Chapter Text
"Is everything alright, Felix? You left rather hurriedly there." Dimitri poked his head out of the ballroom to spot Felix just where he thought he'd be: out on the balcony, a half empty drink in hand, watching the stars.
Felix chuckled. "I'm fine," he said. His voice was low, purposeful. The tiniest bit looser than Dimitri was used to hearing, but that wasn't a bad thing. "I just got a little hot. I wanted to take a moment away."
"Of course," Dimitri replied. "Do you mind if I join you?"
Felix shot him an undeniably strange look, just for a moment, but when he opened his mouth the refusal Dimitri expected didn't fall from his tongue. "Go ahead," he said. "There's room for one more out here."
"I think there's room for a fair few," Dimitri said with a laugh.
"I'd rather it be just the two of us." Once the words left his mouth, Felix's eyes widened. If it weren't for the darkness, Dimitri would have said Felix was blushing, but he couldn't be sure.
Should he acknowledge the words? He was loath to let them pass, but even more so to give Felix the chance to rescind them.
Goddess damn it all, he was done skirting around these things. "I wouldn't expect to hear such a thing from you, Duke Fraldarius."
"Oh, shut up," Felix said, waving his drink towards Dimitri in an undeniable gesture of dismissal. And yet... his words were fond. "Don't you 'Duke Fraldarius' me. Can't we just..."
He shook his head, and Dimitri looked at him questioningly. "Can't we what?"
Felix cursed lightly under his breath. "I've had too much to drink," he admitted. "It's making me too bold."
"I know plenty who would describe you as too bold with your words while sober," Dimitri replied, a laugh bubbling up in his chest. He adored spending time with Felix like this, time where the walls came down and the distance between them narrowed.
"Perhaps," Felix answered, "but at least then the feelings don't- ugh. I can't believe I'm saying any of this."
"Well, if you'll believe it, I'm listening."
Felix chuckled. "You're not very subtle, you know. Transparent as glass." His eyes were on the wine glass in his hand, clear enough that when he held it up to the sky (as if toasting their shared trials, perhaps), moonlight shone through.
"Meanwhile, I find you rather more difficult to read," Dimitri commented.
Felix brought his hand back down, almost cradling the glass against his chest. There was frustration in his expression. "I know," he said. "It's not- it's not on purpose. I'm trying."
If Felix ever spoke that phrase in company, Dimitri would have known exactly what to say - 'I know you are, and everyone else feels the same way.' Felix would laugh, and they'd move on.
But now, staring up at the stars... "I like it when you try," Dimitri answered, hoping he didn't sound too much like a fool. Then again, he'd been Felix's fool for quite a while now. He wondered if Felix knew.
"I know," Felix said softly. "That's why I'm still doing it." He looked up at the stars once more, and Dimitri sorely wished to push that little strand of hair behind his ear. But he couldn't; not yet.
"Thank you." Was there really anything else he could say? He still didn't know. He looked over at Felix again, hoping that maybe the answer would be found within his eyes.
Felix frowned and turned away. "I've definitely had too much to drink," he grumbled. "You can finish the rest of it if you want. I'm going to bed."
Dimitri chuckled. "I hope you're not feeling it in the morning. Goodnight, Felix."
"Goodnight, Dimitri." And then he was gone, vanishing into the castle's hallways. But the warm feeling he'd introduced to Dimitri's heart remained.
Often, Dimitri and Felix took a late morning tea in the courtyard. It had become such a routine affair that he hadn't even checked if it would occur that day - Dimitri just showed up at their usual spot as the bells struck eleven.
Normally, there was a small tea set laid out on the table with a handful of snacks. Felix would tap his foot against the cobbles below and tell Dimitri that he'd been waiting (when Dimitri asked the cooks what time he collected the tea, however, it became clear that he hadn't been waiting long at all). That day, Felix wasn't there.
Dimitri tried not to worry about it too much at first. Felix had complained about having drunk too much several times the night before, so perhaps he'd woken late and was running behind schedule. Perhaps he'd only realised the time when the bells struck eleven, and was fetching the tea now.
But as the minutes wore on and it approached the usual end time of their morning tea breaks, Dimitri's worries mounted. He didn't know exactly what he was worried about, but he certainly feared something. When the bells chimed for a half past the hour, he headed over to Felix's office.
It was empty, and the fireplace hadn't been lit; Felix hadn't been there this morning, or at least hadn't lingered long enough to settle down to work. He went to the kitchens and asked after Felix's usual morning tea - the kitchen staff informed him that he had neither collected it, nor had the Duke Fraldarius been in his chambers when a maid took breakfast up that morning.
That left one other likely place, though the worry lurking deep in Dimitri's gut hoped that it wouldn't be so. Yet willing it out of existence couldn't change anything, so Dimitri tried to pull his thoughts back in check and headed to the training grounds.
Sure enough, Felix was there - the only one there, dressed in loose clothing Dimitri only saw when Felix had already wrapped up his duties for the day. He worked on familiar drills, his form shifting around the unmoving figure of a training dummy.
"Felix?" he asked, in lieu of a greeting. Felix paused for a moment then kept swinging, not even turning to face him.
"You're here," Felix said, as if he hadn't skipped out on the appointment they kept every single day. As if the appointment didn't exist at all, and it was a surprise to see Dimitri here.
Dimitri's heart sank. If he'd been worried before, it was nothing compared to seeing Felix in the flesh, somehow sharper and more hostile than he'd been in months. He didn't know what was going on, but he didn't like it one bit.
A small but growing part of him, worried as to what this could mean, wanted to walk out of the training grounds right there, leaving Felix to his mood. But the warmth of his smile and the softness of his voice the night before didn't lie. Dimitri just did his best to match the affection in his memory and opened his mouth. "Is everything alright?" he asked, his voice soft.
This time, Felix's movements didn't falter. "Is that the only thing you came for?" he snapped, tone just as sharp as Dimitri's was caring. "Because if so, you're wasting my time. Wasting your time. I'm fine." The last words were added as if an afterthought, and it didn't sway Dimitri one bit.
"Please, Felix," he said, making his voice a little more insistent this time. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong, and any reason Felix might have to deny him that knowledge consisted of so many things Dimitri didn't want to imagine. "Are you sure you're feeling well?"
Felix whirled around, the slightly shiny tip of his training sword pointing at Dimitri's chest, merely a moment away from prodding at him. Felix didn't meet his eyes. "Goddess," he said. "Can't I get a moment of peace here?"
And then he brought his sword down, threw it in the vague direction of the wrong weapons rack, and stormed out, leaving Dimitri with a single, terrible certainty: he'd done something wrong.
A double terrible certainty, perhaps; he had no idea what he’d done.
"The Duke is in a foul mood again," one of the courtiers noted. They'd just called a recess from the meeting after Felix very nearly blew up on someone who'd asked for extra money for a wedding festivity. Dimitri had just about managed to get Felix to keep it to a chewing out instead.
Still, the sour mood hung in the air, and Dimitri knew he wasn't the only one who'd noticed the way Felix had been lately. This was a common occurrence, now; over the last few days, Dimitri had come to dread calling on Felix in a meeting for his opinion, knowing it would only fan the flames.
Each time, he hoped it wouldn't. Each time, he hoped that Felix would return to the man from the balcony with the stars and the soft smile. Each time, Dimitri found himself disappointed, a pit of anxiety growing in his stomach.
"When isn't the Duke in a bad mood?" the person to his left noted. Two seats away, Felix's seat was empty; he'd excused himself for some air the moment the recess started.
"It's worse recently," the first replied. "Just when I thought that he was suited for the role of right hand..." Dimitri cleared his throat, and the person shot upwards in her seat. As if she’d forgotten he was there until that moment. "I'm sorry, your Majesty, I don't wish to question your appointments. I merely-"
Dimitri thought of Felix, who was doubtless going to treat someone else to a tongue lashing as soon as the meeting resumed. He thought of him in the training grounds, brushing him off with harsh words. He looked back over to the door, which hadn't cracked open again to announce his return.
Dimitri sighed. "Go on," he said. The courtier's eyes went wide. "I would hear your thoughts on this."
"O-of course, your Majesty!" she said. "Forgive my bluntness—though I suppose with Duke Fraldarius around you're used to such things—but... I wonder if he's suited to an advisory position. He was doing rather well, and always kept his temper in check, but lately it seems as if he has rather lost his patience for the whole thing."
The courtier to his left nodded fervently. "We are all aware that Duke Fraldarius is more a soldier than a politician, your Majesty," he said. "It may be that he prefers to take a more hands-on approach - he's never been one for events or fancy occasions. I'd agree that perhaps he's hit his limit with the affairs of the capital."
Dimitri nodded, and at that moment Felix re-entered the room. Dimitri took a moment to survey his appearance; the tense, high set of his shoulders, the perpetual frown that he hadn't seen at ease since that night barely a week ago. His hand twitched at his waist, and Dimitri hadn't even noticed that Felix was carrying a knife again. When did that happen?
He needed to talk to Felix about what had occurred. That much—if nothing else—was very, very clear.
"Felix, may I have a moment?" Felix didn't pause in his training, the rhythmic thud of his sword against the straw dummy his only answer to Dimitri's question.
Dimitri sighed. "I wish to talk to you about the night of the ball."
Felix's movements stuttered and then came to a halt, his left fist clenched at his side as he brought his sword away from the dummy. "What of it?" he asked, his voice stiff.
So Dimitri was right; there was something. He wasn't imagining that there'd been a change of sorts in Felix since then. The only problem was that, as he thought about it more, he could think of only one answer; with it came only one question. "Did I do something that night to upset you?"
Felix huffed. "Not everything is about you," he answered. He moved away, placing his training sword back in the rack.
"But is this?" Silence. "Or am I making it worse, somehow?"
Felix whirled around. There were a hundred emotions in his eyes, and Dimitri... Dimitri couldn't decipher a single one. "Yes," he said. And then he stormed past, fists clenched, and slammed the door on his way out.
Dimitri was left standing there, watching the dummy that had very nearly been battered to a pulp. Felix hadn't told him which question he was answering, but either way he'd done something wrong; Felix was unhappy. Perhaps desperately so.
It tore at him. He'd thought they were doing so well. He'd hoped, after that night, that they might be able to move towards something more than just dancing around their emotions and bottling everything up. He at least thought they were moving in the right direction.
But now... Dimitri knew that, by making Felix stay, he was being selfish. Felix's presence at his side was of immeasurable comfort to him, especially with Dedue away in Duscur and Ingrid taking extended leave to be at home for the season. He enjoyed the time he spent with Felix, the words they exchanged. Sometimes, when they spoke, the sounds of the dead retreated entirely.
It was a privilege he was not entitled to. If Felix's presence here made him unhappy... maybe he would feel better if there was some distance between them. Maybe it was the fact that they were getting closer that bothered him so much, and that was why Felix withdrew so suddenly.
Maybe the answer to both questions was yes - Dimitri had done something terrible that night, crossed a line he didn't know was there, and now by being close to him Felix felt even worse. Bad enough to push everyone away, to make everyone miserable along with him.
Dimitri found his fists clenched at his sides. How could he have been so foolish? How could he have spent so much time trying to get close to Felix again, only to risk their shaky friendship by wanting ever more? How could he have been so greedy?
There was really only one thing he could think of to solve it. Felix clearly felt that Dimitri wanted him to stay, which was true, but his feelings weren't the only thing that mattered here. If Felix wanted to leave—and he so clearly did—then he should, and Dimitri wasn't one to let him think it wasn't an option.
So he had to go to Felix and suggest it. He didn't want his suspicion to be true, didn't want Felix to go, but he refused to trample all over his friend's (and Goddess, he so hoped they could still be friends) feelings. This was for the best.
It took a while for him to be certain, but eventually Dimitri managed to catch Felix in his chambers. He'd taken to wandering the castle and city at odd hours, with no discernible pattern beyond the excursions falling outside of Felix's usual training hours; it took far longer than Dimitri was willing to admit to pinpoint a time where he could actually hold a conversation.
The tea Felix poured from the pot in his sitting room was unevenly heated - it was barely more than lukewarm when Dimitri brought the cup to his lips. Felix clearly didn't want him there, but he wouldn't be dissuaded.
Felix had spent many years pushing him away, and Dimitri had happily done the same in turn. Now, he tried to be immune to it, so he took a few sips of the tepid, over-brewed tea and settled in for a difficult conversation. "I have a proposal for you," Dimitri said.
"So that's what you're here for." Felix stirred his tea angrily as he spoke. He made far too much noise as he did so to be considered polite, but Felix had always cared little for courtesy and tried even less these days. "Get on with it."
"I... thought it might be good if you got away from the castle for a while," Dimitri said, his voice erring on the side of hopeful.
He didn't know what he expected in reply. Maybe a relaxation of Felix's shoulders, or a carefully collected expression as he tried not to seem too pleased about being asked to leave. Felix's reactions were unpredictable, especially in intimate settings such as this, and Dimitri tried not to hold his breath as he waited.
He would admit, however, that he had not expected Felix's face to twist up in rage. "I see," he said. When he paused, the silence in the room rang in Dimitri's ears, and he almost wished that Felix was still stirring the cup of tea. Now, his hands gripped so tightly on the handle that Dimitri caught himself worrying that it would crack.
"If the suggestion is not amenable to you, then-"
"No," Felix said. His voice was tense. "I'll go. Just tell me. Did I do something?"
"What do you mean?" Dimitri asked with a frown. In all honesty, Felix would have to be more specific. He had done many things to make Dimitri think that this must be the correct course of action.
"Is my manner... unsatisfactory?" Felix asked. He put the cup down very hard onto the table; not even on the saucer. Dimitri could only internally chide the part of him that noted that with disdain.
"Not at all," Dimitri answered. He would take Felix in any manner, no matter how sharp his tongue. He often needed someone to say harsh things that seemingly no one else would voice in his presence. He relied on Felix for that. "It's not to do with your manner of speech. It is more... I felt you were settled in your role here. But these last few weeks, it seems more like you are unhappy. I do not wish for that to be the case."
Felix clenched his fists. Then he unclenched them and moved them out of Dimitri's line of sight. "I-" He wouldn't meet Dimitri's eyes. He was poor at that anyway, but Dimitri wished he would try; it might make it easier to understand what he meant right now. "You-"
With the teacup in front of him, his shoulders a little hunched over, and his face creased with rage and the periodic inability to speak his mind, Felix reminded Dimitri uncomfortably of the young man he'd known for many years. The one of their time at the Academy or during the war - perhaps even immediately after, when the cracks were still so visible between them. Before they'd managed to speak honestly to each other.
It hurt to see. It made Dimitri's heart ache, wondering what he could have done quite so wrong to provoke a response like this. He thought this was the way forward, but perhaps...
He pasted a smile on his face, hoping he looked concerned rather than insincere. "Felix..." he said. He didn't know how to say this in a way that didn't sound terrible. Maybe he couldn't; maybe he shouldn't say it at all.
But the moment he shook his head, Felix pounced. "You have something to say," he snapped, and Dimitri could imagine the bitten back 'boar' in that tone. Like the man from years ago, the man who hadn't grown yet. "You're already here to talk, so just speak your mind already."
Dimitri bit his lip and took the bait; he doubted Felix would let this rest if he didn't. "I was merely surprised by your temper," he said. He didn't imagine that any amount of soothing tones would help Felix calm down, but the last thing he wanted was for Felix to think he was angry too. "I thought this was a difficulty you had left behind these last few years."
The moment he put it into words, Dimitri knew he'd made a mistake. Felix's face, previously something he could describe as 'frustrated' or perhaps 'angry,' turned apoplectic. Even for Dimitri, hearing the phrase spoken aloud sounded a little on the cruel side, and he knew that Felix must feel the same.
Felix breathed heavily, his mouth opening and closing once, twice, three times until he clamped it tightly shut. His fingers gripped the edge of the table with a force that would have surprised Dimitri in the past; now, he noted it with no small amount of resignation. Perhaps this was just the way things were now.
"Fine!" Felix said, practically launching out of his seat. Dimitri shrank back, and the look on Felix's face darkened further. "Fine. I'll leave. If that's what you really want, you'll never see me again. How does that sound?"
And without even giving Dimitri the opportunity to reply, Felix left the room.
This was not what he wanted. It was what he thought Felix wanted, but clearly he was wrong.
The first thing he did was get out of Felix's chambers, though not before carefully placing the tea aside. He wanted to leave a note, let Felix know a little more of what he thought, but he doubted it would help in the slightest - the only thing he could do was get well out of the way for when Felix decided to return.
When the initial shock of their argument dissipated, Dimitri felt terrible. His aim, going into that meeting, had been to help Felix, not hurt him. He'd done the complete opposite of what he set out to do.
Now, he knew he should have approached the whole thing completely differently. Felix didn't want to be told to leave, that much was clear. But what he did want, perhaps even what he needed? That remained unclear. Far too unclear for Dimitri to be comfortable in his ability to set things right.
Back in his own chambers, he paced back and forth on a piece of carpet well-worn by generations of pacing monarchs. He couldn't let it rest like this, and he had to solve it soon. Imminently, if he could.
He wished Dedue was here. Perhaps Dedue would have been able to help Dimitri sort through Felix's feelings, even if the pair of them had never really got on. Or Annette, who knew Felix's sweet spots better than Dimitri had ever been able to, or Sylvain, who'd been there for him when Dimitri couldn't be.
But none of them were here. Dimitri had to sort this out by himself, and all he had were fragments of the pieces he needed. He knew that Felix, for an unknown reason, was being more prickly towards others than was usual for him. He also knew that people had noticed this, and that Felix clearly knew about it.
What Felix felt about it was still unclear. What had caused it in the first place—if there even was a discernible cause—was equally unknown, but Dimitri was responsible somehow. That was all he knew, and while his imagination was determined to fill in the gaps, such a thing would be unfair to Felix; perhaps even unfair to Dimitri himself.
They needed to talk about it more. There was something happening here, something Dimitri wasn't privy to, and he couldn't do anything about the way Felix felt without knowing what it was. If Felix didn't want to tell him, that was fine - but Dimitri needed to try.
He hurried through the cold corridors of the castle; it was getting late, darkness starting to seep into the corners lesser touched by the windows. The route to Felix's chambers was one he travelled often, but it seemed so long now. Since when were there so many doors in the castle?
When Dimitri reached Felix's chambers barely two hours after their argument, he knocked on the door. There was no sound from within. Dimitri knocked again; louder, this time, hoping he'd hear something like Felix's swearing, followed by a shout that he was on his way.
He heard nothing. When Dimitri knocked a third time, he waited only half a minute before he cast his doubts to the abyss and pushed the door open. If Felix was busy, Dimitri could help him make time for it later.
It took him only a moment to realise he would need to do no such thing; he was too late.
Felix's chambers were completely empty. There was no sign of Felix in the first room, nor the next. No sounds came from any of the cupboards, and Felix could not be found sitting or leaning against any surface.
Beyond Felix himself, there was only one notable absence: the Aegis Shield. Felix didn't take it with him on his variety of excursions around Fhirdiad, which could only mean one thing.
Felix was gone. He'd done exactly what he said he would - exactly what Dimitri had told him to do. He'd left with next to no notice at dusk, when he was upset, and it was all Dimitri's fault.
Dimitri closed his eyes, leaning heavily against the wall. His head felt heavy, and the room swam a little around him even with his eyes closed. It was disconcertingly difficult to draw breath. This was all his fault. He'd upset Felix, driven the point home, and chased him away.
Now he had to fix it. And with Felix gone, he could think of only one way to do it.