
Dimitri agrees, honestly, although he's never been to Derdriu before. It was something that was meant to happen when he was just a little bit older and when his father was still alive - a tour of the different neighboring countries, so that he could see the way different people lived and how the different politics played out. When his father had died, well. That had never really happened. Too many things became important, more important than a little tour.
Would it have changed anything? He supposes not. Still... Dimitri glances down at himself, at the borrowed clothes he's still wearing instead of the armor he thinks he's kept steadily on for five years now. "It would be nice," he admits, "if we could visit again when this is all over, and with no arms or armor."
A peaceful visit, not marred by bloodshed or ruined cobblestone or the loss of friends that they still could not prevent, even with the entire plan going off as well as it did.
Sylvain is nodding, when he looks up, his gaze distant as he looks towards the moon. A quieter source of light, than the brilliant golden glow of the celebrations. "Well, when that happens, we'll really have to dress up," he says, as Dimitri comes to join him. "Wouldn't want anyone to think we aren't taking a visit seriously. Gotta gussy up."
"I would be happy in the clothes of a pauper so long as I was here with you," Dimitri says, and brushes his hand against Sylvain's. Is he allowed to so much as dare to do this? He has no idea, but Sylvain doesn't seem to mind as their hands join together. "I need not the extravagant garb of visiting royalty... and, honestly, it would all be tiresome to deal with anyway."
A laugh bubbles out of Sylvain's throat, and he bumps their shoulders together. When did Dimitri get tall enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with Sylvain? It feels strange to think about. "And you sounded so romantic for a second there, too," Sylvain teases him. "Although I agree we could do without all the fuss."
Of course, both of them know that it's not likely that they'll be able to visit Derdriu in casual clothes, if that day can ever come. Even for a margrave, it would be expected for him to dress up in proper clothing befitting his station. And with Dimitri there... Well. Either way, it is a nice thing to dream about. Nice enough to just get lost thinking of, as the two of them slowly start to move down along the shoreline.
"With Fhirdiad taken, and Derdriu safe as the Alliance is absorbed into the Kingdom, then the war is probably going to be over soon, huh?" Sylvain says, while Dimitri combs the beach with his gaze just in case. Best not to step on a sharp rock or shell. "I mean, theoretically, it could go into another years long stalemate, with the Empire playing it safe and holding back now that we're clearly on slightly more even playing fields... but I don't think Edelgard is the kind of woman to play that way."
No... She isn't. If she were that kind of woman, that kind of emperor, Dimitri supposes they wouldn't be in this situation to start with. "I won't let that happen either," Dimitri says quietly. "If I can make it so that no more blood is spilled, and this entire thing does not go on any longer... Then I will."
Sylvain just nods. "I know you will," he tells him, and then smiles. "Hey, when we finally finish all of this... Let's go out again. We can go in the forests for a ride, or whatever you like."
"Will we really have the time for something such as that, when there will be so much to do after the war?"
"Don't worry, I'll make some time in your schedule." Stopping where they are, Sylvain turns to face him with a smile. "It's exactly like I used to tell you all those years ago, back when we were in school - you need to relax and find some nice things in life. Be happy."
Dimitri doesn't think he really deserves happiness after all he's done... But maybe it doesn't matter what he thinks on that matter, not right now. Instead, as he looks at Sylvain's smile... He can't resist leaning in towards him, their hands cradled in one another's. "Then, so long as we both make it out of this alive," he murmurs, "I will try to be happy." And he kisses him, gently and tentatively, along the corner of his mouth.
Underneath clear and free moonlight, Sylvain shows him how to properly do it.
Yet despite the fact that he is the star of the show here, so to speak, Dimitri dares not engage in such jubilation. Not for long, at any rate. He does his duty, as can be expected of someone who now must be a proper king, who needs to show people that he is here and doing better... That he is someone that they can all rely on, and who won't leave them to the wolves. There is a toast that doesn't lift his heart nearly as much, and he makes sure that all his closest allies are still doing well. It's just, in the end, he has to retreat to the room he's taken up in an inn, and watch outside as the streets light up almost as if it were day with all the torches and lanterns lit.
It's the brightest scene he thinks his eyes have witnessed in a very long time, second perhaps only to the one he saw when he stood out after besting Cornelia, and looked outside to citizens who saw not a monster, but a hero. Even they, however, were a tired and poor sight, after having suffered for so long underneath her rule.
The citizens of the Alliance, especially those who have the good fortune to live here in Riegan territory, do not look as though they are on the verge of starvation. They are still clearly not in the thriving life they had before war was beset upon them, but there is enough food here for them to celebrate freely, and they all seem to be in decent health - those who he can see with his own eye, at any rate.
When the war ends... If he truly does ascend with no problem as the King of Faerghus... He will have to do better. So much better.
Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, there's a knock on his door, and it's already opening even as he turns his head to look at it. He doesn't have any lamps lit in his room; the celebration of their successful defense against the Imperial army has the streets lit up enough for him. Even that meager amount of light is enough to reflect off Sylvain's red hair as he pokes his head inside, and he grins as he spots Dimitri. "There you are," he says. "I guess Dedue was right in that you retreated back to your room. Well, it is a lot, huh?"
It is. Five years of living on his own out wandering inbetween the slums and the wilderness, barely interacting with people besides the bare minimum out of combat, and then these past few months where he's been staying in the ruined cathedral that was once a part of the prestigious Garreg Mach... How is he supposed to react to such joy, such prosperity?
Since he's had to be this social at all... Was it always so exhausting? He feels that it couldn't have been. Certainly he loathes dancing - being so close to people he may not care for, the grace he feels certain he is incapable of, handling such delicate things with hands far too monstrous. However, for a overall festival, he hardly needs to engage in that. It would have been enough if he had stayed, allowed people to approach him and talk.
It's just... He couldn't. Not when a part of him is still so certain that he's a monster, that something will come crawling out of his skin and drench them all in blood - his or their own, he's not entirely sure if it makes a difference at times.
Once upon a time, Sylvain would have been exasperated by such a response. He always was trying to get Felix, Dimitri, and Ingrid to enjoy parties more. They must be quite fun, for someone who loves to see people, and, well, Sylvain loves all of them. Of course he would want to share that kind of happiness with them.
He doesn't say that, however, not this time. Instead, he just nods, and shuts the door quietly behind him. Dimitri doesn't hear the click of the lock, not with how the city is buzzing with noise from the post-battle celebrations, but he can see the way Sylvain's hand moves to make sure the door is secure. Even during a wonderful time like this, they have to be careful of another assassin. "It's fine, I imagine more than a few of the soldiers will turn in early tonight as well," Sylvain concedes, joining him over by the dim light of the window. "Everyone would love to throw their inhibitions to the wind and go wild, but... We still have a lot more work to do before the war can end, huh? So either people go all out out of pure stress relief, or they can't help but worry even more, and retreat."
It's a little bit different from what Dimitri is feeling, but... He suspects that Sylvain is well aware of that. Instead, if anyone asks, then this sort of thing is his excuse. They will celebrate properly when the war is done.
"What of you?" Dimitri asks, and something stirs faintly in his memory. It is hard to recall things, occasionally, or at least the exact details. The days sometimes passed in a complete blur, the five years he'd been on his own, to the degree that Dimitri is somewhat astonished he managed to remember to uphold the promise he made with all of the others. And yet... More than the days, certain moments stand out clearly in his mind. "Did you also need... some peace and quiet, away from all the festivities?" That was what happened not that long ago, wasn't it? The day that Rodrigue...
"Something like that," Sylvain concedes, leaning against the windowframe. "Honestly... I was mostly just coming to find you."
Oh. Dimitri resists the urge to clasp his hands together, as though he is some child that is being called out. "I see," he says, because that is what normal humans do. They stall for time. "Then... So long as you are here, Sylvain... May I ask you something?"
"Shoot, Mitya."
He is not feeling particularly confident enough to shoot anything, not even his words. Still, Dimitri knows how important communication is... He knows how important it is to say what one means to say before they are robbed of that chance forever. That is a particular lesson which has been beaten into his head a great many times now, over the course of his life. So he takes a breath, and asks, "Were you serious, when you said that you did not want to break up with me?"
In hindsight, he knows that such a tactic had to have been because Sylvain - like so many others - was simply trying to get through to him in any way possible. He can't blame him for that. But... It has made him reflect, a little bit.
Maybe something - someone - like him doesn't deserve to entertain such thoughts and feelings... Especially with all he will have to do after the war, how many more people will object if he chooses to pursue something like this in his romantic life. It was always going to be a matter that was protested, of course, but with all that has happened? The demand for a heir, for a symbol of safety and security will be even more pronounced.
But he still desires, nonetheless. And if they are still alive, then... Is it not worth trying?
Something seems to shift in Sylvain's gaze, like the light of the sun revealing how deep the ocean truly is. Festival light, showing the depths in him. "I was serious," he says, words awkward and hesitating only a bit. Not out of a lack of desire, but... Uncertainty, maybe. Dimitri can understand that. "I mean, I know what kind of guy I am, and the kind of things I said when my dating life was a little more lively... but I wouldn't mess with you like that." Another deep breath, as though preparing himself for some sort of battle. "If you still really want me, then I really want to stay. But I really will break up with you, if that's what you feel is right too. I know... the amount of responsibility you've gotten has only grown, and it was pre-tty big to start with."
Yes... Dimitri supposes that's true. His responsibilities have, impossibly and without any desire from himself, grown exponentially. His romantic life matters all the more to people who are not personally involved in it.
That doesn't change his answer as he tilts his head towards Sylvain and says, "From what I understood, Sylvain, you are not permitted to break up with me until you have taken me out on a proper date... and you have yet to do so since you made that statement, haven't you?"
For just a moment, Sylvain stares at him, and then he ducks his head, chuckling. "I guess that is what I said, isn't it?" he says, straightening up with a smile. He holds his hand out to Dimitri, looking radiant in the festival light. "Well, if that's the case, I ought to take you on a proper date right now. Best to do it while we're still thinking about it... although I think I might skip on the breaking up part of the whole idea."
Most of the celebrations are taking place down in the city itself. That makes it almost criminally easy for Sylvain to slip away the King of Faerghus away from all the people and festivities. There are a few with similar ideas - not with the king of a country, exactly, but certainly those who wish to steal away some more private time. Yet if any of them recognize who Dimitri and Sylvain are, eyepatch and red hair quite notable, well, no one says anything. They're left free and unbothered as they make their way through the streets, down to the docks and, eventually, the shoreline.
Fhirdiad is near the water itself, but the waters there seem almost completely different from what is here in Derdriu. They seem softer, warmer, although that's honestly not as much of a surprise as Dimitri supposes it should be.
Despite the fact that sand is almost guaranteed to get into every little nook and cranny of their clothes, Sylvain tosses off his boots almost the second they're down along the shoreline, and laughs a little bit. "You know, I was taken to Derdriu ages ago for some noble nonsense thing my parents were doing," he tells Dimitri over his shoulder, as the two of them look out onto the shimmering ocean. There, the moon and its double stare at each other, and the world feels strangely lighter even though it is the dead of night. "I always kind of wanted to come back. I never thought it would be like this, but with how the night is ending up, this isn't all that bad either, you know."
Dimitri agrees, honestly, although he's never been to Derdriu before. It was something that was meant to happen when he was just a little bit older and when his father was still alive - a tour of the different neighboring countries, so that he could see the way different people lived and how the different politics played out. When his father had died, well. That had never really happened. Too many things became important, more important than a little tour.
Would it have changed anything? He supposes not. Still... Dimitri glances down at himself, at the borrowed clothes he's still wearing instead of the armor he thinks he's kept steadily on for five years now. "It would be nice," he admits, "if we could visit again when this is all over, and with no arms or armor."
A peaceful visit, not marred by bloodshed or ruined cobblestone or the loss of friends that they still could not prevent, even with the entire plan going off as well as it did.
Sylvain is nodding, when he looks up, his gaze distant as he looks towards the moon. A quieter source of light, than the brilliant golden glow of the celebrations. "Well, when that happens, we'll really have to dress up," he says, as Dimitri comes to join him. "Wouldn't want anyone to think we aren't taking a visit seriously. Gotta gussy up."
"I would be happy in the clothes of a pauper so long as I was here with you," Dimitri says, and brushes his hand against Sylvain's. Is he allowed to so much as dare to do this? He has no idea, but Sylvain doesn't seem to mind as their hands join together. "I need not the extravagant garb of visiting royalty... and, honestly, it would all be tiresome to deal with anyway."
A laugh bubbles out of Sylvain's throat, and he bumps their shoulders together. When did Dimitri get tall enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with Sylvain? It feels strange to think about. "And you sounded so romantic for a second there, too," Sylvain teases him. "Although I agree we could do without all the fuss."
Of course, both of them know that it's not likely that they'll be able to visit Derdriu in casual clothes, if that day can ever come. Even for a margrave, it would be expected for him to dress up in proper clothing befitting his station. And with Dimitri there... Well. Either way, it is a nice thing to dream about. Nice enough to just get lost thinking of, as the two of them slowly start to move down along the shoreline.
"With Fhirdiad taken, and Derdriu safe as the Alliance is absorbed into the Kingdom, then the war is probably going to be over soon, huh?" Sylvain says, while Dimitri combs the beach with his gaze just in case. Best not to step on a sharp rock or shell. "I mean, theoretically, it could go into another years long stalemate, with the Empire playing it safe and holding back now that we're clearly on slightly more even playing fields... but I don't think Edelgard is the kind of woman to play that way."
No... She isn't. If she were that kind of woman, that kind of emperor, Dimitri supposes they wouldn't be in this situation to start with. "I won't let that happen either," Dimitri says quietly. "If I can make it so that no more blood is spilled, and this entire thing does not go on any longer... Then I will."
Sylvain just nods. "I know you will," he tells him, and then smiles. "Hey, when we finally finish all of this... Let's go out again. We can go in the forests for a ride, or whatever you like."
"Will we really have the time for something such as that, when there will be so much to do after the war?"
"Don't worry, I'll make some time in your schedule." Stopping where they are, Sylvain turns to face him with a smile. "It's exactly like I used to tell you all those years ago, back when we were in school - you need to relax and find some nice things in life. Be happy."
Dimitri doesn't think he really deserves happiness after all he's done... But maybe it doesn't matter what he thinks on that matter, not right now. Instead, as he looks at Sylvain's smile... He can't resist leaning in towards him, their hands cradled in one another's. "Then, so long as we both make it out of this alive," he murmurs, "I will try to be happy." And he kisses him, gently and tentatively, along the corner of his mouth.
Underneath clear and free moonlight, Sylvain shows him how to properly do it.