[Seeing his friends again after the isolation Cornelia recommended to Dimitri's uncle "for his health" after Duscur is harder than Dimitri thought it would be. Felix, at least, doesn't come as a surprise: even the recommendation of the woman that helped end the plague wasn't enough to keep his uncle from having Dimitri continue his training, and their reunion at their maiden battle did not go well. But seeing Ingrid so reserved when she'd always been such a tomboy makes him ache for her, and being able to recognize too many of Sylvain's smiles as being false now that his own are as well breaks his heart.
Not that any of them talk about it. They're all from the kingdom, that sort of weakness is driven out in childhood.
Still, it's nice to be at the academy. It's good to see Edelgard again, even if she doesn't remember him. After what happened with Felix, that's probably for the best. He worries about what might have happened to drain the color from her, but he can't even properly ask his own countrymen about their troubles, much less the imperial heir. Being around other kids his age is a pleasant change of pace as well — it's been quite some time since Dedue treated him as a peer, and he really needs the social interaction. His professor is promising as well, and Dimitri is always eager to learn.
Perhaps too eager. It's hotter at the monastery, but Dimitri has increased his training schedule rather than decreasing it like he probably should. He finds himself getting distracted in the late afternoon, predictably resulting in a lot of broken weapons. In this case, the blunt end of his training spear just snapped off and flew across the field to smack one of his classmates. Classes haven't started yet, but Dimitri is fairly certain they're in the same house...]
Are you all right?
[He jogs across the field and holds a hand down to the redhead, his other arm lifting to wipe the sweat from his own brow so he doesn't go dripping it on the poor boy. The heat has him out of uniform for once, which is unfortunate for Lutha: chances are, he'll have no idea who Dimitri is until it's too late.]
eventually i'll have scar-free icons but for now we pretend
[He was lucky, really, to have an adoptive father who was so insistent on teaching his child to defend themselves. A merchant didn't need the same kind of training as a soldier, no, but both would be in the same situation if chased down by a group of bandits. A knife would do the trick in a pinch, but ever eager to keep his face from view, Lutha easily found himself drawn to the bow.
The redhead nurses a sour disposition from his seat at the side of the training grounds, exhaling hard through the nose as he works to restring a training bow. Why he couldn't bring his bow from home was beyond him, but his parents had insisted it would be better to learn flexibility. Well, what kind of flexibility should he expect if the equipment wasn't even up to par--
Something careens across the training ground hard enough to be audible... but it's from his right, and so the redhead stays oblivious, doesn't budge, and is rudely knocked off his seat and onto his ass when the end of the spear clocks him upside the head.
He lets out a pained garble of a noise as he thuds against the dirt, one that becomes heavily irritated when his fingers feel the loss of tension against his weapon, the bowstring snapped clean. When the blonde runs over, blue eyes meet a deep, angry grey in return, blowing out a breath through his nose as he shoves the extended hand away. He sees only red at first, uncaring to take in the features of the person that is likely to retreat with the flare of his temper.]
Do I look injured to you? [Rubbing at his skull, Lutha shoves himself up to a sitting position, tossing the broken bow to the side with a little too much force, making a duo of nearby girls shriek at the noise.] Either get your damn eyes checked, or pay attention when you're flinging weapons around. Like hell the church will overlook someone getting killed by shrapnel before classes even start.
[The average person might flee when met with such a scathing temper, but Dimitri isn't at all average. Honestly, this boy isn't treating him all that differently from the way Felix does. Which is really quite jarring, since no stranger has ever disrespected him like this before. The shock that crosses Dimitri's face is easy to read — it's the look of a noble that's never been insulted before and can't even believe what they're hearing. But where that look would quickly morph to one of offense for most, Dimitri just seems... a little happy?
For a second, at least. Getting killed by shrapnel immediately has him in worry mode again. He firmly places a hand on Lutha's shoulder, making sure he doesn't do more than sit.
Even if it's likely to get him yelled at again.]
No, but I would not see an injury hidden beneath your hair. I'll take you to the infirmary. A head injury may not seem like a threat at first, but it can quickly develop into one. I have had a fair number of them myself; I would know.
[His gaze deadens towards the grip against his shoulder, lips thinned as his tone drops to something condescending.]
Oh. Wow. Who would have ever guessed.
[Brain injury? Going crazy with a weapon in a schoolyard? That sounds about right. Boo hoo. :\ He doesn't care about how crass an insult both the attitude and the implication hit for someone he doesn't even know. All that matters is the same as usual - gaining distance. Disgust was a nice, easy way to do that with the rich folk, and from how this guy talks, there's no way he ISN'T a blue blood of some sort.
Lutha rolls his eyes, shoving at the hand against his shoulder and momentarily surprised at the sheer resistance.]
Get off of me. I don't need someone thinking of playing nurse out of damn guilt.
[Indeed, Dimitri's hand doesn't budge. Lutha may as well have the strength of a toddler. He keeps right on looking worried through the implied insult, only showing displeasure when Lutha refuses him.]
I have no intention to nurse you. I am not qualified. I apologize for the inconvenience, but I really must insist you allow me to escort you to Professor Manuela.
[It's blunt. The cookie cutter apology just makes him look tired more than anything else, any genuine nature behind the words leeched out from sour expectations. He squirms under Dimitri's grip.]
I don't -- ghh -- don't need an escort for something as stupid as a headache. Let the commoner use his perfectly good commoner legs.
[Oh. He'd begun to wonder if perhaps this boy didn't know who he is, but apparently, he does. Dimitri colors slightly, finally releasing Lutha and getting to his feet. But he doesn't leave, quietly remaining nearby, ready to catch him if he starts to fall when he inevitably attempts to get up himself.]
When Dimitri's grip loosens enough, Lutha quickly jerks his shoulder to the side, rolling it a bit under his own hand before bracing himself to rise to his feet with a grunt. The side of his head sure does hurt, but all it serves is to give his grumpy disposition more fuel.]
Was that so goddamn hard? Figures, of course you're a noble...
[It's as he's grumbling his way through his composure that he actually spares a decent look at the bumbling rich fool that just nearly killed him and tried to soothe it over with Politeness. Even though they stand the same height, the two young men couldn't be more different in build - or, at least, Lutha has to assume so, given just how much strength pinned him to the ground with so little leverage. It's honestly a surprise to see the blond isn't just a block of muscle. Lutha's extent of strength has only ever led to lean lines of muscle and a flexibility that let him keep his dexterity - something he heavily prided himself over, even though the softer lines of his jaw and silhouette earned him the most annoying sorts of attention.
He'd expect the girls to go try to woo someone similar to Dimitri - soft words, strong body, probably dripping with the money of a lordship about as much as he's dripping sweat against fair skin, down the well defined curve of neck and shoulder--
Lutha catches himself actively staring a little too late, ripping his eyes away with a sputtered, annoyed sound from his lips as the heel of his palm rests against the tender point of his head.]
Look, just -- how about you focus on not throwing parts of your damn weapons around the room and maybe this sort of mess won't happen in the first place.
[Though he can tell he's being stared at, with Dimitri's utter lack of self-esteem he's sure that he's being viewed in a negative light. It makes him a little uncomfortable, but he doesn't complain about it.]
I didn't throw it, [Dimitri mutters quietly, not too eager to explain that his strength is such that weapons simply can't stand up to him for long. Felix is right; he's a beast. He's sure as hell sweating like a pig... Dimitri colors again, peeling his shirt away from his torso to let a little cool air in.
He doesn't take it off, of course. That would be crude.]
What, so did the Goddess come down and decide to throw the backend of your spear across the entire training hall?
[He lets out a sigh, briskly looking away again when the blond messes with his clothing. A couple of other students are staring at him like he's said something appalling. Whatever.]
Forget it. Just pay attention before it bites you in the ass.
[He turns on his heel, intent to march right out of the training hall and out to somewhere quieter on the school grounds. The greenhouse sounds appealing right about now--
-- except he makes it about four strides forward before his head starts to spin with a pulsing ring in his ear. His gait stutters a moment, but instead of stopping like any smart person would probably do, Lutha grits his teeth and keeps walking forward.
He, of course, teeters forward two steps later and nearly hits the ground again. Ow.]
[That's pretty close to blasphemy! Dimitri looks away from Lutha for just a second, briefly scanning the training grounds for any church officials. A few students look scandalized, but thankfully no one that might punish Lutha heard. By the time he looks to Lutha again, he's already wobbling a bit.
Well, that settles it. He'll just have to take him to the infirmary even if he yells in his ear on the way there. Dimitri's already starting to bulk up, but he's quicker than he looks. He rushes forward to catch Lutha before he hits the ground, smoothly scooping him up into a princess hold with seemingly no effort.]
I knew it, you are injured. We're going straight to the infirmary.
The second his weight is in the other boy's arms, Lutha flusters bright red all the way to his ears, immediately squirming like a particularly desperate fish in an attempt to not be completely humiliated in a walk through the teacher's hall like this.]
Wh-- NO! HEY! PUT ME DOWN!
[AAAAAAA
He is not grabbing or kicking, at least, but he sure is being as loud as possible!]
[Squirming will only get more people to notice, Lutha! Because Dimitri isn't impeded by it in the least. He just gets to walking, though he will pause at the exit to the grounds.]
If I let you walk, will you allow me to support you?
[That's a "no". Dimitri sighs and shakes his head, nudging the large doors open with his foot.]
Very well, then. This really would have been easier if you would just let me see you safely to the Professor, you know.
[Not that it seems at all difficult for Dimitri now. The flailing has no effect on his ability to hold Lutha and walk, though he will pause if his field of vision is blocked or if Lutha resorts to hair tugging. If Lutha listens quietly as they walk, he'll hear murmurs about "his highness" and "the prince", but no one actually approaches Dimitri. Seeing him carry someone struggling so effortlessly is definitely a reminder of his strength.]
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thegreatfurnace2021-04-22 03:22 pm
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Not that any of them talk about it. They're all from the kingdom, that sort of weakness is driven out in childhood.
Still, it's nice to be at the academy. It's good to see Edelgard again, even if she doesn't remember him. After what happened with Felix, that's probably for the best. He worries about what might have happened to drain the color from her, but he can't even properly ask his own countrymen about their troubles, much less the imperial heir. Being around other kids his age is a pleasant change of pace as well — it's been quite some time since Dedue treated him as a peer, and he really needs the social interaction. His professor is promising as well, and Dimitri is always eager to learn.
Perhaps too eager. It's hotter at the monastery, but Dimitri has increased his training schedule rather than decreasing it like he probably should. He finds himself getting distracted in the late afternoon, predictably resulting in a lot of broken weapons. In this case, the blunt end of his training spear just snapped off and flew across the field to smack one of his classmates. Classes haven't started yet, but Dimitri is fairly certain they're in the same house...]
Are you all right?
[He jogs across the field and holds a hand down to the redhead, his other arm lifting to wipe the sweat from his own brow so he doesn't go dripping it on the poor boy. The heat has him out of uniform for once, which is unfortunate for Lutha: chances are, he'll have no idea who Dimitri is until it's too late.]
eventually i'll have scar-free icons but for now we pretend
The redhead nurses a sour disposition from his seat at the side of the training grounds, exhaling hard through the nose as he works to restring a training bow. Why he couldn't bring his bow from home was beyond him, but his parents had insisted it would be better to learn flexibility. Well, what kind of flexibility should he expect if the equipment wasn't even up to par--
Something careens across the training ground hard enough to be audible... but it's from his right, and so the redhead stays oblivious, doesn't budge, and is rudely knocked off his seat and onto his ass when the end of the spear clocks him upside the head.
He lets out a pained garble of a noise as he thuds against the dirt, one that becomes heavily irritated when his fingers feel the loss of tension against his weapon, the bowstring snapped clean. When the blonde runs over, blue eyes meet a deep, angry grey in return, blowing out a breath through his nose as he shoves the extended hand away. He sees only red at first, uncaring to take in the features of the person that is likely to retreat with the flare of his temper.]
Do I look injured to you? [Rubbing at his skull, Lutha shoves himself up to a sitting position, tossing the broken bow to the side with a little too much force, making a duo of nearby girls shriek at the noise.] Either get your damn eyes checked, or pay attention when you're flinging weapons around. Like hell the church will overlook someone getting killed by shrapnel before classes even start.
no subject
For a second, at least. Getting killed by shrapnel immediately has him in worry mode again. He firmly places a hand on Lutha's shoulder, making sure he doesn't do more than sit.
Even if it's likely to get him yelled at again.]
No, but I would not see an injury hidden beneath your hair. I'll take you to the infirmary. A head injury may not seem like a threat at first, but it can quickly develop into one. I have had a fair number of them myself; I would know.
no subject
Oh. Wow. Who would have ever guessed.
[Brain injury? Going crazy with a weapon in a schoolyard? That sounds about right. Boo hoo. :\ He doesn't care about how crass an insult both the attitude and the implication hit for someone he doesn't even know. All that matters is the same as usual - gaining distance. Disgust was a nice, easy way to do that with the rich folk, and from how this guy talks, there's no way he ISN'T a blue blood of some sort.
Lutha rolls his eyes, shoving at the hand against his shoulder and momentarily surprised at the sheer resistance.]
Get off of me. I don't need someone thinking of playing nurse out of damn guilt.
no subject
I have no intention to nurse you. I am not qualified. I apologize for the inconvenience, but I really must insist you allow me to escort you to Professor Manuela.
no subject
[It's blunt. The cookie cutter apology just makes him look tired more than anything else, any genuine nature behind the words leeched out from sour expectations. He squirms under Dimitri's grip.]
I don't -- ghh -- don't need an escort for something as stupid as a headache. Let the commoner use his perfectly good commoner legs.
no subject
no subject
When Dimitri's grip loosens enough, Lutha quickly jerks his shoulder to the side, rolling it a bit under his own hand before bracing himself to rise to his feet with a grunt. The side of his head sure does hurt, but all it serves is to give his grumpy disposition more fuel.]
Was that so goddamn hard? Figures, of course you're a noble...
[It's as he's grumbling his way through his composure that he actually spares a decent look at the bumbling rich fool that just nearly killed him and tried to soothe it over with Politeness. Even though they stand the same height, the two young men couldn't be more different in build - or, at least, Lutha has to assume so, given just how much strength pinned him to the ground with so little leverage. It's honestly a surprise to see the blond isn't just a block of muscle. Lutha's extent of strength has only ever led to lean lines of muscle and a flexibility that let him keep his dexterity - something he heavily prided himself over, even though the softer lines of his jaw and silhouette earned him the most annoying sorts of attention.
He'd expect the girls to go try to woo someone similar to Dimitri - soft words, strong body, probably dripping with the money of a lordship about as much as he's dripping sweat against fair skin, down the well defined curve of neck and shoulder--
Lutha catches himself actively staring a little too late, ripping his eyes away with a sputtered, annoyed sound from his lips as the heel of his palm rests against the tender point of his head.]
Look, just -- how about you focus on not throwing parts of your damn weapons around the room and maybe this sort of mess won't happen in the first place.
no subject
I didn't throw it, [Dimitri mutters quietly, not too eager to explain that his strength is such that weapons simply can't stand up to him for long. Felix is right; he's a beast. He's sure as hell sweating like a pig... Dimitri colors again, peeling his shirt away from his torso to let a little cool air in.
He doesn't take it off, of course. That would be crude.]
no subject
[He lets out a sigh, briskly looking away again when the blond messes with his clothing. A couple of other students are staring at him like he's said something appalling. Whatever.]
Forget it. Just pay attention before it bites you in the ass.
[He turns on his heel, intent to march right out of the training hall and out to somewhere quieter on the school grounds. The greenhouse sounds appealing right about now--
-- except he makes it about four strides forward before his head starts to spin with a pulsing ring in his ear. His gait stutters a moment, but instead of stopping like any smart person would probably do, Lutha grits his teeth and keeps walking forward.
He, of course, teeters forward two steps later and nearly hits the ground again. Ow.]
no subject
Well, that settles it. He'll just have to take him to the infirmary even if he yells in his ear on the way there. Dimitri's already starting to bulk up, but he's quicker than he looks. He rushes forward to catch Lutha before he hits the ground, smoothly scooping him up into a princess hold with seemingly no effort.]
I knew it, you are injured. We're going straight to the infirmary.
no subject
What????
HELLO???
The second his weight is in the other boy's arms, Lutha flusters bright red all the way to his ears, immediately squirming like a particularly desperate fish in an attempt to not be completely humiliated in a walk through the teacher's hall like this.]
Wh-- NO! HEY! PUT ME DOWN!
[AAAAAAA
He is not grabbing or kicking, at least, but he sure is being as loud as possible!]
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If I let you walk, will you allow me to support you?
no subject
[That's a negative.
As soon as Dimitri stop, Lutha's trying to wriggle his way free. WHY IS HE NOT GOING ANYWHERE.]
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Very well, then. This really would have been easier if you would just let me see you safely to the Professor, you know.
[Not that it seems at all difficult for Dimitri now. The flailing has no effect on his ability to hold Lutha and walk, though he will pause if his field of vision is blocked or if Lutha resorts to hair tugging. If Lutha listens quietly as they walk, he'll hear murmurs about "his highness" and "the prince", but no one actually approaches Dimitri. Seeing him carry someone struggling so effortlessly is definitely a reminder of his strength.]