Work Text:
Annette released a Cutting Gale, and the bandit rushing towards Felix flew back, mud splashing around him as his back hit the ground. Felix in turn shot forward, dispatching the man running towards them. The Professor had sent the pair towards the flanks, and the class was slowly closing in on the group of bandits, aiming to surround them at the edge of the forest.
Training missions usually didn’t pose much of a challenge these days, but the torrential rain complicated their attack. Two weeks prior the Professor had sent them to Fraldarius to drive off bandits, and the previous week they had gone to Magdred. When Annette woke up that morning to the sound of the downpour, she thought they’d finally get some respite, and she’d have time to prepare for next week’s ball. But Professor Byleth had other plans, and sent them to Oghma mountains.
“You don’t get to choose your battlefield, so you must be prepared for everything,” Byleth had explained as she rounded them up.
In truth, despite the excitement for the upcoming ball, an undercurrent of dread ran through the monastery. Tom—Solon had escaped, the Death Knight was back, and every month further proved that the sinister forces who plagued their year had a larger plot planned than they could imagine. The Professor in turn was relentless, sending them on missions week after week, and all Annette could think was that they were preparing for their next inevitable confrontation.
Despite her best attempts to remain unaffected, the swirling tension and anxiety stayed in the back of her mind as she fought. Annette gritted her teeth, trying her best to not lose her foothold on the slippery earth as she moved forward. The raindrops felt more like sharp pin pricks as they stung her face, and it was difficult to see clearly farther than a few feet in front of her.
But she could see one bandit giving another a small pouch.
“Don’t let them catch you,” the man said, barely audible, and the other nodded, rushing inside the cover of the forest.
Annette didn’t think. She simply followed, ignoring Felix’s call as she dived in between the tall, imposing trees.
They were betrayed by a trusted librarian, the line between ally and enemy had blurred, making anyone a possible suspect. So how could they know for sure these bandits weren’t aligned with the Flame Emperor or Solon? Maybe they had been masquerading as looters, finding another village to target like poor Remire.
Annette casted a Sagittae, but the bandit swerved around a tree, leaving the trunk to take the brunt of the attack. He knew she was on his tail now and sped up, forcing Annette to pick up her pace as well, lifting up the skirts of her mage uniform. She wished she could throw a fire spell, but even if it hadn’t been raining she would be wary to risk it deep in the woods.
The cacophony of the pouring rain and their pounding footsteps roared in her ears. The dense foliage seemed to do nothing to hinder the water’s descent as the ground was sludge beneath her.
The bandit jumped and disappeared, the only forewarning that allowed Annette to careen to a stop. She was lucky for it, as her heels barely dug into the soft earth right at the edge of a sloping cliff. The thief was sliding down the muddy hill, and Annette took only a moment to catch her breath before following.
Their descent was rapid, and when the bandit reached the ground Annette was only a few feet behind him. She lifted her arms to prepare a spell, but her foot caught in a thick root hidden by the mud, and her ankle twisted unnaturally. Her momentum caused her to fly forward, and she completed the half-prepared incantation for a Wind spell, directing it towards the ground in an attempt to soften her fall.
While that had been successful, and her body didn’t collide on the ground as painfully as it could have, her ankle screamed at her. She ignored it as she observed the escaping bandit, desperation filling her. She knew she couldn’t catch up to him in time now, and needed to think of something else.
She looked up, noticing a branch hanging loose. She directed a Cutting Gale at it, and the branch fell right in front of the bandit’s path. He stepped back and swerved to the left, but was forced to pull back as a dagger lodged itself into a tree inches away from his face.
Annette gingerly stood up, Felix immediately appearing at her side.
“Are you okay?” he mumbled.
Annette waved off his concerned look as she tried to ignore her mortification over Felix finding her face first on the ground, her dress a soiled mess.
Felix hesitated only for a second before striding over to the bandit, his sword raised. Annette followed, careful to not rest her weight on her left foot, the wind spell she was preparing causing the ends of her hair to rise.
“Listen, I didn’t do nothin’ wrong, okay?” the bandit said, lifting his arms up in surrender.
Felix kept his sword pointed at the bandit’s neck, his eyes turning to meet hers, waiting for her response.
“Then what’s in that pouch you took?” she asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I saw you take it,” Annette answered, her tone growing harsher. “If you have anything planned—”
“Planned? It’s just a bag of gold,” the man interrupted. “What do you noble brats even need it for? Don’t you have enough?”
Annette’s arms fell to her side, her anger dissipating as quickly as her spell. Of course it was a bag of gold. She should’ve realized so from the start, instead of assuming something deeper was going on.
“Go,” she said, the word bitter.
The bandit hesitated, eyeing the two students warily.
“She said go,” Felix growled, his sword remaining at the ready. “Do it before you give me a reason to strike you.”
The thief didn’t have to listen twice, sprinting away with all his might. Annette watched him, wondering about the effort and risk to their lives the bandits were willing to endure for a small pouch of gold.
Felix, a few paces in front of her, sheathed his sword and faced her. Annette turned away quickly, self-conscious over her blunder. Having forgotten her injury, she placed all her weight on her injured ankle. Pain shot like spikes up her leg, and it buckled as she let out a cry. Felix bolted forward like a flash of lightning, grabbing her waist before she could fall.
Annette blushed. It was entirely from her embarrassment she told herself. Nothing about how Felix’s hand on her side was the only source of warmth in this treacherous weather.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Annette insisted, trying to shrug Felix’s arm off.
It was bad enough she wasted both of their time coming here, forcing them away from the class, but now she was practically a deadweight. And in front of Felix of all people, who had witnessed more than enough of her falls—literal and metaphorical—while he was the epitome of discipline and restraint.
“You clearly can’t walk,” Felix retorted, tightening his hold on her.
“It’s just a light sprain, so long as I’m careful I can manage it.”
Felix suddenly let go of her, and Annette stumbled. Not to be deterred, she tried to show him she could in fact walk, but she could hardly manage a hobble. The mud causing her boots to sink inches deep certainly didn’t help matters.
“See? I can carry you,” Felix said.
Annette immediately protested, but her words fell on deaf ears as Felix hooked his arm under her legs and lifted her up. Annette was certain her face was flaming, but she still tried to cross her arms and glare at Felix, trying not to think about how close his face was to hers.
“That wasn’t fair,” she exclaimed, “you didn’t give me any warning you were going to let go.”
“Yeah, so you couldn’t hide how serious your injury is,” he replied as he walked forward.
Annette huffed. He was infuriating, and the ease with which he carried her just added salt to the wound.
“It isn’t serious,” Annette mumbled.
“And I don’t know how to use a sword,” Felix replied.
He stopped as they reached the bottom of the slope from which they came, and the sudden movement forced her to grab his arm. They both assessed the steep hill. It spanned as far as they could see on both sides, and perhaps the ascent would’ve been possible had it not been pouring, but the rain had formed a thick, turbulent river of mud.
With Annette indisposed, they wouldn’t be able to walk back to where their class was.
“I noticed a cabin on the way down. We can take shelter there until the weather lets up or someone comes for us,” Felix suggested.
Annette chewed on her lip. They didn’t know when the rain would stop, or if anyone else noticed where they went. But she had faith in her class; they weathered countless storms together and she knew they wouldn’t abandon her and Felix.
“They’ll find us,” Felix said, as if he could hear her thoughts.
His voice brokered no room for disagreement as he looked straight ahead, turning to guide them towards the cabin he saw. Wet strands of hair were plastered to his face, and Annette resisted the urge to push them aside. Just because he couldn’t currently use his hands to do it didn’t mean she had to, right?
Felix looked down and cleared his throat. “Uh, is something wrong?” he asked
Annette averted her gaze. “No, no!” she denied, her voice sounded higher to her ears.
She looked down to watch their path instead, which soon led them to the front of a decrepit cabin. Question of any inhabitants was quelled by a broken window and the tilted door that held onto its hinges for dear life.
Felix used his heel to pull the door back, then used his shoulder to further nudge it open as he stepped inside. The one-room house was clearly ransacked, whatever deemed not valuable thrown carelessly aside. All the furniture was stripped bare; a bed frame remained without a mattress and the fireplace lacked any supplies.
“I can manage now, thank you,” Annette said, scrambling to get down.
Felix made a noise of protest, but Annette insisted, so he set her down and she was able to use a counter to hold herself up. They were both in a sorry state, drenched with mud caked over their boots and the hem of their uniforms.
She may not be able to walk properly, but Annette was determined to be useful somehow. She summoned a gust of wind to dry them off, an easy spell her mother taught her long ago (Annette’s predilection for disaster had necessitated it).
“You should sit,” Felix said, walking to the middle of the room and kicking some of the stuff that littered the floor aside.
Annette limped towards the cleared area. Felix surprised her by offering his hand, which Annette used to support herself as she gingerly set herself down and rested her injured leg straight out in front of her.
Felix crouched down next to her. “Do you know if it’s swollen?”
“I’d rather not check,” Annette replied with a watery smile.
Now that the adrenaline of the fight had truly worn off, the throbbing in her ankle became harder to bear. She couldn’t imagine being able to take her boot off to inspect it.
“Mercedes can heal it soon,” Felix said. “Don’t you keep vulneraries with you?”
“Oh, right,” Annette answered, grabbing her satchel.
She always kept a ready supply of gauze, vulneraries, and snacks to bring with her on missions. Preparation was key, as they said. Annette took out one of the vials and downed the bitter drink, scrunching up her nose in the process. Still, the effect was almost immediate, dulling the ache in her ankle.
Felix’s arm rested on his knees, and as he moved to stand up, his sleeve was pulled up. Annette noticed a long cut, probably caused by a wayward tree branch. Blood had crusted on its sides, but it was big enough to warrant attention. Did it hurt him while he carried her?
“Felix,” Annette exclaimed, “let me see your arm.”
Felix turned his arm over, lowering the sleeve. “It’s just a scratch.”
Annette glared at him, scooching towards him so she could grab his arm. “Who’s the one downplaying their injury now?”
“They’re not even remotely the same,” he retorted, rolling his eyes as Annette examined the cut.
She placed her other hand over it, mumbling the incantation for a healing spell. The wound stitched closed, and Annette let go of his arm once she was satisfied.
“Was that so hard?” she teased. “You need to stop being stubborn about letting people heal you.”
Annette spoke from experience. She couldn’t begin to count the amount of times she badgered Felix to go to the infirmary, and then let her heal his various injuries once she began learning basic Faith spells. Unfortunately she still wasn’t proficient enough to do anything for her ankle, and healing oneself was harder than healing others.
“Maybe once you stop being stubborn about staying late at the library,” he retorted, the corners of his lips upturned.
Annette couldn’t help but smile back. Was it odd it felt like an achievement any time she got Felix to smile around her? Even if it was to tease her.
Felix stood up, hand on the hilt of his sword. She could sense his growing impatience, as it didn’t take long for him to begin pacing back and forth across the room, an eye kept directed toward the outside, which was still dark and gloomy. Just like her, she doubted Felix ever liked being idle.
“I’m sorry I got us into this situation,” she said, reminded once again they were stuck for the foreseeable future because of her.
Felix frowned. “You can’t control the weather or getting injured.”
Annette looked down, her hands fidgeting as she played with her nails.
“I mean for following the bandit for no reason,” she explained. “I thought he might have been connected to what’s been happening but instead I got us stranded here.”
Felix tapped his hand against the hilt of his sword, a habit she noticed somewhere along the months of the school year.
“And if he actually had been?” Felix replied. “Better to follow ten dead ends than to miss an important lead.”
Annette tentatively smiled. She would have never guessed Felix—grumpy, coarse Felix—could ever comfort her so easily with a simple sentence.
Because even if her heart hurt, as it had been since Remire and the reveal of Solon’s betrayal, she always aimed to push through. It was her promise to herself to stay on top of things this month, and the upcoming ball was one lifeline of hope she clung onto.
“You’re right,” she exclaimed, infusing the confidence she wanted to exude. “If anyone can figure out what’s going on and beat this threat, it’s our class.”
With her spirits lifted, Annette realized her hair, tied up in its loops, hadn’t dried properly even with her spell, leaving her shoulders damp. She let each tie out, combing her fingers through the strands so she could try to dry it again.
The repetitive movement made her want to hum, but she withheld the urge. Sure Felix hadn’t told anyone about her singing, but she didn’t need to tempt fate. It was hard to believe he was genuinely interested in her silly lyrics, even if he looked like one of the monastery cats waiting for scraps whenever they were paired together for chores and silence lapsed between them.
The thought made her peek a glance at him, and Annette noticed Felix was watching her, but he quickly averted his gaze away once their eyes met.
Villain. She wondered if he sensed she had wanted to sing.
Her hair was cold and damp against her neck, causing her to shiver. The shattered window didn’t help matters either. Drying her hair wouldn’t be enough, so she decided to cup her hands together, lighting a small fireball to provide some warmth.
“Come sit here, Felix,” she said, gesturing with her chin at the spell.
“I’m not cold,” he answered, continuing his incessant pacing.
“Don’t be stubborn, it’s freezing,” she insisted.
“Freezing is a Fraldarius winter,” Felix retorted. “This is nothing.”
Annette’s face puckered in annoyance. “Either you come here or I’ll walk to you.”
Felix raised an eyebrow at her, clearly not taking her threat seriously. That only served to motivate Annette, so she extinguished her source of warmth to plant her hands on the ground to try to lift herself up.
Felix audibly sighed, and Annette smiled triumphantly as he walked over and set himself on the floor next to her, the metal of his armor clanking loudly as he rested his arms on bent knees.
Annette conjured the flames again. “You could get a cold with that attitude, you know, and then you’d miss the ball.”
“The one time I’d be willing to get sick,” Felix retorted with a snort.
Annette rolled her eyes. “Right, you don’t like to have fun.”
“Yeah, because Solon and the Flame Emperor will just stop whatever they’re planning so the monastery can have fun,” he replied, the word ‘fun’ rolling off his tongue like acid.
“Are we supposed to pretend Solon didn’t ruin the lives of a village just for one experiment?” he continued. “We’re not done with them, and the ball is just distracting everyone.”
Annette felt her anger rising, even if she agreed with him about the looming threat.
“The ball isn’t just some frivolous distraction, some of us have been waiting all year for it,” she said impassionedly. “If we cancel it and just sit in fear and anticipation for the next attack, they win. They’ll have succeeded before we fight them again.”
Annette felt her eyes sting and turned away, realizing the source of her frustration. Their year at the Academy was marred by the various forces conspiring against the monastery, and her class never seemed to be able to catch a break. She had been so excited for the ball. And maybe it was silly, but spending her teenage years in the isolated Dominic had her dreaming about the day she would attend balls and finally have a use for all the dance lessons she’d taken.
“They don’t deserve any more victories,” Felix agreed, and Annette found herself able to look at him again. “But we should still keep our guard up,” he added.
“You won’t need any help with that,” grumbled Annette, but it came out more light-hearted than annoyed.
She shifted in her spot, and the slight movement caused the pain in ankle to flare, a sad reminder of her injury.
“But it all might not matter anyways,” she said, the flames in her cupped hands increasing with her emotion. “What if I can’t dance because of a broken ankle?”
“Your ankle will be fine once Mercedes heals it,” Felix replied.
Annette sighed, his words not comforting her at all. “Faith isn’t foolproof. The worse the injury, the more recuperation needed,” she said, resting her chin in her hand and pouting dejectedly. “What if no one wants to dance with me because of my slow feet?”
“That’s ridiculous,” Felix answered, and he had the gall to chuckle. He seemed to know better, though, as he lifted his hand to cover his mouth.
“It’s not funny!” she exclaimed, maintaining the ball of fire in one hand as she jerked her other arm to the side to elbow him.
“I know,” Felix answered, instinct allowing him to easily dodge her attack, “but I don’t think slow feet are going to stop someone who wants to dance with you.”
“You can’t talk, Felix. You’re not interested in any of it to have an opinion.”
Annette turned to glare at him, but pulled back when she realized how close his face was. Had they shifted closer to each other?
Shaking the thought aside, Annette sighed dramatically as she imagined how the ball would go. Everyone would have partners while she stood alone to the side, consoling herself at the deserts table. She’d be a pitiful sight, and the thought made her wilt.
“If it matters so much I’ll do it,” Felix said with a quiet voice, pulling her out of her thoughts.
“What?” Annette replied, snapping her head to the side to face him.
Felix’s initial response was to raise his hand to rub the back of his neck, his gaze averted.
“I’ll dance with you if no one else does,” he explained after a few seconds of silence.
“You would?” Annette asked.
“It’s not a big deal,” he mumbled.
Not a big deal? Minutes before he talking about how useless the ball was, it didn’t make sense that Felix would then offer to dance with her.
“Why?” she asked, and he finally looked at her.
Whatever was in his brown eyes was indecipherable, but the intensity of it made Annette’s heart rate quicken. His gaze shifted to her hair for a moment, and she felt the sudden urge to run a hand through it to fix what was certainly a mess.
It was then that it really occurred to her that Felix was sitting barely a few inches away, their shoulders nearly touching.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered, looking away.
“It’s not because you pity me, right? I don’t want—”
“It’s not,” Felix interjected.
“And you don’t have any ulterior motives?” she added, biting her lip.
Felix looked at her incredulously. “What ulterior motives would I even—” he paused, considering her words. “Would you sing?”
“No!” Annette replied, wishing she hadn’t said anything.
Felix ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated huff. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll be asked by others, anyways.”
Annette looked down at the flickering orange ball in her hands, wondering why that disappointed her. She wouldn’t have even thought of dancing with Felix if he hadn’t offered. But now that the prospect seemed unlikely, an uncomfortable weight settled on her chest.
“Felix! Annette!”
They both startled at the noise, a bit faint as the source seemed to be far away, but it was undeniable that that voice was Sylvain’s.
“Annie! Felix! Are you out there?” she then heard Mercedes call, her voice harder to hear than Sylvain’s.
Felix immediately made to stand up, but some unknown force had Annette grab his wrist.
“Thanks for… being here,” she said tentatively, her face warming. “Even if the situation was less than ideal.”
The faintest of color colored his cheekbones. “It was nothing,” he answered.
Annette let him go, and Felix strode outside, calling out to their classmates to signal their location.
She watched him stand by the doorway, his back ramrod straight as his hand rested on the hilt of his sword.
Annette could picture Sylvain and Mercie clearly, and wondered if Felix was doing the same. The two would be running towards them, even though Mercie hated running, until they found Felix outside the cabin. Sylvain would make some sort of wry comment while Mercie would use Faith to heal her leg.
She could already hear Mercie’s question once they’re alone, a patient “What happened this time?” always at the ready after many occurrences of Annette bursting into her room full of complaints over something Felix said or did.
And that’s when Annette realized she had no urge to do so this time. Sure Felix had his moments, but he assisted her when she would’ve struggled horrendously had she been alone, and he didn’t hold her blunder against her.
He had been helpful, oddly understanding, and, well… not the villain she made him out to be.