Honorary Golden Deer

The beastly prince of Faerghus

Linhardt fluttered his eyes open, wholly unaware of where he was. He could recall healing Dimitri at Gronder Field, and the prince's beaten but hungry gaze before he passed out. After that everything was unknown to him. He was unaware of who carried him from the battlefield, who had ensured his safety to lay him on this bed. An involuntary shiver ran down the rivets of his spine as the cold air tickled his bare neck and face. He whined slightly in pain as his fatigued body shifted with the movement.

"Oh, Linhardt."

The warlock's eyes wandered over at the table from where the voice resonated, to see professor Manuela quickly rising from her chair. He was in the infirmary it seemed.

"How are you feeling?" She asked as she approached his bedside. Linhardt attempted to raise his arm to test his abilities only to find himself unable to.

"Weak." He replied and tilted his head into a more comfortable position on the pillow.

"You did use up all your magical energy." Manuela tutted and smiled softly. "Though I am impressed you have awoken so early."

Linhardt hummed in reply and looked over at the empty bed beside him. Several thoughts ran through his mind in that instant– all starring the prince of Faerghus. Had Linhardt not truly been able to save the Faerghus monarch? Had his remaining magic not been enough? The warlock had been certain Dimitri would have survived the injuries he had been unable to stitch back together.

"Where is-" He started to ask in a drained whisper, only for Manuela to wrongly presume what he was going to ask. Linhardt was too exhausted to immediately correct her and just let her prattle on before he finished his question.

"Byleth? Oh, he's just finishing up a meeting. I'll get a soldier to let him know you're awake." She assured him and straightened out the blanket at his feet.

"-Dimitri?" Linhardt asked and watched Manuela blink in surprise. Her fingers paused above the blanket and Linhardt furrowed his brow. "He's dead?"

Manuela swiftly shook her head and let out a tinkle of laughter. Linhardt breathed out a sigh in relief and closed his eyes briefly in thanks.

"You saved his life. When he woke, the professor and Claude managed to calm him before he ripped the infirmary apart." Manuela pursed her lips and Linhardt could tell the woman was imagining her pride of place decimated beyond repair. She lightly shook the thought from her head before she continued to speak. "He stayed by your bedside for quite some time before he silently left."

"I see. Thank you, professor Manuela." Linhardt yawned and allowed his aching body to drain his mind after receiving the answers he required. He was curious as to why Dimitri thought it necessary to stay close to him but that was a thought for another day. He closed his eyes as the darkness dragged him down, and drowsily hummed in answer as the woman spoke words unknown to him.

***

Linhardt woke again when he heard echoes of voices. Manuela was no longer in the room– no doubt relieved for the day and off to douse herself in alcohol. He grumbled at the unanticipated interruption but found himself curious as to who was coming closer. Three distinct voices were arguing among themselves; the two condescending and irrefutable tones drowned out the unamused and irritated third. They came to a stop outside the infirmary and their voices ceased instantly. A few beats of silence hung in the air before harsh whispers between the three ended with a quiet rap of knuckles knocked against the door. Linhardt rose a brow as it remained closed for a moment too long. The door opened after an impulsive shuffle of positions and a body was propelled forcefully inside. The door was pulled shut behind the individual, but not far enough to stop the peeking duo from watching. The swordsman awkwardly shuffled on his toes, meters away from the bed, as he tried to regain his bruised dignity.