Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cyril is the one to find it, during one of the periodic sweeps he would do of Rhea's room. He can only really describe it as a weird and glowing stone, so Byleth and the rest of them head up to the Archbishop's room to investigate. 

Weird and glowing is right. The stone is in what looks like a secret nook in the wall; Cyril said he had stumbled upon it when dusting. It is propped up on some kind of stand, and it looks more like a tombstone than anything else. There's some sort of message on the front in a language long since understood or recognized. Felix is immediately afraid of it. 

"Whatever this is, I don't like it," Annette says, speaking aloud what they are all feeling. Dimitri takes a hesitant step forward. 

"What does it say?" He asks no one in particular. Byleth narrows her eerie green eyes; in the strange light of the stone, they seem to glow in the same weird way.

She opens her mouth and speaks, but the voice doesn't sound like hers, and he doesn't understand any of the words. 

There's a charged silence after she speaks. Mercedes begins to say, "Um, Professor...?" But then the stone begins to glow even more, a harsh white light that hurts to look at. Felix can hear a strange humming noise, but for some reason he isn't sure if it's real or not.

Ashe says, "It's kind of... beautiful." It is. The light has dimmed, or maybe he's just getting used to it. There's definitely some kind of humming coming from it.

Ingrid takes a step towards it. Felix understands why. The stone seems to be drawing them in. 

"Be careful." Dimitri's sharp voice cuts through the haze in Felix's head. He blinks a few times, and he sees Dimitri take a step in front of Ingrid and reach out his arm.

In retrospect, he realized that Dimitri had just put an arm out to stop Ingrid from getting closer. But as it happens, all Felix sees is Dimitri reaching out towards the glowing stone, and he moves without thinking, reaching out to try and grab Dimitri's arm.

Except Dimitri grabs Ingrid and pulls back, and Felix keeps hurtling forward with no one to block his path, and he can't stop himself from reaching out a hand to steady himself— 

The tablet pulses, and Felix can hear it in his brain, and his arm reaches out as if he's in a dream.

Dimitri calls his name. Felix turns his head just in time to see his wide, scared eye as he lunges forward to try and grab him. His fingers are seconds away from Felix's sleeve— 

But his hand makes contact with the stone first. Dimitri calls his name again, but it sounds as if it comes from far away. It feels even more like a dream now. Haze settles over him, and everything is slowed down, and then he feels— 

Nothing. For a few horrible seconds that stretch like centuries, he feels nothing, as if everything that is not him ceases to exist. He can’t tell if his eyes are open or closed. In the distance, or maybe right in front of him, or maybe not there at all, he sees a mirror, but his reflection is strange; he’s dressed in odd clothes that Felix doesn't recognize.

As the world materializes again, he's no longer able to comprehend how it felt, thank the goddess. He opens his eyes, but it takes him a while for him to understand what he's seeing.

He's on the floor. His head is absolutely killing him. Every muscle in his body aches. It feels like he's been folded in half a couple of times. There is a lot of chatter in the background and strange, unnatural laughter.

And right in his line of vision is Dimitri, hovering over him looking concerned. It should be reassuring — except every one of Felix's instincts is screaming wrong at him, and Dimitri— 

Dimitri has both of his eyes. 

A universe away, in the bedroom of the Archbishop of Garreg Mach, the mist clears away to reveal… Felix?

But he's... different. His hair is in a bun on top of his head, and he's wearing strange clothing, and no swords at all. He stumbles backward and falls on his ass. He looks up at the crowd gathered around him and frowns.

Tentatively, Ingrid says, "Felix?" 

"Yeah? What the hell happened?" He looks around at everyone. "And why the hell are you all dressed like you're going to a Renaissance Faire?"

Chapter Text

By all accounts, Felix is having a really shitty day. 

He'd slept through his alarm, dropped his phone in a fucking puddle, and had sent his professor the file with his and Dimitri's vacation photos instead of his presentation. Dimitri had promised Felix a nice dinner to make up for his shitty day (and then, when Felix had looked maybe a bit too apprehensive, clarified that they'd be ordering take out), and just as they'd been about to order — 

Well, Felix doesn't know what the fuck happened. All he knows is that one minute they'd been in the living room, and Dimitri had been giving him a look that made Felix think they were going to eat dinner later than anticipated, and now — 

He groans as he comes to. His head is pounding. 

"Did somebody fucking hit me?" 

When he opens his eyes he sees Dimitri, except he's... different. He has an eye patch over his right eye, and he's wearing armor and a blue cape, a lance in his hands. But that's not the thing that stands out the most.

It's the way he's looking at Felix. It's something far worse than just anger; it's hatred . Dimitri has never looked at him like that. Dimitri has never looked at anyone like that. Beside him is a woman who Felix is pretty sure is the fucking archbishop, although why she's here he has no idea. Although he's not entirely sure where the hell here is , anyway. All he knows is that it's dark and damp, his fucking head hurts, and his hands are tied to a chair. He wonders if he had accidentally taken one of Sylvain’s edibles again and was having some kind of horrible trip.

"Dimitri," Felix says carefully. "What is going on?"

Dimitri moves faster than Felix has ever seen, and suddenly he is looming over him, his lance pressed to Felix's neck. He says, very low, "What did you do to him?"

Panic thrums through him. He says, "To who?"

The lance bites harder into his neck. Felix looks into his eyes and sees only vitriol, and he thinks: I am going to die here.

The archbishop says, "Dimitri." Dimitri moves the lance away from Felix's neck, but then he says, "Answer our questions truthfully and I will grant you a quick death, but lie to me and I can't promise I will be merciful."

Felix swallows. His mouth is very dry. "Whatever you think is going on, we can figure it out."

Dimitri ignores this. "What is your name?"

"You know my name."

"Answer the questions if you want to live.”

Felix takes a breath. "My name is Felix Hugo Fraldarius."

Something dark and incredibly dangerous crosses Dimitri's face, and the hand on his lance tightens. He says, "Lie to me again and I will remove your head from your shoulders." 

Felix is still terrified and convinced he's going to die at any second, but now he's also getting annoyed. "What do you want me to say? What can I do to make you believe me? I am Felix Hugo Fraldarius. You are Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. We have known each other for our entire lives, Dimitri, I have a brother named Glenn, your father and mine were best friends, I know you!" Dimitri is shaking his head. "I know everything about you, I know what you're afraid of, I know what you dream of, I was there when you lost your father, I was there when we almost lost Dedue and you couldn't sleep for days —" 

"What are these lies —" 

"Dimitri," Felix says, leaning forward to look Dimitri in his — eye. He doesn't know what is going on, or if he's having some sort of horrible dream, or hallucination, or what — but he knows Dimitri. No matter what, he knows Dimitri. "You know me. I know you. The first phone you accidentally snapped in half, the first time we stole booze from my father and you threw up all over Ingrid, the first time you kissed me —" 

Dimitri suddenly gapes at him like a fish. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out, and then he spins around on his heel and leaves. The woman leaves too, leaving Felix alone and tied to the chair. He's confused, he's scared, and he's worried about Dimitri. He goes over the past few days; he’d been fine, Felix is pretty sure, and he’s been taking his medication properly, so then what was going on?

A few minutes later the woman comes back. She has a glass of water in her hands; as she gets closer to Felix, he can see that it definitely is Archbishop Byleth.

"I'm going to untie one of your hands," she says. "But if you try to attack me, you will regret it."

What the fuck is up with these people? "I'm not going to fucking attack you," he says, peevishly. She unties his hand and he drinks the water down gratefully.

"Do you know who I am?" 

Felix finishes his water before he answers. "You're the archbishop."

Byleth's blank face doesn't portray much emotion, but something like surprise flickers briefly across it. "Am I?"

Felix rubs at his face with his free hand. He doesn't know what that means. "What the hell is going on? Where am I?" 

"You're in the dungeons of Garreg Mach."

Felix gapes. "How the hell did I end up here? I was at home."

"Why don't you tell me what happened?'

"What about Dimitri?" Felix asks. "Is he okay?"

"You seem worried about him." 

Felix rolls his eyes. "Of course I'm worried about him, he's my boyfriend ." 

Byleth's eyebrows go up. It's the most emotion he's seen from her.

"Why don't you tell me what happened, Felix?"

He does. He tells her how he was at home, and Dimitri was getting dinner, and they were going to sit down and watch the lacrosse game on television— 

"On what?" 

Felix looks at her weirdly. "Television?"

Byleth shakes her head. "I don't know what that means. Or the other word. La-cross."

"What is that supposed to mean? What fucking year are you living in?"

Byleth says, without any hint of irony, "Imperial year 1186." Felix snorts.

"No, seriously."

"I am being serious. What year do you think it is, Felix?"

Felix shakes his head. Now he knows this is some kind of bad trip. "What are you people playing at? Did Sylvain spike my drink or something?"

"What happened after that?" 

Felix hesitates. "Uh... hard to describe." He tries his best, though; about the lights and the pain, and the compression, and the emptiness, and the weird reflection of himself, until he opened his eyes and found himself here.

Byleth seems to consider this. Then she says, "I'd like to ask you once again what year you think it is, Felix."

Felix sighs, but this time he answers. "It’s 2021.”

Byleth considers this for a minute. Then, to his surprise, she unties his other hand.

"Come with me," she says, and he really doesn't have any other options.

Byleth rounds a bunch of people up and they all meet in the council room at Garreg Mach. It isn't until everyone is gathered around the table that Felix realizes he knows almost all of them.

There's Sylvain and Ingrid, although her hair is shorter. Annette is sitting with Ashe, who has a beautiful bow strapped to his back. Mercedes is next to Dorothea, and he can see a few other Garreg Mach employees as well. Dimitri doesn't sit, just stands in the back by the door with his arms crossed. Ever close by his side is Dedue.

Every person in the room is staring at him.

Byleth says, "Do you remember when Solon opened that rip in the world? He referred to it as the void. Something outside of our world."

A man with green hair who Felix had thought was asleep looks up and says, "You're not seriously talking about what I think you're talking about."

"Which is?" Annette asks.

The guy yawns and then says, “If Solon sent the Professor to a void outside of the world, that means that there are things that exist outside of the world that we know. And if that's true... Well, if that's true, who knows what else could be true? There are no limits.”

Sylvain says, "Is anyone else confused?" Felix knows him well enough to know he probably isn't; everything is an act with Sylvain.

"I'd have to run some tests on this Felix,” the green haired guy says, ignoring Sylvain. 

Before Felix has a chance to object to this Professor Hanneman interjects. "Researching into his blood should give us some answers —”

"Hang the fuck on," Felix says, but before anyone can say anything else, Dimitri says, "Professor." As soon as he speaks, everyone falls immediately silent. “What are you trying to say?” 

Byleth turns her eerie gaze to Felix. "I believe this is Felix, just from a different world. I believe that when our Felix touched the tablet, somehow he drew this Felix into our world."

Silence falls over the room, until eventually Ingrid says, very tentatively, “Professor… that can't be possible."

"I don't know," Annette says. "So many impossible things have happened. I guess this is just another to add to the list."

" Hang the fuck on,” Felix says again, banging the table with his fists. "I answered your questions, now you answer mine," he says to Byleth. “What the fuck is going on?"

"It is 1186. We are at war with the Empire.”

Felix waits for the other shoe to drop. It doesn't. He looks around at these people that he's known his whole life, all who look at him like they don't know or trust him, and he looks at the number of weapons on them, and the scars and wounds and Dimitri's eye patch. Sometimes the only answer is the strangest.

Dimitri speaks again, his voice hard and authoritative. It's... kind of hot. "So how do we get my— our Felix back?"

Everyone turns back to look at Felix once again.

The tablet isn't glowing. Felix has gathered that this is a bad thing. Byleth speaks some weird words, and nothing happens.

Dimitri's fists are clenched. Felix looks between him and the tablet and walks over to it.

"So you said he just — touched it?" Dimitri's eyes bore into Felix's skull as he reaches out — 

Nothing happens. The stone is cold beneath his hand, but it just feels like a normal stone. He meets Dimitri's eye. He wonders how he lost it. 

Dimitri's gaze is hard, but Felix sees what he's hiding beneath the surface: fear. Dimitri has been separated from his Felix, and he's freaking the hell out.

He’s not the only one. For the first time, the gravity of the situation settles over Felix. It had been too unbelievable at first to really consider it, but now the novelty is wearing off and he's realizing that this isn't going away. He's stuck here, during a war, and his Dimitri is back at home. Worried and scared and not knowing what was going on.

Unless — 

Everyone seems to come to the same conclusion at the same time. Felix says, "Do you think —” At the same time as Dimitri says, "Could m — our Felix have simply… switched places?"

Chapter Text

Dimitri is trying to placate him. His hands are spread, big blue eye(s) wide, voice low and calm. Felix can't blame him, given that he's backed him into a corner at sword point. 

"Felix—” 

Felix brandishes his sword again. "What the fuck is going on?” He looks around briefly, but he doesn't want to take his eyes off... whoever this Dimitri imposter is. "Where are we?" 

"We're at home. Felix, where did you even get that? What's going on?" 

Felix narrows his eyes. His head is pounding, and his memory of what happened is hazy. He remembers Dimitri, and the Professor, and that strange tablet she had activated— he had touched it, and then—

He had ended up here, in front of this strange Dimitri. He brandishes the sword a little at Dimitri and says, "Tell me what happened.” 

His voice is hard and severe, and Dimitri must just think it easier to go along with it, because he answers. "We were about to sit down to watch the game when there was this… bright light. I don't even know where it came from. One minute everything was normal, and then it was suddenly bright. I had to block my eyes.” He shakes his head. "When the light faded, everything was normal, except you were dressed like that." He gestures at Felix. "Felix, please put down the sword. Where did you even get that? It doesn’t look like one of yours."

Felix puts the sword down, but he doesn't put it away. His brain is working overtime, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. He had touched that strange tablet and ended up here, and if this strange Dimitri could be believed (which Felix couldn't be certain of, at this point) then there was some other Felix, as well. If Felix was here, where was the other Felix? 

Ugh, this was impossible. 

But Felix had seen his professor disappear into a rip in the world, had seen people who could steal someone else's face. He'd seen the boy he'd loved more than anyone else become someone he didn't recognize. He'd seen his brother leave and not come back, and he’d seen his father’s lifeless eyes. Who was Felix to say what was impossible anymore?

"I'm not supposed to be here." 

Dimitri takes a careful step closer. "What do you mean?" 

"Something... happened," Felix says, mind still reeling. "I don't understand, exactly, but if I’m right then—”

He's so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice Dimitri come closer until he feels a big hand cup the side of his face. Felix freezes, heart clenching uncomfortably in his chest as Dimitri gazes at him in concern. His hands are soft, softer than Felix would have (has) imagined. The softness of a Dimitri who has not been made to hold a lance since birth.

"Did you hit your head?" He says softly, thumb rubbing on Felix's cheek. His hand traces gently over Felix's head, searching for a bump. Felix knows that this isn't his Dimitri, that if his theory is correct he is so unbelievably far from home— but it looks like Dimitri, and for the first time Felix thinks that maybe this is just some kind of dream. 

Except there is Dimitri with two eyes, and smooth hands, and all the strange machines in the room that Felix doesn't recognize. So even if this looks like one of his deepest fantasies that he refuses to acknowledge, he needs to be careful.

It isn't until Dimitri leans forward and gently presses his lips to Felix's temple that he is shocked into movement. He jerks away, stumbling back and into the couch. It hits the back of his legs, but his momentum keeps him going. He flips over the back; Dimitri jumps away as Felix's sword swings up, but Felix has trained enough that even getting knocked off his feet isn't enough to completely destabilize him. His training kicks in, but as he's righting himself, his sword accidentally slices into the couch.

Except that not enough, because the fucking world is out to get him, and so as the sword makes contact with the couch—

His fucking Crest activates, and he slices clean through it. 

He stands up. Dimitri is on the other side of the room, staring slack-jawed at the scene before him. Felix clears his throat, very aware of the fact that Dimitri had just kissed him and Felix had reacted by slicing his couch in half. "Sorry," he says weakly. It seems startlingly inadequate in the face of the ripped couch.

Dimitri says, "What was that?” 

"I didn't mean to— it just happens—" 

"No, Felix, that—” He gestures at the area. He looks a little pale.

"My Crest?” Felix says.

Dimitri's eyes are wide, and for the first time, he's looking at Felix like he doesn't know him.

"You need to listen to me," Felix says, because the way Dimitri is looking at him makes him think that maybe now he'll listen. "I'm not who you think I am."

Dimitri stares at him warily. Felix can see the suspicion in his eyes; good. They're getting somewhere.

"You have a Crest," Dimitri says evenly. Felix wonders why he's so caught up on that, but he just nods.

Dimitri shakes his head sharply, never taking his eyes off of Felix. "Felix doesn't have a Crest," Dimitri says.

"Your Felix may not have a Crest," Felix says. "I do.”

"What does that mean?” Dimitri's voice is sharper now, and his stance is different too. Felix hadn't even realized that Dimitri had tried to make himself smaller and less intimidating until he moved up to his full height. He is no longer on Felix's side. A king in every life. "My name is Felix Fraldarius. But I'm not— I'm not from here. I don't even know where here is. But I— where I'm from, something happened. I don't know what. Some weird magic, and I ended up here. I think maybe I switched places with the Felix you know."

Dimitri has the look of a man who is being forced to admit that the most unbelievable explanation is the only one. "Which means my Felix is where?"

"Garreg Mach. 1186. We're at war against the Empire, fighting under the Rightful King of Faerghus, King Dimitri, the first of his name.”  

The overly formal words feel clunky in his mouth, but it's worth it to see the way Dimitri's eyes widen.

"The monarchy was ended long ago. A Blaiddyd hasn't sat on the throne in centuries,” Dimitri says carefully.

"Maybe not in your world," Felix says. "But in mine, we're fighting to get your throne back."

Dimitri's nostrils flare slightly. "So I'm supposed to believe that there's another world out there that looks just like this one, with another Felix and Dimitri, and you somehow switched places?”

Felix shrugs. "I know it's hard to believe. But you saw the light. And you saw my Crest. So how else are you going to explain that?"

Dimitri moves, but he doesn't do anything threatening, so Felix just watches him as he heads over to an armchair and slumps down into it. "How did this happen? Tell me everything.”

He seems willing to listen, which is a good sign. Felix sits down on the sliced couch across from Dimitri and does his best to explain. He tries to be as brief as possible, but Dimitri has an annoying amount of questions, wanting more context and information. Why was the war being fought? Was Felix on the front lines? Who else was fighting? 

He must have shown his displeasure somewhere around the tenth question, because Dimitri says, in the tone he uses whenever he is trying to be gentle but firm, "I'm sorry if these questions are grating on you, but my boyfriend is in a different universe fighting a war right now and I'd like to know a bit more information."

The word makes Felix pause. He remembers the gentle way Dimitri had kissed his forehead and the way he'd looked at him before. It was a look Felix was acutely familiar with, because it was the way Felix had looked at Dimitri when they were young. Like he had all the answers in the universe. It makes something twist uncomfortably in his chest when he thinks about it.

The way Dimitri looks now is making him feel some type of way, too, the worry etched on his face. What was his Dimitri doing? Was he worried, too? Things had been getting… better between them. They were good-adjacent. How was Dimitri taking this? Was he trying to fix the situation? Was he trying to get Felix back? Or was he focusing more on the war? Did he think beating Edelgard was more important?

A few months ago, maybe. But Dimitri wasn't the type to leave anyone behind. Not even Felix and his barbed heart.

"Your Felix won't be fighting," is what he says, desperate to get that concerned look off of Dimitri's face. "We're not so desperate nor cruel to put someone inexperienced and untrained on the front lines. He'll be perfectly safe."

This doesn't actually seem to make Dimitri any calmer. “So how do we get him back ?”

His eyes are so blue. Dimitri must have thought that Felix had avoided his gaze because he hated him, but the truth is Felix was just always too much of a coward to see which of Dimitri's faces would be staring back, the beast or the boy he'd loved, once upon a time.

He looks away. He doesn't want to see the look on Dimitri's face when he says, "I don't know."

Dimitri is visibly frustrated. "So what are we supposed to do?"

“I don't know!” Felix bites out, voice elevated. "I don't want to be here either! My friends are fighting a war , and unlike your boyfriend—” The word feels heavy in his mouth— "They're all fighting, and every goddamn minute I'm here is another minute I'm not there to help protect the people I love." His chest is tight at the thought of it. He'd just gotten Dimitri back. “I don't know how I got here, or how to get back, or—" He's starting to find it difficult to breathe. He takes a deep, heaving breath, and then another, and then another. Dimitri's eyebrows pinch together, and he takes a step closer to Felix. Felix takes a step back; he's afraid that if Dimitri touches him, then he will break apart completely.

"Felix—”

He’s in a completely different world with people who wore the faces of his friends, but didn't know him. Everyone he loved was fighting a war somewhere unreachable to him. If he ever got back, who knows what would have happened? 

But how is he even going to make it back? Will he just be stuck here until he dies, forever wondering about everyone he left behind?

There's a knock on the door. Dimitri swears under his breath. "I forgot I told him to come by."

Another knock, and a voice that Felix knew better than his own, even if he hadn't heard it in ten years, calls out, “Hurry up, this pizza is really hot."

Felix is moving towards the door before he's even aware of it, throwing it open to reveal—

Glenn, older, hair braided over his shoulder, holding two boxes. He is an inch or two shorter than Felix, and his eyebrows draw together as he gives Felix a once over. “The fuck are you wearing? Are you going to a Ren Faire?"

Felix stares at him; he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. Everything he’s faced today, from waking up in a world he didn’t know, to the uncomfortable realization that he’s far from home, to the gentle press of Dimitri’s lips to his forehead — this, on top of everything, is too much. This isn’t fair. 

Felix pushes past him and runs.

Chapter Text

They are still standing in the archbishop’s bedroom. Felix has never been here before, but it strikes him as a little extravagant. 

Dimitri and he make eye contact for a few brief, charged moments before he turns to the rest of the room and speaks in his kingly voice again. It's kind of inappropriately sexy. Surely he doesn't intend to lead the country like that. 

"We need to discover whatever we can about this tablet and the words on it. Start with the library in the Abyss. Anything you find that—”

"That won't be necessary," a voice says, and Felix recognizes it as Seteth from his time at Garreg Mach. He looks between Dimitri and Byleth and then he says, "Could we speak privately?" 

Dimitri nods and waves his hand dismissively. It's not like him. Between that, and the difference in his gaze, and the way he'd held a lance to Felix’s neck with steady hands, he's really starting to understand the full extent of where he is and how different this world is. This is a Dimitri he doesn't know.

Everyone clears out until only Dimitri, Byleth, Seteth, and himself remain. Seteth gives Felix an expectant look, but he crosses his arms.

"I got pulled into some new world and you want me to leave? Fuck that. I'm not going anywhere."

Seteth looks at him distastefully. "The similarities to our Felix are really quite remarkable." Felix is going to choose to take that as a compliment.

"He's right," Dimitri says. He no longer has his sexy king voice on. Now he just seems tired and scared. “He has a right to know." He doesn't say anything else, but that ends the conversation. Felix is allowed to stay; that is the power of a king. He isn't necessarily surprised at how easily Dimitri fits the role, but it is strange to see. 

Seteth takes a deep breath and then begins to explain. "I apologize for not speaking up earlier. I wanted to be sure that my suspicions were correct before I brought them forward."

Dimitri waves this away. "Please tell me all you know."

"I do not recognize the stone tablet, but I recognize the language. It is one I have not heard spoken for... many years. My understanding of it is... rusty. I had to do some studying to brush up, and then— well. Then I didn't want to believe it." Felix thinks this is all a little bit dramatic, and he wishes Seteth would jump ahead to the point.

"The language on that tablet was—” He pauses. Felix finds it impossible that he's not doing this on purpose for effect. "It was the language of the Nabateans."

Felix searches through years of history class and finds… well, not much. History had easily been one of his worst subjects. He remembers vaguely something about dragons, and the first people, and a war. It had something to do with the Church of Seiros, at least before the reform. The details are all a little fuzzy, honestly. He'd copied off of Ingrid for most of history.

"Rhea…” Seteth says slowly, “I fear that she became obsessed with finding a way to bring the progenitor god back." Now Felix is definitely confused. He hadn't been very good at religion, either. "The inscription on the stone tablet was— I'm not sure how to describe it. A prayer, or a spell. An incantation. It speaks of other worlds. An infinite number of them."

"What does the spell do?” Dimitri asks, his voice tinted with impatience. 

"The gist of it is that it is a spell meant for replacement." Seteth's eyebrows are drawn together. "It finds a matching soul from one of these infinite worlds and... swaps them."

"Swaps them?"

Seteth shrugs in a helpless manner. "I believe Rhea had it in the hopes that she could use it to find a way to bring another version of the progenitor god from another world into ours. I imagine she ran into issues due to— difficulties pertaining to the body." He says this like he's admitting to some great secret, although Felix doesn't know what. It's an awful lot of words, but no helpful answers. 

"So how do I get back to my world?" He asks. Seteth looks at him for the first time since he started talking, and Felix doesn't like what he sees. "I’m sorry, Felix, but it is a one way trip. The only way to get back would be for the other side to activate it." 

Felix hears the words, but he doesn't understand. He must be hallucinating, or something. A horrible lucid dream, maybe. Something. Anything. Anything except this horrible truth, that he’s stuck in some alternate world and there's absolutely nothing he can do about it.

His vision is fuzzy. He wobbles unsteadily on his feet. It feels like he has cotton balls in his mouth. He takes a step forward, and then another, but he isn't sure where he plans to go. A hand grabs a hold of his elbow, and Felix looks up to see Dimitri's one-eyed gaze fixed on him. Seeing him only serves to make Felix more confused. This is the man he knows more than anyone; the person he loves most in the world. One of the only people Felix wants around him when he's feeling sad or scared. There is no one he trusts more than Dimitri, except maybe his brother. And now Felix is far from home, lost, confused, scared, and Dimitri is right here but—

"We will keep looking for a way," he says, and he sounds so confident, so sure. Like royalty. Felix looks at him and he feels comforted and relieved, feels the way you're probably supposed to feel when you talk to a good king. But there's no sign in Dimitri's gaze of the boy Felix knows, of the one who pulled an all-nighter to help Felix study, or who'd lied for the first time in his life to their second grade teacher to spare Felix from detention, or the one who'd kissed him for the first time on the third floor garden during their Garreg Mach graduation. He doesn't know this Dimitri. He's completely alone and he has no way to get home.

"And my— our Felix won't stop until he finds a way home, as well. We won't stop until we can get you back home." His voice is deep and reassuring. It should make him feel better. Instead someone with the same face as the man he loved is telling him, basically, to sit tight. He thinks he might throw up.

Felix turns around and runs.

He'd gone to school at Garreg Mach, but there'd clearly been some heavy renovating in the fucking millennium between here and then, and also they were in the middle of a war, apparently, so half the school was destroyed anyway. He wanders through the monastery, looking for... something. Anything that looked familiar, anything he could recognize. 

Once when he'd been a kid, before his mom died, they'd taken a family trip to Deirdru. His father had worked for most of the trip, but with his mother around he wasn't as bothered. They'd gone down to the water, on a wickedly hot day, and Felix had run into the water and floated on his back. He'd let the sea take him wherever, keeping his ears below the surface so he could only hear rushing water. He'd felt completely weightless, disconnected from the world. He felt like he could float away, like he could fly. Like the only thing that existed was himself and the open sky. Then Glenn had tried to drown him (he still maintains he was just 'playing,' but Felix knows in his heart it was a genuine murder attempt), jumping on Felix and pushing him underwater.

This entire experience kind of feels like the drowning.

He ends up near the fishing pond. The one in his time was bigger, but he recognizes it, as least. There's a group of people clustered around the pier, and they all look at him strangely, as if he's the one dressed funny. He edges closer to the greenhouse, instead, something else he can recognize, crouching down and splashing water in his face. He sits back against the wall of the greenhouse and wills himself to wake up or die.

Neither of those happens. The sun beats down on him, sweaty jeans stuck to his legs. His feet are gross and sweltering in his boots. He's trying to remember when indoor plumbing was invented. He rifles around in his pockets, but he only has a couple of receipts from Ashe's, a piece of gum, and a note Dimitri had shoved in his pocket this morning. He doesn’t even have his phone. 

He'd rolled his eyes when he'd found the note earlier, more exasperated than anything else over Dimitri's sappy romantic gestures; now he unfolds the paper and looks it over, heart in his throat. 

Good luck on your test. I love you. I have a surprise for you:)

Felix hadn't gotten to find out what the surprise was. Maybe now he never will.

"Felix?” 

He looks up to see Ashe standing a few feet away. Everyone here was always dressed for war at all times. He folds the note back up and shoves it back in his pocket. 

"Are you okay?" Felix doesn't know how to answer that politely, and he doesn't like being rude to Ashe, so he says nothing. Ashe gives a sympathetic smile. “Sorry. That was probably a dumb question. Of course you're not. But His Majesty and the Professor want to see you again."

Felix swears, but he stands up and follows Ashe. He doesn't really think he has a choice. He can't stop remembering the way it had felt to have Dimitri’s lance pressed against his neck. 

Ashe keeps giving him sideways glances as they walk, and it's really starting to bug him. Eventually he says, "Can you stop looking at me like that?"

"Sorry," Ashe says, appropriately abashed. "It’s just strange. You look just like the Felix I know, but at the same time you're different. It’s just interesting to observe.”

Felix grits his teeth. He wonders what the other Felix is doing. He still hasn't really thought about the fact that there's another world just like his with the same people and another version of himself. If he focuses too much on it, he's likely to have an existential crisis, and he's having more than enough crises right now.

Ashe brings him back to the conference room with the large table. It’s probably called the war room or something. Byleth is sitting, but Dimitri is standing with his arms crossed. Felix hasn't seen him relax since he got here. The bags under his eyes are pronounced.

Dimitri looks him in the eye for one moment before he looks away. "Felix," he says, and his mouth shakes around his name. "We will continue to do all we can to find a way to send you back home, however we also have a war we have to focus on. We are closing in very soon on Enbarr, and we cannot afford to lose the advantage. If what Seteth says is true, we will have to hope that the Felix in your world finds a way to return. But we will continue to do anything we can, and we will continue to look into alternatives to getting you back to your world. In the meantime, you can stay at the monastery with us. Do you know how to use a sword?"  The look on Felix's face must tell Dimitri something, because he gives a half-assed smile and says, "We're not going to ask you to fight, but merely for your safety. We are at war, and we can't discount the possibility of an attack."

"It’s not really… nobody sword fights in my time."

"We'll train you in the basics. You can sleep in Felix's room, l will have someone show you where it is. You can wear his extra clothes, as well. They will suit you better here than… er, what you are wearing now. Feel free to explore or go where you wish, but be careful. And if anyone asks you a question about Felix Fralddarius, just ignore them. I'd prefer people not know that Felix is missing, and... well, no one will think twice about Felix being rude." 

"Dimitri," Felix says, and Dimitri reacts strangely at the sound of his name, jerking slightly as if he'd been hit. "You keep talking about war. Where are my brother and father?"

Dimitri makes eye contact with him once again, and even though it's brief Felix can see grief and guilt etched into the lines of his face. When he speaks, his voice is low. "Glenn... Glenn was killed almost ten years ago, along with my father and stepmother.” The words ring loudly in Felix's ears, but Dimitri still isn't done. "And your father..." Dimitri takes a steadying breath. "A few months ago, someone tried to kill me. Your father… he sacrificed himself to save me." The pain and guilt are clear in his voice, and for the first time since he got here, Felix understands what war means.

"Who are you fighting against," he asks dully. His voice seems very far away. He's not sure why this news is impacting him so much; they aren't his father and brother. His father and brother are safe at home in his world. But it still hurts, because he is far away from his family and now he's alone here, too. What he would do to be able to see any version of Glenn right now. "What is this war for?"

Dimitri takes a long time to answer, and when Felix looks back up at him his eye is closed. "We're fighting against the current emperor of Adrestia. Edelgard von Hresvelg."

Felix gapes at him "Your sister?" 

There are unshed tears in Dimitri's eye when it opens. Felix waits for them to fall, but they never do. "Perhaps in your world we are able to be family, and I'm glad of that. But El has made her decisions, and so have l. Both of us know the consequences."

Felix shakes his head. He thinks he might be about to have a panic attack. They celebrated the Solstice with Edelgard every year. She always buys him horrible presents; one time she'd given him a pack of monogrammed handkerchiefs. She was Dimitri's weird little sister. He'd known her since they were children. And now Dimitri is fighting a war against her. A war that had taken his father.

He wobbles on his feet. It's too hot in this room. Everything is hitting him all at once. He's in a parallel fucking universe and he has no way of getting back home and his father and brother are dead and his boyfriend won't look him in the eye and they're fighting a war against a girl he's gone on vacation with and he needs to learn how to use a fucking sword because they were at war and he might die— 

He was writing a test this morning. It feels impossible that this is the same day.

"I can't—” He puts his head in his hands and takes a deep breath. He tries to do what Mercedes said to do when he was having a panic attack, head between his legs, deep steady breathing, but he can't stop thinking about the bow on Ashe's back and a lance at his neck and—

He needs air. He needs to get out of this room. There are tear tracks on his cheeks, although he doesn't remember when he began to cry. He turns on his heel and runs again. It’s the only thing he knows how to do.

His Dimitri would have come after him. Or he could have called Glenn and talked to him; Glenn talked him down more than anyone. But no one comes after him, and he has no one to go to, not here.

Here, he's completely alone.

Chapter Text

Glenn. 

Felix pushes past him and runs, but he doesn't go far. He doesn't recognize anything around him; he pushes through a heavy door and down a few flights of stairs, but when he gets outside the world is so different from what he knows that he doesn't want to stray too far. There's a bunch of strange contraptions in the yard where he is, some bars and a long tube, a climbing wall and a few swings. They're fancier than the ropes they'd hung from trees in Fraldarius, hung from chains instead, but a swing is a swing. He sits down and pushes himself back and forth, staring up at the setting sun. There are too many thoughts running through his head. 

He'd always wondered what Glenn would have looked like as an adult. 

He's not sure how long he stays out there, idly swinging back and forth, before Glenn comes out. Felix watches him warily as he makes his way over to the swing set, sitting down on the swing next to Felix.

"So," he says, conversationally. "Dimitri told me everything. At first I thought you guys had gotten into Sylvain's edibles again, but Dimitri isn't exactly known for his practical jokes. Plus you're dressed like a fucking weirdo." Felix lets out a surprised laugh.

"You're really going to believe it, just like that? Dimitri wouldn't believe it until he'd seen it for himself."

Glenn hums. “I trust him. He’s never lied to me before. But also… the way you looked at me. I've never seen you look at me like that. Like you'd seen a ghost."

"You're dead," Felix bites out. "You died. In my world." He looks up to see that Glenn's eyes are on him, deep hazel and filled with an emotion Felix is too afraid to identify. He wraps his hands around the chains and holds them tightly enough to hurt. "I don't know how I got here, and I don't know how to get home." Mortifyingly, his voice shakes. "And you're dead. And you've been dead for almost ten years.” Tears prick at his eyes. His chest feels tight. There are too many thoughts and feelings swirling around in his head. The pain of missing Glenn had been inside of him for so long that he'd gotten used to it, but this is a fresh wound. How different would the past years have been if Glenn had been alive? Who would he have been if he hadn't lost his brother? What is the other Felix like? Without the hole in his chest that's been there since he was 13? 

There's something inside of him that is threatening to break at any moment. An arm wraps around his shoulder, and he comes apart.

"I'm sorry," Glenn says softly, pulling Felix in so he is sobbing into Glenn’s chest. "I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry."

He's alone. His brother is dead and his father is dead and he's trapped in a strange world with no way of getting home and he’s scared. He shakes and cries and breaks apart in the arms of a man who probably looks exactly like his brother would have, if he'd been allowed to grow up.

He tries not to cry for too long, but he's not sure how much time has passed until his eyes dry and he's able to lift his head. He wipes his face in embarrassment, but Glenn laughs. "Don't be embarrassed, I've seen you cry tons of times." 

Felix huffs and wipes his nose. "I've never really done that," he says. "Cried like that for you."

"You used to cry all the time when you were a kid," Glenn says quietly.

"Not since you died." Not since one night when he'd lost everything. His brother, his relationship with his father, his best friend. His ability to process his emotions or concentrate on anything other than training more and getting stronger and stronger, as if he could fight off the spectre of death from every person he loved.

Glenn stands up and grabs the chains of Felix's swing, twisting them— and Felix — round and round. As he twists, he speaks. 

"Listen. I don't know what kind of weird magic this is, but we'll figure it out. We'll get you home, and we'll get my Felix back. I really don't know how long he'll last in medieval times." He shakes the swing. "Okay? I'm your wise older brother. You have to believe me." 

Felix says disbelievingly, "Wise?" 

Glenn lets go of the chains, causing Felix's swing to right itself. His legs fly out as the swing spins, and when the chain has untwisted Felix's head still feels like it's spinning. Glenn grabs the chains again and waits for Felix to look at him. "We're gonna fix this okay? I promise.”

Felix nods. It's the easiest thing, to fall back into having an older brother. Felix doesn't know where he is or what he's going to do, but he knows that he trusts Glenn. He’s always trusted Glenn. 

"Good. Now let's go inside to talk about this. We have pizza." 

“Pizza?”

Glenn looks at him and shakes his head. "My Felix is definitely not going to last."

Felix has never exactly been known for looking on the bright side, but he has to admit, this pizza thing is really fucking good. Felix has been living off of war rations for years, a point he vehemently drives home when he and Glenn are fighting over the last piece. When the pizza is finished and Felix is feeling fuller than he has since he was a child, Glenn and Dimitri look at him expectantly.

Felix sighs and waves his hand at the two of them. "Ask your questions."

"Dimitri explained it as best as he could, but he wasn't sure about some things. Can you explain again?"

So he does. He tells them about the strange glowing stone in the archbishop’s bedroom at Garreg Mach, how he had touched it accidentally and ended up here. He tells them about the strange moment where it seemed like nothing existed, and he had seen that strange reflection of himself— which, now that he thinks about it…

Glenn comes to the same conclusion. "That must have been our Felix," he says. "Which means you two must have just swapped places." He looks at Dimitri. "When was indoor plumbing invented?"

Dimitri thinks about this. "Not 1186," he says eventually.

"Dimitri said something about a war?" Glenn asks next, looking worried.

Felix nods. "Yes. But like I told him," he nods at Dimitri, "Your Felix won't be fighting. He'll be safe." Relatively.

Neither of them look all that reassured about that. "Who are you fighting this war against?" Dimitri asks with concern.

"The empire," Felix says. “Led by Edelgard von Hresvelg." Dimitri starts to cough; Glenn looks more surprised by this than anything else so far.

"Edelgard?" He asks, at the same time Dimitri says, "My sister?"

"Maybe here,” Felix says, still a little miffed that he hadn't known about the connection between Dimitri and Edelgard until recently. "But in my world, Edelgard declared war against the church and all of Fodlan."

Dimitri is very pale. "Goddess," he says faintly. “El…” 

Glenn shakes his head and pats Dimitri on the back. "So who else is fighting with you? People we know?"

Felix nods. "Sylvain and Ingrid," he says. "Dedue, Annette, Mercedes, Ashe. There are some others, too, I'm not sure if you'll know them. Dorothea, Linhardt. Some of the Knights of Seiros. And whatever soldiers that could be spared from Fraldarius and Gautier. For a while Faerghus was torn apart and Fhirdiad was taken over, but we recently reclaimed the city and your throne." He nods at Dimitri. "We will be marching on Enbarr soon."

Dimitri is very pale. Glenn is looking between him and Felix, like he's not sure which one of them to watch. His arm goes around Dimitri's shoulder, but Dimitri gives his head a little snake and then looks at Felix again. "No sense getting upset about a sister in a parallel universe, I suppose." He still looks a bit bothered, and Felix watches as he pulls some kind of rectangular object out of his pocket and taps on it. Glenn is also watching this, but he doesn't seem as confused as Felix.

"Does Felix have his phone?" He asks. Dimitri looks up and thinks about it, but then he shakes his head.

"It’s on the charger," he says. "I don't think it would matter though. I doubt it would work in a different universe."

Glenn nods. "Or you'd get some wicked long distance fees."

"What are you talking about?" Felix asks peevishly. Dimitri and Glenn turn to look at him.

"Sorry," Dimitri says sincerely. "We've made quite a few technological advances from your time. This is a phone. It allows you to contact pretty much anyone in the world." Felix doesn't really absorb this, because Dimitri presses a button and the thing lights up.

It’s some kind of miniature portrait. It’s Dimitri and Felix— this world's Felix. Dimitri is pressing a kiss to his cheek; the other Felix is rolling his eyes, but there’s a blush across his cheeks, and he doesn't look annoyed. Not really.

Felix swallows around the lump in his throat and averts his eyes.

"You said it allows you to contact anyone. What do you mean?"

"It'll probably be easier to just show you." Dimitri taps on the phone and then Felix can hear a ringing sound coming from it. After a few moments someone starts speaking, and although the voice sounds a little distorted, Felix thinks he recognizes it.

"Well this is a nice surprise. What’s up, gorgeous?"

"Dorothea," Dimitri says. "Apologies, I must have butt-dialed you."

"Well, with such a good butt.” Felix rolls his eyes; Dimitri gives a self-conscious chuckle. 

“Do you have a show tonight?"

"Of course!" Dorothea says grandly. "Opera never sleeps."

"I'll let you go. Good luck tonight." 

"Thanks, darling. Mwah." 

The noise cuts off. Felix narrows his eyes at the phone. "Where is she?"

"Enbarr," Dimitri says.

"How does it work? Magic?" 

"Well— not really. Sort of? I suppose it could be argued that science is a type of—”

"It’s not important," Glenn interjects. "You should learn how to use it if you're going to be here for a while, but you won't need to understand it.”

Felix scowls. “I don't plan to be here for a while."

"Do you have a plan, then?" Glenn asks. Felix doesn't answer, and Glenn sighs.

"I'm guessing that's a no.”

But it’s not. Felix’s brain is going fast. “Dorothea…” Felix says. “She with the Mittlefrank Company?” Dimitri nods. "This universe is the same in a lot of ways,” Felix says. “Is Garreg Mach still around?" Dimitri and Glenn nod. "So then— then there should be another stone at this Garreg Mach. We can just go and activate it." His heart lifts a little bit. Could it be that easy?

Neither Dimitri or Glenn look convinced.

"You can't just stroll up to Garreg Mach and ask to see the archbishop's bedroom,” Glenn says. "I think you would kill Seteth on the spot."

"We have to at least try!" He snaps. "I'm not just going to—”

"No one said we weren't going to try," Glenn interjects. “Guess you never learned to listen in your universe, either. Must be a defining trait.” Felix scowls, but Glenn doesn't give him time to argue back. "This is probably the best lead, but we can't just stroll up there, say you're from another universe, and ask to investigate the archbishop's bedroom. You'll get thrown in the loony bin."

"You couldn't anyway," Dimitri says. "The archbishop is in Almyra for the king's wedding. She isn't at Garreg Mach right now." 

Felix deflates slightly, slumping back onto the half of the couch he had been sitting on. It must be written clearly on his face how he feels, because Glenn leans forward, and his voice takes on a reassuring tone.

"Don't worry, Felix. We'll go to Garreg Mach, and we'll figure out how to set this right. Just give it a few days for her to return from Almyra. That will give us time to make a plan. We can do some research, too."

"There may be some kind of information on the internet,” Dimitri says. 

"Yeah, alongside a lot of bullshit," Glenn says in annoyance. "Probably a whole fucking subreddit full of weirdos who think they're from another universe."

"So I just have to sit here and wait? ” Felix says this in a tone of voice that would seem to imply that someone had asked him to drown a kitten.

"I know that's not what you want to hear,” Glenn says. "But marching up to Garreg Mach right now won't accomplish much."

"The archbishop will be back on Sunday morning," Dimitri says, looking at his phone. "We can go then."

"How do you know?" Felix asks. Dimitri shows Felix his phone.

"It says it on their website." 

"I don't understand half the shit you people say," Felix says in annoyance. "But—” he swears under his breath. "I guess I don't have any other options. What day is it?"

"Thursday." Dimitri answers. Not the worst, but that still left three nights he had to stay here, unless they managed to do something back in his universe. 

"What am I supposed to do until then?"

"There's lots to keep you occupied," Glenn says. "You don't have to churn your own butter anymore.” Dimitri's lips curl up in a stifled smile.

Glenn checks his watch and then stands up. “Look, I have to head home. I'll do some research in case we need a backup plan." He stretches, hands reaching up towards the ceiling and yawning. "Maybe I'll wake up and this will all been some weird fucking dream."

Not likely , Felix thinks.

Glenn leaves, but he gives Felix a serious look and a clap on the shoulder, promising that they would figure it out. It’s easy to believe him; Felix knows that this isn't his brother, in the same way that it isn't his Dimitri. The problem is that he doesn't have anything to compare to. It’s easy to compare this Dimitri to the one he's known for his entire life, easy to see the subtle differences between them, the way he holds himself, the way he smiles, the smoothness of his hands, the bright blue of both his eyes. But he doesn't have that with Glenn. The last memory he had of his brother was Glenn, almost eighteen, an easy, cocky smile on his face, promising to teach Felix a new move when he got home from Duscur. Not like this one— almost thirty, still cocky and confident but better earned now, still looking out for Felix even in a situation like this. His brother. 

"Felix?"

It's just him and Dimitri now. He's wearing a pair of blue plaid pants and a white t-shirt that says Fhirdiad Secondary Hockey on it. It looks pretty old and threadbare, and it stretches obscenely over Dimitri's shoulders.

"I set up the spare room for you," Dimitri is saying. "It's actually more like an office slash room for the cat, but we have a pull out couch, and I put fresh sheets on it. I also left some of Felix's clothes on the desk in there, for when you want to, uh…" his eyes track down Felix's body. “Change. If you don't like anything, feel free to rifle around the drawers. You two are probably the same size.” The joke falls short, but Felix follows Dimitri deeper into the apartment and into another room. There's a desk in one corner and a bed in the other, laden with fluffy looking pillows and a large comforter.

But more than the bed and the desk, what really catches Felix's eye are the swords. All around the room, mounted on the walls, are swords. All kinds of swords— older ones that Felix recognizes, newer looking models, and some that just look impractical.

"Er, yeah," Dimitri says, watching as Felix stares at the walls. “Felix has a bit of a sword hobby. The compromise was that he could only have one or two in our room, so he shoved most of them in here."

"Some of these are incredibly ill suited for battle," he says in annoyance to mask how interested he is.

"Well, sure, but... well, we don't really battle anymore. Or not with swords, at least."

Felix walks into the room and sits down on the bed, bouncing up and down to test the firmness. A room full of swords is a little on the nose, but he can't deny that he likes it. There looks to be some that clearly took great inspiration from Zoltan, and he is eager to take a look at them.

"I have work tomorrow," Dimitri says. "Do you... want me to stay home?”

Felix makes a face. "No, it's fine. I don't need a babysitter."

Dimitri smiles. "You really are quite like him. It makes it easier to believe this crazy situation." His eyes turn sad, and Felix looks away, not wanting to intrude on his grief.

"Ah, here," Dimitri says, coming to sit on the bed beside Felix. Any trace of his sadness is gone now, a perfect mask on his face once again. "I should try to teach you how to work this." He holds out a phone. "It'll let me reach you while I'm at work, or you can contact Glenn. This is Felix's phone. Push this button," Dimitri pushes a button on the side, and the screen lights up. This picture is different— it's just Dimitri, looking into the distance, hair pulled off his face and smiling softly. It makes Felix's heart stutter.

"Place your thumb here.” Felix does, and the screen makes a noise and changes. "Hmm," Dimitri says. “Down to the fingerprint, I guess. Interesting."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Sorry. But look, if you need anything, press this icon— it looks like a phone, not that that helps you." Dimitri does a few more things, pressing on the screen and explaining to Felix how to get a hold of him or Glenn. Felix doesn't really follow all that well, especially since Dimitri’s thick thumbs keep pressing the wrong buttons and he has to backtrack. Felix just nods and takes the phone when Dimitri hands it to him.

"Well, good night," Dimitri says, standing up and heading to the door. "If I don't see you in the morning, I'll be home around five. I'll bring you some more 21st century food."

Dimitri is half-way out the door when Felix convinces himself to speak.

"Dimitri."

Dimitri turns back. Felix looks at the swords on the wall and then says, "You called him your boyfriend."

"Yes," Dimitri says easily, clearly not understanding what an effect on Felix this is having.

"How long?"

"Almost six years." He gets another one of these sad smiles on his face. "I was going to ask him to marry me tonight."

Felix is frozen, but Dimitri doesn't seem to expect an answer. He says good night again before leaving Felix to his frantic thoughts. 

Felix doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep at all tonight; but he’s so exhausted by everything that he’s out almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

Chapter Text

“Okay,” Sylvain says around a yawn the next morning. “Do you have any experience with swords?”

“I have lots of experience with swords,” Felix says peevishly. “I just don’t know how to fight with them, because now people just blow each other up from thousands of kilometres away.” He takes the sword from Sylvain’s hand and holds it; it’s a dull training sword, nothing exciting. Sylvain yawns again just as Ingrid comes bustling into the training grounds. 

“Not like you to be late,” Sylvain says. Ingrid swipes her hair out of her face. 

“Sorry. I was eating breakfast.”

Sylvain smiles fondly. “I doubt there’s any universe out there where you skip breakfast.”

Ingrid doesn’t seem to recognize the dumb smile that Sylvain has on his face (one Felix has seen many a time before), because she bristles at his words, misinterpreting them as some kind of teasing. “Breakfast is the—”

“Most important meal of the day,” Felix finishes for her. Sylvain cackles. “You’re not very different from my Ingrid.”

She frowns at him. “Well, it’s true.” She walks to the weapons rack and picks up a sword. “What has Sylvain taught you so far?”

“He handed me the sword,” Felix says. Sylvain yawns again. Ingrid pinches the bridge of her nose. 

“He doesn’t know anything about swords,” Sylvain says. 

“I know tons about swords!” Felix fires back, offended. “I just don’t know how to fight with them.”

“That’s okay,” Ingrid says. “We’ll start from the beginning. Sylvain and I don’t normally use swords anyway, we’re not going to be teaching you anything overly complicated.”

“Why the hell are you two helping me if you don’t know how to use a sword?”

“She didn’t say we don’t know how to use a sword,” Sylvain says. “She said we don’t normally use them. Swords are the first weapon you get trained on in Faerghus. We’ve known how to fight with one since we were five.”

Felix stares at him. In high school Annette had written an essay about medieval Fhaergan attitudes and the over glorification of war, and Felix had read it because she had looked at him with that stupid expression he couldn’t say no to, but also because it was a really good essay. It had won awards; Felix hadn’t even known they gave out awards for essays. Anyway, the point was Felix had a pretty good idea of how screwed up Faerghus culture had been in this time, but it was a totally different thing to see a man with the face of his best friend telling him he’d been taught to fight since he was five. 

He thinks about the Glenn and Rodrigue in this world. Dimitri had said his father had sacrificed himself to save Dimitri. Felix can’t imagine carrying that weight on his shoulders. Dimitri was a king here. His Dimitri was descended from the Blaiddyd’s that had held the throne, but the monarchy had been dissolved centuries ago. But in this world— in this world Dimitri was a king, fighting a war against his sister, and people were dying for him. 

He doesn’t want to be here. He wants to go home.

“So who’s the best sword fighter here?” He asks, wanting to shut down his mind and stop thinking about what’s going on. “Shouldn’t they be teaching me?”

“Might be difficult,” Sylvain says. “Given that it’s you.”

“Actually, on that note,” Ingrid says, looking a little concerned. “If anybody comes up to you and asks to fight, say no. People like to challenge Felix. He also likes to challenge people. Just scoff and ignore them.” 

“I think I can manage that,” Felix says dryly. 

Sylvain yawns again, winking at Ingrid when she looks at him disapprovingly. “Sorry. Late night.” 

Ingrid sighs heavily. Felix watches all of this with interest. 

“Can we just get started, please,” Ingrid says. “I don’t need to hear about whatever girl you terrorized last night, Sylvain.”

“Huh,” Felix says. “So you two aren’t together.”

Honestly, completely worth it for the looks they both give him. Ingrid’s eyes widen and she begins to stutter her objections, but Sylvain, rather tellingly, averts his eyes and stays quiet. 

Felix clicks his tongue. So the idiot couldn’t be honest in this universe, either.

“Look,” Ingrid finally says firmly, glaring at him as if it was his fault that the two of them were dating in his universe. “We don’t have time for this. We’re marching on Enbarr in two days. We need to teach you how to use a sword. We’re going to run through some very basic exercises, defensive only. It’s highly unlikely you’ll ever need to use them, but again, better to be safe than sorry. Let’s go.”

Felix huffs. “Bossy,” he complains. 

“Bossy and holding a sword,” Ingrid snaps back. “Don’t test me.”

Worry is seeped in her tone, and Felix realizes that he’s being an ass, that their Felix is missing and they’re worried. He shuts his mouth and lifts his sword up a little. 

“Okay,” he says. “What do I do?”

Felix is in shape, but by the end of their training he’s aching, having used muscles he’s never really used before in ways he’s never done. His arm is throbbing, and he digs his fingers into the muscle of his bicep and rubs at it. The Felix from this world must be ripped as shit. 

“I think that’s good for now,” Ingrid says, wiping away the sweat from her forehead with her arm. “You have a fairly solid grasp on sword fighting for someone who’s never done it before.”

“I told you I knew a lot about swords,” he says grumpily. “Just because I’ve never fucking stabbed anyone doesn’t mean I’m clueless.”

Sylvain yawns again and then says, “I’m surprised your Crest didn’t activate. Felix’s usually starts going wild as soon as he gets a sword in his hands.”

Felix frowns. “I don’t have a Crest,” he says. “Or— well, I did, I guess, when I was born. They’re really rare now, and they get removed when you’re born even if you do have one.” He’s still rubbing at his arm; he looks down and rolls his wrist, and when he looks back up Sylvain is staring at him with his mouth open, and Ingrid is watching Sylvain with worry.

“You can remove Crests in your universe?” Sylvain asks. Felix has no idea what is going on, but he can recognize the look on Sylvain’s face, even if he doesn’t know why it’s there. Ingrid chews her lip, watching Sylvain like a hawk.

“Uh, yeah,” Felix says hesitantly, no longer certain if this is something they should be talking about. “For like… I don’t know, equality or something?” Annette’s essay had also delved into the Crest system; he couldn’t remember much, since it was more than five years ago since he’d read it and he can’t exactly fucking text her and ask, but he remembers thinking as he read it, this is fucked up. I’m glad I don’t have that anymore. “There was a big, like, Crest reform a few centuries ago — in my world it was, at least— and now they’re pretty much gone.” There were a few anomalies, of course; people never stopped wanting power, and there’d been the occasional time in history when someone had given birth secretly to try and keep their child’s Crest, presumably for world domination or some shit, but those rebellions had all been squashed. 

He looks between Sylvain and Ingrid. Ingrid looks pensive while still keeping an eye on Sylvain, because Sylvain looks horrible. Sylvain looks like Felix had just told him he’d run over his cat. Grief is etched in the lines of his face, and Felix has no fucking idea why. 

“Are you—”

He doesn’t get to ask if Sylvain is okay (which is probably best, because he clearly fucking isn’t), because he abruptly spins on his heel and all but runs out of the training grounds. Felix and Ingrid watch him go. 

“What was that about?”

Ingrid sighs and grabs the sword out of Felix’s hand, returning it to the weapons rack. “In our world, Crests are… a big deal.” She turns back to Felix, eyebrows pinched. “People arrange marriages for Crests, adopt children for Crests, use them as currency as if they weren’t attached to a human.” Ingrid’s voice is beyond bitter. “Sylvain and I, we both have minor Crests, and they’ve ruined our lives. Felix has a major Crest, which is even rarer.” She looks away suddenly. “When I was born, and they found out I had a Crest, I was almost immediately betrothed to Glenn.”

It takes Felix a second to absorb this information. “Glenn as in… my brother?”

Ingrid nods. Felix barely resists snorting, because he knows this isn’t the time and this is clearly a big issue these people have, but the idea of Ingrid and Glenn is absolutely ridiculous to him. 

“When he died…” Her voice shakes. “Within a couple of days, my father was already writing letters to different suitors to try and find me another marriage prospect. I was thirteen.”

Felix swallows. Suddenly this isn’t remotely funny anymore. 

“And I’m lucky,” Ingrid says fiercely. “Because my parents have always made it clear that they love me for more than my Crest, and I know that if it weren’t for Galatea’s financial situation…” she shakes her head. “But Sylvain… In your world, what is Miklan like?”

Felix blinks, thrown off guard. He doesn’t know the last time he thought of that fucking imbecile. “Stupid,” he says. “Ugly. A complete waste of space. In jail.”

“For what?”

Felix rolls his eyes. “Armed robbery, the moron. Left his fucking fingerprints all over the scene.”

“And him and Sylvain…”

“They don’t talk. They’ve never been close.”

“Did Miklan ever hurt him?”

Felix swallows. “Occasionally. Nothing… severe. A few fistfights when they were younger and a shit ton of emotional damage, but never anything—”

“In our world,” Ingrid says, cutting him off. “Sylvain was born with a Crest, and Miklan was not. Miklan was removed as Gautier heir in favour of the second son, and from that moment on Miklan not only hated Sylvain but made it his goal to hurt him. He once pushed Sylvain down a well and left him there to die.”

“What the fuck,” Felix mutters. 

Ingrid looks towards the door that Sylvain had left through. “If we are… together in your world,” she says, and he can’t quite read what emotion it is in her voice, “Then that is only possible because it’s a world where he hasn’t been told since the day he was born that the only thing he’s good for is his Crest.”

Felix clenches his fists. He wants to go home. 

“What happened to Miklan here?” He asks. Ingrid looks back at him. 

“He became the leader of a gang of bandits. When we attended Garreg Mach five years ago, we had a run-in with them, and Sylvain killed him.”

Felix pushes his palms into his eyes. “What kind of fucked up world are you people living in?”

“One we’re fighting to change,” Ingrid says fiercely. Then she sighs. “I’m going to go check on him,” she says softly, and there’s definitely something in her tone. “Remember what His Majesty said. Only talk to members of our class. We don’t want anyone to know our Felix is missing.”

It takes Felix a moment to place who she means by His Majesty. “Why don’t you just say Dimitri?” He asks. “He’s not even here.”

Ingrid blanches. “He may be my friend, but above all he is my King. It would be inappropriate not to use his proper title.”

Everyone in this fucking universe must be so fucking lonely. 

“Go get Sylvain,” he says. “I’m fine.”

Ingrid looks at him for another moment before she finally nods and leaves. 

Felix heads to the dining hall after, starving from the amount of working out he’d been doing. He hadn’t been thrilled with the breakfast options, and he’s even less thrilled with the lunch menu. He gets some stupid fish dish and sits down at one of the tables, set apart from everyone else. Now that he’s wearing more “normal” clothes, including the world’s most impractical boots, people are largely ignoring him, which he appreciates. He’s hoping that Dimitri will show up, but by the time he’s finished eating he hasn’t, so Felix decides to go look for him, instead. 

He heads outside from the dining hall and looks around; he heads down the steps and goes to poke his head in the greenhouse, where sure enough he sees Dedue in the back corner, doing whatever it is you need to do with plants. 

“Dedue,” he says. “Where can I find Dimitri?”

Dedue glances up and then stands, brushing off the dirt on his — uh, armour. Fucking weird. Surely walking around like that all day was exhausting. It was summer. 

“Felix,” he greets. “His Majesty is likely in the council room.” Felix nods and turns to leave, never one to linger for conversation, but Dedue calls his name again. “While I don’t discourage you from seeking out His Majesty, I would like to remind you that in this world, he is a king, and is deserving of the appropriate respect and deference.”

“Aren’t all of you just a barrel of fucking laughs,” he says sourly, turning away without another word and heading upstairs. He finds Dimitri exactly where Dedue had said he’d be, hunched over a map. There’s no one else in the room, and Felix makes sure he closes the door behind him. 

“Dimitri,” he says, and watches as he jumps, looking up at Felix in surprise. 

“Ah, Felix,” he says. “Forgive me. I was lost in thought.”

Felix studies him; his cheeks are a little sunken, bags thick under his eye, and the edges of his eyepatch are frayed. His gloves are off and set off to the side, and there’s a plate of food beside him that looks untouched. Felix nods at it. 

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

Dimitri looks at the plate guiltily. “Dedue brought that an hour or so ago,” he says. “I meant to eat, truly. I lost track of time.” He frowns down at the map, and Felix can already see the food leaving his mind as he focuses on whatever it is he’s worrying about. Felix sighs and walks forward, hopping up on the table and sitting on the map, blocking it from Dimitri’s view. Dimitri looks at him in shock. 

Felix nods at the food again. “Eat and I’ll get my ass off your map. I don’t know a lot about fighting a war, but I’m pretty sure it’s easier when you eat properly.” Dimitri continues to stare at him in shock. Felix rolls his eyes. “Sorry, I know you’re a king, or whatever.” He leans over to grab the plate of food, placing it in front of Dimitri. “Eat your fucking lunch, Your Majesty.” He says this in a hoity-toity tone. 

And Dimitri— Dimitri laughs. It’s the first sign of happiness Felix has seen from him since he got here. Felix feels his heart lift at the sound. 

“I’m sorry, Felix,” he says. “I don’t mean to laugh. I’ve just never heard your voice like that.” He shakes his head, smiling softly as he— dutifully— begins to eat. Felix watches him closely, observes the lines on his face and the hunch of his shoulders. It’s the weirdest fucking thing; Felix can read Dimitri like the back of his hand, knows every part of him like he knows himself, but looking at this Dimitri here feels like… it feels like he’s looking at a book in a language that he understands, but he still can’t read it anyway. 

He watches Dimitri eat. He thinks about Ingrid and Dedue and their insistence on respect and titles. Everything in this universe was different but still so similar. So maybe he was a king here, but he was still Dimitri underneath that. 

“How was your training with Sylvain and Ingrid?” Dimitri asks between bites. Felix blows out a breath. 

“I mentioned that Crests are removed when you’re born in my world and Sylvain… it didn’t exactly go over well,” he says flatly. Dimitri winces. 

“Yes, I can see why that would upset him,” Dimitri says. He wipes his mouth with his hand, then he pauses and grabs the napkin, instead. Felix snorts at this. 

“Dimitri,” he says, wanting to ask about— well, fifty thousand things, really, but he’s distracted from that when he sees the very minute little jerk Dimitri does. 

“Why do you do that every time I say your name?”

“Ah,” Dimitri says, a little self-consciously. “My Felix and I… we haven’t exactly been on the best of terms. And the way you say my name is…” he coughs. “It’s… well, I haven’t heard Felix say my name like that since we were children.”

He sounds… sad. Felix watches as he closes his eye and takes a breath, and then he straightens up and gives Felix a perfectly political smile. 

“Apologies,” he says. “Thank you for encouraging me to eat. Sometimes I get so lost in my own head.” He looks at Felix expectantly, and he reluctantly moves off of Dimitri’s big map. Dimitri’s eyebrows immediately furrow as he looks down at the map again. Felix doesn’t know what he could possibly be looking for. 

“What happened between you and the Felix of this world?” He asks. He watches with interest as Dimitri’s hands clench, and he takes another steadying breath.

“Felix. I understand that this is tough for you. But in two days… in two days is probably the biggest crossroads of my life, and I have been at many. The future of literally everything is hanging in the balance and Felix and I— I really don’t want to relive it.”

“Do you not have a plan yet?” 

Dimitri looks confused. “Of course we do.”

“And does your plan involve staring at a map for the next two days?” 

Dimitri opens his mouth and then closes it. 

“I talked to Ingrid,” Felix says, hopping back up on the table. “And then I talked to Dedue. And then I came up here to see you having a staring contest with a map. And I know I’ve only been in this weird universe for about 24 hours, but I’ve come to the conclusion that everyone here is really fucking sad and depressing and you are not taking care of yourself. And maybe you're not my Dimitri, but you're still Dimitri, and you look like shit." Dimitri gawks at him. Felix isn't done. "I'll leave you alone to stare at your stupid map, but only if you promise to come eat dinner with me tonight." 

There is something… unreadable in Dimitri’s eye. It's unnerving, not to know what he's thinking, what he wants. Then he smiles slightly, the barest tilt of his lips. "All right, Felix. That sounds like a fair deal." 

"Good," Felix says gruffly, standing up again. "Meet me at the dining hall at—" then he stops. "Wait, how the fuck do you people tell time here? And if you say the sun I'm gonna lose it." 

"Well, it's not just the sun. We also use candles," Dimitri says, which is not nearly as reassuring as he seems to think it is. "How do you tell time?" 

"I connect to the internet and it tells me." 

Dimitri's brow furrows. "What is the internet?" 

That is so not a conversation Felix wants to get into. "It's not important," he says. "Just, meet me at six, I guess." He can probably ask somebody what time it is, or maybe they have a fucking sundial somewhere. 

The past was a nightmare. 

Dimitri keeps looking at him with the same kind of expression he’d seen on Sylvain’s face earlier; a little like grief. “Okay,” he says. “I will see you at dinner.”

Felix doesn’t want to leave, but he’ll keep his word. He leaves the council room and goes to find some way to pass the time until dinner. 

Chapter Text

When Felix wakes up, he is warm, and comfortable, and more well-rested than perhaps he’s ever been. He stretches and then slumps deeper into the fluffy mattress. His ideal scenario would have been to wake up and this had all been a dream, and he was in his stupid bed at Garreg Mach— but if he couldn’t have that, at least he got to wake up in the world’s most comfortable bed. 

The growling in his stomach and the need to pee gets him moving. Dimitri had walked Felix through the apartment last night and showed him how to work everything, but Felix isn't sure how much he really processed. He can't help but almost smile, then, when he enters the bathroom and sees that Dimitri has left him notes on both the toilet and the shower. The one on the toilet says: 

1. do your business (Felix rolls his eyes)
2. press the handle on the side of the toilet
3. wash your hands :) 

And on the shower: 

1. pull the knob out
2. turn until the water reaches desired temperature
3. get naked (this can technically be done beforehand!) 
4. get in! we have unlimited hot water! take your time! :) 

Felix laughs through his nose. There's a stack of towels on one of the shelves and he grabs one, stripping out of the night clothes he'd been wearing. He fiddles with the shower until it's steaming hot.

Then he stays there for almost half an hour.

It’s fucking bliss . The heat never falters, and Felix lets it wash over him, feels muscles that have been tight for over a decade start to loosen up from the onslaught of heat. When Felix has had enough time in what has quickly replaced pizza as his favourite thing from the future, he turns the shower off and starts to dry himself. As he's doing this he finally meets the elusive cat Dimitri had told him about; she pads across the bathroom tile and starts licking the water off Felix's leg.

"Do you mind?"

Green eyes stare up at him unblinking. The cat clearly does not mind.

He dries himself off and then goes to look for some other clothes. None of the ones Dimitri had given him look like anything Felix would ever wear. He lets himself into Dimitri's bedroom and starts rifling through the drawers (in his defence, Dimitri had said he could). He finds a pair of very comfortable pants, but he doesn't really like any of the shirts the other Felix has— some had a weird combination of words on them (Dimitri later tells him those are ‘band shirts'), and one of them cuts off at the stomach and is completely see through (when asked about that, Dimitri turns bright red and says “that was, umm. A birthday present. For me.") After that Felix goes to look in their closet and eventually throws on a blue sweater that, judging from the size, used to belong to Dimitri.

When he's dressed and has brushed his hair he heads into the kitchen. There is, of course, another note from Dimitri on the counter. Felix wonders how early he woke up to write all of these up. 

Felix :)

There are some leftovers in the fridge— I hope you remember how to use the microwave. I wrote out instructions in case you forgot! I also wrote out instructions on how to use the phone, as I know it was a lot of information. If you need anything, reach out to me or Glenn!

I'll see you later tonight! 

Dimitri.

Right, the phone. Felix goes back into the room he'd slept in and grabs the phone off the table. He shoves it into the pocket of his sweater and goes to search-out something to eat.

There are a few different containers in the fridge, with notes on them explaining what they were, how long to put them in the microwave, and whether Felix was likely to enjoy it. On one of the containers he'd written This is my Felix's favourite. if you two share tastes you'll love it!

Judging from some of the clothes in his closet, Felix isn't sure how his tastes line up with his other self's, but he figures it’s a good start. He smiles at the stupid note. Then he thinks about his Dimitri, and the smile falls off his face.

It was only Friday. He had two more days before he could do anything , while a universe away all the people he loved the most were marching on Enbarr, trying to end the war. And he could do nothing. He was completely helpless.

Felix runs a hand over his face. This Dimitri was— sweet, a little goofy. A Dimitri who was not forged in blood, who hadn't been taken apart, who hadn't had to put himself together piece by piece. He wasn't the Dimitri that Felix knew. He wasn't the Dimitri that Felix was—

The microwave beeps. Felix shakes his head, but when he sits down to eat he pulls the phone out of his pocket and turns on the screen to see that picture of Dimitri again. He feels absolutely ridiculous, but not ridiculous enough to stop.

As he's looking, the phone starts to beep, and a series of messages start appearing:

Sylvain: you're still coming tonight right

Felix unlocks the phone the way Dimitri told him to, and it opens to a screen where more messages from Sylvain are pouring in. 

Sylvain: I mean i assume you are because Dimitri would rather die than miss Dedue's birthday party 

Sylvain: but you have a habit of “””not feeling well””” right before large events

Sylvain: idk why you have such a sparkling personality

Sylvain: Felix you bag of dicks you have read receipts on i can literally see you ignoring me

Felix presses the button with a little house on it and manages to find his way back to the picture of Dimitri… except now that the phone is unlocked, it's a different picture. In this one, they're kissing .

Felix's breath hitches in his throat, fork clattering into the bowl as his food is forgotten. He can't stop staring. There's so much to stare at. The press of Dimitri's fingers to the other Felix's jaw, the other cradling his neck, and Felix briefly closes his eyes because he can almost feel it, although the hands in his mind are rougher and more scarred. There's a smile on the other Felix's mouth, even during the kiss. A genuine smile, not a smirk, defences all torn to shit as the other version of himself gives himself over completely to Dimitri. Felix can see the trust between them, in how his hands clutch at Dimitri's shirt, the easy way his eyes are closed, the absence of the everpresent lines of worry and stress and denying himself that he sees every time he looks in the mirror. This is a Felix who has everything he ever wanted. His brother, his father, his friends. Dimitri.

Spitting image and vague shared taste in food aside, Felix has nothing in common with this other version of himself. Or well, almost nothing in common. Felix stares at the picture and tries to figure out if it makes him feel better or worse that loving Dimitri seems to be written in his very fucking essence. 

For the first time, he thinks about the other him back home. About the other him with his Dimitri. Felix scowls at the thought, something uncomfortably similar to jealousy brewing in his stomach. 

He shakes his head. Not a path he wants to go down, or else he’s going to start obsessing over what the other Felix was doing or saying or if he was touching Dimitri and— 

He gets up. He needs to do something else. 

He wanders into the living room, sparing a glance at the slashed couch but making his way over to one of the single armchairs. On the table is another note. 

Felix :)

The TV can be complicated but there should be more than enough on Netflix to occupy you. Grab the smaller remote and press the very top button, with a circle and a line through it, that will turn the television on. Then press the red button on the bottom of the remote that says “Netflix.” If you go onto my Felix’s account, you’ll probably find something you’ll like. 

Enjoy!!

Felix picks up the smaller of the devices that is sitting on the table and does as he was instructed. The “television” flares to life, and Felix presses the red button on the bottom. A screen comes up with four pictures on it, labelled as “Dimitri,” “Felix,” “Dedue,” and “Asshats.” Felix doesn’t really know what any of this means, but he clicks the picture that corresponds with his name. Eventually a page with a lot of different things going on comes up, and Felix is almost immediately overwhelmed by the colour and the sound and a whole bunch of things he doesn’t understand. He’s not sure what a drag race is, or a love island; eventually he sees something that says recommended for you and then beneath it, some kind of picture with a sword on it. Felix uses the arrows on the small device to navigate, and he presses the middle button to start whatever the hell this is. Dimitri had given him a brief rundown on television and movies, so he isn’t completely caught off guard when the television box changes the picture to show a man standing in a room filled with various weapons, and when he starts to talk Felix knows that he isn’t talking to him. 

He settles back into the armchair. 

A few hours later, the phone starts to make an ungodly noise. 

Felix jerks out of his reverie; he’s not sure how long he’s been watching this show for, but it’s been long enough that his muscles are cramped from sitting in one position for too long. He grabs the phone and sees that it says Dimitri on it, along with a green button and a red button. Dimitri had showed him this, too; he presses the green button and holds the phone to his ear. 

“HELLO?”

“Oh, Felix, you — you don’t have to yell. I can hear you perfectly fine.” 

Dimitri’s voice is crystal clear in his ear, as if he were beside him. It’s… close, and intimate, and it makes Felix shudder. 

“I just wanted to check-in and make sure you were okay. Is everything alright? Did you find the notes? Could you work everything alright?”

“I found the notes,” Felix says, forcing grumpiness into his voice to hide how much he had liked them. “And I got everything working. I’m watching something on that box about making weapons. It’s really good.”

Dimitri chuckles. It makes Felix’s toes curl. It’s like he’s speaking right in his fucking ear. Felix swallows. 

“Good, I’m glad. I’ll be home in about two hours, I’ll bring food.”

“Yeah, okay,” Felix says, eyes finding their way back to the television screen, entranced by the sound of weapon making. Dimitri chuckles again. 

“I’m glad you found something to occupy yourself. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Uh-huh,” Felix says. He lets the phone drop and goes back to the show. 

Felix gets lost in the world of what Dimitri will later call “Netflix binging”; he barely notices Dimitri come home, which is saying something, considering how battle honed his senses were. 

“Hey,” Dimitri says, smiling at where Felix is curled up in the armchair in a blanket, eyes fixed on the television. Dimitri walks over and picks up the remote, pressing a button that makes the screen pause. Felix looks up at him in surprise. “Help with dinner,” Dimitri says, and Felix gets up and listens. He takes one of the big bags Dimitri has in his arms and brings it over to the kitchen table. He’s not sure what it is, but it smells wonderful. 

“Good old fashioned burgers,” Dimitri says happily. “With a side of poutine and a milkshake. We can eat while we watch your show, if you’d like. Honestly, you’re probably almost finished it if you’ve been watching all day.”

Felix opens one of the containers he’s pulled from the bag and is assaulted by one of the best smelling things he’s ever smelled in his life. Whatever it is, it’s absolutely smothered in gravy and cheese curds. Felix can feel his mouth-watering, but — 

“Before I eat this, is there somewhere I can train tonight? I have to fight in a war later, you know.”

Dimitri smiles as he helps unload the food. “This building has a gym. I’ll show it to you later, it’s open 24 hours a day.”

With that in mind, Felix sits down. He’s just about to start eating when his phone vibrates, and he sees another message from Sylvain: you still haven’t answered me bitch i better see you tonight 

Felix looks up at Dimitri and says, “This thing keeps getting messages from Sylvain. He mentioned something about Dedue’s birthday?”

Felix watches as what little colour is in Dimitri’s pale face drains away. “Oh, Goddess,” he says. “Dedue’s birthday. I got so caught up with all this… alternate universe stuff and my Felix missing that I — shit, shit, shit.”

“You can go,” Felix says, digging into his poutine. “I’ll be fine by myself.” He can watch more of this show. 

Dimitri does not seem comforted by this. He leans forward and rests his face in his hands. 

“Felix… he really needed to be there tonight.”

It takes Felix a minute to realize what Dimitri is saying. He looks at him in disbelief. 

“Tell them I don’t feel well.”

“We use that excuse constantly, they’ll know we’re lying. This is important, it’s Dedue’s birthday. They’re finally starting to sort of become friends. Felix promised he’d go.”

Felix wants to remark that maybe he shouldn’t have gotten sucked into a parallel universe then, but that was technically his fault. 

“What if people try to talk to me? Or ask me something about this weird fucking world?”

Dimitri looks up eagerly, perhaps able to tell that Felix was wavering. “I’ll stick by you the whole time. And also… listen, he’s the love of my life, but he’s an asshole. If you tell someone to fuck off no one will think twice about it.”

He’s the love of my life. He could just say that, so easily. Throw it out into the world like some casual thing, a fact of life, nothing new. The words ricochet around in Felix’s brain. 

Felix groans in frustration but he says, “ Fine. But we’re leaving early.”

Dimitri grins at him, and he looks so happy that Felix can’t bring himself to be too annoyed. When was the last time he’d seen Dimitri look so unabashedly happy? Not since they were children, certainly. 

“Thank you, Felix, truly. And I know my Felix will thank you also.”

Felix can feel himself turning red. “Whatever, you don’t have to make a big deal out of it. Tell me about this stupid party.”

“It’s at Sylvain’s. That’s probably why he was bothering you about it. I’m sure many of the people there will be people you recognize from your universe! And most of them will be drunk anyway, so I doubt they’ll notice if you’re weird or anything.” Felix isn’t sure if that’s supposed to make him feel better. “Oh, Felix, thank you. I know how much you don’t want to do this. My Felix never wants to do it, so I can’t imagine how much worse it is in another universe. Thank you.”

Now Felix is really blushing. He clears his throat. His mouth is very dry. He takes a large drink from his milkshake, and then another because it’s really good. When he’s pretty sure he can talk without his voice cracking, he snaps out, “I told you not to make a big deal out of it.”

Dimitri smiles sweetly at him. “Sorry, sorry. We have a few hours still before we have to go anywhere. Let’s finish eating.”

Felix sighs, but he turns eagerly back to his poutine anyway. Tonight could very well be a disaster, and likely will be… but it isn’t like he has anything else to do, and since he’s the one who started this mess, he should probably do what he could to make sure he doesn’t fuck up this Felix’s life. 

He takes a deep, steadying breath, anxiety already starting up in his stomach. It was one party. How bad could it really be?

Chapter Text

“So then Vin Diesel has to do the stupid dance that the dad taught the kid in order to get the GHOST thing, meanwhile the daughter is driving the van really fast to get all the cops to come to the house, and there’s a really big fight scene and then Vin Diesel decides to stay and date the principal and I think he might teach wrestling? I don’t remember, I’m usually asleep by this point.”

Dimitri continues to look at him with a small smile as Felix talks. “And you said this is my favourite… movie?”

Felix stabs at his dinner. “Yeah, I don’t get it either. But you literally always cry.”

“I admit I didn’t understand about half the words you said, but… well, it sounds like a wonderful tale about finding family in unexpected places, and how important it is not to judge people too harshly on appearances or first impressions. I can see why it would be my favourite.”

Felix stares at him in disbelief. “Unbelievable. I can’t believe you got all that out of the plot of the fucking Pacifier . And you don’t even know what a movie is.” He laughs. “Bad taste in every universe, I guess.”  

Dimitri gives him another one of those half smiles. It’s like he’s afraid to smile too largely, to have too much fun. Felix guesses that makes sense, given that he’s fighting a war against his sister and kings were probably supposed to be stoic and boring, or some shit, but it’s still sad to see. Despite the clear differences, when he looks at Dimitri he still just sees Dimitri. Not a king. 

“Can I ask a question?”

Dimitri looks up from his dinner. “I will do my best to answer.”

“I— you could have just said yes. People talk funny here. They also stare. That’s my question. Why is everyone fucking staring? Is it because you’re a king?”

Dimitri’s eyes flick about the room; everyone really is staring, and they have been since the two of them sat down. 

“No,” Dimitri says. “Or, well, yes, actually, but this time I believe most people are staring because we are not often… seen together. Unless we’re sparring, or the Professor invites us to a meal. Most people here have never seen us so friendly.” His voice is forcibly neutral, but Felix can hear carefully contained emotion simmering beneath. 

“What do you mean, we’re not seen together? That we’re not friendly? You avoided this question before, but I need an answer. What the fuck happened between you and this Felix?”

Dimitri stares rather morosely down at his dinner and then says, “I— not here.”

Felix stands up. He doesn’t think he can handle anymore of whatever the hell he’s eating for dinner. “Let’s go, then,” he says, before Dimitri can chicken out and change his mind. Dimitri stares up at him for a moment before he sighs through his nose and stands. Felix heads out of the dining hall, Dimitri easily keeping up with his strides. Each step he took clanged. Felix shoots him a glance. 

“Do you change your boots if you have to do something stealthy?”

Dimitri looks at him in surprise, and then he laughs. It’s not a very big laugh, but it’s still a laugh, and it makes Felix smile back at him, happy to hear it— except when Dimitri sees him smiling, something very sad crosses his face, and somber silence settles over them again. After a few minutes Dimitri finally asks, “Am I leading or are you? Where are we going?”

“Third floor,” Felix answers easily. The balcony garden wasn’t quite as nice as it was in his time, but he’d seen it when he’d gone to check out the tablet, and he could make it work. Felix walks out the doors leading to it but then goes to sit with his back against the wall right by the entrance. Dimitri frowns slightly in confusion before he settles down beside Felix on the ground. 

“Why are we sitting here?”

“Because if someone comes looking for you they’ll probably just do a quick glance out here and hopefully won’t see us. I have a lot of fucking questions and I’m not letting anyone steal you away until you’ve answered them.”

Dimitri sighs but nods obligingly, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “I suppose we really have no way of knowing how long you’re going to be here. By all rights you deserve to know the truth. I just… it’s not a pleasant story.”

“Just tell me,” Felix says, annoyed. “I don’t understand what could have happened that would ever make me cut you off.”

“You say that because you are thinking of me as your Dimitri,” Dimitri says sadly. “And perhaps there is nothing he could do, in your world. But I…” He’s looking straight ahead, but his eyes are unfocused, like he’s seeing something Felix can’t. “I am more beast than man, I fear. And there were many lines I crossed that Felix and I could not come back from.”

“Dimitri,” he says, and then he says it again until Dimitri turns to look at him. “ Tell me.”

And Dimitri does.

He starts at the beginning, the very beginning. He gives a brief explanation of the Fhaerghus hierarchy, explaining that other than the royal family the Fraldarius’ were the highest ranking nobles in Fhaerghus; that Rodrigue served as the King’s Shield for Lambert, a position that would fall to Felix when Dimitri took the throne, as the eldest Fraldarius son with a Crest. 

“Glenn didn’t have a Crest?”

Dimitri shakes his head. “Glenn went down the path of knighthood. He… oh, you should have seen him, Felix. His talent was unmatched, and he was made a knight in the Royal Guard when he was only fifteen.”

“Ingrid— Ingrid said they were engaged.”

“Yes,” Dimitri says, head tipped back against the wall, gaze off over the horizon. “From birth. Financially, Galatea… well, when Ingrid was born with a Crest her father went immediately to yours. Our families were all very close, and it was an excellent match.”

“For a baby. I’m beginning to understand why we get rid of those fucking things.”

Dimitri looks at him in interest. “Yes, you mentioned something about that. You said Crests are removed in your world. How does that work?”

Felix shrugs. “I don’t know. They do it in the hospital when you’re born. Something about, uh, blood? They went over it in high school science, but I don’t really remember.”

“Hmm,” Dimitri says, looking away again. “Ingrid loved and admired Glenn very much,” he says, picking up where they left off. “And he was fond of her too, although always more so as a sister than his betrothed. We would all spend hours watching Glenn train, and then we’d spend hours on top of that trying to imitate him.

“And then…” his eye closes. Felix wants to smooth out every line in his face. “And then, Duscur…” Dimitri lifts his hands and covers his face with them. Felix’s hand reaches out, but he’s not sure if Dimitri wants comfort. Felix is beginning to think that once again he underestimated how fucked up this world was, and that this story about Dimitri’s fallout with his Felix is going to be a lot more than he bargained for. 

“It was a diplomatic mission,” Dimitri says dully. “I went with my father and stepmother, and Glenn came as part of the guard. And I was the only one who came home.” He shakes his head, hands dropping away. “I watched as they were all slaughtered, saw their faces twisted in pain and regret. Everyone immediately turned on the people of Duscur and blamed them for the attack, and they wouldn’t listen to me when— I was only thirteen at that time, and had suffered grievous injuries during the attack. No one would believe me when I told them Duscur had not been at fault. They said I didn’t know what I was talking about, that I wasn’t seeing things clearly. We annexed it,” he says bitterly. “And massacred their people. And all I could do was save one person.”

“Dedue,” Felix assumes. His voice is quiet. 

“After Duscur, I became a different person,” Dimitri continues. “I was haunted by the ghosts of the people I’d lost. They… they wanted revenge. They wanted blood. My father, and my stepmother, and Glenn. I heard their voices, their demands, and I listened. Two years later Felix and I fought together to squash a western rebellion and I— it was slaughter, and I was ruthless, and bloodthirsty, and cruel, and Felix saw it all, saw me doing it in the name of his brother. Of course he hated me,” he says wryly. “He saw me for how I truly was, and no one would believe him when he warned them, not until two years later when the war started and everyone witnessed my descent.”

Felix’s stomach is twisted up in knots, but Dimitri, somehow, still isn’t done. 

“The war started five years ago, when Garreg Mach fell. I was accused of murdering my uncle, branded a traitor for regicide, and sentenced to execution while Cornelia gave Fhaerghus over to the Empire.” He’s still saying all these horrible words with such a flat tone, as if it isn’t the most horrific thing Felix has ever heard. “Dedue helped me escape, but I… I believed him lost in the attempt, and he joined the ghosts who haunted me and propelled me forward into madness and savagery.” He pauses. “No, I suppose I cannot blame them for my cruelty, for the way I stalked the country for five years, becoming a sadistic kind of ghost myself. The things I did to those soldiers haunt me to this very day, as they should. For five years I barely lived, and I still think that if I hadn’t had my Crest I would have died. It kept my body alive while I lost more and more of my mind. Eventually I reunited with the Professor and everyone else, but I was still a beast. I cared only for reaching the Empire and getting Edelgard’s head, so the voices in my head would stop demanding justice. Even when Dedue returned to us alive, the voices didn’t stop. I didn’t stop. And then—” his voice dips, careful neutrality dropping away for grief. “A few moons ago, someone tried to kill me, someone we weren’t expecting. They would have succeeded, too, except your father… Rodrigue sacrificed himself for me. And I— I couldn’t do it anymore, I—”

Felix is moving before he’s even fully aware of it, springing up and throwing one of his legs over Dimitri’s, seating himself in his lap as he wraps his arms tightly around Dimitri’s neck and hugs him. “I’m sorry,” he says, wishing Dimitri’s armour wasn’t between them. “I’m sorry you had to live through all of that,” he says into Dimitri’s ear, still hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry.”

And after a few moments with Dimitri sitting tense beneath him, Felix finally feels his arms rise and wrap hesitantly around his waist. When Felix doesn’t move away, Dimitri’s arms get tighter, and he drops his head to Felix’s shoulder, taking shaky breaths as Felix strokes the hair at the nape of his neck, the way his Dimitri likes. 

He’s not sure how long they sit there, arms around each other as Dimitri shakes, but eventually he seems to settle down, breaths evening out and the strength of his arms around Felix’s waist letting up a bit, letting him take a much needed deep breath of air— but still neither of them move.

“When was the last time anyone gave you a hug?” Felix mutters. 

Dimitri thinks for a moment and then chuckles weakly. “I can’t remember,” he says, which is such a sad fucking sentence that Felix’s arms tighten around his neck again. 

“This world fucking sucks,” he says. One of Dimitri’s gauntlets rests on Felix’s back, the other still looped around his waist. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that he was home. 

Almost. 

“I admit I didn’t expect this from you… are you a big hugger, Felix?”

“Fuck no,” Felix snorts. “But it’s you. You make me break all my rules.”

Dimitri tenses for a moment before he eases. “Thank you, Felix,” he says, forehead still pressed to Felix’s shoulder. “Do you think… could we possibly… stay here for a bit longer? We don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable but—”

Felix tugs playfully at his hair. “Shut up,” he says. “I’ll hug you for as long as you want, idiot.”

“Thank you, Felix,” he says again, softly, almost lost in Felix’s stupid puffy sleeves. Felix huffs and adjusts slightly so he’s more comfortable, and they sit there like that until the sun has fully set.

Chapter Text

“Don’t worry,” Dimitri had said. “I’ll stick with you the whole time.” And then, as soon as they’d entered Sylvain’s massive condo, they’d been swarmed by people; Dimitri was pulled away by Ashe and Hapi, and Felix is almost immediately pulled into Sylvain’s side and dragged through the apartment. 

“Dimitri—” He tries to tug away from Sylvain, but he squeezes Felix tighter. 

“You’ll survive without him for fifteen minutes, you codependent bitch,” Sylvain says with a laugh. “Here, I have something for you.”

“What?” Felix says in distrust. “I don’t want it.”

“Yes you do,” Sylvain says, pushing Felix into the kitchen and then handing him some kind of small, square chocolate cake. Felix looks at it. 

“I don’t like sweet things,” Felix says, trying to hand it back to Sylvain. Sylvain looks at him in both fondness and exasperation. 

“Yeah, dude, I know, but remember you had this last time I threw a party?” He gives Felix a very meaningful look that Felix absolutely does not understand. “And you really liked it, and it helped you relax, and you had a good time?” Sylvain nudges him. Felix really wished he knew what the hell Sylvain was trying to imply right now, but he doesn’t want to ask too much and make him suspicious. Besides, it’s just a little cake. It’s not going to kill him. 

It takes forty-five minutes for the cake to try to kill him. 

Dimitri finds him shortly after he’s eaten what Sylvain called the brownie; it had a strange aftertaste that Felix couldn’t quite place, and it didn’t taste too terribly sweet, but he’s not sure why his other self had liked it so much. For about forty-five minutes Felix follows Dimitri around and does his best to engage with as few people as possible, with the exception of wishing Dedue a genuine happy birthday because Dimitri had asked him to. Dimitri keeps an arm around him to ensure they don’t get separated again, and it’s kind of… really nice. It’s too nice. Felix hates how nice it is. 

And then, suddenly, Felix is sitting with Ashe and Caspar, and he is absolutely going ham on this jar of peanut butter. He has no idea where he got it from. He’s not entirely sure how he ended up with Ashe and Caspar, who are arguing about something Felix doesn’t understand (he can hear them perfectly, he just has no idea what ‘cat petting mechanics in video games’ are). He has a big spoon in one hand. He looks at it blearily. It’s laden down with peanut butter. 

Felix puts it in his mouth. It tastes so fucking good. Felix thinks he might be in heaven. 

The next time Felix becomes aware of himself and his body, he has lost his jar of peanut butter, which he briefly mourns, before he focuses on the people he’s with; this time it’s Yuri and Ingrid, who are looking at him like he’d crawled onto the couch between them and completely interrupted their conversation to curl up on Ingrid’s shoulder (he had). He blinks at Yuri. 

“In my world,” he says slowly, “You live under Garreg Mach and you run a gang and you’re really mysterious.”

Yuri cocks his head. Felix stares at him. Yuri grins and then turns away to yell out, “Hey, Sylvain. Got anymore of whatever the fuck you gave Felix?” He gets off the couch to find Sylvain, and Felix takes the opportunity to stretch out and drop his head in Ingrid’s lap. She looks down at him in concern. 

“Are you okay?”

Felix closes his eyes. He feels all floaty. “Sylvain gave me something called a brownie,” Felix says. “Tasted funny. Do you know where my peanut butter went?”

“And it’s affecting you this much?” Ingrid asks worriedly. “You weren’t this bad the last time you had one. I hope Sylvain didn’t put anything else in it.”

Felix sighs. “I miss you,” he mutters. “I miss everyone.”

Ingrid looks at him quizzically before she very carefully lifts her hand and runs it through Felix’s hair. He sighs happily and turns into it; her fingers help ground him, and he doesn’t feel like he’s going to float away anymore. 

“What are you talking about?” She says softly. “We’re all right here.”

“No,” he says, suddenly aware of how sleepy he is. “You’re all so far away.”

The next time Felix returns to consciousness (where does he go? What does he do? He’s not sure), he is being cradled against a very warm, very big chest. Felix sighs and shoves himself more towards the warmth, shoving his nose into somebody’s neck. When he does this, big hands come up to rub across his back and push some of his hair out of the way of his face. He’s not sure when he lost his ponytail. 

“Felix,” Dimitri says, and the tenor and cadence and sound of his voice make Felix feel so very warm, although he belatedly picks up on the concern in Dimitri’s tone. “I’m so sorry,” he says, speaking quietly into Felix’s ear as he’s held against Dimitri’s chest. It makes him shiver. His lips brush against the shell of Felix’s ear as he talks, and Felix wishes he would move his head a bit and press his lips to Felix’s throat instead. He smells so good. Felix can count his eyelashes, can feel his breath against his face, smelling like those weird things Dimitri eats for breakfast— Pop Tarts, or whatever they’re called. The tiniest hint of strawberries. “I didn’t even think to warn you about— I completely forgot. I tried searching for you, but it’s hard to pull yourself away from a crowd of drunk people. I’m so sorry. You’re probably feeling really weird, but it’s okay, it’ll wear off in some time. I wanted to wait until you were awake, but we can go home now. You can sleep this off.”

Felix hums and stays put, nuzzling into Dimitri’s neck again. “Don’t wanna,” he says. “M’all fuzzy and floaty. And you’re warm. Wanna stay here.”

Dimitri’s arm wraps around him more firmly, and Felix lets out a happy sigh as he’s shifted slightly, Dimitri’s arms around him more securely, Felix’s arms limp in his lap as his head rests on Dimitri’s shoulder. “As soon as you want to leave, tell me,” Dimitri says quietly. 

Felix nods. He noses at the hard line of Dimitri’s jaw, rubs against his throat like some kind of cat, tries to get closer. It isn’t until his lips skim across Dimitri’s jaw that Dimitri pulls away slightly and murmurs, “Felix.”

“Miss you,” he says into Dimitri’s neck, thinking of a single blue eye that shines like the sun, of scarred hands holding a lance, of a chilling laugh in the holy tomb. “You’re so far away. My fault. Kinda yours too, though. But mostly mine. Pushed you away.”

A big hand smooths down his back. Felix closes his eyes and leans into Dimitri’s warmth. “I’m in love with you,” he says. Dimitri’s hand never stops moving. Felix’s brain catches up with his mouth and he lifts his head to add an addendum: “I mean, not you, you. My you. Not that you’re mine—”

“I understand, Felix,” Dimitri says quietly. Felix lets his head drop again. 

“Never told anyone that,” he mutters. “Not even myself.”

“Why not?” Dimitri asks. Felix can feel the deep rumble of his voice just as much as he can hear it. 

“Don’t deserve it,” he answers easily. “Don’t deserve you. Too much shit happened. It got all fucked up. He should hate me.” His head is so fucking fuzzy. He thinks about every harsh word flung at Dimitri’s feet, thinks about that day he found out Dimitri had been executed, thinks about trekking through the crumbling remains of Faerghus because he couldn’t allow himself to even consider that Dimitri was truly gone. 

“Dimitri,” he says hoarsely. “I want to go home.”

“Okay,” Dimitri says immediately, hands moving as if to help Felix up off his lap, but he shakes his head and buries his face harder into Dimitri’s shoulder. 

“No,” he says. “I want to go home.”

Dimitri sighs and hugs Felix a little tighter to himself. “I know, Felix,” he says soothingly. “I know it seems like forever, but Sunday we’ll get you to Garreg Mach and we’ll convince the archbishop to help us. I promise. I’ll get you home.”

Felix’s chest feels very tight. It’s getting a little harder to breathe. He lifts his head from Dimitri’s shirt and tries to take a few gulps of fresh air, but it doesn’t help, and his breathing speeds up as he begins to panic. 

“What if I’m too late?” He asks, voice barely more than a whisper, too afraid to speak aloud the thoughts in his head in case that makes them come true. “What if I’m too late, and I get back home and the war is lost or you’re dead, or Sylvain or Ingrid or Annette because I wasn’t there to protect them, I can’t— I can’t lose them like Glenn, like my father—” he’s so fucking alone. When did he become so alone? “I need to be there, I need to keep them all safe—”

“Hey, hey,” Dimitri says, voice calm and even, and Felix feels lips press to his forehead, to his temple, to his cheeks as he shakes in Dimitri’s arms. “You’re freaking out, Felix,” which is a bit of a fucking understatement— “The pot is definitely not helping,” Dimitri mutters, seemingly to himself, as he moves away slightly to give himself room to wipe the tears pouring down Felix's face without permission. “This is a perfect recipe for a bad trip.” He pulls Felix into another hug, lips pressed to the top of his head. They touch so easily; Dimitri can reach out towards him without fear that Felix will bite back. An easy familiarity Felix had once upon a time, before he lost it along with everything else. 

“Listen to me,” Dimitri says firmly. “I won’t pretend that I understand what’s going on in your world, but… you’ve lost a lot of people, and that can really change a person. I get that. But you can’t keep everyone safe, Felix, it just isn’t possible. You’re only human. And as for your Dimitri… I don’t know what went on between you two, but I promise you he doesn’t hate you.”

“How do you know?” Felix asks, and he so desperately wants Dimitri to have an answer, so desperately wants him to be right. 

Dimitri chuckles and presses his lips to the area just beneath Felix’s eye. “Because I can’t imagine a world out there where I don’t love you with everything I am.”

Felix sniffles into his shoulder. “Can we go back to your apartment, now,” he says tiredly. 

“Of course,” Dimitri says, and when Felix makes no move to get up, Dimitri laughs fondly and carries him. 

Felix wakes up in Dimitri’s bed. He knows it’s Dimitri’s bed, because Dimitri is in it. Felix rolls over and groans. He tries valiantly to remember last night, but gets only bits and pieces that he can’t quite patch together into a whole. 

“What the fuck happened to me,” he says. Beside him, Dimitri stirs. 

“Mm,” he says, struggling in the space between asleep and awake. His eyes open slowly, and he smiles when he sees Felix. He has a crease on the side of his face from the pillow. It’s a sight that is so soft and tender it would have thrown Felix into a crisis if he weren’t currently already in the middle of at least three crises. “Good morning,” Dimitri says, once he’s woken up a bit more. “How are you feeling?”

“Weird,” Felix says. “My mouth is really dry. What happened?”

Dimitri hands him a water bottle first, and Felix sits up to take it, drinking gratefully. Dimitri doesn’t sit up, but he does lean up on his elbow as he watches Felix. 

“You ate a pot brownie,” he says, and then realizes that doesn’t help Felix at all, because he elaborates. “It’s a drug, makes you get high and loopy. My Felix had had one last time, so I know Sylvain was just trying to help… I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight, but I didn’t think you could get up to so much trouble in five minutes.”

“I don’t remember much,” Felix reluctantly admits, taking another drink from the water bottle. 

“That’s normal,” Dimitri assures him. “And I was able to stick by you for most of the night. There were just a few times you got away from me, but you didn’t really do much. At one point you just napped on Ingrid’s lap for almost an hour. And you did… technically tell Yuri that you were from a different universe, but that just made everyone think Sylvain’s weed was really good, so no concerns there.”

Felix shakes his head and keeps drinking his water. He hadn’t spent a lot of time in this room, and the times when he was in here he’d tried not to look at things too closely. There were two swords (Felix’s favourites, apparently, and thus they’d been allowed in the main bedroom) on the walls, along with a bunch of different pictures and a calendar with a cat on it. Both side tables are in use, and he can see, as he looks around, little hints of things he likes and things Dimitri likes, all coming together to create a space that was just for them. It makes longing and jealousy ache in Felix’s chest. 

“You also…” Dimitri pauses, as if he’s not sure whether he should say what he wants. “You also told me about how you’re in love with your Dimitri.”

Hearing the words aloud, in his right mind, feels like a lightning bolt striking through his spine. His worst kept secret, spoken by the lips he dreams about because he hasn’t figured out a way to control his fucking subconscious and make it behave. 

“I’m sorry to bring it up,” Dimitri continues, perhaps able to tell from the look on Felix’s face that he was freaking out. “I know you weren’t in your right mind when you told me, and that you hate being vulnerable, and that it’s not really any of my business, but— you told me you didn’t deserve him. That he should hate you. And I can’t understand that.”

Felix draws one of his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around it, like if he guards his heart it won’t hurt as much. “It’s a long story,” he says dully, looking off to the side and away from Dimitri’s brightness. “But I… I’ve been needlessly cruel to him. And I-I cut myself off from everyone after Glenn died, tried to get stronger so I wouldn’t lose anyone ever again, and I…” his head is fucking spinning. He still feels kind of off and woozy, and the huge blank spots in his memory from last night are freaking him out. “I was scared and sad and lonely and so fucking angry and you— and he—” he drops his forehead onto his knee. “I said horrible, vicious things, and I haven’t apologized. I don’t know how, because he— so it doesn’t matter how I feel,” he finishes miserably. “The fact that we’ve made it this far, that he still wants me as his shield is… more than I was expecting.”

“You said that he should hate you.”

Felix nods, forehead still pressed to his knee, which is a bad idea because it makes his head spin again. 

“I don’t believe that.”

Felix snorts in disbelief. “You don’t even know him.”

“He’s me,” Dimitri says, and Felix looks up in surprise because he sounds so much like Dimitri, like his Dimitri, fierce and determined and ready to lead. “And you’re you. Talk to him when you get back to your world, Felix. Give him the chance to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” He snaps this at Dimitri, annoyed, because he can feel the hope blooming in his chest, can’t stop the thoughts that fly through his head faster than he can keep up, going through every interaction he and Dimitri had ever had, every word they’d ever said, every late night spent in the training grounds sparring because they lost track of time, the only one who could ever keep up with Felix— “Why would he want me?” He wills his voice not to break. “After everything I have said and done to him. Why would he want me?”

Dimitri’s hand reaches out and cups Felix’s cheek with one big hand, lifting his face and giving Felix a smile that is soft and tender and full of love and so much more than Felix deserves. He feels like he’s going to burn up in it. 

“Because it’s you,” Dimitri says, in answer to his question. “How could I not?”

And Felix—

Felix leans forward and kisses him. Scrambles awkwardly onto his knees and grabs a fistful of Dimitri’s shirt and kisses him, lips pushed hard against Dimitri’s. Felix does not let himself think, just continues to give Dimitri what Felix is fairly confident must be the worst kiss of his entire life. 

He expects Dimitri to push him away, reject him nicely, the same way he’s sure his Dimitri would if Felix ever broke and told him the truth. Instead Dimitri brings his hand back up to Felix’s face, fingers gripping Felix’s chin as he slows him down; Dimitri pulls back and Felix takes a much needed breath and then Dimitri brings him in for another kiss, and this one is much better. Dimitri’s lips are very soft, and his hands are very big and warm, and Felix isn’t entirely certain how to do any of this so he kind of just follows his lead. He’s not sure why Dimitri is kissing him back; it doesn’t feel like pity, not the way Dimitri’s other arm clutches Felix around the waist and holds him incredibly tightly. Maybe he just missed his Felix, and was taking advantage of the next best thing— or maybe it was just his body reacting to a body it knew so well, even if the mind was a little bit different. 

Whatever it is, Dimitri kisses him back, and he keeps kissing him back for a bit before he pulls back and speaks to Felix in a soothing voice. “It’s okay,” he says, and it isn’t until he brings his thumbs up to wipe away Felix’s tears that he even realizes he’s crying. How embarrassing. 

Felix buries his head in Dimitri’s chest. It feels vaguely familiar, like he’s done it before, although he certainly hasn’t, unless that’s one of the missing memories from last night. 

“It’s okay,” Dimitri says again, and it’s really, really not, but Felix appreciates it anyway. He lets himself be held for a while, lips feeling tingly and swollen, skin burning from any place Dimitri had touched him. He wants to do that again, but with calloused hands running down his body and the black of Dimitri’s eyepatch in his peripheral vision as Felix took everything Dimitri was willing to give him. 

Eventually Felix is feeling calmer and more relaxed, and he’s able to ask, “Do you think your Felix will be upset about this?”

Dimitri thinks about this. “I don’t think so,” he finally says. “You’re still him, after all. Frankly he’s probably trying to seduce your Dimitri as we speak.”

Felix sits up straight and looks at him in horror. Dimitri smiles and then immediately tries to pretend he isn’t. “Probably not,” he says, although Felix isn’t sure if he trusts that. Great, another concern to add to his list, that he’ll get home to find out Dimitri had fallen in love with another fucking Felix instead of him. 

Dimitri presses a kiss to his temple and then says, “Tell me the things you’ve said to him.”

Felix stiffens, but he doesn’t try to move away. “I can’t,” he says weakly. 

“I won’t judge you for them,” Dimitri says, but Felix knows he’s saying that because he doesn’t know what he’s getting into. Doesn’t know all that Felix has done.

“You will. And you should,” Felix says. 

Dimitri thinks about this. His fingers come up to play with Felix’s hair. “Tell me how he hurt you.”

Felix thinks of blue eyes colder than anything he’d ever seen, blood splattered across Dimitri’s face and in his mouth and he didn’t even seem to notice or care, swinging his lance wide and grinning each time he cut down someone else, as if they were nothing more than lumps of meat or an animal they needed to hunt for food. He thinks about the first time Dimitri had seen him at Garreg Mach all those months ago, when he’d called Felix by Glenn’s name and promised Felix that he would bring him Edelgard’s head. 

“How do you know he hurt me?” He asks, mumbling it into Dimitri’s shoulder.

“You are not a needlessly cruel person, Felix,” Dimitri says, quoting Felix’s own words at him. “I have only spent two days with you and I know that. And I can… I can see it sometimes, in the way you look at me.” He pulls back to look Felix in the eye, pushing some of his hair out of his face. “Sometimes you look at me and you seem so sad. It breaks my heart.”

Felix sticks his nose in Dimitri’s neck and sighs. “You really want to know?”

“Yes,” Dimitri says, lips moving against Felix’s skin. “I want to know everything.”

So Felix tells him. 

Chapter Text

Everyone is getting ready for the march on Enbarr, which makes sense, Felix guesses. No cars or planes, just… horses. Dimitri is incredibly busy that morning and Felix doesn’t really get a chance to see him or talk to him; Ingrid and Sylvain stick by him and tell him what to do, but he notices a heavy tension between them that makes things a little more awkward. 

“So, like…” he says, as he helps (read: watches) the two of them saddle up the horses and pegasi. “What exactly is the plan?”

Sylvain shrugs, not looking away from his horse. “Win?”

Ingrid scowls at him. Maybe Felix shouldn’t have told them they were in love in another universe two days before they had to fight a war. Hindsight is 20/20, and all that. 

“Before we march on Enbarr, His Majesty is planning on… meeting with Edelgard,” Ingrid says, in a tone of voice that says exactly what she thinks about that. “We must get through and conquer Enbarr, but our main forces will go straight to the Imperial Palace to meet Edelgard.”

“Assuming they don’t come to an agreement during this little meeting and call the whole thing off,” Sylvain says sardonically. Felix looks away, not sure what to say to any of this, to the anger and resentment and bitterness and, above all, the intense fear radiating off of Sylvain and Ingrid. Felix looks at them and fully realizes that they might die. He might die, if things go really wrong. He might die here and he’ll never get home and he’ll never see his Dimitri again or his brother or—

Felix takes a deep breath. He’s not going to have a panic attack here, in front of two people who were actually fighting and were actively putting themselves in danger. 

“What does Dimitri want to talk to Edelgard about?” He asks. 

“He… with all their history, I think he just wants a chance to clear some things up,” Sylvain says. Felix considers this.

“In your world,” Ingrid says. “Dimitri and Edelgard… are they close?”

Felix nods. “Lambert isn’t with Patricia anymore, they got divorced a few years ago, but Dimitri and Edelgard still consider themselves siblings. We… vacation together, and do holidays together, and Dimitri helped her pick out a ring for her girlfriend and—” He cuts off. “They’re close,” he finishes, and his throat feels tight. “Only one of them is going to survive this, right? It’s either Dimitri or Edelgard.” His voice is hollow. He thinks about Dorothea’s face when Edelgard proposed. 

“That’s how it has to be,” Ingrid says. “We’re well past the point of peaceful negotiations.”

Felix breathes through his nose and tries not to run away. 

On the ride to Enbarr, he sticks to the back with Flayn. 

Dimitri hadn’t been sure if Felix should even come, but he sure as hell was not staying behind at the Monastery by himself. His horse really doesn’t trust him, which is fine, because Felix doesn’t trust his horse, so even if he’d wanted to keep up with the main group at the front, he wouldn’t be able to. So he stays near Flayn, who keeps whispering words of encouragement to Felix’s stupid horse as he shifts about on the saddle to try and find some comfort for his aching muscles. 

“Never ridden a horse before?” Flayn asks politely. Felix grits his teeth. 

“No,” he says, glaring at the back of his horse’s head. “I’ve been to Ingrid’s stupid horse jumping shows, but I don’t go near the horses. They’re too big and their legs are like fingers. It’s fucked up.”

When he glances over, Flayn is looking at him curiously. “I don’t understand a lot of what you say, but I enjoy the way you speak.”

Felix is pretty sure that’s priestess talk for you talk funny. “Yeah, well, I don’t understand half of what you say, either. You talk old fashioned. And we’re in medieval times, so that means it’s really old fashioned.”

Flayn blushes and looks away. “O-oh! I suppose I just… never quite learned how to speak like the cool kids!”

Felix snorts. “Start by not calling them cool kids.”

They go back to riding in silence for a bit. Felix shifts on the saddle again. Maybe it would have been more comfortable to fly. He should have asked Ingrid if he could’ve gone with her. 

“It’s interesting to see the ways you differ from our Felix,” Flayn says suddenly. Felix looks over from where he’d been trying to see if riding side saddle would be any better (it’s not). “You aren’t quite as guarded as him, and you talk more. It’s not a bad thing!” She rushes to assure him, when he looks away self-consciously. “It’s just… interesting to see who our Felix could have been, maybe.”

“I don’t…” He sits back on his horse properly and stares at the ass of the horse in front of him, eyes zoning out. “When they told me about his brother… I don’t know who I would have become without Glenn.” He doesn’t want to. “And his father, and everything that happened with Dimitri— Glenn, and my dad, and Dimitri, they’re the people who influenced me the most, even if I’d never tell them that. Especially my old man.” Although maybe he should, now. You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone, and all that. “But I can’t imagine what I’d be without them. Who I would have turned into. What I would have had to do to survive that.”

“Once,” Flayn says solemnly, “Felix told me, ‘those who are weak lose everything, and they die. Those who are strong win, and live on.’” Felix thinks about that. Not exactly the kind of slogan to put up on office walls. “Felix lost almost everything,” she continues sadly. “And instead of letting it break him, he used it to become stronger. But sometimes he mistakes strength with loneliness, and that’s something you don’t do.” 

Strength and loneliness. Felix thinks about an alternate universe version of himself, one who’d been groomed from a young age to know his place was beneath Dimitri, that he was useful only with a sword in his hand. He thinks about what it would have been like to be thirteen and lose his brother, thinks about what it would have been like to see what Dimitri had described to him during that rebellion. If he were going to lose everything, what would he do?

He’d fight. He’d get strong enough that he’d fight and he’d win, and he’d protect everybody if he had to.

Maybe the other Felix and him aren’t so different after all; maybe all Felix was missing was the catalyst. 

Dimitri’s parley with Edelgard, to the surprise of no one, does not end in a sudden peace. They set up camp for the night with the heavy knowledge that when the sun rose, their final battle would be upon them. 

Felix is set up in a tent with Sylvain; he listens to his breathing even out, and then he waits for at least another hour, and when he sneaks out of the tent the camp is mostly quiet. The night guards are up, but they pay no mind to Felix, because for all they know, he is renowned warrior Felix Fraldarius who definitely belongs here, and definitely knows how to use a sword. He tries to do the whole faking confidence thing, stalking through the camp like he knows what he’s doing until he finally finds Dimitri’s tent. 

It’s not necessarily markedly different from the other tents, just bigger and with cloth embroidered with the Blaiddyd Crest. There are guards positioned outside, which makes sense, probably, since he was a king and everything, but definitely complicates his plan of sneaking into Dimitri’s tent in the middle of the night. He debates what to do before he decides to keep going with the whole, fake confidence thing. He walks right up to the guards and then gives them a look as if he’s annoyed that they’re standing in his way. 

“H-his Majesty is sleeping,” one of the guards says, a little shakily. Not the best trait for a guard. Felix can also see that there’s a light in there, which means Dimitri is not sleeping, and he continues to glare at the guard. He tries to convey some kind of aura like do you know who I am. The Felix in this world had a lot of prestige and power, and a reputation, and so Felix uses all of that to his advantage to stare the guard down. 

“Er, a-apologies, Your Grace,” which sounds very weird being said to Felix. “You can go in.”

Felix does without another glance at them. He feels very powerful. It’s a nice feeling. 

Dimitri’s tent isn’t huge, but there’s enough room for a cot and a small table that is overladen with papers and maps. Dimitri has taken off his armour and his gloves but remains in the black outfit he wore beneath it. Felix has a theory that these people wore so many layers because they had too much time to kill. Might as well take forty-five minutes to get dressed. 

Dimitri looks up, annoyance crossing his face at being disturbed, but it drops when he sees Felix, something Felix feels very smug about. “Felix,” he says quietly. “What are you doing?”

“Tomorrow you’re fighting the biggest battle of your life,” Felix says, shrugging. “I knew you wouldn’t be sleeping, even though you really should be. How much of fighting a war is just staring at maps? Be honest.”

Dimitri studies him carefully, and when he speaks there’s something a little like… wonder, in his voice. “You’re nervous.”

Given that Felix is practically hopping from foot to foot and speaking a mile a minute, he’s unsurprised Dimitri picked up on this. “I know I shouldn’t be freaking out when I’m going to be back here and you’re all going to be the ones doing the actual fighting,” he says, heart thumping in his chest at way too fast a rate. “But I’ve never done anything like this or been in any kind of situation like this. And you could just… you could just die tomorrow. You could all just die tomorrow. Gods, can I—” he gestures at Dimitri, who looks confused. 

“Can you what?”

“Can I— ugh, are you going to make me say it?”

“I truly just don’t know what you need, Felix.”

Felix closes his eyes and, cheeks burning, says, “Can I have a fucking hug?”

Dimitri looks shocked, and happy, and sad, but then he nods and steps forward. “Yes, of course,” he says, pulling Felix into an embrace, big arms coming up across Felix’s shoulders as he buries his face in Dimitri’s chest. 

“I could die here,” he mutters, not sure if Dimitri could even hear him. “And I’ll never see him again.”

Dimitri’s arms tighten around him. “I know it’s scary,” he murmurs in Felix’s ear, voice soft and comforting, wrapping around him in much the same way his hug feels. “But we are well prepared, and you will be kept safe. And when the war is over, we’ll have more resources and can do more research into what happened. Despite what Seteth says, I won’t give up. The library in Enbarr is huge, and I’m sure the royal family has a private library as well that likely has information the church does not, or wishes to keep hidden. We won’t stop, Felix,” he says, and his voice is thick, but there is iron determination in it. “I will get you back home, and I will bring my Felix back.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling back so Dimitri could hear him better but not far enough to step out of the hug. “With everything you have to deal with, you shouldn’t be comforting me.”

“I don’t mind,” Dimitri says. “Keeps my mind off things.”

“What kind of things?”

Dimitri pulls back a little bit and studies his face. The edges of his eyepatch are frayed, and there are bags under his eye. He brings a hand up to gently caress Felix’s face, and Felix leans into the touch. It’s almost the same as it always was: Dimitri talking him down from a panic attack. It’s just that this time, the reason for the panic attack was a little more extreme. 

“Things I never said,” Dimitri says quietly, thumb caressing across Felix’s cheek bone. “That I may never get to, anymore.”

“Dimitri,” Felix whispers. They’re so close he can count Dimitri’s eyelashes, so close that he can see right up close the way Dimitri is looking at him, love evident in his gaze. Felix goes up on his tiptoes so their eyes are more on level. “I could be him, if you want me to,” he says. 

Dimitri’s eyes drop to Felix’s lips, and his arms tighten around him slightly— but then he sighs and shakes his head, pushing Felix’s hair behind his ear. 

“Thank you, Felix,” he says, although it seems like kind of a weird thing to thank someone for. “But I… For all that you and he are so alike, your differences are stark. The way you look at me, and speak to me— I enjoy spending time with you, but you’re not the one—” He smiles sadly, and even though his words are soft they still cut Felix to the bone. “You’re not the Felix I’m in love with.”

Felix tries not to take that personally and mostly succeeds. “How does he look at you?”

Dimitri thinks about this for a minute, and the answer he gives is not the answer Felix had expected. “Like I am constantly disappointing him.”

Felix’s eyebrows draw together. “And you like that?”

Dimitri gives a soft laugh. “It means he still expects things of me. The day I stop disappointing him is the day he stops having faith in me. I hope it never comes.”

Felix understands, or at least he thinks he does. It’s impossible to forget that this isn’t his Dimitri. Would he be happy with this one? Probably— he can’t imagine any Dimitri not making him happy. But he wouldn’t be able to stop the comparison, to think about the Dimitri he’d left behind, the one he’d fallen in love with. 

“Could I stay here tonight, at least?” Dimitri balks, and Felix remembers how different this world is from his. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, stepping away from Dimitri, averting his eyes. “I forgot you’re a king, and shit. Probably inappropriate. I’ll just—”

Dimitri grabs his hand and pulls him in close to him. “Stay with me,” he says softly. “We could all be dead tomorrow, after all.”

He sleeps with Dimitri curled around him, warm body pressed to his back. It’s the best he’s slept since he arrived in this universe, even though it’s only a few hours before Dimitri is up and getting ready. Felix watches him put his armour on, and then Dimitri sticks his head out and dismisses his guards. 

Felix loiters by the front of the tent as Dimitri is finishing up. He’s not sure what to say. Do you wish someone luck in a war? Good luck, hope you murder a lot of people and don’t get murdered in return. 

In the end, it’s Dimitri who breaks the silence. He tilts Felix’s chin up with gauntleted hands and gives him a smile that breaks Felix’s heart a little. 

“I will see you after,” Dimitri promises. “And then I will get you home.”

And Dimitri must be a good king, because Felix believes him unequivocally. 

Chapter Text

Dimitri has a family obligation later that day, and although once again he offers to stay home with Felix, he can tell that Dimitri wants to go. He manages to get out of him that Edelgard will be there. 

"I'm sure you think its stupid," he says sheepishly, but Felix thinks it’s a lot less stupid then he maybe would have before. 

"Go see your sister," he says. "I'm going to your gym, anyway. I don't know how you manage to look like that with all the shitty food you have in this century." 

Dimitri grins at him. "Look like what?" 

Felix turns red and sputters. "Shut up!" 

Dimitri chuckles, warm and fond, and leans down to kiss Felix on the forehead. It makes Felix turn even redder.

"I'll only be a few hours,” Dimitri says, hand coming up to rest comfortingly on the back of Felix's neck. Since their, uh, kiss, he's been a lot more tactile, as if Dimitri had been tamping down his need and desire to touch, but that had broken the seal. Felix had always kind of thought he didn't like being touched, but turns out he doesn't mind when it's Dimitri. "I know you must be feeling restless."

Restless doesn't seem like a strong enough word for what Felix is feeling. He feels like if he stays still he'll literally explode.

He heads down to the building gym. There are a lot of really complicated machines that Felix doesn't even attempt to deal with, sticking with things he can understand— weights, a machine that lets him run indefinitely. He works out for a couple hours before he heads back upstairs to Dimitri's apartment. He takes another long, hot shower, changing into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt of Dimitri's. His outfit is getting “dry-cleaned," whatever that meant, and Dimitri was going to bring it home. He was going to wear it tomorrow when they went to Garreg Mach, which could either help their case or just make Felix look like a weirdo.

Thinking about tomorrow made the horrible restless feeling inside him worse. He had no idea if this would work, and the list of things that could go wrong was immense. What if the tablet wasn't there? What if it brought him to another world that wasn't his? What if more time had passed in his world, and he'll get back to find out hundreds of years had passed?

Bernadetta had told him a story like that once. He'd thought it had been really fucking stupid; now he understands why she’d called it a tragedy. 

He has to hope. He has to hope that the archbishop will believe him, and that there’s a tablet here, and that it leads him back to his world, and they haven't marched on Enbarr yet, and everyone is okay, and Dimitri hasn't fallen in love with another version of him—

Laid out like that, it sounds impossible. It's why he's trying not to think about it.

He's halfway through lunch when his phone rings. He glances at it, assuming it's Dimitri— and stops. The name on the phone says "Dad."

Felix's hands shake slightly. He shouldn't pick up. He shouldn't. His father will most likely be able to tell that something is wrong. He shouldn't pick up.

"Hello?"

"Felix!” His father’s voice booms through the speaker and causes a fresh wave of hurt to wash over him. "I'm trying to show your uncle that video you and Glenn showed me, you know the one with the dog, but I can't figure out how to—" his voice starts to fade, as if he were walking away. "Oh!" His voice gets loud again. "My mistake,” Rodrigue chuckles sheepishly. “It appears it wasn't plugged in. Sorry to bother you, son—”

"Dad." His voice is hoarse. They'd talked, before Gronder. They'd sat down and Felix had swallowed his old anger and they'd talked , and they'd started airing things out, and they'd agreed that when the war was done, maybe they could start taking steps to start over. And it hadn’t been perfect or easy but they’d done it, and Felix had thought that maybe—

And then he’d lost that chance. 

"Felix?" His father's voice is immediately worried. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he says, even though he isn’t. "I just, um—” how many things went unsaid because he was too afraid? All the words he locked away to protect himself— all the good that's done him now.

“Did you have a fight with Dimitri?" His father is still trying to figure out what's going on. He always did this, always tried to guess. It had always annoyed Felix so much.

"No, no," he says, sitting down on one of the chairs at the table. His legs feel weak. "It's not that. I just… I wanted to say sorry. I know I haven't always been the easiest—" 

"Felix,” his father cuts him off, voice soft but firm. "I'm not sure what brought this on, but you don't ever need to apologize to me, least of all for yourself."

"I just... l—” Why could he still not say it? Why was it so hard?

"Felix," his father says. "Next week, maybe we could get together with your brother and go out for a nice dinner." 

Felix wipes at his eyes. The Fraldarius' may not be great with words, but they were masters at olive branches.

"Yeah, okay," Felix says. Something to look forward to, even if it was something that could never happen. One side of his mouth raises in an almost smile. "Can't wait.”

Dimitri returns a few hours later with Glenn in tow, although this time they bring a dinner that doesn’t sit in his stomach like a pile of rocks, which he appreciates. After dinner Glenn spends roughly twenty-five minutes ruthlessly mocking Felix for his previous night. 

“Look, look,” he says, laughing, shoving his phone in Felix’s face. “Ingrid and Sylvain were sending me pictures all night.”

Oh, this world’s Felix was going to kill him. Glenn swipes through a bunch of pictures; one of Felix passed out on Ingrid’s lap, one of him licking at a spoon of peanut butter like it was an ice cream cone, a few of him staring blankly into space, and one where he’s lying with his limbs spread out on the floor in the middle of the party. 

“I think I’m gonna use that one for my solstice cards this year,” Glenn says, laughing. Felix scowls and shoves at him, and it all feels so familiar, somehow. 

“Fuck you,” he says, but he doesn’t actually feel annoyed. It’s been ten years since Glenn has teased him. He’d never thought it would be something he would miss. 

“I’m so sad I missed it,” he says, taking another look through the photos and laughing. “Some of us have to be big boys and go to work while others get high and eat shitty food all weekend.”

“I’m fighting a war tomorrow, dickhead.”

“I’m fighting a war tomorrow, dickhead,” Glenn repeats in a high voice that sounds nothing like Felix. Felix grabs one of the pillows from the couch beside him and throws it at him, and Glenn catches it easily and whips it back. 

“Guys, seriously?” Dimitri says, when Felix ducks and the pillow crashes into the television stand. 

“Felix started it,” Glenn says. Felix flips him off, and Glenn makes a motion as if he catches it and then blows Felix a kiss before dropping down onto the couch beside him. 

“Think I’m gonna be afraid of you because you can swing a sword?” He says. He gives Felix an amused grin. “Did you still wet the bed ‘til you were like, nine?”

Felix grabs another pillow and pushes it over Glenn’s face, ignoring the way he screams out, “Murder!! Attempted murder!!” 

His cheeks hurt, and Felix realizes that he’s grinning. 

The plan is to leave a little before dawn; Dimitri says it will take a few hours to drive to Garreg Mach, and when Felix argues Glenn points out that the fact that the archbishop was supposed to be back Sunday morning didn’t mean they were going to be there the minute the sun rose. 

“We should get a few hours of sleep before then,” Dimitri says. Felix doubts he’ll be able to sleep at all, even though he knows he should. If everything goes well, he’ll be back in his world tomorrow, thrust straight into battle. The plan had been to march at dawn; how long would it take them to get through Enbarr? To get to the palace? He needed to be ready to fight. 

“Probably a good idea,” Glenn says, flopping onto the couch. “Do you wanna starfish out on the floor again, Felix?”

Felix tries to stare him down. “You know I could literally kill you, right?”

Glenn presses the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh please, Duke Fraldarius, won’t thou have mercy on mine soul?”

“I don’t talk like that,” he says, but he’s smiling again. It’s hard to play tough when he keeps doing that. Irritating. 

He feels guilty for that happiness. A world away the people he loves are fighting for their lives, and he’s here, eating food with flavours he’d never been able to even imagine and rough housing with his dead brother and waking up beside Dimitri. Like he’d been given some kind of vacation away from his real life, into a world where he got to have everything he’d ever wanted. But why should he get to have this when everyone else is back at home, in “medieval times,” as Glenn kept calling it, fighting in a war and without him there to help? Dimitri had clawed his way back up from hell, but it’s Felix who gets a reprieve? 

He doesn’t deserve it, and he doesn’t want it. If he could go back and make it so he’d never touched that goddamn tablet he would— but he can’t. 

So then maybe he could let himself have this. Three days with Dimitri. Three days with his brother. Three days where death isn’t looming over him. 

They shut the lights out so Glenn can sleep on the couch, although Felix feels guilty for not telling him to take his bed. He just doesn’t really want him to know, doesn’t want him to see the way he grasps Dimitri’s arm outside his door and says, “Can I—?”

Dimitri’s smile soothes every worry he has, hand hot on his back as he leads Felix into his room. Felix crawls into bed and shoves his face into the pillow, rolling over when he feels Dimitri sit down on the other side of the bed. He doesn’t lie down though; instead he opens a couple of bottles and puts something in his mouth before swallowing it down with water. 

“What was that?” Felix asks, which is probably rude, but Felix has been told he’s rude too often to count. Dimitri glances over and smiles, but he doesn’t answer until he’s settled down in bed beside Felix. 

“Medication,” he says. “I have a… condition, a sickness in my head. I used to— I’d see things, or—”

Felix raises his head and looks at him, reaching out to grab his hand. “You too?” He asks, and Dimitri gives a sad little smile and a nod and leans to kiss him on the forehead. 

“The medications help me manage it, help me control it. Your Dimitri has certainly been through some shit,” Dimitri says sadly, feeling as empathetic for his other self as he had for Edelgard. 

“Yeah,” Felix says bitterly. “And I certainly didn’t help.”

Dimitri sighs and pulls Felix into him, hand coming up to pet his hair. “I know you’re not going to believe me, because you’re the worst kind of stubborn,” he says fondly. “But when you get back home, watch him. Watch the way he looks at you, and says your name, and how quickly his eyes find you in a crowd.” His lips press against the shell of Felix’s ear. “Give him the chance to forgive you, and give yourself that chance, too.” 

Felix wraps his arms around Dimitri and eventually he falls asleep like that, safe and warm.

(In the morning, Glenn wakes them up by throwing a ramen package at Felix’s head and saying, “You could have told me I could have the other bedroom, you shitstain.”)

The drive to Garreg Mach is tense and mostly silent. Now that they’re on the way, the anxiety over what they’re doing starts to really set in. Glenn drives, and there’s music playing on the radio, but the three of them don’t really talk. Felix fights back nausea and tries not to spiral into thoughts about all the things that could go wrong. 

“Hey,” Dimitri says, and Felix looks up to see him turned around in the passenger seat, looking at Felix with concern in his eyes. He holds his hand out, and Felix takes it. “We’re going to figure this out.”

“There’s just so many things that can go wrong.”

Dimitri squeezes his hand. “What’s the worst case scenario?”

Felix says, “It’s not there and we never find a way to get me home and I’m stuck here forever and I never find out what happened to all the people I love and your Felix never gets home and we die like this.”

Dimitri winces, and Glenn snorts. “Sorry,” Dimitri says. “I suppose that works better when you’re stressing out about exams or forgetting your dad’s birthday.”

“Thank you, Dr. Blaiddyd,” Glenn says fondly, teasingly. “Listen, brat. If it’s not there, we’ll move onto the next thing. There’s a lot of old books in the Garreg Mach library, we can look there. It’s a big world. Hell, maybe there really is a weirdo out there posting on subreddits from another world and they can help us out. There’s a lot of things that can go wrong, but this isn’t a one shot kind of deal. We can try again. Okay?” His eyes cut to Felix’s in the mirror, and he sounds so completely confident that Felix nods. 

“Good,” Glenn says. “Do we have a plan for how we’re going to talk to the archbishop or are we just running in dick first?”

“She normally sees people before service on Sunday,” Dimitri says. “And we are all former Garreg Mach students. It shouldn’t be too hard to talk to her, it’s convincing her to listen to us that’ll be hard.”

“Got it,” Glenn says. “Dick first. Let’s go.”

Felix gets quite a few odd looks as they walk through Garreg Mach. It’s a lot different from his time, but Felix can see the bare bones of the Garreg Mach he knows beneath this new, shinier version. The archbishop is upstairs in the audience chamber, and the three of them get in line to see her. Felix wants to pull out his sword and cut in line, but Glenn and Dimitri manage to convince him that that’s not going to help them. So he very impatiently waits in line with them, and when he finally gets into a position where he sees the archbishop, he stops in his tracks. 

He’d been expecting Rhea, but it’s not. It’s Byleth. 

Something light like hope floods through him at the sight of the professor. Felix may be a universe away, but the professor inspires hope and faith in him like no one ever had, except maybe Dimitri. It’s a childish thought with no grounds to it, but Felix can’t help the thought from going through his head at the sight: it’s going to be okay. The professor is here. 

“That’s the archbishop?” He whispers. Glenn looks between him and her. 

“Yeah. Why? Do you know her?”

“That’s the professor,” he says. “That’s Byleth.”

When they get in front of her, Byleth’s eyes turn curious when she sees Felix’s outfit. “It’s a surprise to see you three,” she says. “Here to cause more trouble?”

“Kind of,” Glenn says apologetically. 

“Professor— er, Archbishop,” he says, and Byleth’s gaze turns piercing as she studies him. “I— this is going to sound completely crazy but please just hear me out. In your bedroom upstairs, there’s a trick wall that hides a stone tablet, and it contains some kind of strange magic that connects to different worlds, and I need to touch it, because I’m not from here.” Fuck, he sounds crazy. “You don’t have to believe me but please at least check the wall! If the stone is there you’ll know I’m telling the truth and—”

Byleth holds up her hand, and he cuts off. 

“Seteth,” she says, and Felix watches with baited breath as Seteth comes over. Byleth’s familiar blank expression gives him no indication of whether she believes him or not. 

Seteth walks over and narrows his eyes. “Glenn Fraldarius,” he says suspiciously. Glenn gives him a crooked smile. 

“Seteth. Did you put my picture up yet?”

“Again, I’m not sure ‘most minutes spent in detention’ is the achievement you seem to think it is.”

“Will you take over for me, Seteth?” Byleth says. “I need to check on something.”

“O-oh?” Seteth glares at the three of them. “Yes, of course. Will you be long?”

“Probably not,” she says, before turning to leave. The three of them exchange glances before they run after her. 

“Does this mean you believe me?” Felix asks when they catch up. 

“Your clothes,” Byleth says. “Exquisitely made, in a way you never see anymore. And that sword at your hip— I haven’t seen one like it in quite a while.” She leads them up to the third floor. “And anyway, as you said. It’s easy enough to check if you’re telling the truth.”

Felix can’t quite believe she believed them so easily— although if this version of the professor is half as weird and mysterious as his is, then maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. 

Somewhere along the way, he’s grabbed Dimitri’s hand. He grips it tightly, too tightly, probably, but Dimitri doesn’t complain. Byleth doesn’t hesitate as she strides into the bedroom, but Felix stops at the threshold, suddenly not certain he can convince his legs to move. Dimitri grabs his face, thumb stroking over Felix’s cheek. 

“Hey,” he says, voice low and comforting. “Whatever happens, we’re here together, okay?”

“Felix,” Byleth calls out, and Felix looks over to see— 

His legs give out, but Dimitri is there to catch him. 

“Yep,” Glenn says, voice a little shocked, as if he also hadn’t quite believed this plan would work. “That sure is a glowing stone tablet.”

“It’s here,” he says breathlessly. “It really— holy shit.” He stumbles forward. “Thank you,” he says to Byleth. “Thank you, professor, I—”

“How is it activated?” She asks. 

“The words,” he says. “You have to speak the words.” For a moment he’s afraid that she’s going to tell him she can’t understand it— and wouldn’t that have been something, after all this. But she just nods. 

“Say your goodbyes, then,” she says. “And then I will send you home.”

It only hits him then. Say your goodbyes. He’s going home. 

He turns to Dimitri. “This should send him back to you,” he says, and Dimitri pulls him in for a final kiss. 

“Be safe, Felix,” he says quietly, hand going to cup the back of Felix’s neck. “And remember what I said.”

“You’ve said a lot,” Felix says. Dimitri laughs. 

“Remember it all,” he teases. Felix hugs him. 

“Thank you,” he says. “For everything.” Dimitri gives him a warm smile when they pull away. Felix will miss him, but the knowledge that he will hopefully get to see his Dimitri soon…

He turns away and faces Glenn. Glenn watches him, waiting for Felix to speak first. Waiting to find out how Felix felt about this, what he wanted, what he needed. 

“I’m really glad I got to find out I turn out taller than you,” he says. 

Glenn lets out a surprised laugh. “Fuck you, shithead,” he says, and Felix grins, and then he starts to cry. 

“Ah, Felix,” Glenn says softly, moving forward to pull him into a hug. 

“I miss you,” Felix says into his shoulder. “Every day, Glenn.”

“I know,” Glenn murmurs. “I’m sorry I left, I am.” He pulls back and grips Felix’s face. “But you are doing so well. I’m so fucking proud of you, Felix.” He smears Felix’s tears. “And you’re gonna go home and fight in your war and churn your own butter and wear your stupid outfits—” Felix laughs shakily— “And you’re gonna do just fucking fine, okay? I promise. You have to listen to your wise older brother.”

Felix sniffs but gratefully follows the script. “Not sure I can find a wise one, but you’ll probably do.”

Glenn smiles and shakes him slightly. “I love you, okay? Whether I’m fucking alive or not. Remember that, dummy. Okay?”

Felix nods, and Glenn knocks him on the chin. “Alright, Crybaby. Good luck.”

“Thank you,” Felix says to him, and then he turns to Dimitri to say it again. “For everything.”

He nods at Byleth, who speaks the words. Felix’s heart is threatening to beat out of his chest as he watches the stone begin to glow. 

“Wow,” Dimitri mutters. Felix takes a step forward, but then he turns back. 

“Bye,” he says. Glenn and Dimitri both smile at him, and it gives him the confidence to reach out and touch the stone. 

Chapter Text

Felix feels nothing. 

Experiencing the feeling again unlocks the memory of the first time, and it isn't any better the second time around. Nothingness presses in on him, like he's the only thing that’s ever existed. Like he's being shoved through the universes. In front of him he sees himself; he'd thought it was a mirror the first time, but he knows better now. The other Felix is wearing his clothes and has an iron sword at his waist. For a moment that stretches into infinity, the two of them study each other. 

The other Felix scowls and gives him the finger. 

Felix lands on his ass in the healer's tent, with Flayn looking at him in concern. He jumps up so quickly he almost knocks her over, and he stumbles slightly, feeling dizzy. Flayn grasps him by the arm.

"Felix? Are you alright? What—” and then she pauses, as she notices the subtle changes in him. "Wait, are you—”

Felix doesn't answer. He'll apologize later (no, actually, he probably won’t). He yanks his arm away and takes off running.

He doesn't have time to think. He doesn't have time to panic. All he can do is focus on putting one foot in front of the other and getting to where he needs to be.

To Dimitri.

The city has been taken when he gets there. He grabs a Kingdom soldier. "Is the King at the palace?"

"Y-yes, they're still fighting—" 

Once again, Felix takes off running. His lungs are screaming at him, but Felix doesn't stop until he's at the palace. He pauses to take a few deep breaths. It's only been a few days since he'd been here, but it feels like he’s been gone for much longer. The air feels sharper, the ground tilted under his feet.

He takes another heaving breath and draws his sword.

The battle is raging around him. He sees Annette firing wind blasts at a crowd of enemies, sees Ashe letting off a volley of arrows, sees Ingrid, dismounted from her pegasus and fighting side by side with Sylvain. His heart clenches in his chest at the sight of them. They're here. They're alive.

But his eyes roam the entrance, and he doesn't see the blond head he's so desperately looking for. He runs further in, up the stairs. He sees Byleth, the sword of the creator lashing out and slicing through enemies. He sees Dedue, and his heart speeds up, because where Dedue is—

The ground beneath his feet evens out. The air turns sweeter. He's a little ways away from Dedue, who is busy defending against three different mages; Areadbhar glows bright, and Dimitri roars as he fights against his opponent. Felix watches him and wonders how he fought against this undeniable truth for so long— Dimitri is and always has been the brightest thing in Felix's life.

He's running. Dimitri’s back is to him, facing off against some brute, and he doesn’t see the war cleric on his right. Dimitri beheads the man, and Felix gets to him just in time to run the cleric through with his sword. The dead man drops, and Dimitri’s eye flicks up to his face. 

“Felix! What are you doing?”

He’s in the middle of the biggest fight of his life, so Felix will forgive him for not being able to pick out the minute details between him and his other self. “I’m saving your useless life, boar!” 

When you get back home, watch him. That’s what the other Dimitri had said. For a moment, they’re the only two people in the world. 

He says, “ Felix.” His eye widens, and despite everything— despite the battle and the smell of death and sounds of screams and the blood that’s spattered across his chin— despite everything, he smiles. It makes Felix’s heart do really weird things in his chest. Dimitri reaches out towards him. “Felix, you’re—”

“Later,” he says, and he means it like a promise. “Have you seen Edelgard yet?”

A look that Felix doesn’t have time to decipher passes across Dimitri’s face. “She isn’t Edelgard,” he says solemnly. “Not anymore.”

They fight their way to the throne room, where Edelgard’s new monstrous form awaits, and Felix falls back into his life as if he’d never left. Eventually everyone is aware that he’s back, and a few of them (Sylvain, Annette, Dorothea) take advantage of the chaos of battle to pull him into a surprise hug. His sword feels like an extension of his hand; his lungs burn and his eyes water from the smell of fire and death and blood, but he has a feral sort of grin on his face throughout. This is what he’s good at. This is where he’s supposed to be. Fighting at Dimitri’s side. And no matter how delicious the food, or how alive his brother was, or how tenderly the other Dimitri had touched him— despite all of that, this is where Felix wants to be. For all the wonderful things he had gotten to experience, they’d never be able to hold a candle to this. For all their wonderful qualities, they weren’t this. They weren’t his. 

Edelgard falls. The soldiers cry and cheer and breathe a collective sigh of relief. And Dimitri turns around and immediately searches for Felix in the crowd. 

Watch the way he looks at you, and says your name, and how quickly his eyes find you in a crowd.

Felix runs at him. Every wall that had seemed like an impassable obstacle crumbles in front of him, every dumb excuse he’d ever made falls apart at the seams, and even the things that matter— a smile stained with blood, words that he threw like knives— they fall away in the face of this: he is home, and he is loved, and they won. 

He launches himself at Dimitri, wrapping his arms around Dimitri’s neck. Dimitri lets out a soft oof as Felix’s feet leave the ground, arms slipping around Felix’s waist easily. 

“You fucking did it,” Felix says, laughing breathlessly into Dimitri’s ear. “Boar. Dimitri. You fucking did it.”

“You’re back,” Dimitri says, voice shaking, and Felix’s ribs groan as Dimitri squeezes him. “Felix, you’re home.”

Eventually other arms and bodies join in; Felix feels Sylvain’s armour at his back, hears Annette’s happy tears, hears Dorothea singing a dramatic retelling of the battle as everyone gathers around them and joins in on the hug. And at the middle, still clutching at each other, are the two of them. Dimitri turns his head so his lips brush against Felix’s ear, and Felix tightens his hold around Dimitri’s neck. 

“I missed you,” Dimitri says. “Felix—”

“I know,” Felix says, because he does. “I know, Dimitri, I know, I know—” he buries his head in Dimitri’s neck, and if he’s crying no one mentions it, because everyone else is too. 

They go back to Garreg Mach; despite all that has happened, Enbarr is not their city. Felix rides with Sylvain and Ingrid and listens to their chatter and bickering and he isn’t even annoyed by it, and when Annette sneaks up behind him and hugs him again he isn’t even annoyed, and when Ashe asks what kind of food they had in the future Felix is actually more than happy to tell him. He knows, just as everyone does, that they’re not done, that war doesn’t end overnight, that uniting a country is so much harder than winning it— but they take this night to celebrate, back where everything started. One last hurrah before the rest of their lives. They will return to Fhirdiad tomorrow, but tonight he watches his friends drink wine and laugh and revel in the relief of being alive. 

Dimitri is swarmed by people as soon as they arrive back at the monastery, and Felix is pulled into the crowd by his friends, has wine put into his hand, is hugged and cried on by multiple people. He should hate it; but this morning Felix hadn’t been sure if he’d ever see these people again, and now that he’s home again he’s not going to take it for granted. 

At least for tonight— tomorrow, anyone who tries to surprise hug him is getting stabbed. 

It’s impossible to get a minute alone with Dimitri before someone else is coming up to him, to congratulate the King, to toast to him, to drunkenly ramble at him. Dimitri, of course, listens to each and every fool who comes up to waste his time, which makes him a great king, but a very difficult friend. 

Felix eventually finds himself seeking a moment of reprieve, and he finds himself heading over to the corner where Dedue is standing, watching Dimitri as dutifully as ever. 

“Felix,” he says in his deep gravelly voice, nodding as Felix shamelessly hides behind his bulking frame. “I’m glad you’re back. His Majesty has been very concerned.”

Felix tries and fails not to feel obnoxiously pleased about that. 

“In the other universe,” he says, jumping straight to the point, knowing he didn’t need to beat around the bush with Dedue. Felix may have some thoughts about Dedue’s unflinching, unwavering loyalty still, but he still respected the man (and really, Felix had travelled across universes to get back to Dimitri, so maybe he didn’t really have a leg to stand on when it came to unwavering loyalty). “That Dimitri said he took something each night that helped his… head. And they had a lot of advanced things that we don’t, but I-I thought—” Dedue is giving him a very strange look. “I dunno, you know a lot of shit about plants and— why are you looking at me like that!” Because Dedue is smiling. It’s very small and controlled but it’s still a smile, and he’s directing it to Felix, who most definitely doesn’t deserve it. 

“Apologies,” Dedue says. “I have been doing some research into various medicinal plants and herbs myself. I was already aware of a few from Duscur, but there are others I have learned about that I would like to explore. If you would like, I can show you later.”

Because of course, of course Dedue was already on top of this, of course he would be doing anything he could to help Dimitri. Felix nods. “Yeah, okay. When we’re back in Fhirdiad,” he says. Then he says, “Thank you.”

Dedue gives him another unreadable look. “You were only gone for a few days, but you’ve changed much in that time, Felix.” Felix scowls, and Dedue adds, “In some ways,” in a tone of voice that Felix is almost certain is poking fun at him a little bit. 

Felix hasn’t talked about it. There hasn’t been time. How much does everyone know? Do they know he went hurtling into a universe where he and Dimitri were together? Do they know he got to live out three extra days with his dead brother? He can’t bring up Glenn with any of his friends, because they all get this pinched look on their faces, Ingrid especially. So he finds himself telling Dedue, “Glenn was alive. Over there.”

It’s not an explanation, but it kind of is. Dedue seems to understand, at least. 

“Welcome home, Felix,” he says.

Twenty minutes later finds Felix with Sylvain slumped over his shoulder. “I missed you,” he says drunkenly into Felix’s ear. “The other you was weird.”

“Get off of me,” Felix says, shoving Sylvain away and watching him stumble. “You stink.”

“What was the other me like?” Sylvain asks, leaning on the wall for support. 

“Annoying,” Felix answers easily. Sylvain wobbles slightly. 

“Was he different?” He asks, and Felix narrows his eyes because it doesn’t seem like drunken rambling, it sounds like Sylvain is… worried? “Because— because that Ingrid fell in love with that Sylvain, but this Ingrid barely tolerates me on the best of days.”

Oh. 

“Shouldn’t you be talking to Ingrid about this?”

“She won’t talk to me,” he bemoans. “Not really. Not alone, at least.” He sighs heavily. “She hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you, idiot.”

“She does,” Sylvain argues back. 

“I saw you two fighting,” Felix snaps. “When I got to the palace at Enbarr. She was off her horse and you were back to back because she trusts you with her life. She doesn’t hate you. Go fucking talk to her.”

“Okay,” Sylvain says. “You have to go talk to Dimitri, then.”

“I—” That catches him off guard. “He’s been busy. It’s been impossible to get near him.”

“Sounds like a really convenient excuse to me,” Sylvain says. Felix glares at him. 

“Fuck you.”

Sylvain grins at him. “You’ve been staring wistfully at him all night.”

“I’ve never done anything wistful in my life,” Felix mutters in annoyance. Sylvain laughs and nudges him. 

“Come with me.”

“What?” But Felix follows anyway. Call it habit. 

Sylvain leads him through the throngs of people until he sees Dimitri, who is currently listening to Lorenz talk with a bit of a glassy expression on his face. Sylvain sweeps up to them and throws an easy arm around Lorenz’s neck, who glances up at him looking like a ruffled bird. 

“That’s so fascinating, Lorenz,” Sylvain says, as he keeps tugging Lorenz away with him, ignoring his protests. “Tell me about it over here.”

Felix and Dimitri watch them go, and when Felix turns back to him Dimitri is gazing at him thoughtfully. “Thank you,” he says softly. “It’s incredibly difficult to talk policy with drunk people, and yet they try all the same.”

Felix looks around them at the party, still going strong, and the alcohol, which is going stronger. “Come with me,” he says, snagging Dimitri’s sleeve. Dimitri follows without concern or suspicion, and it makes Felix’s heart beat funny. There’s a closeness you can only get when you’ve fought beside someone, when you’ve felt the same sting of battle in your veins, when you’ve looked death in the face and sacrificed someone else to it instead. It’s one of the reasons why the other Dimitri would never have been enough for him, because they didn’t have this. The trust that comes from forging a bloody path together. Felix takes the King of Fodlan’s hand, and Dimitri would follow him anywhere. 

They head towards the third floor; the death of Rhea hangs over it, and they’re unlikely to be disturbed here. Dimitri looks almost amused as they climb the stairs, although Felix can’t be sure why. “Are you laughing at me?” He grumbles. 

“Never,” Dimitri says genuinely. Felix turns away so he can’t see the way his cheeks burn. 

They head out onto the terrace. Felix has stripped most of his outer layer and is down to his turtleneck, and he leans on the balcony, staring out into the darkness. He wonders when it’s going to hit him. That he’s home, that they won, that he’s here with Dimitri beside him. 

“Are you alright?” Dimitri asks softly, coming up to stand beside him. 

“I —” am fine, is the reflex. Brush it off. “Think so,” is what he settles on. “I think so.”

“How did you get back?”

“I…” he looks up at the sky. He wasn’t able to see the stars as well in the future; that Dimitri had said they were mostly blocked out by artificial light. He drinks them in greedily now, turns his eyes north. The King’s Right Hand. “Can I talk about it tomorrow?” He finally says. “Let’s leave tonight for celebrating.”

“Of course,” Dimitri says. The night has cooled down, but it’s still unpleasantly warm under his turtleneck. Dimitri’s body is a burning fire beside him, but he doesn’t move away. 

For a moment, they don’t speak. Finally Dimitri says, “I missed you, Felix. I was so scared I’d never see you again.”

Warmth blooms in his chest, but he hides it away from Dimitri, not wanting him to see how much that meant to him. “You had a replacement.”

A soft laugh. “He was nice,” Dimitri says, which has never before in history been a word used to describe Felix Fraldarius, in any universe. “But he was different from you. More tactile. He liked hugs. Tried to kiss me once.”

Felix’s back shoots up ramrod straight as he glares at Dimitri. “He did what?” How dare he , Felix thought , as if he hadn’t had a full makeout session with the other world’s Dimitri. If Felix ever learned how to jump through universes at will, he was going to go kick his other self’s ass. “Did you?”

“You seem angry,” Dimitri notes carefully. His eye remains focused entirely on Felix. “Are you upset?”

“I asked you a question first,” he hisses, staring at Dimitri’s eyepatch so he doesn’t have to see that fucking shade of blue. 

“...No,” Dimitri says. “I didn’t. I didn’t want to.”

Felix’s heart shutters down. He’ll have to kick the other Dimitri’s ass, too, for making him stupid enough to believe that—

“ Felix,” Dimitri says, seizing him by the arm and pulling him in closer when Felix tries to wrench away. “You misunderstand.” One of Dimitri’s bare hands comes up to swipe away some of the hair that has fallen into Felix’s face. He’s not sure when Dimitri’s gloves came off. “I didn’t want to because he wasn’t you. He looked and sounded like you but he wasn’t you.” Felix stares up at him, looking at Dimitri and hearing the words he says but not really understanding what the fuck he was trying to say. “Felix, do you understand?” Both his hands come up to cup Felix’s face. “I missed you. And I would never have been happy with a replacement of you because he doesn’t know me the way you do. He doesn’t push me the way you do.”

“He doesn’t have any of the bullshit between us, either,” Felix argues back, because he hates himself and likes suffering, apparently. 

“Exactly,” Dimitri says, because today he liked saying things that completely confused Felix. “As wonderful as it would be to live a life where all that has happened between us hadn’t happened, it did. You have seen the worst of me, but I’ve seen yours, as well.” His thumb starts stroking across Felix’s cheekbone. He’s going to pass out or throw up if Dimitri keeps looking down at him like that. He doesn’t deserve that look, but now that he’s seen it he never wants Dimitri to stop looking at him like that. Like he’s the only person Dimitri has ever seen. “I didn’t want to kiss him, Felix, because I only want to kiss you. And I know that we—”

Dimitri is going to keep speaking; Felix knows this. He’s going to keep rambling sappy bullshit and Felix doesn’t want to hear it. 

I only want to kiss you. Dimitri and him have misunderstood each other a lot in their lives, but Felix can understand this. He stands up on his toes and cuts Dimitri off with his lips. 

It takes Dimitri a few moments before he moves, one hand curling behind Felix’s neck and the other snaking around his waist, pulling Felix up towards him more. Felix winds his arms around Dimitri’s neck, and he doesn’t bother comparing how this one is compared to the one he shared with the other Dimitri, because this is all he can think about. Dimitri holds him as if Felix is capable of breaking, kisses him like he never thought he’d be given the opportunity, and Felix melts into him, lets himself be held up, lets himself be touched and held and kissed and loved. 

Dimitri moves them so Felix has his back against the balcony, and then Dimitri lifts him and sits him on the edge, both arms wrapped snugly around his waist. 

“You better not let me fall,” Felix mutters. “It would be really embarrassing if I survived a war and two universes only to die because you dropped me off a balcony.”

Dimitri laughs, and it’s giddier than Felix has heard in two decades. “Never,” Dimitri says. “I’ll never drop you.”

See? Rambling sappy bullshit. Felix kisses him again, mouth opening under Dimitri’s as he tangles his fingers in Dimitri’s hair. Dimitri is situated right between his legs, and Felix hooks his ankles around his waist, keeping them pressed together. Felix is both thankful and annoyed at the amount of layers between them, because he wants to be closer, but there are probably better places to lose his virginity. 

Dimitri pulls away from the kiss and lets their foreheads rest together. His breath is sweet in Felix’s face. “Felix,” he says, in a tone of voice like he’s having a hard time believing this was real. “Well worth the wait,” he says teasingly. He leans in to kiss Felix again, who leans back with an embarrassed look on his face. 

“I should probably tell you— I kind of, uh. Kissed the other Dimitri.”

He’s not sure what to expect, so he’s relieved when Dimitri pushes his face into Felix’s hair and laughs. Felix’s cheeks flush, hackles raised automatically whenever anyone laughs at him. “Shut up!” He says. “I never expected you to feel the same. I was… taking advantage of an opportunity.”

Dimitri chuckles again. “I suppose I have to ask, then, which one of us you prefer.” The joke falls flat, as if Dimitri is actually concerned about the answer. As if Felix wouldn’t claw through hell for him. 

“Idiot,” he says scathingly, tugging on Dimitri’s hair sharply. “Look where I fucking am, right now.”

“And does that mean you intend to… stay here?”

“What are you trying to ask, Dimitri?”

“Everything,” Dimitri breathes. “I want to ask if you will stay by my side, if you will be my shield, if you will be more. I thought I would never see you again, Felix.” He draws Felix in for a hug, one hand cupping the back of his head tenderly. “You were completely unreachable,” he says, and Felix is going to have to have a very awkward conversation with Mercedes when he needs her to heal his bruised fucking ribs. “And now that you’ve returned, I find myself quite unwilling to let you go.”

Felix squeezes Dimitri back just as hard. “Stupid idiot boar,” he mutters into his ear. “Fucking don’t, then.”

Chapter Text

Felix feels nothing. 

It sucks, like he’s stuck in some void between universes where nothing exists except him, passing through. He’d been sitting in the medical tent, and then all of a sudden he was here; in front of him he sees himself, wearing the same stupid outfit Felix had had to wear the past few days. The other version of himself looks at him. 

Felix gives him the finger. Hopefully the idiot’s learned not to go around touching random stones after all this. 

Felix materializes back into solid matter and stumbles forward; big, warm, familiar arms catch him, holding him up easily. Felix looks up into soft blue eyes and feels his heart speed up in his chest. 

“Please fucking tell me this is the right universe,” he says, because how fucking funny would it have been if Felix had gotten sent into another another universe (not fucking funny at all). 

Dimitri hoists him up and pulls him into a kiss, and Felix almost sobs in relief, entire body giving out on him, trusting that Dimitri will keep him standing. He grapples desperately for a hold on Dimitri’s broad shoulders, mouth opening eagerly for Dimitri’s tongue. 

“Uh, guys,” he hears Glenn’s voice. “The archbishop is literally right here.”

Felix pulls away and finally takes in every other part of his surroundings that isn’t Dimitri. He’s in the archbishop’s bedroom; she’s standing off to the side, watching Felix make out with his boyfriend with a neutral expression. Next to Dimitri is Glenn, who raises an eyebrow and grins when Felix meets his eye. 

“How was your medieval vacation?”

Felix surprises both of them by throwing his arms around his brother and hugging him; it takes Glenn a moment before he hugs him back, rubbing Felix’s back. “It’s okay, Felix,” he says quietly. “I’m still here.” And the other Felix must have talked to him about the other world where he was the one left behind, because he gets right to the point of Felix’s issue. A world without Glenn, a world without his father— Felix is glad to leave it behind, is glad to be back in a world where the most important person in his life is still with him. 

“Can we please go home,” he asks, pulling away from Glenn and shoving himself back into the protective circle of Dimitri’s arms. “And I need something real to eat or I’m actually going to die.”

Dimitri chuckles and wraps his arms around Felix from the back, hooking his chin over Felix’s shoulder. “I missed you,” he says, just for Felix’s ears. Felix closes his eyes and takes one deep breath. He’s safe and he’s home. It’s over. 

Felix sleeps for most of the way home; turns out being squeezed through universes and having everything you thought you knew about yourself and the universe turned upside down can really tire you out. He wakes up a few minutes before they arrive home, and with a yawn he checks his phone. There’s a text from his old man. 

Was thinking about where we could go with ur brother for dinner, lambert recommended a restaurant with brigid cuisine but it might be too spicy for u. talk to glenn and lmk. Sent from my iPhone 6. 

This is the first Felix has heard about any dinner date, which means the other version of himself must have done something. He can’t remember the last time the three of them had gotten together for something like that. It wasn’t something they did. 

But maybe they should. If there was one thing he’d learned from this experience, it’s that you could lose the people you love at any moment. He needs to remember that, remember the feeling of being in a world where he was the only Fraldarius left. 

I know the one he means and its too spicy. I’ll talk to glenn. 

He takes the opportunity to look through his phone for the first time. There isn’t much that wasn’t there before, which he guesses makes sense, given the other him had been from a time before phones. There are, however, a fair amount of pictures sent to him from Sylvain from what he belatedly realizes must have been Dedue’s birthday party. He scrolls through them with a frown before he sits up and leans between the front seats, shoving his phone in Dimitri’s face. 

“Dimitri,” he says calmly. “What the fuck did he do?”

Dimitri looks at the pictures and splutters slightly. “He— well— I really only let him out of my sight for a minute—”

“I hate you,” Felix mutters, as Glenn cackles from the driver's seat. “I’m glad he had a lovely fucking time while I was cleaning up pegasus shit.”

Dimitri grabs his hand and brings it to his lips, pressing kisses to Felix’s knuckles as Glenn pulls into their parking lot. Felix can’t bring himself to actually be upset. He’s home. Nothing could bring his mood down, now. 

Glenn doesn’t stick around, wisely assuming Felix and Dimitri wanted time to themselves. Felix sees him to the door and gives him one more hug while he can still reasonably justify it. Tomorrow they’ll go back to showing their love through casual insults and pictures of ugly animals they send to each other with the caption ‘you’ — today the memory of a world without Glenn is too fresh a wound. 

“I’m glad you’re home, Felix,” Glenn says. 

“Me too,” he says. 

Dimitri and him both drift naturally to their bedroom; Felix strips off his stupid fucking clothes and immediately drags on one of his favourite Dimitri sweaters, burying his nose in the collar as he crawls into bed. Neither of them pay any attention to the fact that it’s mid afternoon. Dimitri crawls in beside him and immediately pulls him into him, arms and legs wrapped so securely around each other it’s going to take some time to untangle themselves. Felix realizes his mistake early and pulls away to take the sweater off, the skin to skin contact causing the tension and anxiety inside of him to ease away. 

“Missed you,” Dimitri says into his ear, fingers stroking through his hair. “I was so scared I’d never get you back again, Felix. I’ve barely slept these past few days.”

“Me too,” he admits. “Although that was also partly because the beds were really uncomfortable.”

Dimitri chuckles, and Felix feels lips skim across his forehead. Felix shoves his face in Dimitri’s throat, and he can feel him swallow. 

“I should tell you— I kissed the other version of you. I’m not entirely certain about the ethics of that, given that it was still you.”

Felix snorts. “I tried to kiss the other you, too, so I’ll allow it.”

Dimitri’s arms tighten around him before he says, slightly confused, “What do you mean tried?”

Felix groans in humiliation. “He rejected me,” he bemoans. Dimitri pulls back to look at him incredulously. 

“He did what?”

Felix rolls his eyes. “I think the gist of it was that I wasn’t enough of a bitch.”

Dimitri’s lips quirk up. “Well— I suppose I can see why someone who fell in love with the other version of you might not be as… satisfied with you.”

“Why? Because I’ve gone to therapy? Because I have proper hygiene?”

Dimitri laughs and kisses him on the lips, then the cheeks, the nose, both of his eyes. “Do you think they’re going to sort things out?”

Felix shrugs. “Probably.” He brings his fingertips up and touches the skin underneath Dimitri’s right eye. Dimitri looks at him softly, like Felix has all the answers Dimitri could ever want. 

“I need to ask you something,” he says. “I was going to do it differently, but I think we’ve all had enough excitement for the past few days.”

Felix raises an eyebrow in anticipation. Dimitri leans forward and kisses him gently before he says, “Will you marry me?”

Felix leans back and narrows his eyes at him. Dimitri is looking at him apprehensively, as if he isn’t sure what the answer is going to be. 

“Idiot,” he says fiercely, closing the distance between them to kiss Dimitri again. “Is that what your surprise was?”

Dimitri nods. Felix kisses him again, and then again, and then again, and then Dimitri pulls back to ask nervously, “I— is this a yes?”

“Obviously!” Felix snaps. 

Dimitri jerks back and then chuckles again. 

“Obviously,” he repeats, leaning in to kiss Felix’s forehead. “I can’t believe I’m getting yelled at during my proposal.”

“I can’t believe you thought I’d say anything other than yes.”

“Felix,” he says, humour in his voice. “Do you know what happens when you assume?”

Felix is going to spend the rest of his life with this absolute moron. He hadn’t even been sure he’d ever see him again. He presses his lips to Dimitri’s. “I love you, and I’ll fucking marry you. Pretty sure I already told you that when we were kids.”

Dimitri smiles into the kiss. “I’m not sure a pinky swear when we were six is legally binding.”

Felix has crossed universes for this man. He’d do it again if he had to. “Stay here,” Dimitri says, getting up and disappearing; when he comes back he has a small box in his hand. Felix’s eyes immediately zero in on it. “Where were you hiding that?”

“Somewhere you’d never look,” Dimitri says. “With your own sweaters.”

Felix rolls his eyes. “Don’t act as if you don’t like seeing me wear your shit. Let me see.” He reaches his hand out. Dimitri looks at him in amusement. 

“This is the worst proposal ever,” he says. Felix shoots him a look. 

“No it’s not. It’s the best, because it’s ours. Give me my goddamn ring.”

Dimitri’s eyes turn wide and fill with tears. “Felix,” he says softly, and he brings Felix’s hand up to kiss the palm before he places the small box in his hand. Felix opens it eagerly; it’s a simple silver band, three small turquoise gems in the center. He thrusts it back at Dimitri. 

“Put it on me,” he demands, and Dimitri chuckles wetly. The ring looks so small and delicate in Dimitri’s large hand, and Felix can see the way his fingers shake as he slips it on Felix’s fourth finger. They both stare at it for a moment before Felix pulls Dimitri back down to lie beside him. Dimitri presses his lips to whatever part of Felix’s skin he can reach, fingers tracing the ring on Felix’s hand. Felix sighs in contentment and does something he’s forced to admit would be called nuzzling. 

“I missed you,” he says. Dimitri hums.

“Was the other version of me not enough?” He teases. 

Felix pretends to think about it. “He had some good qualities,” he admits. “He had this really hot royal voice that he’d use whenever he wanted people to listen to him.”

Dimitri suddenly shifts so he’s leaning over Felix, warm body pressing Felix into the mattress, face inches away from his own. He stares down his nose at Felix in a way that makes him feel very warm. 

“Felix,” he says, and his voice is rich, deep and commanding and almost exactly like the one his other self had used. “You will do as I command.”

Felix spreads his legs in a very unsubtle way and leans up to press their lips together. “Yes, Your Majesty.”