[It was foolish, riding out like this. Arrogant. It doesn't matter that the King of Faerghus and his right-hand advisor are a formidable duo, still battle-honed and ready for action despite the end of the war; they're barely two weeks into a three-moon-long tour of war-torn Faerghus, and there was no reason—no reason—for them to ride ahead of the king's retinue, seeking to verify reports of a particularly nasty band of bandits in the area. That's what scouts are for, after all. Battalions.
But here is the simple truth: Felix was by Dimitri's side when the reports were delivered. Felix watched Dimitri's face tighten as he considered the villagers being terrorized by these well-organized bandits, of which many were former Adrestian soldiers. Felix saw that flicker of guilt, as though he were to blame, and Felix felt a familiar flash of annoyance so strong it sent him turning away. Always making things difficult for himself, this king of theirs! Always wanting to make up for the past so, so badly that he allows his many emotions to weigh him down, and Felix...
...Well. Felix didn't always know what to do, in their shared past; Felix doesn't always know what to do now, which is why he winds up agreeing to ride out with Dimitri. Felix has always known where he stands on the battlefield. There's no uncertainty, no time to deal with his own tumultuous emotions, because only one thing matters: survival.
Felix is good at surviving. So, too, is Dimitri, and thus Felix isn't terribly concerned when they're swarmed by a small groupd bandits in some backwoods clearing, cut off from escape by a cleverly executed pincer maneuver. It's dusk, made darker by the canopy of trees, and Felix sees the familiar glow of Areadbhar from the corner of his eye. It's reassuring, in a strange way. A unnecessary reminder that Dimitri can and will fight, which Felix takes to heart as he swings off his horse and draws one of his swords. They've fought more; they've fought worse.
These bandits, however, fight smart.
They manage to separate Felix from Dimitri early in the fight? Surround him and pull him to the side, a new bandit seemingly taking the place of every bandit Felix manages to fell—and Felix fells many. It is, Felix (grudgingly) thinks, a smart strategy; it's a clear attempt to wear him down before taking him out, but Felix keeps his composure, minutes ticking by as he crosses swords with enemy after enemy. It's a war of attrition, after all. He assumes they're treating Dimitri the same way.
And maybe they are! Or maybe they're approaching Dimitri in a different manner entirely. Felix can't spare the time to look back at him—and thus Felix misses the precise moment a bandit manages to pierce Dimitri's side.
But Felix hears a grunt, equal parts surprise and pain. Felix kicks down an opponent just in time to turn and watch Dimitri press a hand to his wound, and Felix sees red, red, red.
He rarely relies on his magic in a fight. It's less effective than, say, a blade piercing a man's chest—but it's Thoron he fires off this time. Thoron and Thunder, again and again, until the ring of bandits around both of them thin, until he's able to cut his way through to his oldest, stupidest friend. He's barely aware of his own injuries, relatively minor as they are; he focuses first on the bandits, watching as the survivors flee, before he focuses solely on Dimitri. One gauntlet is holding tight to Areadbhar, using the Relic as a makeshift support; the other is pressed to his wound, and Felix eyes it, pressing his lips into a thin line as something twists within him. The blood...]
You fool, [he all but snarls, lowering his sword just before he crowds closer, reaching out to Areadbhar to curl the fingers of his free hand about Dimitri's wrist.] Overwhelmed. You should have— why didn't you call for me?
[The Relic is undoubtedly helping Dimitri remain standing, but Felix tries to lift Dimitri's arm higher, to slip it over his shoulders as he slips beneath it. Better to lean on him than some weapon, height difference be damned.]
[ Dimitri is a fool, indeed, though not for charging ahead of his troops and defending the weak; never a fool for protecting his people. But nonetheless, a fool.
These bandits may fight smart, but there was more to them than simple wits. Even in the heat of battle-- no, especially in the heat of battle, he could see a spark in their eyes, the last ember of a fire he once knew so well. These weren't mere thieves looking to pillage and scatter away with gold; these men were once soldiers of Adrestia, and even now, they remained loyal to their Emperor, loyal to the ideals she had so obstinately chased to the end. They weren't looking for any meager treasure; it was revenge they sought, and only the King's head would do.
And as much he wouldn't surrender, as much as he had promised to never look back... He couldn't help but hold some respect for them. So he would fight them himself, and with that, hope to honor their devotion. Perhaps, even honor her.
It was foolish, he knew. If he were to share his reasoning with Felix, he would surely (and rightfully) admonish him for this particular brand of reckless compassion.
Alas, their methods proved to be far from honorable, and once the former soldiers managed to pry him apart from Felix, Dimitri was left to take them on one by one... until they came in higher numbers, from behind. He still managed to pivot on his dominant foot and gain some traction for a jump, but a flash of pain burned through his flesh before his whole body could lift off. Areadbhar sinks deep into the ground as he falls, his only source of support until Felix comes to his rescue. Had he not been there, Dimitri would surely have met his end.
He definitely, definitely couldn't tell Felix now. His gratitude and apologies would have to suffice, if a lifetime would not. ]
I trusted you to come to my aid, as you always do. [ Said as he leans on that generously offered shoulder, only half wondering if Felix's smaller build could handle the bulk of his weight. ] That is why you have followed me without objections, is it not?
[ It's just one more of their silent agreements, one more thing they never really openly talk about. There is a multitude of feelings weighing Dimitri down, and ensuring survival is how Felix shows respect for them; quietly acquiescing to reprimands is how Dimitri welcomes his. ]
[Felix is smaller, and leaner, but it's amazing what (spiteful) stubbornness can do? Along with a weight in his stomach that he tells himself is wariness, but knows is something far more shameful: fear. How stupid, given that he's yet to gauge the severity of Dimitri's wound; he needs to ensure the area is clear, first, needs to find somewhere safe for Dimitri to sit and easy for himself to guard, and yet...
...And yet. The simple truth of the matter is that Felix thought he'd lost Dimitri, once. Twice, really, and some not-so-small part of him is waiting for—expecting—Dimitri to disappear again. For good, this time—and isn't that the real reason Felix rode alongside Dimitri today? Why he accompanies Dimitri, fusses at Dimitri, challenges Dimitri at every available opportunity. Dimitri has made a habit of leaving; Felix refuses to be left.
So this, then: Felix gritting his teeth as he transfers his sword to his non-dominant hand, all so he can reach behind Dimitri, pressing a palm to his lower back. Felix ignoring the strange flash of guilt Dimitri's words produce.]
Don't pretend to understand me, [Felix shoots back, voice low, as he leads them forward, toward an old, particularly wide tree.] It's pointless, arguing with a beast. That's all.
[Never mind the fact that he argues with Dimitri all the damn time—and never mind the fact that Felix calls him boar less often, these days. A hard habit to break, but Dimitri isn't as he once was... and neither is Felix, even if he's still him enough to add:]
[ Now, meaning right after this incident, yes, but also now that he is no longer on a mad rampage, his thirst for revenge blinding his actions-- quite literally at that, too. And the worst part is, losing one eye hadn't even been as bad as it would get. So many times had he had he flirted with the ultimate demise, had gasped sweet nothings in the throes of bleeding, had hoped against hope that he could finally be taken... And yet, Death had never taken pity on him. It only ever took from him.
He has to wonder if Death will spare him a second glance, now that he finally wants to live.
Felix's words, though... ah, those sting worse than his open wound. Dimitri does understand him, all too well, and that may be the only reason why he doesn't bother to argue his point. He needs to spare his strength and stay conscious, or else he would only wind up making his friend even more scared. Death has already taken much from him, too.
So once they make it to the tree and Felix helps him down, Dimitri rummages through his belongings to find one last Concoction vial, just enough for maybe a couple of sips. It's not much, but he chugs it down in a single gulp, a sigh escaping his lips as that little bit of renewed energy courses through his body. This should last him until a healer can see to his wound, at least. ]
I am sorry for troubling you like this. [ The apology cannot wait, kept ambiguous on purpose. Having to haul his massive form and guard him is a strenuous task as it is, but to Felix, caring about someone as reckless as Dimitri surely is the greater burden. ] But, I am afraid you will have to tolerate me for a while longer.
[ A while longer, until their retinue will catch up to them. A while longer, as Dimitri continues to repent and restore and live. ]
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dima gets stabbed: the thread
But here is the simple truth: Felix was by Dimitri's side when the reports were delivered. Felix watched Dimitri's face tighten as he considered the villagers being terrorized by these well-organized bandits, of which many were former Adrestian soldiers. Felix saw that flicker of guilt, as though he were to blame, and Felix felt a familiar flash of annoyance so strong it sent him turning away. Always making things difficult for himself, this king of theirs! Always wanting to make up for the past so, so badly that he allows his many emotions to weigh him down, and Felix...
...Well. Felix didn't always know what to do, in their shared past; Felix doesn't always know what to do now, which is why he winds up agreeing to ride out with Dimitri. Felix has always known where he stands on the battlefield. There's no uncertainty, no time to deal with his own tumultuous emotions, because only one thing matters: survival.
Felix is good at surviving. So, too, is Dimitri, and thus Felix isn't terribly concerned when they're swarmed by a small groupd bandits in some backwoods clearing, cut off from escape by a cleverly executed pincer maneuver. It's dusk, made darker by the canopy of trees, and Felix sees the familiar glow of Areadbhar from the corner of his eye. It's reassuring, in a strange way. A unnecessary reminder that Dimitri can and will fight, which Felix takes to heart as he swings off his horse and draws one of his swords. They've fought more; they've fought worse.
These bandits, however, fight smart.
They manage to separate Felix from Dimitri early in the fight? Surround him and pull him to the side, a new bandit seemingly taking the place of every bandit Felix manages to fell—and Felix fells many. It is, Felix (grudgingly) thinks, a smart strategy; it's a clear attempt to wear him down before taking him out, but Felix keeps his composure, minutes ticking by as he crosses swords with enemy after enemy. It's a war of attrition, after all. He assumes they're treating Dimitri the same way.
And maybe they are! Or maybe they're approaching Dimitri in a different manner entirely. Felix can't spare the time to look back at him—and thus Felix misses the precise moment a bandit manages to pierce Dimitri's side.
But Felix hears a grunt, equal parts surprise and pain. Felix kicks down an opponent just in time to turn and watch Dimitri press a hand to his wound, and Felix sees red, red, red.
He rarely relies on his magic in a fight. It's less effective than, say, a blade piercing a man's chest—but it's Thoron he fires off this time. Thoron and Thunder, again and again, until the ring of bandits around both of them thin, until he's able to cut his way through to his oldest, stupidest friend. He's barely aware of his own injuries, relatively minor as they are; he focuses first on the bandits, watching as the survivors flee, before he focuses solely on Dimitri. One gauntlet is holding tight to Areadbhar, using the Relic as a makeshift support; the other is pressed to his wound, and Felix eyes it, pressing his lips into a thin line as something twists within him. The blood...]
You fool, [he all but snarls, lowering his sword just before he crowds closer, reaching out to Areadbhar to curl the fingers of his free hand about Dimitri's wrist.] Overwhelmed. You should have— why didn't you call for me?
[The Relic is undoubtedly helping Dimitri remain standing, but Felix tries to lift Dimitri's arm higher, to slip it over his shoulders as he slips beneath it. Better to lean on him than some weapon, height difference be damned.]
no subject
These bandits may fight smart, but there was more to them than simple wits. Even in the heat of battle-- no, especially in the heat of battle, he could see a spark in their eyes, the last ember of a fire he once knew so well. These weren't mere thieves looking to pillage and scatter away with gold; these men were once soldiers of Adrestia, and even now, they remained loyal to their Emperor, loyal to the ideals she had so obstinately chased to the end. They weren't looking for any meager treasure; it was revenge they sought, and only the King's head would do.
And as much he wouldn't surrender, as much as he had promised to never look back... He couldn't help but hold some respect for them. So he would fight them himself, and with that, hope to honor their devotion. Perhaps, even honor her.
It was foolish, he knew. If he were to share his reasoning with Felix, he would surely (and rightfully) admonish him for this particular brand of reckless compassion.
Alas, their methods proved to be far from honorable, and once the former soldiers managed to pry him apart from Felix, Dimitri was left to take them on one by one... until they came in higher numbers, from behind. He still managed to pivot on his dominant foot and gain some traction for a jump, but a flash of pain burned through his flesh before his whole body could lift off. Areadbhar sinks deep into the ground as he falls, his only source of support until Felix comes to his rescue. Had he not been there, Dimitri would surely have met his end.
He definitely, definitely couldn't tell Felix now. His gratitude and apologies would have to suffice, if a lifetime would not. ]
I trusted you to come to my aid, as you always do. [ Said as he leans on that generously offered shoulder, only half wondering if Felix's smaller build could handle the bulk of his weight. ] That is why you have followed me without objections, is it not?
[ It's just one more of their silent agreements, one more thing they never really openly talk about. There is a multitude of feelings weighing Dimitri down, and ensuring survival is how Felix shows respect for them; quietly acquiescing to reprimands is how Dimitri welcomes his. ]
my rp drive returns from the war
...And yet. The simple truth of the matter is that Felix thought he'd lost Dimitri, once. Twice, really, and some not-so-small part of him is waiting for—expecting—Dimitri to disappear again. For good, this time—and isn't that the real reason Felix rode alongside Dimitri today? Why he accompanies Dimitri, fusses at Dimitri, challenges Dimitri at every available opportunity. Dimitri has made a habit of leaving; Felix refuses to be left.
So this, then: Felix gritting his teeth as he transfers his sword to his non-dominant hand, all so he can reach behind Dimitri, pressing a palm to his lower back. Felix ignoring the strange flash of guilt Dimitri's words produce.]
Don't pretend to understand me, [Felix shoots back, voice low, as he leads them forward, toward an old, particularly wide tree.] It's pointless, arguing with a beast. That's all.
[Never mind the fact that he argues with Dimitri all the damn time—and never mind the fact that Felix calls him boar less often, these days. A hard habit to break, but Dimitri isn't as he once was... and neither is Felix, even if he's still him enough to add:]
You don't know your limits.
now time for the spoils
[ Now, meaning right after this incident, yes, but also now that he is no longer on a mad rampage, his thirst for revenge blinding his actions-- quite literally at that, too. And the worst part is, losing one eye hadn't even been as bad as it would get. So many times had he had he flirted with the ultimate demise, had gasped sweet nothings in the throes of bleeding, had hoped against hope that he could finally be taken... And yet, Death had never taken pity on him. It only ever took from him.
He has to wonder if Death will spare him a second glance, now that he finally wants to live.
Felix's words, though... ah, those sting worse than his open wound. Dimitri does understand him, all too well, and that may be the only reason why he doesn't bother to argue his point. He needs to spare his strength and stay conscious, or else he would only wind up making his friend even more scared. Death has already taken much from him, too.
So once they make it to the tree and Felix helps him down, Dimitri rummages through his belongings to find one last Concoction vial, just enough for maybe a couple of sips. It's not much, but he chugs it down in a single gulp, a sigh escaping his lips as that little bit of renewed energy courses through his body. This should last him until a healer can see to his wound, at least. ]
I am sorry for troubling you like this. [ The apology cannot wait, kept ambiguous on purpose. Having to haul his massive form and guard him is a strenuous task as it is, but to Felix, caring about someone as reckless as Dimitri surely is the greater burden. ] But, I am afraid you will have to tolerate me for a while longer.
[ A while longer, until their retinue will catch up to them. A while longer, as Dimitri continues to repent and restore and live. ]