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It wasn't the first time she had woken up next to Dimitri, but that morning was undoubtedly different. Last night, all of two months being engaged and preparing, they had finally gotten married. It was a joyous occasion, and while she had no father to walk her down the aisle, Byleth knew Jeralt was watching from wherever he resided now.
And now, she stared at the sleeping face of her husband, knowing that despite how peaceful he may have looked, he was likely having the same nightmare as he did every night. Byleth understood well that she could not chase away every demon he faced, but she was glad that she could help him even a small amount.
Gently, she brought her fingers up to his face, letting them run down his skin. She could remember the days where he hadn't been taking care of himself so clearly; with unwashed hair and dead skin. Still, she had thought he was beautiful, but Byleth couldn't deny how nice it was to see her husband with clearer skin and the dark bags under his eyes slowly clearing up. Soon, she hoped the memory of otherwise would fade from her mind, completely replaced with a healthier picture.
She was so lost in thought she hadn't even realized when he had begun to stir; only realizing Dimitri was awake when she caught his blue eyes staring into hers.
"Beloved," he said, voice still groggy from sleep, "I missed you."
"We haven't been apart, love. I've been right here." Over the years, she'd gotten better at putting emotion into her voice and face, but this early in the morning could still be difficult for her. With Dimitri, however, it seemed to come naturally. It always had - the first person to ever truly see her smile was in fact her husband.
The new ring on her hand was proof of that, with the green gem sitting lovingly on top. The one her mother used to wear, according to her father, sat on Dimitri's hand, like it was always meant to be there. Byleth had no doubt that once upon a time, her mother wore it the same way. She was sure Jeralt would've been pleased with her choice.
"I don't see you in my dreams," Dimitri confessed, bringing up his hand to squeeze hers, which was still stroking her face. "Though, you'll forgive me if I saw I'm rather glad about that."
She didn't bother holding back a snort, though it was quiet. Even if she had been awake for some time now, her body was still lethargic from their activities the night before. Even if they hadn't stayed up so late into the night, she figured she would still likely be exhausted - their wedding was an event that had lasted the whole day; nearly every person in the Holy Kingdom that could make it coming out to see their new King's big day. Byleth wasn't sure she'd ever spoken to so many people in her life, before, but she didn't hold it against them.
"I wish I could make your nightmares stop," she told him with a sigh, pushing her face even closer to his. "But I understand it's not that simple."
Though her hand was still on his face, now covered by his own larger ones, she kept it on his good side, as he had called it the other night in jest. He didn't wear his eyepatch to bed, but the nasty scar that had formed over his eye still looked a bit too delicate to touch, in Byleth's eyes, since it had never fully healed properly. It wasn't really his fault, she knew - if anything, she were to blame, for leaving him alone for all those years; letting him succumb to darkness for so long.
They were both silent for a few minutes, and Byleth closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy the presence of her husband next to her; his hand still securely wrapped around her own. Never did she ever think this would be how she would start her days. Back in days that almost felt like another lifetime, it was just her father and herself, and that was how she had always imagined how things would be. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she didn't have a home to return to, that she didn't have people she could call her friends.
Now, she had all that and more - she had two homes, in the form of the rebuilt Garreg Mach Monastery and the castle in Fhirdiad. She had a loving husband. She had all of her former students. It was still a bit surreal, if she were being honest with herself. The last two months after the war ended she had been able to really stop and think about how different things had become for her, but she still wasn't quite used to it, yet.
"My love," Dimitri said after a bit, and Byleth blinked before meeting his eyes. "I… have a request, if that's quite alright with you."
Slowly, her lips turned upwards - a small smile, but a smile all the same. "Of course," she agreed easily.
"Can I," he began, but paused quickly after, taking a deep breath before trying again. "Can I brush your hair this morning?"
Byleth found herself blinking at him again, curious. There was nothing particularly special about her hair, in her opinion, if you ignored the fact that the Goddess had essentially gifted her powers and in the process changed her hair color from its natural green to a more mint shade. She didn't particularly take good care of it, either, not finding the time during war and not finding the time after she'd become Archbishop and now Queen of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.
"Of course," Byleth repeated, "but why?"
Despite their activities last night - despite the fact that they were now married, and had confessed their feelings to each other two months ago now - Dimitri still looked embarrassed at her question. She almost wanted to laugh. "I was thinking about it yesterday, before the ceremony," he said honestly, his eye moving away from her own. "With Flayn and Annette's talk of doing your hair for you yesterday, the thought got stuck in my mind. Forgive me."
There was nothing to forgive, but she knew he would find a way to disagree with her. With care, she removed her hand from his own, using it to push herself into an upright position. The sheets fell off of her naked body as she did, and she was mildly aggravated that they had chosen to get married in the colder months in Faerghus.
"I have to get dressed first," she told Dimitri, "but after that, please do." Now that she was sitting up, she moved her hand again to stroke his face once more, feeling how warm it was from his embarrassment.
The idea was appealing in many ways - for one, she hated doing it on her own. But mostly, it was a different kind of intimacy with the one she loved, and after a war and two months of preparation, she was happy to take anything she could get. She knew that his issues with being touched, with his trauma wouldn't just disappear overnight, nor did she expect them to. Just like her own memories of her father, she knew it was something they'd deal with for the rest of their lives. Any step was a good step, in her mind, and even if he was awkward and felt bad about asking, he had asked. That was the important part.
She could feel her husband's eye on her as she moved, walking to their new shared bureau and fishing out some comfortable clothes to wear for the morning. The Archbishop attire that she was forced to wear at Garreg Mach was put away somewhere she couldn't see at the moment, and for that Byleth was grateful. She may have been Queen now - it still felt odd, one title piling up after another - but here in the castle, she was determined to wear whatever she deemed comfortable. Pulling out her old favorite leggings and shorts, she decided on a more comfortable black top to go with instead of bothering with her chest armor.
"Want me to find you something, too?" She asked as she changed, glancing over to their shared bed where Dimitri still was.
He smiled at her, a beautiful thing that she was still so glad to be witness to, and he nodded. "Go right ahead," he said, finally reaching for his eyepatch and pulling himself out of bed as well.
It doesn't take long for the two of them to be fully dressed, Byleth now sitting on one of the chairs in their shared room while Dimitri stood behind her, brush in hand, not quite sure where to begin. It would've been even a bit comical, if she didn't empathize so deeply with her husband.
Not wanting to push him, she didn't say anything, instead sitting herself up a little more. Even if he decided that this was, in fact, a bit too much for him today, Byleth would be proud that he had tried. Last night, after their wedding was finally over and they had retired into their room, she had told him in no uncertain terms that they did not have to do a single thing, if he was uncomfortable with it. They had gone slow, taking their time with each and every decision; Byleth's patience never once running thin. It wasn't like she had any prior experience in that department, either, but there was another added layer on top of that for Dimitri.
She was so lost in thought, thinking about how proud of him she was, that she nearly jumped when she finally felt the brush start to go through her hair. Quickly, however, she relaxed her posture once again, closing her eyes. Though Dimitri was strong, ridiculously so, he had always been gentle with her. She remembered the first time they had tea together, back when she was still only his Professor and he was only her student, and he confessed to her that teacups made him nervous because they were so fragile. He called her hands fragile, often, but never seemed to be afraid of holding them anymore.
"Am I doing this correctly?" He asked after a moment, pausing in his brushing.
So far, Byleth hadn't really been paying close attention, if she were being honest; too lost in thought and too apathetic to what her hair looked like to care what kind of job he was doing. The feeling of her husband brushing her hair for her was good enough, in her mind.
"You're doing fine," she told him, smiling a little though he couldn't see it. "Please, feel free to keep going." Byleth readjusted herself in the chair, leaning into the brush a little more this time.
After a moment and a deep breath, Dimitri continued to work his way through her messy hair, slowly but surely. Paying attention this time, Byleth noticed how gently he was taking care of every knot; going over the same locks over and over again until they were silky smooth. She wasn't surprised at all, really - her husband had always been the meticulous sort, and put far too much effort into everything he did. Even standing there, brush in hand in casual clothing, she was sure he looked as serious as he would were he making decisions for his country.
Her father, though she loved him, had never bothered to brush her hair as a child; only throwing it into a ponytail or pigtails when necessary. The habit had stuck with her, but as she got older and started taking care of herself, she had decided that even that was too much effort. Truthfully, her wedding the night before was the first time since she was a child someone else had went through her hair, and it was certainly the first time that she could remember someone putting effort into how it looked. Flayn and Annette had taken their time to weave flowers into an up do for her, and thought Byleth hadn't seen the point, Dimitri's expression when Dedue had walked her down the aisle was enough of a reason to let it slide.
"I love you," Dimitri said, breaking the comfortable silence they had fallen into. "I know I say it often, but it's no less true than the last time I told you."
Byleth turned around, realizing he had finished his task, and smiled at him as wide as she knew how. "I love you, too," she replied, reaching out to grab his free hand. "Thank you, Dimitri."
Thank you was for a lot of things - for brushing her hair, for loving her, for staying by her side. She knew, looking at his smiling face and warm eye, that he understood what she had meant.
"You're always welcome, beloved." He put the brush down, offering his other hand to help her stand. "Are you hungry? I'm sure there's already breakfast waiting for us in the kitchen."
Using Dimitri's hands to pull herself up, she nodded. "Lead the way."