Dorothy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ungratefuloz) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sranks2025-09-25 08:34 pm
ungratefuloz) wrote in sranks2025-09-25 08:34 pm
GRATUITOUS DEATH AHOY
oh boy, look at the time! time to cry!!!
(catch all for the last words meme, aka bakerstreet's only good meme--)
(catch all for the last words meme, aka bakerstreet's only good meme--)
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Linhardt's flank is fine. They're still fighting Church soldiers and are holding their own in the clash. The sound isn't coming from straight ahead either, where Lady Edelgard cuts her way through Dimitri's troops. Then it must be coming from‐]
Dorothea—
[It's Dedue. Of course it's Dedue, because he would do anything for Dimitri. Becoming a monster - an unleashed, wild and rabid dog - wouldn't even phase him. As long as it meant protecting Dimitri, the sacrifice would be worth it.
(As long as it means protecting Lady Edelgard, any sacrifice is worth it.)
The others on that side of the battlefield have Dedue— the beast's attention. Petra flits about it on her pegasus while Bernadetta pelts it with arrows from afar. It's firmly distracted. But even if it wasn't, there isn't a damn thing in the world that could have stopped Hubert from warping over there in a heartbeat.
Lady Edelgard's shout rings in his ears - not for him to stop, but Dorothea's name - a heart-wrenching, devastated call from a woman who can't turn her eyes away from her path for even a moment. She needs to be firm and resolute. She needs to make any sacrifice worth it.
And this is a sacrifice - Hubert knows that even as his feet touch the ground and he drops to his knees. Dorothea's dress - the one he's always thought of as a bit too grand to wear onto the field of battle - is stained with her own blood, and those claw marks have ripped gaping wounds into her that couldn't be sealed with any amount of magic. He knows this. He also knows it's pointless to try.
...That doesn't stop Hubert's (rather pathetic) attempts to do just that. The Professor had taught him a little. Not nearly enough for wounds this large, but he has to try. For Lady Edelgard's sake.
For Dorothea's sake.
(For his own sake. Because he can't, he can't lose her.)]
I'm here, Dorothea.
[The words are soft, barely shaking as he moves to heal with one hand, retrieve his cape with the other. It won't do much to staunch the bleeding, but that's what he's trying to do with it regardless. He has to hope it will work, because there isn't a deity he believes in to pray to.]
Speak to me. Try to stay conscious.
[An unfair ask of a woman who is dying.]
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(She could swear she hears Edie crying out her name, but she knows better than anyone she won't turn around. She can't--this is her path, and she can't stray for a moment.)
Of all the people she expected to see, though, Hubie wasn't even close to being on that list. Not because she doesn't think he'd want to, of course; because he has to. He'll always be at Edie's side, or at least, that's what Dorothea thought.
If these were better times, maybe she'd ask him if he were really considering her offer, but that faint healing magic...it gets her to smile, just the slightest bit.]
Oh...Hubie...
[Dorothea attempts to chuckle, but it comes out shaky and she has to cough shortly after it--her body jerking violently upward and likely undoing any progress Hubert had managed to make. She looks up at him, green eyes going dull and glassy by the moment.]
...Thank you.
[Tears start to well in Dorothea's eyes despite herself, and it takes everything in her to not give into those tears right now. She's a sacrifice, in the end.
...
She's...not unlike her mother, right now, is she?]
I know you're...trying very hard. I know this wasn't--easy.
...It means so much.
[She loses the battle to keep tears out of her eyes, and they begin to drop slow but sure--but there's something so deeply sincere about the way Dorothea speaks, and she needs him to know what she can't convey.
You tore yourself from Edie's side, to be near me. You came for me, at the very end. And I am so grateful.]
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You can't die on us, Dorothea. Don't you know how invaluable you are to Her Majesty? To—
[To me?
His hands grip his cape tightly where he's pressing it into her wounds; blocking the ugly sight from view and attempting to staunch the bleeding, though the former is far more effective than the latter.
Dorothea cries; she must know she's approaching the end as well. But she can't...]
You can't die on us.
[There's always been a backup in place of Her Majesty's death. Were Lady Edelgard to die, Hubert would destroy Those That Slither in the Dark as her final order. After that... Well, surely she knew what would happen after that.
But there's never been a plan in place for what will happen if Dorothea dies. If he'd been asked about even a day ago - hell, even hours before this battle - what would he have said? A useless thing to think about right now, while she's actively dying. There has to be something, anything that can save her—]
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[Dorothea feels herself sniffling like a child, wishing she could do something, anything to save herself. It reminded her of those nights on the street, cold and alone after her mother had passed, slinking behind any alleyway that could keep her warm and crying herself softly to sleep.
Dorothea feels herself cough again, and she shakily tries to bring her hand up. Hubie's doing such a good job stemming her wound, but he's getting himself so filthy in the process. For her. For a mere girl like her. She's a soldier, sure, but he should be at Edie's side. He should be there for her.
You can't die on us.
It almost sounds like Hubie's voice is breaking, and Dorothea's breathing starts to slow. She tries so hard to keep herself going, but she still--]
I...want to see it. The world you two make. I want to see it so badly...I don't...
[Dorothea doesn't want to spend the end of her life crying like a petulant child, but she needs him to know, she has to--]
...I'm so glad I met you, Hubert.
[She does her best to be strong, because she doesn't want Hubert to remember her like that. She doesn't want to be remembered dying a sniveling coward at the end of her road.
She ends up shakily putting her hand on top of his.]
If I...had a choice...my life would be yours. All of it. Everything that isn't...hers.
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And then the weight of her words sinks in and for the first time in a very long time, Hubert feels tears prick at his eyes.
The last time had been the day Lady Edelgard was taken away - he'd sobbed, then; a desperate, lost child infuriated by the adults around him who would do little to help Lady Edelgard. This isn't anywhere near the same thing. When was the last time he cried from sorrow? He doesn't remember.
He grips her hand tightly and ducks his head; a selfish, shameful act as though to hide the truth from her. Dorothea doesn't need to go to her grave thinking of such things.]
You know I feel the same way, don't you?
[It's soft, dangerously close to fragile. A genuine question, because he's not sure she truly knows. He's not sure when things changed, or how - but he knows in this moment that this is why he's been so focused on her. Because she isn't a distraction - she's the woman he'd make the center of his whole damn world if he hadn't already pledged himself to Lady Edelgard. A fate she doesn't deserve, as she does deserve far, far more - but it is of little importance now.]
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For a brief moment, Dorothea's expression falls as she tries so damn hard to keep herself strong for him. But seeing him hide, for him to see such an act as so shameful--Dorothea wishes she hadn't been so focused on relaying that report. She could have dodged, she could have done something, she could still be here for him.
She wishes she could be here for him, and it's with the last of her strength that she pulls a reckless maneuver.]
...I couldn't be sure. I didn't...want to ask until the war was won...
I'm happy to really know...you feel the same.
[She had an inkling, sure. Those too long gazes on her, on and off the battlefield, something almost concerned. She should have said something. She should've done more than sneak glances at him whenever she could get away with it, she should've done more than doodle their names in that stupid notebook together, just to see what it might be like.
The kiss is a little bloody, and she'll feel worse later about staining his gloves. But with the last of her strength, she brings that hand that has hers so tightly gripped, and she presses a gentle kiss upon it.
And though her body goes slack, her time coming to a close--she smiles at him.]
...Thank you. Thank you, for...loving someone...like me...!
[She means it. With every last bit of energy in her, she means it.
Her vision finally goes, her face starting to relax, and she doesn't have long before the rest of her finally expires. But if little else, knowing that she was loved by such a cold, cold seeming man...or anyone at all, really, it means the world to her.]
...Don't...forget that, okay...?
[It's barely a whisper when she gets it out.]
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But it feels hollow here and now, knowing that the one life he did take is one of the most important ones to Hubert.
Dorothea presses a kiss to his gloved hand and Hubert distantly wishes he hadn't been wearing the damn things, for once. Or even better, that he'd realized all of this sooner and thrown caution to the wind and acted on it and—
There isn't any point in beating himself up about what-could-have-beens. He knows this. There isn't any time for it. Not when these are likely her final words.]
As though I could ever forget? As though I would ever want to? Dorothea—
[He starts for a moment, like he's going to do something, anything but—]
...Rest well. We'll make the world you hoped to see a reality. I swear it.
[Not just for Lady Edelgard's sake, but for Dorothea's as well.]
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With one final grip on Hubert's hands, Dorothea's last bit of strength leaves her slow but sure. She isn't suffering anymore; she finally has the answers for so many questions that had been on her mind, and if she had the opportunity to do it again...
Dorothea would do the same thing, because the rest of them will live to see the new world Edie ushers in.
Dorothea finally perishes.]
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Eventually, Bernadetta approaches him. Her touch on his shoulder is light, fearful, but it reminds him where he is; what he's fighting for. Hubert tasks Bernadetta with finding Petra and having her take Dorothea's body back to the Monastery. Eventually they'll hold a proper funeral for her, but for now there's a battle to win.
Lady Edelgard doesn't need to ask when he rejoins her, and offers her condolences afterwards. She tries to keep it off her face, but it's obvious she's just as devastated by this loss as he is.
The funeral is a beautiful affair, and Dorothea is laid to rest.
The world they proceed to build is one that will slowly heal the damage the Church and Crests have done to Fódlan, but it isn't the world Lady Edelgard or Hubert truly wanted.
How often do you think about her? Lady Edelgard asks him one day, long after Those Who Slither lie dead and the crown rests in the hand of her successor.
Every day, without fail. He replies to her knowing, wry smile.
Do you think she'd be proud of us?
I think she'd be disappointed you even have to ask.]