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It has barely been two hours since the fall of the Adrestian Emperor and the official end of the war, yet Byleth was still working.
The sun was at its peak when their army first engaged Imperial troops at Enbarr. When Edelgard finally fell, and her troops either defeated or surrendered, the sun had descended behind the horizon. The golden glow of sunset had bathed the empire's capital when their army walked out, victorious.
King Dimitri - as Byleth and the others were to call him in front of their troops and allies - made the executive decision to wait until tomorrow morning to begin the march back to Fhirdiad, which was welcomed with relief. The battle was long and arduous, with many needing to rest their weary souls or heal their many wounds.
Unfortunately for Byleth, she was one of the few who didn't get to rest. Dimitri had asked her and a few others to do a final sweep of the Imperial Palace, just if they missed anything. So, instead of lying down like she wanted to, she was wandering the halls of residence of the former emperor. So far, all she had run into were traps set up in abandoned bedrooms and offices.
Byleth couldn't help her sigh as she encountered yet another office, even if this one looked more used than the others. Stepping inside, she noticed papers that littered the desk, maps that hung from the walls, books scattered on the floor, and a small cot in the far corner.
It took until seeing who a few letters on the desk were addressed to that Byleth figured it out.
"So this was Edelgard's personal office," Byleth murmured to herself. How she felt about Edelgard was too complicated, so much so that she tucked those feelings away to unpack them at another time.
She began scanning the letters and other official-looking papers. The documents themselves weren't too interesting, just some forms that detailed the state of some Noble Houses, a report on supplies for the Imperial Army, and a seemingly random piece of paper with a list of names that she unearthed from under a tome of advanced Reason Magic.
However, at a second glance, Byleth recognized one of the names.
Solon.
The one who ‘experimented’ on the people of Remire Village and the one who ensured her father's death.
Byleth looked more closely. Most of the names on the list were crossed off, including Solon’s. Next to one of them, Thales, was a small inscribed note.
Thales fell at Derdriu. Elimination of TWSITD close at hand.
That’s Hubert’s handwriting, Byleth thought, her brow furrowed. Who is Thales? Did he fall while Claude was still in charge, while we were there, or was he felled by one of the people we left in charge there? And who, or what, is TWSITD?
"Byleth."
Yanked from her thoughts, she glanced up, and at the sight of the man in the doorway, the corners of her mouth tilted up in what could possibly be seen as a smile if one squinted. "Felix."
The blue-haired man stepped inside, a frown on his lips. “How long have you been here? The sun has gone down already.”
Byleth blinked. “I . . . hadn’t noticed.”
Felix scoffed. “Clearly.” There was no real venom in his voice, and they both knew it. “How much longer are you planning on staying?”
Byleth shook her head. “Not long, I’ll be done in a minute. You don’t need to worry about me.”
The Mortal Savant rolled his eyes. “I’m not worrying. I just don’t want to hear Ingrid and Mercedes scolding me for leaving you alone or see Bernadetta and Marianne give me their doe-eyed sad looks for ‘abandoning’ you.”
His excuse was halfhearted at best, but Byleth smiled and went along with it. “Of course.”
Felix rolled his eyes again, but a hint of a smile was tugging at his lips. “Don’t take too long, okay?” he said as he looked at her, his gaze softening for the briefest of moments before he turned and walked out.
As soon as he left, Byleth’s gaze fell to the desk in front of her, her eyes unseeing.
Things between her and Felix were . . . not exactly tense per se, but the air between them was definitely charged with something.
Byleth cannot pinpoint exactly when things changed between them, but she can remember when she realized it.
”Let’s go again.”
Despite how tired she was, Byleth couldn’t suppress her smile. “We’ve been sparring since the sun was over our heads,” she responded through her deep breaths. “It has dipped below the horizon now. Surely you’re tired?”
Felix narrowed his eyes at her even as he heaved his own deep breaths. “Is that your way of saying you are?” he challenged. “Did the events of yesterday exhaust you that much?”
“No,” Byleth denied, even though her limbs felt like jelly. With one final inhale, she straightened her posture and pointed her training sword at him. “Come get the fight you so seek.”
“Gladly.” The word had barely left his lips before she was in front of her, his own training sword baring down towards her side. She easily parried the strike and moved to deliver a blow to his open left side, but he jumped out of the way before he came after her again.
On and on they went, their training swords clashing, their bodies dodging and twisting out the way of strikes, some hits managing to land.
It wasn’t until a few more minutes into their spar that something changed. As Byleth tried to take advantage of an opportunity Felix had left open, her exhaustion caught up to her and caused her to stumble. It was only slight and maybe for half a second, but it was all Felix needed. He hooked his ankle behind her own and pulled, disrupting her balance and causing her to fall.
The next she knew, he was pinning her to the ground with his training sword pressed lightly against her throat. Byleth stared up at him, his face just a scant few inches from hers, both of them breathing heavily. Her eyes were locked onto Felix’s amber ones, unidentified emotions swirling within. He simply stared back, his own eyes wide.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then the barest hint of pink graced Felix’s cheeks, and he abruptly leaned away and got off her.
The spell was broken.
Byleth slowly sat up, her eyes on Felix, who had his back to her. “Well done,” she proclaimed, even as she shoved her thoughts of . . . whatever just happened to the back of her mind. She ignored the slight heat in her cheeks. “You beat me.”
Felix let out a scoff. “I wouldn’t call that a win,” he declared before finally turning around. He eyed her form in the ground with a scowl. “You were tired. I will accept my victory when I beat you at full strength, nothing less.”
Byleth knew that he was 100% serious. “Of course.”
He eyed her place still on the ground before he rolled his eyes and stalked back towards her. “Get off the ground; you look pathetic,” he muttered as he held out a hand. Byleth took his hand and allowed him to pull her up, ignoring his comment. It barely had any vitriol.
“Well, as much as you wanted to spar with me, I must thank you as well,” she said to him. “It was invigorating. It’s been a while since I’ve fought that hard without it being a life or death situation.”
Felix stared at her for a bit before he gave a firm nod and went to put the sword away, and Byleth did the same. It wasn’t until they both began to leave the Training Grounds that he finally spoke. “Whenever I was stressed out about something, my brother would drag me to our family’s training grounds to spar with him,” he said. Byleth looked over at him, but his gaze remained stubbornly ahead of him. “I . . . I thought that it might . . . help you too. Because of . . . of what happened in Abyss.”
Byleth stopped walking. After hearing the sounds of her footsteps cease, Felix stopped and turned to her with a quizzical look on his (lightly pink) face, but Byleth barely noticed.
Byleth had spent that whole day in some kind of haze. Don’t get her wrong, she was glad to help out the Ashen Wolves the other day, and she was happy that Yuri and Hapi decided to stick around with her.
But she had also seen her mother’s dead body. Her perfectly preserved dead body. And then she saw it mangled and twisted after she and the others defeated the Umbra Beast it had turned into.
So, yes, the day after everything, she wasn’t really in tune with her surroundings, but she thought she had hidden it pretty well. And maybe she had. Her father wasn’t around to noticed because he was drowning his own grief in his office, and she couldn’t hide anything from Sothis, seeing as she lived inside Byleth’s head.
But Felix still noticed. More than that, he decided to do something about it.
That, more than anything, made something in her chest swell and burn, but not unpleasantly. Without thinking, she reached forward and gripped his hand.
Felix’s eyes widened in the most expressive manner she had seen from him. “Professor-“
”Felix.” Byleth didn’t let him finish. “Thank you.”
Byleth wasn’t good at expressing her emotions, but maybe this time, she did something right. Because Felix’s golden eyes softened ever so slightly, and he briefly squeezed her hand back. “Your welcome.”
Ever since that day, it was like something . . . shifted between them, at least on Byleth's end. She was hyperaware of every interaction she had with Felix and how much time they spent together.
How they fought side by side in the Battle of the Eagle and Lion.
How he never left her after Jeralt was killed (was actually the only one able to get close enough to pull her away from his body in the first place) and the way he was the one to inspire actual life back in her eyes.
How he was the only one who still treated her the same as he always had after she had merged with Sothis.
How being in his presence was enough to make her feel safe, similar in a way that she only felt with her father and Sothis, yet still different.
Even after her five-year slumber, none of those feelings went away. In fact, the reality of war seemed to amplify them.
Accidental brushes of their fingers, the bump of their shoulders when they walked too close together, their hands lingering on each other’s arms or shoulders.
Every single interaction with Felix made feelings swirl and rush through her, intense yet pleasant, scary yet exhilarating.
And what happened between them the night before the army’s siege on Enbarr . . .
Byleth shook her head and forcibly shoved those thoughts and memories to the back of her brain, and turned her mind to the present.
She tried to focus on the list of names again but decided to simply bring it back with her since her mind was too preoccupied to really focus at the moment.
After one last cursory glance about the place, Byleth made her exit and began heading back to camp. As she walked, she noticed how her footsteps echoed around her, further emphasizing how empty the place had become while she checked rooms and remained absorbed in the piece of paper currently in her pocket.
As she rounded a corner, something in the air wavered. Byleth didn’t know how she sensed it. Maybe her battle senses from constantly being involved in skirmishes since she was twelve with her father and honed during the war. Maybe it was because of some sixth sense that she gained when she fully merged with Sothis.
But whatever it was, as Byleth paused and glanced skeptically around with a hand gripping the Sword of the Creator, it allowed her to see something honing in on her from behind. She dodged what turned out to be a Miasma spell, albeit barely. As it hit the wall with a crash and a hiss as it melted the surface, she quickly turned to face the threat, her sword out and gripped with both hands.
The threat turned out to be a group of about six individuals, four men and two women, all dressed in black from head to toe and skin as pale as snow.
Byleth cursed vehemently within her mind, even as her expression remained blank in the face of sneers and scowls being sent her way. In a normal situation, she could take all of them with little to no problem. However, she spent the whole day fighting against the Imperial Army, and even she could tire, despite what many others believed. Alone with exhaustion shackled to her limbs like weights to fight off a sneak attack was not something she was prepared to deal with at that moment.
"This is where you die, blasted Fell Star," one of the men and apparent leader seethed as more magic gathered in his hands. "In the name of Thales, I shall make sure nothing but your filthy ashes will remain as punishment for what you and the other beasts did to us!"
Byleth used her sword for batting away the Death spell he sent at her, but right on its heels were the other combatants. An axe tried to split her head open, but she dodged to the right and slashed her sword across an incoming enemy's chest. Their armor turned out to be really good, though, and the strike barely did anything other than pissing the woman off. The leader shot another spell at her, this one Mire, and it clipped her in the shoulder, causing her to stumble backward in pain.
Her split-second distraction cost her, and one of the assailants managed to get close enough to slash her arm with his sword. Byleth hissed in pain, even as she kicked that person's knee hard enough to hear it crack and bashed their face in with the hilt of her sword.
That man crumpled, but his companions were barely fazed, if at all. One even stepped over him as she lunged with her lance. Byleth brought up her sword to block the blow before jumping back. She swung it in a wide arc using the sword's whip function, catching all of her attackers and throwing them back.
Byleth then turned and fled. She was not idiotic enough to stay in a situation that was not in her favor, and she knew that her last attack merely caught them off guard and hardly did any real damage. Her limbs were like lead from her fatigue, and she was beginning to feel a searing pain from the wound on her arm.
To feel burning from the Mire spell is not a surprise, Byleth thought as she ran. But why would a simple sword slash hurt this much? I've received wounds worse than this that didn't hurt this bad. Was it a Venin Blade?
A fireball flew over her head and slammed into the wall, showering her with bits of debris that cut and sliced at her face. She kept running, her legs trembling with her ever-mounting exhaustion as she heard their footsteps behind her, closing in.
Byleth was almost at her destination, maybe just a few hallways away, when the ground suddenly trembled and then jolted, throwing Byleth powerfully off her feet. She crashed headfirst against the wall before she fell to the floor in a daze.
That was Quake, Byleth thought through her muddled mind. A hand suddenly grabbed her injured shoulder and roughly turned her over. She couldn't help the cry of pain that escaped her when the hand harshly squeezed the wound left by the Mire spell, but it died a cold death when the man from before pinned her down and held a dagger in front of her face.
A dagger that appeared to be made of very familiar-looking metal . . .
"This is your fate, Fell Star," the man sneered, and before Byleth could do anything, shout for help, try to throw him off her, he brought the dagger down, and the blade sunk harshly into her chest.
Pain the likes Byleth had never felt before exploded inside her chest. It was like the fires and lava of Ailell had made their home inside her alongside hundreds of the smallest yet sharpest blades imaginable, hacking away at her insides bit by bit.
Her eyes fell shut against the onslaught of pain, and she felt blood pouring out of her mouth that was open in a silent scream.
The man still pinning her down spoke again. "Suffer as we have suffered, you damn beast!" And then another spike of pain erupted from her chest, this one just as agonizing as the last, and Byleth let out a choked-off scream. Despite her tightly closed eyes, she felt tears streaming down her face as the pain began to increase. She forced them back open, staring into the eyes of the man who was going to kill her through her agony.
His skin may have been pale to the point of looking sickly, but his eyes glowed with malevolent hate as he stared down at her prone form. He raised the blood-covered dagger - her blood that was coating the dagger - and snarled, "Burn in your Eternal Flames." And then he brought the dagger down again.
Byleth watched it as if in slow motion, as the blade came nearer and nearer, this time aimed for her heart. Right when it was about to strike the killing blow, a strong Thoron came out of nowhere and blasted the dagger out of the man's hand and he off of her.
"HOW DARE YOU!"
Byleth recognized that voice, even though she had never heard it with that much anger. A blue blur vaulted over her and charged in the direction where the enemies were, but at that point, Byleth stopped paying attention. The pain was excruciating, the burning agony worsening whenever she took a breath and rolling around inside her like the waves of a violent ocean she and her father once saw during one of their jobs.
Her father. Jeralt.
Was this what you felt, father? Byleth couldn't help but think through the raging inferno twisting inside her chest. Was this what you felt when Kronya stabbed you?
Except that her father had her in his final moments. Byleth was alone.
Well, maybe not, because as soon as the thought crossed her mind, the sound of someone shouting her name cut through the haze her mind descended into.
"Byleth!"
Something pressed against her chest, and a cry of pain was ripped from her mouth, along with a bit of blood.
"Byleth! Byleth, hang on, okay? Hang on! Caspar, go get help!"
Another voice piped up. "I'm on it!" Byleth felt footsteps thunder past her and fade away the farther their owner got away from her.
It was at that moment that Byleth tried opening her eyes. It took a few tries, but she managed to open them to half-mast and immediately met the person's eyes still with her.
"Byleth!" Felix exclaimed when her eyes met his. "Stay awake, do you hear me? Stay awake, or I swear to the Goddess above I will kill you myself!"
Byleth opened her mouth to say something - his name, a demand, a comment because Felix that didn't make any sense - but ended up coughing up blood instead, and the pain grew more intense.
"Shit!" Felix cursed, and his hand - it was his hand, that's what it was - pressed harder against her chest, probably to stem the flow of blood there. "You're not going anywhere. You're staying here, you're not leaving, you're staying right here!" His amber eyes were glassy and filled with pain similar to the ones wracking her body, and his face was contorted into despair.
He was rambling. Felix didn't ramble. He was the one who always kept his head, even when he was angry or upset. Byleth supposed that she must look terrible for him to lose his cool like this. But then she realized what was happening. She was dying. She had been injured too much, and this time, there wasn't anything to save her from it.
But if she was dying, that meant . . .
She blinked, and her eyes couldn't find the strength to open again.
"No. No, no. No, no, no! Byleth, open your eyes! Open your eyes, Byleth!" Felix's voice cried out, panicked.
She wanted to; she really did. But all her strength was leaving her.
"Stay with me!"
The pain was still there, but it was like she was experiencing it secondhand.
"Open your eyes! Byleth, please, open your eyes!"
She tried, but it was like she lost control of her body. Her eyes remained closed even though she tried to force them open. She needed to see him at least one last time. She had to look him in the eyes.
She had to look him in the eye and tell him . . .
"Don't leave me! Stay with me, Byleth. Please, just stay with me."
I’m trying, she wanted to say, but her lips refused to move. Her mind began to descend into darkness, wrapping around her like chains and dragging her further into the abyss.
"Don't go," his voice begged her. She felt something wet hit her face. "Don't leave me. Stay with me. Goddess above, please don't take her from me."
She didn't want to go.
She still had things to do.
She still had people to protect.
She had to tell Felix . . .
She heard shouting as if from a distance and running footsteps. That, and the sound of Felix’s voice, was all she heard as the darkness swallowed her, and she knew nothing.
Mercedes sighed and looked at her trembling red-stained hands. Beside her, Marianne collapsed to her knees, her breathing labored as she, too, stared at the red painting her hands.
Linhardt had already stumbled from the tent, and the sound of him retching reached her ears. In front of her, Manuela was bent over Byleth’s still form as she wrapped bandages around her chest.
Five hours.
It took five hours to repair most of the damage Byleth sustained, and despite all of their work, she wasn’t out of the woods yet.
She had been stabbed twice in the chest with a dagger made of the same foreign blade material that killed Jeralt all those years ago. The strange blade was imbued with a type of dark magic that destroyed Faith magic, which made it really hard to heal her.
It took all of their combined efforts, with Lysithea and Yuri subbing for them a few times when one of them grew too exhausted to even stand.
Frankly, it was a miracle that Byleth was still alive, even if she wasn’t quite stable yet.
”What do we do now?” Marianne’s voice, quiet though it was, broke Mercedes out of her thoughts.
”We wait,” she replied, looking back towards Manuela. “Right?”
”Right,” the retired songstress replied, her tone heavy. “The rest is up to Byleth. Sometimes survival is more than just medicine. The person has to want to live and fight for it.”
”Then she’ll definitely make a full recovery,” Mercedes decided. “The professor has all of us waiting for her. She’ll fight to come back.”
Marianne nodded. “ She will.” Her voice was quiet but had a hint of steel the blue-haired girl rarely showed.
”Well, I hope that you both are right,” Manuel replied as she finished tying off the bandage. She looked at them. “I’m going to go check on Linhardt, but I'll keep an eye on Byleth. The two of you should go inform everyone of the professor’s condition.”
”Can you do that, Marianne?” Mercedes asked as the elder healer left. “I . . . I need to go find Felix.”
Marianne’s eyes softened in understanding. “Sure.”
They both left the medical tent that was set up near the Imperial Palace. They passed by a pale and shaking Linhardt on the ground, being comforted by Manuela as they did so, and Mercedes couldn't help her wince as she recalled Linhardt's fear of blood. He still stayed and helped to heal Byleth, regardless of his aversion to blood, so her respect for him grew at that fact.
When Marianne turned and headed towards where their friends and some of their allies had congregated, Mercedes headed down a less occupied area of the encampment. It was only a few moments later that she came across Felix.
It was probably a good thing Felix chose to wait away from everyone else. At least, that was what Mercedes thought as she took a moment to observe him. His hands were coated in Byleth's blood, as were some of his hair; he must have run his hands through it when the blood was still fresh. He was pacing anxiously - and wasn't that something to see, Felix emoting something other than annoyance so obviously - and his eyes were wide and haunted-looking as he paced.
Honestly, it was unsettling for Mercedes to see Felix be something other than the 'level-headed broody swordsman' they had all come to love.
Then again, he had watched Byleth seemingly bleed out in front of him, powerless to do anything to help other than stem her blood flow. Whenever it came to Byleth, Felix was more emotive than usual; everyone knew that.
Mercedes began walking towards him again, and he must have heard her footsteps because he stopped pacing and all his attention snapped onto her. For a moment, Mercedes felt very small under his intense gaze, like how a rabbit would feel before a wolf. He eyed her with distraught eyes, and Mercedes remembered, somewhat belatedly, that she was still covered in Byleth's blood. Inwardly kicking herself for forgetting, she mustered a smile for him. "She's alive, Felix."
Felix let out a sharp exhale and turned away slightly, a hand coming up to cover his eyes. Mercedes had enough tact to pretend that she didn't know he was shedding a few tears and simply let him gather his composure. She only spoke up when Felix made to walk past her. "Felix, wait."
"What?" he snarled at her, his worry and concern making him lash out. However, after being friends with him for years, Mercedes was barely phased.
"You need to know that she's not completely out of the woods yet," she explained to him softly. "There is still a chance that . . . that she could die."
Felix's face spasmed in pain again. He gave a terse nod and tried to move around her again, but Mercedes stepped in front of him.
"What now, Mercedes," Felix said through gritted teeth, his fists clenched tightly.
Mercedes reached for one of his hands and gently eased it out of a fist. "You need to get yourself cleaned up," she said, her voice gentle. "You still have her blood on your hands and a bit in your hair."
Felix looked down at his hand in hers, like he was just now realizing it. And maybe he did. "I know you've been awake the entire time we were working to save her," Mercedes continued. "At least wash her blood off. You don't need the evidence of what happened all over you."
Felix was torn, she could see it. He desperately wanted to go see Byleth, but he also wanted to wash all the blood off. Finally, he let out a whisper. "I just need to see her."
Mercedes understood completely. She pulled him into a hug and ignored how he stiffened up. "I understand," she said. "Just, please, remember to take care of yourself. You know how the professor gets when some of us overdo it."
Felix's laugh was faint and a little watery, but Mercedes counted it as a win. With a final squeeze, she let him go and stepped back. He gave her an intense look before saying a very quiet, "Thank you," and quickly made his way towards the Medical Tent.
Mercedes watched him go, her gaze somber.
Wake up as soon as you can, Byleth. We all want you back, but Felix really needs you to wake, Mercedes thought to herself as she made her own way back towards the Medical Tent. I wonder if he's realized yet . . .
Lysithea stood outside the Medical Tent, a plate of food in her hands.
It has been a couple of hours since Marianne told them about Byleth's condition, and everyone has been restless ever since. Dimitri needed to go back to Fhirdiad since he was the King and had to take care of his Kingdom now that the war was officially over. At first, he resisted, wanting to remain in Enbarr with Byleth since she wasn't stable enough to move yet. But after some encouragement from Gilbert and support from Marianne, he heeded their words and left for Faerghus a little while ago. Marianne had chosen not to go with her fiance, citing that she wanted to be around if Byleth needed her.
Lysithea didn't blame her. The few times she subbed in for one of the healers to rest and recover their magic for a bit allowed her to see Byleth. She'll never get the image of her covered in all that blood out of her head. She knew it would stay with her for the rest of her life.
Which brought Lysithea to her current situation. Felix had only left the Medical Tent once, and he was back not even an hour later. Lysithea decided to bring him some food while she visited Byleth.
She was doing it for him as much as herself. Even if Byleth wasn’t quite stable yet, it was better to see her unconscious and breathing than the bloodstained horror Lysithea witnessed earlier.
So after taking a deep breath, Lysithea stepped inside.
There are not many people inside the Medical Tent, just a few who had injuries that couldn't be healed because of the healer's exhaustion. Flayn had passed out a little before Byleth was attacked and was still sleeping, and Rhea was really weak from her imprisonment. Seteth, being the overprotective brother and dedicated advisor that he was, hadn't left their sides.
However, Lysithea's concern was directed at the two people at the back, away from prying eyes and ears. As she approached, she got a better look at Byleth. Her skin was pale and clammy, with beads of sweat gathered on her forehead. Her chest moved ever so slightly as she breathed, but her breaths were short and rattling.
Felix sat in a chair beside her, his own skin pale and the beginning of slight dark circles under his eyes. Both of his hands clutched one of Byleth’s own, and his eyes - usual shining with emotion, positive or negative - were dull as he stared at her.
So, in short, they both looked terrible.
Lysithea cleared her throat. “Hello, Felix.”
He gave her a quick glance. “Lysithea.”
She held out the plate. “Here, I thought you could share this with me.”
”I’m not hungry.”
Lysithea ignored the comment, predictable as it was. “It’s Spicy Fish, which should say something because you and I both know I can’t stand spicy food.”
”I said I’m not hungry.”
Lysithea took the other seat at Byleth’s side. “Then I guess I’ll have to force-feed you.”
Felix finally took his gaze off of Byleth’s face to glare at her. Lysithea didn’t blink. “I’ll do it, don’t think I won’t,” she said. Then she softened her tone. “Starving yourself won’t help her.”
Pain flashed in Felix’s eyes, and he turned away. Lysithea didn’t let up, but she kept her tone soft. “The Professor wouldn’t want you like this.”
Felix scoffed. “I wouldn’t know,” he declared. “It’s not like she’s awake to tell me.”
“Don’t do that,” Lysithea interjected sharply. “She will wake up.”
”And how do you know that?”
“You are closer to her than any of us, Felix. You should know that if there’s a chance to be with us, she will take it.”
Felix fell silent at that. Lysithea watched many emotions battle it out within Felix’s eyes. After a moment, he sighed as his head fell forwards a bit. “I just want her to wake up,” he confessed, his voice quiet and subdued.
Lysithea leaned against his shoulder. “We all do,” she said. Tears started to prickle in her eyes, but she forced them back. “But we should still take care of ourselves too. She was able to pound that into my head at least.”
The blue-haired swordsman let out a weak snort at that. He knew about the many times Byleth had scolded her for overdoing it.
The Ordelia Heiress held out the plate of food to him again. “Here. Share this with me. I’m hungry, and I know you are too, so don’t try and deny it.”
Felix gave a halfhearted grumble but finally let go of Byleth’s hand and grabbed the plate. “So say the Gremory.”
”Damn right,” Lysithea sniffed haughtily. She squeezed his arm as she did, though.
”Lysithea.” Felix murmured after a while.
”Hm?” the aforementioned girl lifted her head from his shoulder to stare at him.
Felix kept his eyes on the green-haired woman in front of him. “Thank you.”
Lysithea gave a small smile and rested her head back on his shoulder. “Don’t mention it.”
Please wake up soon, Professor. We all miss you.
Even though riding atop her horse wasn’t a steady ride, Bernadetta was hardly fazed.
In fact, most of her attention was on the medical cart a few feet in front of her. Two days ago, Manuela and Mercedes had decreed Byleth stable enough to move, so everyone packed up camp and began their journey back to Garreg Mach. Some members of the convoy would only stop there for supplies before continuing on to Fhirdiad.
Byleth and Lady Rhea were the only patients inside the medical cart, with Flayn, Manuela, and Mercedes in there as well, in case of trouble. Bernadetta had wanted to ride with them to be there for Byleth, but Mercedes said it was better to not crowd her and allow as few people as possible.
She knew all of that but had to ask anyway. Byleth had always been like an older sister for her. Strong, protective, fierce. Bernadetta had observed those qualities in Byleth way before she joined the Blue Lions. In actuality, those characteristics had drawn her to the other woman, the one person besides Yuri who made her feel completely safe.
A hand squeezed her wrist, and Bernadetta looked down to see the man she was just thinking about. "Hey, Yuri."
The purple-haired man grinned up at her from his place alongside her horse. "Bernie," he said. "You looked to be disappearing inside of yourself again. Everything okay?"
Bernadetta smiled despite herself. Yuri was always good at sensing whenever she was feeling down. "I'm just worried about Byleth," she admitted. "She's well enough to be moved back to Garreg Mach, but she's still . . ."
"Not out of the woods yet," Yuri finished gently for her. Bernadetta nodded. "Yeah, we're all worried about her," he continued. "She's pretty . . . unique."
Bernadetta giggled. Unique. Yes, that was one way of putting it.
Byleth was the first person Bernadetta opened up to. Something about her just projected safety and protection and trust, and she knew she was not the only one who thought so. When Edelgard had stormed into their classroom all those years ago while the Blue Lions were still down in the Holy Tomb and demanded them to pick a side, Bernadetta had chosen to stay behind. To stay with Byleth. Caspar, Linhardt, and Dorothea chose to stay too, and Bernadetta was absolutely sure that Petra would've stayed behind if not for the threat against her people.
Byleth inspired loyalty. She could make even the surliest person want to fight for her.
Speaking of the surliest person . . .
Bernadetta bit her lip, a nervous tic she hadn't been able to get rid of, and glanced ahead, this time to the figures next to the medical cart. Lysithea was astride her horse, named Nyx for her dark coat, with Felix sitting behind her.
Bernadetta had glimpsed the swordsman as they all packed up camp. She noticed that he looked unwell, with pale skin and dark circles under his eyes.
He, too, wanted to ride in the medical cart with Byleth but was firmly, yet gently, rebuffed by Mercedes’ logical reasoning like she had.
Even as he rode along with Lysithea, who could arguably be called Felix’s honorary little sister, the tension in his shoulders could be seen, and he frequently glanced at the medical cart alongside them.
”You’re worried about him.”
Yuri’s voice snapped Bernie from her thoughts. She looked over at him. “Yes,” she admitted. “Felix is . . . not taking her circumstance well.”
“None of us is taking her situation well,” Yuri stated. “But yes, he seems to be taking it the worst.” He glanced ahead at the Fraldarius Heir. “Do you think he’s realized yet?”
Bernadetta knew what he was referring to. “Maybe on an unconscious level,” she answered slowly. “But I don’t think he’s admitted to himself. It’s - it’s hard to let someone in when you’ve spent a while pushing others away.”
That was something she and Felix had in common. A combination of her oppressive upbringing by her father and the belief that she got Yuri killed scared Bernadetta enough to keep shutting people out. She had recognized herself in Felix’s behavior and could sympathize.
Yuri made a contemplative noise. “Well, this should be enough of a wake-up call then.”
Bernie said nothing. Please pull through Byleth. Felix may be super worried, but he’s not the only one. We miss you.
Sylvain looked around the dining hall, but when he couldn’t spot his best friend, he couldn’t help the small bit of sadness that welled inside him.
It’s been three days since they’ve returned to Garreg Mach, and Felix had spent those days holed up in the infirmary at Byleth’s side. Sylvain couldn’t really blame his friend for being worried, but he was worrying them each time he failed to show at mealtimes.
A hand on his shoulder snapped him from his thoughts. He turned and saw Dorothea’s smiling face and a plate of food in her hand. “Here, go bring this to him. He still needs to eat.”
Sylvain smiled at her in thanks, leaned in to give her a quick kiss, and then left for the infirmary with the plate of food in his hands.
In no time at all, Sylvain reached the infirmary. The scene inside was a familiar one, and yet Sylvain’s heart still lurched at the sight. Byleth lay in one of the cots pale and unmoving. Next to her, Felix held her hand in both of his own, his eyes bloodshot.
Sylvain plastered a smile on his face and entered the room. “Hey, buddy! Here, Dorothea got you something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
The redhead sighed at the expected response. “Yeah, you are, Fe. You’ve hardly left this room except to use the bathroom. You got to eat something, man.”
“I’m. Not. Hungry.”
Sylvain sat down beside him and gave him a glare. “Do I need to go and get Lysithea? Because I know she would actually force-feed you if she knew you weren’t eating. I mean, I would do it too, but I know you would try to bite my hand off. At the worst, Lysithea will get a glare.”
Felix turned a glower on him. Sylvain merely smiled and held out the plate of food. Felix‘s glare didn’t diminish, but he did take the plate and started to eat.
Sylvain observed him. Even as he ate, Felix’s eyes would track back to Byleth’s face, his gaze worried and even a little scared.
Sylvain turned to look at Byleth as well. “Did I ever tell you,” he said faux casually, “that I was in love with Ingrid?”
Sylvain felt his friend’s eyes glance at his face, but he didn’t turn to look. “Yeah, I used to be in love with her. I thought she felt the same, but . . .” his voice trailed off, and he shrugged. He wasn’t going to go in-depth as to why it had hurt so much. “Then the war happened, and there was nothing to look forward to but fighting and just trying to stay alive. And then, Dorothea and I got assigned to the same squadron, and I started developing feelings for her over the years. One day, about a week or two after Byleth came back, someone came up to me and said they overheard Dorothea telling Mercedes that she had feelings for me. And I got scared.”
By this point, Felix’s eyes were bearing a hole in the side of Sylvain’s head. But he still didn’t look over. “I’ve gotten feelings for people who turned out to only like me from my crest. And then the whole thing with Ingrid happened. I didn’t know if Dorothea was genuine or not, and I was scared to go down that road again. So, I avoided her as best I could. I resigned myself to the fact that I was just going to be alone or have a loveless marriage like my parents did. But then we tried to rendezvous with Lord Rodrigue and got ambushed in Aillel. Dorothea pushed me out of the way of a javelin that would’ve taken my head off. She got it in her stomach.”
Sylvain finally looked away from Byleth’s face and instead turned his gaze to his clasped hands. “Seeing her like that, in pain, on the ground with the javelin to the stomach that was meant for me. Thinking she was going to die was the scariest moment of my life. After she got better, I just stopped fighting it. I started hanging out with her again, and I didn’t find ways to avoid her anymore. Because if something happened to her while I was keeping my distance, I would never be able to forgive myself. And I found out that her feelings for me were genuine.”
Sylvain didn’t meet Felix‘s eyes as he finished his story. He kept his gaze on his hands as his mind flashed through the events he spoke about.
Finally, after a moment of quiet, Felix spoke up. “Why did you tell me this?”
Sylvain looked over at him. “To help you realize,” he said simply. He got up and clasped a hand to his shoulder. “Make sure to eat that, okay?”
He turned and left the infirmary. I can’t give you all the answers. You need to realize for yourself, Fe. And I hope that when you do realize, she’ll still be here.
Felix watched Sylvain leave the room. He turned back towards Byleth, his mind going over the words his friend had spoken.
He had no idea Sylvain was ever in love with Ingrid, despite being close friends with both of them. But now that he thinks about it, there were a few weeks back before Edelgard had been revealed as the Flame Emperor where Ingrid and Sylvain avoided each other like the plague. At the time, Felix thought that Ingrid had gotten upset with Sylvain again over his conduct with a girl, and Sylvain was just wary of receiving a lecture from her. But now he knows better. As he ate the plate of food brought to him, Felix couldn't stop the words Sylvain said from repeating inside his head.
Seeing her like that, in pain, on the ground with the javelin to the stomach that was meant for me. Thinking she was going to die was the scariest moment of my life. After she got better, I just stopped fighting it. I started hanging out with her again, and I didn’t find ways to avoid her anymore. Because if something happened to her while I was keeping my distance, I would never be able to forgive myself.
Those words reminded him of the night before he and the others fought in Enbarr.
The night before everything tried to burn in the Eternal Flames.
Felix ducked under the flap and into the command tent. Unsurprisingly, Byleth was still inside even though everyone was mostly asleep by then. It looked like she was pouring over a map of Enbarr and was muttering as she looked it over.
Felix stepped towards her. "Byleth."
She looked up at him, and a small smile appeared on her lips. "Felix."
"You should be sleeping," Felix said as he walked to her side.
She raised a brow. "So should you," she countered as she gazed back down at the map. "Tomorrow is important. If everything goes right, the war shall end tomorrow, and we all can start correcting the Emperor's mistakes."
Felix watched as she studied the map. An unease began unfurling in his chest, and the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "You can't die tomorrow."
Byleth looked back at him with something unreadable in her eyes. "Neither can you."
"I'm serious, Byleth," Felix declared. His hands reached out and cupped her face, making sure she was looking directly into his eyes. Some part of his mind protested his actions, but he discarded the thought. He needed her to understand. "You cannot die tomorrow."
Too many people have left him. His brother, his mother, his father, various friends he had among the soldiers that fought with them. Felix had even lost Dimitri for a while. He lost Byleth once, and those five years without her was like a knife being plunged into his chest over and over and over every day. He doesn't know what he would do if she were to be lost to him again.
Amber eyes gazed into light green ones.
Felix repeated himself. "You cannot die tomorrow," he said, his voice firm.
At first, Byleth didn't move. Then she reached up to cup the back of his neck with her hands and pulled him to her until their foreheads touched. "Neither can you," she repeated herself. "When the fighting is over with, I had better see you standing amongst the survivors."
Felix smiled a little. "Is that an order?"
"Yes." Byleth closed her eyes and, impossibly, brought him closer. "If I am to live, so are you, Felix."
He closed his eyes and savored the moment, no matter how brief it was. She was the one person he trusted more than anything, the one person who always had his back, on and off the battlefield, the one person with who he could be himself and not be judged.
The one person he . . .
"See you tomorrow," Felix said lowly. He let her go before he turned and walked out.
They both survived the battle like they said they would, but Byleth was ambushed afterward, probably only minutes after he had left her.
While Mercedes, Marianne, Linhardt, and Manuela worked to save Byleth's life, guilt had nearly eaten him alive as he waited to see if she would live. At the time, he had thought that if he was with her he could've prevented it. He thought he could have saved her, could've helped her drive off the cowards that injured her so severely.
But now, days after the fact and safely inside Garreg Mach, Felix just wanted her to wake up.
Seeing her like that, in pain, on the ground with the javelin to the stomach that was meant for me. Thinking she was going to die was the scariest moment of my life. After she got better, I just stopped fighting it. I started hanging out with her again, and I didn’t find ways to avoid her anymore. Because if something happened to her while I was keeping my distance, I would never be able to forgive myself.
Sylvain's words echoed inside his head again. Felix placed the plate of half-eaten food to the side and grabbed Byleth's hand with a sigh.
Felix let out a deep breath. "Byleth," he began.
In the darkness, there is nothing but void. Byleth couldn't focus on anything. There was no concept of up or down, nothing that could be positively identified, nothing familiar at all.
At least, that's how it started.
She couldn't see anything, but she was able to hear voices. Byleth couldn't make out what they were saying, but the voices were familiar to her. They inspired feelings of safety, trust, of love.
After a while, she became more aware of her own body. Her arms, her legs, her fingers, and her toes. With that came the feeling of something warm gripping her hand. It was big and warm and enveloped her whole hand. Sometimes the warmth would leave, but it was never gone long.
She was able to recognize the voices too. Not enough to know what they were saying, but enough to know who they belonged to. The names would come to her whenever they spoke.
And then a voice spoke to her, not one of the people on the outside waiting for her to escape the void, but from within the void itself.
You cannot die.
. . . what?
You must fight.
I am fighting.
Not hard enough. You must keep pushing.
. . . It hurts.
The pain is trapping you. Fight to break free. The world needs you. Your friends need you. And you need them.
. . . Sothis?
Fight to live, Byleth. Everyone is waiting. Especially him.
The voice vanished and left Byleth once more alone in the void.
Him? Who did she mean?
Byleth.
She knew that voice. It didn't speak that much, but she would know that voice anywhere. A name popped into her mind . . .
I don't know if you can hear me, Felix's voice continued speaking. But in the chance that you can, I need you to know something. I can't . . . I can't do this without you. I don't want to do this without you. You . . . you mean the world to me. And I don't know how I can keep living in this world if you were to leave me too.
There's something else I need to tell you. But I don't want to say it until you wake up. I want to be looking you in the eye when I say it so you can know that what I say is the surest thing I have ever said to anyone. So wake up, Byleth. Wake up so I can tell you. Please, come back to me.
Please, wake up.
Felix's voice tapered off, but the warmth that was surrounding her hand remained.
Something to tell me . . .
I wonder . . . is it the same thing I wanted to tell him before the void dragged me down?
Maybe it was the sound of her friends' voices, Sothis' speech, or maybe it was Felix's words. Whatever it was revived something in her chest, and the void began to retreat.
Byleth opened her eyes.
Her vision was blurry, and it took a couple of hard blinks to clear it. After a few moments, she realized that she was in the infirmary of Garreg Mach. She felt something warm gripping her hand and looked over to see Felix sitting beside her, both his hands holding her own with his head bowed.
She tried to speak. "Fe-lix." Her voice was raspy.
His head shot up, and he gazed at her with shocked eyes. "Byleth," he whispered, his tone raw with emotion. "You're awake."
He grabbed something outside her field of vision and held it to her mouth. "Here, drink this."
Byleth sipped at the water he gave her and sighed gratefully as it soothed her dry throat. Felix took it away and grabbed her hand again. "How are you feeling?"
"My . . . chest . . . hurts," Byleth admitted after a moment of contemplation. "And my . . . head aches."
Felix nodded, though he still looked incredibly relieved. "At least you're awake," he said as his eyes traced every inch of her face. "I'll go get Mercedes."
"Wait," Byleth protested as he made to get up. She tightened her grip on his hand to stop him from leaving.
Felix sat back down immediately. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"What . . . did you . . . want . . . to tell me?" she gasped out.
His amber eyes widened in surprise. "You heard me?" his voice was filled with surprise.
"Yes." Byleth tried nodding her head but could barely move. "What do . . . you need . . . to say?"
At first, Felix did nothing, and hesitation was present in his posture. But then something changed, and his eyes both hardened with determination and softened with emotion. He leaned forward and cradled her face with the hand not holding hers. "I love you, Byleth."
Byleth gasped, and happy tears sprang into her eyes. Her lips formed a smile that stopped the worries falling from Felix's mouth.
Say the words.
She took a deep breath. "I love you too, Felix."
Felix's eyes widened at her admission. But then he smiled. A small one but still genuine nonetheless. He leaned forward and kissed her, and Byleth closed her eyes as a wave of emotion so intense yet, so grounding swept through her.
I love you.