[ Maybe it's true that he gets a certain Look when he's the center of Edelgard's attentions, and maybe he knows that, as with much of him, it can be overwhelming at times, but right here, buried in the warm safety of her neck and under the scrutiny of a pair of felines only, he should hope his own affections aren't as offending.
And if it's not, well. Her question sure does put a frown on his face. ]
Ah, this. [ He pulls away from her, the line between his brows more visible as he circles the couch. ] I imagine it is meant to be an emulation of snow, though it is disappointingly warm. The temperature outside has certainly not dropped whatsoever, either.
[ Which makes for an unhappy Faerghan, but things are what they are. Still, as he joins her on the cushioned seat -- always careful so to not startle the cats, of course -- he realizes there might be a brighter side to this. ]
On the other hand, it should be comfortable enough for you to face it without so many layers. [ Wait, that almost sounds like innuendo, but it's not that sort of invitation. ] How would you feel about skating together?
[ He wonders if she recalls having joined him once before, all those years ago. ]
[ His face. From touched by her sentiment to disappointed by snow that isn't cold, barely a moment wasted. Yes, she imagines that to him snow without its frigid bite is a personal slight.
As he sits beside her, Shadow's eyes blink open, all trace of sleepiness gone. One paw r e a c h e s with luxuriant slowness to brace on Dimitri's arm: he may be content where he is but his eye is upon you, Dimitri.
But in this case Dimitri's near innuendo is completely innocuous, if only because she remembers needing to bundle up so much against the Faerghan cold when she was there. ]
It may be like teaching me all over again. [ His hands clutched in hers, her legs wobbly but her heart stubborn. It has been quite some time. ] But I think it will be fun.
[ Ah, the ever alert guardian kitty, of course. Dimitri may not be Shadow's favorite person, but at least their time together under the same roof has warranted him the chance to try a (cautious) scratching of ears in fond greeting-- without a single biting incident, even! Who would have thought!
Yet, his progress with the cat pales in comparison to the long road he's walked with Edelgard, from showing up unannounced and uninvited at her doorstep -- a memory made all the more vivid thanks to their feline companions -- to having a home to call theirs, even if only temporarily. Idly, he wonders if she enjoys it as much as he does, or if he's imposing on her with his prolonged stay long past his recovery, but... perhaps just for now, he can be selfish and push that topic further into the future, enjoy domestic bliss at her side for one day more. ]
I would be happy to teach you all over again, El. [ As though reinforcing his point, he takes both her hands in his, his fingers hooking under hers in a solid grasp, as gentle as the boy from years ago, but with much more practiced strength. ] And much as I did back then, I swear to never let go of these hands.
[ The kiss he presses to her knuckles speaks of more than a simple lesson in ice skating, a promise that challenges the boundaries of space and time. Whether on this island or beyond, this shared path they walk is something else to call theirs. ]
Ah, shall we have dinner first, however? I seem to recall we have leftovers to finish.
[ With both of her hands in his like this, so earnestly kissed and sworn over, it is difficult even for her to imagine that he doesn't speak with a larger idea in mind, a greater sentiment.
One day, if they are ever returned to their rightful homes, he will have to let go of her hands. She hopes that they can prepare each other well for what may come after that, but in the meantime she is trying her best to live in this moment, this small niche they have carved out for themselves against all odds.
Perhaps there is a related thought that she can share with him, but first things first: she nods to answer his question. ]
A hearty dinner to fortify our skating efforts.
[ It's fortunate that it isn't actually cold outside. Barring last year's big snowstorm, she has had no reason to find bulky clothes. Dimitri's cloak would do her no good outside of this apartment and on ice.
One hand falls from his to coax Shadow's back half off her lap so she can stand. As she does the other lingers, fingers lacing with his own for a walk to the kitchen together. Shadow's plaintive mrow of disappointment leads to him slumping over onto the couch and watching the flick of his own tail with mild interest. ]
Do you remember when we first spoke of multiple worlds and alternate timelines? The awkwardness of finding the right terms to use when speaking of each other's counterparts?
[ Her hand in his, Dimitri follows along willingly, though he does spare a moment to give Shadow another quick, placating ear scritch; Hugo seems to be in one of those rare moods in which he is sleepier than he is demanding, so his own pettings will be saved for a later time.
With a kiss so properly dispensed to her knuckles, he lets go of her hand to fetch their leftover gratin from the fridge, mulling over her words in the meantime. Such an odd thing to remember right now... ]
I do recall, yes. [ A moment's pause as he sets the gratin down on the counter. ] And I must admit, even now I oftentimes have trouble differentiating you from the Edelgard back home. Even the memories of our childhood together that you have retained seem to be the same...
[ There is one major difference, of course: he thinks he may be too late to still reach for that Edelgard and have her reach back to him like his El has. But he doesn't want to sour the mood, not today when they're meant to be celebrating. ]
Why do you bring that up, beloved? Have you been thinking about home?
[ Her hand finally falls away from his when he opens the fridge and she moves to the cabinets, rising on her toes to take out two plates. Still, he retains most of her attention. ]
I am unsure of how much I truly differ from my counterpart, though her circumstances seem quite different.
[ Next she opens a drawer to retrieve utensils for both of them. ]
It is always difficult not to think of home. But I suppose it would be more accurate to say that I have been thinking about you.
I had been spared much of the awkwardness by the first Dorothea to arrive here because she never let me know that she had fought as your ally instead of my own. The night you and I negotiated our arrangement I fumbled for the right way to describe your counterpart and called him my Dimitri, which seemed inappropriate and all the more so because of the intimacy of our conversation.
[ With both plates and their utensils resting on the countertop, she turns to Dimitri again. ]
Yet now that is how I think of you. My Dimitri.
[ She doesn't quite get through the thought without a flush in her cheeks, but it certainly isn't as bright and flustering as it could be. ]
[ His attention, too, remains on her even as they set about heating up their dinner, though he does end up stopping altogether the further she elaborates, eyes fixed on her as she finishes. And when she does, well...
Can he be blamed for leaning in and pressing a smile to her lips? It's true it may delay their meal further, but nurturing these precious feelings takes precedence over nurturing their bodies. ]
I share the sentiment. [ He whispers, forehead to hers. ] You are my El. My one and only beloved.
[ The Edelgard back home is still his old childhood friend, someone he dearly wishes to reconnect with, if she will give him the chance. She will always have a piece of his heart, but it is only his El that can claim it whole. ]
You have told me as much before, however. [ And now that the more important part is out of the way, he can (carefully) pull the oven door open and work on preheating it. ] When I woke up at the hospital after we defended the Augur. It was the day we found out we had been assigned these quarters, and agreed to sharing living space for as long as I recovered.
[ Right. It was a temporary arrangement, and Dimitri's health has never been better, yet he hasn't made a concentrated effort to find new lodgings of his own since then. Is that why she brings this up now? Kicking him out on the day they celebrate his birthday would be a little cruel... ]
Good. [ Not said without a hint of humor in her tone. ] You are following along with me nicely.
[ Because she hasn't finished yet. She stations herself behind him, not crowding but only a few steps away. ]
Even then, after thinking the worst may have happened, I don't think I could have imagined how comfortable it has been to share a living space with you. You insisted that you would find a place of your own but there has been no haste to do so and I hope--
[ How funny that he can call "his El, his one and only beloved" and still she feels an odd case of butterflies in her stomach as she goes on. ]
--that it is because you feel as I do. I have felt more contentment in this time shared with you than I have in all of my time here. I hope you will continue to consider this your home on the island and feel no obligation to leave.
[ Oh, he didn't think she was finished, nor did he intend to interrupt her. It was only a brief kissing interlude!
As she goes on, however, he begins to realize his suspicions had been (fortunately) wrong, and that rather than rushing him out of her home -- like she once did, all those months ago -- she is inviting him to stay. To call it theirs, as they promised to do when they first agreed to it, but indefinitely this time. So when he turns to her again, his smile is as earnest as ever, though perhaps leaning on the side of rueful, just to match the color on his cheeks. ]
El, I-- I never wanted to leave. Not since we agreed to live together, and to be entirely frank, not since you accepted my courtship.
[ And that right there explains his fluster, an admission he didn't foresee making. It wasn't his place to tell her that it was increasingly harder to kiss her goodbye, to ask that she shared more of her time and her affections and her life with him. But now, as she seems so unsure of yet another sentiment they feel in kind, he dearly wishes he had made himself clearer-- that she never had to doubt how much he has cherished every second they have spent together.
Both his hands find one of hers again, held gently between his palms. Touch truly has been the most effective way they communicate, after all. ]
Had you asked me to find new lodgings, I would have. And when I still had the manor, I was not wanting for space or extravagant luxuries, but so often it felt so... lonely. It has never truly felt like a home, not as it has by your side.
Try as she might, she can't keep a smile from working its way across her face, small at first but rapidly growing and immeasurably fond. Once her hands are in his again, she squeezes his fingers without shame or apology. ]
I have not doubted your affection-- [ Although she begins to think she still hasn't realized its extent. ] --but this is all so unexpected, not to mention so unlike any courtship I might have imagined.
But I did not realize you were open to the idea so soon. [ One of her hands slips from his so she can cup his cheek. ] I still think it was wise to maintain our separate spaces at the time. Now that those spaces no longer exist, however, I am selfishly glad for the opportunity to enjoy your company whenever I please.
[ To say nothing of the comfort she has drawn from his presence in her bed almost every night since she found him in the hospital. ]
[ Is she keeping track of his blushes, now? You'd think she would have figured out the trick by this point, no matter how slow on the uptake she might be.
(She most definitely doesn't seem to have realized the extent of his affections, either.) ]
In all fairness, our courtship did not start like most others. [ He huffs out an exhale, amused-- and there is a joke to be made about Sylvain somewhere in there, but he's going to skip over to his next point. ] Our relationship is rather unorthodox, as well. There is very little about us that is traditional, I'm afraid.
[ Save perhaps for the part where they were once childhood sweethearts, but from the day she left Fhirdiad with a dagger to their sexual arrangement negotiated over tea and snacks on the island, nothing about their relationship has been like the flowery romances that poets and sonnets would speak of. But isn't tradition everything that Edelgard stands against? ]
No matter how odd we may seem to others, this feels right for us. [ He brings a hand to cup hers over his cheek, leaning into her touch. ] And I know we will continue to make it so, my beloved.
[ His face turns inward to press a kiss to her palm, but otherwise he doesn't make a single move to part from her. Dinner can wait. ]
What do you say, then? Shall we formalize it?
[ Their status as perma-roomies, that is! Not at all to be mistaken with marriage!
[ She has made great strides toward understanding what earns his blushes: rarely anything sexual and almost always when speaking of genuine romantic feelings. But she does think it is notably cute every time. ]
There is nothing wrong with defying tradition.
[ As she says it she remembers saying something about the unusual nature of their vows when their feelings were manipulated by the hot spring. Unusual does not mean bad; now that she offers him affection of her own free will, it is no less true.
The pad of her thumb swipes lightly over his lips. ]
And how do you propose that we formalize it? [ Her smile doesn't die down for a second. ] Shall we toast our good fortune?
[ He offers a brief chuckle at her first assertion, not at all unexpected-- and while he does still think some traditions are worth upholding, in this particular case they do happen to see eye on eye. ]
I do think we have some wine in the cabinets. I would not be opposed to a toast as we dine later, but for the moment... hmmm.
[ There's a smile in his hum, and he tilts his head to one side in consideration, further learning into her touch with the gesture. It seems to give him pause, and another moment later, it follows up with an idea.
Rummaging through the contents of a pocket in his trousers, he fishes out the heart-shaped key they were given months prior. With his other hand, he guides Edelgard's off his face and holds it between them, no higher than her chest. His next pause is longer, and finding the right words is a struggle, not due to nerves or any fear of incoming rejection, but simply because, as they have agreed, their relationship is anything but traditional, with no easily applicable labels or titles to be used. It is something that is truly only theirs.
Well. He supposes that is also what makes it so easy. ]
Edelgard von Hresvelg. [ He holds the simple blue key ring over her index finger, but won't slide it in until she formally answers. ] Will you be my beloved and continue to share a home with me?
[ She can't help it: her eyes widen in surprise, brows rising. After all they have been though, how is it possible for him to keep taking her by surprise.
The only thing not surprising about it is the sincere sentimentality. ]
This may not be a traditional courtship but you do seem to have a few favorite traditions.
[ Making vows, specifically. This observation doesn't stop her from spreading her fingers to assist, but the unnecessary grandness of the gesture does bring a blush to her cheeks. ]
Yes, Dimitri, I will continue to share this home with you.
But perhaps there is something else we can do, if you do not think it too silly an idea. I have a vague memory of the two of us playing on large tree with a thick trunk and sprawling branches. We carved our names into it, didn't we?
[ It's a memory she once drew comfort from in a place where no comfort was offered and later it became less comforting, her mind no longer able to connect a name to his face, details whittled away, even his sunny face less clear. ]
[ Oh, he doesn't think the gesture is that grand, if perhaps unnecessary. It is meant to be an exchange, not so unlike they did with the keys to their respective secret passageways, and later with their daggers; simple, yet meaningful.
(As an exchange, he also expected to get a key in return. If he needs to hulk-smash through that door, Edelgard, that is all going to be on you!) ]
As I have told you before, some traditions are worth keeping.
[ Said as he slides the (key) ring on her (index) finger, then leans in for a customary kiss to her knuckles. That one is just for show, though; he can't help himself, nor does he think he should have to try. ]
Now, as for your suggestion. Edelgard, that is... hmmm.
[ He takes half a step back with a pensive hum, lips pressed flat and a line between his brows. He didn't even use her fond nickname, see! So serious, so displeased!
... playfully so, that is! Because he breaks into his usual smile a second later, taking both her hands in his. (Did he get her, though? Did she fall for his act, even a little bit? Come on, he has to be getting better!) ]
I would love that. I'm surprised that you remember that, actually... Perhaps we can each use our daggers to do it, this time?
[ No, it's definitely a grand gesture and her blush is ongoing. But she does understand that this is probably meant to be symbolic exchange and once he isn't so sweetly grasping her hand and kissing her knuckles she intends to return the favor on principle, if perhaps with a bit less blush-worthy ceremony.
Or at least she means to. She gets a little distracted by his performance, her hand rising to poke one fingertip at the stern line of his mouth just before he dissolves into another smile and grabs both of her hands. No, she still doesn't consider him much of an actor, but she will forever have to acknowledge that he has proven himself better than she could have imagined at keeping a secret.
Her hands tighten on his. ]
My recollection of it is only a sketchy outline. [ Wait, she hasn't finished blushing just yet. ] It would be nice to create a fresher memory.
[ Perhaps even... fun. But give her a moment to shift both of his large hands to one of her own so she can pull her own key out and press it fondly into his palms. ]
[ His hands only part from hers for a moment, and only so he can take her key and put it safely away in his pocket. As soon as the task is done, he claims them again so to return her fond squeeze in kind, gentle despite his strength. A testament to how comfortable it feels with her, perhaps, that he's no longer so nervous as to be clumsy with dispensing his affections. ]
Then we shall, beloved. [ Because no touch is ever enough and because he doesn't need to hold back, he leans in to press their foreheads together. ] A new memory for every one that has been taken from you.
[ And if there is such a thing as birthday wishes, then he hopes these are memories they both will carry with them long after they have been returned to their worlds. Long after they have left behind the only home that can ever be theirs.
He closes his eyes tight in an all too long blink, then pulls himself straight up again. Right here and now, her hands are still in his, and he will not allow such melancholy thoughts sour this moment. ]
So, where should we carve out our names, this time? One of the cupboards, perhaps?
[ Ah, a grand declaration to match his earlier grand gesture. The warmth in her cheeks doesn't die down just yet. Not when he dips down to touch his forehead to hers and she has no doubt that he would grant her as many happy new memories as he can help to create. Her eyelids half-shut, her too-near focus on his lips and chin, and can he blame her if she rises on her toes to brush a little kiss right there, in the dip beneath his lower lip?
Every happiness she finds here is tempered by something, usually either her discontent at being trapped here or the twin discontent of knowing that finally getting her freedom will mean saying goodbye to the Dimitri she has gotten to know so intimately over her time here. Despite that, what she feels now is a kind of happiness she has never really imagined before. She is not so naive as to believe that love conquers all -- if that were true, much about her life and Fódlan as a whole would be different -- but she does feel as though as though her present is made much better for his company, for his affection, for his ever-present sincerity.
When he straightens, she lowers to the flats of her feet again. ]
What do you think of this?
[ Still in his, one hand points to the bare side of an end cabinet above the kitchen counter. She'd have to sit on the lip of the sink to carve her name there but it's a choice, if not exactly inconspicuous, location. Besides, there is a real possibility that Dimitri carving his name into a door of any kind would lead to that door being broken off its hinges in the process. ]
[ Hey! He may be clumsy, but weapons, he can wield! Coming this far on his relationship with Edelgard is a testament to his skill, really.
That aside, his eyes trail after her chosen spot -- and how sweet it is, that their hands are still intertwined even as she motions -- and a smile graces his lips to show his approval. As far as options go, this is certainly one of the least conspicuous, but isn't that exactly the point? To leave an indelible mark and prove to future occupants and the world at large that, despite their differences and captivity and every hardship they have faced on this island, they could still find love and some measure of happiness in this home they have built?
It is, at least, as he remembers the promise of their childhood. That even though Edelgard had little choice with regards to her fate back then, she still enjoyed the time she spent with him. ]
A fine spot, I believe.
[ And before he can inadvertently offend or set her off by asking if she could reach that high, he does as he does best and lets go of her hands at last, but only so he can hook his arms around her back and under her knees, then lift her in a princess carry. Another tradition worth keeping, he reckons. ]
Shall we get started?
[ He realizes a second too late he isn't sure Edelgard has her own dagger on her person at present, but picking her up always comes with a tacit offer: the royal carriage will take her anywhere she needs be. ]
[ She has full confidence in his ability to wield a weapon. She has less confidence in his ability to keep a door properly in place while wielding a weapon at it.
But she tries to smother her small sound of amused surprise when he picks her up again. He may seem to enjoy picking her up and gathering her close but she isn't sure when it will stop surprising her. ]
My dagger is in my boot.
[ Near. Ready. But not on her when the most pressing plans for the afternoon seemed to be lounging with cats and making sure Dimitri got his birthday present. It's a far cry from her first months here. ]
We'll have to fetch it.
[ And then he can set her up properly at the sink. In the meantime she indulges in wrapping her arms around his neck, chin tipping up with a hint of expectancy until her nose nudges his chin. As long as he insists on picking her up, shouldn't he make the most of it and kiss her? ]
[ Oh, don't think for a second that he doesn't catch that hint of expectancy there-- and, really, he had planned on kissing her all along. It's just that some things come first, like the smile on his face when she embraces his silly antics -- and, well, himself -- in full with her hands behind his neck.
(He remembers he once told her it isn't always easy to live in the moment; like this, it is.) ]
We have our destination, then.
[ Now he can press his lips to hers, brief but not any less fond for it, and then set off to fetch the dagger. He recalls seeing Edelgard's boots by the entrance door, a memory confirmed with a quick inspection of the room and a journey that's only marginally longer for how small their living room is.
And if she thought he was done with the silly antics? Well, better think again! Because instead of cradling her in a single arm -- which would be easy enough for him -- he dips her like it's an impromptu dance, just low enough that she can let go of him and reach for her boots and dagger. ]
If you please.
[ If she pleases, perhaps they should have a proper dance later, too. The perfect way to end their celebration, he reckons. ]
[ He's a shameless romantic, from his fond smile to the indulgent kiss to the way he dips her low enough to reach for the boot in question.
At some other private time she might give his antics a good-natured roll of her eyes, but what kind of beloved is she if she can't indulge him on his birthday as certainly as he indulges her. It's only the two of them, no one else to answer to. ]
How kind of you.
[ It takes no time at all to free the dagger, sweeping it out of her boot. She raises it with care, pointing it away from him. ]
[ If she will so kindly indulge him, then perhaps she won't complain about a second kiss? Just a quick one this time-- he will still dutifully fulfill her whims, of course! ]
Full throttle, is it?
[ Or, about as full as he can; he's carrying precious cargo, and they share an apartment with two cats, their stealthy murderous running and far too many toys, after all. Still, the best she can expect is some jostling, and while he does pick up his pace, he's careful not to engage in any tripping accidents-- a skill he has honed ever since adopting Hugo, naturally.
Once they make it to their destination, he does as instructed and places her atop the sink, as far back as he can so to ensure she won't slip and fall. There, safe and sound! ]
[ A pair of golden eyes peers curiously at them from the couch, Shadow bracing himself on its arm as though he has his doubts about whatever they're up to and may possibly dive in if things go awry.
Edelgard, on the other hand, feels her lips twitch with amusement as she is put into position. ]
Your efforts are appreciated. [ As it turns out, the royal carriage is always good for a ride. ] I will honored to go first.
[ She takes a moment to size up the side of the cabinet, choosing her placement. Most of the carving she has done with this dagger has been metaphorical but she is determined to do this neatly, a tiny crease of concentration appearing between her eyebrows as she starts on the "E." ]
Would you like to find the wine in the meantime? I promise to be careful.
[ He casts her a last side glance of minimal protest -- not because he thinks her so careless she'll fall off her perch, but because he's never too happy to part from her -- but eventually complies, with maybe just one little kiss on her shoulder to help carry him through this arduous task. ]
Of course. Two glasses of red, I presume?
[ Because Dimitri may prefer something stronger himself, but he knows Edelgard to favor sweet red wine above all others, a small whim he can easily indulge her on.
So step back he does, and thankfully his search in the cabinets bears quick fruit in the shape of a tall bottle. Next, he procures a pair of glasses, pops the cap open with all too much ease -- and no accidents, even! -- then pours in the contents until both glasses have been filled halfway, just enough for an appetizer before dinner. And that exact line of thinking drives his thoughts elsewhere. ]
Here you go. [ The light clink of glass on marble announces her drink has been set on the countertop, his own in hand. ] I hope these have not been laced, or else you may never accept another drink from me.
[ It's an old, old reference by now, any past hints of embarrassment fading into the warm amusement of his breath. The wish is genuine, though; he knows they can make the best of any aphrodisiac incidents at this point, of course, but he always prefers to keep it real. ]
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And if it's not, well. Her question sure does put a frown on his face. ]
Ah, this. [ He pulls away from her, the line between his brows more visible as he circles the couch. ] I imagine it is meant to be an emulation of snow, though it is disappointingly warm. The temperature outside has certainly not dropped whatsoever, either.
[ Which makes for an unhappy Faerghan, but things are what they are. Still, as he joins her on the cushioned seat -- always careful so to not startle the cats, of course -- he realizes there might be a brighter side to this. ]
On the other hand, it should be comfortable enough for you to face it without so many layers. [ Wait, that almost sounds like innuendo, but it's not that sort of invitation. ] How would you feel about skating together?
[ He wonders if she recalls having joined him once before, all those years ago. ]
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As he sits beside her, Shadow's eyes blink open, all trace of sleepiness gone. One paw r e a c h e s with luxuriant slowness to brace on Dimitri's arm: he may be content where he is but his eye is upon you, Dimitri.
But in this case Dimitri's near innuendo is completely innocuous, if only because she remembers needing to bundle up so much against the Faerghan cold when she was there. ]
It may be like teaching me all over again. [ His hands clutched in hers, her legs wobbly but her heart stubborn. It has been quite some time. ] But I think it will be fun.
[ Clothed fun this time. ]
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Yet, his progress with the cat pales in comparison to the long road he's walked with Edelgard, from showing up unannounced and uninvited at her doorstep -- a memory made all the more vivid thanks to their feline companions -- to having a home to call theirs, even if only temporarily. Idly, he wonders if she enjoys it as much as he does, or if he's imposing on her with his prolonged stay long past his recovery, but... perhaps just for now, he can be selfish and push that topic further into the future, enjoy domestic bliss at her side for one day more. ]
I would be happy to teach you all over again, El. [ As though reinforcing his point, he takes both her hands in his, his fingers hooking under hers in a solid grasp, as gentle as the boy from years ago, but with much more practiced strength. ] And much as I did back then, I swear to never let go of these hands.
[ The kiss he presses to her knuckles speaks of more than a simple lesson in ice skating, a promise that challenges the boundaries of space and time. Whether on this island or beyond, this shared path they walk is something else to call theirs. ]
Ah, shall we have dinner first, however? I seem to recall we have leftovers to finish.
[ Decadently cheesy leftovers, hmmm. ]
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One day, if they are ever returned to their rightful homes, he will have to let go of her hands. She hopes that they can prepare each other well for what may come after that, but in the meantime she is trying her best to live in this moment, this small niche they have carved out for themselves against all odds.
Perhaps there is a related thought that she can share with him, but first things first: she nods to answer his question. ]
A hearty dinner to fortify our skating efforts.
[ It's fortunate that it isn't actually cold outside. Barring last year's big snowstorm, she has had no reason to find bulky clothes. Dimitri's cloak would do her no good outside of this apartment and on ice.
One hand falls from his to coax Shadow's back half off her lap so she can stand. As she does the other lingers, fingers lacing with his own for a walk to the kitchen together. Shadow's plaintive mrow of disappointment leads to him slumping over onto the couch and watching the flick of his own tail with mild interest. ]
Do you remember when we first spoke of multiple worlds and alternate timelines? The awkwardness of finding the right terms to use when speaking of each other's counterparts?
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With a kiss so properly dispensed to her knuckles, he lets go of her hand to fetch their leftover gratin from the fridge, mulling over her words in the meantime. Such an odd thing to remember right now... ]
I do recall, yes. [ A moment's pause as he sets the gratin down on the counter. ] And I must admit, even now I oftentimes have trouble differentiating you from the Edelgard back home. Even the memories of our childhood together that you have retained seem to be the same...
[ There is one major difference, of course: he thinks he may be too late to still reach for that Edelgard and have her reach back to him like his El has. But he doesn't want to sour the mood, not today when they're meant to be celebrating. ]
Why do you bring that up, beloved? Have you been thinking about home?
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I am unsure of how much I truly differ from my counterpart, though her circumstances seem quite different.
[ Next she opens a drawer to retrieve utensils for both of them. ]
It is always difficult not to think of home. But I suppose it would be more accurate to say that I have been thinking about you.
I had been spared much of the awkwardness by the first Dorothea to arrive here because she never let me know that she had fought as your ally instead of my own. The night you and I negotiated our arrangement I fumbled for the right way to describe your counterpart and called him my Dimitri, which seemed inappropriate and all the more so because of the intimacy of our conversation.
[ With both plates and their utensils resting on the countertop, she turns to Dimitri again. ]
Yet now that is how I think of you. My Dimitri.
[ She doesn't quite get through the thought without a flush in her cheeks, but it certainly isn't as bright and flustering as it could be. ]
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Can he be blamed for leaning in and pressing a smile to her lips? It's true it may delay their meal further, but nurturing these precious feelings takes precedence over nurturing their bodies. ]
I share the sentiment. [ He whispers, forehead to hers. ] You are my El. My one and only beloved.
[ The Edelgard back home is still his old childhood friend, someone he dearly wishes to reconnect with, if she will give him the chance. She will always have a piece of his heart, but it is only his El that can claim it whole. ]
You have told me as much before, however. [ And now that the more important part is out of the way, he can (carefully) pull the oven door open and work on preheating it. ] When I woke up at the hospital after we defended the Augur. It was the day we found out we had been assigned these quarters, and agreed to sharing living space for as long as I recovered.
[ Right. It was a temporary arrangement, and Dimitri's health has never been better, yet he hasn't made a concentrated effort to find new lodgings of his own since then. Is that why she brings this up now? Kicking him out on the day they celebrate his birthday would be a little cruel... ]
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[ Because she hasn't finished yet. She stations herself behind him, not crowding but only a few steps away. ]
Even then, after thinking the worst may have happened, I don't think I could have imagined how comfortable it has been to share a living space with you. You insisted that you would find a place of your own but there has been no haste to do so and I hope--
[ How funny that he can call "his El, his one and only beloved" and still she feels an odd case of butterflies in her stomach as she goes on. ]
--that it is because you feel as I do. I have felt more contentment in this time shared with you than I have in all of my time here. I hope you will continue to consider this your home on the island and feel no obligation to leave.
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As she goes on, however, he begins to realize his suspicions had been (fortunately) wrong, and that rather than rushing him out of her home -- like she once did, all those months ago -- she is inviting him to stay. To call it theirs, as they promised to do when they first agreed to it, but indefinitely this time. So when he turns to her again, his smile is as earnest as ever, though perhaps leaning on the side of rueful, just to match the color on his cheeks. ]
El, I-- I never wanted to leave. Not since we agreed to live together, and to be entirely frank, not since you accepted my courtship.
[ And that right there explains his fluster, an admission he didn't foresee making. It wasn't his place to tell her that it was increasingly harder to kiss her goodbye, to ask that she shared more of her time and her affections and her life with him. But now, as she seems so unsure of yet another sentiment they feel in kind, he dearly wishes he had made himself clearer-- that she never had to doubt how much he has cherished every second they have spent together.
Both his hands find one of hers again, held gently between his palms. Touch truly has been the most effective way they communicate, after all. ]
Had you asked me to find new lodgings, I would have. And when I still had the manor, I was not wanting for space or extravagant luxuries, but so often it felt so... lonely. It has never truly felt like a home, not as it has by your side.
[ She is his home. ]
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Try as she might, she can't keep a smile from working its way across her face, small at first but rapidly growing and immeasurably fond. Once her hands are in his again, she squeezes his fingers without shame or apology. ]
I have not doubted your affection-- [ Although she begins to think she still hasn't realized its extent. ] --but this is all so unexpected, not to mention so unlike any courtship I might have imagined.
But I did not realize you were open to the idea so soon. [ One of her hands slips from his so she can cup his cheek. ] I still think it was wise to maintain our separate spaces at the time. Now that those spaces no longer exist, however, I am selfishly glad for the opportunity to enjoy your company whenever I please.
[ To say nothing of the comfort she has drawn from his presence in her bed almost every night since she found him in the hospital. ]
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(She most definitely doesn't seem to have realized the extent of his affections, either.) ]
In all fairness, our courtship did not start like most others. [ He huffs out an exhale, amused-- and there is a joke to be made about Sylvain somewhere in there, but he's going to skip over to his next point. ] Our relationship is rather unorthodox, as well. There is very little about us that is traditional, I'm afraid.
[ Save perhaps for the part where they were once childhood sweethearts, but from the day she left Fhirdiad with a dagger to their sexual arrangement negotiated over tea and snacks on the island, nothing about their relationship has been like the flowery romances that poets and sonnets would speak of. But isn't tradition everything that Edelgard stands against? ]
No matter how odd we may seem to others, this feels right for us. [ He brings a hand to cup hers over his cheek, leaning into her touch. ] And I know we will continue to make it so, my beloved.
[ His face turns inward to press a kiss to her palm, but otherwise he doesn't make a single move to part from her. Dinner can wait. ]
What do you say, then? Shall we formalize it?
[ Their status as perma-roomies, that is! Not at all to be mistaken with marriage!
(... probably!!) ]
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There is nothing wrong with defying tradition.
[ As she says it she remembers saying something about the unusual nature of their vows when their feelings were manipulated by the hot spring. Unusual does not mean bad; now that she offers him affection of her own free will, it is no less true.
The pad of her thumb swipes lightly over his lips. ]
And how do you propose that we formalize it? [ Her smile doesn't die down for a second. ] Shall we toast our good fortune?
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I do think we have some wine in the cabinets. I would not be opposed to a toast as we dine later, but for the moment... hmmm.
[ There's a smile in his hum, and he tilts his head to one side in consideration, further learning into her touch with the gesture. It seems to give him pause, and another moment later, it follows up with an idea.
Rummaging through the contents of a pocket in his trousers, he fishes out the heart-shaped key they were given months prior. With his other hand, he guides Edelgard's off his face and holds it between them, no higher than her chest. His next pause is longer, and finding the right words is a struggle, not due to nerves or any fear of incoming rejection, but simply because, as they have agreed, their relationship is anything but traditional, with no easily applicable labels or titles to be used. It is something that is truly only theirs.
Well. He supposes that is also what makes it so easy. ]
Edelgard von Hresvelg. [ He holds the simple blue key ring over her index finger, but won't slide it in until she formally answers. ] Will you be my beloved and continue to share a home with me?
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The only thing not surprising about it is the sincere sentimentality. ]
This may not be a traditional courtship but you do seem to have a few favorite traditions.
[ Making vows, specifically. This observation doesn't stop her from spreading her fingers to assist, but the unnecessary grandness of the gesture does bring a blush to her cheeks. ]
Yes, Dimitri, I will continue to share this home with you.
But perhaps there is something else we can do, if you do not think it too silly an idea. I have a vague memory of the two of us playing on large tree with a thick trunk and sprawling branches. We carved our names into it, didn't we?
[ It's a memory she once drew comfort from in a place where no comfort was offered and later it became less comforting, her mind no longer able to connect a name to his face, details whittled away, even his sunny face less clear. ]
We could do that here.
[ Just a little consensual property damage. ]
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(As an exchange, he also expected to get a key in return. If he needs to hulk-smash through that door, Edelgard, that is all going to be on you!) ]
As I have told you before, some traditions are worth keeping.
[ Said as he slides the (key) ring on her (index) finger, then leans in for a customary kiss to her knuckles. That one is just for show, though; he can't help himself, nor does he think he should have to try. ]
Now, as for your suggestion. Edelgard, that is... hmmm.
[ He takes half a step back with a pensive hum, lips pressed flat and a line between his brows. He didn't even use her fond nickname, see! So serious, so displeased!
... playfully so, that is! Because he breaks into his usual smile a second later, taking both her hands in his. (Did he get her, though? Did she fall for his act, even a little bit? Come on, he has to be getting better!) ]
I would love that. I'm surprised that you remember that, actually... Perhaps we can each use our daggers to do it, this time?
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Or at least she means to. She gets a little distracted by his performance, her hand rising to poke one fingertip at the stern line of his mouth just before he dissolves into another smile and grabs both of her hands. No, she still doesn't consider him much of an actor, but she will forever have to acknowledge that he has proven himself better than she could have imagined at keeping a secret.
Her hands tighten on his. ]
My recollection of it is only a sketchy outline. [ Wait, she hasn't finished blushing just yet. ] It would be nice to create a fresher memory.
[ Perhaps even... fun. But give her a moment to shift both of his large hands to one of her own so she can pull her own key out and press it fondly into his palms. ]
I think it's only fitting to use our daggers.
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Then we shall, beloved. [ Because no touch is ever enough and because he doesn't need to hold back, he leans in to press their foreheads together. ] A new memory for every one that has been taken from you.
[ And if there is such a thing as birthday wishes, then he hopes these are memories they both will carry with them long after they have been returned to their worlds. Long after they have left behind the only home that can ever be theirs.
He closes his eyes tight in an all too long blink, then pulls himself straight up again. Right here and now, her hands are still in his, and he will not allow such melancholy thoughts sour this moment. ]
So, where should we carve out our names, this time? One of the cupboards, perhaps?
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Every happiness she finds here is tempered by something, usually either her discontent at being trapped here or the twin discontent of knowing that finally getting her freedom will mean saying goodbye to the Dimitri she has gotten to know so intimately over her time here. Despite that, what she feels now is a kind of happiness she has never really imagined before. She is not so naive as to believe that love conquers all -- if that were true, much about her life and Fódlan as a whole would be different -- but she does feel as though as though her present is made much better for his company, for his affection, for his ever-present sincerity.
When he straightens, she lowers to the flats of her feet again. ]
What do you think of this?
[ Still in his, one hand points to the bare side of an end cabinet above the kitchen counter. She'd have to sit on the lip of the sink to carve her name there but it's a choice, if not exactly inconspicuous, location. Besides, there is a real possibility that Dimitri carving his name into a door of any kind would lead to that door being broken off its hinges in the process. ]
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That aside, his eyes trail after her chosen spot -- and how sweet it is, that their hands are still intertwined even as she motions -- and a smile graces his lips to show his approval. As far as options go, this is certainly one of the least conspicuous, but isn't that exactly the point? To leave an indelible mark and prove to future occupants and the world at large that, despite their differences and captivity and every hardship they have faced on this island, they could still find love and some measure of happiness in this home they have built?
It is, at least, as he remembers the promise of their childhood. That even though Edelgard had little choice with regards to her fate back then, she still enjoyed the time she spent with him. ]
A fine spot, I believe.
[ And before he can inadvertently offend or set her off by asking if she could reach that high, he does as he does best and lets go of her hands at last, but only so he can hook his arms around her back and under her knees, then lift her in a princess carry. Another tradition worth keeping, he reckons. ]
Shall we get started?
[ He realizes a second too late he isn't sure Edelgard has her own dagger on her person at present, but picking her up always comes with a tacit offer: the royal carriage will take her anywhere she needs be. ]
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But she tries to smother her small sound of amused surprise when he picks her up again. He may seem to enjoy picking her up and gathering her close but she isn't sure when it will stop surprising her. ]
My dagger is in my boot.
[ Near. Ready. But not on her when the most pressing plans for the afternoon seemed to be lounging with cats and making sure Dimitri got his birthday present. It's a far cry from her first months here. ]
We'll have to fetch it.
[ And then he can set her up properly at the sink. In the meantime she indulges in wrapping her arms around his neck, chin tipping up with a hint of expectancy until her nose nudges his chin. As long as he insists on picking her up, shouldn't he make the most of it and kiss her? ]
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(He remembers he once told her it isn't always easy to live in the moment; like this, it is.) ]
We have our destination, then.
[ Now he can press his lips to hers, brief but not any less fond for it, and then set off to fetch the dagger. He recalls seeing Edelgard's boots by the entrance door, a memory confirmed with a quick inspection of the room and a journey that's only marginally longer for how small their living room is.
And if she thought he was done with the silly antics? Well, better think again! Because instead of cradling her in a single arm -- which would be easy enough for him -- he dips her like it's an impromptu dance, just low enough that she can let go of him and reach for her boots and dagger. ]
If you please.
[ If she pleases, perhaps they should have a proper dance later, too. The perfect way to end their celebration, he reckons. ]
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At some other private time she might give his antics a good-natured roll of her eyes, but what kind of beloved is she if she can't indulge him on his birthday as certainly as he indulges her. It's only the two of them, no one else to answer to. ]
How kind of you.
[ It takes no time at all to free the dagger, sweeping it out of her boot. She raises it with care, pointing it away from him. ]
Now to the sink, and quickly.
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Full throttle, is it?
[ Or, about as full as he can; he's carrying precious cargo, and they share an apartment with two cats, their stealthy murderous running and far too many toys, after all. Still, the best she can expect is some jostling, and while he does pick up his pace, he's careful not to engage in any tripping accidents-- a skill he has honed ever since adopting Hugo, naturally.
Once they make it to their destination, he does as instructed and places her atop the sink, as far back as he can so to ensure she won't slip and fall. There, safe and sound! ]
Would you like to go first?
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Edelgard, on the other hand, feels her lips twitch with amusement as she is put into position. ]
Your efforts are appreciated. [ As it turns out, the royal carriage is always good for a ride. ] I will honored to go first.
[ She takes a moment to size up the side of the cabinet, choosing her placement. Most of the carving she has done with this dagger has been metaphorical but she is determined to do this neatly, a tiny crease of concentration appearing between her eyebrows as she starts on the "E." ]
Would you like to find the wine in the meantime? I promise to be careful.
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Of course. Two glasses of red, I presume?
[ Because Dimitri may prefer something stronger himself, but he knows Edelgard to favor sweet red wine above all others, a small whim he can easily indulge her on.
So step back he does, and thankfully his search in the cabinets bears quick fruit in the shape of a tall bottle. Next, he procures a pair of glasses, pops the cap open with all too much ease -- and no accidents, even! -- then pours in the contents until both glasses have been filled halfway, just enough for an appetizer before dinner. And that exact line of thinking drives his thoughts elsewhere. ]
Here you go. [ The light clink of glass on marble announces her drink has been set on the countertop, his own in hand. ] I hope these have not been laced, or else you may never accept another drink from me.
[ It's an old, old reference by now, any past hints of embarrassment fading into the warm amusement of his breath. The wish is genuine, though; he knows they can make the best of any aphrodisiac incidents at this point, of course, but he always prefers to keep it real. ]
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