[ Ingrid said I'd cut my hair, she thinks, inanely. Perhaps because her adoptive father had made some mention of it, or because they had been knee-deep in war and she hadn't wanted it to become a weakness in battle. Regardless, it's a pointless thought, one that doesn't trouble her as much as the fact that Dimitri had said he had seen her older self. Did that mean this was to be an inevitable future? But no... that can't be right. Everyone was having the same kind of dream... and that meant Felix and Marianne. Which meant that their world wasn't necessarily doomed.
The warmth fades from her fingers as she finishes her spell, though she can't move it back all that much with Dimitri's fingers encircling her wrist. She just curls them slightly to nudge his forehead, a reassurance that she's done. ]
Dimitri...
[ He has it so much worse. He's lived that time, with bodies burning and screaming before him. And his own captivity, years later, where people had thought him dead.
Her other hand remains, as solid as she can make it, pressing gentle pressure against his back. ]
I was terrified, too... of being left alone, of failing everyone. But you have my word, I won't leave you. Just like right now... I'll be here.
[Her magic siphons away the pain. It fades, like a tide rolling out — he knows it will return, but for now she’s quieted its rumble, and he feels like he can breathe, he can speak, without earthquake vibrations in his skull.
He opens his eyes to look at her, his hand bringing hers down gently so that he can see. One blue eye shines stark against its brother, scarred and pale.]
Even if I am taking us down the wrong path? Both here, and in Fódlan, I cannot comprehend why everyone has such faith in my decisions. I am groping for direction as much as the next. So I do not want these dreams to be the result of... my actions being the wrong ones.
[It is so hard, this war, when you are but a soldier in it, expected to fight and not question. He is too kind, too idealistic, to not take in the whole picture and see where the edges do not align.
Nights like these, he wonders if such perception is a mistake.]
I will never leave you alone, Mercedes. You have my word. But I fear for everyone’s safety more than my own — yours, too.
[ As Dimitri lowers her hand, Mercedes gazes at him rather steadily. With red-rimmed eyes, yes, but her irises are clear enough and searching his. When she sees him like this, it's all too easy to tell how much the war had changed him from the polite and awkward prince she'd gotten to know inside the monastery walls.
Which isn't to say he isn't still endearing, but he had suffered so much more and she had been able to do nothing for him. It's why she's even more determined to do what she can. Now. While she can. ]
You've always protected me. Here, as well. We'll all protect each other, as we have before.
… But if you want to know why we follow you... at least in my case, I believe I've told you. Even when you falter, you inevitably take another step forward towards what you feel is right. Now, you remember what it's like to push others away and what it's like to have them remain beside you regardless. You have always kept others in your mind, perhaps to your detriment. Because of that, however, I know that what you ultimately decide will be what you think is best for everyone.
And no matter how that path ends, Dimitri, I will walk it beside you and help you keep moving when you stagger.
[The reassurance, that steadfast faith, steels him as much as it breaks him apart. He does not deserve it, and the voices in his own head will remind him of that — more poignantly, his own self-doubt, disgust and guilt, will be a siren that drowns even the whispers of those wretched ghosts out. He has always been his most venomous critic.
Yet Mercedes is a lighthouse in this darkness, another hand that reaches out to pull him away from troublesome thoughts. She is right, of course; he will keep moving forward, and if he stumbles, others will be there to lift him up. Even in Fellden, where he is never certain how the war will play out, if he is making any of the right choices via his heart rather than logical, analytical processing— He has others here. Their support, their loyalty. Their friendship. A burden that strengthens him.
She is here right now, too, lit by the fire, unerring in her look.]
I…
[Something in him drains, the exhaustion overtaking, letting the acceptance of her words fill him until they soften the bones in his frame. Dimitri acts without thinking and releases her hand. The rest of him leans forward, shoulders at a slump, as he presses her forehead against her shoulder, eyes closed. He exhales a ragged, heavy breath.]
I know. And I am sorry… You should not always have to remind me. I should be strong, for everyone, for you.
You don't always have to be strong. Weren't you the one to remind me-- that I also didn't always have to act like I was fine?
[ She can't say she was expecting him to lean so close, to press against her shoulder as though he's desperately trying to ground himself, but Mercedes welcomes his presence by lifting her hand up and quietly stroking his sleep-roughened hair.
It helps her too, frankly-- to have that closeness, to remember that she isn't struggling against this alone. ]
I don't see why that has to be any different with you, Dimitri. And I don't mind telling you as many times as it will take for you to believe me.
[He shakes his head against her shoulder. Her fingers twine through his hair with the movement and locks of it splay against the fabric of her nightgown.]
I would say that a King of Faerghus must always embody strength itself, if not for the fact that all those from home have seen me in tatters once before. You, though— You have not, yet. I suppose you are getting a glimpse of it now.
[It could be worse, he has to tell himself that. He could be worse, the flames of the fireplace whisper at him.]
Tell me something kind, Mercedes. Distract me with your voice, please.
[ Her older self must have been heartbroken, to see him in the tatters he tells her of now. To know that this is merely a fraction of what he had been like makes her heart ache even now, and Mercedes takes a breath that she wills not to shake. Dimitri, caring, tormented Dimitri, feels like he's seconds away from falling apart and as she glances down at the way his hair falls across the ivory of her nightgown, she closes her eyes briefly.
What does she say to him? What would serve as a suitable distraction for him?
She honestly isn't sure, but she tries. ]
When I first came here and realized that everyone else was from my future... to be truthful, I was a little insecure. I thought that I might be lacking, or that the reason I had been brought here like that was because of some fault of my older self. Either way, perhaps I was worthless in some way. I wasn't the same Mercedes who had seen you suffer so grievously and who was fighting an entire war by your side, who had been through so much more with you than I had. And I thought you might think less of me for it.
But Dimitri... you never did. While you did seek to protect me from truths I hadn't experienced yet, I've never once thought that you were condescending or dismissive. You still treat me as someone important and valued, even if it must be strange to see and interact with me like this.
I don't think I've ever told you how grateful I am for that.
[Her voice has a rhythm to it if he listens carefully. A steady, gentle flow, all Mercedes’ own. Should he close his eyes and focus only on the timbre, it sounds like a prayer — or perhaps that is his mind throwing her very presence into adulation, as she is the only form of comfort he has in this precise moment. Either way, it grabs hold of his focus, gently hemming away the rough edges. Dimitri exhales another shuddering sigh into her shoulder; comprehension of her words comes next.
And it is this that truly hollows him out. Like her gratitude is too large for his frame, filling him up to the point where he might burst. It is the only way to explain how it makes him feel, and his jaw goes tight as he swallows.]
Worthless… why would I ever think you were worthless? Five years have not changed the core of who you are. [Unlike himself, he believes.] You, and your future self, have always been so strong. You are more of a light in the shadow than any of us. Do you not know that?
[At this, he feels the need to straighten. To lean back just slightly so he can look her in the eyes, gods be damned if she notices how his own glisten slightly.]
You are important. I do value you, perhaps more than you realize. [If she had ever doubted it before, she must not be aware of how deep his gratitude runs.] Allow me to remind you of that, again and again.
It was an irrational thought of mine. I hadn't really wished to say it, because I knew it wasn't true, but I think you can probably understand how our own minds tend to work against else more than we would want them to.
[ Mercedes smiles ruefully, not quite ready to admit that his staunch and suddenly fervent defense of her character is enough to catch her off-guard, wrapping warmly about every vulnerability that the dream had caused to resurface. But her eyes probably say more than enough, open and a little glassy. The way he stares at her makes it both impossible to look away but also a little overwhelming to gaze back at him. ]
… But you seem so sure of-- well, of me... that I can't even begin to doubt you. Rather, you mean so much to me that it's almost surprising to hear that you also hold me in such high regard. It's certainly hard to imagine myself as a light stronger than the important people around me.
[ She laughs, shakily, after a few more seconds. ]
But perhaps... please don't look at me like that, Dimitri. You're going to make me think of things I shouldn't.
[He does understand how doubt can fester and turn into something far more debilitating. But Dimitri will make all attempts to clear that from her mind; she needs to understand, deeply and inherently, how much she’s helped him, beyond only her magic knitting his wounds together on the battlefield.]
Do not doubt me. I am sure because it is true. And I am not the only one who would tell you this much.
[He is just the one who sees it so brightly, because he had been brought so low, and for so long.
Still, his eyes search her face, a question written in his look.]
[ Mercedes gazes back at him, the look in her eyes a quiet blue mingling of softness and sadness, and ultimately... conflicted. He's had a few painful nights-- they all have. He's vulnerable and weary and haunted and the last thing she wants to do is to make anything more difficult for him. If he can find any comfort in Mercedes keeping him company, she's content with that and only that.
But she has also never been anything but honest with him. Teasing, yes. Will she deflect? Also yes. But never lie.
Gradually, her gaze slides away, as though she's ashamed to admit what she says next. ]
That you're a little too beautiful for me to gaze at you so directly and not feel tempted to act upon impulse... I suppose.
[Dimitri loses eye contact, and he thinks he might have done something wrong. Said something that crossed a line. And already, he’s opening his mouth to offer an apology, when—
Well, when she says that.
Dimitri is many things. Some have even called him oblivious when it comes to the subtle readings of those around him, those cues and tells that would relay a true meaning. He is a man who relies on being earnest and straightforward; it is hard to read anything less than that for him, because it is like speaking another language he is not fluent in.
But even this cannot be misconstrued as something other than what it is. He’s speechless, for a moment, feeling blood rush to his head — with his dulled headache, it is not exactly a pleasant feeling, the heat across his face, but it is the least of what his mind even registers.]
You— I don’t…
[Is he misinterpreting? No, surely not. This moment between them, too private and too close, of course she would mean—
(A part of him wishes to lean forward, closer, reach out and touch her. Ease the haunting in his mind with her presence before him. Wouldn’t that be welcome, would it be what he wanted? Does he even know?)]
I... I would ask that you be honest with yourself and act on any impulses you have, so that I am… sure of what you mean.
[ The look she gives him, eyes wide, mouth half-open in a startled question that she catches in her throat before the words can even fully form--
Does he... even know what he's asking? How could he not know what he's asking? For that matter, how could he not be sure of what she means? Looking back on it, she's fairly certain she had been as straightforward as she could have been, and while a part of her is relieved that it doesn't appear to have made him severely uncomfortable to the point of wanting to remove himself from the situation.
Another part of her is regretting that he didn't, because apparently words were not enough, and now here Mercedes sits with messy hair and the feeling of swaying on top of the crumbling precipice of a very tall cliff.
It's nearly a minute before she speaks again, trying to reassemble her thoughts. ]
You're... certain? That you wish me to do this? It's not something I can take back if you think you might regret understanding.
[He feels like he’s flailing in those moments of silence, like maybe he’s misstepped. What a pair they make, looking at each other like they’ve just found themselves floundering in hidden (but so obvious) meaning.
He’s overthinking again, isn’t he? His mind is churning to the tempo of the fire popping and crackling against the firewood. He almost does not hear her words, something about regret.
It makes him shake his head, and it feels like it’s another person replying — some part of him that is never any good at dancing around the subject, that finds propriety a useless endeavor in this long night, haunted by exhaustion and more. They deserve something gentler, easier.]
...If you are asking to kiss me, then I am wanting you to do so before I lose my nerve.
[ It's-- so blunt, so completely distanced from Dimitri's usually careful formality that Mercedes laughs before she can stop herself. The nerves dissipate abruptly, though there's still a hint of wondering if she really ought to-- but he does seem to understand and more than that, he's encouraging it, and really, what kind of person would she be to drag this out any longer than necessary? ]
Goodness, you are...!
[ She shakes her head, still unable to suppress a smile as she finally concedes and lifts a hand to rest her palm on his cheek, one thumb fondly brushing the cheekbone. ]
… Certainly difficult to refuse, Dimitri.
[ And with that, Mercedes will be the one to lean in, to carefully press a soft kiss to his mouth. One that he's welcome to pull away from. ]
Why would he deny himself, or her, of this? If regret is to come, it won’t be in this moment. He would not be so cruel to sever whatever this suddenly is, when the nights have been so unkind to the both of them.
Though this does not chase away all of the nightmares, all of the anxiety and weariness, Dimitri feels grounded with the gentle press of her lips against his own. He closes his eyes, and can feel his heartbeat knock against his ribs.
He doesn’t pull away. He leans forward into her touch, letting it linger for just a few seconds longer.]
[ She can tell the instant he accepts it-- no, Mercedes thinks, it's more like Dimitri welcomes it instead. He's leaning in closer, and he's letting it linger. Chaste still, yes, but it's not the perfunctory kind of kiss she'd seen people do under the mistletoe.
Even Mercedes, for all of her calm and composure, is a little pink in the face when she draws back, lowering her hand to regard Dimitri as though she isn't entirely sure she succumbed to exhaustion and dreamed this entire encounter. From the way her heart is hammering in her chest, almost painfully, she imagines that's confirmation enough. ]
[There's a flush across his own cheekbones, too. It is hard to tell if it's from the heat of the flame, the dull ache behind his eyes, from his heart beating hard in his chest, or all of the above. Either way... it's dizzying, and in his vision, Dimitri's point of stark clarity is Mercedes and nothing more.]
I think so, yes. [In a voice that is barely heard over the hungry crackle of the fire. He inhales deeply, and replies with his words caught in the tremulous exhale that follows.]
...I do not know what to say. [Her teasing has the strange consequence of setting his nerves alight, his mind in a rush to find the right words, parse what this means.] How... how long have you wished to do that?
[Or is this the consequence of emotions running too high, all crystallized into a single action in a single moment.]
[ Mercedes settles her hands in her lap, twining her fingers together in a way she's found herself doing when she's not entirely sure how to voice her thoughts. Such is the case for right now, too. She could certainly say that it was a whim, that she hadn't actually intended to call out to him tonight with the thought of kissing him firmly entrenched in her mind, which... would be true.
But it wouldn't be the whole truth, would it? That would be implying that she hadn't thought about it at all. ]
I can't really... place an amount of time to such a thing. [ And she says so softly and apologetically. ]
You've always been important to me, so I can't say for certain when that feeling took on a slightly different direction... but I suppose it occurred to me when we began magic lessons. [ There had maybe been little moments of time where she'd felt something, but had needed to focus on other things, like working on healing him properly after they'd won their Fury battle. ]
At the time, I thought it would be better not to think on it too much, so I tried not to.
[He barely has time to wonder if his question makes her uncomfortable, too interested in the answer, too lost in his own earnest and curious mind, to think of much else besides. Dimitri is already rifling through his own memories, their interactions since their arrival in Fellden (and even those back on Fódlan, entrenched in his mind), picking through each experience as if there was something he had overlooked each and every time.
Is he as oblivious as people say? Ever since magic lessons? Goddess…
Upon hearing that, his heart suddenly feels like it’s caught in his throat, obstructing the proper enunciation of his words.]
You could have. [She should have.] Thought on it more, I mean. I did not know—
[He swallows, his hands curling into loose fists on his lap. His own brand of fidgeting.]
I would have liked to have known at the time. I think it would have made me feel less like a confused fool after you kissed me beneath the mistletoe. [Or when he felt a flash of jealousy over… her flutter.]
[ Mercedes laughs, more than a little sheepish now as she slips her fingers into the end of her hair, working absentmindedly through the tangles. ]
Forgive me for that! You hadn't given me any indication beyond friendship and I didn't want to confuse you unnecessarily or make you uncomfortable by trying to pursue anything that you wouldn't want. I only really noticed a difference in your reactions to me because of the mistletoe.
[He thinks anyone would have reacted that way, or so he thought so at the time-- But now, given her action in a different light, it becomes more glaringly obvious that might not have been the case. And that his own reactions following, that deep flare of protectiveness, the awkward not-knowing of what to say increasing in the face of her teasing now has the pieces slowly slotting into place.
His question, then, is as earnest as before. Dimitri attempts not to fuss with his fingers.]
... What would you like to do about it now? [ Mercedes regards him quietly, the tired shadows in her eyes rendering them a darker, cautious shade of blue. She's been more than willing to answer his questions, given that she really must have truly confused him this whole time, but-- ]
You've heard my thoughts on the matter, Dimitri... but I haven't heard yours. If you would prefer we remain friends and only that so I don't complicate your thoughts, I'll accept that.
[That's only fair, isn't? That she requests to hear his own feelings on the matter, even though they simultaneously feel like a web tangled up in his core and relatively straightforward, besides.
Should he feel a tinge of nervousness about this? Maybe a little. Maybe he does. And maybe that's what ushers out a plain-]
I do not wish to remain only friends. [Er.] I, ah... do not believe I can overlook my own feelings on the matter, now made more prevalent due to your actions, Mercedes.
[And that certainly is not a complaint. Not at all. And yet, it would be irresponsible to get so caught up in emotion alone, despite his inclinations.]
But this war hardly gives either of us time to breathe. And you are years departed from my own time back in Fódlan. There is no guarantee that what we cultivate here, we will remember at all when we return.
I am... stubborn enough to overlook all of that, to take the consequences in-hand if it means exploring my affection. But are you... fine with it?
[ She'd thought about it-- that the Mercedes of Dimitri's time is not the Mercedes who sits before him now, that perhaps their relationship isn't or will not become what she would like it to be. And maybe they'll forget. They're in the middle of an escalating conflict right now, as well, which means committing to anything might be a bad idea. Just in case something were to happen.
But Mercedes is just as stubborn as Dimitri, and she knows he knows that, so she simply gazes at him. ]
Well, if you're not too concerned with the idea of a commoner trying to be close to a King, clearly to improve her own status and take advantage of your compassion by using her feminine wiles--
[ Which... she knows he hasn't even thought about that, so she says it teasingly. ]
I would be more than fine with... well, as you put it, exploration.
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no subject
The warmth fades from her fingers as she finishes her spell, though she can't move it back all that much with Dimitri's fingers encircling her wrist. She just curls them slightly to nudge his forehead, a reassurance that she's done. ]
Dimitri...
[ He has it so much worse. He's lived that time, with bodies burning and screaming before him. And his own captivity, years later, where people had thought him dead.
Her other hand remains, as solid as she can make it, pressing gentle pressure against his back. ]
I was terrified, too... of being left alone, of failing everyone. But you have my word, I won't leave you. Just like right now... I'll be here.
no subject
He opens his eyes to look at her, his hand bringing hers down gently so that he can see. One blue eye shines stark against its brother, scarred and pale.]
Even if I am taking us down the wrong path? Both here, and in Fódlan, I cannot comprehend why everyone has such faith in my decisions. I am groping for direction as much as the next. So I do not want these dreams to be the result of... my actions being the wrong ones.
[It is so hard, this war, when you are but a soldier in it, expected to fight and not question. He is too kind, too idealistic, to not take in the whole picture and see where the edges do not align.
Nights like these, he wonders if such perception is a mistake.]
I will never leave you alone, Mercedes. You have my word. But I fear for everyone’s safety more than my own — yours, too.
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Which isn't to say he isn't still endearing, but he had suffered so much more and she had been able to do nothing for him. It's why she's even more determined to do what she can. Now. While she can. ]
You've always protected me. Here, as well. We'll all protect each other, as we have before.
… But if you want to know why we follow you... at least in my case, I believe I've told you. Even when you falter, you inevitably take another step forward towards what you feel is right. Now, you remember what it's like to push others away and what it's like to have them remain beside you regardless. You have always kept others in your mind, perhaps to your detriment. Because of that, however, I know that what you ultimately decide will be what you think is best for everyone.
And no matter how that path ends, Dimitri, I will walk it beside you and help you keep moving when you stagger.
no subject
Yet Mercedes is a lighthouse in this darkness, another hand that reaches out to pull him away from troublesome thoughts. She is right, of course; he will keep moving forward, and if he stumbles, others will be there to lift him up. Even in Fellden, where he is never certain how the war will play out, if he is making any of the right choices via his heart rather than logical, analytical processing— He has others here. Their support, their loyalty. Their friendship. A burden that strengthens him.
She is here right now, too, lit by the fire, unerring in her look.]
I…
[Something in him drains, the exhaustion overtaking, letting the acceptance of her words fill him until they soften the bones in his frame. Dimitri acts without thinking and releases her hand. The rest of him leans forward, shoulders at a slump, as he presses her forehead against her shoulder, eyes closed. He exhales a ragged, heavy breath.]
I know. And I am sorry… You should not always have to remind me. I should be strong, for everyone, for you.
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[ She can't say she was expecting him to lean so close, to press against her shoulder as though he's desperately trying to ground himself, but Mercedes welcomes his presence by lifting her hand up and quietly stroking his sleep-roughened hair.
It helps her too, frankly-- to have that closeness, to remember that she isn't struggling against this alone. ]
I don't see why that has to be any different with you, Dimitri. And I don't mind telling you as many times as it will take for you to believe me.
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I would say that a King of Faerghus must always embody strength itself, if not for the fact that all those from home have seen me in tatters once before. You, though— You have not, yet. I suppose you are getting a glimpse of it now.
[It could be worse, he has to tell himself that. He could be worse, the flames of the fireplace whisper at him.]
Tell me something kind, Mercedes. Distract me with your voice, please.
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What does she say to him? What would serve as a suitable distraction for him?
She honestly isn't sure, but she tries. ]
When I first came here and realized that everyone else was from my future... to be truthful, I was a little insecure. I thought that I might be lacking, or that the reason I had been brought here like that was because of some fault of my older self. Either way, perhaps I was worthless in some way. I wasn't the same Mercedes who had seen you suffer so grievously and who was fighting an entire war by your side, who had been through so much more with you than I had. And I thought you might think less of me for it.
But Dimitri... you never did. While you did seek to protect me from truths I hadn't experienced yet, I've never once thought that you were condescending or dismissive. You still treat me as someone important and valued, even if it must be strange to see and interact with me like this.
I don't think I've ever told you how grateful I am for that.
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And it is this that truly hollows him out. Like her gratitude is too large for his frame, filling him up to the point where he might burst. It is the only way to explain how it makes him feel, and his jaw goes tight as he swallows.]
Worthless… why would I ever think you were worthless? Five years have not changed the core of who you are. [Unlike himself, he believes.] You, and your future self, have always been so strong. You are more of a light in the shadow than any of us. Do you not know that?
[At this, he feels the need to straighten. To lean back just slightly so he can look her in the eyes, gods be damned if she notices how his own glisten slightly.]
You are important. I do value you, perhaps more than you realize. [If she had ever doubted it before, she must not be aware of how deep his gratitude runs.] Allow me to remind you of that, again and again.
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[ Mercedes smiles ruefully, not quite ready to admit that his staunch and suddenly fervent defense of her character is enough to catch her off-guard, wrapping warmly about every vulnerability that the dream had caused to resurface. But her eyes probably say more than enough, open and a little glassy. The way he stares at her makes it both impossible to look away but also a little overwhelming to gaze back at him. ]
… But you seem so sure of-- well, of me... that I can't even begin to doubt you. Rather, you mean so much to me that it's almost surprising to hear that you also hold me in such high regard. It's certainly hard to imagine myself as a light stronger than the important people around me.
[ She laughs, shakily, after a few more seconds. ]
But perhaps... please don't look at me like that, Dimitri. You're going to make me think of things I shouldn't.
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Do not doubt me. I am sure because it is true. And I am not the only one who would tell you this much.
[He is just the one who sees it so brightly, because he had been brought so low, and for so long.
Still, his eyes search her face, a question written in his look.]
What things, Mercedes?
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[ Mercedes gazes back at him, the look in her eyes a quiet blue mingling of softness and sadness, and ultimately... conflicted. He's had a few painful nights-- they all have. He's vulnerable and weary and haunted and the last thing she wants to do is to make anything more difficult for him. If he can find any comfort in Mercedes keeping him company, she's content with that and only that.
But she has also never been anything but honest with him. Teasing, yes. Will she deflect? Also yes. But never lie.
Gradually, her gaze slides away, as though she's ashamed to admit what she says next. ]
That you're a little too beautiful for me to gaze at you so directly and not feel tempted to act upon impulse... I suppose.
i can't believe this KIA
Well, when she says that.
Dimitri is many things. Some have even called him oblivious when it comes to the subtle readings of those around him, those cues and tells that would relay a true meaning. He is a man who relies on being earnest and straightforward; it is hard to read anything less than that for him, because it is like speaking another language he is not fluent in.
But even this cannot be misconstrued as something other than what it is. He’s speechless, for a moment, feeling blood rush to his head — with his dulled headache, it is not exactly a pleasant feeling, the heat across his face, but it is the least of what his mind even registers.]
You— I don’t…
[Is he misinterpreting? No, surely not. This moment between them, too private and too close, of course she would mean—
(A part of him wishes to lean forward, closer, reach out and touch her. Ease the haunting in his mind with her presence before him. Wouldn’t that be welcome, would it be what he wanted? Does he even know?)]
I... I would ask that you be honest with yourself and act on any impulses you have, so that I am… sure of what you mean.
YOU CAN'T TALK, what is this!!!
Does he... even know what he's asking? How could he not know what he's asking? For that matter, how could he not be sure of what she means? Looking back on it, she's fairly certain she had been as straightforward as she could have been, and while a part of her is relieved that it doesn't appear to have made him severely uncomfortable to the point of wanting to remove himself from the situation.
Another part of her is regretting that he didn't, because apparently words were not enough, and now here Mercedes sits with messy hair and the feeling of swaying on top of the crumbling precipice of a very tall cliff.
It's nearly a minute before she speaks again, trying to reassemble her thoughts. ]
You're... certain? That you wish me to do this? It's not something I can take back if you think you might regret understanding.
nope you started it
He’s overthinking again, isn’t he? His mind is churning to the tempo of the fire popping and crackling against the firewood. He almost does not hear her words, something about regret.
It makes him shake his head, and it feels like it’s another person replying — some part of him that is never any good at dancing around the subject, that finds propriety a useless endeavor in this long night, haunted by exhaustion and more. They deserve something gentler, easier.]
...If you are asking to kiss me, then I am wanting you to do so before I lose my nerve.
[How is that for honesty.]
wow
Goodness, you are...!
[ She shakes her head, still unable to suppress a smile as she finally concedes and lifts a hand to rest her palm on his cheek, one thumb fondly brushing the cheekbone. ]
… Certainly difficult to refuse, Dimitri.
[ And with that, Mercedes will be the one to lean in, to carefully press a soft kiss to his mouth. One that he's welcome to pull away from. ]
look what you did
Why would he deny himself, or her, of this? If regret is to come, it won’t be in this moment. He would not be so cruel to sever whatever this suddenly is, when the nights have been so unkind to the both of them.
Though this does not chase away all of the nightmares, all of the anxiety and weariness, Dimitri feels grounded with the gentle press of her lips against his own. He closes his eyes, and can feel his heartbeat knock against his ribs.
He doesn’t pull away. He leans forward into her touch, letting it linger for just a few seconds longer.]
I am only half to blame
Even Mercedes, for all of her calm and composure, is a little pink in the face when she draws back, lowering her hand to regard Dimitri as though she isn't entirely sure she succumbed to exhaustion and dreamed this entire encounter. From the way her heart is hammering in her chest, almost painfully, she imagines that's confirmation enough. ]
Were you able to confirm what I meant?
[ Okay, she has to tease just a little. ]
you don't give yourself enough credit
I think so, yes. [In a voice that is barely heard over the hungry crackle of the fire. He inhales deeply, and replies with his words caught in the tremulous exhale that follows.]
...I do not know what to say. [Her teasing has the strange consequence of setting his nerves alight, his mind in a rush to find the right words, parse what this means.] How... how long have you wished to do that?
[Or is this the consequence of emotions running too high, all crystallized into a single action in a single moment.]
no, that's you
[ Mercedes settles her hands in her lap, twining her fingers together in a way she's found herself doing when she's not entirely sure how to voice her thoughts. Such is the case for right now, too. She could certainly say that it was a whim, that she hadn't actually intended to call out to him tonight with the thought of kissing him firmly entrenched in her mind, which... would be true.
But it wouldn't be the whole truth, would it? That would be implying that she hadn't thought about it at all. ]
I can't really... place an amount of time to such a thing. [ And she says so softly and apologetically. ]
You've always been important to me, so I can't say for certain when that feeling took on a slightly different direction... but I suppose it occurred to me when we began magic lessons. [ There had maybe been little moments of time where she'd felt something, but had needed to focus on other things, like working on healing him properly after they'd won their Fury battle. ]
At the time, I thought it would be better not to think on it too much, so I tried not to.
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Is he as oblivious as people say? Ever since magic lessons? Goddess…
Upon hearing that, his heart suddenly feels like it’s caught in his throat, obstructing the proper enunciation of his words.]
You could have. [She should have.] Thought on it more, I mean. I did not know—
[He swallows, his hands curling into loose fists on his lap. His own brand of fidgeting.]
I would have liked to have known at the time. I think it would have made me feel less like a confused fool after you kissed me beneath the mistletoe. [Or when he felt a flash of jealousy over… her flutter.]
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Forgive me for that! You hadn't given me any indication beyond friendship and I didn't want to confuse you unnecessarily or make you uncomfortable by trying to pursue anything that you wouldn't want. I only really noticed a difference in your reactions to me because of the mistletoe.
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His question, then, is as earnest as before. Dimitri attempts not to fuss with his fingers.]
So what shall we do about it now?
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You've heard my thoughts on the matter, Dimitri... but I haven't heard yours. If you would prefer we remain friends and only that so I don't complicate your thoughts, I'll accept that.
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Should he feel a tinge of nervousness about this? Maybe a little. Maybe he does. And maybe that's what ushers out a plain-]
I do not wish to remain only friends. [Er.] I, ah... do not believe I can overlook my own feelings on the matter, now made more prevalent due to your actions, Mercedes.
[And that certainly is not a complaint. Not at all. And yet, it would be irresponsible to get so caught up in emotion alone, despite his inclinations.]
But this war hardly gives either of us time to breathe. And you are years departed from my own time back in Fódlan. There is no guarantee that what we cultivate here, we will remember at all when we return.
I am... stubborn enough to overlook all of that, to take the consequences in-hand if it means exploring my affection. But are you... fine with it?
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But Mercedes is just as stubborn as Dimitri, and she knows he knows that, so she simply gazes at him. ]
Well, if you're not too concerned with the idea of a commoner trying to be close to a King, clearly to improve her own status and take advantage of your compassion by using her feminine wiles--
[ Which... she knows he hasn't even thought about that, so she says it teasingly. ]
I would be more than fine with... well, as you put it, exploration.
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