Chapter Text
When it’s so late that it’s technically morning, Felix rolls off the couch with a crick in his neck and an odd longing to return to the beach.
And no, it’s not because he particularly enjoyed the briny scent of the ocean, or found himself soothed by the gentle roll of the morning tide. It wasn’t even because he couldn’t wait to get out of this house and escape the pitiful looks on his friend’s faces.
Felix just slips on his boots, quietly padding into the kitchen. He hadn’t been able to sleep at all, his mind a mess as he thought of his groundbreaking discovery.
He hadn’t seen the mermaid since yesterday, when she’d denied his offer of food and left him drenched in seawater.
Felix thinks ahead this time, cutting a few apples into neat wedges and peeling fat oranges. He feels like such a hypocrite, having once scolded a group of children for feeding wild animals along Fraldarius’ supply route, prompting them to return with the expectation of being fed.
This is different, he tries to tell himself as he travels down to the beach, carrying a small container filled with the chopped fruit. An injured mermaid couldn’t waylay supply deliveries or maul merchants.
(She could probably maul him, he thinks, recalling those dangerous claws.)
But she hadn’t, and maybe it was because she was injured, or maybe it was because he’d proved somewhat non-threatening. He didn’t really know.
He was trying to apply logic to the situation, but the truth was that there was absolutely nothing logical about this entire ordeal. He was feeding a mermaid, a creature of mythical proportions, and it’d take him a while to reconcile that fact.
The cove is quiet right now— pretty looking, too. The ocean is dark, calm, the tides gently crawling along the shore. The sky is clear tonight, not a grey cloud in sight to hide the waning crescent moon or its twinkling companions.
Standing on the edge of the driest rock he can find, one that’s closest to where he’d seen her last, Felix glances around. He doesn’t hear any hissing or splashing. Doesn’t see a flash of iridescent scales. She’s not here.
Maybe she was hiding, or possibly sleeping—
Do mermaids even sleep?
Felix absentmindedly kicks off his boots, setting his lantern atop the sand and wading into the ocean. The tide has come in overnight, water that was once ankle-deep now soaking up to his knees.
“Hello?” He calls out, ears straining for that telltale hiss, eyes on the lookout for the spray of salt water. “Hey!”
(Stupid, stupid, stupid.)
For a couple long minutes, he stands in the water, waiting. He’s still not sure why he’s out here, not sure why he cares, not sure why it bothers him that she’s out here, injured.
He’s dangerously close to contemplating his every life decision when his ears pick up a faint splash on his left.
His head whips around and she’s there, appearing just as he remembers and reminding him that, no, he hadn’t been dreaming. Her teeth are bared, fins fanned, and eyes narrowed in a stare so sharp that it cuts through him like glass.
If you corner a wild animal, they’re prone to lash out, so he takes care to leave a cushion of space between them even as he approaches. No sudden moves. No concealed hands.
“Here,” he says slowly, placing the food between them. “It’s for you. It’s fine, see?” He takes an apple slice of his own, popping it into his mouth.
Felix takes a few steps back and lets her approach on her own, her gaze darting between him and his little offering before she hesitantly takes an orange wedge.
“Thanks,” she grunts, still eyeing him a little warily as she brings the fruit to her mouth.
They eat in silence for a while, Felix focusing on the roll of the waves as he thinks about what he should do next. Socializing with regular people was difficult enough, but he figures he should try.
“Do you…have a name?”
She blinks once, licking a droplet of orange juice from her finger.
He points at his chest. “My name is Felix and you’re…”
“Byleth,” his new friend answers slowly.
_____
And so they settle into their new norm. Felix brings a few pieces of fruit and other snacks to share on their little spot on the rocks. It’s a nice escape, away from his friends and away from home, where he can just…relax.
Byleth is good company. She doesn’t talk much, mostly just watches him curiously, but he doesn’t mind. It’s better than dealing with Ingrid’s prying, Sylvain’s needling, and Dimitri’s existence.
She does express an interest in his weapons, though, noticing the way she leans in to inspect a dagger he’s sharpening one morning. Well, at least he thinks that she does, if her grunts of approval are anything to go by.
“Do you…fight?” He asks one day when she’s inspecting his hunting dagger. What - or who - did mermaids fight? Each other? Sharks? Kraken?
“Sometimes,” she shrugs, fingers tightly curling around the handle. “I fight. I win.” Her eyes narrow up at him. “‘Could beat you.”
Felix can’t help the smirk that tugs on his lips. He’d love to prove her wrong someday. “Is that so?”
She doesn’t say anything more, just hums in assent as her tail gently swishes in the water around her.
Byleth even makes faces whenever she watches him practice his footwork. He watches her out of the corner of his eye, catching the raised brows when she’s impressed. The head tilt when he tries a new maneuver. The impish grin on the rare occasion that he stumbles.
“You—” she starts on the sixth day that they meet up. He’s practicing with the Sword of Moralta today, using strong, clean arcs to slice through the air. “—good. With a sword.”
Felix isn’t sure why her approval means…something. He’s good with a sword, that’s just a fact. Yet it stirs deep in his chest and makes his face warm.
(No one says anything about the smile on his face when he comes home that night.)
_____
Once Byleth is healed enough, she brings fish to their little picnics.
They’re almost always still alive when she tosses them up onto his rock, flipping and jerking as they fight for their lives. He’s yet to teach her the art of a merciful kill, but in all honesty he’s a little scared to try and lecture her on it.
Ingrid starts asking questions on the third day he brings back a large salmon, a netful of shrimp, and several types of tuna. “Where— where are you getting all of this?”
“It’s none of your business,” he snaps, and she leaves him alone after that.
Byleth brings back other things too, though. One day it’s a small gold coin, covered in moss and other sea sludge. Another day it’s a rusted blade, antique and expensive but something Felix already finds himself reluctant to part with.
But most of the time, it’s small things, like pretty shells and smooth pieces of sea glass that he keeps in a clear vase.
“Quite the collection you’ve got there,” Sylvain comments one day. “You planning on giving it to a special someone?”
Felix’s only response is a glare.
Today she shows up to their little picnic with a pile of fat mussels and oysters that reside deep enough in the ocean to avoid fishermen’s nets. Byleth shows him how to open them, selecting a sharp, flat rock and sliding it under the lip, prying them open with ease.
She works quickly and deftly, slurping down the soft, creamy texture that resides inside.
“Oh,” he suddenly hears her gasp, and Felix looks over to see a blooming trail of red laid across her palm. Her fins twitch as she frowns down at the cut, tail flicking with displeasure.
Felix sets down the oyster he’s working on, wiping his hands on his pants before holding a hand out to her. “Hey, give it here.”
She cocks her head at him, cradling her injured hand to her chest. “Towel?”
He shakes his head. “No, uh, not for this. It’s small, I can just heal it.”
Hesitantly, she lets him take her hand in his. It’s softer than he expects, other than a small smattering of scales. Felix lets his open palm hover over hers, letting loose a steady stream of faith magic.
He watches her wary expression melt into awe as they watch the skin of her hand knit itself back together. It looks like new, and Felix pats himself on the back for not leaving so much as a scar.
Byleth pulls her hand back, studying her palm closely and wiggling her fingers, awestruck at the simple Heal he’d performed. “What— what—”
“Magic,” Felix says as the shimmering green light is scattered into the ocean breeze. He opens his palm again, this time reaching for his reason magic. (He concentrates a little harder, because his magic is lightning based, and they are surrounded by water. He didn’t want to fry his new friend with a blast of Thoron.)
The magic comes off his hand in the form of small pops of light, their glow soft and gentle between them.
“Magic,” Byleth echoes, testing the new word as Felix tenses under her interested gaze. “Come tonight,” she grins. “I’ll show you.”
_____
Felix returns to the beach just as the sun is dipping beneath the horizon. Byleth is waiting for him on her rock, gracefully backlit by the orangey glow of the sunset.
“Come swim,” she gestures, leading him into the water. “Not far.”
Sighing, Felix grasps the back of his shirt and pulls it off in a single arc, tossing onto the beach. Byleth watches him, humming, and Felix recognizes it as the sound she makes when she opens a fat oyster.
(Appreciative.)
The swim from the shore isn’t far. Just around a few rocks and to a little, secluded cave, still soaked in the light of the sunset. Though the water here is still chest deep, it’s shallow enough that his feet sink into the sand.
The sound of the water echoes around him, bouncing off the walls as Byleth stares intently to the small space between them, gently moving her hand. “Look.”
Felix does, and to his amazement, the water lights up. Specks of brilliant green sparkle around the movement of her hand, shimmering like—
“Magic,” he whispers, to which Byleth smiles and nods. Her tail swishes, stirring a whole new trail of bioluminescence around them, giving her an ethereal glow.
“‘S pretty,” she says simply, tracing glowing patterns in the water.
“Like you,” he blurts dumbly, blushing when he realizes he’s actually said it out loud.
Then she’s looking at him with a singular intensity, the light glittering in the green of her eyes. She’s suddenly leaning in, sparkling eyes darting to his lips as he takes a step towards her in the shimmering water.
But he jerks when something brushes his ankle in the water, feeling silly when he looks down to see Byleth’s tail.
It makes laughter bubble from her throat as she takes his hands in the water. It’s a nice sound, one he doesn’t mind hearing at all. It’s warm and comforting and with a smile, he realizes it feels like healing.