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She hates waking up drenched in cold sweat, like she just emerged from underwater and gasping for air. She wakes up in the middle night, when even the pale light of the moon can’t help her get her bearings and reassure her that she’s in no danger. Her heart is racing and the beat is too loud; it paralyzes her with a fear she doesn’t know its root and she lays awake for several hours before she can fall asleep again.
Annette tries everything to get better sleep at night: chamomile tea, taking a walk, reading novels, drinking milk, or even asking to sleep in someone’s else room. Those terrifying nights aren’t frequent, fortunately; she realized one day that they happen the day before they fight an important battle. It’s just stress, she tells the others when they notice how exhausted and sick she looks, even when Felix pins her with that glare she came to associate with his way of expressing concern.
She especially doesn’t want Felix to ask her questions, because he’s always the reason of her nightmares.
Most of the time she doesn’t remember what she dreamed about; only a lingering feeling of dread follows her the whole day, and vanishes the next day just as suddenly as it appeared. And every time, without fail, she feels herself wanting to stick close to Felix during battle, even when she knows it’s not her position or that she should be leading another battalion on the other side of the field. On those days she begs the professor to pair her up with Felix.
“You know how reckless he is, he’ll need a healer or something to help him, or someone to make sure he follows orders,” she stammers out an excuse, knowing full well Felix isn’t one to disobey the professor’s orders.
Byleth remains silent each time, but she never refuses the request. She goes all the way to change her strategy and to find another battalion leader, simply because Annette has a bad feeling about the battle. It’s odd and kind of puzzling, but Annette is too relieved to question it.
Needless to say that Felix doesn’t particularly like the idea of being under supervision, but he still fights alongside Annette, and if she cranes her neck the right angle at the right moment, she will see the slight smile on his lips. This is enough to make her keep going and to protect him from the invisible danger she wants to chase away.
There is fire burning the grass they’re stomping on and smoke rising from the corpses of fell soldiers. Some of them bear the faces of classmates she wishes she got to know better, and she chokes on their names when she tries to help them. She’s pulled away from this horrifying scene when she hears an equally frightening scream. She’s too slow; her feet drag her towards the voice but it’s slow, too slow, and her hands reach Felix’s bloodied body but even her strongest healing spell can’t bring back the spark of life in his eyes.
She shrieks.
And she wakes up with unshed tears and a weight in her chest.
Of course, Felix immediately corners her about it.
“Sleepless night again?” He sounds accusatory, and for a split second Annette bristles.
“I can’t control them and you know it,” she mutters, clutching her cloak and bringing it tighter around her.
Felix sighs and awkwardly pulls her into him, his arm snaking around her shoulders. She can’t see his face like that but she smiles just thinking about him fighting off embarrassment.
“I know, sorry. It’s just that you’re going to be distracted during the battle, now.”
“I’m not enjoying it either,” Annette grumbles. “It’s fine. I’ll do my best and fight like I usually do.”
This isn’t a complete lie but it is also a half-truth; she perfectly knows that there is no way she will be at her best with the shivers that run through her body whenever she looks at Felix—but she has enough faith in herself to lead an attack even in her condition. Today she will be at the head of a battalion of mages and Felix will join them, as his spellcasting is good enough to be part of it, but it is mainly to provide an additional protection were they to break formation. Annette knows that Byleth arranged it purposefully.
Felix strokes her hair, wordlessly, and they allow themselves to stay like this for a few minutes. Someone will without a doubt come looking for them but Annette can’t bring herself to care, when she knows something big awaits them. She wants to believe it’s just like the other times, but the dark whispers don’t leave her mind and her blood is freezing, keeping her rooted in her fear. She exhales slowly and tries to draw strength from Felix—if she watches over him, then everything will be fine.
They eventually leave with the rest of the army, walking slowly. She gets rid of any unnecessary thought to focus on her mission only; Mercedes squeezes her hands before they part ways and Annette smiles at her, always appreciating the warmth her best friend offers her. She sees Felix strapping one last dagger in his boots before he nods at her. It will be fine.
The battlefield is an empty landscape. The ruins of some old village that probably has been destroyed by bandits over the course of the last five years stand among trees in a vast green field. They are used to navigating in difficult areas, but in such an open space they are vulnerable to so much—stray arrows, pegasus and wyvern riders, or even wandering demonic beasts. Annette’s stomach feels ten times heavier and she’s not sure if she’s imagining or not the cold gust of wind blowing around her.
Their—enemies jump out of the ruins and attack them without even assessing their own force. They must have spread out in the entire field and studied their approach with scrutiny since they are circling specific groups of people to break their army’s formation. Annette can tell they’re not properly trained soldiers, and look more like mercenaries or bandits; she doesn’t have the time to think about their motives though and casts her first spell. The wind howls and cuts deep into their bodies as they scream in pain, scattering to avoid being in the range of her magic. Her battalion casts fire spells, burning the ground and the feet of the people stepping on it. Whenever she reflects on the battle, it’s with a terrible realization that she killed people without even hesitating. She flicks her hand and she destroys buildings; she controls her energy and she takes down her opponents. She can’t allow herself to think about it.
Felix is running across the field killing enemies before they reach her and the battalion’s position, brandishing his sword and cutting down anyone coming at him. He does summon thunder to slow their advance but he’s still faster with his blade and more confident when blood spills all over the place and on his face. Annette never lets him go out of her sight, though it proves more difficult when the fire creates a screen of smoke. The smell of death is already getting to her and her eyes are watering.
Then it hits her like she was slapped in the face.
Her own battalion and the mercenaries they are fighting become invisible to her. She knows it’s irresponsible of her and she is ready to face the consequences, but she has to get to Felix’s side before it’s too late. She stutters an order about keeping the enemy grouped together for making them an easier target, and dashes towards Felix. He’s not outnumbered, but a shadow flies above their heads and when she looks up she knows she failed.
The demonic beast descends upon Felix and even her screams aren’t loud enough to cover the crunch of a jaw on a body.
She falls down on her knees and screams and screams and—
—wakes up with a racing heartbeat and cries crawling up her throat.
She doesn’t care. She bolts upright and barely takes the time to put on shoes before she slams the door of her room open and runs. Her steps are hurried and she really, truly doesn’t care if she is waking up anyone. She climbs the stairs to the second floor, rushes past all the doors and finally ends up banging her fist on Felix’s. She knows he’s a light sleeper, and the force with which she’s making herself known would be able to make herself rise, too.
Felix yanks the door open and his face is twisted into alarm, morphing into terror when his eyes lock with Annette’s crazed gaze.
“Wh—”
Annette doesn’t say anything and crashes into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and never letting go.
“What’s wrong, Annette?” he asks softly, though his voice is still laced with fear.
Annette stays silent, trying to control her breath but she still can’t get the images of death out of her mind and her heart feels like it’s going to leap out of her chest. But with her head positioned just against Felix’s chest, she can hear his heartbeat, loud and reassuring, and she realizes he’s safe and alive. She lets out a shuddering sob.
“You died, again,” she whispers.
Felix gently drags her inside his room and squeezes her shoulders. He’s not saying anything, only keeping her into his embrace, like he did before—before the mission, and Annette closes her eyes and pretends that everything will be set right.
It’s not a restful night, but she can listen to Felix’s breath and that’s all that matters.
Byleth comes find her at breakfast when she’s sitting with Felix, who indulgently lets her hold his hand even in public. She might also be cutting off all blood circulation in his hand but that’s not something she deems important.
“Annette, I have to ask you something,” the professors says, glancing at Felix.
Felix raises an eyebrow, refusing to be embarrassed despite the current predicament he’s in, and Annette would have found it quite adorable if her mind wasn’t elsewhere.
“Uh, professor, maybe another time?” she replies with a small voice.
“It’s...urgent.” Byleth rarely displays moments of vulnerability, so her hesitance makes Annette frown. “Do you know what day it is?”
“What day it—isn’t it the fourth day of the week? What about it?”
Annette looks around and meets Felix’s confused eyes.
“It’s the third day of the week,” Felix corrects her. “We’re going to fight some enemy group at the ruins of a village later.”
Byleth looks in pain. Annette doesn’t know what to say.
“I had my suspicions when you kept asking me if you could stay by Felix’s side.”
“Why is it happening? Why can’t you do something about it?”
After some persuasion, Annette agreed to talk with Byleth, and right now she doesn’t know if she wants to scream or to cry. Probably both.
“You’re not supposed to be aware of it,” Byleth mumbles, casting her gaze downward. “Nobody else should be retaining memories of what happened.”
“I’ve been having these dreams for weeks, Professor.”
It’s insane. It’s unbelievable. But more than the concept of time rewinding, it’s the idea that her classmates died so many times and that they are only mortal that fills her with fright. She knows it, of course, she knows that they can die on the battlefield but—none of her friends has been on the other end of a lance and she foolishly thought that they were safe because they had a strong army.
However, in her dreams, she fails at reaching Felix in time.
“I apologize, Annette. I don’t know why you are affected by my...abilities. I’ll find a way to make it stop.”
Annette tries to read her professor’s face. Five years later and she’s still the same, her mouth loosely pressed into a thin, neutral line while her eyes express nothing. The most emotion Annette has seen is a frown or the beginning of a smile that doesn’t last long. She wonders if being raised as a mercenary would do that someone; being raised as a soldier with a sword in hand as soon as she could walk. It’s the fate of many children in Faerghus.
“No,” Annette declares.
Byleth blinks.
“No?”
“Professor, you...if what you say is true, then you had to go back in time to save people. It must have been awful.” Annette shakes her head, wringing her hands together. “If I can share your burden, I’ll gladly do it.” She takes a deep breath, and her voice is steadier. “I can’t look away now that I know what you’re doing for us. And I have to get stronger to protect those dear to me.”
She doesn’t recall every single one of her dreams and right now she supposes it’s a blessing, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t occur. Mercedes’s scream, Felix’s snarl, Felix’s body lying in a pool of blood. It’s always Felix—no matter how she looks at the situation, Annette has the distinct feeling that Felix has died one too many times, because he’s stupidly reckless and too eager to decimate his enemies before they breach their defenses. It’s a horrible feeling.
“You’re strong, Annette.”
Byleth’s lips are tugging upward in that discreet smile, but her eyes are shining with so much sincerity that Annette finds herself laughing, out of relief, out of dread.
“I try my best, Professor.”
She doesn’t tell Felix what she’s discovered. He’s still worried, still frowns in concern for her, but she steels herself and assures him she will fix things. Before the battle, she pulls him into a kiss, more like a good luck charm than anything, and orders him to stay alive.
“Well, who am I to disobey my commander?” He smirks, his face slowly unraveling the confidence he’s always carried with him into battle.
Annette rolls her eyes, but she stays close to him all the way to the battlefield. Felix works best when he’s not surrounded by allies, which is starting to change as he’s adjusting to his new position and the formations the professor is trying—but he’s still an incredible beacon of a lone light, swinging his sword like it weighs nothing and moving like his feet are only brushing the soil. Annette trusts him, loves him, and that’s why she will accept any pain to keep him safe.
That night, the memories come back one at a time. An arrow to the heart; an axe cutting the body in half; a spell going out of control. Hot lava burning anyone to a crisp; horses trampling on a downed soldier; demonic beasts mauling people to death. Annette doesn’t remember every single death but she remembers cradling Felix’s body in her arms too many times, her own clothes and her hands coming away in morbid red.
Dreams might be dreams, but her feelings are real.