Chapter Text
It had been hard not to be distracted during the battle, knowing that Dimitri was fighting just off to his side. Five years. Finally seeing him again makes him feel light and heavy at the same time. This is Dimitri, but it’s not the same Dimitri he set free all those years ago.
Dimitri pulls him into a hug after the battle is over, and then lightly cuffs him around the back of his head. “Do not ever do that to me again,” he says, tears in his eyes, and Dedue promises, although he isn’t sure that it’s one he’ll be able to keep.
He expects that things will be awkward, at first. It’s been five years. Everything is different. But when Dimitri lets go from the hug, he offers Dedue his hand, as if no time at all has passed since their last night together, lovemaking tinged with fear and regret. It’s been five years, and Dedue still wakes some mornings expecting the warmth of Dimitri’s body to dip the bed beside him. Still expects to be woken with gentle kisses and gentler hands saying all the words he could not allow himself to say. The thought that it might be the same for Dimitri is staggering. He wants to reach out and wipe the stray tear from Dimitri’s cheek, but he just clutches his hand through their armor and looks away, tugging Dimitri along to follow the group back to their base.
The roads they walk are familiar; Dedue is not surprised to see the monastery come into view, merely that it appears as whole as it does. He expected it would still be a ruin, perhaps being used as a makeshift camp. Instead it’s almost as though nothing ever happened to it.
Dimitri has been quiet as they walk, and Dedue has appreciated the silence. There is much to be said, but he is not a man for whom words come easily. No matter how long he spent dwelling on their reunion, nothing had prepared him for the way it would feel to look into Dimitri’s bright blue eyes again. To hear the shocked hope in his voice as he asked Dedue if he were truly alive. To feel his arms around him again, the warm weight of him pressed against him… he was not prepared for how much it would hurt, to have him back. He’s gotten used to the empty feeling in his chest, and having it filled again is overwhelming.
Dimitri tugs on his hand before they make it very far into the monastery, and pulls Dedue aside into an alcove. He doesn’t look at Dedue’s face as he speaks. “There is… something you need to know. Someone you need to meet.”
Dedue frowns. Why is Dimitri holding his hand, if he has taken another lover? Does he intend to break off this relationship to be with Dedue? Neither is a pleasing thought.
Dimitri glances up at him and his mouth pulls into a sad half-smile. “I hope you’ll get along. I think it will be easiest to just show you rather than try to explain, and I don’t want to keep her waiting. Will you come with me?”
As if Dedue would ever say no to that question, uneasy as he is. He nods, and Dimitri pulls him along towards the dormitory. Instead of heading upstairs, however, he leads them to what Dedue is surprised to see is his own former bedroom.
“Let me go in first,” Dimitri says, a note of anxiety to his voice. “I’ll come back out for you.”
Dedue nods, and Dimitri takes a deep breath, glancing at his face and away once and then twice, before suddenly leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“I’ll be right back,” he says. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Dedue is very confused, but this is not the time to demand explanations. He nods again, and Dimitri flashes him a tight smile before unlocking the door and stepping inside.
Dedue can hear some noises like people talking: a woman’s voice, and a child’s? He tries not to think about what that might mean. It does him no good to spiral into hypotheticals when the answers will be presented in short order. Why would Dimitri kiss him before going home to his wife and child? What sort of reception does he expect Dedue will have?
A few painful minutes later, the door opens. Instead of Dimitri, Dedue recognizes the uniform of one of the monastery servants. The woman bows her head at him and heads off, leaving Dedue staring at the partially open door behind her.
“You can come in,” Dimitri calls, and then, softer, “It’s okay, don’t be scared.”
Dedue is not certain why he would be scared, but as he steps through the door he realizes the second sentence was not meant for him. Dimitri is sitting on the edge of the bed with his armor off, and in his arms is a young girl. She has brown skin and pale blond hair, and she’s staring at Dedue with the same gray-green eyes he inherited from his mother, wide and wary of this stranger her father has brought home.
He understands now why Dimitri did not explain. The explanation is unambiguous, and he would have—he is not sure what he would have done. He is not sure what there is for him to do. He’s rooted to the spot, throat tight and eyes watering. The ache from earlier is nothing compared to this, compared to knowing he left Dimitri to go through this alone, on the run, not even knowing that Dedue had loved him. Not knowing that Dedue would have given anything to have what he sees before him.
Dimitri’s expression is cautious, like he’s still not sure that this is something Dedue wants. Did he know, when he was waiting for his execution? Did he not tell Dedue because he thought he was going to die, or because he thought Dedue would want him to terminate the pregnancy?
Dedue blinks, and feels the tears overflow his eyes and start to run down his cheeks. He swallows around a sob, and looks down, trying to work on the fastenings of his gauntlets so he can at least wipe his eyes. He should not be meeting this child in his armor. He should have met her in plainclothes, when she was too small to listen when Dimitri set her down and told her to wait on the bed. He should have held her when she was small enough to fit in his hands, while the healers cleaned Dimitri from her birth.
Dimitri comes to him now and gently—so gently, he does not deserve gentleness like this, not when he has wronged them so thoroughly—helps him remove the armor from his hands, and then he unwinds the scarf from Dedue’s neck and helps him with his breastplate, and then the rest of it. It’s almost as if he knew what Dedue was thinking. Dedue wouldn’t have put it past him if he had.
Dedue feels bare in stocking feet and a sweater, but it’s better than the armor by far. When Dimitri takes his hand now they can touch skin to skin, and Dedue can pull him properly into his arms and crush him close without stiff metal in the way. He’s crying into Dimitri’s hair, but there’s no help for that. Their daughter is watching them from the bed, and he had not even known she existed.
Their daughter. Dimitri’s daughter. His daughter.
Dimitri’s eyes are wet too when Dedue straightens up to look back at the little girl. She’s staring at them, eyes enormous in her tiny face. Children are so small: she must be four years old now, and she still would not come to Dedue’s waist.
Dedue swallows and glances back at Dimitri. “What is her name?”
“Dara,” Dimitri says, taking his hand again and rubbing it with his thumb. “I thought—I wanted her to know her heritage.”
It’s his mother’s name. Dedue is not sure that he would have chosen to make his child bear that legacy, but the fact that Dimitri, believing Dedue was dead, would want to honor her memory thus makes another flood of tears cascade down Dedue’s cheeks.
“Daddy,” Dara says, creeping forward on the bed. “Why is the man crying?”
Dimitri laughs, and the sound of it is thick, like he’s not far from tears himself. “This is your father, Dara. He has wanted to meet you for a very long time.”
“But you’re my father,” she says.
Dimitri smiles and takes a step towards her, pulling Dedue along. “Yes. You’re very lucky in that you get to have two fathers. Isn’t that nice?”
“He doesn’t look very nice.”
“Dara,” Dimitri says sharply. “Don’t be mean. Dedue is big and strong, but he is very nice.” He looks up at Dedue, who is so used to this reaction that he can’t even be surprised. Of course his own daughter would be frightened of him. “Come closer, and kneel down. Talk to her.”
Dedue sits on his heels at the edge of the bed and waves a hand at her as he has seen people do with small children. “Hello, Dara. My name is Dedue. I am from Duscur, like you.”
Dara peers at him suspiciously. “I’ve never met anyone from Duscur before. Daddy says it was destroyed by bad people.”
“Yes,” Dedue says, feeling Dimitri come to stand behind him and rest a hand on his shoulder. “It was. Most of our people died, but your father saved me.”
“Because he loved you?”
Dimitri makes a choked sound. Dedue wonders what she has been told of their relationship: is this conjecture based on other families she knows, or based on stories? Dimitri must have told her something. “He did not know me yet. We fell in love later, after he brought me to live with him in his home.”
“But if you love him, why haven’t I met you before? Don’t you want to be with him? I hate it when he goes away.”
Dedue swallows. He is not sure he appreciates saying these things first to someone other than Dimitri, but he will not lie to his daughter. “I do,” he says. “I hate being parted from him, as well. But he had to leave his home to keep you safe, and I did not know where he had gone. I have only just now found him.”
“Why didn’t he tell you where he was? He gets sad when he talks about you.”
“I didn’t know he was alive, sweetheart,” Dimitri says. “I’ve told you that before, that your father died to save us.”
“But he didn’t die,” she says, gesturing at him. “He’s right here!”
“But I didn’t know that,” Dimitri says again.
“And I did not know how to reach him to inform him that I had, improbably, survived. By the time I recovered, there was no evidence of you in the kingdom. I searched.”
“I had to disguise myself,” Dimitri explains. “You know how Faerghus can be about people who are… different. Once I started to properly show, it wasn’t safe to be… myself.”
Dedue turns back to look at him, shocked that it would have come to that. He imagines Dimitri living on the streets, begging for charity for himself and his unborn child, forcing himself into dresses and skirts so that he would not be shamed as some sort of freak of nature. It must have been unbearable. He must have wanted Dara desperately.
Dimitri gives him half a smile and shakes his head. Obviously this is not something to get into at this moment, or possibly ever in front of Dara, but Dedue’s heart aches for him.
“But everybody else came and met us here,” Dara points out. “Didn’t you know about the re-onion?”
“I did not know the reunion was still going to take place,” Dedue explains. “Nor was I certain Dimitri would attend if it did. I heard a force of the Knights of Seiros was standing up to Imperial troops nearby, and I thought the least I could do was lend them my support. I did not know you two would be among them.”
“Are you and Daddy gonna get married now?”
Dedue looks back up at Dimitri, unsure how to answer that. Dimitri looks just as uncertain, so he says, “I don’t know. I do not know if such a thing is possible for us. But I do want to be here for him, and for you, however I can be.”
Dimitri lets out a shaky breath, and he’s suddenly leaning much more heavily on Dedue’s shoulder. “I want that too,” he says, voice rough.
“I guess you can stay,” Dara says. She reaches out and pats Dedue’s hand when it rests on the edge of the bed, then leaves her hand there, marveling. “You’re darker than me!”
Dedue laughs. He can’t help it. “Yes. But I have spent much more time in the sun than you, as well.” He turns his palm up and clasps her tiny fingers in his large ones. “You look just like my sister did when she was your age.”
“Daddy says I look like you.”
“Yes,” Dedue agrees. “I suppose that you do. Although you are much more cute than I have ever been.”
Dara reaches up to touch his face, tracing one of his many scars. “You have a lotta scars.”
“Yes. As does your father.”
She looks up at Dimitri and something serious passes across her face. “Yeah. But he’s still pretty.” She pauses for a moment, considering. “You’re pretty too. I like your hair.”
Dedue feels his mouth pull up into a smile. “I can style your hair for you, if you’d like.”
She smiles. “Really? Daddy doesn’t like it when other people mess with it, and he doesn’t know how to do anything.”
“We can fix that,” Dedue glances up at Dimitri and smiles. “Perhaps he will let me fix his hair as well.”
Dara laughs. “We should braid it like Ingrid!!”
Dimitri’s grip tightens on Dedue’s shoulder, and when he looks up at him he’s blushing, face slightly pinched.
“Perhaps something more masculine for your father,” Dedue says. “But I am happy to braid yours however you like.”
They talk a little while longer, and then Dimitri says they all need to eat dinner. Dedue is surprised when Dara reaches up to take his hand as they’re walking, along with Dimitri’s on her other side.
Children are such strange little beings. He wonders how she sees him. He wonders how she will see him after he’s gotten to spend some time with her. If he will get to spend time with her. He desperately needs to talk to Dimitri alone, but he also could not bear to be separated from Dara so soon after meeting her.
Fortunately, that proves not to be much of an issue. By the time they have finished eating, Dara is noticeably flagging, and Dimitri has to carry her back to her room. Dedue stands back and watches their evening routine, wanting to be close but not wanting to interrupt. Dimitri seems to have it well in hand, and Dedue does not know what he’s doing.
Dimitri leads him out of the room and closes the door behind them, sagging slightly with exhaustion as he does so. He stops and takes a deep breath before looking up at Dedue. “Sorry we took your room,” he says. “We can—if you want to take one of the empty rooms from someone in a different house, I am sure that can be arranged.”
Dedue looks at him for a long moment. “I was hoping,” he says, wetting his lips, “that I might share your room, if it is not too forward to suggest it.”
Dimitri makes a small noise and his gaze flicks to Dedue’s lips, there and then gone. He nods. “Of course.”
They head upstairs and into Dimitri’s room. It’s clear that Dara does not spend much time here: where her room was full of bright colors and children’s things, Dimitri’s is bare and utilitarian. Dedue wonders if this is because Dara is too small to manage the stairs well.
“If she needs me she has a stick to tap on the ceiling,” Dimitri explains, following Dedue’s gaze around the room. “I used to sleep with her, but Mercedes says she needs to learn independence.”
“I believe she is right,” Dedue says. “Although I understand your position. How you have managed to do this on your own I do not know.”
“I had to,” Dimitri says, looking down. He sits on the edge of the bed and twists his hands together. “She was all I had left of you. I had to keep her safe.”
Dedue swallows hard and steps closer, kneeling at Dimitri’s feet and reaching up to cup his cheek. “I am here now.”
Dimitri looks up at him through his hair. “You told her you loved me.”
Dedue closes his eyes for a moment, rubbing his thumb against Dimitri’s cheek. “I should have told you first,” he says, voice thick. “I have loved you since well before she was conceived. I am so sorry I did not say so.”
“I didn’t say so either,” Dimitri says. “You kept insisting that you did not want to be any closer to me than you had to be, and I did not want to pressure you.”
“I was afraid,” Dedue says. “That is no excuse. I believed that loving me would only bring you harm, and yet it is by denying you that I have caused you the most harm.”
“No,” Dimitri says. “I—this has been difficult enough. If I had known that we could have had—what I wanted to have—it might have destroyed me before I knew that I had a reason I needed to go on.”
“You did not know?”
“No.” Dimitri sighs. “I think it must have been—that last night. I was usually so careful, but I thought… I didn’t think it would matter, and I just wanted you so much… It wasn't until months later that I realized what had happened. That I had managed to keep a part of you with me after all.”
“I am so sorry,” Dedue says. He doesn’t know what else he could possibly say.
“I’m not,” Dimitri says, looking up at him defiantly. “She is my world. It has been hard, but I cannot imagine being without her.”
“You misunderstand,” Dedue explains. “I am not sorry that she exists. I am sorry that she was brought into the world under such circumstances. I should have been with you. I cannot—there are no words for the sorrow I bear that I was not.”
“I missed you so much,” Dimitri says quietly. “Every time something new would happen with her, I wanted you there. I used to—I used to talk to you, like you were there. Tell you when she started kicking, things like that. And after she was born, too: when she said her first word, when she took her first steps. I wanted… I wanted you to know. I wanted you to be there.”
“I am here now,” Dedue says again. “And I will continue to be, if you will have me.”
“I wasn’t sure you would want to be,” Dimitri says. “I remember there were times when I was almost glad you were dead, because I didn’t have to choose between keeping this from you and forcing you to be in a relationship you had made it clear you did not want.”
“I would not have abandoned you to this.”
“No, you wouldn’t have. But I would not want you to stay with me out of a sense of obligation. I knew you would blame yourself, but—I do not consider this a situation for blame. She is a blessing from the Goddess, or perhaps from one of your gods. Not a mistake that you must make amends for.”
“I cannot say that I do not feel a sense of obligation,” Dedue says carefully. “But it is the same sense of obligation that I have always felt, to keep you safe at whatever cost. I want to be with you because I love you. Because Dara is my daughter, and I love her as well. I want you both. I wanted you both before she even existed.”
Dimitri’s eyes are wet with tears, and he shakes his head a little bit.
Dedue leans forward and touches their foreheads together. “I love you,” he says, for once feeling like he knows what to say. “I have loved you for nearly nine years now, and I am so proud of you for raising Dara so well on your own.”
A sob works its way out of Dimitri’s throat, and he slumps forward into Dedue’s arms, burying his face in his shoulder and crying. Dedue reaches up and holds him as close as he can, chest aching. He has never been more torn between joy and misery in his life. He did not think such an abundance of feeling was possible.
Slowly, Dimitri’s breaths calm and his tears slow. He keeps his nose pressed against the collar of Dedue’s sweater for a long time after he’s stopped crying, just breathing. Dedue cannot say he does not feel like doing the same. It seems scarcely possible that this is real, that they are finally reunited after all these years. It must be even stranger for Dimitri, to finally not be alone in this task designed for two.
When Dimitri finally lifts his head, he still doesn’t go far, resting his cheek against Dedue’s. Dedue turns to press a kiss against it, and Dimitri shifts to catch his lips with his own.
The kiss is soft at first, a gentle homecoming. It has been five years, and they have to learn the shape of each other again.
Dedue could have spent hours simply exploring each other’s mouths, but after a while, Dimitri shifts forward, pressing into the kiss urgently. He leans into it with such intent that Dedue starts to overbalance, and he has to break away lest they both end up on the floor.
He keeps a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder and nuzzles their noses together. “I love you,” he says. “Dimitri.”
Dimitri makes a strangled noise and kisses him again, hard and fast and messy. He leans back after only a moment, panting, and stares at Dedue with wild eyes, hair sticking up in a messy halo. “Goddess,” he says. “I love you so much. I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I am here,” Dedue says, reaching out to touch his cheek. “I’m here.”
Dimitri swallows hard and nods, glancing away. “Dara wakes up early,” he says. “And we have had a long day. We should consider going to bed.”
Dedue sighs. He knows there is so much more that they need to discuss, but there is no way to catch up on five years worth of missed experiences in one evening. Dimitri is right: they should rest. They are not teenagers any longer.
He stands and takes a step away from the bed, pulling his sweater off over his head. He hears Dimitri’s breath hitch on a gasp behind him, and he turns to see him staring, face flushed and teeth sunk into his lip.
They are not teenagers any longer, but perhaps this is too much in their blood to be ignored. Sex has been a part of how they relate to each other since they were old enough to want it, and even after all these years, just seeing Dimitri like this makes Dedue’s body burn with desire.
He makes sure he’s looking at Dimitri as he undoes the fastenings on his pants, slowly pushing them down and then stepping out of them. His cock is pressing against the fabric of his underwear, and Dimitri’s eyes are wide, fixed on the prominent bulge. As Dedue watches him, he licks his lips and swallows.
There’s little point denying themselves. They have a child together: the worst has already happened, and Dimitri does not consider it the worst at all.
Dedue steps back towards the bed and reaches for Dimitri’s hands, pulling him to his feet and then closer, right against Dedue’s front. Dimitri shivers, and Dedue reaches up to cup his face and pull him into another heated kiss, licking into his mouth as if to say mine. Dimitri whimpers and opens up for him eagerly, melting against him.
Gods, Dedue has missed this. It has been five years since he’s touched anyone like this, and while Dimitri does not feel exactly the same as he used to, it is familiar enough to call all those nights to mind. Long evenings spent learning each other's bodies, trying to discover new heights of pleasure to bring each other to. Lazy mornings full of slow kisses and warm touches. He had hated being in love, then, but he’d never been any good at stopping himself from acting on it.
He slides his hands under Dimitri’s shirt, and they separate long enough for him to get it over his head and toss it aside before crashing back together, bare chests and urgent lips. There will be time for slow lovemaking in their future (if Dedue has anything to say about it) but tonight is about finding each other again, and it will be anything but slow.
Dimitri’s hands are already working on the fastenings of his own pants, and he shoves them gracelessly down, stepping out of them and somehow—impossibly—even closer to Dedue. He presses his hips against Dedue’s through their underwear, and the feeling is so much better than Dedue remembers it being. Surely it wasn’t this electrifying before.
He pushes Dimitri backward until his knees hit the edge of the bed, and then down onto it, waiting for Dimitri to scoot back on the pillows before crawling on top of him, grinding down against him and making him gasp into his mouth as he kisses him again, and again, and again. Finally Dimitri seems to get impatient, and slides his hand into the waistband of Dedue’s shorts, trying to push them down. Dedue is happy to oblige him, lifting his hips and wriggling them down until he can kick them off. He reaches for Dimitri’s underwear at the same time, drawing his finger down him from the outside before peeling them off. The crotch of them is soaked through, tangible proof of how much Dimitri wants this, and it makes Dedue all the more eager.
Once they’re both naked, he reaches down between Dimitri’s legs and runs his fingers through his slick before crooking them up to rub him where he’s hard. Dimitri gasps and arches into his hand, hips working. Dedue moves his fingers faster in time with Dimitri’s movements, pressing more firmly as Dimitri’s breathing speeds, and it’s not long before Dimitri is gasping and shaking apart beneath him.
Dedue pulls back to look at him, then, and Dimitri is staring up at him in dazed wonder, eyes wide and very blue. It’s too much, to have this again after so long. He didn’t know how little hope he’d had left until it strikes him that he really had not believed he would ever get to see this again. Dimitri is as beautiful as he’s ever been, more so, even with all the ways time and exhaustion have worn at his face. Dedue has never been more in love.
He leans down and captures Dimitri’s lips in another kiss before collecting more slick and then stroking himself once, spreading it around. He’s close already, just the thought of getting to be inside Dimitri after all this time overwhelming him, but he’s determined to make this as good as he can. He slides a finger in first, and Dimitri is loose and open after having had one orgasm already—he’s always liked that, to be fucked after, and Dedue is more than willing to oblige him. They’d made a game of how many times he could get Dimitri to come, once, and in the end they’d both lost count and Dimitri hadn’t been able to move until the next morning.
There isn’t time to be that ambitious tonight, but he’ll do what he can.
He slides in a second finger and spends a little while fucking Dimitri with just his hand, listening as his breathing speeds. Dedue knows better than to think he’s going to be able to make this last very long, after all this time. He wants to make Dimitri feel as good as possible.
“Dedue,” Dimitri gasps. “Please, I’m ready.” A few panting breaths, and then Dimitri’s shaking hand on his cheek. “I need you.”
Dedue does not need to be told twice. He slides his fingers out and strokes himself again, slicking himself up as much as possible, and then lines up and presses in. Dimitri makes a low sound, deep in his chest, and Dedue understands the sentiment perfectly. This is how they should be, always, linked together as one being. He never wants to be parted from him ever again.
Dimitri is impatient as ever, rocking his hips up and writhing on Dedue’s cock, and it doesn’t take long for them to fall into a good rhythm. It has been five years, but it was the better part of four years before that, and they have not forgotten how each other’s bodies work. Dedue leans down and kisses him when he comes, trying to channel what he’s feeling into Dimitri’s lips.
Dimitri keeps kissing him, thrusting up against the hand Dedue helpfully offers, and it’s only a few seconds before he’s coming too, collapsing boneless onto the pillows beneath him.
Dedue shifts to the side so he doesn’t crush him, and then pulls Dimitri close with arms still weak from orgasm.
Dimitri curls up against him and lets out a soft sigh. “Thank you.”
Dedue feels a laugh rumble out of his chest, and he barely recognizes the sound. No one has ever made him feel as Dimitri does. “There is no call to thank me,” he says.
Dimitri brings a hand up to trace the musculature of Dedue’s chest, running fingers through the hair that’s grown in there during their years apart. “I do not mean just this,” he says quietly. “Thank you for coming back to me.”
Dedue shifts so he can press a kiss to the crown of Dimitri’s head. “There is nowhere else I have ever wished to be than at your side.”
“Will you really stay with me? With us?”
“I will.”
Dimitri sighs again, still softer. “I missed you so much.”
“As I missed you,” Dedue tells him. “I am lost without you.”
Dimitri twists his fingers into Dedue’s chest hair. “I thought—I didn’t think I could do it. But she was yours, and I—I had to. She needed me, and I could not abandon her.”
“You have done well,” Dedue says. “You are so strong.”
Dimitri makes a little whimpering noise and cuddles closer. “No,” he says. “A stronger man would not have kept her. The life I have given her—no child should suffer that. But I couldn’t—she was all I had.”
“You have given her as much as you can.” Dedue rubs a hand down Dimitri’s back, slow, rhythmic strokes. “That is clear. We will find a way to make her future brighter. Together.”
Dimitri shakes his head, but he shifts still closer and threads his leg between Dedue’s, worming into his warmth. “I missed you,” he says again.
“I am here,” Dedue assures him. “I am here, Dimitri. I will not leave you.”