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Attachment is forbidden for a Jedi master. They can love, but the love is universal. They can have, but they cannot possess. They can want but they can never desire.
Felix knows this. His master Byleth warns him again and again about attachments and impulsiveness despite Felix’s talents. He may not be as much of a prodigy as Glenn but Felix senses things that others completely miss. There are some things Felix just knows.
It’s the only reason why he’s arguing with Master Seteth in the temple at Garreg Mach, far away from where he should be, is because something is wrong.
“Reports confirm the young prince arrived safely back in Fhirdiad. Have you felt something to the contrary?” Seteth asks, his brows knitted together in concentration. Felix doesn’t hate him; hate is perhaps the most dangerous emotion of all, but he finds the older Nabatean as helpful as a Rancor in a cockpit. He’s a member of the Council and spends most of his time monitoring galactic politics. It’s a thankless job, Felix knows, but no one ever said the life of a Jedi was easy. Especially not when it comes to Faerghus and its royal family.
“Something’s wrong.” Felix answers and tries to glance past Seteth to the large galaxy-wide map on the wall-sized screen. “So I’m going to find him, whether you let me or not.”
“That is unwise.” Seteth frowns and the tips of his ears twitch. “Have you spoken to Master Byleth?”
There’s no time for that. Felix knows better than to speak though because there are enough Jedi around that he could be undercut before he can even step off the planet. It would probably end badly with how important his family is but…
“You should meditate at least.” Seteth continues. His voice drops to a soothing tone that does nothing whatsoever. “Whatever you choose should be done with a calm, open mind.”
“Fine.” Felix mutters. He turns on his heel to exit, making a point to turn left towards their bedroom quarters.
He waits three hallways and then doubles back to the hangar bay.
He’s in space before anyone notices his absence. Or, at least, Felix hopes so because otherwise it means the Council’s fine with him leaving. He’s not sure what that would mean but he has more important things on his mind. Faerghus is at least 48 hours away from Garreg Mach and that’s more than enough time for things to go all wrong.
Perhaps Seteth is right. He’s too close to the situation. But it’s Dimitri. He grew up with Dimitri; half his purpose for becoming a Jedi is to protect and guide the royal family and, by extension, help and guide their home planet. Felix’s father protected Dimitri’s father; Felix’s great-grandmother protected Dimitri’s great-grandmother. It’s one of the rare cases where a Jedi is allowed to marry, even if the Council occasionally bemoans the arrangement.
His father failed and, infuriatingly, accepted the failure. Felix won’t be like that. He won’t.
There’s not much to do in his small shuttle, especially by himself. He wonders, briefly, if he should have asked Byleth to come along but they’re busy assisting Rhea with some Imperial mess and that would have taken too long. Everything takes too long.
He goes through various stances with his lightsaber. He checks navigation and listens to the chatter of the universe on the public communications channel.
He sits.
He meditates.
Felix struggles to give in to the Force. He’s always too aware of everything. He’s a damn good fighter, his brother said, but a poor mediator. When he closes his eyes and sinks into silence, his mind goes to Dimitri and his childhood friends. They’re always there, like little fluttering wisps of light. Ingrid’s training to lead her own squadron and Felix can almost envision her, dressed in her pilot suit and pulling her helmet over her head. Sylvain’s on constant trips to the distant planet Sreng… at least until he stops by at some bar to find some unique partner for the night.
Dimitri’s in the royal castle, as ancient as the planet itself, Sooner or later he’ll be sent to present himself to the Galactic Senate, all three of them in tow, after he takes kingship. Felix has seen it ever since he’s been a child, that moment when they stand staring out at the leagues and leagues of planetary representatives and announce I am here. Our home exists and matters.
And yet…
And yet there are other visions that Felix can’t quite understand. Visions that leave him cold.
Dimitri stands before him and yet behind them both, a shadow looms larger and larger until it swallows Dimitri entirely.
And Felix only sees darkness.
“...nnounce yourself.”
Felix opens his eyes. Faerghus is in front of him, white and blue and dull green and familiar. But something’s wrong; several unfamiliar ships hovering close.
“This is Arundel of the Galactic Senate. State your name and purpose.” A fuzzy, commanding voice crackles over his radio. “On behalf of the Senate, you may be held for judgment.”
Felix narrows his eyes. Arundel? Who the hell is Arundel to try and assert dominance? He flicks a switch and adjusts his ship’s speed. “This is Felix Fraldarius, House of Duke Fraldarius of Faerghus. What business do you have with my planet?”
There’s a long silence. Felix reminds himself to breathe and focus. A Jedi fights to protect, never to attack for the sake of attacking. Especially not when he’s alone in a ship designed for speed, not battle.
“Apologies, Lord Fraldarius.” Arundel’s voice is clipped. “We mean no offense. There were rumors of a rebellious force hiding within your planet and we offered our assistance. Please land and we will consult further.”
Something’s wrong.
Something’s very wrong.
“Very well.” Felix closes his eyes and takes a deep, long breath. He thinks of space, of emptiness, of the quiet breath of the galaxy.
He yanks his ship to the right two seconds before a small vessel opens fire. Felix curses, diving downwards in a mad rush to make it planetside.
Two more switches light up, Felix reaching through the Force to manage the complicated machinery of his ship. He jerks upwards and two of his attackers hit each other.
And then he dives downwards, almost in a tailspin, and breaks into the atmosphere.
The Force warns him with enough time to strengthen his shields. He twists and something unseen grazes his wing and Felix feels fire and heat.
He crashes into the edge of Fhirdiad, sending snow everywhere.
His ship is ruined but it’s a small price to pay to be so close to the castle fortress. Felix grimaces and drags himself out of his ship, taking only his warmest coat with him. Normally, there would be guards and sentry units to investigate and it’s worrisome that nothing at all tracks after him.
There are tunnels hidden around in the mountains. Tunnels that only the royal family knows about. He grips his lightsaber and aims for the nearest entrance.
Dimitri’s close. Felix feels him like a heartbeat. And Felix has to reach him.
It’s too quiet. It’s too subdued. As old and ancient as the castle is, it’s always bustling with people and the rumble of governance. Felix slips in silently and drifts down a shadowed hallway, unnerved by the lack of movement. He only sees a few cleaning droids that avoid him entirely. The Force wills him along, or maybe Felix wills himself, as drawn to Dimitri’s presence as a Hutt to money.
He stops short at the entrance to the private quarters. In the corner of his eye, he catches sight of movement.
“I fear he’s died, Highness.” A voice coos. A voice that is vaguely familiar; one that Felix heard long, long ago. “A terrible accident and I’m sure it will break his father’s heart.”
“You lie.” Dimitri growls, his voice a balm to Felix’s aching body, no matter how strange and worn it sounds. “You may speak ill of me, Cornelia, but you will not poison them with your tongue.”
Cornelia. Felix remembers the name. He had an ill feeling about the court advisor, but the ill feeling turns into something even more sour.
But he can’t attack. It’s not time yet.
“Oh come now, Highness. You only have a few more days before your abdication. You’ll be joining your little guard dog soon enough.”
Felix reaches for his lightsaber. The sickly feeling grows; like he’s being swallowed up in something slimy and cold.
“You’ve made your point. Leave.”
“If you so desire, Highness.” Felix disappears behind an old statue and watches Cornelia walk out, her steps echoing against the tile. He waits for her and then slips inside to see Dimitri sitting alone in a plain chair, still as a serpent.
Something’s wrong. Dimitri looks up, his blue eyes wide, and Felix feels far more emotion than a Jedi should.
“Felix… you’re here.” Dimitri does not move to stand up.
“What’s going on?” Felix demands and, without a moment’s hesitation, offers his hand. “Come on.”
Dimitri does not take it. “I don’t know the full details.” He bows his head. “Cornelia has bombs all around the city. If I don’t…”
Damn Dimitri's sense of obligation. “Then I’ll take care of her.” She’s just an advisor, after all.
The Force disagrees.
“I thought you’d be here.”
Felix nearly jumps, reaching for his lightsaber. It’s yanked from his side and flies into the corner of the room. A pressure grinds down on Felix and he pushes himself in front of Dimitri, every muscle heavy and every nerve alight.
He can’t breathe. He can’t move. He looks at Cornelia, startled to see her with her hand raised casually and her eyes nearly glowing yellow.
“I suppose I’ll need to make this look like an accident after all.” Cornelia smirks and Felix flails, unable to feel the Force beneath the crushing weight of the Dark Side. “Dimitri, do be a dear and sit still while I deal with our pest.”
Felix gurgles. Behind him, Dimitri’s trying to move to his feet, saying something Felix cannot hear through the whistling of his ears. The Force… the Force…
He closes his eyes and reaches, desperate...
Cornelia screams.
She doesn't scream for long.
Felix drops to the floor, shocked. Cornelia’s flailing, clutching at her throat and the cold only intensifies. Felix watches his lightsaber fly forward into Dimitri’s hand…
Dimitri lights it.
Dimitri shoves it directly through Cornelia’s throat.
The world goes utterly silent and still.
Feeling a death is never easy. Felix’s vision swims and he shakes, startled, until Dimitri drops down to steady him.
A Sith? Sith didn’t exist.
Did they?
Except…
Except Dimitri stands in front of him, unmoving, lightsaber still humming in his hand. The Dark Side still feels like it's pressing down on Felix with all its weight.
"Dimitri," Felix calls as he tries to find his center again. His center is right in front of him but it's off-kilter. "Look at me."
Dimitri twitches. He turns, his light blue orbs shadowed and nearly glowing from the lightsaber's light.
Felix winces and struggles to stand up. "Dimitri. The bombs."
"Oh... Felix." The lightsaber hum lessens and then goes away entirely. "Are you hurt?"
"Nothing I can't recover from." Felix settles his unsteady breathing. "We have more important things to do. We have to save everyone, remember?"
Dimitri offers his hand and Felix stumbles to his feet, leaning hard on Dimitri. His body is warm. His skin is warm. His hands are warm as Dimitri returns Felix’s lightsaber to its owner.
But there’s something cold underneath. Something that Felix can’t describe but he can manage.
“Stay close to me.” Dimitri says, squeezing Felix's hand “I need you to stay with me to know what to do.”
Felix does not miss the meaning.
Jedi don't have attachments.
Felix doesn't care.