A treatise outlining the return of Duscur territory to its rightful owners, a proposal to Brigid about forming an alliance, documents and letters from Claude regarding trade routes between Fódlan and Almyra, the list goes on and on. he King of Faerghus can’t delay any of them, because papers such as these are of utmost importance. Ever since his official coronation a year ago, the amount of work Dimitri had to do has grown exponentially. As much as he hates to admit it, it can be a struggle to keep up with it all at times. Looking to his right, he sees a tired face partially veiled with mint green hair, hanging down like the head of its owner. The man yawns, his eyelids drooping as he attempts to fight off his exhaustion.
“Byleth, is everything alright?” Dimitri speaks up, tossing his own blonde locks out of his face. “You look tired, I’m worried about you…”
“I won’t lie, Dima… I am tired.” Byleth rests his chin on his hand, letting out another yawn before turning to face Dimitri. “But these are things I have to do, especially since it’s part of my agreement with Seteth. I can stay here in Fhirdiad with you as long as I get all these papers done on time. I don’t know why Rhea wants me as archbishop… Seteth would be way better at it.” He glances down at a gleaming silver ring on his left hand, a fond smile crossing his face when his eyes land on the sparkling emerald sitting within. Dimitri is all too familiar with the ring as well, having searched for weeks to find the perfect ring for his beloved.
“I think there are many things about her that I will never understand either… But I can assure you that you have risen to the challenge wonderfully,” he says, leaning over to place a gentle kiss on Byleth’s cheek. “Just like you stepped into your role as a professor all those years ago.” Those memories bring Dimitri warmth and happiness even now, those days filled with good times and bad. But he is forever grateful that Byleth chose to teach his class and stay by his side through the chaotic academy days - and through the war - Dimitri finds himself getting lost in his thoughts for a bit, remembering those five years on his own, where he thought Byleth was dead…
“Dima.” Byleth’s voice cuts through Dimitri’s thoughts, shaking him from his stupor with a simple touch to his hand. The warmth comforts Dimitri as it always had, the tension rushing out of his body as his shoulders relax. “Don’t worry about the past. You know I don’t like to see you sad.” His voice is as smooth and calm as ever, but Dimitri had learned to recognize the slight inflections of Byleth’s voice to decipher the feelings behind his words.
“I know that, yes. I’m sorry, Byleth.” He runs his rough hand against Byleth’s, curling his fingers around his husband’s smaller ones. "I'm grateful that you chose to stay by my side. Not just a professor or a friend, but as my husband." He tenderly kisses Byleth’s fingers, savoring how they felt in his own hand. Gazing into those green eyes, he feels as if he might lose himself in them. Not that there’s anywhere else he would rather be. Better to be with Byleth than attend the stuffy meetings with other rulers and nobles But Dimitri knows it’s something he must do. Today, however, would perhaps be a little more tolerable, since the visitor is the king of Almyra, Claude. Or rather, Khalid. He still has to get used to the fact that his old classmate wasn’t actually from Fódlan, but having others in the same situation, such as Dedue and Petra, made it easier. “I suppose we should get ready to meet with Cl–Khalid…” Dimitri lets out a sigh, standing from his desk as the chair creaks on the floor. Byleth gives him a nod and the two go about their routine, not bothering to change into their more regal garments, as they are already running late.
The royal couple keep their fingers intertwined as they walk down the winding stairs towards the main hall, and Dimitri can’t help but steal glances at Byleth, thinking of how beautiful he looks, even in a simple white cotton shirt and navy pants Passing blue and gold tapestries and detailed paintings, the castle is the picture of peace and warmth. A fire is even going in the hall, with commoners and nobles alike huddled around it for warmth. Among them is Claude himself, a small smirk of pleasure on his face as if he is satisfied with how things are.
“Ah, Your Kingliness, Teach!” The man gives the two a small wave that looks almost like a salute. “You two look… not the best.” His eyes flick up and down, scanning the pair. Well, he certainly didn’t mince his words, and Dimitri can’t help but agree that he feels exhausted.
“Quite the greeting, Claude… And here I thought that sharp tongue of yours might have dulled in the time you’ve been in Almyra,” Dimitri quips back, letting out a quiet groan. Claude had always been joking around back at the Officers Academy as well, and it seems he really hasn’t changed at all, despite the war that had engulfed Fódlan.
“Your words wound me, Dimitri! You thought sitting on the throne would change me? You should know by now that I’m not that kind of guy,” Claude fires back with a grin, stroking the thin beard on his chin. The other king glances at Byleth and Dimitri once more, turning to face a large package near his feet. “I’d even come with a gift for you guys to celebrate the peace between Fódlan and Almyra, but alas, seems I go unappreciated yet again,” he says as he fakes a sad tone of voice.
“Enough with the theatrics, Claude.” Byleth yawns, trying to stifle it by raising his hand to his mouth, the wedding ring from Dimitri shining brightly as the sunlight bounced off its surface. “Just get to the point. And if there’s a gift, then so be it.” His tired voice is a bit monotone, though Dimitri knows that it’s most likely a result of exhaustion with work. He catches Claude flinching, a drop of sweat rolling down his face at Byleth’s bluntness.
“Alright, alright…” The dark-skinned man obliges, leaning down to take the gift out of the large bag it had been transported in. “You never change, huh, Teach?” As Claude speaks, Dimitri catches Byleth’s face fall a bit, and he knows how the topic of emotions can be a sensitive one for the former professor. Claude seems to notice this as well, clearing his throat to clarify his thoughts. “I’m kidding, of course. You have changed a lot since we all first met, and I mean it in a good way. But that said, you look pretty tired, and you both get a bit cranky when you’re tired.” He leans on the bag and smirks. “When’s the last time you two took a break?” Dimitri immediately opens his mouth to reply, but Claude cuts him off as though he knows what he wanted to say. “An extended break. Like a vacation or something.”
Dimitri’s mouth closes and he averts his gaze, his eye trailing to Byleth and then to the ground. “Well… it’s… been…” He sweats, realizing that he and Byleth haven’t really taken a substantial break from their respective duties ever since the end of the war and their honeymoon a year ago.
“Yeah, that’s about what I thought.” It seems Dimitri’s lack of a quick reply tells Claude all he needs to know about their breaks, or rather, lack of them. “Well then, as part of our diplomatic agreements, I present this gift to you, and you are going to use it to go somewhere peaceful and far away. You’re not going to bring your work with you, and you are going to spend at least one full day away from the castle.” Dimitri tilts his head in confusion hearing Claude’s proposal. Of course, Claude didn’t actually have authority over him, but seeing how tired Byleth is, and no longer able to deny his own exhaustion, he decides to at least hear Claude out. His confusion only grows when the Almyran king pulls out… a carpet? The carpet is a deep shade of royal purple, adorned with gold trimmings and tassels on each corner, the Crest of Riegan stitched at its center. It is a beautiful rug, certainly, but Dimitri has no idea how they’re supposed to do anything with it, especially if Claude wants them to “use it to go somewhere.”
“Claude… I don’t know what you’re thinking, but if this is some kind of joke, I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.” Dimitri shakes his head, lifting the carpet into his arms while he and Byleth give it confused stares. It’s soft and comfortable, yes, but he isn’t sure what the point is.”
“You will soon enough. Sit on it and you’ll see.” Claude wears a grin on his face, seemingly amused by the confusion of the two. Dimitri and Byleth just stand and stare back at Claude, clearly neither one wants to be made a fool of. “I’m not tricking you, seriously.” Claude still looks amused, but he lets out a somewhat impatient sigh, though Dimitri guesses he just wants to see how they would react. “Get on it, say somewhere you want to go, and bam. You’re on your way.” It had always been hard to tell Claude’s true intentions, but he at least wouldn’t have a reason to deceive them now, right? Dimitri hesitates a moment longer before relenting, setting the carpet on the ground and lowering himself onto it while thinking of the lands of Duscur. Byleth quietly follows suit and sits in front of Dimitri, but the moment he touches the carpet’s surface, his brow furrows slightly.
“Dimitri, wait…” he begins, placing a slender hand on Dimitri’s broad shoulder. “I sense-” He’s cut off as the carpet suddenly begins to rise into the air, making Byleth cling more tightly to his husband. With a laugh and wave from Claude, the carpet soars out of the open doors to the courtyard, rising higher and higher into the sky.
“W-Woah-!” Dimitri jolts up, wide awake as the carpet carries him and Byleth up, the people and objects appearing to shrink as they get farther and farther away. He’d never ridden a wyvern before, so the experience is a new, and somewhat terrifying one as he wraps his arms tightly around Byleth, not daring to let go. Clinging to his husband, he feels his cape float out behind them, the layers of fur draped over Dimitri’s shoulders thankfully being heavy enough to keep it on him. “How is this… How is this possible…?” The snow of Faerghus seems to change into one white blanket below the pair, dotted faintly with sprinklings of towns and cities far below.
“When I touched it, I felt as if there was some kind of magic imbued in the carpet that apparently allows it to fly…” Byleth tries to keep his voice steady, but the higher pitch than normal tells Dimitri that he’s just as surprised and unfamiliar with flight as he is. “Who knew the Almyrans could use magic too…?” Dimitri feels Byleth’s hands touch his arms, soon clinging tightly to them while the wind rushes all around them, sending their hair flying behind them and pressing their clothes against them.
“D-Did Claude ever stop to think about what would happen if we fell from here?” Panic permeates Dimitri’s voice as he feels the air thin with each climb in elevation. “I’m not certain I trust this carpet to catch us…” And yet, as the wind rocks them from side to side, the carpet moves with them, keeping them balanced comfortably on top of it, despite the howling winds and shifting weight of its passengers. The carpet soars onwards, towards former Klieman territory, over snow-covered mountains separating the land of Duscur from Faerghus. The sun reflects off the surface of the snow, sparkling and shimmering, and Dimitri can’t help but smile upon looking around at the view. He’d never seen the view from so high up, and this… well, he couldn’t deny that it’s incredible. And that’s when Byleth places a delicate hand on his leg to get his attention.
“Dima… look down below…” Dimitri catches sight of Byleth’s smile, that radiant, mesmerizing smile, with a curiosity and awe in his eyes he isn’t sure if he’d seen on his husband’s face. Soaring over the peaks of the mountains, coming into view past the rolling mountains and hills, the plains open up before them. Shades of orange, gold, pink, and scarlet cover the landscape in a splendid array of color. Byleth points down at the sight in excitement, though as for Dimitri, the sight takes his breath away, and tears begin forming in his eye, blurring his vision for only a moment before running down his cheek. “Dimitri, is something wrong?” Byleth’s worried voice asks.
“No, nothing is wrong…” Dimitri responds truthfully, shaking his head and wiping his tears to look upon the landscape once more. Those colors… they match the flames that raged during the tragedy ten years ago. And now those same colors resurface, not as a blaze to scorch the land and take away life, but as blossoming flowers grown from the ashes. A sign of peace and resilience to all who laid eyes on them. “This is just… so beautiful and perfect…” he continues, peeling his gaze away from the flowers and to the soft and beautiful face of his husband. “I had no idea the fields of Duscur were covered in flowers once more… It is truly a magnificent sight to behold, just as Dedue said.”
“I agree. This view would make for an incredible painting.” Byleth smiles, leaning against Dimitri’s broad shoulder and fur cape, a sense of relaxation settling over the pair. “I know this is normally something you would say, but… there’s no one I would rather see this with than you, Dima.” The smaller man turns his gaze upwards, his green eyes twinkling in the sunlight more brightly than the swaying grass below.
“I feel much the same, my beloved…” Dimitri returns Byleth’s smile, resting his head atop the other’s and holding him close to his chest. “I suppose Claude had a point in giving us this time off.” He looks out at the field of flowers below them, inhaling deeply and taking a moment to appreciate how fresh it is. He and Byleth would inevitably have to return to their duties, but for now at least, they can revel in the beauty of the world around them from a perspective few would ever have a chance to experience. Wrapped in feelings of beauty, love, and hope, they look onward to a brighter future, knowing they can face it together, with their memories to spur them and stir their hearts.
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