#felix x byleth | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fe-fictions · 10 months

Note

Do you have any baby fluff with Felix left? I miss him so much 😭

(How about Felix finding out that he's gonna have a baby??? That's a good one!!! U V U)

“It’s true, Byleth. You’re with child.”

Mercedes’ words were filled with all the delight that you were currently incapable of showing. You were so shocked by your diagnosis, you could hardly believe it was true.

You were pregnant with Felix Hugo Fraldarius’ very own child. You were going to be the mother of his child...he was gonna be a Papa.

And now, you were tasked with informing him of the news. That in and of itself was horrifying (but in a good way), because while you wanted to blurt it out, you wanted more than anything to do it in a proper, appropriate way. Namely, you wanted to do something cute.

When Annette had announced her pregnancy, she had gleefully told you the story of how she had surprised her husband with a little bag of hints, like a baby’s bonnet and little shoes, and after a little while he put two and two together and was overjoyed.

Ingrid hadn’t been quite so cutesy with hers, but did come up with a unique way of telling her husband he’d be a father by telling him in the form of a riddle.

It was certainly cute, Annette had assured her, and she wished she had thought of it.

Mercedes had yet to be blessed with a child, but she already had a plan for how she’d tell her husband. She would tell him that he had some baking to do, and wanted him to check the oven and make sure it was empty.

He would find a single bun sitting on the grate, and sure enough, he would realize that it was a ‘bun in the oven’ and voila! She would announce the pregnancy that way.

Dorothea knew how to get under her husband’s skin, doing it in a teasing way as she typically did with all things. She told you with a giggle that she’d given her husband a leave of absence note, signed by the most prestigious doctor in the entire kingdom.

He had been confused, a bit concerned, and then he realized that she was indeed pregnant once he re-read the letter for the third time at Dorothea’s impatient insistence.

All of those were cute ideas, you had told them during an afternoon tea together, but you weren’t sure which one you wanted to do.

Felix was a fairly intense and serious individual, and as far as you knew, he didn’t have much interest in riddles or metaphors or play on word type things...yet you wanted to do all of those things just to see how he’d respond.

The girls’ reactions? All of them wanted you to do theirs and tell them which was successful.

Why not? You had said with a soft chuckle. It couldn’t psosibly hurt anything to try and tell Felix you were with child in a creative little way.

So you hatched your first plan.

Annette’s idea of giving him gifts.

“Welcome back, my love.” You greeted your husband as he came into the room, looking positively exhausted and ready to collapse on the spot. His hair was mussed from running his hands through it, and his clothes were slightly disheveled from all his fidgeting.

You knew Seteth must have trapped him in a full day of meetings.

“That rat minister of yours scheduled all my meetings for today.” Felix grumbled, confirming your suspicions. “Why give me the option to push them back if I’m going to have to take them all on at the same time?”

“It might be due to the fact that you always postpone council meetings or discussions with village representatives the moment you get a request.”

“Everyone does that.”

“But not everyone pushes them back months at a time.” You pointed out, to which he rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Whatever. He shouldn’t schedule them like this just to spite me. He’s a cruel man.”

“He’s strict.” You hummed as he fell onto the bed beside you, burying his face in your chest with a tired, frustrated sigh. “You don’t have to give him such a hard time, you know.”

“He doesn’t have to be such a-”

“Felix.”

“...Pain.” Felix grumbled, knowing full well you preferred he dial down the profanity in the church, private quarters or not. When he wasn’t in a sacred place, i.e. your shared home, it was free range on language. This was just one of those times he had to behave himself.

As if he wasn’t frustrated enough, already.

“If it makes you feel any better, I have a gift for you.” He lifted his head some at your words, though his bleary eyes made it quite clear he was half-asleep, already. You reached over the bed and picked up the bag, holding it up for him to take. “You should open it, now.”

“Sure.” He bit back a yawn, running his hand through his hair again before he took it and tore into it. He didn’t look at you when he spoke again, pulling out the tissue paper. “By the way...how did your appointment with the clerics go? Did Mercedes figure out why you were feeling sick the last few days?”

“She said I’m going to be okay.” You said dismissively, “But there are more specific answers in the bag.”

“You just said you’d be okay, so there’s nothing else I need to worry about. I trust you.” He told you in earnest, as if it was something that needed to be proved. You smiled at him with a sense of pride. He really was the sweetest man when he wasn’t hiding behind a wall of callous and wariness. “Now let’s...let’s get into this...box...bag...thing.”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“Please. I’m not even a...a little tired.” He yawned, shooting you a glare when you frowned at him. “I’m fine.”

He pulled out the first object; it was a dagger. A tiny sword, you thought, would be perfectly appropriate.

Since you couldn’t exactly leave the monastery grounds to go baby clothes shopping on such short notice (Seteth would have a fit, you did what you could with what you had.

“Is this a new knife?” He held it in his hand, feeling its weight with a satisfied hum. “This is good. I’ll use this in every fight.”

“It’s not a knife, it’s a small sword.” You corrected him. He yawned.

“By...that’s literally what a knife is.”

“No, that’s not-”

“What else is in here…” You gently took the knife from his hands, when he held it out, returning to the bag. “Is this a sugar spoon…?”

“Yes. Because it’s smaller than a normal spoon.” You explained with a little smile, pleased with your own cleverness. You turned around to set the knife on your bedside table, “See, it’s almost like it’s a baby spoon, and…”

You paused when you turned back, finding Felix fast asleep with one hand in the bag that was lopsided on his chest.

You stared at him in disbelief; the man was still in his full armor and dress. Even his coat and gloves and boots...you couldn’t fathom how he found that comfortable.

“I suppose if you’re tired enough.” You whispered to yourself, biting back your little grin. You took the gift bag and set it aside, carefully removing his clothes until he was down to his socks, tunic and trousers. It was close enough to pajamas, and was plenty more comfortable.

“Goodnight.” You whispered with a kiss to his forehead, untying the ribbon in his hair and freeing the mussed ponytail from his stress habit. You’d have to coerce him into letting you brush it out tomorrow morning.

By then, you hoped, you’d be able to put together your next attempt to tell him the news.

-------------------------

You sent for Felix in the middle of the afternoon the next day; one of the few, short times between meetings you both had.

The messenger told you he’d be available in about an hour, which was plenty of time. You got to work preparing the dough with Ashe’s help, plannigng on making a proper bun to put in the oven. That way you wouldn’t waste bread, and you’d have a nice loaf to share with your husband and anyone else who wanted to have some.

It would be a little while before everyone started filtering in for their lunch, which you hadn’t calculated for. The same time you scheduled with Felix was the universal lunch break that most staff received in the monastery, right alongside the students.

You had called him to come a bit before things got crowded, but the bodies were starting to filter in and clutter the mess hall, and you and Ashe both were running out of room in the kitchen area to so much as open the oven door.

“This is getting to be overwhelming, Professor.” Ashe said worriedly, “Perhaps we should remove ourselves so the cooks have more space to feed the students.”

“I think we should, but it’s almost done. I will stay here a little longer, if you’d rather leave.”

“But I wouldn’t want to leave you alone if-”

“Whoa, is that the Archbishop?? Is she cooking?!”

“O-oh my gosh, the Archbishop made our lunch, today!! We’re truly blessed!” “No way, I wanna see!”

Within the span of about five seconds, the hectic mess hall went from somewhat organized chaos to borderline hysteria. Students clambered all over each other, trying to get a look at the Archbishop allegedly cooking their food.

You stood there, dumbfounded, as Ashe tried to make a path for you both to get out. It wouldn’t do for the Archbishop to be harmed, let alone if Seteth found out about it. He’d have a conniption fit just based off you being in the mess hall, alone.

In a blur of noisy excitement Ashe managed to get you out of the place, the both of you nearly stumbling out and onto the pavement.

“Byleth?” Felix’s voice hit your ears and you looked up, seeing him striding up to the two of you with a curious expression. “What’s going on? It sounds like those brats are having a riot.”

“They seemed to think that the Professor...cooked their meal today. Really, we were just baking something.” Ashe explained between pants of breath, his efforts to escape with your lives having been quite taxing.

Felix quirked an eyebrow. “What kind of idiot would think the Archbishop spent hours of her day cooking food for them? Kids these days are so entitled...and weird.”

“Indeed.”

“So what were you baking?”

“Bread,” You answered quickly, “But we left it for the students. They needed it more than we did.”

“What a waste- I would tear through a whole loaf of your bread any day.” Felix said with a borderline sulking tone. You smiled, giving his hand a little squeeze.

“I’ll make more for you, later.”

While you were understandably disappointed about your initial plans going to waste, you were always happy to see that bashful blush heat up Felix’s cheeks.

You would take the positives with the negatives. In this case, the good definitely outweighed the bad.

-------------------------

You had one more plan to put into action, and your friends were getting more anxious than you were.

You made absolutely sure to write the letter in language that couldn’t have been more clear, without mentioning the pregnancy directly.

Felix was an intelligent person- he could be oblivious sometimes, and like all humans, made dumb decisions...but even he could understand what this letter meant.

There was no time to waste, so you quickly had Mercedes sign it to give the paper a convincing “doctor’s note” appearance. She asked why you didn’t just let her write it, but you hadn’t the time to answer.

Felix had another meeting in fifteen minutes, and crossing the monastery would eat up half of that time.

You weren’t going to let anyone risk this- you were going to tell him one way or another.

And this letter was the last cute way you could do it without just blurting it out.

So you rushed across the monastery with haste, your hair billowing behind you as you searched for your husband. It was Felix who spotted you first, the beautiful whirlwind his wife had become catching his eye in the otherwise peaceful courtyard.

“Byleth?” His expression darkened when he saw how urgent you looked, mistaking it for worry. “What is it, what’s happened?”

“Something’s come up, Felix-” You made it to your husband’s side in a matter of moments, breathless and rather out of character, considering how out of sorts you looked. “It’s nothing bad.”

“You look like someone declared war.” Felix replied, unconvinced. You shook your head as you presented him the letter, nearly shoving it into his hands. “Byleth, what-”

“Just read it.” You insisted, watching him the entire time as he started to look over the letter’s contents.

“Sir Felix Hugo Fraldarius, I regret to inform you that Archbishop Byleth Eisner Fraldarius will no longer be able to attend to her duties as the Church Head. This is due to a sudden and life-altering change in her life which will dramatically change yours and hers.”

Felix paused, looking up at you and searching for some sort of explanation. You ushered him to continue, the meeting just about to start.

“The condition that has befallen Archbishop Byleth will result in her being unavailable to complete her duties until it ends in roughly seven months.” Felix stopped reading altogether, his brow furrowed so deeply he looked as though he were seriously concerned.

Borderline afraid.

“Seven months? And then wh- your duties end??” He shook his head, face pale. “Byleth, w-what does this...are you ill?”

“What? No, I-”

“Oh Goddess.” He stumbled backwards, as if his knees were about to give out. He shook his head as if in disbelief, a trembling hand coming to his mouth as the letter fell to the ground. “Byleth, are you dying?”

“Of course I’m n-”

“This can’t be real. To Hells with this, it can’t be true!! I’m not-” He ran his hands through his hair, eyes becoming misty with an agitation and a fear that you were stunned to see. Felix was on the verge of panic. “You can’t just spring this on me and tell me I’ve only got seven months left with you, I- t-this can’t be true! I can’t accept that!”

“Felix, let me speak for one-”

“No!” He cut you off, grabbing your wrist and marching you back to towards the infirmary. “Mercedes signed off on it, right? Mercedes knows what’s going on- she’ll have answers! I’ll get them even if I have to force it out of her- I’m not taking a death diagnosis lying down! Not my wife!” He growled, and you didn’t know what to think.

You were being dragged up the stares where Felix unceremoniously burst into the cleric’s office, revealing Mercedes attempting to enjoy a cup of tea.

“Hello, Fe-”

“Byleth’s dying?”

The tea cup clattered.

“What!?”

“What do you mean, ‘What’?? You wrote the letter that said she’s dying! She’s only got seven months left before everything ends? That’s a load of horse shit! There’s gotta be something you haven’t tried, something you haven’t researched right- there are treatments for all sorts of things- white magic that cures the most toxic poisons!! There can’t be something so deadly that nothing can save her when you haven’t even tried, yet!”

Mercedes just stared at him, completely lost in the conversation, and trying to deal with the mess of tea that was spilled over her documents.

The ruckus Felix had created was leading to a bit of a crowd gathering outisde the doors, and you thought that it was time to bring Felix down.

You quickly closed the doors behind you, pulling yourself from Felix’s grasp. He turned back to stop you, but you weren’t going to let him tug you along, again.

“Felix, back up for a second.”

“I can’t stop, you’ve only got seven months before we’re out of time! The sooner we jump on this, the better!”

“Byleth, what is he talking about?”

“That letter I had you sign.” You told her, “It was the same announcement like the one that Dorothea did.”

A look of realization dawned on her face. “Oh, no.”

“Yes.”

“What did you write that has him so riled up?”

“I just wrote it the clearest way I knew how- I told him that I wouldn’t be able to perform my duties as Archbishop because of my condition, and they would have to end in seven months.”

“Oh, Professor… You should’ve just told him.” Mercedes giggled, hiding it behind her hand when Felix became increasingly more frustrated.

“Should’ve told me what?!” He demanded, “If someone doesn’t start telling me what in the Hells is going on, I’m gonna seriously-”

“Darling,” You took his shaking hands in yours, gently drawing his eyes to yours, “I’m with child.”

Felix’s hands grew tight around yours, grabbing you in a vice grip, before they suddenly went limp.

His whole body did, actually.

His face went slack, eyes growing wide as the words slowly made their way through his system.

“You’re….?”

“Expecting.” You finished it for him, his voice suddenly quiet and detached. The anger had dissipated in a split second. Mercedes watched with interest.

“We’re e-expect...you’re….”

“I found out a little over a week ago. According to Mercedes, I’m two months along. Once I reach nine months, I will have to relinquish my duties as the Archbishop so I can take care of the baby.”

“The baby.” He repeated, as if he hadn’t quite wrapped his head around the concept quite yet. You just smiled at him, watching the gears try and turn in his head as he started piecing together the truth of the situation.

You were going to have his child, and you were going to make him the happiest man alive- somehow, you’d managed to find another way to do that outside of marrying him.

Felix could hardly speak.

Instead, completely ignoring Mercedes giggling at him, he said nothing else and wrapped pulled you into a tight hug, embracing you with all his might as he finally came to terms with this new information.

He was going to be a daddy, and you were going to be a mommy. The mother to his child. You did that.

It was all he could do not to kiss you senseless, and more still to try not to let himself cry and subject himself to your teasing.

Though he ended up getting an earful of it anyways, since Mercedes witnessed the whole thing.

Though once he got to proudly announce that you were going to have a (his) baby to the rest of the Lions, he didn’t mind the teasing at all.

He was just too happy.

#felix #byleth #fe 16 #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fe three houses #felileth #felix x byleth #fe fictions #fe-fictions #f!byleth #fem!byleth #f!mu #pregnancy fluff #pregnancy prompt

67 notes · View notes

sailforvalinor · 2 years

Text

A Treatise on Felix Hugo Fraldarius

Every day. EVERY DAY I’m thinking about the genius move in Azure Moon’s writing to have FELIX be the only one to warn Byleth about Dimitri’s darkside.

It’s genius because of its tragic futility. Felix is the absolute worst person out of the Blue Lions to reveal this knowledge, however, not because we won’t believe him. Except for perhaps about his feelings (textbook tsundere), Felix doesn’t lie—the game establishes straight out of the gate that he is a very blunt person. No, it’s not because we can’t believe him, it’s because both we the player and Byleth the character don’t want to believe him.

We the player are witness to Felix’s interactions with his fellow classmates, and with little insight into his backstory, his early supports paint him as an abrasive, unfeeling jerk who hates his dad and his friends and cares about nothing but fighting and…well, fighting. As most of the barbs and accusations we see him throwing at his friends are for the most part untrue (though he certainly himself believes them, so he’s not lying), we have no reason or desire to believe Felix’s claims about Dimitri.

The same goes for Byleth. The game establishes in White Clouds that she grows more attached to her students than she has to anyone before—in fact, by the end of the game, the implication is that they essentially restore her humanity to her, or even create it in her where it hadn’t existed before. If this is the case, and Byleth is learning from her students how to feel emotions, then why would she want to believe someone who not only tears her students down, but actively represents the philosophy she is trying to escape?

Furthermore, Byleth’s relationship with Dimitri is undoubtedly different from hers with anyone else in the monastery, even from the beginning. While the other students undoubtedly support her, Dimitri is one of the only ones to ask how she is doing as a professor. He’s always offering his assistance and support, canonically is the first to bring out her emotional side, and is the only one of the few to truly empathize with her after Jeralt’s death, even going so far as to offer his assistance in securing her revenge. As he is arguably the person she is closest to in this route, even from the beginning, why would she want to believe he is a soulless monster driven by nothing but bloodlust?

However, here’s the kicker—while Felix is the one she is least likely to believe due to her emotions, he’s the person she’s most likely to believe logically. As I briefly mentioned earlier, out of all the students, Felix most closely resembles the mercenary’s philosophy (no, not you, Leonie). He represents what Byleth used to be (this is kinda the reason I don’t ship Felileth, but that’s another story for another day). Felix even essentially says as much in their supports—much of those supports have a heavy emphasis on establishing their similarities.

Byleth tells Rodrigue mid-White Clouds that she understands Felix. She may not resemble him, or act like him, but she understands him, because she was him, once. She understands his logic, his reasoning—why he comes to the conclusions that he does. Logically, she should know that if Felix is calling Dimitri a boar, it wouldn’t be based on something petty like childish jealousy.

But she doesn’t. She refuses to consider it—she shoves it down and makes excuses. Throughout White Clouds, for the first time in her life, Byleth is caught in a war between her head and her heart—her heart, newly beating, desperately wanting to cling to this strange sense of care and family that she’s never truly felt before, and her head, the voice of the mercenary, the voice of Felix telling her to stop being so blind, to look up and see the evidence around her.

But that’s the tragedy of Felix, the true Cassandra of Three Houses. He knows the truth, but because he’s so bitter and jaded he can’t communicate, he will never be believed—and the one person who should believe him refuses.

#thanks for coming to my Ted talk #this wasn’t supposed to be a long post #I got excited #fe3h #fe3h felix #fe3h byleth #fe3h dimitri #felileth #dimileth #felix x byleth #blue lions #azure moon #fire emblem #fire emblem: three houses

402 notes · View notes

originalfireemblemscenarios · 10 months

Note

Can I request headcanons for Hubert Felix Ashe and Ignatz being shy around female Byleth separately?

All of this is pre time skip (as I don't write for post time skip Hubert)! I'm writing this as some sort of a puppy-crush thing and it's one-sided!

Hubert, Ignatz, Felix and Ashe feeling shy around Byleth

Byleth here is female

Hubert von Vestra

He's completely charmed by her face expressions. Her lack of reaction is cute... But getting her off guard is even better.

He's not the kind to be lost for words, he just tries his best to unsettle her in order to make her leave him alone so he can calm down a little.

But if it fails he always has plenty of reasons to leave. And he's not hesitant to use his excuses to avoid the professor.

Once she sees him, then she doesn't. He's in control of when they meet and he makes sure to always be ready just in case.

Ignatz Victor

Her grace is the attribute that makes him ever so less confident around her. Even though he was already intimidated to begin with.

The way she moved, talked, hell even yawned all was like looking at a goddess! Even her imperfections were perfect.

So he didn't really talk to her when she wasn't the one to approach him. He preferred to admire her from the distance.

You can probably imagine but he'd be totally lying if he said he never sketched her during a lecture. He never made it into a painting... But looking at Byleth sure inspired him as to how a goddess he imagines looks like.

Felix Hugo Fraldarius

Her strength is the key factor of him missing his words. Earning respect from your dream opponent is something he definitely wants to achieve.

He insults her like it's nothing, he's straightforward- but sometimes he himself doesn't know what he's thinking.

Asking for advice was a big no to him. He only wanted to adjust his mistakes by practice.

So having her fix his posture, or anything really made him lose his focus for so many reasons... That of which he wasn't aware of.

Ashe Ubert

Her being so helpful is perhaps one of the things he admires the most. She's so thoughtful and always makes time for everyone.

To himself he translates this feeling as total admiration and a reason why he'd like to be just like her.

So while being at a receiving end of her gestures is amazing... He often finds himself unable to think of a way to react to her kindness.

He always tries to be available to her too... But it's rare for her to reach out... Sometimes it motivates him to check up on her by himself! There's nothing wrong with looking excuses to being around her, right?

~Mod Bernadetta

23 notes · View notes

oexas · 2 years

Text

[july 2021] Honestly no other video game love interest has bested Felix. It’s like they decided to make the exact kind of character I’d instantly go for and THEN LET YOU HAVE THE BEST, MOST AWKWARD time of it (also kisses r hard but I am trying)

#fe3h #byleth #felix x byleth #byleth x felix #felileth #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses

325 notes · View notes

piyostoria · 1 year

Text

A self-indulgent phone wallpaper

#fire emblem #fe3h #felix fe3h #felix fire emblem #byleth #byleth fire emblem #byleth eisner #felix x byleth #felixleth

67 notes · View notes

quinttyz · 7 months

Text

shitty scans of felix x byleth……….mwah

#quinttyz draws #wow second year of social studies is eating me up…#have some shitty scans of shitty sketches i managed to throw up during downtime lol #i have been replaying fe3h and UHM #felix just does it to me man #even when i was playing awakening i was attracted to lon’qu which reminds me of hIM!! GOD #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem three houses fanart #blue lions #fire emblem fanart #fire emblem #felix hugo fraldarius #felix fire emblem #felix x byleth

11 notes · View notes

justrandomgrill · 2 years

Photo

Just a quick Felix x Byleth!

Commission status is in my pinned post!

#felix x byleth #byleth x felix #felix fire emblem #Fire emblem felix #fire emblem byleth #byleth fire emblem #fe3h felix #fe3h byleth #felileth #fire emblem #fe3h #fire emblem three houses

64 notes · View notes

kumeko · 1 year

Text

A/N: For the Blades in Hand zine! I wanted some post canon fluff, at least as much as Felix and Byleth allow themselves fluff. XD Last time I had written them in the endings where they go around wandering, so I wanted a more domestic route this time. And all based off the one line in their ending where they end up having duels every time they go home.

…

Byleth wasn’t home. It was late at night, Byleth’s carriage should have arrived hours ago, and she still wasn’t home. Felix stood in front of his big bay windows, scowling at the slowly rising moon as though it had personally insulted him. No one would call him a patient man—Ingrid had bemoaned how little it took to set him off—but there was little else to do in the face of delays but wait.

He paced his dimly lit manor, the candles casting just enough light to see. Somewhere, a clock chimed, the hour late. Their children had already been tucked into bed, disappointed and sulking when their mother hadn’t returned. Felix hadn’t the words to comfort them; they had even less patience than he did. It was a Fraldarius thing, this desire to move, this need to get things done immediately and without delay. Byleth had always been good at the waiting game, whether it was teaching in their youth or handling important affairs as she cleaned up a war that she hadn’t started.

Aside from his soft footfalls echoing through the vaulted ceiling and the quiet tickticktick of the clock, the house was silent. The servants had long since finished their duties for the day. Only the stableboy stood outside, waiting to tend to Byleth’s horse. Felix watched the moon rise even higher, its silver rays lighting up the path to their front door. His sword dangled uselessly at his waist.

The clock chimed once, twice—at the eleventh gong, Felix stood stock-still. A familiar figure trotted down the path, her cloak pulled back. In the moonlight, her green hair glowed. Something in him uncoiled at the sight.

There were very few that could touch her, especially now that the war was over. Somehow, that fact never stopped the knots that grew in him whenever she returned late.

He was getting soft. A minor affliction he had feared as an ignorant child, and one that he now embraced as a father.

Her horse stopped at the front door. He listened to the soft murmurs as she talked to the stable boy, as she slipped off her steed and walked to the door. Felix stood in front of the staircase, expression impassive, as she walked in through the doors.

Byleth’s eyes lit up as she spotted him, her lips curving into a rare, soft smile. “I’m back.”

“Late,” he replied evenly, noting the slight limp as she closed the door. Her green cloak looked frayed and torn, and the dark splatters could only be blood.

“There was trouble.” Byleth unfastened her clasp and turned when he approached. “The children?”

“Asleep.” Felix gently pulled off her cloak. Their conversations were always quick, pointed things, like the strikes in fencing. Only the bare bones were needed, only the bullet point summaries had to be uttered. “The blood?”

Looking over her shoulder, Byleth smirked. “Not mine.”

Felix chuckled. He shouldn’t have asked. Stripped down of her travelling gear, he could see that she was perfectly fine. His gaze flickered to her right leg. Almost perfectly fine. Felix touched her hip lightly. Her skin was warm beneath her stockings. “Should we do this tomorrow?”

Byleth rested a cold hand on his, squeezing it lightly. Her other hand cupped his cheek, guiding him down into a firm kiss. He could taste her long, dusty journey on her lips. As she pulled back, she shook her head. “Today. I have not felt your sword in a month.”

Felix didn’t fight his smile. With every year that passed, he realized how lucky he had been to find her. There was no need for words between them, they only got in the way. There was no desire for pleasantries or any of the trappings of society, the social norms that only served to restrain and hinder them.

No, the only thing they needed was the swords attached to their belts and an open space to fight. Sparring was their religion, their weapons their gods, and there was no need for any tradition in their household aside from their clashes. Felix had long learned how to read Byleth’s body, with the reverence that Mercedes put into her prayers, and any questions he had would be answered as they fought.

Felix deposited her cloak in a corner. They could put it away later. The candlebras were fully lit, leaving two bright pools of light on the ground. Felix stepped into one, drawing his one-handed arming sword. The servants had cleared the room of any fragile items. No one had mopped. The area was clear for their fight. “With the clock?”

Byleth rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck as she entered the second pool of light. She drew her sword, a solid two-handed longsword. It didn’t have the same reach as her Sword of the Creator, but in her hands it didn’t need to. “Okay.”

The second hand ticked. He kept his grip relaxed. Her strength versus his speed. They fought so many times, they’d stopped keeping track of the score and focused instead on who was winning. Felix breathed in. Byleth breathed out.

The minute hand moved, a soft tick, and they both sprang forward. He struck first, as always: a sharp thrust to her chest. Byleth parried, a strong stroke that sharply cleaved through the air. Without a pause, she kicked him with her good leg, sending him flying back.

He didn’t miss her wince as she did so. Her leg hurt more than she had admitted. Her stoicism matched his, and it was hypocritical of him to say otherwise. Sliding to a stop on their marbled floor, he ducked at her follow up attack and elbowed her in the chest. Byleth grunted and hit his shoulder with her hilt.

Felix clenched his jaw and jumped back. Her eyes narrowed and he knew that she’d recognized his reaction for what it was: his old shoulder injury acting up again. It liked to do that, some spring nights, when winter’s chill still lingered long after the snow had melted.

Every movement revealed more and more of their time apart: the exhaustion in her arms from her long ride, the boredom of his paperwork dulling his blade, her nose ruddy from the drizzle she’d travelled through. It was better than any letter, more explicit than any conversation. What the memory forgot, the body remembered.

The dance continued: thrust, parry, duck, jab. Muddy footprints recorded their midnight duel. Moonlight streamed through the windows, and Felix was reminded of another starlit dance on a marbled floor, years ago when she had been a mysterious teacher and he hadn’t cared for her beyond her blade. Somehow, Sylvain had convinced her to dance with the entire class.

Felix had spent the entire song stiff, his hands wooden on her shoulder and waist as he impatiently waited for the night to be over. And when they had bumped into each other later, in front of the tower, he had mocked the entire affair.

Settle for being a lover, he had said. If you want passion, look elsewhere.

He had been a fool then. There was no better partner than Byleth, no better dance than that of their blades. There was no settling with Byleth, only rising to each other’s challenges.

And passion could be found everywhere, from their swords to their beds.

They clashed, steel meeting steel, speed opposing strength. Byleth’s eyes were alive in a way he rarely saw otherwise, burning with a fire as she instantly decided her next move. Felix was certain he had the same wild look, his hair flying out of its tie, his lips drawn into a smile that was all teeth and grit.

Since he was a child, he had known there was no place for him in peace. Even with his duties, his friends, his children, it was a feeling that stayed bone deep.

Yet.

Here, in the middle of a fight with his wife, her sword nicking his cheek, his blade grazing her arm, he knew had found the one place he’d belonged. They were two extinct animals, but they were together, and perhaps that was all he had needed: a companion.

Byleth slashed at him. He dodged, but her hilt hit his wrist and he gasped. Before his sword could fall out of his hand, he grabbed it with his other. Sensing weakness, Byleth lunged forward. Felix ducked her thrust and kicked her leg. Her eyes widened and she groaned softly as she fell backward. Before she could hit the ground, he wrapped an arm around her waist, his blade pointed at her neck. “Yield?”

Byleth’s gazed flickered from her sword to his blade to his face. Sighing, she nodded, her weapon falling out of her hands with a sharp clatter. “You win.”

He smirked, pulling her up before he sheathed his own weapon. He kept his hand on her waist, feeling her shudder with every heavy breath. “We’re tied again.”

“No, I’m still one ahead—” Byleth let out a sharp breath and grimaced as she stepped with her hurt foot.

Felix didn’t hesitate before sweeping her off her feet and into his arms. His wrist ached at the added weight. When she shot him a disgruntled look, he pressed a gentle finger on her leg. “A sprain?”

Byleth stared at him for a moment before sighing. “A bruise that hasn’t healed.”

She relaxed, leaning into his chest. Her hair tickled his chin as he tightened his grip and headed up the stairs. Byleth wasn’t one for indulgence, neither was he, but he couldn’t deny the desire sometimes. It had been a month since he’d last held her.

“I missed this,” he murmured. I missed you.

Byleth smiled, hearing the unspoken words. “Me too.”

Their bedroom was considerably brighter than the foyer, the candles scattered on the desks, drawers, and other flat surfaces until the room had a warm, almost cozy feel. It would be annoying to put them out later. Despite that, they were oddly appealing in this late hour.

Years ago, he had told her that he wasn’t a romantic. It was funny how things changed.

Slowly, Felix deposited his wife on their bed, her bright green hair splaying on the dark blue comforter. She rolled over slightly, eyes closed and smiling contentedly as she buried her nose in the fabric. “They still smell of pine. I didn’t think we’d still need them.”

Felix chuckled, immediately guessing what her real question was. “It’ll be another month before we should remove them.”

Byleth was tough, but not Faerghus winter tough. Felix had long suspected the main reason she kept hosting Dimitri’s peace talks at the monastery was not because of its central location, as she claimed, but rather to escape the deep chill of winter. He leaned down, brushing the hair out of her face. Her eyes were emerald bright in the gloom. “The cold will leave soon enough.”

She leaned into his touch. Her cheek was as rough as her hands. “You said that before I left.”

“It is warmer now,” he rebutted, brushing her skin with a thumb. Part him wanted to linger here, to just stay like this. After spending years running, these days Felix found he wanted to stand still. He was getting soft. It had to be old age.

There was a first aid kit in their drawers. Early on in their marriage, they’d discovered it was an essential bedroom item. Between his lies and her deflections, it was a miracle they hadn’t lost a limb from delaying healing. Felix knelt next to the bed, setting the cloth bandages, a water-filled basin, and a washcloth around him.

Byleth moved up to her elbows, regarding him as he gently pried off her mud-encrusted boots. Her tights fared little better, flecked with the dirt. “Rough ride?”

“There was rain.” She exhaled sharply as he slid her tights off her right ankle.

His fingers skimmed her thighs and he fought the urge to investigate higher. Bruised skin greeted him as he examined her bare ankles, small black and purple flowers that ran up her leg. Carefully, Felix held her leg, his lithe fingers gingerly pressing as he assessed the damage. “A bruise?”

“Many bruises,” she admitted reluctantly. When he looked up, brow furrowed and lips a straight line, she sighed. “It looks worse than it feels.”

He pressed on a bruise and she hissed between clenched teeth. Clicking his tongue, Felix dipped the washcloth in the cold water. “How did you ride with this?”

Byleth shivered as the cold water hit her skin. Lightly, he removed the dirt and grime of her journey, the cloth only just touching her leg. “I wanted to see you.”

His hand froze at the comment. “It could have waited.”

“It couldn’t,” she disagreed, bending forward to run a hand through his hair. When he looked up, she cupped his cheek. “It really couldn’t.”

That tiny action, those small words left him as breathless as their fight had. He turned slightly, pressing a kiss with the corner of his mouth before returning to her leg. “What happened?”

Byleth leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “We had found some remnants of the Agarthans. They were stronger than we’d expected.”

It had been years, and they still hadn’t fully wiped out those conniving bastards. Part of Felix thought they never would. “You beat them?”

Byleth snorted derisively. “Of course.”

It was an insulting question. There was no other way she’d answer, after all. Felix changed the topic. “How were the boar’s peace talks?”

Byleth huffed. “The remaining nobles are stubborn—they’ve mostly agreed, but they just want to save face by delaying matters.”

“Old fools.” Felix clicked his tongue; the world was filled with morons. He let go of her leg. Aside from cleaning it, there was little he could do. “Anywhere else?”

Byleth gingerly kicked her leg. Satisfied, she shook her head. “No, that was it.”

“Good.” Felix gently kissed her ankle. He had never considered himself a tender romantic but then again, he had never considered himself a passionate lover either. With Byleth, he found that both suited him. He pressed his next kiss slightly higher up.

Byleth’s breath hitched, and he smirked against her slowly warming skin. It wouldn’t be long before he wiped the journey from her body. Before he could go any further than her knee, a calloused hand cupped his chin, forcing him to look up. Byleth leaned down, kissing him softly, her thumb brushing his cut. It stung. He could taste iron from her bloody lip. She pulled back and patted the space next to her. “Your turn.”

Felix nosed her shoulder, lips skimming her collar. “It’s fine.”

Byleth growled and forced him to stand. “It’s not.”

As though they were still fighting in the foyer, Byleth yanked him down, all but tackling him onto the bed. Now he was the one lying flat on his back, staring at their canopy. She leaned over him, her green hair falling over him like a waterfall. “It’s not,” she repeated firmly, her gaze never leaving his.

“It’s not,” he agreed, reaching up and burying his good hand in her soft hair. Her breath ghosted his lips as he pulled her down.

“Don’t think I’ll fall for this,” she murmured, pulling away before he closed the gap.

Felix glowered at the ceiling before forcing himself to sit up on the bed. She plucked the kit from the floor and plopped it between them. Her knees bumped into his as she adjusted for a more comfortable position. Byleth held out her hand and reluctantly, he placed his injured wrist on her palm.

Now that he was paying attention to it, it throbbed, sending dull jolts of pain up his arm.

“Didn’t think I hit you that hard,” Byleth murmured, her fingers lightly tracing the sprain.

“You got lucky,” he muttered, unable to look away as she tenderly rubbed a cold, white ointment on his skin. Despite her firm grip, her touch was tender and he could barely feel it.

This wasn’t the first time she’d tended to him. It wouldn’t be the last either. Yet, he still couldn’t get used to the sensation, to the feeling of another taking care of him. It was different to Ingrid’s aid, or even Mercedes and Annette’s healing.

Byleth’s fingers sent jolts of electricity down his spine. As she leaned forward, her hair brushed his skin. Cradling his hand as though it were made of glass, she started to wrap it with a cloth tape.

“Any changes here?” she asked, paying no attention to his stare.

Felix shrugged. “Nothing. Just the usual.”

“I didn’t think you’d ever say that.” Byleth chuckled, and he could feel the reverberations where they touched. “I thought you hated routines.”

Felix stiffened, remembering his stupid, foolish declarations in the academy. “I do. But this one…isn’t all terrible.”

She tucked in the end of the wrap, clipping it into place. She didn’t let go of his hand, staring at his palm as though she could read the future there. Maybe she could. Felix wouldn’t be surprised.

After a few moments, she brushed back her hair and kissed his palm. “No, it isn’t.”

His breath hitched as she looked up, her eyes dark and hungry.

There were traditions, rituals they kept whenever they parted, whenever they reunited. The duel. The patching. And now, another dance, a more intimate one without the blades and armour in their way.

Felix wasn’t a patient man. He had waited a month for his wife’s return.

Yet, as his wife pushed him down, her eager fingers already unbuttoning his shirt, he realized that his wife had even less patience than he did.

#felileth #byleth eisner #felix x byleth #felix hugo fraldarius #fe3h #fanfic #it's funny how different he is when I write him with byleth #as opposed to sylvain and ingrid #they soften him #while byleth matches his current edge

9 notes · View notes

notasiren21 · 2 years

Text

Wei Wei also wanting me to be done with this uni bullshit to get back to writing fics

41 notes · View notes

dictura · 1 year

Text

Byleth: his death threats are adorable??

(hi this is my Felileth fae AU and it's a novel-length WIP and it has taken over my life)

#fire emblem: three houses #felix x byleth #felileth #fanfiction #flls

6 notes · View notes

cynical-mystic · 1 year

Link

"We don't have to do this," Byleth whispers, her throat all but closed with emotion. "You can still walk away." "I could never walk away from you," Felix mumbles into her hair. "Not to where I couldn't return." “You could have a partner who will grow old and die with you, Felix. Someone who’s human.” “I don’t care about any of that, you fool. I just want you.”

OR: A few things in this AU from Felix and Byleth's perspective.

#felix x byleth #felileth #fe3h fanfiction #felix hugo fraldarius #female byleth eisner

5 notes · View notes

fe-fictions · 10 months

Note

Any more Felix to share!!!

(How about Felix getting possessed!!!!!)

After the war had ended, you were finally safe. Dimitri had come back into himself, and was a fine king. Peace and unification was spreading all throughout Fodlan, but one problem remained.

Those Who Slither were still active. Underground, but very much alive.

Dimitri had assigned you and Felix to this task; a very humble king had bowed before the Archbishop, requesting the Church’s aide in his mission.

You accepted without a second thought. Felix wasn’t thrilled with the idea of helping Dimitri, but a fight was a fight. He’d been itching for some battle (even if he wouldn’t admit to it).

So you were on the way to the first location, a secret bunker that was deep underground, filled with confusing tunnels and venues that you weren’t sure led to anything good.

No, it was very clear TWSITD weren’t done.

At most, they were regrouping. Planning their next attack, and who to work through in order to do it. The Adrestian Empire was long gone- now it was just a matter of who to choose, next.

You and Felix subdued them quickly, your militia of Blue Lions following without hesitation.

The scouts were removed first, Ashe and Annette quick to locate and purify any curses or traps they detected, and it was a stealthy, swift method of thinning their numbers quickly.

When you were finally discovered, though; that’s when the real battle began.

Felix fought like Hell beside you, and it’d be a lie to say you weren’t impressed. The man had insurmountable skill, and it pleased you beyond measure to see him so elegantly destroying the enemies in his path.

It was going flawlessly, with minimal injuries.

But things never went this well. You exchanged a glance with Felix as you took down the last mage in sight. Something was off.

You pushed forward with great caution. The tunnels were best described as catacombs, dark and difficult to navigate through for fear of getting lost.

There was no telling what was lurking around the corner.

Felix noticed the light first.

There was a flicker on your left side, targeting you from behind a pillar meters away. He gasped, grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the way.

Magic erupted from the catacomb, slamming into his chest. Felix flew backwards, nearly taking you with him.

“Felix!!”

Your voice echoed after him, his body crashing into the wall with an unholy crack before he crumpled to the ground. Your heart dropped like a stone. You moved to chase after him, but the cries of panic from your comrades stopped you.

There were dozens more of them. They were closing in around you.

“Defensive positions!” You shouted back to them, gripping your sword tight. You rushed down the corridor, reaching Felix’s body. He had managed to push himself onto his hands and feet, but he was shaking violently.

What did that mage hit him with?

“Are you okay, Felix? C-can you stand-”

“No,” His voice was mangled. He sounded violently strained, the convulsing getting worse. You touched his back, but he struck your hand away.

It stung with the sudden violence, shocking you.

“Felix…?”

“Get back-” He curled in on himself, blood oozing from his lips. A curse mark glowed red on his back, bright and dangerous. “I c-can’t control-”

“Professor!!” Annette’s cry forced your attention away from him, “Get away! It’s a curse!!”

When you turned back, there was a sword swinging towards your face.

With a gasp you stumbled back, barely keeping your nose. He didn’t skip a beat; he struck at you again and again, each attack more violent than the last.

You could hear the Lions scrambling to reach you, but none could give aid. You were outnumbered, and they needed to defend themselves before they could get to you.

Those Who Slither had created the perfect trap.

“Maintain!!” You shouted back to them, unsheathing your sword to block Felix. A violent clang resounded in the darkness, the sparks illuminating his face.

His eyes were flooded with black magic; Felix himself was nowhere to be seen.

You steeled yourself with a sharp breath. His strength was multiplied, the curse fueling him to complete his mission. You needed to take him down before he reached the rest of the group.

You clashed blades back and forth, refusing to give even an inch of room. The space was small, doing all you could to keep distance between him and the rest of the Lions.

They were preoccupied with those mages; if he was to enter the fray with them, it was only a matter of time before his strength overwhelmed them.

He nearly had you beaten.

The way he was hitting at you, it was as though he were trying to cut through the blade, itself. You could feel the handle biting into your skin with every assault.

Each time you could see his face, the deeper your heart sank. He was so far gone, lost deep in the magic.

But he wasn’t lost.

“Felix-” You hissed his name, teeth grit as you bore the brunt of his strength over and over. “I know you’re in there. Y-you have to fight this!”

“......”

“If you don’t, everybody dies-”

His breath stuttered, a millisecond’s hesitation before he lunged at you again. Your eyes widened at the sight.

He was fighting.

“We have to find the mage that cursed him- if we defeat them, we can stop the curse!” Annette rushed to tell you, breaking away from her duel to come to your aid.

“Can you find them?” You grunted as you absorbed another blow. A distorted growl fell from Felix’s lips.

“Yes.”

“Go,” You charged Felix, forcing him off balance, “I’ll keep stalling!!”

The battle was dragging on too long. Every time you started to get an upper hand, Felix’s possession gave him an inhuman strength that you didn’t know how to handle. It was far too much for you to handle. He was going to overwhelm you if it kept going.

Every parry, every counterattack you launched, he was beating you back.

The critical strike fell when he struck his blade close to your hilt. The crack of bone reverberated in your body. He broke your wrist.

You cried out, your hand numb as pain rocketed up your arm. Felix smashed the sword from your hands, disarming you. He swept your legs out from under you, sending you to the ground.

“Professor!!” Mercedes’ panic alerted the Lions. The Archbishop was in dire straits.

“Quick, someone- gah!” Sylvain took a blast of magic to the shoulder in his panic to get you help. They were still struggling.

You hadn’t given them enough time.

Felix would attack them from behind, while they were distracted and unable to defend against the mages and their possessed ally.

You had walked straight into a trap...and you were going to die.

Felix stood over you, the sword quaking in his hands.

“Felix...p-please…” You choked out, clutching your wounded hand to your chest.

The sword rose over his head, preparing to take yours. His whole body was trembling, but it was no use. It was clear the power had overwhelmed him.

This was the last you’d see of your husband.

You closed your eyes, accepting your fate. There was little anyone could have done. If only you’d seen it before him. Maybe something could have changed.

Maybe-

“Raaagh!!”

Your eyes flew open at the clanging of metal. The sword clattered to the ground from Felix’s hands. The cry had echoed through the catacombs, catching the attention of enemy and ally alike.

Felix remained standing, if only for a moment, when his eyes returned to their natural color. He spared you a weary, frightened look...and then he crumbled to the floor.

“Got him!!” Annette exclaimed from far away, waving frantically to get your attention, “The mage is down!! Is Felix-??”

“He’s…” You trailed off, returning to your husband. He wasn’t moving at all. With a cautious touch, you inched towards him, your fingers barely brushing his back. He didn’t slap you away, not this time.

He was breathing, but unconscious, you realized upon turning him over.

Blood seeped from his lips, staining his skin and clothes. His expression was troubled, as though in a great deal of pain. There were tears that trailed from closed eyes.

But he wasn’t gone.

“He’s alive.” You croaked, bringing some relief to the Lions. It was time to end the battle. With Felix’s curse removed, you could at least try and finish things against the remaining mages.

Shaken by the loss of what you presumed to be their leader, they started losing the upper hand.

You returned to the Lions and assisted in bringing about swift justice, refusing to let them escape. There would be no survivors. Not after what they did to your husband.

It took longer than you wanted it to, but the battle was ended, and the enemy was extinguished. Everyone was exhausted, in no shape to be fighting any longer and in desperate need of medical assistance.

The trek back to camp would be longer than the journey to your mission, but as everyone hobbled back, eventually you were able to find relief.

You followed alongside Sylvain’s horse, Felix carried alongside his oldest friend.

Ingrid helped him bring Felix down, and the pair carried him to the medical tent. You followed to be treated of your own wounds, your wrist pain flaring angrily now that the adrenaline had subsided and you were once again safe.

You sat beside your husband and waited patiently for him to wake. Ashe set your wrist, wrapping it tightly while Mercedes worked to mend the bone.

Your eyes remained on your husband the entire time.

“Don’t...don’t worry, Archbishop. He’ll be all right. Once we get him cleaned up and patch his wounds up, he’ll be back to normal in no time.”

You smiled at Ashe, though it was far too weak to be reassuring.

“I appreciate your comfort. I’m afraid my concern isn’t his recovery; it’s his reaction once he wakes.”

He nodded in understanding, the rest of your healing done in silence. Your gaze remained fixed on your husband, taking his hand in yours.

You decided to stay with him until he woke up. Once he was with you again, then you could allow yourself to feel relief.

Until then, all you could do was wait.

-------------------------

“...eth…”

“...y...h!!”

“...By...Byleth!!”

“Byleth!!”

You were startled awake by a loud voice in your ear. It was almost a command. A cry.

You woke suddenly, finding your neck and back stiff. You’d leaned against the bedside and fallen asleep beside Felix.

But now there was a hand tightly squeezing your shoulder, and you were staring into the tearful eyes of your Felix.

He was awake.

And he...was crying…?

“F-Felix…”

“The hells is wrong with you-!” He took your arm and yanked you forward, crashing into his chest. His arms were bound around you, squeezing you tight against him. You could feel the trembling in his fingertips, almost clawing into your skin.

He clung to you for all he was worth. His breathing was ragged, as though desperately trying to keep himself together and he was failing miserably.

You reciprocated his embrace without hesitation.

“It’s okay, Felix.” You whispered, kissing his neck chastely. “It’s all right. I’m here.”

“I could’ve killed you.” His voice was a mangled growl, cracking and breaking off at the end of his nightmarish realization. “I almost took your head, and I-”

“Shhh, love. Shhh…” You stroked his hair, which had been freed from his ponytail and was a tangled mess like the rest of him. But he shook his head.

“I couldn’t fight that damn curse. I tried...so hard...I was worthless. I c-couldn’t do anything, a-and I…”

“It’s not your fault.” You murmured, “None of it is your fault.”

“It was like a nightmare.” He sucked in a sharp breath, desperately fighting the whimper that escaped his lips. You hugged him closer. “I was watching you fall by my hand. It wasn’t like a spar. It was a fight to the death- and you almost lost.”

“Annette found the mage in time, and I was able to hold you off.” You reminded him gently, but again he shook his head. He swallowed thickly, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t go away.

“You don’t understand, I-I...Byleth I couldn’t fight it. I had to watch you lose. You could have died by my hand-”

“Darling…” You cooed, gingerly slipping from his arms. He stared up at you with such a hopeless gaze, it nearly broke your heart in two.

Tears were streaming down his face, the brokenness in his expression haunting. You had never seen such a thing, before. You cupped his cheeks, holding his face in your hands with the sweetest smile you could muster.

“You did what you could. No one blames you for what happened. You protected me from that curse, and we all walked away from that battle victorious. I’m sorry you had to experience all of that. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, and to think you had to suffer through it...I’m so sorry.”

Felix looked away, his hands clenched into the blankets. You stroked his cheeks tenderly, wiping away the droplets that followed.

“But please...please don’t blame yourself. What you suffered was cruel, and out of your control. You did a wonderful thing, protecting me. I will forever be grateful for that.”

“But I…” He took your forearm, looking down at the bandages around your wrist. “Look what I did to you. Imagine how much worse it could’ve-”

“It wasn’t.” You reminded him, interrupting the spiral. You covered his hand with your own, drawing his gaze back to you. “I was hurt, but I’m healing. I’m grateful you didn’t do worse, and you should be, too. What matters is that I’m here, now, and you’re all right. There’s no need to worry about the hypothetical.”

“Hm…” He was dejected. “I...want to believe that. I just…”

“You suffered greatly.” You understood his pain, squeezing his hand softly. “I know you can’t wipe it away that easily.”

“I just...I need time.” He huffed, lowering his head. Wordlessly you shifted closer, and held his head to your chest, embracing him with the gentle, loving touch that only you could give him. A touch that saw his breath hitch, and his eyes fill with tears once more.

“Take all the time you need, my love.” You whispered, welcoming his trembling embrace once more.

Felix choked back a sob, clinging to you for dear life.

“I-I’m...so...glad you’re still here.”

Drops of rain fell into Felix’s hair. You held him closer.

“I am, love. I’m here.”

“I’m not losing you, too.” He whispered weakly, but the fire of a solemn vow burned beneath his sorrow.

“Never, Felix.”

A kiss touched his forehead.

“I’ll always be here.”