Chapter Text
Dimitri couldn't help it; on the day set for Felix’s arrival, he sat in his office with the large windows that faced the main entrance and watched. At every movement in the courtyard, every arrival of a figure on horseback, his attention was drawn back to the people coming and going below.
It had been nearly three moons since he last saw Felix. The seasons had changed in his absence, but the movement of the days couldn't cover the gaps he left in Dimitri's life.
He knew, rationally, that he should be as normal about this as possible. Felix wouldn't want fanfare; he wouldn't want attention drawn to him at all. He might not even want to spend all that much time around Dimitri - even if their misunderstanding was just that, it still stung. It had hurt them both, and there was plenty that would take time to recover.
That fact couldn't stop him from jumping from his chair when he saw familiar blue regalia in a small group - at a quick count, there were no more than five of them including Felix, but that was usual for him. He'd packed light, clearly, and if Dimitri didn't get down there soon, he'd slip into the castle ungreeted.
"Felix!" he called, his voice nearly swallowed by the pounding of his feet against stone when he reached the base of the stairs by the stable-side entrance. Felix looked up, shielding his hands against the glaring sunlight, and Dimitri's heart stopped for a moment.
He didn't look good. He was thinner than he had been when he left Fhirdiad, Dimitri thought, and there were faint smudged shadows under his eyes. He was scowling, and he looked uncomfortable; was it the light, the long ride, or something else?
He looked terrible, but the only thing Dimitri could see was Felix, brown eyes and dark hair and the same fluffy hood he wore everywhere, regardless of how many times he was told that he didn't need to wear combat-ready clothing anymore. He looked tired. He looked beautiful.
"Did you travel well?" Dimitri asked. He wanted to sweep down the stairs and lift Felix from the ground, swinging him around. He would complain, loudly. He wouldn't like it.
So Dimitri's hands remained clenched at his sides, and his feet stayed fixed at the top of the stairs as Felix climbed them, taking two at a time in his effort to get away from the stables. "It was as good as a long ride on horseback can be," he grumbled. He still shielded his eyes like the sun would attack him if he lowered his guard.
"Good, then," he answered, shooting Felix a knowing look.
Felix's only response was a snort as he brushed past Dimitri, working his way towards the doors. Their arms touched, and Dimitri tried not to react. "I just want to get inside," he said. "Collect some propriety; people are staring already."
"Oh!" Dimitri should have known - he glanced around and, just as Felix said, half the work in the stable grounds had stopped in favour of looking at Dimitri making a minor fool of himself. "My apologies. After you."
"Gladly." Felix didn't even look back, slinging his bag fully over his left arm as he finished climbing the stairs. Dimitri followed, taking the steps three at a time in an effort to catch up.
He didn't want to let Felix out of his sight just yet. If he did, Dimitri felt sure he may well just vanish again.
Dimitri followed him all the way down the hallways that led to Felix's once-abandoned quarters. They'd been kept much as they had been when he left them, on Dimitri's orders. Even when he gave up entirely, he kept them as they were - just in case.
Felix didn't turn around again until he reached the door, didn't say a word. Dimitri wanted to say it was because it was like they'd never been separated, but that would be a lie.
He didn't know why Felix stayed silent. He wanted to know why, but he didn't dare broach it. He didn't know what might scare him off again.
"Why are you still here?" Felix asked. "Don't you have a country to rule?"
Dimitri coughed into his hand. He'd missed this. "I've barely been gone for ten minutes," he said; the truth. Felix couldn't argue with that.
Felix could argue with anything if he put his mind to it. "You should really stop making such a big deal of this," he grumbled. His hand was on the doorknob; he could turn it at any time, vanish from Dimitri's sight once more. He hadn't, yet, and maybe that was what spurred him onwards.
"I won't make a big deal out of it," he said. He offered up a smile that went unreturned, but the frown on Felix's face eased up a little. "You can have my word on that. But if you would let me, I would like to say one more thing before I return to my work."
"What?" Felix's eyes were guarded, dangerous. Dimitri knew that, for now, there was no going back to the softness they once held.
"I'm very glad to see you back."
For a while, everything was normal. There was paperwork to be done, letters to answer, and pleas to read and respond to. Dimitri paraded in and out of endless meetings that mostly talked in circles and occasionally decided something of note.
It was the same as when Felix was gone, except Felix was now there - in other words, it changed everything.
They weren't exactly what they once were. As a monarch and advisor, they worked just as seamlessly as they always had; they butted heads frequently, arguing over every detail. Felix was a voice of wisdom and a source of endless criticism, exactly the kind of person Dimitri needed at his side.
Still, he was hard and angry. Not in the kind, stern way, but in the way where he chewed people out if they made even a single error and kept a knife at his belt. It was like the end of the war, but not quite.
It was a development. A step back. A spiral staircase, but Dimitri didn't know if he was trying to reach the top or bottom, or where Felix was on the steps. He tried not to think too hard about it - it was better (easier. So much easier) than just before Dimitri suggested Felix leave. It was leagues better than during the letter sending.
And they kept going. Slowly, gradually, they sank back into the way they used to work together, words coming more easily, tongues less sharp. And maybe, as the days passed, Dimitri could hope that Felix was feeling a little better.
The hope grew, dancing at the back of his mind, singing in his heart, until he couldn't keep it in any longer. He looked at Felix one afternoon—sun streaming through the windows, the furrow in his brow gone—and he had to speak. "It seems like you're doing better these days," he said, fondness leaking into his voice.
Felix's movements stilled, his pen frozen above the paper. Dimitri watched, heart sinking, as the ink from its tip dripped onto the paper. Once, twice, before Felix blinked and put himself back together, eyes turning to Dimitri in a steely glare. "You shouldn't bring it up."
Dimitri knew that. He'd been told. Felix had said in multiple ways that he didn't want to talk about what happened, or how he was doing in the wake of it - whatever it was. He didn't want people holding his actions to a marker somewhere.
But he couldn't help it. When Felix was distant, when Felix was gone, Dimitri was—
Well, it was more like Dimitri wasn't.
"I understand," Dimitri said. He folded his hands in his lap to hide the fidgeting. "But please, give me a chance to explain from my perspective."
Felix put his pen down, turning fully in his chair. "Alright," he said, not meeting Dimitri's eyes. He stared resolutely down at his own hands, fidgeting with his belt. "Explain away."
"I was worried." Felix's movements gained speed. "You were... far away. Closed off. I didn't know what had happened, only that you were unhappy. It is selfish of me, and I should not go against your wishes in this, but I simply do not wish for this to happen again."
Felix nodded, his movements still slightly stilted. Like he didn't agree and was just telling himself how he should respond.
"I know I overstepped," Dimitri said. Felix nodded again. "My apologies."
Felix's fists clenched around the fabric of his cape. "Don't back down so easily, I keep telling you that."
He didn't sound quite normal, but Dimitri couldn't expect that. He just chuckled, knowing he couldn't sound okay either. "I thought that was for diplomatic interactions, not personal ones."
Felix rose to the bait, his eyes full of fire when he finally, finally looked up. "Am I not worthy of kingly diplomacy?"
Dimitri smiled. Felix smiled back, and then it faltered. "You're right," he said. Dimitri inclined his head. "It's fine to be worried. Fine not to want it to happen again."
"Thank you." It was good to hear, even if the other confirmation (he was right to worry) rattled in his chest.
"I still don't want to talk about it." Felix's eyes had drifted again. "But-" He bit down hard on his lip. "The time and distance from everything has helped. I do- feel a bit better. So you were right. I suppose."
The bright smile that spread across Dimitri's face came so, so easily. "I'm glad to hear it," he said. "And I'm happy to hear no more about it from you. For now."
"For now," Felix echoed. There was a laugh in his tone, perhaps.
"I may well check on it again in future," Dimitri admitted. He didn't think it was reasonable to push it out of his mind. "If you are amenable to that."
Felix nodded, the action still stilted. But it was there. He wasn't refusing. "Yeah," he said. "Sure. You can do that."
Naturally, Dimitri's smile grew ever brighter.
Perhaps the part of their lives where Felix’s lack of progress (Dimitri hated calling it that, but he could think of no other description) was most evident was at formal events.
They were an unfortunate necessity of the way they operated within the Kingdom - there were nobles to appease, and getting them around a table was practically inviting them to waste time. By contrast, putting them in a room specifically to waste time tended to be rather more productive.
Felix had never liked those events, per say—he disliked anything of the sort—but he’d usually tolerated them. There were plenty of ways to make them go better and smoother, and its absence was one of the first things Dimitri noticed.
He was tense, standing in the corner of the room and watching as others moved around him. Dimitri had managed to persuade him not to visibly carry a weapon (he was fairly certain Felix had a knife hidden somewhere, but taking a precaution against assassination attempts was acceptably pragmatic), but that didn’t stop him from scanning the crowds.
It hadn’t stopped him from keeping an almost obsessive eye on the guest list, either. Dimitri didn’t know what he was looking for, but Felix had remained resolutely in charge of it. He hadn’t even crossed any names off or raised too many eyebrows (he’d been a little incredulous at some of the guests, of course, but that was Felix’s job. Dimitri wouldn’t have it any other way); he’d just watched.
It all pointed to one thing in particular, and Dimitri could barely even bring himself to think about it. Instead, he watched, dread building, as one of the serving staff drifted towards him to offer a glass of wine. Felix—who hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol all night—refused it, despite the tense line to his shoulders.
He’d always told Dimitri that the only feasible way to survive a stuffy gathering was with a minimum of one and a maximum of two glasses of wine. But he supposed that was advice Felix followed no more.
Dimitri tried not to think about it. Tried not to overthink it, because he couldn’t keep it out of his head.
But the last time he and Felix drank together, the last time they could stand as a pair and Dimitri felt there was something more…
Why did it always have to come back to that night? The moment when something went wrong, because something had to have happened then. There was no other explanation for how suddenly everything had changed.
It had to be something Dimitri did. There was no other way to understand Felix’s changing mood, changing behaviour. He’d ruined this somehow, with gentle words shared in quiet moments between them, and he didn’t know how.
Watching Felix, he couldn’t fathom it. The man was right in front of him, not miles away in his own territory. He still consented to being in Dimitri’s presence, didn’t even seem to hate it as much as he hated something like this.
But Dimitri knew. ‘Something like this’ was where it had all changed. He had no idea what he’d done, why it had shifted everything so suddenly for the worse, but it gripped him with a horrible certainty.
He’d destroyed this. That truth sat heavy in his chest, crawling up to his throat, and he needed to know how. Needed to know why, so he could stop it from ever happening again.
The second thing Dimitri wanted most in the world was to be close to Felix. The first was Felix’s continued happiness. If he couldn’t have both, he needed to know.
“Felix.” His feet moved practically without his permission, carrying him across the ballroom to where Felix stood, eyes still warily surveying the crowds. His arms crossed in front of his chest, his fingers digging grooves into the velvet of his jacket.
Uncomfortable, as Dimitri already knew. His eyes snapped to Dimitri’s in an instant, flickering with surprise and—with a horrific certainty Dimitri could not push aside—fear. “Did you want something?”
His voice was careful, guarded. Dimitri hated that they still had to dance around each other like this. Instead of voicing anything of the sort, he nodded, trying not to let his worries show on his face. “I wondered if you’d take a moment with me outside the crowds - just for a short while.”
Felix’s eyes flickered between Dimitri and the guests, then over to the door out onto a balcony. His shoulders tensed, his jaw tightened.
He was going to refuse. He would always refuse, because Dimitri had hurt him somehow in the same way, moons ago. Dimitri couldn’t blame him for not agreeing.
Felix’s gaze flickered back and forth again, his teeth worrying his bottom lip. Once, the action would have driven Dimitri to a flustered distraction, but now all he could do was flounder in the fears building in his gut.
“Fine,” Felix said eventually. His arms uncrossed. “But make it quick.”
Somehow, Felix was even tenser by the time they got away from prying eyes and ears. With only the gardens laid out below them and the skies stretching above, Felix pulled his cloak closer around him and Dimitri pretended not to notice the way his hands shook even as they dug into the fur trim.
He didn’t know where to start. Did he begin with an apology? A question? He didn’t know. Sometimes, he felt as if he knew nothing of Felix anymore.
“Why did you summon me out here?” Felix asked. His voice was colder than the night air, and Dimitri hated it. What happened to their warmth? What happened, even, to the uneasy truce they’d settled into since Felix’s return?
“You didn’t seem to be enjoying the party,” Dimitri began.
Felix scoffed. “Do I have to enjoy those things?”
“Most people do.” Dimitri didn’t, in all honesty, but they had their moments. He certainly hated them less than Felix seemed to.
“I think you would have noticed by now that I’m not really ‘most people.’”
Dimitri allowed himself a chuckle, and Felix relaxed minutely. That, at least, made him a little bolder. “Your tenseness reminded me of something.”
“Oh?” Curiosity; another encouraging sign. Still, he knew Felix wouldn’t like what came next. He never did.
There was no way around it. If he wanted to know what had happened, lay his uneasy mind to rest, he needed to ask this. Even if Felix didn't want to hear it, didn't want to speak the answer, Dimitri had to try. "Did I do something wrong that night?"
Felix pointedly averted his eyes. Dimitri hadn't said which night he was referring to, but Felix knew. He had to know. "Why are you asking? Do you need the answer?"
“Please, Felix. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need to know. I know you don’t-”
“Don’t what?” There was a challenge in Felix’s voice. His guard, only minutely lowered before, was back up.
Dimitri let out a shaky sigh. “You don’t like talking about this, so I didn’t want to ask you. But I had to.”
Felix released his cloak from his grip and moved his hands to the railing. Dimitri mirrored his actions, trying to steady himself. These conversations were too hard for both of them. This was the wrong time to have it, when they both had duties within the castle.
But Dimitri knew. He wouldn’t be able to focus on a single bit of the nonsense the nobles wanted to talk about unless he heard the truth. “Please answer the question, Felix. I’m ready for the answer, whatever it may be.”
He wasn’t. If Felix told him it was his fault, he’d be in pieces no matter what kind of qualifier came with it. But without the answer, he’d make the obvious assumption, and that one wasn’t any better.
Dimitri watched as Felix visibly sucked in a breath, gripped tighter to the rail in front of him, and forced his posture to relax. When he let out that carefully composed breath, it released in a shuddering sigh. "We're both disasters," he said.
Dimitri managed a weak chuckle. He didn't think he could summon anything more. "I suppose we are."
Felix nodded. Gripped the rail even tighter, tight enough that Dimitri wondered if the stone might crumble under his fingertips. "Tell me what's really wrong."
Dimitri closed his eyes. Distantly, he could hear the sounds of the party, but underlying all that…
He couldn’t hide from Felix. Felix always knew when he was lying, when there was something he didn’t want others to know. Sometimes it was gratifying to be seen so completely.
At times like this, it was closer to terrifying. Because even if Felix knew that something lay deep beneath this, that didn’t mean he knew what it was - and it definitely didn’t mean that he’d like the answer.
“When you were gone,” Dimitri began, keeping his eyes closed against Felix’s oncoming scorn, “I worried. I’ve told you as much before.” He pressed his palms harder into the cool stone. It didn’t help to calm him. “But when you vanished completely…”
He shook his head. Next to him, Felix stayed silent as a sentinel. Dimitri could see his tense form without even looking. “In my darkest moments, I thought you dead. You- at night, sometimes your figure appeared amongst the ghosts of those I’ve lost.”
It was the wrong thing to say, even if it was the truth. If necessary, Dimitri had wanted to impart it in a warm room, with cups of tea between them. Felix’s favourite, perhaps, to make difficult words sting less. He’d never wanted it to emerge like this, the shame and fear of those most difficult moments of their time apart.
“You-” Dimitri’s eyes snapped open, and Felix’s furious face appeared before him once more. He hadn’t expected anything less. “I was sick, not dead. I would never- you don’t get to use me. Your head doesn’t get to use me to- to torture you.”
“I know, Felix. I know.” How could he not? The knowledge just didn’t change anything.
“This is why being close to you-” Felix cut himself off, but Dimitri knew what he had planned to say. There was no getting around it.
A mistake. Their closeness was nothing more than a mistake to him.
"I was worried, just as I told you!" He didn't want to raise his voice. Shouldn't raise his voice. But Felix was right here, and alive, and refusing to set Dimitri's mind just a little at ease. "I am still worried. I just want to help."
Felix didn’t answer for a long while. He stared into the distance, his hands clutching tighter at the stone beneath him. Dimitri tried not to think about every movement, every breath, but he wasn’t going to just leave.
He could never ignore Felix. He’d never been able to, and he never would. So he stood in silence as Felix tried, again and again, to wrestle his breathing back under control. He watched as he failed, over and over.
Finally, he spoke. "To answer your question," he said, voice halting, "no. No, it was nothing you did."
Dimitri breathed out and it felt like half the weight on his shoulders had vanished into the night air. It was nothing he did. He hadn't done anything wrong. When Felix shied away, it wasn't from him. Instead...
"But something happened?" There had to be something. If it was nothing, then Felix had decided to distance himself from Dimitri because of something else, and then...
Dimitri couldn't think about that. It would send him spiralling down the same dark path as before.
The silence stretched between them in the darkness for a little longer. Dimitri tore his eye from Felix's pained face, and that was when he realised. "Felix, you're shaking."
Felix hurriedly tucked his hands into his jacket. "No I'm not," he replied. "And to answer your question, yes, something happened."
Dimitri nodded. There was a shuddering relief within him, perhaps, a confirmation of something he already knew. A dreadful truth but, finally, the truth. A step towards Felix being able to talk about it. "I'm thankful you told me."
Felix snorted. "It isn't a big deal. You don't have to get like that on me."
But it was a 'big deal.' Felix was still shaking. His breathing was still uneven, and it was because of Dimitri. He felt bad, light, elated, guilty, all at the same time.
He didn't know where to go from here, but calling attention to Felix's lie wouldn't do either of them any good. They'd both pushed too far today - it was time for the conversation to end, before it ended Dimitri.
"Do you want to go back?" he asked, nodding his head towards the light, the throngs of people. Somewhere safe from one on one scrutiny; maybe Felix would feel better there, maybe he'd be able to settle back into something close to normal now he'd had a break.
Instead, Felix shook his head. "I'd rather go to bed."
Dimitri nodded, hoping he kept his surprise concealed. It wasn't usual for Felix to admit to something that could be construed as a weakness, even if Dimitri would never see it as such. "I hope you rest well."
Felix nodded, his whole form stiff. He turned, looked at the door, and then turned back to Dimitri. He didn't meet his eyes; Dimitri didn't mind. He was used to that from Felix, and if it made him comfortable he wouldn't have it any other way.
"Will you walk back with me?" The words were quiet, but Dimitri couldn't mistake them. In spite of himself, his eyes widened. After everything, he didn't think Felix would request such a thing, but as he had...
Dimitri would have to return to the party at some point. That was unavoidable; he was the host, and if there was one thing he could never do it was disappear with another person before a party's conclusion and not return. But Felix had asked, and there was nothing stopping Dimitri from going back.
"Of course," he answered, hoping Felix hadn't picked up on his moment of hesitation.
"Good." With that, Felix turned back to the doors once more, striding through the crowds like they weren't even there. In turn, the partygoers melted away in front of him, not daring to get in his way - or maybe Dimitri's way, or perhaps a bit of both.
Felix kept a fast pace, but one Dimitri could easily match. Even as he drew level with Felix's strides, nothing was said between them - the only sound in the space was the ever-fading one of the gathering in the ballroom and the wind rattling the windows.
They didn't encounter anyone, all the staff long since gone for the night or busy with the event. Still, the silence between them was companionable rather than awkward. They'd talked enough tonight to fill that silence with thoughts.
Dimitri reached Felix's quarters with no further incident. He watched, heart thudding for what could only be no reason, as Felix hesitated with his hand on the door's handle.
"You can go back to the ballroom now," Felix said. He still didn't meet Dimitri's eyes, and he shifted from one foot to the other even as he stood there. "You don't want to stick around with me for too long."
All at once, Dimitri was struck with that possibility from moons ago: something more. Something bigger, something closer. Maybe, if Felix had been in Fhirdiad all this time, that possibility would be more immediate than ever before. Maybe Dimitri would be able to smile and wink, maybe chuckle, and Felix would blush. Maybe he'd invite Dimitri inside.
Maybe, maybe, maybe. They were all maybes, broken apart on a night so much like this one. And Dimitri could do nothing to change that, not with so many moons of distance between then and now, between himself and Felix.
"You're right, I should probably get back." He offered Felix half a smile, and Felix made it whole.
"Goodnight, Dimitri."
"Goodnight, Felix."
He disappeared into his room. He didn't say thank you, but Dimitri thought he understood anyway.
And maybe there was still a lot left unsaid. Maybe Dimitri said the wrong things that night, but it didn't seem to have ruined everything. Felix's fleeting anger was just that - a moment, justified rage at a hurt and injustice that couldn't be undone.
Dimitri couldn't blame himself for it - he wasn't perfect, and neither was Felix. All of this came from their mistakes, but now they were out in the open. No more hiding; just movement, slow and steady. Because there were still moons of distance between them, but Dimitri liked to think they were getting a little closer to breaching the gap.
Things got better after that. Not always noticeably so, but Dimitri could feel it: the exchange was a difficult conversation they needed to have. However Felix felt about the words they shared, it had signalled something.
For Dimitri, it was a step irreversibly in the right direction. Before, back when Felix was gone—even when he returned—there was a weight that hung over him with every passing minute. The knowledge that he had failed somewhere vital, and he didn’t know what. The fear that something he did was the cause of all the pain, the discord that shattered their fragile bonds.
It was, as his darkest thoughts sometimes were, just an assumption that worked against him far more than it should have. But he had proof now, words from Felix’s mouth, and it made all the difference.
They were moving in the right direction. Of that, Dimitri could be certain.
It didn’t mean that things never went wrong.
Dimitri wasn’t surprised, not really, that one of those moments came at the ball to commemorate the completion of another successful harvest. With every year that passed, the crowds became larger, the celebration more lavish. The people of Faerghus—the people of Fódlan—suffered less as the years marched on from war. The fields, once stained with blood, recovered.
Even if it marked the best of times, the gladdest tidings possible in a country once racked by scarcity, Felix was still tense. He stood, as always, on the fringes of everything. He tried not to interact with people when he couldn’t help it.
But that was fine. Felix had never been known for being social, and there were plenty of other people socialising for everyone to stay entertained. No one begrudged Felix his eccentricities, and the party continued as normal.
Everything was fine, until that moment.
Dimitri's back was to the eruption when it happened, but he knew as soon as it did. There was a sudden silence, a stillness unlike any other, and then the room burst into outraged noise.
Logically, Dimitri knew before he even turned what he would find when he did. Practically, there was no way for him to know, but there was only one kind of thing that could provoke such a reaction, and only one person he knew who was willing to do it at the harvest festival's ball.
So it came as no surprise for him to see a loose circle having formed around one Duke Felix Hugo Fraldarius, who stood above a rather unfortunate noble who'd just been knocked flat on his back.
Honestly, Dimitri would rather have liked to see the moment as it happened. But if he had, he might have laughed, and then he'd be in even more of a terrible position than he was already. As it was, he now had a minor domestic incident to solve, and he knew what he wanted the answer to be. He also knew that it would end with someone very, very angry.
The noble rose to his feet nearly instantly, practically screaming as he faced Felix down (from the kind of distance where most would think Felix wouldn't be able to knock him over within five seconds again - Dimitri knew better, but this noble clearly did not). "How dare you assault me like that, and in front of all these witnesses!"
Dimitri didn't have to be close to hear his words, but he had to be far closer to hear Felix's response, his voice low and certain. Fortunately enough, no one objected to the King wanting to be near an incident like that as it unfolded. "I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't assaulted me first."
The man spat, his saliva hitting the ballroom floor. Dimitri very nearly told him off for making the servants clean up something so disgusting, but somehow he thought it wouldn't go down well. "Why would I have assaulted you?" the man asked, puffing out his chest and standing straight. He was taller than Felix but didn't look it, even as he stood like that.
He looked pathetic, and he looked like he knew it. Dimitri couldn't help but wonder why he would assault Felix in a manner grave enough to provoke such a retaliation. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.
But he knew, as the man spat again and stormed out of the ballroom, that he would have to. As the murmuring restarted once more, rising ever higher in volume and anger, half the eyes in the ballroom fell on Dimitri. Every single one was expectant; they wanted a resolution, and they wanted it soon.
The only person in the room who didn't look at him was Felix. Instead, he stared after the man who'd left, his eyes never leaving the ballroom door.
Dimitri didn't want to do this. Felix was his friend, his closest advisor. He didn't want to treat him as a suspect in the kind of quarrel that broke out between nobles at every event.
But he had to do something, and he hated it.
"Felix," Dimitri said. How could he keep his voice gentle enough that Felix would know he hadn't turned on him (he'd close off if he thought that - Dimitri knew, had experience in it), yet firm enough that people would think he was taking this seriously?
Sometimes, Dimitri thought he wasn't built for politics. Seeing Felix finally stare up at him, his eyes a mix of rage and, unfathomably, fear, was one of them.
"Your Majesty." His tone was terse, his body tight. They couldn't do this here; Felix would never speak. Dimitri wouldn't want all the Kingdom's nobility and gentry to hear it, either. They were all here for fun, and he wouldn't let Felix be a part of it.
"Would you be able to join me in private for a moment?"
A murmur rose around them. Accusations of favourable treatment, Dimitri was sure, but the other noble had removed himself quickly enough. It was only fair.
In turn, Felix hesitated, his eyes darting between the crowds, Dimitri, and the ballroom door. "Fine."
In that moment, as they made their way through the whispering crowd and out of the ballroom, headed for the relative privacy of the gardens, Felix reminded Dimitri a little of one of those children's toys. Like he was wound up so tightly that, at the barest touch, he’d spring into action.
It didn’t lessen in the slightest once they were out of the ballroom. The darkness of the gardens provided shelter and shadow where Felix’s expressions could hide away from light filtering down from the chandelier, but it couldn’t hide the defensive set to his form.
“We’ve been walking long enough,” Felix snapped. The ballroom’s windows were firmly out of view, hidden behind thick hedges. “You wanted to talk to me, so do it.”
He kept his hands away from where the knife was concealed, but his hands remained firmly shoved in the pockets of his jacket. Dimitri could imagine the stretched-tight skin over his knuckles without seeing those clenched fists.
He had to do something about this, before Felix once more retreated from view.
“What happened?”
Felix looked up. Dimitri couldn’t read his expression, but he hoped his frankness encouraged him. “You wouldn’t believe me.”
That struck true far more than the ever-present knowledge of the hidden knife could. Felix didn’t think he’d believe him. Felix thought his words would be taken as lies, even though he was-
Well, Felix did lie. Dimitri couldn’t trust everything that came from his mouth, but he knew he could trust this. He could always trust Felix to tell the harsh truth about another when it mattered.
“I will believe every word you say,” Dimitri said. He did his best to maintain eye contact, and for once Felix didn’t shy away. “I will have to hear the version of events from your… disgruntled peer, but I trust your account.”
"Fine," Felix said. Dimitri waited in silence for a moment, before Felix sighed. "Give me a minute."
"Of course." Dimitri nodded, trying not to watch the way Felix struggled to get his breathing under control too closely. "As long as you need."
Eventually, Felix opened his mouth again. "He asked me to dance, which was fine," he said. Felix's preferences were no secret to Dimitri, and barely more of one to the court - there was nothing unusual about such a request, especially not at a dance. "But when we were dancing..."
He shook his head. "His hand was very low on my back. Nearly on my backside. And he danced far closer than anyone normally would, and then-" He stopped again, wrestling the pace of his breathing back under control. "When the dance ended, he accompanied me to the edge of the ballroom, and his hand went between my thighs.
"It could have been a mistake," he admitted, and Dimitri nodded. That was certainly what the noble would argue, if he admitted to touching Felix at all. "But it didn't feel that way. So I knocked his feet out from under him. I didn't think, and I imagine he'll want me to apologise, but-"
"You won't be apologising." Dimitri knew better than to touch Felix, not when he was like this, but he could still make a difference. "I believe you; if I'm able to get through listening to him without sending him out of Fhirdiad entirely, he will be the one apologising to you."
In response, Dimitri expected Felix to puff up a little with pride. Perhaps he'd say he was glad Dimitri saw reason, and that he couldn't wait to see the disgraced noble grovelling at his feet.
Dimitri should have known to expect the unexpected from Felix by now.
Felix deflated on the spot. He practically sank onto the nearby bench, his shoulders hunched over and his head in his hands.
Dimitri waited a moment, his eyes averted, before he approached. Slowly, with loud footsteps just to give Felix the chance to leave. When he didn’t, he settled down on the other end of the bench and waited.
Felix didn’t like crying. Dimitri had barely ever seen him do it in the past decade - it was resolved only for his greatest frustrations, or the most private moments. If he did cry particularly often these days, it was done in private.
Even now, he didn’t cry. When Felix removed his hands from his eyes, they were barely wet, and his shoulders shook with what could only be the effort of holding back those feelings.
When the motion stopped, when the wind settled into silence once more, Dimitri took the plunge. His voice came out quieter than he expected, but with no other sounds around them it didn’t matter. Felix definitely heard.
“Felix, has this… happened before?”
For a moment, everything was perfectly still. Felix said nothing. Dimitri said nothing. The silence persisted, and no one moved.
Then, in a short, sharp movement, Felix nodded. Before Dimitri even had the chance to respond, he stood without a word and moved, his pace fast, back towards the castle. He wasn’t headed back to the entrance to the party.
In that instant, it didn’t occur to Dimitri to follow him. The admission had frozen something within him, striking him with a deadly certainty: this had happened before. Under his eyes, under his power, Felix had suffered a repeat of something from years past.
Yet when Felix was completely out of sight, Dimitri felt worse. He’d be halfway up to his rooms by now - all alone, after experiencing that in front of all those people. While so many would blame him for his actions. It made him sick, to think of what he should have done. What he neglected to do.
He would have to speak to Felix about it again. Because the pieces of their last few moons were beginning to line up, and Dimitri didn’t like the look of the picture forming before him.
Felix seemed almost normal again the next day. Not entirely, not enough that Dimitri could resolve to put his fears away, but certainly better. The matter of the night before—dealt with swiftly once Felix went to bed, the nobleman didn’t have a leg to stand on—was over, but little parts of it remained.
Feigning tiredness from the activities of the night before (though perhaps feigning wasn’t the best word - Dimitri was tired, but it was from the time he’d spent lying silently in bed rather than anything that came prior), Dimitri set the pair of them to a simple task. It was mundane, yes, and could probably be handled by someone else, but Dimitri needed something he didn’t have to use too much energy on; they both needed that for the conversation he wanted to have.
“Do I have to do this?” Felix asked, looking at the stack of papers in front of them both. Every piece of paper related to a knight who wanted to transfer from their current station; there were a lot of them, in the run up to winter. “Surely someone else has time.”
Dimitri shook his head. “Perhaps, but I have been known to claim that I look at these personally. I have to sign the responses, so I may as well write them.”
Felix pulled a face, but he set to his task. Dimitri let out a slightly unsteady breath - all to plan so far. He wanted them both to do something boring, something that wouldn’t require either of them to get up and go anywhere to check details with people. That would give him the time he needed to bring the revelations of last night up.
It was easy work. Each piece was much the same - Sir So-and-So had been assigned somewhere out of the way by their commander and had become dissatisfied with the monotonous work. Alternatively, Lady This-and-That had been stationed in a city for two years and wanted something a little quieter.
In many cases, the decisions had been made before Dimitri even looked at the requests. Notes had been attached by the people in the records offices letting him know how feasible the move was, whether the knight had been on good behaviour with the populace and their fellows. If he thought the case merited a change, he wrote as such. If he didn’t, he did the same. And every time, he signed the page at the bottom.
Felix’s job was a little different; he sorted the papers by priority, by the ones he thought would be easy to get through quickly and the ones he thought needed more consideration. It was the precursor to Dimitri’s job, and for a while they worked in easy silence, the piles before them getting more manageable by the minute.
Then, Felix froze, his hands suspended over one of the pieces of parchment.
Dimitri looked up, replacing his quill into the pen holder. “Felix?” he asked. Felix didn’t turn. “Is everything alright?”
Felix nodded jerkily, snatching up the piece of paper before him and tossing it to the far side of the table. “I’m fine.” His voice was tense.
Dimitri shook his head, inching his chair around the table a little. He needed to reach that piece of parchment before this spiralled any further. “We both know that isn’t true.”
He tried to keep his voice kind, but Felix didn’t react to it, determinedly staring down at another piece of paper. Dimitri knew that, were he at the correct angle, he would see Felix blinking furiously.
He wasn’t at the right angle for that. What he was in a position to see, however, was the piece of paper Felix had tossed away so ferociously.
It was a request from a knight with a familiar name. Suddenly, everything fell into place.
Felix had insisted, above everything else, that a specific knight was dismissed from her position. Then there was his anger that had seemed so disproportionate when Dimitri queried it, and the refusal to talk about it. There was the way he hated large gatherings, the way something had happened on that particular night, and the admission from the evening before.
The truth was plain to see. There was no avoiding what was so blatant, laid out so clearly before him.
But Dimitri was done with dancing. He had spent so long inching little pieces of the puzzle out of Felix’s clenched hands. He knew what had happened now, knew the terrible truth that lay at the end of the path, but it wasn’t his truth to find.
It was Felix’s. If Dimitri was going to know the truth, he wanted to hear it from his lips.
Felix didn’t object when Dimitri stood from his seat at the desk. Across the office, Dimitri lifted the kettle onto the fire in the grate and let the water boil. He could perhaps have heated it faster with magic, but he wanted to let the moment settle. Give Felix the time to collect himself.
Felix looked up only when the kettle boiled and Dimitri fetched two cups of tea, spooning pine needles into one and chamomile into the other. “What are you doing?” Felix asked.
Dimitri set both cups down on the table and sat on the sofa at one side. “I’m taking a break,” he said. “You should join me - I poured your favourite.”
Felix squinted at him, but he stood from his chair nonetheless. He had to know what Dimitri was doing - it wasn’t like he’d been subtle about it. But Felix hadn’t been subtle about how he felt either, so two could play at that game.
But it wasn’t a game. It was two people with far too much history, sitting across a table from each other. With Dimitri’s heart rate rising and Felix’s hands shaking, they made quite the pair.
Barely more than two sips into his tea, Felix set his cup down. “Make conversation.”
Dimitri barely suppressed a laugh. If Felix never changed, he’d be the happiest man alive. “You don’t normally appreciate my small talk.”
Felix’s grip tightened around the handle of his cup. “Say something anyway.”
Dimitri nodded, fishing into his mind for every inane piece of information he liked to impart to dignitaries when he didn’t want to say anything important. “I received a rather interesting gift from the Empire today - from Hevring territory, I believe.”
Felix relaxed slightly, and Dimitri took that as a sign to continue for as long as he needed. “It was mostly the usual you’d expect from the Empire - food, largely, and the standard letter of goodwill. The invitation none of the lords want me to follow up on.”
Felix snorted, but didn’t offer his opinion. “But he also—at least, I assume it was the lord, unless he has a rather unruly secretary—sent a whole crate full of books. All of them seem to be annotated, and they’re on all kinds of strange topics. Someone I spoke to thought they might be an elaborate curse, but somehow I don’t think so. Do you have an opinion?”
A beat of silence as Felix simply looked at him. Dimitri grasped for another topic, failed, and let the quiet sit for a moment.
"I was her squire." The words tumbled from his mouth in a rush that Dimitri could barely comprehend. It only took him a moment to work out who 'she' was, pulling his mind away from the conversation that was little more than filler. "She didn't do anything, not back then. If my father had heard about it, there was nothing that could be done to save her job."
Dimitri nodded. He didn't want to encourage him to continue, not in so many words, but he hoped that he would. It was a truth he wanted to act on.
"But she was... close. To everyone she was involved with. I was no exception, but she always said I was special. I liked it, but it also felt-" He shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe I'm putting too much of what happened eventually into the past."
Dimitri's heart sank. This was what he expected, yes, but to hear it nigh on confirmed... "We do not know, and have no way of knowing," Dimitri said. "Memory is fallible, but you should trust that her intentions were not good."
Felix snorted. "You can say that again." He took a sip from his tea, and Dimitri tried to ignore the way his fingers shook around the cup for the sake of Felix's dignity. "It was after the ball. I went up to my room after we spoke, but I turned a wrong corner at some point." He laughed lightly there, as if he couldn't believe it. "I was a bit tipsy - you know that. And I wasn't really thinking about it when she just- cornered me."
The ceramic under Dimitri's fingertips made a noise of protest, and Dimitri put it down on the table with an abrupt clink before he managed to break it. Felix didn't even react, continuing his retelling of how everything went so wrong. "She told me I had... grown up into a very handsome individual. Individual." He winced at that, and Dimitri offered him a commiserating smile that Felix probably didn't see.
"And then- her hands went places they shouldn't have been. But I didn't do anything. I just- stood there. Until she was done. And then she went back to the ball, and I went back to my room." At the end, Felix's words twisted up into themselves, and he let out a sound that seemed suspiciously like a choked sob.
It had been a long time since Dimitri last saw Felix cry. At this point, it felt like three lifetimes ago. He still didn't let anything escape, but Dimitri sat there in silence anyway, letting Felix work through the feelings as they came.
When Felix finally took another sip from his tea, glancing tentatively up towards Dimitri, he took his chance. "I am sorry," he said.
Felix's forehead creased in a frown, face marked mostly with confusion. "You didn't do anything," he said, his voice hesitant.
"You're right," he said. "I didn't, and I should have. So let me apologise, Felix, for all the pain this caused you."
"You-" Felix cut himself off with a shake of his head. "You didn't have to do anything."
"I should have asked," he said. He'd thought many times about how he could or should have done something differently, but the pieces had never quite fallen into place like they had now. With the truth laid bare before him, he could see where it was all so obvious. "I should have known."
Felix shook his head, but his apology wasn't done. He didn't know if it could ever fully be done, especially not just in words, but he wanted it out in the air. "I should have asked in a different way, perhaps, and now I see where I went wrong. I made you feel unwelcome in a place that should be your home when I wanted to do the exact opposite, and nearly made it a place where you could never feel safe."
In truth, he had never seriously considered not dismissing the knight, not with the urgency of Felix's request, but at the time the whole thing had seemed out of character. That, too, was a misstep, and one Dimitri regretted immensely. "I cannot ask you to accept my apology," he finished, "but I will offer it regardless."
Felix shook his head again. He'd been concerningly quiet as Dimitri spoke; concerningly still, even. "I should be the one apologising. I... I know I should have said something. It would have solved this sooner."
Dimitri felt terrible even thinking about it, but he had to know. And maybe Felix wouldn't mind telling him anymore. "Why didn't you?"
Felix bit his lip again. "I was ashamed," he said. His voice was stark, cold; brutally honest in a way Dimitri was very familiar with, yet somehow so different. "It- it shouldn't have happened. I know that, and I... it happened anyway, even though I could have stopped it. I felt I'd let it happen."
"You did not," Dimitri said. He wasn't there, but it was as clear as day to him that it couldn't be the case. "You cannot be blamed for your reaction; something dreadful happened to you—not because of you—and I do not blame you for a minute of it." There were things he wished had happened differently, yes, but nothing that he blamed Felix for.
"What about the ghosts?" Felix asked. "You suffered while I was gone. You shouldn't diminish that, and it was my fault for not contacting you. I ignored those letters and made you worry for me when even a single word could have changed it." He took a deep breath and opened his mouth again, but Dimitri wouldn't hear another word of it if he could help it.
"Please, Felix," Dimitri said. He stopped short of shushing him, because after all of this time, Felix not talking was the last thing he wanted. But he needed him to understand. "Don't say such things about yourself. I wish it hadn't happened, but I cannot blame you."
"You should," Felix said, but Dimitri shook his head.
"I should not. I will blame the knight who did this in the first place, and everything in the world that made you feel as if you couldn't come to me about this when it happened." Including him. Because while Felix wouldn't accept it, Dimitri knew he had to bear a little of the blame here, and that also meant he had to take responsibility for solving this. "I can dismiss her permanently and forbid her from entering the capital again."
"You don't have to do that," Felix said, his voice a little rough.
"I don't," Dimitri answered easily, "but I will address this issue in whatever way you wish me to. So what would you like me to do? As my friend - not as my advisor."
Now, Felix made a slightly choked noise. "If it were- it would-" He sighed, clearly collecting his thoughts. Dimitri would give him all the time in the world. "I would like it if she was gone from here forever. If I never had to see or think of her again... I'd like that."
"Then it's done," Dimitri said, lifting the sheet of paper from the desk. He plucked a quill from the pot, dipped it in the ink, and penned the few simple words that would, hopefully, put this matter to rest for good. "She will be stripped of her honours immediately, from the moment the person who receives this has the chance to read it."
Perhaps selfishly, Dimitri had hoped that Felix would smile at that. Instead, he looked again into his mostly empty teacup, his fingertips worrying the hem of his tunic. "Is it unfair?" he asked, his voice almost imperceptibly quieter than before. "That she just- loses everything?"
"No, it's not," Dimitri said, shying just clear of loading his voice with the kingly authority he was so used to using in the council chamber. Felix didn't need to hear that - he needed to hear him. "She never should have hurt you in the first place. If this had been the lowliest stableboy who came to me with these words, accusing the Archbishop themselves, I would have reacted in the same way. This is the only just way to treat this."
Felix nodded stiffly. Dimitri had long since learned what the hunch of his shoulders meant, and he wasn't surprised when Felix stood from his seat. "Please excuse me," he said, voice carefully low and even.
Dimitri nodded, and Felix turned towards the door. Just as he reached for the doorknob, Dimitri finally figured out what he wanted to say. "Are you alright, Felix?"
Many moons ago, Felix snapped at him for asking such a thing. He pointed a blunt sword at Dimitri's chest and shot all the acid he could with his tongue alone.
Now, he didn't offer Dimitri a soft smile or a gentle look. But he did offer hope. "I will be," he said, voice thick. "One day."
That was all Dimitri needed to hear.
The candle that was burning down to a stub when Dimitri finally pulled Felix away from his work for that evening sputtered once, then went out entirely. It was only then that Dimitri realised how long they'd been talking since all the papers got put away.
Felix startled, his head raising slightly from where it rested on Dimitri's shoulder. "Oh," he said, voice hushed even with no one around to hear them. "I didn't realise it was so late."
"Mm," Dimitri replied. His words ran dry when he realised just how close they were; whenever Felix moved, Dimitri would be cold without his steady warmth pressed against his side, their legs so close together that Dimitri was almost surprised he hadn't realised just how much their thighs touched.
He was almost shocked that they were so close. Almost. The distance from moons ago was so fresh in his mind, yet at the same time felt forever ago.
"I really am impossibly lucky," he said, mostly to himself. The words he spoke alone in the dark were Felix's too, of course, but they didn't have to be addressed to him.
"What do you mean?" Felix asked, only the tiniest note of something mocking in his tone.
"I feel we must have both been blessed to have overcome everything thrown at us just to get a moment like this."
This time, Felix's answering noise was nothing but confused, even as his voice remained slightly sleepy. "There's nothing special about what we're doing now."
"That's the point," Dimitri said. Felix looked up at him, eyelids drooping ever so slightly, and shot him a fond, exasperated smile.
"Sure, if you say so."
Dimitri didn't have to speak the affirmative to know that Felix understood. This was precious, and this time it could last as long as they lived.