Work Text:
When they were students, Annette had sung about swamp beasties and blown up libraries. Bears and those 'funny ideas of food'.
Despite the war, she had always remained the same. Hardworking, cheerful, positive, optimistic. Gentle and kind. Reaching out to others and taking care of them, protective of her friends and and her own dreams and visions. He knew that she had also a side filled with grief and sadness, fierceness and ready to step in for the words she was saying. But her core remained purehearted, always looking out for others and holding him captive with her songs and her voice.
But the war changed everyone. In their own small ways. Felix wasn't a fool to not notice it. Before Sylvain had gotten married to Ingrid, he was more direct at fooling with women, not even trying to flirt with them before sleeping with them. Ingrid's voicing doubts although she was one of the most faithful in their cause and their king. Mercedes' lightly dimmed optimism and her even growing faith in the goddess. And Dimitri was no one he even needed to mention.
At first, Annette hadn't even seemed that way. Even when they had spent their hours in the greenhouse, or the pond, or even on the training grounds, she had sung songs about the latter; bears, swamp beasties, boxes, dungeons, food, anything. He had listened to every single one and only interrupted the time looking at her by blinking.
He had loved to watch her cheeks redden, enjoyed it when she had begun to stutter at the beginning of the songs and relished when she became fully confident.
Years later, when the war had found its end, peace was formed, they had wedded and even were graced with a boy, she continued to sing her songs. But this time, the song of swamp beasties were reserved for the little boy in her arms, bouncing and singing cheerfully.
But the songs she sung for him were different. Mature.
Felix listened to them anyway with unspoken joy.
"Colors weave into a spire of flame..."
Those were the words she had often hummed during the last couple of days. He had often watched her from the corner of his eyes, pursing her lips and tipping a finger against her chin. Independent from time or place, it was always the same line of words.
Even now. Right before they had to (unfortunately) attend a reception in a couple of minutes, he had lost the duel between them and had taken a seat on the bed with his hands on his thighs and his wife's hands in his hair. She had hummed the same melody again, her fingers working quick and masterfully through his strands, when the question finally left the tip of his tongue. "Working on a new song?"
The light stutter in her movement betrayed her. "Maybe," she voiced and stopped him from turning his head. "Hold still, I'm not yet done with you!"
Sighing deeply, Felix didn't hesitate to continue. "You've been working on it for long."
Annette grew slower until she suddenly halted. "I didn't know you noticed."
"I always listen to your songs. You know that." Simply because he knew that she wouldn't tolerate him moving his head, he rose his hand and put it on her wrist. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Nothing in particular." She had reached the end of his hair, finding the tips and wrapping the band around it. "I'm just not sure how to keep going. It isn't like the the Swamp Beasties Song or the Dungeon Song, but something totally different."
This is the complete opposite to her usual form: normally, Annette was sprouting with new ideas, overlapping each other with new forms and changes and new words. Expressions had been changed before and he had been there the entire time, judging and helping her to find new songs for their son to sing.
"Then why don't you continue?" When her hands left his hair, he turned his head over his shoulder and found her eyes so unusually conflicted. "The words will eventually come to you. Keep trying. I will listen."
And her lips curled up to a smile. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, placed her head in the crook of his neck and kissed his cheek. "I know. Thank you."
When he rose from his seat, put his formal coat over his shoulder and they left their chamber to descend the stairs, he could once more hear her soft voice.
"Distant sparks call to a past still unnamed..." She grinned bashfully, a little blush on her cheeks. "Bear this torch against the cold of the night. Search your soul and reawaken the undying light..."
"Every soul contains a whisper of light, gleaming faintly as it dwindles from sight..."
The picture before him was always one to reach him in a soft clutch. No callouses and no rough skin – a simple touch lighting him up from the inside and softening the aches from handling a sword ever since he was a child.
With their little boy in her arms, just six moons old and growing so quickly, Annette bounced little Celio up and down, the infant laughing brighter than bells and lighter than a feather. Accompanied by his mother's chuckle, Felix was satisfied by leaning against the door frame leading to the nursery and just letting this scene unfold before him.
Annette held the boy under his armpits, holding him up high above her head. He giggled again, Annette reflecting him and they were a sight for sore eyes. Bringing down her arms, she held the boy at her hip and kissed his forehead multiple times, nuzzling against his dark wispy locks with brushing her nose against his forehead. "Celio," he heard her whisper and he stopped breathing. "What will you be?"
His big blue eyes were resembling the sky during summer's peak, innocence and a cherubic patience emanating from the boy. For a simple moment, Felix wondered once again, like he did so many times when he sat at his crib during the night and watched him sleep, how someone like him was able to father a child like his son. "A great warrior? A great sorcerer?" Rubbing her nose against both of his cheeks, the giggles never ceased. "Oh, when you old enough, you could go to the School of Sorcery like I did! I could give you all the tips I've needed during my time! Or you could go to the Officer's academy!"
She halted in her sentence. But instead of speaking, she continued to hum the same melody on which she has been working on for moon at this point. Swinging him from side to side in her arms, gently leaning to both sides, she tucked his head under her chin and spoke in a whisper quiet enough that Felix couldn't even hear it.
It was a precious moment between mother and son. Silently, he took a step back and aimed to return to their chambers.
When he took the first step, he heard her sing once again.
"No escape, no greater fate to be made, in the end, the chains of time will not break..."
The song Annette had been working on became an unspoken topic for them. She kept thinking of other songs, singing to their son and him. A couple of years later, when they were five and Felix became a father of three healthy young boys, the song remained in his head.
Sitting side by side on the steps leading to the gardens, they watched how their oldest and second were playing tag in the wide space. Their youngest sits on his father's lap, his head leaning against his chest, his arms draped over him and quietly snoring softly. Annette giggled whenever her gaze fell to the precious sight, stroking their youngest' cheek with her finger and whispering short lyrics of the song she had been singing them as a lullaby.
Laughter filled the space. Silently, Annette leaned her head against his shoulder, nuzzling the crook of his neck. She kept on humming, the light breeze lifting her fiery strands and carrying her melodies to the sky.
"Here where we stand, hand clenched in hand, everyone caught in the struggle..."
Felix reciprocates, joining her head on his shoulder by leaning his cheek on her crown and breathing in deeply. He closed his eyes, felt the weight of his youngest on his lap, listened to his son's laughter and joy and the voice of his wife eased his mind.
"This is the day we finally find our way, stepping into our tomorrow..."
