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theprototypes2019-12-20 07:45 am
incontrast) wrote in theprototypes2019-12-20 07:45 am
Now
Title: Now
Series: Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Rating: T
Pairings: Dimitri/Byleth
Genre: Romance, fluff
Word count: 2290
Spoilers: Yes
Summary: As busy as they’ve become, the king and queen-to-be still make time for one another. Put simply, parties were obviously made for slipping away.
Done for the prompt “Celebration” for Dimitri Week 2019.
By the time dinner is over and all the guests have made their rounds to give Dimitri their well wishes, it’s easy to slip to the edge of the festivities and fade into the background. He’s lingering along the dining hall’s wall, only half-aware of the crowd as he looks out over it, when a slender hand slides into his with an indicative tug.
He doesn’t have to look to know to follow. A moment later he’s out of the bustling room and into a quiet side hall, the buzz of voices immediately muffled as the heavy door closes behind him.
He turns to Byleth and meets her affectionate smile with one just like it. “I thought you might have already slipped out for a break,” he greets.
“I figured we could both use one.” She takes a step back, still holding his hand. “Walk with me?”
Except for the stationed guards and the occasional passing servant, the pair find themselves alone as they walk arm-in-arm. Little is said, but it’s a familiar and comfortable silence that neither rushes to interrupt.
“Quite the party,” she comments with a playful glance. Dimitri chuckles.
“Even this is political in nature. Many of the more esteemed guests appreciate the excuse to be here, if only because they can use the opportunity to push their agendas.” His tone is lighthearted, bearing no ill will. It’s how the nobility has always functioned, as far as he knows, and it’s just as much of an opportunity for him, as well. “It makes me nostalgic for our academy days,” he admits. “I appreciated how… small, and personal, birthday celebrations were in comparison.”
Byleth leans into his side a little, sending a pleasant warmth rippling through him. He adores and appreciates all of her touches. “I don’t think anyone will mind if we do something small and personal for a bit.” She flashes him another smile and pulls ahead again to lead him.
He isn’t surprised that she doesn’t take him outside－winter has come in full in the kingdom, heralding his twenty-fourth birthday with a fresh snowfall for nearly a day straight. Byleth hasn’t complained, but it’s been obvious that she’s still adjusting to the extreme climate.
Instead she turns them into her study, the private office Dimitri gave her shortly after she was appointed Archbishop. While her desk is piled high with books, scrolls, and papers, the far side of the room is made to be cozier: a small couch and table sit before one of the tall windows, where the two of them have often had tea while discussing work or breaking from it.
She doesn’t light any lanterns, but there’s no need for it. The waxing moon is large and gives plenty of light to see by as the two of them settle into their usual places. There’s a chill in the air here, away from the warm lights and crackling hearths, and Dimitri holds his cloak open to let her nestle up against his side before wrapping it around them both.
Byleth rests her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest, where the glint of her ring catches his eye. Dimitri kisses her hair and murmurs doubtfully, “You’re truly alright with this? It doesn’t exactly feel right, delaying the wedding but going and holding a birthday party…”
She tilts her head back to meet his gaze. “I’m sure,” she promises. “We’ve talked about this. The festivities are good for relations, and the people’s morale－especially since you took the time to visit the town and include everyone. I think it says a lot about how you see them, and that’s important.”
Especially when there’s still so much work to be done, her tone seems to say. Dimitri can’t argue with that; they’ve made a lot of progress in fixing up and unifying the scattered pieces of the country, but there are still many more issues to be addressed, and much more patience to demand of their subjects in the meantime. A break from the day-to-day toils of reconstruction was received gladly all around, not least of all since it serves as an extension of the upcoming New Year holiday, but after that the kingdom will be hard at work again.
“Yes, but…” Dimitri frowns. “Even so－we can always move the wedding up if you would prefer to－”
He’s silenced by her warm mouth on his. Their kiss is long and slow, and at the end of it Byleth pulls back just enough to speak clearly. “It’s alright, Dimitri.” She reaches up to touch his cheek and he can see the smile in her eyes. “I still have you now. I don’t think a ceremony and a crown will change us that much.”
He places his hand over hers, threading their fingers. “No, they won’t,” he assures her fondly. He kisses her forehead, the side of her nose, and then turns his head to brush his mouth over the heel of her hand. “It certainly won’t change this. These moments of ours will stay the same.”
“Mostly,” Byleth supplements. Her eyes avoid his when he looks at her, as though she didn’t expect him to hear.
Slowly, Dimitri kisses her wrist. Byleth’s canine catches her lip, but she doesn’t say anything else. “Mostly,” he agrees against her skin. He kisses a little lower, making his way along the inside of her arm. Perhaps it’s the wine, or the lovely sensation of her skin against his lips, or the months of waiting both behind and before them, but he’s feeling a little bolder than usual. “What do you think might change after we’re wed, my beloved?”
His attempt at teasing backfires somewhat when she answers bluntly, “I think we’ll both stop acting like this is all we want to do.”
He coughs and lifts his head, hoping it’s too dark for her to notice the hint of heat in his face. “Oh. Well…”
She gives his hand a light squeeze as she chuckles, which instantly makes his mild embarrassment worth it. “Sorry. We sort of decided that there’s not much else to be said about that, didn’t we?”
“In a sense,” he says slowly, uncertainly. “But we need not avoid the subject, if there is something you wish to discuss.”
Byleth shakes her head. “No. I agree that this is best. As hard as it is just finding time with each other some days, it wouldn’t be fair if…” She doesn’t finish the thought, likely aware that she doesn’t need to.
In truth, there’s nothing stopping them from being more intimate than this. Only tradition, as well as Dimitri’s desire to see a more stable world before they consider bringing children into it. But tradition is really more encouraged than enforced, and Fhirdiad is one of the safest places in the country; he would be willing to reconsider those concerns if asked, but Byleth has been of a similar mind. It’s one of a few reasons why they didn’t rush the wedding.
What they have now isn’t lacking, anyway. Whether it’s dining together or working side-by-side in silence on their separate mountains of paperwork or sitting in simple comfort like this, Dimitri loves every moment with her. He’s well aware of how fortunate he is to be by her side at all; with that blessing in mind, he hasn’t been left wanting.
He leans into her hair again, but it’s more of a gentle nuzzle than a kiss. “Our roles are busy ones, but it won’t always be this chaotic. We’ve cleared some large hurdles in recent months; a few more, and I believe the country will allow us some breathing room at last.” Cupping her face in one hand, he strokes her cheek and feels her smile when he adds, “Bear with this selfish king a while longer, Your Grace. We’ll have time for ourselves yet.”
Byleth tilts her head up and brushes her nose against his, her breath warming his lips for a few heartbeats.
“We have now,” she says softly.
They melt into each other with their next kiss. She presses closer against him and he tightens his cloak around her to keep her there, already lost in her gentle tugs and playful bites.
It isn’t long before she’s kissing him more deeply, her small but strong hands belying her want as they clutch his collar and pull him closer. Dimitri answers with the same fervor and earns an appreciative hum that makes his heart skip. Considering how stoic Byleth tends to be, he loves getting these reactions out of her－a side of her that only he knows, that says he fills her with the same desire that she does him.
Her skin is hot through her gown by the time he pushes his tongue past her lips. Her arms find his neck and she arches against him with a hushed moan, her breasts soft against his chest, and Dimitri has to remind himself not to tear her dress as his hands run more firmly along her back.
Byleth plays her fingertips along his temples and ears, tracing the angles and drawing circles before moving on to tug gently at his short ponytail. She works it free and his hair tumbles down around their faces. It’s such a small and simple gesture, and yet it sends a pang of deeper desire through him for more.
He breaks away from her－she exhales sharply, momentarily disappointed－to nose his way past her high collar and fix his mouth on the side of her neck. She gasps a soft Oh as he sucks on her skin, rougher than he was on her lips, but the way her fingers lock tight in his hair is anything but an objection.
She might recline and pull him with her, or maybe he leans into her more heavily and pushes her backwards, but suddenly she’s pinned against the couch’s arm beneath his weight. Her touches are faster and more eager, running over anything of his that she can reach. She murmurs his name and that hits him harder than anything－the approval in it, the plain want, how breathless she sounds because of him and his affections.
His hand glides down her hip to the slit in the side of her dress and goosebumps break out over her perfect skin as he grasps her thigh. He hears her exhale sharply as he massages down to her knee and back, her grip on his hair alternating to mimic how roughly or gently he kneads.
Dimitri starts to wonder how the rest of her might feel beneath his hands, what it will be like when he can finally learn every inch of her at his leisure and discover what she wants the most, so that he can give anything and everything to her as much as she wants and hear these lovely sounds and feel her tremble underneath him－but he’s already unbearably hot beneath the layers of cloak and clothes and Byleth’s limbs. One wrong thought or touch will push him further than he needs to go at present－he’s already nearly there－and although it takes a tremendous effort, he pushes those imaginings aside and resists the urge to explore further beneath her skirt.
He pushes himself up onto his hands and knees, where he immediately feels cold without her heat against him in full. He trails firm kisses from her neck up to her ear and breathes into it.
“I want you,” he growls deeply, “more than anything.”
More than I thought I could ever want something for myself.
Byleth turns to look at him, her panting breath hot against his cheek and her face beautifully flushed. Dimitri imagines that depth of desire in her eyes is reflected in his own, that they ache for each other just the same.
He answers her glance with a kiss to her mouth that, despite all his passion just now, is suddenly simple and chaste. “But I love you more,” he says softly.
When she stares at him, he only smiles and kisses the tip of her nose with the same gentleness. “We may have overstayed our escape. Shall we return?”
His voice is still a little breathless and unsteady, but it’s earnest. He intends to stand by his word and respect her intentions; playing too close to the lines they’ve chosen to draw isn’t fair to either of them.
It’s also a little more playful teasing, not that he’ll admit it.
Dimitri starts to push himself off of her and onto his feet, but Byleth catches a solid hold of his sides. For an instant he thinks his actions backfired－until he sees her easy smile.
“I think we can steal a few more minutes.” Her arms move around his waist to lock her hands behind his hips, loose but insistent with the look she’s giving him. He quickly relaxes under the touch.
“I suppose we have a while longer before a search party is sent,” he agrees, making her chuckle. He settles against her again, this time to do only that: he returns her embrace and rests his head on her shoulder, and she sets her chin in his hair as she rubs his back with a more casual touch than before. The hungry heat is gone from their movements, but there’s still an intimate warmth between them that keeps the chill of the room at bay.
Eventually they’ll rise and straighten their wrinkled clothes, Byleth will fix his hair for him, and they’ll return arm-in-arm to the crowd for another few hours.
Until then, they stay just as they are, utterly content with the simplicity of one another’s company.
“Happy Birthday, Dimitri.”
Series: Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Rating: T
Pairings: Dimitri/Byleth
Genre: Romance, fluff
Word count: 2290
Spoilers: Yes
Summary: As busy as they’ve become, the king and queen-to-be still make time for one another. Put simply, parties were obviously made for slipping away.
Done for the prompt “Celebration” for Dimitri Week 2019.
By the time dinner is over and all the guests have made their rounds to give Dimitri their well wishes, it’s easy to slip to the edge of the festivities and fade into the background. He’s lingering along the dining hall’s wall, only half-aware of the crowd as he looks out over it, when a slender hand slides into his with an indicative tug.
He doesn’t have to look to know to follow. A moment later he’s out of the bustling room and into a quiet side hall, the buzz of voices immediately muffled as the heavy door closes behind him.
He turns to Byleth and meets her affectionate smile with one just like it. “I thought you might have already slipped out for a break,” he greets.
“I figured we could both use one.” She takes a step back, still holding his hand. “Walk with me?”
Except for the stationed guards and the occasional passing servant, the pair find themselves alone as they walk arm-in-arm. Little is said, but it’s a familiar and comfortable silence that neither rushes to interrupt.
“Quite the party,” she comments with a playful glance. Dimitri chuckles.
“Even this is political in nature. Many of the more esteemed guests appreciate the excuse to be here, if only because they can use the opportunity to push their agendas.” His tone is lighthearted, bearing no ill will. It’s how the nobility has always functioned, as far as he knows, and it’s just as much of an opportunity for him, as well. “It makes me nostalgic for our academy days,” he admits. “I appreciated how… small, and personal, birthday celebrations were in comparison.”
Byleth leans into his side a little, sending a pleasant warmth rippling through him. He adores and appreciates all of her touches. “I don’t think anyone will mind if we do something small and personal for a bit.” She flashes him another smile and pulls ahead again to lead him.
He isn’t surprised that she doesn’t take him outside－winter has come in full in the kingdom, heralding his twenty-fourth birthday with a fresh snowfall for nearly a day straight. Byleth hasn’t complained, but it’s been obvious that she’s still adjusting to the extreme climate.
Instead she turns them into her study, the private office Dimitri gave her shortly after she was appointed Archbishop. While her desk is piled high with books, scrolls, and papers, the far side of the room is made to be cozier: a small couch and table sit before one of the tall windows, where the two of them have often had tea while discussing work or breaking from it.
She doesn’t light any lanterns, but there’s no need for it. The waxing moon is large and gives plenty of light to see by as the two of them settle into their usual places. There’s a chill in the air here, away from the warm lights and crackling hearths, and Dimitri holds his cloak open to let her nestle up against his side before wrapping it around them both.
Byleth rests her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest, where the glint of her ring catches his eye. Dimitri kisses her hair and murmurs doubtfully, “You’re truly alright with this? It doesn’t exactly feel right, delaying the wedding but going and holding a birthday party…”
She tilts her head back to meet his gaze. “I’m sure,” she promises. “We’ve talked about this. The festivities are good for relations, and the people’s morale－especially since you took the time to visit the town and include everyone. I think it says a lot about how you see them, and that’s important.”
Especially when there’s still so much work to be done, her tone seems to say. Dimitri can’t argue with that; they’ve made a lot of progress in fixing up and unifying the scattered pieces of the country, but there are still many more issues to be addressed, and much more patience to demand of their subjects in the meantime. A break from the day-to-day toils of reconstruction was received gladly all around, not least of all since it serves as an extension of the upcoming New Year holiday, but after that the kingdom will be hard at work again.
“Yes, but…” Dimitri frowns. “Even so－we can always move the wedding up if you would prefer to－”
He’s silenced by her warm mouth on his. Their kiss is long and slow, and at the end of it Byleth pulls back just enough to speak clearly. “It’s alright, Dimitri.” She reaches up to touch his cheek and he can see the smile in her eyes. “I still have you now. I don’t think a ceremony and a crown will change us that much.”
He places his hand over hers, threading their fingers. “No, they won’t,” he assures her fondly. He kisses her forehead, the side of her nose, and then turns his head to brush his mouth over the heel of her hand. “It certainly won’t change this. These moments of ours will stay the same.”
“Mostly,” Byleth supplements. Her eyes avoid his when he looks at her, as though she didn’t expect him to hear.
Slowly, Dimitri kisses her wrist. Byleth’s canine catches her lip, but she doesn’t say anything else. “Mostly,” he agrees against her skin. He kisses a little lower, making his way along the inside of her arm. Perhaps it’s the wine, or the lovely sensation of her skin against his lips, or the months of waiting both behind and before them, but he’s feeling a little bolder than usual. “What do you think might change after we’re wed, my beloved?”
His attempt at teasing backfires somewhat when she answers bluntly, “I think we’ll both stop acting like this is all we want to do.”
He coughs and lifts his head, hoping it’s too dark for her to notice the hint of heat in his face. “Oh. Well…”
She gives his hand a light squeeze as she chuckles, which instantly makes his mild embarrassment worth it. “Sorry. We sort of decided that there’s not much else to be said about that, didn’t we?”
“In a sense,” he says slowly, uncertainly. “But we need not avoid the subject, if there is something you wish to discuss.”
Byleth shakes her head. “No. I agree that this is best. As hard as it is just finding time with each other some days, it wouldn’t be fair if…” She doesn’t finish the thought, likely aware that she doesn’t need to.
In truth, there’s nothing stopping them from being more intimate than this. Only tradition, as well as Dimitri’s desire to see a more stable world before they consider bringing children into it. But tradition is really more encouraged than enforced, and Fhirdiad is one of the safest places in the country; he would be willing to reconsider those concerns if asked, but Byleth has been of a similar mind. It’s one of a few reasons why they didn’t rush the wedding.
What they have now isn’t lacking, anyway. Whether it’s dining together or working side-by-side in silence on their separate mountains of paperwork or sitting in simple comfort like this, Dimitri loves every moment with her. He’s well aware of how fortunate he is to be by her side at all; with that blessing in mind, he hasn’t been left wanting.
He leans into her hair again, but it’s more of a gentle nuzzle than a kiss. “Our roles are busy ones, but it won’t always be this chaotic. We’ve cleared some large hurdles in recent months; a few more, and I believe the country will allow us some breathing room at last.” Cupping her face in one hand, he strokes her cheek and feels her smile when he adds, “Bear with this selfish king a while longer, Your Grace. We’ll have time for ourselves yet.”
Byleth tilts her head up and brushes her nose against his, her breath warming his lips for a few heartbeats.
“We have now,” she says softly.
They melt into each other with their next kiss. She presses closer against him and he tightens his cloak around her to keep her there, already lost in her gentle tugs and playful bites.
It isn’t long before she’s kissing him more deeply, her small but strong hands belying her want as they clutch his collar and pull him closer. Dimitri answers with the same fervor and earns an appreciative hum that makes his heart skip. Considering how stoic Byleth tends to be, he loves getting these reactions out of her－a side of her that only he knows, that says he fills her with the same desire that she does him.
Her skin is hot through her gown by the time he pushes his tongue past her lips. Her arms find his neck and she arches against him with a hushed moan, her breasts soft against his chest, and Dimitri has to remind himself not to tear her dress as his hands run more firmly along her back.
Byleth plays her fingertips along his temples and ears, tracing the angles and drawing circles before moving on to tug gently at his short ponytail. She works it free and his hair tumbles down around their faces. It’s such a small and simple gesture, and yet it sends a pang of deeper desire through him for more.
He breaks away from her－she exhales sharply, momentarily disappointed－to nose his way past her high collar and fix his mouth on the side of her neck. She gasps a soft Oh as he sucks on her skin, rougher than he was on her lips, but the way her fingers lock tight in his hair is anything but an objection.
She might recline and pull him with her, or maybe he leans into her more heavily and pushes her backwards, but suddenly she’s pinned against the couch’s arm beneath his weight. Her touches are faster and more eager, running over anything of his that she can reach. She murmurs his name and that hits him harder than anything－the approval in it, the plain want, how breathless she sounds because of him and his affections.
His hand glides down her hip to the slit in the side of her dress and goosebumps break out over her perfect skin as he grasps her thigh. He hears her exhale sharply as he massages down to her knee and back, her grip on his hair alternating to mimic how roughly or gently he kneads.
Dimitri starts to wonder how the rest of her might feel beneath his hands, what it will be like when he can finally learn every inch of her at his leisure and discover what she wants the most, so that he can give anything and everything to her as much as she wants and hear these lovely sounds and feel her tremble underneath him－but he’s already unbearably hot beneath the layers of cloak and clothes and Byleth’s limbs. One wrong thought or touch will push him further than he needs to go at present－he’s already nearly there－and although it takes a tremendous effort, he pushes those imaginings aside and resists the urge to explore further beneath her skirt.
He pushes himself up onto his hands and knees, where he immediately feels cold without her heat against him in full. He trails firm kisses from her neck up to her ear and breathes into it.
“I want you,” he growls deeply, “more than anything.”
More than I thought I could ever want something for myself.
Byleth turns to look at him, her panting breath hot against his cheek and her face beautifully flushed. Dimitri imagines that depth of desire in her eyes is reflected in his own, that they ache for each other just the same.
He answers her glance with a kiss to her mouth that, despite all his passion just now, is suddenly simple and chaste. “But I love you more,” he says softly.
When she stares at him, he only smiles and kisses the tip of her nose with the same gentleness. “We may have overstayed our escape. Shall we return?”
His voice is still a little breathless and unsteady, but it’s earnest. He intends to stand by his word and respect her intentions; playing too close to the lines they’ve chosen to draw isn’t fair to either of them.
It’s also a little more playful teasing, not that he’ll admit it.
Dimitri starts to push himself off of her and onto his feet, but Byleth catches a solid hold of his sides. For an instant he thinks his actions backfired－until he sees her easy smile.
“I think we can steal a few more minutes.” Her arms move around his waist to lock her hands behind his hips, loose but insistent with the look she’s giving him. He quickly relaxes under the touch.
“I suppose we have a while longer before a search party is sent,” he agrees, making her chuckle. He settles against her again, this time to do only that: he returns her embrace and rests his head on her shoulder, and she sets her chin in his hair as she rubs his back with a more casual touch than before. The hungry heat is gone from their movements, but there’s still an intimate warmth between them that keeps the chill of the room at bay.
Eventually they’ll rise and straighten their wrinkled clothes, Byleth will fix his hair for him, and they’ll return arm-in-arm to the crowd for another few hours.
Until then, they stay just as they are, utterly content with the simplicity of one another’s company.
“Happy Birthday, Dimitri.”