Chapter Text
By now Sylvain really should’ve figured out that no idea of Miklan’s would bode well for him. Honestly? It’s a miracle he’s lived as long as he has. Not that that isn’t about to change- it’s already pretty hopeless once the snow begins to cover any tracks left. The cold bites at his face and pierces through his clothing that had only ever been meant for a short trip out. Fatigued from the weather he had slipped down a particularly steep spot, twisting his ankle on his way into the ravine below. He had smashed through the ice- it wasn’t deep, thank the goddess, but now his clothes are wet and sucking at what little warmth he has.
Sylvain’s only solace as the sun dips past the trees is the small hollow he spots beneath a tree. It’s tight, but he manages to squeeze himself into it. He abandons his gloves and wrings what he can out of his overcoat so he at least doesn’t sit on the frozen dirt.
It’s getting harder to feel his fingers. That doesn’t scare him, at least not as much as his shivers subsiding. When he was a lot younger his nanny explained time and again the signs of the body to listen for when playing in the cold. Most of the details are fuzzy, lost to a general development of common sense, but he knows falling asleep is basically a death sentence at this point. He doesn’t want to leave Felix, or Dimitri, or Ingrid. But his eyelids just keep getting heavier, and not needing to be scared anymore is tempting.
His head begins to bob, once ominous sounds of nature becoming a sick lullaby. He’s finally ready to surrender to sleep when something bumps into his leg. Really, he should be alarmed by this, but the most he can bring himself to do is shift his head on his knees to get a look. The little thing sitting there is almost enough to convince him this is some sort of fever dream.
A Snom stares up at him with its little beady eyes. Nothing enough to matter right now. Sylvain shifts his head back to where it was, closes his eyes, and-
Bump. Bump bump.
It stops almost sheepishly when he looks at it again.
“I don’t have anything.” It sags a bit before resuming its crusade, papping at his leg. Sylvain shifts, more to ease the pain in his ankle than anything else, and as soon as the opportunity presents itself the Snom clambers into his lap. It’s cold, naturally. Yet a tiny warmth blooms within him regardless. He brings a hand to rest on its back, and it all but purrs.
“...At least I won’t die alone, I guess.” The Snom jolts under his hand and stares up at him. It almost looks… concerned.
The wind is picking up, and snow is finding its way into the hollow. With the weather getting worse the Snom will probably leave him to go wherever it considers home. It sits up a bit straighter and stares out the opening, climbing down but not leaving.
It uses protect, stopping a gust from throwing more snow in. It takes a few tiny breaths, and then it does it again. And again. And it keeps doing it until the squall subsides, when it stumbles back to his side on its tiny legs.
This time Sylvain helps it into his lap, awestruck by its strange behavior. It’s obviously exhausted, but it still leans into him and nudges him whenever it feels his hand slipping.
Still, the Snom itself is fighting a losing battle with sleep after the little stunt it pulled. Each nudge is weaker than the last until it eventually dozes off. Without the external influence Sylvain really can’t manage to stay awake himself. His foggy mind accepts that. He folds his arms around the Snom.
He will die tonight. He understands that. But at least this silly little Snom cares.
It’s more than can be said about a lot of people.
***
He wakes up.
His thawing body is buried beneath blankets and furs, effectively trapping him. A fireplace crackles across the room and while the warmth is welcome, the dry heat suffocates. His choked cough startles a squeak out of a creature next to him before it shuffles into his line of sight. The Snom stops near his chin, trills, and then scurries out through the sliver of open door.
The whole thing is so strange that he can’t help but laugh. That just sets off a whole other coughing fit and distracts him from the people bursting through the doorway.
“Syl!” Felix throws himself into his chest just too quickly for Glenn to catch him by the hood. Instinct tells him to bite back his cries but the fatigue and bone deep ache makes it impossible to fully stop. It’s just a grunt, but it’s enough for Felix’s tears to shift from relief to worry. The only consoling he manages is a quick hair ruffle before Ingrid and Dimitri make it through the commotion to his bedside.
“It’s good to see you awake, Sylvain,” Glenn attempts to play it normal, nudging Felix aside so he can help him sit up, but it’s obvious even he’s shaken. Sylvain opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to form a response. They want to hear him say he’s glad to be awake, and it’s not a lie per se, but…. He tries to subtly grab a fistful of blanket, looking for any way to distract himself from the room, but the Snom wiggles its way up Felix’s leg and onto the bed to slip in for a head pat instead. It captures everyone’s attention, relieving Sylvain of the suffocating concern.
“Have to say, we didn’t expect to see you’d made a new friend,” Glenn quirks a smile in contrast to his furrowed brow. “It woke up when we went to bring you home, didn’t stop hissing until it saw Felix crying,” he quips.
“I wasn’t crying! The wind stung my eyes!”
“Right, right,” he rolls his eyes, smiling.
“How’d it get here, anyway?”
“Followed us down the mountain, believe it or not. We didn’t even realize it until we reached camp and it had a chance to catch up. It was quite the sight, watching it scurry in!”
Snom are so small, and their legs so tiny, to keep up with them had to be exhausting. Why was it fixated on him to such an extent? He had done nothing for it. In fact, it was a complete coincidence that it had even encountered him. If it wasn’t used to the cold he would think it just wanted a way out of the weather, but that doesn’t make sense here. Had it maybe seen Sylvain before, and associated him with the manor? Does it even care about being in such a well-kept place? But then, why would it be glued to his side like this?
“Syl?” He jolts. Felix looks near tears with worry, and the others look nervous in their own right.
“Huh?”
“What’s wrong? You spaced out,” he frowns.
“Wh- nothing, I’m fine!” He laughs, hollow. “Although, I think I’m tired?” Glenn watches him just a second too long.
“We’ll let you rest, then.” His friends whine, save Dimitri, who more pouts in the most un-bratty way possible, but relent without much fight. Glenn hangs in the doorway, waiting until they’ve left. “His Highness, Father, and Ingrid can only stay a few days, but Felix and I are here until you’re 100% again.” He lets that hang, closing the door with a soft finality behind him.
As much as that was an excuse, he really is starting to feel exhaustion hit. Once he’s settled back down Snom wastes no time climbing on top of him and settling on his chest. His breathing relaxes to match the rise and fall of the little guy, and he’s soon asleep.