Chapter Text
Sylvain was no stranger to waking up in bed with company. But, for once, Sylvain had no desire to get up and escape. Felix was nestled against his chest, totally at peace. Despite his reputation, nothing untoward had occurred the previous night. Sylvain needed to prove to Felix that he meant infinitely more than some fling. And Felix was still injured. Sylvain knew the healers in the army would never let him live it down if he caused Felix’s wound to reopen because of their activities. Sylvain had simply asked Felix to stay. Felix had of course scoffed at the implication and Sylvain had to rush to clarify that he meant just to actually sleep. It’ll be like the old days. I always felt more at ease when you stayed over.
It was awkward, certainly. Sylvain felt like a teen again, blushing as Felix made himself at home in Sylvain’s space, Though Sylvain could see that Felix’s cheeks were just as red, and he couldn’t help but laugh at their awkwardness. Felix laughed too as the two of them tried to squeeze into a somewhat comfortable position on the tiny dorm bed. Sylvain hadn’t heard Felix laugh in years, and, goddess, had Felix’s laugh always made his heart race like that?
When Felix finally stirred, he nuzzled his head against Sylvain’s chest.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Late enough that we should probably get up.”
Felix only nuzzled closer in response. It was adorable. Sylvain could definitely get used to this side of Felix.
“Since when did you not get up at the crack of dawn?” Sylvain teased.
Felix lifted his head and lightly glared at him for the remark, but there was no malice behind it. “Shut up.”
“We really should get to the dining hall before all the good food is gone.”
“Fine,” Felix groaned as he sat up, shuffling over to the other side of the room to grab his clothes from the night before. Sylvain had lent him some sleep clothes, and while they were way too big, Sylvain decided he really liked seeing Felix in his clothes. He used to think it was dumb and only happened in romance novels…but not anymore. This whole love thing was still new to him.
“Stop staring,” Felix chided.
“I wasn’t—ok, maybe I was but…sorry.”
Felix scoffed, but the corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. “Never thought I’d see you fumbling over your words. Where’s your signature charm?”
That charm was never real. It was all a part of the act. And now, knowing that Felix loved him too, he didn’t have the heart to even try to put on that facade anymore.
“Well, I…” Sylvain tried to turn his gaze away, but then he saw Felix’s genuine smile.
“I like it,” he said, “It’s…cute.”
It was Felix’s turn to blush and turn away. Holy shit Felix flirting was adorable. So the two of them sat there as if they were awkward teenagers fumbling over some first love. Then again, other than being older, it was a pretty accurate description for them.
“Come on,” Felix said, his characteristic frown returning, “You made me get up. Now it’s your turn.”
Sylvain wondered if everyone else around them could sense something had shifted between them, but he tried not to think about it. And he wasn’t about to push his luck in public. Felix would probably actually murder him if he attempted any public displays of affection. The first test came when Annette came to sit with them.
“Morning!” she said with a yawn.
“Morning,” Sylvain replied. Felix, as usual, just sort of nodded. “What’s got you so exhausted?”
As Annette started to ramble about some magic theory research she was doing, nothing was really different. Felix still just sort of silently sat there listening, only really responding when addressed (which was understandably rare since he did not know much about magic theory). It did make sense that nothing would really change with them. They were still friends. Just ones who happened to be in love. Thinking that through was a big stress off his back. No need to overanalyze to see if anyone could figure the two of them out. Edelgard noticed years ago, so Sylvain had to assume many others knew of their feelings for each other, but figuring out that they’d gone from pining to actually being together was something else.
That said, Sylvain was pretty sure Edelgard knew the moment he showed up for lunch over tea. The look on her face said that she knew. How?
“You seem to be in good spirits today,” she said, “Happy about Felix being released from the infirmary?”
“I mean, yeah. It means he’s gonna be ok. He’s sooooo mad he can’t train though.”
“I would expect nothing less from him. I hope you finally slept in your own bed. I can’t imagine the infirmary was particularly comfortable.”
Sylvain laughed. “No, it wasn’t. But it was worth it. Though, uh, maybe for the next battle you could ask Byleth to not position me near Linhardt? I think he’s seen more than enough of me the past few days.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
As Edelgard poured their tea in silence, Sylvain’s mind couldn’t help but wander. The war was speeding closer and closer to its end, and things were looking up. Edelgard’s dreams of a united Fódlan where Crests didn’t decide peoples’ worth were in reach. He could finally…be free. He would never have to hear the name “Gautier” ever again. And, just maybe, Felix would be by his side.
“What’s with the smile?” Edelgard asked.
“I guess I’m just feeling a bit optimistic for once in my life. I feel like things really are changing for the better. For all of us.”
Edelgard smiled warmly. “The Sylvain I met in the cathedral half a decade ago didn’t believe he could change his own life, let alone everyone else’s. You look much better with hope written on your face instead of despair.”
The him from all those years ago had been wrong about love. He’d written it off in any and all forms. He never sought to find it. Instead, it found him. The platonic love of the Strike Force, especially from Edelgard. The almost motherly kind of care from Dorothea. And, most of all, Felix, the man he’d loved for goddess knows how long, who also loved him in all the same ways. Parts of him would always feel unworthy of love, would always feel disgusting and horrible and deserving of punishment and hatred. But he could stop himself from being so consumed by those parts. And that was enough.
“Hope, eh? I could get used to that.”
~Epilogue~
Sylvain had never been a pious man, nor had he ever believed in a concept of hell. But Fhirdiad continuing to burn as the Immaculate One roared with what little life she had left was as close as Sylvain ever thought he would ever get. As the roar rushed over the battlefield, friend and foe alike had frozen and ceased fighting. But Sylvain was not stunned as long as the church soldiers he had been fighting and he cut them down. He felt it was a mercy for them at this point. They’d seen what their leader had become, and now they knew she—or rather it—was dead. He was simply allowing them to follow their saint to the afterlife they believed was waiting for them out there. Some might have thought he was a horrible person for thinking such things. Sylvain couldn’t disagree on the “horrible person” front, but he knew someone who would.
“Sylvain!” Speak of the devil—well, metaphorically. Felix was more of an angel to Sylvain. “Are you injured?”
And how good it was to hear his voice after the chaos separated them in battle. Instead of giving him an answer, Sylvain carefully skirted around lifeless bodies and burning debris to run towards Felix’s voice, uncaring of how his injured leg protested.
When he finally found his angel, he pulled him into a warm embrace. How good it felt to be in the arms of the man he loved after such a trying battle.
Felix tightly squeezed him back. “You didn’t answer my question, you idiot.”
Sylvain ran his fingers through Felix’s hair. “I heard you were fighting alone, I—”
“I’m fine,” Felix retorted, pulling himself out of Sylvain’s arms. “You, on the other hand, nearly got yourself killed! I heard you scream from across the battlefield.”
One of those damn golems got the jump on him while he was fending off some pegsai from reaching Linhardt. It hurt like hell, but he had to keep going. Sylvain didn’t realize he’d screamed that loud, though it did explain why Felix was so concerned about injuries.
“It was one of those golems' lances,” he said, “Just a scratch.”
Felix looked down at his leg. It had been healed by Linhardt so the bleeding had stopped, but there was still a nasty looking gash in his leg.
“No, it’s not! Why the hell did you run over to me while you’re injured like this?!”
“I needed to see you. To know that we both really made it. We promised, didn’t we?”
“I know that.” They would stay together until they died together. An innocent childhood promise. Though now that they were older and open about their affections for each other, it carried a much larger weight. “But take weight off your leg before you hurt it more.”
Sylvain smiled. He hadn’t quite expected to be injured like this (or for the streets to be burning), but he’d made a decision before this battle, and he was going to follow through.
“Alright, alright,” he said, lowering himself to the ground not to sit, but to kneel.
“What are you—”
“Felix,” Sylvain said tenderly, willing his voice not to falter. Felix fell silent in an instant. His glare withered away in an instant, “Maybe it’s too soon for this, but now that the war is over…” Sylvain brought his hands to his neck and removed a necklace he’d been wearing. A necklace with a ring on it.
“Sylvain…”
“Just hear me out, ok? I love you, Felix. I’ve known that for years, but I didn’t tell you for so long because I always knew I’d be forced into a stupid arranged marriage with some noblewoman. I didn’t want to break your heart.” Sylvain saw rage flicker in his eyes for a moment, but it quickly fizzled out. “But now, we don’t have to worry about that. The nobility, this stupid antiquated system, has no power over us anymore.” Sylvain took the ring from the necklace and held it up. “We promised we’d be together until we die. Will you make that a reality with me?”
For a moment, Felix stood there in silence as the flames crackled around them. Sylvain heard voices shouting on the battlefield, but they were so far away. They didn’t matter now, not when Felix finally spoke,
“Yes, you fool.”
The genuine smile that lit up Felix’s face was the most beautiful sight Sylvain had ever seen. He quickly sprung up from his kneeling position and slid the ring on Felix’s finger. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a simple silver ring devoid of any engravings that tied them to their pasts. It looked right at home on Felix’s hand. He would’ve looked at it longer had Felix not pulled him in for a kiss. And in that moment, Sylvain no longer was in the burning remnants of his former capital. He was in a golden paradise where nothing and no one could take away this happiness, the first true happiness he'd felt in so long. Sylvain didn’t believe in a hell, but maybe he could believe in a heaven, and his heaven was right here.