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yellowocaballero · 30 days

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Weekenders Side Story: Byleth Gets Turned Into A Cat; Felix Causes Problems On Purpose

“You know humans can’t spontaneously become cats, right?”

“So far as we know,” Dimitri stressed. “Magic can perform impossibilities, can’t it? Annette and Byleth were practicing magic for hours yesterday. She could have magically turned into a cat!”

“Uh huh.” Felix hadn’t expected that to work, but might as well make the attempt. “What are the other reasons it reminds you of Byleth?”

“Its fur is the exact shade of her old hair color, and its eyes are the same shade as her current eyes. One would assume it’s just a castle stray -” Left unsaid: like Felix was undoubtedly assuming. He absolutely was. “ - but none of the castle strays are affectionate to either of us. It’s well-groomed and its fur is silky, which is another case in point against it being a stray. Its claws and teeth are wickedly sharp and it wields them with dexterity. It clearly doesn’t possess bloodlust, but it’s always lying in wait for battle. There is something calculated about its expressions, as if they are not quite natural to its face. And the stare speaks for itself!”

Dimitri knows Byleth turned into a cat. It's very obvious. You can tell just by looking at her. Why doesn't anybody believe him? Dimitri never says untrue things. People turn into cats all the time. He's not hallucinating this time he swears.

In which everybody thinks Dimitri is hallucinating, Sylvain grapples with love and family, a young boy finds his destiny, and Byleth has the best month of her life.

A friend asked me to write this and so somehow I did. If you were into Weekenders I highly recommend this, as it is basically the 'Five Years Later' story.

20k of shit getting weird under the cut. I spent so long writing Felipe as the world's most pretentious 15yo that it was weird to mentally smash cut into him as a baby. He's a democratic socialist but just because he hates his dad. He won't stop lecturing Sara on praxis and is convinced that he's in touch with the underprivileged despite being the most privileged teen boy in the country. The OCs have lore guys.

“Felix. Wake up.”

Unfortunately, Felix woke instantly. Seven years of battlefields made a light sleeper. Worse, the voice was Dimitri’s.

It took longer to realize that he was in his opulent four poster bed in his castle suite. There was no slip dip of the mattress beside him - Annette must have fallen asleep at her desk again. Instead, his only companion in his bedchambers was the King of Faerghus Dimitri Blaiddyd. Who was standing next to his bed. Holding a cat.

“Please,” Felix said, “tell me this important.”

The presence of the cat indicated that it probably wasn’t. Nobody delivered news of another invasion holding a cat. Dimitri would have sent a runner to knock on his door, anyway - kings didn’t fetch people.

Dimitri flashed a ridiculous pair of cow eyes at him. He held up the slim-but-fluffy black cat in his arms indicatively, as if that could possibly indicate anything. “I need your help in determining if my wife turned into a cat.”

Alright. Felix took a careful breath in and out. He reminded himself that in Dimitri’s world this was an emergency. That Dimitri was doing exactly what they asked him to do, that even asking Felix to confirm the delusion was a sign of incredible effort and will from Dimitri, and that he was coming to Felix because he trusted him to help him feel safe. None of this changed the fact that it was ass o’clock and the King of Faerghus had, again, woken him up because he thought his wife was a cat. But it was important, and it did help.

Felix leaned over and lit the candle on his bedside with a finger, immediately bathing them in soft candlelight. He saw that Dimitri was in his nightclothes - that he wasn’t even wearing his eyepatch - and that the cat seemed very satisfied with its current position in life. He must have come straight from bed.

“I see,” Felix said evenly. “Can you tell me why Byleth is a cat?”

Dimitri lowered the cat, face falling. “That’s your ‘humoring the mental patient’ voice - no. No, this does sound insane.” He shook himself, holding the cat a little tighter to his chest. “Byleth and I worked on paperwork until 2200 hours. We stayed up for a little while talking, and went to bed at 2230. I believe I fell asleep before she did. Fifteen minutes ago, I woke up suddenly and saw that Byleth was gone. In her place was this cat. Which is obviously Byleth.”

Dimitri held up the cat. Felix looked at the cat. The cat looked at Felix.

Dimitri cuddled the cat closer to his chest, making it close its eyes and purr happily. Somewhat defensively - somewhat exhaustedly - he said, “I am…very, very convinced this cat is Byleth. No part of my mind is telling me any differently. But I recognize that it seems…improbable from the outside. As such, I decided to ask you to help snap me out of this. Or confirm my suspicions, as necessary. I hoped to also call upon Annette, but it seems she fell asleep at her table again. I trust in your discretion.”

Felix sighed and threw aside the covers, dragging himself out of bed. He was only in his boxers, but they were years beyond modesty at this rate. “Obviously. Here, give me the cat.”

With some reluctance, Dimitri passed the cat into Felix’s arms. It was lithe, slender, and attractively fluffy. It was perfectly happy with being tossed about a bit, and it immediately snuggled happily into Felix’s arms and cocked its head at Felix in pure and innocent curiosity. In the candlelight, the black coat shone dark blue.

Its eyes were gigantic, and a strange shade of mint green. It had…the blankest, yet most intense, stare he’d ever seen in a cat. It didn’t move - it just looked at him, trapping Felix in its hypnotic stare and freezing him still. It held eye contact with him for a very long time. Felix broke first, looking away as his spine crawled. That cat knew your sins.

Well. Felix honestly saw where Dimitri was coming from. He couldn’t say that, obviously - affirming the delusion was a terrible idea. But the cat really was horribly reminiscent of Byleth. He’d never seen any other living being stare like that…

“Do you see what I mean?” Dimitri hissed. “Doesn’t it have Byleth’s uncanny aura?”

It absolutely did. Felix was not about to admit this. “It’s pretty cute.” It was - it felt innocent and pure, yet draped in apex predator blood. “You know humans can’t spontaneously become cats, right?”

“Uh huh.” Felix hadn’t expected that to work, but might as well make the attempt. “What are the other reasons it reminds you of Byleth?”

Dimitri finished his speech with a flourish, as if it was all irrefutable evidence. He waited expectantly for Felix to give a retort and refute his points. This time, Felix was floundering. It was normally pretty easy to parse out Dimitri’s illogical trains of thought and help him realize that they weren’t possible. His ideas got really out-there. This was also an out-there idea, but this time he didn’t seem deterred by the obvious impossibility.

He seemed clear and present, but he must be worse off than Felix originally guessed. Damn it. They had so many meetings tomorrow.

He really did not miss this feeling of completely hitting a wall. “Did anybody tell you this, Dima?”

“It was all basic deduction!” Dimitri said heatedly.

“It’s alright if somebody told you.” Fuck, Felix was tired. “Was it Monica again? Or the Dark Mage?”

Dimitri jerked back a little, hurt flashing on his face. Damn it, don’t make Felix feel like shit over this. He was the one so dead-set on the cat thing. “You won’t even entertain the possibility?”

“I’m a master-class mage, Dima. Magic can’t turn full-bred humans into cats.”

“It could have been a blessing by the Goddess.”

“Byleth has a very irregular sleep schedule. She’s always getting up in the middle of the night and walking around. Have you checked the castle pond for her? The stables? The garden?” Judging by Dimitri’s sullen look downwards, he hadn’t. So he really hadn’t been thinking clearly. “Do you need me to check those spots with you?”

It must have been very obvious from the look on Felix’s face that he really, really didn’t want to. Felix had ten meetings today and he’d have ten meetings tomorrow, and he really wanted to go back to the scant few hours of sleep he could scrape.

Twenty five was a pretty young age to rule an entire country - especially when Dimitri hadn’t mentally been up to very much for five years. And it wasn’t just Faerghus anymore. He ruled the ‘Territory of Adrestia’ now too. Faerghus had swallowed the Alliance back up, and its lords had all been forced to swear fealty back to Faerghus again. The guy was now effectively the ruler of Fodlan. Anybody in his position would believe that their wife’s a cat.

“I can manage on my own,” Dimitri said stiffly. He held out his arms. “I apologize for waking you up. Please return By - the cat to me.”

Despite himself, Felix hesitated. Dimitri hated even touching live animals - he was always scared that he’d crush them. Bad experience with a frog when he was nine. He hadn’t hurt an animal since, and Felix knew he never would, but…

Dimitri saw the hesitation. It was clear how much Felix had hurt him. But he just sucked it up and took it - as always, after all this time - and he just let his arms drop.

“Never mind,” Dimitri whispered. “Sorry.”

Before Felix could apologize to him, the cat abruptly wriggled out of Felix’s arms. He let it escape, allowing the cat to jump down onto the floor, and he and Dimitri watched in silence as the cat gracefully trotted away. There was something so familiar about that swaying gait…

That solved that problem. Dimitri didn’t chase after it, which solved another.

Dimitri turned around and left his room. Felix could almost see the cape snapping at his heels. He was in his sleeping clothes in the dead of night, trying desperately to convince Felix that his ex-private school teacher and current wife was a cat, but it was somehow still impossible to mistake him for anything other than a king.

Felix rubbed his face and groaned. Out of all the times to fall asleep at your desk, Annette…

Sleep was a long time coming that night, and in the morning Felix was tired after all.

***

The next morning was as miserable as expected.

Felix never had high hopes for it. Every trip to the castle was marked by a month of nonstop useless meetings and wastes of breath lords. He had a million reasons to resent his father, but forcing him to be Lord High Marshall to His Majesty etc was one of the worst. Felix had always assumed Glenn would be stuck with the horrifyingly important positions and that he’d be free to manage the fiefdom while Glenn was busy being important. Now Felix was important. And he couldn’t even complain about it, because every time he complained about it his old man kept on offering to do it instead and leave Felix to manage the fiefdom.

And fuck that. As if he’d inflict Dimitri on any other sucker.

But, of course and as usual, the situation forced Felix to be a little more honest with himself. If he could be here every day, he would. Even if it involved retainers and vassals and stuffed shirts. For Annette and Sylvain, obviously. But for Dimitri too. Felix always wanted to be there when he needed him. Every time and always.

Tapping the Blue Lion (they seriously needed a new name for their cult - it was a little embarrassing going by schoolyard names) gossip network was the day’s first order of business. Felix updated Sylvain on the situation during their 0500 training session, and by breakfast every Blue Lion in the castle knew. By the end of breakfast Ingrid had rearranged her guard rotations so she could take the position of Dimitri’s bodyguard for the day - peeving his usual guard, who was well aware of Dimitri’s condition, but Ingrid was the only member of his guard who could step in for him publicly.

The greater castle gossip network spread a little slower. Felix’s manservant heard from Byleth’s ladies in waiting that they couldn’t find her at all that morning. It was a little unsettling. Byleth had the habit of disappearing into the woods and completely forgetting to tell the people responsible for following her around, so the ladies in waiting were more peeved than worried. Felix remembered how clear Dimitri’s speech had been.

When Felix spoke to Dimitri and Ingrid personally for the first time that day - nearing mid-day, which said quite a bit - Dimitri obviously knew what was going on and had accepted it with his usual grim resignation. His opinion on their rigid protective detail changed frequently, but at his most even he always carried that air of resignation. Sometimes Felix wondered if he thought he was being punished for something.

They were both in the hallway moving between conferences, but Felix had learned how to take any opportunity to snatch a minute with Dimitri. Dimitri was attended only by Ingrid, and Felix stopped them both in the middle of the hall and bowed.

“Greetings to Your Majesty,” Felix said. This felt intensely stupid after last night, but it always did. “I pray for your continued good health.”

“Greetings to Lord Fraldarius,” Dimitri said, a little coldly. Ingrid made a sympathetic face from behind him. “How fares your wife?”

“I have not had the pleasure of seeing her today.” They all grimaced together. Workaholic woman. “Your Majesty, may I borrow your guard for a minute?”

For just a second, Dimitri looked a little more tired than usual. He was aware they were about to gossip about how to handle the cat-wife situation behind his back. “Of course. Captain Galatea, return at your leisure.”

Ingrid stepped out from behind Dimitri, bowing as a knight to a lord before shooting him a concerned look. “If His Majesty has a minute to join us, his company would be welcome.”

Felix grimaced apologetically. “His Majesty must be very busy. I wouldn’t want to occupy his time with this small matter.”

Read: Dimitri was not invited. They both frowned in apology to Dimitri, who just shuttered his expression and waved them off. Five more retainers immediately swarmed him, and Felix and Ingrid quickly whisked themselves away to a small conference room. The people using it were less important than they were, so they kicked out the idiots and locked the doors behind them.

Immediately, Felix said, “This sounds stupid, but you need to send your guards out searching for Byleth.”

Also immediately, Ingrid said, “Please do not tell me that you also think Byleth is a cat.”

“Of course I don’t!” Felix snapped. Ingrid raised an eyebrow, and he immediately subsided. “Look. You didn’t see that cat. It was - reminiscent. And nobody’s seen Byleth at all. Finding her would put the matter to rest.”

Ingrid sighed. “Dimitri wanted to check the garden ponds himself. I had to call in one of Byleth’s handmaidens and have her attest that they’ve already looked all over the castle. She’s going to feel awful when she learns that she worried Dimitri…maybe it’ll be enough for her to finally start telling us where she goes all day.”

“Then tell the guards to find her. Say that I need her urgent signature or something.”

“If you think it’s important, I will.” When had Felix earned that trust? Why? He was literally Felix. “But I won’t mobilize the castle guards without Dimitri’s approval. How should we handle this?”

Felix sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Sylvain said to let it run its course until it becomes a problem. Is he showing any other symptoms?”

But Ingrid just shook her head, looking troubled. “Absolutely none. You know how sometimes he feels a deep worry, but he hides it because he thinks we won’t understand?”

“If that man starts thinking we turned her into a cat -”

“No, not at all. It’s only that he knows we won’t believe him.” Ingrid’s brow furrowed - like Dimitri, more worried than she would like to admit. “It’s hard to do anything for him like this.”

“Flayn would know.”

“Or Byleth.”

The two least emotionally intelligent Blue Lions stood in miserable silence. They mutually attempted to design a respectful, sensitive, and efficient way of solving the problem. They were too emotionally stupid, and they mutually failed miserably.

“Fuck it, let’s just tell him.”

“Agreed.”

Kidnapping Dimitri was a tall ask, but when Felix returned Ingrid to Dimitri he was able to somehow do it so aggressively that they gained a small bubble of privacy. Felix tried to weaponize his unpleasantness these days.

Ingrid bowed lowly, as a knight to her king. “Your Majesty. Permission to mobilize the castle knights to search the surrounding area for Her Grace.”

Dimitri perked up immediately, and temporarily forgot himself. “Does that mean you believe me?”

Felix and Ingrid adopted poker faces. The implication was clear. Dimitri’s hopeful face fell, and Felix saw him struggle to replace that impassive kingly demeanor.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice and hissing, “Why are you sending the guards if you don’t believe me, then?”

“It never hurts to be thorough with Her Grace’s safety,” Ingrid said. Nice one. “We want to do our due diligence.”

Dimitri’s voice lowered further, only barely audible to Ingrid and Felix. “Are you or are you not humoring me?”

Felix and Ingrid winced as one.

They were both remembering the same moment - years and years ago, when a raging ‘up and out’ Dimitri accused them of humoring his repeated insistences that the Adrestian mages were using telepathy to project messages into his mind. He had thrown a chair against the cabin wall. It had been the first time Mercedes had to knock him out from concern that he would hurt something or someone else besides himself.

Dimitri remembered it too. He backed away, closing off his expression, but Felix knew the hunch of those shoulders. Pure Dimitri-class shame. And the Dimitri-special ‘Everything I did while I couldn’t control myself makes me a bad person’. And that particular tightening of the eyes indicated the classic variant ‘I wish my friends had allowed me to freeze to death in the Faerghus winter instead of taking care of me’. Goddess, he was stupid.

“You have my permission for anything you must do,” Dimitri said stiffly. “No need to inform me.”

Which was code for ‘I know I’m compromised right now, so do whatever damage control you want, sorry in advance for the extra work’. It was normally a relief to hear - for more than one reason - but now…

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Ingrid bowed again. “I’ll send the order at once.”

Felix copied her, but he found himself hesitating. That was never a bad thing. It didn’t happen often enough. “Your Majesty. Do you remember when you and Flayn stayed in that small village in the base of the mountains?” Dimitri stared at him blankly. He was correct: those five years were fuzzy for him. Sometimes Felix wondered if he remembered more than he admitted. “You kept on telling Flayn that the village was overrun by Adrestian mages. She said that you were on high alert during your entire stay. Apparently your caution was how Flayn realized that a group of travelers were plain clothed scouts from the Adrestian army. It may have saved your cover.”

Dimitri blanched, apparently shocked. “I did? I was right?”

“They were not experts in telepathic magic,” Felix said, somewhat circumspect, “but paranoia was a smart move in those days. You weren’t always wrong, Your Majesty.”

“It used to make Lady Byleth sad,” Ingrid said quietly. Felix nodded, but Dimitri just looked away. “She once told me that you wouldn’t be so scared all of the time if there wasn’t anything to be scared of.”

“Lady Byleth also blamed herself for involving me in my own coup and the war for my own kingdom,” Dimitri said, stiff and unyielding. Felix knew that the topic was a sore spot between them. Byleth had vented about it more than once to Felix. And cried about it, which had been deeply alarming. “I take responsibility for my own burdens. And I would not burden you two with my own…beliefs.”

Ingrid and Felix gave him identical ‘you aren’t a burden, asshole’ eyes. Dimitri knew the eyes perfectly well and pretended he did not. He turned away from them and made eye contact with a courier, and just like that their personal time came to an end. More than they usually got.

Ingrid and Felix exchanged long-suffering glances. But something rose in her expression, and Felix had to admit it rose on his too:

Felix didn’t know a lot about blessings from the Goddess. He didn’t know any Faith magic, forbidden magic, or experimental atomic magic. He knew nothing about beastkin, dragonkin, or catgirls. He was not a religious man and wasn’t even a particularly friendly man. But even he had to ask himself…

…what if his professor had turned into a cat?

***

Felix recruited Sylvain for the cause, because he clearly didn’t have enough to do.

Grand Chamberlain was such a fake job. Sylvain was probably the smartest Grand Chamberlain in two hundred years, but Dimitri’s uncle had gutted the position so severely that it was a little fake. Then King Dimitri unified Fodlan, appointed Sylvain to the position, and un-faked the job via signing off on whatever he wanted to do. In a move that would have made the teenage Blue Lions faint from shock, Sylvain loaded himself up with as many responsibilities as he could and lifted every burden from Dimitri’s shoulders that he could manage. Even beyond what he could manage, sometimes. The Blue Lions were experts in collusion to make him take a break (Mercedes persuading him to take a break, Dimitri signing off on the break, Annette and Felix taking over his duties, Petra shipping him off to the beach), but those moments were few and far between.

And that wasn’t even mentioning the baby.

Felix easily kicked aside the guards outside of Sylvain’s office, shoving open the door and finding Sylvain in the exactly expected location (giant fancy desk) doing exactly the expected things (paperwork). Felix would have come earlier, but he had squeezed Sylvain’s schedule out of his assistant and timed his approach for the handful of hours that Sylvain did not have a meeting.

“You’re helping me out with the Catleth situation.”

Sylvain looked up, pained but not surprised. “With the cat or with Dimitri?”

“We’re finding the cat.”

“You don’t need me for that.” Felix opened his mouth. “If you make any pussy jokes I’m throwing you out of this castle.”

“You don’t have the authority to do that.” He did. With Dimitri indisposed, Sylvain had the administrative final word. Byleth had the Blue Lion final word, which was a subtle yet distinct difference. “If I’m going to spend my free hour hunting down a cat then I’m going to multitask while doing it. You’re coming with me.”

“How is that multitask -”

“It’s making you take a break. Up.”

Sylvain got up. They swapped abilities to bully each other about once every five years, and it was Felix’s turn.

The castle was sprawling and it was not short on cats. Cats were one of the few things that made Lady Byleth smile, so the groundskeepers were under orders to leave them running around so long as they didn’t disrupt anything. Sylvain immediately began plotting out a systematic search that began at the fringes of the castle and circled inwards - a move that was basically identical to their standard military tactics to eradicate the fleeing dregs of enemy forces. Felix blatantly ignored him and forced him in a straight line outwards.

“Are we just doing this to make Dimitri feel better?” Sylvain asked, successfully prying himself away from Felix’s iron grip. Damn lancers and their upper body strength. “If we are, then we should probably invite him to this very useful expedition that is a great use of our time.”

“Ingrid mobilized the guards to make him feel better. We are searching for the cat.” A passing page tried to get Felix’s attention. He blatantly ignored them. Dumbass Sylvain had to wave and grimace apologetically. Just get a reputation as an asshole. It was easy. “It’s a better use of our time than idiot forms and idiot idiots.”

“Shit, you’re being serious.” Sylvain stopped short, forcing Felix to stop with him. He looked sternly down at Felix, who forcibly reminded himself that it was his turn to bully Sylvain. “You said that Dimitri thought it might be magic. You’re the mage between us, Felix. Do you really think that Byleth could have magically turned into a cat?”

“Magic isn’t an x factor,” Felix said curtly. “It’s not limited by the beautiful reaches of our imagination. Reason magic is a mathematics and science that produces certain sensible results. Like lightning. There’s no Reason equation for turning a human into a cat.”

“What about Faith?”

“Oh, Faith’s bullshit.”

Sylvain crossed his arms. “Faith’s magic. Annette knows -”

“Annette’s shitty at Faith.”

“Annette thinks shittiness is a moral failing.” Stone faced, Felix pumped his fist in the air - their standard ‘Go Blue Lions!’ gesture. “She was like that before Lady Byleth got her hands on her and you know it.” Felix rolled his eyes. “She made all of us worse, your wife isn’t special.”

Felix pinched the bridge of his nose hard. “Look. Byleth forced all of us to have basic proficiency in all types of magic. I know enough theory behind Faith to understand that it bolsters the body to approach the ultimate ideal form of the goddess. The goddess’ body is immaculate, so it heals the body. The goddess’ body is powerful, so it provides buffs. The goddess is not a cat.”

“Wow,” Sylvain said, impressed. “That is bullshit.”

“Fucking hated learning that shit, but Byleth manipulated me into getting competitive with Annette and forced me to learn it.” The increasingly intense rivalry had turned their relationship from casual into something far more serious. It had taken years for them all to accept that Byleth had arranged all of their relationships, much like she had arranged their lives. “Here, quiet down.”

The best fishing spot in the castle was the large pond in the center of the castle. It was rich with fish, had a peaceful ambiance, and even possessed a waterfall. Byleth’s favorite fishing spot was way out on the outskirts of the castle and bordered a cow pasture. Fishing was a meditative task, and for her it demanded maximum isolation. At Garreg Mach they could clearly see her fishing at the docks during most of her free periods, but nobody was stupid enough to bother her. She had a way of making the blankest stare feel hostile.

Cows lowed among them, peaceful and stinky. Felix and Sylvain pulled on their hard months of stealth training and snuck through the brittle and scraggly bush, ducking beneath overhanging branches and gently sidling out of the brush to the other side.

The sight was unimpressive: the pond was just as scabby and tattered as the bush, and the sagging tree branches spread over the pond creaked in the weak spring breeze. Despite the spring, the pond’s foliage was limp and cracked. The only redeeming feature was the solid selection of particularly stupid fish. Due to a confluence of all of these factors, it was Byleth’s favorite fishing spot.

Sylvain leaned close into Felix’s ear. “Didn’t Byleth’s handmaidens already search the fishing spots?”

“Not this one. It’s her secret spot. Nobody with half a brain would tramp through all of this cow shit.”

“Then why do you know about it?”

Special Tea Time. “Classified.”

“The fuck does that -”

Felix slapped a hand over Sylvain’s mouth. Silence and stealth was now of the utmost priority. He had found his quarry.

Of course, the quarry was the Debatably-Byleth Cat. It was sitting exactly at Byleth’s favorite place to sit on the bank, leaning over the pond as its tail lashed. Its eyes tracked the surface of the water, alert and ready as it waited over its prey. The cat’s fur had looked black last night, but in the color in the daylight was clearly dark blue.

“That’s supposed to be Byleth?” Sylvain hissed. “Felix, it’s obviously a -”

“Watch!”

Felix almost missed it. The cat had watched its quarry for over a minute, but in retrospect it had clearly just been waiting for the right opportunity. The cat lashed out a gleaming silver claw, spearing a fish and pulling it out of the water. The movement was smooth as silk and so quick that Felix barely caught it. The fish flopped pathetically onto the shores of the bank, and the cat wasted no time in almost swallowing the fish whole. It was probably the most impressive hunting Felix had ever seen.

The cat finished its meal and settled down happily onto the banks, flopping on its side to enjoy the gentle sun. Looking at its serene little squints, you could never tell that it had speared a fish and swallowed it whole in under three seconds. The bat of its paw was perfectly calculated to almost mathematic precision.

“Holy shit,” Sylvain said. “Byleth’s a cat.”

“I’m gonna have to apologize to Dimitri,” Felix said blankly. “Damn. I hate doing that.”

The cat re-embarked on its precise hunt, its bloodlust insatiable. Sylvain looked abjectly depressed. “He’s never going to forget this. This is going to validate him.”

Worst case scenario. “Maybe we don’t have to tell him?” Felix offered. Sylvain gave him a bizarre look. “What? What do you think’s going to upset him more, a missing wife or a cat wife?”

“Impossible to tell.” Sylvain faced down the cat grimly. It - she - casually speared another fish, shoving it down its gullet. Where was she putting it away? That fish was half as big as she was. “We gotta catch that cat.”

“I’m not getting into a fucking chase scene with our cat professor, Sylvain.”

Sylvain whistled, bright and sharp, and Felix immediately shoved him. The cat’s head rose, turning her head as her eyes locked straight onto Sylvain and Felix. They both fought instinctive quailing and the urge to apologize for disrupting the sacred fishing time.

Damn it. This was the point of stealth. She was going to freak out and run off, and Felix would actually be stuck in a horrible little chase scene with his academy professor -

The cat trotted over to them, tail swaying happily, and Felix and Sylvain froze as the cat stopped at their feet and blinked solemnly up at them. Those piercing mint green eyes made Felix understand how the fish felt. Sylvain, still traumatized from the academy, froze in horror and fear.

Felix bent down and scooped up the cat. He bounced her a little, holding her like a baby, and she meowed delightedly. Sylvain stared at the stone faced Felix and the happily purring cat, rapidly losing all will to live.

“She’s very friendly,” Felix said blandly.

Sylvain bent down a little, making eye contact with the pleased cat. Hesitantly, he said, “Professor? Is that you?”

The cat mrrp’d.

“Meow if you can understand me, Professor.”

The cat yawned.

“I think Byleth might be a regular cat,” Felix said, scratching her behind the ears. “So what do we do now, your lordship Grand Chamberlain?”

“I wish I was in a meeting,” Sylvain said, desolate.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t.” Sylvain sighed, running his hand through his hair. “We can’t let anybody find out about this. The future queen of Faerghus is a cat…how did this even happen? Damn it, why does this only happen to us? What are we supposed to do with her?”

“I don’t know,” Felix said, “does your son want a pet?”

“He’s nine months old, he doesn’t want anything,” Sylvain snapped. “Gather everybody. I’m calling a house meeting. Including Dimitri and the cat.”

Felix raised Cat Byleth to eye level, bouncing her a little. “What do you think, my lady? Are you making a new rule of the Blue Lions? Is it ‘we only eat trout’? ‘If we can fit in it, we can sit in it’? ‘Our kittens are acquaintances’?”

“Let’s go, Felix! And don’t let go of that cat!”

Man, he was cranky lately.

***

Sylvain did absolutely have a baby. He had met the squirt around twice. It was hilarious.

The birth of Felipe Emilie Gautier was celebrated throughout the country, and the blessing of the goddess was assumed: Sylvain and Mercedes Gautier’s first child was a boy and born with a crest. You couldn’t get any luckier. Dimitri had been hailed by the country as a miracle baby because he was the king and queen’s first child and was born a boy with a crest. There had been celebrations in the streets for a week.

Good thing, too. Sylvain had refused to have any mistresses. His children would be born via Mercedes, and fuck everybody else. Maybe the goddess had approved of the romanticism.

Sylvain’s position as heir Gautier had already been locked down. But his war heroism, decorated office, and blessed child catapulted him into the second most powerful position in Fodlan. To Felix, it was clearly a little disconcerting for him: nobody had ever valued Sylvain for anything beyond his crest. Nobody outside of the cult had ever respected Sylvain as a person. Sylvain’s reputation in their schooling and his home had been of an empty-headed callous playboy, and no amount of kindness, intelligence, and wisdom from him could dent that reputation. Obviously, war heroism and kingly favoritism turned that around. He was an invaluable asset in making Fodlan strong. Look at his baby.

Sylvain did not look at his baby that often. As much as Felix gave him shit about it, he knew that it was natural. Sylvain worked in the castle and the Gautier capital was two weeks of travel. Losing a month of work to travel was unacceptable, never mind the time spent at home. Sylvain had spent a month at home when Mercedes gave birth and returned six months later to attend the annual fiefdom congressional meeting. That was it.

Mercedes herself found that kicking around a castle living with her in-laws was a thoroughly boring experience, so she and Felipe were living at the border of the Duscur territory and working with Dedue to build schools and conduct humanitarian missions and whatever-the-fuck. Even letters took ages to reach her.

Dimitri, by this point thoroughly aware that he had stolen everybody else’s fathers, had immediately offered to move Mercedes and Felipe into the castle. Mercedes herself had declined: she was needed at Duscur, not Fhirdiad. Sylvain understood, for the same reasons that Mercedes understood why he had to live at the castle, and they loved each other as much as ever. But Felix knew a small part of Sylvain was a little relieved too. Sylvain was ashamed of the feeling, but that didn’t stop him.

“Think of it this way,” Felix had said. “You didn’t want to be a father. Mercedes wanted to be a mom. You knew you would lose your place in the line of succession if you didn’t become a father.” If a noble of a crested home didn’t have a child their entire territory would excommunicate them. No exceptions. Hilarious. “Now you and Mercedes both get what you wanted. Mercedes gets a baby, and you get to pretend the baby doesn’t exist.”

Sylvain had actually attacked Felix over that one.

Technically the situation wasn’t Sylvain’s fault. The sword at his neck forcing him to be a parent was incredibly fucked, there was nobody else any Blue Lion trusted to do his job, and the castle incompetence left him taking on so much work that he couldn’t take a break. Maybe it was mean to tease him for child neglect, as if there was anything he could do about it.

That wouldn’t stop Felix. His father had made, in retrospect, a stunning effort to see him as frequently as possible, but that was maybe glimpses of him for a week every three months. Glenn’s death wasn’t the only thing that had strained their relationship. Even Felix was luckier than his friends: his forced bonding time with Dimitri at the castle once he turned five meant that he saw his father too. Felipe might not be so lucky.

Just because it was unavoidable didn’t make it acceptable. Sylvain was fucking up his relationship with his kid. When that baby was an uncertain child, struggling to navigate the oppressive nature of his world, his father would not guide him. When that baby was a bitter teenager, he would blame the father that didn’t want him for the faults of the world. From this distance, it was easy for Sylvain to forget that. Felix wouldn’t let him. Shoving this pain away would push it onto somebody who didn’t deserve it.

Ingrid and Ashe, the token monogamists, weren’t married out of sheer spite. Petra had asked Ashe to return to Brigid to help her with some invaders, and Ingrid had sent him away with support from ex-Adrestian troops. When he returned, he would probably move in with Ingrid into the castle and raise their own child within the castle. Having that Galatean baby out of wedlock might be a bit extreme even for spite, but Ingrid would probably satisfy herself by eloping with Ashe’s lack of title and absolute poverty. Dimitri’s child wouldn’t steal the baby’s father. An unusually lucky baby.

As for Felix. Annette had submitted their ten year plan onto Felix’s desk and he had rubber-stamped it. Felix would continue splitting his time between his own lands and his castle; Annette would continue her work as Royal Magician. At age twenty eight, once she received the highest level of acclaim she could receive from the Inter-Continental Magical Association, she would leave her position to her successor and return with Felix to Fraldarius full-time. Annette would have the kid and take up a professorship position at the university as she continued her independent research. Felix, you can split your time in half between the castle and raising the kid. Three children maximum, another if one is a jock. You’re on your own after that one. If you have to choose between the castle and your kids, Felix -

Yes, Annette. He’d pick the children. Almost all of them would. Byleth had raised a strange group.

The men had even gotten together and unanimously agreed to only resort to mistresses if their wives asked. Sylvain had flatly refused. Almost all of them had a stupid amount of half-siblings: it was extremely common practice for lords to try for children with other women if their wives weren’t delivering on the Crest front. Ingrid had a truly insane level of half-siblings, none of which she had met. Ingrid and Ashe had frankly stated that they were having as many as they felt like having, and that chasing the crested baby was her brother’s job. It was technically meant to be hers, but somewhere along Ingrid’s three hundredth kill she stopped caring about what she was supposed to do.

Sylvain’s monstrous half-brother was actually the full child of the lord and lady - Sylvain himself was the child of his father and apparently the most gorgeous woman in her village. Any crested child out of wedlock was bought from the mother and adopted into the lord and lady’s family, given the title of heir, and treated as if they had been there the entire time. Sylvain was apparently identical to his mother. Maybe. He didn’t look anything like the lord. He took after her in personality too. Maybe. He didn’t act anything like the lord. He had never met her, and his father couldn’t be assed to remember her name. When Sylvain got drunk he wondered how much his mother had sold him for.

The flood of extra children had extra utility: namely, that noble tradition put its nobility on the front lines of war literally all of the time, and they all had the habit of dying like flies. Felix had a funny family story from his grandfather about how a generation of Fraldariuses three generations ago had been wiped out in a war against Sreng. Desperately, they literally had to scavenge together a handful of impoverished village bastard children to fill out their ranks again. His entire noble family were the descendents of mistresses. It was a skeleton in their closet that Felix found hilarious.

None of them knew Dimitri and Byleth’s plan. They were all privately concerned that Byleth didn’t know where babies came from and that Dimitri was too awkward to explain.

Felix had spent five years as an underground revolutionary. He had fought and won a war that unified the continent. He was one of the five most powerful people on the continent. He was renowned as the greatest Master Savant on the continent and was forced to regularly turn down a flood of requests to take apprentices or teach his methods. But he had never really felt like an adult until he was forced to sit at a table with Annette and haggle out how many uncrested children they would have until Felix would start taking mistresses.

Or had it been earlier? Maybe it should have been. Maybe the first time Felix helped feed Dimitri should have been his tipping moment into adulthood. It hadn’t. He had only felt achingly young. He had been painfully aware of his own inadequacy: his fear, his helplessness, his daily dances with death. He had wanted the professor.

For years, they had all wanted the professor. She was the only protector they had who hadn’t split her time between their duties and their families. She had dedicated her entire life to them. Every second of her day was about helping them grow, nurturing their minds, healing their spirit, and pushing them to the brink. It was attention they had never gotten from somebody who had never been obligated to give it.

Families were obligations and pressures. Families were lonely birthday parties and glimpses of their fathers. Families were false mothers who knew you were a cuckoo in their nest. Families were dead mothers, dead fathers, and an extended family who convinced themselves that you stole your cousin’s nonexistent crest. Families were the price your mother put on your head and the faceless wash of half-siblings who you would never know.

“The Blue Lions are family,” Ashe had murmured into the dark, a long time ago. A dark cabin and a rare meeting between almost all of them. “Right?”

Ingrid shifted closer against him, creaking the rusty mattress thrown unceremoniously to the floor. “You’re all family to me.”

Three of her brothers had died in the invasion.

“I believe that we choose the family of our hearts,” Mercedes had said quietly. “My adopted father is no father to me. I care for all of you deeply.”

“None of you would ever abandon me.” Annette’s voice was a little thick. Felix had squeezed her hand. “Of course you’re my family.”

“Family is a complex matter,” Flayn had yawned. They hadn’t even realized she was awake. Girl had always been chronically tired. “It’s somewhat of a construct…but far too much emphasis is placed on blood ties in our society. I’ve always had the freedom to arrange my own family. You all will always be a part of it.”

“Fuck my family and its fucking bloodline shit. I can’t tolerate them. I love you all more than anything. No debate here.” Sylvain reached out and gently tapped Dimitri on the shoulder. Dimitri’s face was buried in his ragged pillow, his silky hair tangled over his sheets. They had successfully wrangled him into a bath yesterday. “What about you, Dimitri? We know you’re awake.”

Dimitri curled up on his side, pointedly putting his back to Sylvain. Voice hoarse and deep, he muttered, “I have a mother and father.”

“And I have a brother,” Felix had said. “The living don’t overwrite the dead. None of us here want to be your mother, anyway.”

“My sister slaughtered my family.” Alright, maybe bringing up family to Dimitri had been a shit idea. “She’ll kill you too.”

Lightly, Sylvain had said, “We’re pretty tough cookies. Have a little faith in us, Your Highness.”

“You should leave,” Dimitri had hissed. “You’re all going to die.”

Felix had groaned. “Did telling us to abandon you work the last twenty times, asshole?”

“We’re in danger anyway, with or without you,” Ashe had reasonably pointed out. “Together or apart. Might as well do it together, right?”

Dimitri muttered something under his breath and buried his face deeper into the pillow. He pointedly ignored everything they said after that, and they politely let him pretend they weren’t there.

Their best friends forever schtick was a childish promise at seventeen, and their cutesy found family shit had been a childish promise at nineteen. But it was still true, despite everything: they had all married each other. If you didn’t marry, it barely mattered. Mercedes had been living with Dedue for months, and Ashe was currently on another country’s front lines side by side with Petra. Their family had stayed together. Cute, technically. Definitely the desired outcome for all of them. None of them would have it any other way.

But hey. Sylvain hadn’t promised his baby to be family forever, had he?

***

The Blue Lions held their sleepover that night in Dimitri’s chambers. Goddess knew what his guards thought about the late night bedroom meetings. They all had reputations. Sylvain was under the impression that he and Felix were very discreet, which meant that half the castle probably knew. Sure, war rooms and sitting rooms had been invented for a reason, but sitting rooms didn’t have Dimitiri’s gigantic bed.

The sleepover began without Dimitri. Felix’s wife worked the longest hours, but she was one of the blessed lucky officials without a meeting every hour, so Ingrid had successfully tracked her down and explained the situation. Felix was graced with her company the second he escaped the last nightly obligation of the day and barged into Dimitri’s room. Annette was happily playing with Cat Byleth on Dimitri’s bed. At least she hadn’t escaped.

“This is the cutest kitty,” Annette gushed. “You are just the most friendly, nicest little stray I’ve ever seen! And so glossy!”

“If you start singing Lady Byleth little songs I’m walking out the door.”

“Aw, but look at her.” Annette held up Cat Byleth, swaying her a little. Cat Byleth stared into Felix’s eyes, judging his soul and assignments. “She deserves little songs. Are we really naming her Lady Byleth? Things are going to get confusing if we do. How about the Professor?”

“Incredibly bad news.”

Annette lowered Cat Byleth, giving Felix a dubious look. “Ingrid said that Dimitri says that…” Felix nodded grimly. “So…we’re dissuading him of that notion, yes?” Felix’s grim look sank six feet under. “Darling?”

“I’ll explain once everyone’s here.”

Sylvain arrived after her, flopping down dramatically next to Annette onto the bed and groaning with exhaustion. Felix dragged over his favorite plush armchair, pushing it against the bed and propping up his shoes on the luxurious embroidered sheets. Sylvain refused to even look at the cat. Annette gleefully cooed at the cat until she fell backwards onto the bed and instantly began snoring. Felix slid a pillow under her head.

Ingrid joined them shortly afterwards, chugging a beer, and cautiously took a seat on the chaise lounge on the other side of the bed from Felix. Cat Byleth was happily kneading one of the pillows. Ingrid squinted at the cat. Cat Byleth purred.

Finally, Ingrid proclaimed, “I don’t see it.”

“It’s a very unique shade of eye color,” Felix pointed out.

“Look how happy she is,” Ingrid said. The cat was having the time of her life. “If you were turned into a cat, you wouldn’t have fun like that. Even if you really did have a cat brain, you’d be pretty freaked out. Wouldn’t you?”

Felix had to concede the point. Felix would be biting everything.

Dimitri was the last to arrive. He stopped short when he entered his own quarters, cape already halfway unlatched, and stared blankly at the assembly. Everybody else turned to look at Ingrid, who raised her hands in a plea for innocence.

“I told him! I mentioned it twice.”

“Forgive me. My mind was somewhat preoccupied today.” Dimitri slowly finished unlatching his cape, moving to toss it on the nearest flat surface. Annette twitched an eyebrow at him. He slowly hung up the cape on the hook near the door. ��Good evening, all. You…brought B - the cat.”

“She is really just so precious.” Annette was sitting cross-legged with the sleeping Cat Byleth in her lap, scratching her behind the ears. “I’ve never met a sweeter cat. And she’s just so fluffy!”

“Right,” Dimitri said stiffly. He walked into the room, stiffly surveying the group. “Is the intervention necessary?”

“It’s more of a family meeting,” Sylvain said. Dimitri clearly mentally tacked ‘tactfully’ onto the end of that sentence. “I just figured we should put our heads together and figure this situation out, Your Majesty. And hey, it’s been almost a week since we were all in the same room!”

“That’s because Annette never leaves the tower,” Felix said blandly.

“If it’s a family meeting, it’s Dimitri.” Dimitri disappeared into his closet and began changing clothing as Annette mimed aiming a Fire spell at Felix’s face. They had chased away Dimitri’s manservants, so Felix would have offered to help him remove the armor, but Dimitri had designed the armor specifically so he could remove it himself. Apparently he had found time to learn metalworking in his training schedule. Somehow. “Do the guards have any leads on my wife?”

“Nothing.” Ingrid looked a little uncomfortable. “We don’t want to cause a panic, so we’re searching in plain clothes, but some of them are beginning to grow concerned.”

“Annette, have you tried a tracking spell?”

“Yep. It completely fizzled out.” Quickly, Annette added, “Not as if she was dead! It was like a letter that was returned to the sender. It mystified the hell out of me. I couldn’t figure it out. I was considering writing Lysithea about it.”

Dimitri emerged from his closet, wearing far more casual and soft clothes. The cat’s ears twitched, and she opened her eyes and lifted her head to see Dimitri standing in front of the bed. She jumped out of Annette’s arms and bounded over to Dimitri, jumping up into his automatically outstretched arms. She immediately began rubbing her head against his chest, purring up a storm, and Dimitri very gingerly cradled her in his arms.

Slowly, Dimitri said, “Felix, take the cat.”

“Don’t feel like it,” Felix said blandly.

“Felix - !”

“You’re an adult, hold your own wife.”

“Did you feed her earlier or something?” Ingrid asked, fascinated. “Animals tend to hate you, Dimitri. But she’s so affectionate…”

Exceptionally gentle and slow, Dimitri stroked the cat’s fur backwards. Cat Byleth wriggled happily. “She’s liked me since I met her. If you all have any arguments to address my…thoughts, I would like to hear them.”

Sylvain and Felix looked at each other. They silently battled for their lives. Sylvain silently reminded Felix that he was the one who ruthlessly shut him down last night, and that this might make up for it. Felix silently cursed him out for being right, as usual.

“I have no idea how to say this in a way that doesn’t make me sound as insane as Dimitri,” Felix said bluntly. Better rip off the bandaid. “But Sylvain and I think Dimitri’s right. The cat’s definitely Byleth.”

The girls stared at Felix blankly. Dimitri’s eyebrows skyrocketed upwards.

“Do you really think so?” Dimitri asked urgently. “Are you certain? What are your deductions?”

“We caught her fishing in Byleth’s fishing spot. She kills like Byleth kills. It’s a…distinctive sort of murder.” Sylvain sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I can’t make it sound good either. It just feels so obvious. Man, I wish Mercedes was here. She’d have insight.”

“All three of you feel certain?” Ingrid asked. All three men nodded with varying levels of enthusiasm. She turned back to the cat, leaning forward and staring intently at it. After a heart-stopping minute, she said, “It would answer some persistent questions. If all of you are certain, I’ll trust you. Annette?”

Annette hummed, tapping her chin. “Magic can’t turn humans into cats. But Lady Byleth is no ordinary human. And…we were playing around with a lot of highly experimental spells yesterday…yeah, this isn’t making me sound great.”

“We all vote that this cat is my wife?” The room nodded as one. Dimitri slumped, tension unwinding from his frame as he exhaled. “Thank the goddess. I was so damn worried…thank the goddess, truly.”

“Was that really the problem here?” Sylvain asked. “Not the wife cat situation?”

Dimitri’s expression tightened unhappily. “I deny it sometimes, Sylvain, but I can tell when my mind is cloudy. Having delusions like this while knowing my mind is clear…it made me doubt a lot of things. I’ve been unsettled all day.”

Damn it. Felix felt horrible. “It’s not on you, Dimitri. I completely shut you down last night. I know you don’t want me humoring you, but I should have heard you out.”

“It’s not your fault,” Dimitri said, absolutely predictably. “I’m hardly a - a reliable source. Really, considering how I betrayed your trust in me as a friend and leader, I couldn’t possibly ask you to trust me at all, let alone in such a ridiculous situation -”

Fantastic, Felix no longer felt bad. “Shut the fuck up, you’re so annoying. Aren’t you done with your apology tour by now?”

Dimitri scowled at him. “I’ll stop apologizing when I stop doing things to apologize for.”

“You never feel guilty for the right thing, you know that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You two are far too old for this,” Sylvain said severely, and both men shut up. “Felix, save the tough love for when Byleth isn’t a cat. Dimitri, wait until Byleth’s finished being a cat before you start self-flagellating again. Annette, were you really hitting Lady Byleth with random spells yesterday?”

Annette, the true wrong-doer in the situation, abruptly looked a little shifty. “It was scientific experimentation.”

“On the queen of Faerghus?”

“She said she was bored!”

“So you turned her into a cat?”

“It wasn’t on purpose!” Annette cried. “I was trying to invent a spell to improve eyesight! How was I supposed to know it would turn the queen of Faerghus into a cat?” She drooped, crushed by the weight of her own sins. “Oh, I never should have tried mixing Reason and Fate theorems into the same proof. This is what happens when we try getting experimental…I’m so sorry, Dimitri. And Byleth.”

“Magic can’t turn people into cats,” Felix hissed. “You’re doing fake magic.”

“It’s not fake if it works! You’re just a classicist.”

“Improvisation magic doesn’t create new theorems, it creates explosions. And cats.”

“Maybe you’re just jealous I managed to turn the Professor into a cat and you couldn’t.”

“I could turn Byleth into a cat if I wanted -”

“If I was literally any other king,” Dimitri ground out, strangled, “and you were any other court magician, you would be fired at best for using the queen as an experimental subject. My grandfather executed court magicians for less.”

Felix straightened, scowling. “Are you threatening my wife -”

“Shut the fuck up for once, Felix!” Sylvain snapped. “You can’t threaten the king!”

“Oh, you’re always taking his side -”

“You’re always making me point out the absolute obvious -”

Dimitri scowled, looking away. “I was the one pointing out the obvious. I wasn’t threatening - that wasn’t the intention, Annette, I just -”

“It’s alright,” Annette said miserably. “You’re right. I got too excited and stopped thinking things through again. I’m a failure as a court magician.”

“You’re the most talented magician I know, Annette,” Dimitri said, all soppy earnest. Ugh. As if he wasn’t totally threatening her a second ago. “You aren’t a failure at all. I admire you greatly.”

“Aw, Dimitri. Thank you -”

“But if you fail in un-catting my wife you are in very serious trouble with the royal family of Fodlan.”

“See!” Felix cried, throwing out a hand. “An obvious threat!”

Cat Byleth meowed disapprovingly. She blinked at them, somehow with great intention. Everybody fell silent in absolute shame and mumbled apologies. Dimitri was a little red.

Finally, Ingrid coughed a little. “I think we can all agree some mistakes have been made tonight.” Everybody looked at the floor. “Let’s just focus on solving the problem. Your Majesty?”

“Right.” Dimitri kissed the top of Cat Byleth’s head, making her mrrp adorably. “Annette, you drop everything you’re doing and fix her as soon as possible.” Annette opened her mouth, ready to argue on behalf of her three other deadlines. She had moaned about the imminent book chapter final submission deadline for a week. “That’s an order. If you miss a deadline then tell them to take it up with me.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I just hope I can.” Annette picked at the luxurious comforter, desolate. “This happened because I used Faith magic beyond my level of expertise. A novice can tangle a knot in seconds that a master would take hours to fix. I wish Mercedes was here…she knows enough about white and black magic to diagnose the problem immediately.”

“Is she the only Gremory in Fhirdiad?”

“She’s one of seven in Fodlan, and four of them are in Adrestia. Two are in the ex-Alliance. She’s the only Gremory in Faerghus.” Annette muttered something uncomplimentary about Adrestria hoarding all of the good magicians.

“Then bring Mercedes here. Requisition the Adrestian mages if you have to.”

Sylvain straightened, eyes widening. “She’s over two weeks travel away, Dimitri.”

Dimitri looked back to Annette, who was clearly falling into despair. “Can you fix her yourself, Annette?”

Annette hesitated, biting her lip. “If I study hard, maybe. Or I might turn her into a smaller cat…or I might blow her up…”

“We’re calling in Mercedes. If Byleth is a cat for two weeks, then she’s a cat for two weeks.” Dimitri glanced at Sylvain for the first time, thoughtful. “Ask her to bring Felipe. Might as well make something good out of this. I still haven’t met him yet.”

“Aaaa,” Sylvain said.

“You haven’t?” Ingrid asked, surprised. “But you gave him that ridiculous birthday gift.”

“There is no point to conquering a country if you can’t give its smaller islands to a baby,” Dimitri said stiffly. “I want to meet him. I also want this problem fixed.” He looked sternly at Annette and Felix, who abruptly both looked at the ceiling. “This was an accident, and accidents happen. I do not intend for anybody to find out about this. I don’t intend on punishing anybody right now. But if the accident is not fixed I will hold the house of Fraldarius responsible. And yes, Felix. That is a threat.”

“That’s fair,” Annette said, desolate beyond what her peppy little heart deserved. “I really am sorry, Your Majesty.”

Dimitri softened, and he held the cat a little closer to his chest. “It’s still Dimitri. Trust me, Annette. This would be an inconsequential matter if it was only myself. But it’s Byleth’s safety that I’m worried about. I have to take that seriously.”

“We all do,” Ingrid said gently. “We’re all just as worried as you, Dimitri. We’ll work together on fixing this. There’s nothing Mercedes can’t do, so we’ll just have to hang on until then.”

Felix was not just as worried as the rest of them. But this was severely not the time or place to say so. He just nodded solemnly with everybody else.

“And please have somebody keep an eye on her. I don’t want her run over by a carriage or eaten by wolves.” Something disturbing clearly occurred to Dimitri. “Or want kitten children.”

“Ew,” Annette said.

“I’d love them anyway, of course,” Dimitri continued to himself. “But it would still be strange. They couldn’t exactly have a place in the line of succession…but we couldn’t just give them away…”

“What if she was pregnant when she got turned into a cat?” Felix asked, bored. “She could give birth to kittens that are genetically yours.”

“Oh, goddess,” Dimitri said, paling, “she totally could.”

“She could not, I’m obviously fucking with you -”

Sylvain just looked pained. “Felix, please stop teasing Dimitri.”

“But it’s so easy.”

And then they were all off again, and Cat Byleth took a luxurious nap to the sound of her students’ incessant bickering.

***

Felix had a small secret: he wasn’t really all that worried.

He also wasn’t seventeen anymore, and he now understood that certain sentiments had a certain time and a place. Annette’s well-intentioned carelessness had already put them both in hot water with Dimitri - it would push their luck if Felix was seen acting as if this was a good thing. It was, in fact, somewhat dangerous - Felix had faith in Byleth’s ability to win in a territory fight against another animal, but he didn’t like her odds against a carriage or a monster. But Byleth had survived much less stupid situations than this, and Felix had decided to kick up his heels and relax. This was, after all, a good thing.

It was obvious. Felix would wonder why nobody else saw it, but he knew how oblivious and self-absorbed everybody else was. They were all too wrapped up in their own stress and projecting all of it to realize the straightforward truth. Mercedes would notice, but she was a handy second reason why this was a good thing. She would agree with Felix immediately: that Byleth was honestly living her best life.

Despite what the overgrown children around him thought, Byleth didn’t actually live to work. Byleth’s ideal day - as recited during a Special Tea Time years ago - consisted of training for a few hours in the morning, fishing for eight hours, eating three giant meals, sitting in companionable silence with Dimitri, and holding a Blue Lions sleepover at night. Three naps had been mandatory: one at ten in the morning, another at two in the afternoon after a big lunch, and another at five in the afternoon after a hard day fishing.

The woman was the queen of Faerghus slash Fodlan and had no opportunity to spend all day doing nothing but fish. She was busy every second, and had been for as long as Felix knew her. There was no such thing as a day spent lazing around in Byleth’s world. In a cat’s…

So far as Felix could tell, Cat Byleth did nothing other than hunt, sleep, and cuddle with them. Felix figured that it was actively mean to undo this spell too quickly. He knew better than to vocalize this opinion. Mercedes would agree with him.

Some people were meant to be born a Lagunz or beastkin or something. This was probably righting a natural order of things. Maybe restoring Byleth to cat-hood would lift the curse on the Fraldarius family bloodline. Which Glenn might have invented to tease him, but it was real, damn it.

“Look,” Felix told his lovely wife, “I’m just saying. We still don’t know where the hell she came from. It’s not physically possible for a person to develop human emotion after they finished puberty. And Seteth kept saying that Jeralt hadn’t aged a day in twenty years. You know what species ages slowly?”

His lovely wife hadn’t been accommodating. “Goodness, Felix, not another one of your conspiracy theories.”

“Conspiracy theories?” Felix had yelled, throwing up his hands. “What conspiracy theories? You mean my famous conspiracy theory, the one where Dimitri’s -” A violently vengeful murder-happy psycho with severe mental problems, which Felix didn’t feel comfortable saying anymore. He hadn’t vocalized a thirst for murder in more than a year. “ - you know. That one? The true one? The fact?”

“There’s a perfectly good explanation for why Lady Byleth is a freak of nature,” Annette said primly. “She told me herself.”

“Yeah? What was it?”

Annette halted. “Uh. You know, the picture was a little unclear…”

“You know what’s clear as crystal to me?!”

Maybe Annette hadn’t turned Byleth into a cat after all. Maybe she had just disrupted the magic creating a human form. Maybe this was Byleth’s natural state. Strangely, nobody wanted to hear this.

Regardless, it wasn’t a safe situation. A ten pound apex predator was still ten pounds, and no matter how proficient she was against prey or other cats she wouldn’t match up to a cart or a horse. Dimitri was still unironically fretting about boy cats, and for once his paranoia was disturbingly plausible. The Blue Lions were busy people, but they could keep a 24/7 eye on a cat, right?

Annette tried keeping Cat Byleth locked in her mage’s tower. Cat Byleth escaped twice, knocked over expensive potion ingredients three times, and almost ingested a potion that would not have sat well with a cat’s delicate stomach. At the risk of Dimitri smiting their house with a lightning bolt, Annette was in no position to keep an eye on her.

Neither were the rest of them, who were far too mobile around the castle. Trying to keep her inside their chambers, even Dimitri’s gigantic ones, was hugely unsuccessful - when she wasn’t meowing miserably she was pulling objectively impressive escape attempts. They all silently wished that they had some sort of tactical genius or something around to solve their problems for them. Their two best tacticians were physically and emotionally compromised again. Time to pull in their tied third best tacticians. Or just one of their third best tacticians - Annette had been banned from further ideas, lest she make things worse again.

“It’s alright,” Sylvain said grimly. “I have an idea.”

“Oh boy,” Felix said. “I’m looking forward to this one.”

The idea involved a trembling servant boy. Balad was around fourteen years old, and clearly from Duscur - a beneficiary of Dimitri’s affirmative action hiring policies. The castle had a school for servant children and children of servants and everything. Insane quantity of orphans in this castle. Man never stopped projecting.

“This is a cat,” Sylvain told Balad. He passed Cat Byleth to Balad, who accepted her with a trembling sincerity. “This cat is your new job. Do not let her out of your sight. I’ve spoken with the chamberlain, so this is your only job for the next few weeks.” He stared Balad down firmly, who was already staring down his doom into Cat Byleth’s guileless eyes. “This cat’s safety is of paramount importance. Do you understand, Balad? We’ll give you a big reward for looking after her, but if anything happens you’ll get in big trouble.”

Balad stiffened, holding the cat closely to his chest. Byleth liked children, and she immediately began snuggling in Balad’s arms. “Y - yes, my lord! I will put my life on the line!”

“Normally that would be a pretty extreme thing to say,” Felix yawned. “But in this instance…yup.”

Balad looked down at Cat Byleth as if her large eyes held the future. Cat Byleth mrrp’d.

Felix remembered youth. How unpleasant and depressing youth had been. Everything had been life or death, even the actual life or death bits. There was a reason they’d put an immigrant teenage boy on the job - a knight would have eventually thought to himself, ‘This is just a cat, it’s ridiculous. Surely it can’t be that big of a deal’. But an immigrant teenage boy with his job on the line was probably convinced his life was on the line, and he would apply himself to the task with attentiveness five times greater than a knight could hope to reach. Felix and Sylvain knew this intimately - it was straight out of the Professor’s playbook.

Still, you had to miss the unique adventures that only a fourteen year old could have. Felix was a boring adult and wasn’t privy to a single one, but he occasionally held the privilege of catching glimpses out of whatever stupid shit poor Balad was dealing with that day.

Over the next two weeks, Felix saw: Balad hanging upside down from the rafters, Cat Byleth precariously held in his arms. Balad bravely rescuing Cat Byleth from the overly affectionate arms of a small gaggle of five year old girls. Balad in the cathedral, teaching Cat Byleth Duscurian prayer rituals. And, obviously, chasing after her as she ran through the kitchen and got paw prints in the flour.

Felix had the privilege of interrupting that one. He was passing by the kitchen as he heard a great commotion and sequence of crashes, and after a few seconds of exhausted deliberation he figured that he ought to do something about it. Felix looped around until he stood in front of the double entry doors in the staff mess area, crossing his arms and waiting patiently.

His patience bore fruit only a minute later. The doors blew open as a cat rushed out at breakneck speed, and Felix silently squatted down and grabbed the cat out of midair. Felix held her by the stomach with both hands and held her up for scrutiny, letting her dangle in the air. She was covered in tomato sauce, flour, and flecks of spinach.

“Having fun?”

Cat Byleth meowed. She was having the time of her fucking life.

Balad burst through the doors at a dead run only a few seconds after her, and by the time he saw Felix it was too late. Felix, prepared for this, steadied himself and held Cat Byleth out of the way just as Balad collided in a crash-course into Felix, falling back onto his ass as Felix swayed with the motion.

Balad groaned, rubbing his head and cursing people who stood around useless in halls under his breath. He opened his eyes and witnessed the person standing uselessly in a hall, eyes traveling slowly upwards as he saw Felix holding Cat Byleth and looking down at him with an arched eyebrow.

Slowly, Felix said, “Missing something?”

“Aaaa,” Balad said.

Felix sighed, holding Cat Byleth up until they made eye contact. He shook her lightly. She swayed happily with the motion. “I’m happy you’re having fun. Really. But do you have to torment serving boys like this?” Cat Byleth meowed happily. “Can’t fault you for honesty, I suppose.”

“I didn’t lose her!” Balad scrambled upwards, panting for breath. There was a clump of dough in his hair, and one of his shoes was lost. “She just - um - I’m sorry, Lord Fraldarius, I swear I had my eyes on her!”

“I believe you,” Felix said, amused. The kid’s determination was beyond admirable. “This one enjoys challenging young people. She thinks it builds character.” He returned Cat Byleth to Balad, who took her with a practiced ease and allowed her to curl up in his arms. “I hope she hasn’t pushed you beyond your limits.”

Balad shook his head fervently, hoisting Byleth in his arms. “This is just practice for knighthood!” Oh, no. This was adorable. “A knight of Faerghus protects the whole continent - and there’s no creature too small for the first Duscurian Knight to protect, I think - so Eisner’s just good practice!”

Felix’s eyebrows jumped up. “Eisner? As in the queen?”

Far too late, Balad’s eyes widened. Had he overheard them speaking? Serving boys knew when and where to gossip - had he told anybody? “Oh, I’m - I’m sorry, my lord! I apologize! It’s just that - well, it’s just that Eisner really reminds me of Her Grace. Something in her eyes…it’s ordinary to name cats after people you admire in Duscur, my lord, but if it’s disrespectful in Faerghus - oh, I bet it is disrespectful in Faerghus -”

“I think Her Grace would be flattered,” Felix said. Balad, who had already begun working himself up into an anxious spiral, abruptly deflated. “The first Duscurian Knight?”

Balad blushed a little, bouncing Cat Byleth and looking at the ground. “Don’t pay that any mind, my lord. Ever since His Majesty made new laws saying foreigners could be knights…no dream comes true if you sit around hoping for it, right? I don’t know a sword, but even I can practice being virtuous…but please pay that no mind, my lord.”

Wow. No wonder Cat Byleth was giving him a hard time.

Felix leaned down, making a show of tilting his ear towards Cat Byleth. “What was that?” Cat Byleth purred. “I see. You’re absolutely sure?” Cat Byleth yawned. “I couldn’t agree more.” Felix straightened, clasping his hands beyond his back and looking seriously down at Balad. “Eisner has spoken. She really thinks you’re Blue Lion material.”

Balad’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates. “The Blue Lions? Like - like your elite front line combat squadron? The revolutionary heroes?”

“We were students at Garreg Mach first.” Felix propped a hand on his hip, and he allowed himself a half-smile. “The Knight Captain of the Imperial Guard started out as a rebellious student with a dream. And the Royal Spymaster began as a commoner who used the skills he learned on the street to become a hero. They didn’t have anything you don’t have. If you train hard enough, you can protect what’s important to you. That’s all there is to being a Blue Lion. Even a cat knows that.”

Young kids like Balad didn’t associate the Blue Lions with Garreg Mach anymore. Yuri had already begun planning the major changes he’d make to the Academy once Seteth officially let go of the reins of the school and officially transitioned into his new role as Archbishop, and after some requests from Dimitri and Byleth he grew confident enough to start planning the complete overhaul. Yuri had been the first of anybody to see it, but it was Dimitri and Byleth who told everybody else - that there was no unity and cohesion among the continent when the houses grouped into national insularity. And murdered each other later. That put a damper on school spirit.

When something as awful as the Blue Lions could happen - when an institution could produce students who trusted nobody but their own neighbors, who isolated themselves so thoroughly that they could grow up and slaughter their classmates without a second thought. When the Golden Deer and Black Eagles could do the same. In some ways, Byleth Eisner was the greatest and final failure of Garreg Mach.

Besides. They didn’t really have three countries anymore. There was that little detail.

The four new houses held students from all over the continent. Students from Faerghus, the ex-Alliance territories, and the Territory of Adrestria attended the same houses and mingled in the same classes. There were reserved spots for exchange students from Brigid, Almyra, and even Sreng. A new definition of unity, to be sure, but they could only hope it would be a little more effective. Time would tell.

Poor Balad’s eyes were as big as dinner plates. Felix really hoped that the kid wouldn’t internalize these words or something. He was just saying shit. “Wow. Thank you, Lord Fraldarius.” He held Cat Byleth up to eye level, and he smiled for the first time. “What do you think, Eisner? Want to teach me how to be a Blue Lion?”

Cat Byleth meowed.

Balad grinned, and in an unselfconscious burst of joy he nuzzled her sticky forehead. “I knew I could count on you. The god of trials must have sent you to me.”

Fantastic back-handed compliment. Felix would have to remember that one. “Hey, kid. Do you know any Duscur curse words? Lord Dedue and Lady Mercedes refuse to teach me any -”

With impeccable timing, Cat Byleth jumped out of Balad’s arms and began sprinting down the hall. Balad cried in dismay, and with less than a second’s hesitation he set out after her in a dead run.

“Wait!” Balad called. “You need a bath, Eisner!”

Cat Byleth’s run turned into a sprint.

Felix watched them go, hands in his pockets. He had always wondered if Lady Byleth would ever take on another group of students. Queens had better things to do, and the continent probably couldn’t handle another year of her teaching style, so Felix had given up and decided it was for the best.

If this was her way of collecting more students, then a retired life was definitely for the best.

Oh, well. Definitely Sylvain’s problem.

***

Two and a half weeks after Her Grace Byleth Eisner Blaiddyd’s Great Catting, Mercedes and Felipe Gautier and Dedue Molinaro arrived at the castle. Happy as he was to see his family, these events were definitely Sylvain’s problem.

Hosting visitors as nobility was a huge production, and as usual royalty was twice as bad. They dressed up Mercedes’ visit as just a wife visiting her husband, backflipping out of making it a big thing, but Mercedes’ carriage still pulled up to the outside of the castle and met a giant team of servants, staff, and the Blue Lions themselves.

Sylvain, standing next to Felix with his hands folded behind his back, was tapping his foot. Then looking at the carriage advancing on them, then checking his watch. Then running his hand through his hair. Then looking at the carriage again.

Felix elbowed him. Sylvain elbowed him back. Felix elbowed him again, harder.

“It’s fine.” Sylvain had a wonderful habit of manifesting his reality. It was the confidence. “I’m excited to see them. It’s great. What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Dedue? If he was going to stop liking you, it would have happened after the second mock-battle dorm party.”

They both knew that Felix knew who Sylvain was actually talking about, so Sylvain ignored him. “I mean, how hard can it be to win over a baby? You just give them toys, right? What if he likes me too much, and gets upset when I’m not there? Is this a no-win situation?”

“I think this has been a no-win situation for a while,” Felix said, maybe tactfully.

According to the professor, in a no-win scenario you shifted your goals from victory towards survival. You stop trying to maximize ground or fortresses captured and start focusing on pulling back and saving fats from the fire. You couldn’t stop the blow, so you just protected yourself against it. It was a strategy Sylvain had understood perfectly well - it was the strategy Sylvain used to live his life, and it always had been. Babies included.

Sylvain’s face twisted, but if he had anything smart to say he didn’t get the chance. The carriage came to a full halt, and the small flight of footmen opened the door and helped the noble lady descend the stairs.

It was Mercedes, baby strapped to her back and smiling widely at them, and Sylvain lost all sense of propriety.

He lurched forward, pushing through the crowd and flying down the castle steps. He was supposed to wait for Dimitri to greet her, for some sort of official reception - but the same Sylvain who fretted for days over her arrival couldn’t wait one more second. Mercedes’ smile turned into a grin, and when Sylvain wrapped her in a hug she eagerly reciprocated. They stood there together, clinging onto each other, for the scarce few seconds Mercedes and Sylvain would ever allow themselves, before separating.

Miracle of miracles, Mercedes even unfolded Felipe from her back and balanced him on her hip. Whoah. He had gotten huge. Felipe sucked on a fist, watching the proceedings with wide eyes, and Sylvain bent over him for a few seconds. Mercedes and Sylvain’s body blocked Felix’s view, and whatever look may have been on Sylvain’s face or how Felipe may have reacted was lost to all but the two of them.

Then Dedue stepped out, as hulking and stone-faced as always. He looked good, tanned and relaxed. He was dressed in the clothing of his homeland - an interesting bit of political messaging. Felix glanced to his right, and completely predictably saw Dimitri grinning widely. He was clearly about two seconds from running up and hugging him too. Great.

It wasn’t that Felix had a problem with Dedue. His personality was completely inoffensive, which wasn’t something you could say about Felix. As a comrade on the field, he was second-to-none. And he was a Blue Lion - ‘nuff said. Felix would die for the guy, the guy would die for him, etc.

But Felix really didn’t think he was a good friend. Nobody who saw Dimitri suffer like that for years and helped him grow worse was anything resembling a good friend. Maybe if he saw Dimitri during those five years and fucking hand-fed him like the rest of them he would have realized the impact of the choices he’d made, but the guy had been a little busy living in hiding after he sacrificed his life for Dimitri’s. Which was why it was a little hard to hate him. Ugh. Felix was so brave for not picking a fight about this.

“Lady Gautier!” Dimitri called, his usually monotone voice tinged with an emotion that made it seem positively jovial. “Lord Molinaro! Well met! I trust your trip was uneventful?”

Mercedes curtseyed, in an impressive balancing act with the baby in her arm. “Greetings from House Gautier to His Majesty. We’re happy to answer His Majesty’s summons. Our trip was delightful.”

Dedue bowed, stiff as ever. “I am honored by the invitation, Your Majesty. Blessings from Duscur unto Faerghus.”

“Good! The servants will set you up. Now, for the most important business.” Dimitri stepped forward, descending the steps, and Mercedes and Dedue walked up to meet him. Sylvain hastily followed, hovering at Mercedes’ elbow.

Dimitri clasped Dedue’s hand, hugging him fiercely. Said a lot about Dedue’s sheer bulk that he handled a hug from Dimitri so tightly, but Felix knew Dedue gripped onto him just as tightly. They embraced closer than any lord and vassal ever would, probably more than two friends might, and they hung onto each other for just a little bit longer.

They separated, Dimitri’s eye bright, and he clasped Dedue’s arm a final time. “You look well.”

“I am, Your Majesty.”

“I was surprised that you elected to join Mercedes. Last time I checked the orphanage and school needed constant supervision.”

“I am pleased to say that they have grown stable. We left them in the capable hands of our staff. Viscount Meroe asked me to approach you regarding several matters.”

‘Ownership’ of Duscur had been neatly stripped from Viscount Kleiman and given to the elected leader of the surviving Duscuran people, who quickly re-assembled a stripped-down version of their old government. The woman was pants-shittingly terrifying and Felix had to fight the urge to give her whatever she wanted just to make her go away each time she showed up. Dedue was highly placed in their new government, but his primary role was as a link between Duscur and the king. He seemed happiest co-leading the orphanage and school with Mercedes, but the guy was the type to put duty before pleasure.

“I’ll have my secretary contact you and we can have a long conversation.” Dimitri gave him a final clap on the shoulder before turning to Mercedes and Sylvain, smile brightening. “Now! Most importantly! Do I finally have the honor of meeting the heir of House Gautier?”

Mercedes giggled, approaching Dimitri and presenting Felipe with faux-ceremony. “The honor is ours. Your Majesty, I’d like to present the young lord Felipe Emilie Gautier. Felipe, this is Uncle Dimitri. Say hello, Felipe!”

Felipe sucked on a knuckle. The kid had been pretty squishy and raisin-like when Felix first saw him, but even Felix had to admit now that he was an objectively beautiful, adorable child. It was the fantastic genes. Kid could have walked out of a painting. One of the twee ones.

“Bah bah?” Felipe asked the king of the continent.

“This is the perfect child,” the king of the continent decided.

Mercedes laughed, bouncing Felipe lightly on her hip. “You flatter us, Your Majesty. He’s certainly perfect to us.”

“I think it’s objective,” Dimitri said, almost heated. Ingrid, standing on the other end of the courtyard from Felix, made an exhausted face at Felix. Felix mimed shooting himself with his fingers. Annette had the right idea preparing their surprise cake in the kitchen. “I can’t believe I never met him before. He’s adorable, you two! He’s chubby! And look at his hair! He seems so soft!”

“Burble burble wah,” Felipe asserted.

“When is his next birthday?” Dimitri demanded. “A month? Can he have it here? How long do you think it’ll take before he can call me Uncle Dimitri?”

“Certainly not for a while,” Sylvain said, exasperated. Mercedes was outright laughing now. Dedue was hiding a smile behind a hand. “Do you want to hold hi -”

“Absolutely not. But come inside, he must be tired. You all must be tired. The servants told me we have baby accouterments for guests, but let the chamberlain know if you need anything and we’ll have it brought right away.” Abruptly, almost stressed, Dimtiri said, “Can he understand what I’m saying yet? What is his level of linguistic proficiency?”

Dedue sighed, badly fighting a smile. “Not much, but sometimes he surprises you. I believe he understands Duscuran better than the language of Fodlan.” Sylvain’s eyebrows rocketed upwards, and Dedue nodded in half-apology. “Mercedes and I try to speak Adrestian to him at home, but because he lives in Duscur I believe he’s more comfortable with our language.”

“He’s multicultural,” Dimitri whispered.

“Ah,” Sylvain said. “I didn’t - really think about that.”

Dimitri said something very seriously to Felipe in Duscuran.

“Wah wah wah,” Felipe agreed.

“Did he understand that?!”

“Can we please go inside,” Felix said. “Please.”

***

Balad sat in front of the high nobility of Faerghus, quaking in his boots and holding a cat.

He was sat on a stool at Annette’s workbench, tasked with the vital job of keeping Cat Byleth still while Mercedes carefully inspected her. The child was not coping well with almost the entire assembled original Blue Lions in front of him, but he was keeping a stiff upper lip about the matter. He seemed to have decided that, so long as he didn’t say a single word, they couldn’t chop his head off. Bizarrely, Balad sat closest to Felix and made sad eyes at him when he tried to get up and leave.

Mercedes hummed, finally closing out the diagnostic spells. She had been scrutinizing the cat for a solid ten minutes, which was longer than it took her to identify most poisons. She leaned back on her stool, exhaling heavily.

“I’m glad you waited for me to arrive, Annie.” The words were completely innocuous. Annette’s face fell. Everybody hissed. “Don’t worry, the magic isn’t dangerous. It’s just a little tricky. If you give me a day to write the counter-spell, I can have her all fixed up in half an hour.”

Dimitri brightened. He was sitting next to Balad, giving the boy a constant low-level heart attack. “Really? You’re a lifesaver, Mercedes!”

“I wouldn’t say that,” the woman who single handedly prevented five plague outbreaks and significantly contributed to ending a war said. “And please don’t be too hard on yourself over this, Annie. Every great inventor blows up a few labs here and there! Why, just the other day, Coco wrote to tell me how the entire kitchen was -” “We really let those rat people teach the future leaders of Fodlan, huh?” Felix muttered.

Sylvain arched an eyebrow at him. “I think it was a great idea. You couldn’t find a group of people more dedicated to Garreg Mach. Or a more neutral party.”

“Yeah,” Felix panned, “they hate all of Fodlan equally.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Thank the Goddess,” Annette sighed. Poor woman was exhausted - Felix had barely seen her the last two weeks. “I’m never getting experimental again. It’s just not worth all the stress.” She paused a second in thought before adding, “Of course, this was a practically unprecedented spell. Faith/Reason magic is a highly under-studied field. If I could recreate it, maybe I could publish a paper on -”

“No!” Everyone shouted in unison.

Everybody but Felix, who just yawned. “Beat you to it. Wrote a thesis on transformation magic for extra credit near the end of school. Lady Byleth gave me a new sword as a reward.”

“Damn it, Felix! Why are you always trying to one-up me?”

“I don’t have to try.”

Annette looked at Ingrid, who leaned against a spare workbench next to him. “I forgot how she used to give us new weaponry if we learned a subject well. I thought good grades were good enough for most students…”

“Did any of us really care about grades by the end of it?” Ingrid asked wryly. “The closest Lady Byleth could get to educating Dimitri was locking him in the classroom with us and seeing how long he could last before he started pacing around the room.”

Dedue said something sternly to Balad in their language, making Balad pale and stutter something back. Ingrid abruptly remembered that little pitchers had big ears and shut up, a little embarrassed.

But Dimitri just smiled at Balad and said something to him in perfect Duscuran. The kid stuttered something out too, but at a little more gentle prodding he began opening up. Dimitri pointed at Cat Byleth, who was napping peacefully in Balad’s arms, and Balad lifted her up and excitedly began chattering. Felix recognized that face by now - she had done something freakishly intelligent and Balad was very proud of her for it. Dimitri nodded, attention rapt.

Finally, when Balad sheepishly wrapped up his story, Dimitri switched back to their native language. “Regardless, I understand Sylvain promised you a good reward for your hard work. What would you like? You’ve done a fine job, so don’t be modest.”

“Oh. Um.” Balad scratched Cat Byleth’s ruff, looking down. “Does Eisner have an owner?”

Immediately, Dimitri said, “Not at all. She’s a free spirit.”

“She owns us, really,” Felix said.

“It’s an equal partnership, Felix!”

“Uh huh.”

“She’s a cat,” Ingrid said flatly. “She owns the castle.” Felix opened his mouth. “More so than usual.”

“Then…if it’s possible…” Balad flushed, but Felix saw him visibly screw up his courage. “...could I keep her?”

The entire assembled original Blue Lions stared at Balad.

He flushed deeper, but he held his ground. “I’d take really good care of her! It’s dangerous to be a stray cat, you know. There’s fleas and kitty gang fights. I’ve seen them myself. I think she’s gotten attached to me, too…maybe? It’s hard to tell with cats…but I really would be a good owner.” Balad turned up big cow eyes at Dimitri, who kept his now-usual poker face. “So…that’s the reward I’d ask for, Your Majesty.”

A long silence stretched across the room.

Dedue pinched the bridge of his nose, hard. He said something to Balad - something which probably wasn’t hostile or harsh, but was definitely unhappy. Balad paled. Dimitri quickly said something back to Dedue, with an intonation that sounded heavily like ‘don’t give him a hard time’. Dedue said something back, a little harder.

Then Mercedes broke into laughter, and the spell was lifted. Every Blue Lion started wheezing. Mercedes buried her head in her hands, shoulders shaking with laughter, and Sylvain was almost bent over in cackles. Annette was trying valiantly to keep a straight face, but her complexion almost turned red with the effort before she gave up and started snickering. Ingrid’s face was buried in her hands, wheezing. Felix smiled.

In Adrestian, Dedue said, “It’s not funny.”

“Man,” Sylvain wheezed, “it’s so fucking funny.”

“It’s disrespectful.” Poor Balad paled considerably. “As a representative of our people, it is -”

“A misunderstanding,” Felix said, and he was surprised by the firmness of his tone. “He’s not representing your people, he’s fourteen. Trust me, anybody who wants to stick around that shithead cat is a saint.”

“Felix!” Dimitri’s eyebrow twitched, scandalized. “Don’t call her a shithead!”

“Why not? She calls me a shithead.”

“Yes, but you don’t have the excuse of being a cat.”

Mercedes giggled again. “Aren’t cats sacred in Duscur? What’s more respectful than that?”

Dedue sighed, still kneading his forehead, but for the first time his lip quirked upwards in a smile. “By that logic, I suppose a servant from Duscur was the best choice in the castle.”

The corner of Dimitri’s lip curled too, a subtle match for Dedue. “You can admit you find it funny too, Dedue.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, Your Majesty.”

“She wouldn’t mind.”

“She better not,” Felix said flatly. “This is her fault too. A mage should know better than to use experimental magic on themselves. Her magic’s unique, anyway - no wonder something this bizarre happened.” Something troubling occurred to Felix. “Maybe cats are sacred in Fodlan too…”

Mercedes straightened, eyes widening. “Felix, you’re right! This wouldn’t have happened without Her Grace’s sacred magical energy.” Yeah, because humans can’t turn into cats. “Maybe the Goddess is…oh, wouldn’t that be interesting? I have to tell Yuri.”

Ingrid hummed thoughtfully. “That would explain all of the stray cats at the monastery.”

“Sure,” Sylvain said flatly, “let’s incorporate this into our worldview. The Goddess is also a Goddess of cats. If we decide it’s true then it has to be. That’s how religion works.”

Annette shrugged helplessly. “If anybody gets to decide how religion works, isn’t it the vessel of the Goddess?”

“We’ll have to ask her later.” Dimitri looked down at the sleeping cat in Balad’s arms, eye softening. “Thank you for your hard work Mercedes. Knowing this ordeal will be over tomorrow is a fantastic relief. Perhaps we can enjoy a small break in the meantime.” Dimitri half-smiled, crooked and stiff. “So many of us Blue Lions are here. That hardly happens every day. I’ve already arranged for a large feast tonight, with Dedue and Mercy’s favorites - why don’t we take some time off and schedule an activity for the day after tomorrow? After Byleth is cured.”

Ingrid brightened. “I could take a half-day. How about a picnic, Your Majesty?”

Dimitri’s eye crinkled. “Byleth would like that. I’m certain we could put something together. One second.” Dimitri looked to the right, at the stone wall. “Please, I’m in a meeting. You have to quiet down. I don’t know where your knife is.” He turned back to Sylvain. “I apologize for the interruption. What were we talking about?”

“Ingrid suggested we go on a picnic tomorrow, Your Majesty.”

Dimitri looked at the right wall again, brow furrowed, and didn’t say anything.

“Your Majesty,” Dedue said, even and steadfast, “are you with us?”

Something was louder than Dedue, and Dimitri’s attention was caught. Sylvain and Felix exchanged glances, thinking the same thing in unison. Downplaying Dimitri’s condition was no longer a matter of the war effort, and most of the castle was aware that the king had a chronic illness that left him spacey and moody, but it was best that the servants outside of Dimitri’s inner circle of servants saw as little of it as possible.

But Balad moved before either of them. Cat Byleth had woken up, paw batting in Dimitri’s direction, and Balad was carefully moving Cat Byleth from his lap to Dimitri’s. Cat Byleth eagerly slithered down from Balad’s grip into Dimitri’s lap, and she began pawing at Dimitri’s shirt immediately.

An old, ugly memory flashed in Felix’s mind - the Professor crying out in pain as a rabid Dimitri grabbed her arm, wanting to feel angry but fighting an overwhelming crush of fear instead - and he found himself starting forwards too.

But when Dimitri began absently petting Cat Byleth his touch was gentle, and his expression focused after only a few seconds of cuddling with her. He blinked hard, scratching Cat Byleth on the ruff, before looking back at the Blue Lions.

“Sorry, I must have dozed off.” Did he think that or was he instinctively trying to cover? It was always hard to tell. “I ought to…”

And, as always, Sylvain was right there in front of him. Already handling it all. “Rest? Of course, Your Majesty.” Sylvain quickly scooped Cat Byleth up from Dimitri’s lap, making her meow in protest, and deposited her back in Balad’s hastily outstretched arms. “The serving boy will entertain and play with Her Grace while you take it easy. Why don’t you take a nap or something and we’ll call you when the feast is ready?”

Dimitri scowled, but he allowed Sylvain to pull him up. “I’m perfectly fine, Sylvain.”

No doubt, but that wasn’t the point. Felix crossed his arms. “How much sleep did you get last night?” Dimitri looked at the ceiling. “Uh huh. If you want to be mentally present tomorrow instead of spacing out all the time, then you should get some rest.”

“Yes, yes.” Dimitri sighed, waving a hand. “You’re forbidden from working tomorrow, Sylvain. Spend the time with your family.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“How exciting,” Mercedes said, clapping her hands and smiling. “I’m going to make a nice big cake for the picnic tomorrow.” Sylvain raised an eyebrow. “Yes, yes, after I fix Lady Byleth. Annie, are you thinking orange or lemon?”

“Can Dedue make something?” Annette burst out. “It’s been forever since I’ve had his cooking!”

Dedue sighed, smiling. “Of course. I was already planning the menu.”

Ingrid thrust her hand in the air. “That honey pastry, please! Double servings!”

“Mercedes has grown adept at making that dish as well.”

“Then you’ll both have to make some,” Sylvain decided. “So we can see whose is better, of course.”

“Oh, darling, there’s no need to grow competitive. Dedue’s the best cook I’ve ever known.” Mercedes paused an ominous beat. “But baking and cooking are two very different skills.”

“You do not know what you have walked into,” Dedue told Sylvain. Felix trusted him - Mercedes had a crazy glint in her eye. “Our culinary battle has grown fierce in the last few months.”

“Stir-crazy?” Sylvain asked sympathetically.

“Blame the infant.”

“Yikes,” Sylvain said, about his own infant.

“That explains some things,” Dimitri said, clearly impressed despite himself. “After too long locked in a house with me, Mercedes would grow - if you excuse the pejorative term, Lady Byleth - somewhat…catty at the markets?”

“You’re misremembering, Your Majesty,” Mercedes said beneficently. “That never happened.”

“I - ah, if you say so, perhaps…”

“That’s not ethical, Mercie,” Annette said.

“Oh? Does it turn Dimitri into a cat too?”

“That was almost three weeks ago!” Annette cried, throwing her hands up. “Why aren’t we over this yet? Are you going to bring it up forever?”

Sylvain pinched the bridge of his nose. “She is still a cat, Annie.”

“I knew it,” Balad whispered.

***

Cat and baby faced each other across the field of battle.

Baby lay on his stomach, pushed upright on his two hands and gawking at his adversary. He reached out a hand, testing the reach of his weapon.

The cat sat on her haunches, surveying the position of her enemy. She swiveled her head to stare at the neutral parties lying on their stomachs a few feet away watching them. She requested additional information from their scouts. The neutral parties shook their heads regretfully. This battlefield was her own.

The baby made the first move. He crawled forward, advancing on the cat’s captured territory (her side of the rug). In a shocking move, the baby babbled a long, incoherent stream of noise. The tone sounded friendly - was it a request for parley? Or was it a vow of battle? When the only language the two parties held in common was the language of death, perhaps all attempts at negotiation would be futile.

The cat uncurled, stretching forward and sniffing the baby hesitantly. Cautious as always, the cat was taking the time to gain a sense of the enemy’s strength. Or was it a tentative reciprocation of the baby’s gesture for peace? Was it possible for this fight to end without bloodshed? Would the sun set on a green and pristine field today, unmarred by splatters of blood? Was such a thing even imaginable?

Then, in the midst of negotiations, the baby struck. He reached out a chubby fist and grabbed the cat’s fluffy midnight blue fur. First blood went to him. War had begun.

The cat’s counter-strike was instant. She batted at his hand, a light knock that was somehow reminiscent of hitting a student on the head with a wooden training sword. The baby felt the attack acutely, and withdrew his hand. The neutral parties readied themselves for a war cry of the wounded, but the baby only babbled at the cat again. This one was almost…recriminatory. Fascinating.

“Is he scolding her?” Felix asked.

“I thought she was scolding him,” Sylvain said. “Her claws aren’t out, right? She’s not going to scratch him? Maybe we should break this up.”

“Are you kidding? This is the funniest thing that’s happened to me in the last six months.”

The cat slunk forward - pressing her advantage, delivering a follow-up strike? The baby thrust out another hand, but it didn’t seem like an attack - more of a simple reach, almost an ache. The cat batted at his hand anyway.

The baby stuck out his hand. The cat batted it away.

The baby giggled.

Sylvain groaned, covering his eyes with his hands. “Dimitri was right. He’s the cutest baby. I can’t believe it. It’s like he knows he’s adorable! He targets his cuteness whenever he wants something!”

Felix did not state the obvious. It hung loudly in the air between them.

“Shut up. It’s because he’s smart. Way smarter than me, probably. Did you know he started standing at only eight months? Apparently that’s really early. He has these little Duscuran picture books - apparently he loves them, do you think he’s going to become a big reader? - and when he wants Dedue to read them to him, he crawls over and starts trying to get the books from the bin himself. He fell into the bin that way! Isn’t that cute or what?”

The genius of the century crawled closer towards probably the smartest cat in Fodlan. With a great and terrible ceremony, the baby reached out and gently patted the cat’s fur. More like smacked, honestly, but the cat seemed to understand the intent.

“He didn’t cry when he saw me.” There was something so awful and fragile on Sylvain’s face, too close to breaking to ever be called happiness. “I was terrified of that happening. I couldn’t stop imagining it. But he saw me, and he - he just looked curious, you know? Mercie says he’s a real curious kid. Always getting into stuff. Apparently every stranger is just a friend he hasn’t met yet! Can you believe it? He’s going to be a handful when he starts running around.”

Felix hummed, propping his chin on his hands. “Why are you so surprised that he’s a great kid? Did you think he’d be a terror?”

“I knew he’d be great,” Sylvain said, instantly defensive. “I just - I just didn’t realize I’d get so excited about it. I didn’t think it would make me feel this way. I thought I’d be immune or something.”

“To loving your own kid?”

“Do I love him?”

Felix turned to look at Sylvain for the first time, incredulous. “Am I the person to ask about that?”

But Sylvain just shrugged, and for the first time Felix saw the strange shadow of desperation over his expression. “You’re always noticing things nobody else does, Felix. Do you think I love him?”

It was, obviously, a question Sylvain couldn’t answer on his own. The kid had arrived at the castle yesterday, and Sylvain had spent every second since then either hiding from him on the other side of the castle or glued to his side. At this moment, Annette and Mercedes were locked up in the magician’s tower writing the anti-cat counter-spell. For the first time in the little guy’s entire lifespan, Sylvain was babysitting. Normally Felix would say parenting, but he wasn’t certain this counted as parenting. How the hell was he supposed to know.

Sylvain seemed acutely aware that he was babysitting instead of parenting. Say what you will about Sylvain, he wasn’t in denial about much. He tended to just ignore the feelings he didn’t like. Sylvain clutched onto his resentment with both hands, but Felix suspected that the emotion ran deeper and stronger than even Sylvain was aware of.

“I can’t answer that question for you.” It was the most obvious sentence in the world, but Sylvain sagged anyway. “Is it even important, anyway? The only thing that matters is your actions.”

Wryly, Sylvain said, “And as we’ve well established, my actions are shit.” He looked back at Felipe, who was heroically bridging the gap between their two factions. Cat Byleth was sniffing him curiously as he made cooing noises at her. “I thought I wouldn’t be capable of even liking him. Because - I thought my mind was too full up wondering how old I was when my mother sold me off.”

Cat Byleth rubbed Felipe’s face with her nose. Felipe laughed, tickled by the movement.

“It was probably five months, right?” There was a bizarre edge of desperation to Sylvain’s voice, poisoned by time. “That’s when most noble babies get tested for their crest. But it’s a pretty expensive test - maybe she had to save up? Or did she tell my father about me soon after I was born, and did he pay for it? How much was she even paid, anyway?” Sylvain took a deep breath, and he was clearly surprised when it shuddered. “I couldn’t have been a good kid. I must have really been awful. I always figured that. But Felipe’s a good kid. So now I’m wondering - Felix, you know, I’m just kind of wondering if -”

Sylvain dropped his head, resting his forehead on the carpet, and breathed. Felix silently lay next to him. He watched Cat Byleth cuddle up around the baby, lying half on top of him with a paw stretched over his chest. Felipe was clearly already growing sleepy. Comfortable, safe, and warm - emotions only Byleth could make children feel. Only Byleth and mothers.

Even in those dark days, as evil surrounded them and their leader lost his sanity. When Byleth stoked a fire in their classroom’s hearth and they spread their cots around the flames, Felix had felt warm. When they had stayed up late into the night talking and exchanging secrets, Felix had felt safe. As the wind whistled outside of the impenetrable stone walls, Annette’s head pillowed on his chest or Sylvain’s leg entwined with his - even Felix had felt comfortable. Even in those horrible days…

Felix didn’t say anything. He wasn’t Byleth. He didn’t understand, and he never could. Felix was the loved product of a loving couple. Losing Mother had felt like the Goddess reached into his chest and ripped his heart out. It wasn’t a wound he was born with. He had no wisdom or insight for this. In the end, Felix could only say the truth.

“You could ask her, you know. She’s probably still alive.”

Sylvain lifted his head, exhaling heavily. He rested his chin on the heel of his hand, watching the baby slowly lull himself to sleep. “Nah. It’s alright. That’s not really the point, you know?” Despite everything, Felix did know. Sylvain could see that. “Man. Remember the literal nightmares I used to have as a kid about getting babytrapped?”

Felix grimaced. “I remember when you woke me up asking if we had a kid.”

Sylvain ignored him, as he often did. “In my nightmares, I was always so disgusted looking at that baby. Holding it would make my skin crawl. But I don’t feel that at all looking at him now. Do you think it’s because he’s Mercie’s?”

“Who knows.” Felix had the feeling it was more because Felipe was the product of that loving and happy union, but this wasn’t his business. “So are you over your babyphobia now? Ready to be a dad?” Sylvain flinched hard. “That answers that question.”

Felipe’s little hands kneaded Byleth’s coat in his sleep. Byleth blinked slowly and sleepily - refusing to sleep while there was a child to watch out for.

“I still get so uncomfortable just looking at him.” Despite his words, Sylvain didn’t look away from Cat Byleth and Felipe. “I can’t help it. That disgust…it’s not just the stuff of nightmares, Felix. I do feel it. I just didn’t know I would be disgusted with myself.”

“You know the best way to fix that, right?” Felix raised an eyebrow, and Sylvain awkwardly looked away from him. “Cowardice? In a Blue Lion? In front of Lady Byleth herself?”

Lady Byleth meowed. They both ignored her.

“There’s never a reason to be afraid. Not so long as we’re here.” Felix reached out and gently elbowed Sylvain, hoping his elbows were as bony as his compatriots’. “Rule Three. Whatever help you need, we’ll give it. None of us fight alone. Felipe’ll have all of us. That simple enough for you?”

Sylvain sighed. “Knew I’d finally get you to say something useful.” He dodged Felix’s mock swing. “I know it, alright? Trust me, I’m already grateful. Dedue’s putting a lot of work into raising him too. I’m glad he has a male figure around.” Felix tsk’d. “Saints, you still don’t like Dedue?”

“He’s always been bad for Dimitri.” Sylvain opened his mouth, and Felix waved him off. “But Dimitri’s worse off without him, so I’ll deal. At least now we know Dimitri definitely wants kids. Not that we needed the confirmation.”

“He’s had their names picked out since he was seventeen,” Sylvain said, dead-eyed. Goddess, the guy was so fucking cringe. His daydreams about the Dimitri-Byleth idyllic perfect children were well-entrenched. But Sylvain hesitated a beat anyway, and Felix found himself sobering too. “If I tell you something, will you - uh, not tell anybody I said it?”

“I’ll do my best,” Felix panned, “but I don’t know how we’ll stop Felipe from tattling.”

“Very funny.” Sylvain picked at a cuticle, expression tight. After a few long moments, he finally said, “Do you think Dimitri’s really fit to be a parent?”

That was a question worth its weight in gold.

But it was also a pretty useless one. Dimitri was having kids. His family hadn’t been very large to begin with, and Cordelia had executed even his most distant cousins. If Dimitri didn’t have kids, it might be the extinction of his legal bloodline. Losing a crest as powerful as Dimitri’s was no joke, and Dimitri had a strong sense of royal duties.

There was another question, one that Felix knew for a fact Dimitri worried about - if his children would inherit his illness. It was possible. They had hopes that Byleth’s fresh, good, and completely unrelated genes would reduce risk. Felix knew it had almost been enough to stop Dimitri from having the children at all. But Dimitri really did want those kids. He wanted it more than anything: that happily ever after. Finding that family lost.

But Sylvain hadn’t asked if Dimitri would be having kids, or even if he should. He was wondering if Dimitri’s illness made him capable of being a parent at all. It was a stupid question too - maybe even stupider than the last. Sylvain never learned a thing.

“Maybe not if he was doing it on his own,” Felix said bluntly. “But they’ll have two parents, idiot. And all of us. When Dimitri’s capable, he’ll be great. And when he’s not, Byleth and us will be here. What are you worrying about such useless things for? Get real problems.”

And Sylvain just laughed. For a brief second, his faint wrinkles smoothed out, and he looked like the smartest and stupidest man alive again. “Man, we’re fucked up. It takes all of us combined to maybe competently raise only a slightly fucked up kid. Felipe and the future prince don’t stand a chance.”

“Don’t forget Annie’s spawn,” Felix panned. “We’ll have to throw in the towel then.”

“Nah, your kid’ll be fine. They’ll just have to learn how to be mean back.”

“What about Ingrid’s? We know what she’s like as a mother.” Left unsaid: she’d been mothering them all for years. Horrific.

Sylvain shivered. “Yeah, those ones will need our help.”

“As if we don’t have enough work to do.”

Cat Byleth yawned. She finally gave up the ghost and closed her eyes, resting her chin on the gently slumbering Felipe’s chest. Sylvain and Felix kept watch over them as they both slept, and they even stayed long after Felipe woke up crying from unknown nightmares.

***

Felix stood in front of a wooden door.

He stood in the abandoned hallway with the exhausted Sylvain, the stoic Dedue, and the antsy Balad. Felix didn’t know why they had to fucking wait outside while the girls and Dimitri got to stay inside. Something about how Lady Byleth would probably wake up without any clothes. Fucking so? They’d all seen each other naked.

Granted, nobody liked seeing Lady Byleth naked…and she was, objectively, the Queen of Faerghus…fine, whatever. So Felix would stand outside like she was already having her baby. Poor Balad was clearly wondering how they hadn’t caught him out and sent him back to his chores by now.

Sylvain scowled, taking a look at his pocketwatch for the fifth time. “It’s been an hour. That’s twice as long as Mercie said it would take.”

“It’s advanced magic,” Dedue said simply. “Give it time.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“And yet my answer remains the same.”

“But I’m bored!” Sylvain groaned. “I have so much work to do, I can’t stand around here forever -”

“I see where Felipe gets it from.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Felix looked down at Balad, who had been the picture of patience for an hour. “Don’t grow up like them.”

Balad blinked up at him, eyes wide and guileless. Please. Servants were the sneakiest people alive. Teenagers were even worse. “I can’t see how I would, my lord.”

Fair. Very fair.

Before Sylvain could begin to protest the unfair treatment, green light flashed underneath the door. Felix’s eardrums popped, and an acrid smell hit his nostrils. Dedue made a face, and Sylvain obnoxiously coughed. Balad pinched his nose shut, but he looked up at Felix in abject excitement.

“Did it work? Was that the counter-spell?”

Excited noises sounded from behind the door, and after a second Felix heard a familiar and welcome husky tone. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but grin.

“Yes on both counts, I believe.”

After five more agonizing minutes, the door opened. Byleth stood at the door, dressed in her exercise clothing of a simple shirt and trousers, blinking owlishly at the assembly behind the door.

She was herself, as she ever was - mint-green hair and eyes, big eyes and placid expression, short stature standing tall. Still the youngest of them all at only twenty four, her air was still indescribably old. All things told - very much like a cat.

Almost simultaneously, all three men bowed at her.

“Greetings to Your Grace from our esteemed houses,” Sylvain said crisply, speaking for all of them. Dedue’s house wasn’t esteemed at all, but he slid into the greeting with his honorary baronage. “It’s a pleasure to see you well, Queen Byleth.”

Queen Byleth, Saintess of the Church of Seiros, Queen of Faerghus-and-kinda-Fodlan, Professor of the House of Blue Lions, blinked at them.

Finally, her esteemed royal and holy personage said, “...a cat?”

Stoically, Sylvain said, “Yes, Your Grace.”

“...why?”

“I’m the wrong person to ask.”

Byleth slowly turned around, looking at the women assembled behind her. Dimitri hovered near the back of the pack, looking anxious.

At her gimlet eyes, the women hurriedly curtsied or bowed. They had probably been too busy with the check-ups and trousers to remember. Or, judging by Annette’s unusual efforts to lead the pack, were skirting responsibility.

“May the Goddess’ blessing shine upon Your Grace,” Mercedes said smoothly. “I had nothing to do with you turning into a cat.”

“Greetings to Your Grace from House Fraldarius,” Annette said hurriedly. “House Fraldarius is willing to admit that perhaps -”

“Hey,” Felix said, “don’t drag me into this.”

“ - two people were being irresponsible. Together. As a team.”

“For a month?” Byleth said.

“As friends, even.”

“Your Grace!” Dimitri quickly weaseled his way through the crowd of women. He stopped in front of Byleth and bowed hurriedly, almost instinctively. “Greetings to Your Grace by His Majesty of Faerghus.”

Sylvain groaned, clapping a hand over his eyes. “You outrank her -”

Dimtiri didn’t give a shit. “Are you sure you’re alright? Shouldn’t you sit down, my lady? You’ve had a large turn. Perhaps you ought to rest.”

“I feel quite well-rested.” Byleth patted Dimitri’s hand in thoughtful consideration. Dimitri made the most desolate kicked puppy expression. Byleth just turned back to the assembly, scrutinizing the line-up before breaking into a large smile. Well, it was a large smile for Byleth - to people who didn’t know her, it seemed like nothing else but a curl of the lips. “Dedue. Welcome back to Faerghus.”

Dedue bowed again. He was the only one who maintained the formalities beyond the first few seconds. “It was a pleasure to return, Your Grace.”

Then Byleth’s gaze swiveled down to Balad. He stiffened, hurriedly bowing again and locking his eyes on the floor. She stepped forward and scrutinized him closely, holding her thumb to her chin. Did she recognize him? How much did she remember of the past month, anyway? With the benefit of long experience, Felix instantly knew that he wasn’t about to find out. Byleth never put any of her cards in play.

“Straighten up.”

Balad straightened, keeping his eyes fixed to the floor.

“Chin up too. Widen your stance a little.” Byleth unabashedly nudged him a little, and he awkwardly widened his stance. Balad looked ready to faint from fear, but Byleth either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She just hummed, looking him up and down closely. After a few heart-pounding seconds, she finally straightened and said, “There’s potential. Tomorrow morning, 0500 hours. Training hall. Don’t be late.”

“Oh, Goddess,” Annette said, “this poor kid.”

“That’s some reward for the boy’s help this month,” Mercedes said reproachfully.

“Do you remember him?” Sylvain asked urgently. “Your Grace, I asked this boy to keep an eye on you for the past month. Did you -”

“I remember enough,” Byleth said mysteriously. Great. That could mean anything. “0500 hours. Don’t be late.”

Balad hurriedly bowed again, face flaming red. “Yes, Your Grace!”

Felix crossed his arms. “Do you have time for another victim, Lady Byleth?”

But Byleth just looked at him, eyes glinting. “I don’t know, Felix,” Byleth said, “do I have time to be a cat for a month?”

Felix stared at her, unrepentant. Byleth stared at him, a focused assault.

Finally, Byleth said, “Join me in Annette’s office, Felix.”

Everybody paled, even Balad. Felix narrowed his eyes.

Dimitri, relentlessly hovering around Byleth’s elbow, was almost wringing his hands. “Your Grace, let’s discuss this before you make any decisions.”

“His Majesty already said that he doesn’t intend to punish House Fraldarius,” Mercedes piped up, a little anxiously. “Are you mad at them, Your Grace?”

Annette’s face fell tragically. “Lady Byleth, I really am sorry…it was just an accident.”

“Felix knows what he did,” Byleth said mysteriously. She pointed inside the room. “Office. Now.”

Felix shrugged and entered the office as the women were shepherded fully outside. Annette looked strongly as if she wanted to speak with Felix and/or plan an escape route, but Felix just waved her off.

Byleth closed the door resolutely behind her, letting it latch with a final click. Felix stood in the center of the room at loose attention, eyeing Byleth carefully. Byleth stood in front of him, arms folded and eyes sharp.

They stared each other down for several long seconds - not so much a battle of wills as a mutual challenge. Byleth silently inquired if Felix wanted to defend himself first. Felix knew better than to self-incriminate.

Finally, Byleth said, “You wrote me a thesis on animal transfiguration in school.”

“That I did.”

“It was good.”

“Thank you.”

“Very good.”

“I know,” Felix said. “It was how I knew ordinary humans can’t turn into cats.”

“I’m out of the ordinary,” the vessel of the Goddess said, straight faced.

“Hence turning into a cat.”

“Your thesis included a proof on unwinding animal transfigurations.” Byleth’s piercing stare could have put a hole in Felix’s head. “Annette hit me with a modified Reason spell. You could have undid the transformation at any time.”

“Please,” Felix said, “don’t flatter me. It would have taken a week.”

Slowly and carefully, Byleth said, “Felix. Did you let me stay a cat for a month?”

Completely unrepentantly, Felix said, “Yup.”

“Why.”

“You needed the break.”

Byleth stared blankly at Felix.

Felix just shrugged. “What? You were having fun, and it’s impossible to make you relax. Figured I’d take advantage of the opportunity.”

“Why didn’t you volunteer to undo the spell at all?” Byleth asked. “You could have artificially extended the time needed to cure me.”

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get Sylvain and his wife and kid in the same room?”

Byleth pinched the bridge of her nose. Felix felt no shame.

Finally, she announced, “You were my most troublesome student.”

“And now I’m your most troublesome subject,” Felix said serenely. “Isn’t it funny how life works out?”

“I should tell His Majesty.”

“You won’t snitch.”

Too high a likelihood that Dimitri would actually grow angry. And, obviously, Byleth wasn’t actually mad at all. Byleth had a fantastic time being a cat. It had been the time of her fucking life.

She wouldn’t admit it. Felix knew. Byleth knew that Felix knew. They would take this mutual secret to their graves. She was undoubtedly already wishing she could return to chasing mice. Felix had her number.

Byleth sighed, nodding at the door. “You’re dismissed. I’m assigning you an unpleasant task later.”

Straight faced, Felix said, “But Your Grace. I already co-chair committees with Sylvain.”

Byleth pointedly walked over and opened the door for him. Dimitri was hovering right outside the door, apart from the other Blue Lions relentlessly gossiping. Everybody’s eyes snapped to Felix and Byleth instantly, assessing the situation.

Everybody noticed in unison that Felix was looking rather smug. Annette breathed a sigh of relief.

“Don’t worry about it,” Byleth announced, guaranteeing that everybody would worry about it. “Dimitri. Would you like to debrief?”

Somewhat maniacally, Dimitri said, “Byleth, please consider that I have not seen my wife in almost a month.”

Byleth paused, thinking hard. “Hm. Correct.” After a second’s thought, an answer came to her. “Oh!”

“You understand.” Dimitri grabbed her hand, already pulling her along. “Now, if you’re amenable -”

“Certainly.”

“Excellent. Everybody in this castle is forbidden from bothering us until we return.”

Byleth hurriedly pointed at Balad. “Make that 0800 hours.”

“Ah - yes, my lady!”

Dimitri and Byleth exited stage left. Very hurriedly.

Ingrid sighed, folding her arms. “I miss Ashe.”

“Ah,” Dedue said, “young love.”

Mercedes arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you the expert, Dedue?”

“In those two? Yes.”

Meanwhile, Annette pushed her way through the crowd and grabbed Felix by the sleeve. She unceremoniously tugged him out of earshot of everybody else, pulling down on his sleeve and making him bend down so she could whisper directly into his ear.

“What the hell did you do?” Annette hissed. “Why is Byleth mad at you?”

“Can’t say,” Felix said solemnly. “We swore each other to secrecy.”

“You damned good-for-nothing husband, I swear if you went and made things worse -”

“Hark! What is that I see in yonder distance? A young woman in a glass home? What is she holding? That couldn’t possibly be a stone -”

“I have been stressing the past month, and if you had any information that might have reduced that stress -”

“But you got an extension on all of your deadlines!” Felix added cheerfully. Please. Stress. She had been waiting for Mercedes to come and fix it. She had been busy the past month catching up on all of her work, not just the Cat Byleth situation. “Now all of your papers are written, your work’s completed, your best friend’s here, and the Queen of Faerghus isn’t a cat anymore. Round win in my book.”

“That’s not - did you have something to do with this?”

“I had absolutely nothing to do with any of this.” That was extremely true. A little too true, but definitely true. In a technicality.

Annette’s eyes narrowed. “That sounds like a technicality.”

And, bizarrely - beautifully - Felix could only lean in and kiss his wife. She immediately kissed him back - it had been a while for them too - and they joined together for a long handful of valuable seconds before they finally separated.

Felix kept her in his arms, relaxing into the feeling of her warm weight. Hopefully the others were too busy bickering amongst themselves. They were way too old for ridiculous PDA like this. He kept his voice low, secluding words away just for the two of them. “Maybe you should take a break too. Let’s take a week off. Just don’t do shit, you and me.”

“Felix!” Annette lightly batted him on the shoulder, but she didn’t pull away. “I’m behind enough as it is already!”

“You’re always behind! I’m always behind, we’re always busy - so what?” Somehow, for some weird reason Felix couldn’t quite explain, at that moment saying these words to Annette felt like the most important thing in the world. “We were too busy during the war and we were too busy before it. Who cares? I just want time with you.”

“You’ll get time when I retire from my royal magician position in five years,” Annette scolded. “We’ll both move back to your home and settle down then, remember? It’s in the timetable?”

So it was. As Felipe had been in the timetable, and never in Sylvain’s life. As taking care of Dimitri was worked into every day, and they had glossed over actually trusting him. Ashe had been in Brigid for months, and Ingrid hadn’t so much as opened her mouth to complain - accustomed to it as a wartime necessity, with no time to stop and remember that the war was over. Only a summons from the king brought Mercedes across the country to even see her husband again. Even Dedue, returning just to reunite and reconnect, had to remind the nearest Duscuran child that he was never allowed to relax, to lose composure and dignity - the same composure and dignity that Dedue maintained at every moment, without fault or slip. The only break any of them had taken in the past month was completely involuntary, and it had involved turning into a cat. Yes, Felix was completely unrepentant.

“Annie,” Felix said, and for a moment he let her see the exhaustion in himself too, “are we going to live the rest of our lives like this?”

Were the Blue Lions going to end as they began - pushed to the brink by fear and desperation, and only pushed further as danger encroached around every corner? Would they live now as they had always lived - leaders and combatants in a war for their lives, no expenses spared just to live? Struggling to take care of Dimitri as Dimitri struggled to take care of them, looking to their old teacher for guidance and floundering when left without her?

Annette was quiet for a long minute. She wasn’t used to seeing that look in his face. Felix didn’t show his heart very frequently, even to her. Maybe that was the weight he still carried.

Finally, she said, “Maybe a quick break.”

Felix’s smile resurfaced on his face, and he knew it was a lot looser. “A week?”

“A whole week? What would we even do?”

“Whatever we want, maybe.” Felix paused a beat. “His and Her Majesties have the right idea.”

Annette giggled, resting her forehead on the chest. “Wanna invite -”

“Ah, I hear new parents have no time for that sort of thing.”

“Maybe they can take a break too.”

“Maybe we’ll all take a break,” Annette said, rolling her eyes. “We’ll let the continent of Fodlan grind to a halt because a group of friends are exhausted and horny. That’s the work of responsible nobility.”

Felix wanted to be the best parent in the world. He wanted to be the best father who ever lived. He wanted to be a father who made Annette cry in relief, because she would never worry if he would abandon her and his children. She wouldn’t even think of it. Blue Lions or not, important titles and distinguished peerage or not - Felix would make her worries disappear. Even their ghosts wouldn’t exist in her life, or the lives of their children.

It had to start now. He still had to whip everybody else into shape too.

“It’s always been us versus the world.” For better or for worse - but that described a great deal. “Let’s let the world take care of itself for a little while.”

If Annette had any arguments, she chose to kiss him instead of making them. Which was about as good as no arguments at all.

#my writing #fe3h #fire emblem three houses

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