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Chapter Text

Year 1170

* Because never in my entire childhood did I feel like a child. I felt like a person all along – the same person I am today – Orson Scott Card, Ender's Game *

Sylvain hummed, kicking his legs freely as they dangled below the tree branch he was perched on. The tree he was sat in was blossoming with sweet scented cherry blossoms, their delicate fragrance intertwining within his hair as well as flying off on the summer breeze. He reached up and adjusted the crown he had made himself with the flowers, tipping it to more of a jaunty angle. He could see for miles up here, rolling green hills of grasses lush and thick, faraway orchards growing fruit such as apples and lemons. On one of his horse riding expeditions, he had learnt the hard way you couldn't peel and eat a lemon like you can an orange.

He could see his friends too, Felix and Dimitri, sparring playfully on the dirt training ground only a short distance away. Dimitri had hold of a wooden lance, the end rounded so to not hurt anyone. Felix meanwhile held a wooden sword, much like the one Sylvain owned to train with when he wanted to. He didn't want to train right now though, he was bored of always sparring with people. He wanted to talk about the world with people. He saw all sorts in the books that filled his father's library, and he wanted to talk about that. About the warm golden sands in the drawings there, the trees that looked nothing ones he had ever seen before. Images of food he could only dream of tasting, in flavours he could barely imagine.

He spotted Ingrid running from the house down the path towards Felix and Dimitri, blonde hair flowing out behind her. He watched as a blue ribbon escaped from the end of her braid and drifted away. His eyes followed it as it danced along the breeze, becoming entangled in another tree. He hopped down out of the tree he was in, dusting the dirt and bark splinters off the back of his trousers before he set off towards the tree holding onto Ingrid's ribbon.

  “Sylvain, what are you doing? You can't become a knight if all you do is climb trees you know.” Felix scolded, hands on his hips, standing at the foot of the tree. His brow was furrowed as he looked up at Sylvain, who was stood on the highest secure branch he could get to.

  “Ingrid lost her ribbon. I was getting it back for her. And I don't want to be a knight Felix.” He huffed, standing on tiptoes to reach the ribbon were it was wrapped around a twig. “Everyone else just wants me to be a knight.” He grasped the ribbon tightly as he manoeuvred himself down slowly and carefully so as not to fall. “There.” Sylvain beamed as he jumped down, landing with bent knees neatly like a gymnast.

  “What do you mean you don't want to be a knight? We are all going to be knights! Me, and you, and Ingrid, and Glenn, and we are going to protect Dimitri because he's going to be king.” Felix's face was very stern as he spoke, his words full of conviction. Sylvain laughed.

  “Maybe. There's other things in life than knighthood Felix, and I intend to find them out.” Sylvain took his flower crown off and dropped it onto his friends head. The pink stood out so lovely against the dark blue. “Like flower crown making. I daresay I'm rather good at it already.” Felix made an indignant noise, barging into Sylvain's side, but he left the flower crown where it had been put.

As they kept heading down to the pathway towards the training area, where Ingrid and Dimitri were now sparring together they could see clearer and clearer their 'fight'. Dimitri was already a wonderful fighter, posture set and solid, feet shoulder width apart, grip on the weapon was white-knuckle hard. Ingrid on the other hand was the opposite. She was always on her toes, dodging left and right, her grip so loose she could drop the weapon at any second. She jumped backwards and blew her hair from her eyes crossly.

  “Indy, I got your ribbon back!” Sylvain shouted, holding his fist up in the air to show her the end of it that hung from his fist. She looked over at him and smiled, dropping the sword to jog over.

  “Don't call me Indy Sylvain, it's Ingrid.” She took the ribbon off him and ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back to wrap the ribbon tightly around. “And thank you. I can't beat Dimitri when my hair is in the way.” She gave him a tight hug before turning back around to carry on her training.

Just as the sun was beginning to think about going down, a ghostly pale taking hold of the sky, Glenn arrived. He gave a small nod to Sylvain, an elegant bow to Dimitri, and he smiled brightly at Ingrid. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead as she started telling him all about the evening, the duel with Dimitri and the follow up one she did with Felix. Glenn listened intently, handing everyone other a sweet from his pocket. Glenn always brought them sweets. Sylvain sucked on the boiled sweet he had been given, listening to them all prattle on about it.

  “And what about you Sylvain? What have you been up to?” Glenn turned on him now, putting him on the spot.

  “I- uh.” He coughed, before recovering his composure. “I rescued dear Indy's hair ribbon from the tree. It blew from her hair you see. And I'm the best one at climbing trees. Oh, and I made Felix's flower crown.” He smiled smugly, ducking as Ingrid reached out to smack him. Felix reached up slowly, feeling the baby soft petals of the flowers that were still perched in the birds nest of his hair. He had forgotten all about it.

  “I said don't call me Indy Sylvain. You are such a pest!” Sylvain laughed, dodging another swing from her. His dodges were agile and seamless, perfect for fighting. Felix watched as Sylvain moved effortlessly and was envious. He wished he could be like that, so uncaring of being a knight and yet so simultaneously perfect for it. Glenn patted Ingrid on the head gently, stopping her assault.

  “Now now. Stop fighting amongst yourselves.” Ingrid sniffed indignantly, and they all laughed. The horizon shone gold as the sun steadily sunk out of view.

Back in their rooms, Felix slowly took the flower crown apart, so delicately as if it was going to disintegrate. Carefully he placed the flowers in the pages of one of his many books and let the pages weigh down, pressing the flowers flat and safe. He wanted to keep them. He wasn't going to tell Sylvain he wanted to keep them. He patted the book, tucking it back onto the bedside table. He breathed in deeply, inhaling the last whiffs of the perfume the flowers has left before he laid down on top of his covers. He missed Sylvain when he had to go home, he enjoyed his company. Sylvain was more fun than Glenn, even if he was a slacker.

Chapter Text

Year 1176

* It's so much darker when a light foes out than it would have been if it had never shone – John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent *

The sun shone gold on the horizon, and Felix paced in front incessantly, like a caged animal. He kept glancing out of the window, and then towards the door, waiting to see someone approaching, to hear someone come in through the door. He wanted to hear some news. He needed to hear some news. That was his family out there fighting. He still cursed his father for not letting him accompany them, but Rodrigue said it was 'for the best'. Sylvain rolled his eyes and turned the page in the book he was reading. His father had decided it would do him some good to come live with the Fradarius' for a while, see if that could make him a better knight. What his father failed to realise is that being a better knight was nowhere in Sylvain's agenda. He would never turn down coming to stay with Felix's though. Their library was such a wealth, with more magic books than he has ever seen before. It seemed everything his father decided he should do, he felt the urge to do the opposite. 'Train in the art of war Sylvain' he demanded, but Sylvain was now studying magic. White magic to be specific. If he had to go to war, he wanted to be able to heal those who needed it. He glanced up at Felix. He wanted to be able to heal Felix if he needed.

  “You know you're going to wear the carpet away if you don't stop.” He turned another page and traced his fingers over the outline of the magic circle there. It was so intricate, how would he remember how to draw that in a battle? “When there is news, we will be told. Until then, you can't do anything by walking the pattern from the floor.” Felix threw a cushion at Sylvain, who caught it with one hand easily. “Throwing things at me isn't going to help either.” He didn't see Felix's face, but he heard the quiet laugh. He heard the bed squeak and he glanced over, watching Felix unsheathe his sword and grab the cleaning cloth. Cleaning was better than pacing, a lot less distracting. After a few moments in silence Sylvain closed the book and held his hand palm up on front of him. He concentrated hard for a second, watching sparks and flames gather near the middle.

  “If you burn down my bedroom I'll tell Dad to send you back to your own house.” Sylvain laughed and closed his fist, extinguishing the light.

  “I wouldn't dream of it Fe.”

The door burst open and Felix knocked the sword to the floor as he stood up, looking at the doorway. Ingrid stood there, hair dishevelled, hands clenched around a tattered piece of fabric. Her hands were red. Her hands were so red.

  “Ingrid...” Sylvain put the book he was holding down and stood up, holding a hand out to her, an invitation in.

  “They... they killed them all... Dimi.... Dimitri is the only one who...” She fell to her knees, and Sylvain crossed the room in only a few strides, kneeling beside her.

  “No...” Felix started, and Ingrid pressed the fabric she was holding into Sylvain's hands. It was an undershirt, soaked in blood. It was Glenn's undershirt. “No, you're lying. They're lying. They can't all be dead.” Felix stormed over and snatched the shirt from Sylvain's hands, leaving a smeared red mark over his fingers. The red was blood, the shirt was sodden. “This is Glenn's. He's not, he can't be, Ingrid who told you this?” He threw the shirt back down into her lap and squeezed past her into the hall, looking down it. Sylvain didn't hear the conversation from the other side, but he could hear Felix's responses. 'Father, Ingrid says they're all dead. That can't be true. Don't look at me like that, Glenn wouldn't just die like that. He's stronger than that. Father? FATHER.' A crash as something broke, and then Felix appeared back in the room, his fury radiating off him like an aura. Sylvain sighed, folding the shirt up in Ingrid's lap.

  “Let me wash this for you. And your hands. You can stay in here with us tonight, you don't want to be on your own.” Ingrid nodded, not making a sound as tears rolled down her face. Sylvain was right, she didn't want to be alone. She wanted to be back in time, telling Glenn not to leave, that it wasn't safe. She wanted to go back in time and insist that her and the other two went along to help. Who knows, with more knights Glenn might have lived. She pushed the shirt back into Sylvain's hands and let him help her up and lead her to the nearest bathroom. He stood, running water over her hands and rubbing the blood off with his fingers, taking the opportunity to give her a slight massage, feeling her pulse throbbing under the skin. Once her hands were clean, he washed his own, and upon exiting he saw Felix's father. Rodrigue was stood just to the left of Felix's bedroom door, not entering, hand poised to knock on the frame. He looked up sharply at Sylvain, his face gaunt. His hand was clasped around a rosary for the Church of Seiros.

  “Sylvain... Ingrid my dear. I'll send word for your father to come, please, come to my quarters with me, I have cocoa, or coffee. I'll sit with you until your escort arrives. Sylvain, do you wish me to send word to your father?” Sylvain shook his head, letting Ingrid head off back down the corridor with Rodrigue. He stood outside the door for a minute, waiting till the others had gone. He spun around and slammed a fist into the wall. His father was right, he needed to be a knight. He needed to be stronger, be a wall to take the hits and protect the others. How could everyone except Dimitri be dead? He thought back to waving Glenn off after having groomed his horse to shining chestnut and receiving a bag of sweets secretly as a thank you. He had watched Ingrid waving Glenn's handkerchief like a small white flag, and the Faerghus banners waving on the breeze as they all marched away. How was no one coming home? He cradled his sore hand against his chest, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. He leant his forehead against the wall, steadying his breathing. He needed to be strong for Felix now.

As Sylvain lay awake that night, he heard a strange noise coming from Felix's side of the room. He rolled on his side, looking over at his friend in the dying light of the candle in between them. Felix's shoulder was shaking slightly, and that's when Sylvain recognised the noise. It was crying. Felix was crying. Sylvain scolded himself for not realising it sooner, and he sat up, pursing his lips at his friend. He wasn't sure what he was going to go to help Felix. He was such an emotionless person usually, it was hard to know what to do when he finally showed an emotion. There was one thing that no one could turn down though.

  “Fe? I brought hot chocolate. I can hear you.” Sylvain heard Felix grumbled something that sounded a lot like various swearwords before he sat up, hair messy. He scrubbed across his eyes with the back of his hand before reaching for the mug Sylvain was holding out. He mumbled a thank you and took a sip. Sylvain sat down beside him, having a drink from his own mug. “Do you want to talk about it?” Felix shook his head. Sylvain said nothing else, just sat there with him as they drunk their drinks, letting Felix calm down. When he was done, Sylvain took the cup gently and put them both on the bedside table. Felix laid back down again, and instead of going back to bed, Sylvain sat down beside the bed and slowly stroked Felix's hair, pushing strands of the dark blue backwards away from his face. “Shh...” Sylvain whispered, leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to Felix's forehead, just like he had watched Glenn do to Ingrid six years previous. “Sleep, Felix. I'll stay awake, in case anything happens.” In case anything happens, like a full scale war starts out because of the fact they killed the entire royal family he meant. Felix seemed satisfied with his answer though, and he relaxed, letting himself drown in the feeling of Sylvain's hand drifting over his hair, and listening to Sylvain hum a soft song that he had never heard before. Maybe he found it in one of those books he was always reading? Felix made a mental note to ask Sylvain about it in the morning.

They all wore black to the funeral.

That night Sylvain was waiting for Felix to come back into their shared room after going 'somewhere' as Felix phrased it. He had flicked through all the books he had chosen from the library, but none struck his fancy. Plenty could cure physical wounds, but that wasn't useful to him right now. Truth be told he didn't want to fix how Felix was feeling, emotions and feeling were normal, and human, and he didn't want to take that away. Something to help him sleep would probably be appreciated. He wasn't even sure where Felix was, this 'somewhere' seemed to be fairly far away. Unless... no, Felix wouldn't just leave. He couldn't just leave right now. He jumped up, knocking the bedside table with his knee, knocking the unlit candle and the book that was on it too the floor.

  “Shit.” He muttered, grabbing the book to replace it where it had come from. As he picked it up via the spine, some brown-pink flowers falling out of it. “Wh-” he picked one up gingerly and realised what it was. He had kept the flower crown. Slipping the flowers back into the pages, he put his shoes back on. He needed to find Felix, wherever he had gone.

Felix was at the training area. He wasn't training, he didn't bring a weapon. He just wanted to be under the stars, under the tree, where he had a happy memory of Glenn. It had been a wonderful day that day. Sylvain had given him this wonderful flower crown gift, Glenn had given them all sweets even though Felix wasn't the biggest fan, and they'd all gone back for a warm dinner, and sat around the fire sipping hot chocolate and discussing favourite fighting moves. He'd fallen asleep leaning against Sylvain that night, nearly spilling the dregs of hot chocolate all over his lap. But Glenn has caught it and stopped it. Glenn also carried him to bed that night too, tucking him in, doing what his father should have done. Glenn was always more of a father than a brother, and Felix had adored him so much. Now he was gone.

  “Hey, Fe? Come back to the house.” Startled, Felix reached for his sword, forgetting he didn't have it.

  “N-not yet. I want... I can't sleep. I feel closer to him here.” He licked his lips, looking back up at the stars. “Glenn once told me people who die, their souls get added to the stars. I told him not to be stupid, and people don't have souls. He said that just because I didn't believe in them, doesn't make them not real, and when he dies, his soul will be up there.” Felix pointed up at a star that seemed brighter than the rest. “I want to think that one's him.” Sylvain stood next to Felix, leaning over to look up at the stars with him, following his finger.

  “I agreed with you, that one is definitely him.” The star seemed to blink back to them in response, a message from Glenn saying I'm not gone.

Chapter Text

Year 1180

* Love isn't something you find. Love is something that finds you – Loretta Young *

Felix rapped on the door to Sylvain's bedroom, an armful of books and a small paper bag sat atop of them. He had been given the sweets by a girl in town, who had dazzled him with a friendly smile and glittery eyes. She had seemed enamoured with him, even though he had done nothing to earn that affection, and no amount of protesting had allowed him to reject the pink sweets in the bag. He had been planning to leave them, open at the top for all his classmates to share. An anonymous gift from a kind benefactor. After the battle of today though, where they had come face to face with Miklan of all people, who then turned into a... thing, Sylvain needed the sweets more. There was no answer behind the door, and Felix huffed, knocking again, harder.

  “Sylvain if you don't open this door, I will physically break it down.” Dimitri's head poked out of his own door, an eyebrow raised. Felix's cold glare sent the young prince back into his room sharpish. “Sylvain. Sylvain!” The lock in the door clicked, and Sylvain stood there, dishevelled. It looked like he had just dragged himself out of bed, hair sticking up at odd angles more often than usual, and his clothes rumpled. Felix sighed softly, walking into his room, ignoring Sylvain's protesting that he didn't want him to come in.

  “Felix, please, I'm fine, I was studying for the paper that Byleth set.” Felix glanced around at the messy sheets, the spotless desk, the neat piles of books and the vases of flowers half dead on the windowsill. Felix rolled his eyes and shoved the books he had brought into Sylvain's chest.

  “Magic ones. I thought you would want them. Want to borrow them. Indefinitely. Just until whenever you're done. And some sweets. Eat them.” Felix set about taking the dead flowers from the vases and chucking them into the waste basket in the corner. “And these will be doing you no good Sylvain. I know you're... particular.” Sylvain's tired smile made Felix feel a lot better. Having your brother die was hard. Having to kill him after he morphed into a horrid beast must feel even worse.

  “Sweets? Why on earth did you buy me sweets?” Sylvain laughed, popping one in his mouth and chewing.

  “I didn't, I was given them by a girl down at the markets as I was buying your books- buying my books.” He cleared his throat. He had been at the market to buy Sylvain the magic books, both black and white. He'd noticed the way he only pretended to not pay attention in those parts of class, when he was genuinely not paying attention in the other parts. Buying Sylvain gifts wasn't something Felix did often, in fact he hadn't done it in a long while, since before they'd joined the academy, but he decided if there was ever a time to do it, now was the time. Sylvain raised an eyebrow, and decided against mentioning the slip up. Bringing to his attention not only had he made a mistake, but he was doing something human would make Felix withdraw back into himself again and cut Sylvain out. Now was a time Sylvain needed Felix to reach out and give off the gentle warmth that he was capable of.

  “Well I thank you anyway. Now, help me study for this paper. We both know I am utterly clueless, and I could do with some help, Mr Brains.” Sylvain threw a sweet at Felix, who caught it and pulled a face at the icing sugar now all over his hand.

  “Urgh. Fine. Just don't throw more of these at me.” Sylvain winked and fell back onto his bed, feeling the weight in his chest start to lift off a little bit.

Darkness had set in, and neither of the boys wanted to pour over the books by candlelight. Instead they were sat on the floor playing noughts and crosses on a scrap piece of paper. They'd began playing truth or dare out of boredom, and Felix's desire to cheer Sylvain up, and Sylvain's dare was 'beat me in noughts and crosses five times straight' – something that was meant to be hard, but in reality not very. Sylvain wasn't brilliant at tactics, and wouldn't think far enough ahead to prevent Felix from winning.

  “5-0. My turn. Truth.” Felix screwed up the paper and threw it into the bin neatly. “Why... why don't you seem as broken as I was? Y'know, as I was when Glenn...” Sylvain cleared his throat and looked for something else to do. Something else to touch, to fiddle with, anything to distract him right now from the question he had been presented with. The question he didn't want to answer. He took in a deep breath, trying to work out how to answer the question, but his breath felt like cold water, stale and stagnant, filling his nose, his lungs, drowning him in sudden panic. He opened his mouth, trying to choke out something, a beg for help, an apology for something, a feeling that he had done a wrong doing, but it wasn't repairable. He reached out, grabbing for a solid object. He choked as hands wrapped around his neck, finger by finger, pressing his Adam's apple backwards into his windpipe and he coughed.

You dirty little whiner, you crybaby, wipe your fucking tears pretty boy. You ruined everything, my fucking life, my entire fucking life, and you're going to pay for it.

Miklan's voice echoed around his head as he tried to peel the fingers away from his neck, but they remained firm. He dug his nails in, heard a hiss, and felt himself thrown backwards, down, down, down, falling until he hit water which rushed over his head, the cold startling him. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe-

  “Sylvain!” A voice that wasn't Miklan's cut through the water. It was a voice he wanted to go to, to lean against, to let himself curl up and fall asleep listening to. He mumbled something that wasn't quite a word, searching for the source of the noise. “Sylvain, it's me, it's Felix. You- I don't know. I asked a truth question and you... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” Felix sounded more emotional than he has ever heard him, and Sylvain finally looked up and saw his bedroom again.

  “Fe...” He whispered, reaching up, stroking Felix's face, grounding himself back down to reality by wondering in the smoothness of his friend's skin. Felix's hands were on Sylvain's shoulders, holding him tightly, and they were closer than they had been before he'd blacked out. “I... Miklan threw me in a well. When I was a child. He said I ruined everything by being born with a crest, and he wasn't. It wasn't my fault. I tried to tell him, I would get rid of the crest if I could. I told him that Felix, I did, but he never listened. I feel bad he's dead, I do. And I feel even worse I killed him. But he made my childhood hell Fe, I don't want... I don't feel as bad as I should. I feel bad about that.” He sniffed, rubbing the back of his hand across his cheeks, surprised to find them wet. He was crying. Shit.

  “I didn't mean...” Felix trailed off as he saw Sylvain more vulnerable than he had ever been. “It's your turn. In truth or dare I mean.” He changed the conversation. That was Sylvain would do is this was reversed, so it's what he would do too.

  “Dare.” Sylvain wiped the tears off his face, and looked at Felix. Felix's hands were still on his shoulders. “But, I dare you to kiss me.” Felix's eyes widened.

  “You just sat here and had a fucking panic attack, and now you're daring me to kiss you? You don't want to stop the game?” Sylvain was joking. He had to be joking? There's no reason he would be serious about this. Why would Sylvain want him to actually kiss him?

  “Are you forfeiting? If you don't do the dare, you forfeit. If I wanted to stop the game, I would. I want to think about something else.” Sylvain's lips tweaked into a smile. Oh god he really meant it. Felix swallowed his fear, and steeled his resolve. He wasn't about to lose a dare against Sylvain Jose Gautier. He leant in, letting his lips brush gently against Sylvain's. He wasn't expecting Sylvain's lips to be so soft, so supple, so yielding against his. He only meant for it to last a few seconds, but he couldn't find it in him to pull back. He eventually managed to, and he realised he was shaking.

  “That. Well.” He averted his eyes from Sylvain's face. “My turn. And I choose... truth. Why did you dare me to kiss you?” Felix didn't want to look at Sylvain right now. He wanted him to explain why he had demanded the kiss. If it was to make fun of him for being inexperienced, or if he had thought he would chicken out.

  “Because I wanted to kiss you. I didn't want to freak you out by making the first move. So I thought if you did it, it wouldn't be as... intimidating. And you could have always said no. Please don't say you regret it, oh shit-” Felix put a finger on Sylvain's lips, shutting him up.

  “No, I don't regret it. I just didn't... didn't understand why me. You could have, and do have the pick of any of the girls around here. And yet here you are picking me. It doesn't make any sense to me.” His voice faltered, and he stopped. He hadn't shown anyone this much emotion since Glenn died. He hadn't wanted to, he had to be the strong one. Glenn was always there, a stalwart companion for whoever needed him, and had been a rock solid hero. Felix was smaller, slimmer, not the broad warrior his brother had been. Glenn had had a sunny charming smile, and was so good with emotions and empathy. Sylvain reached up, cupping a hand under Felix's chin and turning his head back so their eyes met. If sparks could have physically flown they would have done, cliché as it might be.

  “I don't want them though. They aren't my best friend. I didn't promise to die together with just anyone, idiot.” Felix scowled at the fact Sylvain called him an idiot, but his brow softened instantly afterwards as Sylvain leant in and kissed him delicately on the forehead. “Does that make it my turn again?”

  “No, it's game over.” Felix muttered, crushing his lips back to Sylvain's in a kiss that had been years coming. All the tension they'd built up over time and time again of training, ending up face to face with clashed blades, tending to each others wounds, laughing together over camp fire meals, finally being put out. Sylvain let out a soft groan, hands moving up to untie Felix's ponytail, right as someone knocked on the door.

  “Sylvain, you missed dinner. Come with me down to the dining hall, I'll have Dedue make you a meal.” Dimitri's voice echoed through the wood, and they both shot apart. Felix's cheeks were burning in embarrassment and he shuffled backwards, hiding behind the corner of the head board, so Sylvain could open the door confidently.

  “Hey! Dimitri... that would be amazing. Thank you.” Dimitri headed down the corridor, and Sylvain looked over his shoulder to where Felix was hiding. Why, why did Dimitri have to interupt him then?

Felix never went back to knock on Sylvain's door.

Chapter Text

Year 1183

* If you are cold at night, let the promise of my love cover you like a warm blanket – Matthew White *

Felix blew into his hands, the white mist weeping through the little gaps in his fingers. He shivered and pulled the fur rim of his cloak closer to his neck.

  “Fuck it's cold.” He muttered to himself, kicking the snow from his boots. He hated waiting around. Waiting felt idle, and idleness didn't lead to progress in the war. Standing around getting snowed on didn't protect people. It didn't save anyone. He was waiting for Sylvain's battalion to get through the mountain pass to them. It wasn't a large one, but it was a group of archers who were desperately needed. Sylvain however, was late.

Large fat snowflakes began to drift down from the clouds above and Felix looked up with a scowl, blinking the few that landed on his eyelashes away. Sylvain wasn't usually late in these times of war. During the absence of Dimitri, Dedue and Byleth, they'd taken it upon themselves to start evacuating villages and repairing them. It was what Byleth would do. Dimitri... Felix didn't trust anything he might have done. He might have just burnt the villages down to save the Empire from doing it. Felix puffed out his cheeks, turning to look down the path that Sylvain was supposed to be emerging from. The snow was fresh, untravelled, and as he looked down the darkening path, he got a bad vibe. He bit down on his lower lip nervously, staring, waiting, half expecting to see Sylvain's mess of red hair on his horse appear from the gloom followed by the archers. Actually it would be more like Sylvain leading the horse that carried the more exhausted archers, because that's just the sort of thing that he would do. The longer he looked, the more bad the vibe in his chest became until it was eating at him, gnawing at him like a rabid dog, nausea starting to sit in his stomach.

  “Gather.” He called out to the soldiers who were milling around the makeshift camp they'd thrown together to help keep them out of the wind. “They haven't arrived yet. I know Sylvain, he wouldn't be this late. We need to go down the pass and look for them.” When he spotted a soldier roll his eyes his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. “I know Sylvain Gautier like the back of my hand. When I tell you he wouldn't be this late, I mean it. Don't doubt me.” His tone was level, and eyes serious. The soldier averted his gaze away from the stony look and grabbed his weapon. “Let's move out whilst we still have some daylight.”

20 minutes of walking in the snow showed no signs of people, and Felix's worry was just worsening. He wasn't allowed to show it though. Not only because he had to be the strong Fraldarius leader his father believed in, but no one knew about him and Sylvain, and he wanted to keep it that way too. During the war effort he and Sylvain had become a lot closer, having sexual encounters in private whenever they could steal a moment. The last few times the words I love you had floated on his lips but he hadn't been able to make himself say them. He didn't want to say it and ruin the good thing they had. Instead every time he'd let a moan appear in the three words place and let his head fall backwards in pleasure. Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted as someone behind him placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Boss, look.” Felix squinted at the greyish white snow on the ground, following the line of their finger down to a few feet away from them where the ground changed. It went from being soft undisturbed snow to scuffed trenches, like there had been a fight. Not only was the texture different, but the colour was too. Blood. Felix unsheathed his sword in a rage and barrelled forwards, mind focused on one thing. Find Sylvain. Find Sylvain. Find-

Sylvain was leant against a large rock, using the rock to apply pressure to a wound in his side, his lance just within reach, fingertips just about resting on the shaft. He coughed, spitting blood from his mouth onto the snow beside him and he grimaced. He was in a lot of pain. He wanted to get up, even to crawl, down the pass towards their destination so he could see Felix. He needed Felix to know he hadn't not arrived on purpose. They were ambushed, and with no healers except himself and his basic knowledge of white magic, and just a swath of archers there was nothing they could have done. He breathed in deeply, wincing at the way his ribs seemed to tighten around his lungs, and unnerved at the way his breath sound seemed to rattle. He knew that noise. No. Snow crunched ahead and he looked up, a vague hope it was help coming blossoming in his mind. It was probably more enemies. He wasn't going to last much longer. He wasn't going to get to tell Felix he-

  “SYLVAIN.” A voice cried out, a voice he knew. Hope bloomed in his chest like a flower in spring and he tilted his chin up, calling back.

  “Felix. Felix I'm here. Over here.” His head dropped back down, his energy sapping. He grasped his lance tightly and planted one end of it in the ground, using it to hoist himself to a standing position. Sylvain Jose Gautier did not die lying down. He would die honourably. Standing on the battlefield. Felix dropped his sword when he saw Sylvain and he ran over to him, tucking both arms under Sylvain's armpits, holding up the entire weight of the taller man.

  “What happened? Oh god, Sylvain, you're bleeding, oh god.” Felix's voice trailed off as he realised just how much blood Sylvain had lost, and how much he was still losing. “Sylvain no, you're not allowed to die here. If you die here I will fucking kill you. We promised, remember? That we would die together. I have no intentions of dying on this god forsaken mountain because of this stupid war.” Felix gritted his teeth and turned around, laying Sylvain across his back and hitching him up so he was fully carrying the man. “No, we aren't dying here. You hear me? I won't allow it.” Sylvain tried to laugh weakly at Felix, pressing his nose into the smaller man's neck, breathing in. Felix smelt like peppermint, like hot cocoa, like you would expect all the best part's of winter to smell like if you bundled them all up into a skinny form of a man. Sylvain murmured something, nuzzling Felix's neck. It was a totally inappropriate time, but whatever. He thought he was going to die. There couldn't have been a better time. Felix kept trudging down the path, determined. There were healers at camp. He was going to get Sylvain there, and Sylvain was going to be fine.

  “Felix...” Sylvain whispered weakly, letting his eyes close. He was tired.

  “Sylvain no, whatever you're gonna say, don't. Save your energy. You're going to be fine.” You have to be fine.

  “Felix, no.” Sylvain felt a tear run from the corner of his eye and he sniffed pathetically. “I love you Felix. I need to say it. I have to say it, and it has to be now. Just... just in case.” Felix choked on his next breath when he heard those words and he steeled himself, squeezing Sylvain's thigh as he held him tighter to his back.

  “I love you too Sylvain. Now shut up and save your energy because you are not allowed to die on me.”

Sylvain groaned. Everything hurt. If it was possible even the very strands of his hair hurt. He let out a slow breath, and his eyes snapped open. He was breathing. He was in pain, but he was breathing. Was he in Heaven? Or in Hell? Hell was probably more likely. Hell wouldn't involve waking up underneath a warm heavy blanket though. He grumbled, tucking his elbows against his side and pushing upwards, head feeling heavy but also light at the same time, like sodden cotton wool.

  “Lay back down, asshole.” Felix sniped from the corner and Sylvain beamed when he realised he was there. “You were so close to death I could have sworn I saw a scythe hanging over you. You need to rest, and this isn't debatable.” Felix closed the book he was reading, White Magic 101, and moved to sit next to Sylvain's bed, brushing a hand delicately over his hair. He'd been reading the book to try and learn basic spells, for in the field healing. Whilst the healer's had praised Felix on his quick thinking and the speed with which he'd gotten Sylvain to camp, he knew if he had been able to execute one Heal in the field, he would have been less touch and go. He couldn't risk another close call like that again. He would be having nightmares about it for weeks. “Please.” The out of character softness of Felix made Sylvain lay back down, looking up at him with doe eyes.

  “How many made it, other than me?”

  “None. You were lucky.” Guilt flooded Sylvain, who looked away, fists clenching. “Don't. I know what you're thinking. We could see how the fight played out, and there was nothing more you could have done.” Felix leant down, pressing a kiss to Sylvain's forehead. “And I told you not to die without me. When are you planning on listening to me?” Sylvain felt exhaustion wave back over him and he hummed softly, tilting his face towards Felix.

  “Maybe now you've told me you love me I will. Now let me sleep. And... don't leave me.” Felix hadn't planned on leaving.

Chapter Text

Year 1185

* I'd rather lose an argument to the person I love, than win the argument and lose the person – Abhijit Naskar, Lives to Serve Before I Sleep *

Felix threw himself at Dimitri, fists clenched in rage. Dimitri stepped backwards, face showing a certain vulnerability, that nobody had seen on his face in a long time. Sylvain jumped in between them, his and Felix's height difference an advantage as he stopped the shorter man in his path. Felix rose up on his tip toes to look over Sylvain's shoulder to keep shouting.

  “Why does my whole family keep throwing themselves in front of you? Dying for you?” His voice echoed around the destroyed cathedral hall and Sylvain grounded himself as he held the smaller man back. “First Glenn, now my father? Was one set of Fraldarius blood on your hands not enough boar?” Felix spat, shoving at Sylvain, who refused to let go. “SAY SOMETHING.” He was seething with rage, and Dimitri was just stood silently, as if he was ignoring everything Felix was saying. Sylvain gripped Felix's biceps and lifted him clean off the ground, throwing him backwards.

  “How can he say something when you're trying to tear his head off? Let him speak.” Felix huffed, dusting his arms off. Sylvain turned back to Dimitri, watching him closely.

  “I...” Dimitri cleared his throat. “I can't say I'm sorry, Felix. Not only because you won't believe me, but because saying sorry won't bring them back.” Felix's face twisted in a scowl. “And I... Glenn wasn't my fault. I wish anything it would have been me who died then. That I could have saved him. Please Felix, believe me when I say that I wish I could reverse it.” Felix spat on the ground, gripping the back of a pew. His face was gaunt, every muscle in his body tight with anger. His eyes were dark, both in and under, and his hair was limp, two strands hanging down to frame his face. He had spent five years at war, he had saved Sylvain's life, he had saved entire brigades of people all fighting under the Faerghus flag. He had nearly died for Faerghus. Unknowingly to Dimitri, after they'd come back to the monastery he had stood guard for him. Like his father had done for Dimitri's before his. He'd stood through torrential rain, snow, and iced winds, just watching Dimitri. Everything he had done for him. And how did he repay him? By getting his father killed.

  “You're a beast. A boar of a man. An animal who knows nothing but pain, and killing. And you know nothing but destruction. And that is what you are spreading everywhere you go. Destruction. If you would kindly stop destroying everything of mine, and start destroying what is left of yours.” And with that, Felix turned tail and stormed out. Dimitri stood, lit by the light filtering through the open hole in the ceiling of the cathedral. Dust particles danced down in the rays, landing on the golden hair upon Dimitri's head. He cleared his throat, and shouldered his lance, looking at the empty doorway.

  “Follow him. Please, Sylvain. I can't... I can't get through to him. He needs someone.” Dimitri lowered his gaze to the floor, and Sylvain saw him for who he really was. He wasn't the strong king, taking after his father, stepping perfectly into the footsteps that lay before him. He was a broken man, who needed someone to lean on. He needed someone to trust, who he knew he could rely on. He didn't have an ounce of family left in the world, and the one man who was vaguely like a father to him just laid down his life, in front of his son, for him. Dimitri needed Felix. In some odd way, Sylvain decided Felix needed Dimitri too. He knew about the way he stood guard for him at night, and the way he put himself in more danger than needed. He knew despite the fact he wanted to be different than his father, he was following his lead. Sylvain knew Felix needed Dimitri, but he wasn't going to let him die for him. Sylvain nodded respectfully at Dimitri, gave him a small salute, and jogged out of the cathedral to find Felix.

Felix was sat in his bedroom, running the prongs of a small dark spur over his palm, watching the way it left little indents. It didn't hurt, he didn't want it to hurt, but it was a feeling. A feeling other than the numbness that was filling him like water. He choked back a sob and he threw the spur across the room. He shouldn't have lost himself like that. He knew realistically it wasn't Dimitri's fault his Dad was dead, he had watched his father put himself in danger. He had watched his father move without blinking into the weapon's path. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if his father would have done that for him. He set his jaw and felt another wave of anger and he slammed his fists down onto his desk and swept the contents off it. A book he'd had since he was a child flew off it and landed, pages on, dried flowers spilling out. He grabbed a vase and threw it, the ceramic shattering against the wall, water spilling out onto his bed. Book after book he launched, each one thudding on the wall, a couple of pages breaking away from their glue in the spines and fluttering out. Felix grabbed his pillow and held it tightly against his chest, arms shaking. The anger subsided, and he regained his ability to breathe. He breathed in and out slowly, eyes closed, forgetting to keep his emotions in check as tears finally spilled out. Tears he had been holding in for god knows how many years.

Sylvain knocked on the door, and when he got no response he opened it. He didn't need Felix's permission to open the door right now. Felix needed him whether he thought it or not. Something crunched slightly under his foot and he lifted his foot again in surprise. The paper thin petals of the flowers he'd given to Felix years before were shattered. He gulped as he realised the rest of the room was in complete disarray. Felix was knelt in the middle of the room, clutching a pillow to his chest.

  “Oh, Fe...” He whispered, kneeling down beside him. “Hey, c'mon. Up you get. Let's get you into my room, and I'll clean up in here. Felix. Felix look at me man.” Felix looked up at Sylvain, who was taken aback by how red his eyes were. How the tears were staining his cheeks. How he looked like he did as a child, when he used to cry all the time about things. He made a soft noise Sylvain took to be accepting, and Sylvain nodded. Felix didn't seem to be in the capacity to walk just down the hall right now, so Sylvain scooped him up in his arms and held him against his chest for a second.      “Shh... okay ready? You can lay down in my room. I'll clean up. And then come in there.” Felix rested his head on Sylvain's chest and let himself be carried on the room.

Sylvain closed Felix's door behind him and looked around the destruction in front of him. He'd never seen Felix lose it like this, ever. Slowly, he began to pick up the pieces, placing the books back on the windowsill, leaving the lone pages to one side to sort through and put back in later. Ashe should know a way to fix it. He stripped the bed of the damp covers and put them in a corner for laundry, and carefully swept the pieces of the broken vase up into a pile using the dustpan and brush that was hiding under Felix's bed. The last thing to do was pick up the flowers. He wasn't sure how he was even going to do it and rescue any of them, but he had to try. As delicately as he could, he lifted them, slipping them back into the book he knew they'd come from. All these years, not only had Felix kept the flowers, he kept them in the same book. Creature of habit, as always. Only one of the flowers he managed to keep intact. One was better than none. He swept the rest of the mess into the same pile as the broken vase. Before leaving, Sylvain decided to double check the room. He knelt down, looking under the bed, and spotted something glint. He reached under, grabbing it and wincing as it pricked him. A... spur? A dark spur, tiny spots of rust forming around the pin that held it in place. It was old. It wasn't Felix's that was for sure. It must have belonged to someone who rode a horse, and Felix had never been a fan of horses. Maybe it was his fathers, or- it clicked who the spur belonged to. Glenn. Sylvain sighed, staring down at what he thought was probably the only physical item left on this planet that showed Glenn had been there. He polished it quickly on the bed covers, watching the way the dark steel shone. It reminded him of his own spurs. Maybe Felix noticed it too, and it was why he sometimes seemed to distant, especially when he was in full armour. He pocketed the spur and headed back to his own room. One more thing to try and tidy up now; Felix's state of mind.

Felix didn't move the whole time Sylvain was out the room. He just kept running over and over in his head the feelings he'd had overcome him in his room. The unbridled rage he'd let take over for once. He'd never let it do that before, only in battle, only when it was life or death, and he needed to live. That wasn't life or death in there. He'd just lost control. He buried his face into his pillow, trying to ignore the sound of Sylvain coming back in, and ignore the way he just shuffled around the room, avoiding him.

  “Felix, I found something in your room I think you want back. It's a spur. I'll put it on my desk, come grab it when you want it.” Felix heard a clink as it was set down but he didn't move. He wanted to. He wanted it back. He didn't deserve it back though. Glenn would have wanted him to protect Dimitri, and protect their father, and he had just stood on looking like an idiot. “Felix, look at me.” He didn't move. Sylvain brushed a hand over his hair, working his fingers quickly to untie in the ponytail so his hair could be free. “Keeping that up too long will give you a headache, I've told you that.” Felix chuckled softly and rolled over, laying on his back.

  “When was the last time I listened to you?” He managed a weak smile, leaning into Sylvain's hand as he trailed it down Felix's jaw.

  “Good point.” He tucked his fingers under Felix's chin and tipped his face so they were making eye contact. “Are you okay?” Felix paused, concentrating on the feeling of Sylvain's fingers on his face.

  “No. I'm not. I've not been okay since Glenn died. Since part of Father died along with him. I...” He pushed himself up so he was sitting cross-legged, taking Sylvain's hand in his. “I felt better since we.... y'know. At school, and during the war. I lost something again when I nearly lost you. I got...” He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it so it was loose over his shoulders. “I got scared. And I told myself I couldn't lose someone else. I can't lose you. And I can't let Dimitri die. I can't do it Sylvain. My father protected his, Glenn protected him, and my father died for him. I can't let them both down now by letting him die, even if I hate him.” His voice faltered as he said hate, because he knew in his heart he didn't really hate Dimitri. He had seen the way his voice and posture were different today than they had been for months. He was a haunted man, with past ghosts that were following him at every corner. Felix understood that well. He could feel Glenn's gaze on him sometimes, watching him, hear his voice criticising the way he held his sword, the way he placed his feet. Constantly he had to remind himself that he wasn't Glenn.

  “You don't have to look after me Fe.” Sylvain massaged Felix's palm with his thumb. “I can look after myself.” He leant forward, kissing Felix's forehead. Felix reached up, cupping Sylvain's cheek.

  “I do. I do. I can't let you die. We made a promise, remember?” Felix looked desperate and Sylvain shushed him, wiping a tear off his cheek.

  “Of course I remember. How could I forget? What I'm saying is I can protect my own ass. I know it doesn't seem like it, I mean I did nearly die that time, but I'm telling you Fe, I'm stronger than you think I am.” Felix jolted back, looking offended.

  “Are you saying I think you're weak?” Felix pushed past Sylvain to stand up, snatching rhe spur off the desk.

  “I didn't say that. That isn't what I said.” Sylvain stood up, trying to stop Felix leaving the room with no avail.

  “It's what you hinted at. You think that I think you're weak? I'll tell you what I think. I think you're an idiot. An... an arrogant idiot who thinks he's invincible. You didn't take your near death experience seriously and you're still trying to joke about it.” Felix stormed out the room, slamming a fist into the wall. “I think you're a pretty boy who... who doesn't take things seriously. Have you ever taken anything seriously? How about me, huh? How about us? You ever take that seriously? Or am I just a piece of ass you can hit whenever you feel like because you're bored.” Sylvain froze, words caught in his throat as Felix wheeled on him in the corridor. “Is that why you're always insistent that I don't need to watch you for you? Because you know you wouldn't do the same for me?” Sylvain's jaw dropped, appalled.

  “And where the fuck are you drawing that conclusion?” Sylvain hissed, grabbing Felix by the shoulders and slamming him into the wall. “Because I say that you don't need to look after me? I say that because I know you, Felix. I know that Fraldarius blood pulses through your veins, and you people are the most loyal protectors of people in the world. Rodrigue died protecting Dimitri. Glenn died protecting him. Your Dad would have died countless times for Lambert too had the situation came up. I'm not yours to die for. That's the Prince's spot. I can look after myself, and I need you to stop trying to protect me, because if you die before me, he doesn't have another you. Sure he's got Dedue, and he's the 'Prince's Shield' and all that business, but he isn't a Fraldarius.” Sylvain gritted his teeth and put pressure against Felix, holding him there against the wall. “And bored of you? Bored? What kind of person gets bored of Felix Fraldarius? The enigma in himself, who holds his cards so close to his chest he can't read them himself.” Felix slammed his head forward, trying to get Sylvain in the nose. Sylvain dodged to the side. “I don't come to you whenever I'm bored. When I'm bored, I think about you. When I'm asleep, I dream of you. When I was dying, alone and covered in snow, you wanna know what I thought? I thought that I needed to live. I needed to live just long enough to say goodbye to you. You are everything to me Felix. You eclipse everyone else in my life, and as long as you're in it, I don't want, nor need anyone else.” He let go of Felix, stepping back to the other side of the corridor. “But if that still doesn't convince you, fine. Whatever. I can't fight with you constantly about this Felix. I could chase you forever. I would chase you forever. I just know you don't want that.” Sylvain's body language shifted from offence, to defensive. To given up. “I don't know what you want Felix. I'll always be here for you. I'll always wait for you.” He took a step backwards again. “I'm always going to be here. Just... come get me when you know what you want.” And with that, he turned and went back into his room, closing the door behind him.

That wasn't how Felix had thought it was going to go. He sat on the jetty to the school's pond, petting on of the cats who was laying next to him in the vague hope he would produce a fish for them. He kept replaying the conversation, the raised voices, the pressure on his shoulders, the defeated look in Sylvain's eyes as he gave up. Gave up on him. He replayed words from it in his head, over and over. What kind of person gets bored of Felix Fraldarius? He recited, closing his eyes and concentrating on the softness of the fur under his fingers. Lots of people, he'd thought. He didn't have a lot of friends. Some would say it was due to his crassness, and the fact he couldn't hold a proper conversation to save his life. He just hadn't thought it made much sense to make many friends with war always on the horizon. He'd never wanted to be put in a position to kill a friend.

  “May I?” A voice he recognised from behind him made him laugh, letting his chin drop to his chest.

  “Do you really need to ask permission, your Highness?” He turned back to look at Dimitri, who looked remarkably smaller without the large fur cloak on, without the lance in his hand. He'd not seen Dimitri without either since... forever.

  “It's polite. I'm trying to turn over a new leaf here, humour me Felix.” Felix rolled his eyes and patted the jetty next to him. “Thank you.” They sat, not talking for a minute, the cat purring and the waterfall the only sounds around.

  “I fucked things up with Sylvain.” Felix ventured, watching the dying sun glint on the water. He didn't know why he was telling this to Dimitri, but it felt right. He needed to talk to someone who wasn't himself or the cat.

  “Oh?” Dimitri sounded genuinely curious, and worried. “What... what happened?”

  “I lost my damn mind. I'm an idiot Dima.” He used their childhood nickname for him without really thinking, as if the past years of mental torment had never happened. “He said something, and I took it the wrong way. I was an idiot. And then I kept on yelling, accused him of just... wanting me when he's bored. And I know that isn't true, I'm not even sure why I said it. He got real mad about it though and gave me this whole speech about how I'm destined to die for you, or someone of your bloodline because I'm a Fraldarius and that's what we do.” He threw a pebble into the water, admiring the ripples. “Then he carried on about how... how he would always wait for me. Like what is that meant to mean?” He huffed, blowing some of his hair out of his eyes. He'd forgotten to tie it back up.

  “I think it means that he will always be there.” Dimitri hummed in thought before carrying on. “It means he won't chase after you. If you don't go for him, he won't go for you. He's not going to knock on your door in the middle of the night hoping you respond, he's going to be waiting for your knock instead.” He put a hand on Felix's lower back. “And I don't want you to die for me Felix. In fact dying is quite low on my agenda for both of us. I have Dedue. He can protect me better than anyone. Don't think I'm doubting you. I'm not. I would never doubt you.” Felix looked at Dimitri in shock. He looked ill. He needed a hot meal, weeks worth of sleep. A hug maybe. He didn't look like the man Felix had thought he'd grow into. He thought he'd grow into this big, bulky leader, someone he could be proud of. Not a man who looked a ghost of his former self. “I trust you with my life Felix. I'm sorry I've never made it seem like that, and I'm sorry I've been responsible for so much of the loss in your life. It was never my intention to hurt you. I've always seen you as a brother. Do not die for me Felix. Die for something you truly believe in.” He patted Felix in between his shoulder blades. “If there's one thing I've learnt, it's that the past doesn't get to tell you what to do. I've been living for the past five years by what the ghosts of my past have been telling me. They've been poking, and prodding me, pushing me further and further from the life that I knew and that I believed in.” He stood up, brushing his trousers off of dust. “Now I live by the rules I set myself. I'm the King now. I have to make my own choices, not live by those set by the dead.” He squeezed Felix's shoulder, and then he offered Felix his hand. “Do the same, Felix. Live by your own rules.” Felix took the hand and stood up, making eye contact with Dimitri, his eyes a stark blue. Those were the eyes he'd remembered from childhood. Full of warmth, yet cold from the same time, a weight in them. Felix shook his hand before turning, heading back to the dorms.

Chapter Text

Year 1185

*Sex without love is as hollow and ridiculous as love without sex - Hunter S Thompson*

He stood in front of Sylvain's door, staring at the handle. He could knock, like he'd done before. Then he'd been holding books, and sweets, and childish glee in his heart. Now he held none of those. He held an apology, that much was certain, an overwhelming love that made him feel stupid. He raised his hand to knock, and changed his mind, grabbing the handle and pushing it open.

  “Sylvain, I-” The room was empty. He looked around, not that there was anywhere to hide, and scowled. How dare he not be there when he'd gone to apologise? He huffed, closing the door behind him. Where could he be? Where would he have gone? He opened the door to his own room as somewhere to sit and think, and was startled to find Sylvain sat in there instead. “Sylvain?” Sylvain didn't look up at him. Sylvain kept staring at the floor, turning thoughts over and over in his head. He wanted to look up at Felix, but he couldn't find it in himself to do so. He shouldn't have walked away from him. He shouldn't have yelled at him. Felix appeared in his peripheral vision and he moved backwards in shock.

  “Wh-”

  “I came back. You said to come get you when I was ready. I'm ready. I don't want... I don't to live my life by dead men's rules. I can't live by what they did, and where they went with their life. I'm not a shield for Dimitri. That's Dedue's job, not mine. I have my own life to lead. And that life is with you.” He put both hands on Sylvain's knees, pushing himself up and kissing Sylvain without abandon. Sylvain gasped into the kiss and his hands automatically moved to Felix's face, moving him away a little.

  “You- what? You want to lead a life with me?” Their noses were brushing, they were so close. “That almost sounds like a proposal.” Laughing nervously, Felix squeezed Sylvain's knees softly.

  “That would be because it was.” His smile was nervous, but his eyes hopeful. He was waiting for answer that he thought he could guess, but he needed to hear Sylvain say it. Dimitri was right. He couldn't follow dead men's footsteps anymore, neither of them could do. He took a deep breath, pressing his forehead to Sylvain's, waiting.

  “You're an idiot if you didn't already know that the answer is a yes.” Sylvain kissed Felix gently, and then a little more, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, hands still on Felix's face. “We should, we should go back into my room, my bed is bigger and it's not... not next to Dimitri's.” They both chuckled, and hurried just down the hall.

  They were barely through the door when Sylvain kicked it closed, grabbing Felix around the waist and shoving him against the wall with a grunt. Felix’s chest was pinned to the wallpaper and he was highly aware of Sylvain grinding against him from behind. He let out a breathy moan, knees already going weak from the deliberate show of strength.

  “Now. I said yes to you, are you saying yes to me?” Sylvain growled in Felix’s ear, and the smaller man swallowed in anticipation. He knew he could turn Sylvain around if he wanted and pin the hunter to the wall in the same position but with one flushed cheek against the wood and a boner on the way, he didn’t. He decided that for once, it would be too much fun letting himself go and be dominated by Sylvain. He felt like he needed this tonight. He needed someone else to be in control. To relinquish his self control over to Sylvain and let him be responsible. He trusted Sylvain to look after him. He nodded, eyelashes fluttering.

  “I am. I'm saying yes to this.”

  “I didn’t ask you to speak, Felix.” Felix felt a full body shudder go through him as Sylvain spun him around, back now to the wall and he positively whimpered as Sylvain’s hands clasped the back of his thighs, hitching him up so they were nose to nose. “You say yes now, and I'm not going to hold back. I'm going to do all the things I've wished over the years I could do to you when we finally got back to somewhere we weren't surrounded, and where we have a bed.” That time Felix did whimper, and Sylvain’s lips were on his, the kiss bruisingly hard but so damn good.

  “Sylvain-” he whimpered into the kiss before Sylvain bit his bottom lip roughly, their eyes meeting and Sylvain’s eyes are blown with lust.

  “You tell me now at any point, and I will stop, you hear me? Nod so I know you heard me. You say no, and I will stop. Instantly.” Felix nodded obediently as Sylvain turned around, sweeping him across the room before dropping Felix onto the bed. “Take that shirt off for me angel, I wanna see you.” he purred the word angel, it verging on a prayer and Felix felt his heart race so much that his jaw dropped open slightly, and his fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, undoing it as fast as he could.

  “Good boy.” Sylvain whispered against his skin, fingers trailing along Felix’s jaw line and tilting his head up, lips now brushing over Felix’s skin, a tiny whimper escaping the archangel. As he kissed down the column of Felix’s throat, his fingers danced across the slimmer man's collarbone, pushing the shirt down and off. His other hand was in Felix’s hair, stroking lowly before giving it a tug, pulling his head back to expose his throat, nuzzling at his shoulder and pulse point, teeth grazing the surface. Felix’s breath was coming in short gasps as Sylvain’s other hand moved up his back, fingers pressing into the muscles either side of his spine before his hand came to rest between his shoulder blades, digging his nails in slightly. He felt the outline of some scars on Felix's back he traced with his fingers, tickling them almost. Sylvain raised his head from where he was sucking a dark mark into Felix’s skin and he smiled, removing his hand from Felix’s back, placing both hands on his hips. He sat back, lifting him up a little, before dropping Felix into his lap.

  “You're beautiful, so beautiful,” Felix bit his lip slightly as Sylvain complimented him, eyes hooding until he felt Sylvain’s thumb on his chin. “Nah uh, I wanna hear every noise you make.” Felix released his lip with a small uh huh noise, paying full attention again to what was happening. “There we go.” Sylvain approved, going back to running his hands over the shirtless man in his lap. “I think you're wearing entirely too many clothes.”

Felix was quick to do as he was told, fingers fumbling as he clicked his belt off, jeans and boxers dropping to his ankles from where he kicked them into the corner of the room in a crumpled heap. He sat back onto Sylvain's lap, and his hands moved instantly from Felix's hips to his thighs, calloused thumbs brushing over the soft inner skin and Felix gasped, wanting more of that kind of touch.

  “Oh Felix... the amount of things I would love to do to you right now. You're so perfect. And all just for me. Now Felix, listen to me, I want you to not come. Not until I say so, okay? Can you do that for me sweetie? ” Felix nodded, flushing a little at the term of endearment Sylvain used. Of course he could do that, it was a simple instruction, shouldn’t be too har-

His thought was cut off as he felt Sylvain’s large hand wrap around his erection, squeezing softly and slowly dragging up the shaft. Sylvain knew Felix was a complete size queen, he'd learnt this from their escapades in the tents. Felix changed his mind and decided that now it wasn’t such a simple instruction, in fact it was going to be a very, very hard instruction to follow indeed. Felix’s thighs quivered and he couldn’t help but let his hips twitch up into the touch, only to be given a soft growl from Sylvain.

  “Hey, still now Felix. C'mon, be good for me.” Sylvain's voice was a gentle purr, and Felix couldn't help but let out a whimper. Sylvain kept his pace so slow, his grip so firm that soon Felix was all over quivering, precome leaking over the untouched head and he needed something more, more friction, more touching. He licked his lips before speaking.

  “Sylvain, please, t-touch the head, I need - nnnggghhhhh…” he felt a shudder go through his spine, as Sylvain obliged to the begging and he let out a punched moan. He wasn't usually one to beg, in fact in all their encounters he couldn't remember a time where he'd actually been vocal. But that was because he'd never had the chance. What Sylvain didn't know, but was about to learn, was that Felix could be so very talkative during sex. “Ye-yes... “ he tipped his head back, keeping his hips as still as he could, more words bubbling to the surface. “More, please, want more, want you to fuck me Sylvain.” The words rolled off his tongue as easy as one two three and Sylvain laughed breathily, still nosing around his neck

  “Oh, I’ll get there angel, don’t you worry about that.” his tone was soft and Felix nodded again. He knew Sylvain would do - he wouldn’t leave him hanging, no way. After all the other times they’d been together, he knew Sylvain wouldn't turn down the chance to fuck him. Sylvain was impressed by Felix. He'd never heard him lose control like this before, never had hi so pliable in his hands. He enjoyed this.

Sylvain’s hand then began to drift down, between Felix’s thighs until his finger brushed Felix’s hole, making the smaller man shiver. Sylvain purred, nipping at Felix’s earlobe.

  “I need to get up, I need to get the vulnerary. I won't go in dry. And I need to strip.” Sylvain was right. Felix didn’t want him to stop touching him though, but he had to concede. He moved quickly, watching Sylvain step out of his clothes with ease and open a drawer, pulling out a bottle of high strength vulnerary. He sat back down, pulling Felix back into his lap. “Perfect. Thank you angel.” Felix heard the lid of the bottle pop and the anticipation in him grew. Sylvain’s finger began to circle before pushing in slowly, watching the way Felix’s back arched slightly as he did, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed down words. “Fuck you’re so tight Felix, gonna really have to work to get you loose enough for me aren’t I.” Sylvain hummed, finger now fully buried in Felix, keeping it still as the swordsman quivered around him. Felix didn’t want Sylvain to really work him, well no, he did, but he didn’t know if he could take Sylvain really working him. His blush was growing deeper, creeping down his neck and chest. He wasn't good at receiving dirty talk, especially from Sylvain, It made him feel dirty, which was the entire point, and he did love it, but god it made him feel embarrassed. A good kind of embarrassed.

Painfully slowly, Sylvain pulled his finger down, nearly all the way out of Felix before pushing it back in, and Felix let out a whine, rolling his hips back against Sylvain, who this time didn’t tell him to be still. Sylvain did this a few more times before pulling his finger all the way out before adding a second beside it, slowly inserting them again, humming in pleasure as Felix rolled his hips backwards again, pushing the fingers deeper into himself.

  “Good boy,” Sylvain’s praise made Felix’s hips stutter as he moved them before he reset his rhythm. “Such a good boy for me.” Felix nodded, a murmur of yeah, I am leaving his lips and he bucked hard as Sylvain crooked his fingers inside him, brushing his prostate.

  “Fu-UCK.” he cried out, toes curling in pleasure, back arching forward against Sylvain’s chest who just snickered, free hand travelling up Felix’s spine, all the way from the small off of his back. He felt another few scars and his fingers skittered around them, delicately feeling up Felix's back before dragging his hand back down, nails digging in.

Felix made a choked sound, eyes shutting tightly and he rocked himself back against Sylvain’s hand, fingers brushing him every time as he felt his nerves light on fire through the stimulation on his prostate. “Fuck, fuck, Sylvain, nnghh… Sylvain oh fuck,” he was rambling, the pleasure going to his head and only making him slip further into the foggy headspace where he submitted to Sylvain as wholly as he could. He'd not let himself go like this before. Let himself slip so far down into that headspace but now he was there it was delicious. It was blissful. He let all the worries he had, the weight of responsibilities slip from his shoulders. “Faaaaaa… need… need more…” he was grasping at Sylvain now, desperate and needy. Sylvain obliged, a third finger slipping easily into him as Felix finally started to properly relax against him.

  “You relaxing now sweetheart? You ready for me?”

  “Yes, yes Sylvain, wanna be fucked, want you to fuck me, please, oh fuck,” he buried his face in Sylvain’s neck, still rocking himself on Sylvain’s fingers, demanding more from him as Sylvain nipped his neck right over his pulse.

  “Who am I to deny my boy huh? Hands and knees.”

Felix scrabbled to get onto the bed on all fours, propping himself up on his elbows, Sylvain resting his hands on his lower back. The warm weight of them made Felix calm his breathing and stop panicking about it. That, and the way Sylvain had called him my boy. He liked the possessive sound of that.

  “Relax.” Sylvain whispered as he ghosted kisses along Felix’s spine and up towards his shoulders, almost as a massage. “Good boy.” his voice was muffled by Felix's back, and Felix moaned again, long and low. Sylvain put both hands down on Felix's hips, holding him still as his own hips shifted slightly and Felix could feel him pressing against his entrance. “Be still angel, I wanna fill you slowly.” Sylvain warned and Felix let out a frustrated huff. Sylvain rolled his eyes at Felix’s impatience and grabbed a fistful of his hair. “Patience, sweetie.” Felix squirmed , whining sweetly. He hadn’t thought something could ever feel this damn good but oh fuck it did. He felt Sylvain’s hips finally be flush against his ass and he clenched slightly, pleased with the responding hiss he got from Sylvain.

Sylvain began to relinquish his grip on Felix's hair, fingers dragging through the softness of it and burying his fingers again in Felix’s dark locks for a second before he drew his hand back, palm pressing on the nape of his neck, fingers splaying out and pushing down till Felix’s chest was flat on the sheets. He pulled out, nearly all the way before pushing back in hard, causing Felix to let out a groan that rumbled in his chest.

  “Fuck, Felix, you feel so good.” Normally hearing Sylvain say his name was a huge turn on in itself but this time it was different. It was more primal almost. If he had been a saint, he would have called it a prayer. “Can my boy control himself huh?” Sylvain teased, grabbing Felix's slim hip tighter. “Of course you can, you're a good boy aren't you.” Sylvain’s praise made him swallow thickly and nudge his hips backwards in want for more.

Sylvain took note and started to rock in and out of Felix slowly, hands clamped down, one on his neck, the other on his hip. As Felix’s whines got higher and more frequent Sylvain began to thrust in harder, each stroke grazing his prostate. As Felix whimpered again, Sylvain's grip changed again, grabbing Felix's hair, giving it a tug so he was looking up and Sylvain could just about see his face as he established a rough rhythm, each thrust causing Felix’s face to light up, eyes zoning out in pure pleasure. Felix was muttering words that Sylvain could barely make out, but some sounded like more, and please, alongside a stammered Sylvain. Hearing his own name in Felix's mouth, whilst in complete heaven was just more than enough for him and he dropped his grip on Felix's hair, reaching underneath him to palm his cock quickly, and with purpose.

  “Come.” he ordered as the fire in his own lower stomach heightened enough for him to explode inside Felix, whole body twitching with the intensity. He noticed Felix’s body shaking as he did and he pressed his forehead in the dip between his shoulder blades, ears full with the sound of Felix's heavy breathing and the sheets beneath them rustling. He took a second to let himself settle before he pulled out and rolled to the side, pulling Felix down onto his chest, caressing his hair, combing his fingers through it.

  “Mm... sticky.” Felix complained, nuzzling against Sylvain's chest, not wanting to move to get cleaned up, but at the same time he felt almost gross, covered in sweat and jizz, Sylvain shushed him, thumb brushing Felix's bottom lip.

  “We can clean up in a minute. Just... relax. Breathe, Settle back down. You need to rest.” He knew what Felix would probably be feeling, and he needed to calm down after all that. It was intense, really intense, and he didn't want Felix to push himself too far too quickly. “Just lay with me.” Felix mumbled in acceptance and closed his eyes, drowsiness creeping in. He wanted to sleep.

  “Tired.” Felix purred, draping an arm over Sylvain's midriff. Sylvain shushed him again, pulling a blanket up over them both.

  “Sleep then. I'll be here. I'll always be here.” 

Chapter Text

Year 1190

* Every cell in my body was telling me that he was my happily ever after – C.J. English, Affairytale *

Sylvain's fingers glided through Felix's hair, tucking it into a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck. Felix closed his eyes and hummed in contentment, leaning back into Sylvain's hands. Sylvain just chuckled and leant down to kiss Felix's on the forehead before patting his shoulders, signalling he was done. They'd been together as a proper couple for five years now, they barely needed to speak to one another to get their message across. It came in handy for the last few battles of the war, until they won and it was all over. That took them a while to get used to, it being all over. The lack of constant needing to prepare took Felix longer to adjust to than Sylvain. He stayed up long nights polishing and sharpening swords, cleaning and patching both his and Sylvain's armour. He even ended up in the training grounds, destroying dummies and then putting them haphazardly back together with glue and loose stitches. Sylvain had gone to fetch him those nights, a lazy arm around Felix's waist to draw him slowly away from the strict regime he'd set himself when they'd needed it. Bed time, he'd whispered every night, kissing Felix's cheek, drawing him back to their now shared room. Now, he finally accepted the fact it was over. They weren't at war any more. They weren't going to lose each other without a moment's notice.

Sylvain crossed the room in a few short strides and flicked the record player on, moving the stylus onto the grooved surface of the record and beamed when the music filled the room. Felix rolled his eyes as he was swept into Sylvain's arms and spun delicately around the room, pulled close against Sylvain's chest, so close he could feel his heartbeat through their thin pyjama shirts, and smell his shampoo from the night before. He used to find it almost offensive how strong the shampoo's scent was, but now it smelt like home. It was funny, he thought, that a person was a home, not a place. He'd never realised people could be a home. Home to him was always the Fraldarius manor, but then again that's because it was the only home he ever had. It never felt like home, not like this, nothing ever made him feel the way that Sylvain did. Nothing else had ever settled the raging unrest in his heart like Sylvain did. He laid his head on Sylvain's chest as they swayed around the room, just letting himself breathe for a while. He'd been feeling restless recently, staying in one place for so long wasn't what he was used to. He wanted to travel, to see more of the world, he decided. They'd seen so much of Fodlan during the war, but it had all been in tatters or on fire, and he wanted to see things now. See them rebuilt in their former glory or better, glittering glass windows in all the houses, markets full of ripe fruits and fragrant teas. Thinking about it reminded him of back in their childhood, the things Sylvain used to read, and the books he would go on about constantly. He'd wanted to travel the world one day, to see all the sights, taste all the food.

  “Hey, Sylvain?” Felix looked up, his nose bumping against Sylvain's jaw.

  “Yes?” Sylvain drew the word out in a drawl as he spun Felix out at arm's length before pushing him back onto the bed and flopping down beside him, tucking loose strands of hair behind his ear.

  “Let's... travel. The war's over. We don't need to stay here. As a child you were always mentioning these faraway lands, exotic foods, glorious weather... why not go now?” He propped himself up on one elbow, watching Sylvain's face carefully. “Of course if you've decided you don't want to do that any more that's fine. It's just,” he paused to collect his thoughts, not letting his mouth run ahead of his brain. “there's nothing to stay here for. The war is over, the rulers are back where they should be, we don't need to be here. We can... we can just go.” He reached under the bed for a book, pulling it out and laying it down between them. “You gave me this, years ago, told me to read it, to learn about the other places in the world and see what I thought, if I would still say it was boring.” Sylvain ran his fingers over the faded gold print on the front of the book, smiling as he recognised the book from his own library.

  “Heh, yeah I did. I didn't think you'd kept it all these years...” He flipped it open, surprised to find thin woven bookmarks slotted into certain pages, light charcoal lines under certain things and around some of the images.

  “Those are the things I thought looked interesting. Some places of history, some of progression. There's some coliseums and war sites, but also a museum or two full of art. Markets too, the biggest most popular ones that go on all night and never stop trading.” He pointed at one place in particular. The image showed a small shack on a cliff side, overlooking an ocean. “They call it the Miracle House. Things... happen there. Magical things. I don't believe in that sort of stuff but I know you do so-” he was cut off as Sylvain kissed him, pushing his hand down flat on the book between them as he did to not risk bending any pages.

  “It sounds wonderful. Magical, I can't think of anything I would like more than to travel the world with you, Felix Fraldarius-Gautier.” Felix flushed pink to his ears as Sylvain used his full name. He'd almost forgotten they'd double barrelled their surnames when they were married a few years before atop of the Goddess Tower. No one used their surnames these days, not since they relinquished their holds on the family estates.

  “Then let's pack. We can take two horses, find a ferry across the ocean. Oh, and we will stop at the market to see if we can find one of those new camera things people are raving about.” Sylvain laughed at Felix and the way he sounded so awkward discussing new technology. It was endearing though, and he could listen to it forever.

~*~

Snow was sticking to their windows, a fire crackling heartily in the hearth, bathing the room in light and warmth. Laying heavy in Sylvain's lap was a photo album, packed to the brim with small images in black and white at first, eventually graduating to colour. Each of them had either he or Felix in, ageing gracefully through the years and their travels coming back round in circle to come home to Fodlan, Fhirdad in particular. Dimitri was still king when they returned and he accepted them with open arms and large spreads of food they'd not tasted in decades. It took them all back to when they were kids and they'd chatted about their travels, laughing about antics such as Sylvain falling out of trees attempting to reach the highest fruit and Felix knocking a wasp's next out of the guttering in their house and being chased for three days by some very angry insects. Dimitri gave them a room in the castle as well, telling them they could live there as long as they wanted, he was glad to have them back. They accepted his offer, deciding it was easier than trying to find somewhere for themselves, and it was always warm and bright inside the royal palace.

  “Remember this, Fe?” Sylvain's voice was slow and marred with age, but it was still distinctly him, and it woke Felix who had been dozing leaning against his side.

  “Hm? Oh, our vow renewal. Of course I remember that.” The photo was them on a beach underneath an arch of flowers, hands clasped together. They'd renewed their wedding vows five years after taking them because the beach was just too pretty to not do it on. It was one of Sylvain's favourite photos, because Felix's smile was so candid and real, something rarely captured in photos. Sylvain closed the album and let it stay in his lap, the familiar weight comforting to him. He tried to look through it nearly every night, never tiring of looking at Felix's happy face on beaches, up mountains, or trying various new things. He was old, but his memory was solid, but he didn't want to risk the images vanishing from him. Forgetting Felix would be the most heartbreaking thing he would ever have to bear. Night was closing in outside, and Felix was asleep beside him again. He spent a lot of time asleep these days. Sylvain knew what that meant, and he draped an arm around his shoulder, holding him close. He knew exactly what it meant. As a clock in the hall chimed eleven, Sylvain too let sleep take hold of him, his dreams whisking him back off to the sunny isles to the south where they'd discovered so much about the world and themselves in the process, where they'd fallen in love over and over again, never once regretting their choice take on the epic quest.

In the morning, when a maid knocked on their door, no one answered, and Dimitri was summoned down. He knew what he was going to see when he spotted them both on the sofa together in front of the dead fire, neither turning to look at who was entering the room. They'd made a promise, he knew about that, they'd told him about it one night over coffee in the parlour. Childhood friends who wouldn't die without the other. It seemed the universe had heard the promise, taken it to heart and made it true. Dimitri knew in his heart that one couldn't have lived without the other anyway.

fin