But the immediate look of delight that crosses his face is only barely wrangled into submission.
"And you were thinking of giving one a try, then? You could use any of the bedrooms upstairs if you wanted to get changed- my costume for later is a surprise, of course, or else I'd join you."
Radiating warm acceptance and non-judgement as much as he physically can.
The flash of delight softens the edge of Dimitri's nerves. Ossie wouldn't, but on some level he'd still expected ... he's not sure. A reminder, sharp or gentle, that this isn't for him -- that he's not allowed; that pretty, silly things are forbidden to him; that he's ever and always the guard dog at the door, and never one of the dancers inside.
He's not sure how to face the idea that he could be.
"Well -- if I'm to attend, I should get into the spirit of things, shouldn't I?" he says, now very red. He's not ready to go change immediately. He needs to work up to it. "Though I'm still not really sure I understand."
He sets the box down to pick up a jam biscuit, more to fidget than because he's actually hungry, and visibly starts when he reaches the jam center.
"Right- of course, please allow me to try and do a better job of explaining this time around, wot?"
Ossie clears his throat, placing his hands neatly in his lap.
"Earth, generally, broadly, has... some hangups about men and women, shall we say. There's some rather narrow views of what a man or a woman... is. How one acts, how one dresses. Now- an awful lot of people don't especially adhere to those narrow categories very well, and there's a robust culture of saying 'er, beg pardon, but I've brought my own from home and I shouldn't like to partake in yours'. Some people do this by pointing out how silly the whole institution is, but others... well, they listen to their hearts and their desires, and they act how they want to. In whatever way makes them happy. Some of us, that means living as a gender that's different to the one they were born as. Others pick and choose what parts they'd like to keep and toss out the rest, or pick up some parts that please them. This could be wearing dresses, for instance, or make-up, or... well, to be frank, fashion is the easiest part of it for me to understand, I never felt I'd really grasped the rest of the issue, wot? My eyes sort of glazed over whenever people back home explained the rest of it."
He moves his hands to lace loosely on his chest.
"I myself have often felt more like... do you have flowers that imitate insects in your world? We've a species of orchid that resembles a bee back home. I often feel that way about myself and other men. Love them, adore them, I drink in their masculinity, but I only barely resemble them myself."
Dimitri can relate to the 'eyes glazing over' part. He thinks he's beginning to understand, though.
"Fascinating -- if Fódlan has any flowers like that, I'm not aware of them. The greenhouse at the monastery includes an orchid collection, though, so it's possible those are among them." Because this is definitely the most important part of the conversation.
"I think I understand you, though. Fódlan is much the same. Especially if you're born into status, there's ... an image one's expected to uphold. A future laid out by your parents and your parents' parents. Diverging from that path ... it isn't easy."
Ossie chortles, "oh yes, the expectations of sprogs and inheritance and all such. Marrying well. Much the same in my world as it is in yours. My older sister was fortunate enough to have male children- my father's estate was going directly to them when I died and they were old enough- but I saw firsthand what marrying well did to her. Brilliant, brilliant woman. A scientific wit to contend with any of them, crushed into social occasions and village faires."
A small sigh.
"I was just never much good at the whole... game of it, wot. Stoicism, grit, whatnot. Couldn't dance the steps, so to speak. I suppose I was just lucky that my father was tolerant of it. Didn't try and toughen me up. Then again, he always was a sensible man, and he didn't often embark on doomed endeavours."
Dimitri's brief moment of humor subsides. "I'm sorry for your sister. A dear friend of mine wants nothing more than to be a knight -- but she bears her family's Crest, and the house is poor, and so ... thus far she's refused any marriage proposals, but I don't know how long she'll be able."
If only Glenn had lived. So many things would be better if Glenn had lived.
"I tried, okay? Hard when you've got a sword through your guts."
Dimitri's head dips. " ... I have no siblings. My father -- he did his best with me, but -- " He halts, wrenches himself away from what he might have said. "I've been told I take after my mother," he says instead, "in speech and demeanor. I don't know if I can believe it, but ... I'd like to think there's truth to it."
Edited (not saying that bit just yet) Date: 2023-03-04 10:45 pm (UTC)
"Your mother must have been a remarkable woman, then," Ossie offers mildly, "and I'm sure you do her proud. It's not a bad thing to take after ones mother- I do myself, so I'm told. I have-"
A pause, like running your tongue over a gap where a tooth used to be.
"She was. I've met few people like her." Ossie's one of them. So unlike Patricia's quiet melancholy in so many ways, yet somehow he evokes a similar feeling in Dimitri.
Oh, but Dimitri knows that pause all too well. And that repetition, less smooth than Ossie usually is, the trace of words thought better of at the last moment. Dimitri's not about to pry, though, and Ossie spares him a fumbling apology.
"More tea would be nice, thank you," he answers. He cradles the freshly-warmed cup delicately, watching the deep amber shimmer of light onto the ceramic. Formless thoughts circle without settling.
That's what he appreciates about the lad. Dimitri knows when to leave well enough alone. Ossie pours himself a fresh cup and settles back in on the couch, grateful for the chance to reset his composure.
"I expect your Faerghus didn't have any such traditions or practices of gender defiance, wot? From what you've said, at least, it all sounds so very... er, macho. Martial, wot."
'Macho', that's going on Dimitri's vocabulary list.
"If we do, I don't know about it. Though I wouldn't. My upbringing was ... sheltered." Even his childhood friends weren't exactly his peers, and after his father died he lost what few chances at privacy or freedom he'd had. "We have a storied tradition of lady knights -- one the friend I mentioned aspires to -- but for men ... "
He's reluctant to bring this part of his life here. He doesn't like to join the two, when this is one of the only places he feels free of it. When Ossie is one of the few people Dimitri can truly believe doesn't see him as a killer.
" ... A man aspires to be knightly," he says slowly, spooling out thoughts that grate against the bars in his mind. "A knight is honorable. Loyal. Dutiful. A woman who aspires to knighthood pursues something noble. But a man who refuses it is ... " He trails off, uncertain how the sentence should end, then looks up at Ossie for understanding.
Dimitri nods, silent. For a moment his melancholy breaks lighter, and he huffs. "As if being womanly is anything to be ashamed of. I'd be honored to be compared to any of the women in my life."
He sobers; takes another sip of his tea, and rests one hand on his knee so his anxiously-tapping fingers won't damage the cup. He doesn't want Ossie to think that he thinks --
"It isn't even -- " He's passed 'grating'; this is yanking twine through gear-teeth -- "A knight's honor is in battle. His duty to his lord is to kill and die without thought or question. That -- chivalry," the word curdles in his mouth, "has seen innocents slaughtered by the thousands, and a nation swear that killing was right and just. It's taken people I love, and the ones I have left aspire to emulate their deaths -- would claim that grief and horror disparage their sacrifice. It's not ... it isn't ... "
His shoulders sink. He sets the teacup down; his hands tangle together, warped knuckles interlocked, thumb pressed into a scar across his palm.
" ... I told you once the world could use more cowards. That's what I meant."
Ossie stands, rounding the coffee table unhurriedly. He rests a warm hand on the back of Dimitri's neck, right at the nape.
"It's... difficult. To look upon the fruits of your life and see the seeds of wickedness they grew from. To know your place in that great monstrous mechanism. But it is all you know, all anyone around you knows, and to struggle against it would be to refute something as base to life as the sun rising and setting."
He doesn't move, won't move until Dimitri does, unless Dimitri wants him to.
"I'm glad that you're encouraging Dedue to participate in this. And I hope you can extend that to yourself, as well, if that's what you want. I would certainly like you to do something nice for yourself."
Dimitri loved his father. He admired his strength, and wanted to emulate it. He wanted his father's praise, his approval. It's not that he didn't want Patricia's approval -- or Ossie's -- but it's so much less conditional. He could be weak, and afraid, and lost with his stepmother in a way he never could with his father. He can be weak, and afraid, and lost with Ossie.
Still, he hesitates again, afraid of stepping out of line. He's being ridiculous. Compared to Ossie he's a paragon of manhood. He's a killer, obvious when he tangles his battered fingers on his lap. A knight, a prince, a future king.
... but he's more of a monster than any of those things.
"My father was -- exemplary, in many ways. Everyone tells me I how much I resemble him. They -- I must live up to his example. But I ... I'm not. They have no idea how much I can't. I'll never ... " His voice strangles itself to a whisper. "I don't know if I want to."
"You are your own person," Ossie soothes, "you needn't be anyone but that, whoever that is. In my home, certainly, at least."
He rests his hand on Dimitri's shoulder, trying to be a comforting weight and not simply something else he must bear.
"I certainly expect nothing more of you than your manners and excellent company. And you've exceeded my expectations on that. I hold no pretenses about what and who you ought to be."
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2023-03-02 05:53 am (UTC)Ossie's trying to be normal about this.
But the immediate look of delight that crosses his face is only barely wrangled into submission.
"And you were thinking of giving one a try, then? You could use any of the bedrooms upstairs if you wanted to get changed- my costume for later is a surprise, of course, or else I'd join you."
Radiating warm acceptance and non-judgement as much as he physically can.
no subject
Date: 2023-03-02 09:54 am (UTC)He's not sure how to face the idea that he could be.
"Well -- if I'm to attend, I should get into the spirit of things, shouldn't I?" he says, now very red. He's not ready to go change immediately. He needs to work up to it. "Though I'm still not really sure I understand."
He sets the box down to pick up a jam biscuit, more to fidget than because he's actually hungry, and visibly starts when he reaches the jam center.
no subject
Date: 2023-03-04 03:42 am (UTC)Ossie clears his throat, placing his hands neatly in his lap.
"Earth, generally, broadly, has... some hangups about men and women, shall we say. There's some rather narrow views of what a man or a woman... is. How one acts, how one dresses. Now- an awful lot of people don't especially adhere to those narrow categories very well, and there's a robust culture of saying 'er, beg pardon, but I've brought my own from home and I shouldn't like to partake in yours'. Some people do this by pointing out how silly the whole institution is, but others... well, they listen to their hearts and their desires, and they act how they want to. In whatever way makes them happy. Some of us, that means living as a gender that's different to the one they were born as. Others pick and choose what parts they'd like to keep and toss out the rest, or pick up some parts that please them. This could be wearing dresses, for instance, or make-up, or... well, to be frank, fashion is the easiest part of it for me to understand, I never felt I'd really grasped the rest of the issue, wot? My eyes sort of glazed over whenever people back home explained the rest of it."
He moves his hands to lace loosely on his chest.
"I myself have often felt more like... do you have flowers that imitate insects in your world? We've a species of orchid that resembles a bee back home. I often feel that way about myself and other men. Love them, adore them, I drink in their masculinity, but I only barely resemble them myself."
no subject
Date: 2023-03-04 10:20 am (UTC)"Fascinating -- if Fódlan has any flowers like that, I'm not aware of them. The greenhouse at the monastery includes an orchid collection, though, so it's possible those are among them." Because this is definitely the most important part of the conversation.
"I think I understand you, though. Fódlan is much the same. Especially if you're born into status, there's ... an image one's expected to uphold. A future laid out by your parents and your parents' parents. Diverging from that path ... it isn't easy."
no subject
Date: 2023-03-04 10:38 am (UTC)A small sigh.
"I was just never much good at the whole... game of it, wot. Stoicism, grit, whatnot. Couldn't dance the steps, so to speak. I suppose I was just lucky that my father was tolerant of it. Didn't try and toughen me up. Then again, he always was a sensible man, and he didn't often embark on doomed endeavours."
no subject
Date: 2023-03-04 07:20 pm (UTC)Dimitri's brief moment of humor subsides. "I'm sorry for your sister. A dear friend of mine wants nothing more than to be a knight -- but she bears her family's Crest, and the house is poor, and so ... thus far she's refused any marriage proposals, but I don't know how long she'll be able."
If only Glenn had lived. So many things would be better if Glenn had lived.
"I tried, okay? Hard when you've got a sword through your guts."
Dimitri's head dips. " ... I have no siblings. My father -- he did his best with me, but -- " He halts, wrenches himself away from what he might have said. "I've been told I take after my mother," he says instead, "in speech and demeanor. I don't know if I can believe it, but ... I'd like to think there's truth to it."
no subject
Date: 2023-03-08 06:10 am (UTC)A pause, like running your tongue over a gap where a tooth used to be.
"-been told that a lot. More tea?"
no subject
Date: 2023-03-09 02:44 am (UTC)Oh, but Dimitri knows that pause all too well. And that repetition, less smooth than Ossie usually is, the trace of words thought better of at the last moment. Dimitri's not about to pry, though, and Ossie spares him a fumbling apology.
"More tea would be nice, thank you," he answers. He cradles the freshly-warmed cup delicately, watching the deep amber shimmer of light onto the ceramic. Formless thoughts circle without settling.
no subject
Date: 2023-03-16 05:36 am (UTC)"I expect your Faerghus didn't have any such traditions or practices of gender defiance, wot? From what you've said, at least, it all sounds so very... er, macho. Martial, wot."
no subject
Date: 2023-03-19 11:24 pm (UTC)"If we do, I don't know about it. Though I wouldn't. My upbringing was ... sheltered." Even his childhood friends weren't exactly his peers, and after his father died he lost what few chances at privacy or freedom he'd had. "We have a storied tradition of lady knights -- one the friend I mentioned aspires to -- but for men ... "
He's reluctant to bring this part of his life here. He doesn't like to join the two, when this is one of the only places he feels free of it. When Ossie is one of the few people Dimitri can truly believe doesn't see him as a killer.
" ... A man aspires to be knightly," he says slowly, spooling out thoughts that grate against the bars in his mind. "A knight is honorable. Loyal. Dutiful. A woman who aspires to knighthood pursues something noble. But a man who refuses it is ... " He trails off, uncertain how the sentence should end, then looks up at Ossie for understanding.
no subject
Date: 2023-03-20 01:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-03-25 09:48 am (UTC)He sobers; takes another sip of his tea, and rests one hand on his knee so his anxiously-tapping fingers won't damage the cup. He doesn't want Ossie to think that he thinks --
"It isn't even -- " He's passed 'grating'; this is yanking twine through gear-teeth -- "A knight's honor is in battle. His duty to his lord is to kill and die without thought or question. That -- chivalry," the word curdles in his mouth, "has seen innocents slaughtered by the thousands, and a nation swear that killing was right and just. It's taken people I love, and the ones I have left aspire to emulate their deaths -- would claim that grief and horror disparage their sacrifice. It's not ... it isn't ... "
His shoulders sink. He sets the teacup down; his hands tangle together, warped knuckles interlocked, thumb pressed into a scar across his palm.
" ... I told you once the world could use more cowards. That's what I meant."
no subject
Date: 2023-03-25 10:18 am (UTC)"It's... difficult. To look upon the fruits of your life and see the seeds of wickedness they grew from. To know your place in that great monstrous mechanism. But it is all you know, all anyone around you knows, and to struggle against it would be to refute something as base to life as the sun rising and setting."
He doesn't move, won't move until Dimitri does, unless Dimitri wants him to.
"I'm glad that you're encouraging Dedue to participate in this. And I hope you can extend that to yourself, as well, if that's what you want. I would certainly like you to do something nice for yourself."
no subject
Date: 2023-03-31 11:42 am (UTC)Here's how Ossie reminds him of Patricia:
Dimitri loved his father. He admired his strength, and wanted to emulate it. He wanted his father's praise, his approval. It's not that he didn't want Patricia's approval -- or Ossie's -- but it's so much less conditional. He could be weak, and afraid, and lost with his stepmother in a way he never could with his father. He can be weak, and afraid, and lost with Ossie.
Still, he hesitates again, afraid of stepping out of line. He's being ridiculous. Compared to Ossie he's a paragon of manhood. He's a killer, obvious when he tangles his battered fingers on his lap. A knight, a prince, a future king.
... but he's more of a monster than any of those things.
"My father was -- exemplary, in many ways. Everyone tells me I how much I resemble him. They -- I must live up to his example. But I ... I'm not. They have no idea how much I can't. I'll never ... " His voice strangles itself to a whisper. "I don't know if I want to."
no subject
Date: 2023-04-05 09:27 am (UTC)He rests his hand on Dimitri's shoulder, trying to be a comforting weight and not simply something else he must bear.
"I certainly expect nothing more of you than your manners and excellent company. And you've exceeded my expectations on that. I hold no pretenses about what and who you ought to be."