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It was hard to find a moment’s privacy at Garreg Mach. The monastery was built to foster community, not hide secret rendezvous.
The reinforcements from Fraldarius and eastern Faerghus didn’t help matters. They crowded the usable spaces, packed shoulder to shoulder in any place they could pray the roof wouldn’t collapse.
Not exactly the ideal setting for new romance.
One could see a certain beauty in the ruins of something old, the spaces resiliently standing against time and nature.
It could have been eerily romantic.
Well, maybe, had Felix and Annette not been there at the moment of the Monastery’s destruction.
Given the absolute lack of privacy or beauty, there was no guilt in stealing kisses hiding behind the doors of the greenhouse, one of the only places that could offer both.
The space now bore a faulty lock no one had bothered to replace. It was easy enough to sneak inside for a moment’s peace. Not much gardening to do at night.
“Is it selfish?” Annette asked quietly as if only to herself. Felix looked over his shoulder one last time and they made their exit into the courtyard.
Alone, thankfully. He could walk her to her room, squeeze an extra 30 seconds out of their encounter before he pretended he’d just been out for a bit of late night training.
“You’ve never done anything selfish in your life Annette.” Felix answered, standing too close for public eyes but unwilling to put the proper amount of space between them.
It wasn’t like anyone knew about the two of them. How he was half in love with Annette already and she, miracle of miracles, felt the same. It took every ounce of Felix’s resolve to not completely invade her space. This was the best he could do.
If anyone saw him they’d assume he was being rude, she was merely tolerating it, and they’d move on. It was fine.
She smiled up at him, tucking his bangs out of his face as he leaned into her touch. “I like this being between the two of us. Everything becomes more complicated with others involved.”
He nodded, “I agree. Who cares about the two of us anyway?”
Annette had a sneaking suspicion that the army was so desperate for good news of any sort everyone would care a great deal, actually. But she didn’t say anything, just took in how remarkable he looked when he was happy.
They were both glowing on the energy of new love. Nothing could be selfish, really, when they felt this way.
A slam of a door startled both of them out of their intimacy. Felix jumped back, Annette started drawing a spell sigil in the air.
It was a door far up the path. Hiding things was not either of their forte, truly. They were both too nervous, on edge with excitement. Annette laughed nervously, and took a quick step back to lean against her door.
They weighed the merits of secrecy versus their actual ability to pull this off.
Felix’s mouth fell into a sharp line.
“We won’t tell anyone until the war is over.”
A decision, then, though exactly what they would tell anyone was still unclear. For them to find out together.
“We won’t tell anyone until the war is won.” Annette corrected, holding out her pinky.
Felix scowled at the gesture, “Seriously?” He felt far too old and jaded for pinky promises.
“How else do you want to seal the promise?” Annette asked, exasperated. The downward slope of her mouth was just so cute- Annette’s anger always emanated out through every gesture, as if her body could not hold onto the negativity for more than a passing moment.
Felix smirked, trying his best not to be overly transparent as he said, “I have a few ideas.”
Annette was easy to sneak up on.
It wasn’t something Ashe ever did on purpose, but sometimes accidents happened.
She always forgave him after she calmed down.
Annette was busier than anyone Ashe knew, and as the war urged on it was incredibly hard to get a free moment with her without some mage hanging on her every order. He missed the old days of school, not that she ever really relaxed back then either. But there were rest days back then, time to socialize. Feasts at every moon.
There were no such things, life moved too quickly in the Kingdom army.
Ashe started to worry that his news might become old news before he finally got to broach it with Annette and it was killing him. They were friends! He wanted to hear it from her before the rest of the monastery knew.
Ashe rose at the crack of dawn for breakfast duty and, unsurprisingly, Annette appeared the moment the dining hall opened. She must have been waiting for someone. It was more typical for Annette to scarf down her breakfast and run without a moment to spare.
Today, she sat at a table with her nose buried in a book.
Lucky day!
He waited a minute, then two, for her to rise and approach. But she just kept reading.
Well, Ashe decided, she should eat warm food. They might run out of her favorite. He’d only prepared enough for fifty. They usually ran out of anything sweet by nine and it was only six thirty. Ashe did try to be a good friend.
Ashe placed a plate of pastry in front of her, but Annette didn’t even look up, too engrossed in her reading.
A few members of the dancer battalion trickled in ahead of their morning practice. He’d need to make his move now, if he ever hoped to get Annette to tell him herself.
Ashe truly didn’t mean to startle her when he asked, “So you and Felix, huh? I knew it. I just knew it!”
Annette jumped with a little shriek, and then settled, frowning at him as she asked, “Me and Felix what?”
Oh, that was how this was going to go?
Ashe grinned, “I saw you outside the old classrooms, you looked really cozy.”
An understatement, really. Annette was practically wrapped up in Felix’s arms as they waited out a rainstorm under the portico. Ashe had almost called out to them before he realized that the context made it much more akin to spying than just happening upon them.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Annette stammered, pulling her book up higher. Ashe was fairly sure her face matched her hair.
“He was blushing. I could see it from across the path. He looked so happy Annette. I couldn’t even believe it was him. And you! Wow! The first of the Blue Lions to get together.”
It really was romantic, the two of them. Just like a novel- Annette couldn’t stand Felix when they first met and now, well now they were cuddling openly .
Annette shook her head rapidly, “No, no. He was just hot. He’s from northern Faerghus, the monastery is way too hot for him. He complains about it all the time.”
Ashe had half a mind to point out that it was Lone Moon and they’d both been wearing heavy winter cloaks but his noble brain, the one that dealt with politics occasionally, finally caught up to what was going on.
“Felix doesn’t really complain though…” Ashe mumbled as he realized he would probably be better off just dropping the subject entirely before she started yelling.
Annette snorted, “Maybe he doesn’t complain to you.”
She slammed her book shut, still red around the ears though pretending she was perfectly calm.
Ashe assumed Annette would be thrilled about the whole thing. He’d always taken her for the romantic sort. Their affection for one another was so clear...
But maybe this was some kind of forbidden romance? Oh. Yes. That would make perfect sense.
The rebellious knight, and the mage whose family was from the wrong side of the war. Oh! They’d have to keep it a secret from even their closest friends. And Felix’s father was here now… He surely wouldn’t approve. Duke’s never did in stories like theirs.
Well Ashe wasn’t going to be on the villainous side of the story. He’d just watch out for them, divert attention away from the lovers while they defied the odds.
Annette changed the subject, discussing the chore schedule and Ashe nodded along as his mind spun fantasies.
How easy would it be to teach Annette to be a better liar?
Could he do it without her realizing what he was doing?
Because at this rate, everyone would know in no time at all.
It wasn’t necessarily that he was surprised to see Gilbert's daughter sitting at the war council table- Early reports indicated that all of the former Blue Lions had reconvened at Garreg Mach.
No, the thing that drove Rodrigue to attempt to say something to his son was that when Miss Dominic spoke Felix smiled.
He kept pace with his son after council, well used to Felix’s tactics for avoiding him. He normally let Felix believe he had the upper hand, but someone who made Felix smile was worth a bit of grief, “Her uncle let her come then?”
“What?” Felix hissed and froze, so clearly aware who her was even as he tried to puff up angrily.
Rodrigue was undeterred from his son’s sour attitude, “Miss Dominic. Her family is allied with the Empire.”
“I don’t care what her family is doing.”
No, he wouldn’t, would he? Even so, “Well I’m glad she is here, for your sake.”
Felix narrowed his eyes, refusing to acknowledge his point, “She’s just a classmate.”
A classmate who Felix was nicer to than everyone else. Whose name was sung out in teasing tones by Sylvain for months after they returned home from school.
Whose occasional post Felix would snatch up and dash to his room like a dragon hoarding gold.
It really was a damn shame about her family. That would be difficult politically, going forward. She was accomplished though, hopefully she’d find ways to distinguish herself on the battlefield.
He wouldn’t be surprised if she did- That was the sort of thing his son was sure to like. He didn’t suffer fools, that son of his.
The outright denial wouldn’t do, “You are notoriously poor at correspondence. Yet you always answered her letters post haste.”
Felix shoved his hands into his pockets, “As you said. Her family is allied with the Empire. I thought she might have intelligence.” Then he brushed past straight towards the training grounds.
Rodrigue tried not to laugh, “Of course. Intelligence.”
He really should find Gilbert. An engagement at the end of the war wouldn’t be too hasty if they arranged it. It could help reaffirm Western Faerghus’ role in the Kingdom once things were settled. Yes, Rodrigue decided, when they got back from Gronder he’d sit Gilbert down. Set the wheels in motion.
Ingrid was the first to know. Or, at the very least, was the first to refuse to pretend she didn’t know.
She’d been by Felix’s side from the time they were both babies, and some part in the back of her brain did consider him a fifth brother. It wasn’t like it was hard to notice the change in his demeanor whenever Annette was around. Honestly, it was fun at first, to watch how stupid he acted when the redhead was present.
He was terrible with words in general, but he never failed to speak up when he wanted to say something. Consequences of poor word choice be damned.
Therefore it was extremely odd to watch Felix correct Annette’s sword form with gentle words and compliments, rather than quickly bit out corrections.
The thing that really clinched it, made Ingrid absolutely sure something had changed, was when he went to correct Annette’s form and hesitated before he touched her. Ingrid had been on the receiving end of a form correction from Felix far too many times to not see it. Felix always grabbed or nudged whatever needed changing with little regard for appropriateness or propriety.
When it came to training Felix cared about improvement. End of list.
She’d had to explain that to Dorothea once, when the singer burst into her room confused and scandalized that Felix had grabbed her around the hips during practice.
“Look it’s not like I’m not flattered but that’s a bit forward, don’t you think?”
“No, that’s just Felix. He doesn’t care.”
“Well he should! Someone will get the wrong idea!”
So no, Felix verbally saying the correction and asking “Is this okay?” before touching Annette’s shoulder? Dead giveaway.
“When did that happen?” Ingrid asked as she took her turn on the training grounds.
“What?” Felix swung out at her full force, as if he’d not been sparring with half the dancer corps the hour before.
“Annette?” Ingrid parried, giving them both a chance to step back and start again.
Felix raised an eyebrow as he stepped back, “1180? She’s been a dancer the entire war Ingrid. Dancers use swords.”
“Oh don’t play stupid. What is it? Are you courting her?” Ingrid was too focused on Felix’s feet to catch his face, and indeed he tried to pull his classic feint as expected. She anticipated, knocking him off balance.
Felix jumped up, brushing some dirt off his face as he spat out, “Courting? Are you an idiot? There’s a war.”
“There’s an entire genre of fiction about how war breeds romance. I’m happy for you, even if you are a bit cliche.”
Felix ran at her, full force, and she laughed as he tackled her to the ground, “Shut up Ingrid.”
It would be more intimidating if he weren’t bright red.
“I yield,” Ingrid said as she pushed him off of her, conceding their spar even if Felix had fought dirty, “But I know what I saw.”
“In the greenhouse?” Felix reached for Ingrid’s hand, helping her to her feet.
“In the… No right here. What happened in the greenhouse Felix?”
Felix looked at her, blind panic in his face as he froze.
Ingrid placed her hands on her hips, waiting for an answer.
Felix blinked once, twice, turned even redder, and then threw his practice sword at her head.
“Tell no one.” He threatened as she ducked out of the way, running out as if the training grounds were on fire.
She called out to his retreating form, “What happened in the greenhouse Felix?”
Annette and Mercedes always shared a tent on marches. It was a tradition carried over from their school of sorcery days when Mercedes would regale everyone with ghost stories. Annette was fifteen, away from home for the first time, and unwilling to admit she hated anything even vaguely spooky.
Mercedes promised to keep the ghosts away and Annette climbed into her bed, holding her to it.
They both killed a man for the first time on the same day. That same terrible mission in their second month at Garreg Mach. Training in battle magic and actually using it were very different beasts.
Mercedes couldn’t sleep. Annette couldn’t sleep. Instead, they sat in Mercedes tent all night ranking various food carts in Fhirdiad to keep their minds off of the events of the day.
It stuck. By the time they headed to Faerghus to take down Miklan, Annette stopped packing a tent at all.
All that said, it was embarrassingly transparent when Annette started bringing her own tent on missions. And here they were, packing for a quick mission as Annette demanded a tent from the suppliers.
“Oh, well, Mercie you’re always in the med tent anyway these days...” Annette turned away as she trailed off, trying to find the words to continue her story. She always bit her lip right before she lied, and, yes, right on cue it found its way between her teeth.
“This has nothing to do with Felix?” Mercedes asked, grinning.
Annette jumped, “No. What? No. Why would you say that? Felix? Fraldarius?”
As if there were another Felix.
As if the two of them hadn’t been giving each other awkward looks from across the war table for weeks.
As if Annette’s room wasn’t right next to Mercedes’ with thin monastery walls made to control students, not guard the privacy of soldiers.
As if every single healer didn’t know that Felix refused to let anyone but Annette close to him with a healing spell unless he was too weak to protest or too injured for Annette to handle it. It had been that way since Gronder.
Mercedes was used to loss. She wouldn’t read too much into it. Everyone was entitled to their weak moments. If anything, she was glad Felix had someone to be weak with, now.
But right now, Felix wasn’t here and Annette was pretending she’d never heard of him.
“The very same.” Mercedes nodded. It was such fun to tease her. Annie riled up easily and found the strangest things embarrassing.
Annette had a crush on Felix from the time he started helping her with swords back in school. It wasn’t like everyone didn’t already know they held flames for one another.
They were adorably unsubtle.
She hadn’t caught them in the act, not really, but there were ever so slight changes to Annette’s routine that only a best friend could catch.
“I imagine he has his own tent.” Annette mumbled, tying the tent to the bottom of her pack.
“Do you spend a lot of time imagining Felix’s tent, Annie?”
Annette gasped and blew a little wind Mercedes’ way, blushing bright red.
“No! I! Mercie! Stop!” She hefted her pack on, struggling to balance with the new weight. It was not an elegant retreat.
Mercedes was pretty sure the tent would remain unused. Annette hated sleeping alone right before or right after a battle. But she didn’t say anything.
Mercedes had noticed, of course, how Felix couldn’t bear to be alone these days.
It was good, then, that they had each other. That they thought themselves private and subtle.
The pretense of secrecy was probably a welcome distraction.
She could mention it, of course. Have a heart to heart with her best friend about how it was wonderful to be in love, and the difficulties of caring for someone experiencing loss. She had advice, long gleaned from days in churches and healers’ tents.
But they were all struggling these days. She didn’t need to push.
It was far more fun to watch Annette try to cover her extremely blatant tracks. To play these games, even if by now they had to know everyone else knew.
Annette would admit the truth eventually. When she was ready.
Annette was permitted to play her games of pretend, and Mercedes was allowed to tease her relentlessly. It was really what best friendships were made of.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed that Felix had it bad for Annette. He’d been following her around like a stubborn guard dog, looking for any reason to pick a fight on her behalf for months.
It was worse, now.
The patience that that little mage had for his best friend really should earn her some special honor in the war.
He wondered if he should tell Annette about Felix’s childhood clinginess. How he’d cry when he was left out of things, told he was too young or too small or not yet strong enough.
Hell, Sylvain was half convinced that Felix’s first crest activation happened at age nine in some tantrum about Glenn being taken on as a Knight and Felix being left behind.
Well… They all knew how that turned out.
The point was, that everyone had their vices. Sylvain certainly had his own. But it was kind of sweet to see Felix falling back one one of his least destructive: Being an annoying, clingy, pain in the ass.
Well, it was sweet until Annette was in his seat at the war table.
Sylvain was a principled man, he liked his routines and order. Fun was fun, romance romance, but this was one step too far.
This was his seat. It was his. He’d sat in it from the first time they all returned to Garreg Mach. The chair on Felix’s left. Close to the end of the table, but not at the head where the professor commanded. He wasn’t going to be under the illusion he was in charge, and he was going to pretend like his suggestions were simply the whims of a lower ranking general.
“Hey, Annette.” Sylvain said, grasping a folio full of spell homework the Professor had told him to study that was weirdly warm no matter the temperature outside.
Annette looked up and smiled, “Hi Sylvain. Good morning. Oh! Is that the Ragnarok theorem! I had a friend in the school of sorcery who was working on that. Oh! You’ll have to tell me your thoughts. Fire just doesn’t come to me like it does with you.”
“Why would you want his thoughts?” Felix mumbled, not looking up from the dagger he was sharpening. He was constantly in motion these days, as if whenever his hands stopped moving he suddenly remembered that his father died.
Which… Maybe. It was so hard to tell. At least Felix was out of his room.
“Good morning to you too,” Sylvain grinned and his face was poised to crack when Felix rolled his eyes.
Better. This was better.
It sucked to not be able to do anything. Sylvain was the last person Felix wanted sympathy from, “We both used to wish our fathers dead daily. I just got lucky I guess.” Was the one and only word Felix had to say on the matter.
Except Sylvain really meant it when he said it, and Felix just said the words because few others would encapsulate the seriousness and depth of his hatred.
Sylvain was fairly sure he’d be out in the streets singing and drinking if he got word his father was dead. Not… Well, not clinging to a tiny mage who only seemed to tolerate him half the time.
Felix probably liked fighting with Annette.
Byleth entered the room, with Dimitri in tow. It was still odd, still weirdly unsettling to see Dimitri acting so… Well, normally. To have his presence, hear his voice. Back to his old self, if not a little more jaded.
“Sylvain can you take your seat so we can get started?” The professor asked, spreading out models of Fhirdiad over the table. As if half of them didn’t know the city like the back of their hands.
As if Byleth could add anything to the table full of nobles who’d been raised since birth to defend it.
And, he realized glumly, failed.
Sylvain shifted awkwardly, unsure of where to go. Annette looked up at him wide eyed. Then, so quickly he might have missed it, her eyes darted over to Felix and she mouthed, please, at him.
Oh. Right.
Well, if he was willing to die for Felix he should also probably be willing to be a little flexible for his sake.
Sylvain winked at her, and then turned towards Annette’s usual seat. Mercedes was sitting in the exact same clothes she’d been wearing the day before. Just a little more wrinkled. And she seemed to be missing her earrings.
Well that was a development then. He laughed softly to himself as he sat down next to her, “So where were you last night Miss Von Martriz?”
Mercedes smiled warmly, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
It was bad.
Dedue was well used to holding his emotions on the inside. Taking deep, healing breaths and clenching his jaw. Finding someone or something else to focus on besides his own feelings. It was always easier for him to process sadness or worry if he could do it with another- Otherwise he would rather not think of bad things at all.
Annette looked like she wanted to break out into a full run when Felix was hurt in Derdriu.
Dedue usually liked this placement, found the work easy and satisfying. The dancer corps had been under his protection for months- A sound move, he could stand between them and any beasts. They could make him faster, stronger, more resilient.
But Felix, fast clever Felix who was nearly untouchable on the battlefield fell to Lord Arundel and Annette screamed and made to go to him. Dedue froze, unsure what to do. They had another mission. They were supposed to be protecting the east flank.
Even so, he could see the pain and horror in her face, the conflict behind her eyes as she started to break from formation.
“Mercedes will get to him, we need to move.” He reassured her, hoping to urge her on. The dancers would only answer her- Not him. But they looked to their commander for orders that would not come.
“But- He won’t let Mercedes heal him. Dedue I need to-” She was gasping, tears in her eyes as the telltale sound of soldier’s boots crescendoed.
“Mercedes will take care of him. Felix is not lucid enough to stop her. We need to go”
“But Dedue.” She cried out, pushing at him without enough strength to budge him. It was not him she was trying to move, but the world. The world that was trying to take a loved one away from her far too soon.
He understood. But the sound of battle were getting louder and he heard Dimitri arguing with his uncle- He knew it would be over soon. Felix would be safe. He would not fall here.
Felix’s ghost would haunt Dedue if he let anything happen to Annette, and they had enough to worry about with Dimitri, better as he is these days.
There were too many ghosts following their army, and he refused to make any more.
No more ghosts. They would all survive the day.
He placed one gauntleted hand on Annette’s shoulder, looking into her eyes, deadly serious, “If you fall here, Felix will be heartbroken. You need to fight.”
She nodded glumly, wiping tears out of her eyes as she hefted her sword and cried out an order.
Dimitri was not sure he ever saw Felix as put out as when he was assigned inventory duty for a month straight. Felix had never had a great head for sums nor management, and while he could find clever solutions to complex problems, the minutiae of counting crates of potatoes and chickpeas was akin to torture.
It was also the least physical of chores, and Felix’s shoulder was only half working. He felt a bit guilty about that- Felix had taken a hit meant for him at Derdriu. He’d barely lived.
Somehow, the recovery was more annoying to him than the injury.
Gilbert had mentioned offhandedly that this sort of work might be useful to him as a duke and Felix had almost spit in his face.
The truth was, as far as Dimitri could tell, Annette was going to do fine work as a duchess. She had a great head for such things. If only she’d rest.
Dimitri approached Felix in the storehouse of the kitchens, where he was quietly writing down numbers as he hummed something painfully off tune.
“I want your council.” Dimitri announced himself.
Felix answered without missing a beat.
“Ask the professor.”
Not surprising, really. Dimitri tried not to be disappointed. He probably deserved Felix’s hatred more than anyone. But still, they were going to need to work together one day.
“They’re busy, and this sort of thing is more in your wheelhouse.”
Felix scoffed, “Management is not in my wheelhouse. Point me towards an enemy, and I’ll go. I’m sick of you pretending you’re suited to more, at least I’m honest about my purpose.”
“Felix. Please.”
Felix ignored him to write some numbers down. Dimitri stood, refusing to leave until Felix spoke to him.
“If I answer your question will you go?”
Finally. “The dancer battalion troubles me.”
Felix didn’t turn from the wall of crates, but Dimitri could see his shoulders tense as before he shot out, “Why would I know anything about the dancer battalion?”
It wasn’t necessarily convincing and Dimitri wasn’t sure if he’d wisened up in the past five years or if Felix was a worse liar than he remembered.
Not deterred, Dimitri continued, “They keep odd hours. It is concerning.”
Felix moved along the wall, counting off crates quietly as if he believed Dimitri would simply leave him alone. As if he would lose interest and wander away, drop everything.
The hazy memories Dimitri had of the past few months he was so used to Felix looming over his shoulder- it was odd to reverse the positions.
Felix sighed in frustration, “Why are you bothering me about this?”
“Given you and Annette-” Dimitri began but found himself cut off as Felix spoke.
“What about Annette?” Finally Felix turned, balling his fist around his chalk in a way that made Dimitri imagine training gauntlets.
It felt oddly tense, the accusation that lingered in the air even though Dimitri had done nothing to earn the ire. Well, that ire. Specifically.
If Felix was trying to keep whatever he and Annette had going on a secret they should stop holding hands under the war council table.
“Felix. I am not completely oblivious to the world around me.”
Felix shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms and frowning in a way that almost distracted Dimitri from how red he was turning.
“If you have a problem with Annette talk to her.”
“I do not.” Dimitri sighed, finally getting to the matter at hand, “I merely worry that they are not getting sufficient rest. Look at the battalion training schedule- They are last at night, first in the morning. How would you adjust this?”
“It’s because of where they train. They need the cathedral when it’s not in use, and they need training grounds for swords and magic. Sufficient rest between all of them. That’s why their hours are so odd. It’s not Annette’s call, she can’t do anything about it.”
Something in Felix’s tone made Dimitri realize he’d had the same worry- He’d probably made those very observations to Annette, and Felix’s explanation was likely from her very lips.
There was no changing Annette, not really. Just as there was no changing Felix. Except, of course, the obvious.
“She works very hard.”
“She does.” The warmth and pride from Felix was the most positive emotion Dimitri had seen from him in years. Maybe their friendship would never be what it was, but knowing Felix could move on, could trust others or let them in…
“You do too.”
Felix scowled, “I’m just trying to get us all out of this alive. Don’t you have somewhere better to be?”
“I need you two to stop breaking formation.” Byleth said as they gestured to the battle plan on the table.
Fort Merceus, the Stubborn Old General. Impossible to take. Or so they said.
“We don’t break formation, professor.” Annette protested, taking in the blue and white pieces meant to be her battalion.
Byleth gave her a long stare, “Sure. Either way, speed will be of the essence here. Therefore, we will need to rethink some of our tried and true placements.”
“Why the hell am I with the ranged forces?” Felix protested, his arm still in a sling.
“You’re perfectly adept at casting Felix.”
“That’s bullshit. I’m not nearly as good with magic. You’re wasting me.”
“No. I’m protecting you. You can’t take another hit like that, not with the stakes so high. You’re going to backline and protect the mages. Don’t take self sacrificing hits again, and you can be on the frontlines by Enbarr.”
“Blame the boar, he let his feelings get the better of him with his uncle.”
Byleth stared at Annette, “Yes, well… Annette, this way you can keep an eye on him.”
Annette gave a look that was clearly supposed to resemble confusion, “Why would I keep an eye on Felix, professor?”
Byleth put their head in their hands, really fed up with the whole endeavor. But what to do? Critique or console?
Tell them that absolutely everyone knew about the two of them, or pretend this was some strategic genius they hadn’t seen before?
Byleth stared deadpan at their former students, “Because you’re together and, honestly, the lengths that you two are going to hide it poorly do not bode well for either of you having a future in politics.”
“What the hell are you talking about,” Felix said, springing up from the war table.
Byleth gave him a pointed look, and a roaring laugh came over the strategy room.
“Oh thank SAINTS someone said it!” Sylvain bellowed as Dorothea smacked him gently on the arm.
“Said what?” Annette crossed her arms, “I think everyone is just reading a little far into this.”
“Annie…” Mercedes said quietly and Annette pulled a face, clearly betrayed.
Felix simmered, scanning the faces of his former Blue Lions classmates, of the former Golden Deer who had joined up with their cause, of the knights and classmates who he’d known for years.
It was at that moment Felix realized that he was an idiot.
“Fine.” Felix mumbled, “Put me with the magic users.”
“You’d end up there anyway, I’m just anticipating your moves.” The professor said, locking the teal model into place. “I’m not interested in disciplining you, you’re a grown man.”
“I said fine.” Felix half shouted, eyeing the table warily.
Annette slid further down in her seat, grateful for her natural proximity to the floor.
Felix stood awkwardly as every eye in the room fell to him.
Ingrid raised an eyebrow, “Do you have something to tell everyone?”
He huffed, “It’s nobody’s business.”
The professor stared at him, cold and unyielding. “It is my business when your feelings lead you make foolish decisions. You got hurt protecting His Highness.”
“Well are you going to imply I’m in love with him now?”
Ashe couldn’t hide the plain joy on his face and Sylvain’s grin turned even more shit eating as Felix realized what he said.
Felix had to physically resist smacking himself in the forehead for his stupidity. He could feel his face turn hotter and hotter and had half a mind to join Annette under the table or leave the war room all together. Leave the army all together.
A small voice piped up, laced with annoyance, “Felix and I are together. You all already seem to know that somehow. Can we move on now?”
Byleth usually held their emotion in, especially when it came to their students. It took a great deal for them to be affected at all. As Annette spoke, Felix turned to Annette and smiled. Both incredibly red faced but clearly oh so happy.
It made something warm and sweet pull at them deep down.
Byleth tried to hold on to that feeling as the rest of the war council was instantly, and soundly derailed.