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Felix was avoiding Dimitri. Again. Sylvain probably shouldn’t be surprised. His lover was very hot and cold when it came to their king. One minute, one day, one moment in a time, Felix was friendly, baiting Dimitri into a spar, much like old times. In the next, Felix was spitting harsh words with even harsher intentions. Dimitri, for what it was worth, seemed to take his switching moods in stride, being there when Felix wanted it and leaving as soon as he didn’t. It seemed to Sylvain like Dimitri was still trying to earn Felix’s forgiveness. Sylvain suspected it was for the death of Glenn as well as the death of Rodrigue, but he couldn’t know for sure without talking to the returned king.
Dimitri had been making his rounds, talking to all of his classmates, including those who had been recruited into the Blue Lions, except Sylvain. He was trying not to read too much into that, but in the parts of himself that he didn’t want to admit existed, he was hurt and jealous and angry. He knew that Felix and Dimitri were closer friends than he was with Dimitri. He knew that Ingrid and Dimitri had bonded over the expectations placed on them, as well as the loss of Glenn, more recently. Sylvain knew that he was just sort of tangentially there. He was their friend, because their fathers were friends more so because of any genuine connection. Even now, Felix chased after Dimitri when the mood struck him. He would spend time with Sylvain too, and Sylvain would take any scrap of attention he could get from Felix, even if the man’s focus was on the King.
Sylvain sat on his bed, his back leaning against the headrest, and his feet crossed at the ankle straight out in front of him. He idly flipped the page of a book, not really in the mood to read. If it was any other time, he would have been out at the taverns, flirting with any girl, or maybe a guy or two, who looked his way. But the war had changed things. That and starting a relationship with Felix. He had sworn to himself that he would never hurt Felix in the same way he had hurt many before him. He would not betray Felix’s trust like that.
Even though, he also knew that Felix was in love with Dimitri.
Fine line between love and hate, and all that nonsense.
A tentative knock at the door interrupted his random flipping of pages. His hand froze, mid turning, and his eyes snapped up to look at the door. Ingrid had a specific knock she used, a holdover from their childhood games. Felix didn’t knock. Dedue or Ashe could be gentle with their knocks, but both had lost the hesitancy when approaching him as a friend. Mercedes and Annette were busy in the infirmary. Byleth also tended to not knock.
“Come in,” he called.
The door opened silently. Sylvain was grateful for the time Ashe and Dedue took in repairing it, so it didn’t squeak anymore. A large figure lingered in it, and Sylvain’s breath caught as he saw Dimitri. The man’s cloak still hung on his shoulders but it must have been laundered as some point, because it looked almost new, almost regal. He sat up more, getting ready to stand, but Dimitri held his hand up. Sylvain froze, ready to push himself up, but also following his king’s silent command.
“Sylvain,” Dimitri said, finally stepping into the room as the door fell closed behind him.
“Yes, your majesty?”
Dimitri winced, a grimace momentarily there and then gone. “Please, Dimitri is fine.”
“What can I do for you?” Sylvain asked, trying for a teasing, almost flirty, tone. However, even to himself, he sounded more confused than anything. He hadn’t expected Dimitri to visit him. “Felix is probably at the training grounds. Although, Ashe may have dragged him out for supplies. He keeps threatening to do it.”
Dimitri smiled, a small, polite one, but Sylvain would take what he could get from one of his oldest friends. “I am here to see you.”
Sylvain blinked. “Me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
It was Dimitri’s turn to blink, confusion growing in his eyes. “You are my friend, and I need to apologize.”
“Apologize? For what?”
“For when I was… not myself.”
Sylvain felt a harsh laugh bubble in his chest, but he shoved it down. His face had fallen, and he could see Dimitri’s growing confusion mix with concern. “There’s nothing to apologize for, your majesty.”
Dimitri sighed. “Sylvain. I mistreated you.”
Sylvain chuckled, not being able to help himself. “Nothing to be done now, is there? It’s happened and now it’s done.” Dimitri stood there, and Sylvain tilted his head back so he could look at the ceiling. “Besides, it’s not anything I’m not used to.”
“I was cruel.”
“Miklan was cruel. You were broken.”
“Do not diminish how I treated you.”
“What did you expect? I diminish everything. You, Miklan, my father. It’s what I do.” Sylvain felt the king’s eyes boring into him, and he should probably shut up, but Sylvain rarely did what he was supposed to. In fact, he often strove to do the opposite. “I mean it’s not like we’re that close.” Dimitri jolted, his singular eyes widening. Sylvain looked at him deadpan. “Oh, come on, Dima, we all know that we’re only friends because our fathers were friends.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No.” Sylvain scoffed. “You’re dating Felix. Surely you know how much he loves you. Or do you doubt his love too?”
Sylvain crossed his arms, eyebrows pinched together and gaze hard. “Don’t bring Felix into this. Felix is different.”
“How so? Do you think I wouldn’t have asked my father to find a way around hanging out with you if I truly disliked your presence?” Dimitri asked, eye narrowed and with a faint shimmer in it. Sylvain didn’t even get to answer. “I came to apologize for my mistreatment of you, for pushing you too harshly, for being cruel to you while I was lost in my madness, but it seems I have more to apologize for.”
Sylvain slumped forward. “Ignore me, your majesty. I’m in a mood.”
“No,” Dimitri said, stepping towards Sylvain. Sylvain stared at his hands, which he was weaving together and then apart in his lap. Dimitri was not deterred and he took the two extra steps until he was beside Sylvain’s bed. Sylvain refused to look up, even as the lull in the conversation tugged at his mind. Anxiety bubbled in his gut, souring his mood. He had been having a good… well, okay day, and then he had to screw it up by opening his mouth. All he had to do was pretend for like five minutes to be a normal human being for once, and then Dimitri would have left feeling assured and guilt free. And Sylvain had to ruin it.
“Dimitri, it’s really not that serious,” Sylvain whispered.
“It is to me,” Dimitri responded, and Sylvain heard the rustle of clothing. He couldn’t help it. He had to know what Dimitri was doing, so he shot a quick glance at him. And then his head jolted up to stare at his king… kneeling before his bed, eye shiny, mouth set in a determined frown. “I’m sorry.”
Sylvain opened his mouth, eyes wide. The king never knelt to anyone. Probably not a lot of people knew the feeling of having a king, their king, kneel before them. “Dimitri, your majesty, this is unnecessary.”
Dimitri’s expression didn’t change. “It is necessary. I have led you to believe that you are not a friend to me.”
“That’s not what I said.” Dimitri shot him a look, which was less impactful due to the tears in his eye, but that sent a different wave of pain through Sylvain’s heart. “It really wasn’t what I said, or what I meant. Look, the war is still going on. We’re all a little melancholy. I forgive you, for how you acted while you were mad, okay?”
Dimitri sighed. “Not okay, Sylvain. Don’t tell me you forgive me because that’s what I want to hear and bottle up how you feel.”
“Dima, seriously, I didn’t take it to heart.”
“Calling me Dima is not going to get me to drop this.”
“It was worth a shot.” Another look was shot his way. “Look, I really didn’t mind. It wasn’t anything I wasn’t used to.”
“What?”
“What?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“By being used to it?”
“Yeah.”
“Well… I mean Miklan wasn’t the nicest to me.”
“He just called you names…”
“Ah, no, well, he sometimes… often… pretty much every day beat me up.”
“Sylvain!”
“It was normal.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s okay.”
“It had to be okay, and it’s fine because he’s dead.”
“You mourned him.”
“He was still my brother.”
Dimitri stared at him, and Sylvain shifted uncomfortably. “And your father?”
“My father?”
“You mentioned him earlier. What did he do?”
Sylvain shrugged. “He didn’t hit me…as often.” Dimitri’s jaw clenched. “Just made it abundantly clear my worth is my Crest, and otherwise, I’m useless.”
“He’s wrong.”
Sylvain laughed. “Not really. The Lance is more important than me. Even for our war efforts.”
“I love you.”
“What?”
“I love you.”
“You love Felix.”
“I do.”
“And Felix loves you.”
“He does.” Something clenched in Sylvain’s heart at the confirmation. “And we love you.”
“Dimitri, stop.”
“Do you think I’m lying?”
“I said stop.”
“No, I won’t push you farther on my feelings. But Felix loves you, and he would not leave you for anyone.”
“He’d leave me for you.”
Dimitri snorted. “Doubtful. Felix wouldn’t hurt you like that. He wouldn’t have started a relationship with you if you were just a filler.”
“He was pretending to hate you.”
“Yes, hate me, not you. He wouldn’t do that to you.”
“I feel like we’re going in circles.”
“Me too,” Dimitri said, “Here, let me prove it to you.”
“Prove what?”
Dimitri kissed him, and Sylvain’s whole body stiffened. Dimitri was gentle but determined, and Sylvain’s eyes fluttered closed until he heard the door open. He jolted away from the king, but Dimitri didn’t flinch even a bit.
“Finally told him, did you?” Felix asked, and Sylvain blinked at the man confused. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed at his chest. “How long did it take him to understand?”
“I don’t think he understands yet,” Dimitri answered, still hovering near Sylvain.
“We’ll just have to try harder then.”
“That we will.”