Archive of Our Own

Dimitri had believed in the Goddess Sothis right up until the moment he’d witnessed Byleth speared through the stomach by a lucky javelin throw. He’d been turning to yell a warning to Dimitri when everything had crumbled for the young prince. He watched helplessly as Byleth had stumbled backwards and tipped off the edge of the cliff, a rare fleeting display of raw emotion on his face.

Terror.

His prayers from then on were filled with spite. Resentment.

If you exist...how could you let him die? How could you tear him from us like that?

If Byleth truly had been the Goddess’s vessel then she was long gone. There was nothing left to watch over Fódlan.

Dimitri had waited a long four and a half years, accumulating kills and scars, deaths on his hands and ghosts on his back. He’d waited for Byleth. Surely, Byleth would haunt him as well, wailing for vengeance over his shoulder. Whisper taunting questions in his ears of how Dimitri could survive when men worth ten of him met their ends for his sake.

Four and a half years of drowning. In blood, in guilt, in regret, in anger.

----

Dimitri sits on the top floor of the Goddess Tower clutching Areadbhar, back to the stone wall in a rare moment of silence within his head. He hadn’t expected the tower to still be standing.

There’s movement out of the corner of his eye, by the stairs.

His footsteps make no noise as he climbs the stairs.

Dimitri’s heart leaps briefly at the sight of mint hair before it plummets back down as he realizes he can see the stonework through Byleth’s head.

Byleth stops before him and crouches, the lines of him blurring slightly as Dimitri looks up to meet his chilling eyes, blank of emotion.

“I should have known,” he begins, voice hoarse from disuse, chest aching in a way he hasn’t felt in years. “That one day you would be haunting me as well.”

He wishes Byleth would reach his hand out, that he could meet Byleth’s hand with his own and find it solid. But he doesn’t. He sighs softly.

“You blame yourself,” Byleth states. Dimitri snarls, lip curling over his teeth, his head aching. “Don’t.” Dimitri looks back up at that, wary. “Oh, Dimitri,” Byleth’s head tilts to the side, eyes flickering with something akin to pity. “You are not at fault.”

Dimitri narrows his eye, suspicious. His ghosts have never been like this. They’ve always been clawing at him, pleading for revenge.

“What do you know, you’re dead,” he hisses.

Byleth sits back on the floor, crossing his legs under him and leaning forward to watch Dimitri.

“I know a lot, actually, because I’m…” Byleth seems to choke on his words before heaving a sigh. “I’m here now and I’ll keep telling you until you believe it. My death, your father, Glenn...none of it was your fault.”

Dimitri turns his head, determined to ignore Byleth. He isn’t sure if it’s a dream or a hallucination but he’s sure Byleth wouldn’t be like this. Byleth would tell him he hadn’t fought hard enough, that’s what the rest of the ghosts have told him.

They sit in silence for Goddess knows how long.

“He’s up here!” The voice from the stairs is familiar, laced with memories of another time, one slightly simpler but still a poison in the back of Dimitri’s throat.

Sylvain approaches with caution, Felix and Annette hot on his heels with two drastically different reactions to seeing Dimitri again. The rest follow shortly after.

Byleth flickers slightly, moving from in front of Dimitri to beside him, almost close enough for their shoulder to touch. If their shoulders could touch.

“They’re worried about you.” Byleth’s voice is right in Dimitri’s ear.

“Oh goodness, you look injured.” Mercedes is kneeling beside Dimitri. He throws her hand off of him with a snarl.

“Do not touch me.” His voice is a growl.

“If he’s going to act like a boar we should leave him here.” Felix’s lip is curled up in distaste, he ignores the immediate protest from everyone around him.

Dimitri doesn’t listen to the rest of the argument, already growing annoyed with the presence of his former classmates. They shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t be trekking into danger like this and certainly not for him.

“They’re here because they care about you. They love you and they want to help you.”

“Silence, corpse,” He hisses to Byleth, voice low enough not to disrupt the other conversation in the room.

“You can accept their help, you know. You don’t have to sit here suffering alone. You deserve to be surrounded by them again.” Byleth argues, brows furrowing, he lifts his hand as though he wishes to place it on Dimitri’s shoulder before he thinks better of it, staring at his own fingers.

“I don’t need help.” Sylvain turns around with a scowl as Dimitri’s voice rises. His head is to the side, glaring at Byleth.

“You’re the one who showed up here first to keep our promise to…” Sylvain takes a moment and a breath “To Byleth.”

“Do not say his name!” Dimitri stands, clutching Areadbhar so hard he has half a mind to worry about it snapping. Sylvain holds his hands up in surrender but his eyes go dark.

“With all due respect, your highness,” Sylvain’s voice drips with a bitter sarcasm. Dimitri almost feels like he’s been slapped to feel the receiving end of Sylvain’s unveiled vitriol. “I’m not really here to give a shit about what you want. I’m glad you’re alive and I hope you’ll join us but we’re here to push back against the Empire. With or without you.”

“With,” Byleth stands beside Dimitri, facing him. “Dimitri, please, you need them as they need you.”

Dimitri scoffs, rolling his eye as he turns away.

“If I may,” Ashe’s voice has gotten deeper in the years since Dimitri’s seen him but his eyes are the same eyes if not a little wiser. “Where is Dedue?”

“Dead.” Dimitri ignores the way everyone in the room, including Byleth, flinches. “He died in my place so I could escape.” He feels the all too familiar pang of grief ringing through his bones. He often wonders why Dedue has yet to haunt him as Byleth has taken up doing.

Ashe turns and promptly leaves the room, hands shaking, back down the Goddess tower, Ingrid and Mercedes share a look before following. There’s a heavy silence settling through the room.

“Fuck,” Sylvain hisses, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “Let’s start salvaging what we can from the monastery, we’ll set up base here.”

“We can take shifts in clearing out small pockets of the bandits. Would it be wise to hoist a flag back up?” Annette asks, looking deep in thought. “It could persuade former church loyalists to seek us out but it would also make us sitting ducks for-” She glances at Dimitri “the Empire.”

“Let’s hold off on the flag.” Sylvain crosses his arms, a finger tapping at his armor. Fidgeting, just like he used to in class, unable to sit still. “We’ll figure out what we can salvage and send word for battalions from reliable houses and territories. Once we have the forces for a solid defense we can figure out which flag to fly.” He nods to himself. “Annette, do you think you could-”

“Draft a letter to Claude asking for alliance assistance?” She finishes with a knowing look. Sylvain nods and pats her head before turning to Felix to ask if he can check the armory and weapons status.

“I must have been a pretty good teacher.” Byleth stands with his hands on his hips, chin tipped up in a shadow of pride, but there’s a bittersweet tinge.

“Will you not leave me be?” Dimitri’s voice is tired, almost as tired as he feels. Felix turns with a glare to face Dimitri, unaware of who the question had really been for.

“Fine, stay up here and rot. When you’re ready to be a human being again rather than a beast-” He spits the word out like it burns on his tongue. “We’ll be planning your war.” He turns and marches back to the stairs, Sylvain follows without a word. Annette pauses, glancing at Dimitri with such worry and sadness. Then she, too, follows them back down.

“You can’t continue to push them all away.” Byleth frowns at the place the three had vacated.

“They can’t continue to bide time on such useless endeavors.”

“Is it useless if it places a crown back upon your head? They won’t say it but a lot of this, it’s for you, Dimitri. They just want to support and help you.”

“They shouldn’t. Why can’t you be a regular fucking ghost and claw at my throat for vengence.” He can see Byleth’s shoulders deflate from the side of his vision.

“Is that what you see and hear everyday?” His question comes out as a whisper. Dimitri doesn’t answer.

----

Dimitri stands facing the caved in back of the cathedral, the rubble that used to hold a mural of the Goddess. No one speaks to him, and if they do it’s scarce a few words before they resign themselves and walk away. Byleth makes his disappointment loud and clear.

“I know you’re in a bad place but that was rude.” Byleth lays on the pew, one leg bent with the other crossed over it, foot bouncing in the air. Dimitri grunts, Byleth takes it as a response rather than a noise of dismissal. “You just gave Annette the silent treatment while she was offering you cookies.” Dimitri clutches Areadbhar and glares at the rubble harder. Byleth stands with a sigh.

“I wish you’d leave me be.”

“I can’t.

“I think I prefered Glenn and my father’s screams.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Dimitri is silent.

“Where are they now?” Byleth asks, voice much quieter.

“Gone. Ever since you began haunting me.”

“I’m not haunting you.” Byleth moves to touch Dimitri’s shoulder before his face falls along with his hand, as though he kept forgetting he could no longer make physical contact with Dimitri. “I just want to help. It’s okay to accept help.” When Dimitri stays silent Byleth steps in front of him, between him and the rubble. “I know I’ve never been wonderful with emotions but please, Dimitri. Talk to me.” Dimitri swats his hand out, a blow that would have sent a person flying, but his arm moves through Byleth’s chest like air.

“There is nothing to speak of. There is no one to help.” He turns and stomps off, cape flowing behind him. It would look regal if not for the state of the man.

----

Byleth agreed he wouldn’t ‘haunt’ Dimitri in the dorms on the condition that Dimitri attend the strategy meetings.

“I’m so glad you’ve joined us!” Annette grins at Dimitri from up near the head of the table.

“I must if I’m to get any peace in this damned place.” Dimitri growls. Annette flinches slightly but says nothing after that. She shares a look with Mercedes, a question in both their eyes.

Felix groans when he enters the room, he turns around to leave but finds himself blocked from the door by Sylvain’s arm and stern look.

“You can’t honestly expect the boar to have any input.” Felix makes a show of pulling his chair out, next to the head of the table, dropping himself into it and glaring at Dimitri. Sylvain, in contrast, takes his seat at the very head of the table without comment.

“We can use as many heads as we can get. Whether or not our prince has input doesn’t mean his presence is not valuable.” Sylvain says, righting a stack of papers.

“He’s grown so much.” Byleth sits beside Dimitri in an empty seat. Many of the seats are empty and the ones that are filled are clustered by Sylvain’s side. “Proud of him.” Byleth props his feet up on the war table.

“Alright, first item to discuss. The alliance is a little overrun right now so Claude can’t spare any back-up and we don’t have the man-power to go assist him. The empire is encroaching borders, spreading North from Rowe.” Ashe winces, looking down at his hands. “We need to decide if we’re going to make our way into Alliance territory to re-secure borders or if we should head North and take back Fhirdiad. My vote is for Fhirdiad.” Sylvain looks up expectantly. Felix, Ingrid and Annette raise their hands.

“I think we should be looking for Rhea.” Mercedes speaks with indignant confidence, staring down Sylvain. There’s no bite or hostility but she is insistent.

“I think we should be securing our borders before we go inland.” Ashe pauses, thinking over his own words. “But that also leaves us open to attack from both sides.”

“I wish Professor Byleth was here to tell us what to do.” Annette groans, sinking in her chair.

“Fhirdiad. Secure Fhirdiad and you’ll have the troops to secure the border and then you can go assist Claude.” Byleth speaks directly to Dimitri, a push in his voice like he expects Dimitri to speak for him.

“Fhirdiad.” The table looks at Dimitri in shock. “Byleth would have said Fhirdiad. Even if I want to march to Enbarr myself to put that woman’s head on a pike.” the last part is hissed out through his teeth.

“How can you say you know what he’d vote?” Felix demands, he stands from his seat, a fire in his eyes and his hands slammed on the table.

“Fe.” Sylvain’s voice and hand on his arm puts him back in his seat.

“It is what Byleth would have advised.” Dimitri tried again, knowing Byleth would never leave him alone if he didn’t.

“I’ll count it as your vote, then.” Sylvain says. “Majority rules we’ll set off for Fhirdiad in two months time. We can meet Rodrigue and Gilbert up by the border and work on a plan.” Byleth leans over to rest an elbow on the arm of his chair.

“Thank you. Please do not go rogue on them.”

Dimitri groans quietly, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, the sound muffled by the meeting carrying on. Annette gives a report on trade routes and supplies, she tells them the banners have prompted nearby citizens to seek refuge within the walls of the monastery, meaning their resources are getting tighter. Sylvain informs them a scouting group had spotted Edelgard and Hubert moving back from fort Merceus and into Enbarr, leaving the Death Knight heading their defences.

“Dimitri, hold on.” Sylvain calls out as the meeting is adjourned. Annette and Mercedes all but drag Ingrid out by her arms, saying something about relaxing for once since the war started, Ashe quietly trailing behind them. Ashe hasn’t looked at Dimitri since they were up on the Goddess tower, he thinks it’s probably for the best. Dimitri stays seated, watching Byleth’s feet swing as he sits next to Dimitri on the table. Felix gives Sylvain a look , which Sylvain sends back without a word. Felix’s hand trails down from where he’d placed it on Sylvain’s shoulder to his hand and then it’s gone as Felix turns to exit the room with one last glare in Dimitri’s direction.

“Holy shit, they’re dating.” Byleth sounds bordering on a hysterical laugh, eyes comically wide on his normally blank face. Dimitri shoots Byleth a quick glare before Sylvain takes the seat across from him.

“How are you doing?” He asks, hands folded on the table in front of him. Dimitri gives him a silent look. “Right, well, you seem to be at least a little better than how we found you.”

“The ghosts are...quieter.” He relents.

“I’m glad. We need our prince. Morale is pretty low with you in a fugue state, Dedue…” His breath wavers, like he can’t bring himself to finish the thought. “and...you know who gone.”

Byleth frowns.

“You’re all doing fine on your own.” He knows Sylvain can’t hear him but he wants to voice the sentiment regardless. “You never really needed me.” Dimitri grunts, a noise of disagreement towards Byleth that Sylvain takes as acknowledgement to his own words.

“When we take back Fhirdiad, will you be ready to take the crown?” Sylvain’s question shocks Dimitri, making him look up and look Sylvain in the eyes for the first time in years.

“I...I don’t know.” He admits.

Sylvain seems happy enough to just have gotten an answer.

----

Dimitri awakes from a nightmare, he wakes with a scream lodged in his throat, his hands clutching his cape thrown over him and an ache in his heart.

He wishes he could have nightmares about the lives he willingly took, the people he’d taken sick satisfaction in tearing apart with his bare hands. But his nightmares usually consist of two scenarios.

The first is Dedue pushing him toward the forest, eyes wild, terrified, desperate. Dedue tells him to run and Dimitri is helpless as his feet carry him off, heedless of his mind and body wanting to return for his best friend. Dimitri knows he didn’t leave like that, he didn’t escape and leave Dedue behind as such, but it’s what his guilt tells him he did.

The second is Byleth’s death. The scene was stuck in his head despite his brain warping it. Sometimes he’d catch Byleth just to watch him bleed out in Dimitri’s arms. The worst ones were the nightmares where his twisted brain conjured Byleth’s voice telling him his feelings were reciprocated right before the life left his eyes. Sometimes, Byleth asks why Dimitri let him die. Why Dimitri was so powerless.

Dimitri sits up, pressing his palms against his eyes, wincing at the sharp pain from behind the scar running through his right eye. A dull throb rings through his head, his room is mercifully dark apart from the glowing teal light from the corner. Dimitri turns with a scowl.

“I thought you said I would at least get peace in the dorms.” He hisses. Byleth is crouched down, arms resting on his legs and eyes unblinking as he stares Dimitri down.

“You called for me.” Byleth’s voice is careful. Quiet, even. Not that anyone apart from Dimitri would hear him

“I did not.”

“You did. You screamed my name and when I arrived you were thrashing and shouting in your sleep.” Dimitri pales at Byleth’s words. Sylvain and Felix would have most definitely heard him if that was a regular occurance.

“I’m...sorry.” He tries, word foreign on his tongue from disuse. The last time he had apologized had been to Dedue.

“Don’t be. Do you want to talk about it, though?” Byleth asks. He stands from his spot on Dimitri’s floor and takes a seat backwards on his desk chair, chin resting on his arms

Dimitri is seething as he sits up properly.

“I want her head.” He can see Byleth tilt his head from the side of his vision.

“Will that fix it?”

“What?” Dimitri turns to meet Byleth’s eyes. Byleth doesn’t flinch at the marred eye socket on his right side, patched shut by a nasty scar.

“Will that fix it?” Byleth repeats. “Will killing her get rid of your nightmares. Will it bring Dedue back?” His voice is soft rather than challenging, genuinely curious.

“Of course not.” Dimitri bares his teeth at the idiocy of the question. “It’s for vengeance, not some childish attempt to bring the dead back.”

“What will you do after you have her head?” Byleth tries, voice still steady.

Dimitri pauses there. He knows what the answer is, but he doesn’t think Byleth will appreciate it. He presses his lips closed in a line.

“You’re on a track for a bloody death.” Byleth is quiet but the words ring loudly in Dimitri’s room.

“I know.” He admits.

“I know you know.” Byleth sighs softly, eyes falling shut. “You know it won’t bring back your father, or Glenn, or the people of Duscur.” Dimitri opens his mouth, a biting remark prepared but Byleth holds up his hand and, strangely, Dimitri finds himself obeying the silent command. “You know she didn’t kill them, I know you know that. She was only thirteen just as you.” Dimitri notices Byleth’s hand clenched in a fist, a furrow in his brow and a dark shadow in his eyes.

“She’s helping them though, she’s sided with them.”

“Justice is necessary.” Byleth agrees. Then his face transforms, almost pleading. “But it doesn’t have to be at the cost of your life.”

“There will be nothing left for me once she meets her end.”

Byleth looks pained for a moment.

“That’s not true.”

Dimitri studies Byleth for a long moment before he lays back down and turns so his back is facing the ghost at his desk.

----

Odd shit’s been happening. Chairs next to Dimitri are shifting by themselves, not enough to draw attention, but enough for Sylvain to know that chair was not pointed that way the last time he’d looked over. Dimitri is slowly unfurling. Sylvain quite honestly thought it would take anything short of an icey slap in the face to get Dimitri back, but with each passing day he seems...more present.

Sylvain stands behind a marble column, staring at Dimitri from the shadows of the cathedral, Felix warns him Dimitri is muttering to himself but this...this isn’t muttering.

“Are you still on about this?” Dimitri hisses, the noise echoing through the empty building. There’s a moment of silence. Sylvain isn’t quite sure it is silence, though. It’s more like a light breeze shifting through the room despite the hole in the roof being long-since patched and the doors slammed shut. The flame of the candle next to Sylvain flickers.

“I’ve promised, what more do you want?” Dimitri replies to the air beside him.

Another breeze runs through the cathedral.

“Byleth, they do not want me as a king, leave it be.”

Sylvain brings his hand to his face, staring wide-eyed at the small flicker of light he sees next to the prince. A trick of the light, he tells himself as he rushes out of the cathedral.

----

Byleth knows it was only a matter of time before Dimitri snapped. Not the way he’d snapped before this war, not the way he’d snapped during the war, but a different snap. An exhausted and exasperated snap. He’s been watching Dimitri fight against Byleth pulling him back from the depths, almost like he prefered to be there, felt safe there. He’s been thrashing as Byleth hoists him up and out of the mental pit he’d made for himself. If Dimitri wasn’t going to seek help then help would find him and wouldn’t leave him alone. But perhaps Byleth has been pushing too fast...

“I cannot live like this!” Dimitri cries out. He sits at the base of the goddess tower, hands tugging at his hair. Byleth is silent as he stands in front of Dimitri. “You’re not real! Go away!” He doesn’t look at Byleth.

Byleth sits, cross-legged and hands patiently clasped in his lap.

“Must you torment me day in and day out with your presence? Your mere existence?”

“I was not under the impression you hated me so.” Byleth’s voice was a challenge. He knew that wasn’t the issue he was just going to force Dimitri to admit it outright.

“You mock me.” Dimitri sneers. The night is young but there’s no one near the cathedral apart from Dimitri and his ghost. “Why do you return to me but only like this.” He laments, holding his head in his hands like he could begin crying any moment.

“Like this?” Byleth asks. Dimitri looks up, face twisted into a miserable expression.

“Gone. It was easier when I thought I could forget you.” Byleth’s mouth hangs open.

“I do not-”

“I know you do not.” Dimitri cuts him off. “You never have. I thought I could contain it, squash it like a bug, like the men under my hands. But it just grew and got worse and then you died and it has plagued me ever since.” Byleth’s mind is racing, trying to find purchase where he can follow what Dimitri is saying. “In this very goddess tower I asked you to stay by my side forever.” He scoffs to himself. “Foolish of me to think that even I could challenge fate.”

“I am by your side now. I would have- I will do everything in my power to help you ascend to the throne.” Byleth insists. He isn’t lying. When Dimitri had asked it of him he’d been full of warmth that Dimitri would want his help and advice even after he would go and become King of Faerghus.

Dimitri looks beyond tired, dark purple circle beneath his eye and complexion all but ashen.

“I had no intention to make you an advisor.” He says, words so soft they could have been carried away by the wind had Byleth not been listening so intently. “I meant it romantically.”

“Oh.”

They sit in silence for what feels like hours, the wind picking up to a howl. It’s eerie, Byleth thinks, how he can see the wind ruffling Dimitri’s hair, but he can’t feel it on his own.

Byleth ponders their entire relationship. He supposes it wouldn’t be a stretch to consider Dimitri’s eagerness to please and constant seeking of approval somewhat of a crush.

It’s odd. He’s never considered the possibility of romance for himself. He’s never felt like a figure the Blue Lion house should actually look up to or hold up on some pedestal, but he’s also never realized he could be one of them, considered an equal in their eyes.

He reconsiders why his heart aches at Dimitri’s nightmare induced wails, he reconsiders why he was drawn back here. He was sure he’d been gone, lost to the world and destined to sit in that chillingly empty throne room of a purgatory for all time. Yet here he is, sitting before Dimitri, a man who Byleth wants nothing more than to lift the burdens from his shoulders and to see him smile his dazzling smile once again. He rethinks the pride he’s been feeling as he walks Dimitri up the baby steps to recovery, back to his old self. He thinks, maybe he’s not there for Dimitri. Maybe he’s stuck to Dimitri by his own selfish desires.

Oh.

----

Dimitri is given a reprieve from Byleth as he, Sylvain and Mercedes leave the monastery for a mission. Felix seems particularly peeved about it as Sylvain had swapped his place with Dimitri’s after the prince had all but begged Sylvain to let him leave with them.

Byleth sits across from Felix in the dining hall, the rest of the Blue Lions having gone to sleep hours ago. He knows Felix can’t see or hear him but it makes him feel a little less lonely to just be in the presence of someone familiar.

Felix picks at his food in the dim candle light, the singular candle lit throughout the entire hall.

“Stupid Sylvain, stupid boar. Hope his ginger ass likes sleeping in his own room for once.” Felix grumbles, stabbing at his chicken with a fork.

Byleth rests his face against his hand and stares at the food. He misses Ashe and Dedue’s cooking. He hears, more than feels, his stomach grumble. He figures it must be a memory response to the food here before he looks up and finds Felix glaring just past him.

“I will not be giving in to Ashe and Mercedes’ ghost shit.” He tells himself quietly, glancing around.

Byleth cocks his head. He glances at the candle, and then at Felix. With a wicked smirk he leans forward and blows the candle out.

He hears the thud of Felix falling back off the bench, the crackle of Thoron before the candle is re-lit and Felix still sits on the ground, toppled over, eyes wide and face pale.

“What the fuck.” He pulls himself back up onto the bench, eyes still scanning the dining hall but inevitably finding nothing.

“You are so easy to spook.” Byleth scoffs. Predictably, Felix hears nothing. He settles back down to finish his food, shoulders more tense than before, eyes occasionally flicking around the room.

Byleth stays long after Felix has cleared out, taking the candle with him. He sits in the dark, watching the moonlight move across the stone pathways and hedges out the window.

Byleth sits there as the sun creeps up and fills the hall with warm light. He sits there as the  cooks and bakers come in, preparing breakfast for the residents of the monastery.

Byleth stands when Ashe enters, ever the early riser of the house, hair askew and mouth open on a yawn. Ashe’s sleep schedule seems to be exactly as it was when he was a student but Byleth often finds him staring blankly into space. Once, he’d found Ashe curled up in the greenhouse, sniffling as he held a brilliant blue flower in hand.

There’s no point in sitting around with people who can’t even see Byleth, so he leaves the dining hall. He wanders around the gardens. They remain eerily silent and unkept, weeds and uneven grass popping up among the rusting tables and the abandoned stone benches. The fountain has run long since dry.

The monastery itself feels like a relic from another time, a time Byleth can’t say he longs for but...things were less complicated, less stressful.

He sits in the grass, leaning his head back to watch the clouds. He never used to do such things. He was always busy. When he was a mercenary he was always traveling, always fighting, always worried about where the next pay would be. As a teacher he was busy planning classes, overseeing training, ensuring the students were okay.

Now if he tried to hold a sword it would most likely move through his fingers as if he were made of air. Which, he supposes he is technically made of air, but the thought is discomforting.

To find himself with so much time on his hands made his skin crawl.

And, of course, that pit in his stomach that had shown up as he’d watched Dimitri head out and now could be classified as a sink-hole in the middle of his chest, caving inwards without any signs of stopping.

Byleth had never experienced romantic feelings but he has to admit this is the opposite from what he’d expected. Fantastical tales had always described love as feeling weightless, in the clouds, butterflies in his stomach. They feel more like angry wasps, a stray few even finding their way to his throat. He feels like he might be sick.

He wishes he could ask his dad about it. Why he feels like this, if it had something to do with everything wrong with him.

He looks down and watches his fingers splay themselves out, the grass doesn't part for them, he doesn’t expect it to. Nothing parts for him anymore, like the world kept spinning and life went on as it always did, like Byleth’s life hadn’t actually meant anything in the grand scheme of things. And maybe it didn’t, he thinks, if he couldn’t even stop his students from killing each other. If he couldn’t keep his house alive, if he couldn’t be there for them.

Byleth jumps as a shout is heard from the market. In a moment he’s on his feet and running. He knows if there is something wrong he can’t actually do anything but-

He skids to a stop at the sight in front of him, meeting Dimitri’s eyes over Dedue’s shoulder. Byleth stands slack-jawed at the scene. Before he can truly process it Ashe is running past him, a choked sob on his lips as he throws himself into Dedue’s arms.

There’s a storm of emotions whirling through Byleth, most - if not all of them - are refreshingly positive. But there’s the bitter ache of something else, something that envies Ashe and Dedue.

Dedue smiles, the widest smile Byleth has ever seen on the man’s face. Byleth knew Dedue’s ‘death’ had been a weight on their shoulders but he doesn’t realize how heavy that weight has been until he sees the life in the eyes of everyone surrounding Dedue, the color that seems to be seeping back into the monastery itself, as though the buildings themselves had been wilting in his absence.

The welcoming party pulls Dedue farther into the monastery, all vying for attention to tell him how much they’d missed him, how glad they are that he’s back.

Dimitri doesn’t acknowledge Byleth as he passes by.

Byleth tries to ignore the sinkhole as it opens wider, painful and looming.

----

“I was hoping you’d be gone when I got back.” Dimitri says, voice steady for the first time in years, calm in a way Byleth hasn’t known in so long. He says it as he fixes his sleeve. Byleth hadn’t even been sure if Dimitri had seen him sitting in the abandoned blue lion’s classroom.

“Gone?” Byleth asks, voice unsteady in a way he’s never known.

“Yes. I figured you’d leave me be if I-” He pauses, pursing his lips. “-came back to myself.”

His hair is tied back, stray pieces falling back into his face. He wears a billowing white shirt instead of his cloak and armor. He looks like he slept.

“Oh.” Byleth responds. It hurts, he won’t lie. Dimitri deciding Byleth was no longer needed hurts. “I can leave if you so wish.” He looks up to meet Dimitri’s shock.

“You can?” He asks. Byleth nods, trying to school his face into something neutral.

“My soul is stuck here but, I can visibly disappear if you so desire.”

Dimitri seems to freeze at that, as though he hadn’t contemplated the possibility of Byleth’s ghost being anything other than something he’d conjured up in his mind.

“Why have you stayed, then?” Byleth can’t read Dimitri’s tone but the question feels like a punch in the gut. He half expects to cough up blood in his next breath.

“I had believed I was needed.” Dimitri looks apologetic - remorseful, even.

Byleth stands before Dimitri has a chance to say anything, and takes a few steps towards him. Dimitri is staring at him with an odd look on his face, almost anxious, almost afraid.

“If you’ll allow me one thing.” Byleth raises his hand just next to Dimitiri’s jaw, close enough that he can trick his eyes into thinking they’re touching, but not far enough to glide through Dimitri’s face. He raises himself up on his toes and wishes he could truly feel Dimitri’s lips against his, instead of just imagining. “I think I would have liked staying by your side forever. In a romantic sense, that is.”

He steps back and meets Dimitri’s wide, blue eye, staring down at him.

And then he fades.

----

Byleth can’t disappear. He can only relocate himself. He slides down to sit with his back against his bedroom door, resigning himself to his new self-set prison.

He cries for the second time in his life, but he’s unsure if it counts if his tears never truly hit the stone floor.

----

Dimitri has regretted many things in his life. He’ll never be able to fix most of those things, which nag at the back of his head like a hole behind his skull that tar leaks from.

But Byleth. He’s stuck on Byleth. He regrets not being by his side in his death, he regrets not being able to prevent Byleth’s death. He regrets telling Byleth to go away. It’s been a lonely two weeks.

Was Byleth really that bad of a hallucination to be carrying around? He wonders before he thinks that yes. It’s wrong of his brain to conjure Byleth reciprocating his affections when the real, alive Byleth never would have.

It’s for the best if he moves on, if he grieves and lets go, like he’s been learning to do with Glenn and his father. He pulls his horse’s reins as Sylvain stops in front of him.

“We’ll make camp here.” He tells the group, sending word down to the battalions. They’re not far from the monastery, but they’d set out much later than expected.

It would be a long trek to Fhirdiad, to take back his hometown, his kingdom, his crown.

Dimitri hauls himself off his horse and grabs his pack. He hears everyone doing the same. It’s the first time they’ve all left the monastery at once rather than splitting into small groups to complete missions.

Dedue gives him a solid pat on the back as he passes, headed towards their archer. Dimitri smiles briefly, a real and genuine smile

Their campfire crackles amidst chatter, the sounds of pre-battle merriment. They’re not far enough in their journey to hit that line where everyone turns solemn and begins to contemplate their mortality. Dimitri looks forlornly into his dinner.

“Hey, Dima, what’s wrong?” Sylvain asks from beside him, catching Ingrid’s attention.

“Dimitri, we’re not trying to pressure you into taking back the crown, you know that, right?”

“No, it’s not that.” Dimitri shakes his head. There’s a heavy, expectant pause. “Do you believe in ghosts?” The question startles them, but Felix goes ramrod for a moment before pretending he wasn’t listening.

Sylvain laughs and runs a hand through his hair but it’s obviously fake.

“Ghosts?” There’s an odd edge to his voice.

“Not like the- the ones I thought were following me.” The last part is quiet, it’s still a lot to admit, even to himself. “Like actual spirits that are locked to a location or person.” Sylvain shares a look with Mercedes across the fire.

“Dimitri-” Sylvain starts, carefully, as though Dimitri might spook. “Who do you mean?”

Dimitri opens his mouth but is interrupted by a breathless Ashe, eyes wild and hair askew. Dedue is behind him, lungs in significantly better shape.

“Dimitri.” Dedue nods his head back from where they came. “There’s something you need to see.”

“It’s- Goddess. Fuck.” Ashe huffs out before turning on his heel and sprinting back.

Everyone is on their feet in an instant, varying faces of anxiety and worry.

They follow Dedue and Ashe into the tree line. There’s bits of rubble around the forest, moss and flowers growing over the stones, from the town that once stood here. But it’s odd. The trees are far too tall to be five years or less. The greenery seems too healthy, especially so close to the shared border.

Dimitri hears the low roar of the waterfall somewhere nearby.

“What is this that I need to see-” He stops himself as Dedue holds his arm out for them all to stop.

It’s a clearing, almost a perfect circle. The waterfall is on the other side of the green grass. There’s something immediately wrong about the clearing. The night has a light breeze but neither the grass nor leaves move with it. The shoreside part of the pond’s water doesn’t move with the ripples from the waterfall. There’s a deer grazing but it doesn’t move, it stands eerily still, everything halted from its blinking to its breathing.

A great magic emanates from the place, it sends a shiver down Dimitri’s spine.

But that’s not what has his attention.

At the center of the clearing, suspended in mid air is Byleth. Or Byleth’s body. The javelin is still through his stomach, his hand is outstretched as though he were falling, but his eyes are closed and his face is peaceful.

He hovers a few feet off the ground.

“Mercedes, go roundup every healer you can find.” Sylvain’s voice comes from behind Dimitri. Mercedes’ footsteps unfreeze him. Dedue’s hands keep him upright and outside of the clearing.

“Dimitri, we don’t know what will happen if you go to grab him.” Dedue reasons. As Dimitri struggles to move forward.

Annette takes a very careful step into the clearing, the grass shuddering before it gives way to her feet.

She pads her way along the edge to the deer.
The moment her hand makes contact with it’s back it seems to snap back into itself. It jumps with a startled cry and dashes off into the forest at the sight of humans.

“We have to wait for the healers.” Annette announces, looking at the weapon impaling Byleth.

“He’ll be okay.” Ashe is rubbing his hand on Dimitri’s back but Dimitri is cracking in millions of pieces at once.

Byleth

He’s right here

He feels like his heart is going to beat itself out of his throat. He can’t speak. He can’t think. His head is full of Byleth.

The first time he’d seen Byleth’s smile, heard his laugh, saw him cry, saw him angry. Byleth’s hand tucking hair behind his ear and how Dimitri wished for his own hand to take its place.

“Byleth.” He breathes out, more on instinct than a conscious decision.

It never occurred to him before that he had been anything but subtle, but with the way Annette holds his hands in hers, Ashe’s hand still on his back and Dedue’s hands on his shoulders, he guesses they must have known.

It feels like hours before Mercedes returns with her healers in tow.

“I have to catch him.” Dimitri says, determined. “If he’s going to wake or die he should be in my arms. Please.” He looks up at Sylvain who nods briefly.

“Alright.” He agrees.

Dimitri takes great caution making his way to Byleth, he almost feels like his knees might buckle. His hands shake. Mercedes and her healers, along with Sylvain, his own healing magic at the ready, form a circle around them.

Dimitri raises his arms, noticing how they shake and trying to school himself out of it. The moment his fingertips make contact with Byleth’s back and the backs of his legs he goes limp, slumping down into Dimitri’s arms with alarming force. Dimitri staggers but lets Byleth make a gentle descent.

His legs lay on the ground, back propped up in Dimitri’s lap and head held in Dimitri’s hands. His lips part with a stuttering breath but Dimitri finds himself shaking worse as a sickening warmth begins to spread across his legs, his hands staining red as the blood continues its flow.

“Mercedes-” Dimitri looks up in horror. Mercedes already has the healing magic in her hand, white sparkles and glowing from her fingertips as she aims it at Byleth.

Dimitri is pleading, nonsensical prayers falling from his lips as he presses his forehead to Byleth’s.

“Goddess Sothis, please. Please bring him back to me.” His tears fall against Byleth’s cheek, rolling off of his frighteningly pale face.

They’re surrounded by the white light of Heal. Dimitri thinks he even sees Felix join the circle.

“Dimitri, you have to pull the javelin out.” Mercedes tells him, voice soft. “We can’t do anything more unless you do.”

Dimitri heaves a shaky breath.

“I don’t- I don’t know if I can.” His fingers are on Byleth’s stomach around the Javelin. He’s so scared. He’s so scared he feels like he’s made of ice.

“Please, Dimitri. We can close the wound.”

Dimitri chokes back a sob as his fingers wrap around the javelin just below the blade. He stares at Byleth’s face, peaceful as death and pale as a ghost, and then he yanks.

He nearly heaves at the squelch of the blade against Byleth’s skin, at the gush of blood from the other side of the wound, at the droplets that hit his arms and face.

He slumps forward, watching white light burst from the hole in Byleth’s core. He assumes it’s knitting his flesh, spine, and organs back together but he doesn’t have the stomach to watch it.

It’s funny, he realizes in the peripherals of his mind, that he could stomach crushing men’s skulls with his bare hands, he could stomach disemboweling and putting their bodies on pikes as a warning to the next groups of bandits or empire soldiers, but he’s sick just thinking about Byleth’s healing wound.

“Please, Byleth…” he rests his forehead against Byleth’s chest. There’s no pulse, no thump of his heart to reassure Dimitri. His breathing is so shallow, so quiet. Dimitri fears his heart may stop if Byleth fails to take the next breath.

It’s a long while before Mercedes slumps over, magic spent and sweat dripping from her brow.

Everything is tentative silence for a moment before there’s a sudden and crashing thump . It seems to stutter briefly before returning in a rhythm of twos.

“Dimitri?” His voice is hoarse but no sound has ever sounded more beautiful to the prince’s ears than his own name on Byleth’s lips.

“Byleth.” Dimitri looks up in shock, eyes immediately on Byleth’s mint green eyes, finally open and twinkling with life. Dimitri finds a pitiful noise coming from himself as Byleth’s fingers brush his cheek. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to go.” He feels an overwhelming wave of relief as Byleth gives him a small smile.

“I know. I am sorry I left.” They sit for a moment, simply drinking in being able to hold the other. “Dimitri-” Byleth grimaces slightly. “My chest hurts.”

“Your...Your heart. It began to beat.” Dimitri tells him. He takes Byleth's hand in his own and cover’s Byleth’s chest with their hands. There’s a steady thumping.

“ My heart…” Byleth sounds both amazed and disbelieving. He looks back up and his face breaks into a grin larger than Dimitri knew him to be capable of. “It’s my heart, Dimitri, and it’s beating!”

“Yes, My lo-” Dimitri cuts himself off, feeling the blush on his face. It’s obvious Byleth heard anyways by the way he turns and laughs against Dimitri’s shoulder, a joyous noise. He winces, moving his hand down to his wound. “You’ll be sore for a while, I’d bet.” Dimitri tells him, covering Byleth’s hand with his own, intertwining their fingers.

“Worth it to continue to be by your side, exactly as you want me.” He speaks quietly. Dimitri feels his heart leap in his chest. The look in Byleth’s eyes tells him he means exactly what Dimitri hopes.

----

Byleth stands on the balcony, looking over the lights of the recently retaken Fhirdiad. They’d agreed to stay for a few months, recovering and accumulating forces before marching towards Enbarr. Not to mention Dimitri’s coronation. Byleth had only seen Dimitri in passing during the entire week of preparations.

The balcony door clicks open and shut before something is draped over Byleth’s shoulders. He turns to get a face full of fur and to see Dimitri smiling softly down at him.

“So, how are you feeling? Does being a King feel different than being a Prince?” He asks, turning around and leaning his back against the balcony rail.

“No, but yes all at once?” Dimitri takes another step into Byleth’s space, resting his hand on the rail, almost close enough to brush Byleth’s hip. “I can’t say I feel any different but...everything around me seems different?” Dimitri frowns, brows furrowing in thought. “People see me differently, the status of the kingdom is different. I suppose I have more power but I don't quite feel it yet.” He puzzles through his explanation. Byleth nods along.

“I think I can understand.” Byleth nods in thought. He reaches out tentatively, careful to keep Dimitri’s cloak on his shoulders as he plays with one of the buttons on Dimitri’s fancy blue shirt, gold nouveau leaves swirling up and through the hems of the garment. It makes the blue in Dimitri’s eye pop.

He can feel Dimitri staring at him.

“Did you mean it?” Dimitri asks, capturing Byleth’s hand with his.

“Mean what? I have said a lot of things.” He replies, although he has a feeling he knows what Dimitri means.

“That you would like to stay by my side forever?” Dimitri’s voice is quiet. Byleth looks up and realizes just how far Dimitri has leaned in, face inches from his own. “As my partner.”

“A business partner? Whatever am I in the business of?” Byleth asks, tilting his head. He bites back a smile as Dimitri squints at him, unamused.

“As my partner in life.” Dimitri clarifies. He reaches into his shirt and tugs at the chain. It pops off and he turns Byleth’s hand over to drop the ring on the chain in his hand. “I meant it when I said I wanted you with me, in all aspects of my life.” Byleth turns the ring over.

“Why did you want me gone so badly?” He asks after a long moment of silence. Dimitri flinches.

“I...had convinced myself I was manipulating your image in my head into reciprocating my feelings for you. It...it felt like a poorly managed grief response.” He works through the words. They sound regurgitated, even if Dimitri believes them. They must be at least somewhat from the counselor Gilbert and Rodrigue had tracked down for him. Byleth nods in thought.

“And now?”

“Now, I am hoping you will accept this ring and agree to keep me by your side for our lives.” Dimitri tells him, using his hand to close Byleth’s fingers around the ring. Byleth nods to himself before reaching under his own shirt and tugging off his mother’s ring.

“My father gave this to me shortly before he died.” Byleth says quietly. “He told me I should give it to the person I wish to spend the rest of my life with.” He looks up to meet Dimitri’s wide-eyed stare. “I think I always knew that person was going to be you. I just didn't know what capacity.” He places the ring in Dimitri’s hand before he pulls Dimitri’s ring to him off the chain and slides it onto his finger.

Dimitri stares at Byleth’s hand in awe. He lifts up his hand to inspect how the ring looks on him, green jewel glittering in the light from the fire behind the balcony doors. Byleth’s lips quirk as his eyes slide from glittering green to blue.

“I think I rather like having a ring on my finger.” Byleth tells him, nodding to his own ring in Dimitri’s hand. Dimitri blinks as though startled out of a daze and rushes to put the silver band on his finger. The purple jewel in no way matches his wardrobe but Byleth almost prefers that he’s the something out of place amidst Dimitri’s perfect wardrobe, hair and face.

Dimitri pulls Byleth against him by the waist, bending to rest his forehead against Byleth’s.

He breathes out Byleth’s name, a question sparkling his eye.

Byleth digs his fingers in Dimitri’s blonde locks, raising himself on his toes to press his lips against Dimitri’s.

And, oh.

It’s so different when Byleth can actually touch him. When he doesn’t have to imagine the contact.

Dimitri’s lips are warm, soft and slightly chapped. He makes a surprised noise before he surges forward, hands clutching his own cloak at Byleth’s back.

“Beloved.” Dimitri speaks against Byleth’s lips, the word like a prayer.

Byleth pulls back slightly, their noses still brush as Byleth cups Dimitri’s face in his hands.

“I love you, Dimitri.” Byleth tells him, the pads of his thumbs making their way across Dimitri’s cheek bones.

“As I love you.” Dimitri smiles. It’s a soft smile that turns Byleth’s stomach to mush, makes his knees weak and leaves him feeling his heart thumping against his chest.

Maybe his heart had begun to beat if only for Dimitri, he thought, amused by his own sudden romanticism.

The amusement followed him all the way back to Dimitri’s rooms and onto his bed.

“I never thought I could have this, not in my wildest dreams.” Dimitri says. He’s propped up on his elbows above Byleth, one hand snuck under Byleth’s shirt to rest on his waist and the other brushing hair back from his eyes. Byleth gives him a small smile, hands hooked behind his neck to pull him down closer.

“You’re not dreaming.” He promises. He loses himself in Dimitri’s responding kiss, letting himself melt into Dimitri’s warmth, solid and at his fingertips.

Dimitri falls asleep with his head on Byleth’s chest. He claims he likes hearing it beat. Byleth smiles a tired smile and runs his fingers in patterns over Dimitri’s scarred back until sleep takes him as well.

A new day would come, and they would walk it together, hand in hand and side by side. With Dimitri by his side Byleth was sure they could overcome anything.