#Sylvain's so well-suited to it to

[fiction-box]

Hello! I would like to request F!Reader x Felix

It is the Winter Ball. One of them is weary of the dancing, the crowds and the merriment and decides to take refuge in the Training Grounds - only to find that the other had the exact same idea. They decide to do something that's more fun than dancing - a sparring match. Bonus points if reader is wearing a fancy gown the whole time.

Whenever your time allows - thank you in advance!

You are very welcome, and I would like to thank you for being respectful of my time.

I seem to be on a roll with these longer stories. I don't know why - more ideas just keep pouring into my head, and of course I want to do every conflict justice.

Thank you for giving me freedom with perspective! I wanted to write something from the view of Felix since I had yet to truly write for him.

Requests are open. The story will continue under the cut.

You stood by yourself on the sidelines of the great hall, your purple dress sparkling against the downward lighting of the chandeliers. There was nothing particularly interesting about you right now; you simply surveyed the dancers on the checkered floor. Dimitri led Mercedes through an elegant twirl, Ingrid talked Ashe through the steps of the waltz, Annette and Sylvain engaged in a heated discussion over something that probably wouldn’t matter in about fifteen minutes…

…and Felix was staring at you.

The swordsman had refused to do any more than the bare minimum for the ball. That meant that despite his suit - one required by the Archbishop’s insipid dress code - his hair remained up off his neck, and his back pressed against the wall.

Dorothea had been making eyes at him from across the room for the past three minutes now. Felix told himself that was the reason he kept staring at you. If he and the songstress never made eye contact, she wouldn’t do anything stupid. Besides, she didn’t seem interested in asking anyone to dance; the brunette would only be accepting such invitations tonight.

Why the hell did he even care?

He didn’t, but he followed your line of sight to Dimitri. The boar switched partners to lead Hilda around the floor, an exchange initiated by the up-tempo of the cello and Mercedes’ apparent request for a break.

Why the hell did you even care?

…did you-?

“Jeez Felix, you’re so obvious.”

Sylvain.

“Trying to find the courage to ask her to dance?” the redhead teased. “I could help you out, you know. I’ve heard I’m an excellent wingman.”

“Do I look like I’m interested in moving right now? And since when have you ever helped anyone but yourself?”

“Ouch. I mean, you’re certainly not helping yourself- your suit coat will get wrinkled if you keep leaning against the wall like that.”

“As if I care!” Felix pushed off the wall to contest Sylvain at his full height. He did care. “There’s no point in this - we shouldn’t even be having a ball right now.”

“No- No- No- Hey look, no sweat, okay?” Sylvain verbally backpedaled, putting an arm around his friend’s shoulder to guide him toward the refreshments. Subtly, he ran his hand along the wrinkles of his coat to smooth them out as they walked, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but soirées like these don’t happen very often.”

“So?”

“So, you have just as good a reason to be here as everyone else in this room. You can wait however long you want before asking anyone you want to dance, but it’s pretty frowned upon to return to a party once you leave, you know?”

The heir of Gautier knew him too well. Nonetheless, he did make a good point. There was no need to rush to be flustered - he probably had an hour before the final dance of the night.

A drink found his hand, and the two nobles took up a space several paces away from the table. Felix couldn’t stop his eyes from searching for your shimmering gown.

You were still standing alone, still watching the dancers.

At least your eyes weren’t fixed on the boar this time. The son of Count Gloucester glided a blue-haired lady across the floor, her dress trumpeting as he gracefully led her back and forth. Your attention followed their sweeping motions.

Maybe you really did just want to dance.

His classmate’s hand came to rest on his shoulder again, “I’m just saying, you hate to see it, Felix. A beautiful girl like that, standing all by herself. You better make a move before someone else does - or before I take too much pity on her and ask her myself.”

He had called you a girl, “Stay away from her.”

“I’ll put in a good word for you, kay?”

But he headed the opposite direction. The bluenette watched him connect with a pouting Dorothea, immediately starting some banter he was sure he couldn’t care less about.

Felix found himself growing impatient, despite everything his friend said moments ago. If he was going to do this, he might as well get it over with now. That way the two of you would either get as much time as possible to spend together, or he could end his attendance at this event because the one reason for which he cared to stay wanted nothing to do with him.

Only, there was no place to put his drink.

Since you were standing by the southern entrance, and he loitered near the drinks at the western wall, you could see him out of your peripheral. That meant you could catch him too easily if he were to look at you again. Not that it wasn’t already considered rude to stare.

Taking a sip of the cool, vanilla drink, his mind began to think it through a bit. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to make eye contact. It would give him an excuse to approach you.

And another thing - although you hadn’t been alone the whole ball, you hadn’t been approached by any men, either. Even working to put his bias out of the way, you were objectively attractive. It didn’t-

Goddess, and you belonged to a house in the kingdom, too. A young, available, attractive noblewoman standing by herself at - judging the crowd - the largest social event of the season.

A mumbled ‘What the hell…?’ parted his lips as he surveyed the room again. He might actually understand Sylvain, for once. Logically, this whole scenario didn’t connect.

Finally finishing his drink and handing off the glass, he found it in himself to turn to face you.

You were not there.

His heart skipped a beat before his gaze scanned the dance floor for your dress, your hair, anything. Upon coming up empty, his mind shoved one thought to the front of his mind.

You left the ball.

Again, why? There were too many important people here for you to just up and leave. You hadn’t tried to mingle this whole time, content with simply watching everyone else twirl about the floor. Then, the moment he became too preoccupied with his drink and with Sylvain to pay attention, you vanished.

In light of recent events, it looked like Felix was about to copy you.

With no further reason to stay, he tried not to make a show of striding to the southern entrance. The last thing he wanted was for someone to chase him out or call him back in, especially if that person had red hair or…or connections to the Mittelfrank Opera Company.

His feet instinctively wound the path to the training grounds. He needed to blow off some steam and get out of his head so he could get some proper rest tonight. Even so, if his mind wouldn’t relent, he would work his body so hard that he’d sleep as soon as he finished bathing himself.

Music trailed him, but it couldn’t compete with the creak of the doors to the training grounds. Once the door shut behind him, Felix was well and truly alone. The notes of the orchestral violins couldn’t penetrate the thick wood and metal, and no one else had any reason to come here tonight.

Still, his actions quickly caught up with him. What was he doing here? Why did it feel like he was running away?

Get a grip.

He wasn’t running away, he just wasn’t wasting time, either. Heading to the rack, Felix grabbed a steel sword. It didn’t matter which one, so long as it was heavy.

The sand of the center pit caved beneath his feet. There was no need for a training dummy to warm up. Routinely, Felix swung the sword over his head. His arms needed to be steady even while his attacks retained momentum and strength.

…10…11…12…

Any time a thought of the ball wormed its way into his head, Felix would shove it out. No point in dwelling on his failure to act - the two of you were far too young for anything serious to happen. No need to worry about Sylvain finding you - after what he said earlier, there was no way he would leave all the other ladies in that room for the one he knew Felix was interested in. He knew Sylvain that well, at least.

…57…58…59…

Why the hell wasn’t this working? Usually he could focus on this. This one thing that belonged to him, that he had done endlessly before that insufferable ball, and that he would continue to endlessly pursue after it. His training should belong to him! This was supposed to be how he grounded himself.

Felix was having a very difficult nig-

The doors to the entrance groaned, a delicate piano solo floating in through the opening as the moonlight guided a figure into the facility.

Upon recognition of the shimmer of your gown, the swordsman lowered the weapon from above his head.

…82…?

Thoughtful of the ongoing formal, you pivoted around the door, slowly and mindfully closing it in an apparent attempt to make as little noise as possible. Finally, you exhaled and turned to the center of the grounds.

“Oh- I- Sorry! Sorry, I’ll go.”

But your eyes hadn’t adjusted to the light of the torches from the darkness outside, so your eyelashes fluttered as you reached past the door.

“No need,” Felix frowned. “You chose to come here, I don’t own the place.”

“Wait, Felix?” you marveled, turning back around only to blink against the light again. “I didn’t recognize you. I thought you were someone on maintenance.”

What. “What kind of maintenance staff wears a suit?”

“I didn’t get a good look, okay?” you defended, your eyes finally staying open and guiding you to where he currently stood.

Being this close to you now…it felt strange. Your makeup had been expertly applied, supposedly with help from Mercedes and Annette, the tailoring of your dress was much more obvious…

“But why are you here? You’re dressed for the ball, and I remember seeing you when I walked in.”

“You first,” he countered. “What did you think you were going to accomplish here in an evening gown?”

That caught you off guard. Your eyes found a spot on the ground beside you before trailing to the wall.

“I don’t know. I didn’t really have a plan. I’m not even sure why I’m here - I just feel like I’m supposed to be.”

His eyes narrowed, “What, are you trying to trick me into thinking this was fated or something?”

Your gaze drew back to him, confusion etched across your face.

“What?”

“Sylvain must have said something to you then, is that it?”

But you only looked more lost than you did before, “I’m sorry, I don’t follow. Sylvain and I haven’t spoken since…” your line of sight shifted above his head and slightly to the side, “…two days ago…? Professor Byleth puts us on stable duty every few days.”

The bluenette’s knuckles turned white as he clenched the hilt of his sword. Sylvain never said anything about this. Felix had no clue you were spending so much time together.

“Forget it,” he insisted, “you’re here, so we might as well do something productive. Spar with me.”

“In an evening gown? You practically said it yourself, I can’t do anything wearing this.”

Goddess save him, he did not know how to handle this situation. In terms of guiding the conversation, he did not think this through. There didn't seem to be a way for him to keep changing the subject or coming up with an idea for you to stay here, either.

All his defense mechanisms were failing, and he was becoming frustrated.

“Okay, your turn,” you crossed your arms, saving him for a moment. “Why did you leave the ball to come here?”

“There wasn’t a reason for me to stay, anymore.”

Some of the light in your eyes dimmed, just enough for him to catch it happening. Just enough to make him wonder why.

“Hang on,” he recovered, “you know I left to come here.”

“That’s not a question,” you affirmed.

“But you didn’t leave to come here. So why weren’t you at the ball?”

Your brows furrowed slightly, “I was at the ball-“

“No, you left before I did,” he asserted. “What were you doing in the time before you arrived here?”

Perhaps he was revealing too much. It shouldn’t matter anyway, and a normal person wouldn’t care this much. Even so, if you wanted to say you were just “called to be here”, he could reasonably contest that any information was up for grabs.

The way you stared at him had a way of making his neck warm. It was like you thought the answers were hidden in his eyes, your gaze focused as you supposedly retraced your night.

“Well, I did leave the ball for a little bit…” you recalled slowly.

After allowing you a moment, he pressed a bit, “Why?”

“Oh- Well, um…I needed to use the ladies’ room? At least, that’s the only other time I can remember leaving.”

The ladies’ room…?

Goddess, he was such a fool.

It was his turn to turn his head to the side, “I see.”

If his eyes could have burned the sand, the whole pit would be glass right now. 

His thoughts were quickly interrupted. Out of the corner of his eye, Felix noticed you slipping off your shoes.

“What are you doing?”

“Well,” you started, kicking the raised flats to the side before picking up a training lance from where someone had discarded it, “this dress doesn’t have sleeves, and I figured that if I took my shoes off, it would be easier to move. The slit up my leg should keep me mobile enough, so long as I don’t have to run.”

Damn, you were actually going to do this.

You lowered into a fighting stance upon returning to the pit opposite him. A smile lighting up your face.

“The sand feels so weird. It makes me wonder if this is what the beach feels like.”

But the two of you lived in Faerghus your whole lives, so he couldn’t tell you.

“Don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re dressed differently.”

“Right, then let’s get started.”

You looked prepared to assume the defensive position; a smart move, considering that too much movement might mean you would slip on the long fabric of your clothing.

Felix far from opposed. He was used to being the offense, anyway.

Placing one foot in front of the other, he crossed the grounds and held his sword up to strike. Quick and easy - the point would go to him before you could even-

Your eyes widened, “Felix, wait! Don’t-!”

He hadn’t registered your words fast enough to stop himself. Intuitively, you held your lance up to defend yourself, and that’s when Felix realized what you were so worried about.

The weapon he was using wasn’t meant for sparring.

Breaking above your head, the wooden pole of your lance gave in. Felix stumbled forward, fighting for his balance as you rolled to the side in an attempt to protect your head.

He hissed, cursing himself for making such an amateur (and deadly) mistake, “Damn, my bad.”

“Goddess,” he heard you breathe, your eyes wide from your position on the ground, “I thought I was about to die.”

That was a thought. His eagerness to train and avoid an awkward encounter with you nearly...well, it wouldn’t have been pretty.

Leaving you to get yourself up, he moved to trade the steel sword for a wooden one. The noble also elected to take off his blazer and leave it behind, giving his arms better range of motion.

Turning back around, he noticed you were still struggling to rise to your feet.

“Seriously? It can’t be that hard.”

But just watching you made him want to take it back. The sand had become uneven from when you dodged toward the ground, and your dress kept finding its way under your feet whenever you tried to stand. Whenever you pooled the fabric out of the way in one area, it only gathered in another to slide under you. Not to mention that after so much struggle, the yellow grains were all over your skin and gown. It looked uncomfortable, at best.

Frowning, Felix approached, “Hang on.”

With your consent, he placed his hands at your waist and lifted you to the point you could stand again. You thanked him, a light flush on your cheeks that he tried not to think too hard about.

“I’d say that was embarrassing,” you started, “but considering I very nearly earned a trip to Manuela a moment ago, I don’t think I should care.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Nothing bad came of it, so I don’t mind. Still, you should work on your etiquette.”

The swordsman raised a brow, “Excuse me?”

“You left me to fend for myself in the sand for two minutes while you went to exchange your sword and take off your coat. It’s like I’m not even here,” you teased, approaching the training racks. “And then not only did you prioritize your sword over helping me, but you couldn’t even grab me a new lance.”

“I’m here to fight, nothing else. If you have a problem with that, no one’s forcing you to stay.”

In all fairness, you were right. He was too wrapped up in being with you to register that he was about to hurt you, and then he was too worried about how he almost hurt you to remember to help you back up again.

Why was he so bad at this?

Thankfully, you seemed to ignore the more bitter parts of his previous statement and took it for what it was - a proposition to rematch.

You found your places opposite one another, preparing for a genuine spar. Felix watched you sink into your defensive position again, nodding to confirm you were ready. 

This time when he charged, his sword remained in a lower position. He wanted to slice upwards, reading your potential roll to the side while still being ready to follow up swiftly.

The moment he brought the sword up into you, you pivoted and thrust the lance forward. It would have technically impaled him, but you were courteous enough (and skilled enough) to angle the weapon so it slid against his side instead.

Felix halted the momentum of his arms, bringing them down slowly and preventing the hit he would have landed on you.

“That one goes to you.”

Switching sides with you, the second son ran his hand along his side. A warmup, nothing more. You wouldn’t go down easy, and neither would he.

You were once again prepared, and Felix signaled that the second round had begun, but he did not rush forward. If you wanted to hit him, you would need to put yourself at risk.

It didn’t take long for you to catch on, though you make a point to approach at a casual walk.

“Are you serious?”

“Are you? You think I’m foolish enough to run at you after I couldn’t stand on my own? If you wanted to go fast, you should have taken up offense again.”

Once you were close enough, you suddenly lunged twice and brought your lance down and across his body. Felix lept back before charging forward, but you came in with a block.

You held strong against his resistance, but your feet couldn’t find a proper stance thanks to your limited range of motion. He probably had your fear of slipping on the fabric again to thank, as well.

Deliberately, Felix stepped on your dress.

A gasp parted your lips as the heels of your feet slid forward. You fell backward only for Felix to step forward and catch you, one arm around your back, one hand holding his sword to your throat.

“Th-that’s not fair, and you know it,” you protested, breaths quickened from the adrenaline of almost falling.

“You chose to come fight in this. You think your opponent is going to care how you’re dressed?”

After a moment, you relented, “Fine, you win this one.”

Usually, Felix would be okay with the “whatever means necessary” ideology. When it came to you, however, it only worried him. Did he really need you to have a disadvantage for him to win?

He lowered you to the ground before picking you up again, presuming you would take longer to regain your footing if he left you on the sand. You were set upright on your feet at the solid edge of the pit.

As he reached the other side of the sands, he noted that you still looked bitter - probably about the last point. Perhaps that could work in his favor.

However, even after several seconds, the emotion in your eyes didn’t go away. You appeared almost…insulted?

In the back of his mind, he retraced his steps. You yielded the point how you normally would, and you weren’t a sore loser. You appeared more baffled than anything when he had tripped you…

Shit.

Felix had completely manhandled you out of the training area.

And that would explain why you were simultaneously glaring daggers into him and scanning him up and down.

“Don’t worry, I’ll attack this time,” the bluenette managed. In fear of being wrong and coming off egotistical, that was probably the best apology he could give right now.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

No, you were decidedly not happy.

He approached, trying to build as much momentum as possible before choosing to open with a block. If you were looking to parry an attack, he would be left with an opening. If you were looking to block him too, he would likely knock you to the ground and gain the point.

Maybe then he could offer to help you up properly.

No, he needed to stay focused. He was training right now, not apologizing.

Effectively distracted, neither of his plans came to fruition as you reached out and grabbed his cravat, pulling it down and causing him to run past you.

“Wh-!”

A dull stab at his back shoved him out of bounds, taking away any chance he had at regaining his balance. He tumbled to the ground.

“You’ve been impaled, that’s mine.”

He wanted to be mad, but he was more shocked than anything. After all, he could hardly complain after doing a similar thing to you last round.

A hand in his peripheral offered to help him to his feet. Accepting it, he rose, picking his sword up off the ground.

At least that seemed to get everything out of your system, “Maybe you were right, we can’t really accomplish anything serious while we’re dressed like this.”

“It’s not like we…”

A song loud enough to be heard from within the training ground bounced against the walls. It caught him off guard, especially since he hadn’t been able to hear any music since you closed the doors earlier. Whatever they were playing now, the whole orchestra was involved.

“The last dance already?” your head turned to the entrance, as well. “There’s no way…”

“Did you promise someone a dance?” he guessed.

“Something like that,” you worried. “I told Annette and Mercedes that I would be sure to dance with at least someone tonight after all they did for me. I…kind of got carried away watching earlier, and then I got scared I would forget the moves, and then I left to come here.”

He didn’t know what to say, but there was no way you could go back now. Sand covered your slightly tousled hair, your gown, and he was sure it found its way into your shoes. Your cheeks were still somewhat red from earlier, and…

It was all his fault. He even stepped on your gown without thinking.

Goddess, he really needed to start using his head.

Tossing his sword into the sand, Felix took the lance from your hands and threw it aside too. Swiftly, he retrieved your shoes and placed them in front of you.

“Felix, there’s no way…” but you slid them on anyway, “…and the song already began. It will be over by the time I get there.”

Face unreadable, your classmate extended a hand to you. “Do you think it would count if we started now?”

“Wait, what? You…want to dance with me?”

“If you don’t want me to be your partner after everything that’s happened tonight, I’ll understand-“

You took his hand, placing your own on his shoulder and facing him completely, “You lead. I’m still not certain how this one goes.”

It was a lie. It must have been. The moment the pair of you felt the music together, you were off. The strings followed a simple waltz - an accessible dance that even most commoners could perform. An obvious choice for the last dance of the night.

He knew his frame to be stiff, but it didn’t matter. Especially not when you were so blatantly stealing the hypothetical show, swaying and leaning back as the two of you spun gracefully around an invisible point on the ground. Your arms barely ghosted his own.

In a rare moment, he wished his dance partner were less aware, less experienced. He wanted you to lean on him so he could lead you through the dance, but he knew that was not in your nature.

You were charming, assured, and independent. The dance belonged to you, so much so that he felt like a mere prop. He supposed that was how it went in the theatres Sylvain had always dragged him to in the past. The women stole the spotlight while the men were evaluated on how good they could make their partners look.

There was no doubt. You deserved a better partner.

“Hey,” his voice was unsure. It had been several measures since he last used it. “I…you shouldn’t be dancing with me.”

“What are you talking about?” you smiled, coming back to his chest and resuming your normal posture.

“I mean you should be in the great hall, dancing with someone that would actually do you justice,” he suddenly didn’t want to face you. “I feel like I took that away from you. I spend all my time here working with a sword - my last dancing lesson ended when I was twelve.”

He stopped himself, spinning you away before he could say too much. This was about you. You had missed what could have been one of the biggest days of your life. He pulled you back in and met your eyes. Felix missed an event he already planned on skipping.

“...it’s nice. I prefer it. This way it’s just us.”

“Just us?” he hoped you couldn’t hear his heartbeat.

“Oh- I only mean- I don’t have to worry about anyone staring at me because I don’t know the steps or anything.”

It was beginning to make him angry, if only because it made no sense, “Why do you keep saying that?”

You were caught off guard, slipping up for the first time tonight. Felix finally felt useful, steadying you enough to fall back into the orchestra’s rhythm.

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” you lowered your voice like you were telling him a secret. “That’s what my sister told me. She and everyone that visited the manor.”

Blinking a bit, you turned to the side, “I’m doing it wrong. My steps are too wide. My arms are too heavy. I must be repulsed by my partner if I’m leaning back that much. Those kinds of things.”

Your partner merely scoffed, “Jealous.”

He hadn’t meant for it to slip out, but he knew.

“They can’t do what you can. There are nobles all over Fodlan like that; people who don’t like being shown up. They’ll say anything to make you give up or feel bad about yourself, but they lack the ambition to do any better themselves.”

“You really think so?”

“Have you met anyone better at dancing than yourself?”

“Well, I…I’ve never seen myself dance before.”

“Then take my word for it. Show Professor Byleth if you doubt it, but just be prepared for her to demand a rematch for the Heron Cup.”

Honestly, Felix didn’t know why he was being so forward about this. It was just another unjust part of the world they were all tripping over themselves to fix, he supposed. Still, if dancers could be trained for the battlefield, he saw no reason for his house to settle on an amateur.

The piano slowed to play a few high notes and end the song on a major chord. Accordingly, the two of you came to a stop.

“Thank you,” you stepped away timidly, “for the dance…and…”

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel better. Manuela could teach you - you could do this on the battlefield much better than whoever actually won the competition.”

You hummed, probably pondering the thought.

Presuming it was time to head back before you both could be found and accused of something mindless, Felix picked up your weapons from where he had discarded them. He caught you brushing the sand off your skin and down your dress before he left to put the items away. The blazer he set aside earlier found its way to his back again, his cravat tucked in appropriately.

You waited across the hall to hold the door for him. Once you both walked through, it shut with a final thud, sealing away everything that happened in the training grounds that night.

He saw you talking to Professor Byleth after class the next day. Although he couldn’t hear what you were saying, some part of him hoped you chose to take his words to heart.

Perhaps it had been a good time to host a ball.

[yanderehsr]

Just read the ex-fiance Sylvain scenario, gonna add it was ~muah🤌 I'm gonna say like, hold on a second, you have fe3h favourites and yet to be known by us like, which ones is your top 3???

And here, I wanna make a request with any of the big mystery trio that suits the scenario.

It's finally the ball at Garegh March.

In the tumultuous crowd of dancing students and careless adults, what do we notice ?

We see the darling making they're way toward the Godess Tower, surely overwhelmed by those that don't deserve their time.

Why not use the opportunity to get some quality time, moreover to make a promise in front of their "soon to be s/o" and the Godess about their blissful future ❤️

Might as well shove in a dark corner the pesky nuisance that choose to follow in advance their future spouse~🖤

Sure, my top three are 1. Edelgard, 2. Byleth and 3. Hilda

Also I have no clue who the big mystery trio is so I'm just gonne guess it is the house leaders.

Hope you'll enjoy😄

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Murder

My first thought was immediatly Dimitri, boy is just so depraved and desperate to have his darling that he chooses to follow his darling anywhere, but when he sees you go to the goddess tower how could he ever resist following you there, he starts dreaming of you two together, the promise he will make you and of you with HIS last name.

That other bug who decided to follow you here was swiftky taken care off, Dimitri didn't even spare them a second glance, they must have been stupid if they thought they had a shot at you. He would have killed everyone else at the ball as well if he could, he feels disgusted that others have the privilege to see you.

When Dimitri finally introduces himself to you he is all smiles and such a gentleman, nothing like the ruthless beast who just killed someone else moments ago, you should consider yourself lucky that the light was bad here, who knows what he would have done had you seen the stains of blood on his clothes.

"You have no idea how much I care for you, I'm a bit afraid that you'll fear me when you see just how deep my love goes for you"

[yellowocaballero]

Weekenders Side Story: Byleth Gets Turned Into A Cat; Felix Causes Problems On Purpose

“You know humans can’t spontaneously become cats, right?”

“So far as we know,” Dimitri stressed. “Magic can perform impossibilities, can’t it? Annette and Byleth were practicing magic for hours yesterday. She could have magically turned into a cat!”

“Uh huh.” Felix hadn’t expected that to work, but might as well make the attempt. “What are the other reasons it reminds you of Byleth?”

“Its fur is the exact shade of her old hair color, and its eyes are the same shade as her current eyes. One would assume it’s just a castle stray -” Left unsaid: like Felix was undoubtedly assuming. He absolutely was. “ - but none of the castle strays are affectionate to either of us. It’s well-groomed and its fur is silky, which is another case in point against it being a stray. Its claws and teeth are wickedly sharp and it wields them with dexterity. It clearly doesn’t possess bloodlust, but it’s always lying in wait for battle. There is something calculated about its expressions, as if they are not quite natural to its face. And the stare speaks for itself!”

Dimitri knows Byleth turned into a cat. It's very obvious. You can tell just by looking at her. Why doesn't anybody believe him? Dimitri never says untrue things. People turn into cats all the time. He's not hallucinating this time he swears.

In which everybody thinks Dimitri is hallucinating, Sylvain grapples with love and family, a young boy finds his destiny, and Byleth has the best month of her life.

A friend asked me to write this and so somehow I did. If you were into Weekenders I highly recommend this, as it is basically the 'Five Years Later' story.

20k of shit getting weird under the cut. I spent so long writing Felipe as the world's most pretentious 15yo that it was weird to mentally smash cut into him as a baby. He's a democratic socialist but just because he hates his dad. He won't stop lecturing Sara on praxis and is convinced that he's in touch with the underprivileged despite being the most privileged teen boy in the country. The OCs have lore guys.

“Felix. Wake up.”

Unfortunately, Felix woke instantly. Seven years of battlefields made a light sleeper. Worse, the voice was Dimitri’s. 

It took longer to realize that he was in his opulent four poster bed in his castle suite. There was no slip dip of the mattress beside him - Annette must have fallen asleep at her desk again. Instead, his only companion in his bedchambers was the King of Faerghus Dimitri Blaiddyd. Who was standing next to his bed. Holding a cat.

“Please,” Felix said, “tell me this important.”

The presence of the cat indicated that it probably wasn’t. Nobody delivered news of another invasion holding a cat. Dimitri would have sent a runner to knock on his door, anyway - kings didn’t fetch people. 

Dimitri flashed a ridiculous pair of cow eyes at him. He held up the slim-but-fluffy black cat in his arms indicatively, as if that could possibly indicate anything. “I need your help in determining if my wife turned into a cat.”

Alright. Felix took a careful breath in and out. He reminded himself that in Dimitri’s world this was an emergency. That Dimitri was doing exactly what they asked him to do, that even asking Felix to confirm the delusion was a sign of incredible effort and will from Dimitri, and that he was coming to Felix because he trusted him to help him feel safe. None of this changed the fact that it was ass o’clock and the King of Faerghus had, again, woken him up because he thought his wife was a cat. But it was important, and it did help. 

Felix leaned over and lit the candle on his bedside with a finger, immediately bathing them in soft candlelight. He saw that Dimitri was in his nightclothes - that he wasn’t even wearing his eyepatch - and that the cat seemed very satisfied with its current position in life. He must have come straight from bed.

“I see,” Felix said evenly. “Can you tell me why Byleth is a cat?”

Dimitri lowered the cat, face falling. “That’s your ‘humoring the mental patient’ voice - no. No, this does sound insane.” He shook himself, holding the cat a little tighter to his chest. “Byleth and I worked on paperwork until 2200 hours. We stayed up for a little while talking, and went to bed at 2230. I believe I fell asleep before she did. Fifteen minutes ago, I woke up suddenly and saw that Byleth was gone. In her place was this cat. Which is obviously Byleth.”

Dimitri held up the cat. Felix looked at the cat. The cat looked at Felix.

Dimitri cuddled the cat closer to his chest, making it close its eyes and purr happily. Somewhat defensively - somewhat exhaustedly - he said, “I am…very, very convinced this cat is Byleth. No part of my mind is telling me any differently. But I recognize that it seems…improbable from the outside. As such, I decided to ask you to help snap me out of this. Or confirm my suspicions, as necessary. I hoped to also call upon Annette, but it seems she fell asleep at her table again. I trust in your discretion.”

Felix sighed and threw aside the covers, dragging himself out of bed. He was only in his boxers, but they were years beyond modesty at this rate. “Obviously. Here, give me the cat.”

With some reluctance, Dimitri passed the cat into Felix’s arms. It was lithe, slender, and attractively fluffy. It was perfectly happy with being tossed about a bit, and it immediately snuggled happily into Felix’s arms and cocked its head at Felix in pure and innocent curiosity. In the candlelight, the black coat shone dark blue.

Its eyes were gigantic, and a strange shade of mint green. It had…the blankest, yet most intense, stare he’d ever seen in a cat. It didn’t move - it just looked at him, trapping Felix in its hypnotic stare and freezing him still. It held eye contact with him for a very long time. Felix broke first, looking away as his spine crawled. That cat knew your sins. 

Well. Felix honestly saw where Dimitri was coming from. He couldn’t say that, obviously - affirming the delusion was a terrible idea. But the cat really was horribly reminiscent of Byleth. He’d never seen any other living being stare like that…

“Do you see what I mean?” Dimitri hissed. “Doesn’t it have Byleth’s uncanny aura?”

It absolutely did. Felix was not about to admit this. “It’s pretty cute.” It was - it felt innocent and pure, yet draped in apex predator blood. “You know humans can’t spontaneously become cats, right?”

“So far as we know,” Dimitri stressed. “Magic can perform impossibilities, can’t it? Annette and Byleth were practicing magic for hours yesterday. She could have magically turned into a cat!”

“Uh huh.” Felix hadn’t expected that to work, but might as well make the attempt. “What are the other reasons it reminds you of Byleth?”

“Its fur is the exact shade of her old hair color, and its eyes are the same shade as her current eyes. One would assume it’s just a castle stray -” Left unsaid: like Felix was undoubtedly assuming. He absolutely was. “ - but none of the castle strays are affectionate to either of us. It’s well-groomed and its fur is silky, which is another case in point against it being a stray. Its claws and teeth are wickedly sharp and it wields them with dexterity. It clearly doesn’t possess bloodlust, but it’s always lying in wait for battle. There is something calculated about its expressions, as if they are not quite natural to its face. And the stare speaks for itself!”

Dimitri finished his speech with a flourish, as if it was all irrefutable evidence. He waited expectantly for Felix to give a retort and refute his points. This time, Felix was floundering. It was normally pretty easy to parse out Dimitri’s illogical trains of thought and help him realize that they weren’t possible. His ideas got really out-there. This was also an out-there idea, but this time he didn’t seem deterred by the obvious impossibility.

He seemed clear and present, but he must be worse off than Felix originally guessed. Damn it. They had so many meetings tomorrow.

He really did not miss this feeling of completely hitting a wall. “Did anybody tell you this, Dima?”

“It was all basic deduction!” Dimitri said heatedly.

“It’s alright if somebody told you.” Fuck, Felix was tired. “Was it Monica again? Or the Dark Mage?”

Dimitri jerked back a little, hurt flashing on his face. Damn it, don’t make Felix feel like shit over this. He was the one so dead-set on the cat thing. “You won’t even entertain the possibility?”

“I’m a master-class mage, Dima. Magic can’t turn full-bred humans into cats.”

“It could have been a blessing by the Goddess.”

“Byleth has a very irregular sleep schedule. She’s always getting up in the middle of the night and walking around. Have you checked the castle pond for her? The stables? The garden?” Judging by Dimitri’s sullen look downwards, he hadn’t. So he really hadn’t been thinking clearly. “Do you need me to check those spots with you?”

It must have been very obvious from the look on Felix’s face that he really, really didn’t want to. Felix had ten meetings today and he’d have ten meetings tomorrow, and he really wanted to go back to the scant few hours of sleep he could scrape. 

Twenty five was a pretty young age to rule an entire country - especially when Dimitri  hadn’t mentally been up to very much for five years. And it wasn’t just Faerghus anymore. He ruled the ‘Territory of Adrestia’ now too. Faerghus had swallowed the Alliance back up, and its lords had all been forced to swear fealty back to Faerghus again. The guy was now effectively the ruler of Fodlan. Anybody in his position would believe that their wife’s a cat.

“I can manage on my own,” Dimitri said stiffly. He held out his arms. “I apologize for waking you up. Please return By - the cat to me.”

Despite himself, Felix hesitated. Dimitri hated even touching live animals - he was always scared that he’d crush them. Bad experience with a frog when he was nine. He hadn’t hurt an animal since, and Felix knew he never would, but…

Dimitri saw the hesitation. It was clear how much Felix had hurt him. But he just sucked it up and took it - as always, after all this time - and he just let his arms drop. 

“Never mind,” Dimitri whispered. “Sorry.”

Before Felix could apologize to him, the cat abruptly wriggled out of Felix’s arms. He let it escape, allowing the cat to jump down onto the floor, and he and Dimitri watched in silence as the cat gracefully trotted away. There was something so familiar about that swaying gait…

That solved that problem. Dimitri didn’t chase after it, which solved another. 

Dimitri turned around and left his room. Felix could almost see the cape snapping at his heels. He was in his sleeping clothes in the dead of night, trying desperately to convince Felix that his ex-private school teacher and current wife was a cat, but it was somehow still impossible to mistake him for anything other than a king.

Felix rubbed his face and groaned. Out of all the times to fall asleep at your desk, Annette…

Sleep was a long time coming that night, and in the morning Felix was tired after all.

***

The next morning was as miserable as expected. 

Felix never had high hopes for it. Every trip to the castle was marked by a month of nonstop useless meetings and wastes of breath lords. He had a million reasons to resent his father, but forcing him to be Lord High Marshall to His Majesty etc was one of the worst. Felix had always assumed Glenn would be stuck with the horrifyingly important positions and that he’d be free to manage the fiefdom while Glenn was busy being important. Now Felix was important. And he couldn’t even complain about it, because every time he complained about it his old man kept on offering to do it instead and leave Felix to manage the fiefdom.

And fuck that. As if he’d inflict Dimitri on any other sucker. 

But, of course and as usual, the situation forced Felix to be a little more honest with himself. If he could be here every day, he would. Even if it involved retainers and vassals and stuffed shirts. For Annette and Sylvain, obviously. But for Dimitri too. Felix always wanted to be there when he needed him. Every time and always.

Tapping the Blue Lion (they seriously needed a new name for their cult - it was a little embarrassing going by schoolyard names) gossip network was the day’s first order of business. Felix updated Sylvain on the situation during their 0500 training session, and by breakfast every Blue Lion in the castle knew. By the end of breakfast Ingrid had rearranged her guard rotations so she could take the position of Dimitri’s bodyguard for the day - peeving his usual guard, who was well aware of Dimitri���s condition, but Ingrid was the only member of his guard who could step in for him publicly. 

The greater castle gossip network spread a little slower. Felix’s manservant heard from Byleth’s ladies in waiting that they couldn’t find her at all that morning. It was a little unsettling. Byleth had the habit of disappearing into the woods and completely forgetting to tell the people responsible for following her around, so the ladies in waiting were more peeved than worried. Felix remembered how clear Dimitri’s speech had been. 

When Felix spoke to Dimitri and Ingrid personally for the first time that day - nearing mid-day, which said quite a bit - Dimitri obviously knew what was going on and had accepted it with his usual grim resignation. His opinion on their rigid protective detail changed frequently, but at his most even he always carried that air of resignation. Sometimes Felix wondered if he thought he was being punished for something. 

They were both in the hallway moving between conferences, but Felix had learned how to take any opportunity to snatch a minute with Dimitri. Dimitri was attended only by Ingrid, and Felix stopped them both in the middle of the hall and bowed.

“Greetings to Your Majesty,” Felix said. This felt intensely stupid after last night, but it always did. “I pray for your continued good health.”

“Greetings to Lord Fraldarius,” Dimitri said, a little coldly. Ingrid made a sympathetic face from behind him. “How fares your wife?”

“I have not had the pleasure of seeing her today.” They all grimaced together. Workaholic woman. “Your Majesty, may I borrow your guard for a minute?”

For just a second, Dimitri looked a little more tired than usual. He was aware they were about to gossip about how to handle the cat-wife situation behind his back. “Of course. Captain Galatea, return at your leisure.”

Ingrid stepped out from behind Dimitri, bowing as a knight to a lord before shooting him a concerned look. “If His Majesty has a minute to join us, his company would be welcome.”

Felix grimaced apologetically. “His Majesty must be very busy. I wouldn’t want to occupy his time with this small matter.”

Read: Dimitri was not invited. They both frowned in apology to Dimitri, who just shuttered his expression and waved them off. Five more retainers immediately swarmed him, and Felix and Ingrid quickly whisked themselves away to a small conference room. The people using it were less important than they were, so they kicked out the idiots and locked the doors behind them. 

Immediately, Felix said, “This sounds stupid, but you need to send your guards out searching for Byleth.”

Also immediately, Ingrid said, “Please do not tell me that you also think Byleth is a cat.”

“Of course I don’t!” Felix snapped. Ingrid raised an eyebrow, and he immediately subsided. “Look. You didn’t see that cat. It was - reminiscent. And nobody’s seen Byleth at all. Finding her would put the matter to rest.”

Ingrid sighed. “Dimitri wanted to check the garden ponds himself. I had to call in one of Byleth’s handmaidens and have her attest that they’ve already looked all over the castle. She’s going to feel awful when she learns that she worried Dimitri…maybe it’ll be enough for her to finally start telling us where she goes all day.”

“Then tell the guards to find her. Say that I need her urgent signature or something.” 

“If you think it’s important, I will.” When had Felix earned that trust? Why? He was literally Felix. “But I won’t mobilize the castle guards without Dimitri’s approval. How should we handle this?”

Felix sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Sylvain said to let it run its course until it becomes a problem. Is he showing any other symptoms?”

But Ingrid just shook her head, looking troubled. “Absolutely none. You know how sometimes he feels a deep worry, but he hides it because he thinks we won’t understand?”

“If that man starts thinking we turned her into a cat -”

“No, not at all. It’s only that he knows we won’t believe him.” Ingrid’s brow furrowed - like Dimitri, more worried than she would like to admit. “It’s hard to do anything for him like this.”

“Flayn would know.”

“Or Byleth.”

The two least emotionally intelligent Blue Lions stood in miserable silence. They mutually attempted to design a respectful, sensitive, and efficient way of solving the problem. They were too emotionally stupid, and they mutually failed miserably. 

“Fuck it, let’s just tell him.”

“Agreed.”

Kidnapping Dimitri was a tall ask, but when Felix returned Ingrid to Dimitri he was able to somehow do it so aggressively that they gained a small bubble of privacy. Felix tried to weaponize his unpleasantness these days.

Ingrid bowed lowly, as a knight to her king. “Your Majesty. Permission to mobilize the castle knights to search the surrounding area for Her Grace.”

Dimitri perked up immediately, and temporarily forgot himself. “Does that mean you believe me?”

Felix and Ingrid adopted poker faces. The implication was clear. Dimitri’s hopeful face fell, and Felix saw him struggle to replace that impassive kingly demeanor. 

He stepped closer, lowering his voice and hissing, “Why are you sending the guards if you don’t believe me, then?”

“It never hurts to be thorough with Her Grace’s safety,” Ingrid said. Nice one. “We want to do our due diligence.”

Dimitri’s voice lowered further, only barely audible to Ingrid and Felix. “Are you or are you not humoring me?”

Felix and Ingrid winced as one.

They were both remembering the same moment - years and years ago, when a raging ‘up and out’ Dimitri accused them of humoring his repeated insistences that the Adrestian mages were using telepathy to project messages into his mind. He had thrown a chair against the cabin wall. It had been the first time Mercedes had to knock him out from concern that he would hurt something or someone else besides himself. 

Dimitri remembered it too. He backed away, closing off his expression, but Felix knew the hunch of those shoulders. Pure Dimitri-class shame. And the Dimitri-special ‘Everything I did while I couldn’t control myself makes me a bad person’. And that particular tightening of the eyes indicated the classic variant ‘I wish my friends had allowed me to freeze to death in the Faerghus winter instead of taking care of me’. Goddess, he was stupid.

“You have my permission for anything you must do,” Dimitri said stiffly. “No need to inform me.”

Which was code for ‘I know I’m compromised right now, so do whatever damage control you want, sorry in advance for the extra work’. It was normally a relief to hear - for more than one reason - but now…

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Ingrid bowed again. “I’ll send the order at once.”

Felix copied her, but he found himself hesitating. That was never a bad thing. It didn’t happen often enough. “Your Majesty. Do you remember when you and Flayn stayed in that small village in the base of the mountains?” Dimitri stared at him blankly. He was correct: those five years were fuzzy for him. Sometimes Felix wondered if he remembered more than he admitted. “You kept on telling Flayn that the village was overrun by Adrestian mages. She said that you were on high alert during your entire stay. Apparently your caution was how Flayn realized that a group of travelers were plain clothed scouts from the Adrestian army. It may have saved your cover.”

Dimitri blanched, apparently shocked. “I did? I was right?”

“They were not experts in telepathic magic,” Felix said, somewhat circumspect, “but paranoia was a smart move in those days. You weren’t always wrong, Your Majesty.” 

“It used to make Lady Byleth sad,” Ingrid said quietly. Felix nodded, but Dimitri just looked away. “She once told me that you wouldn’t be so scared all of the time if there wasn’t anything to be scared of.” 

“Lady Byleth also blamed herself for involving me in my own coup and the war for my own kingdom,” Dimitri said, stiff and unyielding. Felix knew that the topic was a sore spot between them. Byleth had vented about it more than once to Felix. And cried about it, which had been deeply alarming. “I take responsibility for my own burdens. And I would not burden you two with my own…beliefs.” 

Ingrid and Felix gave him identical ‘you aren’t a burden, asshole’ eyes. Dimitri knew the eyes perfectly well and pretended he did not. He turned away from them and made eye contact with a courier, and just like that their personal time came to an end. More than they usually got. 

Ingrid and Felix exchanged long-suffering glances. But something rose in her expression, and Felix had to admit it rose on his too: 

Felix didn’t know a lot about blessings from the Goddess. He didn’t know any Faith magic, forbidden magic, or experimental atomic magic. He knew nothing about beastkin, dragonkin, or catgirls. He was not a religious man and wasn’t even a particularly friendly man. But even he had to ask himself…

…what if his professor had turned into a cat?

***

Felix recruited Sylvain for the cause, because he clearly didn’t have enough to do.

Grand Chamberlain was such a fake job. Sylvain was probably the smartest Grand Chamberlain in two hundred years, but Dimitri’s uncle had gutted the position so severely that it was a little fake. Then King Dimitri unified Fodlan, appointed Sylvain to the position, and un-faked the job via signing off on whatever he wanted to do. In a move that would have made the teenage Blue Lions faint from shock, Sylvain loaded himself up with as many responsibilities as he could and lifted every burden from Dimitri’s shoulders that he could manage. Even beyond what he could manage, sometimes. The Blue Lions were experts in collusion to make him take a break (Mercedes persuading him to take a break, Dimitri signing off on the break, Annette and Felix taking over his duties, Petra shipping him off to the beach), but those moments were few and far between.

And that wasn’t even mentioning the baby.

Felix easily kicked aside the guards outside of Sylvain’s office, shoving open the door and finding Sylvain in the exactly expected location (giant fancy desk) doing exactly the expected things (paperwork). Felix would have come earlier, but he had squeezed Sylvain’s schedule out of his assistant and timed his approach for the handful of hours that Sylvain did not have a meeting. 

“You’re helping me out with the Catleth situation.” 

Sylvain looked up, pained but not surprised. “With the cat or with Dimitri?”

“We’re finding the cat.”

“You don’t need me for that.” Felix opened his mouth. “If you make any pussy jokes I’m throwing you out of this castle.”

“You don’t have the authority to do that.” He did. With Dimitri indisposed, Sylvain had the administrative final word. Byleth had the Blue Lion final word, which was a subtle yet distinct difference. “If I’m going to spend my free hour hunting down a cat then I’m going to multitask while doing it. You’re coming with me.”

“How is that multitask -”

“It’s making you take a break. Up.”

Sylvain got up. They swapped abilities to bully each other about once every five years, and it was Felix’s turn. 

The castle was sprawling and it was not short on cats. Cats were one of the few things that made Lady Byleth smile, so the groundskeepers were under orders to leave them running around so long as they didn’t disrupt anything. Sylvain immediately began plotting out a systematic search that began at the fringes of the castle and circled inwards - a move that was basically identical to their standard military tactics to eradicate the fleeing dregs of enemy forces. Felix blatantly ignored him and forced him in a straight line outwards. 

“Are we just doing this to make Dimitri feel better?” Sylvain asked, successfully prying himself away from Felix’s iron grip. Damn lancers and their upper body strength. “If we are, then we should probably invite him to this very useful expedition that is a great use of our time.”

“Ingrid mobilized the guards to make him feel better. We are searching for the cat.” A passing page tried to get Felix’s attention. He blatantly ignored them. Dumbass Sylvain had to wave and grimace apologetically. Just get a reputation as an asshole. It was easy. “It’s a better use of our time than idiot forms and idiot idiots.”

“Shit, you’re being serious.” Sylvain stopped short, forcing Felix to stop with him. He looked sternly down at Felix, who forcibly reminded himself that it was his turn to bully Sylvain. “You said that Dimitri thought it might be magic. You’re the mage between us, Felix. Do you really think that Byleth could have magically turned into a cat?”

“Magic isn’t an x factor,” Felix said curtly. “It’s not limited by the beautiful reaches of our imagination. Reason magic is a mathematics and science that produces certain sensible results. Like lightning. There’s no Reason equation for turning a human into a cat.”

“What about Faith?”

“Oh, Faith’s bullshit.”

Sylvain crossed his arms. “Faith’s magic. Annette knows -”

“Annette’s shitty at Faith.”

“Annette thinks shittiness is a moral failing.” Stone faced, Felix pumped his fist in the air - their standard ‘Go Blue Lions!’ gesture. “She was like that before Lady Byleth got her hands on her and you know it.” Felix rolled his eyes. “She made all of us worse, your wife isn’t special.”

Felix pinched the bridge of his nose hard. “Look. Byleth forced all of us to have basic proficiency in all types of magic. I know enough theory behind Faith to understand that it bolsters the body to approach the ultimate ideal form of the goddess. The goddess’ body is immaculate, so it heals the body. The goddess’ body is powerful, so it provides buffs. The goddess is not a cat.”

“Wow,” Sylvain said, impressed. “That is bullshit.”

“Fucking hated learning that shit, but Byleth manipulated me into getting competitive with Annette and forced me to learn it.” The increasingly intense rivalry had turned their relationship from casual into something far more serious. It had taken years for them all to accept that Byleth had arranged all of their relationships, much like she had arranged their lives. “Here, quiet down.”

The best fishing spot in the castle was the large pond in the center of the castle. It was rich with fish, had a peaceful ambiance, and even possessed a waterfall. Byleth’s favorite fishing spot was way out on the outskirts of the castle and bordered a cow pasture. Fishing was a meditative task, and for her it demanded maximum isolation. At Garreg Mach they could clearly see her fishing at the docks during most of her free periods, but nobody was stupid enough to bother her. She had a way of making the blankest stare feel hostile. 

Cows lowed among them, peaceful and stinky. Felix and Sylvain pulled on their hard months of stealth training and snuck through the brittle and scraggly bush, ducking beneath overhanging branches and gently sidling out of the brush to the other side. 

The sight was unimpressive: the pond was just as scabby and tattered as the bush, and the sagging tree branches spread over the pond creaked in the weak spring breeze. Despite the spring, the pond’s foliage was limp and cracked. The only redeeming feature was the solid selection of particularly stupid fish. Due to a confluence of all of these factors, it was Byleth’s favorite fishing spot.

Sylvain leaned close into Felix’s ear. “Didn’t Byleth’s handmaidens already search the fishing spots?”

“Not this one. It’s her secret spot. Nobody with half a brain would tramp through all of this cow shit.”

“Then why do you know about it?”

Special Tea Time. “Classified.”

“The fuck does that -”

Felix slapped a hand over Sylvain’s mouth. Silence and stealth was now of the utmost priority. He had found his quarry. 

Of course, the quarry was the Debatably-Byleth Cat. It was sitting exactly at Byleth’s favorite place to sit on the bank, leaning over the pond as its tail lashed. Its eyes tracked the surface of the water, alert and ready as it waited over its prey. The cat’s fur had looked black last night, but in the color in the daylight was clearly dark blue. 

“That’s supposed to be Byleth?” Sylvain hissed. “Felix, it’s obviously a -”

“Watch!”

Felix almost missed it. The cat had watched its quarry for over a minute, but in retrospect it had clearly just been waiting for the right opportunity. The cat lashed out a gleaming silver claw, spearing a fish and pulling it out of the water. The movement was smooth as silk and so quick that Felix barely caught it. The fish flopped pathetically onto the shores of the bank, and the cat wasted no time in almost swallowing the fish whole. It was probably the most impressive hunting Felix had ever seen.

The cat finished its meal and settled down happily onto the banks, flopping on its side to enjoy the gentle sun. Looking at its serene little squints, you could never tell that it had speared a fish and swallowed it whole in under three seconds. The bat of its paw was perfectly calculated to almost mathematic precision.

“Holy shit,” Sylvain said. “Byleth’s a cat.”

“I’m gonna have to apologize to Dimitri,” Felix said blankly. “Damn. I hate doing that.”

The cat re-embarked on its precise hunt, its bloodlust insatiable. Sylvain looked abjectly depressed. “He’s never going to forget this. This is going to validate him.”

Worst case scenario. “Maybe we don’t have to tell him?” Felix offered. Sylvain gave him a bizarre look. “What? What do you think’s going to upset him more, a missing wife or a cat wife?”

“Impossible to tell.” Sylvain faced down the cat grimly. It - she - casually speared another fish, shoving it down its gullet. Where was she putting it away? That fish was half as big as she was. “We gotta catch that cat.”

“I’m not getting into a fucking chase scene with our cat professor, Sylvain.”

Sylvain whistled, bright and sharp, and Felix immediately shoved him. The cat’s head rose, turning her head as her eyes locked straight onto Sylvain and Felix. They both fought instinctive quailing and the urge to apologize for disrupting the sacred fishing time.

Damn it. This was the point of stealth. She was going to freak out and run off, and Felix would actually be stuck in a horrible little chase scene with his academy professor -

The cat trotted over to them, tail swaying happily, and Felix and Sylvain froze as the cat stopped at their feet and blinked solemnly up at them. Those piercing mint green eyes made Felix understand how the fish felt. Sylvain, still traumatized from the academy, froze in horror and fear. 

Felix bent down and scooped up the cat. He bounced her a little, holding her like a baby, and she meowed delightedly. Sylvain stared at the stone faced Felix and the happily purring cat, rapidly losing all will to live.

“She’s very friendly,” Felix said blandly. 

Sylvain bent down a little, making eye contact with the pleased cat. Hesitantly, he said, “Professor? Is that you?”

The cat mrrp’d. 

“Meow if you can understand me, Professor.”

The cat yawned. 

“I think Byleth might be a regular cat,” Felix said, scratching her behind the ears. “So what do we do now, your lordship Grand Chamberlain?”

“I wish I was in a meeting,” Sylvain said, desolate.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t.” Sylvain sighed, running his hand through his hair. “We can’t let anybody find out about this. The future queen of Faerghus is a cat…how did this even happen? Damn it, why does this only happen to us? What are we supposed to do with her?”

“I don’t know,” Felix said, “does your son want a pet?”

“He’s nine months old, he doesn’t want anything,” Sylvain snapped. “Gather everybody. I’m calling a house meeting. Including Dimitri and the cat.”

Felix raised Cat Byleth to eye level, bouncing her a little. “What do you think, my lady? Are you making a new rule of the Blue Lions? Is it ‘we only eat trout’? ‘If we can fit in it, we can sit in it’? ‘Our kittens are acquaintances’?”

“Let’s go, Felix! And don’t let go of that cat!”

Man, he was cranky lately. 

***

Sylvain did absolutely have a baby. He had met the squirt around twice. It was hilarious.

The birth of Felipe Emilie Gautier was celebrated throughout the country, and the blessing of the goddess was assumed: Sylvain and Mercedes Gautier’s first child was a boy and born with a crest. You couldn’t get any luckier. Dimitri had been hailed by the country as a miracle baby because he was the king and queen’s first child and was born a boy with a crest. There had been celebrations in the streets for a week. 

Good thing, too. Sylvain had refused to have any mistresses. His children would be born via Mercedes, and fuck everybody else. Maybe the goddess had approved of the romanticism.

Sylvain’s position as heir Gautier had already been locked down. But his war heroism, decorated office, and blessed child catapulted him into the second most powerful position in Fodlan. To Felix, it was clearly a little disconcerting for him: nobody had ever valued Sylvain for anything beyond his crest. Nobody outside of the cult had ever respected Sylvain as a person. Sylvain’s reputation in their schooling and his home had been of an empty-headed callous playboy, and no amount of kindness, intelligence, and wisdom from him could dent that reputation. Obviously, war heroism and kingly favoritism turned that around. He was an invaluable asset in making Fodlan strong. Look at his baby.

Sylvain did not look at his baby that often. As much as Felix gave him shit about it, he knew that it was natural. Sylvain worked in the castle and the Gautier capital was two weeks of travel. Losing a month of work to travel was unacceptable, never mind the time spent at home. Sylvain had spent a month at home when Mercedes gave birth and returned six months later to attend the annual fiefdom congressional meeting. That was it. 

Mercedes herself found that kicking around a castle living with her in-laws was a thoroughly boring experience, so she and Felipe were living at the border of the Duscur territory and working with Dedue to build schools and conduct humanitarian missions and whatever-the-fuck. Even letters took ages to reach her.

Dimitri, by this point thoroughly aware that he had stolen everybody else’s fathers, had immediately offered to move Mercedes and Felipe into the castle. Mercedes herself had declined: she was needed at Duscur, not Fhirdiad. Sylvain understood, for the same reasons that Mercedes understood why he had to live at the castle, and they loved each other as much as ever. But Felix knew a small part of Sylvain was a little relieved too. Sylvain was ashamed of the feeling, but that didn’t stop him.

“Think of it this way,” Felix had said. “You didn’t want to be a father. Mercedes wanted to be a mom. You knew you would lose your place in the line of succession if you didn’t become a father.” If a noble of a crested home didn’t have a child their entire territory would excommunicate them. No exceptions. Hilarious. “Now you and Mercedes both get what you wanted. Mercedes gets a baby, and you get to pretend the baby doesn’t exist.”

Sylvain had actually attacked Felix over that one. 

Technically the situation wasn’t Sylvain’s fault. The sword at his neck forcing him to be a parent was incredibly fucked, there was nobody else any Blue Lion trusted to do his job, and the castle incompetence left him taking on so much work that he couldn’t take a break. Maybe it was mean to tease him for child neglect, as if there was anything he could do about it.

That wouldn’t stop Felix. His father had made, in retrospect, a stunning effort to see him as frequently as possible, but that was maybe glimpses of him for a week every three months. Glenn’s death wasn’t the only thing that had strained their relationship. Even Felix was luckier than his friends: his forced bonding time with Dimitri at the castle once he turned five meant that he saw his father too. Felipe might not be so lucky.

Just because it was unavoidable didn’t make it acceptable. Sylvain was fucking up his relationship with his kid. When that baby was an uncertain child, struggling to navigate the oppressive nature of his world, his father would not guide him. When that baby was a bitter teenager, he would blame the father that didn’t want him for the faults of the world. From this distance, it was easy for Sylvain to forget that. Felix wouldn’t let him. Shoving this pain away would push it onto somebody who didn’t deserve it.

Ingrid and Ashe, the token monogamists, weren’t married out of sheer spite. Petra had asked Ashe to return to Brigid to help her with some invaders, and Ingrid had sent him away with support from ex-Adrestian troops. When he returned, he would probably move in with Ingrid into the castle and raise their own child within the castle. Having that Galatean baby out of wedlock might be a bit extreme even for spite, but Ingrid would probably satisfy herself by eloping with Ashe’s lack of title and absolute poverty. Dimitri’s child wouldn’t steal the baby’s father. An unusually lucky baby. 

As for Felix. Annette had submitted their ten year plan onto Felix’s desk and he had rubber-stamped it. Felix would continue splitting his time between his own lands and his castle; Annette would continue her work as Royal Magician. At age twenty eight, once she received the highest level of acclaim she could receive from the Inter-Continental Magical Association, she would leave her position to her successor and return with Felix to Fraldarius full-time. Annette would have the kid and take up a professorship position at the university as she continued her independent research. Felix, you can split your time in half between the castle and raising the kid. Three children maximum, another if one is a jock. You’re on your own after that one. If you have to choose between the castle and your kids, Felix -

Yes, Annette. He’d pick the children. Almost all of them would. Byleth had raised a strange group. 

The men had even gotten together and unanimously agreed to only resort to mistresses if their wives asked. Sylvain had flatly refused. Almost all of them had a stupid amount of half-siblings: it was extremely common practice for lords to try for children with other women if their wives weren’t delivering on the Crest front. Ingrid had a truly insane level of half-siblings, none of which she had met. Ingrid and Ashe had frankly stated that they were having as many as they felt like having, and that chasing the crested baby was her brother’s job. It was technically meant to be hers, but somewhere along Ingrid’s three hundredth kill she stopped caring about what she was supposed to do.

Sylvain’s monstrous half-brother was actually the full child of the lord and lady - Sylvain himself was the child of his father and apparently the most gorgeous woman in her village. Any crested child out of wedlock was bought from the mother and adopted into the lord and lady’s family, given the title of heir, and treated as if they had been there the entire time. Sylvain was apparently identical to his mother. Maybe. He didn’t look anything like the lord. He took after her in personality too. Maybe. He didn’t act anything like the lord. He had never met her, and his father couldn’t be assed to remember her name. When Sylvain got drunk he wondered how much his mother had sold him for.

The flood of extra children had extra utility: namely, that noble tradition put its nobility on the front lines of war literally all of the time, and they all had the habit of dying like flies. Felix had a funny family story from his grandfather about how a generation of Fraldariuses three generations ago had been wiped out in a war against Sreng. Desperately, they literally had to scavenge together a handful of impoverished village bastard children to fill out their ranks again. His entire noble family were the descendents of mistresses. It was a skeleton in their closet that Felix found hilarious.

None of them knew Dimitri and Byleth’s plan. They were all privately concerned that Byleth didn’t know where babies came from and that Dimitri was too awkward to explain. 

Felix had spent five years as an underground revolutionary. He had fought and won a war that unified the continent. He was one of the five most powerful people on the continent. He was renowned as the greatest Master Savant on the continent and was forced to regularly turn down a flood of requests to take apprentices or teach his methods. But he had never really felt like an adult until he was forced to sit at a table with Annette and haggle out how many uncrested children they would have until Felix would start taking mistresses. 

Or had it been earlier? Maybe it should have been. Maybe the first time Felix helped feed Dimitri should have been his tipping moment into adulthood. It hadn’t. He had only felt achingly young. He had been painfully aware of his own inadequacy: his fear, his helplessness, his daily dances with death. He had wanted the professor. 

For years, they had all wanted the professor. She was the only protector they had who hadn’t split her time between their duties and their families. She had dedicated her entire life to them. Every second of her day was about helping them grow, nurturing their minds, healing their spirit, and pushing them to the brink. It was attention they had never gotten from somebody who had never been obligated to give it. 

Families were obligations and pressures. Families were lonely birthday parties and glimpses of their fathers. Families were false mothers who knew you were a cuckoo in their nest. Families were dead mothers, dead fathers, and an extended family who convinced themselves that you stole your cousin’s nonexistent crest. Families were the price your mother put on your head and the faceless wash of half-siblings who you would never know. 

“The Blue Lions are family,” Ashe had murmured into the dark, a long time ago. A dark cabin and a rare meeting between almost all of them. “Right?”

Ingrid shifted closer against him, creaking the rusty mattress thrown unceremoniously to the floor. “You’re all family to me.” 

Three of her brothers had died in the invasion.

“I believe that we choose the family of our hearts,” Mercedes had said quietly. “My adopted father is no father to me. I care for all of you deeply.”

“None of you would ever abandon me.” Annette’s voice was a little thick. Felix had squeezed her hand. “Of course you’re my family.”

“Family is a complex matter,” Flayn had yawned. They hadn’t even realized she was awake. Girl had always been chronically tired. “It’s somewhat of a construct…but far too much emphasis is placed on blood ties in our society. I’ve always had the freedom to arrange my own family. You all will always be a part of it.”

“Fuck my family and its fucking bloodline shit. I can’t tolerate them. I love you all more than anything. No debate here.” Sylvain reached out and gently tapped Dimitri on the shoulder. Dimitri’s face was buried in his ragged pillow, his silky hair tangled over his sheets. They had successfully wrangled him into a bath yesterday. “What about you, Dimitri? We know you’re awake.”

Dimitri curled up on his side, pointedly putting his back to Sylvain. Voice hoarse and deep, he muttered, “I have a mother and father.”

“And I have a brother,” Felix had said. “The living don’t overwrite the dead. None of us here want to be your mother, anyway.” 

“My sister slaughtered my family.” Alright, maybe bringing up family to Dimitri had been a shit idea. “She’ll kill you too.”

Lightly, Sylvain had said, “We’re pretty tough cookies. Have a little faith in us, Your Highness.”

“You should leave,” Dimitri had hissed. “You’re all going to die.”

Felix had groaned. “Did telling us to abandon you work the last twenty times, asshole?”

“We’re in danger anyway, with or without you,” Ashe had reasonably pointed out. “Together or apart. Might as well do it together, right?”

Dimitri muttered something under his breath and buried his face deeper into the pillow. He pointedly ignored everything they said after that, and they politely let him pretend they weren’t there. 

Their best friends forever schtick was a childish promise at seventeen, and their cutesy found family shit had been a childish promise at nineteen. But it was still true, despite everything: they had all married each other. If you didn’t marry, it barely mattered. Mercedes had been living with Dedue for months, and Ashe was currently on another country’s front lines side by side with Petra. Their family had stayed together. Cute, technically. Definitely the desired outcome for all of them. None of them would have it any other way. 

But hey. Sylvain hadn’t promised his baby to be family forever, had he? 

***

The Blue Lions held their sleepover that night in Dimitri’s chambers. Goddess knew what his guards thought about the late night bedroom meetings. They all had reputations. Sylvain was under the impression that he and Felix were very discreet, which meant that half the castle probably knew. Sure, war rooms and sitting rooms had been invented for a reason, but sitting rooms didn’t have Dimitiri’s gigantic bed. 

The sleepover began without Dimitri. Felix’s wife worked the longest hours, but she was one of the blessed lucky officials without a meeting every hour, so Ingrid had successfully tracked her down and explained the situation. Felix was graced with her company the second he escaped the last nightly obligation of the day and barged into Dimitri’s room. Annette was happily playing with Cat Byleth on Dimitri’s bed. At least she hadn’t escaped. 

“This is the cutest kitty,” Annette gushed. “You are just the most friendly, nicest little stray I’ve ever seen! And so glossy!”

“If you start singing Lady Byleth little songs I’m walking out the door.”

“Aw, but look at her.” Annette held up Cat Byleth, swaying her a little. Cat Byleth stared into Felix’s eyes, judging his soul and assignments. “She deserves little songs. Are we really naming her Lady Byleth? Things are going to get confusing if we do. How about the Professor?”

“Incredibly bad news.”

Annette lowered Cat Byleth, giving Felix a dubious look. “Ingrid said that Dimitri says that…” Felix nodded grimly. “So…we’re dissuading him of that notion, yes?” Felix’s grim look sank six feet under. “Darling?”

“I’ll explain once everyone’s here.”

Sylvain arrived after her, flopping down dramatically next to Annette onto the bed and groaning with exhaustion. Felix dragged over his favorite plush armchair, pushing it against the bed and propping up his shoes on the luxurious embroidered sheets. Sylvain refused to even look at the cat. Annette gleefully cooed at the cat until she fell backwards onto the bed and instantly began snoring. Felix slid a pillow under her head. 

Ingrid joined them shortly afterwards, chugging a beer, and cautiously took a seat on the chaise lounge on the other side of the bed from Felix. Cat Byleth was happily kneading one of the pillows. Ingrid squinted at the cat. Cat Byleth purred. 

Finally, Ingrid proclaimed, “I don’t see it.”

“It’s a very unique shade of eye color,” Felix pointed out.

“Look how happy she is,” Ingrid said. The cat was having the time of her life. “If you were turned into a cat, you wouldn’t have fun like that. Even if you really did have a cat brain, you’d be pretty freaked out. Wouldn’t you?”

Felix had to concede the point. Felix would be biting everything.

Dimitri was the last to arrive. He stopped short when he entered his own quarters, cape already halfway unlatched, and stared blankly at the assembly. Everybody else turned to look at Ingrid, who raised her hands in a plea for innocence. 

“I told him! I mentioned it twice.”

“Forgive me. My mind was somewhat preoccupied today.” Dimitri slowly finished unlatching his cape, moving to toss it on the nearest flat surface. Annette twitched an eyebrow at him. He slowly hung up the cape on the hook near the door. “Good evening, all. You…brought B - the cat.”

“She is really just so precious.” Annette was sitting cross-legged with the sleeping Cat Byleth in her lap, scratching her behind the ears. “I’ve never met a sweeter cat. And she’s just so fluffy!”

“Right,” Dimitri said stiffly. He walked into the room, stiffly surveying the group. “Is the intervention necessary?”

“It’s more of a family meeting,” Sylvain said. Dimitri clearly mentally tacked ‘tactfully’ onto the end of that sentence. “I just figured we should put our heads together and figure this situation out, Your Majesty. And hey, it’s been almost a week since we were all in the same room!”

“That’s because Annette never leaves the tower,” Felix said blandly. 

“If it’s a family meeting, it’s Dimitri.” Dimitri disappeared into his closet and began changing clothing as Annette mimed aiming a Fire spell at Felix’s face. They had chased away Dimitri’s manservants, so Felix would have offered to help him remove the armor, but Dimitri had designed the armor specifically so he could remove it himself. Apparently he had found time to learn metalworking in his training schedule. Somehow. “Do the guards have any leads on my wife?”

“Nothing.” Ingrid looked a little uncomfortable. “We don’t want to cause a panic, so we’re searching in plain clothes, but some of them are beginning to grow concerned.”

“Annette, have you tried a tracking spell?”

“Yep. It completely fizzled out.” Quickly, Annette added, “Not as if she was dead! It was like a letter that was returned to the sender. It mystified the hell out of me. I couldn’t figure it out. I was considering writing Lysithea about it.”

Dimitri emerged from his closet, wearing far more casual and soft clothes. The cat’s ears twitched, and she opened her eyes and lifted her head to see Dimitri standing in front of the bed. She jumped out of Annette’s arms and bounded over to Dimitri, jumping up into his automatically outstretched arms. She immediately began rubbing her head against his chest, purring up a storm, and Dimitri very gingerly cradled her in his arms. 

Slowly, Dimitri said, “Felix, take the cat.”

“Don’t feel like it,” Felix said blandly. 

“Felix - !”

“You’re an adult, hold your own wife.”

“Did you feed her earlier or something?” Ingrid asked, fascinated. “Animals tend to hate you, Dimitri. But she’s so affectionate…”

Exceptionally gentle and slow, Dimitri stroked the cat’s fur backwards. Cat Byleth wriggled happily. “She’s liked me since I met her. If you all have any arguments to address my…thoughts, I would like to hear them.”

Sylvain and Felix looked at each other. They silently battled for their lives. Sylvain silently reminded Felix that he was the one who ruthlessly shut him down last night, and that this might make up for it. Felix silently cursed him out for being right, as usual.

“I have no idea how to say this in a way that doesn’t make me sound as insane as Dimitri,” Felix said bluntly. Better rip off the bandaid. “But Sylvain and I think Dimitri’s right. The cat’s definitely Byleth.”

The girls stared at Felix blankly. Dimitri’s eyebrows skyrocketed upwards. 

“Do you really think so?” Dimitri asked urgently. “Are you certain? What are your deductions?”

“We caught her fishing in Byleth’s fishing spot. She kills like Byleth kills. It’s a…distinctive sort of murder.” Sylvain sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I can’t make it sound good either. It just feels so obvious. Man, I wish Mercedes was here. She’d have insight.”

“All three of you feel certain?” Ingrid asked. All three men nodded with varying levels of enthusiasm. She turned back to the cat, leaning forward and staring intently at it. After a heart-stopping minute, she said, “It would answer some persistent questions. If all of you are certain, I’ll trust you. Annette?”

Annette hummed, tapping her chin. “Magic can’t turn humans into cats. But Lady Byleth is no ordinary human. And…we were playing around with a lot of highly experimental spells yesterday…yeah, this isn’t making me sound great.”

“We all vote that this cat is my wife?” The room nodded as one. Dimitri slumped, tension unwinding from his frame as he exhaled. “Thank the goddess. I was so damn worried…thank the goddess, truly.”

“Was that really the problem here?” Sylvain asked. “Not the wife cat situation?”

Dimitri’s expression tightened unhappily. “I deny it sometimes, Sylvain, but I can tell when my mind is cloudy. Having delusions like this while knowing my mind is clear…it made me doubt a lot of things. I’ve been unsettled all day.”

Damn it. Felix felt horrible. “It’s not on you, Dimitri. I completely shut you down last night. I know you don’t want me humoring you, but I should have heard you out.”

“It’s not your fault,” Dimitri said, absolutely predictably. “I’m hardly a - a reliable source. Really, considering how I betrayed your trust in me as a friend and leader, I couldn’t possibly ask you to trust me at all, let alone in such a ridiculous situation -”

Fantastic, Felix no longer felt bad. “Shut the fuck up, you’re so annoying. Aren’t you done with your apology tour by now?”

Dimitri scowled at him. “I’ll stop apologizing when I stop doing things to apologize for.”

“You never feel guilty for the right thing, you know that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You two are far too old for this,” Sylvain said severely, and both men shut up. “Felix, save the tough love for when Byleth isn’t a cat. Dimitri, wait until Byleth’s finished being a cat before you start self-flagellating again. Annette, were you really hitting Lady Byleth with random spells yesterday?”

Annette, the true wrong-doer in the situation, abruptly looked a little shifty. “It was scientific experimentation.”

“On the queen of  Faerghus?”

“She said she was bored!”

“So you turned her into a cat?”

“It wasn’t on purpose!” Annette cried. “I was trying to invent a spell to improve eyesight! How was I supposed to know it would turn the queen of  Faerghus into a cat?” She drooped, crushed by the weight of her own sins. “Oh, I never should have tried mixing Reason and Fate theorems into the same proof. This is what happens when we try getting experimental…I’m so sorry, Dimitri. And Byleth.”

“Magic can’t turn people into cats,” Felix hissed. “You’re doing fake magic.”

“It’s not fake if it works! You’re just a classicist.”

“Improvisation magic doesn’t create new theorems, it creates explosions. And cats.”

“Maybe you’re just jealous I managed to turn the Professor into a cat and you couldn’t.”

“I could turn Byleth into a cat if I wanted -”

“If I was literally any other king,” Dimitri ground out, strangled, “and you were any other court magician, you would be fired at best for using the queen as an experimental subject. My grandfather executed court magicians for less.”

Felix straightened, scowling. “Are you threatening my wife -”

“Shut the fuck up for once, Felix!” Sylvain snapped. “You can’t threaten the king!”

“Oh, you’re always taking his side -”

“You’re always making me point out the absolute obvious -”

Dimitri scowled, looking away. “I was the one pointing out the obvious. I wasn’t threatening - that wasn’t the intention, Annette, I just -”

“It’s alright,” Annette said miserably. “You’re right. I got too excited and stopped thinking things through again. I’m a failure as a court magician.”

“You’re the most talented magician I know, Annette,” Dimitri said, all soppy earnest. Ugh. As if he wasn’t totally threatening her a second ago. “You aren’t a failure at all. I admire you greatly.”

“Aw, Dimitri. Thank you -”

“But if you fail in un-catting my wife you are in very serious trouble with the royal family of Fodlan.”

“See!” Felix cried, throwing out a hand. “An obvious threat!”

Cat Byleth meowed disapprovingly. She blinked at them, somehow with great intention. Everybody fell silent in absolute shame and mumbled apologies. Dimitri was a little red.

Finally, Ingrid coughed a little. “I think we can all agree some mistakes have been made tonight.” Everybody looked at the floor. “Let’s just focus on solving the problem. Your Majesty?”

“Right.” Dimitri kissed the top of Cat Byleth’s head, making her mrrp adorably. “Annette, you drop everything you’re doing and fix her as soon as possible.” Annette opened her mouth, ready to argue on behalf of her three other deadlines. She had moaned about the imminent book chapter final submission deadline for a week. “That’s an order. If you miss a deadline then tell them to take it up with me.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I just hope I can.” Annette picked at the luxurious comforter, desolate. “This happened because I used Faith magic beyond my level of expertise. A novice can tangle a knot in seconds that a master would take hours to fix. I wish Mercedes was here…she knows enough about white and black magic to diagnose the problem immediately.”

“Is she the only Gremory in Fhirdiad?”

“She’s one of seven in Fodlan, and four of them are in Adrestia. Two are in the ex-Alliance. She’s the only Gremory in  Faerghus.” Annette muttered something uncomplimentary about Adrestria hoarding all of the good magicians.

“Then bring Mercedes here. Requisition the Adrestian mages if you have to.”

Sylvain straightened, eyes widening. “She’s over two weeks travel away, Dimitri.”

Dimitri looked back to Annette, who was clearly falling into despair. “Can you fix her yourself, Annette?”

Annette hesitated, biting her lip. “If I study hard, maybe. Or I might turn her into a smaller cat…or I might blow her up…”

“We’re calling in Mercedes. If Byleth is a cat for two weeks, then she’s a cat for two weeks.” Dimitri glanced at Sylvain for the first time, thoughtful. “Ask her to bring Felipe. Might as well make something good out of this. I still haven’t met him yet.” 

“Aaaa,” Sylvain said.

“You haven’t?” Ingrid asked, surprised. “But you gave him that ridiculous birthday gift.”

“There is no point to conquering a country if you can’t give its smaller islands to a baby,” Dimitri said stiffly. “I want to meet him. I also want this problem fixed.” He looked sternly at Annette and Felix, who abruptly both looked at the ceiling. “This was an accident, and accidents happen. I do not intend for anybody to find out about this. I don’t intend on punishing anybody right now. But if the accident is not fixed I will hold the house of Fraldarius responsible. And yes, Felix. That is a threat.”

“That’s fair,” Annette said, desolate beyond what her peppy little heart deserved. “I really am sorry, Your Majesty.”

Dimitri softened, and he held the cat a little closer to his chest. “It’s still Dimitri. Trust me, Annette. This would be an inconsequential matter if it was only myself. But it’s Byleth’s safety that I’m worried about. I have to take that seriously.”

“We all do,” Ingrid said gently. “We’re all just as worried as you, Dimitri. We’ll work together on fixing this. There’s nothing Mercedes can’t do, so we’ll just have to hang on until then.”

Felix was not just as worried as the rest of them. But this was severely not the time or place to say so. He just nodded solemnly with everybody else. 

“And please have somebody keep an eye on her. I don’t want her run over by a carriage or eaten by wolves.” Something disturbing clearly occurred to Dimitri. “Or want kitten children.”

“Ew,” Annette said.

“I’d love them anyway, of course,” Dimitri continued to himself. “But it would still be strange. They couldn’t exactly have a place in the line of succession…but we couldn’t just give them away…”

“What if she was pregnant when she got turned into a cat?” Felix asked, bored. “She could give birth to kittens that are genetically yours.”

“Oh, goddess,” Dimitri said, paling, “she totally could.”

“She could not, I’m obviously fucking with you -”

Sylvain just looked pained. “Felix, please stop teasing Dimitri.”

“But it’s so easy.”

And then they were all off again, and Cat Byleth took a luxurious nap to the sound of her students’ incessant bickering. 

***

Felix had a small secret: he wasn’t really all that worried.

He also wasn’t seventeen anymore, and he now understood that certain sentiments had a certain time and a place. Annette’s well-intentioned carelessness had already put them both in hot water with Dimitri - it would push their luck if Felix was seen acting as if this was a good thing. It was, in fact, somewhat dangerous - Felix had faith in Byleth’s ability to win in a territory fight against another animal, but he didn’t like her odds against a carriage or a monster. But Byleth had survived much less stupid situations than this, and Felix had decided to kick up his heels and relax. This was, after all, a good thing.

It was obvious. Felix would wonder why nobody else saw it, but he knew how oblivious and self-absorbed everybody else was. They were all too wrapped up in their own stress and projecting all of it to realize the straightforward truth. Mercedes would notice, but she was a handy second reason why this was a good thing. She would agree with Felix immediately: that Byleth was honestly living her best life. 

Despite what the overgrown children around him thought, Byleth didn’t actually live to work. Byleth’s ideal day - as recited during a Special Tea Time years ago - consisted of training for a few hours in the morning, fishing for eight hours, eating three giant meals, sitting in companionable silence with Dimitri, and holding a Blue Lions sleepover at night. Three naps had been mandatory: one at ten in the morning, another at two in the afternoon after a big lunch, and another at five in the afternoon after a hard day fishing. 

The woman was the queen of  Faerghus slash Fodlan and had no opportunity to spend all day doing nothing but fish. She was busy every second, and had been for as long as Felix knew her. There was no such thing as a day spent lazing around in Byleth’s world. In a cat’s…

So far as Felix could tell, Cat Byleth did nothing other than hunt, sleep, and cuddle with them. Felix figured that it was actively mean to undo this spell too quickly. He knew better than to vocalize this opinion. Mercedes would agree with him. 

Some people were meant to be born a Lagunz or beastkin or something. This was probably righting a natural order of things. Maybe restoring Byleth to cat-hood would lift the curse on the Fraldarius family bloodline. Which Glenn might have invented to tease him, but it was real, damn it. 

“Look,” Felix told his lovely wife, “I’m just saying. We still don’t know where the hell she came from. It’s not physically possible for a person to develop human emotion after they finished puberty. And Seteth kept saying that Jeralt hadn’t aged a day in twenty years. You know what species ages slowly?”

His lovely wife hadn’t been accommodating. “Goodness, Felix, not another one of your conspiracy theories.”

“Conspiracy theories?” Felix had yelled, throwing up his hands. “What conspiracy theories? You mean my famous conspiracy theory, the one where Dimitri’s -” A violently vengeful murder-happy psycho with severe mental problems, which Felix didn’t feel comfortable saying anymore. He hadn’t vocalized a thirst for murder in more than a year. “ - you know. That one? The true one? The fact?”

“There’s a perfectly good explanation for why Lady Byleth is a freak of nature,” Annette said primly. “She told me herself.”

“Yeah? What was it?”

Annette halted. “Uh. You know, the picture was a little unclear…”

“You know what’s clear as crystal to me?!”

Maybe Annette hadn’t turned Byleth into a cat after all. Maybe she had just disrupted the magic creating a human form. Maybe this was Byleth’s natural state. Strangely, nobody wanted to hear this. 

Regardless, it wasn’t a safe situation. A ten pound apex predator was still ten pounds, and no matter how proficient she was against prey or other cats she wouldn’t match up to a cart or a horse. Dimitri was still unironically fretting about boy cats, and for once his paranoia was disturbingly plausible. The Blue Lions were busy people, but they could keep a 24/7 eye on a cat, right?

Annette tried keeping Cat Byleth locked in her mage’s tower. Cat Byleth escaped twice, knocked over expensive potion ingredients three times, and almost ingested a potion that would not have sat well with a cat’s delicate stomach. At the risk of Dimitri smiting their house with a lightning bolt, Annette was in no position to keep an eye on her.

Neither were the rest of them, who were far too mobile around the castle. Trying to keep her inside their chambers, even Dimitri’s gigantic ones, was hugely unsuccessful - when she wasn’t meowing miserably she was pulling objectively impressive escape attempts. They all silently wished that they had some sort of tactical genius or something around to solve their problems for them. Their two best tacticians were physically and emotionally compromised again. Time to pull in their tied third best tacticians. Or just one of their third best tacticians - Annette had been banned from further ideas, lest she make things worse again. 

“It’s alright,” Sylvain said grimly. “I have an idea.” 

“Oh boy,” Felix said. “I’m looking forward to this one.”

The idea involved a trembling servant boy. Balad was around fourteen years old, and clearly from Duscur - a beneficiary of Dimitri’s affirmative action hiring policies. The castle had a school for servant children and children of servants and everything. Insane quantity of orphans in this castle. Man never stopped projecting.

“This is a cat,” Sylvain told Balad. He passed Cat Byleth to Balad, who accepted her with a trembling sincerity. “This cat is your new job. Do not let her out of your sight. I’ve spoken with the chamberlain, so this is your only job for the next few weeks.” He stared Balad down firmly, who was already staring down his doom into Cat Byleth’s guileless eyes. “This cat’s safety is of paramount importance. Do you understand, Balad? We’ll give you a big reward for looking after her, but if anything happens you’ll get in big trouble.”

Balad stiffened, holding the cat closely to his chest. Byleth liked children, and she immediately began snuggling in Balad’s arms. “Y - yes, my lord! I will put my life on the line!”

“Normally that would be a pretty extreme thing to say,” Felix yawned. “But in this instance…yup.”

Balad looked down at Cat Byleth as if her large eyes held the future. Cat Byleth mrrp’d. 

Felix remembered youth. How unpleasant and depressing youth had been. Everything had been life or death, even the actual life or death bits. There was a reason they’d put an immigrant teenage boy on the job - a knight would have eventually thought to himself, ‘This is just a cat, it’s ridiculous. Surely it can’t be that big of a deal’. But an immigrant teenage boy with his job on the line was probably convinced his life was on the line, and he would apply himself to the task with attentiveness five times greater than a knight could hope to reach. Felix and Sylvain knew this intimately - it was straight out of the Professor’s playbook.

Still, you had to miss the unique adventures that only a fourteen year old could have. Felix was a boring adult and wasn’t privy to a single one, but he occasionally held the privilege of catching glimpses out of whatever stupid shit poor Balad was dealing with that day. 

Over the next two weeks, Felix saw: Balad hanging upside down from the rafters, Cat Byleth precariously held in his arms. Balad bravely rescuing Cat Byleth from the overly affectionate arms of a small gaggle of five year old girls. Balad in the cathedral, teaching Cat Byleth Duscurian prayer rituals. And, obviously, chasing after her as she ran through the kitchen and got paw prints in the flour. 

Felix had the privilege of interrupting that one. He was passing by the kitchen as he heard a great commotion and sequence of crashes, and after a few seconds of exhausted deliberation he figured that he ought to do something about it. Felix looped around until he stood in front of the double entry doors in the staff mess area, crossing his arms and waiting patiently.

His patience bore fruit only a minute later. The doors blew open as a cat rushed out at breakneck speed, and Felix silently squatted down and grabbed the cat out of midair. Felix held her by the stomach with both hands and held her up for scrutiny, letting her dangle in the air. She was covered in tomato sauce, flour, and flecks of spinach.

“Having fun?” 

Cat Byleth meowed. She was having the time of her fucking life.

Balad burst through the doors at a dead run only a few seconds after her, and by the time he saw Felix it was too late. Felix, prepared for this, steadied himself and held Cat Byleth out of the way just as Balad collided in a crash-course into Felix, falling back onto his ass as Felix swayed with the motion. 

Balad groaned, rubbing his head and cursing people who stood around useless in halls under his breath. He opened his eyes and witnessed the person standing uselessly in a hall, eyes traveling slowly upwards as he saw Felix holding Cat Byleth and looking down at him with an arched eyebrow. 

Slowly, Felix said, “Missing something?”

“Aaaa,” Balad said.

Felix sighed, holding Cat Byleth up until they made eye contact. He shook her lightly. She swayed happily with the motion. “I’m happy you’re having fun. Really. But do you have to torment serving boys like this?” Cat Byleth meowed happily. “Can’t fault you for honesty, I suppose.”

“I didn’t lose her!” Balad scrambled upwards, panting for breath. There was a clump of dough in his hair, and one of his shoes was lost. “She just - um - I’m sorry, Lord Fraldarius, I swear I had my eyes on her!”

“I believe you,” Felix said, amused. The kid’s determination was beyond admirable. “This one enjoys challenging young people. She thinks it builds character.” He returned Cat Byleth to Balad, who took her with a practiced ease and allowed her to curl up in his arms. “I hope she hasn’t pushed you beyond your limits.”

Balad shook his head fervently, hoisting Byleth in his arms. “This is just practice for knighthood!” Oh, no. This was adorable. “A knight of  Faerghus protects the whole continent - and there’s no creature too small for the first Duscurian Knight to protect, I think - so Eisner’s just good practice!”

Felix’s eyebrows jumped up. “Eisner? As in the queen?”

Far too late, Balad’s eyes widened. Had he overheard them speaking? Serving boys knew when and where to gossip - had he told anybody? “Oh, I’m - I’m sorry, my lord! I apologize! It’s just that - well, it’s just that Eisner really reminds me of Her Grace. Something in her eyes…it’s ordinary to name cats after people you admire in Duscur, my lord, but if it’s disrespectful in  Faerghus - oh, I bet it is disrespectful in  Faerghus -”

“I think Her Grace would be flattered,” Felix said. Balad, who had already begun working himself up into an anxious spiral, abruptly deflated. “The first Duscurian Knight?”

Balad blushed a little, bouncing Cat Byleth and looking at the ground. “Don’t pay that any mind, my lord. Ever since His Majesty made new laws saying foreigners could be knights…no dream comes true if you sit around hoping for it, right? I don’t know a sword, but even I can practice being virtuous…but please pay that no mind, my lord.”

Wow. No wonder Cat Byleth was giving him a hard time.

Felix leaned down, making a show of tilting his ear towards Cat Byleth. “What was that?” Cat Byleth purred. “I see. You’re absolutely sure?” Cat Byleth yawned. “I couldn’t agree more.” Felix straightened, clasping his hands beyond his back and looking seriously down at Balad. “Eisner has spoken. She really thinks you’re Blue Lion material.”

Balad’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates. “The Blue Lions? Like - like your elite front line combat squadron? The revolutionary heroes?”

“We were students at Garreg Mach first.” Felix propped a hand on his hip, and he allowed himself a half-smile. “The Knight Captain of the Imperial Guard started out as a rebellious student with a dream. And the Royal Spymaster began as a commoner who used the skills he learned on the street to become a hero. They didn’t have anything you don’t have. If you train hard enough, you can protect what’s important to you. That’s all there is to being a Blue Lion. Even a cat knows that.”

Young kids like Balad didn’t associate the Blue Lions with Garreg Mach anymore. Yuri had already begun planning the major changes he’d make to the Academy once Seteth officially let go of the reins of the school and officially transitioned into his new role as Archbishop, and after some requests from Dimitri and Byleth he grew confident enough to start planning the complete overhaul. Yuri had been the first of anybody to see it, but it was Dimitri and Byleth who told everybody else - that there was no unity and cohesion among the continent when the houses grouped into national insularity. And murdered each other later. That put a damper on school spirit.

When something as awful as the Blue Lions could happen - when an institution could produce students who trusted nobody but their own neighbors, who isolated themselves so thoroughly that they could grow up and slaughter their classmates without a second thought. When the Golden Deer and Black Eagles could do the same. In some ways, Byleth Eisner was the greatest and final failure of Garreg Mach.

Besides. They didn’t really have three countries anymore. There was that little detail. 

The four new houses held students from all over the continent. Students from Faerghus, the ex-Alliance territories, and the Territory of Adrestria attended the same houses and mingled in the same classes. There were reserved spots for exchange students from Brigid, Almyra, and even Sreng. A new definition of unity, to be sure, but they could only hope it would be a little more effective. Time would tell.

Poor Balad’s eyes were as big as dinner plates. Felix really hoped that the kid wouldn’t internalize these words or something. He was just saying shit. “Wow. Thank you, Lord Fraldarius.” He held Cat Byleth up to eye level, and he smiled for the first time. “What do you think, Eisner? Want to teach me how to be a Blue Lion?”

Cat Byleth meowed. 

Balad grinned, and in an unselfconscious burst of joy he nuzzled her sticky forehead. “I knew I could count on you. The god of trials must have sent you to me.”

Fantastic back-handed compliment. Felix would have to remember that one. “Hey, kid. Do you know any Duscur curse words? Lord Dedue and Lady Mercedes refuse to teach me any -”

With impeccable timing, Cat Byleth jumped out of Balad’s arms and began sprinting down the hall. Balad cried in dismay, and with less than a second’s hesitation he set out after her in a dead run. 

“Wait!” Balad called. “You need a bath, Eisner!”

Cat Byleth’s run turned into a sprint.

Felix watched them go, hands in his pockets. He had always wondered if Lady Byleth would ever take on another group of students. Queens had better things to do, and the continent probably couldn’t handle another year of her teaching style, so Felix had given up and decided it was for the best.

If this was her way of collecting more students, then a retired life was definitely for the best. 

Oh, well. Definitely Sylvain’s problem. 

***

Two and a half weeks after Her Grace Byleth Eisner Blaiddyd’s Great Catting, Mercedes and Felipe Gautier and Dedue Molinaro arrived at the castle. Happy as he was to see his family, these events were definitely Sylvain’s problem.

Hosting visitors as nobility was a huge production, and as usual royalty was twice as bad. They dressed up Mercedes’ visit as just a wife visiting her husband, backflipping out of making it a big thing, but Mercedes’ carriage still pulled up to the outside of the castle and met a giant team of servants, staff, and the Blue Lions themselves. 

Sylvain, standing next to Felix with his hands folded behind his back, was tapping his foot. Then looking at the carriage advancing on them, then checking his watch. Then running his hand through his hair. Then looking at the carriage again.

Felix elbowed him. Sylvain elbowed him back. Felix elbowed him again, harder.

“It’s fine.” Sylvain had a wonderful habit of manifesting his reality. It was the confidence. “I’m excited to see them. It’s great. What if he doesn’t like me?”

  “Dedue? If he was going to stop liking you, it would have happened after the second mock-battle dorm party.”

They both knew that Felix knew who Sylvain was actually talking about, so Sylvain ignored him. “I mean, how hard can it be to win over a baby? You just give them toys, right? What if he likes me too much, and gets upset when I’m not there? Is this a no-win situation?” 

“I think this has been a no-win situation for a while,” Felix said, maybe tactfully. 

According to the professor, in a no-win scenario you shifted your goals from victory towards survival. You stop trying to maximize ground or fortresses captured and start focusing on pulling back and saving fats from the fire. You couldn’t stop the blow, so you just protected yourself against it. It was a strategy Sylvain had understood perfectly well - it was the strategy Sylvain used to live his life, and it always had been. Babies included.

Sylvain’s face twisted, but if he had anything smart to say he didn’t get the chance. The carriage came to a full halt, and the small flight of footmen opened the door and helped the noble lady descend the stairs. 

It was Mercedes, baby strapped to her back and smiling widely at them, and Sylvain lost all sense of propriety.

He lurched forward, pushing through the crowd and flying down the castle steps. He was supposed to wait for Dimitri to greet her, for some sort of official reception - but the same Sylvain who fretted for days over her arrival couldn’t wait one more second. Mercedes’ smile turned into a grin, and when Sylvain wrapped her in a hug she eagerly reciprocated. They stood there together, clinging onto each other, for the scarce few seconds Mercedes and Sylvain would ever allow themselves, before separating.

Miracle of miracles, Mercedes even unfolded Felipe from her back and balanced him on her hip. Whoah. He had gotten huge. Felipe sucked on a fist, watching the proceedings with wide eyes, and Sylvain bent over him for a few seconds. Mercedes and Sylvain’s body blocked Felix’s view, and whatever look may have been on Sylvain’s face or how Felipe may have reacted was lost to all but the two of them.

Then Dedue stepped out, as hulking and stone-faced as always. He looked good, tanned and relaxed. He was dressed in the clothing of his homeland - an interesting bit of political messaging. Felix glanced to his right, and completely predictably saw Dimitri grinning widely. He was clearly about two seconds from running up and hugging him too. Great. 

It wasn’t that Felix had a problem with Dedue. His personality was completely inoffensive, which wasn’t something you could say about Felix. As a comrade on the field, he was second-to-none. And he was a Blue Lion - ‘nuff said. Felix would die for the guy, the guy would die for him, etc. 

But Felix really didn’t think he was a good friend. Nobody who saw Dimitri suffer like that for years and helped him grow worse was anything resembling a good friend. Maybe if he saw Dimitri during those five years and fucking hand-fed him like the rest of them he would have realized the impact of the choices he’d made, but the guy had been a little busy living in hiding after he sacrificed his life for Dimitri’s. Which was why it was a little hard to hate him. Ugh. Felix was so brave for not picking a fight about this. 

“Lady Gautier!” Dimitri called, his usually monotone voice tinged with an emotion that made it seem positively jovial. “Lord Molinaro! Well met! I trust your trip was uneventful?”

Mercedes curtseyed, in an impressive balancing act with the baby in her arm. “Greetings from House Gautier to His Majesty. We’re happy to answer His Majesty’s summons. Our trip was delightful.”

Dedue bowed, stiff as ever. “I am honored by the invitation, Your Majesty. Blessings from Duscur unto  Faerghus.”

“Good! The servants will set you up. Now, for the most important business.” Dimitri stepped forward, descending the steps, and Mercedes and Dedue walked up to meet him. Sylvain hastily followed, hovering at Mercedes’ elbow.

Dimitri clasped Dedue’s hand, hugging him fiercely. Said a lot about Dedue’s sheer bulk that he handled a hug from Dimitri so tightly, but Felix knew Dedue gripped onto him just as tightly. They embraced closer than any lord and vassal ever would, probably more than two friends might, and they hung onto each other for just a little bit longer. 

They separated, Dimitri’s eye bright, and he clasped Dedue’s arm a final time. “You look well.” 

“I am, Your Majesty.”

“I was surprised that you elected to join Mercedes. Last time I checked the orphanage and school needed constant supervision.” 

“I am pleased to say that they have grown stable. We left them in the capable hands of our staff. Viscount Meroe asked me to approach you regarding several matters.”

‘Ownership’ of Duscur had been neatly stripped from Viscount Kleiman and given to the elected leader of the surviving Duscuran people, who quickly re-assembled a stripped-down version of their old government. The woman was pants-shittingly terrifying and Felix had to fight the urge to give her whatever she wanted just to make her go away each time she showed up. Dedue was highly placed in their new government, but his primary role was as a link between Duscur and the king. He seemed happiest co-leading the orphanage and school with Mercedes, but the guy was the type to put duty before pleasure.

“I’ll have my secretary contact you and we can have a long conversation.” Dimitri gave him a final clap on the shoulder before turning to Mercedes and Sylvain, smile brightening. “Now! Most importantly! Do I finally have the honor of meeting the heir of House Gautier?”

Mercedes giggled, approaching Dimitri and presenting Felipe with faux-ceremony. “The honor is ours. Your Majesty, I’d like to present the young lord Felipe Emilie Gautier. Felipe, this is Uncle Dimitri. Say hello, Felipe!”

Felipe sucked on a knuckle. The kid had been pretty squishy and raisin-like when Felix first saw him, but even Felix had to admit now that he was an objectively beautiful, adorable child. It was the fantastic genes. Kid could have walked out of a painting. One of the twee ones. 

“Bah bah?” Felipe asked the king of the continent. 

“This is the perfect child,” the king of the continent decided.

Mercedes laughed, bouncing Felipe lightly on her hip. “You flatter us, Your Majesty. He’s certainly perfect to us.”

“I think it’s objective,” Dimitri said, almost heated. Ingrid, standing on the other end of the courtyard from Felix, made an exhausted face at Felix. Felix mimed shooting himself with his fingers. Annette had the right idea preparing their surprise cake in the kitchen. “I can’t believe I never met him before. He’s adorable, you two! He’s chubby! And look at his hair! He seems so soft!”

“Burble burble wah,” Felipe asserted.

“When is his next birthday?” Dimitri demanded. “A month? Can he have it here? How long do you think it’ll take before he can call me Uncle Dimitri?”

“Certainly not for a while,” Sylvain said, exasperated. Mercedes was outright laughing now. Dedue was hiding a smile behind a hand. “Do you want to hold hi -”

“Absolutely not. But come inside, he must be tired. You all must be tired. The servants told me we have baby accouterments for guests, but let the chamberlain know if you need anything and we’ll have it brought right away.” Abruptly, almost stressed, Dimtiri said, “Can he understand what I’m saying yet? What is his level of linguistic proficiency?”

Dedue sighed, badly fighting a smile. “Not much, but sometimes he surprises you. I believe he understands Duscuran better than the language of Fodlan.” Sylvain’s eyebrows rocketed upwards, and Dedue nodded in half-apology. “Mercedes and I try to speak Adrestian to him at home, but because he lives in Duscur I believe he’s more comfortable with our language.”

“He’s multicultural,” Dimitri whispered.

“Ah,” Sylvain said. “I didn’t - really think about that.”

Dimitri said something very seriously to Felipe in Duscuran. 

“Wah wah wah,” Felipe agreed.

“Did he understand that?!”

“Can we please go inside,” Felix said. “Please.”

***

Balad sat in front of the high nobility of  Faerghus, quaking in his boots and holding a cat. 

He was sat on a stool at Annette’s workbench, tasked with the vital job of keeping Cat Byleth still while Mercedes carefully inspected her. The child was not coping well with almost the entire assembled original Blue Lions in front of him, but he was keeping a stiff upper lip about the matter. He seemed to have decided that, so long as he didn’t say a single word, they couldn’t chop his head off. Bizarrely, Balad sat closest to Felix and made sad eyes at him when he tried to get up and leave. 

Mercedes hummed, finally closing out the diagnostic spells. She had been scrutinizing the cat for a solid ten minutes, which was longer than it took her to identify most poisons. She leaned back on her stool, exhaling heavily.

“I’m glad you waited for me to arrive, Annie.” The words were completely innocuous. Annette’s face fell. Everybody hissed. “Don’t worry, the magic isn’t dangerous. It’s just a little tricky. If you give me a day to write the counter-spell, I can have her all fixed up in half an hour.”

Dimitri brightened. He was sitting next to Balad, giving the boy a constant low-level heart attack. “Really? You’re a lifesaver, Mercedes!”

“I wouldn’t say that,” the woman who single handedly prevented five plague outbreaks and significantly contributed to ending a war said. “And please don’t be too hard on yourself over this, Annie. Every great inventor blows up a few labs here and there! Why, just the other day, Coco wrote to tell me how the entire kitchen was -” “We really let those rat people teach the future leaders of Fodlan, huh?” Felix muttered. 

Sylvain arched an eyebrow at him. “I think it was a great idea. You couldn’t find a group of people more dedicated to Garreg Mach. Or a more neutral party.”

“Yeah,” Felix panned, “they hate all of Fodlan equally.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Thank the Goddess,” Annette sighed. Poor woman was exhausted - Felix had barely seen her the last two weeks. “I’m never getting experimental again. It’s just not worth all the stress.” She paused a second in thought before adding, “Of course, this was a practically unprecedented spell. Faith/Reason magic is a highly under-studied field. If I could recreate it, maybe I could publish a paper on -”

“No!” Everyone shouted in unison.

Everybody but Felix, who just yawned. “Beat you to it. Wrote a thesis on transformation magic for extra credit near the end of school. Lady Byleth gave me a new sword as a reward.”

“Damn it, Felix! Why are you always trying to one-up me?”

“I don’t have to try.”

Annette looked at Ingrid, who leaned against a spare workbench next to him. “I forgot how she used to give us new weaponry if we learned a subject well. I thought good grades were good enough for most students…”

“Did any of us really care about grades by the end of it?” Ingrid asked wryly. “The closest Lady Byleth could get to educating Dimitri was locking him in the classroom with us and seeing how long he could last before he started pacing around the room.”

Dedue said something sternly to Balad in their language, making Balad pale and stutter something back. Ingrid abruptly remembered that little pitchers had big ears and shut up, a little embarrassed. 

But Dimitri just smiled at Balad and said something to him in perfect Duscuran. The kid stuttered something out too, but at a little more gentle prodding he began opening up. Dimitri pointed at Cat Byleth, who was napping peacefully in Balad’s arms, and Balad lifted her up and excitedly began chattering. Felix recognized that face by now - she had done something freakishly intelligent and Balad was very proud of her for it. Dimitri nodded, attention rapt.

Finally, when Balad sheepishly wrapped up his story, Dimitri switched back to their native language. “Regardless, I understand Sylvain promised you a good reward for your hard work. What would you like? You’ve done a fine job, so don’t be modest.”

“Oh. Um.” Balad scratched Cat Byleth’s ruff, looking down. “Does Eisner have an owner?”

Immediately, Dimitri said, “Not at all. She’s a free spirit.”

“She owns us, really,” Felix said.

“It’s an equal partnership, Felix!”

“Uh huh.”

“She’s a cat,” Ingrid said flatly. “She owns the castle.” Felix opened his mouth. “More so than usual.”

“Then…if it’s possible…” Balad flushed, but Felix saw him visibly screw up his courage. “...could I keep her?”

The entire assembled original Blue Lions stared at Balad.

He flushed deeper, but he held his ground. “I’d take really good care of her! It’s dangerous to be a stray cat, you know. There’s fleas and kitty gang fights. I’ve seen them myself. I think she’s gotten attached to me, too…maybe? It’s hard to tell with cats…but I really would be a good owner.” Balad turned up big cow eyes at Dimitri, who kept his now-usual poker face. “So…that’s the reward I’d ask for, Your Majesty.”

A long silence stretched across the room.

Dedue pinched the bridge of his nose, hard. He said something to Balad - something which probably wasn’t hostile or harsh, but was definitely unhappy. Balad paled. Dimitri quickly said something back to Dedue, with an intonation that sounded heavily like ‘don’t give him a hard time’. Dedue said something back, a little harder. 

Then Mercedes broke into laughter, and the spell was lifted. Every Blue Lion started wheezing. Mercedes buried her head in her hands, shoulders shaking with laughter, and Sylvain was almost bent over in cackles. Annette was trying valiantly to keep a straight face, but her complexion almost turned red with the effort before she gave up and started snickering. Ingrid’s face was buried in her hands, wheezing. Felix smiled. 

In Adrestian, Dedue said, “It’s not funny.”

“Man,” Sylvain wheezed, “it’s so fucking funny.”

“It’s disrespectful.” Poor Balad paled considerably. “As a representative of our people, it is -”

“A misunderstanding,” Felix said, and he was surprised by the firmness of his tone. “He’s not representing your people, he’s fourteen. Trust me, anybody who wants to stick around that shithead cat is a saint.” 

“Felix!” Dimitri’s eyebrow twitched, scandalized. “Don’t call her a shithead!”

“Why not? She calls me a shithead.”

“Yes, but you don’t have the excuse of being a cat.”

Mercedes giggled again. “Aren’t cats sacred in Duscur? What’s more respectful than that?” 

Dedue sighed, still kneading his forehead, but for the first time his lip quirked upwards in a smile. “By that logic, I suppose a servant from Duscur was the best choice in the castle.”

The corner of Dimitri’s lip curled too, a subtle match for Dedue. “You can admit you find it funny too, Dedue.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, Your Majesty.” 

“She wouldn’t mind.”

“She better not,” Felix said flatly. “This is her fault too. A mage should know better than to use experimental magic on themselves. Her magic’s unique, anyway - no wonder something this bizarre happened.” Something troubling occurred to Felix. “Maybe cats are sacred in Fodlan too…”

Mercedes straightened, eyes widening. “Felix, you’re right! This wouldn’t have happened without Her Grace’s sacred magical energy.” Yeah, because humans can’t turn into cats. “Maybe the Goddess is…oh, wouldn’t that be interesting? I have to tell Yuri.” 

Ingrid hummed thoughtfully. “That would explain all of the stray cats at the monastery.” 

“Sure,” Sylvain said flatly, “let’s incorporate this into our worldview. The Goddess is also a Goddess of cats. If we decide it’s true then it has to be. That’s how religion works.”

Annette shrugged helplessly. “If anybody gets to decide how religion works, isn’t it the vessel of the Goddess?”

“We’ll have to ask her later.” Dimitri looked down at the sleeping cat in Balad’s arms, eye softening. “Thank you for your hard work Mercedes. Knowing this ordeal will be over tomorrow is a fantastic relief. Perhaps we can enjoy a small break in the meantime.” Dimitri half-smiled, crooked and stiff. “So many of us Blue Lions are here. That hardly happens every day. I’ve already arranged for a large feast tonight, with Dedue and Mercy’s favorites - why don’t we take some time off and schedule an activity for the day after tomorrow? After Byleth is cured.” 

Ingrid brightened. “I could take a half-day. How about a picnic, Your Majesty?”

Dimitri’s eye crinkled. “Byleth would like that. I’m certain we could put something together. One second.” Dimitri looked to the right, at the stone wall. “Please, I’m in a meeting. You have to quiet down. I don’t know where your knife is.” He turned back to Sylvain. “I apologize for the interruption. What were we talking about?”

“Ingrid suggested we go on a picnic tomorrow, Your Majesty.”

Dimitri looked at the right wall again, brow furrowed, and didn’t say anything. 

“Your Majesty,” Dedue said, even and steadfast, “are you with us?”

Something was louder than Dedue, and Dimitri’s attention was caught. Sylvain and Felix exchanged glances, thinking the same thing in unison. Downplaying Dimitri’s condition was no longer a matter of the war effort, and most of the castle was aware that the king had a chronic illness that left him spacey and moody, but it was best that the servants outside of Dimitri’s inner circle of servants saw as little of it as possible. 

But Balad moved before either of them. Cat Byleth had woken up, paw batting in Dimitri’s direction, and Balad was carefully moving Cat Byleth from his lap to Dimitri’s. Cat Byleth eagerly slithered down from Balad’s grip into Dimitri’s lap, and she began pawing at Dimitri’s shirt immediately. 

An old, ugly memory flashed in Felix’s mind - the Professor crying out in pain as a rabid Dimitri grabbed her arm, wanting to feel angry but fighting an overwhelming crush of fear instead - and he found himself starting forwards too. 

But when Dimitri began absently petting Cat Byleth his touch was gentle, and his expression focused after only a few seconds of cuddling with her. He blinked hard, scratching Cat Byleth on the ruff, before looking back at the Blue Lions.

“Sorry, I must have dozed off.” Did he think that or was he instinctively trying to cover? It was always hard to tell. “I ought to…”

And, as always, Sylvain was right there in front of him. Already handling it all. “Rest? Of course, Your Majesty.” Sylvain quickly scooped Cat Byleth up from Dimitri’s lap, making her meow in protest, and deposited her back in Balad’s hastily outstretched arms. “The serving boy will entertain and play with Her Grace while you take it easy. Why don’t you take a nap or something and we’ll call you when the feast is ready?”

Dimitri scowled, but he allowed Sylvain to pull him up. “I’m perfectly fine, Sylvain.”

No doubt, but that wasn’t the point. Felix crossed his arms. “How much sleep did you get last night?” Dimitri looked at the ceiling. “Uh huh. If you want to be mentally present tomorrow instead of spacing out all the time, then you should get some rest.”

“Yes, yes.” Dimitri sighed, waving a hand. “You’re forbidden from working tomorrow, Sylvain. Spend the time with your family.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“How exciting,” Mercedes said, clapping her hands and smiling. “I’m going to make a nice big cake for the picnic tomorrow.” Sylvain raised an eyebrow. “Yes, yes, after I fix Lady Byleth. Annie, are you thinking orange or lemon?”

“Can Dedue make something?” Annette burst out. “It’s been forever since I’ve had his cooking!”

Dedue sighed, smiling. “Of course. I was already planning the menu.”

Ingrid thrust her hand in the air. “That honey pastry, please! Double servings!”

“Mercedes has grown adept at making that dish as well.”

“Then you’ll both have to make some,” Sylvain decided. “So we can see whose is better, of course.”

“Oh, darling, there’s no need to grow competitive. Dedue’s the best cook I’ve ever known.” Mercedes paused an ominous beat. “But baking and cooking are two very different skills.”

“You do not know what you have walked into,” Dedue told Sylvain. Felix trusted him - Mercedes had a crazy glint in her eye. “Our culinary battle has grown fierce in the last few months.”

“Stir-crazy?” Sylvain asked sympathetically.

“Blame the infant.”

“Yikes,” Sylvain said, about his own infant. 

“That explains some things,” Dimitri said, clearly impressed despite himself. “After too long locked in a house with me, Mercedes would grow  - if you excuse the pejorative term, Lady Byleth - somewhat…catty at the markets?”

“You’re misremembering, Your Majesty,” Mercedes said beneficently. “That never happened.”

“I - ah, if you say so, perhaps…”

“That’s not ethical, Mercie,” Annette said.

“Oh? Does it turn Dimitri into a cat too?”

“That was almost three weeks ago!” Annette cried, throwing her hands up. “Why aren’t we over this yet? Are you going to bring it up forever?”

Sylvain pinched the bridge of his nose. “She is still a cat, Annie.”

“I knew it,” Balad whispered. 

***

Cat and baby faced each other across the field of battle.

Baby lay on his stomach, pushed upright on his two hands and gawking at his adversary. He reached out a hand, testing the reach of his weapon. 

The cat sat on her haunches, surveying the position of her enemy. She swiveled her head to stare at the neutral parties lying on their stomachs a few feet away watching them. She requested additional information from their scouts. The neutral parties shook their heads regretfully. This battlefield was her own.

The baby made the first move. He crawled forward, advancing on the cat’s captured territory (her side of the rug). In a shocking move, the baby babbled a long, incoherent stream of noise. The tone sounded friendly - was it a request for parley? Or was it a vow of battle? When the only language the two parties held in common was the language of death, perhaps all attempts at negotiation would be futile.

The cat uncurled, stretching forward and sniffing the baby hesitantly. Cautious as always, the cat was taking the time to gain a sense of the enemy’s strength. Or was it a tentative reciprocation of the baby’s gesture for peace? Was it possible for this fight to end without bloodshed? Would the sun set on a green and pristine field today, unmarred by splatters of blood? Was such a thing even imaginable?

Then, in the midst of negotiations, the baby struck. He reached out a chubby fist and grabbed the cat’s fluffy midnight blue fur. First blood went to him. War had begun. 

The cat’s counter-strike was instant. She batted at his hand, a light knock that was somehow reminiscent of hitting a student on the head with a wooden training sword. The baby felt the attack acutely, and withdrew his hand. The neutral parties readied themselves for a war cry of the wounded, but the baby only babbled at the cat again. This one was almost…recriminatory. Fascinating.

“Is he scolding her?” Felix asked.

“I thought she was scolding him,” Sylvain said. “Her claws aren’t out, right? She’s not going to scratch him? Maybe we should break this up.”

“Are you kidding? This is the funniest thing that’s happened to me in the last six months.”

The cat slunk forward - pressing her advantage, delivering a follow-up strike? The baby thrust out another hand, but it didn’t seem like an attack - more of a simple reach, almost an ache. The cat batted at his hand anyway. 

The baby stuck out his hand. The cat batted it away. 

The baby giggled. 

Sylvain groaned, covering his eyes with his hands. “Dimitri was right. He’s the cutest baby. I can’t believe it. It’s like he knows he’s adorable! He targets his cuteness whenever he wants something!”

Felix did not state the obvious. It hung loudly in the air between them.

“Shut up. It’s because he’s smart. Way smarter than me, probably. Did you know he started standing at only eight months? Apparently that’s really early. He has these little Duscuran picture books - apparently he loves them, do you think he’s going to become a big reader? - and when he wants Dedue to read them to him, he crawls over and starts trying to get the books from the bin himself. He fell into the bin that way! Isn’t that cute or what?”

The genius of the century crawled closer towards probably the smartest cat in Fodlan. With a great and terrible ceremony, the baby reached out and gently patted the cat’s fur. More like smacked, honestly, but the cat seemed to understand the intent. 

“He didn’t cry when he saw me.” There was something so awful and fragile on Sylvain’s face, too close to breaking to ever be called happiness. “I was terrified of that happening. I couldn’t stop imagining it. But he saw me, and he - he just looked curious, you know? Mercie says he’s a real curious kid. Always getting into stuff. Apparently every stranger is just a friend he hasn’t met yet! Can you believe it? He’s going to be a handful when he starts running around.”

Felix hummed, propping his chin on his hands. “Why are you so surprised that he’s a great kid? Did you think he’d be a terror?”

“I knew he’d be great,” Sylvain said, instantly defensive. “I just - I just didn’t realize I’d get so excited about it. I didn’t think it would make me feel this way. I thought I’d be immune or something.”

“To loving your own kid?”

“Do I love him?” 

Felix turned to look at Sylvain for the first time, incredulous. “Am I the person to ask about that?”

But Sylvain just shrugged, and for the first time Felix saw the strange shadow of desperation over his expression. “You’re always noticing things nobody else does, Felix. Do you think I love him?”

It was, obviously, a question Sylvain couldn’t answer on his own. The kid had arrived at the castle yesterday, and Sylvain had spent every second since then either hiding from him on the other side of the castle or glued to his side. At this moment, Annette and Mercedes were locked up in the magician’s tower writing the anti-cat counter-spell. For the first time in the little guy’s entire lifespan, Sylvain was babysitting. Normally Felix would say parenting, but he wasn’t certain this counted as parenting. How the hell was he supposed to know. 

Sylvain seemed acutely aware that he was babysitting instead of parenting. Say what you will about Sylvain, he wasn’t in denial about much. He tended to just ignore the feelings he didn’t like. Sylvain clutched onto his resentment with both hands, but Felix suspected that the emotion ran deeper and stronger than even Sylvain was aware of.

“I can’t answer that question for you.” It was the most obvious sentence in the world, but Sylvain sagged anyway. “Is it even important, anyway? The only thing that matters is your actions.”

Wryly, Sylvain said, “And as we’ve well established, my actions are shit.” He looked back at Felipe, who was heroically bridging the gap between their two factions. Cat Byleth was sniffing him curiously as he made cooing noises at her. “I thought I wouldn’t be capable of even liking him. Because - I thought my mind was too full up wondering how old I was when my mother sold me off.”

Cat Byleth rubbed Felipe’s face with her nose. Felipe laughed, tickled by the movement. 

“It was probably five months, right?” There was a bizarre edge of desperation to Sylvain’s voice, poisoned by time. “That’s when most noble babies get tested for their crest. But it’s a pretty expensive test - maybe she had to save up? Or did she tell my father about me soon after I was born, and did he pay for it? How much was she even paid, anyway?” Sylvain took a deep breath, and he was clearly surprised when it shuddered. “I couldn’t have been a good kid. I must have really been awful. I always figured that. But Felipe’s a good kid. So now I’m wondering - Felix, you know, I’m just kind of wondering if -”

Sylvain dropped his head, resting his forehead on the carpet, and breathed. Felix silently lay next to him. He watched Cat Byleth cuddle up around the baby, lying half on top of him with a paw stretched over his chest. Felipe was clearly already growing sleepy. Comfortable, safe, and warm - emotions only Byleth could make children feel. Only Byleth and mothers. 

Even in those dark days, as evil surrounded them and their leader lost his sanity. When Byleth stoked a fire in their classroom’s hearth and they spread their cots around the flames, Felix had felt warm. When they had stayed up late into the night talking and exchanging secrets, Felix had felt safe. As the wind whistled outside of the impenetrable stone walls, Annette’s head pillowed on his chest or Sylvain’s leg entwined with his - even Felix had felt comfortable. Even in those horrible days…

Felix didn’t say anything. He wasn’t Byleth. He didn’t understand, and he never could. Felix was the loved product of a loving couple. Losing Mother had felt like the Goddess reached into his chest and ripped his heart out. It wasn’t a wound he was born with. He had no wisdom or insight for this. In the end, Felix could only say the truth.

“You could ask her, you know. She’s probably still alive.”

Sylvain lifted his head, exhaling heavily. He rested his chin on the heel of his hand, watching the baby slowly lull himself to sleep. “Nah. It’s alright. That’s not really the point, you know?” Despite everything, Felix did know. Sylvain could see that. “Man. Remember the literal nightmares I used to have as a kid about getting babytrapped?”

Felix grimaced. “I remember when you woke me up asking if we had a kid.”

Sylvain ignored him, as he often did. “In my nightmares, I was always so disgusted looking at that baby. Holding it would make my skin crawl. But I don’t feel that at all looking at him now. Do you think it’s because he’s Mercie’s?”

“Who knows.” Felix had the feeling it was more because Felipe was the product of that loving and happy union, but this wasn’t his business. “So are you over your babyphobia now? Ready to be a dad?” Sylvain flinched hard. “That answers that question.”

Felipe’s little hands kneaded Byleth’s coat in his sleep. Byleth blinked slowly and sleepily - refusing to sleep while there was a child to watch out for. 

“I still get so uncomfortable just looking at him.” Despite his words, Sylvain didn’t look away from Cat Byleth and Felipe. “I can’t help it. That disgust…it’s not just the stuff of nightmares, Felix. I do feel it. I just didn’t know I would be disgusted with myself.”

“You know the best way to fix that, right?” Felix raised an eyebrow, and Sylvain awkwardly looked away from him. “Cowardice? In a Blue Lion? In front of Lady Byleth herself?”

Lady Byleth meowed. They both ignored her. 

“There’s never a reason to be afraid. Not so long as we’re here.” Felix reached out and gently elbowed Sylvain, hoping his elbows were as bony as his compatriots’. “Rule Three. Whatever help you need, we’ll give it. None of us fight alone. Felipe’ll have all of us. That simple enough for you?”

Sylvain sighed. “Knew I’d finally get you to say something useful.” He dodged Felix’s mock swing. “I know it, alright? Trust me, I’m already grateful. Dedue’s putting a lot of work into raising him too. I’m glad he has a male figure around.” Felix tsk’d. “Saints, you still don’t like Dedue?”

“He’s always been bad for Dimitri.” Sylvain opened his mouth, and Felix waved him off. “But Dimitri’s worse off without him, so I’ll deal. At least now we know Dimitri definitely wants kids. Not that we needed the confirmation.”

“He’s had their names picked out since he was seventeen,” Sylvain said, dead-eyed. Goddess, the guy was so fucking cringe. His daydreams about the Dimitri-Byleth idyllic perfect children were well-entrenched. But Sylvain hesitated a beat anyway, and Felix found himself sobering too. “If I tell you something, will you - uh, not tell anybody I said it?”

“I’ll do my best,” Felix panned, “but I don’t know how we’ll stop Felipe from tattling.”

“Very funny.” Sylvain picked at a cuticle, expression tight. After a few long moments, he finally said, “Do you think Dimitri’s really fit to be a parent?”

That was a question worth its weight in gold.

But it was also a pretty useless one. Dimitri was having kids. His family hadn’t been very large to begin with, and Cordelia had executed even his most distant cousins. If Dimitri didn’t have kids, it might be the extinction of his legal bloodline. Losing a crest as powerful as Dimitri’s was no joke, and Dimitri had a strong sense of royal duties. 

There was another question, one that Felix knew for a fact Dimitri worried about - if his children would inherit his illness. It was possible. They had hopes that Byleth’s fresh, good, and completely unrelated genes would reduce risk. Felix knew it had almost been enough to stop Dimitri from having the children at all. But Dimitri really did want those kids. He wanted it more than anything: that happily ever after. Finding that family lost. 

But Sylvain hadn’t asked if Dimitri would be having kids, or even if he should. He was wondering if Dimitri’s illness made him capable of being a parent at all. It was a stupid question too - maybe even stupider than the last. Sylvain never learned a thing. 

“Maybe not if he was doing it on his own,” Felix said bluntly. “But they’ll have two parents, idiot. And all of us. When Dimitri’s capable, he’ll be great. And when he’s not, Byleth and us will be here. What are you worrying about such useless things for? Get real problems.” 

And Sylvain just laughed. For a brief second, his faint wrinkles smoothed out, and he looked like the smartest and stupidest man alive again. “Man, we’re fucked up. It takes all of us combined to maybe competently raise only a slightly fucked up kid. Felipe and the future prince don’t stand a chance.”

“Don’t forget Annie’s spawn,” Felix panned. “We’ll have to throw in the towel then.”

“Nah, your kid’ll be fine. They’ll just have to learn how to be mean back.”

“What about Ingrid’s? We know what she’s like as a mother.” Left unsaid: she’d been mothering them all for years. Horrific.

Sylvain shivered. “Yeah, those ones will need our help.”

“As if we don’t have enough work to do.”

Cat Byleth yawned. She finally gave up the ghost and closed her eyes, resting her chin on the gently slumbering Felipe’s chest. Sylvain and Felix kept watch over them as they both slept, and they even stayed long after Felipe woke up crying from unknown nightmares.

***

Felix stood in front of a wooden door.

He stood in the abandoned hallway with the exhausted Sylvain, the stoic Dedue, and the antsy Balad. Felix didn’t know why they had to fucking wait outside while the girls and Dimitri got to stay inside. Something about how Lady Byleth would probably wake up without any clothes. Fucking so? They’d all seen each other naked.

Granted, nobody liked seeing Lady Byleth naked…and she was, objectively, the Queen of  Faerghus…fine, whatever. So Felix would stand outside like she was already having her baby. Poor Balad was clearly wondering how they hadn’t caught him out and sent him back to his chores by now. 

Sylvain scowled, taking a look at his pocketwatch for the fifth time. “It’s been an hour. That’s twice as long as Mercie said it would take.”

“It’s advanced magic,” Dedue said simply. “Give it time.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“And yet my answer remains the same.”

“But I’m bored!” Sylvain groaned. “I have so much work to do, I can’t stand around here forever -”

“I see where Felipe gets it from.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Felix looked down at Balad, who had been the picture of patience for an hour. “Don’t grow up like them.”

Balad blinked up at him, eyes wide and guileless. Please. Servants were the sneakiest people alive. Teenagers were even worse. “I can’t see how I would, my lord.”

Fair. Very fair. 

Before Sylvain could begin to protest the unfair treatment, green light flashed underneath the door. Felix’s eardrums popped, and an acrid smell hit his nostrils. Dedue made a face, and Sylvain obnoxiously coughed. Balad pinched his nose shut, but he looked up at Felix in abject excitement. 

“Did it work? Was that the counter-spell?”

Excited noises sounded from behind the door, and after a second Felix heard a familiar and welcome husky tone. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but grin.

“Yes on both counts, I believe.”

After five more agonizing minutes, the door opened. Byleth stood at the door, dressed in her exercise clothing of a simple shirt and trousers, blinking owlishly at the assembly behind the door. 

She was herself, as she ever was - mint-green hair and eyes, big eyes and placid expression, short stature standing tall. Still the youngest of them all at only twenty four, her air was still indescribably old. All things told - very much like a cat. 

Almost simultaneously, all three men bowed at her. 

“Greetings to Your Grace from our esteemed houses,” Sylvain said crisply, speaking for all of them. Dedue’s house wasn’t esteemed at all, but he slid into the greeting with his honorary baronage. “It’s a pleasure to see you well, Queen Byleth.”

Queen Byleth, Saintess of the Church of Seiros, Queen of  Faerghus-and-kinda-Fodlan, Professor of the House of Blue Lions, blinked at them.

Finally, her esteemed royal and holy personage said, “...a cat?”

Stoically, Sylvain said, “Yes, Your Grace.”

“...why?”

“I’m the wrong person to ask.”

Byleth slowly turned around, looking at the women assembled behind her. Dimitri hovered near the back of the pack, looking anxious.

At her gimlet eyes, the women hurriedly curtsied or bowed. They had probably been too busy with the check-ups and trousers to remember. Or, judging by Annette’s unusual efforts to lead the pack, were skirting responsibility. 

“May the Goddess’ blessing shine upon Your Grace,” Mercedes said smoothly. “I had nothing to do with you turning into a cat.”

“Greetings to Your Grace from House Fraldarius,” Annette said hurriedly. “House Fraldarius is willing to admit that perhaps -”

“Hey,” Felix said, “don’t drag me into this.” 

“ - two people were being irresponsible. Together. As a team.”

“For a month?” Byleth said. 

“As friends, even.”

“Your Grace!” Dimitri quickly weaseled his way through the crowd of women. He stopped in front of Byleth and bowed hurriedly, almost instinctively. “Greetings to Your Grace by His Majesty of Faerghus.” 

Sylvain groaned, clapping a hand over his eyes. “You outrank her -”

Dimtiri didn’t give a shit. “Are you sure you’re alright? Shouldn’t you sit down, my lady? You’ve had a large turn. Perhaps you ought to rest.”

“I feel quite well-rested.” Byleth patted Dimitri’s hand in thoughtful consideration. Dimitri made the most desolate kicked puppy expression. Byleth just turned back to the assembly, scrutinizing the line-up before breaking into a large smile. Well, it was a large smile for Byleth - to people who didn’t know her, it seemed like nothing else but a curl of the lips. “Dedue. Welcome back to  Faerghus.”

Dedue bowed again. He was the only one who maintained the formalities beyond the first few seconds. “It was a pleasure to return, Your Grace.”

Then Byleth’s gaze swiveled down to Balad. He stiffened, hurriedly bowing again and locking his eyes on the floor. She stepped forward and scrutinized him closely, holding her thumb to her chin. Did she recognize him? How much did she remember of the past month, anyway? With the benefit of long experience, Felix instantly knew that he wasn’t about to find out. Byleth never put any of her cards in play.

“Straighten up.”

Balad straightened, keeping his eyes fixed to the floor.

“Chin up too. Widen your stance a little.” Byleth unabashedly nudged him a little, and he awkwardly widened his stance. Balad looked ready to faint from fear, but Byleth either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She just hummed, looking him up and down closely. After a few heart-pounding seconds, she finally straightened and said, “There’s potential. Tomorrow morning, 0500 hours. Training hall. Don’t be late.”

“Oh, Goddess,” Annette said, “this poor kid.”

“That’s some reward for the boy’s help this month,” Mercedes said reproachfully.

“Do you remember him?” Sylvain asked urgently. “Your Grace, I asked this boy to keep an eye on you for the past month. Did you -”

“I remember enough,” Byleth said mysteriously. Great. That could mean anything. “0500 hours. Don’t be late.”

Balad hurriedly bowed again, face flaming red. “Yes, Your Grace!”

Felix crossed his arms. “Do you have time for another victim, Lady Byleth?”

But Byleth just looked at him, eyes glinting. “I don’t know, Felix,” Byleth said, “do I have time to be a cat for a month?”

Felix stared at her, unrepentant. Byleth stared at him, a focused assault.

Finally, Byleth said, “Join me in Annette’s office, Felix.”

Everybody paled, even Balad. Felix narrowed his eyes. 

Dimitri, relentlessly hovering around Byleth’s elbow, was almost wringing his hands. “Your Grace, let’s discuss this before you make any decisions.”

“His Majesty already said that he doesn’t intend to punish House Fraldarius,” Mercedes piped up, a little anxiously. “Are you mad at them, Your Grace?”

Annette’s face fell tragically. “Lady Byleth, I really am sorry…it was just an accident.”

“Felix knows what he did,” Byleth said mysteriously. She pointed inside the room. “Office. Now.”

Felix shrugged and entered the office as the women were shepherded fully outside. Annette looked strongly as if she wanted to speak with Felix and/or plan an escape route, but Felix just waved her off. 

Byleth closed the door resolutely behind her, letting it latch with a final click. Felix stood in the center of the room at loose attention, eyeing Byleth carefully. Byleth stood in front of him, arms folded and eyes sharp. 

They stared each other down for several long seconds - not so much a battle of wills as a mutual challenge. Byleth silently inquired if Felix wanted to defend himself first. Felix knew better than to self-incriminate.

Finally, Byleth said, “You wrote me a thesis on animal transfiguration in school.”

“That I did.”

“It was good.”

“Thank you.”

“Very good.”

“I know,” Felix said. “It was how I knew ordinary humans can’t turn into cats.” 

“I’m out of the ordinary,” the vessel of the Goddess said, straight faced. 

“Hence turning into a cat.”

“Your thesis included a proof on unwinding animal transfigurations.” Byleth’s piercing stare could have put a hole in Felix’s head. “Annette hit me with a modified Reason spell. You could have undid the transformation at any time.” 

“Please,” Felix said, “don’t flatter me. It would have taken a week.”

Slowly and carefully, Byleth said, “Felix. Did you let me stay a cat for a month?”

Completely unrepentantly, Felix said, “Yup.”

“Why.”

“You needed the break.”

Byleth stared blankly at Felix. 

Felix just shrugged. “What? You were having fun, and it’s impossible to make you relax. Figured I’d take advantage of the opportunity.”

“Why didn’t you volunteer to undo the spell at all?” Byleth asked. “You could have artificially extended the time needed to cure me.”

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get Sylvain and his wife and kid in the same room?”

Byleth pinched the bridge of her nose. Felix felt no shame. 

Finally, she announced, “You were my most troublesome student.”

“And now I’m your most troublesome subject,” Felix said serenely. “Isn’t it funny how life works out?”

“I should tell His Majesty.”

“You won’t snitch.”

Too high a likelihood that Dimitri would actually grow angry. And, obviously, Byleth wasn’t actually mad at all. Byleth had a fantastic time being a cat. It had been the time of her fucking life. 

She wouldn’t admit it. Felix knew. Byleth knew that Felix knew. They would take this mutual secret to their graves. She was undoubtedly already wishing she could return to chasing mice. Felix had her number. 

Byleth sighed, nodding at the door. “You’re dismissed. I’m assigning you an unpleasant task later.”

Straight faced, Felix said, “But Your Grace. I already co-chair committees with Sylvain.” 

Byleth pointedly walked over and opened the door for him. Dimitri was hovering right outside the door, apart from the other Blue Lions relentlessly gossiping. Everybody’s eyes snapped to Felix and Byleth instantly, assessing the situation. 

Everybody noticed in unison that Felix was looking rather smug. Annette breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Byleth announced, guaranteeing that everybody would worry about it. “Dimitri. Would you like to debrief?”

Somewhat maniacally, Dimitri said, “Byleth, please consider that I have not seen my wife in almost a month.” 

Byleth paused, thinking hard. “Hm. Correct.” After a second’s thought, an answer came to her. “Oh!”

“You understand.” Dimitri grabbed her hand, already pulling her along. “Now, if you’re amenable -”

“Certainly.”

“Excellent. Everybody in this castle is forbidden from bothering us until we return.”

Byleth hurriedly pointed at Balad. “Make that 0800 hours.” 

“Ah - yes, my lady!”

Dimitri and Byleth exited stage left. Very hurriedly. 

Ingrid sighed, folding her arms. “I miss Ashe.” 

“Ah,” Dedue said, “young love.”

Mercedes arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you the expert, Dedue?”

“In those two? Yes.” 

Meanwhile, Annette pushed her way through the crowd and grabbed Felix by the sleeve. She unceremoniously tugged him out of earshot of everybody else, pulling down on his sleeve and making him bend down so she could whisper directly into his ear. 

“What the hell did you do?” Annette hissed. “Why is Byleth mad at you?”

“Can’t say,” Felix said solemnly. “We swore each other to secrecy.”

“You damned good-for-nothing husband, I swear if you went and made things worse -”

“Hark! What is that I see in yonder distance? A young woman in a glass home? What is she holding? That couldn’t possibly be a stone -”

“I have been stressing the past month, and if you had any information that might have reduced that stress -”

“But you got an extension on all of your deadlines!” Felix added cheerfully. Please. Stress. She had been waiting for Mercedes to come and fix it. She had been busy the past month catching up on all of her work, not just the Cat Byleth situation. “Now all of your papers are written, your work’s completed, your best friend’s here, and the Queen of  Faerghus isn’t a cat anymore. Round win in my book.”

“That’s not - did you have something to do with this?”

“I had absolutely nothing to do with any of this.” That was extremely true. A little too true, but definitely true. In a technicality. 

Annette’s eyes narrowed. “That sounds like a technicality.”

And, bizarrely - beautifully - Felix could only lean in and kiss his wife. She immediately kissed him back - it had been a while for them too - and they joined together for a long handful of valuable seconds before they finally separated.

Felix kept her in his arms, relaxing into the feeling of her warm weight. Hopefully the others were too busy bickering amongst themselves. They were way too old for ridiculous PDA like this. He kept his voice low, secluding words away just for the two of them. “Maybe you should take a break too. Let’s take a week off. Just don’t do shit, you and me.”

“Felix!” Annette lightly batted him on the shoulder, but she didn’t pull away. “I’m behind enough as it is already!” 

“You’re always behind! I’m always behind, we’re always busy - so what?” Somehow, for some weird reason Felix couldn’t quite explain, at that moment saying these words to Annette felt like the most important thing in the world. “We were too busy during the war and we were too busy before it. Who cares? I just want time with you.”

“You’ll get time when I retire from my royal magician position in five years,” Annette scolded. “We’ll both move back to your home and settle down then, remember? It’s in the timetable?”

So it was. As Felipe had been in the timetable, and never in Sylvain’s life. As taking care of Dimitri was worked into every day, and they had glossed over actually trusting him. Ashe had been in Brigid for months, and Ingrid hadn’t so much as opened her mouth to complain - accustomed to it as a wartime necessity, with no time to stop and remember that the war was over. Only a summons from the king brought Mercedes across the country to even see her husband again. Even Dedue, returning just to reunite and reconnect, had to remind the nearest Duscuran child that he was never allowed to relax, to lose composure and dignity - the same composure and dignity that Dedue maintained at every moment, without fault or slip. The only break any of them had taken in the past month was completely involuntary, and it had involved turning into a cat. Yes, Felix was completely unrepentant. 

“Annie,” Felix said, and for a moment he let her see the exhaustion in himself too, “are we going to live the rest of our lives like this?”

Were the Blue Lions going to end as they began - pushed to the brink by fear and desperation, and only pushed further as danger encroached around every corner? Would they live now as they had always lived - leaders and combatants in a war for their lives, no expenses spared just to live? Struggling to take care of Dimitri as Dimitri struggled to take care of them, looking to their old teacher for guidance and floundering when left without her? 

Annette was quiet for a long minute. She wasn’t used to seeing that look in his face. Felix didn’t show his heart very frequently, even to her. Maybe that was the weight he still carried.

Finally, she said, “Maybe a quick break.” 

Felix’s smile resurfaced on his face, and he knew it was a lot looser. “A week?”

“A whole week? What would we even do?”

“Whatever we want, maybe.” Felix paused a beat. “His and Her Majesties have the right idea.” 

Annette giggled, resting her forehead on the chest. “Wanna invite -”

“Ah, I hear new parents have no time for that sort of thing.”

“Maybe they can take a break too.” 

“Maybe we’ll all take a break,” Annette said, rolling her eyes. “We’ll let the continent of Fodlan grind to a halt because a group of friends are exhausted and horny. That’s the work of responsible nobility.” 

Felix wanted to be the best parent in the world. He wanted to be the best father who ever lived. He wanted to be a father who made Annette cry in relief, because she would never worry if he would abandon her and his children. She wouldn’t even think of it. Blue Lions or not, important titles and distinguished peerage or not - Felix would make her worries disappear. Even their ghosts wouldn’t exist in her life, or the lives of their children. 

It had to start now. He still had to whip everybody else into shape too. 

“It’s always been us versus the world.” For better or for worse - but that described a great deal. “Let’s let the world take care of itself for a little while.”

If Annette had any arguments, she chose to kiss him instead of making them. Which was about as good as no arguments at all. 

[blaiddydbrokeit]

top 5 fe3h lore fun facts mayb?

Let's go!

1. Garreg Mach Uniform designs come in pairs.

Marianne <- -> Linhardt (cape design)

Dorothea <- -> Sylvain (open collar shaping)

Hilda <- -> Caspar (length differences)

Petra <- -> Felix (summer with standard color)

Ingrid <- -> Dedue (generic full uniform)

Bernadetta <- -> Ashe (hoodie and sport bottoms)

Annette <- -> Ignatz (satchel and modified shoe choices)

2. Rufus is very likely pay-to-win with the women, because of his high status and wealth. He could throw money at women despite looking like a wet mop and they would jump at him, explaining why Sylvain seems to believe the rumors of Rufus' philanderous ways.

3. One of the likely reasons that the Tragedy of Duscur had such a fatal outcome was because they were attacked shortly after crossing the Sacred Gwenhwyvar, leaving them cornered with little means of backing out to regain footing, especially in a relatively unfamiliar territory of the Duscur forests.

4. Garreg Mach seems to operate on a uniform policy that allows students to mix and match pieces, and for wealthier students to have more customization. However, the blazer is the most expensive piece of the uniform, which likely leads a fair bit of the cast to leave it off - especially the commoners, like Ignatz, Leonie, Raphael, Mercedes and the such, who may not be able to afford it (and often also wearing their own shoes, socks and so on), or characters who do not like to dress so formally (Felix, Caspar, Hilda). However, considering likely costs, the honor of the most expensive uniform at Garreg Mach belongs to Dimitri thanks to the unique silver heraldry and armor. Dedue likely also only owns the full uniform because Dimitri paid - chances are, he would have otherwise been dressed more like Raphael. Petra is a unique comparison in this case, likely being "sponsored" her uniforms by the Empire, and opting to go without the blazer to avoid overheating.

4. Flayn's dress appears to be made out of pieces of Garreg Mach uniforms refashioned for a more girlish, less stern and uniform-like silhouette. It involves the use of a lot of gathering, which hides piecing seams well, but retains some of the aesthetics of the uniform.

5. While in the Dimitri-Sylvain-Felix trio Dimitri is the most openly... um. Prone to throwing away his life, between Lambert, Rodrigue and Matthias, Lambert is the least prone. However, Matthias is able to keep it in check much better than Rodrigue, who would likely not think twice about impulsively charging in with Lambert just to stick close as a literal shield despite being more suited as a middling range support troop casting magic as a defense than as front-line raw power. Ironically, Matthias lags behind, as the anchor holding the backlines - even if you get past Lambert, Matthias is twice as serious about holding the last line of defense and he WILL lash out.

[bacchanaliae]

BABY, YOU MAKE ARMAGEDDON LOOK SO EASY ⸻ introducing yoon eunseok, d7.

wait till you hear about this next nominee: YOON EUNSEOK, born on the 8th of SEPTEMBER, 1993 and bears a striking resemblance to SONG KANG. they’re a FOURTH year BACHELOR OF BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION student and ACED EVERY COURSE WITHOUT AN ATTENDANCE COMPONENT — impressed yet? rumor has it they’re hoping to be the COO OF THE YOON GROUP, but personally, i think they should aim a little higher — something like the king’s club, for one. now, that suits them a little more, don’t you think? guess we’ll just have to see if they’ve got the talent for it in our upcoming recruitment round.

hello!! i'm shrimps, (25, she/they) like the fried rice, and i'm very excited to terrorize your lovely muses with my lil guy eunseokkie! i'm hoping to get around to my dms soon-ish (i'm kissing your foreheads, btw), but feel free to leave a like and i'll appear in your walls! if you'd rather plot on disco, just lmk.

BACKGROUND

pretentious nonsense full bio

tl;dr : guy who's a supporting character in his own story suffers a minor existential crisis in deciding between (a) wanting to do his own thing and (b) fulfilling the role he was quite literally created to play. unfortunately, he's made this everyone else's problem.

this is subject to change if needed to fit with e2, but i imagined the yoon family to run a silicon mining business that skyrocketed in no small part due to eunseok's father marrying into a family that manufactures semiconductors.

eunseok's father . . . now there's a real schemer. everything he did was designed to gain control of the family company, and eunseok was no exception. eunseok has grown up acutely aware of this, and is completely normal and unaffected as a result.

eunseok wasn't always a menace!! eunseok always had a predilection for mischief, but genuinely tried to be the perfect heir as a child — though he soon realized that nothing he did really mattered. if he did everything he was supposed to do, fine. that was the minimum expectation. if he acted out, the consequences would just be swept away like the trouble never happened. yoon eunseok had a very particular role to fulfill, you see, and something like proper parenting wasn't going to get in the way of eunseok's father's plan to take over the family company.

and so a monster was born.

2013 (+ 2016) : invited to the club to terrorize the other initiates. wish i was joking about this one. driven to succeed because (a) he plays to win and this is the sort of environment he thrives in, unfortunately, and (b) as a fuck you to the other initiates in his class. interestingly, the actual benefits of being in the king's club are at most a tertiary motivation to eunseok — i guess one of the weaknesses of never concocting your own schemes is that you aren't great at long-term planning. throws notorious parties. kinda notorious, period — there are rumors that he'll hook up with anyone tall and beautiful, regardless of gender (this is true); that he races mclarens on the weekends (this is false); and that he bribed (true), slept with (false), and physically threatened (technically false) his way to the top end of the class. endlessly ambitious and seemingly insatiable, you might be wondering: what's the point, if eunseok's whole deal is that he'll trot obediently back to daddy's side when the man calls?

well, i'm not saying that it's the painful crash at the end. but i'm not not saying that, either. i don't think eunseok really knows, himself.

2024 : the pawn is put in play; the dog is leashed. placed as an evp somewhere, then named coo upon his father's ascension to ceo/chairman/whatever. appears to have chilled out dramatically, but time will tell whether this is maturity, resignation, or mere suppression. :)))))))

PERSONALITY

entj. waffles between chaotic neutral and chaotic evil.

character inspo/parallels include roman roy, sylvain gautier, dorian gray, the cuntier end of taemin's solo discography (stream eternal out aug 19!!!!), the weeknd's trilogy album, nero, and lestat de lioncourt. also my uni roommate's various finance-bro exes. lmao.

all of this to say: think of the most annoying guy you know. think of a shark in the water. think of a poorly-trained bloodhound let off the leash. think of blood, generally — something slick and thrumming and visceral. if eunseok wants something, he will take it, because honestly? eight times out of ten, the taking is what he really wants, in the end.

weirdly intense but deeply unserious lol.

he's no master manipulator . . . moreso a cudgel lol. does very little plotting for how often he seems to be Making Moves(tm). how things never really come back to bite him should be studied in a lab, or maybe made into a hbs case study, but he's smarter than most people give him credit for, particularly in actual business management (unironically i think he would thrive as a logistics guy), but he cares little for mind games and saving face and also likes baiting fights for fun so. yeah.

thinks everyone playing nice is a hypocrite and a dummy! comes across as super arrogant but like in his mind . . . he's just being honest? like, yeah. he's rich. he wins a lot. by virtue of him winning, someone else, e.g., you, are a loser. life is short so why are we wasting time pretending otherwise?

ooough i wanna punch eunseok just reading this back. ironically i'd still absolutely go to the club with him because despite it all you know our boy is good fun. also you'll probably leave with an insane story. but i digress.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

these r. rough but! i'm really very open to brainstorming!!

a childhood friend — someone who witnessed eunseok's various metamorphoses and who is probably the only person, other than eunseok's father, who was unsurprised when eunseok fell in line after graduation. i'm flexible re: the exact contours of the relationship (ride or dies for life! drifted apart! bitter enemies), but i like the idea of someone knowing eunseok better than he knows himself.

2024 : if yr muse is involved with electronics: i present to u the (pending) heir of korea's largest semiconductor manufacturer. mwah ok.

2016 : love, hate, whatever — the point is that eunseok is used to evoking strong reactions. your muse, however, doesn't seem to care at all, nonreactive to flirtation and fury, and that really doesn't sit well with eunseok. tensions are high; maybe this volatility comes to a head.

2016 : alternately, maybe an initiate who has gotten the idea of gaining eunseok's approval into their head (get well soon!). get ready to have your time supremely wasted, buddy.

2016 : another envelope-pusher. yeah, the king's club parties, but you two party, making recklessness a game.

2016 (+2024, maybe!) : the person whose door eunseok finds himself stumbling to when the party's over. in the haze between intoxication and sobriety, you get to see a eunseok that even eunseok doesn't get to see — one that voices insecurities and worries. it's a weird sense of trust, and not even one necessarily tied to fondness (though it could be!). it could also be fun, i think, if they didn't keep in touch but for eunseok drunk-dialing your muse. that'll make the reunion exciting, eh!!

friends. enemies. flings. i don't necessarily know that eunseok's capable of holding down a relationship but i think it could be funny to see him try. in 2024 his family's probably trying to set him up with someone, so that could be something, maybe?

[fireemblems24]

Scarlet Blaze Ch 15 (Final)

Last one, everyone! After this, I finally get to play Spiritfarer which I got on . . . Christmas 2022.

NARRATION

Last chapter. Finally. Killing so many people in this route is really awful. Especially since you just . . . don't in the other two.

I think the last chapter will take place at the monastery.

Oh, great, does this mean I have to protect Bernie's dad in this route? I hope Rhea kills him, like gets this badass cut scene where she cuts him down for perverting her faith by using it as a propaganda tool.

So TWSITD showed up and is attacking Rhea and the Empire.

They're mostly after the "beasts" (aka Nabateans? Or humans?)

I wish this meant that we teamed up with Rhea, but we know Edelgard would team up with TWSITD first.

Catherine and Rhea got a cool moment together though.

Yep, we have to protect Count Varley, gross.

MAP

No side battles! This final chapter will be super quick, which is nice.

I'm VERY curious what the Golden Deer students say after Claude's moment last chapter lamo.

And if any Lions mention Sylvain :((((

OMG, Ignatz is savage. He only cares about painting the battle. No mention of Claude.

Yuri wishes he could kill Varley instead of save him. Good for him. He really feels more suited for AG/AM/SS/VW than SB/CF/GW.

Well, at least Mercedes mentioned Sylvain. And Ingrid and Annette. Saying they died for what they believed in and admires them for it, since she could never.

Poor Ashe is having a crisis. Still had no idea wtf he's doing in the Empire's war camp. Honestly, this game made him so much more interesting.

Linhardt also has no fucking clue why he's here. I swear he does nothing but complain every map (in a funny way) and wish he was doing literally anything else.

Lorenz is more concerned about his future bc of Claude than worried about him. Man, guy really has no one loyal to him lol.

DOROTHEA & CASPAR C

I swear I did a much better job getting supports in GW and AG.

Caspar has a bunch of books, and Dorothea's horrified by the idea that he'll use them in training.

Caspar plans to read them. Dorothea teases him. Apparently Lin made similar comments.

Dorothea makes him promise not to hurt the books. A woman after my own heart.

Caspar's like, did you know my dad reads! Dorothea's like, yeah . . . how do you think he got his role if he didn't.

Dorothea tells a story about an unlearned commander who studied strategy in books and improved to become legendary.

The only stupid part of this is thinking you can read and understand complicated books in 5 days and become an expect in 5 days. For once, Caspar was the smart one being like, uh, I need more time.

MERCEDES & LYSITHEA B

This support is SB locked, but neither characters are Eagles. It may be the only support like that in the game. But, hey, new Mercie content, I'll take it!

Mercedes comes across Lysithea in the kitchen, trying and failing to cook.

The fruits she wanted to use are moldy though. Lysithea has an idea to use something else for the fruit - a sugar syrup.

Lysithea has dedicated her time to learning how to cook because of how good Mercedes' cooking was, so she credits Mercie for the sugar syrup, which she learned because of that.

Baking also helped Lysithea learn the importance of taking breaks.

Mercie calls her a wizened old grandma, lol.

They arrange a tea party.

SHEZ & LINHARDT A

It starts with Linhardt saying they haven't learned anything about Shez's powers. I wonder how funny this sounds if you get it after the special chapters.

Linhardt says it's find because the war is almost over, so there's less need and chance for the powers to go out of control.

Shez pretty consistently wants to continue working as a mercenary after the battle.

He also seems to have no desire to stay in Enbarr lol.

Linhardt wants Shez as a personal bodyguard. Honestly, not a bad choice.

Then Linhardt says something like "spending the rest of my life with some random bodyguard" and then makes an excuse to leave. so he wants to stick with Shez for life. It's kind of sweet.

EDELGARD & PETRA A

Their only support

Edelgard comes across Petra praying to Bigid gods. In Brigid they pray in nature rather than in churches in Fodlan.

Edelgard asks Petra why she's risking her life in the war because it's bad for Brigid.

So Brigid will only be freed if Petra remains alive.

To be fair, it's because she doesn't know the new leader. Still feels a bit icky for Petra.

Edelgard warns about "tricks" the enemy will use. She really has a beef with anyone using tactics.

Petra just says she's happy to fight and can't run while everyone else remains and fights.

Edelgard says she can't back out, which true, but she could've just not started one. But that's in the past I guess.

Overall, came across better than the Houses one where Petra didn't seem like an equal.

EDELGARD/LYSITHEA/HAPI PARALOGUE

My plan is to have Edelgard and Shez make the other two adjuncts and see if I can't beat the paralogue that way.

It's about TWSITD, which isn't surprising given that character list.

God, I've made SB Shez so fucking stupid. Never understanding anything. It's so funny.

So is this about Cornelia? They found one of her old hideouts.

I had Shez shrug about joining. Hapi got offended.

They're talking about Hubert. I wish he was here. He's my best unit.

I wish Cornelia showed up. She's so fun, but sadly she did not.

They didn't find anything. Hapi was mostly chill about it. Edelgard and Lysithea were more bothered.

Shez could show concern or change the subject. Obviously I made him change the subject since SB!Shez is not intelligent.

CASPAR/LINHARDT PARALOGUE

Like the last time, I just plan to adjunct Caspar and let Shez and Linhardt do all the work.

They're arguing if Caspar saw a ghost or not. Linhardt remains unconvinced.

Lamo, their dads showed up and Linhardt's dad called him a "fountain of positivity" when he brought up their could die any day.

Linhardt is also upset that he has to help.

We're hunting down Empire people who've turned against Edelgard.

I had Shez not want to go lol.

The main battle changed to defeating their dads. I don't think I'm supposed to take this paralogue seriously.

Linhardt had no fun.

Bergliez gave Caspar some gaunlets, and I could either be happy for him or jealous. I obviously picked jealous since it's fun to pick the dick answer lol.

FINAL BATTLE

Why is the S rank reward Edelgard's axe? This is the last battle, right? Is there some post game stuff? Because I'm so ready for this to be done (I don't think I'll do it).

Funny, Edelgard is the one defending the monastery this time, and Varley. Imagine your final battle being about protecting Varley. Ugh.

Only 40 points for the final battle?

Just killed Catherine :(

Cyril just showed up. Rhea's so concerned. Not looking forward to killing a child :((( He died too. This is by far the bloodiest route. I swear no one even dies in AG, and in GW it's only Sylvain's dad.

This can't be it, right? That was too easy. And Cyril as the final boss makes no sense. I'm betting it's a Thales and Rhea fight.

Rhea turned into a dragon. Badass. Glad she was the final boss poper and not Thales.

Spoke too soon. I think they're both here now.

Think I beat it. We're at a cut scene now. Thales is doing magic shit. Rhea attacked him and just ignored Edelgard and Shez like they weren't worth her notice lol.

Wait, that's it?

Rhea pushes Thales off a cliff? So RHEA's the hero??

There's no way they could've survived that - Edelgard. My girl, Rhea is a fucking dragon and Thales can warp. I have bad news from you. Also, Byleth survived a fall too so . . .

What happened to Dimitri? I don't think I killed Claude either?

Is that really it? The war just keeps going. The war just keeps on with no end in sight. Hahahaha. You mean I played how many hours for THAT? I'm going to laugh my ass off if all 3 routes end like this. What a cheap way to avoid killing any of the lords.

OMG. What a stupid ending.

Except for Rhea. She got the big hero moment lol.

I kept waiting for another battle. Esp since there's an S rank reward that's Edelgard's axe, so Idk what's going on.

OMG, this is going to take FOREVER. They're showing the MVP of every single side battle and not just the main ones. I'm only at ch 6.

There was a lot more variety in MVP than I thought. I thought it would be the Hubert show, but it's pretty varied.

Ok, so around ch 10 turns into the Hubert show. I like seeing battle data though, so I sat through it.

Ok, so you get a letter from the person you get a whistle from. Aww, I eventually won Hubert's trust, and he admits he and the army needs us. Glad I picked him.

Wait, no paired endings? That blows. I hope this isn't a new trend since Engage didn't do that either (I love paired endings)

Ok, so it looks like some stuff would carry over to another playthrough on this file. So, in the future, I'd replay AG over my GW or SB playthrough to at least get 2 on the same one. I can't see myself replaying SB or GW. It's not like the story would matter since I could just skip it, but the gameplay is pretty much the same, so why not play the route with my favorites and the most unit choices on top of that?

So you can carry over supports and even unit level. So I could play Dimitri as the absurd level he's at in level one if I saved over my AG file? Because that would be funny. Probably boring. But funny.

Still feels good. One down. Two to go.

xxxx

[bluelolblue]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐜𝐬

I wanna get myself more motivated to work on them again so... have a list of my Overlord oc's. And they're anthropomorphic animals, that's important ahaha

Also they're still wip and it's hard for me to describe how they look, cuz I can see them in my head and idk how to explain aaah

This is also not everything about them, I'll probably explain each more detailed some other time or if I make a side blog for that. And their backstories are wip.

𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐧 - one of my first oc's back from 2019. He is the most powerful one, he is like a hybrid of a dire wolf and a ordinary wolf, black coat but probably maybe a bit lighter black, he is tall, has purple eyes and always wears nice suits. He's a gentleman, literally his personality. His form is "stuck' in his forties or fifties. All Overlords were once mortals, but when they became Overlords, they became immoral. So they don't age physically. Oh, and my inspiration for him was Zhongli from Genshin Impact. Like his soft spoken voice, Keith Silverstain, that's a perfect voice for him. Zhongli's personality is similar to Sylvain. But the voice fits him so well. He's also like a father figure.

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟 - he's the youngest in the Overlords. Probably in his twenties. White cat with green eyes, he's really good friends with Sylvain since he helped him out a lot and he chose Mischief to became another Overlord. So Mischief is very loyal to him. His real name isn't Mischief (still working on his real name, but I chose Mischief back then bc he kinda had a different personality but I decided to keep it bc it grew onto me).

𝐀𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐚 - she's a lioness. She's really pretty. Idk how to even describe her aaah. My inspiration for her was Gianna D'Antonio, especially in that dress she was wearing. She's elegant, speaks up when she wants to and is also ready to protect those she cares for. Has a crush on Mans. In her forties.

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐬 - now, I wanna change his name but it's NOT pronounced as "Mens". Idk why I chose that name for him ahah. He's a dark black coated wolf, is more muscular than Sylvain. My inspiration for him was John Wick. He has a crush on Athena and she actually has on him too and they will be together. He was supposed to be "Overlord of Death" and I might keep that title for him, but then I'll gotta figure out titles for others too. But he's really gentle, has a soft deep voice (literally Keanu's voice, that's how I "hear" him). So also in his forties or fifties. He's originally from Norway. He was giving me that vibe and I was like "Yeah I can do that"

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐬 - okay I also wanna change his name or make it that that's his Overlord name. His name means "Eternal death" and idk if his parents would've named him that, so I gotta figure that out. He's a deer that was born with melanism, that means he was born with pure dark black coat, so it's kinda like a mutation. He's also kinda... cursed, and can see like ghosts or some different types of paranormal presence and can sense them. He's really elegant and just really handsome. Also a gentleman. In his late twenties or thirties. Oh and yeah, he's inspired a little by Santino.

𝐋𝐮𝐧𝐚 - a black coated cat (either blue or orange eyes) and has a bit longer fur than Mischief. She's a bit more cheerful than others, but she's also very elegant and pretty. Also, she was with Romano and their love story is really deep and I gotta work on it more. But she really cares deeply for a person who means a lot to her. She's also friends with Sephtis, were also friends back when both were mortals.

𝐊𝐢𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐢 - very wip, I didn't even work on her that much. She's either a silver fox or a white fox with some silver/dark features. And she's supposed to be related to Japanese culture. But... WIP AAAH

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨 - I... he was supposed to have a really tragic ending. He wasn't supposed to be an Overlord and he still isn't, I'm just thinking about turning him into one. Maybe like a plot twist. Bc I actually got really attached to him and he is inspired by Santino. So I don't think I can. The point was to show that not everyone gets a happy ending. No matter what he went through, he's like a tragic "hero". Yk those types of characters. Something like that. But... hm what if I make him an Overlord? I explained before but, he's a belgian malinois. Perfect voice for him would be... Riccardo Scamarcio. Please voice my Italian dog oc.

Very VERY wip idea a tigress Overlord and I'd probably MAYBE make some more Overlords.

Overlords kinda stand between the "good" and "bad". And what exactly they do is still wip bc there is a rank above them (unless I change that?). I often end up changing few stuff so yeah. But I need to motivate myself for this, I love them all.

Anyways, yeah. I really wish I could draw them bc then their looks would make more sense and you could actually see them. And I'm really bad at explaining how they look AHAH

[figbian]

Tell Me of the dunmeshi wip 👀 that title bangs. also tell me about frat au and how much of it is based on The Frat.

dungeon meshi wip CONTAINS MANGA SPOILERS so putting it under a readmore. everyone else has to suffer thru frat au info.

frat au is only Sort Of based on The Frat (dear readers, this fanfiction author joined a fraternity and is a brother of [loud car horn]). due to the like ways fe3h works narratively, it felt a lot more true to a Good AU to be honest to an all-male fraternity, so it draws on The Frat's past (as we didnt haze, but hazing definitely used to occur) as well as info from other fraternities or fraternity-like structures (and a handful of How Do College-Age Boys Behave anecdotes coming directly from my real life college-age brother who is Not a frat boy).

sylvain, dimitri, and others are in a frat. their fathers (plus rodrigue lol) were in this frat. etc. not exactly explored but crucial to the narrative: how traditional fraternities uphold like lineage and legacies in college settings and why that creates bad gatekeeping etc etc etc. basically the ways fraternities suck on an individual level (hazing, unhealthy relationship to substances, pressure to conform to a certain set of standards, etc) AND the ways they operate on a structural level in a shitty way.

the plot however is: sylvain returns from some time off at university. in his time off, he's effectively ghosted his friends and no one knows what happened/why he vanished. felix is recovering from an injury that delayed his journey to become a professional tennis star (<- lol). they've known each other for so long, they both have dead brothers, but also how much do they really know about each other?

posting this snippet SPECIFICALLY for brothers of [siren wail]. i think youll all recognize the inspo for 'the green room.'

“maybe we should shift to explosions,” raphael said as he came back into the room, looking over at the car crumpling into a tree playing on the television. “for the vibe.” “the vibe,” agreed sylvain, privately wondering if there was that much of a difference between crashes and explosions. he figured that any kind of disaster suited the green room. the windowless room in the phi ep basement––named for the carpeting, which had, once, allegedly, been green (sylvain’s efforts to deep clean last spring had failed to prove anything except that one should always wear shoes in the green room)––was less of a vibe and more…well. the couches were all leather––easier to clean if someone puked on them; the ceiling had suspicious stains; the walls were covered in bad murals painted over several years of pledging––and sylvain would know they were bad, being an art history major; the tv sat on a pile of wooden crates. at least the sound system wasn’t terrible. when sylvain wanted to impress girls, he never brought them to the green room. he sat back on the couch and spread his legs. “yeah, fuck it,” he heard himself say. “explosions.”

dungeon meshi fic is suuuper rough rn. its Probably a 5+1 of 5 times marcille's friends died and 1 time they didnt (hahaha) but what i have written so far is all about chilchuck going senile and dying. the fic is very obviously tackling like "what happens when the people you love and remember as young and full of life grow old, and how is preparing for someone's death as painful as their death itself" BUT ALSO is about "what if the dragon part of falin makes her age at the same rate as marcille...and how is that, in some ways, worse than if she just lived as a human did?" bcs As You Know im always interested in the question "when is it true that living beyond when the narrative expects you to is worse than dying?" that part just doesnt have a lot written.

there is NOT a lot written that i posted for wip wednesday but here:

chilchuck has lost most of his teeth, so he has to eat porridge and other soft foods. “at least it’s not monsters,” he says to marcille every morning, which was funny the first few times and now is depressing. “yeah,” says marcille, pouring some sugar into his tea. it’s unclear to marcille––who, despite having half a century to prepare for this, feels unprepared––exactly when chilchuck seems to think it is. he keeps asking about his wife, his shop, his daughters, whether or not they could resurrect falin.  “have i reached out to her?” he asks. his wife, he means. mostly he seems to think they’ve just defeated the winged lion. marcille has not gained much patience in last fifty eight years; having to admit to mistakes she made fifty eight years ago every day for the last couple of years has been––hard. it’s been hard. “no,” she says, gritting her teeth. chilchuck’s ex-wife died fourteen years ago. marcille learned many mornings ago it’s best to convince chilchuck to write her a letter that cannot be sent rather than make him relive his grief every day.

[zooophagous]

The change in temperature was always so sudden from the earth to the sky. Especially when nude. The damp updrafts of summer air cut through Strauss’ sparse fur and the cold of it was making his joints ache. No matter, he was in a time crunch. The watch in his knap-sack was still pinging his location, and Artemis wouldn’t be able to talk security out of chasing him down for long.

Luckily, he wouldn’t need long. He was sure of it. Sylvain’s odd… obsession, for lack of a better word, would finally be a plus. Maybe he could finish this outing without broken bones. He did have a penchant for breaking things as soon as he foolishly left his safe house.

Finding her wasn’t his immediate problem, really. The largest immediate problem was that he was currently a giant bat, and being seen by the populace might land him a spot on the nightly news. That thin lipped snarky reporter with the bad suit would talk about him. He hated the thought. There had to be a place to land that was simultaneously well hidden while still being close enough to town to quickly find Sylvain before he could be darted and hauled away like a marauding grizzly bear.

A line of trees in a field, a “shelter belt,” as Troy had called them, offered the only real shelter on this piece of plain. He swooped low towards it, and finally touched down onto the grass, leaving a trail in the silver dew that sparkled in the dim moon. He dropped his bag from his jaws as he descended. He had no sooner made ground then he had begun his painful regression back into his human form.

Holding the shape of the great bat took energy and concentration. Releasing it felt like dropping a heavy weight. His back and shoulders ached and burned as muscle and tendon and bone slipped back into itself. His dark fur fell out in sweaty clumps. It stuck to him. He grunted and scraped the foul texture from his skin with his claws. He ran his hand along the dew drops and collected what water he could to wash it from himself.

Next time he had to do this, he resolved to remember to bring a towel. He retrieved his dropped bag and began the task of dressing himself while still covered in cold water and wet hair. The sensory stimuli of it was enough to put him in a biting mood. Thankfully there was currently nobody to bite. He was well hidden, yes. But still too far from town.

At least this time he was prepared. If nothing else, he at least had a shirt. One of his band shirts, the Rolling Stones this time, and a pair of blue jeans, with a comfortable pair of practical sneakers. It was the perfect disguise. He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way towards the highway.

He’d seen this in a film before. The American phenomenon of the “hitch hiker.” Usually these things were the set up for some hapless fool becoming cannon fodder for some movie monster. Strauss wondered if he would make a good movie monster. He was a vampire, after all, but perhaps too mild mannered.

Perhaps he was better suited to the role of the hapless fool.

He stuck his thumb out in a pantomime of the hitchhiker and walked backwards, facing traffic, trying to make eye contact with a passing car. Hypnosis wasn’t an option, with the cars flying by at a high rate of speed. He would have to make due with his old standby. Charity.

With any luck, the first truck to pass by wouldn’t be Ursula with a taser. Headlights beamed into his face and momentarily blinded him. He blinked the green afterimage away. The wind of passing cars swept his hair. He was jealous, a little. He still hadn’t learned to drive one himself. Not for lack of desire, either, but being trusted with a vehicle was a tall order.

He wasn’t having much luck. Despite the trappings of an ordinary human, there was no hiding his height and his gaunt appearance. No doubt he was a creepier hitchhiker than most. He began to feel worry creep up in his throat when finally, a chariot arrived.

A white pick up, one that even Strauss recognized was a “beater,” but it slowed as it passed him, and finally stopped on the road up ahead. He jogged to meet it. Americans were perhaps stupid, but he could usually count on at least one of them to be kind.

Every nation had its redeeming qualities. He approached the door timidly. The window rolled down to reveal a round, jovial looking face within, illuminated by a cigarette. The man reminded him of Troy, though the hair color was all wrong. He smelled worse than Troy. Smelled of alcohol, really, which would explain perhaps why he was less than cautious about a stranger on the road.

“Hey buddy. You need a lift?”

Strauss hesitated. The car stank, and he was already heavily annoyed by his itchy clothes. He was reluctant to push himself. But time was of the essence.

“Yes… I am a transient. I am trying to make it to St. Joseph, up the road.”

“Well shit. You’re in luck then. I’m heading that way.”

“Excellent.” He glanced down at the door. “May I come in?”

“I stopped for you didn’t I?”

It was as explicit an invitation as he would get. He climbed into the grimy truck and immediately fought the urge to make a rude face when his hand slid over the slightly oily cloth texture of the nicotine soaked seats. The stranger was kind, and the ride was short. It would have to do.

“Danke sir. My name is Mr. Strauss. I am fortunate to have found kindness on the road this evening.”

“Mr. Strauss huh? Don’t have a first name you’re willing to start with? You can call me Jonny.”

The stranger snuffed his cigarette and started down the road while Strauss fumbled with his seat belt. “Transient huh? Where you from, then? And what are you doing out here after dark? It’s dangerous to be walking the highway in the dark. I was worried you’d get hit.”

“I am actually from Germany, sir. I am a ‘recent transplant’ to this state, I suppose. I had a bit of… an emergency this evening. I need to get to town to find someone.”

“Germany? Explains why you talk so damn weird. My mother was a German. Maiden name was Schumacher. You know any Schumachers?”

“I cannot say that I do. It is a large country.”

“Large? Pssh. Your little European countries basically all fit inside Texas. It ain’t that large.” Jonny snarked at him. “So, who is it you’re trying to find in the middle of the night so bad you had to walk down the road to go get em?”

“It is difficult to explain.” Strauss rubbed his neck shyly. “Suffice to say, Mr. Jonny, I am looking for a woman.”

“Oooh I get it. Girl troubles.” Jonny laughed. “I know all about that, bud. She what got you here all the way from Germany?”

“I suppose she did, in a way.” Strauss shrugged. “I very much desire to speak with her. I am not so sure she will be so happy to see me.”

“Eh, you’ll be fine. You’re tall and sort of effeminate, chicks love that sort of thing. That goth emo thing. And the accent. You can win her over.”

“I am glad one of us thinks so, sir.”

“So, this girl. What’s she like? Gotta be special to get you so worked up, hm? She got a name?”

“She is quite unique. A sort of rare breed, similar to myself. Her name is Sylvain. She is petit, she has a tan skin tone, very long black hair, and a wide smile full of razor sharp teeth.”

“Hah! Oh man, you should write romance novels. Sylvain you say? That’s another interesting sounding name. She French?”

“I am not sure.”

“Well, maybe if she is you two can bond over pastries and wine or whatever it is Europeans talk about. Soccer I guess. Or do you call it football?”

“It is called football. The entire world calls it that. Only Americans call it soc-”

Jonny hit the brake hard. Strauss’ words were crushed by the seatbelt that locked tight across his chest. The truck began to fish-tail and finally stopped.

“What was that about?” Strauss demanded. He grabbed the seat belt and with a firm yank, something internal had snapped and he could once again move freely.

Jonny sat stock still, hands on the steering wheel, staring blankly ahead.

“Mr. Jonny?”

Strauss tapped his arm. Perhaps his choice of substances had caught up to him. He turned his gaze out the windshield to meet the truth.

Just beyond the halo of headlights was a dim figure. She stood in the middle of the road, slightly illuminated by the truck, but with her face shrouded in night, except for her eyes, which burned like embers in her smiling face.

Strauss sat still, except to re-buckle his seat belt. Sylvain made her way to the driver door and forced it open. She put her hand on Jonny’s shoulder.

“Get out.”

And he did. And immediately fell face first onto the shoulder, before rolling to the ditch. Sylvain climbed in to claim his spot, and spent a moment adjusting her seat and steering wheel.

“So good to see you again Lu. It’s ok if I call you Lu, right?” She grinned as the vehicle slowly made its way back up to highway speed.

“You could have picked a nicer fucking ride, Lu. I’m gonna need to shower after this.”

“Did you just steal a car?”

“Hardly the worst thing either of us has done.” She rolled down her window and casually hung her arm out the side. “About time you showed up. I was worried you were avoiding me.”

“I was.”

“So what’s got you out and about looking for me, then? You had to know you’d bump into me.”

“I had a hunch.” Strauss replied quietly. He was definitely correct earlier, in this set up, he was very much the hapless fool.

“Don’t be so cagy about it. Did the VanHelsings cut you loose? Set you free? You’re rehabilitated enough for society now?”

“Not quite. Frau Harker will no doubt be on the hunt for me shortly, if she is not on the road already.”

“So this must be something important then, if she wasn’t enough to scare you into staying put.”

“I do not want to lie to you, Sylvain.” Strauss looked out the window, away from her. She was difficult to maintain eye contact with. Perhaps her advanced power of suggestion went so far as to affect even other vampires. “Listen. We need to talk.”

“I thought you’d never ask, Lu.”

She turned and smiled wide at him, showing off a grin of shark-like teeth. Both a greeting and a threat.

“Talk, then. But first, you and I are going to have some fun.”

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

Honestly though, this (what Ashe is pointing out) is exactly why I don't think GW could possibly end well. There's no "talking it over" after all the bloodshed (especially bloodshed started by them, and especially bloodshed started by them that didn't have to happen).

The way the narration leaves it "open" too at the end of GW just comes across as "it failed". It feels like... a kind of pointless story?

And I know some people might think that since Dimitri personally isn't as deeply affected by losing Matthias and so might be willing, that's still no good if his people and closest allies aren't. Rodrigue and Sylvain wouldn't be so forgiving, and I do think Dimitri would follow suit because that's his father (Rodrigue)'s closest friend and one of his own closest friends' father.

Add that to the fact that they have Sreng to deal with still (and I imagine sooner or Sylvain would figure out that Leicester had a hand in provoking Sreng to attack Faerghus) on top of losing Matthias and I imagine all the stress and aggravation wouldn't bode well for Leicester as far as Claude's thinking of things working out goes.

I just really can't see where GW goes afterward that would be "good" or works in Claude's favor at all. Maybe that was the intention and it was meant to be a route with a completely tragic ending, but apparently there are players who think it would end well and whatnot and I just can't see that happening (both from Faerghus' end and from Adrestia's end, the latter of which Claude discussed within GW itself).

If their intention was for a totally tragic ending, like yeah, I can see that... but as always the writing muddies the waters to make it sound good while something bad is happening. It keeps trying to have a positive spin on bad things as if they're just afraid to commit to a fully bad ending.

[callmewishful]

Day Two of Gautier Family Week! Grief, mourning, and loss await…

.—.

It was late when the knight woke them; frantic pounding on the door that caused Matthias to jump from the bed. His first thoughts were of his sons. Both boys liked to stay out late, Miklan more so than Sylvain, and such late-night excursions could bring trouble. Especially with the like Miklan hung out with and the deeds that Sylvain did. Matthias knew both from personal experience.

“Urgent message from Fhirdiad, M’Lord.” The messenger thrust the letter upon him. Matthias would kill Lambert if it truly wasn’t urgent.

But, according to a staffer in the letter, it was, and the Margrave found himself on the blackened road to his capital in the wee hours of the night. Phelan had begged him to take a battalion or two with him; he couldn’t though. If it was what he feared when he read ‘an incident occurred in Duscur’ then he needed to arrive quickly, and the extra men would only slow him down.

He noted immediately that Rodrigue had not yet arrived, judging by the lack of noise in the castle. Rodrigue could often be found chatting amongst the knights or the staffers, telling horrid jokes and rambling on about whatever topic of conversation suited him best that hour. Instead, the air in the castle felt…stif. There was a tension that Matthias couldn’t quite determine a cause for. Aside from the fact that morning was just breaking, and the people inside had surely been awake for half a day already, things seemed relatively normal.

At least until the first staffer spotted him.

“Ahh! Margrave Gautier!” She ran forward with a haste that worried Matthias. He felt like a healer who was urgently needed because a dying patient came in. And Matthias was no healer. That was Rodrigue.

The woman grabbed onto his forearm, pulling him forward without taking a moments pause to explain. Matthias opened his mouth to question her but was caught off guard by the sheer strength she possessed that caused him to stumble forward after her. Once he regained his pace, he went to ask again on the gravity of the situation. Perhaps Lambert was in a worse state than he had feared. Perhaps it was the Sreng campaign once more and Lambert’s inability to stay with the group nearly got him killed a second time…well, technically a fourth time but Matthias was trying not to hold that against him.

“Madam, where are we off to?” When Matthias found his voice, it was not to ask the question he had initially wanted. The lady passed the stairs leading up to Lambert’s room and his study and his office, all places that Lambert would be. Instead, she dragged him onward towards the main sitting room. He didn’t understand what could be in that room. There was no holiday. It hadn’t been Matthias’s birthday. If things with Duscur had gone well, the staffer wouldn’t have called it ‘an incident.’ Or maybe Lambert would direct them to because he knew it would get Matthias there faster…. Lambert was smart and cunning like that when he wanted to be. If this was truly a ploy to get him into a party, they would be celebrating Matthias going to jail for treason.

He was even more confused when they came upon the sitting room and only the young Prince sat on the ground before the fire. Dimitri was huddled into a blanket, yet he shivered as though that and the fire did nothing for him. His hair was wet, freshly washed perhaps as it was not raining, and hung down in darker blonde clumps. Surely that was the cause of his cold.

Matthias rose an eyebrow at the staffer. For the first time since taking him on this journey, she looked him in the eye. With a cocked head and furrowed brows, she looked just as unsure as Matthias felt. “My Lord?”

“What is going on?” Matthias whispered, gesturing around him.

Her face paled and the woman swallowed hard. Apparently, she had been under the impression Matthias knew exactly what was going on and she was not excited about being the one to have to tell him. “You-you didn’t hear about Duscur?”

“Only that there was an incident.”

“Oh.” She looked out towards His Highness then before turning to look the other way; trying to find someone else to break the news. He knew this behavior. He’d seen it before. It was bad, then. Far worse than he had thought.

“Where is Lambert?” Matthias knew the answer to this question.

The lady looked down at the floor, biting her bottom lip before meeting his intense gaze. “I-I am so sorry, M’Lord-“

“By whose hand?”

This question confused her. “Duscur’s?”

Matthias frowned. He doubted that. Duscur wasn’t that foolish…were they? Matthias thought things had gone well between the two countries. Lambert always spoke so positively of their exchanges and brief meetings. Though his old friend was…had been…apt to see the brighter side than most others. Still, Lambert was a strong man. He had pushed through far heftier defensive lines and came through unscathed. He survived saving Rodrigue from bandits and Sreng. Surely Lambert could survive Duscur of all countries.

“Ahh, Leanna!” Rodrigue waved to the woman in front of Matthias with a cheerful smile. Clearly Rodrigue did not know anything either. The man would never be able to even feign a smile had he known about the rumors of Lambert.

“Duke Fraldarius.” Leanna nodded, mustering a small smile for him. Rodrigue picked up on her mood instantly, he always was perceptive like that, and he looked to Matthias. Despite the margrave’s steady expressions, Rodrigue always knew how to read them as well. Matthias could tell he didn’t do a good job of masking his pain because Rodrigue’s chipper mood fell like a struck pegasus.

“What happened?” He lowered his voice, eyes focused on Matthias. Leanna dismissed herself then, a lingering hand on Rodrigue’s upper arm. So, it fell to Matthias. He despised that. Rodrigue would take it hard, and they all knew it. Matthias didn’t wish to be the one to cause that pain.

In a brief moment of clarity, he remembered the young boy in the room beside them and he guided Rodrigue to an empty lounge down the hall. As they walked his mind spun in endless circles, desperate to figure out how the hell he was going to tell Rodrigue. His friend would be crushed, broken into many pieces. Matthias had to be gentle…and that was not a strong point of his. He was a man of duty, not emotion. And while Phelan had awoken a few of those he thought to be long dead, Matthias was still nowhere near the man he had once been.

There was so much to do though. The crown was gone, Dimitri too young to ascend the throne which meant it would fall to…dear Goddess she despised them. His Highness was likely shattered from potentially witnessing his father’s death, an investigation needed to be completed as to what the hell happened, knights to be interviewed, the battle scene to be inspected; someone had to give statement to the country, both noble and commoners. Lambert’s meetings and work would have to be gone through and that would be a damn pain because Lambert never, not once in his life, took good notes. And how were they to continue on to run the country when Lambert couldn’t be bothered to take five minutes to jot a few things down or when he wasn’t ever coming back? How could he be so foolish as to leave them like this? How could he leave them at all?

It wasn’t supposed to go that way. None of it was supposed to go that way. First Lia…now Lambert. The second funeral he never wanted to plan. The second funeral he shouldn’t have had to plan. Didn’t the Goddess know how things worked? Matthias was the margrave. He was tasked with protecting the country and laying his life down for the sake of it. Lambert was supposed to live to keep the country running until His Highness was of age.

Matthias had faced battle and threats every day since he was eight years old. How many times could the Goddess have taken his life instead?

It would’ve been better served. Matthias wasn’t like Lambert and Rodrigue. He’d lost too much, a wife, a son. Why wouldn’t the Goddess take him instead? He served his purpose. He provided Gautier and Faerghus two sons who had more skill and knowledge than Matthias had ever had in those years. If the Goddess really wanted to take someone for tribute for some sin or because she was angered at something, couldn’t she take him instead? Hell, she might have been doing the country a favor that way.

“Matthias.” Rodrigue pulled at the margrave’s sleeve. He looked desperate and Matthias couldn’t help thinking that maybe Rodrigue had started to piece things together for himself. Matthias had been so lost in his own damn head that he wasn’t acting. Wasn’t that the story of the last few years. Lambert was acting, working to better Faerghus. Wasn’t that another point in favor of his king’s life?

“What is going on?” Rodrigue begged, grabbing Matthias by the shoulders now. “You are…I haven’t seen this expression on your face since…dear Goddess, Matthias. No.”

As he suspected, Rodrigue figured it out before Matthias could say anything. Rodrigue was no idiot, even if Matthias did like to tease him with such in their youth. The duke collapsed in on himself, slow enough that Matthias was able to help lower him to the ground. Rodrigue kept repeating the same phrase ‘he can’t be, he can’t be’ as they sunk to the floor. His old friend took hold of the front of his shirt, eyes pleading and head shaking over and over. Matthias placed a heavy hand on Rodrigue’s shoulder; a finality it seemed, as the man finally closed his mouth and his eyes.

They sat like that, Matthias crouched beside Rodrigue while the duke sat on the floor with the tight grip on Matthias’s shirt, for what felt like years. Matthias swore the outside was dark, or maybe his eyes were just poorly adjusting to the light, by the time Rodrigue spoke again. “Dimitri.”

He tried to stand at the name of their new King, and Matthias finally spoke. “Don’t.”

“He needs-“

“I will tend to him. Take your time.”

Rodrigue retained his wits far quicker than Matthias had. With a quirked brow, he asked the question as gently as one could, “Are you sure you want to handle that?”

It was a fair question. Matthias was not as well versed in emotion but if there was one he knew well it was grief.

“I will be fine. You should rest, Rodrigue.” Matthias stood then, a task in front of him to attend to.

He needed to attend to the young boy because there was no mistaking it now. Their king, their leader, their friend was dead.

[campsupernova]

⚔️ Counselor Introduction ❤️

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

“….and all of my devotion turns violent.”

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Name: Kira Ravyn

Pronouns: she/they

Age: 22

Cabin: Ares

Years at Camp: 6

Preferred Weapon: any. all. yes. I can use anything I get my hands on. Fear me.

Fun Facts: When I summon my suit of armor, the Sailor Moon transformation song plays in my head. No matter the situation.

Other Responsibilities at Camp: I make sure the training weapons are in good condition and help run combat drills.

Other: I’ll sign off on the blog with — K. ⚔️❤️

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

To learn more about this PJO open rp discord server, visit our profile and check the pinned blog. Welcome home, demigods.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

[[ admin here. the admin who plays this character also plays caelus sylvaine, son of zeus. i don’t understand tumblr very well so im more present on the discord server. if i’m on this blog, im probably shit posting. lovely to meet you. ]]

[cherrypikkins]

5, 11, 17! 🤗

Hello there! :3 I hope you don't mind some answers getting repeated!

5) What's their fave and least fave chore?

Kitt's aptitude for flying makes them well-suited to the Sky Watch. It helps that they learned from the best (Seteth) and are less likely to be caught if they decide to fool around.

Their least favourite chore is Picking Weeds/Clearing Rubble. Mainly because of the tedium, but also because they would prefer not to put their hidden physical strength on display.

11) What combat class do they secretly wish they could be?

Hero - both literally and figuratively. So long as gender restrictions aren't stopping them, they could pull it off. They have a strength in axes, after all.

Now if only the job in-game wasn't so horribly suboptimal. LOL

Other than that, they do have an eye for the Valkyrie and Dark Flier classes.

17) What sort of things do they find funny?

Lots of things, especially given how quirky the people at the monastery are. In particular, they really enjoy watching Seteth getting talked back at by Flayn.

But also:

Hanneman and Manuela's bickering.

Annette's songs.

Alois' jokes.

Sylvain being reprimanded by Ingrid.

Raphael stuffing his face at the dining hall.

Linhardt falling asleep in class.

Hilda roping people into doing her dirty work.

Dorothea's petty jabs at Ferdinand

They're definitely not above poking fun at certain people, and may find amusement at other people's minor misfortunes.

Thank you for playing :3

[randomnameless]

Some nice positivity: feh proves social awkwardness in nabateans runs in the family 😂 billy trying to learn to people, flayn “how do you do fellow kids,” seteth having the single social braincell but still failing, rhea wanting to share a meal in the cafeteria 😭 i love them all so much, they really are just so cutely unsure of themselves but are friendly and kind

And somehow, the BL gang is still completely oblivious !

During a Friday visit to an orphanage, as usual, orphans run to Rhea to play and ignore Dimitri after staring a few seconds. It makes him very depressed. Dimitri asks Rhea how she manages to be so close to people while being the Archbishop and having her own role to uphold ; he's worried people, and children, are intimidated by his role and presence now that he is king.

But talking to children is easier, so they reveal the "nice lady with a plate on her head" always gives them biscuits, but the other person shines too much and they always have to squint when they look at him. Dimitri immediately gets the message - maybe he should ask Felix and Dedue to stop using "oil" to polish his armor when they're doing knightly things together - and Rhea has her revelation seeing Dimitri remove his armor, at first she thought Willy was just being horny, but this is the real secret to make people less anxious, the key is to undress!

Cichol would obviously disagree, but who cares about him ?

Come the next meal at the cafeteria, and Rhea is less anxious now that she knows what she has to do. Hopefully for everyone, Annette and Gilbert catch her in front of the doors, wondering what she is doing, is she joining everyone to share a meal?

"Well yes, but first, I have to undress."

Annette immediately wonders what the fuck, but Gilbert knows it must have a hidden meaning, the Archbishop couldn't have meant that the way they both understood it, she has a way with words that is not the way of everyone else, he worked for her for years, he knows she is not some kind of pervert, of course she is not.

Thinking as fast as he could, he only came to the logical conclusion that she wanted to remove her heavy robes, fearing an accident if food falls on them or something like this. Seeing them both silent, Rhea tries to make the situation less weird than it is, explaining how it is to make people feel less bothered if she eats with them.

Annette finally caught it, Lady Rhea's afraid how her role and stature as the Archbishop would make people feel too self-conscious to enjoy a proper meal, that's why she wants to look as if she's only someone and not the Archbishop!

Who knew Sylvain's ramblings about paintings could be useful?

"Worry not Lady Rhea, if you want to wear a normal dress, you will be able to eat with us as you and not as the Archbishop!"

After a few tries to find something that'd suit her, she finally goes in the cafeteria, but is stopped at the last moment by Seteth, who gives her the "I'm going to lecture you for the next 20 years" look, what is she doing, she's too old to play dress-up, this dress is not appropriate it shows her arms, she's the Archbishop, cover up for mother's sake !

Rhea refuses, and they argue, Seteth won't back down, he knows how stubborn she is so at least he will give her his jacket, but while Rhea's pushing him he actually rips his shirt, so they both fall in the cafeteria.

Rhea's sure people will stare and stop having a pleasant meal because of Seteth and his idiocies, but instead of saying "oh the archbishop" there are a lot of people running to a shirtless!Seteth, asking him if he can train them, if he needs squires or if they can become his knights, hell, if he needs assistance to "polish his armor".

Flayn wonders what happened to her dad to barge in the cafeteria without his shirt, maybe it's the crisis of the 3500s, her uncle Indech told her once that when Cichol will reach 3500 he will act weirdly. But she's pretty interested in Rhea's new dress, those designs and patterns look so modern!

"What are you talking about? This is the most traditional Faerghian dress, this design is as old as Faerghus !"

Mercie thinks Flayn wanted to find something to comment on, and doesn't think more about it, while Ashe and Ingrid talk about dresses depicted in various knightly novels, the Maiden of Wind's dress in the edition of 950 had a dress that was judged too "Adrestian", so the verses were modified to remove any part that could make a link with Adrestian fashion.

Sylvain wonders even more seriously if the Lady from his step-mom's painting wasn't related to Lady Rhea, because without the giant crown and robes, they really really really look alike, bar the hair color. But it's just a foolish remark, I mean, no one lives to be that old, besides, you can't really change the color of your hair, right? Flayn didn't get the part about "living that old" but tells Sylvain that yes, she tried to use berries a long time ago to change hair color, but it didn't work that well because she couldn't color the ends, but no one noticed it since yellow and green are close colors.

Sylvain stares at Flayn - the lady in the painting has yellow hair, but with green ends - wait just like Seiros he remembers Ingrid tried to put grass in her hair when they were younger when she was pretending she was Saint Seiros - is Flayn messing with him or ???

Ultimately, Rhea asks Catherine if it is alright to eat here, in the cafeteria, with everyone. Aren't people troubled or stressed because she is here? Catherine replies if anyone is bothered they will talk to her fist, but why is she even thinking she is bothering people? Everyone's happy to spend time with her!

"Even if I don't undress?"

Catherine's mind went blank for a second, what the fuck, what is Lady Rhea saying - who's the bastard who told her she had to undress to make people less anxious, Lady Rhea is too naive - but renews her knightly vows.

Meanwhile, Dimitri had to convince Felix and Dedue to let him join the cafeteria without any shirt on "It will create a commotion your Highness, please reconsider" "Stop being a boar and put clothes on!" "But it worked with the children, as soon as I removed a piece of clothing they stopped being afraid!"

"They weren't afraid they were just blinded by the sun reflected on your armor!"

[three-duck-houses]

@fe-oc-week day 6 - Supports

So I skipped days 4 and 5, Tragedy and Joy, because I really can't work out what to do for them? The only thing she would consider a tragedy is her mum dying the day she turned 11, and she makes an effort to find as much joy as possible in the little every day things, like sun rises and sun sets and clean air and tasty food and being near people she likes. Just too many things to list

For Supports, I don’t tend to think of Nico in terms of fitting her into the game mechanics (with branching paths and joining different classes), it’s more of a linear story that has conversations at various points that I guess could count as Support convos? Though saying that, I know that one and one conversations with most everyone do all happen at one point or another (if Shez and Byleth get to talk to everyone, so does Nico!) however where most of her story is still living in my head as a giant jumble to half cooked ideas and snippets of dialogue... I'll just share what I've already got for a few people

So here's some of my favourite bits of dialogue and short scenes? =3 (and a few scene outlines because my brain Will Not Work properly)

Conversations with Leonie, Hilda, Lorenz, Felix, Shez, Claude, Sylvain

Leonie:

When Nico first gets to the academy - 

“Leonie! Hello darling, it’s great to see you!” she said, reaching out and pulling her friend into a quick hug before stepping back and holding her by her elbows as she gave her an exaggerated once over. “And oooh, look at you! Dressed up all fancy. It really suits you. Give us a twirl? Niiice. Now give me another one so I can check out something other than your ass? And your legs, phew, didn’t think I’d ever see so much of them out in public like this.”

Leonie burst out laughing as she cuts the start of her second spin short and shoves at Nico’s shoulder with a fond eye roll and faint blush. But she’s quickly reminded that they aren’t at Sauin village where everyone knows what they’re like, and are in fact surrounded by strangers when she hears a few other people also laugh while still more splutter from drinking at the wrong moment or make scandalised sounding gasps. And through it all, a laugh she vaguely recognises. She looked round, and found Lady Hilda sitting at the nearby table next to Yellow cape–no, he was Claude, and she was still kinda mad at him–, and she’d half turned towards her to say hi when Leonie’s words made her freeze

“Yeah, I didn’t either, but my uniform choices were this or a dress. It’s surprisingly comfortable, when you get used to it. What have you picked for yours?”

Her eyes snapped back to Leonie, hoping her friend was joking, but no, no it didn’t look like she was.

“Run that by me again? Did you say the options are a skirt or a dress?”

“Huh? Well, yeah. I was pretty miffed about it too, but they seemed kinda strict about it, long held tradition or something.”

She turned to Shez and Byleth, who were watching the conversation with vague interest, and silently asked them what the fuck with a head tilt and brow lift.

“You don't remember us going to see the tailors last night after we talked to Professor Hanneman? Well, we did, and we've picked out what we want, but you were too out of it to pick yourself, so we said we'd go back later today. Oh. They needed your measurements to get started on your shirts, so me and By got them, so they wouldn’t be touching you.”

Well. That was one thing to be thankful for, she supposed, giving Shez a grateful smile, then glancing down at Byleth when she felt a light touch on the back of her hand to find her cousin looking up at her, the faintest of frown lines between her brows, and shifted her smile over into reassuring.

“I’m fine, honest. Just gonna have to talk to them is all.”

“Aww, what’s the matter Nico?” Leonie asked with a laugh in her voice. “You can’t tell me you’re afraid to show a little leg yourself, I’ve seen what you dance in.”

Shaking her head fondly she turned back, noting that Hilda had left her seat and was walking towards them so she needed to wrap this up quickly.

“You know damn well how much of me I’m happy to show, but when you’ve got some free time how about I take you up on Kilani and you can find out how much of a pain in the ass it is to ride a wyvern in a skirt?”

Hilda:

When Nico gets to the monastery, and she’s meeting everyone along with Byleth and Shez, she’s just introduced herself the the Great Lord’s heirs and offered to do anything she can to help them, since she’s employed by Lady Daphnel and trying to build a good rapport with these noble kids - 

"Except you. If you want me to buy you more beads you need to start learning Almyran properly and come with me. I'm not having you yell at me for buying you what you ask me for again."

Hilda laughed, rolling her eyes, then started her familiar argument

"I asked for lapis lazuli seed beads Nico–"

"No, you asked for blue–"

"And you bought me turquoise cut gems–"

"Turquoise is blue! I bought you blue stones with holes in them! I tried, ok? This is why you need to come with me!"

End of Harpstring, after the class’ first main mission in which Nico took an arrow to the back of the shoulder for Claude, and then an axe hit to her arm while pushing Hilda out of the way of an attack. Hilda and Leonie have gone with Nico back to the eyrie to help her unsaddle Kilani, since her arm’s in a sling. Probably their C support? - 

“Nico, why’d you take that hit for me? You know I’m not actually a delicate flower, don’t you?”

“I know, I know. But I still didn’t want to see you get hurt. Even if you could have taken it, it would still have caused you pain, and I just… don’t want to see you hurt. I honestly do like you Hilda, and I’d like to be friends someday.”

“Wait, you think we aren’t friends already?”

“Huh? I mean, um…”

“Nico!”

“I didn’t want to presume! You are a noble after all, and you’ve paid me to run errands and do stuff for you before! I thought you might still see me as a messenger, or like, a merc who works with Holst sometimes.”

Leonie, who was on the other side of the wyvern stall, started sniggering

“Don’t mind her Hilda, Nico’s pretty bad at knowing when she’s made a friend, she asked me if she could call me one after we’d known each other six months.”

“Leonie!!!”

“Haha, I see! In that case yes Nico, we are friends. And I think Marianne and Lysithea would probably say you are too, so how about we all go and get tea together at some point, yeah?”

“Huh? Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

Lorenz:

Lorenz pissed Nico off when they first met because he didn’t like the way she’d talked to Leonie, and reminded her several times that he was a noble who had standards. So when she went back to Daphnel for her first weekend running messages and she offered to take stuff for the rest of the class, she made a point of charging him, since he was a noble, not one of her classmates or friends. This happens shortly after that

“Hey, um, Lorenz? Do you have a second?”

“Yes? What can I do for you?”

“I. I wanted to apologise for the way I spoke to you on Friday,” she said, dropping into a bow and focusing on his shoes, which were of course perfectly polished. “And for all of my conduct towards you so far, in fact. I know I’ve been a real brat towards you, because what you said when we met kinda annoyed me, but that’s no excuse for my frankly terrible behaviour and attitude. You of course aren’t obligated to, but I was wondering if perhaps we could try to start over?”

His feet shuffled in place while he made a vaguely surprised noise, and she could hear their classmates still tidying books and lingering at desks. She hated having to do this in front of them, but, well, she had made the point of charging him for delivering his message and then warping him away to his dad’s office in front of them too, so it was only fair.

“I accept your apology. And as to starting over, ahem. I am Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

She slowly rose up from her bow, looking up and finding him giving her a small, tight looking smile, but it was a smile nonetheless.

“The pleasure is mine Lord Gloucester. I am Nicolita Eisner, but please, call me Nico. Do you think you might be free at all in the next few days to join me for some hot leaf juice, do you think?”

She bit her lip as she watched his eyes fly wide and he started to splutter, colour rushing to his cheeks and looking like he was trying to be a kettle fit to boil over, before he paused, and narrowed his eyes at her. She shrunk down a little, and felt her shoulders hunch despite herself. Yeah, she’d been trying to wind him up by calling it leaf juice, but she did actually want to have tea with him

“Humph. Very well. But I must insist that you refrain from referring to it as such. While I acknowledge that not all of the blends that are generally called tea deserve the title, those blends do have their own proper names, such as tinctures and tisanes. Come along, and I can begin teaching you the differences now.”

Felix:

End of Harpstring, her dead mother’s birthday. Nico has been trying to keep her head down and not interact with people, and Felix has been trying to goad her into sparring despite her and Byleth telling him to stop - this would be C- I think? -

"Tch, what's the matter? Scared to fight me now I know the sort of dirty tricks you like to play? You truly are pathetic"

That makes her snap, spinning to face him and magic sparking out of her, like in one of those static ball things, and leaving faint scorch marks on the floor near her

"For fucks sake Felix! I'd heard Sylvain was the insatiable one who didn't understand the concept of 'no', but were all those rumours really about you instead? Are you really the type of guy to keep pushing and pushing after a girl's turned you down, and ignore all her attempts to politely make you back off? I’m thinking maybe they were, since Sylvain has been nothing but a gentleman since I met him"

Felix is horrified, because of what she's implying. And Sylvain's a little surprised, because er, does she not remember their date?

“I said no. I said I don’t want to. I am now saying to fuck the hell off and leave me alone and just don’t talk to me about anything, ever, you spoiled little noble brat! It’s more than time you grew the fuck up, learned some manners and learned to fucking listen to people other than yourself!”

Later the same day, Nico returns to the monastery from where she’d stormed off, and goes to find Felix in the dining hall - 

"What do you want?" he bites out, and it's an effort to swallow from how dry her mouth suddenly is as she tries to remember what she wanted to say

She bows to him, a full proper one with all the respect he deserves, and says "I'm sorry. I was in a bad mood but I shouldn't have taken it out on you. You did nothing to deserve what I said to you, and my words towards you were completely unwarranted and unjustified, and the insinuation I made was unnecessarily cruel. I truly regret my actions, and any harm I've caused you, and will do whatever you want to make things right, if I can."

She waits, holding the bow, for his reaction, and has to bite her lip to try and hide her flinch when he scoffs

"If you think that drivel you spouted will make everything better–" he starts with a barely suppressed snarl in his voice, and she knows it's rude and will probably make everything worse, but she cuts across him

"No, I don't think it'll make things better. I understand if there is nothing I can ever say or do to make up for the pain I caused you or any damage to your reputation. But in case there is, please know I will say or do whatever you deem necessary to make things right"

Silence. And she internally cringes because it's the sort of silence that means everyone in the hall has stopped and is watching, and if anyone hadn't known what happened before then they'd find out now and this was a terrible idea what was she thinking she was such a fucking moron

"Idiot," Felix spits, followed by a tch of him clicking his tongue. "Go away. I don't want to deal with you right now. You disgust me"

(this one isn’t even dialogue, just how the scene would go, but shhhh, pretend it is?) This would be… either C+ or B I guess? - 

After everyone’s settled down, she goes to Kilani’s saddle bags and pulls out her set of poi, and moves to a bit of the clearing away from Felix, because they still aren’t exactly on the best of terms from the whole insulting him thing, and starts practising. Hits herself a few times, but mostly does ok

She keeps track of the time, and when their shift is over she looks over at Felix, trying to build herself up to face the cold hostility she’s sure she’s about to get from him, but finds him staring at her, looking considering and calculating, and what? Tentatively calls his name, and he blinks a few times, then tch’s, looking away from her. Says her footwork was interesting was all, he was studying it to see if any of it could be applied to his swordsmanship.

She stares at him, because huh. Didn’t expect him to admit that. But her silence seems to bother him, and he shifts, crossing his arms, then huffs loudly.

Asks if she’d be willing to teach him how to do all that, and she’s a little surprised. Because she hadn’t been entirely sure they were back on good terms… They hadn’t interacted much since the whole blow up at him thing?

He tch’s again, and says she had a point, he was wrong, he’s been trying to be better about it. And… he wants to learn how to do what she did. Not just with these balls on strings. But with the moving around in fights. The dodging out of the way, and all the footwork. And he saw her dancing in town, and the moves she used looked... He thinks it’d be useful for his fighting. Please.

It’s the please that gets her. Because wow. Progress!!!

Shez:

So Nico and Shez are pretty close before the game even starts, so it’s difficult to work out what would even count as supports for them. But I really do love this scene so I’mma share it =3

Context is Byleth and Shez started the Ashen Wolves DLC while Nico was away running messages for Judith, only Judith told her to take a few hours off while she wrote supplies so Nico made a giant pool at the Troupes camp and was teaching the kids to swim when she felt Byleth turn back time (long story). So she warped to Byleth while still in her under things, and joined in the fight in that outdoor map below the cathedral bridge, but because of the excess amount of Sothis magic down there her magical senses are dulled, and she kinda hasn’t noticed anyone else who takes part in the DLC are kinda hanging back to stay out of the way of her attacks… - 

A sharp slice across her collarbone as she didn’t step back either quick or far enough, and she hissed in pain, then growled as she felt her top which just got cut through slide down to leave one side of her chest exposed, and then hung loose and distracting off her other shoulder as the knot got stuck in the rings at the back 

“Nico? What’s wro–” Shez’s question dissolved into splutters, and then a grunt of pain, and she glanced over to where she was pretty sure he was to see him sprawled on the floor, cheeks a bright red, and a construct standing over him with an axe.

Sighing, she reached out and waved a hand, shooting ice up from either side of Shez to impale the enemy.

“Oh I’m sorry Shez, don’t tell me you got distracted by my non-existent tits?” she asked sweetly sharp, keeping half an eye on him as he scrambled to his feet

“For the love of–gnnngh! I said it one time, and that was months ago! How are you still not over that yet?”

“You’re right, you did only say I’m flatter than a wash board with grapes nailed to it one time, yeah. But there was another time when you said the only shape I have is because of an excessive amount of ruffles! And maybe I’ll start getting over it when you apologise??”

“What? I already did!”

“Bollocks did you!”

“I did! You were yelling at me in the healers tent and started to cry and stopped as soon as I said I was sorry!”

“When I was in…” She stopped after kicking one of the things in the stomach then spinning round to get the momentum to behead it cleanly. She uses this quick lull in the fight to yank at her top, pulling the knot through the rings so it was free and she could drop it to the floor, where it wouldn't distract her by flapping and shifting and tickling her back

“Shez. Darling. Love. Sweetheart–”

“Uh oh”

“–Light of my life. Did you perhaps apologise to me during the three days I lost because I had a mother fucking concussion from being thrown head first into a tree saving your sorry ass from the giant wolves you pissed off?!”

“. . . well when you put it that way–”

“As soon as we’re done murdering these bitches I’m smacking you upside the head you flaming sack of putrid festering duck shit!”

Claude:

Shahid attacked the Locket while the Goddess’ Rite of Rebirth was going on (because he’d heard someone tried to murder some of the Alliances heirs last month, so the Alliance must be weak right now), so the Deer have to ditch protecting the Sword in order to beat up Shahid. Nico provides some psychological horror to the Almyran’s before warping them all back to the capital, and then has a quick conversation with Nader before sending him back to explain that they’re all going home in one piece this time because of her debt to queen Tia—--

Nico blue screens as she puts together that Tiana is the same name as Oswald’s daughter/Claude mum and the Fodlani born Almyran queen and huh

The next day, when Nico wakes up from her magical overexertion nap and Claude catches her in the eyrie -

“So, about what happened with Nader yesterday. I guess that means you kno–”

She spun around and practically lept towards him, slapping her hand over his mouth as she grabbed his shoulder and pushed him backwards until he hit the wall out of sight of the doorway. She squeezed tighter when his hands seem to instinctively go to her wrist and try to pull her off him, and she had to look away from his eyes and focus on a spot just past his ear when she saw how alarmed, confused, and wary betrayed he was, because it made something in her chest ache something fierce to see how he still didn’t trust her, despite everything. But she pushed that aside for the moment, because he needed to hear this! 

“Look. There is a very fine line between me strongly suspecting something because of facts I’ve pieced together, and me knowing something because someone else has confirmed it. Right now, I can honestly say if anyone asks that I don’t know who or where your parents are. So I need you to be very careful about what you say to me from now on so you don’t tip me suspecting over into me knowing. Understand?”

A light seemed to flicker on behind his eyes, which were darting all over her face as she slowly lifted her hand off his mouth and let go of him, and then he slowly nodded, something like a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips

“Yeah, I understand. I… yeah.”

She nodded at him, then turned to go back to making sure she’d packed all of Kilani’s things properly, but he grabbed her shirt sleeve, gently tugging, and she looked back at him in surprise, because huh?

“Thanks, Nico. For not saying anything yesterday.”

She gave him a look, brows raised and lips quirked, and shook her head with a sigh

“Don’t be dumb, Claude. You don’t need to thank me for something like that. You should know by now I’ll have your back when I can, alright? No matter if that’s from swords, axes, arrows, or info”

~~

And then a few days/a week later, when Judith comes and gets Claude and takes him back to Deidriu to sit in on the Roundtable, Judith brings Nico along too so she can then fly Claude back (so Judith doesn’t have to make the trip there and back again)

And Nico realises that every time she’s spoken Almyran in front of Claude, he’s understood it. And she starts trying to remember all the things she’s said in front of him, and remembers the whole “We could always bribe these three with the literal Prince’s ransom I’ve been offered to track down the youngest prince if you want me to go take that job?” conversation from after Remire

So she goes to find him, and they have a little conversation where she asks him if that was why he didn’t like her at the start of the year, and he’s annoying and reminds her he’s not meant to do or say anything to confirm either way anything she suspects, and she’s very grrrrr at him because he has a point but also she can tell he’s being a wind up, till he laughs and says yeah,  he understood what she said, and while he knew she worked for Judith and she’d said she worked for Gramps, he didn’t know how far her loyalty would last when she was worried about keeping Byleth and her chest rock away from the monastery

And oooooooh, fuck. She’d forgotten she’d talked about that. Yeah, no, not acknowledging that he just said that, moving on

~~

There’s then what would probably be a B support that happens at the White Heron Ball, but I need to rewrite that because I wrote it ages ago and I don’t know if it’ll fit in with various changed I’ve made to the rest now, but tl:dr is Claude asks Nico what she plans to do after they graduate, Nico says not sure, depends what Byleth and Shez do, but probably go back to working for Lady Daphnel at least part of the time, and Claude asks if she’d want to come work for him maybe?

And She kinda does… but she’s got this whole thing about not flirting with people who pay her, and she was really looking forward to trying to flirt with him a little after she wasn’t being paid to kinda look after/keep an eye on him or do whatever he asks her to?

Que conversation where they talk around how they both feel about that, with a few hypotheticals thrown around by both of them ;3

Sylvain:

So what would be their C support (where Sylvain takes her on a date and she doesn’t realise it’s a date because he reminds her so much of one of her troupe cousins and has unconsciously fallen into the sort of banter she has with that cousin) is a giant mess of half formed ideas and half written conversations which I can’t share

But their B- support happens after the Gronder fight, because Nico did something stupid to save some people from the troupe as the students made their way back towards the monastery and completely drained herself of magic and gets stuck in bed (she shares a room with Byleth because reasons) and is bored - 

Nico is stuck in bed for 3 days after they get back. She is bored stupid, but light and sounds are still hurting, and she can only just get herself up and to the toilet without help, so classes are out of the question. But she's finding Manuela was right, and stuffing her face with as many cakes and sweets and sugar as possible is helping immensely, and she's getting plenty of them whenever people visit her

She's laying in bed trying to focus on a book Ashe and Ingrid recommended to her when someone knocks on the door, then opens it without waiting for a reply. It's Sylvain carrying a tray loaded with a tea set and covered plates. He puts it down on the side table Byleth found for exactly that, since she can't even handle going to the dining hall to eat, while Nico slowly gets herself sat up

"You could have waited for me to say come in," she scolds playfully, trying not to laugh at his pout and puppy eyes. "What if I was getting changed or something?"

His pout turns into a crooked grin, and his eyebrows dance a few times.

"Then I would have enjoyed the free show," he smarms, and laughs as he dodges the small cushion she throws at him. "Careful. You'll knock over the tea"

"Uh huh. So. Not that I'm complaining, but who are you using me as an excuse to hide from?"

"What?" he draws out, playing at being offended, the doofus. "Can't I visit my dear bed bound friend without having some sort of ulterior motive?"

"I don't know. Can you?"

He manages to hold his fake offended expression for a few seconds against her flatly amused one, before he laughs, shaking his head as he settles on the edge of the bed

"Ingrid was trying to get me to train with her, but I really was planning on coming to see you anyway. Wondered if you wanted to practice chess, but you don't look entirely with it"

- Sylvain ends up sitting/laying next to her in the bed and letting her lean against him as he reads to her since she's having trouble focusing but the book has occasional pictures she likes to look at, and somehow he's way more comfy than Byleth to lay on??? She thinks it's the boobs, she tells Sylvain solemnly, and it sets him off laughing so hard he has to lay back with his arm over his face for a minute or two. He keeps having to nudge her to remind her to eat because she's sort of dozing off, and refilling her tea and making her drink

- Byleth comes in the room, looking like she’s been in the training hall, and her brow goes up when she sees them, making them both laugh. Byleth starts moving around the room putting her things away, and Nico scoots over towards the wall, tugging Sylvain, and tells By to join them, Sylvain's doing storytime. Sylvain tries to protest, because this seems kinda weird, but Nico pouts at him and asks "Why, don't you want to share a bed with two beautiful ladies?"

"Yeah Sylvain," Byleth agrees in an even more deadpan than usual voice while her eyes sparkle with mischief, walking back to the bed and leaning down next to them, one hand resting on the headboard. "I thought you'd jump at the chance to get us both in bed?"

"Do I need to come back later?" Shez's flat voice drifts in from the doorway, surprising all of them, and Nico is the first to burst out laughing only to immediately wince and stop and clutch her head, burying her face again Sylvain with a groan

Byleth keeps laughing lightly as she grabs Shez before he can leave, dragging him and the fresh tray of tea and cakes into the room. Nico groans again when she sees it, turning her face back into Sylvain's shoulder

"I hate to admit it, but I'm getting kinda tired of cakes. I think I maybe even want a vegetable"

Shez gasps, and she opens an eye to glare at the overly shocked face he's making

"Who are you and where's the real Nico?"

- Shez ends up joining them and sitting at the foot of the bed and all three of them bully Sylvain into continuing story time

[fodlaneverafter]

FEA character mini-analyses: blue lions as royals

Here is part 2 of explaining why I cast characters the way I did in FEA (my ongoing 3H/EAH crossover fic)! Part 1, about the Black Eagles, is linked here.

Now without further ado, let us begin!

Dedue as Hunter Huntsman: even though canon Dedue wasn't raised with Dimitri, his loyalty does suit the Huntsman's duty toward Snow White. And that's not even the half of it. Hunter's love of nature, his friendliness with animals? Such a Dedue thing. Plus, they're both axe wielders. That has to count for something.

Felix as the Charmings: I know no one could've seen this coming out of the left field--I certainly didn't. Now, Felix may not have the razzle-dazzle of Daring, or the awkward sweetness of Dexter, or the epic heroism of Darling, or... any sort of charm whatsoever, but hear me out, this is about the call of duty, yeah? It would make sense for Felix to despise the corruption of chivalry if he lost his brother to it. (Oh, and yes, of course, Glenn dies in this AU too!) This puts him in a precarious position as a Royal, since it looks like he could be swayed to the Rebel side, but let's be honest; bro's always been like that anyway.

Sylvain as Hopper Croakington III: he's... *gestures wildly* HE'S A TOAD. Having to be kissed in order to change back into a human is more Sylvain than anything else in the fairytale world. As a human, his personality is very much the opposite of Hopper's though, so in honor of that, and also because I delight in clowning Sylvain, he becomes panicky and clumsy in frog form. Only pain for Sylvain.

Ingrid as the O'Hair twins: Ingrid's dedication to her knightly duties mirrors Holly's dedication to mastering her destiny. I honestly can't say she's anything like Poppy though, other than their down-to-earth vibes. I don't know, I just felt like that long blonde hair worked well as a Rapunzel thing, okay?

Annette as Ashlynn Ella: oh now THIS is where it gets good. As the daughter of Cinderella and a Royal, Annette's every perfectionist, ambitious, overachieving quality can be maximized to their full potential, and I just love that. Not to mention, her absent father being a Cinderella thing? Stepsisters who would make her feel like she always needs to prove herself to be taken seriously? Her weird love of cleaning? Such a Cindy vibe.

Ashe as Blondie Lockes: I struggled with Ashe for a long time, but Blondie's lockpicking talents, earnest ways, and innocent-girl front were what eventually got me. And yes, I am aware. Ashe has no head of gold. But with that heart of gold, isn't anything possible? Huh, maybe I should've made him the son of Robin Hood... *remembers Sparrow* Never mind.

Mercedes as Farrah Goodfairy: the greatest tragedy in casting the FEA characters was that Mercie was too old to fit into a high school setting, no matter how I tried. But literally what would she be if not a fairy godmother! She's very powerful but unable to access most of her abilities, simply because of destiny. As a Royal, she's not bothered by this, which only slightly echoes her passive attitude toward her canon backstory, but we take what we can get. Anyway, it's also a perfect reason for why she's best friends with Annette.

And that, my folksies, is that!

The Blue Lions have such iconic dynamics, and I needed to preserve as much of those as I could through these castings. They've got that Royal story, and they do it so well.

Next up: Golden Deer!