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“Dimitri?”
“Y-yes, Professor?!”
He startles when he sees you, immediately stiffening his back as if a dog ecstatically perking up and wagging its tail when it senses its owner coming. His friends immediately start to snicker behind him, amused by his overeager reaction. Even Dedue, his most loyal (and stoic) follower, visibly rolls his eyes. Dimitri’s pale face begins to redden into a motley array of bashful pinks and reds, warm shades that brighten the blue in his eyes even more. Despite his embarrassment, he maintains steadfast eye contact with you.
“I have a request for you,” you ask politely, remaining cryptic in your neutral tone since you had an audience. “If you wouldn’t mind accompanying me off campus for the remainder of the afternoon?”
If Dimitri holds any suspicions as to why you’re suddenly whisking him off the grounds, he doesn’t show them.
“Of course, Professor! Consider it done. I am ready to depart whenever.” His fingers twitch at his side as a tell-tale sign of the strain it takes him to not salute you.
“Consider it done,” Sylvain mocks, immediately garnering hushed giggles amongst the class of Blue Lions. Dimitri can no longer quietly take the blows to his ego and whips around.
“Do you have something you’d like to say, Gautier?!” he demands, attempting to sound authoritative. The chill in his tone almost works on them… before his voice cracks.
“No, sir! It’s pretty obvious by now, we think! Sir!” Sylvain’s salutes are exaggerated and clearly fake, accompanied with an insufferable wink. Dimiri’s scowl deepens, somehow.
“Let’s go,” you hurriedly offer in order to bail him out, though your lips betray a subtle smile. Dimitri is so loved by his followers. The strength of his leadership becomes readily apparent when they feel comfortable enough to poke fun at their leader like this. Dimitri is almost too easy to tease.
After all, you—his professor—are no different than your students when it comes to teasing the young prince.
Dimitri’s gullibility combined with his stark loyalty is why you were certain that he would obediently follow you out into the forest on horseback, alone, with only shaky reasoning as to why. Poor, sweet Dimitri. He didn’t question your orders at all, happily saddling your horses from the stables and following behind you.
He chatters about everything and nothing at all behind you as the two of you ride single file along the path. You notice he keeps measured pauses in between his words. It’s as if he’s already thought of what to say next and has a queue of statements, trying to time spaces of silence in between points—but keeps failing to actually remain quiet. You humour him and allow him to prattle on, answering when you should, ensuring that your back is straight in his view. Your dark hair and hips sway in time with the horse’s trot.
It’s quite some time later before you’re satisfied that the two of you have ridden out far enough to a point where nobody will disturb you. The only sounds to be heard are the chirps of fauna and wind coarsely whistling through the greenery above in the thick boreal. The air is much sweeter here outside of the bustle of Garreg Mach, and the quiet brings about a sense of tranquil peace.
“Let’s rest here for a moment,” you say abruptly, slowing your horse to a stop in a more spacious meadow patch tucked in between the overgrown wilderness.
“Ah yes; good idea, Professor. It’s quite hot and humid out. Best to conserve our strength.”
It’s adorable how hard he keeps naively trying to make sense out of your nonsense.
“You’re a good boy, Dimitri,” you decide to say aloud in a soft voice once he finishes hitching his horse to join you in the lush patch of clover you’d found. You spread out your cloak beneath you, allowing your summer outfit to accentuate your features as you carefully unrobe yourself. Dimitri’s smile falters for a moment as his eyes drift down to your chest before, in a frenzied panic, they snap back up to your eyes.
“…might you be cold, Professor?” he asks meekly, frozen awkwardly mid-squat, too shy to sit next to you all of the sudden. His voice is husky and thick. He has an emotion stuck in his throat that he can’t seem to hide no matter how hard he tries.
“If you’re worried about that, then perhaps you ought to help me warm up.”
Dimitri swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple nervously bobbing in his throat like a float lost at sea. His eyes flash as if with an idea. He quickly unbuckles his navy blue cloak, dropping it around your shoulders. Bewildered, you can only sit there as he bundles you back up, undoing your hard work.
“There,” he says, satisfied, and finally sits down beside you in the greenery. He immediately plops down onto his back, spread eagle in the flowering clover field. You’re a bit disappointed that he had misunderstood what you meant by ‘helping me warm up’, but then again, you shouldn’t have put it past Dimitri to miss romantic cues. You lie down beside him, looking up at the tree branches and streaks of blue that peek through the verdant foliage. Branches wave gently in your vision, dancing with the wind.
“It’s so quiet out here… and peaceful. It’s almost like I can pretend there’s nothing going on. That it’s just… you and me, and that’s all that matters. I don’t think I’ve felt this relaxed in a while, to be honest. Something about your presence makes me feel so oddly… safe.”
It’s the way in which he rambles, trailing off after each thought, that you know for certain that the young lord is speaking to you directly from his heart. Suddenly, he turns his head to look at you, and your heart jumps at the softness in his gaze.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I… appreciate you, Professor.”
“I feel the same, Dimitri.”
Though he was the person to say it first, you see him flush with warmth, the bridge of his nose and tips of his ears suddenly much redder than you remember them being. With a small smile, you figure it’s time to come clean.
“I suppose I should tell you why I asked you to come out here with me.”
The two of you watch the same clouds drift across the reflections in each other’s eyes. You look at yourself mirrored back at you like Narcissus peering into those pools of water, reaching so hard that he may fall in and drown. You catch the feelings on your own face in the image of his softened expression. His eyes dart between the two of yours, searching for answers.
“…yes?” he shyly prompts in your sudden silence. Though there isn’t anybody around for kilometers, he whispers to you in a hoarse voice.
“I was feeling selfish… and I wanted your company for myself for a little while. I thought it’d be good for you to slow the mind down and not have to worry for once. We’ve been in the war room non-stop this entire moon, preparing for the attack, and you’ve been mentioning that your headaches were worsening. I thought you deserved a break away from the eyes of others.”
Dimitri’s eyes widen with an unreadable emotion as you give him a bashful smile. He clearly wasn’t expecting that. To your surprise, his eyes quickly become glossy, like deep twin pools filling in with a riptide. He’s tearing up.
“Professor… I… honestly, I don’t know what to say.” He chuckles at himself helplessly, clearing his throat as if that might hide the fact that he’s obviously about to cry. The weight of ghosts and future demise on his shoulders—how could that not take a toll? Your heart aches for him.
“Then say nothing. I only want you to be at peace, if not for a single hour.”
The relief on his face is immeasurable. The mask seems to slip, and you catch a glimpse of the sheer exhaustion he hides from his comrades. Quickly, he turns his gaze back to the sky, but the gauntness you saw lingers in your mind. The two of you lie in silence for a while, listening to the rise and fall of each other’s breaths and the chirping of songbirds. You aren’t sure of how much time passes before you realize that his breaths have become louder and shorter in rhythm. Sure enough, when you glance at his face, Dimitri’s eyes are closed and he appears to have dozed off.
You sit up slowly so as not to disturb his rest. Without the concerned wrinkle in his brow, or the serious expression he seems to force himself to adopt, he finally looks at ease. He looks like a regular young man: carefree and boyishly handsome. You lean forwards, noticing a piece of white dandelion fluff that had flown into a lock of his fine blond hair. Carefully, you reach to pluck it out with your fingers.
But you had forgotten that, like you, Dimitri had undergone arduous training that kept him alert for danger even while asleep. He woke with a jolt, grabbing your wrist by what looked like a soldier’s instinct. You gasp, partly due to shock, and partly due to pain. His grip immediately loosens when he realizes it’s you, but you can feel the imprint of where his fingers wrapped around your flesh throb hotly.
“Oh, Professor… m-my apologies, I didn’t mean to—!” He’s totally discombobulated, confused as to how he’d fallen asleep, confused as to how he’d woken up, and he trips over his words as he struggles to sit up.
“It’s okay,” you reassure, trying to calm him down. “Shh. Be still. It’s okay.”
You don’t move from where you had been positioned while he was asleep. Your chest is still draped over his, lightly touching the front of his cold metal breastplate, your hands planted in the long sweetgrass on either side of his reddening face. Your thighs are splayed out beside his body from where you’d been lying on your cloak. The ends of your hair are grazing his face as you look down, but he doesn’t seem to care. He stares up at you dumbfoundedly, still propped up on one arm. It’s sweet that even after witnessing the horrors of battle, he still gets this flustered so easily.
The emotions you’ve been trying so hard to bury all seem to swirl in at once, mixing and clashing in your chest, making it burn with heat. Your heart thuds in your chest. Lub-dub. Your mouth’s so dry. One-two. It feels like there’s a hummingbird trapped in your ribcage. Being honest suddenly feels like a task more insurmountable than facing a losing battle; but it’s something you feel like you have to do. You steel your nerves with a deep breath.
“Dimitri?” you finally manage to say in a low voice that makes him shudder beneath you. You feel his movements in your own body.
“Y-yes?” he croaks, eyes flitting to you and then past you, unsure of where he’s allowed to look. Suddenly, you feel just as nervous as he does, and have to bite your tongue to maintain your resolve as you lean in just a hair closer.
“Can I kiss you?”
He chokes on his breath, eyes finally unable to lock onto anything else but you. You patiently wait for his permission.
You know you shouldn’t overstep. You had already decided you’d respect his boundaries no matter what. Though you were close in age, you were still his professor and he, your student. But, titles aside, you had an undeniable attraction to the loyal knight-prince of the frozen Holy Kingdom. You always did, ever since meeting him by chance that fateful day. It felt like you were inexplicably drawn to him. Fighting by his side felt wholly natural, as if you had somehow known each other all your lives. As a mercenary, you had learnt the hard way that others would happily betray your trust and that you could only ever rely on your own strength. Dimitri was different; it felt like you could always count on him to watch your back. He would not abandon you. Even if he rejected you, he would always be precious to you. That would never change.
So it bewilders you that he actually agrees to your outlandish request by the way of the world’s smallest nod.
“Please?” he breathes, his eyes trained on your lips. He’s raising himself slowly to meet you as you lower yourself, and you remember to close your eyes just before—
Two inexperienced people don’t magically get to know what they’re doing when it comes to these things, unfortunately. But it feels comfortable and safe to share the awkwardness with him. You feel like you’re allowed to be yourself, instead of this conjured image that knows all and does no wrong.
Dimitri doesn’t pull away. He keeps pressing his lips to yours again and again in a flurry, braver each time he does. He rises upwards more and more, as if to chase you. His right hand finds the angle of your jaw, fingers hovering against your skin like feathers. When you start to kiss him back more deeply, experimentally slanting your lips against his in a more intimate way, he groans into your mouth. Abruptly, he jumps back, eyes wide with apparent shame. He drops back into the grass, allowing himself to fall back in order to put space in between the two of you.
“I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“I liked it.” You cut him off before he can spiral into apologies even further. Now it feels like being honest with your feelings is as natural as breathing air. The two of you are panting for breath, chests heaving. Your heart is still pounding a tattoo against the inside of your ribs; but is that your heartbeat you feel, or his? Dimitri stops dead in his sentence, mouth agape. Clearing his throat, he speaks a touch above the wind, as if saying it any louder would make the moment disappear.
“...oh. I… I did, too.”
“So you’d say I successfully got your mind off of things for a bit?” you prod, resorting to humour to cover for how you really feel. “Do you feel relaxed, yet? Aren’t I the best professor you’ve ever had?”
His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip, and your eyes unconsciously track the movement. He breaks out into an easy-going laugh, and it’s like a breath of relief for the two of you that things haven’t been ruined.
“Very much so, Professor… [Name]. Can I call you [Name]?”
You find it endearing that he asks you only after he’s done it. He looks so eager and hopeful that you find it impossible to say no—not that you wanted to. The sound of your given name in his mouth feels like it strikes you at your core. Only the people closest to you bother or dare to call you by this name. There’s weight to it. However, if it’s Dimitri, he could call you anything he liked, as long as he called you. You’ve never felt so attached to a person before, and your lips have already curled into a smile without you realizing it.
“Of course you can. But maybe only when it’s just us. The others could get the wrong idea.”
“Mm… [Name]...” He mumbles it, more for himself than for you. For a couple of beats, the two of you share that comfortable silence again.
You don’t think you’ve ever felt this close to a man that wasn’t your father before. It’s equally terrifying and desirable all at once. He pulls you in for a light embrace, his strong arms heavy on your back as they wrap around you, gently pressing your weight into him. You match his breaths, closing your eyes, taking in his subtly masculine scent. You feel it too, what he’d felt: like the world around you has stopped, and that there is no such thing as war or peace, as the only thing of importance that ever existed was you and him together in this moment.
“Ah… we probably need to head back soon…” He trails off, unspoken words falling into the void from his lips as he does. You sit up fully, having been leaning against his chest this entire time. The sun filtering through the leaves has melted into an amber tone, meaning the sun is approaching the horizon. If you don’t start heading back to the monastery now, it will be dark before you arrive, and riding past sunset can be dangerous. As much as you want to stay here in this clover field with Dimitri forever, you can’t. Father Time cares not for the personal affairs of young lovers.
“We should.” You mask your disappointment and move to return his cloak to don your own. Before you can undo the clasp, Dimitri wraps his arms around you, and pulls you in for a hug so suddenly that you become the speechless one. With your face tucked under your chin, you can’t see his expression.
“Can we do this again? More often?” he asks, or maybe he’s begging, and his voice is so heartbreakingly soft and innocent sounding that you don’t have the heart to tease him about it.
“I would love to, whenever we have the chance.”
He buries his head into the crook of your neck, and you feel his breath heat your nape as he sighs contentedly. It feels like there is still so much unsaid, yet so much known. And that everything between the two of you has changed, yet remains the same. The two of you live together in the paradox for a second longer before finally breaking away.
The two of you return home in silence this time, both brooding in thought. Dimitri rides ahead this time and you watch his broad back. You’re not sure how you should act in front of the others anymore. Perhaps you should pretend nothing happened and that the two of you simply went out to forage, or for some other private mission. The problem is that deep in your heart, you don’t want to forget what happened. But, what if things change for the worse between you and Dimitri now? How do you move forward after something like this? Was it a mistake all along? Even as you rack your head the entire trip, you haven’t come up with anything of substance by the time the two of you return your horses to the stables.
Just like that, the night is over, and everything will have just become a memory.
“Profess… [Name].”
To your surprise, it’s Dimitri that speaks first. You’re thankful that he’s taken the brunt of the pressure and turn to face him. He stands facing you but stares at the ground, a tendon twitching in his tightened jaw.
“I know it isn’t a great time right now, not with the war and everything… but… you… mmgh. I just want you to know that you are very important to me.”
He struggles to get the words out, wringing his hands. You reach out instinctively and place them over his, untangling his fingers. They’re cold in your hands, so you warm them by sandwiching his huge palms between yours. He watches you wondrously until you look up and smile, hoping to convey everything you’re too unsure to say with your expression.
“You’re very important to me too, Dimitri. Some day, when this war ends… perhaps then, we can cloud gaze every day without a care in the world.”
“I would like that very much.” His voice breaks as he whispers it to you, betraying how desperately he wants (needs?) it to become true. You squeeze once before finally letting go and stepping backwards. You finally hand his cloak back to him, which he takes with a forlorn expression, hugging it into his chest like he would a person.
“Sleep well tonight, Dimitri.”
“You as well, [Name].”
You turn and leave to walk back to your quarters, which is opposite the student dorms. You can’t help yourself from turning back to take one last look, though, only to see that Dimitri hasn’t moved from where he was standing. His hair looks white under the moonlight, gold woven into silver. He somberly raises a hand to wave you goodbye, though the yearning smile on his face looks genuine. You tear your gaze away and turn, knowing that if you look at him any longer, you might run back to him.
It’s about a week later when you find a piece of folded parchment paper on your desk after class. Things have returned to relative normalcy, but the march on the enemy commences tomorrow, and tensions are running at an all time high. There hasn’t been any time for romance since your private tryst. You and Dimitri maintain a professional rapport like before, but the two of you are too occupied with other pressing matters to even talk for more than a few minutes at a time. If not for a knowing glint in his eye, it would be as if nothing happened at all. You can’t help but miss him. You wonder if he feels the same, or if you’re the one being pathetically lovesick.
Confused, you examine the paper. There’s no writing inside, but a delicately pressed clover flower slips out. You recognize it immediately, its pink and white hues framing Dimitri’s face as he leans in to kiss you in your memories.
Though nothing was said, everything was heard.