#why not go to battle arm in arm.... huh??? say sylvain?

[yasmeensh]

Giving Sylvain the boost of motivation he needs (for the sake of the battle going well of course)

#fe3h #fire emblem three houses #blue lions #sylvain jose gautier #byleth eisner #f byleth #I actually felt really bad for him sjdgskdj #he looked so sad and then he sounded really happy when he suggested we go together after the war #why not go to battle arm in arm.... huh??? say sylvain? #sorry dimitri but Sylvain NEEDS this #I am actually so torn between choosing dimitri or sylvain for S support aaaaa #I love them both

[fuwahua]

hewwo hewwo! may i please request lee!felix ler!sylveon with hips as the spot for the ask game? thanks <3~

HEWWO thank you for your patience!! This took longer than expected bc I cannot write 3 sentence drabble actually ヽ(；▽；)ノ please take this fic!

WC: 1.7k

Summary: Sylvain stumbles upon Felix training his Saturday away and decided to distract him. Totally doesn’t have any other ulterior motives other than friendly bromance, nope!

“Huh! Hah! H-aaurgh!”

“My, such a hard worker. Say, do you come here often?”

“Shut it. If you’re not here to train, don’t distract me.”

Wow, such hurtful words… if Sylvain were twelve. The redhead crossed his hands over his heart as he dramatically stumbled back, moaning in fake pain. “Felix, you wound me!”

“Good.”

Sheesh. Sylvain rolled his eyes behind his back, knowing full well that Felix would know, and just as expected there was that familiar “tch” noise from his classmate. Even so, Felix didn’t even spare him a glance as he returned to his practice and took up half the practice grounds with his setup alone.

Not that it mattered. It was a Saturday and this side of the Academy wasn’t exactly in high demand when classes were out—why would they be, when students can flock to the marketplace, study away in the library, or do, literally, anything else other than train their already sore muscles? Sylvain himself was raring to go for a hot Saturday night out when he was crossing the training grounds but then he’d seen Felix and. Well.

There was nothing that needed to be said about a lone figure training on a weekend. A little sad, in his (not) professional opinion. What kind of friend would he be if he just left his dearest childhood friend alone?

A bad one, of course. That was it: a desire to be a good friend and help out during Felix’s obviously struggling loneself. Totally nothing other than that. Nope! It wasn’t like Sylvain enjoyed the calm moments that stretched between the two in the classroom, when Felix was less pressed about glaring at everything that moved and stared diligently at Byleth with something that he could almost call respect. He certainly didn’t linger on the moments when they stood back to back together during the Battle of Eagle and Lion, feeling Felix’s warmth from where their arms had pressed together.

Definitely, absolutely, did not enjoy watching Felix’s hair flutter just slightly in the wind or the way his words came out tinged with an edge promising violence.

“Are you going to train or just stare at me forever?”

“Aww, Fe-Fe—”

“Don’t call me that.”

Sylvain’s jaw clicked as he offered Felix a lazy smile instead of replying. Felix’s brow twitched, turning back to his invisible enemy. Strike, strike, strike.

“I’m serious. Pick up a spear or leave.”

“I pick leave! Let’s go out to town together!”

“Don’t make me hit you.”

So rude. Sylvain tutted, though he remained where he was. It wasn’t like Felix would actually toss him out; they’d done this song and dance enough times for him to know what Felix actually looked like when he was furious. Shoulders raised, fist clenching, bloody nails—the whole shebang.

His shoulders were down now, almost relaxed with every practiced motion. Tempered breathing, easy and calm, and a smooth, beautiful series of steps as left crossed right and vice-versa, following a roadmap drilled into them. Felix, as always, executed it beautifully.

It was just too tempting to mess with him.

“Oh? Are you finally ready to—S-Syvlain! Stahahap!”

“Stop what? Didn’t you want some hand-to-hand practice?”

“Ehehe, this ishihin’t practice!”

“Really? News to me…” Sylvain grinned as his hands trailed along Felix’s sides, chuckling at the way his friend’s cackles grew in response. The wooden sword slipped from his fingers as Felix tried to pry his hands off, shaking his head between sputtered protests.

“Nahaha, Sylvahahain!”

Felix’s leg kicked out at him warningly but the threat wasn’t exactly effective coupled with the boyish smile that bloomed on his face and spread from rosy cheek to cheek. His brows were scrunched up as he slapped Sylvain’s arms, head tossed back onto his shoulder. Their height difference was easier to take advantage of this close and Sylvain took full advantage to blow against Felix’s ear just to see him jolt. “You called?”

“I didihiihihiHIN’T! FU–HAHAHACK OFF!”

Talk about loud. Sylvain’s hands tightened around Felix’s sides, earning a squeak, as he quickly ducked his head to glance at both sides. It didn’t look like anyone was running to the training grounds after Felix’s loud laughter: well, it was Saturday. He could, maybe, possibly just mess with Felix all day if he wanted to.

(An evil thought, if he were in Felix’s position. But who could resist turning grumpy Felix’s frown upside-down? The Professor wouldn’t be too mad, surely…)

It’d been years since he last had the chance to mess with Felix like this; not since they were kids. Even so, it was like muscle memory. He knew Felix liked a lighter touch along his sides but threw his head back in full belly laughs when his ribs were kneaded. His tummy was weak, but only in the upper half where it was easy for Sylvain to fold him over and tease the area. His knees were equally weak, though harder to reach, and Felix was a kicker in the true sense of the word.

It was kinda nice to see, despite all his moodiness, Felix was still just as ticklish as he was all those years ago.

“Doesn’t this bring you back?”

“SHUHUHUT IT!”

Sylvain hummed as Felix managed to grab onto one of his hands, prying it away from his side with a triumphant gasp, only to break into shaky giggles when his other hand skirted up to his underarms. Felix gave up immediately with a shriek that only redoubled when the distraction gave Sylvain the chance to grab his other wrist, holding them together with his one hand.

Which left his other hand the chance to explore. It was something they both realized at once, twin smiles on both faces: one nervous, one dangerous.

Felix swallowed. His eyes darted from his captured wrists, Sylvain’s free hand, and then his face in quick succession. “S-Sylvain… this ehehe is… your o-only warning…!”

“I better take that warning seriously, huh?”

“What do you—Ugh, nohohoHOHO! DoHOHON’T—NAHAA!”

Felix shrieked as his flailing redoubled, eyes squeezing shut when giggles escaped from clenched teeth. He lasted about two seconds before buckling, squirming where Sylvain’s right hand was rubbing small circles against the divot of his hips. It’d been a weak point of his since they were kids and it brought Sylvain great pleasure to see that it hadn’t changed.

Especially because weak point here actually meant weak: anywhere else was a threat of a kick or fist to the face. Glenn had favored tackling Felix and bringing him to his knees with giggly tears with his hips and Sylvain evidently had learned to do the same.

Felix had gotten a lot heavier since then though. Sylvain strained to hold him up properly once he leant entirely back, unable to hold himself up between giggles. Clearly Felix’s training had paid off in muscles (Sylvain’s lack of not-so-much) and Sylvain’s grip tightened on his hip as he brought them both slowly to the ground.

“Nahahahaha moore! SylvAHAHAIn!”

“I don’t know, I’m enjoying myself right now…”

“I CahahaHAHAHN’T! PLEAHAHASE!” Felix’s face was entirely red now, flushed from ear to ear, as his protests died into breathless laughter. His whole body shook with it, voice tinged with desperation, and Sylvain took a moment to stare at his face, the bob of his throat between ragged gasps, and acquiesced.

“Alright, alright. Just because you’re begging, Fe-Fe.”

The moment he let go, Felix’s hands darted away to rub at his hip as though soothing the lingering ghost tingles. He watched with a chuckle, raising his hands up in surrender when Felix’s eyes immediately darted to him at the sound, promising violence. He even scooted away for extra measure!

Felix’s chest heaved to take in proper air now that the tickling had stopped, wiping at the sweat that had gathered on his face in his struggle. The tremble of his body slowed as his shoulders sagged in exhaustion, rubbing at the knot of his hair and pulling at the base of his ponytail, grimacing as his fingers came away sweaty. Even so, the tickling-induced flush of his cheeks hadn’t faded yet and the way he glanced up at Sylvain with the lingering smile on his face was…

It was a little mesmerizing, he could admit.

“You’re staring.”

Sylvain jolted, though the words weren’t any different from the ones preceding it. If anything, they were less rude. Even so, he couldn’t help the tinge of red coloring his cheeks, and worse than that, knew that Felix wouldn’t even notice. “You already said that earlier.”

“Because you were,” Felix huffed. His breathing seemed to have evened out and he pulled himself upright, crossing his arms as he returned Sylvain’s stare with one of his own. “You’ve been staring more than usual.”

“Yeah, well…” Nothing to say to that. He huffed instead, turning his gaze to the flowerbeds decorating the side of the grounds. Pretty things. He just happened to like pretty things.

And if his gaze liked to wander back to Felix, well, it was out of an appreciation for the arts. He was a noble—couldn’t exactly help treasuring rare things. A soft, smiling Felix had to count for both.

Especially when said Felix was smiling at him.

“Come on.”

Sylvain blinked as a hand emerged in front of his face. In the moment of thought, Felix had gotten up and now had a hand outstretched to him. His mouth parted as Felix’s brow twitched. “Come on. Get up.”

“Uh, are we going to train?”

“What are you—stupid? No, don’t answer that.” Felix shook his head, sighing. “Didn’t you say you wanted to go to town together?”

Oh. He did say that, didn’t he? Sylvain hadn’t thought Felix had been paying attention, nor that he’d actually want to, when every attempt to invite Felix out in the past had been shot down with a quick and brutal rejection.

Yet no matter how much he blinked, the Felix waiting for him didn’t flicker. When he took Felix’s hand, the other was sturdy in his stance as he pulled Sylvain up. And when his hand lingered, eyes on the way their fingers joined, well…

Felix’s hand squeezed around his with a chuckle. A real one, something of a rumble that rose from his chest and slipped past parted lips; when he tugged forward, Sylvain followed. “Come on, Sylvie. Let’s go.”

Sylvain stared and resolutely, absolutely, did not acknowledge the way his heart thudded in his chest.

(Fuck.)

#fe3h #sylvix #sylvain jose gautier #felix fraldarius #tickling #my fic #apologies for the delay #i hope you like the fic!!!! #the other 3 sentence prompts will also get 1k fics actually #ill try to finish those within the next month!

[the-elusive-libbin]

The Hungry Boar Prince - Hunger fic

Dimitri, Felix and Sylvain set up camp after a battle but can they get any sleep with the prince’s grumbling belly? Contains slightly painful hunger, tummy rubs and sweetness between the three boys. Lighthearted and SFW with blushing and hungry grumbles ^_^ Enjoy~ ************************************************************************************

What is the meaning of war? There are hundreds of possible answers depending on who it was that you asked. This skirmish that had occurred today was a minor one, a small-scale battle and though true enough not a war, it had been exhausting nonetheless. The clanging of steel meeting steel and the ‘whoosh’ of tightly pulled bow strings that supported arrows as they released had long since faded with time. A few hours had passed since the battle’s end and three of its participants had gotten themselves in quite a predicament. The battle, for these three at least, had been won and a celebration was becoming largely overdue; yet the three found themselves not in celebration but in mutual disagreement. Each wanted something different and so bickering had occurred. The warriors were not lost but were hindered and it would take a while to return to the monastery. 

Sylvain, the red haired lancer was all in agreement for stopping and resting but first wanted to go back to the battlefield to procure his horse that was lost in the skirmish, doing so would allow him to run off ahead or at least use the animal to carry what little provisions they owned; there was no way a single horse of that size would carry the weight of the three men however. Felix, the most agile and equally most argumentative, wanted to carry on straight to their destination and get the trip over and done with, he did not want to waste his time waiting around. Dimitri, the wayward prince, had thought it through and as the leader had decided that the tree should make camp and rest, revitalise their energy and travel back to the monastery by foot the next day. What good were they to be if they carried on straight with no energy? They may collapse. Thinking it best to not go back for the horses either, Dimitri relayed his opinion and ended up getting the other two to agree, one more reluctantly than the other of course. 

So it was that Dimitri, Sylvain and Felix created an encampment in a small, hollowed out cave (if you could even call it that. It was not very deep) and started a controlled fire for warmth in preparation for nightfall that was encroaching at a slightly more vigorous pace than they had expected. Time had flown by, their exhaustion taking a hold and making them much more subdued and sluggish as they moved. Soon the three had rolled out their bed rolls that had miraculously survived the skirmish on the back of Sylvain’s horse which had coincidentally fled from the battlefield after being hit and found its way back to its master, much to the red headed flirt’s joy, and prepared to settle in for the night. They had found warmth, a horse and shelter. That was the good news. The bad news? The knight’s provisions were lost and the other members of their group would be halfway back to the monastery by now with their own food and water rations. They would have to go hungry.

“Ahhh~ I’m beat. That was tougher than we thought it was going to be huh?” Sylvain flopped backwards onto his bed roll, his hands behind his head as Dimitri took the centre mat to his right and Felix took the last roll the other side of the prince, lying down and immediately turning to face away, shunning out his two companions. He would rather squeeze his eyes closed and try to sleep, avoiding the pair’s rambling, uninteresting conversations. “It was.” Dimitri sighed in response. “We won and luckily, with very few casualties. But that does not mean we are out of the woods yet, we will need to think up a new strategy for next time. I believe I speak for all of us when I say that I have no energy left.” “Yeah, we really exerted ourselves.” “Hmph. Speak for yourselves, I’ve still got energy to carry on.” Felix gave his input with a scoff and a snide tone. “Oh yeah?~ What are you going to prove that Felix? Go run back to the monastery and grab us some food will ya.” Winked the older male. “Tsk! Shut up, you know I can’t do that.” “Awh why? Too tired? Too hungry?” “Will yo-” “That is enough. Felix we all need to conserve what little energy we have. Let us sleep so that we may return home early.” Dimitri interrupted, he did not want his comrades wasting valuable energy and frankly did not want to have to deal with their bickering throughout the night. “Whatever you say your highness.” Sylvain smiled and with a yawn, closed his eyes. “Whatever…” Mumbled the swordsman as he wrapped his arms around himself and subconsciously backed up closer to the prince for warmth just as he used to when the three were younger. Dimitri himself had lay down, resting a hand atop his stomach. It felt unusual, as though something was stirring up inside, waiting to come out. He opted to ignore the feeling for now and eventually the three men managed to drift off. There was no way to tell how long the men had been asleep, aside from the placement of stars as they threw light upon the land in a cloudless, night sky. *Grrrruggllglgggllllle* The prince’s eye shot open. What was that? He checked to his left. Sylvain, snoring gently, inoffensively. Checked his right, Felix, breathing so softly it was barely audible. Both asleep. So then what was...? “Urk!” Dimitri winced and clutched at his middle as it cramped up. It was that feeling from before but way more intense and a lot more painful. The knotting feeling twisted and turned in his stomach making him feel slightly nauseous and if not a little hot. His stomach ached and would not cease in its flipping. He had felt this before and slowly but surely the prince began to realize what was occurring. He was famished. All of his energy had depleted and to make matters worse, Dimitri had an incredibly fast working metabolism with a rather demanding stomach to support his innate strength. By the goddess he was hungry. Pressure was building and the prince knew that he would not be able to quell what was to come. ‘Please.’ He thought. ‘Please do not…’ He mentally begged his stomach and he wrapped his arms around it tightly, feeling that pressure building up, about to release. He fidgeted. ‘I-I cannot hold it.’ His single eye widened as the pressure released and his stomach let out a deep, guttural, roar.

*GGGRRRRRROOOOOOOOAAAAARRRRRRRRRgggggglllll*

Dimitri flinched, unable to stop the groan that he could feel erupting from his poor, empty tummy. Patting and rubbing at his midsection didn’t even come close to stiling the offending sound. He could feel the heat of embarrassment rising, burning his cheeks and ears and sending his face into a hot flush. There was nothing he could do but wait for the noise to peter out and hope the other two didn’t hear. There was no way they didn’t hear. Sylvain’s eyes shot open and he bolted upright immediately, looking around for the source of the noise. Felix awoke of course and had gripped the armorslayer close to his chest but lay still, waiting to slay whatever beast should sneak up on them. “Wha!? What!? What the heck was that?!” Sylvain panicked, wishing he hadn’t left his spear by the wall. He looked around. No sign of threat, his horse was mostly unperturbed but Felix and Dimitri seemed to be awake too. Did they also hear that noise? They must have! It was too loud not to! “You guys definitely heard that too right?” Felix loosened his grip on his sword and rolled over to face the other two. “Of course we did.” he sighed. “I can’t sense a threat but it sounded like a wild beast.” Dimitri remained quiet, he had long since wrapped his arm over his eyes, blushing madly. He was too embarrassed to say anything at this moment. “Well it had to have been something.” Felix continued. “Damn animal woke me up.” “Yeah woke me up too…” “Maybe it was a wild boar.” “What kind of boar have you heard that makes that kind of noise?” “An annoying one.”

*Grrrrrrgllll* 

An audible gurgle came from Dimitri’s belly and the prince moved his free hand to rest atop it without saying a word. Sylvain looked at the blonde male and processed the information. “Oh! I see~” He smirked at the sudden realisation. Felix raised an eyebrow at Sylvain and Dimitri flinched in place. “Awww man! I can’t believe it took us this long to figure it out! Hahaha!” laughed the red head. “What’s so funny?” “Felix, surely we’ve both known his highness long enough to know how his stomach works. You’re starving, isn’t that right Dimitri?” Sylvain winked as he looked at the prince, earning a gulp in return. “So then..” Felix’s mouth widened in shock. “That was his…” “I-it was my stomach.” Dimitri whimpered, finally managing to push through the initial embarrassment. “I apologise. I did not m-mean to wake you both. I could not stop it.” Sylvain was sure he could see the steam rising from the blonde’s head and honestly he felt a little bad for the poor prince but there was no way he could hold back his laughter. “Hahaha! I knew it, you always did have a powerful stomach.” “I-I cannot help it. I do not see what is so funny.” The prince pouted, taking his arm from his face and using it to hug his belly tightly. “I am famished.” The swordsman sighed and clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Seriously?! Your stomach woke us up? I’m going back to sleep. Keep the damn thing down.” “I am sorry Felix…” Dimitri sighed and the three tried to once again get some sleep. No luck. Dimitri’s belly had become more and more active by the minute. His stomach’s verbal complaints coupled with his pained moans and whimpers were ensuring that none of the three got any sleep that night. “God damn it! I told you to keep your damn stomach quiet Boar prince!” Felix yelled when he decidedly couldn’t cope with the increasingly loud noises anymore. “I c-cannot s-s-stop them.” The prince stuttered softly. Sylvain sighed. There was one thing he could do to try and help. He remembered back to a time where the three of them were younger. Dimitri always had problems like this. His father Lambert was much the same, no doubt he had inherited that trait. The red head recalled a time where King Lambert‘s stomach had once shook the plates and cutlery on his tablet at a banquet he held. He had laughed it off and made a joke of it but Dimitri had spent the entire afternoon trying to convince Ingrid, Sylvain and Felix that he could do the same after a young Felix (still with a glint in his eye and admiration for Dimitri) had asked if he could. Of course he couldn’t actually copy his father at the time but there was no doubt he probably could now. “Hmmmm...” Sylvain sat up and kneeled by the prince’s side. “Let me try something.” “W-what are you going to do? Surely you cannot believe that you could st-stop this incessant rumbling?” “I may be able to do just that.” The lancer reached his hand under Dimitri’s back and undid his metallic, abdominal armour plate much to the prince’s embarrassment and Felix’s disgust. He placed his hand upon Dimitri’s abdomen and slid it under his clothes. “W-what are you doing Sylvain!?” The prince shrieked in embarrassment. “Relax, I used to do this all the time, do you remember?” He could feel the deep, rumbling groans vibrate through the prince’s organs and muscle and on his own hand. Little tremors, an aftershock of an earthquake. After waiting a moment, Sylvain began to press, rubbing deep circles into Dimitri’s empty, concave stomach. “O-Oh my…” The prince flushed and threw a hand to his mouth in a feeble attempt to hide away. Sylvain chuckled. “See it’s helping right?” “Why are you doing something like that?” Felix scoffed. “It’s not appropriate.” “C’mon I can’t be the only one that remembers. When we were young we used to sneak out with Ingrid to go and look at the stars on the castle grounds when we visited. That one time Dimitri was starving, he missed a meal because he was training so hard and forgot. His belly wouldn’t stop grumbling so I massaged it like this to ease the pain. It worked and if I recall Felix, you asked me to do the same to you.” “I had..F-forgotten” Dimitri mumbled. “I did not!” Felix retorted.” “Yeah you did! You were like “Sylvain my tummy hurts, rub mine too!”” A blush shot to the swordsman’s cheeks as he remembered. It had happened. It had and it was wholly embarrassing. “Sh-shut up!” Felix blushed and once again lay away from the others. Sylvain and Dimitri both chuckled at that. The red head rubbed and kneaded the prince’s stomach as it gurgled and moaned, favouring two hands now instead of just the one. “Hush now, I know you’re empty. My belly is too.” Cooed the lancer to Dimitri’s stomach. “P-please do not talk to my stomach like it is a misbehaved child.” “It’s not misbehaving, just hungry and complaining a whole lot.”  “Even so..” A moment passed and Sylvain could feel some form of pressure in the prince’s stomach just under his ribs and began massaging that space too. “S-sylvain d-don’t” Dimitri moaned causing the other male to blush. Flustered, he pressed harder. “It’s s-sensitive there.” “Urk! D-don’t moan like that! People could get the wrong idea.” Second hand embarrassment set in and Sylvain massaged harder to snap himself out of it. “I can’t stop, I need to loosen this knot. I think that’s what’s causing the pain.” “B-but I..” “No buts just- Oh! I think i’ve got it!” “S-Sylvain No I-!”

*GRROOOOOAARARRRRRRRR!!!!!!*

The loudest groan yet erupted from the prince’s stomach as his friend loosened the knot in his belly. Dimitri and Sylvain both were too embarrassed to say anything for the moment. “......” “......” “W-wow…..” Gulped Sylvain. “I told you I thought I had it. Feeling better?” He asked with a smile, patting the belly before him, it still visibly shook from the aftershock of that monstrous groan. “Much….I….T-thank you…” Blushed the prince. It did indeed feel much better. Sylvain always did have the magic touch. It wouldn’t stop his stomach from moaning but it would keep it quiet and alleviate the pain. “No problem~ Though do wish we had some food to stuff ourselves with instead.” Dimitri’s mouth began to water at the thought of a feast and he retaliated by wiping away the saliva with his sleeve. It was best to not think of such things lest he set his stomach off groaning again. “Don’t talk about food.” Felix moaned, his eyes closed, arms wrapped around his belly. “Awh why? Are you hungry too Felix? Am I making your stomach growl?” Sylvain teased.

*Grrrruglee*

“Urk….” The swordsman flinched, his blush returning to his face, grateful for the fact he was facing away. “Haha! I knew it. Want me to rub your ‘tummy’ better too?” “G-get lost will you! Just go to sleep.” “Haha suit yourself~ I think we’ll do just that.” “Yes.” Dimitri agreed. “Sleep sounds good at this moment. Goodnight.” “G’night.” “.....hmph.” Perhaps it would be a restful night after all.

#F/ETH #D/imitri #S/ylvain #F/elix #Hunger #stomach growl #belly kink #tummy rubs #sfw fluff

[yukiwrites]

Now, and Forever

Thank you so much for the support as always, @breeachuu !! i can't believe this is really the end of Wolfie's adventures! ToT) Thank you for sticking with me for so long! I'll miss the goodest boyo...

Summary: The alarming news that arrived the night of Wolfram and Dimitri's wedding was just as unexpected. There were signs of a new war brewing in the horizon, so they had to take up arms one last time...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

__________________________

By the time Wolfram woke up from their first night as a married couple, the inner circle of the palace sat in disbelief at the conference room.

Wide-eyed, the half manakete tiptoed to his seat beside Dimitri’s, who had his head down under his laced hands. Sensing his husband, Dimitri lifted his face, showing the hardened expression.

“What’s going on?” Wolfie asked tentatively, glancing at the people in the room: Byleth, Seteth, Gilbert, Dedue, and most of their original classmates from the Blue Lions House sat around the table.

Byleth pointed to the letter that sat at the center of the round table. “This letter arrived during the night,” she explained, then lingered her gaze on Wolfie’s. “It’s from Hubert.”

“What?!” Wolfram gasped, jumping out of his seat to pick the letter up. “But he’s-”

“Dead, indeed. By my own hand.” Dimitri spoke in a deep voice. “Yet, it seems that he had that letter ready to be sent right as the war ended, though it was misplaced for a full year until it found its way to us.”

Gilbert sighed deeply. “According to the person who brought it, the original carrier was one of his coworkers at the palace. There was only a short letter attached to it, saying to take it to the winner of the war no matter what.”

“I wonder what happened to the person Hubert entrusted the letter to…” Annette fidgeted on her seat. “What if they got caught up in the battle and…” her voice trailed off as the outcome seemed obvious.

Wolfie’s pupils shook as he lowered the letter. “But if what he’s saying here is the truth… We’re on a really tight schedule, right? If this was supposed to be sent one year ago…”

Dimitri sighed beside his husband. “Indeed. We must set out to this Shambhala place with haste.”

“And the children of the goddess mentioned here…” Wolfram glanced at Seteth and Byleth, then back to the letter.

“Yes.” Byleth nodded, making all eyes turn to her. “After the goddess granted me her power, I started recovering her memories little by little, especially in these past few months. If any of you have any questions about this, I’ll probably be able to answer them; but my plan for the church in the future does include this knowledge…”

“It will be a drastic change to what’s been believed up until now, so it will require some time…” Seteth added with a hand on his chin.

“Well, at least that letter found us all in the same place, huh?” Annette tried to lighten up the mood. “If it had arrived any earlier or later, it would’ve taken a long time to gather everyone together again!”

“Annie, we’re here for the royal wedding…” Mercedes nudged her younger friend, giggling when she blushed and hid her face under her hands.

“Ah, um, sorry about that! Not saying that it’s good that we discovered a new enemy during your honeymoon or anything but- I’m-”

“Heehee, it’s okay, Annette! We’re fine.” Wolfram smiled brightly, dispersing some of the strained atmosphere of the room. “Besides, I also think it’s lucky.” He crossed his arms, smiling proudly. “My entire family is here, too, and boy can they fight! My Father’s been itching for a fight since a while ago so I’m sure they’ll all go with us, too.”

“Will that be alright? I wouldn’t want to drag them into another war…” Dimitri looked up with worry, though Wolfie replied by sitting back down and smiling.

“It’s okay. It’ll actually be harder to tell them not to come, nyahaha…”

“Half a dozen dragons fighting by our side… Now I almost pity those who slither in the dark.” Gilbert chuckled darkly. The thought of such a sight sent shivers down everyone’s spines; they couldn’t even fathom the amount of power they had by their side now.

“Well, I don’t.” Wolfram pouted, snapping his finger on top of the letter. “Do you think I should call Mother here? She might not know the whole situation here and stuff, but she is, like, almost three thousand years old…”

Everyone but Byleth and Seteth sputtered. “Three thousand-” a collective voice choked as all eyes turned to Wolfie.

“Ah,” he scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Didn’t I mention?”

They all stared, befuddled, at their King’s consort, with varying degrees of surprise.

Dedue closed his eyes, then was the first one to move. “... I’ll summon her here.”

“Ah, thank you, Dedue.” Dimitri recovered his composure. He had heard from Wolfram that his mother was a kind of ancient being, but he had no idea of HOW ancient she was.

He now felt too humbled to even be in her presence, but that had to wait.

For now, they had a war council to run, a year after the end of the last war.

If what the letter said was true, those who slither in the dark was an ancient organization set upon decimating the children of the goddess and any who worship them. Monica, or rather, Kronya, and Tomas/Solon were known members of it, though the man who went by ‘Thales’, who only Byleth met briefly before Jeralt’s death, had taken the place of an influential person no one ever expected: Volkhard von Arundel, Dimitri’s uncle by marriage.

They had dealt a decisive blow against those who slither in the dark during the past war without realizing, as the letter explained. Hubert even snarked, saying that although the Empire had lost that battle against the Alliance and the Kingdom, they cheered inwardly at the death of such a repugnable being.

“That also may be the reason why there hasn’t been an attack from them in the past year.” Byleth added as they discussed the contents.

“If they were busy regrouping after losing so many key members… It makes sense.” Sylvain pitched in, checking the map attached to the letter. “This place’s right south of Hilda’s territory, isn’t it? Good thing she and Caspar are staying here for the time being, huh?”

“See, I told you!” Annette puffed her cheeks to her former classmate, earning a few chuckles all around even amidst all the tension of the looming threat.

“OH!!!” Wolfram exclaimed out of nowhere. “Oh, oh! Now I remember!” he jumped out of his seat, placing both hands on the table. “I don’t think I told anyone, but during that battle in Derdriu, I felt something strange oozing from the enemies… And then, when we got into Enbarr-”

Dimitri interrupted, with a hand on his chin in thought. “You mentioned that something stank, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah! I felt that there was something familiar about them, but I never made the connection until now. So those were the people infiltrated into the imperial forces… those who slither in the dark.”

“You could smell them?” Felix asked in disbelief, frowning deeply.

Wolfram scratched his nose awkwardly.

“We have better senses than humans,” he said in a small voice, fixing his gaze on the door.

Frowning even more, Felix looked from the consort to the door and, for a moment, nothing happened.

However, soon Dedue opened the door, bringing Nidra with him.

Since she had been brought at such short notice, she wore a veil around her head to hide her ears, though she lifted it once the door closed behind them.

Those inside gawked at the sight of her, now with the knowledge of being in the presence of a being older than time itself.

Blinking, Nidra tilted her head to the side at the strange atmosphere before making her way to Wolfram. “I was told something concerning had happened.”

Wolfie nodded, glancing between Dimitri and Nidra. “Yeah, the truth is…”

Once filled in the details, Nidra took the letter and the map. “This pull I feel… around here,” she pointed to a place near the Monastery: it was Zanado, the Red Canyon, where the former archbishop and strongest of the children of the goddess, Rhea, now resided. “Does it have anything to do with this enemy?”

“Oh, wow! You can feel her from here, Mother? I could only feel it when we arrived at the mountains…”

The classmates exchanged glances around the table, confused. Only Seteth silently gasped in surprise, remembering the talk he and Wolfram had had in his office, over a year ago.

“Aheem, um- yeah she’s on our side, so it’s okay.” Wolfie waved both hands as if to dismiss the topic in a hurry.

“Very well,” Nidra put the map back on the table. “These… enemies, according to this letter, somehow resemble those who once tried to use Lady Tiki in their evil plan to conquer the world. If we had more time, perhaps she would’ve been able to infer her insight on this.”

‘Lady Tiki?!’ the classmates thought at the same time. Was it someone more incredible than the woman who lived almost three millenia standing right in front of them?! They were even afraid to ask.

“I’m afraid my forte is not strategy, as that spot is already taken by a dear friend of mine. However, I will do what I can to help this cause.” Nidra concluded, gracefully sitting down beside Wolfram. “It is, after all, a personal matter now,” she smiled, though the pressure exuding from it made the classmates freeze in their spots.

Perhaps it was true that they should pity their enemies.

_______

It would be for the best not to attract too much attention as they moved, so only a handful of people were aware of the true danger. It would do more harm than good to alert the entire population of a danger that might or might not surface in the near future.

Thus, the newly-married King and his consort set out to the Monastery -- officially, that is -- alongside the Archbishop and her consort, bringing quite a few soldiers as escorts with them.

Hilda sent an express messenger to her brother back at their territory to check if there’s been any activity around that area in the past few months, though nothing in particular popped up.

They weren’t called ‘those who slither in the dark’ for nothing, apparently.

Even in his letter Hubert mused how difficult it had been to pinpoint the whereabouts of Shambhala since they had been very careful with the types of magic they used. He had to follow their lines of supplies through espionage, but that was beside the point.

What mattered was that the headquarters was finally within their grasp, even if it wasn’t during the exact time they were supposed to know about it.

When the former classmates from other houses and the rest of Wolfie’s family had been told about the campaign, their readiness to jump back into battle was inspiring and staggering at the same time.

Even the peace-loving Dorothea immediately jumped into the bandwagon, surprising Wolfram into giving her a big hug.

There was no way of knowing the extent of the enemy forces, so although they left with a considerable number of troops under the guise of an escort, there was no shortage of worry. Even if their leaders had been eliminated, new ones would surely surface, so that wasn’t enough to let their guards down.

According to Byleth, they had been the ones who slaughtered the children of the goddess and made weapons out of their bones and crests stones out of their hearts, not to mention how they had experimented on Lysithea during her childhood or how they had kidnapped Flayn for her blood.

They had to be more careful than ever when dealing with such unscrupulous people.

“Yuck, and I thought no one could out-awful the grimleal.” Cynthia made a sour expression one night after the march. “How’re you feeling, Rammy? Are you okay?”

“Hm… I don’t think I am, actually.” Wolfram confessed as they sat near a random tent. “You know, the first mission I had to go to was… was to deal with something these guys did in a tiny village.” He shivered, holding himself as if to warm his arms from the chill. “It was horrible. I kept thinking about what you and Big Brother told me just so I wouldn’t be a crying mess for weeks.” He leaned on Cynthia’s shoulder as she scooted closer.

“Don’t worry, Rammy. Big Sis here is gonna kick their butts so hard I’ll turn them inside out.” She clenched her fist decidedly. “I’ll probably dust off my dragonstone for this.”

“Whoa, Sis, but what about your pegasus?” Wolfie gasped in surprise.

“Well, my arm in human form isn’t as strong as my,” she mimicked biting the air, “jaws in dragon form.” She grinned. “And I’m ready to fill my belly with baddies.”

“W-wait, what if they give you indigestion!” Wolfie finally laughed, making Cynthia sag her shoulders in relief.

“No amount of baddies could make MY belly upset! Not the greatest hero that ever lived, Cynthia, the pegasus-riding dragon!” She struck a pose, receiving applause from a giggling Wolfie.

Content, the big sister patted her younger brother’s head.

_____

Despite being cheered up by Cynthia, Wolfie still worried as they marched, to the point that he was unable to sleep sometimes.

Dimitri, as one with a light sleep, noticed when his husband tossed and turned in bed. “Wolfram…”

“Ah, did I wake you? I’m sorry, Dimitri.” Wolfie slapped both hands over his mouth. “I’m just so nervous about it all,” he scooted closer, hiding in Dimitri’s embrace. “I keep remembering Remire village…”

Dimitri softly hugged his husband back, digging his face into his thin neck. “Indeed, that was a terrible experience for me as well, at the time. But we will put an end to all of that suffering, now once and for all.”

“Put an end to the suffering…” Wolfie mused. “I hadn’t thought about that. I was so focused on all the evil they did and how strong they must be, I wasn’t looking ahead!”

Chuckling, Dimitri kissed Wolfram’s forehead. “To think the student would become the teacher,” he smiled. “You were the one who taught me to think of the good I could make, so I’ve been taking it to heart.”

“Mhm,” Wolfie grinned, feeling pride well up inside his chest. “Thanks for reminding me of it, Dimitri. I think I can finally have a good night’s sleep, thinking of the good we can do.”

“That’s good.” Dimitri nodded, bringing Wolfie closer into his arms. “The weather gets warmer the further we get from Faerghus, but…”

“Of course, I’m not trading your hugs for anything, not even if it’s too hot!” Wolfie giggled, rubbing his face on his husband’s strong chest.

Under loving giggles and soft embraces, the rulers of the Unified Fódlan fell asleep in one another’s arms on the eve of their arrival.

_____

The entrance to Shambhala was within a mountain, under many strange and familiar contraptions -- they resembled those who lifted them downwards to the Holy Tomb. The air was still and hard to breathe the deeper they went, but under the eerie lights embedded on the walls and the constant flow of dark mages, there could be no doubt about it: they really were in the heart of the enemy.

Byleth took the charge as she had always had, though this time her Sword of the Creator shone brighter than ever, ready to soak up all the blood its owner had spilled to create it. There were Demonic Beasts and Titanuses blocking their path left and right, but with the collective might of mages and dragons, they, too, fell like dominoes to the Kingdom’s might.

There were many traps to be disarmed as they swooped in, some that they had never seen the power of -- like the Javelins of Light, that had decimated Zanado a millenia ago. Though they all equally fell to the Kingdom army due the incompetence of the organization's new leaders.

Once they descended some dozen floors, never stopping with killing everything in sight, they arrived at a room with oval compartments around the walls.

There were eleven of them, with the biggest one menacingly standing in the middle.

Cautious, Byleth asked Yuri and Ashe to approach, as the stealthiest ones in the team, but the moment they took the first step into the room, smoke rose up from the tubes connecting to the compartments.

“Archwind!” Henry shouted immediately, dissipating the dangerous-looking smoke into nothing.

It revealed that the doors to the compartments opened upwards, one by one, revealing dead-looking people inside.

They were grey as ash and the putrid smell that filled the room told the army that something that defiled even Death stood in front of them.

“Seiros…” the man in the middle, who towered over even Dedue at almost 3 meters tall, grunted in a guttural, animal-like voice. He took a whip-looking thing from his waist, immediately whipping it ahead -- straight in Byleth’s direction.

She blocked it with her Sword of the Creator, noticing that that was no whip: it looked exactly like her sword, though it was bathed in black.

“You’re…” she widened her eyes in surprise. “Nemesis!”

“What?!” the army gasped in surprise behind the Professor.

“Then those ten are…” Dimitri’s words trailed off as the 10 Elites each brandished a shadow copy of their original Relics. “Quick, to arms! Do not let them gather their strength!”

“I’ll keep Nemesis occupied! Defeat the others!” Byleth rushed ahead.

Although the room was enormous, it didn’t fit all of the units they had brought, especially not the draconic ones in their original forms. Due to that, Wolfie’s family had to fight in their human forms, though they were no weaker than before -- Nidra especially, who had perfect control over her dragonstone to allow it to give her the strength equivalent to her dragonic form without completely transforming. She fought with her fists.

By her side, Henry cackled maniacally, loving that new side of his wife.

The battle against the revived 10 Elites was over embarrassingly fast, though no one dared to mention it aloud. Perhaps it was because they had just been resurrected, or just because the Kingdom army was just that strong.

One thing was for certain: the moment the last of the ten fell, Byleth’s sword managed to wound and then kill Nemesis, as if he had been protected by magic that connected all of them to him.

“Humph,” Byleth whipped her sword back into its original shape. “It was good that we were informed of this place when we did. I think those who slither in the dark wouldn’t unleash this threat until this age was over, so we managed to protect future generations.”

“We saved the future of not only one, but TWO worlds!” Cynthia threw her elbows back in a pose. “Now I can rub that in Owain’s face, mwahaha…!”

No one truly heard, or simply ignored, her words as they all came to terms with the victory.

“Was this the last floor? Did we really do it?” Someone asked.

“I can’t believe there was so much hidden underground,” another person mused, though, by far, the most common reaction was a shout to the sky.

“We won!!!” They cheered.

It was a mission that ended as quickly as it arrived, though it was by no means easy on their hearts. To be thrown into another war right after being able to stand after the last one made the soldiers’ hearts waver.

Yet, now it was all over.

“I’ll have to make sure there weren’t more of these around the land,” Byleth mused to herself as Seteth wiped the blood out of her face with the worry of a very concerned husband.

“That this place existed at all is already unimaginable enough… But true, we shouldn’t overlook that possibility.”

On the other side of the room, Wolfie hugged all of his family and his husband in turns. “We did it!! Thank you so much, everyone! I don’t think we could’ve ended this so fast without you.”

“Of course you couldn’t! Not without the duo heroes, Cynthia!” Both Cyn and Cynthia struck an ‘x’ pose as petals magically exploded behind them.

“Nyahaha…” a glint shone in Henry’s eyes as he helped flaunter his daughters’ antics.

His heart full, Wolfram’s nose itched with tears. “Thank you so much, really, thank you… Now we can truly, finally be at peace.”

Dimitri slid one hand to Wolfie’s waist. “Indeed. Your help was invaluable, mother-in-law, father-in-law.” He bowed.

“Wow! This makes me feel so old!” Henry giggled, waving his hand to Dimitri’s bow. “It’s fine, I’ve been wanting to spill some blood for a while… hey, be sure to call on me if you need something killed, alright? There’s not much fun- aack, owowow, Ni-Ni!”

Pulling her husband’s ear, Nidra sighed. “Pay him no mind, Dimitri.”

Dimitri blinked, then laughed as warmth enveloped his chest.

It would take a bit of getting used to to finally accept that he now had a family -- and a really big and diverse one at that.

Yet, whenever he held Wolfram’s hands in his, he couldn’t help but accept that reality readily. Truly, only bright days waited ahead of them.

The party dissolved little by little as they returned home.

Hilda and Caspar stayed at the former Alliance to visit her home and tell them the good news of their victory. There was also another set of good news that would visit them in a few weeks’ time, the first of many, many new members of their little family.

Dorothea returned to Enbarr to be with her husband, Ferdinand, and help him rule over his domain. She brought him the news of what Thales had done as Arundel in the Wrym territory, and the both of them wondered if they had ever met the real Arundel at some point in their lives or if those who slither in the dark had truly been infiltrated so deep into the Empire for that long.

Byleth and Seteth headed back to the Monastery, though first they stopped by Zanado to tell Rhea of everything that had happened. They didn’t call on her before since she was still recuperating after five years of torture at the only place she had called home since ancient times, but now that Nemesis had been defeated once and for all, she deserved to know the truth. Rhea weeped for her mother and brethren for the first time in centuries, somehow managing to let go of a lot of resentment and attachments, which stabilized her aura considerably.

Now, Nidra wouldn’t be able to sense her from Faerghus like before.

As the new Archbishop, Byleth would spread the truth of what actually happened at the creation of the Church of Seiros, though she would be doing that over the centuries with Seteth by her side.

Dedue and Mercedes finally went on their trip to Duscur, though Dimitri said that if they wanted to take permanent residence there, he would do his utmost to bring the land back to fruition. Dedue was conflicted at first, since he wanted to serve Dimitri for the rest of his life, but the prospect of rebuilding his land beside the one he loved moved his heart like never before. Besides, it was only a week of travel between Duscur and Fhirdiad, so they could see each other any time.

Cyn and Ingrid established a new Pegasus Order in Fódlan, based on the one from Ylisse. Even though Cyn’s pegasus looked different from the others, it was by no means weaker or slower, so it was easily accepted into the group at the barn.

Claude, now crowned King of Almyra, would sometimes visit Fhirdiad in diplomatic missions, so his promise with Wolfie was fulfilled now that they could meet whenever they wanted. As Cyn was Wolfie’s personal guard, she and Claude saw a lot of each other whenever he visited, and there were some glances…

Cynthia, Meliodas and their spouses moved into their family’s castle, bringing new life into it even after Wolfie and Cyn’s departure.

Surprisingly, the one who visited the most was Henry and not Nidra, though he liked to study Fódlan’s magic more often than not -- it was said that the innate magic he learned could decimate a few dozen armies, though that wasn’t put to practice. … Yet, anyway.

Nidra learned how to braid her hair around her ears from Dorothea, so now she didn’t need to walk around with the veil anymore. She divided her time between visiting Robin in her detached palace and Wolfie in his, so she was by no means staying still, though she still relished in taking naps under the oak tree in the garden.

Wolfram and Dimitri, years later, would decide to adopt a child to be the heir to the throne, though first and foremost they would treat him like their own son before he was to be the next king.

Family was, after all, everything that mattered.

Now, and forever.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #dimitri fire emblem #fatesona #fodlansona #my writings #yuki's commissions

[stephic-writings]

The Greatest Game -- Felix x Sylvain (Round One)

Oh hey! Is this me writing a fanfic finally? Gasp! Is this me writing a Fire Emblem Three Houses fic too? Gasp again!

I’ve actually been sitting on this fic for awhile now, but I revisited it pretty recently! And what’s more is that the amount of stuff that I want to include with it means that it’s a chapter-based fic, something that I don’t do very often. Whoa! I’m excited to work on this in between things, as I’ve missed having a cooldown writing or just a fanfic to work on in between my work. I hope you guys enjoy it too! I miss writing romantic comedies~

Especially when I get to write tsunderes. Felix is the best tsundere archetype, and I love it.

WARNINGS: Sexual Tension, Idiots Being Idiots, Probably Some Naughty Stuff Later On Ships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Felix Hugo Fraldarius Chapter Word Count: 2198

Read on AO3 too!

It was always a game to him. A competition. A hunt. The hunter would find its prey, stalk it down, and wait until it exhausted itself. And when it was weak and vulnerable, the hunter -- predator – would strike. To the prey, it was all but a brief flash before it was all over from there and their once pleasant life was spiraled into chaos. But to the hunter, it was a thrilling game. The adrenaline caused by the sensation of a successful hunt was enough to send a shiver down his spine. He engrossed himself in such behavior until he devolved into an intoxicated beast who was only sated by the hunt.

And it was what disgusted Felix about Sylvain. He assumed this kind of hunter/hunted mentality would come from the boar himself, but no. Even Dmitri was reasonable enough to put a damn muzzle on himself to calm down even after war broke out, especially whenever their childhood professor was involved. That red-headed menace, however, was a far different story. Uncontrollable, unsated even after five years of potential maturity that seemed to skip over him completely, Sylvain found himself less interested in the art of war and more in the art of seduction -- the hunt. Many warriors wished to be as skillful at combat as Sylvain was at charming women, for it truly was a feat – a talent once could say.

Not that Felix would outright say it. To Felix, Sylvain was nothing more than a degenerate heathen who needed a goddamn reality check. Seducing women was not something to take pride in, because obviously those women needed much more training in resisting emotional manipulation. Sharpen your mind like any blade, and you could see through such fiendish tactics that a dog like Sylvain would use.

Instead of chasing skirts, Sylvain should have been taking his training more seriously, for it took Felix approximately two seconds in one solid movement to knock him down. A simple sweep of the leg, a hilt to the correct pressure point on the back of the neck, and Sylvain was groaning on the ground with Felix’s foot pressed on that thick skull of his.

“…You’re dead. Again.”

“Aw, come on. There was a fly distracting me that time.” Sylvain grunted as Felix stepped off him. His hair was even more tossed around as he sat up, fresh dirt on his cheek and tunic as he gave an annoyed frown. “I feel like you’re just purposely ‘killing’ me in these combat scenarios now.”

“Of course I am, you idiot. Every enemy out there is trying to ‘purposely’ kill you, so you better get your act together.” Felix made his way to the weapon’s rack, tossing aside his training sword amidst the pile of worn-down wood. Lately, he would wear down these training blades faster than he anticipated. Every time he’d do a sparring session with his red-headed companion, he’d go through at least three of them. Oh well… Another blade, for another round. “One more time.”

“Really?! We’ve already gone at least five rounds.”

“Are you saying that you have endurance in the bedroom but not in a fight? That speaks wonders about your endurance as a whole…”

Sylvain jerked his head away to hide the little bit of tarnished pride he had before he finally managed to get himself to his feet again. He could feel his knees shake from all the bruises he’s gotten on them. Felix always did think it was funny to go for the knees. “You really know how to wound me, Felix. My body, my ego. Are you angry at me or something? Is this about what happened last night? I mean, I already said I was sorry.”

“Sorry won’t change the fact that I found you broke into my room and fell on me with the scullery maid.”

“…Okay, I admit. That was a pretty bad situation. But it was dark, and your room looked just like mine from a darkened perspective-“

“I don’t need any more excuses, Sylvain.” Felix’s eyes furrowed at his red-headed combatant, hand gripping tight to the new training sword as he wandered his way towards one of the training dummies. “Chasing women and flirting your way into people’s hearts won’t help you survive out there on the battlefield. What do you plan on doing when you’re faced with a great enemy? Wink at them and ask them to dinner?”

Sylvain paused for a moment before a smirk crept onto his face. “Well, if it works, it works.”

“Sylvain.”

“What? Why are you even bringing all this up? Don’t tell me you’re getting jealous, Felix.”

The swordsman let out a scoff, blowing his bangs from his eyes as he wipes away the sweat from his neck. Or at least, Felix told himself that. He had to place his hand over the vein on his neck that throbbed in annoyance at the mention of Felix’s jealousy. Felix was not jealous of Sylvain. This dumb oaf was full of himself if he even thought that. And Felix didn’t even need to say a single word to express how ridiculous the idea was as he turned to Sylvain, brown eyes piercing daggers into the red-haired man.

The expression prompted Sylvain to sigh as he threw his arms out to the side in frustration. “What do you expect me to do? I’m not some war machine like you or Dmitri. Hell, if I had it my way, I’d say we talk to Edelgard, take her out to a nice dinner, and let her and Dmitri talk things out under a candlelit moonlight.”

“That sounds ridiculous and delusional.”

“Then what’s your big plan?” As Felix hacked away at the stuffed hay figure, Sylvain made his way over, leaning against the unclaimed training dummy nearby. His eyes lazily watched Felix, seeing that the aggression in his eyes were tainted by a hint of annoyance and a desperate need to distract himself from something. Sylvain arched an eyebrow in thought. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of one. Does that mean we’re just going to waltz up to the front gates of the Empire and kill every last one of them?”

“If that’s what we have to do, then yes.”

“What kind of plan is that? At least my idea has some diplomacy involved.”

With Felix’s next swing, the training sword had found itself lodged into the mannequin with his powerful Felix’s strike. Sylvain’s eyes widened, feeling a bit of cold sweat beat down as Felix let go of the sword and glared at Sylvain.

Sylvain’s expression relaxed slightly as he noticed Felix’s demeanor change. Yes, he was still as irritated as ever, but he stepped up to Sylvain to get in his face. Sylvain couldn’t help but chuckle. Even after five years, Felix was still shorter than he was. It made Felix’s attempt to size him up all the less intimidating. Good, for it was enough for Sylvain to stand his guard, looking down to Felix as he observed the very distinct scowl wrinkles under his eyes and on his brows. Sylvain tilted his head, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth as he leaned closer to listen to Felix’s snarls.

“Seduction is not diplomacy. And I know for a damn fact that it won’t win you any battles, Sylvain. So rely on your manipulation tactics all that you like. Just know that it will get you killed in the end.”

“You think that I can’t charm my way to a win?”

“I know you can’t.”

“Then how about we bet on it?”

Felix’s eyes narrowed at Sylvain’s words, just as the red-head predicted. As expected, Felix could never turn down a challenge -- especially not one against Sylvain. It was only confirmed officially when Felix crossed his arms and quizzically muttered under his breath. “What kind of bet?”

“It’s simple. You’re saying that I can’t take down someone with just my charm alone, right?”

“I’m saying it will get you killed.”

“And let’s say I don’t get killed… Then I win the battle, right?”

Felix didn’t outwardly admit it, but the look in his eye let Sylvain know that he had a point. “Get on with it.”

“I’m betting that I can win a fight with just my charm alone. I won’t make any swings or dirty blows. Instead, I’ll use all of my hard-learned skills as a romantic to take down my greatest opponent.”

“Greatest opponent, huh?” Felix unfolded his arms, resting them on his sides as he challenged Sylvain with his stature. “And who would that be? Ingrid? Mercedes? The head chef?”

“ You.”

For someone as guarded as Felix was, his eyes widened when he processed Sylvain’s words. A challenge of charm alone… To take down Sylvain’s greatest opponent, Felix himself. He must have been joking? What kind of idiot was he? A serious one, Felix realized. For when his eyes looked away to process the notion, they returned back to a sultry gaze -- one that was much closer than Felix had recalled just mere seconds ago. The swordsman grit his teeth, reaching out and planting his palm firmly against Sylvain’s face as he pushed him away. “Stop fooling around. Your jokes aren’t funny.”

“You think I’m joking?”

Felix wasn’t expected for Sylvain to take his wrist in response. Rather than a firm jerk that he was expected, the swordsman found himself guided back towards the cavalier. Felix stared in disbelief, an arm around his waist that kept him back in his place as Sylvain very gently caressed the swordsman’s calloused fingers. He didn’t know how to react to the red-haired man’s gesture like this. Instead, he was left in the hold with eyebrows furrowed and body temporarily stunned.

Sylvain grinned back at him. “If I can seduce you in two weeks time, then I win. If I can’t, then you win. How’s that sound?”

“You? Seduce me?” Felix gawked, jerking his hand back but still remaining in Sylvain’s embrace. “Have you grown bored of your usual prey?”

“I wouldn’t say that. But you’re sounding a lot like you’re backing away from a challenge, Felix. What? Think you’d lose?”

“N-Nonsense.” Felix’s attention broke from Sylvain’s eyes as he felt fingers brush just underneath the hem of his shirt. He couldn’t help but make a face at the sensation. Of course Sylvain’s fingers would be cold… Felix forced his attention back to Sylvain again, this time with an expression far more serious. “If I accept this challenge from you, you nor I would be losing anything from it. A bet has to have something at stake for it to be worth taking.”

“I guess you’re right…”

Sylvain’s gaze softened in thought before he loosened his hold around Felix. But just before he could step away, a hand shot out, latching onto Sylvain’s forearm and keeping him there. Felix’s gaze didn’t focus on the brown pair that looked at him in surprise. “If I win, then you’ll cease your fraternizing once and for all and focus on your training more. I’m not going to let you flake out and die on me out there, got it?”

A chuckle came from the red-head as he stepped back to Felix. “I hear you, I hear you. Have to keep my promise and everything, right?” Felix was quiet, only causing Sylvain to let out a small sigh as he looked at Felix with a gentle smile. The bet wasn’t even on, and already Sylvain wanted to lay on the charm. How could anyone resist a grumpy face like that? “If I win though… You have to do whatever I tell you to do. One thing. That’s all.”

“Knowing you, you’d weasel your way around it. Saying that you want me to do ‘anything you want.’” Felix gripped the front of Sylvain’s tunic, pulling him down to his height as he glared. “You won’t win against me, Sylvain.”

“You’re sounding awfully confident there, Felix.” Sylvain grinned at the swordsmen, who only returned an irritated expression back. “This isn’t a battle of swords anymore, so I hope you’re ready to be disarmed by me.”

A grunt was all that Felix could retort with as he tossed Sylvain’s tunic forward to get the other man from him. Felix was the one that sounded confident? Sylvain was over there talking big when the bet hadn’t even started yet. That kind of arrogance just made Felix want to win even more. The swordsman went back to the bench, picking up his coat before he made his way towards the exit of the training grounds. Felix wouldn’t drop his guard for a degenerate like Sylvain. He always won in their competitions before, he would continue to do so -- no matter how confident Sylvain was in himself.

“By the way, Felix?”

“What now, Sylvain?”

“...Nice ass.”

Felix stopped dead in his tracks, his expression screaming Excuse me? He turned to do a double-take, eyebrow arching and the faintest blush over his pale face as he turned towards Sylvain. Sylvain winked in response, giving a wave to Felix as the swordsman stormed away and leaving Sylvain behind with a smirk on his face.

#stephic writings #fanfiction #fire emblem three houses #fe3h fanfiction #fanfic #sylvain gautier #felix fraldarius #sylvain #felix #fe3h #sylvain jose gautier #felix hugo fraldarius #i don't know how to tag a new fandom #this is the first time i'm writing in this fandom #whoooooa! #i'm hyped! #i hope you guys enjoy it though #i can't wait to keep writing on this #:DDD

[kumeko]

Title: goodbye my hopeless dream

A/N: For the Sylvgrid BB, for watercolorvigilante’s heartbreaking work. I love the angst of separating the Faerghus Four.

Summary: Five years ago, Sylvain had thought they could fix it all. That they could bring Dimitri to the Alliance, that they could end the war and save everyone. Yet…Felix lay face down, Ingrid sobbing on her knees, and Dimitri frozen forever mid snarl. He wasn’t sure how he could pick the pieces up after this, but he had to try.

…

…

…

…

Something was burning. Sylvain stuck his lance in the dirt carelessly, ignoring every lesson he’d ever learned about proper weapon care, and closed his eyes. Something was burning. Possibly someone, the air was full of fat and smoke and his throat grew drier with every breath. There were dozens of small fires nearby, the only outcome in the middle of a battlefield, where mages scorched the earth and fiery arrows rained down on their ashes.

 He opened his eyes. Before him spread a war-torn field, survivors picking dragging themselves off the fields and to their respective armies. Something bitter filled his mouth as he saw the bodies strewn across the field, blood pooling in the mud. Crows cawed as they perched on bare trees, their beady eyes taking in the field, and vultures circled above as they eyed their food.

 Five years ago, the Battle of Lion and Eagle had been nothing like this. Five years ago, they had all been just kids fighting for bragging rights and victory letters to send home, for stories to seduce strangers and that shiny glory that had seemed all too important at the time.

 Five years ago, he had been in with the Kingdom, not the Alliance. Now his Golden Deer family were scattered across the field, helping each other back. The Empire was long gone, Edelgard leaving behind the wounded and the dead alike. The Kingdom was torn apart, shredded into pieces. And Dimitri…

Sylvain shivered at the memory. The one-eyed, raging monster he’d seen hours ago hadn’t been any friend he’d known. The only thing that had motivated him was a long-nursed hatred, one that Sylvain hadn’t seen for all the years he’d known him.

 Or maybe he had avoided seeing it, just like how he was now avoiding the dead spread around him, trying not to look at their faces. He didn’t want to see another classmate he used to sneak out with, another beauty he’d flirted with in the shadows.

 He was certain Ingrid was doing the exact opposite. She’d always had a masochist streak and unlike him was probably all too intent on memorizing every person she’d killed.

 Sylvain looked up. It had been hours since he’d seen her Pegasus. “Ingrid?”

 Dread filled him and he yanked his lance out of the dirt. This was Ingrid he was thinking of. She was unkillable. Even Felix’s hardest glares and Sylvain’s worst lies hadn’t done the job.

 “It’ll be fine,” he muttered. Whistling, he waited impatiently for his steed to gallop over. His horse’s silken mane was matted in blood and dirt. Grabbing the saddle, Sylvain slung himself over. “I bet I look just as bad,” he murmured, patting his horse’s neck once before squeezing his thighs. “When we find Ingrid, I’ll make sure she gives you her special mixture.”

 His horse nickered and quickly trotted through the field. Sylvain scanned his surroundings as they moved, searching for the pure white Pegasus or even just Ingrid’s blonde hair. As he looked, he avoided checking the bodies, refused to check the bodies.

 There was no need.

 Ingrid wouldn’t be lying in the dirt like that. Not after all the times she’d yelled at him for his slovenly room.

 Instead of blonde, he spotted pink. He turned his head.

 Ingrid would have stopped.

 Sylvain gritted his teeth and guided his horse across the field. A tired, limping Hilda looked up blearily. With her stockings torn, hair awry, and a nasty cut along her chest, she looked as bad as he felt. She even dragged her axe instead of carrying it. “Hey.”

 “Hey.” He slipped off his horse, wrapping an arm around her waist as he helped her out of the ditch. “You’ve looked better.”

 “I’d say you’ve looked worse, but that’s a lie.” Hilda grinned crookedly as she leaned on him. She felt impossibly small, nothing at all like the mischievous woman who was Claude’s right hand. “Glad you made it.”

 “Me too.” Sylvain swallowed. “Did you see Ingrid?”

 He held his breath as she frowned and shook her head. “No…not for a while.” Noticing his face, Hilda squeezed his arm reassuringly. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s a strong bitch.”

 Sylvain couldn’t laugh at the old joke. They’d exchanged it many times after Ingrid had scolded them or knocked them on their asses during practice. “She’s really strong.” His voice came out more of a whisper than he’d intended.

 “The strongest,” she agreed, pulling away. Leaning on her axe, she patted his back. “You go find her.”

 Sylvain hesitated. “Your chest—”

 “Needs Marianne’s loving attention,” Hilda interrupted, winking. Though, with the dirt streaked on her cheeks and her pale skin, she didn’t look half as flirty as she acted. “I can make it back from here.” She forced herself to stand a little straighter but for all her acting, she couldn’t hide her wince. “Who knows, maybe Ingrid’s there already. She’ll be too busy nursing me to health to take care of you.”

 Hilda waggled her brows. He wanted to smile but he couldn’t muster the energy.

 Ingrid would have helped her regardless.

 For all of her faith in him, he’d never been half as good as she’d hoped and not even a quarter as good as she was. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, letting his guilt and fear chase him as he vaulted onto his horse once more, spurring it through the field as though death itself were after them.

 Hilda wasn’t critically injured, at least. She could stand and she could joke and one of the others would find her in no time. They’d laugh about it later and she’d tease that he had tunnel vision when it came to Ingrid. The dense idiot that she was, Ingrid wouldn’t understand until maybe years down the road, when he told her everything.

 He clenched his fist. “Ingrid? INGRID!”

 The only response were the grunts and moans as other survivors crawled, hoping someone, anyone could come to their rescue. He’d save them all after he found Ingrid. He’d personally pick them up, carry them to Flayn and Manuela. He’d even wrap their bandages himself.

 He just had to find Ingrid first.

 “Sylvain!”

 A familiar gold caught his eye, and for a moment Sylvain thought Ingrid before realizing it was Claude’s torn cloak. He pulled his reins tight, heels digging into his horse as he came to a stop just beside the tired leader. Byleth wasn’t by his side for once. Maybe she was out there, picking up her former students.

 Maybe she’d already found Hilda.

 “Claude.” Sylvain tried to smile. It came out like a grimace. “Have you seen Ingrid?”

 “Straight to the point, huh?” Claude chuckled wryly, pulling his gloves off his fingers. His arms had small burns on them, the attacks of enemy mages, and Sylvain tried not to think how much that must have hurt as he loosed arrow after arrow. “No, not yet.”

 “Hilda’s that way,” Sylvain blurted out, unable to stop himself. He jabbed over his shoulder. “She’ll need help.”

 “Oh.” Claude blinked, resting his hand on the flank of Sylvain’s horse as he looked. His dragon wasn’t with him. Sylvain tried not to wonder why. “I’ll get her then. Thanks.”

 They stood there a moment, neither of them moving. Sylvain’s horse panted, nostrils flaring as he caught his breath.

 “I…I didn’t think it’d end like this,” Claude admitted quietly, barely audible over the wind. “Edelgard…I knew she wouldn’t listen, but Dimitri?”

 It was like a gut punch, remembering Dimitri. When he and Ingrid had heard Dimitri had survived his execution, they’d sworn to bring him over to Claude’s side. Dimitri had been a reasonable person, after all. He should have been reasonable now.

 Goddess, why hadn’t he been reasonable now? Sylvain thought, looking away. “I thought he’d come around.”

 “Me too. We could have avoided so much…” Claude trailed off. It wasn’t like simple bloodshed could describe everything they’d experienced here today.

 “Maybe next time,” Sylvain croaked, licking his chapped lips nervously. The air was still far too dry. It was hard to breathe. “We can talk to Dimitri again. Maybe after he’s had time to calm down.”

 Claude snapped his head to him, his expression unreadable. After a few, heart-pounding seconds, he pointed to his left. “Is that a Pegasus?”

 Immediately, Sylvain jerked his head up. Further up the hill, almost at the treeline, he could just make out a white horse. A pure white horse, sitting on the ground.

 It had to be a Pegasus. It had to be Ingrid’s. He squeezed his thighs, urging his horse into a gallop as he hastily shouted, “Thanks!”

 He really did have tunnel vision. Sylvain couldn’t tell anyone, even himself, how he got to Ingrid, what the route was like, anything really. He just kept his eyes fixed on the white horse, watched as its sides became wings and the saddle on its back took on the familiar markings of Ingrid’s. There was no blood on it, as far as he could tell, no injuries at all aside from a few ruffled feathers.

 That was good, right? It must have been tired after the long fight. Maybe Ingrid was letting it rest before heading to camp. “Ingrid?” he called out as he reached, jumping off his horse without even waiting for a response.

 The silence worried him. She wasn’t beside her steed and she’d never abandon her partner. “Where is she?” he murmured, patting her Pegasus’s nose. Her partner whickered, turning to his right and further up the hill. A bright green cloak stood out amongst the bushes, a familiar coil of blonde braided hair crowning it.

 Ingrid.

 She was kneeling next to someone. He could just make out their legs, still and unmoving. Of course, she was taking care of an injured solider, the bleeding heart she was. He’d bet the farm that she hadn’t even thought to look for him before doing that.

 And if she was doing that, she couldn’t be that injured. Sighing with relief, he jogged to her. “There you are.”

 Ingrid looked over her shoulder, cheeks stained with tears. “Sylvain,” she rasped, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

 “Sorry for—” He couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe after he saw Dimitri lying in front of her. His chest squeezed and he stumbled the final few steps to her side.

 Unlike the raging man he’d seen hours ago, Dimitri was utterly still and calm as he lay there. His bright, blue eye stared unseeing at the sky, his mouth half-open as though mid-way through a roar. Ingrid whimpered and Sylvain stared at the lance stuck in Dimitri’s chest.

 Luin.

 Bile rose in his throat and Sylvain barely crawled forward more than a few steps before he vomited in the bushes. Oh no. Oh no no no. He could just picture it now. Dimitri and Ingrid. And Felix—Sylvain couldn’t stop himself before he looked for a familiar fur-lined jacket.

 There was a sword in his hand. He’d died as he’d lived. Sylvain vomited again.

 “It’s my fault,” Ingrid sobbed, curling into herself. “I’m sorry.”

 His heart broke a second time at the sound. Wiping his mouth, he forced himself to his feet and stumbled back to her side. Sylvain forced back his uneasy stomach, forced back his growing numbness and pain, and gathered her in his arms, crushing her to his chest. “It’s not.”

 “It is,” she repeated, apologizing over and over even as she pressed into him. “It is.”

 And he couldn’t argue with that, not when her lance was in Dimitri’s chest. It wasn’t like five years ago, when she’d been crushed after they’d changed houses—no one could have predicted the looming war, the fact that they’d be disowned by their own families for something as simple as following their beliefs.

 It wasn’t like years ago, after Glen’s death, when Dimitri had broken down, Felix had hardened, and Ingrid had holed herself in her room. It hadn’t been anyone’s fault then. They’d been just kids, taking on more than they should have.

 Now, there was only Ingrid.

 And Dimitri’s blood was on her hands.

 Bile rose once more, pricking his tongue, but he forced it back down. She’d break if he said anything else. She’d break and then he’d break with her. Sylvain buried his face in her hair and shook his head. “Not true.”

 “I…I did it,” she sobbed, her fingers digging into his sides.

 “He would have killed you.” He realized the truth of his words as he said them. Dimitri would have killed her. The others from their house might not have. Annette and Mercedes and maybe even Dedue could have been talked down, but not Dimitri.

 Dimitri hadn’t been himself for a long while.

 Maybe he’d always been like that. Felix had been right, calling him a boar.

 “He would have killed you,” he repeated, stronger now, hugging her tighter. Sylvain could hear her breath, hear her heart beat like a frightened rabbit. She was alive. She was in one piece. She’d made it through. “You had to protect yourself.”

 “I could have injured him,” she mumbled, pressing herself closer as though to hide away from it all. “I could have knocked him out.”

 “Anyone else, sure, but not Dimitri. Never Dimitri.” Sylvain closed his eyes. Even before it all, Dimitri would never let himself get captured. Killed, sure, but never captured. “He’s too strong. Was too strong.”

 The was stung, burned on his tongue like an ember. Felix had been loyal. Dimitri had been a friend. They’d never be anything else anymore. They might never be anything but the two, angry bodies on the grass. It was hard to remember their smiles when all he could picture was their pale, frozen faces.

 “I should have tried,” she insisted, shoulders shaking as she cried. “I should have…I…he’s dead, Sylvain. Dead. They both are and I…”

 “I know, I know.” Sylvian stroked her hair, pulling back just enough to press a tender kiss on her forehead. Years ago, she’d done the same for him when he’d killed his brother; he wasn’t sure when he’d started looking at her differently, but he was certain the roots of it had been then. He hoped it brought her twice as much comfort as it had given him, this warmth, this forgiveness and love and gentle acceptance.

 She wailed, a wordless cry that sounded more animal than human. He remembered the maids talking about banshees and their mournful screams, and it had to sound something like this. Still stroking her hair, he let her cry it all out, his eyes closed so he didn’t have to see Dimitri or Felix. There was probably a better way to help. Mercedes and Annette had been good at it. He should have learned from them when he had the chance.

 He should have done so much more before this all happened, but he’d been barely able to help himself for years, let alone others.

 And now it was just them.

 No, not just them. Sylvain bit his cheek. That was what had caused this war in the first place, this stubborn belief that they had to stand alone. That was why he and Ingrid had left the Blue Lions in after all, for Claude’s vision of unity. There was Raphael and his hugs, Hilda and her jokes, even Marianne and her quiet companionship.

 He could try again. Better this time, in fact. Ingrid hiccupped and he pulled away slightly, still keeping her in the circle of his arms. Now that he was looking at her properly, he could see the cuts on her arms, the gash on her side. Small injuries, for fighting Dimitri, but injuries nonetheless. Sylvain knew every trick in the book when it came to convincing Ingrid to do something that was good for her, even if it was something as unrelenting as guilt.

 “Let’s go back to camp together,” he suggested gently, brushing her hair out of her face. Her puffy eyes, still red from her tears, started to slide away from his, to where Dimitri’s corpse grew colder with the passing minute. Before she could, he carefully cupped her cheek, forcing her to stay still. “We need to get patched up.”

 “But…Di…Dimitri and Felix,” she mumbled, not fighting him for once.

 “We can get them later.” Sylvain didn’t even have to try this time, he just smiled. She’d always been able to draw those out of him, even if she never realized it. “I’ll come back.”

 “Me…Me too.” Ingrid shook her head. “I’ll help.”

 He bit his lip before reluctantly nodding. There was time to argue about that later. “Okay. Can you stand?”

 She nodded. Sylvain wrapped an arm around her waist, slowly hoisting her up as he stood. Keeping his grip firm, he called for his horse. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to fly, so let’s take my horse, okay?”

 “Sure.” She sounded distracted, but he didn’t think much of it. With everything that happened, it was hard to focus. As his horse stopped beside him, he let go and quickly adjusted the saddle bags and straps. “You get on first.”

 Ingrid didn’t reply and when he turned around, she was beside Dimitri once more. Silently, he cursed himself as he ran back to her side. “Ingrid!”

 She didn’t respond, unbuckling her cloak instead. Gently, she spread it out over Dimitri’s body, covering him like she used to put blankets on them as kids, all tired out from practice. Leaning forward, she pressed a chaste kiss on his cold forehead. “Could you give me your cloak?” she asked, her expression unreadable.

 Sylvain didn’t hesitate before yanking what was left of his off and draping it gently on her shoulders. Ingrid shook her head, pulling it off. “It’s not for me.”  

 She moved a little further into the forest, to Felix this time, and tucked the cloak around him. Her fingers shook as she brushed his hair out of his face. Kissing him on the cheek, she whispered something he couldn’t hear before getting up.

 “Let’s go back.” Ingrid grabbed his hand now and this time he didn’t let go.

 “Yeah.” He didn’t ask her what she said. Sylvain had his own, private words for them, things he’d never repeat to anyone. When they reached his horse, he still kept his grip tight as he hopped on first. She raised a brow, the closest to a positive expression he’d seen so far. Not bothering to explain, he helped pull her up, settling her on his lap in a side-saddle manner.

 “I haven’t ridden like this since we were kids,” Ingrid commented, a little stiff as she looked at her dangling feet.

 “Not since you realized knights had to ride on their own.” He waited a second before asking. “Just this once?”

 “It’s silly.” Yet, she didn’t jump off, didn’t protest, just leaned against him.

 He released the breath he didn’t know he was holding as he wrapped his arms around her, taking the reins and urging his horse into a gentle trot. “That’s not a bad thing.”

 “No, it’s not.” She closed her eyes. “Thanks.”  

#sylvgrid #sylvain jose gautier #ingrid brandl galatea #claude von riegan #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #hilda valentine goneril #felix hugo fraldarius #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fanfic

[mandakatt]

Fire Emblem Three Houses Fic - Without you - Ashe Ubert/Felix Hugo Fraldarius

A/N: I got shown @badthingshappenbingo​ by a friend of mine, and requested my own card. 

One slot down, many to go!

Characters: Ashe Duran/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Sylvain Jose Gautier, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Dedue Molinaro, Mercedes Von Martritz Warnings: Missing Character, Presumed Dead, Injury, Blood and Injury, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort - I promise you, there is a happy ending! Word Count: 2517 Summary: The battle at Gronder field would be one that would haunt Felix for the rest of his life. Because after the smoke cleared, he'd realized that he'd gotten separated from Ashe...and that was a mistake that cost Ashe his life. And now, Felix must figure out how to go on without him.

“Hey, Fe…” 

Felix stopped on his way to the training hall, his head slowly turning to glare at Sylvain. “What?”

Sylvain blinked at him as he came to a stop before he gave him a gentle smile. “C’mon, don’t be like that. I just…” and he went a little wide eyed as Felix glared at him harder, almost angrily. “I just wanted to see if you wanted someone to train with today. That’s all.”

Felix took in a deep breath before huffing softly and looking back at the training hall. “Fine.” and without another word pushed his way inside. He moved to where he always kept his training sword before pausing as Ashe’s bow sat propped up against the rack. His hand trembled a little as he stared at it before he clenched his hand into a fist and angrily snatched his sword off the rack. He growled under his breath as he pulled it free of its sheath and tossed that to the dirt before turning his head to look at Sylvain. 

“Right then, I guess we’re doing this the usual way huh?” Sylvain gave him a cocky smirk as he picked up a lance then moved to take up a stance. “Come on then Fe...show me what you’ve got.”

“Stop talking!” Felix growled as he rushed at him, striking at him with such fury in swing that he could actually feel the lance almost rattle in Sylvain’s grip. 

It was a strike that Sylvain was used to, but damn if that extra oomph behind it didn’t surprise him. He quickly corrected his stance, countering with a strike of his own before he spun it, and managed to score a good hit with the shaft against Felix’s ribs. 

But if it hurt or not, Felix never reacted to it.

Felix moved back and went after him again, blow after blow rang out loudly in the hall, followed by Felix’s angry shouting at each strike, but honestly, Sylvain didn’t care. This was the first bit of emotion he’s seen from him in days. Ever since--

“Pay attention!” and Felix brought his sword around, striking him hard enough in the side that it almost knocked the wind out of him. 

“Ah! Fuck!”

“I said,  pay attention! ”

“I am!” Sylvain smirked at him, taking a step back to take up another stance. “I already managed to hit you once, that says something right…?”

Felix growled and rushed in again, though Sylvain could tell that he was growing more and more angry as his strikes were getting sloppy, and when they had to actually cross weapons once he noticed the dark circles under Felix’s eyes. He blinked at him then scowled. 

“Have you been sleeping…?”

Felix visibly tensed then growled, pushing him off. “I’m fine.”

“Fe--”

“Shut up Sylvain. I am fine.” Felix rubbed at one of his eyes before he huffed and took up another stance. “Just--”

“No, you’re not fine.” Sylvain interrupted, a scowl on his face. “Fe. Come on. You know he--”

“Do not say his name,” Felix snarled then suddenly charged in, grunting loudly when his sword bounced off the shaft of Sylvain’s lance. “Do not say anything about him! Do not tell me he would be worried! Do not tell me that he would tell me that I need to rest! Do not--” and he growled as his voice cracked as he rushed him again. “--Do not tell me that he would want me to take care of myself! He is no longer here. What he wants doesn’t matter anymore!”

Felix suddenly swung wildly, almost as if he’d lost the grip of his blade. Sylvain took a step back, dropped his lance and suddenly wrapped Felix up in his arms. 

“Let me go!”

“No,” Sylvain clung to him just a bit tighter. 

“Dammit Sylvain! Let me go!” Felix tried to swing at him but all Sylvain did was hold him tighter, his face buried in his hair at the back of his head. He snarled and squirmed only to cry out louder. “Get off me!”

“No.”

“Sylvain!”

“I said. No.” 

Felix growled, his entire form trembling as Sylvain clung to him, and he suddenly remembered that the last time Sylvain had held onto him in such ways was when Glenn--and it was like all the strength went out of his limbs. His sword clattered to the dirt as he hung his head. He felt his entire body tremble as his legs gave out from under him, and it was then he realized the noise he heard in the hall was a noise that  he  was making. 

He was sobbing so hard he could barely breathe. 

“I’ve got you, Fe. Let it out…” Sylvain said softly as they sank to the ground on their knees.

“If… If I had been there…”

“Shhh…” 

“I...every time I go to sleep. I see him. I’m so close but..I just...I  can’t --”

“Keep breathing Felix,” Sylvain said softly as he gently held him against his chest, lightly rocking him. “Keep breathing...” 

“...I can’t do this… I can’t… This nightmare has to stop…”

Sylvain looked pained for a moment as Felix continued to sob in his arms, only to realize when it got quiet that Felix had actually cried himself to sleep. With a sigh, he slowly scooped him up into his arms to carry him back to his room. 

“Sylvain?!” 

Pausing on his way, he gave Dimitri a little bit of a smile as the Prince came running up. 

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “He will be eventually anyway.”

Dimitri looked sad for a moment before he nodded his head. “Do let me know if there’s anything I can do?”

Sylvain gave him a gentle smile. “You’ll have to ask him when he wakes up but...yeah. I’ll try.” and he continued on his way. 

Once in Felix’s room he sort of gasped softly at the state it was in. He had to pick his way through the things that were laying haphazardly on the floor on his way to Felix’s bed before placing him gently in it, and covering him up. He knew if he woke alone that Felix would sort of shut down again, so…

“You do know there are other ways of getting me to clean your room, right?” 

Sylvain chuckled softly to himself as he started to pick up the floor. Books, and knickknacks that looked as if they had been thrown at the wall in anger, and he had to be careful to not cut his fingers on something that looked like glass, which might have actually been what was left of one of the cups from the kitchen.

He paused however when he heard Felix shift with a groan from the bed behind him.

“Hey…” Sylvain called gently as he got up from what he was doing and moved over to the edge of the bed to sit down on it. “Hi there.”

“Sylvian?” 

“We’re in your room. You kinda passed out after I hit you pretty good. Sorry bout that!”

Felix gave him a bit of a skeptical look but sighed as he slowly sat up, and leaned against the headboard. His head was absolutely throbbing, but he wasn’t sure if that was from all the crying he did, or if Sylvain had actually hit him and he didn’t remember. 

“I--”

“Yeah! Just a second,” Sylvain called cheerfully as he got up from the bed to answer the door, to find Dimitri and Dedue on the other side of it. “Oh! Well hello there Your Highness. Nice of you to come visit.”

Dimitri gave Sylvain a gentle smile before looking over at Felix. “I am sorry to interrupt, but, we brought you some tea, and...company if you want it.”

“I don’t.” Felix huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Aw c’mon Fe, don’t be like that. The least you can do is drink the tea that Dedue made you.” Sylvain gave him a gentle smile, and noticed that Felix looked at his room in surprise. “Besides, I told you that I was going to help you clean up today, remember?”

“...right.” Felix blinked as most of the mess he’d made of his room was at least straightened, things were put away, and it looked almost as if the room was the way it had used to be before---he sighed deeply then looked over at Dimitri, and Dedue. Then huffed. “Fine, just bring it in and leave it. Then leave…”

Dedue nodded gently and brought in the tray to set it gently on the night table by Felix’s bed. He said nothing as he simply poured Felix a cup, and added just a little milk to it, the way he liked it before passing him the cup and saucer, and Felix blinked at it. 

“...how did--”

“Ashe spoke of you fondly. You were quite the subject of many of our conversations. From what you would like to eat, to how you disliked sweets, to how you took your tea.” Dedue watched him quietly for a moment. “I believe that I have come to know you a little better because of that.”

Felix’s hands trembled enough that the cup rattled gently against the saucer and he had to hold it then with both hands to stop it from doing so. He set it down on his lap and sighed deeply. 

“....why bring that up?”

“Because,” Dedue said softly as a soft gentle smile pulled his lips upwards. “No one is truly gone if you remember them.”

Felix blinked and looked up at Dedue, his eyes wide in surprise for a moment before he realized that Dedue was speaking from experience. He, out of everyone here except for Dimitri, probably understood the loss he was feeling, and with a sigh he looked back at the cup of tea in his hands. 

“Oh! You like milk in your tea huh? That’s...I’ve never tried it. Is it good?”

“See for yourself.”

“Oh fr-from your cup?” Ashe blinked at him and timidly took it from his hands, to take a sip. He then blinked. “Wow...I see. The milk actually makes the pine taste a bit more subtle, almost sweet in a way. I learned something new today! Thanks Felix!”

Felix felt his eyes burn, and he brought one hand up to rub at one of his eyes with a knuckle, as he groaned. Crying wasn’t going to get him anywhere. It didn’t bring anyone back from the dead no matter how much you cried for them to come back. 

The dead were dead and that was it. 

Ashe…

Ashe wasn’t coming back.

He took a deep breath before slowly bringing the tea up to his lips to take a sip, the gentle warmth of it seeping into his bones from the inside. 

“Oh! Good morning Felix. I have your tea waiting for you!”

“So you’re really not into sweets huh?”

“Here, it’s a sweet that we used to make at the restaurant. Haha, don’t give me that look, I promise it’s not sickly sweet, but it goes great with tea. The tea you like..uh...specifically.” 

“See!”

“I’m glad you liked it. And of course, I’d love to make them for you again.”

Felix found himself for the first time in days smiling gently at the cup of tea in his hands, and it was then he realized that Dedue, Sylvain, and Dimitri hadn’t left yet. With a sigh he slowly looked up at the much larger man. 

“...thanks.”

“I am happy to assist.”

Dimitri looked a little relieved and smiled at Sylvain when suddenly a shout caused him to turn on his heel. 

“Your Highness!”

“What is it?”

“A group of Mercenaries have arrived, with someone in tow.”

Dimitri looked confused a moment before looking back at Sylvain and Dedue, then gently nodded his head. Felix had gotten up quickly huffing at the concerned look that Dedue gave him. 

“I’m fine.” 

The four of them hurried quickly to the gate, only to be surprised as the men from Duscur, those same men that had saved Dedue, came walking in. Though the last of them was slow to enter, as they were helping someone to walk that had a hefty limp, but Felix recognized that shock of silver hair anywhere. 

“Ashe?”

The men stopped as the silver haired man lifted his head. He had one eye shut as that side of his head was stained with blood, his right ankle looked pretty badly twisted, and he had his arm around his middle, staunching a wound at his opposite side. 

“H-Hey...s...sorry I’m late...I kinda...got held up.”

“Ashe?!” Felix called again, and when he saw that smile, he rushed forward, pushing through the group of men to get to him. His arms went around him gently, but tightly, a hand fisting in the back of his hair as the two of them sank to the ground, and he buried his face into Ashe’s neck. 

The tears had started again, but he no longer cared. 

“Ashe!”

Ashe laughed a little, giving off a soft wet cough as he clung back to Felix as best as he was able to. “Y-yeah, it’s--ah!”

Felix immediately loosened the grip he had on him to draw his head back and look him over. And it was then that he realized just how hurt Ashe appeared. “Mercedes!”

“I’m here!” Mercedes called back as she pushed through the crowd that had gathered, quickly coming to Ashe’s side. She smiled at Felix brightly as her hands began to glow with magic as she started to heal the worst of Ashe’s wounds. “Don’t worry. He’ll be fine.”

“S-sorry to have caused trou--”

“Shut up.” Felix snapped at him, and though his words were harsh the expression on his face was soft, so full of concern for the man in his arms. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, do you hear me?”

Ashe let out a bit of a breathless laugh, and a soft wet cough before he winced a little, then nodded his head. “Y-yeah, I promise.”

“Good. I’m going to make you keep it just like the one that idot Sylvain promised me.” 

“Hey! We were kids when we made that!”

“Yes,” Felix confirmed, but never took his eyes off Ashe. “And so far, you’ve kept it. Same as I will. The same as Ashe will. Right?”

Ashe smiled softly, then lifted his hand to gently cup Felix’s cheek. “Ye-yeah, I promise. For as long as I live.” 

“Good,” and Felix moved close enough to once more hide his face against his neck, but he made sure that he wasn’t in Mercede’s way. His voice trembled, as he softly spoke against his skin. “...please, don’t go where I can’t follow.”

Ashe’s hand moved to the back of Felix’s head as he closed his eyes and sighed. He’d made it back, he was home, and with a smile he promised him softly. 

“I’ll always come back to you, Felix. I promise.”

#Meraki #fire emblem three houses #FE3H #felix hugo fraldarius #ashe ubert #Ashelix #Ashe x Felix #sylvain jose gautier #dedue molinaro #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #mercedes von martritz #TW Blood and Injury #TW injury #Hurt/Comfort #Happy ending

[fandom-meanderer]

hi!! i really love your love triangles, but angst makes me too emo T__T maybe can you write Dimitri, Sylvain, and Felix liking f!reader, but surprisingly, reader likes byleth, and maybe they get together 5yrs later ? either byleth is fine, i love the both of them tbh

Yesss childhood friend shenanigans, ima set this post-timeskip, if you don’t mind

~

Dimitri watched as you ran around the monastery, helping as much as you can wherever. After the war, many people came flooding back to the gates of Garreg Mach for whatever reason, and because of, well, the war, the entire place was understaffed.

Truth be told, Dimitri always held a strong affection for you, even in your school days. You were always so diligent, so kind, and now that he thought of it, you were rather pretty as well, weren’t you? He barely noticed you tugging on his cape until you waved your hand in front of his face.

“Dimitri?”

“Oh, yes, um, what is it?”

“Oh, I was about to say that your coat is a bit torn, would you like me to fix it up for you?” Dimitri felt as though an arrow shot through his heart. That was Ashe, he’s so sorry, he was playing with Mellow, it didn’t go through tho thank god it just bounced off his wack ass armor. All Dimitri could do was nod as he removed it and handed it gently to you. “I’ll be sure to give it back as soon as I can, I just have to help with restocking the dining hall first.”

“It’s alright, (Name),” Dimitri watches you run off, the giant cloak in your hands looked to be spilling out of your grasp. “Good Goddess, I think I’m in love…”

Sylvain, meanwhile, watched you nearly trip and fall on your face as you ran into the dining hall. Good for him, though, he just happened to be there when you fell.

“Hey, (Name),” he smiles.

“Hi, Sylvain!” You laugh. “Thanks for catching me.”

“I’ll always be here when you fall for me,” he flirts. He can’t say that he’s not proud of the shade of red your cheeks were dyed in.

“Oh, ah, thank you,” you smile, completely not getting his obvious pass. Sylvain just pulls you up.

“Why do you have Dimitri’s coat?” Sylvain’s tone was a mix of curiosity with a bit of jealousy mixed in. Did you two get close while he wasn’t looking?

“Oh, it’s a bit torn, and I figured with everyone coming in I would fix it for him,” you explain. “I was just going to finish checking stock here before I ran to my room to fix it.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, I can do that,” Sylvain insists. He takes the coat from your hands before you had time to argue and walks out of the dining hall, debating whether or not to toss the darn thing into the pond. “(Name), (Name), (Name),” Sylvain clicks his tongue. He stands by the dock and thinks for a moment more.

Now Sylvain, on the other hand, as much of a skirt chaser as he can be, would gladly ignore any other woman if it meant even looking at you. Watching you bounce around the monastery with that cheerful aura you just radiated? Perfect. Outstanding. Wonderful. He wouldn’t take anything over that sight. You were his first dance at the ball those many years ago, you were his partner in battle for a time, and you were just damn perfect.

“You really shouldn’t be carrying around other men’s clothing,” he shakes his head. “I think I love you too much to see you holding this…”

Back at the dining hall, you have nearly finished your checklist when you came to the last item.

“Huh, did we run out of tomatoes already?” You ask yourself. You look up on the top of the shelf. “Oh, those must be it, right?” You squint your eyes. Now that you thought of it they looked more like Noa Fruits. You could probably reach that one, the one closest to the edge, right? Of course you can! You stand on the tips of your toes, holding onto another shelf on the cabinet for more support. Suddenly, you see a hand rush next to you and push the shelf back.

“What the hell? Pay more attention to what you’re doing, you idiot!” Felix barks next to you. You snatch the fruit that luckily fell during Felix’s sudden stabilization of the wooden fixture.

“Tomatoes! Check,” you finish your list and tuck the clipboard under your arm. “What can I help you with, Felix?”

Felix took a second to process what you just said. He quite possibly saved you from a devastating injury and you’re acting like you didn’t even realize it. Dammit, if he didn’t like you so much he’d punch you-

Wait.

What?

Did he just… Does Felix Hugo Fraldarius really have feelings for a clumsy, over-optimistic, angelic-eyed commoner?!

“Felix?” You look up at him and he looks the ceiling instead.

“Oh my gods, I can’t believe I love you,” he mumbles.

“What was that?”

“I said I can’t believe I helped you!”

As he walked out of the hall, he turned back and watched you walk off to Seteth, gingerly handing him the clipboard and giving him a thumbs up while he nods. Felix, if we’re being honest here, actually found your lack of personal safety rather endearing. There was just something about being able to run over and save you from whatever enemy then having you heal him right afterwards. Now that he thought about it, he really didn’t want you to be like that with anyone else, however selfish it may sound.

And at that very moment, all three of those love-struck boys looked up to the sky and thought to themselves the same exact thing.

‘Tonight, I tell (Full Name), I love her.’

And that night they did. All three of them. All at once. In the audience chamber. Because they all knew you were there to report to Byleth.

“(Name), I love you,” Dimitri said it first.

“What?! No! No, no, no, trust me, (Name), I can treat you so much better. Remember all those times when we fought together? Or the ball?!” Sylvain was definitely more desperate.

“(Name),” Felix caught your attention. “I can guarantee you that I would be a better choice than this boar and this idiot.”

You backed up against the wall, you really didn’t know what to tell them. All three of them were inhumanely tall and you genuinely felt a bit overwhelmed right now. Before you could stutter out an apology, an unlikely rescue occurred.

“(Name)? Where are you?” All three men whipped their heads back and their jaws dropped. Professor Byleth walked out of his office, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “You took my glasses and now I can’t see a damn thing…”

“Oh! You’ll have to find me to get them back!” You laugh. Sylvain looked between the two. Byleth squinted his eyes.

“What are you three doing here?”

“Well, um,” Dimitri stuttered. 

“No good reason,” Sylvain laughed awkwardly. Then, a sinister smile made it’s way up Felix’s face.

“Professor, you see, Dimitri and Sylvain cornered poor little (Name) and both tried to force their confessions on her,” Felix shrugged and shook his head. “I came running in because I had a feeling that they wouldn’t be too gentle with her. You know them.”

“Oh, shut up, Felix, you confessed too!” Sylvain shouts. Byleth sighs and moves next to you. He grabs his glasses and places them on slowly before turning his head towards you.

“Well, what did you say?” He asks.

“Oh, I didn’t say anything,” you frown. “You came in right on time!”

“That’s good, shall we go now?”

“Yup.”

“Wait, hold on, are you just going to leave us hanging?” Sylvain asks. You turn around.

“Oh, I’m sorry, but I think it’s best if we all stayed friends. I couldn’t date any of you anyways,” you explain. The room is silent for a bit.

“W-What… What do you mean?” Dimitri finally brakes the tension. Byleth intertwines his fingers with yours and holds you hands up.

“We’re engaged,” is all he says. Then, they noticed it. The glittering silver ring on your finger, and the emerald one on his.

“WHAT?!”

#Fire Emblem #Fire Emblem Three Houses #feth #fe3h #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fe3h dimitri #dimitri x reader #sylvain jose gautier #fe3h sylvain #sylvain x reader #felix hugo fraldarius #fe3h Felix #felix x reader #byleth #fe3h Byleth #byleth x reader #request #fe3h x reader

[silverselfshippingchaos]

How about "do you mind if we stay like this for a little longer?" for anyone you want? :0 (From the "touch-starved starters" post)

Thanks for asking, dear anon! I have a few ideas for this!

I present to you, Felix and Ash cuddles.

This one has spoilers for chapter 17 of Azure Moon, Dimitri's route, in fe3h. A few other characters *coughs in Sylvain, my very small platonic babe* make a tiny appearance too!

A few content warnings - slight blood, mentions of a death, hurt to comfort.

Felix felt weak. Felix hated feeling weak. It wasn't until now that he realized how exhausted he's been. You lost people in war, Felix knew that. But it hurt. It hurt so bad. It all happened too quickly. Just when he was beginning to speak to his father again, he left. Felix understood that it was for the good of the future, but his heart ached. It’s been so long since he’s felt this weak. 

Felix remembers the scene clearly. Too clearly. The scream of the king and his uneven sobs, the horror on Ash’s face and how she burst into tears... He felt like he was going to throw up. Even the Professor seemed shocked. Without a word, he fled as fast as he could. He couldn’t bear to be there for one more second. Father...

And that’s how he ended up here. On his bed, still in the clothing he wore to battle. Still covered in blood. He felt nothing but exhaustion. He just wanted to give up. Glenn? Gone. His father? Gone. He stares up the ceiling, laying down in a position somewhat similar to a starfish. I’m so sorry... Felix has so many words that he wished to say to his father. Felix would always preach about how the dead are dead, the living are living, and that there needs to be a separation between the two. Everything hurt, and Felix couldn’t find it in himself to believe that his father was truly dead. That he died in service of the king. Like his brother. Now it was just him left. All alone. 

Likewise, Ash was heartbroken. She had gotten fairly close to Rodrigue, Felix’s father, and had done as much as she possibly could to fix their broken relationship. She remembers the night after Felix and Rodrigue had their first small chat again after years. Without the harsh insults and the scarring words. And not just that. Ash had begun to look up to Rodrigue as a friend, perhaps almost even as a father. It brought her great joy that she had someone older and far more experienced at... just about everything to speak to when she needed it most. She couldn’t stop replaying that moment in her head - Rodrigue rushing to the king’s side, falling into his arms, and dying. It all happened too quick. She sighs, rushing out of her room, wiping the tears from her face. Where’s Felix?

She was stopped by a certain redhead, who seemed really concerned. It was Sylvain. She’s been rather close with him ever since she first enrolled at the academy 5 years ago. They got along exceptionally well, becoming fast friends. Ash was grateful to have him around, he was a great friend. And she was in no position to complain about his womanizing either, considering how hopelessly romantic she was. “Hey, are you... okay? I know he... was a lot to you.” He says quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “Need a hug? You look like you’ve been crying.” 

“I... I’m okay. Have you seen Felix? I’m worried about him... Haven’t seem him at all since we got back...” She says, wrapping her arms around him. She couldn’t care less about his cold armor right now, all she needed was just some comfort. 

“Felix... Right. I haven’t seem him either. He’s not at the training grounds, so I’d place my gold on his room or the rooftops. I tried talking to him earlier when you were...” He pauses, “sorting through your emotions. He was so... It’s been nine years since I’ve seen him act like that.” Sylvain gently strokes Ash’s dark hair, “It’ll be okay, you’re really strong. We’re here for ya, kid.” He smiles. 

She nods, unable to stop her lips from curling upwards. “Thanks, buddy. I’ll... go looking for him. I’m really, really scared. He left so fast. I barely noticed... He and Rodrigue had just started talking again too... I’ve never really had to lose anybody in my life before. It’s so... hard. Feels empty.” She mutters. 

“Unlike your mom last night, am I right?” Sylvain laughs softly at his own joke. 

Ash snorts, “Hey! That’s my line! And then again, you usually go after the grandmas, don't ya?” She says in between fits of laughter. Even throughout all of us, Sylvain still was ever the jokester, and Ash found comfort in that. She loved cracking jokes, and it’s what she did best, but with her best friend is when she could really pull out her, erm, not so church-approved jokes. When she was upset, it was always a dumb joke that made her smile again, and Sylvain knew that damn well.

 “Oh shut up!" He smiles, "I’m glad I could make you laugh, Ash. If you need to talk, you know where to find me. I’ll be at the stables, Horsey the Horse is probably hungry...” He sighs, giving her a small wave. Even he seemed heartbroken, and his easy smile didn’t quite reach his warm eyes like they always did. 

Ash nods, “Ya know, I’m still not over the fact that you named your horse Horsey...” 

“I couldn’t think of anything else, put a lid on it.” He chuckles, turning around and walking away. Ash couldn’t help but notice the small smile upon his lips fading away as he left. Rodrigue was always extremely kind to Sylvain, always approaching him with open arms. Especially throughout his childhood. With the torment of Miklan seeming never-ending, he was truly thankful for Rodrigue.

Ash takes a deep breath, brushing a stray piece of her black hair away from her face as she begins to make her way to the second floor of the dormitories. Her room has always been on the first. She recalls fond memories of sneaking out of her room in the head of night just to spend some extra time with Felix back when they were students. When there wasn’t a war going on. When their professor wasn’t the reincarnation of the Goddess. She still didn’t completely understand how in the hell that happened, but she knew better than to question it. 

She finds her way in front of the wooden door, completely shut. She takes her hands out of her pockets and knocks firmly. 

“Who is it?” Felix sounded so tired, so weak, his voice small and low. 

“It’s me. Just wanted to... check in on you. Can I come in? Are you okay?” Ash asks. I hope he’s okay. I’m really worried.

“... Come in.”

Ash lets out a sigh of relief and gently pushes the door open. She sees Felix and stops. He looked soulless and empty, his father’s lance next to him. He doesn’t bother to look up at her, but he scoots over slightly on his bed to make room for his girlfriend. 

“Hey, are you okay?” She says, cautiously walking towards him. He just shrugs. “I don’t know. I hate this feeling so much. I feel weak. It feels wrong to be upset because of how harshly I treated him, but...” He says, his voice lacking its usual venom. 

Ash nods. “I get where you’re coming from, but you have a right to feel upset. He is... was your father. It would be even more odd to not feel anything. Can I sit next to you?” 

He wordlessly nods. 

Ash sits down onto the bed next to him, making sure to keep some distance from him. All she wanted was to make him feel safe and understood. Just like how he has for her so many times.

He moves his gloved hand to rest on top of hers. She turns to him, eyeing him up and down. He looked like a mess. His hair messy, likely from him tugging at it, and his jacket still covered in the blood from battle. “Wanna take that off?” She asks, “I’ll wash it later. I’m sure you don’t like the blood on it either, huh?” 

He nods his head, removing his gloves and unbuckling the snaps of his jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders. Ash takes it gratefully and folds it, placing it to the side for later. 

“... Do you think that if it were me, he would do the same? I know I shouldn’t, but what if it were me instead of the boar?! Would father still lay down his life...?” He rubs his temples in frustration. “My head hurts... I need to go train soon, can’t let myself get lazy.”

She reaches over and grabs Felix’s hands. She’s surprised by how cold they are, considering how long they’ve been in his thick gloves. “Felix... you’re shaking. I’m not going to put words in Rodrigue’s mouth, but I want you to know that he loved you very much, okay? He talked about you a lot when it was just us. He said that he was proud of the man you’ve become. And you’re not training. Just take a break, okay? You’re shaking, exhausted, and kinda going through it right now. That’s okay and all, but you need rest.” Says Ash sighing, her eyes darting from his pale hands to his eyes, which looked tired. Too tired. Felix pauses, like he’s trying to process the information. His eyes drift to his father’s lance, now propped up against his desk. Then he looks at the pile of letters on his desk. He had begun rereading all the letters from his father not too long before Ash arrived. 

He sighs, “Fine then. I’ll rest. For now.” Ash smiles softly and squeezes his hand. He looks down at her. “You’ve been crying. Your eyes are doing that stupid puffy thing they always do.” 

Ash shrugs, “Yeah, but that’s alright. Don’t worry about me right now, I’m okay. But right now, I’m worried about you. You seem very... out of it. I understand why, I just wanna help is all. I wanna be here for you. You’re always there when I need it.” 

 “Thanks.” Felix says quickly, leaning his head onto her shoulder. He hesitates. “Can I... have a hug?” He says quickly, almost embarrassed. “Hey, of course you can!” Ash smiles, wrapping his arms around him. She gently removes the hair tie from his hair, careful not to tug anything. She strokes his blue hair, which was now resting against his neck. Felix buries his face in her chest, his arms wrapping around her so, so tight. She places a small kiss to the top of his head, still running her fingers through her hair. It always amazed her how soft it was, considering their current circumstances. 

She holds him tight, and soon enough, his whole body starts shaking, rattling with small sobs. He cries into her shirt, never letting her go for a second. She’s somewhat shocked. Ash has never seen Felix cry before. “P-please... Don’t leave me. I can’t lose anybody else.” He sobs, his voice uneven.

“It’s alright, Felix. It’s alright. I’m right here.” Ash says, gently running her hands up and down his back. He holds her close, sniffing. 

“Do you mind if we stay like this for a while?” Whispers Felix, looking up at his girlfriend, who was looking right back down at him. A small smile finds its way to her lips. “That sounds wonderful, Felix. I’m here for you, you can let it all out.” She says. Felix looks into her eyes, which were so gentle, so warm. Up close, he notices just how brown they are. They look so dark from a distance, but he finds himself fascinated by their chocolate color. She gently wipes the tears from his cheeks, ruffling his hair,

They stay like that for a long time, not having a care in the world except for each other. Felix eventually moves his head to her thighs, finding them to be rather nice pillows. He thinks about how much she’s grown these past five years, and how she’s the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen, and how he knows that this is where he wants to spend eternity in. Her arms. He feels warm inside. “Thank you so much.” He says, his voice no longer a quiet whisper. 

"I love you, ya know.." She smile, gently stroking cradling his cheek in her hand. He chuckles quietly, amber eyes focused on her, his tears long dry. "Me too.." 

"Oh?" She perks up, her usually playful smirk making an appearance,

"Well, I certainly hope you love yourself too. I mean, you are so gorgeous.." She holds his hand and plays with his fingers like how she always loved to do. They felt warm. 

He scoffs, but Ash didn't miss the tinge of dusty red upon his pale cheeks. "Flattery will get you nowhere." He softly smiles. 

She leans down, giving him a small kiss on his forehead and looks into his amber eyes. She’s glad to see him smile again.

She thinks back to him earlier.

Sylvain said that he hasn't seem him look like that since Duscur. 

She feels a pang of heartache. "Well, it clearly got me into your arms, hm?"

“And I’m damn glad it did.”

He still wasn’t completely alright, and neither was Ash. They were hurting. 

But they had each other. 

#oho this one was lots of fun dear anon! #i love him so much :( #anon #answered #me x the boys #i lowkey kinda like how this came out?? #touch-starved prompts

[crackimagines]

Digging the Dancing King (FE: Three Houses Short Fic)

The White Heron Cup is approaching the class of the Blue Lions. 

After careful consideration for their rep, the most logical choice comes to mind.

Felix.

------

Felix swung his sword down, then rapidly upwards at the dummy, making it swing violently back and forth.

“Hmph. Not fast enough...”

There was too much merriment going around. Everyone was excited about the Heron Cup and the Ball, yet did everyone forget about the Death Knight and Tomas?

It made him angry, but he couldn’t really do anything about it.

Only thing he could do was train for the next battle that was sure to come.

Meanwhile, the rest of the class were faffing about, trying to decide who’d be the best dancer, but ultimately it was up to their professor. Felix didn’t really care about all of this, but it’d be nice if they won. 

Mercedes would be a good choice.

Annette...maybe. Emphasis on the maybe.

As for Ingrid, Felix was sure that she would actually stab someone if she were chosen for something like this. She was more of a tomboy than anything.

“Huh...” He thought to himself.

For not really caring about this kind of thing, he’s oddly putting a lot of thought into this.

He heard footsteps approach him, he sheathed his sword and turned around.

“Professor.”

Byleth nodded with his blank face, which was all too common for him to have.

Still, there looked like something he needed to say.

“Did you need something? Psh, what? Am I the representative for our class? What an honor.”

Then, Byleth did something that made Felix’s blood run cold.

He smiled.

Blue Lions Classroom...

“I was joking damn it.” Felix sharply blurted out.

The rest of the class had gathered and were just as shocked as Felix to learn that he’d be the representative.

(Byleth) “Well, I wasn’t.”

(Ingrid) “Um...Professor, with all due respect-”

(Sylvain) “What the hell are you thinking?! Felix couldn’t dance to save his life!”

(Felix) “Up yours!-”

(Sylvain) “Hey, I’m trying to help you here, man! I know the last thing you wanna do is this!’

(Felix) “I...Ugh, I agree, Professor. I say this joke has caught me off guard, but-”

(Annette) “I’d say he’s joking but...”

Byleth’s face was the same one he used to kill bandits. It was anyone’s guess to tell what’s actually going on inside his head.

Whatever the case, this was some twisted joke he had done.

(Ashe) “I...don’t think he is.”

(Dimitri) “I-If I may why Felix? Surely Mercedes or Annette might’ve been-”

(Byleth) “It’s exactly FOR that reason, Dimitri. If we come in with the unexpected, we’re sure to catch everyone off guard and steal the votes.”

(Everyone) “...”

(Dedue) “I...am not quite sure that is how it works, Professor. As a mercenary, did you ever-”

(Byleth) “Nope. Which is why we need something fresh. Plus, Felix is pretty popular with the girls.”

(Sylvain) “Er, you realize it’s mostly GUYS in the audience, right? And that both houses have chosen GIRLS for that? I say knowing your audience would help us greatly.”

(Ingrid) “Seriously. PLEASE reconsider this, Professor! For the sake of our class!”

(Felix) “Listen to her, please.”

Felix was starting to sound desperate, but Byleth stood his ground.

(Byleth) “As professor, my choice is final. Felix, you will see me tomorrow morning for dance training.”

(Felix) “...Damn it. Fine, whatever.”

Byleth nodded and went out of the classroom.

As he left, he heard Sothis’ voice.

“I cannot BELIEVE you did that.”

(Byleth) You said I didn’t have the guts. I aim to prove you wrong.

“I said it in JEST! Are you this daft, or are all humans like this?!”

(Byleth) I don’t think you have a sense of humor.

"You know, I think spending time with these children have made you somehow even more sadistic!”

Back in the classroom, no one had any idea what to say. 

(Mercedes) “...W-Well, I’ll be sure to help you out, Felix!”

(Felix) “I swear, if you put ANY MAKEUP ON ME-”

(Ingrid) “How’d it come to this?”

(Dimitri) “Is this some sick twisted joke? The professor has damned us all!”

(Dedue) “That’s a bit dramatic but, I can’t exactly disagree...”

(Sylvain) “Well, I can’t wait to see your dancing lesson tomorrow!...Ugh, this is gonna be terrible for us...”

(Ashe) “Who knows? The professor has surprised us before.”

(Annette) “Ashe, I think you’re a bit too optimistic.”

The Day of the White Heron Cup

(Byleth) “Alright Felix, show them what your training was for!”

(Felix) “Ugh, good grief.”

Their training was....rough to say the least. Felix had NO idea what he was doing, and only learned a few steps if anything.

Oddly enough, he was feeling very prideful in his improvement. It’d help his footwork in fights at the very least.

(Dimitri) “I’d say good luck but...we’d need a miracle to see us through this.”

(Sylvain) “Knock em dead, Felix. Just...not with crap dancing.”

(Ingrid) “Have fun...I think?”

(Mercedes) “I have faith in you!”

(Everyone) “...”

(Mercedes) “...A-Alright, some faith....a little.”

(Ashe) “I don’t want to be rude, but...No, we shouldn’t be negative. If the Professor says you can do it, then you can do it!”

(Annette) “Yeah, down with the naysayers! Dazzle em, Felix!”

(Dedue) “Show them the pride of the Blue Lions.”

Felix smiled at the three’s comments. 

(Felix) “Eh, what the hell. Might as well enjoy it.”

(Byleth) “Class, know this. Professor Byleth does not know defeat.”

(Dimiri) “We’ll be sure to make you acquainted soon...” He said while sighing.

------

The contestants were:

Edelgard - Black Eagles

Felix - Blue Lions

Leonie - Golden Deer

The two girls were in their standard school uniforms while Felix was wearing a crisp black suit, standing out from the two.

Everyone was murmuring as soon as they saw Felix come up onto stage, which only fueled his desire to show them the error in their thinking.

...Wait, why am I getting THIS worked up about it? I don’t even want to be here! was his next thought.

And so, the moment of truth had begun. It was time to show the moves Byleth had taught him.

It was unlike any ball moves he had ever seen, it was odd yet mesmerizing.

Leonie’s and Edeglard’s bands were classic ball music, but Byleth had requested to use something specific for his music and granted the request.

And when they were in position, Felix was told to say the key word to start it off proper.

Felix sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Let’s get this over with.”

He snapped his fingers loudly, catching everyone’s attention.

“Boys, give me something with a beat!”

The man on the piano hit the notes so loudly, it caught the judges off guard.

Alois’s and Manuela’s eyes went wide while Shamir raised her eyebrows.

Felix saw Dorothea at the head of the band, about to sing. As soon as she said her parts, he struck the best pose he could. 

The Piano struck three notes, signalling everyone.

DUN DUN DUN 

(Dorothea) “Oh baby, baby!”

[you expected ABBA, BUT IT WAS ME! BRITNEY SPEARS!]

“I look so STUPID.” He thought to himself.

He went from pointing upwards to pointing at the crowd, nodding up and down with the beat of the instruments.

“Oh baby, baby, how was I supposed to know?

That something wasn't right here?”

He swayed his hips side to side, snapping his fingers in beat with her singing.

“Oh baby, baby, I shouldn't have let you go”

He spun around and struck a pose facing the opposite direction, his left arm pointing outwards while his other hand was behind his head, and right foot directly behind his left.

“And now you're out of sight, yeah”

He turned back to the audience, and began swinging in motion to her singing.

“Show me how you want it to be,

Tell me, baby, 'cause I need to know now, oh because!”

He then closed his eyes, and began acting as if he were repeating the chorus, extending his hand and folding it to himself dramatically.

“My loneliness is killing me (and I)

I must confess I still believe (still believe)

When I'm not with you I lose my mind

Give me a sign

Hit me, baby, one more time!”

As soon as the band finished, he finished by pointing at the crowd with a smile.

He could tell several girls screamed in glee, but he was far too busy thinking

WHAT THE HELL WAS THE PROFESSOR THINKING MAKING ME DANCE THIS! 

THIS ISN’T EVEN BALL DANCING!

Everyone in the audience remained quiet until someone started clapping. Followed by several people, then the entire room.

He and the band bowed, Felix taking his place next to Edelgard and Leonie.

The Blue Lions were stunned, not expecting this dance at all since they were prohibited from having their training have any witnesses.

When the judging came around, they all heard the instructor’s voices.

(Manuela) “I vote for...The Blue Lions! Their music was spectacular!”

(Sylvain) “...H-Huh...?!”

(Shamir) “I vote for...The Blue Lions. Their dance was the most original.”

(Ingrid) “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

(Alois) “Well, I think it’s obvious who the winner is! My vote is also this year’s winner. THE BLUE LION HOUSE!”

(Dimitri) “I-IMPOSSIBLE!”

(Felix) “...What.”

Everyone began clapping and cheering wildly, and the class could do nothing but stare.

(Dedue) “Oh my...”

(Mercedes) “Incredible...! I can’t believe it!”

(Ashe) “N-Neither can I...!”

(Annette) “WOOHOO! WE WON!”

(Byleth) “I told you class.”

Everyone turned around to face him, Byleth now smiling.

(Byleth) “PROFESSOR BYLETH KNOWS NO DEFEAT.”

(Dimitri) “J-Just how serious did you take this?!”

Felix walked up to the Professor and shoved him the trophy.

(Felix) “Never ask me for anything AGAIN.”

He walked off towards the training ground, hoping to forget this ever happened.

The several girls from the crowd following him disagreed strongly.

#shitpost #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses imagines #fire emblem three houses headcanons #fire emblem three houses #felix hugo fraldarius #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #sylvain jose gautier #ingrid brandol galatea #ingrid galatea #mercedes von martlitz #ashe duran #annette fantine dominique #dedue molinaro #byleth #blue lions #sothis #dorothea arnault

[bae-leth]

Now that we know Felix can be recruited, it got me interested in potential battle quotes between the childhood friends assuming they can all be recrutied to other Houses. I’m made myself sad writing this.

~~~~~~

Felix (vs Dimitri)

Dimitri: Ha! Well, look who decided to show himself!

Felix: …Dimitri…Huh. The years haven’t been kind to you.

Dimitri: Don’t. You think you can speak to me so casually? After you decided you were too good for the Blue Lions? Too good for your motherland?!

Felix: Hmph, so that’s all you’re going to say, huh? Fine. I never was one for words. Come at me, you foolish boar.

Dimitri: …Did I do something wrong…?

Felix: …I won’t answer that.

Dimitri: Then…Was I not a good enough leader…? …Was I not a good friend?! Will you answer that, Felix?!

Felix: …It was never about you…

Dimitri: …No…No, I suppose it never was…Fine. How about a spar, Felix? Let’s see who’s improved more over the years. A match to the death!

Felix: Have…Have at you.

~~~~~~~

Felix (vs Sylvain)

Felix: Sylvain.

Sylvain: Hey, if it isn’t old Felix! How have you been, bud?

Felix: Still wearing that same smile, huh?

Sylvain: Hmm? What do you mean?

Felix: Idiot, how long have we known each other? When your brother was disinherited. When he was killed. When you were congratulating me on transferring to another House. You think I can’t recognize that fake smile by now?!

Sylvain: Stop it.

Felix: Sylvain…

Sylvain: Dimitri-No…His Highness changed. But you left us, so you wouldn’t know the whole story, huh? Please, stop talking about the past. I can’t do it. I can’t act as if nothing’s changed. I’ll…I’ll never be able to face you otherwise.

Felix: …Very well. You’re just some knight from Faerghus. And I’m a random enemy soldier.

Sylvain: Yes. Yes, that’s all we are. That’s all…

~~~~~~

Felix (vs Ingrid)

Ingrid: You’ve come at last, Felix! And now, you shall face my lance!

Felix: You’re an official Pegasus Knight now?

Ingrid: …Yes…I’m…I lead the Pegasus Knights of Faerghus now.

Felix: Congrats. You’ve worked hard for years.

Ingrid: …It’s not too late. I can take you to Dimi-To His Highness. I’ll vouch for you, we can-

Felix: No.

Ingrid: Why not?! Do you actually want this? Are you happy with facing your own friends? Your own countrymen?!

Felix: Ingrid. We’re enemies now. Should a knight of Faerghus be talking like this to an enemy?

Ingrid: …She shouldn’t…She shouldn’t. Alright then. Felix Hugo Fraldarius. I, Ingrid Brundle Galatea, challenge you!

Felix: …I accept.

~~~~~~

Sylvain (vs Dimitri)

Dimitri: Sylvain. You’re here.

Sylvain: Oh, Dimitri…What have you done to yourself?

Dimitri: You dare to speak to me like that? We’re not friends, Sylvain. This is a battle. You will address an enemy properly.

Sylvain: …I never forgot. Even when I left the Blue Lions, I always…always…thought of everyone. Of all of you! I never thought-

Dimitri: No, you didn’t. But what’s done is done. Now pick up your weapon. Let’s get this over with.

Sylvain: I don’t want this. Why did things go so wrong?! I never wanted this!

Dimitri: And yet you came to me. Stop stalling.

Sylvain: …It’s all over, isn’t it?

Dimitri: …I suppose it is.

Sylvain: Okay…Okay…Okay, old friend.

~~~~~~

Sylvain (vs Felix)

Sylvain: Felix!

Felix: Sylvain. Have you gotten any stronger after leaving the Blue Lions? C’mon, let’s find out.

Sylvain: Stop! I didn’t come to fight, I wanna talk!

Felix: Do you? A little time apart and you forget I’m not much of a talker.

Sylvain: Felix, enough already! We shouldn’t be doing this. Please, just leave the battlefield. Or…Or come to our side, I’ll tell everyone you can be trusted. I’ll tell Professor Byleth that-

Felix: Optimistic, aren’t you? You should know if I ever did come over to your side, it’d be to kill every last one of you.

Sylvain: Felix! You can’t believe Dimitri is in the right. This isn’t the Dimitri we knew!

Felix: We’re not children anymore. We’re not students either. This is war. I…I know he’s gone. Maybe forever. But I won’t abandon him.

Sylvain: …Then…Then…I’ll give you a battle for the ages. Like old times. Right, Felix?

Felix: …Goodbye, Sylvain.

~~~~~~

Sylvain (vs Ingrid)

Ingrid: Oh…Sylvain, it’s you.

Sylvain: Ingrid, look at you. A radiant knight with a Pegasus of your own!

Ingrid: …Yes…

Sylvain: Ha, I always knew you could do it! You…You’re really…Oh Ingrid, please, don’t cry.

Ingrid: Come home…Won’t you come home? We’ve always been waiting. I’ve been waiting!

Sylvain: Ingrid.

Ingrid: Faerghus is where you belong! Why did you leave us? Did I scold you too much? Did I say something wrong? I swear, I’ll be more careful with my words from now on!

Sylvain: Ingrid, please. You didn’t drive me away. None of you did. I saw a good opportunity, so I took it. And now…now I have to live with where my decisions brought me, don’t I?

Ingrid: Yes. Yes, you must. As must I. As a knight of Faerghus, I must defend my land and liege from all threats…Including you, my dear friend.

Sylvain: Including me…Please…Forgive me one day, Ingrid.

~~~~~~

Ingrid (vs Dimitri)

Ingrid: Milord! Oh, milord, you-

Dimitri: A knight is bound by their oath, their honor, to loyally serve their liege. To stay by their liege’s side, to protect their motherland from all threats. The rest of the oath escapes me, but I’m sure you know it by heart, Ingrid.

Ingrid: …Of course I do. I’ve memorized it day in and day out ever since I was a child.

Dimitri: And yet, you decided to leave the Blue Lions. Decided to leave Faerghus. Abandoning your liege and your kingdom, for your own desires.

Ingrid: I never abandoned you, Dimitri! Faerghus is still my beloved home!

Dimitri: Look where you stand! Look who you stand with, who you’re fighting against! You have the gall to claim any shred loyalty to the kingdom?!

Ingrid: …Maybe you’re right. Maybe I have no right to speak of my homeland. But the truth remains that I hold nothing but love for Faerghus. And I treasure all my memories of you, Felix, and Sylvain. The four of us growing up together, always together.

Dimitri: Yes, we always were together. But we’re no longer naïve children. Either you will strike me down where I stand…or I shall send you crashing to the earth.

Ingrid: …I still hold my duties as a knight dear, Dimitri. Let us fight then. For as a knight my duty is to save my liege…even from himself.

Dimitri: …You fool…

~~~~~~

Ingrid (vs Felix)

Felix: Well, well, well. If it isn’t Lady Ingrid herself, the one who’d never shut up about knights and chivalry.

Ingrid: Felix. Please, don’t do this. We have no need to bear arms against each other.

Felix: You know, I always thought you’d be a textbook knight, dying rather than betraying your homeland.

Ingrid: Felix, please! Don’t speak of betrayal. Faerghus and all of you are so precious to me, irreplaceably so! But you must know that this can’t go on. Milord has gone mad!

Felix: Gone mad, huh? …He isn’t the only one…But leaving him to suffer through his madness alone is far worse than following his orders.

Ingrid: Is it?! Do you truly believe that, Felix? Isn’t it our duty as his friends, his childhood friends who know him better than anyone else, to stop him?

Felix: Shut up. You…You have no right to speak of our friendship when you’re the one who threw it away in the first place!

Ingrid: I’ve never thrown away our friendship. Not one day has ever gone by without me thinking of you, Dimitri, and Sylvain. Oh Felix, you’re better than this. You know this can’t continue…

Felix: No…It can’t. So raise your weapon and face me, Ingrid.

Ingrid: …Very well, my friend.

~~~~~~

Ingrid (vs Sylvain)

Sylvain: Ingrid. Well damn…I never thought it’d come to this. But…maybe that was me being stupid. After all, you left the Blue Lions. Of course, you’d…you’d…

Ingrid: Sylvain? Please, won’t you look at me?

Sylvain: I can’t. If I look at you, all I see is the Ingrid I grew up with. Not the enemy I have to take down.

Ingrid: Then, don’t fight. Talk to me. Leave this fight. We have no need to face each other, Sylvain.

Sylvain: …If I don’t fight, if I leave the battlefield, that means leaving Dimitri, His Highness. I can’t do that to him.

Ingrid: Dimitri must be stopped, Sylvain. He’s going too far. Too many are going to suffer if this is allowed to continue.

Sylvain: Is it that easy for you, Ingrid? To talk of taking down an old friend? Because…Because it isn’t for me. I’m so tired of losing people I care about. And yet, I have no choice…One way or another, I’m losing someone.

Ingrid: Sylvain…I never wanted it to come to this either…Is this hell? 

Sylvain: I guess it is…C’mon, Ingrid, let’s get this over with. I’ll accept whatever fate throws at me now.

Ingrid: Oh Sylvain…

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

notes from bae:

JHFSDKJFDSAKJFASKAFJKAFJKBAFAKJAJKFFAJKDFKJAH???? HELLO I HHHDSHFHDSHDSHJHJHJ??? HHHHIIIOOOPEPEDKSAJHASHJJFSA? YOU DO THIS TO ME???? YOU DO THIS TO ME??????? IEGUGHHGG IM JUST AN EGG AND YOU DO THIS TO ME????

#submission #gwhghgdsfghhKJSDGJJDKSJKS OH YMG OD WHEN I SAID YOU INSPIRE ME THIS IS WHAT I MEANT #OH GFHGHJGHJHJ #STOP IM LEAKING WATER FROM MY EEYYYYYYES #fire emblem three houses #fe16 #dimitri #felix #sylvain #ingrid #I WAS GOING TO REFER TO YOU BY NAME IN THE SCREAMING BUT I WASNT SURE IF YOU WANTED TO REMAIN ANON OR NOT SO LEMME KNOW #BUT I DSFHDFSJHFDS JUST KNOW THAT I AM DEAD!!! I AM DEAD!!!!!!!!!!! #HOW DO I COHERENTLY TYPE OUT MY FEELINGS I CANT #HHFDSFDSHHFDSHHHHH #fave

[palendromicdragonrider]

Turn Back the Hands - Part 3

“Okay,” Hilda grunted. “If anyone had said anything about climbing, I would not have made such an effort to look cute.”

Claude looked up at Hilda, the last of the trio to climb down the rope from Claude’s dorm room window. “If it makes you feel better,” Claude called up to her, “your ass looks great in that skirt.”

Hilda looked down and stuck her tongue out at him. “Respectfully, fuck you,” she said. Claude laughed. The girl may be lazy, but she had some spunk to her.

Beside him, Leonie tapped her foot restlessly, arms crossed over her chest to cover the low cut shirt that Hilda forced her to wear for the night. “I’m going to freeze in this,” she muttered for at least the third time.

“You’ll be fine. It’s a warm night, and dancing will certainly heat you up. If you really get that cold, you can borrow my cloak.”

Leonie huffed at him, but did not complain anymore. Claude watched as Hilda struggled the last few feet of the journey until he could help her the rest of the way down. “I hope you have a better way of getting back up there,” Hilda said as she readjusted her skirt. 

“I do. It’s called, ‘if you’re too drunk to climb back up, then you’re free to ask everyone else how they intend to sneak back in and hope you can copy one of their ideas’.”

“Such a gentleman. Remind me, why does everyone think you’re such a great schemer again?”

“It’s not about the plan,” Claude said, looping his arms around Leonie’s on the right and Hilda’s on the left. “It’s about knowing when to take credit, and when to keep silent.”

“Ah, so that’s you secret,” Leonie said with a laugh.

“Just promise you won’t tell,” Claude teased. He winked at her and she rolled her eyes with a smile on her lips. “Come on, girls. We don’t want to miss the first dance.” I hope that Sylvain and Felix are already there.

The three rushed into town as they heard music beginning to play. The town square was well lit despite the late hour, and young men and women were packed in, looking for dance partners. Hilda let go of Claude’s arm nearly the second they reached the square, as a handsome young man with blond tousled hair asked her for a dance. Leonie shrunk into Claude, a slight frown on her face. “Care to dance, fair lady?” Claude asked her with a grin. Leonie looked up at him, her eyes wide. “What’s with that look? I told you I was bringing you out for a good time.”

“I just assumed you were being polite.”

“Polite? Does that sound like me at all to you?”

“Not at first glance,” Leonie laughed. “Though I don’t think you’re as bad as you want people to think you are.”

Claude laughed, surprised at how insightful Leonie’s comment was. “In truth, I’ve been looking for ways to get to know all of our classmates better,” Claude admitted. “And I figured you would appreciate a good ol’ folksie dance night.”

“Is that what you think of me?” Leonie laughed. “That I’m a backwoods hill-billy, or something?”

“I think you’ve got more moves than you let on, that’s all I’m saying,” Claude replied with a wink. “Come on.”

He led Leonie onto the open pavement where other young couples were swinging each other around to the beat of the music, played by a pair of fiddlers and a piper standing on top of a makeshift stage. Claude danced with Leonie in circles, letting her correct his steps when he did not move in the right direction at a change in the songs. It was not the same music Claude was used to dancing to back home, but Leonie knew the first three songs at the first note. Apparently they danced to the same songs in her hometown. When the fourth song started playing, though, she halted, tilting her head to one side. “Huh,” she panted. “I’ve never heard this song before.”

“That’s because it’s a song from the Empire, not the Alliance,” Edelgard’s voice said. Claude and Leonie both looked towards her as she approached, her vampire-looking servant Hubert half a step behind her. “The town here tries to play music from all over Fódlan so everyone recognizes at least some of the dances. Apologies, by the way. I would have come over to say hi earlier, but the two of you looked to be having a good time. I did not want to spoil it.” Edelgard looked from Claude to Leonie. “I do not think you and I have properly met yet. You are Leonie, correct?”

“I am,” Leonie replied, a hint of caution in her tone. “And you’re Princess Edelgard.”

“Just ‘Edelgard’ is fine.” Edelgard smiled pleasantly at her. “I have seen you training with Captain Jeralt. You have incredible technique with a lance, and I also understand that you are an expert hunter.” Hubert looked to Claude as if questioning why his precious princess was wasting her time with such idle chatter. Claude shrugged, having no answer himself. Beside him, Leonie blushed and laughed nervously.

“Please, I just do what I need to survive.”

“Don’t be so humble. You have a talent that others envy, embrace it,” Edelgard said. She turned back towards Claude, handing him the drink in her hand. “Hubert and I were going to dance for a song or two, but we have a table saved in the corner over there. You two look like you could use a break. Sit down, drink, relax! We’ll join you later.” Her eyes were icy with intent. Claude looked to where she had gestured and noticed who her table companions were. He smiled at her.

“Sounds like a plan. Enjoy your dance!” he beamed. He took Leonie’s hand and led her through the crowd of people toward the corner table, not taking his eyes off of Sylvain and Felix.

“So,” Leonie began when they were out of earshot. “Edelgard knows who I am.”

“Yeah, it appears that way,” Claude responded absently.

“I think she just wanted to impress you,” Leonie said. Claude looked at her with a furrowed brow. Seriously, what was with all of these girls thinking there was something going on between him and Edelgard after one civil discussion? He did not understand romance in Fódlan.

“Nah, we’re just trying to be more pleasant with each other after the mock battle,” Claude told her. Not necessarily the truth, but not wholly a lie, either. 

“Right,” Leonie replied curtly. They were nearly at the table. Sylvain and Felix both had mugs in their hands. By the way Sylvain was swaying, Claude was certain he was drunk. Even Felix looked like he was barely holding himself together, much to Claude’s surprise. Beside them was a girl with blonde hair pulled back in a loose braid. Claude had seen her hanging around with the two and them and Dimitri before, but he could not quite place her name. Irma? Edith? He was sure it would come to him.

“Your majesty!” Sylvain slurred. “Come to join us for a drink?”

“From the looks of things, I have a lot of work to do to catch up. And don’t call me that. I’m not a prince of Fódlan.”

“Apologies for the morons,” the blonde girl said. “Don’t let their current appearance fool you. They’re both lightweights. Finish the drink in your hand and you’ll be caught up enough. Oh! Hi, Leonie.” She smiled suddenly. “I didn’t take you as the kind of girl to hang out with the riffraff.”

“Ouch!” Claude protested.

“Claude just dragged me along. This isn’t normally my scene.” Leonie explained, ignoring him.

“Mine, either,” the blonde girl replied, looking pointedly at Sylvain, “but someone has to be the babysitter. What do you say we leave the children at the table and grab a drink ourselves?”

“Sure,” Leonie replied. She unlaced her arm from Claude’s and patted him on the cheek. “Thank you for the dance. I’ll be back soon.” The blonde girl stood up, and the two left together. Sylvain looked like he wanted to join them, but standing did not seem like an option. Without any other options, Claude sat down.

“I’ve seen her around before, but I don’t think I’ve ever met—umm—“

Sylvain perked up, as if suddenly realizing Claude was there. “Who, Ingrid?”

Claude snapped his fingers. “That’s it, yeah.”

“What about her?” Felix asked almost lazily, taking another drink from his cup.

“She grew up with you guys, right?” Claude asked. He took a drink as well, figuring the conversation would not go his way if he did not appear casual enough. The last thing he wanted was for it to get back to Dimitri that he was interrogating his childhood friends for potential dirt on him. “The two of you, Ingrid. . . And Dimitri, right?”

Felix scoffed. “Yeah, the five of us were inseparable as children.”

“But there’s only four of you,” Claude corrected.

“That’s right,” Felix muttered. “Only four now. . .”

Sylvain glared at Claude and gestured for him not to broach the subject any further. It piqued Claude’s curiosity, but that was not why he was there. He took another drink.

“It’s amazing that you guys have stayed so close over the years,” Claude began again. “I don’t think I have any close friends from my childhood the way you guys do.”

Sylvain laughed, and his head swayed back and forth. He was definitely drunk. “It’s prob’ly more accurate t’say we’re still stuck with each other. Right, Felix?”

“Shut up,” Felix replied. 

“Exactly!”

Claude laughed. If anything, the two seemed more like bickering brothers than friends. But perhaps that was why their friendship lasted so many years. 

A serving girl came by with a new round of drinks. Felix offered to pay, and Claude thanked him. He was near the bottom of his cup, anyway. Claude smiled at the girl as he took the new cup from her. Another drink.

“Who was tha’ girl with you, Claude? Was that Leonie?”

“Hmm? Oh, umm yeah. It was.”

Sylvain leaned over the table as if to look for her, though by then she was long lost in the crowd.

“She’s a babe when she s’not in a school uniform,” Sylvain said. “Who knew she had tits hiding under there?” Claude grunted in reply while Felix rolled his eyes. It was going to be a long night if Claude could not get Sylvain’s mind off of girls. “Come t’think of it. . .” Sylvain added. He pointed a limp hand at Claude. “Your professor’s hot, too. Why’d we get the old guy? S’not fair. . . Even Manuela woulda been nice to look at—“

“Sylvain, shut up,” Felix said. He elbowed Sylvain in the ribs, which only seemed to piss him off.

“No, you shuddup! I have a question for Claude-y boy, here.” He leaned over the table, looking Claude in the eye with a surprising amount of sobriety for one who reeked so strongly of booze. “Rumor ‘round the church s’that Byleth had first pick o’ the houses. And she pick’d the Golden Deer for. . . What, you? What makes you so fuckin’ special, pretty boy?”

“It must be my charming demeanor,” Claude replied with a forced smile. This time he took a long, long drink.

Sylvain laughed loudly, slamming his fists on the table and causing Felix’s drink to spill in his lap. “Son of a—“ he muttered. 

“That is true,” Sylvain continued, unaware of his friend’s irritation towards him. “You may be a sneaky bastard, but you have more pers’nality than Edelgard and Dimitri put together.”

“This conversation is getting ridiculous,” Felix muttered. He stood up, swaying slightly “I’m going to find something to dry my pants. Claude, do me a favor and watch the idiot, will you? Ingrid will probably be back soon.” 

“Sure thing,” Claude said as Sylvain muttered “Asshole.” The table was silent for a moment after Felix left. Claude’s head was starting to rush. He had not drank alcohol in months, not since moving to Fódlan. And even then, he was never known for having the strongest tolerance. “So. . . I’m surprised that Dimitri is not with you guys tonight.” Sylvain cocked his head to one side.

“Dimitri s’not here,” he said. “Went back to Faergus for a couple o’days.”

“Why?”

Sylvain shrugged. “He didn’t say. To visit his uncle, maybe?” He tipped his mug over and frowned as it was empty. “Why d’you ask?”

“Just curious,” Claude mumbled half-heartedly. He was reaching the bottom of his cup, as well.

“Dimitri prob’ly wouldn’t come anyway. He would say it was ‘dishonest t’sneak out here and betray the—the trust of our instructors,’ or some shit like that.” He was still shaking his mug, as if it would magically make more alcohol appear. Claude fought the urge to groan aloud. Whatever Edelgard wanted him to hear from Felix and Sylvain, he was not going to get it out of them that night. Sylvain was too drunk and Felix was too, well, Felix. He looked over his shoulder towards the people dancing, but he could not spot her. Was she actually going to come back, or did she say that to manipulate him into sitting with the two boys when she knew they were inebriated?

The whole thing was frustrating. Claude did not know why he was even out that night. Someone had threatened his life no more than three days earlier, and here he was, drinking, out in public. Like a fucking idiot. All because a prissy, high-and-mighty future emperor had told him to. What a fool he was. Perhaps it was Edelgard who should be referred to as the schemer instead of him.

Claude caught a glimpse of pink hair on the outskirts of the dancers. Hilda was walking around by herself, peering at each person as she passed. Shit, Claude thought. It had been nearly an hour since he had seen her, and she was probably looking for him and Leonie. He waved his hand in the air to catch her attention. A mixture of relief and annoyance swept over her face when she saw him. “Good grief!” She exclaimed. “What kind of guy walks into a party with two hot girls on his arms, then no less than an hour later is found drinking with a loser in a corner? No offense, Sylvain. You look nice in that shirt, by the way.”

“Thank you. Is’sat a new necklace?”

“It is, I’m glad you noticed.”

Claude was sure he was delusional at that point. “I’m sorry,” Claude said to Hilda. “Edelgard was supposed to—“

“Edelgard left, hon,” Hilda said, cutting him off.

“Of course she did!” Claude huffed.

“So. . .you were supposed to meet her here tonight?” A mischievous grin crept over her face.

“No way!” Sylvain laughed. “You and Edelgard are hookin’ up? Well I s’pose they do say opposites attract. . .”

“We are not hooking up!” Claude ran his hand through his hair. This was going to get out of hand. “I was hoping to have a little peace between me, her and Dimitri to simmer down any house rivalry after last month. No more, no less.”

Sylvain put up a hand to his mouth as if to whisper to Hilda. “Does he es’pect us to believe this bullshit?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Heyyyyyyy,” a voice interjected. Ingrid and Leonie approached with Felix in tow. He was carrying two cups in his hands. Leonie’s cheeks were flushed, and her arm was linked with Ingrid’s. “No angry words from you, sir. You were the one who dragged us out here to have fun, right?”

Felix set one of the cups down in front of Claude. “Thank you for your service,” he said, inclining his head towards Sylvain. Claude wondered if the guy had a sense of humor after all.

“Leonie, have you been drinking?” Hilda asked.

“Ingrid introduced me to what’s know as a ‘shot.’ It’s like liquid fire, down down down your throat! Then you feel allll warm and loose,” Leonie giggled, shimmying her shoulders ever so slightly.

Ingrid giggled in return, leaning on Leonie’s shoulder. She was looking straight at Claude. “It’s a good way to stay warm in the mountains,” she explained. “The alcohol is stronger than in a beer, though, so you have to pace yourself.”

“I know what a shot is,” Claude told her. Though he doubted the ingredients were identical, hard alcohol was common in his homeland. 

“Well, I didn’t know until tonight,” Leonie said. She chuckled to herself. “I had three before Ingrid told me I wasn’t supposed to have that many so fast.”

“Goddess, girl!” Hilda said, guiding Leonie to a seat. “Felix, could you be a dear and get her some water?” Felix nodded blankly and walked away. “I do not want to be having to take care of you if you get plastered.”

“Ah, don’t worry about me,” Leonie said with a wave of her hand. “I’ll be fine, I just need to sit for a while.”

“You can sit on daddy’s lap,” Sylvain offered, slapping his thighs.

“No,” Ingrid asserted.

“Why? Jealous?” Sylvain asked.

“Please. I’ve seen what you will put your dick in. I don’t want your diseases.”

“Diseases?” Leonie asked. Ingrid’s eyes widened.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie. Just keep away from the pig with the red hair.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

“When’d this become Pick on Sylvain Night? I just wanted t’come and have a dance or two, maybe meet a nice girl—”

“Let’s go dance then, Sylvain,” Hilda offered. “Come on, you should know this song.”

“Thank you,” Ingrid mouthed to her. Claude wondered if there was some secret code that all women knew across all nations on how to handle guys like Sylvain. Hell, he thought with a chuckle, they probably have a code for how to handle guys like me, too.

“Y’know what,” Sylvain said, stretching his arms above his head. The motion made him sway. “I would love that.”

Hilda took his hand and led him around the table so he wouldn’t fall on his face. Before leaving, she leaned over to Claude and whispered. “You and I are going to have a long talk tomorrow.”

Claude finished his third drink, listening absently to Leonie and Ingrid as they discussed lance techniques and how they wanted to spar with each other later in the week for practice. Claude tried not to pout, but that was exactly what he was doing. Ever since that note was slipped under his door, he felt like he was spiraling. Who in this part of the continent would want him killed, and why? Did it have to do with his past? The fact that he was the future leader of the Alliance? As much as he tried to be the easy-going guy everyone thought he was, the threat of being assassinated was occupying too many of his thoughts. It was going to get him killed.

Like it got Marianne killed.

That was another thing. Why the hell did his brain seem to think that Marianne died on the battlefield? Marianne was alive. Marianne was safe. So why did he have this memory—phantom though it was—of her dying in his arms? Of him failing to protect her?

To top it all off, there was Byleth. Strong, terrifying, stoic Byleth, who chose to teach his house for reasons that Claude could not comprehend. Who equally frustrated him and amazed him. Who betrayed him by not telling him the truth about the bandits that he had killed two nights ago. 

What was he going to do about her?

“You look like you could use a shot yourself, my friend,” Ingrid said. Claude looked up at her. They had never spoken before that night, but he could have sworn that she was reading every thought in his head like an open book. Ingrid patted Leonie on the shoulder. “Stay here, okay? Felix is on his way with water for you.”

Leonie smiled and waved them off, mumbling something that Claude did not quite catch. Ingrid took Claude’s hand and led him along the buildings towards a nearby tavern. They passed Felix along the way, who gave Claude a threatening look, then kept moving.

“What was that about?” Claude asked. 

“Probably me,” Ingrid admitted. “Felix can be a little. . . protective.”

“Are you guys—you know, together?” Claude asked.

Ingrid laughed, but her eyes looked sad. “No,” she said. “Nothing like that.”

“Then why—“

“I was engaged to his brother. He died,” Ingrid said quickly, not looking Claude in the eye. “You might as well know. It will get around the school sooner or later.”

“Gods,” Claude said. “I’m sorry.”

Ingrid shook her head. Thin strands of her blonde hair came loose from her braid and fell along her face. “You didn’t know.” She walked up to the bar counter and ordered the drinks for him and herself, coins to pay already in the tavern owner’s hand. Without question, he pulled out two small glasses and poured a clear liquid into them. Ingrid handed one of the glasses to Claude and raised her own. “What shall we drink to?”

“To your fiancé?” Claude offered. Ingrid considered it for a moment, then nodded her head.

“To Glenn,” she said, clinking her glass against his. They both swallowed the contents of their glasses. Claude’s throat felt like fire and the fumes from the alcohol filled his nostrils. Yet he was surprised to find that it went down smoother than he expected. No, this was not the same stuff he would drink back home at all. 

“May I ask what happened?” Claude asked. “Feel free to tell me no. I have a curious mind, but I won’t prod if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t mind,” Ingrid said, despite crossing her arms across her chest. “Have you ever heard of the Tragedy of Duscur?”

“It was when some rebels from Duscur killed the king of Faergus four years ago, right?” Claude asked. 

“That is true, but a select group of other nobility were also targeted for assassination. One of them was Glenn. . . He and his men were slaughtered.” Ingrid shook her head. “It feels so long ago sometimes, but I still remember his smile clearly. And his laugh. He was a good man, down to the core. I don’t know if I will ever fully move on from losing him. Nor will Felix, or Dimitri for that matter.”

“Dimitri?” Claude asked. “Was he close to Glenn?”

“I—he. . .” Ingrid sighed, holding herself tighter. “Prince Dimitri was there when Glenn was attacked. In fact, he was the only survivor.” She spoke the last few words in whispers. “I think that makes him feel guilty,” she confessed.

“I had no idea,” Claude breathed. The rushing in his head was stronger now than it had been earlier. His face felt warm. “Let’s go back outside. I need some air.” Ingrid nodded and led him out the door. The music was still playing, but the songs were slower, softer now. More romantic than lively, Claude thought. “What makes you think Dimitri feels guilty?”

Ingrid shrugged. She was watching the couples hold each other close as they swayed to the music. “He hasn’t been the same since the incident,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong, Prince Dimitri is a great guy. One of the most sincere people I know.” She looked Claude in the eyes. “But when you’ve known someone for as long as I have know him, you can spot the changes. His eyes look more strained. He looks around corners and behind bushes when he walks past them. He takes his training more seriously, he jabs harder and faster. His sparring partners leave with more bruises and scrapes than before.” Her eyes widened suddenly, as if she realized what she was saying. “I’m sorry. I think I’ve had a little too much to drink.”

“I think I have too,” Claude confessed. In truth, he was struggling to keep himself upright. Ingrid was giving him the exact information that he expected to obtain from Felix and Sylvain, but none of it would stick in his memory if anyone put another drink in his hands. “Do you want to head back to the monastery?”

“I shouldn’t leave Sylvain and Felix alone,” Ingrid sighed, looking in the direction of their table. “Those two boys can get into quite a bit of trouble if nobody is watching them. Especially when they’re drunk.”

“True, and I have Hilda and Leonie with me, as well. . .” Ingrid looked up at him and smiled. 

“I can take care of them if you want. You look like you could use some rest.”

“Thank you,” Claude said. He hesitated. “Only—“

“What?”

“I don’t know how to sneak back in,” Claude confessed. “I sort of climbed down a rope, and I don’t think I could get back up again without snapping my neck.” Oh, the irony, he thought, grateful that Hilda wasn’t nearby to call him a hypocrite. 

Ingrid laughed, covering her hand with her mouth. “Claude von Riegan, grand schemer, too drunk to get into church.”

“I have a way back in,” Claude protested. “It just involves putting myself in too much danger under the circumstances.” His argument only made Ingrid laugh harder. She pulled out her purse and handed him a couple of coins. 

“A word for the wise,” she said with a wink. “The Gatekeeper is a bit of a pushover. He won’t get you in trouble if you stop and chat with him for a while.”

“What are the coins for, then?”

“In case anyone else is standing guard with him. Having a bribe handy usually helps.”

“I didn’t take you for the sneaky sort,” Claude said with a grin. 

“Hanging out with Sylvain has taught me a thing or two,” Ingrid said.

“Regardless, I owe you one,” Claude said. He winked at her before swaying off towards the end of town. He cut through the dancing couples, which Claude realized was a mistake, as he ended up bumping into one or two people on his way out. “Sorry, sorry,” he said. He felt lightheaded, and his feet did not want to cooperate with him. Must be because the path isn’t well lit, he told himself, but he was hardly convinced. His limbs moved more like jelly with every step. He kept his head down, focusing on getting one foot in front of the other. Looking up made his vision blur, anyway.

“Greetings, Claude!” The Gatekeeper called as Claude reached Garreg Mach’s entryway. “Aren’t you out past curfew?”

“I am,” Claude confessed, forcing himself as upright as he could manage.

“And. . . Have you been drinking?” The Gatekeeper asked, a bit of the usual pep out of his tone.

“I have,” Claude confessed again. He wondered why he did not seem to care to hide anything. The Gatekeeper was such a nice guy. Always in a good mood. Claude decided he liked the Gatekeeper.

“You know that’s against school rules, even if you are old enough to drink.” Old enough? What was considered ‘old enough’ to drink in Fódlan, again? 16? 18? 21? It hardly mattered to Claude in that moment.

“I do know,” Claude told the Gatekeeper, his words starting to slur. “But I went anyway. And do you know why, Mister Gatekeeper? Because of the false promises of a woman.”

“Oh, I’ve been there before, sir,” the Gatekeeper said sympathetically. “It’s best not to take it too personal. I’m sure things will be better between you and her tomorrow.”

“You really think so?” Claude asked.

“Absolutely, sir.”

“Well, I don’t. But I appreciate your optimism. You’re a good guy, you are.”

“I do my best, sir!” The Gatekeeper beamed. Claude squinted at him. It was hard to see the man’s face in the dark. Especially with the wall behind him tilting in such an annoying manner.

“Are you going to tell on me to the professor?” Claude asked.

The Gatekeeper shifted from foot to foot. “Oh, I suppose not,” he finally said. “I’ll let you off with a warning this time. No doubt your hangover will be a good enough punishment in the morning, anyway.”

“Thank you,” Claude slurred. “You’re a good guy. No! A great guy. You really are. Have a good night, Mister Gatekeeper.”

“You as well, Claude!” The Gatekeeper saluted Claude as he passed. Claude hardly noticed. He was just grateful there was nobody else as at the entryway to scold him. The Gatekeeper was such a nice guy. Claude decided he was going to learn his name in the morning. He stumbled to the left, past the fishing pond and the cafeteria, towards the stairs that led up to his room. It took much more effort to climb them than usual. By the end, Claude practically felt like he was crawling. 

The wooden boards creaked with every step he took down the hall. When he approached his door, Claude heard the rustling of papers in the wind. Dammit, he thought. I forgot that the window was open. Hoping none of his books or homework had flown out of the room, he opened the door. 

A figure clad in black stood above his bed, a decadent knife in their hands. Their face was covered by a mask, so Claude could only see their light-colored eyes when they turned towards him. Claude froze in the doorway. He was unarmed, he realized. The masked figure lunged at him. Claude ducked out of the way, falling to the ground. He scrambled towards his bed, reaching for the place where he kept a knife hidden. The figure stepped on his arm, pinning it in place. Claude grunted in pain. The figure’s knife came down on him again. He caught the blade with his hand, wincing from the sting as his flesh tore open, and kicked the masked figure in the shin. They stumbled backwards, giving Claude the chance to grab his knife and rise to face them.

“Do us all a favor and die!” The figure shouted, lunging at him once more. Claude deflected the blade, then jabbed his hand holding the knife upward into the assailant’s ribs. The figure grunted, and stumbled backwards towards the window. Claude shoved them, and they fell out of the opening. Claude’s stomach lurched as he heard the thud of their body hitting the ground below. He leaned on his bed frame to steady himself, but he puked regardless. The night was silent. Either no one heard the encounter Claude just had with the assassin, or they were too afraid to leave their rooms. Not that Claude would blame anyone for that. He wished he had not entered his room. He should have stayed in the village with Leonie and Hilda. He should have danced the night away and dealt with the consequences in the morning.

A gust of wind blew more of Claude’s papers off of his desk. Claude jumped from the movement, afraid that someone else would come through the window for him. That was when he saw it: a second note, as carefully folded as the one in his pocket. Only this one was folded to hold the form of a wyvern. With his good hand, Claude shakily picked the note up. It took considerable effort to open it, in part due to the skill in which it was folded and in part due to his inability to use his left hand, which he clutched to his chest to keep from dripping blood onto the floor. When the note was at last opened, Claude read its contents with hardly a breath. 

Death has come for the traitor.

The note was not meant for him, he realized. It was meant for whoever found his body later that night, or the next morning. If Claude had not gone to the party, had he been asleep in his bed. . .

The thought made his stomach turn again. He coughed and gagged, but nothing came up. Tears ran down his face. Tears of frustration. Tears of fear. Tears of anger.

Something in Claude forced him to stand. He stumbled back to the stairs, down and to the left, stalking in a not-so-straight line past the lower-level dorms, seeking the person who slept at the end. Light could be seen from the cracks in her door. She was still awake. Claude leaned against the wall and pounded on the wooden frame.

Byleth opened the door.

“Claude?” she asked. “What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Heya, Teach. May I come in?” Claude asked roughly.

“I think it would be highly inappropriate—“

“Good,” Claude said, cutting her off. He pushed past her and closed the door behind him. Byleth opened her mouth to protest until she saw him in the light. 

“Oh, my goddess!” she gasped. “What happened?! I must get Manuela—“

Claude stepped between her and the door. “No. Nobody else must know,” he asserted. “I don’t. . . I don’t trust anyone else.”

“Okay,” Byleth replied cautiously.

Claude extended his wounded hand towards her. His arm was beginning to stiffen. Frankly, he was surprised that he could still stand. “Will you help me with this? I’ll tell you everything that happened after.”

Byleth nodded. She retrieved bandages and a salve from her desk and tended to the wound wordlessly. Claude watched her work, finding that the silence gave him the opportunity to lower his heart rate and collect his thoughts. He wanted to still be angry with her, but in this moment, all he felt was gratitude.

“Are there any other injuries?” Byleth finally said, fastening the bandage to his palm. 

“My arm might be bruised from being stepped on, but otherwise no,” Claude told her.

“Are you sure? Your shirt is covered in blood.”

“It’s just from my hand.”

“Will you let me look anyway? Please, just to ease my worry.”

Claude nodded numbly. He raised his arms to let Byleth lift his shirt. His heart began pounding again as she pressed against his abdomen, his ribs, checking for any injuries that Claude already knew were not there. The fight had not lasted long enough for that. . . Byleth’s fingers lingered on his skin, just for a moment, then she lowered his shirt again. She had a pensive look on her face. When she finally looked up at him again, she said, “You reek of booze.”

“I know,” Claude said. 

“Did you sneak out to go to that dance in town?” 

Claude did not realize that she would be aware of the town’s festival at all. “I did,” he admitted.

“Is that how this happened? Claude, I swear, if you got into a drunken brawl with someone—“

“I didn’t,” Claude cut her off. Byleth looked at him with an intensity in her eyes that he had only seen once before. Claude was not sure if it was the adrenaline or the alcohol, but he was sure that she was ready to fight him as well. She did not speak, only waited for his reply. “I overheard your conversation with Rhea,” Claude told her. He cursed himself silently. That was not what he had intended to say, but the thought appeared in his head, and. . . Out his mouth it came.

“Yes, Seteth notified me of that,” Byleth replied, her tone hard and icy.

“And you can punish me all you want for that,” Claude told her. “But I think you and I need to do some leveling here.” Byleth’s brow lowered, though in confusion or anger, Claude could not tell. “You told me the other day that you picked me—I mean, the Golden Deer, because you did not think I could lie to you, correct?”

“Among other reasons, yes.” Reasons you are no doubt regretting now, Claude thought.

“Then I don’t think it’s fair that you chose to lie to me.”

“Claude, I never—“

“Yes you fucking did!” Claude’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to say that. I’m sorry. I just. . .” Claude sighed. With no other choice apparent, given how his mouth was failing him, he pulled out the note in his pocket. He had not let it leave his person since he first found it. But now, he handed it to Byleth. “You should have told me about the bandits,” he said. Byleth carefully took the note from his hand. “You should have told me that they were the same ones who tried to kill me the night we met.”

“Claude,” Byleth whispered, her hands visibly shaking. “This is a death threat.”

“It is,” Claude said, surprised by how calm he suddenly sounded, speaking of his own death. He handed Byleth the other note as well. “This was in my room tonight. It was supposed to be found after— After. . .” He took a deep breath. His stomach was threatening to heave again. “After I was found murdered in my sleep. Which is likely what would have happened had I not snuck out tonight.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I found the killer in my room.” The words hung in the air between them. Byleth did not ask where the killer was now. Being raised as a mercenary, odds were that she already knew the answer.

“And you think this assassination attempt is connected to the bandit attack?” Byleth asked, her eyes glancing over the second note.

“It could be,” Claude said. He placed his hands over his face. “I received the first note just before we left on the mission. If whoever was trying to kill me had been a member of the church, they could have given our house the mission hoping that the bandits could finish the job.”

“You think someone in the church is trying to kill you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know!” Claude said. “That’s my point! Who here would try to have me killed?!”

“And label you a traitor,” Byleth added. Claude fell silent. That. . . He had a few suspicions of why he could be seen as a traitor. Some of them for completely opposite reasons from each other. But. . . No. He was not ready to tell anyone about that. Even Byleth. 

“Probably just a ploy to distract people after my death,” he said weakly. He frowned, feeling tears well up in his eyes again. “Nothing has made sense this week. I have had my life threatened, for reasons I do not know. Then there was that whole thing at the Red Canyon, with Marianne—“

“Marianne?” Byleth asked.

Claude stopped himself short. “It’s nothing, Teach,” he said.

“Claude, if it has something to do with this attack, maybe I can help you.”

“It doesn’t,” Claude told her. He stubbornly wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “At least, I don’t think it does.” Byleth sat next to him on the bed and pat his shoulder. Claude sighed. “I have this. . . Memory that isn’t real. That the last bandit who attacked us managed to kill Marianne before I could kill him.” He looked at Byleth, whose eyes were filled with concern. “I see her alive and well, and I feel guilty regardless. I remember her lifeless body in my arms, I remember looking into her eyes and seeing nothing there. I know it isn’t real, but—“

“It is real,” Byleth said. 

Claude looked at her. His heart pounded in his chest and his shoulders shook. Byleth avoided looking at him, keeping her eyes on her hands that now rested in her lap. “What do you mean, Teach?” He could barely utter the words. “This isn’t funny.”

Byleth took a deep, ragged breath, then sighed just as shakily. She turned her body towards him, but still did not look him in the eye. “I told you to hurry towards me,” she whispered. “I was relieved to see you safe, both of you. When you were first separated from the rest of us, I had feared the worst. So I was eager to get you by my side again. Where I could keep you safe. . . You did not see the bandit, and neither did I. He leapt down just after you passed his hiding place in the rocks. . . You may have been too late to save Marianne, but so was I.”

Claude was shaking violently. He could hardly wrap his brain around the words his teacher was saying. “Marianne. . . Did die?”

Byleth nodded numbly. She clenched and unclenched her fists in her lap. “I could not live with that guilt. I figured you could not either.”

“So you—what? Magically undid it all? Turned back time?” Claude asked sarcastically. He was laughing, more due to hysteria than finding humor in the situation.

“That’s exactly what I did,” Byleth admitted. Claude pulled away from her.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am, though,” Byleth said. At last, she looked him in the eyes. Claude saw fear and confusion swirling together. But there was no hint of deception. “The night we met—“ She paused to steady her breath. “I should have died saving Edelgard. I blocked her from a blow while exposing my own back, as a bandit came down on us with an axe. Just before it connected with my spine, I felt time. . . Slow. Then stop. I suddenly found myself in darkness, standing face to face with a girl dressed in clothes from another age—I do not know who she was. Who she is.” Byleth seemed suddenly agitated at having to make the correction. Her whole body was tense, as if she was struggling with herself. Claude found himself subconsciously reaching for his knife. “She offered me. . . Her. . . Assistance. A gift. The ability to turn back time. I don’t understand this gift, how it works or why she offered it to me, but I used it that night to save myself, and I used it again the on our first mission in order to save Marianne.” Byleth rose suddenly. She started pacing back and forth, her fists still clenching over and over again. Claude gripped the knife tighter. His teacher was usually so calm and collected. Claude was not so sure he liked this side of her. “No one is supposed to have any memories of what happened before,” she muttered to herself, gripping her hair. “It’s supposed to be a slate wiped clean. . .” She stopped pacing, turning suddenly towards Claude.

“What are you getting at, Teach?” He asked cautiously. The door was still closed, but he was between it and her. And he had height and speed on his side. . .

“I’m sorry,” she confessed. “But I’m not ready for you to know all of this, yet. I hardly have enough answers for myself, and I cannot have this information getting out to anyone. Not the other students, not my father, not Rhea. . .”

Fear gripped Claude as Byleth slowly walked towards him, hands raised slightly. He leapt for the door, but Byleth got there first, blocking his way. She swiped the knife from his hands and threw it out of his reach. Clutching his face in her hands, she stilled him. “I like you, Claude, and I am sorry to do this to you. I promise you that I will tell you everything one day, when I have all the answers that I need for myself. And I promise that I will help you find your killer. You can trust me, Claude. I promi—imorp I .edualC, em tsurt nac uoY .rellik ruoy dnifuoyplehlliwItaht—

#fe3h turn back the hands #fe3h claude #fe3h fanfic #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #claude von riegan #claude x byleth #claudeleth #bylaude #bylaude fanfic

[ayma-nidiot]

The Ride - Sylvix fic Chapter 26

Also on AO3.

Chapter 26 – Surprises, Surprises

“So… Remind me how I ended up being the bridesmaid of honour?” Ingrid pouted the entire time Annette, Mercedes, and Dorothea tended to her appearance.

“You and me both.” Cyril happened to walk by. “How I ended up as the ring bearer, I will never know. I’ve hardly even spoken to the lucky couple today.”

“That’s because Rhea and our new archbishop trust you,” Annette replied with a smile.

“And you, my lovely Ingrid, are you really surprised?” Dorothea continued to braid Ingrid’s short hair. “Not only were you the first one to find out about their relationship, but you’re also the best friend of them both.”

“Whatever. I just think you three are using this wedding as an excuse to douse all the women with makeup.”

“The flower girl thinks she did a good job!” Flayn, with floral barrettes and even rosier cheeks, gave Ingrid a thumbs up as she walked by. “Say, are we going to get started soon? I heard there will be a lot of fish dishes at the reception. Which of course is half the fun.”

“There’s just one problem… We’ve got a couple of late guests.” Mercedes thought as she heard two men shouting outside. “Ah, here they come now!”

The late guests in question sped right past the women and straight to Sylvain’s quarters. “Hey! Where’s the man of the hour, huh?”

“You mean one of the men of the hour,” Sylvain corrected. He was embarrassed not just at his father’s late arrival, but also at his behaviour. It didn’t suit someone of his age. “No, let me guess why you’re late… It’s because of the pretty women around the monastery, isn’t it?”

“No… It’s um… because it’s been a while since I attended the Academy, and I had to ask for directions.”

“In other words, it’s because of the pretty women around the monastery.” Even though the margrave still acted like a womanizer all these years, Sylvain couldn’t ever really be mad at him. Sylvain bowed at the waist to Felix’s uncle. “Duke Fraldarius, it’s an honour to meet you. I am Sylvain Jose Gautier, the son of Margrave Gautier.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about you from my older brother before he died. Thank you for taking care of my younger nephew all this time.”

“Speaking of which, where is the blushing bride… er, groom?” Margrave Gautier asked.

“You’ll see him soon enough…” Sylvain got up as the bell of the Goddess Tower rang. Before he stepped onto the stairs, he looked up the tower and the golden sunrise backdrop. “And he will look wonderful.”

An hour later, Dorothea had just finished styling Felix’s hair into a low bun, letting a few strands hang at the sides. Annette and Mercedes stood back to look at the traditional Fraldarius clothes they worked hard to put on him. “Aww, you look so handsome! Sylvain is soooo lucky!” they squealed in unison.

“Okay, I’m handsome.” Felix started walking hastily to the Goddess Tower. “I’m handsome and very late for my own wedding. Ah!”

“Felix, watch out!” Ingrid tried to warn as Felix tripped on his cape. “Oh!”

A 10-year-old boy saved Felix from an embarrassing face plant. “Hey mister, are you okay?”

“Yes, thank you.” Felix knelt at the boy’s level. He could tell from his clothes and appearance that he was a common boy from Fraldarius. “You saved me, young man.”

The boy just now noticed Felix’s regal attire. “Hey, are you by chance Felix Hugo Fraldarius?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, man, this is the best day ever!” The boy happily jumped up and down. “Mom and Dad used to tell me all kinds of stories about you and what an awesome soldier you were!”

“They did?”

“You bet!” The boy did a few air punches. “They told me one time that you killed a boar with your bare hands.”

“Oh, that was probably just some gossip from your friends.” Felix chuckled, and was surprised when the boy didn’t laugh back.

“I… didn’t really have many friends growing up. When my mom and dad died, all my classmates thought it was because they had enough of me.” The boy began to cry. “I never really had any kind of cool parental figures after my parents’ deaths, either. I… had to live on my own. You were really the only role model I’ve had.”

“Well, I’m about to change that for you!” Felix declared proudly. “There’s going to be a really cool wedding at the Goddess Tower, and I’d love for you to come. There will be lots of yummy food and fun games. And there certainly won’t be any of those mean bullies that you’ve met.”

“Really?” The boy not only stopped crying, he lit up.

“Of course!” Mercedes took the boy by the hand while giving Felix a sidelong stare. “Now come, you don’t want to be late like a certain someone.”

The sun had arisen completely now while the birds fled from their previous hiding places. A spacious crowd gathered under the balcony of the Goddess Tower as Flayn tossed flowers from there. Mercedes couldn’t contain her excitement at the wedding about to commence. “Aww, I should have put some concealer on him at least…”

“Maybe you’ll find a chance to if you visit Fraldarius,” replied Ingrid, lifting Felix’s long cape off the ground while he walked.

As he stepped out from the shade, Felix shielded his face from the sun and the oncoming doves with his arm. Even as he walked to the balcony, he could hardly look at his soon-to-be husband in the eye.

Sylvain brushed aside Felix’s bangs and spoke softly, “Hey. Don’t be shy now of all times; let me see your beautiful face.”

Byleth, the newly appointed archbishop of the Church, grinned at this adorable display as she gestured for silence from the excited crowd below. “O holy Sothis! We stand before you today to ask for your blessings upon Sylvain Jose Gautier and Felix Hugo Fraldarius as they become joined in marriage. May you shower them with many years together, filled with love, light, and fortune. May their homelands become more prosperous with each passing day as the people will grow to respect them.”

Byleth’s conclusion of her speech prompted Sylvain to begin stating his vows. “I have lived a life full of unsavoury tendencies. I thought that I could never find true love because of my Crest. I thought that it was my only redeemable quality. But the day I met you, I started to believe that maybe, just maybe, I really do have worth. I’ve grown to love myself – and you – in all these years we’ve known one another. I’ll protect you with everything I have; this I swear.”

How am I supposed to top that? Felix had rehearsed his vows several times but at that moment, his mind drew a blank. “I… don’t have a way with words like you. People never forgot to remind me of it, and for the longest time, I didn’t care what they thought of me. What need for pretty words have I, a swordsman so dedicated to his training? It took all the practice in the world just to prepare me for this moment… But for me, it was worth it, to let all of Fódlan know how much I love you. It was worth it to be able to tell you that I will cherish and protect you for as long as I live.”

After a short pause, Byleth continued, “Do you, Sylvain Jose Gautier, take Felix Hugo Fraldarius as your husband?”

“I do!” Sylvain answered with a wink as he put his family ring on Felix’s finger.

“And do you, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, take Sylvain Jose Gautier as your husband?”

“I do.” Felix did the same, and there was no shyness in his voice now.

“Then by the power invested in I, Byleth Eisner, archbishop of the Church of Seiros… I now pronounce the two of you spouses for life.” Byleth gave Sylvain a wink and whispered, “Go on, hotshot, give him a big kiss.”

Don’t need to tell me that, Professor, Sylvain thought as he clasped the back of Felix’s head and kissed him for a long time.

“Aww!” The ten-year-old boy from earlier cheered, along with other monastery residents from the ground. “So this big wedding was for Felix, huh?”

Felix finally broke the kiss gently and now faced the crowd. “Oh, and I thought I’d like to take this opportunity to make an important announcement, particularly to my fellow citizens of Fraldarius. I accept the title of the Duke of Fraldarius… and so does my husband.”

“Whoa…” A few citizens were surprised, but most appeared to accept it.

“But wait…” A young man from Gautier spoke up. “Then who’s going to inherit House Gautier?”

Sylvain expected and feared for this topic to come up, but he didn’t want to lie to his people. “I pass that title to my brother Miklan.” Sylvain turned to his best man. “That is, if he is willing.”

“What?” The mention of Miklan’s name sparked whispers throughout. “He’s alive?”

“Yes.” Miklan turned around. “Though at times I don’t think I deserved to be… I am glad to be now, if only to atone for what I have done. If at any time the people think I don’t deserve this title, I will willingly step before a jury, and you may do what you will. But all I ask is this chance to gain your trust.”

“Miklan…” Margrave Gautier hadn’t seen his son in such a long while, not even after the Battle of Enbarr. To make sure that his elder son was not an apparition, he ran as fast as he could up the Goddess Tower’s stairs to get a good look at him.

Miklan didn’t expect this to occur, and didn’t really want it, either. He shifted uncomfortably before saying, “H-Hello, Father. It’s been a while.”

“You’re… alive.” The margrave’s voice sounded void of emotion. “How?”

“It’s a long story.” Miklan secretly brandished his Crest. “So, um… about the title-”

“I can’t say I’m 100% comfortable with it yet, but if Sylvain approves, then I will approve too.”

“I’m… um… glad, I guess.” Miklan could look at his father now, and noticed the margrave shedding a few tears.

“Oh, haha… Don’t mind me. I’m just… hoping… that we can at least try to get along as a family. I’m glad to have the chance.”

“Aaaand here come the waterworks!” Sylvain took the both of them in for a group hug, spurring many members of the crowd to also cry. Just as he was getting caught in the family bonding, he noticed a young black-haired boy standing just inside the shadow behind the balcony. “Oh? Who might you be, young man?”

“Ah, he’s a citizen of Fraldarius,” Felix cut in. “He actually saved me from damaging my ‘pretty face’ earlier.”

“So what brings you here?” Sylvain knelt down.

“I just… wanted to say to Felix that… Congratulations.” The ten-year-old boy grinned. “You’re right about having fun. I’ve already met a lot of really nice kids just now. I’m thankful.”

Felix pondered a while before asking the boy, “Young man, what is your name?”

“I’m Remy, sir.”

“How would you like to live with Sylvain and I?” Felix gave a quick glance to his husband for approval, which Sylvain readily gave. “We will give you the life that was stolen from you too soon.”

“I can have a family again?” Remy started crying tears of joy. “I… I… I would love to!”

“Oh, quit your crying!” Sylvain chuckled as he carried the boy, letting the crowd see him. “Everyone, I present to you Remy, the third in line to Fraldarius’ throne!”

“Aww, right!” Remy did a little victory pose, getting a huge confidence boost from the approving crowd. “Look out, world, I’m going to be a great soldier just like Papa!”

After the crowd had died down, and the wedding festivities had already started, Sylvain and Felix descended the stairs. Sylvain wasn’t surprised that Dorothea had caught the bouquet Felix had thrown, and now she bragged that one day she would be with her “beloved Ingrid.”

“Sylvain?” Felix took note of how silent Sylvain had become after they got back to the ground level. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Sylvain watched as Remy played with his new friends from the monastery. He was especially friendly to an 8-year-old Gautier girl and her 1-year-old sister who just started learning how to walk. The two older kids flew a sewn-up doll around, much to the 1-year-old’s amusement. “I’m just… I don’t know, I didn’t take you for the type to want kids someday.”

“Surprises, surprises.” Felix smiled as he gripped his husband’s hand. “That kid has been through a lot… I figured that I’d give him a fresh start. A new life.”

“Maybe this is wishful thinking, but… I hope we will live our lives in sheer happiness, for years without end.”

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #sylvix #sylvain x felix #fanfiction

[yukiwrites]

Getting Back Together

Thank you so much for the patience and support as always, @breeachuu! I hope you like it!

Summary: After five years of loneliness and anxiety, Wolfram discovers that Byleth had woken up from her Slumber and had headed to the Monastery. The day they had promised to meet again when they were younger had finally come, so now the former classmates all flocked back together to fight for the Kingdom.

Commission info HERE and HERE!

__________________________

Wolfram felt the icy grip of fear encroach him from inside. Byleth was nowhere to be found -- thought that wasn’t even the worst part.

He couldn’t feel her, either. It felt very much like that time whence she was thrown into a portal by Solon; it was as though she didn’t exist. The Blood that had been emitting its constant energy throughout the years… it simply wasn’t anymore.

“No, Wolfram, calm down, maybe,” he took a shaky breath as his eyes darted from one side of the dark cave to the other, “maybe she’s just confused after waking up from the Slumber. Mother said that we shouldn’t wake a dragonkin from one because we don’t know the state of mind they’ll be in…”

The half manakete quickly made excuses as his breathing became more and more uneven. His body shook, though he couldn’t even pay attention to it at the moment, what with his mind being so preoccupied.

If he was to look for her, then he had to be quick about it -- dawn was just about to break so he would lose the cloak of the night to shield him and his wings from leering eyes. Perhaps it would be better to fly on Aquilo to be safe.

Breathing deeply, Wolfie made up his mind to do what he could do at the moment instead of despairing. Look for her. Be with her. The Heart of Immortals had finally woken up from its Slumber so he had to be beside her to fulfil his mission.

… Of course, Byleth had turned into a special existence for him after all these years as well, so it wasn’t just about the mission. He had to help a valued friend in need.

Besides, Dimitri was back at the Monastery as well. If all else failed, Wolfram could still reunite with his friend and they’d plan what to do next together.

“Together…” Wolfie murmured as he nodded to himself in the darkness before running out of the cave with a steeled resolve. He had gotten used to solitude during this exile, but it wasn’t as though he enjoyed it.

He was a boy who loved to be around people first and foremost, after all.

The moment he exited the cave to call for Aquilo so they could watch from the skies, Wolfram sensed something pulling at him from the Monastery. It was something hard to explain, like he had walked to the wrong direction once he gave his back to the mountain; like something, not unlike a string, had made his steps heavier as long as he went against it.

Wolfram gasped, looking up as he blew his whistle to call for Aquilo.

It was the Blood!

Well, not entirely, anyway. It felt too drowsy to feel like the Blood, but since it was a presence so akin to his own though it bore a significant difference he couldn’t quite pinpoint; Wolfram was sure it was the presence of the Blood.

He had been right, after all! The Heart of Immortals was truly in a confused state after waking up from the Slumber! 

As the first lights of dawn broke, Wolfram got on Aquilo’s back, flying at full speed towards the place that had been all but a shell of what it once was; towards the only place that he had called home outside of his own world.

To the Monastery!

Huffing, Wolfram made use of all of his heightened senses to scout from the sky, still finding it difficult to pinpoint the Blood’s exact location. He could hear the sounds of fighting from multiple sources -- perhaps more ruffians had broken in after Dimitri had cleared out the first few that had gotten in his way -- but he couldn’t see through walls, so he would need to land eventually to get a closer look.

A voice not too far from his spot at the sky made Wolfie steer Aquilo in its direction out of pure reflex, however.

“Why… Why are you here?”

It was faint, almost like a whisper, but it was unmistakingly Dimitri’s voice. 

Had he found Byleth?!

“Maybe that’s really the right direction! I can feel the fog around the Blood clearing…” Wolfram said aloud, habit he had cultivated even more during these years of solitude. As he approached the remains of a garden, he saw some familiar faces. “Wait, those are…!”

Ashe, Annette, Mercedes… and Byleth. There were more presences all around them so he couldn’t be sure of how many of those were hostile or friendly, but to see the faces of those he had missed for so long, finally within his grasp…

Wolfram’s eyes itched with tears before he even approached them to help with the bandit problem.

“Hey, Wolfie’s here too!” Annette waved cheerfully, forgetting that she was giving away her position to the enemies all around.

“Annie, shh!” Mercedes pulled her friend’s arm, taking her behind a wall.

A fight against looters and robbers certainly wasn’t the time to feel as elated as Wolfram felt at that moment, but he couldn’t help smiling from ear to ear before drying his tears. Puffing his chest, he focused on the task at hand so he could properly hug all of them later.

The most impressive part was how more and more of his past classmates showed up the longer the battle went on. Ingrid, Felix, Sylvain, Dorothea, Caspar, Linhardt and even Bernadetta…

By the time they all gathered together, it felt as though they could simply sit down and wait for Byleth’s lesson to begin -- they were basically all accounted for!

Wolfram covered his face with both hands to sniffle silently as the grown-up faces of his treasured classmates one by one entered into view.

A strong arm around his neck made Wolfram bend down in surprise, being almost choked in the middle of the incredible strength behind the shorter stature.

“Yo! Still crying as always, huh, Wolf?” Caspar grinned as he tightened the embrace, patting Wolfram’s chest with such vigor that it should be called ‘manhandling’ instead of ‘patting’.

“C-Caspar…” Wolfie hiccuped, his chest wringing in emotion. Byleth was awake, his classmates were flocking together… it felt as though all the loneliness he had felt so far was a lie.

There were so many things he wanted to do. So many things he wanted to ask.

He wanted to shake Byleth’s shoulders and ask her how in the world she had woken up so suddenly; how did she get back to the monastery in the exact timeframe he was away… How did she feel, why did she need to go into a Slumber… So many things.

He wanted to ask each and every one of his classmates how the war had treated them; he wanted to hug them and cry in their arms; he wanted to hold Dimitri’s hand to help him out of the dark place that seemed to have taken over inside his mind.

But he was overwhelmed -- with his own feelings and emotions, yes, but also with the amount of people talking all around him: they were asking each other how they’d been, what they had been doing and how in the world they all managed to come together after five years of war.

However, the answer they most wanted to hear was Dimitri’s. He had been sentenced to death right after the war started, so having him stand there in their midst was surprising to say the least, especially to the ones who had been looking for him all this time.

Blinking the tears away, Wolfie remembered what the merchant had told him some weeks (or years?) ago: people from Duscur helped him escape, hadn’t they?

“Dedue.” Dimitri answered simply, the weight in his voice making Wolfram’s hairs stand on end instead of bringing him solace.

Noticing the somber tone, Byleth cocked her head to the side, “what happened?”

The prince scowled as his bangs covered more of his good eye. “He’s dead. He died in my place.”

A low murmur ran across the classmates as Gilbert nodded solemnly, speaking something or other about sacrifice or the war. Honestly, he could’ve started talking about baking for all that was worth -- Wolfram had stopped listening.

A buzzing sound started to ricochet inside Wolfram’s head, getting louder and louder the more he struggled to breathe. It got so painfully loud to the point of Wolfie having to hold his head with both hands as his breathing shook.

Dead? Dedue was?

They barely had had the time to properly forge a friendship.

He had been Wolfram’s first roommate and the one who opened Wolfie’s eyes about Dimitri’s inner struggle. Even though he was a man of few words, it simply meant that every single thing that left his lips was worth listening to. To think that that admirably loyal man was… That he had given his life to-

He owed Dedue so much. So much.

Trembling, Wolfram didn’t listen to a single word said during the meeting, or what was decided after it.

It was only after Caspar shook him with enough force to make his brain bounce inside his skull that the half manakete managed to blink and focus on his friend.

“Are you back? I was about to call Linhardt to take a look at you.” The shorter man frowned slightly, worried about the lack of color in Wolfie’s face.

Looking at Caspar made Wolfram suddenly aware of his surroundings again: he felt the morning air; heard his classmates’ voices and their steps as well as the ruffling of leaves all around them. It was like he had taken his first breath in a new world after a long Slumber.

Was he- was he about to enter a Slumber out of shock? It couldn’t be!

He couldn’t get into a Slumber now. Surely one had to be a very ancient or powerful dragon to need a Slumber? Although he was the child of a manakete and a human, he had much more prominent human features, so all of his family seemed to agree that he was a quarter manakete at most. Could he even get into a Slumber?

“Heeey, c’mon man, you gotta focus.” Caspar waved in front of Wolfie’s eyes, nudging his shoulder to walk to where all the others were going. “Look, everyone’s leaving us here! I’m not really good at cleaning either, but I can at least lug heavy stuff around.”

“Cleaning?” Wolfram didn’t recognize his own voice, too confused to even realize he had started walking.

“Yeah. You didn’t hear anything? We’re gonna use the Monastery as our base, but this place’s a mess. So we’re gonna clean.” Caspar kept pushing Wolfram, apparently unbothered for having to do so as he pointed with his chin towards the group walking right ahead of them. “The girls said it’s better to start with the dormitories so we can have a place to stay tonight, so c’mon, let’s go and check how everything looks now!”

Caspar’s enthusiasm and obliviousness to Wolfie’s inner turmoil stole a smile from the half manakete, though the weight inside his chest didn’t get any lighter.

“... Yeah, let’s go.” He managed to say in the end, holding Caspar’s hand so he could lead the way.

Wolfram often heard -- both back home and in Fódlan -- that a common thing humans did to cope with difficult times was to keep the body busy with chores, regardless of their nature. But that honestly wasn’t the way manaketes’ minds worked. They needed time to think and put their feelings in order, so doing other things in the meantime was distracting and stressful.

Especially because they had started cleaning the dormitories located on the first floor -- right where the room Wolfram shared with Dedue was.

The more stuff they carried outside to air them, the more they dusted and cleaned the surprisingly untouched furniture, the heavier Wolfram’s heart became. Even his head seemed to be so full of knots it made him tilt it sideways whenever he walked.

He remembered how anxious he had spent the first few nights in Dedue’s room: what if his bandanna came off while he slept? What if he sneezed and his wings popped out by accident? What if his secret was exposed on the very week of his arrival?

Of course, he also felt a tad anxious when he went to share a room with Caspar, especially about his bandanna, but it wasn’t as much as the first time -- and it was precisely because of how peaceful the time he spent with Dedue had been.

… It hurt so much.

Wolfie had wanted to tell both Caspar and Dedue about the purpose of his arrival in Fódlan, because he knew both of his roommates would accept him just like Dimitri did. Actually, he wanted to come clean about his reasons to all of his classmates, especially after living in exile for so long. He had pondered over which words to use and under which circumstances, but now everything was just a blank.

His body moved as he was told, but his brain felt like wet cotton.

Suddenly, he remembered the words his elder siblings had left him with. The words about death, parting and finding ways to deal with the loss the best way he could. Pressing his lips into a thin line, Wolfram sniffled the warm tears back as his shoulders trembled.

They never taught him how to deal with a secret he didn’t want to keep. They never taught him how to come clean with a lie he had kept for years.

They told him that experiencing war with his own skin would be hard and that he had to do anything in his power to cope with it, but… to think that it would be like this. He had barely done any fighting and the weight of this responsibility was already so heavy.

Wolfram dried the tears that fell uncaring of his best efforts to keep them away. He simply stood there, in the middle of cleaning, hiding his face with both hands as he sobbed.

There weren’t many people assigned to that specific area, but it wasn’t as though he was alone -- yet he couldn’t help the tears that streamed down his face.

Out of the former students assigned to this part of the dormitories, there were Dorothea, Caspar, Wolfram and Ashe; and the first one to see Wolfram hunched back was Dorothea. She gasped and meant to comfort the tall boy, but bit her lower lip in hesitation. Wolfie had confided in her in the past, but perhaps the best person to be by his side at that moment wasn’t her, but…

Dorothea spied Caspar with the corner of her eyes, quickly running to his side to tap his shoulder. “Caspie, I need help with something.”

“Yeah?” The young man brushed one hand over his forehead to dry the sweat after placing a cabinet on the ground. “Anything you want me to move?”

“No, it’s actually about Wolfie. Can you take him to the gardens? He… he needs a break.” She whispered, stealing a glance at the crying boy.

Caspar’s eyes immediately widened in surprise as he hurried to Wolfram’s side without even giving Dorothea a reply. “Wolf?! Hey, you okay, man? Wolf!” He shook the half manakete’s shoulder vigorously, making the hands slip out of his crying face.

“C-Casparrr!” Wolfram wailed pitifully, hugging the shorter man so as to sob on his shoulder.

Confused out of his mind, Caspar looked around as if he could find the answer of what to do just lying in the middle of the scattered furniture. He awkwardly patted Wolfram’s back, his chest sinking in what he assumed was sympathy.

Catching Caspar’s gaze, Dorothea pointed to the gardens, which made Caspar remember her previous words. “Alright!” He heaved and took Wolfram in his arms to smuggle him to the gardens. Honestly, he had no idea why they had to change locations, but since he knew he wasn’t good with sensitive matters, he chose to simply trust Dorothea and do as she said.

Wolfram barely noticed that they had moved as he hugged Caspar with everything he had as he poured all of the loneliness, uncertainties and grief of the past 5 years onto his friend’s shoulder.

Without much to do, Caspar patted Wolfram’s back with one hand as he grippeda t the grass with the other -- he felt like fighting someone. Who had made Wolfram feel that way? He wanted to fight them and settle things for good, but there was no way he could get a clear answer from his friend at the moment, so he simply waited.

It was only after the tears had dried and his throat hurt that Wolfram managed to stop himself from crying as he slowly pulled away from Caspar. “Th-thank you for being with me, Caspar. It means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it! Are you alright? Did you get into a fight? I’m gonna punch ‘em for you.” Caspar punched his open palm as he cracked his neck, but that only made Wolfram’s shoulders sag and a faint smile sprout on his lips.

“Actually, it was like everything rushed in at once, so it wasn’t just one or two things.” He took Caspar’s hands in his own so his friend wouldn’t hurt himself from clenching his fists. “It helped me clear my head a lot, though, so thank you again.”

“Sure, but,” Caspar tilted his head to the side, looking straight into Wolfie’s red, tear-stained eyes, “I’m still mad for some reason. I don’t like seeing you like this, Wolf.” He said in a whisper, unsure of his own feelings.

Wolfram’s chin trembled with emotion as Caspar reached out to move a few strands of hair that had glued themselves on Wolfie’s face. “Actually I- I have something to tell you, Caspar.” Wolfram sniffled, unable to take a deep breath through his stuffy nose.

Crying had taken an immense load off of Wolfram’s shoulder, but the issue itself remained. He grieved for his friend; he wanted to tell everyone about his secret -- he wanted to be able to stand beside them proudly, without the need to hide who he was or what he had come here to do.

And Caspar had to be the first one to know from his own mouth. Not by accident like what had happened with Dimitri, but willingly, from the bottom of his heart. Of course, his mind wanted him to wait at least for night time, even if they were in a secluded location, there were people wandering around amidst their cleaning effort.

Yet, Wolfram’s heart pounded, wanting him to blurt everything out at that very moment.

“Yeah? I can’t help much with words, but I can listen.” Caspar nodded, looking up at Wolfram with the clear, sincere eyes that Wolfie liked so much.

“Actually, I’m not human.” He lowered his head to pull the bandanna off of his head, exposing his pointy ears. “I came here with a mission-”

“Whoa, wait, wait, wait, what? Wait, you remember you past? That’s awesome, Wolf! And those ears-” Caspar moved from one side to the other, taking a better look at them. “Whaddya mean ‘not human’? What else could you be? I never heard of anything not human living here…”

“Heehee,” Wolfie laughed awkwardly, scratching his chin. “I’m not from ‘here’. I came from another world under the guidance of the goddess I worship.” He grasped his locket as he spoke, his chest feeling lighter and lighter the more words left his lips. “I was told to stay by Byleth’s side and protect her during the ‘turmoil’ that would shake this world, though I had no idea how soon war would break out after I arrived…”

Caspar frowned so deeply one could see the gears inside his brain struggling to work. “So the goddess appeared for you too? Like with the Professor?” He still couldn’t grasp it due to the sheer absurdity of it all.

Snorting, Wolfie held his locket closer and focused on his dragonstone. “I’ll just show you.” He brought out dragon half as he felt part of his body being covered by scales. The wings, tail and horns popped out as well, making Caspar let out a loud exclamation of surprise.

“HOLY SHIT, YOU CAN FLY?” He jumped out of his spot. “That’s dope. What the hell, man…” He murmured as he walked all around Wolfram, poking at his wings and horns.

Is that really the most surprising part here…? Wolfie snorted inwardly, glad that Caspar’s reaction was much better than he had anticipated.

He called his wings back after a few moments, still wary of the bright sun above them. “I couldn’t tell anyone about my origins since, well, it’s crazy, right? So I just said I didn’t remember anything so I could stay with Byleth.”

“Hey, wait, bring it back!” Caspar slammed Wolfram’s back with both hands right where his wings were. “That’s so cool, I never saw someone with wings before.”

… Clearly nothing else Wolfram said would get through Caspar, so he simply giggled in amusement. “It’s still a secret, so please don’t tell anyone, okay? I can call them back at night.” He slipped the bandanna back on his head, once again covering his ears. 

“I dunno why you’d hide this, it’s fucking amazing.” Caspar kneaded his knuckles on Wolfram’s back, wondering how the hell the wings went back inside. Ticklish with the constant contact, Wolfie’s laughter grew, his heart lighter than any other time he spent in Fódlan.

“We can go flying sometime when it’s quieter,” Wolfie suggested, wondering if he should ask Aquilo to carry Caspar as they soared in the night sky.

“REALLY? Hell yeah, man! When’s good? Let’s go tonight!” Caspar arm-locked Wolfie’s head, excited like a little boy to go on an adventure.

Wolfram laughed heartily, falling backwards as Caspar’s hug turned more into a wrestling match the more they cuddled.

It still hurt, but now Wolfie was glad that he had taken a tiny step towards the road of feeling better.

The cleaning effort took weeks to finish -- and it honestly would take much longer than that to actually bring the Monastery back to its full glory. They did the best they could to make the place at least enough to shelter them from rain and wind, but there was much they couldn’t do with their meager numbers -- not to mention how morale hadn’t been the best due to how Dimitri acted.

Wolfie had so much to digest he couldn’t find a good time to speak with his first friend so as to deliver the jewel to him. Besides, the friendship jewel should be exchanged when both parties were ready for the commitment of being confidants for life -- and the current Dimitri wasn’t in that state of mind, not at that moment.

Dedue’s words rang true even five years after they were uttered: Dimitri fought a losing battle within himself, and now it seemed like he had accepted the defeat. What Wolfram could do -- what any of them could do -- was to support him in any way they could.

For now, that meant fighting for him, a goal that would be accomplished much sooner than they would like, for an imperial force had been seen making its way to the Monastery after the Empire had caught wind of the Knights of Seiros coming back to reclaim it.

Dimitri laughed without any mirth in his voice once he heard about the imperial army breathing down their necks, his sleepless mien carving for the silence of the dead. Gulping, Wolfram nodded as Byleth started guiding them to their defensive positions: the Monastery had taken a great blow at the battle five years ago, but it was still a fortress of its own might; so they would be able to protect it should they act wisely.

The battle was fierce -- the imperial forces would stop at nothing to take the Monastery back as they resorted to long range weapons, destructive fireballs and assassins that slipped through their defenses to take out their healers and commanders.

Byleth guided them with all of her power, commanding them as though she predicted the enemy’s every step: She cleared out their reinforcements, secured the ballistae and surrounded their elite knights with the precision of a seasoned soldier.

Once the commander was backed into a corner, he shook with anger. “A total loss… But we can’t just return home like this…” He raised his face with fire in his eyes, aiming at the one who orchestrated his defeat. “I’ll take you with me!”

“Professor, get down!” Dimitri threw himself in front of the blow the commander sent to Byleth’s way at the same time Caspar ran to intercept it. He managed to catch the javelin with his hands before throwing them on the ground in front of the commander.

Frowning, he looked up at the man. “Hey, so you’re Randolph, right? My uncle.” He rolled his shoulder and neck before adjusting the gauntlets wrapped around his fists.

“Uncle?!” Wolfram gasped from above, making sure to hold the position Byleth had told him to. How horrible, to fight his own family in a meaningless war…

The man called Randolph widened his eyes much like Wolfram did. “Caspar?! Yes, indeed... So, I see you have chosen to oppose the Empire.” He stelled himself, taking his battle position. “If so, be warned that I won't hesitate. I'll strike you down, even if we're of the same house!”

Caspar hopped in place to warm himself up. “You took the words right outta my mouth! Graaagh!” He jumped into the fight without hesitation, his resolve having been tested a long time ago.

Wolfie admired the way Caspar threw himself into battle like he had all the answers of the world, but it still pained him to see blood fight with blood like that, so he averted his eyes from the brawl entirely.

Eventually, Randolph fell in defeat as Caspar puffed his chest proudly.

However, Dimitri stepped in, basically shoving the shorter man out of the way. “Capture him.”

The battle was won, but there was a sense of uncertainty in the air, as no one could predict what the ‘Delusional Prince’, as Dimitri came to be known, would do. Soldiers who came under Gilbert’s command heeded Dimitri’s orders and tied the man down as Byleth instructed the people who still had energy to start cleaning after the battle.

Randolph was dragged down the steps he had climbed just hours previous as the attacker, with Dimitri pulling on the rope as though unconcerned of how the commander’s head was bashed on the stairs.

He coughed blood after the third staircase, his head spinning. “I-I have family waiting for me, p-please… I can’t die here.”

Once again Dimitri laughed without mirth, pointing languidly at the fallen commander. He then took out a dagger as he crouched in front of the decaying Randolph. “A beast of your depravity, prattling on about family?” he tapped the dagger on the bleeding cheek. “How amusing.”

“As though you could understand...such a thing as love…” Randolph panted with difficulty as several of his ribs were shattered during and after the battle. “You heartless monster!”

“You are a monster too, General. You just have yet to realize it.” Dimitri slid the sharp blade through the man’s skin, as though pondering where to stab it next.

The conversation was sickening to say the least. Wolfram had been ordered to move the wounded on Aquilo back to the Monastery, but he couldn’t help but listen in with his sensitive hearing. He felt like a pit had opened in his stomach, just waiting to swallow him whole.

Not to mention, that man was Caspar’s…

He looked at his friend with pity in his eyes, wondering what the young man thought about it all.

When the conversation started to take a bloodier turn, Wolfie could see Caspar flinching in contained anger -- he was just about to reach out to stop him from doing something foolish when the smell of fresh blood rose to his nose.

Byleth had taken Randolph out of his misery.

“... What is the meaning of this?” Dimitri asked in a cold voice at the same time Caspar’s shoulders hardened and his breathing stopped for a moment before being let out all at once.

Soon the young man turned away from the scene and went back to doing what he had been ordered to do, but Wolfram couldn’t help but notice the entire scene. Byleth tried to help Dimitri out of the dark place, so there was no space for Wolfie at the moment -- besides, he wanted to give Caspar a big hug for his loss, even if it had looked like he had made peace with it even before the battle.

Wolfie ran back inside after placing the last wounded on an improvised cot on the floor, leaving it to the healers to help them back into shape. Soon he found the blue-haired head he was looking for due to his own height.

However, when he approached, he didn’t know how to even start that conversation.

“Hey.” He looked down awkwardly as Caspar was setting out to the dining hall.

“Hey there, Wolf. We did good back there, didn’t we? We taught them a lesson.” He tried to cheer, but the voice didn’t come out as high as he thought it would.

“Are… are you okay? Even if you were estranged, he was still your uncle, right?” Wolfie reached out to his friend, tentatively patting his shoulder.

Caspar twisted his lips uncomfortably. “Nah, I’m not really feeling bad about that. We weren’t really related by blood and… ugh.”

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Yeah, I don’t, really. It’s just… Dimitri’s methods, man.” He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. “The guy was defeated already, there was no need to-”

It was now Wolfie’s turn to hug his friend and lend him a comforting shoulder to lean on. “Even if you say you’re okay about it, it’s a different story to be face to face at opposing sides with family. Especially after all… that.” Wolfram glossed over so as not to upset Caspar more, patting the spiky hair soothingly.

Unaccustomed to get in touch with his feelings like Wolfram, Caspar frowned inside the hug. He didn’t think that he was that upset about it, but there was this nagging feeling at the back of his heart that weighed a ton.

He was fine, he was. Truly.

But… being in Wolfram’s arms made him feel better. Lighter. So perhaps he wasn’t as ‘fine’ as he thought he was, since it felt better just to be within his friend’s warmth. There was a lot to process and he didn’t have much brain capacity for it all, but for the moment it felt good to just enjoy the hug and be pampered for a change.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #byleth fire emblem #dimitri fire emblem #caspar fire emblem #fatesona #fodlansona #my writings #yuki's commissions

[the-beautiful-tsubaki]

The Ride - Sylvix fanfic chapter 4

“Sylvain…” Felix had arrived at the apex of the stairs of the Goddess Tower – just before Sylvain had fallen asleep. “Good, that moron hasn’t arrived yet.”

“Huh?” Sylvain slowly began to sit up. “There’s only one person who would call me a moron with that tone of voice, and that’s-”

“Well, let’s see if the legends are true… Not that I believe in fate or anything.” Felix spoke as he started to walk towards the balcony, still unaware that Sylvain was present. “…I guess they’re not, or else Sylvain would have come. Then again, he’s probably too dense to remember – in more than one sense.”

Sylvain had chosen that moment to make his presence known. “Excuse me? I’m not dense!”

“Erk!” Felix sharply turned around. “I mean… Of course you are. Your grades have been slipping because you can’t be bothered to stop hitting on women.”

“I haven’t been attending classes that much lately, I’ll give you that. But more importantly… What do you mean ‘in more than one sense?’”

“N-Not telling.” It was then that Felix had taken note of that old toy lance. “So… So you still have it, I see. Good.”

“Felix… Come on, I’m being serious for once. And don’t think I don’t know what it means for two people to meet in the Goddess Tower.” Sylvain got even closer, running a hand through Felix’s hair. “I know you I hurt you and I’m sorry. But I love you and I… well, it’s the first time I’ve ever truly been in love. I didn’t know what else to say at the time.”

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry.” Felix finally managed to look Sylvain in the eyes. “I hurt youeven more, just walking out on you like that. But now… But now… I can say that… Sylvain…”

“Yes?” Sylvain sounded hopeful.

For some odd reason, Felix’s voice quickly began to sound different. “Sylvain! Sylvain!”

~Imperial Year 1186~

“Sylvain, wake up, you fucking idiot!” Before Sylvain could discern who spoke to him – or even before he could fully awake – a hard slap to the face by a lance had woken him up. “Goddess, if I had woken you up but half an hour later, you would be riddled with arrows right now.”

“Oh… Your Highness?” Sylvain arose, using the Lance of Ruin as a crutch. “I… I…”

“No excuses! The enemy is almost here!”

Ugh, not another dream…Sylvain groaned. And one that is conveniently interrupted by His Highness, no less. Why is it that all of my dreams are interrupted just when things are getting juicy?

“This is it, Gronder Field…” Claude stared upon the vast empty space between him and his enemies. “Hard to believe that just five years ago, we fought here in a mock battle.”

“Except this is no mere mock battle.” Edelgard noted. “This is for a unified Fódlan.”

“Ha! A unified Fódlan, you say,” Dimitri scoffed. “I’m not going to fall for that, you wench. Unified under your disgusting rule, maybe. I’ll not let you leave this battlefield with your head! Troops, advance!”

With that angry order, Dimitri led his army at full charge, eyes only on Edelgard.

“So…” Felix, who had remained faithful to the Alliance all these years, stared at Dimitri during his charge. “That’s the boar prince.”

Drawing his blade, Felix’s face contorted as he, too, charged at Dimitri. “I’ll kill you!”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, m’dear, spoke an old but familiar voice from behind Felix – and with it, a swift blow of the lance.

“Try me, you-” Felix stopped mid sentence as he parried this attack and came face-to-face with his attacker – and the Lance of Ruin.

“It… It’s can’t be…” Sylvain eased up on his attack, giving Felix a golden opportunity to continue his own.

“Hmph!” Felix smirked at Sylvain’s foolishness as he slashed at the redhead’s unprotected arm. “Good for nothing then, good for nothing now.”

“And you…” Sylvain had barely enough energy to parry Felix’s attacks. “Rotten asshole then, rotten asshole now.”

Felix took a brief pause, apparently hurt by Sylvain’s words. When his resolve returned, however, the force behind his blows grew ever stronger. “ME?! You’re the one who broke my heart five years ago and I’M the rotten asshole?!”

At this point, Sylvain didn’t feel a need to continue his assault, for he could sense – and see – Felix’s unwillingness to fight. “Y-You? But… You were the one who broke my heart.”

It was at this point that Felix threw the Sword of Zoltan on the ground in disgust. “Dammit, Sylvain, don’t you know me well enough by now? You know I can’t express myself very well! Even back then, I… I couldn’t…”

Not caring that people around them were dying left and right, Sylvain cast the Lance of Ruin down and slowly approached Felix. “You couldn’t what?”

Felix subconsciously started to cry, and tried in vain to shake it off. “S-Sylvain… Don’t… We’re in a battle. On opposite sides, if I might remind you.”

“Felix, do you remember the promise we made when we were kids? About us dying together?”

“I remember something to that effect, yes.”

Sylvain then decided to pull the other man into a hug and continued. “I’m not going to break that promise, not for the world. Because I love you more than anything – or anyone – else in all the world.”

“Sylvain… So do I.”

Sylvain loosened his hug but did not let go. “What did you say?”

“I’m not repeating myself, you half-wit. I couldn’t back then, but… but now…” Felix felt too embarrassed to speak but would regret it all the more if he didn’t speak now. “I… I… Oh, forget it!”

Sill feeling at a loss for words, Felix let the sudden kiss he gave Sylvain speak for itself.

“Dear goddess, Sylvain!” Felix’s tears started again. “Do you have… any fucking idea how much I’ve missed you?! I… I… I wish I didn’t leave.”

“But it’s not too late.” Sylvain looked at his new boyfriend. “Come join us. Your classmates miss you.”

“And I’m sure Mercedes would be more than happy to cure that wound the Sword of Zoltan gave you,” Felix half-heartedly chuckled.

As the two men shared these tender moments, the crown prince of Faerghus couldn’t help but overhear – even from a very far distance. “Tch.” He raised the lance Areadbhar. “Like hell I’ll welcome back a traitor.”

Dimitri took advantage of the usually undistracted Felix and charged at him with Areadbhar – and with his loyal subject Dedue covering him.

“Felix…” Luckily for Sylvain, he snapped out of his romantic daze just in time – enough to notice a horde of Faerghus soldiers coming at him with Dimitri leading the charge. “Felix! Watch out!”

Felix was so caught in the moment that he didn’t believe he was in any real danger – until he suddenly felt a lot of warm, wet blood all over his clothes. Not really caring if it was his own blood, the pain-struck face of Sylvain made his heart ache. “Sylvain!”

“Heh, heh…” Sylvain tried to laugh off the giant gashes on his back, but knew his time of consciousness was short. “Guess I should have been paying more attention… You’re right, Felix… I guess I am… *cough* a good-for-nothing.

“Hell yeah, you are!” Feeling empowered by his anger, Felix hoisted Sylvain onto his back, cutting down several enemies on his way to the Alliance’s medic tent.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #sylvix #sylvelix #sylvain x felix #fanfiction

[flyswhumpcenter]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. I don’t have any request left, so feel free to send in suggestions for this card!).

Arma mulieremque cano.

I've been in a mood for heavy angst, so keep that in mind. Reader discretion is advised here. This was inspired by a two-page doujin my good friend Azure linked in our Discord server. I got intoigued, then got in a mood to make people suffer, and boom! this was born. hell yeah. Also my deathfics are shorter than my usual stuff, so I guess my heavy angst is to be consumed in a concentrated form? It felt weird to write and feels weird to backread, so I'm posting it now for the sake of gaining experience and showing a more daring side of my writing.

-----

An Oath is an Oath

Summary: ...so you should know better than swear two that contradict each other, especially during a war.

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses (Post-Timeskip) Ship: Ingrid/Sylvain (implied)

Wordcount: 1.5K words

Content Warnings: Depictions of violence, major character death

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

-------

I’ll never lose someone again, Ingrid had promised herself when she had gotten over most of her grief. I won’t let anyone kill someone dear to me ever again. I’ll stop them before they can.

Back then, she hadn’t had the powers to stop Glenn from meeting his undeserved demise. Years later, she had that power she had once lacked, hands strong enough to act on her will. She wouldn’t let herself taste powerlessness again she thought and swore, not now that she had become the warrior she wanted herself to turn into as she’d grow up.

 But war is war. It tears people apart with no mercy, disregarding affections and feelings, until soldiers fighting for their life and their nation’s honour had their minds numbed and hearts changed into stone, having become soulless killing machines. No matter how many fairy tales of brave knights saving whom and what they loved she read and inserted herself into, it couldn’t change war into anything prettier than men and women killing each other for a greater cause.

And, no matter how much she tried to be the ideal warrior she had imagined Glenn to have been when he was still alive, Ingrid couldn’t deny the horrors of it as, firmly armed with her lance, she faced a very familiar face, wearing different colours and branding a different animal, the dreadful realization making itself known too quickly for her brain to even attempt ignoring.

 She’d have to break her promise with her own two hands.

 A bittersweet long time no see, huh graced her as she arrived to face the next unit in the war. She almost went mute as she realized she’d be fighting one of the people closest to her right at this instant; but she shook her head and made his smirk disappear.

“This is war,” she replied, “and you know what this means, don’t you?”

“Oh, I sure do.” His expression put on a coat of seriousness unlike anything she had quite seen from him. “I’m afraid this will be the last time we see each other.”

The pressure on his axe strengthened.

“I wish it wouldn’t have ended this way, Ingrid. We were friends.”

“I could say the same of you, Sylvain. I’m disappointed by the choices you’ve made in this conflict, yet wish we’d have fought for the same cause.”

“When haven’t I disappointed you anyway, huh?” He scoffed. “That was yesterday, though, and today is something else. We’re not friends anymore, are we? To say that I’ve missed you…”

His chit-chat was annoying to hear, nagging at her loyalty and sense of morale. He had always tried to escape inconvenient situations with not-so-beautiful words and purple prose she had only seen through.

“We’re merely soldiers fighting on different sides, now. Shall we begin? I don’t want to lose more time speaking to the enemy.”

 The harsh tone in her voice sounded fake to her but seemed to have sounded convincing to him, as she could theorize from the way he rose his axe at her. She could read conflict on his face too, the dilemma neither of them wanted to face, yet had to in order to make their side win. That was war, after all, and they were only the tiniest part of it.

Ingrid’s heart wanted to fight against her lance and the way her wrist moved itself in swift moves to brandish her weapon of choice against the face of a man that, five years ago, she’d have protected from himself; but her mind was stronger, it had always been, and her mind was loyal to King Dimitri and the Blue Lions. Not her fault if Sylvain thought the grass was greener elsewhere.

Not her fault, not her fault if he was dumb, not her fault if he wasn’t loyal, not her fault if he was running after Goddess-knew-what, not her fault if he was going to die by her hands.

 That was war and she couldn’t do anything about it, that was how things were and had always been; yet her eyes still squeezed shut as she made her mount delve down in his direction, white feathers blowing in the wind, her lance’s tip heading down, metal shining against the light of the sun, fingers trembling, hands clammy, eyes wet and will wavering with the wind blowing through her hair.

Forgive me, Goddess.

Her lance plunged with her horse.

Forgive me, Glenn.

A noise of flesh rupturing, of metal meeting metal, of hooves crushing the dirt and the leaves.

Forgive me, Sylvain.

 She had to feel something warm splatter over her face and gliding down her armour to open them again, to dare face her deeds, face the feelings she hadn’t wanted to cultivate and scythe away without harvesting any fruit like you’d pick up rotting apples on the ground of the perishing acre.

I beg of you, please forgive me.

 Her lance had slipped through a hole in his own armour, drippling in red as she got it out of his body, blood painting the grass behind them. He fell from his wyvern, who escaped the field as its knight had disappeared from its back, black wings vanishing away from her sight and under the sun.

Even as her fellow warriors pursued the fight, their cries echoing in the distance, she instructed her mount to land, getting down of it in a rush and kneeling next to whom had been more than just a foe to vanquish in a war that had almost numbed her sense of empathy, steel boots clinking against the ground, red and green printing onto it and dirtying its shine.

 Without thinking more than a moment about it, Ingrid picked Sylvain in her arms, a quick glance examining the wound: right in the lung, most likely in-between the ribs, a fatal wound if left untreated properly. But she was no healer, no ally of him, merely a former friend who had had to kill her enemy in battle if she wanted to win and keep her life. It was expected of her not to do anything about it, to just let the course of things be, so why was she so reluctant to watch this, to do this?

There was nothing she could about it, so why was she on the verge of crying, of weeping like the young girl who had never had to kill someone with her two hands? Was her heart still this tender, this naïve? What had made her so sensitive, so emotional over doing what she had done countless times by now, in the span of five years? Was it the memories of their playing time, the bond they had previously shared, the promise she had made under the stars on one calm but sorrowful night?

 “Should’ve seen it comin’…” He coughed out, blood dripping down from his mouth, lungs congesting. “You’ve always been better at fighting than me…”

“I trained while you were busy skirt-chasing,” she replied, calmly, trying to keep it together. It’d be a disgrace to her king and comrades if she started bawling in the middle of the battlefield for the fallen enemy.

“Still… I’m almost glad it’s you who killed me… At least, you were a worthy opponent…”

“I could say the same about you, I suppose.”

He tried to laugh, but all that came from it was red almost splashing on her.

“I’ll finally stop causing you problems,” he finally said, eyes closing on themselves. “That’s a good thing, no…?”

 Ingrid didn’t reply, her mind unable to come out with anything satisfactory. Teasing the enemy seemed fine, until she remembered that, in death, allies and enemies barely made sense. Her sense of allegiance had left the premise for a moment, the notion of picking a side suddenly stopping to beat with her heart.

He seemed to notice her lack of reply with this smirk giving stead to a serious expression.

“Y’know, Ingrid… Even like that… I don’t hate you...”

 There was no right answer to give him, obviously, as words were already an act of treason to her cause. Honour before feelings and all that. Proverbs stopped making sense, but she was still following their principles anyway.

“In the end, I realize that… neither do I.”

“Good… ’d’ve been a shame if you did…” His lips reached an all-time low. “It’s all messed up anyway… World’s mess’d up…”

His eyes shut never to open again, his warmth already slipping between his armour’s holes, pouring from his wound, joining the sky above.

“See ya on the other side, Ing… ’t was nice knowing you, even if it ended like that…”

“Farewell, Sylvain.”

 I’m sorry; so, so sorry. I couldn’t keep my word.

 In this battle of a name that escaped from her memory, sorrowful Ingrid had broken the promise she had made to herself as she cradled next to her sob-rattled chest the still-warm, smirking, lifeless body of her dearest friend, knowing the battle would rage on with or without her, with or without him. As she resolved herself to either let what was left behind there or bury the remains, one question came to her mind, burning her tongue, scorching her throat, singing her chest from the inside:

When had she become a gravedigger?

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #ingrid brandl galatea #sylvain jose gautier #sylvgrid #angst #heavy angst #oh boy so much angst #hurt no comfort #post-timeskip (fe3h) #cw character death #cw blood #otp: never would and never have #bad things happen bingo #bthb 2