Chapter Text
Duke Felix Hugo Fraldarius was not the kind of man who enjoyed reading letters of any sort. Anything, even sleeping and eating, was a chore if it took him from the training grounds or the true battlefield. Replying to letters was even worse, because it required thought beyond the honing of a blade or the endless pursuit of new skills or strengths. Fortunately, this letter did not require a reply.
Unfortunately that's because it was a mandatory summons.
"What is this?" he spat, nearly on the shoes of the messenger. The woman was not cowed.
"Duke Fraldarius, it is a summons from the offices of the King."
"I know that," he hissed back. He turned away before she could chide him, then, for asking. She was a messenger from the Palace in Fhirdiad after all. She did not have to be intimidated by the Duke for simply bearing a letter.
Felix took to pacing, forgetting she was there. A summons from that beast King... It wouldn't be so unheard of, except he was invoking his right to choose his bride.
'Bride,' well... That was a loose term. They'd been friends even before they went to school together at Garreg Mach, so Felix knew the King's preference for men. But after he'd gone insane, Felix wanted nothing to do with him. He didn't want him dead per se; that would plunge the Kingdom into utter chaos, something Felix didn't desire even if it meant sharpening his blade once more. And despite his madness, Dimitri at least seemed to be holding it together enough that nothing had collapsed. More likely it was his advisors keeping everything together, Felix thought bitterly.
But why him? Was this revenge? Revenge for all the times Felix called him the boar prince , for not staying by his side when he was destroyed? For not looking for him when they all thought Cornelia had executed him?
His hands shook with fury.
"And if I refuse?"
"You can't refuse." She said what he already knew.
"But he needs an heir," Felix pointed out uselessly, not needing to point out that it wasn’t something he could provide. Still, at the thought of sharing a bed with the boar, Felix’s stomach turned over slowly and rearranged itself into something less pleasant.
"You were not the only one summoned."
"The only one--" Felix stopped pacing to put all that energy into a scowl. "What, is he building a harem?" Should he really be angry about that? As if he were some jealous lover?
The woman sighed. She wasn't paid well enough for this. "I do not pretend to know the King's intentions. If I return tomorrow without you, he can call for you to be executed, as is his right."
"Tomorrow..." Felix almost choked. He wasn't being given any time to run. Of course not. And even though he doubted the King would really have him executed for not appearing at court, he shuddered to think what he might do.
So. This was the ruthless way Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd intended to rule the Kingdom of Faerghus. Felix wouldn't even be allowed time to see his friends before he was to go lie back in the King's bed and think of the country.
A tyrant, Felix thought bitterly as he swung his leg over his favorite horse. He took the blades he could carry, wondering if he'd ever have permission to use them again. Would he be nothing but a bed slave? He'd rather die.
Still, the messenger said the King was only reviewing his options, not choosing yet. It was the only reason he agreed to go in the first place. Felix would just have to hope he could convince Dimitri to have mercy. If he had to, he could flee to Almyra; surely Claude would shelter him... If he could escape at all. But his life and friends here in Faerghus, he didn't want to give that up just yet.
Surely Dimitri would not choose him. Bad-mouthed, bad-tempered, and no experience with romance and sex... Surely literally anyone else would be a better candidate.
It turned out anyone else was a group of Dimitri's old friends. People who knew Felix well and were equally as terrified. Ingrid, Mercedes, and Annette were likely in the clear and not to be chosen. They were women after all, and Annette and Mercedes were already married to one another. Still, Ingrid was worried. She might be chosen specifically to be Queen because she could produce heirs; something she had always dreaded she would be used for. It wouldn’t even be because of the Crest of Daphnel, but simply the accident of her gender.
Ashe, too, looked terrified. He had been hoping to be knighted by the King, not bedded by him. He kept sniffling into Mercedes' comforting shoulder.
Seeing that his friends had also been chosen, Felix was thinking maybe to murder the King. There would be yet another regicide on their hands.
Sylvain seemed to be the only one happy to be here, chattering on and on about how anyone should be happy for the opportunity to bed a King, and how he hoped the Margravate he was supposed to care for would go to someone else.
Sylvain slung his arm over Felix's shoulder. "Why so glum, Fe?" he teased, not heeding his warning glare. "Didn't you have a crush on His Majesty from like... Forever ago?"
Felix ripped away from where his arm, from where they were all waiting in the foyer, huddled miserably. He fingered the hilt of his sword, the sword that had butchered hundreds before. How could Dimitri have sunk so low? To terrify his only friends into giving up their dreams and their lives to serve him in this way... Had he really fallen so far?
He had seen him after the half decade since he was supposedly executed. Savage, bloodseeking, reckless and unfeeling. He thought only of killing then, and only of chasing down Edelgard and slaughtering her. But since the war was over, Felix could only have assumed he'd gotten better.
He supposed not.
They were greeted by Dedue, Dimitri's loyal retainer and their friend, stubborn and calm as usual. And, as if nothing strange were happening at all, he invited them to lay down their burdens and share a meal he had prepared for them.
"Dedue!" Ashe cried, both panicked and relieved. "What's going on? Why has His Majesty called us here? He's not really going to... To..."
Felix could see it, studied the normally expressionless lines of Dedue's face. "You sent those summons," he snapped, accusing.
They all looked at him.
Dedue did not bother to lie. He didn't even seem surprised. "I did," he replied with the sort of quietness that should not come from such an enormous person. "His Majesty requires your aid, all of you."
"But why didn't he just ask?" Mercedes tapped her lip thoughtfully, a sure sign she was worried. Felix wanted to shake some sense into her, tell her she should be more worried for herself than for a mad King.
"When have we ever seen His Majesty ask for help?" Sylvain laughed. "Dedue, he doesn't even know we're here, does he?"
The look on Dedue's face suggested that Sylvain was right, Dimitri was completely unaware of this plan.
"Right," Felix growled. "I'm leaving." And he turned to do just that, only to be met with the crossed spears of the crownsguard, barricading his escape.
"I'm sorry, but I cannot let you go just yet," Dedue said quietly. "Not until His Majesty dismisses you."
How Dedue, of all people, suddenly had the command of the crownsguard was beyond Felix. But it seemed true enough.
Felix refused to eat a single thing. Everyone else ate, though they were nervous. But at least Ingrid was pursuing justice instead of stuffing her face, demanding what was going on from the King's vassal. None of them had seen Dimitri in two years, when the war ended. They all went back to their homes and kept in touch with each other. Annette and Mercedes married, that was the last time Felix saw them all in the same room, about four months ago. But Dimitri had not come, and everyone was relieved about that.
"What's going on with His Majesty, Dedue?" Ingrid said firmly. Her tone required-no- demanded answers. "Why did you summon us? And why under the guise of a marriage summons?"
Everyone leaned forward. They all wanted to know that as well and they had a right to.
Dedue set his fork down, as placid as the frozen surface of a lake. "His Majesty is lonely."
Felix snorted, hateful, arrogant. "So you brought us here to cheer him up? Throw him a party?" he sneered. "Or maybe it wasn't a joke at all, and we're all going to be stuck here as his harem after all."
"Felix," Ashe whimpered, the last one among them who would ever speak ill of his King. He was so sure, so positive that it couldn’t be true, that his King was an ideal King who would never do such a thing, but Felix knew better.
Dedue ignored Felix's tone, as he always did. Felix hated him all the more. "His Majesty has long been tortured by the remnants of the war, and the events at Duscur," Dedue went on. "And his only friends have not reached out to him."
Mercedes looked up, more sharply than anyone had ever seen her. "That is simply not true, Dedue. I have written His Majesty countless letters, as I know Annette has."
Ashe piped up. "So have I! I-I mean not countless but..."
Even Sylvain seemed indignant. "I came here last year to see him, but you were the one who turned me away!"
Felix had nothing to contribute. He had not attempted to get into contact with the King, and he stood by that decision.
Dedue nodded at Mercedes. "I have received your letters, and His Majesty has read them. Of course, he is too busy to reply, but a letter cannot replace the comfort of your presence. And Sylvain," he frowned, the first reaction he'd had since they arrived. "You came to the palace in pursuit of Lady Vanessa and never once requested an audience with His Majesty. I turned you away at Lady Vanessa’s request."
Sylvain mumbled something about 'could have at least asked' but he didn't answer him properly.
Ingrid finally sighed, breaking the awkward silence. "Well, now that we're all here, why don't we spend some time with His Majesty? It has been a long time. And I'm sure he can clear some space in his schedule to see old friends."
The rest of them agreed, which was to Felix's clear distress. How could they all just calmly plan a lunch with the King when they had been forced here under false pretenses and weren't permitted to leave? They were hostages of the King, not 'old friends!'
He stood up abruptly, shoving the chair out from under the table and glared straight back at Dedue. "And?" He snapped. "When do you intend to let us go? Some of us have Dukedoms to lead."
Dedue's response was simple, too simple to represent what it suggested. "When His Majesty is cured."
Felix blanched. "There's no curing that beast!" he snarled, his hands clutching so hard at the table's edge that even the thick wood groaned under his fingers. "How is any of this our responsibility? He went mad after Duscur, you of all people should know that! I lost a brother then and a father to the war right after! We're all fucking suffering, Dedue! His fucking Majesty can go screw himself for all I care! Just because he's King doesn't mean he gets to own us!"
His chest heaved after saying all of that, because it was simply true, and he'd been holding it back for so long.
Dedue stood up and Felix tensed, as if the man was about to launch himself over the table and strangle him. Instead, cast his eyes to the floor, obedient. Subservient.
"The last time his Majesty was happy was with all of you, surrounded by his friends," he replied quietly. "I implore you, please save him."
Felix knew as soon as the words left Dedue’s lips that every single one of them would agree, that they all loved Dimitri, no matter who or what he was. He struggled for an excuse. He could say they'd never been close, but that was not true. Before Duscur, he, Sylvain, Ingrid, and Dimitri were the best of friends. Before the war, even though Felix treated him badly, Felix kept worrying for him, watching his back, hoping his friend would come back to him. Hoping that the darkness would eventually seep through Dimitri's heart and finally be purged by time, leave him pure as he was before; changed, perhaps, but with hope for the future.
No such luck. The very moment Edelgard came unmasked, Dimitri came unhinged. Any hope for recovery then was darkened, shunted off to hide with the rest of Felix’s untended emotions.
As far as Felix was concerned, Dimitri died that day.
Dedue could see this all, written plain as print, in Felix's eyes, amber that could never melt. He swallowed, showing the first signs of anxiety. Good. Felix thought he should feel pretty badly for dragging them all into this.
"Please," Dedue said once more, even knowing politeness could not sway Felix. "A few days. Just... stay a few days. I will let you return home if you help with His Majesty."
Felix wanted to rip the table he was gripping like paper. But not even Dimitri was strong enough to do that.
"Fine," he hissed, and he only agreed because all of his other friends might never forgive him if he didn't. "A few days. Then I'm getting the hell out of here."
He turned and stormed out. Even though he hadn't even been given a room yet, he knew Castle Fhirdiad well.
The days he spent here as a child wasn't something he could ever forget.