Just a Three Hopes sprite for Easwith that I spent, maybe, eight hours on?
I decided she can look more regal because my head tells me that her and Dimitri are at least courting. Perhaps engaged. Perhaps even married. One shall not know for a while in my case XD But who am I to deny myself serotonin?
Def had to alter some things because some things I simply cannot part with. But I remembered her freckles and scar :3
Don’t quite know what her resting face may tell us, but I inadvertently made her look sad. It works though - she is a subtly depressed sponge that is that underappreciated pillar in the friend group :3
Chasing Daybreak XIV (Dimitri x OC - Azure Moon Route)
Pairing: Dimitri x Easwith
Summary: Easwith Holdfréond is a childhood friend of Dimitri’s. The Tragedy of Duscur nearly took him from her, and it’s just her luck that she realises her feelings for him go far deeper than friendship during their time at the Academy. That’s what her blushes tell her when he compliments her, or when anyone mentions her staring at him for a moment too long. And when he’s not around, she feels sullen. Is it a fleeting fancy? Or are her feelings as true as her surname suggests? Does Dimitri feel the same? If he does, will it last? Or does his lust for vengeance stand in their way? Could he ever see her as more than a friend? Did he ever care at all?
(An Azure Moon/Blue Lion Route fic with my OC)
Genre: Multiple
Genre of the chapter: Some fluff, tiniest smidge of angst, the pining!
Warnings: - combat, injury mention, bickering, fluff, the pining!
Chapters:
Prologue
Act 1 - Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14
Words: 4, 533
Three Houses/Three Hopes Masterpost: here
AO3: here
A/N: First half is Dimitri’s POV, Second is Easwith’s POV. Because reasons ;)
Comments and reblogs are most welcome and greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy :)
Tagging: @misselko @mommymooze If anyone would like to be tagged, let me know :)
Dimitri’s legs burned from how fast he ran back to the scene, lance in hand. Lady Ingrid, Easwith’s Aunt, was adamant that he ran straight back to help his fellow classmates as she passed him her lance to use temporarily.
There was no arguing with her - a cousin of Lord Rodrigue’s, though thrice removed, combined with living alongside several Holdfréonds for near twenty-five years made her someone no one wanted to anger. Not even royalty.
And Easwith - Goddess he hoped she was okay. He had a gut feeling she ignored his words, stubborn as she was. If Flayn was down there, he had little doubt she would have charged in recklessly to get her help as soon as possible. It was something he had always admired, even if it often got her in trouble.
If anything happened to her, especially now, he would tear the world apart to find who hurt her He would spill their blood in her name and -
His ears picked up on the sound of steel and iron, the sound of her voice coming from the tunnel. They interrupted his thoughts and filled him with brief relief.
“With! Hold on - aim for his elbow -”
“You try aiming for any of him when -” a clatter and a cough - “when he has a bloody scythe and then you can boss me around! You just deal with everyone else - Mercedes, try to help Flayn when you can. I’ve got this one!”
Swith!
Dimitri hurried down the steps, light emanating vaguely up them so he could barely make out their outlines. His nickname for her echoed in his head over and over as if the more he thought about it, the safer she would be.
His heart pounded in his chest once he reached the bottom. Please be safe. Goddess, keep her safe. “Professor, I - “ Dimitri scanned the area. He could see Ingrid and Ashe. Felix and Annette. Mercedes and Sylvain. He could see Dedue and the Professor, all fighting people who looked to be the same ones from the Mausoleum. But where was Easwith?
“Where is she? Where’s Easwith?”
The Sword of the Creator showed its power again as a chain that arched to its target. “Near Flayn.”
Sylvain pointed in the direction. “You missed her dragging -”
“She’s fighting Death Knight.” Felix’s annoyance at the situation was emphasised by a stab at a foe. What!? Death Knight was here!? And she was - “She foolishly -”
“Easwith!” Dimitri kicked into action, running into the fray and swept a foe off their feet and onto the floor without a thought. “I’m on my way!”
“No!” She sounded exhausted- how long had she been holding on? He managed to catch sight of her. She was lower than she normally was, tender on her healing leg, scraped and dirtied. Her breaths were laboured though she kept them controlled. What was she thinking? Why was she putting herself in danger by continuing like that? “It’s too dangerous!”
“Fall back to me!” He blocked an attack with ease. “You’re barely standing!”
“I’ve. Got. This.”
She didn’t. Her reactions were slowing even though every swing she made was as confident as always. Her footwork was turning sloppy, barely dodging anything. Dimitri had to get to her whether she liked it or not. There was no way she was going to keep it up much longer in her condition - without injury and with plenty of rest, she would be able to stand a higher chance. But like this, she needed someone to take the pressure off her. She needed help.
Dmitri pushed past another pair of foes, leaving them behind in the dirt.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Sylvain heading in her direction as if thinking the same thing he had been. He did not trust Sylvain to not use it as an excuse to try to flirt with her again, but he had faith he would cause enough of a distraction to give her a chance to breathe and Mercedes an opportunity to cast several healing spells if she was able to get close enough.
Dimitri could not bear to let anything happen to Easwith - not when he needed to tell her the truth. Not when she had a family that loved her dearly. The thought of her joining the ghosts of his father, stepmother and Glenn shook him to his core. Should she ever leave in such a way, when he knew he could prevent it, what sanity would he have left? The last of his friends and allies would be gone - the only one who only called him by name and never treated him differently.
He did not lie when he said he would tear the world apart to avenge her. If she were to ever die by another’s hand, it would feel as if what remained of him would be killed with it and only unending torment would reside within him. Another name to add to his list for true justice. To do the bidding of the dead.
He could not let them happen as long as he breathed air. So long as he breathed, he would keep her safe.
So long as she was safe, it mattered not to him who protected her as much as he would sooner it be himself - he had their back from here, fighting off the rabble. For so long as she was safe, he would know the gentleness of her eyes and the love he did not deserve that she made him feel.
“Sylvain!”
“Don’t cry about me now, Easwith. I gave up trying to woo you, you know? I hate making girls cry.”
Dimitri threw his gaze away from his opponent and to the scene. Sylvain was leaning on the wall, Death Knight temporarily focused on Felix, next to Flayn. Mercedes was already contending with him, looking more concerned than usual.
“I told you not to do that, Gautier!”
He laughed in mirth. “His Highness would be heartbroken, you know? Falling for a cute, reckless girl like you. “
“Shut up! This isn’t funny you absolute idiot!” He caught the faint crack in her voice and it physically hurt his heart to hear it. “Get to safety once you’re healed enough. Get the damn infirmary. Get anywhere but here!”
Dimitri ran forward, any sense of thought flung out of the metaphorical window.
“Mitri, what are you -” He parried the scythe swiftly. “By all the - why is it that all the men but Dedue don’t listen to me when I say ‘no’? Does that word not exist?”
“Not when it comes to pretty girls -”
“Could you act injured and stop being so absurd!”
A backwards jump to dodge, the wind of the scythe cold against his face, and a forward thrust to counter before Death Knight could recover, then -
Dimitri felt his side hit the floor before he felt the fresh graze on his right shoulder. He felt the weight of Easwith’s body on him before he felt the mild sting of her knee hitting his during the fall.
“I’m sorry!” Even now in such a predicament, she was swift to reel back - or attempt to if it wasn’t so slippery. He, too, tried to help her. “I didn’t want him impaling you or - Goddess, you’re hurt - I’ll get you to -”
“Now you can die together.” Death Knight seemed entertained by the notion, looking him in the eye. Dimitri managed to stand, pulling Easwith behind him and lance in hand. Bleeding or no, he would not falter. He would not let such a horror take anyone else he loved away. He had looked death in the eye more than once. And he would do it again. Over and over. “How joyous…”
“Dimitri, Easwith, move.” The Professor approached and Dimitri pulled Easwith away - she was not fighting such an order, muscles too tired by the way she partly leaned on him to relieve the weight. He could not help but hold her a little tighter than he otherwise would, still holding her close despite the arching chain that rendered Death Knight’s armour.
“Kill them…”
A glimmer of purple - nothing longer than a second. He stepped a little to the right, fully hiding Easwith from the newcomer.
“Halt. You are having a bit too much fun.”
A mask he had thought he would not see again so soon, connected to a helmet with a long, red plume that matched the cape they wore. Emotionless and porcelain - hollow. Dimitri’s blood ran cold and his face hard.
“You’re getting in the way of my game.”
Dimitri’s grasp on his lance tightened.
The mysterious figure harumphed. “You’ll have more opportunities to play soon enough. Your work here is done.”
“Understood. I will go…” Death Knight disappeared just as he had done before - just as Easwith consistently reminded him this past month. And this figure that he clearly worked for…
“We will cross paths again. I am the Flame Emperor. It is I who will reforge this world.”
“You will fail.” He barely registered Easwith’s hand brush against his, more surprised over her voice sounding clear amidst the dripping water and her form in front of him. Her tone was that which accompanied her glowering gaze - emphasised, dark as if straining to contain the rise in her voice. “Kidnapping people, locking them in cold prison cells, striking fear in those you oppose… that is no change.” The tip of her - his - sword was pointed at the chin of the mask. “I do not know what world you desire, but if those methods are the only ones you know… your world is a much darker one than this one already is.”
A moment of quiet contemplation from an unchanging face. “We shall see about that.”
Just as quickly as they arrived, they were gone.
“I don’t trust that Flame Emperor. The speech pattern was far too familiar.” Easwith sheathed his sword into the scabbard at her hip and folded her arms, hands grasping her sides as she shivered. “I want to know who’s under that helmet, ask questions, get answers.”
“We all agree to that, Easwith.” Dimitri removed his cape and tied it around her arms. “But it can wait…”
Her shoulders lowered as she sighed, her fingers keeping the fabric in such a way it wrapped around her snuggly. She had brought it up to her nose, as he had often seen her do with blankets, and he wondered… did she know how endearing she was?
“Yes, you’re right. We need to get Flayn, Sylvain, and you to the infirmary.”
“Easwith… I don’t need -”
“Yes, you do. That cut needs cleaning and bandaged to prevent any possible infection - don’t give me that frown, you would tell me to do the exact same thing and you know it.”
Easwith was right, of course. He would. He did. He didn’t need to. For, ever since her father’s passing, she cleaned every cut, even the smallest. He could not argue.
“Alright. But,” he looked her in the eye. “You must get yourself checked over whilst I am there, as well.”
“Okay.” His eyes widened at her lack of disagreement, even in her expression. She leaned into his side in exhaustion, legs barely able to hold most of her weight. “I will.”
___
Easwith sat down softly at Dimitri's bedside. Her limbs ached and her right thigh and left foot were bandaged - not from new injuries, but for added support. She had been most fortuitous to have come out of her scrap with Death Knight with mostly bruises and a minor cut.
She supposed Dimitri was also lucky to have only come out of it with a few scrapes that would take a few days to heal - at least, they would if he had any intention of taking it easy. Easwith's aunt knew he would be unlikely to, but gave him restrictions. Naturally, she asked both Easwith and Dedue to make sure he kept to them: no reaching to take things or put things back, no lifting normally heavy things even with his crest. As it was, he was having an overnight stay in the infirmary to be on the safe side due to the location of the scrap, alongside his previous injury history and the time it took to get medical attention. He was displeased by that and Easwith, who knew he was fine, began to question otherwise.
Easwith sighed and softly took Dimitri's hand. His hands were always warmer than hers, always gentle. Now without his gauntlets, she could see the beginnings of a small bruise on his knuckles in the candlelight where a weapon had caught him. She could feel roughened skin from years of training. She saw old scars from Duscur - scratches from twigs so faint they almost blended into his skin.
It had been less than a year since she last saw them and she had almost forgotten what his hands looked like. Had almost forgotten how short his nails were and how she could see the veins on the back and palm of his hands, only emphasised by how he wore his gauntlets every day. She engulfed his hand with both of hers.
"You worry me to no end."
It was a quiet statement, not even loud enough to be deemed a whisper: a movement of lips as if she was speaking aloud. Though the infirmary was empty except for them, an unconscious Flayn and the fast asleep Sylvain, the latter of which she cared very little on if he saw or heard her, she was well aware of how light of a sleeper Dimitri had become over the past few years.
In truth, she did not recall him ever being the heaviest of sleepers - he had always been easy to stir - but since Duscur, it seemed like he didn't know the meaning of sleep. For him to finally be resting, or seemingly asleep, Easwith didn't want to wake him. Even on accident.
Yet her worry had made her unable to sleep. And her inability to sleep had brought her here. It was her fault he was here in the first place. If she was quicker on her feet. If she wasn’t injured in the first place. If she had just listened. If she didn't let her emotions get the better of her. If she didn't -
Easwith lifted his hand gently and enclosed his fingers around her hand with her left. For all the pros of having two crests (not that she noticed them), being harder to take down had yet to kick in.
Perhaps being a boring, bumbling baffoon who had no worth, even with her crests, with the exception of being a letdown that worried her friend to no end, should have been added to the list of traits. And the ability to seemingly make herself a hare hiding from a plough should have been added to the list of useless talents she possessed.
It was with a ginger movement that she pressed her forehead to the side of Dimitri's hand. He was alright - she knew that. She knew he would be out for a week or so but nothing more than ten days to be on the safe side. Yet Easwith couldn't help but feel an unpleasant concoction of guilt and fear. Guilt for him taking the blows meant for her, guilt for ignoring his words. Guilt for causing so much worry he felt the need to cut through to her on exhausted legs after rushing back from the Infirmary. Guilt even for Sylvain, who had only gone up there so she wouldn't get severely injured - give her a chance to catch her breath.
The fear came from envisioning the furrowed brows on Dimitri's face as he gave her an earful. She could see the scene: she would be sitting with her eyes down at the ground, feeling so weak and opposite to her namesake as she tried so hard not to cry at how disappointed she knew he was, at the inability to defend herself loud enough, just saying quiet words and hoping he heard them. Fear at how she felt he would not speak to her. Fear of failing him…
And no matter how often she told herself she was being ridiculous, there was always a first time she wasn’t.
"I should have taken those hits, not you." She whispered her words now, sighing gently. "I know you would think those words foolish, but I cannot bear seeing you hurt, even if it is as seemingly tiny as this. You cannot give me an earful for doing it and then do it yourself that's -” a breath “these aren't tree roots or stones or fields anymore. The worst injury isn't a sprain or a graze to the knee. It's a cracked skull, implement, dismemberment. It's... it's... " The words died in her throat at its near clamping tightness, unhelped by its dryness from the cold she was already developing.
Easwith lowered his hand. Her fingers did not let go. Instead, she ran her thumb over the middle set of knuckles on his fingers. They looked longer now without his gauntlets. It was against her better judgement that she lightly kissed his knuckles, wishing that they would heal quickly. It was so light she would be surprised if his subconsciousness even felt the ghost of it. As much as she wished he did, that his hand would shift and his eyes would open, and his fingers would graze her cheek and his voice would encourage her to look at him... she knew that he would be unaware once more and that when morning came, and she greeted him with a smile, she would return to swallowing her feelings. They were not to be. It was clear that he did not feel the same. And if he did... he did not show it. Not as far as she was aware.
She inhaled… and exhaled, placing his hand at his side. Easwith was aware it was gone two, well past curfew. If she did not go now, where her eyes were heavy and body exhausted, she would be found in the morning awkwardly sleeping bent over with her head on what little space was left on the bed. If her Aunt were to find her, it would be embarrassing, most certainly. But with how early she knew Dimitri would be about… it would be most humiliating.
Quietly, she stood. There was a quiet noise she recognised as Dimitri stirring. She could not help but smile softly at how it had barely changed since their camping days, times when she would shake him awake and he would only pull the blankets over his head.
Her smile quickly fell to a frown at the furrow of his brows, beaking the once peaceful expression on his face that had been etched in worry for too many hours all month, and the thin layer of sweat that began on his forehead.
Ah. Easwith looked around the infirmary. Bowl, water, cloth. The necessities she supposed he would want when he woke up.
They were easy to spot - the infirmary always had water on hand in case of severe illness (her Aunt always made sure of that no matter where she was, and always far more than anyone knew what to do with). She took a small bowl and filled it with water, then went into the washcloth drawer and took one.
“...Swith?” The groggy voice of Dimitri caught her attention as she draped the cloth over her forearm and carried the bowl over to him. She smiled gently as she put the bowl at his bedside table. “Why…? What are you…?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” She dampened the cloth and passed it to him as she sat back in her seat. “Too worried over everything.” Easwith grasped her cloak tightly around her with chilled fingers, sniffling slightly from the cold. “I know you’re okay, but as soon as my aunt said she wanted to stay here overnight to play it safe, the niggling doubt happened, you know? It should be me in this bed, not you, Dimitri. These injuries were mine to take. You should not be taking the punishment for my foolishness."
"You say that," Easwith looked to Dimitri, his fringe sticking to his face from the water and his eyes earnest, "but you would do the same in my stead." There was no smile, but there was no frown as he put the cloth to one side neatly. Only sincerity. He ever so slightly pulled her hand towards him. "I know you would not have died, but your energy was clearly fading. Maybe you would have sustained an injury that left you unable to walk, perhaps it would have killed you eventually." His voice was as gentle as his touch and she found herself shifting closer, sitting on the edge of the bed instead as if it was he pulling her to do so. "I could not bear such a thing. You are my dearest friend - you always have been. Dedue is like a brother to me, and Rodrigue a second father, but you... there are no words to describe it accurately. To describe you as family would almost be a disservice to you and your family."
"Mitri..." Easwith felt even guiltier over her actions and she turned her eyes to his hand, holding hers so delicately. "How can I be more than family when I caused these injuries thinking I could hold up?"
"I caused them to myself." The way Dimitri lightly tucked her hair behind her ear and settled the palm of his hand on her cheek was a surprise to her. But it was most welcome. Easwith settled against his palm, holding it tenderly in place. She welcomed the warmth of it. She welcomed the unknown of his touch outside of armour against breaking out skin from stress. She welcomed the forbidden taste of something more than friendship. And in response, she mirrored it with her free hand, tucking hair behind his ear just as he had done. Cradling his cheek just as he was doing.
"I could not bear to see you go through that." Dimitri's voice was quiet, a whisper that cut through the night, the fingers of his left in her hair with a gentle touch, thumb running across her cheekbone and the edge of her orbital bone and blueness of her dark circle. “Not again.”
Easwith couldn't help but smile at his words - not out of joy, for seeing him hurt because of her was nothing joyous, but because it sounded familiar. Something a little too like her. She supposed it was true: spend enough time with someone, you begin to mimic them.
"We must be quite a troublesome pair to everyone then. Neither of us can bear to see the other hurt, so we risk our lives and the other's sanity. As much as the other dislikes it. It's what people do when it comes to those they care about, right?"
"Right." There was a quiet joy in Dimitri's voice, she noticed. and it remained even as he continued. "It is late, Easwith. You should get to bed before someone notices you."
"I know, but… I just want to know you’re alright, you know?"
A moment of thoughtful silence passed and he sat up fully. "Do you remember when you sprained your ankle?"
"How could I forget?" Sometimes in the coldest winters, or at the slightest misstep, even the smallest trip, she felt it I'm the arch of her foot. She felt it when her legs were crossed and something dug into her ankle. She felt weather changes, the warmth into cold and the cold to wet and humid, right in the joint for a week as it adapted (which her brother always teased her for, much to her dismay).
But what she remembered fondly, although she felt so guilty even now, was how Dimitri held her. Cared for her. She was so used to being the one that made sure he was okay when he had hurt himself that she didn't even expect aid. But there was something about hearing her gasp and a stomach-churning crack (that had not been bone at all) that had him pulling a panic rope. She supposed she remembered it because it was the first time (and, theoretically, the only time) he ever picked her up.
She still recalled the sweat that drenched her. The brief moment where she felt she was going to. faint. She still recalled the shaking of shock five minutes later. How certain angles had her foot shaking uncontrollably during the healing process. She remembered being unable to sleep and checking that her foot was still okay. The first thing she did was throw off her shoe and check for broken bones in her foot whilst cursing at the tree root and trying so hard to stay calm, telling herself it was okay. She was grateful Dimitri was there. And she apologised for soaking his shoulder with her tears of agony. For worrying him so completely that he still twitched whenever she wobbled.
"Seeing you depressed over such an injury, frustrated over feeling a lack of independence, I realised something." Easwith tilted her head in curiosity, "I realised how much I could feel your pain in those moments. How right your grandmother was over such matters…"
"If it is of any consolation, though I doubt it is comforting to know, I noticed it, too. That when you care and love someone, you feel what they feel without knowing.” With her sleeve, she lightly dabbed at his damp eyebrow to stop water from dripping onto his eyelashes. “I am surprised you haven’t noticed how much I value your hugs with that method though."
His quiet laugh was beautiful to her. "I always wondered why you asked me, in truth. I was always afraid of breaking you. But I couldn't deny you one, could I? Not when you asked so earnestly." Dimitri pressed his forehead to hers before sighing. “At any rate, you should go back to bed. I’m alright.”
“Alright. I believe you this time.” Easwith gently hugged him, uncaring about the dried sweat in the ends of his hair, for a moment that was difficult to pull away from. She offered a gentle squeeze, her chin on the top of his shoulder. When she managed to pull away, she did so with a gentle squeeze of his hand. “Good night, Mitri. Rest up. I’ll see you in the morn.”
“Wait, Swith, I -” he paused, mouth closing and then… he altered as if changing his mind. “I’m glad. That you’re alright.”
“I’m glad you are, too. Now sleep. We’ll talk more later. If I stay any longer, I will never go back to bed. And that could be quite the trouble I’ll be in.”
“I’ll walk you -”
“No, no. I’ll be alright.” Easwith led him back down. “You rest that shoulder a few more hours. You’ll be in even more trouble than I, not only as House Leader but also as a patient in the infirmary. I’ll see you in the morning, I promise. Good night.”
“Good night… Swith.”
just a smol compilation of all (but one) dimiswith pieces I’ve posted since December (the top left is part of a comic i’ve got going on but i like the will and energy to finish it)
I am a simple soul: put Mitri and Easwith together and I’m verr happy and soft
Saw @elegiac-boar do this for Dimitri, but thought it would be useful to do this for Easwith :) and maybe her six living biological family members, two of which are her kids <3
Tagging whoever wishes to I guess?
Low-key nervous as if I don’t have a multi-chaptered fic with her and like I don’t talk about her every day dammit it. Here goes though!
NAME. Easwith Strælboranthryth Holdfréond (playlist for anyone interested! It’s incomplete and I have attempted to place it in time order from pre-duscur to post-feth :3)
BODY
height: 152cm/5ft 2 (she reached max height at 12 when she hit puberty :( was only taller than Dimitri for two years :D)
strength ★★★★☆ (most of it is from training with Dimitri for 11+ years in addition to her family crest giving her stronger bones. She kinda hits harder than she thinks but she can’t break things that are naturally harder to break)
dexterity ★★★★☆ (pre-timeskip she’s an archer and swordswoman but naturally progresses to focus more on melee than ranged so loses some of it)
health ★★★★☆ (she may be a depressed bean, but her immune system is pretty difficult to knock down. Also resistent to magic and some strong poisons! Loves sweet food too much to stop and is a fussy eater with little appetite and a small stomach.)
energy ★★★☆☆ (mentally tired every day_
beauty ★★★★☆ (they say she’s beautiful, she thinks otherwise. But she’s neutral over her appearance anyway)
style ★★★☆☆ (clothes serves a function. She is no fashionista but she looks presentable. Wears armoured boots on formal occassions - like the ball hehehe - with long dresses because she cannot walk in heels. Also armoured boots help her feel confident enough to survive :3_
hygiene ★★★★☆ (she washes her hair once a week even though she gets oily roots - hormones! - due to dry-er ends, so she doesn’t like washing too many times otherwise they go like straw. She wears scents when she remembers. Sometimes she forgets because depression does that. She tries though!)
SKILLS.
perception ★★★★☆
communication ★★★☆☆ (she’s such an awkward bean but tries her best! Good at communicating with friends, struggles sometimes with family because she doesn’t want to worry them, over over over formal to strangers but she tries!)
persuasion ★★★★☆ (she has a way with words and her calm way of addressing issues, even in an argument, gets her further than she realises!)
mediation ★★★☆☆ -> ★★★★☆ (pre-timeskip she has to work up courage to do it when it isn’t her dearests)
literacy ★★★★★
creativity ★★★★☆ (she writes poetry and has a way with words that is simply poetic but full of heart every time. She claims she sucks at writing poetry XD.)
cooking ★★★☆☆ (used to bake and cook a lot when visiting DImitri, but then depression happened and it took a hit. She works to get it back though after the war!)
tech savvy ★★★☆☆ (she knows what she knows :3)
combat ★★★★★ (fearghun nobility and can use three weapons. What can I say.)
survival ★★★★☆ (uses her common sense and smerts, but morals and ethics make it a little less useful)
stealth ★★★★☆ (one downside pre-timeskip was that she was heavy footed. But post-timeskip she’s melee based so she loses it quite a bit. Still has moments!)
street smarts ★★★★★
seduction ★☆☆☆☆ (unless bashfulness is seductive, it’s only the slight not-very-good flirting she attempts post-Fhirdiad and post feth with Dimitri. Even then that’s low-key to see him blush hehehehehe)
luck ★★☆☆☆ (she isn’t unlucky - though she is all things considered - but she finds silver linings and has a saying ‘tings either happen or they don’t. No luck about it.’)
handling animals ★★★★★
pacifying children ★★★★☆ (only struggles with the ones that back-chat)
MIND.
intelligence ★★★★★
happiness ★★★☆☆ (life happens but she focuses on the good tings in life like nature, friend(s), family and not letting people dictate who she can and cannot be. She is a little bit of a philosopher through everything.)
spirituality ★★★★☆ (only in nature - not religion.)
confidence ★★★☆☆ (she has moments underneath her lack of self-esteem! She certainly gains it during the war)
humour ★☆☆☆☆ (She’s the butt of the jokes hehe.)
anxiety ★★★★☆ (she hides it well because she /is/ the Holdfréond heir and an older sister, but she worries a lot, too, and any talks of peace she has little trust in it)
patience ★★★★☆ -> ★★★★★ (she’s a damn saint in Dimitri’s eyes I have decided. She’s absolutely patient with him and Claude and her brother and Sylvain - normally - and everyone. Apart from herself.)
passion ★★★★★ (she has a lot of passion but hides it in front of most, not her closest though.)
nice ★☆☆☆☆ mean
brave ★☆☆☆☆ cowardly
pacifist ☆☆★☆☆ violent (sometimes in war there is no point to peaceful actions, but she will always take the least violent means to an end unless she. is. pissed.)
thoughtful ☆★☆☆☆ impulsive
agreeable ☆☆★☆☆ contrary (has her moments but always tries to find the middle ground )
idealistic ☆☆★☆☆ pragmatic
frugal ★☆☆☆☆ big spender (her family spends most of its money on its people to keep them safe and educated, so it’s a big part of her)
extrovert ☆☆☆★☆ introvert
collected ☆★☆☆☆ wild (keeps herself to herself and is a calm individual, but she still has a carefree side from time to time.)
wealth ★★★★★ (technically speaking but it feels more like a three star for her family members specifically)
honest ☆★☆☆☆ deceptive
leader ☆★☆☆☆ follower
polite ★☆☆☆☆ rude
political ★☆☆☆☆ indifferent
BELIEFS.
higher power ★☆☆☆☆ (she doesn’t believe in a higher power, but doesn’t care if others do)
fate/destiny ★★★★☆ (they’re big things in Fearghus so only makes sense)
magic ★★★★★
soulmates ★★★☆☆ (her soulmate is Dimitri - in otherwords, friends for her entire life. It’s terrifying to risk it all but she’s a romantic so cannot deny it)
good and evil ★★☆☆☆ (She has a saying ‘there is pure evil, not pure good. But even in evil, there is an intention that they think is good. Pure good is to be ignorant. The world is not light and shade, there are mid-tones, too. People are the same.)
luck ★☆☆☆☆ (things happen and that’s her philosophy)
PRIORITIES.
family ★★★★★
friends ★★★★★
love ★★★☆☆ (when your best friend is the one you love it’s, again, a little scary.) -> ★★★★★ (it works out in the end :’) )
home ★★★★★
health ★★★★☆ (always one to care more on others than herself, but she does what she can for herself, too)
praise ★★☆☆☆ (can give it, but doesn’t know how to recieve it without surprise)
justice ★★★★★ (the lawful kind, mind you! That’s a big value of her family!)
truth ★★★★★ (coincides with justice, but also because the murder of her cousin wasn’t investigated properly so his killer’s still on the loose. Also Honesty is one of the values of her people, too!)
power ★★★☆☆ (She has it, but never seeks it. Increases once she marries Dimitri naturally, but only uses it to keep people safe and make changes rather than to flaunt)
fame ☆☆☆☆☆
wealth ★☆☆☆☆ (only because she knows it’s important to help others to the best she can with security and education if there’s money. Otherwise it’s a little harder - not impossible, just harder. Never ever ever seeks it for herself though!)
others' opinions ★★☆☆☆ (she gave up on that one when she was thirteen after Duscur. Only really matters to her that her bestie that is Dimitri still wants to be her friend and that her little brother is proud of her)
Chasing Daybreak XIII (Dimitri x OC - Azure Moon Route)
Pairing: Dimitri x Easwith
Summary: Easwith Holdfréond is a childhood friend of Dimitri’s. The Tragedy of Duscur nearly took him from her, and it’s just her luck that she realises her feelings for him go far deeper than friendship during their time at the Academy. That’s what her blushes tell her when he compliments her, or when anyone mentions her staring at him for a moment too long. And when he’s not around, she feels sullen. Is it a fleeting fancy? Or are her feelings as true as her surname suggests? Does Dimitri feel the same? If he does, will it last? Or does his lust for vengeance stand in their way? Could he ever see her as more than a friend? Did he ever care at all?
(An Azure Moon/Blue Lion Route fic with my OC)
Genre: Multiple
Genre of the chapter: Some fluff, some bickering, but some comforting going on, too.
Warnings: - combat, injury mention, bickering,
Chapters:
Prologue
Act 1 - Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13
Words: 6, 269
AO3: here
A/N: Comments and reblogs are most welcome and greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy :) Some translations: aglæcwíf = a wretch of a woman/a vile crone níðing = a wretch/villain/outlaw/one who commits a vile action.
Tagging: @misselko @mommymooze If anyone would like to be tagged, let me know :)
3rd Horsebow Moon
“Easwith, wait!” She paused midstep, buttoning up her jacket, and turned to face Dimitri. He looked relieved when he caught up, only to begin walking by her side when she started once more.”I’ll escort you to your room. If that is okay?”
“I don’t mind if you do …” She shrugged and kept his pace with ease, tucking her fringe behind her ear. It was a request that would have come from seemingly nowhere had it not been for the past few days where he had done the same thing. Easwith noticed a trend on such occasions: he was always within reach, to such an extent that she could very easily take his pinky with hers without ever having to move her arm close, and choosing the most well-lit areas to walk. Had he noticed over the years how she did not like walking in the dark? Or was it…
Oh. The rumour Annette mentioned. About a masked individual, Death Knight, prowling in the darkness… He who was at the mausoleum. He who looked and sounded like death itself… What… what if there were more than one victim? What if he was after someone else…
Was Dimitri worried about her from how suddenly Flayn had disappeared into almost nothing? Was he standing so close he may as well have been holding her hand in case he needed to pull her to safety? His sword was on her hip at all times, dagger beneath her pillow on the off chance… He was unarmed and yet he would -
Not that she could think of that now.
“Has the investigation inside come up with anything?” The question fell from her mouth without prompting.
“Nothing. Not any sign of her.” Dimitri looked at her. “Anything outside?”
“Just as empty.” For two full days, they had been searching and still no sign. “There is a questionable individual who I’m following a lead on in case she saw anything, but it doesn’t meet what we know so far. More than likely a different case, but I’m willing to look into it anyway. Flayn could be anywhere by now if Death Knight got her - you saw how he teleported. He could have teleported anywhere he wanted. Maybe even outside of Fódlan -”
“We must not think of that scenario, my friend. We have to focus on the possibility of her still being here.”
“But if we’re looking in the wrong place, it’s useless searching! There is no sign anywhere so far. If she is here, we may have to go through records and look at old maps for any forgotten rooms or something in case she is right under our nose. Despite that, we still have to investigate properly, meaning we can’t ignore the possibility that she isn’t here. I’ve already alerted both sides of my family on the off chance. I suspect they’re increasing patrols. The last thing I want is for Seteth to suffer the same way my family did when Cyne died. Arson they said, whilst a thirteen-year-old could clearly tell it was murder disguised as it and just about everyone, including your father, knew it, too. And still that bloody sheriff didn’t investigate it as such. He got what was coming t him with that investigation against him, but then by then, the evidence was so non-existent nothing happened. Seteth deserves better than that - as do we all.”
“You really don’t believe she’s here do you?”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe, Dimitri. It doesn’t matter what any of us believe. What matters is us covering every possibility, every lead, in full to get the right person. It could be Death Knight. It could be another student. It could be someone else entirely but we won’t know if our eyes are too focused on one place. If I’m wrong, I’m wrong. I hope I’m wrong. But if she’s been teleported somewhere? I’m not going to risk a single chance we could take being abandoned, Dimitri.”
His eyes narrowed, brows furrowed. “I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, but if she’s here -”
“There’s us - students - and the Knights of Seiros searching here! We have no one searching outside of Garreag Mach. That’s my point.” She rubbed a hand down her face. “My cousin’s murderer is still out there because people didn’t investigate properly or set up patrols. People were wrongfully punished for a massacre because no one listened to you
and I will not leave a blind spot outside the region.” Her hand rested on the door handle of her room. “I know you want Flayn found as soon as possible - we all do. but if we rush and lose our heads, we miss evidence.”
“I cannot bear the thought of anyone losing family. I think of Alexander going missing, how you would be beside yourself, and I cannot stand it… I can’t sit and work when I could be searching. I cannot rest until I -”
“Mitri,” Easwith held his arms, “listen to me. We’ll find her. I promise. But you have to keep cool-headed. Get some rest and we’ll compare what we find at the end of the week, okay?”
“Easwith, I… I cannot sleep. I’m afraid that we won’t be able to find her soon enough. That the worst will happen and more will go missing. That you will go missing -”
“If anyone has to kidnap me, they’d have to kill me first.” Easwith touched his cheeks. “I swear on my honour and my name, that no one will take me without their blood staining the floors and I’ll keep on kicking and thrashing until they drop. I have a dagger under my pillow and your sword at my hip for just an occasion. I’ll make sure they leave a trail for you to follow and by Sothis, I’ll beat them so bad you won’t have to raise a finger for anything but picking me up.”
“Swith…” Dimitri pressed his forehead to hers, the nickname he had not uttered in years mumbled under his breath. It felt like it had been a lifetime since she last heard it from his lips. He was so gentle and caring in the way he held her shoulders. “I…” He sounded like he wanted to say something, his fingers at the ends of her hair for a moment as if thinking. He stopped the action with a sigh. “May I ask something of you?”
“You may, not that you ever need to ask me permission.”
“May I escort you to your room at night?”
Escort her? She very nearly flushed at the words and she was grateful their foreheads were still touching. Even in the light of the lantern, the redness would be seen in some way or another, she was sure. It made her heart flutter. It was a request she could not refuse.
“Of course you can. Will it help ease your mind?” He hummed gently. Easwith, with a small smile, grazed her nose against his once before parting the connection. “Then, you can escort me for as long as you desire to.”
“After supper, then?” She nodded at the quiet question, smiling at the shy curl of his lips. “Alright. I shall see you at breakfast, safe and sound.”
“You shall indeed, just as I shall see you there safe and sound. If you find sleep difficult for the rest of the week, I’m sure my aunt can give you something to help you.”
“I should be okay enough to get a few hours.”
“It’s better than none.”
“Sleep as much as you can, Easwith.” His hands were on her cheeks, warm and comforting. She held them, chilled fingers trying to get what warmth they could whilst also keeping them in place. “If you ever feel afraid… find me. And if you cannot, remember that should anyone take you or kill you trying to, I will find them. I will find you. I will tear the world asunder until I do and exalt justice.”
For the first time, she saw the darkness in his eyes without it being a flicker. Something weaved so deeply into his sincerity that it was impossible to separate. But it was not terrifying. Not to her.
“No thinking of such a fate so late at night.” She could not help but run her thumbs across the high points of his cheeks. “I know you will do whatever you feel you have to. You always have done. I’ll find you should I feel the need to, do not worry. You have my word.” She put her hands back on the handle of her door. “Goodnight, Mitri. It’s a new day tomorrow. Maybe something will turn up.”
“I hope so. But, Easwith, I…” she looked at him expectantly, but he shook his head. “Another time. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
____
14th Horsebow Moon
Steel clashed against steel. Sweat beaded on Easwith’s skin, ever cold in the cool wind that was not yet strong enough to cut through the very last warmth of the year. Fallen leaves crunched under her foot.
Her bicep stung with a combination of
effort and sweat grazing a fresh cut, the blood a thin trace on her foe’s blade.
Annette had already sped to get help with Ingrid, Mercedes staying behind with a constant itch to heal Easwith. She never let her close, however. The young boy she had pulled away in the nick of time was with Mercedes now. He was safe from the shortsword the cursed woman in front of her used with fire in her eyes.
“You disgust me.” The words fell from her lips - she remembered the woman’s face. The pastel coral hair, dark eyes with one the colour of red wine and the other a circle of amber surrounded by chartreuse and ensnared in a band of navy blue. Her smile was always unsettling. Always scheming… always unpleasant…
“Who are you to judge me?”
Easwith’s eyes narrowed and she straightened. The wind was cold, her grip on the hilt of Dimitri's sword tight. Her voice excluded confidence in herself, anger restrained. Every syllable pronounced.
“I am Easwith Strælboranthyth Holdfréond.” She straightened herself, the woman unable to fight against her strength with the way her back arched backwards and knees bent, yet still she spoke. “Daughter of Edward Holdfréond and Ædelthryth Ellen.”
“Your mother is alive, you know - going crazy -
“Descendent of Ælfred Holdfréond, Knight, Vassal and Bodyguard of King Loog!”
“Losing her mind in a cell, control no longer being hers but calling for you and your father and begging for your brother to be safe -”
“And by my flesh and blood, I will not let you go free to kill children!” Easwith kicked the woman’s legs out from beneath, ignoring the cut to the front of her thigh in the process, and kicked the clattering shortsword away just as the Knights of Seiros came running. Easwith pointed the sword at the woman’s neck to keep her in place “You’re lucky I’m not in charge.”
“Your mother wants to see you again before she fully loses her mind, trapped with needles and dark magic, screaming and crying. She’ll be turned into a monster in a few more years, you know. She will never recognise family or friends. Not you or your brother. All will be savage beasts to her… perfect to end royal lines don’t you think? Perfect for a war.”
A shrill cackle and that was all it took for her blood to further boil and her legs to start moving.
“My mother’s dead! Four years and forever counting!” Arms held her tight, around her like a vice but not enough to stop her from fighting against it. “You will rot in hell!”
“Will you die for your country? For your future King?”
“Yes, I will! I’ll take anyone out before they even breach the gates of Fhirdiad! Before they have a chance to cross the mountains I will tear apart their armies just as my ancestors did!”
“You Fearghuns are all so incredibly foolish - dying on your own swords and morals, blind to the truth -”
“You wretched -!”
“With!” Claude held her tighter and shifted his head when she broke an arm free, “She’s just trying to get under your skin!” She broke free of him fully, eyes still glowering at the woman being dragged away. “Dimitri, I don’t think now is the time for -”
“Goddess, Easwith…” in front of her, Dimitri stood with eyes scanning her as if unaware of the conversation that had turned her voice hoarse from yelling “you’re hurt.”
“It’s a couple of small scratches. I’ll be fine.”
“They aren’t minor, Swith.”
“Compared to what she was going to do to him they are!” he raised her voice, peering past Dimitri to yell an insult in the old dialect of her people “Aglæcwíf! Níðing!” She turned away from him and made a single step. Her hand reached for the wall with a verbal wince, bicep and thigh more painful now with the fading of adrenaline than they had been at first. “She wanted to kill a child, Mitri. I’m sure two scratches are nothing -”
“It isn’t nothing!” Easwith’s back quivered at the sudden rise of his voice. “You can barely walk! Your shirt sleeve is soaked with blood! You need medical attention!”
She sighed and slowly lowered herself to the floor with a grimace. “My shirtsleeve isn’t soaked, just damp. I don’t need medical attention. I’ll be just
fine.”
Mercedes knelt at her side, hands already working on doing what she could to stem the bleeding of both injuries. “His Highness is right, With. You need to get to the infirmary.”
Claude knelt in front of her, eyes on Mercedes. “Will she be okay?”
“Without any doubt, Claude. At first glance, they look worse than they are. Can you put this cloth on her thigh to clean the wound, please?”
Claude took the cloth from Mercedes. “But she can barely put weight on it..”
“Because it hurts not because it’s falling off.” Easwith leaned her head back against the wall at the sting of cloth on both her thigh and bicep. She closed her eyes, thinking of anything to get her mind off the sensation that always made her clench her jaw and squeeze her eyes so tight they would water. “My ankle hurt more than this when I bloody tripped on that damn tree root.”
She remained still with her hands at her sides, running words from a song in her head - She tensed at the next pat on her thigh with a small, mostly restrained whimper, sweat beading her neck and forehead. Muscle cramps hurt less than that sting.
Her left hand was taken gently within a pair of armoured ones and Easwith opened an eye to look at Dimitri, slightly glazed from the water in her eye. Even so, she could see his worry in place of any anger he had felt. Guilt filled every inch of her body all at once, a sinking feeling replacing her gradually fading anger.
“I’m fine, I promise. Allergies.”
Mercedes giggled. “If you say so, With.”
“Oh shush.” She squeezed Dimitri’s hand, more for his sake than her own, and gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry for getting upset and snapping at you like that. I shouldn’t have taken my anger of her actions out on you, even if it was unintentional.”
“Easwith, it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. Stop letting people walk over you by saying it is.” She looked at Dimitri fully. “Is the boy okay?”
Dimitri nodded. “Yes. Thanks to you,” his fingers brushed her fringe with a tender smile, “he is unharmed.”
She did not deserve to be looked at so tenderly by him. Not now.
“Then…” yet she, too, smiled. “These stings and scars are worth it… May I…?”
Dimitri waved the small boy over and he sat next to him. The boy was no older than ten and no younger than nine, dark hair coming down to his ears and down his neck, cut short. His fringe was tousled from the wind and his clothes were clearly loved. Linen and wool, perhaps, to keep warm as the cold came in. Plain russet but in the style of someone who once had enough money to treat themselves on clothing. Worn sleeves made it clear it had been a few years by the way thread hung.
“‘M sorry, my ladyship.” He was polite and she recognised his accent as something from the border of Ellen and Holdfréond lands. “It’s all my fault. I should have been more careful.”
“Hey, shh... It’s okay…” Easwith encouraged him into her, her voice and hold gentle as if she was trying to soothe her brother and her cousin when they were younger. How she recalled her father comforting her. “You’re safe now… she can’t hurt you anymore.”
“But because of me, you’re…”
“You sound like Dimitri here, now.” It was with jest that she spoke, looking at Dimitri for a split glance to see a bashful frown she fell in love with as soon as it showed up.”It’s part of the job. It’s worth it knowing people are safer.” She lightly rubbed the boy’s back. “Do you have any family you can live with?”
“My dad…in Cæwlinburh…” a farming village in Ellen territory, just over the river Marden to the southwest of Holdfréond lands. “There’s also my baby sister… my mother died a day after she was born…”
Easwith’s heart sank further at the stark reminder of the mortality of childbirth. “What is your name?”
“Ælfric…”
“Alright, Ælfric. I’ll ask my uncle to send a few men down to escort you home, alright? Your father must be worried.”
The boy straightened and nodded as he rubbed at his eyes. “Thank you, Lady Easwith.” He managed a small smile. “I won’t forget you or how you helped me.”
“It’s quite alright. Just doing my job.”
“You’re very
pretty…”
“Oh… I… um…” Easwith rubbed the back of her neck, unable to reply to the compliment and its suddenness.
“His Princliness thinks so, too. Don’t you?”
“Well, I…” Dimitri cleared his throat, just as embarrassed as she was, and unhelped by Mercedes' giggle.
“It’s okay, you Highness. Claude’s just teasing.” She packed and stood with a smile, straightening her skirt before holding out her hand to the boy. “Come on, Ælfric. Let’s find something at the market so His Highness can help With to the infirmary.” The boy took Mercedes’ hand gingerly and walked beside her in a different conversation.
“I’ll continue your leads, With.” Claude stood with an assuring smile.
“Thank you, Claude.” Easwith released Dimitri’s hand to put her left arm around his shoulders to take as much weight off her leg as possible by leaning on him as she stood. “Just be more careful than I, alright?”
“Yes, yes, I will. Be careful, alright? Rest. Otherwise, your lectures will mean nothing.”
“Touché.” Dimitri’s right arm secured itself around her waist and his left hooked itself behind her knees. “Dimitri? What are you -?” She was lifted as if she was lighter than air. She squeaked in response
It came as a surprise when he did, so unused to being picked up by anyone that she threw her free arm around him and squashed her head into her shoulders as best she could on instinct. Her face flushed not at her reaction, however… but to how close they were. At the familiar security of his ever-present strength. The feeling of his heart pounding in its own nervous rhythm against her, just as hers was. How she was at the right height to place her weary head against his neck and rest her eyes, pretending to be asleep to see what he would do…
She supposed he would have a moment of worry… she would tell him if she was going to rest her eyes, she decided, to limit such a reaction.
That was if she did not fall asleep first, of course.
_______
20th Horsebow Moon
Easwith put a hand in her hair and the other on her hip. A slight shiver ran down her back. When she breathed, she could start to see her breath - the faintest cloud - where she stood in the corridor next to the courtyard.
On the nineteenth day of searching, there was still no sign of Flayn. Five days of rest were finally over before she went stir crazy… and her release from her temporary cell in the infirmary (of all places) had been of little assistance.
Not a single hair. Not a single trace - A pair of black boots entered her vision and she looked up to see the familiar face of Dedue: stoic yet concerned all the same.
“Oh, Dedue…”
“Are you alright, Easwith?”
“I am alright physically, yes. Have you found anything to do with Flayn so far?”
Dedue shook his head. Ah… no luck for him, either. “His Highness is refusing rest and is pale. He will not listen to me. Easwith, His Highness might listen to you.”
“He’s been refusing it all week, it seems.” The hand within her hair moved to her other hip with a closed mouth sigh. At first, she thought it was because he was worried about her injuries. After all, if he wasn’t going stir-crazy searching, he was visiting her. She didn’t mind, though she had tried to talk him into having forty winks in the chair. It was to no avail.“Alright. I can’t promise anything, but I shall see what I can do. See you in the morning, Dedue.”
All but five minutes later, Easwith saw Dimitri walking so fast he might as well have been running. He was searching every alcove, every nook and every cranny, hair swept both by wind and his fingers.
It was worse than she thought.
She was never going to get through to him like that. He looked inconsolably worried and stressed beyond anything she had seen him before.
“Dimitri…” He did not look in her direction, even as she approached from behind. She sighed and folded her arms. “Dimitri!” His shoulders lifted, startled, and he looked at her with momentary fear before he relaxed. He was pale, as Dedue had mentioned, which only emphasised his dark circles. “It’s getting late and you didn’t eat much at dinner.”
“Did Dedue put you up to this?”
“There are only so many days I can go on believing you when you say you’re alright. You haven’t slept much all week. You’re picking at your food like you do when you’re sick or distracted. You need sleep.”
“You always do this, Easwith. I’m not a child. I don’t need you and Dedue breathing down my neck, telling me to eat or sleep.”
“You certainly don’t tell yourself that you need them! What do you expect me and Dedue to do, Mitri?” She prodded his chest, almost backing him into the wall. “Watch you collapse!? Hold your hand whilst you are unconscious in the infirmary so I know you’re still breathing!? Wait a week until you’re walking again and your body’s strong enough to live!?” His eyes widened at her as if he expected an eye roll or an apology rather than the gradual rise of her voice. “We do it because we care about you, especially when you don’t care about yourself. You’d do the same in our position. You have done it to me. Multiple occasions.”
Easwith folded her arms. Her shoulders slouched and she sighed. “Look, Dimitri… I’ve been tolerating your ‘I’ll patrol then go to bed’ story for too long at this point and I’m worried about you, no different to Dedue. I’m sick and tired of it being waved off with ‘I’m alright’ every time I bring my concerns over your well being to you. I’m not stupid. If you looked after yourself, I wouldn’t have to remind you to eat and sleep. You can care for and worry about others whilst looking after yourself, too." She sighed once more. "We're all worried about her. But we cannot be at our best when we do not eat or sleep. We'll finish this check together, then -"
"Then I shall escort you to your room, make sure you are safe -”
“I’m more concerned over you collapsing on your feet from no sleep than I am over myself at this current moment, dear. I’d have to carry you to your room somehow. You’re not heavy, but you are like a sentry tower in comparison to me, so that would be awkward to figure out.”
“You would carry me?”
“I’ve done it before. You’ve carried me before - granted, that was with my sprained ankle but you still did it.” She nodded slowly. “And, of course, that one time I had terrible aches after a race last year…”
“You collapsed, Swith. You were sick.”
“I remember your lecture well, dear. You asked if I had eaten properly before anything that requires a lot of energy. Then you would tell me to get an early night, or multiple, make sure I eat something proper afterwards, even making suggestions to the kitchen staff - which I have no qualms with, you know I’m indecisive anyway. You get a little… badger-y sometimes, but you wouldn’t be you without it. The world is so full of people who seemingly don’t care, or care for half a second, but you always do. It’s nice to know. I forget sometimes, too, so it’s nice to have someone care during moments where caring for oneself is forgotten.” Easwith shook her head. “Point is, if I have to carry you, I will. If I have to carry you to get medical attention, I will. Maybe you liked being carried, I don’t know, you were fast asleep, but it’s certainly no excuse to get hurt or sick.”
Dimitri had a wry look for a moment before he furrowed his brows again and opened his mouth as if to argue before sighing. “It is not my intention to cause anyone any concern…”
“I doubt most deliberately concern people.” She stood a step away. “I know it’s never something you want to do - it may as well be in your blood to not like worrying people so you say everything’s fine when it isn’t. Being the heir to a throne doesn’t help either, I suspect. But people inevitably will.” Easwith stood on her tiptoes and pressed her forehead to his. “I’m sorry for badgering you about sleep. I know you get a few hours of sleep and still eat. I should have more faith in that.”
Dimitri shifted to look her over with a sigh. “I’m sorry…I worried you when you should be resting…”
“My leg’s just fine, Dimitri. I’ve got my dearest friend keeping an eye on me,” she gently tapped the tip of his nose, “and my aunt’s ointments and treatments.” Then she took his hand and lightly tugged him along. “Let’s finish your patrol and then get some much-needed sleep.”
_______
24th Horsebow Moon
“Easwith!”
At the call of her name, she lowered the book she had picked up seconds ago to read. Easwith had barely been sat from her latest search when she saw Ingrid running up to her.
“Ingrid.” She stood from the seat she had taken in the courtyard, “Wha -”
“Have you seen His Highness and the Professor?”
She blinked and frowned in confusion. “Yes, just a few minutes ago… I was walking with them-”
“Take me to them.”
“I don’t know where they are. We finished in the market, came back inside, and went in separate directions. I didn’t ask “ Easwith folded her arms. “What happened?”
“I heard a scream.”
“What type of scream?”
“Female. Coming from Professor Jeritza’s quarters.” Easwith’s eyes widened at the statement. “It sounded like she was in pain…”
That could have been Flayn or another victim…
“I’ll inform the others, you find Professor Byleth and Dimitri - Dedue was with Dimitri last I saw but I’ll check around for him - and we’ll meet at Jeritza’s quarters.” Easwith slid the book into her bag, feet already carrying her quickly with Ingrid following close.
“But, Easwith, you’re still recovering -”
“I’ve had no problems for three days of heavy training. I’m ready for action. Besides, we need as many hands as possible if this is anything to do with Death Knight. We have no time to waste.”
_
Easwith barely had time to breathe when she got to the scene of the crime, a moment behind Dimitri, Dedue and Professor Byleth (whom she managed to catch up to on her way to Professor Jeritza’s quarters). Professor Manuela laid unconscious on the stone floor as if struck down as she was turning to walk away…
She knelt beside the healer, most of her weight on her right side, and scanned her with her eyes. Bruises were already forming and there was a gash to her head where she hit the floor.
“Do you see Professor Manuela’s hand? It’s like she’s pointing to something.”
At Annette’s suggestion, her eyes looked at the Professor’s hand, index finger pointing. She followed the line only to find a bookcase. Strange.
“I see it! Behind the bookcase. Could it be a secret passage?”
Standing, Easwith made her way to the piece of furniture. It was unassuming and yet… She hummed pensively, mirroring the same position Dimitri had when he was thinking (a habit she had yet to realise she had ever picked up in the first place).
“Swith?”
“For an unassuming piece of furniture, and a wall that should be averaging two metres thick if it’s built to the standard of millennia ago… I think I feel a draft. That seems to agree with Dedue’s idea.” She tried to wobble to the case. “Sturdy… perhaps hiding something…”
“What is the meaning of -!” Easwith stilled, her head turning towards the door. Professor Hanneman looked as if he had seen a ghost, complexion paler than she thought it could become and eyes wide. “What happened here?” His surprise fell and frustration took its place. “You! Don’t just stand there! Help me carry her!”
Dimitri stumbled for a brief second before speaking. “Of course. I’ll return shortly, Professor.” He knelt, already helping the Crest Specialist. “Dedue, help Easwith with the bookcase. And Easwith,” she swallowed at the house leader tone he used toward her, “do not do anything brash until I am back.”
“Of course. Now go, before we lose a healer and a teacher. I alerted my Aunt of the situation as soon as I began gathering up everyone. She should be on her way from the Infirmary - she’ll be able to help Professor Manuela.”
“Good thinking, Easwith.”
Easwith bowed her head at Byleth’s words but watched Dimitri and Professor Hanneman carry Manuela away…
A mystery that was already making her skin crawl to a near itch was waiting just beyond. She could not let that get to her, however, as she and Dedue moved the bookcase.
“Well, well, well…”
“Or wall, wall, wall…” Easwith looked at the Professor, who was as unreadable as ever. “Because it’s a - never mind. One of my Uncle’s jokes.” She folded her arms. “A gaping hole in the wall. Most would fix it - but it’s far too deliberate. Planned.”
“How can you tell?”
“The
cuts in the wall.” Easwith pointed to the edge. “It’s too straight. It must have been bricked up once with different coloured stone - I think there’s a faint trace of a darker stone. Someone put a lot of effort to hide it, and another tore it down to expose a deep secret.”
“Do you think this is related to Flayn’s disappearance?”
Easwith cast a look to Annette, aware of the uncertainty in her voice. “Only way to find out. It is the only place we haven’t looked and when a Professor attacked a colleague because of it? Manuela must have been on to something.”
“What should we do, Professor?”
“We investigate.”
Easwith nodded in agreement at her response to Dedue’s question, a hand already on the hilt of Dimitri’s sword - it still felt strange in her hand.
“It looks… uh… dark in there…”
“Aw, you’ve always been scared of dark places haven’t you, Annie? But don’t worry! The Professor and I will protect you!”
Easwith sighed and felt the wall with her left hand for something that could be used as a torch
“Can’t you just hold out your hand or something!? We don’t have time to -”
“Easwith,” Ingrid’s chastisement silenced Felix, “what are you doing?” Easwith looked at Ingrid, deadpan. “His Highness -”
“Can give me a lecture later.” Her hand found something in the dark and pulled it from the wall. It was oddly fresh - the smell of animal fat made her nose crinkle - and the wooden stave was too smooth. She held it in Annette’s direction, who set it alight. “I’m used to it. We have to hurry and standing here is another second of possible impending doom to a possible Flayn who could possibly be down there. That is if she has not yet reached her doom. Get my drift?”
Easwith held the torch in front of her with her left foot already gingerly going down the steps. She was deliberately slow, half waiting for the others, and drew the sword at her hip quietly.
“I agree. Professor, we must hurry if we are to investigate.”
“Careful of these steps. They’re old, worn and steep.”
Once at the bottom, Easwith put the torch in an empty wall bracket - with any luck, Dimitri would be on his way if her Aunt was close enough to Jeritza’s room.
It was quiet… too quiet. A silence only broken by the odd drip of water - drip….drip…drip… as ominous as a ticking clock.
It was cold but the expanse was reasonably lit enough to make out what may have been prison cells and broken walls.
A cold sweat beaded on her back …
“Bah!” Annette’s fearful response had her guard heightened, perhaps overly so. “I think I see someone.” Her arm shot out to point and Easwith approached slowly. “I think they’re -”
“It’s Flayn.” Easwith put all logic to one side, kneeling beside the short, green-haired female to feel her pulse. It took a second that felt like much longer to find it, stable but a little weaker than she would like. Her skin was freezing cold, clothes chilly against Eswith’s fingertips. She removed her jacket - as a child of Fearghus, she would brave the cold, and wrapped it around Flayn.
“How is she?”
“She’s cold, Professor, but alive.” With little effort, Easwith picked her up and carried her to a lit area with the hope it would help to warm her, still a relative distance away from the others who stayed near the entrance. “I do not know how much longer she has - how many days without food or drink is unknown.”
“There’s another victim. Just there.” Ingrid pointed and Easwith looked to find another female. “Do you know who she is?”
“No… but if she was from this year, one would think we would have known about it by now with how five minutes late caused so much fear. She’s either very recent… or only identifiable by how it feels like ice down here.”
“Easwith, that’s… quite the cheery thought.” Sylvain folded his arms. “I didn’t think you could be so macabre.”
“I come from lands where ancestors would put their deceased relatives on shelves and watch them decompose, and every so often skeletons would be swapped so every family had a chance - or sacrifice each other in bogs and marshes before the twelve bigwigs were given their relics. And there’s
always great interest when the leather-like remains are found.” She gave a lopsided smile at the surprised and slightly disgusted expression the young Gautier wore. “I wrote a poem on it once a few years ago, Best poem I wrote but it was in pencil, so it’s faded now. Want to know more?”
“No, thank you. Just remind me not to anger your family before I become one of those… bog mummies.”
“Please, do as you must to shut him up.”
“Of course, Felix. I’ll keep that in mind. Anyway, I’ll check the other victim. See how - “
“No! Stay right there, With!” Annette’s exclamation was near-high pitched and Byleth taking a stance in front of the class with the Sword of the Creator drawn caused Eawsith to spin quickly on her heel.
Her face came into direct contact with a black horse, armoured with twisted, dark metal reminiscent of Death Knight.
How did a horse get in? Not that it mattered, for she cast her eyes up to find the red circles and grim reaper mask.
Her blood was near ice.
“That sword…” It was clear to Easwith that his focus was not on her at all. “You must be -” she followed his eyes for a quick second - of course! The Professor took the sword from under his nose! - and back at him again with a solidified position. “One of us will die, the other will live.” She both side and backstepped his scythe as he swung it in emphasis. “I will enjoy this dance of damnation…”
Not if we stop you first, Death Knight.
Easwith gasped his sword arm in such a way he could not use it and tugged hard to throw the much taller person from his horse, which ran into the same shadow it had appeared from.
Now it began. If all of this was for a sword… it was a terrible mistake.
Sometimes your future wife taller bestie’s ankle starts playing up mid-walk. Of course, you’re taught to be a gentleman so you help. And never realise it’s a favourite memory of hers until your wedding speeches oops.
Just a moment pre-Duscur that I had in my head for ages and just had to get out XD I always speak of their teen years, but I’ve never drawn anything about them and I’ve only properly written one thing so I figured I should do something hehe!
Easwith’s embarrassment over being given a piggy-back by Dimitri because she said she was ‘too heavy’ and ‘It would be too awkward for you -I’m taller than you are’ as if four inches was that big of a deal when you’re also still the same weight she was three years previously was quickly diminished once her favourite shop in Eadel was discovered to be open: the bakery XD
