Who: What remains of Team Femblemtroika What: With a few hard hitting losses to the gang, they all try to deal with it. This may mean a roadtrip through Kanto. When: February Where: Starting in Olivine, ending in the vague and widely defined area of Kanto Warnings: None besides their grief (as of yet)
Grant raises his eyebrows. Dedue's answer doesn't surprise him, but that doesn't mean he likes it. On one hand, he gets what Dedue means, as far as it not being worth stopping everything every time an old injury acts up.
On the other hand, he doesn't want to encourage that enduring habit of brushing off his own discomfort.
Instead of going right back to drying dishes, Grant moves around the kitchen for a bit, retrieving a few things from cupboards - a clean hand towel, to start with. "Have you taken anything for it...? Also, can I get at the sink for a second?"
"I have not," he replies, another answer that's probably not a surprise to Grant. "Heat has been helpful in easing the pain a little."
A warm compress usually eased things well enough, at least allowing him to continue with his day mostly unimpeded. Making his life tolerable, even if it couldn't be entirely comfortable.
He moves aside at Grant's request, allowing him access to the sink again.
He nods, turning on the hot water to soak the towel through before wringing it out in turn. Speaking of warm compresses! "Good, yeah."
Grant rolls the towel up and sets it in the microwave, then goes to grab a bottle of pills and a glass of water while it heats. "I'm glad to hear that, at least. Still, might as well treat it on the bad days... speaking of which. One of these pills should help. I... usually end up taking one or two when my neck or shoulder act up."
For now, warm compresses and over-the-counter medications may be enough to keep the pain at bay. In their own world, he might have been able to get access to vulneraries, and those would help with the swelling to some degree. He's under no illusions, though, that it would get worse with age, should he manage to live long enough. That there may be a time where his hands are too stiff and painful to hold an embroidery needle or cut with a knife.
Such are the prices that he pays, and would pay again if given the choice.
He takes the pill and water when it's offered. He'd had such things before, when he'd been stricken with fever after the course of vaccinations. It had seemed to reduce his symptoms at the time, so it stands to reason that it may be useful here as well.
"I forget, at times, that physicians in this place have better treatments for such things than those in Fódlan do. There is little that could be done that would have any significant efficacy, except perhaps for laudanum tincture."
There is just... no hiding the tinge of pain that crosses Grant's face at that. "Laudanum... yeah, uh. That's something I'm real glad for in this place and my world, I dunno what I'd do without ibuprofen. ...Except, you know, suffer, obviously."
The microwave dings, and Grant passes the warmed towel to Dedue. "Here - I can wash and dry the rest."
Y'know, like Dedue did, just grit your teeth and bear it, as is only right and proper.
He accepts the warm compress from Grant after the microwave has finished and thanks him for it, and wraps it around the sore parts of his hand. The wet heat soothes the tenderness in his joints, at least for the moment, providing some small relief before the medication kicks in.
"You do not have to," he says. "I will be fine to continue in a few minutes. As I am the one who dirtied the kitchen, I should be the one who cleans it."
Grant hums doubtfully, already picking up another plate to scrub. "That's one way of looking at it - but, the way I see it, you were the one who put the work in to cook. And, even if that weren't the case, there's nothing wrong with accepting or asking for help if you're having trouble or in pain.
"I know you didn't get the opportunity for that so much in Fodlan," he adds, quickly, "But it's an option here. And often a better one than the alternative."
“There are many things that I did not have the opportunity for in Fodlan.”
An agreement, a concession, perhaps a little bit of both.
Dedue mulls, while Grant continues the washing up. There are many things in his mind that will never be voiced; thoughts that will never be put to words, not even to those he is closest to. Stoicism, if one were to call it by prettier, nobler terms. The only way he has ever known to be, is a more honest one.
“Silence perhaps suits me better.”
Or if not better, comes easier, which may be much the same thing.
Ah. More thoughts into words. The cloth that Dedue had wrapped around his hands is becoming cool, and the moments that he takes to unwrap it and set it aside are ones that he can also use to collect his thoughts.
“It comes naturally to me.”
In thoughts that even he rarely entertains, there has been the passing consideration that his stern and stoic demeanor may not be entirely nature— that there may be some element of nurture to it, fostered out of both need and purpose. But even if that is so, there’s little to be done about it, and there’s little gain in rumination over the immutable.
“I find that words are often… inadequate.” There is a hint of something on his face that may have been a rueful smile, there and gone again. “I am not a master of them. With particularly difficult matters, I suppose I choose my battles judiciously.”
"D'you want that reheated?" Maybe it'll have been enough for now, but... worth checking. Not that he's particularly confident Dedue will tell him if he is still in pain. "Another thirty seconds in the microwave should do it."
He listens quietly, though, as Dedue explains, and... it's sort of a familiar explanation, in some ways. Grant's situation isn't fully the same, of course, being naturally inclined as he is toward... well, talking at length about whatever topic has grabbed his attention. But he certainly understands the feeling that speaking just... doesn't help in a lot of cases. That he can't pick his words correctly, that it's best just not to risk it much of the time.
"...I kind of get that, yeah. It doesn't seem worth the risk of speaking up in tense situations, right?"
His hands are still sore, but he should give the medication a chance to do its work as well, then re-evaluate if further intervention is necessary.
Grant is, though, a good listener, and that makes him among the easier of Dedue's companions to speak to, even with his own reticence. And it helps that there are fewer conversational pit-traps for him to unwittingly stumble into when speaking with him.
"That is one reason," he says. "My presence has at times been inflammatory of its own right. If I am to speak, than my words must either be worth the trouble, or not add to it."
Judicious. And even though his opinions may not have the same effect here as it would in Fodlan, it's a tough habit to break.
"There are others." He looks at his own hands; he doesn't think specifically about what made them as they are, but it will never entirely be a thing that he doesn't think of when he sees them. "Ones more relevant to my current state."
"Dimitri has been doing well here. His moods are more stable, he is not so prone to fits of ill temper. He has found happiness and enjoyment in activities that he would have never before allowed himself to consider."
This may seem like a bit of a non-sequitur, but it is a relevant thing, as Dimitri's happiness so often is to Dedue's actions.
"Were I to speak to him of these pains that I have..." he shakes his head, as though dismissing the very notion of it. "He would believe himself responsible for it. I will not be the whip by which he flagellates himself."
"...Yeah, that... may be a fair concern." He can see that much even before asking: "Why would he think he's responsible? Aside from, just... the standard Dimitri reasons."
"Dimitri may have told some of this to you before, though I doubt if he speaks often of it."
For reasons that will very soon be obvious. It takes a certain kind of mood to decide to casually bring up that time you were imprisoned in normal conversation.
"Shortly after our return to Fhirdiad from Garreg Mach, the Lord Regent-- Dimitri's uncle-- was murdered. Dimitri was accused of the crime and was to be imprisoned until his execution. I could not allow such a thing to come to pass, and broke into the dungeons to retrieve him by whatever means necessary."
You know, as one does.
"I was able to secure his escape, but I was captured in the process. The true perpetrator of the Lord Regent's death was Cornelia, his court mage, and she was... wroth that Dimitri had escaped her clutches. She believed that since I had freed him, I would know where he had gone."
It's not an unreasonable assumption, and it was true that Dedue had plans for where to take Dimitri after their escape-- to Fraldarius, as he had no doubts that Rodrigue would do everything in his power to shield the prince from harm. He had no way of accounting for what path Dimitri would take when feral and half-mad with grief, though.
"I do not know the exact amount of time that I remained in the dungeons in Dimitri's stead, but it was not insignificant. They wished for me to speak, and I did not. I bear a great many scars from their efforts. I believe they intended to bring me to the block as well, once it was clear they had no use for me, but I was rescued by my kin before they could put me to the axe. I do not remember much from this time, as my injuries were severe and many of my wounds had badly soured. It took years for me to fully recover from the extent of it."
He speaks of it evenly, calmly, as though he is recalling something from a history text rather than personal experience.
"My capture was not Dimitri's fault. It was my choice to enter the dungeons, and I was fully aware of the potential consequences of my actions. I do not blame him, nor would I wish for him to blame himself for the end results of what I have done."
Listening to Dedue explaining, step by step, what he means, why Dimitri may blame himself for Dedue's injuries... slowly, Grant stops scrubbing in favor of just watching Dedue, brows furrowed in concern and sympathy. It's... it's a lot. It's a lot that he doesn't at all regret asking about, but it's still a lot.
"I... I see." He suspects there's not much point to offering any kind of condolences; it's long past, and Dedue obviously doesn't regret it, in the end. "...And I see why you'd be worried about Dimitri blaming himself. Like you said, it's obviously not his fault, but... yeah, I wouldn't put it past him. Even if I can't imagine he'd want you keeping it from him, either."
Hell, Grant suspects he'd be inclined to hold himself responsible to some degree if someone got hurt so badly saving him, and his self-worth problems are nowhere near as bad as Dimitri's.
"I do not believe that he is entirely unaware," he says. "Dimitri has been injured himself, and he reads my face better than most. He can likely infer that I am sometimes in pain. But I do not wish to burden him."
Is it entirely healthy, the way that Dedue will continually prioritize Dimitri's wellbeing over his own? Probably not, but that's the flavor of this particular brand of codependency.
"And I apologize if this topic has become uncomfortable for you. I understand that this story is not a pleasant one."
And worse, perhaps, because of the fact that Grant knows him. It's one thing to hear of something like this and think it terrible, another to be aware that it happened to someone you're fond of.
Grant frowns a little bit at that, turning Dedue's words over in his head. Speaking of choosing words carefully... "I see your concerns, for sure. But... you know he wouldn't see you being open about your pain as a burden, right? If he can likely tell, anyway, he might actually feel better with you confiding in him."
That isn't the core of the problem here, of course - but he feels it's part of it, and... he suspects there's a way to go before he or anyone else can start effectively addressing The Rest. For now, the best he's got is to try and lead into the idea that... maybe Dedue's wellbeing can coexist with Dimitri's, actually.
He shakes his head. "No-- it's alright, I asked. I'm just glad you felt you could tell me."
“And he may still burden himself with guilt, regardless of my reassurance.”
What is he to do, when Dimitri burdens himself with undeserved guilt? Dedue could tell him that it isn’t his fault until he’s blue in the face, and it would likely do little to alleviate him. And Felix isn’t even here anymore to tell Dimitri that he’s being foolish— Dedue did not expect that this would be the thing that he misses about him.
Grant has taken his unpleasant story quite well, though, with neither pity nor judgment. Dedue appreciates it; he doesn’t regret what he did, and should the choice present itself to him again, he would do the same.
“Even so, thank you for listening to me. I do not often speak of such things.”
Grant sighs, staring down into the sink. God, he wishes there were a straightforward solution here - and he's sure Dedue feels much the same.
"Oh, no problem - I think it's good to get this stuff out there sometimes, y'know? Not being able to talk about shit that's really impacted you can get... rough."
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victory_road2023-02-10 06:43 pm
no subject
On the other hand, he doesn't want to encourage that enduring habit of brushing off his own discomfort.
Instead of going right back to drying dishes, Grant moves around the kitchen for a bit, retrieving a few things from cupboards - a clean hand towel, to start with. "Have you taken anything for it...? Also, can I get at the sink for a second?"
no subject
A warm compress usually eased things well enough, at least allowing him to continue with his day mostly unimpeded. Making his life tolerable, even if it couldn't be entirely comfortable.
He moves aside at Grant's request, allowing him access to the sink again.
"It is usually not so bothersome."
no subject
Grant rolls the towel up and sets it in the microwave, then goes to grab a bottle of pills and a glass of water while it heats. "I'm glad to hear that, at least. Still, might as well treat it on the bad days... speaking of which. One of these pills should help. I... usually end up taking one or two when my neck or shoulder act up."
no subject
For now, warm compresses and over-the-counter medications may be enough to keep the pain at bay. In their own world, he might have been able to get access to vulneraries, and those would help with the swelling to some degree. He's under no illusions, though, that it would get worse with age, should he manage to live long enough. That there may be a time where his hands are too stiff and painful to hold an embroidery needle or cut with a knife.
Such are the prices that he pays, and would pay again if given the choice.
He takes the pill and water when it's offered. He'd had such things before, when he'd been stricken with fever after the course of vaccinations. It had seemed to reduce his symptoms at the time, so it stands to reason that it may be useful here as well.
"I forget, at times, that physicians in this place have better treatments for such things than those in Fódlan do. There is little that could be done that would have any significant efficacy, except perhaps for laudanum tincture."
no subject
The microwave dings, and Grant passes the warmed towel to Dedue. "Here - I can wash and dry the rest."
no subject
Y'know, like Dedue did, just grit your teeth and bear it, as is only right and proper.
He accepts the warm compress from Grant after the microwave has finished and thanks him for it, and wraps it around the sore parts of his hand. The wet heat soothes the tenderness in his joints, at least for the moment, providing some small relief before the medication kicks in.
"You do not have to," he says. "I will be fine to continue in a few minutes. As I am the one who dirtied the kitchen, I should be the one who cleans it."
no subject
"I know you didn't get the opportunity for that so much in Fodlan," he adds, quickly, "But it's an option here. And often a better one than the alternative."
no subject
An agreement, a concession, perhaps a little bit of both.
Dedue mulls, while Grant continues the washing up. There are many things in his mind that will never be voiced; thoughts that will never be put to words, not even to those he is closest to. Stoicism, if one were to call it by prettier, nobler terms. The only way he has ever known to be, is a more honest one.
“Silence perhaps suits me better.”
Or if not better, comes easier, which may be much the same thing.
no subject
He does, however, glance over at Dedue at that second part. "Suits you better, in what way?"
no subject
“It comes naturally to me.”
In thoughts that even he rarely entertains, there has been the passing consideration that his stern and stoic demeanor may not be entirely nature— that there may be some element of nurture to it, fostered out of both need and purpose. But even if that is so, there’s little to be done about it, and there’s little gain in rumination over the immutable.
“I find that words are often… inadequate.” There is a hint of something on his face that may have been a rueful smile, there and gone again. “I am not a master of them. With particularly difficult matters, I suppose I choose my battles judiciously.”
no subject
He listens quietly, though, as Dedue explains, and... it's sort of a familiar explanation, in some ways. Grant's situation isn't fully the same, of course, being naturally inclined as he is toward... well, talking at length about whatever topic has grabbed his attention. But he certainly understands the feeling that speaking just... doesn't help in a lot of cases. That he can't pick his words correctly, that it's best just not to risk it much of the time.
"...I kind of get that, yeah. It doesn't seem worth the risk of speaking up in tense situations, right?"
no subject
His hands are still sore, but he should give the medication a chance to do its work as well, then re-evaluate if further intervention is necessary.
Grant is, though, a good listener, and that makes him among the easier of Dedue's companions to speak to, even with his own reticence. And it helps that there are fewer conversational pit-traps for him to unwittingly stumble into when speaking with him.
"That is one reason," he says. "My presence has at times been inflammatory of its own right. If I am to speak, than my words must either be worth the trouble, or not add to it."
Judicious. And even though his opinions may not have the same effect here as it would in Fodlan, it's a tough habit to break.
"There are others." He looks at his own hands; he doesn't think specifically about what made them as they are, but it will never entirely be a thing that he doesn't think of when he sees them. "Ones more relevant to my current state."
no subject
Another nod. Something else he understands. "All the harder to pick the right words if people already have a problem with you. Really sucks."
He glances up again at that. Whatever that means, it sounds, uh... pretty bad. "...Relevant, how? If it's something you're willing to talk about."
no subject
This may seem like a bit of a non-sequitur, but it is a relevant thing, as Dimitri's happiness so often is to Dedue's actions.
"Were I to speak to him of these pains that I have..." he shakes his head, as though dismissing the very notion of it. "He would believe himself responsible for it. I will not be the whip by which he flagellates himself."
no subject
no subject
For reasons that will very soon be obvious. It takes a certain kind of mood to decide to casually bring up that time you were imprisoned in normal conversation.
"Shortly after our return to Fhirdiad from Garreg Mach, the Lord Regent-- Dimitri's uncle-- was murdered. Dimitri was accused of the crime and was to be imprisoned until his execution. I could not allow such a thing to come to pass, and broke into the dungeons to retrieve him by whatever means necessary."
You know, as one does.
"I was able to secure his escape, but I was captured in the process. The true perpetrator of the Lord Regent's death was Cornelia, his court mage, and she was... wroth that Dimitri had escaped her clutches. She believed that since I had freed him, I would know where he had gone."
It's not an unreasonable assumption, and it was true that Dedue had plans for where to take Dimitri after their escape-- to Fraldarius, as he had no doubts that Rodrigue would do everything in his power to shield the prince from harm. He had no way of accounting for what path Dimitri would take when feral and half-mad with grief, though.
"I do not know the exact amount of time that I remained in the dungeons in Dimitri's stead, but it was not insignificant. They wished for me to speak, and I did not. I bear a great many scars from their efforts. I believe they intended to bring me to the block as well, once it was clear they had no use for me, but I was rescued by my kin before they could put me to the axe. I do not remember much from this time, as my injuries were severe and many of my wounds had badly soured. It took years for me to fully recover from the extent of it."
He speaks of it evenly, calmly, as though he is recalling something from a history text rather than personal experience.
"My capture was not Dimitri's fault. It was my choice to enter the dungeons, and I was fully aware of the potential consequences of my actions. I do not blame him, nor would I wish for him to blame himself for the end results of what I have done."
no subject
"I... I see." He suspects there's not much point to offering any kind of condolences; it's long past, and Dedue obviously doesn't regret it, in the end. "...And I see why you'd be worried about Dimitri blaming himself. Like you said, it's obviously not his fault, but... yeah, I wouldn't put it past him. Even if I can't imagine he'd want you keeping it from him, either."
Hell, Grant suspects he'd be inclined to hold himself responsible to some degree if someone got hurt so badly saving him, and his self-worth problems are nowhere near as bad as Dimitri's.
no subject
Is it entirely healthy, the way that Dedue will continually prioritize Dimitri's wellbeing over his own? Probably not, but that's the flavor of this particular brand of codependency.
"And I apologize if this topic has become uncomfortable for you. I understand that this story is not a pleasant one."
And worse, perhaps, because of the fact that Grant knows him. It's one thing to hear of something like this and think it terrible, another to be aware that it happened to someone you're fond of.
no subject
That isn't the core of the problem here, of course - but he feels it's part of it, and... he suspects there's a way to go before he or anyone else can start effectively addressing The Rest. For now, the best he's got is to try and lead into the idea that... maybe Dedue's wellbeing can coexist with Dimitri's, actually.
He shakes his head. "No-- it's alright, I asked. I'm just glad you felt you could tell me."
no subject
What is he to do, when Dimitri burdens himself with undeserved guilt? Dedue could tell him that it isn’t his fault until he’s blue in the face, and it would likely do little to alleviate him. And Felix isn’t even here anymore to tell Dimitri that he’s being foolish— Dedue did not expect that this would be the thing that he misses about him.
Grant has taken his unpleasant story quite well, though, with neither pity nor judgment. Dedue appreciates it; he doesn’t regret what he did, and should the choice present itself to him again, he would do the same.
“Even so, thank you for listening to me. I do not often speak of such things.”
no subject
Grant sighs, staring down into the sink. God, he wishes there were a straightforward solution here - and he's sure Dedue feels much the same.
"Oh, no problem - I think it's good to get this stuff out there sometimes, y'know? Not being able to talk about shit that's really impacted you can get... rough."