[Dimitri doesn't think about it. He doesn't even really have the impulse control to stop himself, anyway.
They've been sitting in on meetings and meetings and more meetings. Peace in Fódlan was a grand and beautiful thing but it comes at a cost. Dimitri is far more suited to the exhilaration of battle, the threat of danger, and the promise of death. Nowadays he's confined to a desk, paperwork, and lending an ear to the troubles of his people. He is king and he is happy to do so, like his father before him, but it is still hard to get used to.
The voices of the dead still warble in his ears on occasion, particularly when he is overwhelmed by people in their meetings talking louder and louder and louder. Listening to Ferdinand and Lorenz fire back and forth at one another is entertaining for only so long. Sylvain and Ingrid, sometimes Felix, argue for him with Dimitri giving his opinions on matters here and there but it always causes the ache to creep back into the space behind his missing eye.
Listening to her speak is sometimes his only solace. Edelgard is the only one who can get Dimitri standing, shouting, slamming his fists as they argue back and forth. She brings a vigor to him that he can’t contain and makes the noise in his mind go away as long as they go at it. Something about it is more like the battlefield and less like the droning of endless summits they attend now that they have laid down their arms.
It riles him up too badly to be contained some days. More than once he has broken a table down the middle or destroyed chairs. He has ripped doors off their hinges in his rage, storming away before a conclusion is even reached.
Today wasn’t one of those, he’d sat and listened and participated just as he was meant to. He is more ready than ever to leave when they adjourn, lifting himself up and leaving the chambers where their former teacher and new archbishop stays behind to handle any comment or concern left over.
But he can’t stop himself as they exit the hall. He doesn’t even think about how disruptive it is for Edelgard when he pulls one arm around her and pulls her up and off her feet, leaving her little red heels dangling. It’s like she doesn’t weigh a thing.
His wife is just so very small, everything about her drives him mad— in a wonderful way, not the usual way.]
I want away from this place.
[He tells her, ignoring the looks of others that file past his wide frame just outside the doorway. He cups under her ass effortlessly with one big hand and squeezes greedily.]
You can have cakes and things with the women later. Take lunch with me, El.
[It's a request to her but also something of a gentle order as Dedue walks past and away, off to get a meal ready for the both of them. Dimitri would rather he not take such things so seriously but he can't stop him what makes him happy. He looks at her in his arms and leans to claim her mouth with a kiss.]
as much or as little of the au as u want......... owo
They've been sitting in on meetings and meetings and more meetings. Peace in Fódlan was a grand and beautiful thing but it comes at a cost. Dimitri is far more suited to the exhilaration of battle, the threat of danger, and the promise of death. Nowadays he's confined to a desk, paperwork, and lending an ear to the troubles of his people. He is king and he is happy to do so, like his father before him, but it is still hard to get used to.
The voices of the dead still warble in his ears on occasion, particularly when he is overwhelmed by people in their meetings talking louder and louder and louder. Listening to Ferdinand and Lorenz fire back and forth at one another is entertaining for only so long. Sylvain and Ingrid, sometimes Felix, argue for him with Dimitri giving his opinions on matters here and there but it always causes the ache to creep back into the space behind his missing eye.
Listening to her speak is sometimes his only solace. Edelgard is the only one who can get Dimitri standing, shouting, slamming his fists as they argue back and forth. She brings a vigor to him that he can’t contain and makes the noise in his mind go away as long as they go at it. Something about it is more like the battlefield and less like the droning of endless summits they attend now that they have laid down their arms.
It riles him up too badly to be contained some days. More than once he has broken a table down the middle or destroyed chairs. He has ripped doors off their hinges in his rage, storming away before a conclusion is even reached.
Today wasn’t one of those, he’d sat and listened and participated just as he was meant to. He is more ready than ever to leave when they adjourn, lifting himself up and leaving the chambers where their former teacher and new archbishop stays behind to handle any comment or concern left over.
But he can’t stop himself as they exit the hall. He doesn’t even think about how disruptive it is for Edelgard when he pulls one arm around her and pulls her up and off her feet, leaving her little red heels dangling. It’s like she doesn’t weigh a thing.
His wife is just so very small, everything about her drives him mad— in a wonderful way, not the usual way.]
I want away from this place.
[He tells her, ignoring the looks of others that file past his wide frame just outside the doorway. He cups under her ass effortlessly with one big hand and squeezes greedily.]
You can have cakes and things with the women later. Take lunch with me, El.
[It's a request to her but also something of a gentle order as Dedue walks past and away, off to get a meal ready for the both of them. Dimitri would rather he not take such things so seriously but he can't stop him what makes him happy. He looks at her in his arms and leans to claim her mouth with a kiss.]