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Felix spars with you in the training grounds. He’s always on your case about being able to defend yourself if someone gets too close. You can’t help being a squishy mage. After he tells you to train with a sword for the twentieth time, you finally say yes. This is your third? Maybe the fourth session of sparring lessons.
“Don’t duck!” Felix yells, “You have a sword, block with it then counterattack.”
“But Felix,” You try to answer between his swings “I *smack* don’t *thunk* usually use *whack* a sword.”
“Not yet, you’re learning!” Felix growls, swinging at you again and again.
You step back, trying to get a little distance between you so you can breathe for a second. Felix is relentless, driving forward with a thrust, you dive to the left to avoid it, dropping your sword. Your trajectory throws you directly into Dimitri’s area where he is throwing lances at a training dummy. Throwing your arms to the side you try to catch yourself, avoiding hitting the ground with full force. At the same time, Dimitri takes a step back, preparing to throw his lance. His foot lands directly onto your left forearm. You hear a snap.
“Oh! Where did you come from?” Dimitri gasps, regaining his balance and reaching down to help you.
“That’s enough from you Boar!” Felix shouts, causing Dimitri to back away.
You sit up, using your left hand to push you from the ground and it makes you whimper in pain. Immediately you grab your left hand with your right one. If you support it, it doesn’t hurt much, but if you try to move or use your left hand, your face shows exactly how much it hurts.
“Give me your hand and I’ll help you up.” Felix stares down at you, brows furrowed.
“I can’t.” You snivel, trying your best not to cry in front of Felix and Dimitri.
“Are you alright?” Dimitri asks softly. His expression is pure dread. Felix’s yelling only makes him feel worse. “Let’s call Mercedes. I can run to fetch her.”
“I don’t know. I’m going to the infirmary. It looks fine, but something doesn’t feel right. It was my fault. I should have listened to Felix and blocked instead of running away.” You apologize softly to them both.
“I’m going to lift your arm to help you stand up.” Felix says, reaching for your right arm just below the shoulder. Getting back onto your feet, you refuse to let go of your left arm.
“It looks just like it did a few minutes ago.” Felix studies your arm.
“I am erring on the side of caution. I’ll be back.” You say, heading to the infirmary.
Felix yells at Dimitri as you leave. Their voices fade as you turn the corner and head upstairs.
Manuela greets you warmly. “Good to see you dear. Are you here for more lessons?”
“I had an accident.” You lift your arm slightly.
“Well, let’s have a look.” She smiles, seating you on a chair next to a cot. “Put it up here. There is no blood. Tell me what happened.”
You tell her the story and she praises you for doing the right thing. Manuela asks you to move your fingers. She touches your hand, sliding her fingers up your wrist toward your elbow when you cry out. Concentrating on her healing magic, the soft white glow from her fingers feels warm on your arm. You notice it is taking longer than when she heals your cuts and bruises.
“Don’t move one inch. You’ve broken one bone and cracked a second. You’re not going to be able to use that arm for weeks. If it heals well, you can have the splint removed, but only use it for light things until it heals properly.” Manuela shuffles over to several cabinets, pulling out various supplies. When she is finished, your arm is wrapped heavily with bandages from your elbow down to your fingers. Two pieces of wood are buried under the wraps. You cannot move your hand, your fingers are covered, useless.
“It was smart to come straight here.” She lectures, “If you tried to tough it out you would have broken the other bone and made a mess, taking months to heal. Don’t get it wet. Get it checked every day. Take this potion for the pain, then go straight to bed. Rest is the best medicine right now.” She puts a sling around the bandaged arm, tying it at the back of your neck.
Downing the nasty medicine, you head straight to your room. By the time you arrive, you are feeling wiped out, the adrenaline from fighting is well out of your system. Sleeping on your back is normally hard, however the medicine is working, you fall asleep with your arm on your chest, above your heart.
*
A banging on the door rouses you from slumber. “Come in.” You announce, not really awake yet.
Felix barges into the room, stopping when he spies your bandaged arm. “Where did you g--what the hell!”
“It isn’t bad. It’s just…” You pause to think, “Precautionary.”
“It’s all the damn Boar’s fault! If he had been watching where he was going…” Felix’s voice trails off.
“No!” You retort, a bit loudly. “I should have paid attention, I went across the boundary line. He was where he was supposed to be. I wasn’t. It’s my fault.”
“If you would have listened instead of backing away you would be fine.” Felix bickers, then he is silent. He wants to believe Dimitri is completely at fault, but he realizes he has earned part of the blame.
Felix turns as if he is going to run outside of the room. Instead, he gives a heavy sigh and brushes back the hair from his face looking at the door.
“Manuela says to keep it wrapped up for three or four days, then I can use my hand again. Not for sparring or lifting anything heavy. Casting magic is empty handed, I’ll be ready by the next battle.”
“Good. You should rest. You missed lunch. I’ll make sure someone gets you for dinner.” He nods and storms out the door.
*
Annette raps on the door, her voice always cheerful, with a sing-song tone. “Hey, time for dinner!”
Looking up from your book, your stomach growls in agreement. Checking yourself in the mirror, the sling doesn’t stick out too bad. Stepping into the hall, Annette and Mercedes both gasp loudly, “Oh!”
“Hello, nothing to worry about. Just a little accident. Nothing a few days rest won’t fix.” You smile as you follow them to the dining area.
They try to bug you for the details, you tell them you fell. Manuela looked everything over. You’re fine. You swear you can hear Mercedes muttering a prayer for you as you walk together.
In the food line Annette offers to carry your tray, but Mercedes gives her a look and grabs it from you instead. (Annette carrying two trays? One accident is enough for today.) Taking your spoon, you dig into your meat pie. It tastes delicious, what you manage to get into your mouth. Your useless left hand twitches in the sling. Instead, you must use your right hand, the one that hasn’t figured out the fine details of bringing food to your lips. By the time the filled spoon makes it to your mouth, it is half empty.
“I got this!” Annette squeals. “Let me help you, please?”
Her eyes are round and glimmering with hope, like this is the most amazing thing she could ever do for you. She’s so cute and overwhelmingly excited about everything. What harm could she do? You don’t have the heart to tell her no.
“Okay.” You nod.
“Yay!” Annette squeals loudly again.
She takes a spoonful and food makes it completely into your mouth. Deliciousness incarnate is dancing on your tongue. You finish chewing and swallow. Annette is ready with another spoonful.
“Good?” Annette nods.
You nod happily in return, thankful for her help.
“Okay! Here comes the arrow looking for a target, where’s the target?” Annette squeals joyfully then making a wooshing sound as the spoon is swirled in front of your face.
You half heartedly open your mouth as she “flies” the spoon/arrow into it.
You hear a random male voice behind you laughing, “Good girl. If you eat your veggies, maybe you can have dessert.”
Blushing from embarrassment, especially after hearing a few more chuckles from nearby, target practice is over. You take your spoon back.
“I need to learn how to do this.” You mumble to your food.
“Sorry, kinda got carried away.” Annette apologizes.
“Thank you for helping.” You nod. The food has cooled, it is sticking together a bit. Not as tasty, but easier to keep on the spoon. You are the last person in the dining hall by the time you finish eating. Annette and Mercedes left for other duties. You stand to take your tray back to the kitchen staff when you feel a tug on it.
“Let me take this.” Byleth’s lip pulls up the tiniest bit on the corner as they relieve you of the heavy tray.
“Thank you, Professor.” You smile.
“May I speak with you?” They ask.
“Sure.” You nod.
Following Byleth, they lead you to the Blue Lions classroom. Shutting the door, they ask you to sit in the front of the room with them.
“Tell me everything that happened when you were hurt.” They ask.
You retold the story, from spar to fracture. It was an accident, if anyone is to blame it is your fault, you weren’t paying attention to where you were going.
“I see.” Byleth nods, resting their chin on their hand. “Dimitri came to me earlier stating he had gravely injured one of his fellow students accidentally and as punishment should bear the burden of any inconveniences you may have.”
“No!” You shake your head. “He is without blame. I mean, yes it was his foot, but he was doing everything properly.”
“I agree, Dimitri committed no wrongdoing. The next time you see him, please reassure him.” Byleth nods. “This was an accident. Felix should have recognized the danger, he knows the boundaries. He should assist you with what you cannot do with one hand. Whatever you are comfortable with. He can carry your books to class or the library. Manuela told me if you do not listen to her orders, you may break the other bone or worse. We need you for the battle at the end of the month.”
“Yes, Professor.” You nod solemnly.
Good grief. How can one little spill turn into a big mess. While returning to your room, you spy Dimitri. He runs over to your side, stopping a safe six feet away when he watches you cower instinctively.
“Y/n, my sincerest apologies! When you did not return, I became concerned. I had no idea I had fractured your arm! I take full responsibility. Let me be your willing assistant.” He does everything but fall on his knees before you.
“Dimitri, shush.” You hold a finger in front of your lips, “You did nothing wrong. You are innocent. It was an accident. Nobody blames you. This is my fault for being careless. I should have watched where I was going.” You smile at him apologetically.
“No! I stepped..my foot.” Dimitri shakes his head in shame, tears coming to his eyes. “I would be happy to do anything for you. Simply ask and it is yours!”
“I ask you to stop worrying about any of this. The Professor agrees. You are innocent, free of blame. Perhaps we can have tea one day.”
“Excellent.” Dimitri bows. “Let me know any time, I would be happy to provide tea and treats whenever you wish.”
“Thank you.” You curtsey. “Good night.” You smile as you head off to your room.
Too tired to head to the baths (and figure out how to bathe and keep your arm dry) you quickly sponge bathe in your room. Washing your hair is too much after today. You dress in your night clothes and sit at your desk to read.
There is a knock at your door. You grab your robe, stick your right arm in it and throw it over your left shoulder. “Come in.”
Felix takes a step inside the threshold, closing the door behind him. “I saw your candle is still burning.”
“Would you like to sit down?” You offer.
Felix slumps into the other chair at your table. “What do I have to do?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never…” You shrug. Looking at Felix, he is miserable. Byleth probably told him to talk to you.
Felix looks lost and trapped like a cat that wants to leave, now. He grumbles, “The Professor said I should carry heavy things for you.”
He was going to say your books can’t be heavy, but looking around the room, you have extra bookshelves loaded with books and tomes. Texts are stacked on top of the shelves, at least seven books on the table and several on your nightstand.
“I will try my best not to bother you unless I absolutely must. Interfering with your training schedule is not going to happen.” You nod.
“It already did.” He frowns.
“How did I mess up already?” You whine, tears trying to spill from your eyes. You blink quickly, forcing them back.
“I worked you into my schedule to teach you how to not die, then you go and break your arm.” Felix scoffs.
Your eyes go wide. It’s my fault for breaking my own arm? Oh, this is not happening, you think to yourself.
Standing up abruptly, you point to the door. “Out.” You order.
“Fine.” He growls as he stomps to the door, slamming it behind him.
*
The sun shining through your window wakes you from your sleep. Your elbow in the sling slid down to the bed. You slept with your arm partially higher than your heart (per Manuela’s directions) but not high enough, it is throbbing and so is your head. Checking the time, luckily you are up earlier than normal. Great, you need more time to get ready. Lots more.
Sling off. Undress. Put on underwear and pants, pull up this side, the other side, repeat. Ugh, exhausting. Bra is hooked together, slid over bandaged arm then head, then good arm, pull it down and adjust. Shirt left arm first, grab at neck to get to the other sleeve, stick through hole, take forever buttoning. Socks, work them up each side. Omigosh, how long does it take to get dressed? You need an extra hour in the morning. Boots are easy. Hold up in back, slide foot in. Sling back over your head, slide arm in. Done!
Looking in the mirror, there is no way you can put on any makeup. You try a bit of lip gloss, it doesn’t get too far out of control. Combing your hair is okay. The part is a bit crooked, owell. You try several times to put it in a ponytail, but it isn’t working.
There is a banging on your door.
“Are you going to class today or should I tell the Professor you are ill?” Felix jeers.
You unlock the door. “Give me a hand.”
Your good hand reaches out to pull him into the room. Taking your comb, you hold it in front of his face.
“Ponytail, now.” You order, plopping into the chair, your back to him.
Felix steps behind you, silently combing your hair back into his other hand. Before he can ask, you hold your tie up so he can fasten it into a ponytail.
You grab a bag with small items, holding it in your right hand. When he looks at you, you point to a stack of books he needs to carry to class. You pick out a seat in the front and thank him. Running to the kitchen you show them you have one arm. They suggest a fried egg sandwich. You nod and devour it on your way back to class. You are early enough to get your things ready for class.
Byleth arrives before class, standing across from you at your table. Pulling your inkwell a little further from you, they ask if you can reach it. You nod. They put something sticky on the bottom, gluing to the table. Now you cannot knock it over easily. You nod in thanks.
Felix sits to your left. You prefer nobody sits on that side so you have room to write, but that arm is out of service. He hands you books, gets paper from your folder. You say nothing, not wanting to make it…weird.
Byleth checks to see if you can write legibly, deciding it is okay, Felix is a swordsman, not a calligrapher. His notes are harder to read than yours.
After class he takes your books back to your room. Checkup time finds Manuela delighted you are listening to her. She uses more magic to move things along. Come back in two days.
Homework is not as wordy as usual, more succinct. Your right arm is tired, it should be, doing the work of two. Eating slowly will improve Some things are still impossible, trying to put on makeup you stabbed your eye.
Manuela added another day to the do not use your arm rule. Your hair is filthy and looks terrible. Maybe you can wash it in your room if you go slowly.
Filling a wash tub with water, you use magic to heat the water. Just before you are ready to dunk your head into the bucket, there is someone at your door. Unlocking it, Felix pushes his way inside your room.
“I saw you hauling water. You should have asked for help. I know what you’re trying to do, I put your ponytail in this morning, remember?” Felix scolds, arms crossed in front of his chest.
“I’m not an invalid. I got this.” You mimic his stance.
“No, it’s hard to do properly.” He growls. “I tried to do it in the baths.” He looks at the water in the tub. You now notice his hair is still somewhat wet he must have tried it before he came over.
“How are you going to wash it? I thought I would just kneel over the tub.” You shrug.
“If you did that, I would try to shove your head in and drown you.” He gives a mischievous smile.
“Maybe I should do it myself.” You frown.
Felix takes the chairs from the table, putting them together next to the tub. He then takes your hand, pulling you to stand. Placing a towel around the back of your neck, you sit sideways on one chair, laying back over both, your head hanging off the end over the tub. Felix kneels in front of the tub. You look at him, from your upside down position. He looks strange this way, his eyebrows look more furrowed and his mouth is grumpier than ever.
Felix unbuttons his cuffs, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. Filling a cup with water, he lifts your head to pour water onto your hair. He feels uncomfortable with you staring up at him. Reaching for your shampoo, he pours some in his hands.
“Close your eyes, I don’t want to get soap in them.” He orders.
Closing your eyes, you feel his fingers lathering up the soap in your hair. You saw he used a lot more shampoo than you do normally. Your hair must be really gross for him to notice it is dirty. He works the lather through your hair, then starting at the nape of your neck he scratches your scalp in small circles. This feels nice. The smell is so relaxing. You smile subconsciously. He keeps scratching, washing your head and hair. It feels so wonderful, you let out a soft hum of satisfaction.
“Hmm?” Felix says in response.
You open your eyes to a different person. Felix’s face is upside down still, but his brow is not furrowed, his face is relaxed, a smile on his lips. Until he sees your eyes open, then it is gone. You jerk a bit, closing your eyes again.
He squeezes some of the soap from your hair then lifts your head with one hand and pours water down the top of your head. He raises your head as he pours more water, rinsing your hair clean. He then squeezes the extra water from your hair. He is so different from himself. Handling you gently and softly, not the sharp, angry porcupine.
“You can sit up now.” He says, his voice softer than usual.
You reach for the towel but he takes it first. Taking handfuls of hair gently between his hands, he rubs them with the towel to dry.
“Where’s your comb?” he asks.
Opening your eyes, you point to the top of your dresser. Felix starts at the bottom, carefully combing and detangling your hair. You don’t feel him pulling or tugging at all. Once he has combed through everything, he gives your hair a perfect part down the middle.
“Are you cold? I’ll get you tea. Almyran pine okay?” Felix asks, but he doesn’t wait for an answer. He opens the door and takes the tub with him as he leaves.
You sit in shock. Who is that man? Where is the real Felix? Why are you blushing? Why is your stomach full of butterflies? Shaking your head, you need to pull yourself together. Taking the wet towels, you wipe any drips from the floor and put them out to dry. Putting away your shampoo you return the chairs to the table and clean it off for tea. Keeping yourself busy, and going slowly because you’re short a hand, it seems like only a minute and Felix opens the door, holding a tray with tea.
Felix won’t let you do a thing. He sets the table and pours tea. He takes a napkin off a small dish containing spicy looking biscuits and cinnamon rolls.
“Are all of your books about magic?” Felix asks, surrounded by volumes and volumes of them.
“Pretty much. Spells, potions, useful herbs and plants. I spied a book about weapon maintenance at the bookseller. Since I’m learning to wield a sword, I need to learn its upkeep.”
“I can show you everything. It’s better learning first-hand instead of trying to understand it from a book.” Felix says, picking up his teacup to blow on it before sipping.
“Do you have many books about swords and weapons?” You ask, taking a biscuit.
Felix eyes the biscuit, then looks away. “Yeah.”
You are failing teatime with Felix, you internally groan. You took his snack, so he is mad again. Think of something to keep the conversation moving.
“I need to understand how and why different swords are made. Why do some have points while others are blunt. Why are some of those guard things curved? Does it matter how the hilt is shaped? Does the thickness or the way the grip is wrapped make a difference?”
Felix’s eyes light up. “Cross guards have different purposes with different swords. You see…” He continues speaking about them, using his hands to accent what he is talking about. You nod and keep him talking for a while. He smiles a bit when he talks about things he likes. This makes you smile too.
The monastery bells sound, reminding you both that curfew starts soon.
Felix stands. “I need to go.”
You help him the tea items on the tray. “Thank you for the tea and talking about swords and the…hair stuff. I appreciate your help.” You blush.
“You need to heal so we can work on your swordplay.” Felix grabs the tray, heading for the door. Did you spy a bit of red on the top of his ears? Maybe it was the light.
*
The bandages finally off, you can see your arm. You can smell your arm. It was sweaty under all that bandaging. Ew. Manuela tells you to wear the sling to remind you not to use it for a few weeks. Lift nothing heavier than a quill.
You hit the baths as soon as possible. Soaking in a hot tub, you fully cleanse the funky smell from your arm. Washing your hair takes forever. It is nowhere near as pleasant as when Felix did that for you. His magical fingers rubbing and scratching your scalp. You feel your face flush red. You duck your head completely under the water, hoping you drown after thinking about him that way. He’s just a friend.
Just a friend.
*
Dressing is a little easier, less bulky, but still one handed. Manuela is right in telling you to wear the sling, so many times you have caught yourself trying to use your hand. You cannot mess it up now. You resolve to behave and heal as quickly as possible.
Felix still carries your books and sits next to you in class. You take notes with your left hand until it is tired, then switch to the right. Your writing is getting more legible and a bit faster. After class, instead of reading and researching magic, sometimes you head to the training grounds to watch Felix and others spar. You watch their movements, the difference in their foot placement, how they hold their weapons, focusing on different pieces of the whole that is sword fighting.
After another week, Manuela lets you resume casting magic. It is performed empty handed, but some of the gestures can be intense, the magic rumbling through you and leaping from your hands could have interfered with healing. At least you can make the next battle. After that you are allowed to lift more weight, building strength in your arm.
You are fascinated by Felix and Petra sparring in front of you. Both have different styles. Your concentration is disrupted by the feeling of an arm sliding around your shoulders.
“Hey cutie! Come to watch some sexy muscles flex? I could put on a show if you’d like.” Sylvain grins, wiggling his eyebrows in a very non sexy way.
You look at him with your lips pressed in a thin line, glaring into his eyes. You pinch his thigh that is pressed against yours.
“Yeow!” Sylvain yells as he is zapped by a bit of electricity. He jumps up shaking his leg. “I get it.” He apologizes, backing away.
Felix finishes his spar and you throw a towel at him. He wipes down his face and neck. “Everything okay?”
“Fine.” You shrug. “I have a question, when you were countering Petra’s attack…” You walk alongside him discussing the recent spar.
*
A few weeks have passed. Tomorrow the Blue Lions leave to rout bandits. You invite Felix to tea in the gardens. Mercedes helps you bake treats and carries the tea items. There is a little box on your lap, to thank him for everything.
Felix arrives, right on time. Before he sits, he pours tea for you then himself.
“You’re not wearing your sling.” He frowns slightly. “Aren’t you supposed to?”
Smiling at him softly, your left hand rests on the table. “It is only to remind me to not use it. It’s nice to let it loose so my shoulder doesn’t freeze up.”
Felix takes a few treats, crunchy toast squares with melted cheese, spices and salt. Some have bits of meat as well.
“This is different.” He smiles. “You’re all dressed up. We’re outside with awesome treats. What’s the occasion?”
You try to still the fluttering in your chest. “I want to show you I’m thankful for everything ever since this.” You wave the still healing arm.
“You’re almost back to normal now. We’ll start weight training soon, then sparring lessons.” Felix takes another snack, biting into it. He really enjoys them, they have a good kick.
Placing the box onto the table you push it over toward him.
“This is to thank you for everything you’ve done to help me. A token of my gratitude.” You look him in the eyes. He nods back, then looks at the box. You let go, he tears the ribbon off.
Opening the box, he finds a beautiful, pristine, dagger made by the infamous Zoltan. It sparkles in the light. His hand hovers over the blade. He is extremely tempted to take it in hand, to feel the grip in his palm. His shoulders regretfully relax as he folds his hands in his lap.
“I can’t accept this.” Felix whispers.
You shake your head. These Faerghus people can be so strange. “You can. The intent is to thank you. That’s all. There is nothing else you like or appreciate. Well, a stick of deer sausage is not enough to show my gratitude for how much you’ve helped me when I needed it the most.”
“That’s all. Just a thank you. Right?” Felix stares into your eyes.
You nod and smile. “That’s all.”
Carefully he reaches for the weapon. It is strong, light, perfectly balanced. It’s perfectly perfect. He turns it over several times, his smile filling his entire body.
“If it bothers you too much, you can tell everyone you bought it yourself. I just made the arrangements.” You aren’t sure if he hears you, he’s still staring at the dagger flashing in the light, the sun’s reflection of the blade wandering across his face. Taking the box from the table, you hide the evidence in the pocket of your skirt.