Chapter Text
Spring is in the air as Felix parks his car in the old Garreg Mach town square, flowers blooming and trees sending out their probing shoots of green as far as the eye can see. Today marks the opening of the Fódlan Fresh Farmer’s Market, a much-awaited milestone after a long, cold winter, and Felix is ready as ever for the market’s first day.
The farmer’s market started out as a hobby for Felix, a side hustle to pass the time and hone his skills as a butcher. But he quickly took a liking to it, and it soon grew into a full blown passion. At first, he only sold bags of homemade jerky, each bag handcrafted from his own recipes. He’s since branched out into all kinds of meats, carefully sourced from organic farms and hunters from all across Fódlan.
He arranges his stall—a folding table, a couple of coolers for the raw cuts, and some display shelves—then watches as his fellow vendors set up, each one propping up tent poles and and unfurling big, colorful banners advertising their wares. Dozens of different vendors line the tree-lined, cobblestone street every weekend. There are fruit and vegetable farmers, cheesemakers, potters, painters, booksellers, candlemakers, woodworkers, and many, many more that Felix couldn’t possibly name. But he’s gotten to know the vendors near his own spot especially well over the years.
To his right are Annette and Mercedes, who run a small shop together selling pastries. Felix may not be a fan of sweets, but he’s partial to the savory pies they make and often helps provide meats whenever they run out. Mercedes is one of the most experienced vendors at the market, and her business and customer service savvy helped Felix immensely when he was starting out and seeking advice. Even Annette’s bubbly attitude has grown on him, and he considers the both of them good friends.
To his left are Ashe and Dedue, whose stall is constantly mobbed by houseplant aficionados from far and wide. They have the greenest thumbs Felix has ever seen, and their dried herbs and spices are to die for—Felix frequently buys them to use in new marinades and spice rubs suggested by Dedue, who also moonlights as a chef at one of the restaurants downtown.
And across the street from him… well, it used to be occupied by Bernadetta and her handmade crafts stall. But as Felix squints his eyes to better see through the rising sun, he realizes her usual spot is empty.
“Hi there, Felix!” Ashe calls out, pausing from setting up his own stall to wave cheerily. Dedue offers Felix a small nod of acknowledgment before returning to the task of helping Ashe set up their tent, carefully placing dried herbs and little houseplants on the makeshift shelves and folding tables.
“Hello, Ashe. Dedue.” Felix nods back, then motions at the empty spot across the street from them. “Do you know what happened to Bernadetta? She’s usually here early to set up before the market gets crowded.”
“Oh, she transferred to the Enbarr market a few towns over.” Ashe says.
“That’s too bad,” Felix laments. He’d developed a liking for the mousy, purple-haired girl and her sewn goods. She was nice, quiet, and mostly kept to herself. Felix couldn’t have asked for a better neighbor. “Who’s taking her place?”
“Haven’t you heard? We’ve got a new vendor on the block this year.” Annette has the usual spring in her step as she bounds over. Mercedes follows close behind, still dusting off the flour from her apron from this morning’s batch of sweets.
“A new vendor?” Felix asks.
“It was explained in Seteth’s weekly email,” Dedue says.
Mercedes nods in agreement. ”You do read those, don’t you Felix? It’s been all anyone at the market has been talking about.”
“Hmm? Yeah, sure.” In reality, Felix has better things to do than peruse newsletters from the Fódlan Fresh organizers—at least, he’d like to think so. “Anyway, who’s the new vendor?
“It’s going to be a florist’s stand!” Annette pipes up. “I can just see it now—shades of all sorts of blooms in all colors of the rainbow spilling out onto the sidewalk and brightening up the whole market!”
Ashe nods. “It’ll be great having another plant expert around. Dedue and I love selling houseplants, but flowers are a whole different business. Maybe we could set up an exchange.”
“Ooh!” Annette’s bright blue eyes are wide with excitement. “Do you think they’d be interested in trading bouquets for some of our pastries, Mercie?”
Mercedes smiles. “I sure hope so, Annie. That would be wonderful.”
Annette clasps her hands together. “Aren’t you excited, Felix?”
Felix huffs. He’d always found cut flowers to be an enormous waste of money. At least Ashe and Dude’s plants are useful—herbs are good for cooking, and houseplants last a hell of a lot longer than any bouquet ever will. Annette must have noticed his lack of enthusiasm; she’s giving him that sad look that never fails to make him feel awful for hurting her feelings.
“I’m sure it will be great,” Felix says, forcing a smile.
“Oh, that must be them now!” Ashe exclaims, pointing toward a van trundling down the street in their direction.
The van in question is unlike any vehicle Felix has ever seen. It’s a typical work van, but its paint job is anything but boring—the sides, front, back, and even the bumpers are covered with hundreds of flowers in every color imaginable. Peonies blossom across the front grill, slowly transitioning into fields of bright daisies and boughs of honeysuckle towards the back, while twisting vines of climbing roses wrap around the entirety of the van, making it look like a veritable greenhouse on wheels. It’s a far cry from the nondescript trucks most of the vendors use to haul their goods around, and Felix is simultaneously overwhelmed and intrigued.
They all watch with bated breath as the driver parks adjacent to the empty vendor spot, then swings open the driver’s side door and steps out into the morning light.
The first thing Felix notices is the man’s hair, wavy and bright copper like pennies shimmering at the bottom of a wishing well. He’s tall—far taller than Felix judging by how he unfolds himself from the van and stands up straight to stretch, showcasing a broad set of shoulders and muscled arms that strain the fibers of his white cotton T-shirt. Felix watches, entranced, as the man turns around to reveal a handsome, friendly face and a smile so dazzling Felix is nearly blinded from all the way across the street.
Felix tears his gaze away immediately, already feeling his pulse quicken in response.
Annette bobs up and down on the balls of her feet, tittering with excitement. “Let’s go say hi to the florist!”
“We should let him set up his things first,” Dedue suggests. “The market opens in half an hour.”
“We can be quick about it,” Ashe says. “We have to at least give him a warm welcome!”
Mercedes nods. “I suppose that’s fine. What do you think, Felix?”
Felix snaps back to attention, desperately trying to get his heartbeat under control. “I’ll stay here. I have to, um, make sure all the meat is okay.”
He gets a few strange looks thrown his way, but Felix is soon left mercifully alone as the other four go over to greet the newcomer. It’s not that he’s always this antisocial—just most of the time. And in this specific instance, he’s not sure if he’d be able to compose himself if he had to meet the man face to face.
But the florist seems to have noticed Felix’s obvious attempt to avoid his attentions. Even after Annette, Mercedes, Dedue, and Ashe have introduced themselves and returned to the their posts as the market opens, he keeps shooting looks at Felix from across the way. Felix tries to ignore it, but he’s so thrown off that he barely even notices when his first customer of the day walks up to his stall. Felix stumbles through the transaction, not at all his usual cool and collected self. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes once he has a moment alone, trying to center himself and get that frustratingly perfect face far out of his mind.
“Hey there!”
To his horror, Felix opens his eyes to find the man walking directly towards him, flowers in hand. Felix realizes with an internal groan that the man is even more handsome up close. He has freckles, and lots of them—they’re sprinkled like pollen across the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, and even all over his arms, clusters of tiny, golden specks that Felix wants desperately to run his fingers over.
“I’m not interested in buying anything from you,” Felix preempts. No matter how beautiful the man is, he’s not letting his guard down—they’re all at the farmer’s market for a reason, and that reason is selling goods. He’s not going to let some newcomer sucker him into a sale, no matter what they look like.
The man shakes his head, then raises his hand and approaches Felix slowly, like he’s trying not to spook off a wild animal. “No soliciting here, I promise. I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Sylvain.”
Felix stares at Sylvain’s outstretched hand for an awkwardly long period of time. Most people would have given up by now, but Sylvain’s smile doesn’t even falter as the seconds tick by and he waits for Felix to respond. Finally, Felix gives in and grasps Sylvain’s hand to shake it roughly up and down, but Sylvain doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest by his less-than-warm greeting.
“I’m Felix,” Felix grunts.
“Ah, you must be the butcher!” Sylvain says, chocolate eyes fixed on Felix’s own.
“I am.”
“I’ve heard a lot about your meats, you know.”
What did they tell him? Felix glances over at Mercedes and Annette and then Dedue and Ashe. He tries valiantly to ignore the double entendre, fighting against the blush rapidly darkening his cheeks. “Um, thanks. And you’re the florist?”
Sylvain stares down at the flowers in his hand as Felix realizes just how stupid his sad attempt at making conversation was. But Sylvain takes it in stride, simply nodding and pointing toward his van.
“Oh, yeah. I’m new in town, see. Used to sell my flowers over in Fhirdiad, but I decided it was time for a change in scenery.” He looks over his shoulder back at his stall, where people are staring to gather to admire the dozens of beautiful arrangements on display. “Well, have to get going. Looks like I have a few customers to attend to. But it was nice meeting you, Felix.”
Before Felix can react, Sylvain hands him a bouquet of shockingly bright yellow flowers. Felix glares down at the bouquet, then back up at Sylvain.
“I said I didn’t want—“
“Don’t worry. That one’s on the house. Think of it as a thank you for welcoming me to the market.”
And he leaves Felix standing there like an idiot, the bouquet still clasped in his hands as he watches Sylvain saunter back to his stall across the way.
“I see you met Sylvain.”
Felix whirls around to find Ashe staring at him, eyes fixed on the bouquet.
“He seems nice, don’t you think?” Ashe offers. “It’s good to have new faces around here.”
Especially when the new face looks like that, Felix thinks.
“He gave me this,” Felix says, shaking the bouquet aggressively in front of Ashe’s wide, gray-green eyes. A few petals fall to the ground, but most of the flowers stay perfectly upright, their bright, golden faces shining up at him like tiny suns. “What are these, anyway?”
“Coreopsis,” Ashe says.
Felix frowns. “Is that some kind of disease?”
“That’s the name of the flower Sylvain gave you.” Ashe shakes his head, exasperation clear in his voice. “They’re really nice, Felix.”
“I don’t need any stupid flowers.”
“Nobody needs flowers, Felix. Flowers are… hmm, how do I put this.” Ashe pauses, resting his chin on his hand, deep in thought. “Flowers are special. They brighten people’s days and make beautiful, wonderful gifts. Some flowers even have specific meanings depending on the type and color.”
“So what does this one mean?”
“Well, I’m not exactly a flower expert,” Ashe admits. “Herbs are more my area of expertise. But I bet Dedue would know if you asked.”
The absolute last thing Felix wants to do right now is ask Dedue about some sappy floral nonsense, so he simply nods and marches back to his stall, trying to shove his conversation with Sylvain far out of his mind.
The rest of the morning passes without incident, and come the afternoon, Felix has barely spent more than a few hours thinking about Sylvain. He starts packing up at the end of the day, and Sylvain’s silly little bouquet catches his eye once more as he loads the last of his things into his car.
He picks up the bouquet and stares at it accusingly. He has half a mind to throw away the damn thing. But when Felix finally has everything ready to go, he carefully tucks the bouquet in his cupholder as he pulls out of the market and starts on the long journey home.