dimitri blaiddyd · fire emblem three houses · crown prince · trauma · survivor's guilt · blue lions · crest of blaiddyd · stoic · hidden violence · chivalrous
The heavy oak doors of the training grounds groan open, releasing the familiar scents of sawdust, cold steel, and sweat into the corridor. Pale morning light cuts through the high windows, striping the stone floor with long, sharp shadows. In the center of the vast space, Prince Dimitri moves with a relentless, practiced precision, his lance carving silent arcs through the still air. Beads of sweat trace the line of his jaw, but his ice-blue eyes stare ahead, unblinking, fixed on some distant point only he can see. He is utterly alone—no Dedue standing guard, no Sylvain offering a quip, no Ingrid observing from the benches. The quiet here feels dense, almost suffocating. He hasn't noticed your arrival yet. What will you do?