17 - THE CONFESSION

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Felix

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I awake from vague, chaotic dreams after sleeping for so long that I'm not even sure what year it is. It takes me a few minutes to become aware of my surroundings and return fully to consciousness.

Soft morning sunlight is peeking through the gaps in the curtains, falling in lines across Sylvain's sleeping face. He is curled up on the bed next to me, hugging his pillow, one of his legs slung over mine as if he needed to maintain physical contact of some kind even while asleep.

A soft rumble beside me causes me to turn around and I see Wolfie sitting on my other side, paws tucked under himself so he resembles a fat loaf of bread. With a smile, I reach over and pet him. For once he doesn't stalk off in a huff. He rubs his head against my hand and purrs louder.

"You big softie," I whisper and he squints angrily at me even though he keeps purring. "Yeah, me too. It's disgusting, isn't it?" I say.

Finally Wolfie decides that he is too cool for affection and jumps off the bed, perching on his favorite spot on the windowsill and batting aside the curtain with his paw. The flood of light wakes Sylvain and he mumbles something groggily.

He bolts up and looks over to stare at me with wide eyes.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I… Nothing, just a dream." He reaches over to hug me and as we lie back on the pillows, cuddled in each other's arms, he murmurs, "Don't get out of bed yet, okay? Stay here with me for a little bit."

"I'm hungry," I protest.

"Tough."

"Fine."

I tuck my head against Sylvain's neck, breathing in the scent of his skin and resting in the incredible warmth of his presence.

"Did you sleep finally?" he asks.

"Yes."

"Thank the goddess. You had me worried out of my mind."

"You were worried?" I scoff. "You fucking vanished into thin air to fight that thing on your own! Unarmed!"

He kisses the top of my head. "But I survived. I kept my promise to you, and I always will. I'm not dying before you."

"Good. You'd better outlive me, you bastard."

"Statistically unlikely, given that I'm older than you and all this stress will age me prematurely. But I'll do my best."

"Are you going to start getting gray hair?" I ask.

"Would you still love me if I did?"

"Maybe. We'll see."

He laughs softly and I smile. Humor isn't exactly my forte. I'm pretty shit at it, to be honest. So every time I can make him laugh, it makes me feel pleased and even proud in a silly way. I love that sound - not the quick, loud laugh he gives freely in public or the nervous one that comes from him when he doesn't know what to say. I love this quiet, genuine one with no intent to entertain or disarm, and I make a promise to myself to learn how to elicit it better.

His hands travel idly across my back, palms pressing against my skin, fingers tracing aimless designs here and there. After a few minutes he rolls me onto my back, pressing his body as close as he can without crushing me. His lips find mine and he kisses me slowly and sleepily.

It isn't like the tentative, exploring kisses we shared at first while we were still learning each other's bodies, nor is it like the desperate kisses with which we frantically sought to comfort our fear and stress. It's just calm and familiar, rich with the kind of stunning intimacy I didn't even know I was capable of.

I could push my tongue into his mouth, rake my fingernails across his back, escalate it into something rougher and more sensual. But I can't bring myself to rush through this lingering, intoxicating gentleness.

After all, we are not going to die tomorrow. We have all the time in the world now, don't we? There are still dark things on the horizon for us, but here in this moment, the danger has passed and I have him all to myself without an immediate fear of losing him. I can take my time.

Sylvain murmurs a soft mmm of satisfaction and his hand strays to my hair, combing through the tangles for a minute before he stops and rests his palm on my cheek, cradling my face as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss.

I don't know how long we stay like this; I lose track of time and everything else except his warm mouth and strong hands and the weight of his body on top of mine.

How is it that I spent years imagining every detail of what it would be like to be with him and yet it is so much more than I ever could have expected? It's overwhelming, really: the reality of him.

He must be thinking the same thing because he pauses to whisper, "I never thought I could love someone this much."

I don't have adequate words to express what I want to say so I stay silent, brushing my fingers through his messy hair and smiling up at him. He looks a little embarrassed at his own declaration and hides his face in my neck as he blushes. Then his lips start wandering across my skin, making me shiver.

He notices my reaction and kisses me more intently, nipping at my skin every so often then following the tiny bites of pain with the comfort of his lips and tongue.

I shift restlessly beneath him, self-conscious at the physical effect he is having on me. We just woke up, after all. We should probably get up and have some breakfast or-

Sylvain starts to roll his hips against mine and I can't ignore the desire he is provoking in me anymore. I can feel my own arousal mirrored in his body as he nudges my legs apart and grinds his hardening dick against my thigh. I curl my fingers into his hair, yanking his head up so he stops kissing my neck and returns to my lips instead.

Changing my mind about taking it slow, I slip my tongue into his mouth to play with his. He moans and sucks on it a bit, saliva slicking his lips as he turns the kiss into something hungry and urgent. I tug the waist of his pants down and push my hand between our bodies, closing my fingers around his dick and stroking my thumb across its head. As he bucks into my grip, his quiet hums become deep groans low in his throat. He stops kissing me and hangs his head heavily on my shoulder, his racing breaths and wet lips hot against my skin.

"Fee," he whispers, his tone raw and pleading. The few times we have done this he has been so calm and self-assured, but now he is completely undone, melting at my touch, his facade of control gone.

"Get on your back," I say and when he hesitates, I grow bolder. "Now!"

He obeys the order and I smile a little smugly at him. But before I can move on top of him, a knock on the door shatters the moment.

"Go away!" I say.

Sylvain swears under his breath and it sounds almost like a whine.

"My lord, Inspector Agust and King Blaiddyd wish to speak to you," Oliver says in a firm, brisk tone.

"They can wait!" I snap.

"My lord-"

Sylvain heaves a deep sigh and sits up, closing his eyes, his expression strained as he focuses on calming down his arousal. "Go," he says. "We can do this later."

"I want you now!" I whisper.

He laughs breathlessly. "Oh I know. But there are more important things for us to see to."

I want to protest that in this moment I can't think of a single thing more important than fucking his goddamn brains out. But the rational side of me knows he is right and I fight back my impatience and desire and get out of bed, pulling on clothes.

"Tell him I will be there in a minute," I say.

"Yes, my lord," Oliver replies and his footsteps recede down the hall.

"You're going to be the death of me, Fee," Sylvain says as he walks over to the wash basin on the table by the mirror and splashes cold water on his face. He shudders and sighs, then gets dressed too.

"Come on. Let's go," he mutters and I follow him out to the living room where Agust and Dimitri are waiting.

Oliver has set plates of food on the coffee table and a teapot and I help myself to some breakfast and sit down on the sofa across from Dimitri and Agust with a slightly resentful, "Good morning."

"How are you both doing? Are you recovering from your wounds?" Dimitri asks worriedly.

"We're fine," I answer. "What updates do you have?"

"Morcliff has recovered fully from the drug's effects and he is talking," Agust says. "A lot of what he says doesn't make much sense and he often seems to get caught up in paranoia, saying that none of this matters because 'they' will come to kill him before he can betray them. He says to go ahead and hang him because it will be quicker than what 'they' will do to him. I assume by 'they' he refers to whatever it was that killed Sterling and took his body."

I glance warily at Dimitri and he nods slightly. "Inspector Agust helped me to discreetly dispose of its body," he says, answering my unspoken question. "He has been sworn to secrecy on the matter." Dimitri looks at Agust. "A promise I trust he will keep for the good of his country."

The inspector nods gravely. "You have my word, your highness."

"I have pressed Morcliff for as much information as possible on 'Those Who Slither in the Dark,' as they call themselves. What he has told me, I have written into a report and will take with me back to Fhirdiad for Byleth and I to analyze. This investigation she and I have been doing on our own has become our highest priority now, I'm afraid. These witches are coming out of the woodwork again and we cannot allow them to start another war."

"How can we help?" Sylvain asks to my surprise. I figured he would not be keen on getting wrapped up in conflict of any kind after finally restoring some peace and safety to our lives.

"I do not yet know," Dimitri answers. "But when it comes time for a fight and your courage and strength are needed to defend Fódlan, I will send for you. You two are my best and most trusted warriors. I am grateful you are willing to stand by me again should it be necessary."

"I'll keep my blade sharp just in case," I say.

"Did it ever grow dull?" Dimitri asks with a small smile and I glare at him.

"It seems we don't know enough or just can't talk too much about Those Who Slither in the Dark at the moment, so I'd like to focus on getting some other answers," Sylvain speaks up.

"About the murders?" Agust says and Sylvain and I nod.

"The story is a strange but simple one once pieced together," Agust explains. "Francis Morcliff was working for these witches. He kidnapped his victims for them to use in whatever experiments. In return, he got to… use them for his own means first before handing them over."

"Which is why they never found the bodies of his other victims," I say to Dimitri.

He nods and says, "When Francis was imprisoned, his son Hamish was left at their mercy. They experimented on him instead. Exactly what they did and the purpose of these experiments is something we cannot get Hamish to tell us. Perhaps with more interrogation he will break. At the moment he grows incoherent and terrified when we press him to talk about it. Whatever the case, his mind has obviously been damaged and his hatred for you and Sylvain has been stoked into a psychotic obsession."

"So they got a chance to test one of their weapons without it being traced back to them. And as soon as it was, Sterling threw Hamish to the wolves so we would close the case," Sylvain adds. "He said something to that effect while I fought him."

"So it appears," Agust says. "There are still questions that remain to be answered, but I am confident that the human element of these matters has been solved. Whether or not more of these witches return to cause trouble, I don't know. But with Asmer dead and Hamish behind bars, we have done all that we can to bring those responsible to justice."

I take a bite of a scone, my heart feeling heavy and my mind resentful that I was forced to leave the comfort of a happy mood for this brooding, grim one. But I couldn't shut myself away from the real world, even for Sylvain. This all needs to be faced and as the duke it is my job to handle it.

Even with Hamish arrested and likely to be executed, it does nothing to repair the loss of my community. His victims are still dead and nothing can bring them back. I can hope that justice and retribution will be of some comfort to their families, but it won't heal the damage. It won't matter in their day-to-day lives as they miss the people they lost.

I know that better than anyone. Seeing Edelgard's corpse didn't ease any of the painful grief of losing friends in the war she caused. And what dark satisfaction there was in avenging them ultimately felt hollow and pointless once I realized it couldn't fill that void left behind after their deaths.

What can I do for the people who feel that now because of Asmer and Morcliff? They're my citizens. I should help them.

"What do you need from me at the moment, Inspector?" I ask.

"At the moment, I imagine your physicians have advised you to rest. I cannot stop you from questioning Morcliff but I would request that you refrain from doing so. He has been cooperative with us, but the sight of you or Margrave Gautier could turn his mood or send him into a psychotic state. We need him calm and talkative. You will likely only destabilize him."

"I understand. I will leave the matter in your hands. Please send me another report this evening," I say.

I catch Sylvain and Dimitri watching me curiously and I realize that they've never really heard me use my serious, business-like Duke Fraldarius voice.

Damn them. Now I feel ridiculous.

"Very well, my lord," Agust says, standing up and giving me a short bow.

"One more thing, Inspector," I say.

He pauses on his way to the door and gives me a questioning look.

"Next time you keep information from me and lock me up so that you can pursue your own plans without me getting in the way, please have the decency to at least offer food and water."

"My lord, I…" Agust's professional manner fades a bit and he says with a frank expression, "I had not entirely ruled out the possibility that you were behind the killings. I was not just buying myself time to find Sterling. I was killing two birds with one stone. I hope you understand."

"I understand that you do not know me well and that I have a reputation for being… well, myself. But I should hope that you and I understand each other better now," I reply.

"I believe we do, my lord."

"So food and water next time. Maybe some tea."

"Yes, my lord," he says, giving me another stiff bow, although there is a hint of a smile in the corner of his lips.

After he leaves the room, I pour myself another cup of tea and lounge back on the sofa in a more relaxed manner. Sylvain snuggles up next to me and puts his arm around my waist.

I glance over at Dimitri and there is a bit of a faraway look in his eyes. "It's funny," he says quietly. "You sound just like him sometimes." I tense up and Dimitri gives me an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I should not have reminded you of-"

"I'm nothing like Rodrigue," I say sharply.

"Rodrigue?" Dimitri shakes his head. "No, that is not who I was thinking of. You sound like Glenn. He was so casual and teasing around us, but when he was in a position of responsibility leading troops, he was stern but kind. He always had a sense of humor still. You just reminded me of him for a moment. I am sorry for bringing it up."

His words stun me a bit and I feel Sylvain tuck his arm around me tighter in a small gesture of encouragement. Even after all these years it is still hard to hear Glenn's name sometimes.

"I saw him in Morcliff's house while we were hallucinating," I say for some reason.

"Me too," Dimitri says softly. "I saw everyone."

"I'm sorry you got dragged into this."

"Please, don't apologize. I might not have been much help to you, but I am glad I was here. And if nothing else, what you have uncovered is important information for me. I wish I could stay here with you two for a while, but I must return to Fhirdiad immediately. I intend to leave within the hour. I'm sorry."

"Before you go, I have a question for you," I say.

"What is it?"

"How do I-" I set my cup down and rest my elbows on my knees, leaning forward and staring at the floor as I wrestle with my thoughts. "You have spent two years patching up all of Fódlan after a war. What do you do for the people left behind - the ones who lost family and friends in the bloodshed? How do I help the families of Morcliff's victims? They'll get their vengeance when he hangs, but it isn't enough."

Dimitri gives a thoughtful hm and considers the question for a moment. Then he answers, "To some extent, there is nothing you can do. You can never bring back what was lost. All you can do is prevent further loss. Be on the lookout for more threats. Learn how to work with people like Inspector Agust instead of against them. And show your people that you will fight for them no matter the personal risk, which is what you proved yesterday. Perhaps they won't trust you for quite some time after all this. But they will know that when a threat comes, you are willing to lay down your life to protect them from it."

"Wise words, Dima," Sylvain says.

He smiles sadly. "I cannot take credit for them. Byleth told them to me."

"Must be useful having a wise archbishop for a wife."

"It often is, yes," he replies.

"Tell her something from me when you get back to Fhirdiad, will you?" Sylvain says. "Tell her that I followed her wise advice and it finally paid off."

"What advice?" Dimitri asks.

"Tell her about Felix and me and she'll know what I mean."

Dimitri raises his eyebrows. "What exactly am I to tell her? I'm not sure I understand what is going on between-"

"We're in love! That's what's going on," Sylvain says.

"You're what?"

"Oh for the love of Seiros, don't look so astonished," Sylvain says. "Surely after all these years with us this shouldn't be coming as a shock to you."

"It was a shock to you!" I argue. "If you had no idea, why should anyone else? It's not like I was obvious about it!"

"That's because I'm an idiot! I figured the king of our goddamn country would have enough discernment to have picked up on all the years of pining."

Judging by Dimitri's startled expression, I'm guessing he didn't.

"Fucking hell," I swear. "We're a whole group of idiots, aren't we?"

"I suppose so."

Sylvain swears and stands up. The momentary levity in his expression fades to a look of determination and he asks Dimitri, "If you have an hour before you leave, will you help us with something?"

"Of course."

"Saddle your horse. I want to go for a ride."

"Where to?" I ask.

"The woods."

I'm not sure what Sylvain wants, but I follow him to the stable and after we have readied our horses, we set out towards the forest until we come to the head of the old Lupine Trail.

"Why are we coming back here?" I ask.

"Because I am not going to let that bastard take our favorite place in the world away from us," he says.

He spurs his horse forward and enters the shelter of the forest. For a while we ride in silence with each other, passing by familiar landmarks. The cloudless sky and strong sunshine fill the shady woods with crystal-clear light and I watch it glitter on the river and illuminate the patches of wildflowers lining its banks.

"Most of my best memories from our childhood were in these woods," Sylvain says. "I want to be able to come back here and remember them instead of remembering what happened here recently."

Dimitri nods, too lost in thought to reply. He hasn't been back here since before the war and I imagine it is a bittersweet sight for him.

"We were so young…" he says, a pained hoarseness in his voice.

"We are still young," Sylvain replies firmly. "Maybe you two forget that with all your grim seriousness, but I am here to remind you that you are even younger than me and I am not even in my prime yet! Our lives are really just beginning. Someday your children will come play in these woods with good old Uncle Sylvain and Felix, Dima. And they will have all kinds of good adventures like we did."

"And get into all kinds of trouble, most likely," he says with a faint smile.

"I don't know what you mean. Felix and I will be excellent role models for them."

"Shut up, Sylvain," I speak up. "I'm not letting him dump his stupid brats off at my house. I'm not a babysitter."

"Oh come on. Who else will teach them to be the greatest swordsmen in Faerghus?"

"Byleth," I answer. "It's not my responsibility."

"I am not about to have children any time soon," Dimitri says.

"Sure," Sylvain replies. "I give it another year. People always have kids once their marriage starts getting boring."

"My marriage is not growing boring, thank you very much."

"Good to know. But I still intend to have nieces and nephews someday."

"You're not actually his brother. They wouldn't be related to you," I say.

"Shut up, Fee. We're family. Blood has nothing to do with it."

He chatters lightly with us as we ride through the trails and by the time we have used up our hour and turned back towards the manor house, some of the shadows have lifted from the woods and it begins to feel like they belong to us once again.

I study the determined smile on his face and the way his eyes light up when he goads Dimitri into making a joke. How does he do this? How does he make things feel normal again after the nightmare we have endured recently?

This is what I have missed so deeply during that year we were apart. This is why I was going out of my mind, trapped in a silence I couldn't figure out how to break. I need him for this. Our fucked up world is too overwhelming without him.