Chapter Text
Ashe watched as the Professor set off from the gardens the moment he announced His Highness’ return. Mercedes, still sitting at the table with needlework in hand, turned to him with a cheerful smile. “Ashe, won’t you sit down and join us? I don’t think the Professor will be back anytime soon.”
“Thanks, Mercedes.” Ashe sank into the vacant seat and took a biscuit from the plate she proffered gratefully. He had rushed over the moment he had heard the news, knowing full well that the Professor would want to know of it as soon as possible. Annette poured him a cup of tea with a winsome smile.
“It’s funny. I used to think the Professor was so inscrutable, but seeing her rush off to greet His Highness, she’s anything but,” Annette commented with a little laugh.
“Yes, the poor Professor. She has been looking so down while His Highness has been away," Mercedes said.
“What do you mean?” Ashe asked, puzzled. The Professor had been concerned, yes, but that was understandable; they were all concerned when it came to the future king’s safety. However, the conspiratory look on Annette’s face suggested something more.
“I'm talking about her feelings for him, of course!” Annette said as if stating the obvious. To his surprise, Mercedes nodded along in enthusiastic agreement.
“Her feelings?” Ashe raised his eyebrows; this was news to him. “To be honest, I didn’t think the Professor was interested in anything like that. Romantic things, I mean.” He paused, chewing on his biscuit thoughtfully. “His Highness, on the other hand... I mean, you’d have to be blind not to notice the way he looks at her.”
“Right!?” Annette exclaimed, with a burst of excitement. “They’re pining for one another.”
“Oh, wouldn’t they make such a wonderful pair?” Mercedes sighed, a faraway look in her eyes. “And they would have the most beautiful babies,” she gushed. That startled a laugh out of him.
“Isn’t that going a bit far, Mercedes?”
“Just you wait, Ashe. You’ll see,” she insisted brightly. Annette held up a hand.
“I swear, if they aren't engaged by the end of the war, it’s our duty to intervene,” she declared, the look on her face almost scarily determined.
“I’ll help!” Mercedes chimed in, gaily. “What about you, Ashe?” He saw the expectant look on the faces of both women and caved immediately; he had no resistance to that sort of thing. Ashe sighed.
“You’re not going to give me a choice, are you?” The two women hummed in mutual agreement.
“Nope!”
-
Dimitri had promised that he had changed, but Felix didn’t trust words alone, especially not from him. And so he took it upon himself to watch the boar, scrutinising him for any indication that all wasn't as it seemed. Felix vowed he would stop him if there was any sign of him losing his grip and returning to that bloody madness. For good this time, if it came to that.
Over the months of his surveillance, Felix did begin to notice something. At first, he thought it was just his imagination, but over time there was no mistaking it: the boar was different when the Professor was around. It was subtle, a minute change in the boar’s demeanour, but it happened every time without fail.
The Professor would enter the room. The boar’s gaze would dart over to her and then away again. There would be a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth like an involuntary smile suppressed. And then, no matter where his attention was engaged, his body would turn ever so slightly until it angled towards her.
For the time being, Felix kept his observations to himself. After all, even if the boar did mean the Professor harm, he knew she could more than handle him herself. She had been there during the height of his madness and emerged unscathed; more than that, she had brought him back with her.
Felix couldn’t say what it all meant exactly, but this he could say for certain: Dimitri was more a man than a beast when she was around.
-
Dedue was walking in step with Dimitri when the prince stopped him a few paces before they reached the dormitory staircase. “Dedue,” he said firmly, “you needn’t accompany me any further. I am perfectly safe to return to my room alone.”
“It is no problem, Your Highness,” Dedue responded dismissively with a shake of his head.
“...I would prefer if you didn’t,” Dimitri reiterated carefully. Dedue could sense there was a strange tension in the prince that wasn’t there a moment ago, a nervous energy that did not sit well with him.
“Why? Is something the matter?” There was a pregnant pause.
“There is no way around it, it seems,” Dimitri sighed and in the semi-darkness, Dedue could see the beginnings of a faint flush across his cheeks. “I would prefer to walk alone because I am meeting someone tonight for… a private matter." Dedue frowned.
"For your safety, it would be best if I knew whom you were meeting. If something were to happen to you…"
"You and your overprotective streak.” Dimitri covered his face with a hand and shook his head. “You need not worry. I am meeting… the Professor.” That in itself was not unusual, but as Dedue took in Dimitri’s hesitance, his awkwardness, the blush that was now in full, he came to a realisation.
“Ah, I see. Of course, I will take my leave, Your Highness,” he said with a small bow.
“Yes, and please forget this conversation ever happened.” Dimitri did not meet his eyes, instead staring intently at the wall behind him. “Good night, Dedue.”
“Good night, Your Highness.” Dedue left the prince to walk back to his room alone, as requested. As Dedue returned to his own room, he thought back on their interaction and smiled to himself. Dedue had never seen anything like it in his friend before: Dimitri, not as a king burdened by responsibility, nor a soldier plagued by war, but simply a young man hopelessly in love.
-
It hadn’t been Sylvain’s intention to figure it out, but as someone who considered himself an expert in the art of rendezvous he knew the hallmarks like the back of his hand. And, well, the Professor wasn't even being very subtle. She was far too consistent in her timing, for one thing. Urgent matters to discuss with His Highness after midnight? Every night? It was too much to believe. And to make matters worse, she always stayed until the morning. Sylvain knew there was only one kind of business that took all night.
As much as Sylvain wanted to gossip with his fellow Blue Lions and confirm what they had all been hoping for, he decided to keep his mouth shut. He knew Dimitri wasn’t the type for casual flings, despite Sylvain’s attempts for him to consider it on more than one occasion. Whatever was going on between the Professor and his friend was probably more complicated than a standard dalliance. More than that, Dimitri deserved the opportunity to explore whatever was going on between them without the scrutiny or whispers that would surely follow.
Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't going to rib His Highness relentlessly the next chance he got. Sylvain was a loyal friend, but he wasn’t a saint.
-
Ingrid could see His Highness looked lighter these days. It was in the way he moved more freely and in the way his smile came more easily. Like now. Dimitri had actually laughed when her desperate feint had not resulted in a point but Ingrid tripping over her lance. As embarrassed as she was, Ingrid was glad he could still smile like that. It reminded her of the Dimitri she had known as a child... before everything had gone so wrong.
“You are not hurt, Ingrid?” Dimitri asked, a teasing smile still on his lips.
“Wounded pride, nothing more,” she responded wryly.
“Nonsense. Training is for practising new techniques, after all.” Dimitri held out a hand. Ingrid gripped the proffered hand firmly and he pulled her up with little effort. Standing close to his side, her attention snagged on dark blotch poking just above the collar of his undershirt. Was it a stain? No, upon closer inspection it was on his skin, something like a bruise, but not from a training weapon surely… Oh. Oh. Ingrid clapped a hand over her mouth before she could say anything that would embarrass the both of them. Dimitri gave her a strange look. “Hm? What is it, Ingrid?”
“Nothing!” She said, hastily. Fortunately, Dimitri had adjusted his clothing and the dark blotch disappeared from her view. Ingrid looked at her friend again with that new piece of information in her mind. Was that part of the reason for the change in him? If so, then she was happy for him: Dimitri deserved whatever happiness could be found. Even so, there were details Ingrid would rather not know regarding her childhood friend and future king.
Just no.
-
Manuela finished unwrapping the last of Dimitri’s bandages and checked the wound on his shoulder. Satisfied it was clean and healing well, she nodded to him. “Well, you are all clear, Your Highness. Try to avoid straining yourself for the next week or you’ll pull the stitches out and undo all my hard work.” Dimitri flexed his shoulder experimentally before giving her a deep bow.
“Thank you for your care, Professor Manuela. I feel as right as rain,” he told her, as earnest as ever. Manuela eyed him critically as he dressed himself. After months of tea time chats with Byleth, she could not help but feel protective of the other professor. A certain question had been on her mind since the end of the war and now seemed as good a time as any to ask.
"Can I speak freely with you, Your Highness? Not as your Professor, but as a friend.”
“Of course. Please speak your mind.”
“What are your plans now that the war is over? You’ll be off soon, I assume?” Dimitri nodded.
“Yes, I must return to Fhirdiad and assume the throne. There is much that needs to be done and I have put it off long enough,” he said, again very earnestly.
“And what about the Professor? Where does she factor in all this?” Manuela asked searchingly.
“Oh.” Dimitri had the good grace to look a trifle embarrassed.
“You have thought about it, haven’t you?” She prompted, archly.
“I have,” he said slowly, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Her eyes narrowed. If he was going to end things with Byleth now, after all they had been through, Manuela was going to hit him, king or no.
“And?” Dimitri hesitated.
“...I am going to ask her to marry me,” he said finally, a slow blush spreading across his face.
“Oh.” Manuela blinked, shocked into silence by the strong emotions rising in her chest. She had watched Byleth’s feelings grow from confusion to curiosity to desire to love and now her dearest friend was going to get married. Goddess, she was tearing up at the thought. Dimitri looked faintly alarmed at her reaction.
“Are you quite alright, Professor Manuela?”
“Oh my goodness, yes, I’m just so happy for the both of you,” Manuela said at last, dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. She met his eyes again, a serious expression on her face despite her teariness. “Oh, you must take care of her, you understand me? She’s special... there really is no one else like her.”
“I know,” Dimitri replied, a soft smile on his face. “I will devote my life to her care. If she agrees to have me, that is.” Manuela looked at him incredulously, hardly believing her ears. Surely he couldn’t think that Byleth would refuse him? Manuela took in the nervous look on his face and quietly despaired. Oh no, they were both utterly useless.
Before she could think of how to respond, the cathedral bell began to toll, drawing Dimitri’s attention. “Ah, I must be off, Professor Manuela. Byleth is waiting for me. Thank you for all your help,” Dimitri said sincerely. Manuela thought back to all the hours she and Byleth had spent talking about lust and love and everything in between and thought to herself, you have no idea. Instead, she waved him off with a smile on her face.
“Of course. Now run along — I know she is desperate to see you, too.” As Dimitri exited the infirmary, Manuela shook her head. She could have eased his worries by revealing how smitten Byleth was but squirming for a bit longer wouldn’t hurt him. After all, Manuela had already done all she could to bring them to this point. Declarations of love and deciding their future beyond it — that was for them to figure out.