Chapter Text
Felix polished his sword as Annette organized the mess on her desk, humming as she sorted books, letters, and paperwork. They were in Annette’s study; a small, quaint space that only had enough space for her desk and chair, a narrow bookshelf, and a chair for one guest. Annette had only gone home to Dominic for a week before returning to the capital to assist with rebuilding the country. Her tiny office was actually a repurposed closet of the small cottage she and Mercedes were renting together, having both opted out of staying in the castle.
Felix didn’t have any real reason to be here at Annette’s place, he had only come to help Annette carry the stacks of books she picked up from the library. However, he found he preferred to stay, for they both found comfort in each other’s presence after the war.
After Annette convinced Felix to stay.
More often than not the two ended up accompanying each other to various tasks and events in their day. Annette sometimes joins him in training, while Felix follows her into the castle library or greenhouse. Sometimes, they dine with various friends, most often Mercedes and Sylvain.
“This is for you.” Annette throws a book in Felix’s direction. His arm shoots out as he narrowly catches the book, his hand bent in an awkward position. As he places it to the side, he bends down to pick up the polishing cloth he dropped to catch the book. He shot Annette a glare, but she didn’t see as she bent down to gather some writing supplies from under her desk.
“Aren’t you supposed to care about books? How was that treating one properly?” Felix asks, genuinely bewildered. Annette had a way of constantly surprising him. And while Felix disliked surprises otherwise, he still sought out and enjoyed the company of the unpredictable mage.
Annette's head popped up over the edge of her desk, her grin cheeky. “You caught it in the end, didn’t you?” She seats herself, preparing to read and reply to her stack of letters. She missed her mother already and longed to hear how she was doing now that her father had returned home. There were also letters from friends in various areas around Fódlan, and correspondence with Seteth as they planned for the new school year. It was still jarring for Annette to have to speak with Seteth, now headmaster of the Officer’s Academy, on a professional basis instead of as a student. There was much to discuss, as the school year had moved up to quickly prepare students of age so that they could assist in rebuilding Fódlan. The situation was urgent, and there was even talk of employing the would-be students immediately. Annette had set her foot down and insisted they deserved a year to learn and grow. Not only that, but Annette argued that it would be the most effective way to fix relations between citizens of the former Empire, Kingdom, and Alliance. And so, in a month's time, a new group of students would be gracing the halls of the monastery for the first time in six years.
“Read the book, it’s about teaching combat,” Annette commanded. “And,” she continues, cutting off the objection she knew was about to cross the lips of the surly swordsman, “Just because you’re proficient with a sword does not mean you can teach well. I plan on reading multiple volumes as well to prepare for the upcoming school year.”
Felix grumbled something about how she just wanted more books to read. Still, he set his sword aside and started reading, knowing Annette had to work anyways. They settled into a companionable silence as Annette perused through her letters and Felix unsuccessfully tried to focus on the book. He felt it would be much easier to just spar with the students instead of wasting time reading about the various ways he could teach sword fighting movements. Still, it was an excuse to remain here, instead of dealing with the tumultuous challenges that came with rebuilding a country.
Annette huffed, and Felix lifted his gaze up in time to see her crumble up a letter.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, brow furrowed.
“Oh, just a letter from my uncle. Apparently, my uncle thinks fighting alongside the prince is not enough to convince other territories of our allegiance to the kingdom. Instead, he’s convinced my marriage to a noble who didn’t defect is what House Dominic needs,” Annette snorts, throwing the crumpled ball away.
Annette looked up, sure Felix might even smirk in amusement at the absurdity. She was surprised to see he was scowling instead. Something about him seemed... upset as he avoided her gaze. “Is something the matter?”
“No,” Felix answers, but his scowl deepens. Annette was about to press him when Felix sighed and ran a hand across his face.
“You should consider it, if it’s good for you,” Felix states, although his tone seems hesitant, his gaze still resolutely set on the floor.
“And why would it be good for me?” Annette is surprised once again, she wouldn’t have ever predicted that answer from Felix. She was too confused to try to understand the implication of his words.
“It could give you a comfortable, normal life. You wouldn’t need to worry.” Felix answers. He recalled how Annette once confided how the war left her feeling uncertain. He visibly hesitated before continuing. “I don’t know what future I can give,” he admits, broaching a subject they had been avoiding. Or, more like he was avoiding it and Annette was letting him. The letter proved, however, that he couldn’t afford to do that anymore.
Annette felt her chest swell, realizing that his response was motivated by his worry for her. She stood up, walking around her desk to kneel in front of Felix and meet his gaze. Hesitantly, she placed a hand above Felix’s. She felt his tight grip on the armrest and moved her thumb in small, circular motions in an attempt to help him relax.
“You don’t need to know the answer to that now, Felix. We’ve just been through a war, and you have matters to attend to with the dukedom and the prince.” Annette could see the turmoil in his eyes, and her mind flashed to the night she begged him to stay, when his gaze was just as tortured. She had told him she couldn’t bear to allow him to live the lonely life of a mercenary, for who would take care of him and make sure he was safe and happy? When he told her he had no interest in his noble title, she answered that he couldn’t just impulsively give up the home he and his brother grew up in, the home he returned to after fighting on the front lines with his father in the years before they met up again at the monastery. So, she suggested another alternative: Felix could teach at the Officer’s academy and leave a retainer or his uncle in charge of the dukedom while he took the time to think about what he truly wanted. Till now, she wasn’t quite sure how he agreed to stay.
“I don’t need any promises, nor do I want a normal life. We won’t ever have ‘normal’ lives Felix,” she says with a half-hearted laugh. “I’m just happy you’re here on this path with me now. Perhaps in a few months you’ll have a more clear view on what you want. And I’ll be happy to support you, no matter what path you choose.”
Felix stared in wonder at the redhead in front of him. She absolved him of his worries so easily, and further proved just how understanding and wise she was. He didn’t know it then, but the warm feeling in his chest was not just appreciation, it was love for the girl who’d held him captive for all these years. She was right; he just needed a few months to realize it.