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Lord Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius had a bastard child. A young son, to be exact. When Felix found out, he stared at his mother, Lady Amelia, in a daze.
"He was born about ten years ago," his mother said with a shrug. "During that time after the Tragedy. Your father…spent some time in Fhirdiad."
Mere months after the war’s end and Felix was landed with this.
“And you knew,” he replied, eyes narrowed, “all this time?”
His mother’s face was unreadable. Unlike his father, she was small. Her hair was coifed and dark brown in contrast to Felix’s blueish-black. But she had an air to her that most did not have, the confidence of a noblewoman who did not trifle with nonsense.
“Your father was an honorable man,” she said, unfazed. “He told me immediately.”
“Honorable,” Felix spat.
She did not flinch when she said the next words, only looking at him with the same blazing intent that she had leveled upon him as a child when she told him, “You are the Fraldarius heir now.”
“I want you to help me raise him,” she remarked. “His mother, Erika, died in the war. She was a florist in Fhirdiad. When Cornelia took over the capital, she had no choice but to leave. We had been supporting them in secret for years, but she wanted to raise Elias herself. She had no relatives. Her neighbor came to our door in her stead.”
Felix clenched his fists at his sides.
“You will treat him as your brother,” she commanded.
And, like a fool, Felix obliged.
He found himself days later, staring at nine-year-old Elias in the face, not knowing what to do with him. He looked just like his older brother, Glenn.
He spent a week trying to figure out if he liked fish over skewered meats, sweets over sour things. Yet another if he liked people.
Sylvain came over on a call from Fhirdiad to notify Felix that they were both summoned to the castle for a meeting with the Alliance, only to find him having a silent battle over swordsmanship with a child.
"I'll help you raise him," said Sylvain with an easy nod. That irritated Felix to no end.
"No," he replied and left it at that.
But Sylvain had found Elias in the library that afternoon with a stupid grin on his face. He gestured to the great oak doors and jumped up and down like an excited puppy. He tapped Felix’s shoulder and whispered, “Look.”
There was Elias engrossed in an adventure tale.
They discovered Elias liked stories like the one about the Tree of Life Glenn used to read to him. (“It’s like this giant tree, Felix! So big that it holds up different worlds!”) He and Glenn used to come up with other ways the stories could go, like if the legendary King Loog was a ruler of one of those worlds. Elias was not like that though. He liked stories without embellishments.
Elias would blabber about Loog’s most trusted friend, Kyphon. He would examine the way Felix tilted his sword in the training yard and liken it to their shared ancestor. Felix found it annoying. Sylvain indulged him. He tried to ignore the way he would soften when Sylvain crouched to his younger brother’s level and talk to him like Glenn used to.
When it was time to travel to the castle, Lady Amelia insisted they take Elias with them as a learning experience.
It turned out to be more of a learning experience than any of them anticipated.
“That’s the child,” Felix heard a maid whisper. He growled as he walked by. “They say he was conceived one drunken night after Lord Rodrigue found out about the murder of his elder son and King Lambert. With a commoner."
“Glenn…such a fine young man,” another said. “Died much too young in the Tragedy. And the king...they were both such close friends.”
He felt the rage boil inside him.
He stormed the king’s study before his duties began and a complaint for the head maid ready. He complained about Elias and his mother, about his father, and about Glenn. He complained the loudest about Sylvain.
"Maybe you need someone to help you," suggested Byleth. "A partner."
At first, he scowled and watched his former professor walk towards Dimitri. She motioned toward a neglected stack of papers on his desk, and the king rubbed the back of his head in a sheepish way Felix had not seen before. A smile graced his lips.
“That can’t be it,” Felix asserted.
Still, he had to check on Elias. No child should endure that kind of pain. Even Felix was not that cruel.
He strode to the courtyard and saw Sylvain talking to Elias. He hid behind a pillar.
"It's not...father I'm scared I'd disappoint," said Elias, voice wobbly. "It's Felix. What if what they’re saying is true? That I’m a disappointment?"
"All this? That's not normal," replied Sylvain with a stern voice. "You don't need to live up to that. We lived through a war. He doesn’t want you to experience that. He’d tell you that the most honorable thing to do is live for yourself."
Felix rushed away, the truth of what was said simmering like hot fire. He was angry. He was not. He was confused.
How could Sylvain know that?
But—
He turned back and marched, only to nearly crash into Sylvain.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll take you up on your offer,” he said as if the admission did not terrify him. As if it did not change him.
But Sylvain grinned. He looped an arm around his shoulders, and they walked out of the yard together. His face burned. Elias found them and latched onto Sylvain’s hand.
Like Glenn, thought Felix reluctantly. Like a proper family. A new branch amongst the trees.
He turned to Sylvain. His breath caught when he gave him the same smile Dimitri had given Byleth. Soft, gentle.
Felix’s heart pounded.
Damn it.