sworndevotion | karteria inbox

[Dimitri had been doing his best to keep an eye on Dedue after he'd returned. His behaviour was, well... a little too familiar. He recognized it all too well. And, unfortunately, it hadn't ever been something he'd been able to solve. Especially not on his own. So, the best he can do is try to check in with Dedue at least once a day. Ideally more. But sometimes he lost track of time himself.

Today, he heads to the common room first to grab some food for both of them before taking it to Dedue's room.

He knocks on Dedue's door, speaking up after he doesn't hear any movement from within.] Dedue, it's me. May I enter?

[Dedue has been sleeping a lot since returning. He hasn't been cooking at all. And when he's not sleeping, he's... Not all there. His golem soul shuts him down into a state of dormancy for hours at a time, which for all intents and purposes is like extreme disassociation. Staring at the wall, aware of what's around him but not feeling anything, physical or emotional, not moving, not thinking.

Whenever Dimitri checks on him, he tries to get out of bed and go down to the dining hall with his friend, tries to eat, tries to brush his teeth or comb his hair, because he knows he should. He knows he should be the one caring for Dimitri, and feels guilty for how useless he is to his liege. But the guilt only serves to intensify the dormancy, making him even more useless. Not a good cycle.

Still, Dimitri's presence is always a balm, especially with their imprint. Even if Dedue can't bring himself to do much, he knows he'd be much worse off without his friend checking in as regularly as he can. It's probably what's keeping him from full dormancy, keeping him responsive.

Because it goes like this: he's staring at the wall, stuck, unable to move even when he tries, and then he hears a knock, and then Dimitri's voice, and suddenly he's able to blink and move a little. His mouth no longer feels rusted shut, and he can call weakly:]

Yes.

[He moves his hand to press his palm against the bed, and while the intent is to push himself up to sitting, he can't get that far. It feels like his muscles are stuck, frozen, and his body weighs as much as pure lead.

Or... Steel.]

[Of course, Dimitri has noticed Dedue's much decreased mobility upon his return. He doesn't know what causes it, but he suspects it is his natural soul. Are his joints turning to stone? To metal? He just can't say. More than that, he's caught Dedue slipping into trances. It's the only way he can really explain it. He's awake but hardly alert.

It reminds him of the beast he'd devolved into in the past five years. There are far more parallels than he's comfortable with.

He pushes the door open, and it's like walking into the room of someone paralyzed. He can't help but think of the times he'd toured the army infirmary and shown soldiers who had survived but suffered injuries that would likely change their lives forever. It made his heart ache. And it was even worse seeing Dedue this way.]

I've brought you some breakfast. Or, rather, brunch, I suppose... [He admits sheepishly. More and more, he found himself wide awake at night and napping on and off throughout the day. This morning, he'd slept in far too long.] Egg, cheese and sausage sandwiches. And these, they're potatoes, they called them hashed browns, I believe.

[He sets the tray of food down on the bed beside Dedue so he can walk over to the tiny window and open the curtain, letting in sunlight. His intent is to make his way back to sit beside Dedue, but it appears as though Dedue may not have brushed his hair yet this morning (relatable, honestly), but he takes it upon himself to try to smooth it. Pausing in front of him, he runs his fingers through Dedue's hair to comb it back so he can re-tie it.] Will you eat something? For me?

[Still laying when Dimitri enters, the only thing that spurs him to sit up is that age-old habit of etiquette, that when royalty enters a room you must stand and bow. They're well past that sort of thing, and yet, laying down when Dimitri enters still feels deeply inappropriate and wrong.

He pushes himself up, slowly and stiffly, until he's sitting on the edge of his bed, slumped forward over his knees. Dedue is usually an early riser, but it's clear he hasn't been out of bed yet today, still in pajamas.]

Apologies...

[Is what he says in response to it being brunch, feeling guilty for sleeping in so late. Really, most of his greetings are apologies as of late, like he feels the need to apologize just for existing.]

Thank you. It smells good.

[Food is usually something that can make him feel better, but lately, he hasn't had much of an appetite. Whether that's because he's so melancholy, or whether it's an effect of corruption (Jayce had told him he doesn't eat food anymore), he isn't sure, but it troubles him. He hopes today he will be able to eat all of what Dimitri has brought.

He closes his eyes as Dimitri combs his fingers through his hair, their strong imprint making him feel a little less heavy, a little less numb.]

Yes, I will try.

[There's something about Dedue's tone that makes him question how much of what he's saying is simply to please him and how much is genuine. But it makes him feel a pang of guilt more than anything else. Is this how Dedue feels when he reassures him that he's enjoying the food he's made for him, knowing that he can't taste it? His intention had never been to patronize Dedue, only to try to make his gratitude known. He gives Dedue a soft smile and a small nod, feeling very much like he's doing the same, even if he does not truly want to eat.

He picks up one of the plated breakfast sandwiches and settles on the bed beside Dedue, the smell of the bacon and eggs making his stomach rumble. He realizes that perhaps he should have gotten more than one of these for himself.]

How are you feeling this morning? I trust you're not in any pain... [He glances over at his friend with a look of concern as he takes a big bite of the sandwich, his canines looking exceptionally long and sharp these days.]

[It is how he feels, sometimes. Though, he does appreciate Dimitri complimenting his cooking, even if he can't taste it. He knows Dimitri is just trying to show his gratitude for an act of care that means a lot to Dedue, and that is kind. When Dedue makes a meal for Dimitri, that is him saying "I care about you" without words, and Dimitri understands this, and thanks him for his care.

He moreso feels that strange guilt and helplessness when Dimitri is doing quite poorly, enough to brush Dedue off, or refuse to eat or go to bed. And Dedue... Certainly is in rough enough shape right now to compare to Dimitri at his worst. But he wants to get better. He does not want to brush off any help, because he knows what it is like to be on the offering end of that help, and knows how hard it is to see a loved one in such a state.

The sandwiches do smell good to him, and he was also saying it to show his appreciation for Dimitri coming by to care for him.

He picks one up, looks at Dimitri as he takes a big bite, his eyes flicking down to his lion-mouth. It always lifts Dedue's spirits a little to see him eat.]

No. I just... Had trouble getting myself going.

[There's still a bone-deep shame and an intense urge to apologize again. He takes a bite of the sandwich instead, considering its flavour and texture with a quiet hum.]

[It's perhaps stranger when meals smell delicious and then seem to lose that property as soon as they're in his mouth. But the bread is nice and hot, and the eggs and bacon are just the way he likes them. He really can't complain, even if he can't taste the sandwich.

He reaches out to put a reassuring hand on Dedue's arm dotingly while he chews the big bite he'd taken.]

Seems like that's been the case for you lately...

I- [He frowns a little, unsure what to say, unsure what he can do to help the person closest to him. He feels so useless.] Is there anyone who might... be experiencing similar symptoms? It's your Natural Soul... is it not?

[While he is fully focused on the conversation, his stomach is once again grumbling that he's stopped eating, so he takes another bite, nearly finishing the sandwich. Clearly, more will be needed, but one should at least sate him for the time being.]

A golem-type friend, Jayce, wrote notes of experiencing some kind of hibernation from his corruption. I think this is similar. It seems that in response to distress, the soul wants to...

[There's a brief flash in his mind of those golem-corpses under Kelesis. Were they killed suddenly, or did they have their energy sapped until they slowed and stopped, allowing themselves to be taken over by the plants?]

Shut down.

[He puts his own free hand atop Dimitri's on his arm, hoping the imprint can help fend off these disturbing thoughts.

He looks over again at Dimitri inhaling the sandwich, and his lip quirks up ever-so-slightly.]

My corruption is making me lose my appetite, while yours only gets stronger. I really ought to get back to the kitchen...

A kind of hibernation? [Dimitri's tone is careful, deliberate, and measured, his expression is very much the same. But he can't quite hide his unspoken question, or maybe it's more of a plea. Please, Dedue, don't leave him alone here.

He's not sure he could bear watching Dedue turn further into a statue. It seems like a fate worse than death. Here... but very much not.

But he still feels the flow of calm and warmth that he's come to recognize as imprinting when Dedue rests his hand on his arm.

He smiles, though it's far sadder than he'd intended.] You're not wrong. My appetite continues to surprise me. And the desire to eat a massive meal and then lounge around the rest of the day. [He shakes his head with a huff. He'd given in and gorged himself once and certainly plans to avoid doing so again.]

Yes...

[It's terrifying, to lose control like this. He knows imprints can help, and though he's bad at asking for it, there is a layer of desperation beneath all of this. A layer of fear that he will simply shut down and never come out of it. His hand tightens a little on Dimitri's, squeezing it.]

I am trying to fight against that. You are helping. But I detest being forced to lie in bed rather than take care of you the way I want to. I am sorry I cannot be more useful.

[There is a deep and heartbroken shame in his tone.]

Perhaps you should. I do like to see you eating more, and since there is a lack of noble duties to take care of here, you could afford a break.

[He sets the last bite of his sandwich down for a moment and leans in, headbutting Dedue's hand resting on top of his own before rubbing his face against it affectionately. It's so much better when Dedue smells like him... just a little.]

While I very much would like to see you out of bed more, it is not to take care of me. I'm doing just fine. It is you who I'm worried about, my friend.

[His stomach grumbles, though quietly, unwilling to let him forget about that last bite. Keeping his hand where it is and still leaning against Dedue, he snags that last bit of his sandwich and finishes it.] No, I don't think it would do to lounge about all day. There's plenty that needs doing around here.

And I should not eat more than my fair share either. The people are already worried about food stores. [They may not be his people to worry about like a King might, but he can't help himself.]

I know.

[The sweet act of the scent-marking softens and warms Dedue's gaze, and he puts his own sandwich down, because he cant help but reach out with his other hand to caress the side of Dimitri's face, his fingertips sliding gently into locks of blonde hair. His thumb rubs gently against his friend's cheekbone. Looking upon him, he gets that lovely ache again, that intense melancholy of yearning. Then, a second feeling: relief, that he's still able to feel those emotions. That he's not completely numb.

And then Dimitri chomps down the last bit of sandwich. Dedue releases an exhale that isn't quite a laugh, but does make him feel a little lighter.]

Not all day, but a nap cannot hurt. The rest and food is doing you good. You look much healthier these days.

[His smile falls slightly at the notion of a 'fair share' of food, though.]

You must eat what your body needs. There is nothing unfair about that.

[The caress is... so very, very comforting. Odd, but comforting. Far too good for him to linger too long on how out of place it seemed. The word inappropriate danced on his tongue, but if he didn't say anything, and Dedue was offering such a gesture, and they were both here, in this private space, what was the harm? He closes his eyes and tilts his head slightly to lean into Dedue's palm, feeling the warmth and contentment wash over him. Through him.]

Yes, it's becoming habit... A walk, an afternoon nap, and then the smell of dinner coming from the dining hall wakes me.

[He doesn't mention that he then doesn't usually sleep until the predawn hours. He feels awake and energetic once the sun sets. It's different than before, when he simply couldn't sleep.]

Hmm, perhaps, but if that is the case, I feel as though I should put more effort into helping procure that meat. Perhaps I should volunteer to hunt more.

[Dedue tries to keep the amourousness out of his gaze as he watches Dimitri lean into his touch. He likely fails, but it's hard to regret or retract such a gesture when he can see it brings Dimitri peace, and it loosens some of the stiffness in his own muscles in turn.]

That sounds pleasant. As I have said before, you need and deserve a break.

[It's alright if Dimitri has an unusual sleep schedule, as long as he is getting the rest he needs somehow.]

Not a bad idea. It would help the food shortage, and it may satisfy your soul.

[He has another bite of his sandwich.]

Personally, I am hoping to aid the Augmented farming effort when I am feeling more myself.

[He can't deny how that expression feels like it warms his whole being and breathes life into him. At the end of the day, the one thing he desires most is for Dedue to be happy and well. It's these moments that give him hope that Dedue will recover soon.

As for his own wellbeing, the dark circles are gone from under his eyes if that gives Dedue any reassurance.]

You're right, it likely would. I was never an avid hunter though... Perhaps I should lean into my soul, as you've suggested. I had not considered hunting in that way.

[His ears perk up a little at the mention of a farm. While he wasn't exactly confident in his predator instincts, he still had his strength and could certainly lend a hand at the farm.] I hope that time is soon, Dedue. If you would have me, I would love to accompany you. Surely, they could find some task I'd be capable of.

I imagine that your soul is skilled at it. Though it might simply eat all of your haul if you do not keep it on a short leash.

[He's unsure if those with 'wild animal' souls find them difficult to control... Dimitri's lion seems more like a housecat than a fierce predator, though, so maybe it would be easy to contend with.]

You would?

[He didn't expect Dimitri to want to spend time on the farm, but seems quite pleased that this is the case.]

It would be nice to have you there. I am certain there are heavy lifting and strength-based tasks you are well-suited to assist with.

[ Given that Dedue previously seemed to be a constant in the Valentia, the fact that his presence has recently been missing from the common areas is rather noticeable. Whether he was subjected to Patho-Gen's experiments himself or people close to him were, it's likely that there is a correlation. They may not know each other well, but Yesod decides to attempt contacting the other man, his thoughts lingering on the suffering inflicted upon those who were taken. ]

Greetings, Dedue. Are you unharmed?

[Indeed, Dedue was absent from the Valentia that week, and even now that everyone has returned, he hasn't been cooking in the kitchen, and has scarcely been out of his room.

He's pleasantly surprised to hear from Yesod, given that they only met a few times.]

Ah, hello, Yesod.

I cannot say I am unharmed, but I am healing.

And yourself?

[ Ah, Dedue has changed his username — Yesod is curious as to its meaning, but that seems a topic best left for another time. Dedue's response takes precedence, confirming his suspicions. It was, of course, impossible that recent events spared anyone, be it because of what they were forced to endure firsthand or otherwise. ]

I am relieved that you're recovering, in that case.

[ Physically, he assumes. He won't ask Dedue to elaborate via the Syntrofos, nor does he think that it would be appropriate for him to request the details, but it's the unseen harm that tends to take far longer to heal, and even suppressed memories resurface. ]

I suppose I'd simply like to mention that if I can be of assistance in some form, you're welcome to contact me.

[ Though he imagines that Dedue has no shortage of friends to turn to. ]

Oh, that is very kind of you to offer.

[He tries to think of something. Minutes pass, as his thoughts are slow to come. It's not that he doesn't need help— he is struggling, but he can't quite figure out what would be appropriate to ask for.]

It has been difficult to leave my room. I

[Wow, this is very difficult. He is not used to asking for help.]

It is helpful for food to be brought by, if that is convenient. You are under no obligation.

[ The hesitation might indicate that Dedue is reluctant to accept the offer, Yesod surmises. Perhaps it's out of a belief that he would impose on others, accustomed to taking care of them instead.

It must be distressing to find himself confined to his room. ]

That would hardly cause me any inconvenience. Do you have any particular preferences?

[Yes, yes, and yes. It is also highly distressing not to be useful to others, at the moment.]

I like fish in particular, but I am not picky. I am... Also beginning to crave metals, though I do not know where to source it from.

I'll keep both in mind. I'm afraid that as my culinary skills do not match yours, the food would be prepared by the Valentia's staff. I may be able to learn more to address your newer preferences, however.

[ That developing change, in addition to the physical ones, is probably quite unsettling. That said, cooking is clearly among Dedue's talents, and he might enjoy the prospect of even preparing dishes to meet the needs of Golem-type Augmented. ]

For now, which room number is yours?

There is no need to cook for me yourself. I will appreciate anything you bring.

[He does appreciate the challenge of creating meals to suit the nutritional needs of golem-types, as well as other soul-types. He wishes he had the capacity to explore that in his cooking right now, alas.

He sends along his room number.]

Thank you. Then I'll visit your room in approximately half an hour.

Dedue might be content to accept anything readily available, presumably in part to avoid burdening anyone, but Yesod finds himself wishing that he could procure a customized meal to bring with him. For one, he would prefer to be able to guarantee that the ingredients used are safe to consume, and considering that Dedue regularly cooked for others, he'd like to return the favor at least to some extent. Moreover, perhaps dishes that one anticipates would be pleasant even during a difficult time. The recipes found in Karteria's cookbooks are not especially appealing on the whole, however, nor has he had enough practice in the kitchen to improvise, whether in his first life or more recently.

Yesod settles for presenting the Valentia's staff with his requirements, though it seems that seafood remains scarce, generally not favored as a result of its associations and possible risks. In the end, the meal prepared is their menu's standard fare.

Tray in hand, Yesod makes his way to Dedue's room, where he knocks once before waiting for a response. He does wonder how severe the impact of Patho-Gen's actions has been. These small rooms may be no better than a cage themselves.

Upon receipt of this message, Dedue intends to rouse himself and make himself presentable for his kind visitor, but... He can't. Try as he might to make himself get out of bed, he can only lay there, staring at the sink across the room. His other soul seems to have the control over his body, trying to shut it down, and it takes all of his willpower just to stay awake and fight against that urge.

It's the knock and the urgent feeling that follows it that finally kicks his body into gear. He pushes himself to sit and then slowly stands, trying to smooth back long unwashed white hair that has long since fallen out of its usual neat tie. He limps to the door and opens it, but not fully, trying to hide the fact that he's in bedclothes. He speaks low and quiet.

"Yesod. Hello. My deepest apologies for my appearance."

Yesod hears the sound of Dedue's steps on the other side of the door — based on their cadence, an uneven gait, there are conclusions to draw about the man's likely injuries. Dedue, barely coming into view behind the door, also seems ashamed to be seen in his current condition at all. Yesod's brow furrows. He can certainly understand the discomfort of appearing disheveled, regardless of the reasons, but even he wouldn't deem that a priority in this instance.

"That isn't an issue, as far as I'm concerned." Or rather, it is an issue only in the sense that it's troubling, further proof that Dedue hasn't been faring well.

Yesod raises the tray of food, holding it steady near the doorway. "Nevertheless, would you prefer your privacy? If so, I'll wait here to collect the dishware."

"Ah..." He casts a wary glance back into his disheveled room. It is not fit for guests in the slightest, in his mind, but it feels much more rude to make Yesod wait in the hall.

"You may come in, if you won't mind the mess." He opens the door fully, stepping politely to the side to let Yesod enter.

Dedue's standards of cleanliness are high, so his idea of a 'mess' is mostly that there is some clothing on the floor and his bed is not made (because he was just in it).

"I hope you brought some for yourself as well." If Yesod was eating with him, that might assuage some of his guilt.

While Yesod may have exacting standards of cleanliness himself, and he would ordinarily agree that items on the floor and an unmade bed make for a room in unacceptable disarray, these circumstances are far from ordinary. Besides, an objective assessment would acknowledge that Dedue's room is in fact relatively tidy even now. Rather than focusing on its interior upon entering, Yesod regards Dedue, whose appearance has become properly visible.

If the main factor interfering with Dedue's customary daily routine were physical pain, that might be easier to overcome than other challenges — including the desire to conceal one's pain in any form. His friends must be willing to offer their assistance wherever needed.

In response to Dedue's remark, Yesod's gaze flicks down to the tray in his hands. Though he hadn't necessarily expected entry to Dedue's room, let alone that they would share the food, there should be enough for him to join Dedue. Alongside the sandwiches and muffins, there is a bowl of soup and a glass of water.

"Let us eat together, then." Hopefully that will allow Dedue to feel less self-conscious. "Where would you like to do so?"

Upon regarding Dedue, there is some evidence of what he's been through: a healing ring around his neck that most everyone who was taken has, plus a couple of other lacerations above his shirt collar. His left hand is wrapped in gauze, and only three fingers and his thumb stick out of it. On the back of his other hand is a plate of warped steel, brittle and full of holes.

Dedue considers the question in silence for a while, his mind taking extra time to process. Looking over his room, there really isn't much space, not even a desk they could use for a surface.

"I suppose the bed will have to do."

His limp is pronounced as he moves back to his bed, his movements stiff and slow as he moves the lamp carefully off of his nightstand and onto the windowsill. He puts the gold jewelry on its surface into the drawer and moves the little table to the middle of the bed's long edge, so Yesod can place the tray on it. He pulls up and straightens the bed covers before sitting.

Studying Dedue too closely will undoubtedly worsen his discomfort, Yesod thinks, but even what little he can see exposed is troubling, too. He can't help but recall the various accounts shared during the recent encrypted discussion, the mention of lost limbs and the extent of the targeted experiments that took place. It's despicable, no less intolerable than the City, no matter the justification.

Yet despite his body's limitations, Dedue rearranges his room to create a temporary dining table; Yesod waits until the other man is seated, setting the tray down atop the nightstand then. Finally, he takes a seat on the edge of the bed beside Dedue himself, where he intends to reach for one of the muffins.

It does occur to him that some of the food may be difficult to hold, which isn't ideal...

For the moment, he opts to make an attempt to mitigate the likelihood that Dedue indeed feels that he is inconveniencing others. "I appreciate the opportunity to speak with you in person again, Dedue. Particularly as I will be leaving the Valentia's accommodations soon."

As he looks at the food, he's disappointed to find that he has little appetite for it. Likely a mixture of his current condition, his soul's progression, and the general poor quality of the food in the Valentia. He's spoiled himself with his own cooking. The meatloaf seems most appealing, perhaps because it may have traces of iron in it, so he gingerly picks up the fork with his better hand and cuts into it.

"Is that so?"

His response comes slowly, as does his chewing, and there's a few long moments before he continues.

"I believe I am overstaying my welcome currently, but I cannot fathom moving at the moment. Do you have friends to move in with?"

No doubt eating at all, recognizing that managing it is advisable, is easier said than done when one's mind and body object. All the same, once Dedue begins, Yesod lowers his gaze to his own food to afford the man some semblance of privacy, as well as ensure that no crumbs land anywhere but the plate. He hopes that enough of the available options will suit Dedue's nutritional needs and prove reasonably palatable until a better meal can be provided, at least.

When Dedue's answer comes, Yesod pauses between bites to look back up at him, replying in turn after swallowing his mouthful of muffin.

"Yes, the three of us have known one another for quite some time." Though it's considerably less straightforward than summarizing it in these words might imply. "Perhaps you've already met them: Malkuth and Angela." The plans to reside in a shared space again are part of the reason why Yesod has endeavored to familiarize himself with a variety of recipes, to tell the truth.

"I would hope that the arrangement with the Valentia will remain in place while you recover, but you and your friends will presumably also seek housing elsewhere in the city at a later date?"

He chews mechanically, finding little joy in eating due to his lack of appetite and the poor options here at the Valentia, but he is grateful for any sort of food after being starved at that facility.

"Hm..." He ponders this for a long moment. "It is possible Malkuth helped at the dinner I hosted some time ago. The name is familiar." He made an effort to learn and memorize the name of each person who offered to help, but it has been a few months, and his memory is spotty these days.

"In any case, I am glad you found a favorable arrangement. I will ask my... Friend, Dimitri, once I feel ready." He almost calls him his liege or something similar before remembering that Dimitri wants to simply be his friend, especially here. "We have lived close to one another for the better part of a decade, so I cannot imagine he would say no."

A small smile settles across Yesod's lips then. Knowing Malkuth, it isn't surprising that she might have volunteered to assist, quick to lend a hand wherever she could upon arriving in this world. He's certain that Dedue's dinner was a success — both because of the man's skill in the kitchen, and because it must have brought many people together to enjoy the gathering.

It's good to know, too, that Dedue has a trustworthy companion to rely on here. Perhaps the term "friend" doesn't encompass the relationship precisely, judging by his brief pause, but he and Dimitri are close, by the sound of it. Any location might gain the association of home, in that case.

"Then I'm pleased to hear it." There should be some improved safety in numbers. "Until then, are you amenable to occasional visits?" Yesod glances at the tray. "Ideally, that would come to include a more appetizing menu."

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@yesod; post-october trauma week checking in

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