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It was strange, if Felix let himself think about it. For so many years, he’d spent his whole life with such a strict schedule. After his brother’s death, he’d trained the same time every day so his father could not bother him. At the Academy, there was the surprisingly rigid schedule of the Professor’s. During the war, rest was hardly possible. And after it, he had to work as many hours as possible in a day to ensure the kingdom didn’t crumble over bureaucratic nonsense.
But now…now it didn’t seem utterly careless to let himself remain beneath the covers, or to even waste away a day in bed. In fact, it was kind of encouraged; if Dimitri wasn’t eagerly trying to keep him in bed to rest, then the staff certainly would “imply” it every thirty minutes or so.
Today was…well, it was more an indulgence of his own choosing.
He’d actually intended to get up early and get some training in. But the sun had come in so gradually, slow to enter through their drawn curtains, likely hidden behind morning clouds. It had left the room with a sharper chill, making it more undesirable than usual to leave his bed and step onto the stone. And that was even less appealing when he compared it to the body absolutely radiating heat beside him, its owner still soundly asleep.
And perhaps that was the most persuasive aspect. Even now, Dimitri usually didn’t sleep well. While his external stresses were significantly smaller as of late, it didn’t help him sleep any better. Days like this were a rarity, one Felix refused to ignore.
So, for the last hour he lay there, watching as Dimitri slept. On occasion, he let his mind run over his possibilities for handling what was left of his planned day—and he let his thoughts wander to wherever he let them take him. It was…kind of pleasant, really.
Felix was snapped from his thoughts as Dimitri’s eyebrows knitted together, his lips curling as his fingers twitched and clenched tighter into his pillow. Even in his sleep, he bit down on his noises—though it did little to conceal the whines and groans as they resonated in his chest.
Felix sighed softly, reaching up to smooth the wrinkle between Dimitri’s brows with his thumb. He brushed across the skin slowly, softly—hoping he could provide relief while letting Dimitri continue to rest. He needed it, and—
Dimitri blinked awake, eye slow to focus.
Well, so much for that.
Felix watched as Dimitri’s gaze slid across the room, registering the sun’s position in the sky before settling back on Felix. There was a brightness in his eye that Felix admittedly adored, his finger tracing Dimitri’s cheekbone just to watch the way the color seemed to shift in the morning sun.
“Good morning,” Dimitri whispered, voice still thick with sleep.
“Mm.”
“Sleep well?”
“Well enough.” Felix’s fingers traced along the line of Dimitri’s jaw, tracing down his throat, before settling along his collarbone. “You were clingy.”
“Is that so?” Dimitri smiled. “I apologize.”
Felix snorted. Dimitri didn’t look even a little guilty.
“Is that why you’re still in bed?” Dimitri’s arms settled on Felix’s hips, as if he feared talking about it would have Felix running. He didn’t pull Felix close, at least, but the temptation was obviously there.
“No.” Felix let his fingertips’ journey continue, following the firm line of Dimitri’s shoulder and along his arm. There, the pads ran over a knotted scar, twisted and stiff even though it was clear that it was quite old. It wasn’t a new scar—Felix was familiar with each and every one—but it was one of the few Dimitri hadn’t spoken about. One of the few that, when prodded, he just had that far-away look on his face, lips pressed together as his mind clearly wandered.
And, considering that Felix wanted him here, he hadn’t asked more than twice.
But mornings were different. Dimitri was often more open in the morning, when he still felt safe and comfortable in his own bed. It was the only time he left himself truly vulnerable, even if Felix was there beside him during the day.
“I was…,” Felix let his face trace over the lines of the scar, knowing it fell over his shoulder and reached further down his back, “wondering about this.”
Dimitri blinked, his expression still open. That it didn’t turn into something upset or bland was a start.
What Felix didn’t expect, though, was the smile that formed on Dimitri’s lips. “What of it?”
Felix let his fingers pause to where the scar ended just above Dimitri’s heart. “How you got it.”
“You don’t know?”
“You never told me.”
Dimitri chuckled softly, his hand shifting to cover Felix’s. “I didn’t believe I needed to.”
“Why’s that?”
“I thought,” his fingers brushed over Felix’s knuckles, “you might remember it.”
Felix’s eyes narrowed, eyebrows scrunching.
“You were there, Felix.”
“I don’t recall—”
No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t that he didn’t remember. It had always been that he hadn’t wanted to. So he’d let himself forget.
☙
Felix exhaled sharply, every breath just short of enough as he pushed himself through the brush and forest. If he controlled his breathing, he would make it further. If he managed to run far enough, then he would certainly catch this damn beast. It couldn’t run forever, after all.
And he was pretty sure that it lacked the stamina of even the average demonic beast. After all, the other students had done quite a number on it before it ran off; its whelps were dead, it was injured enough to leave trails of blood behind it, and it was big enough that the forest served as a moderate obstacle. It was likely that, by the time he caught up with it, it would be too weak to fight back.
But it wasn’t wholly insulting that he was sent to basically kill a wounded animal. Because the fact remained: it was still a demonic beast. If it wasn’t personally handled, there was a good chance that it would end up finding a place to rest and recover. And then this problem would begin anew. So, since he was the fastest among the Blue Lions—and the most likely to be able to take a hit if it was stronger than they thought—it only made sense that he went in to finish the job.
So he didn’t begrudge the Professor for dispatching him. In fact, he was glad for the opportunity. If the creature was still lively, it would be a fun battle ahead of him. A chance to prove that he could face one of these things and still remain standing.
Of course, he was a better fighter than he was a tracker.
Felix cursed as the trail of blood stopped, as the foliage around him seemed as undisturbed as the rest. His gaze snapped around; there was no way he lost the thing, not even slightly. So it was hiding—it had to be.
But the issue was where.
There were some spots around him where it obviously couldn’t be hiding—places that were too small or too undisturbed or too out in the open. In theory, he could just pick from that which remained, but if he went the wrong way…
Felix chewed at the inside of his cheek. It was unreasonable to chase with nothing. He just needed a sign of some sort—a branch breaking, leaves rustling, or—
The crack of a branch sounded behind him, significant but certainly not that of a beast. But if it was moving carefully, if it had somehow gotten around him—Felix spun on his heel, blade brandished. He was not going to be caught unaware by it. He was the hunter, not the hunted.
And what faced him was a beast, but it certainly wasn’t the one he’d been ready for. Felix scoffed as Dimitri stepped into the clearing, his cheeks flushed as he ducked under a large branch.
“You, ah, you shouldn’t run ahead, Felix,” Dimitri breathed, hand on his chest as he tried to catch his breath. His hair was absolutely covered in small leaves and twigs—an utter mess likely ignorant of how absurd he looked right now. “You’ll get—”
Felix rolled his eyes, gaze flicking back to the tree line. “Not all of us are as loud and clumsy as you, Boar.”
Aside from Dimitri’s breathing, the forest itself was still quiet. There was no way the creature could move without Felix noticing. He’d been close. He would know. Which meant that it was still sitting there, waiting.
But waiting for what?
“I know the Professor trusts you, Felix,” Dimitri pressed on, utterly ignorant to the situation. “But she hasn’t learned all our limits yet. You could have been seriously hurt.”
Of course, it was hard to know where it was with Dimitri still yammering on.
“Perhaps I should speak with her about it. I know you detest my presence, but even Sylvain or Ingrid could—”
“Will you shut up?” Felix snapped, turning on his once-friend. “It’s still here and—”
Dimitri’s wide eyes were his only warning before he was slammed to the floor, thrown onto his back and pressed into the dirt by something heavier than him. He could only make our the flash of silver and blonde above him before flames curled around him—the heat sucking the air from around him and nearly unbearable.
But it was quick, short-lived from an exhausted beast. And he was still very much alive.
Felix shoved Dimitri off of him, the color of his uniform and hair obvious with his senses intact. He didn’t have enough time to consider why Dimitri was on top of him—there wasn’t the time for that. There were only a few seconds before the beast would be able to attack again—just enough time for him to cut it down.
He ran across the clearing and toward the source of the flame—the beast surrounded by fallen trees and clearly stunned by its own attack. Caged in by its own shelter, it wasn’t able to dodge out of the way, not able to do anything but watch its own fate reflected in Felix’s blade.
Felix scoffed as the creature collapsed to the ground, dissolving into the foliage in a mixture of black ooze and smoke. His blade slid into its sheath, the victory not nearly as satisfying as he would have liked. It would have been better, he knew, for its death to come from anything but its own cowardice, for its last breath to come from head-to-head combat instead.
Well, it was clear of late that he had little choice when it came to his own victories. Battles just weren’t as clear-cut as those in tales. Not that he had expected them to be, but he had expected something.
He sighed, heading back toward the clearing where Dimitri had merely gotten in the way. By now, the prince was likely embarrassed by his own absurdity, and had probably fled before he was left to deal with Felix’s reprimands. Not that Dimitri was a coward—no, that wasn’t the right word—but he certainly didn’t fancy constantly hearing the reminders of what he had become.
Instead, he’d probably have gone back the way he came. He would make himself useful in some manner—overeager and enthusiastic—telling the Professor of the victory and the fact that the rest could all be at ease now. Everyone would cheer the prince, pleased as he acted like everything was perfectly fine, like he always did.
Maybe Felix could take his sweet time in joining the others. Listening to all that nonsense only soured his stomach. If he took long enough, they’d all be ready to go, too impatient to ask him any of the ridiculous details.
Then again, if he took too long, they would have thought something happened. And if Dimitri had returned alone after clearly giving chase, then—
Felix froze as he stepped back into the clearing, eyes widening as they settled on the figure still curled on the floor where Felix shoved him.
Instinct made him wonder if this was just another pathetic attempt at pretending to be normal. At pretending that anything Felix could do would actually wound him—that it wouldn’t automatically be shrugged off as he surrounded himself with others who refused to see that truth. It was the same part that made him want to storm past him, to give the report to the Professor himself, if Dimitri refused to be useful.
A cut-off gasp made those thoughts burn to ash.
Felix didn’t even have to wait before the sound appeared to be the only thing in his head—sharp breaths that were constantly cut off too soon and certainly not enough to fill his lungs. It was like he was trying to hold his breath—only to be wholly incapable of it. Each breath came quick and irregular, nearly soundless except for the shift of air.
Felix huffed, stepping toward the direction of the waiting others. Dimitri had never been a great actor, had never really been one to…
“Damn it,” he grumbled, turning on his heel and toward Dimitri.
It wasn’t something personal. He had no real concern about the boar. This was just…being cautious. If he left Dimitri behind, the others would certainly ask about him. And, if something had gone wrong, Felix would certainly be the one blamed for it. Nevermind the fact that Dimitri shouldn’t have been here in the first place and—
Felix felt his stomach turn at the sight in front of him. Dimitri was curled into a tight ball, hugging himself tightly as if it might protect him from the outside world. Perhaps it did, but it didn’t hide the way his cloak was practically charred to nothing, the fabric beneath charred and damaged. As he stepped closer, he could even make out where blisters already were forming along Dimitri’s shoulder, the skin as red and inflamed as the Black Eagle’s colors. And he could tell, even here, that the damage lingered below the confines of what remained of his tunic.
Something burned in Felix’s chest, making his breaths shallow like that beast had wrapped its claws around his chest.
Anger. It had to be anger.
After all, Dimitri wouldn’t have been injured if he had simply accepted that Felix would prefer he wasn’t around at all.
Jaw clenched and his temple beading with sweat, Dimitri looked up at Felix. His eye had gone dark, lashes fluttering as he struggled to maintain his composure. And yet, he still had the audacity to smile.
“Ah,” Dimitri breathed, a whine just at the edge of his voice, “you’re okay.”
Felix snarled, one hand wrapping around Dimitri’s arm and dragging him to his feet. Dimitri’s pained cry twisted a knot in his stomach—though he imagined the cry of anything would, if miserable enough—but there were no alternatives. He didn’t have any healing items, so he had to take Dimitri to a healer. And—while he could potentially bring a healer here, it was too risky—if there were any other beasts, they’d take advantage of the injured prince. Even if Felix and Mercedes returned quickly, they might return to nothing but a pool of blood.
“Stop squirming,” Felix hissed through his teeth, wrapping Dimitri’s arm around his shoulder and hooking his other fingers into his belt. It was awkward, with Dimitri taller than him and not being helpful at all, but it was manageable. It was at least enough that Felix could support both of their weights, and could drag him into the foliage with no more difficulty than expected.
“I,” Dimitri made the smallest, most pathetic noise as his body jerked instinctively, “apologize.”
Felix adjusted his grip, eying where the burn seemed worst. He wasn’t holding Dimitri by the burned side, but that hadn’t meant the flames hadn’t licked around him, burning where Felix couldn’t see.
And Felix…he’d been entirely unharmed. He had no way to gauge how it affected Dimitri.
“The hell were you thinking?” Felix growled, taking a branch to the face so it didn’t brush against Dimitri’s injury. “I didn’t need your help.”
Dimitri chuckled, but it was weak, breathy. “Old habits, I suppose.”
That was absurd. “I’ve never needed you to protect me.” The very thought had him prickling, both offended for his past self and for the fact that he was upset about it in the first place. As if he ever wanted Dimitri to protect him. “And I don’t want it now.”
“Forgive me,” Dimitri muttered, his head nudging against Felix’s shoulder as it lolled forward. “That was not…my intention.”
Felix sneered, glaring at the darkness still reaching into the distance. He wished for nothing more than to arrive at their camp, to just toss Dimitri in front of Mercedes for everyone else to handle. This was infuriating.
“You used to protect me so often,” Dimitri muttered. “When we were young. You…were wounded so often for my sake.”
Felix’s grip tightened on Dimitri in warning. He didn’t need to be reminded of his foolishness in his youth; he was desperate to prove himself as the rightful Shield, to do whatever it took to protect his brother. If it meant he got hurt for Dimitri’s sake, then he hadn’t minded. It was for a good cause, in his head.
What utter foolishness.
“I’ve no intention of shielding an animal,” Felix scoffed.
“I know,” Dimitri sounded unsurprised. Well, at least he still had some sensibility to him. “I just wished to…to return the favor. Even once.”
“Well, you didn’t protect me,” Felix argued, shifting his direction slightly toward the sound of familiar yells. “If you hadn’t shown up, I would have handled it. I wouldn’t be stuck dragging you back to a healer.”
Dimitri hummed, the sound low and thoughtful. “I suppose you’re right. My apologies.”
☙
“You got it being an idiot,” Felix huffed, fingers dancing along Dimitri’s shoulder where the knot of scars was the most dense. The burns had been worse—far worse—and the fact that the scars were so minimal now was merely proof of Mercedes’ ability.
Dimitri hummed, his hand settling over Felix’s. The look in his eye was still fond, something Felix still had a hard time bearing directly. But he was getting better at it. “I merely wished to protect you.”
Felix rolled his eyes. “I didn’t need you to protect me,” he argued. “You got in the way.”
Dimitri laughed, shifting so he could press a kiss along Felix’s jaw. He made a small, delighted hum as Felix tilted his chin back to allow him access to his throat—an invitation Dimitri eagerly claimed.
“I only wished,” Dimitri’s breath was warm against his pulse point, “to keep you safe.” His kiss was biting now, just on the pleasant side of pain. “I still do.”
“Idiot then, idiot now,” Felix huffed, nails curling against Dimitri’s skin.
“I recall,” Dimitri nuzzled the mark affectionately, “you were worried about me. As you are now.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You didn’t stop speaking to me till we rejoined the others. And, when we did, you would not leave my side. You kept demanding to know if I was awake. If I was aware.”
Felix scowled. Perhaps he didn’t entirely agree with the decisions of his youth, but it was a different thing entirely to be accused of doing something he most certainly hadn’t. He only stayed by Dimitri’s side because he was sure he’d get an earful if Dimitri’s state wound up deteriorating. And, besides, he needed to be there to defend himself in case the others started accusing him of getting their prince hurt.
At least, that had been what he told himself. But, if he thought about it, he hadn’t really cared when the others interrogated him. He’d barely even registered their tones, his responses bland and precise. He’d been too focused on the way Dimitri struggled to breathe, on how his body trembled even as Mercedes applied her faith magic. He’d only demanded a response from Dimitri when it seemed the other might pass out—because he couldn’t stand the thought of Dimitri not waking again.
Perhaps it hadn’t been affection then, not like what had bloomed between them now, but Felix would be lying if he said he hadn’t cared at all.
“It was relieving,” Dimitri mused, “to know you didn’t hate me so much that you couldn’t worry over me.”
Felix groaned, shifting so he could sit up and straddle Dimitri. His fingers carded through Dimitri’s messy fringe, pushing it away from his face. “You’re making a lot of assumptions.”
Dimitri smiled, his hand brushing up Felix’s thigh, where there was still a scar from one of Edelgard’s attacks in the final battle. “Was I wrong?”
Felix sighed, letting his fingers trace Dimitri’s face. “No.”
Dimitri’s smile was bright in a way that outshone the morning sun. It was utterly unbearable.
“But do that again,” Felix grumbled, pinching Dimitri’s cheek, “and I will personally murder you myself.”
Dimitri chuckled. “I shall bear that in mind,” he offered—though in a way that Felix had learned to mean that it had gone in one ear and right out the other.
Felix scoffed, leaning down to steal a kiss. He hummed as Dimitri’s fingers ran through his hair. If anything, it only meant that he had to be more proactive in protecting the one thing he valued above all else. After all, what sort of Shield would he be if Dimitri beat him to it again?