[ Nope, they have just agreed on no more unnecessarily killing, no backsies now-- and that includes no more inadvertent attempts on her own life, if Dimitri has any say in it. And right now, he does.
With her consent properly dispensed and not another single word, he hooks one hand under her knees and the other around the small of her back, scooping her arms with the effort of someone who picks up a feathery pillow while making their bed in a still sleepy haze: automatic and easy, if not entirely focused.
And if that haze persists, if his eyes linger on hers and he forgets a breath and a beat in his chest with her pressed so close to him... well, perhaps he, too, has only himself to blame. But can he really be assigned fault for wishing to keep her right here in his arms, safe from her own shortsighted pride and the ill intent of others? ]
[Edelgard had assumed that Dimitri were to get down on one knee. To hold his laced hands to provide a life up on to her own horse.
Not... this! Whatever this is! The indignity of it! Like she is some swaddled babe in the arms of a guardian. What an embarrassment! She's frozen in shock for quite a bit, but it is not long before she uselessly wriggles like an indignant toddler: kicking her feet and squirming in his arms.]
[ ... ah, well. That surely puts an end to his reverie, doesn't it. ]
I am helping you. [ The plain and simple truth, his eyes still fixed down on her and rather unfazed by her (childish, maybe, but oddly endearing) protests-- he does keep a strong grip on her, after all, no risk of another prideful fall. ] You did agree to it, did you not?
[ Did he omit some small part of what he had in mind? Maybe. But it doesn't matter! All that matters is that he'll be loading her up onto her mount-- or, well, he'll be trying to. She'll scare the horse away if she keeps this up! ]
[And now she's staring up at him silently as she imagines his large torso pressed flush against her back as the horse makes its way back to the kingdom. Wrapped in his cloak, warm and tucked safely against. him. Surely she'd nod off and he'd probably laugh at her.
How awful! What a terrible thought! To be gazed upon so fondly by an enemy! Could she even bear it?]
[ Edelgard is in luck(?) for the moment, as Dimitri is currently too preoccupied with the issue of her startled mount to pay attention to any compromising stares. A distrustful horse can be a danger in its own right, but with an obviously inebriated rider taking the reins... hmm. It's not a prospect he's comfortable with.
He is, however, unabashedly comfortable with carrying her, so do forgive him if he takes a moment longer than absolutely necessary to come up with a solution to his self-inflicted conundrum? It's... for the sake of Fódlan. ]
Would you be opposed to riding with me?
[ Under different circumstances, with her body in his arms and his face so close to hers, this could almost be suspected of innuendo. ]
Do you really think I am that incapacitated that I cannot ride my own horse? I made it all the way here.
[It's not a "no" but it is a form of protest. Though to be quite fair Edelgard wasn't half as drunk when she got on the horse because she had a bit more to drink on the journey here.]
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With her consent properly dispensed and not another single word, he hooks one hand under her knees and the other around the small of her back, scooping her arms with the effort of someone who picks up a feathery pillow while making their bed in a still sleepy haze: automatic and easy, if not entirely focused.
And if that haze persists, if his eyes linger on hers and he forgets a breath and a beat in his chest with her pressed so close to him... well, perhaps he, too, has only himself to blame. But can he really be assigned fault for wishing to keep her right here in his arms, safe from her own shortsighted pride and the ill intent of others? ]
no subject
Not... this! Whatever this is! The indignity of it! Like she is some swaddled babe in the arms of a guardian. What an embarrassment! She's frozen in shock for quite a bit, but it is not long before she uselessly wriggles like an indignant toddler: kicking her feet and squirming in his arms.]
What is the meaning of this?!
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I am helping you. [ The plain and simple truth, his eyes still fixed down on her and rather unfazed by her (childish, maybe, but oddly endearing) protests-- he does keep a strong grip on her, after all, no risk of another prideful fall. ] You did agree to it, did you not?
[ Did he omit some small part of what he had in mind? Maybe. But it doesn't matter! All that matters is that he'll be loading her up onto her mount-- or, well, he'll be trying to. She'll scare the horse away if she keeps this up! ]
1/2
Agree to this?
[At this point he might as well just cart her over to his horse and cradle her while they travel back to—]
no subject
How awful! What a terrible thought! To be gazed upon so fondly by an enemy! Could she even bear it?]
no subject
He is, however, unabashedly comfortable with carrying her, so do forgive him if he takes a moment longer than absolutely necessary to come up with a solution to his self-inflicted conundrum? It's... for the sake of Fódlan. ]
Would you be opposed to riding with me?
[ Under different circumstances, with her body in his arms and his face so close to hers, this could almost be suspected of innuendo. ]
no subject
[It's not a "no" but it is a form of protest. Though to be quite fair Edelgard wasn't half as drunk when she got on the horse because she had a bit more to drink on the journey here.]