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Felix escaped the infirmary at the earliest opportunity. He’d been clucked over enough, thank you very much. Ingrid, Sylvain and the Boar had been pecking at him for days, saying stuff like:
“You’re going to get yourself killed, idiot!”
“Maybe wait for me rather than rushing off on your own next time.”
“Felix. You’re taking too many risks. Am I supposed to be impressed?”
What was the point of fighting, if not to take risks? Holding back a single inch gave the enemy too much time to move. And those Empire bastards were something else. They hadn’t managed to take Felix’s swordhand, but it wasn’t through lack of trying. He could still feel the scored line on his shoulder left by their lance.
He needed to visit the training grounds and he needed to do it while the Faerghus Fowl were busy with eating and sleeping. If he sliced through a few training dummies, he’d feel a lot better. Or at least stop jittering with uncontained frustration.
As he grew closer to his goal, he could hear the tink of metal. Strange, at this time of night. Maybe it was Byleth. Their hours were decidedly odd. But they wouldn’t question him, unlike say -
Ferdinand von Aegir.
As soon as he glimpsed the flash of bright ginger hair, Felix considered turning back. Being beaten up by Ferdinand’s Empire brethren was why he was in this stupid state to begin with. But the more he thought about limping back to his room, the more he needed to hit something. If listening to Ferdinand prattle was the price he must pay, then so be it.
Felix seized a training sword from the rack and tried to ignore the weight of Ferdinand’s gaze as he launched his first attack on the nearest dummy.
Once he’d worked up a sweat beating seven shades out of it, he realised the tink of Ferdinand’s weapon had stopped.
“Can I help you with something?” he snapped.
“Your bladework is breathtaking.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere. What do you want?”
“I should apologise. You only got hurt because you were covering me.”
“Where did that ridiculous idea come from?”
Ferdinand flushed. “Well. The enemy had me surrounded. And I saw you heading them off, before they got a lucky hit in.”
“I just happened to be there, that’s all.”
“Really? Why? Strategically, it would have made more sense for you to proceed towards the vanguard at the east.”
Felix bristled. This conversation had been a mistake. “I had my own strategy.”
“Either way, I must thank you. Your actions saved my life. I must repay you.”
“Not interested. As I said, I just happened to be there.”
“Felix. My friend. Is there not a food stuff you are craving? A weapon you would like to obtain? What about your favourite tea?”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
Felix pondered. He remembered Ferdinand exclaiming over some of the old weaponry the Church kept in the monastery. Thanks to Ferdinand’s diligent work, that rusted old kit won them a few battles. No small thing, considering for a while they’d had little money to buy supplies with.
“Come with me.”
***
Felix rarely invited anyone into his quarters. Ferdinand hovered uncertainly near the door as Felix took down an intricately elaborate sword from where it hung on his wall. It had seen better days - the Fraldarius crest was dim and the blade blunted. Felix had been too busy staying alive to take proper care of it. He lacked patience when it came to the intricacies of equipment maintenance. His more modern blades required much less fussing.
“This was my brother’s sword. He died a few years ago.”
And just why the hell was he telling Ferdinand, anyway? But whatever, it was hardly a secret.
“I cannot imagine such a loss.”
He had expected Ferdinand to say some sentimental tripe about Glenn being safely in the arms of Sothis or protecting King Lambert in the afterlife. When he was younger, a few such people got punched. And didn’t Ferdinand believe all that knightly crap? Well, whatever. Maybe it was slightly different in Adrestia.
“You don’t have siblings?” he asked, swerving the conversation away from Glenn. Besides, he was curious. An heir and a spare was the norm for noble children. If both were crested, even better.
“Both my parents were unfaithful, so I always wondered if a sibling might pop up one day. Like in an opera.”
“Yeah, right. And then they’d probably stab you and steal off into the night with your family jewels.”
“If they came forward now, they’d be the heir of nothing. House Aegir is gone.”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
Ferdinand laughed. “Ah, yes. But I do not feel I can still call myself Ferdinand von Aegir. I haven’t been to Aegir for years. Though Ferdinand von Nowhere and Nothing doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.”
“If Aegir means so much to you, go home. Self pity doesn’t change anything.”
“I suppose you are right…and I have committed myself to this war for now. Maybe one day I will return, and hope the people can forgive me.”
“From what I heard about Duke Aegir, you’re all they’ve got left.”
In some ways, they were in the same position. Fraldarius had mourned Felix’s brother and father. Now Felix was all they had. The shoes he must fill felt like they’d never properly fit. But he knew his family would want him to lead Fraldarius and Faerghus into a new golden era. Even beyond the grave, he felt the weight of their expectation. It frightened him more than he’d care to admit.
He didn't know if he could be what they wanted. But he could at least do this one small thing for Glenn.
"Do you think you can restore this sword for me?”
Ferdinand looked it over. “May I use equipment from Adrestia? I have some oils to treat rust and grease which do not seem to be used in Faerghus.”
“Use whatever you need.”
Ferdinand nodded. “Leave it with me, my friend.”
***
Ferdinand returned Glenn’s sword the following day. The spotless blade had been sharpened to a new, dangerous point. The leather grip was clean and soft. The brass on the hilt shone like new.
Glenn was so proud of receiving this sword from the king, proof he was ready for knighthood. There'd been a special ceremony Felix almost fell asleep in
It felt like the vowing would never end. Ingrid had flown into a jealous huff afterwards, but Glenn could always talk her out of a bad mood.
Felix had been all but forgotten then. The spare, not the heir. His father tried to corral him into knightly behaviour, but even then it had been a struggle. He lacked Glenn’s easygoing temperament. He cried and fought and made a nuisance of himself. The only time he felt calm and in control was when he had a sword in his hand.
"What do you think?" Ferdinand asked. His eyes were wide, hopeful. Like a puppy asking for a pat on the head.
"You did a good job," Felix said. Even though he was a cat person, those begging eyes were hard to resist. And at the praise Ferdinand's face lit up. It was quite a thing to watch. Ever since Ferdinand joined them at Garreg Mach, he'd remained guarded. Much different from when they were at school together. Felix forgot he could look like this.
He's beautiful, said some part of him which Felix tried his best to ignore.
"I hope your brother would be pleased with it as well."
"You would have liked Glenn. He was the perfect knight, like in all those daft stories you and Ashe love to read."
"When I was younger, I always fancied myself as a knight. Prime Minister was not quite the same thing but I thought perhaps I could be both."
"Knights are meant to die for their leaders. If you were a true knight, you'd be tearing up Fodlan with Edelgard."
"Indeed. Yet another lofty goal I have failed to meet."
"Failing to die is a good thing in my book."
Ferdinand smiled at that. "I suppose that is one way to look at it. I am glad to have survived so we might converse like this. Will you have tea with me? I would love to interrogate you on your sword techniques. I have never seen someone wield a blade so effortlessly."
From anyone else, Felix would have found such flowery compliments suspicious. Ferdinand, he was learning, was always sincere. Adrestians were not known for their subtlety.
"On one condition. Show me what else you have in your weapon collection."
"Agreed! I have quite a number of swords from both Adrestia and Faerghus, as well as some beautiful antique armour. Though it pales in comparison to what I had in Aegir."
"Well, when the war is over we'll go back to Aegir and reclaim it. If that's what you want."
The way Ferdinand looked at him really wasn't fair. No one could blame Felix from reaching out to awkwardly pat his shoulder. Glenn's sword clattered to the ground as Felix found himself with a face full of soft curly hair. Ferdinand had interpreted his actions as an attempt to embrace him. While it didn't feel proper, it wasn't unpleasant. Ferdinand smelt like tea and oil and horse.
Felix patted his back. "You need to get off me now," he said, but it lacked feeling. "You're lucky you didn't end up with Glenn's sword in you."
"I'd like to see you try," said Ferdinand with some of his old schoolboy cockiness.
"If that's a challenge, you're on."
"Loser buys the tea?"
They shook on it.