For sleepyscholar

[onereason]

[The trail of blood and bodies was obvious and easy to follow, but like the dying, wounded animal he was, Dimitri had crawled into one of the old first floor rooms at the monastery to curl up and finally die. He'd dropped his spear by the door, the handle getting caught on something, maybe the doorframe itself, and tumbling out of his hand unnoticed. He could taste blood as he curled up on his side, a gloved hand pressed to his shoulder. Even through the metal plating and thick leather, he could feel the warmth, his own blood, his life, seeping out between his fingers.

A fitting end, he thought bitterly, a beast finally overrun by the vermin it hunted.]

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[sleepyscholar]

[Linhardt knew that he shouldn't be returning to the ruins of Garreg Mach by himself. Considering the state of conflict in Fodlan, the ride from Enbarr was a dangerous one with the threat of enemy soldiers or thieves and bandits at any turn.

Still, he had to go, even if what he'd heard was only a rumor.

It was the value of said rumor that encouraged him to pack up and take his horse on that journey, sneaking around Edelgard and the other Empire nobles who would be horrified if they knew where his real allegiance rested even after the past few years.

King Dimitri had been spotted near the old monastery, according to his source. A ghost, perhaps, but Linhardt thought the description sounded too real not to investigate for himself. If Dimitri really was still alive, then he would need help. He would need people who were loyal to him to return to his side once more.

But Linhardt wasn't going to contact anyone in Faerghus until he could verify the rumor first.

Garreg Mach was in a truly sorry state. After dismounting and finding a place in the old stables for his horse, he started toward one of the only clear doorways remaining. The sight of blood immediately caught his eye, making his chest tighten and nausea nearly overwhelm him from the sheer amount before him. He never got over his fear of blood, but for now he would have to deal with it as he followed the trail to a certain room.

There he saw a figure in a large fur-lined coat curled up, bloodstained. The blond hair was enough to drive him forward, falling to his knees as he felt sure the rumor was confirmed.]

Dimitri!

[onereason]

[Dimitri was still and pale but breathing. It's shallow and quiet. His lance discarded by the entranceway, Dimitri hadn't bothered to grab the dagger tucked in his boot. He'd known it was over. He'd simply crawled somewhere where he could die alone. For the moment, even the voices of the dead were silent. They were likely looking on with disdain, watching this wretched beast fail them for the last and final time.

He heard his name and, for a moment, he assumed it was his father, or Glenn, or his stepmother, yelling at him, berating him, but... no... there was concern in that voice.

He fights to open his eye and fails, only succeeding in stirring slightly and parting his lips in an attempt to take another breath.]