#s:dimitri

[delicatevalentine]

@blaiddllodi

It took him a little while to get his bearings back enough to return to the festivities, the straight-drawn line of his posture practiced over years of rigid training - he could not afford to let them see his weakness - "Hiding? A spurned lover?!" It seemed too on-the-nose to have guessed all at once, with only the single look at him, and the voice took him aback, but the quick recognition of Hilda settled his heart rate back to normalcy - not a confrontation of any sincerity, then, merely the prodding fingers of a gossip. Shaking his head, Dimitri sighed and hooked a thumb beneath the helm, lifting it enough for her to see his face. "Apologies if you were expecting something more interesting," his attempt at a joke, tempered by a wry smile. "I'm afraid I haven't enemies or lovers here...at least, not that I'm aware of." None, or too many - he couldn't decide which was worse. He dropped the helm back into place before his face could settle into a grimace at the thought. "Are you...having fun with the festivities, Hilda? This seems rather like the sort of party you would enjoy."

"Hmmm..." Hilda mused non-commitally, the hint of a smirk lifting the corner of her lip. The prince doth protest too much. But she wouldn't press the subject--- for now.

"I'm having such fun! Dressing up, gathering candy, sussing out the liars..." She gave Dimitri a meaningful look. "You wouldn't happen to be one, would you, your highness? If not, you surely wouldn't mind accompanying a lady for some trick-or-treating?"

[amitieos]

pray for victory

Anxiety claws it’s way out of Elincia’s stomach, burning her throat as she tries to push it down. Something is very wrong in Rusalka. That much is certain, no matter how much the ‘locals’ insist otherwise. Orders from the church had them separated into groups, set to throw themselves headlong into a world where dreams could become reality just as easily as nightmares. For the sake of their mission. To rescue those lost. A noble endeavour but one that would take fine-tuned teamwork and proper planning to pull off. So Elincia did the one thing she knew she could before they started.

She threw a tea party.

Inside her tent, cushions placed around a pile of books upon which a single teapot lay. A far cry from the gardens of the monastery, or Castle Melior’s tearooms. Today was less about charming guest though, so the sparse surroundings seemed to imprint a level of spartan practicality to the occasions.

“Thank you all for coming at such short notice. And my apologies if the tea is not to your liking,” Elincia begins, keenly aware of the eyes upon her. Bowing at the waist, she forces a smile to her face. One that does not reach her eyes but masks her anxiety at least. No matter how strange and uncomfortable this feels, she has dealt with far worse. Had to command the respect of people who longed to see her downfall. She could surely encourage a group of students and fellow faculty members. “I am Queen Elincia of Crimea, but I would prefer you all do away with formalities when speaking to me. We have to rely on each other no matter what foes and dangers may find us after all. It would not do to let anything get in the way of that.”

“To those I’m well acquainted with, it’s wonderful to see you all! To those I have yet to meet, the pleasure is all mine. You may wonder why I’ve called you all here when there are preparations to be made,” Elincia let’s her smile fall slightly, expression more serious. Arms relaxed at her side, she casts her gaze over her guests. All so talented, so cherished by people waiting for them at home. It’s her duty to protect them, as a leader, as a teacher and more importantly, as a friend. “I felt it important we all speak to each other beforehand. Know the names and faces of the people we work and fight alongside. It’s also an opportunity to assess what we need to bring and do to best work as a cohesive unit, should we find ourselves entangled in battle.”

@scarletrefrain / @ganglotte / @crimsonvassalage / @freedomarrow / @pirrhyc / @blaydiud / @exclted / @hresvelged / @unsungblade / @higaneion / @fangedjustice / @cleversteel

[lalamines]

target practice

Some of the upperclassmen were fooling around and seeing how high they could throw their lances and get them stuck in the wall of the training hall, but now they’re too high to get down. Your best course of action is to throw even more lances up at them in an attempt to knock them loose. Just don’t let them hit you on the way down. [Grants Lance +1]

Mercedes frowns ever so slightly. She would never normally have any complaints about cleaning up the training grounds. Looking above her, she sees lances and spears stuck at the top of the wall and wonders what possessed the upperclassmen to throw them up there in the first place. More importantly, why they left them there for someone else to get clear up.

With a brief sigh, she had to admit that the issue wasn’t so much that she was cleaning other people’s messes. That had never bothered her before - other people were often busy or forgetful. It’s the fact she has no idea how to tackle this. 

“Dimitri?” Mercedes asks in surprise as the doors to the the training hall part to reveal her house leader. She shoots him a quick, friendly smile before realising he might be the solution to her problem. “Good afternoon, what brings you here at this time?” Probably training, he can often be found here at all sorts of hours be it early morning, midday or in the dead of night. She sincerely hopes he isn’t overdoing it today. Her eyes dart to the wall of spears and she decides it’s best just to come out and ask him for aid rather than beat about the bush. He’s not the type to get angry about it, even if he doesn’t have the time to help her out.

“I’m supposed to be cleaning up in here but I have no idea how to get those lances out of the wall,” she says, glancing at the floor. It’s so much easier for her to offer help rather than ask for it and she feels a sting of guilt with her words. Dimitri worked himself to the bone after all. “Do you think you could help me reach them or bring them down? I just don’t know what to do.”

@elegiac-boar

[amitieos]

dressing up for dressage

The Havers of Rideable, Sizeable Equestrians (also known as HORSE) have posted fliers around campus advertising a competition: whoever can dress up their horse (or other mount of their choosing) in the prettiest, most dashing accessories will win a grand prize—unknown for now. You don’t actually have to own a mount to enter, as you can “borrow” one from the stables. Find some flowers and get to braiding that mane and see if you have what it takes to win! [Grants Riding +1]

The competition itself wasn’t what truly appealed to her, although if the prize was a treat for Chrysaor she could hardly turn it down. It was the opportunity, nay the excuse to pamper him and show him off to the world. He was such a good old boy, so graceful and gentle. The picture of refinement and decorum. More importantly than that, he was family to her.

“Good morning, Dimitri,” she greeted her friend as she entered the stables, apple at the ready for her favourite boy. (Chrysaor, not Dimitri. Sorry!) He held one of the flyers, distributed by a mysterious group called HORSE in his hands. “Are you thinking of entering the competition too? If you like, we could work together.” The red apple rolled in her hand, held gently underneath Chrysaor’s chin who took tiny, cautious bites and savoured every morsel. 

“Oh, I understand if you’d rather get really serious,” Elincia added sheepishly, lips quirked upwards. A few of her titters and giggles escaped as Chrysaor lapped the last remnants of his treat up with his tongue. As soon as he was done she reached up and stroked his strawberry blond mane. Yep, he was definitely her favourite. “I’m just excited to pamper him. Oh, I brought some scarves and silks I embroidered! You can take one either way, consider it a gift!”

@elegiac-boar

[amitieos]

adagio

She remains grounded as Chrysaor trots along the path. Restraint and reservation collide within her chest, bubbling up into her throat. Elincia needs to speak, feels as though the madness may consume her if she does not.

Her thoughts however as selfish and spiteful. Venom in her veins. Branches snap underfoot, each feeling like an arrow to her listless, meandering heart.

With a gentle nudge, Chrysaor hurries along a little faster to catch up with their friends and allies. A sprightly canter and the wind at her back calls to her. The siren song of freedom. He slows to a gentle trot besides Dimitri and Duke Donut, as if he knew that what she needed was the kindness of a friend. She thanks him with a gentle scratch behind the ears.

“Good evening, Dimitri.” She greets her friend with a practiced smile. Her heart isn’t in it, hasn’t been all day. Her mind instead has been preoccupied with the young Lady Ziegler. What Sasha must be going through and how they may well be about to turn her life upside down. “How are you and Duke holding up?”

But really, if their suspicions are correct then her fate was sealed weeks, maybe months ago. Elincia tries to convince herself that they’re saving her from much worse. Tries and fails. The knowledge of what they’re about to do, the things they are to accuse Lord Ziegler of, hold her in a chokehold. She gasps for air.

Life never has been fair.

“I... I probably shouldn’t say this,” the confession spills from sinful lips. What she wants in this moment will only hurt someone else. Will only cause more suffering, elsewhere. It’s hard not to pray for the impossible though, or at least hope they’re wrong. Weeks spent in Sasha’s company - all Elincia wishes is to protect her from the awful truth they’re about to unveil. “I... part of me hopes we’re wrong about the Ziegler’s”

She doubts she could say such a thing to another of their group. To drop her inhibitions like this. Dimitri is her friend, of course, but so are many of the others. No, it’s something else that pushes her to confide in him. To spill out her twisted guts. She hopes he can understand, in a way the others may not. Theirs is a pain shared and one that awaits Sasha. Loss, so sudden and all consuming. Grief in all it’s hideous vainglory. 

Tears refuse to fall. Elincia’s gaze remains straight ahead, defiant and unwavering. She knows if she dare pass a glance to one of her friends that she may crumble into pieces.

“It’s selfish, I know,” Elincia whispers bitterly. If they are wrong, someone else would have to hurt. If they are wrong, the whole city could be in danger most grave. This Elincia knows and understands all too well. It shackles her to the ugly truth of reality. “I don’t want her to suffer such a loss though. I don’t want her heart to shatter...” Like her own did that fateful night. Like his had once, too.

@elegiac-boar

[amitieos]

a snowy hike

continued from here @elegiac-boar

What a relief! She had her coat and scarf to keep warm and they had food and water. Not that they were likely to wander too far from the path - a pleasant walk on the already beaten path, they should make it back in time for dinner at the lodge.

Elincia had to fight back a frown when he told her they weren’t likely to run into many animals. She’d rather not come face to face with a hungry bear but she had been hoping to enjoy seeing some of the local wildlife. If not deer and storks then perhaps starlings and rabbits. Oh well, the alpine forest was still just as beautiful regardless, even if she had gotten her hopes up.

They set off together upon the trail and a mixture of bracken and snow crunched and crackled underfoot. Swift winds battered at their cheeks turning them a rosy hue.

“Yes, I do so love flying. It’s always such a thrill. Chrysaor was my great-grandmothers and I attribute most of our success to him.” She began in reply, particularly animated. Dimitri had landed upon one of her favourite conversation topics. “The views are always glorious... except perhaps on the battlefield. The bond between rider and steed though is the truest joy. I have a little experience on horseback too, thanks to my dear friend Geoffrey. I think the two of you would get along quite well.”

“You enjoy riding too, don’t you? I’ve see you in the stables.” A wide and true smile spread across her face. “So I know you’re a good person, otherwise the horses wouldn’t like you half as much. If you ever want to try flying though, let me know. Cryssie and I would be happy to oblige.”

They continued trudging through the snow until Elincia stumbled. Falling flat on her face she groaned in embarrassment. 

“Forgive me, I’m not as graceful on my own feet it would seem.”

[amitieos]

😃 He looked a bit funny. The dance and the 1 (one) glass of champagne he downed a bit faster than expected did get the prince to loosen up. He wasn't drunk by any means, but he was no longer the stiff prince he was at the start of the ball.

That being said he did look like a ruffled cat.

"Elincia- watch this." Before his stunt he made sure to look around and make sure nobody was watching. He decided to go loose and have fun but he wasn't willing to make himself a fool in front of everyone.

After making sure his image was not to be degraded, he went back to position. "Look. Hup!" A backflip- straight into one of the bushes under the open window.

"That was most certainly not planned, but I did land on my feet." Very leafy.

“Bravo, bravo!” Elincia applauded her house leader for his valiant stunt.

“Um, you’re not hurt are you?” She asks him tentatively. He did land on his feet but as impressive as the backflip was he had landed in a bush.

She smiles, to herself more than anything. The young prince was always kind but often seemed afflicted by a dour demeanour. She can understand why - heavy is the head that wears the crown, after all. Seeing him ruffled up, face bright with mirth and a sheepish grin, well...

It was heart-warming, honestly. He looks happier than she thinks she’s ever seen him.

“That was delightful, Dimitri! If a touch dangerous.” Her tone is gentle as she chastises him. “I’m glad you’re having fun but don’t get too carried away, okay?” 

Elincia didn’t really mind the prospect of patching up a few light scrapes and bruises - she was studying faith magic quite dilligently. A night in the infirmary wing though? Best to avoid any serious injuries.

[gauldheri]

[Champagne ] - Imported from the western shores of the Adrestrian Empire, the school purchases 70 bottles of this stuff well in advanced for this day alone. The bartenders are under strict orders not to offer any student more than one glass.

"Sylvain!" Dimitri hissed, appearing at his friend's side and placing his palm over the top of Sylvain's glass.

He wasn't here to nag - he wasn't here to nag, he had to remind himself, it was a party and he was ostensibly here to socialize - but he was certain that he had seen Sylvain with significantly less champagne in his glass just a few moments ago.

The heat of his glare was tempered a bit by the furtive looks he sent over his shoulder - it was difficult to truly be angry with one so close, wasn't it? No grudge great enough to bear for long.

But he could still hope to be exasperated, couldn't he?

A sigh. "You know that students are only allowed one. It shouldn't be too much to ask for you to behave with some decorum just the once, should it? You can't tell me that you need champagne to woo a prospective date," he added, nudging the other with his elbow. It was a poor attempt at a tease from someone not well accustomed to teasing.

There are many people in the world ready to nag at him, to criticise and try to keep him in mind. Few of them are actually able to make him feel even a hint of remorse, of course. Dimitri however has always been an exception to the rule. Sylvain's shoulders sag, in at least partial defeat but his smile refuses to falter.

"Well then, Your Highness, it's a good thing this glass," Sylvain raises his left hand higher, "isn't for me. It's for you. Assuming you want it of course."

Now if Dimitri doesn't want it, there's no reason to not polish it off himself. Genuinely however, he's more concerned about the Prince being able to relax and have a good time tonight. Especially after that run in with the man who claims to be Lambert. He'd like to steer Dimitri as far away from him as possible than allow him to be hurt by someone playing such a twisted game; though it's hardly his place as the margrave's son to tell his Prince where he can and can't mingle tonight. But guiding a friend around the stalls and dancefloor? Surely that was acceptable.

Sylvain's smile falls for just a moment as he regards Dimitri closely. It's back again in a moment, broad and jovial. Dimitri has been through more than his fair share - the least Sylvain can do is try to provide good cheer and a distraction from the cruelty of the world.

"Here, let's swap our feathers. Consider it an oath... and a compromise. A fair one, I promise! The truth is I'll never be like you and Ingrid," Sylvain has spent far too long fighting against the invisible chains of his own family to ever fall completely in line. His freedom is too precious, every tiny act of rebellion an assertion of his own identity. The last thing he wants is to cause Dimitri any real grief though. Perhaps, though it's the perfect night to meet and mingle, he can keep his tongue mostly in check and ensure no errant complaints reach the Prince's ears. "I promise to be on my best behaviour. Which isn't perfect but I'll be good - no ladies complaining, no teachers or anything. I might have an extra glass of champagne or something but nothing that would dishonour Faerghus or reach your ears."

"On your end of the deal, you focus on having fun instead of worrying about me! The night is still young, Your Highness. Why don't we head over there-- no, not to flirt. Just to say hello and be friendly; what's the point of a ball if not to let your hair down and socialise?"

Sylvain spares a glance over his shoulder, checking a certain someone isn't following them across the ballroom. Dimitri has grown far too much from the sweet, generous young boy he once knew. He might not have changed much at the core but Sylvain realises he isn't capable of protecting him anymore, one of them on the precipice of adulthood and the other having just crossed.

It won't stop him trying, Dimitri's smile is just as precious as it ever was, even if it's far rarer than it used to be.