18 - THE LAST GAUTIER
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Sylvain
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"I will send word to you as soon as I consult with Byleth on all that happened here," Dimitri says, falling serious when we reach the house. "Wait for my letter. If we gather enough information to know what we are up against and it leads to a battle, I will need your help. I am sorry to drag you away from your homes now that things have stabilized in Gautier territory and peace has been restored here, but-"
"Fuck peace," Felix interrupts. "If you have a need for my blade, just ask for it. If this peace we have in Fódlan isn't going to last, then I'd rather take on a battle now and confront the problem head-on than wait for it to escalate."
He nods. "As would I."
I hug Dimitri goodbye but Felix just sort of fondly and awkwardly punches his arm and says, "Get going, boar. You have work to do."
"Indeed. Farewell. Be safe. And… uh… congratulations."
Felix raises his eyebrows at him and Dimitri gestures at me.
"You should be congratulating him!" Felix snaps as I laugh. "He's the one who got the better end of the deal."
Dimitri laughs uneasily and says, "If you say so."
"What the fuck does that mean?" Felix demands, but Dimitri just swings up into the saddle of his horse and rides away.
"I've missed that son of a bitch," I say with a smile, watching him leave the courtyard of the manor and disappear from view.
"Well we might be stuck seeing him again soon," Felix says.
"Let's hope it's not too soon. I won't shy away from a fight, but even if it's selfish, I want some time to live my life for a while. I have been so wrapped up in responsibility that I haven't had a chance to pursue what I really want in life."
"And what's that?"
I walk over to Felix and take his face in my hands, kissing him deeply. "You, my love."
He bristles a bit and says, "Stop saying ridiculous shit like that."
Oh so he's back to being prickly bitch Felix now? Goddamn cat. One moment he wants to be petted, the next he's scratching your hand when you try to touch him.
I kiss him again stubbornly and say, "Never."
"'Congratulations,'" he mutters, turning away with a huff and swearing at Dimitri under his breath.
Deciding to give him some time to stew, I go back into the house and take a bath. A long soak in the hot water eases the aches and pains in my body from the pounding I took in the fight yesterday and it soothes the tension brought on by constant stress. It is good to have some time to myself to process all that has happened and steady my mind.
But as I get out of the bath and set to work shaving my face and fixing my hair, I pause, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Most of the time I can forget about that damn scar but sometimes when I see it, it's all I can focus on. It's a bitter reminder of what happens when I let down my guard and assume that my life will not be one of danger and violence anymore.
We ended a war, but did we really achieve peace? Is true peace something I will ever see in my lifetime?
"One day we will walk your land and rebuild it once the heaps of your corpses rot into the ground and the rivers of your blood dry into the dirt."
I shiver as I remember the cold certainty with which the demon spoke those words. He believed them absolutely.
Then a thought occurs to me that makes me a little uncomfortable. Is Felix looking forward to another war? He offered his blade to Dimitri so eagerly. And maybe I am imagining things, but I could swear there was even a hint of longing in his voice. Peace does not suit him.
Safety is one of the things I have longed for my whole life. As a child I clung to the refuge of my time at Fraldarius manor where Felix's bright energy could lift my dejected spirits and the security of Glenn's strong presence protecting us could assuage any fear I had of Miklan finding me here.
At the monastery, my faith in Byleth offered some reassurance. I trusted that no matter what happened she would keep us safe.
But during the war… Nowhere was safe and I believed nothing with certainty. The others might have fought for the good of Fódlan, but me? I got up every day, polished my armor and sharpened my weapons just so that someday I wouldn't have to anymore. Someday I wouldn't have to keep looking over my shoulder for danger or lying awake at night worrying about losing my friends. Someday I could just live my life, free of all this.
I thought we finally had that, and even though peace was lonely and burdened with overwhelming responsibility, it was safe.
But we were never safe. A moment of carelessness in a random encounter with bandits and I almost lost my head. A simple visit to Felix and now a handful of murder victims are buried in fresh graves.
Edelgard wanted to conquer Fódlan. Whoever these witches are with their dirty weapons and strange magic - they want to exterminate us.
"Sylvain?" Felix calls, knocking on the door. "Did you drown?"
I paste a smile on my face to hide my dark mood and wrap a towel around my waist, then open the door.
"I just want to look my best for you," I say. "I've got to make sure I'm on point and dressed to impress."
"You're naked."
"Exactly."
He rolls his eyes, even though a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. But as he looks at me for a minute, worry creases his brow. "What's wrong?"
Shit. I should have known Felix is not so easily fooled by false smiles and quips.
"Nothing in particular," I answer. "It's just… It is hard to bounce back quickly after what we've been through these past couple weeks. There's no point in wallowing in the past once there's nothing more we can do to fix it, but I still won't rest easy for a bit. I doubt you will either."
He gestures towards his room and says, "Come."
I reach for my clothes but he says, "Forget those. Come on."
"Oh my."
"Stop it."
He closes the door to his chamber behind us and locks it, then goes over to the bed and sits down on the edge of it. "Talk," he says matter-of-factly.
"Considering I'm here alone with you and quite naked, I'd rather-"
"Talk," he orders again, patting the bed beside him.
I sit down and ruffle my half-dried hair with my fingers. "What do you want me to say?"
"Whatever you need to."
After hesitating for a moment, I gather my courage and say, "If I ask you a question will you answer it honestly?"
"Why the hell would I lie to you about anything?"
"Because the truth might not be easy to admit."
"Try me," he says.
"What drove you crazy this past year? Do you miss…"
"The war?"
"Yeah."
Felix frowns thoughtfully. "No, I don't actually. I didn't fight in it for the hell of it, despite what some people thought."
"You seemed almost relieved when Dimitri said there might be another one coming."
Lifting his eyes to meet mine, Felix stares back at me with grave earnestness. "I don't enjoy being in danger. I don't get a thrill from killing. I've spent my life trying to become stronger so that I can win fights, not because I'm looking to start them. What I missed from the war was having a purpose. Everything was so clear then - to help, I needed to wield my blade and that was something I was good at. I've gone crazy because I was alone and lost, not because I didn't have battles to fight anymore."
"So it's not peace you hate, then? If we were to ever have peace - true peace - you wouldn't be unhappy?"
He fumbles a bit and glances away, answering quietly, "If I were alone again, I would be."
"And if you weren't alone?"
"What is it you're getting at? What is it you want to know? This all seems fairly obvious to me," he says.
"I want to know for sure that you and I want the same things from our lives. Because what I want is to be happy and to be safe."
"I think you being safe would make me happy," Felix says. He studies my expression and adds, "Are you afraid that I'll get bored of you? Is that what this is about?"
"I've always been afraid of that."
He looks at me angrily. Then he grabs me and kisses me so hard it overwhelms me and I struggle to keep up with him, wrapping my arms around him as he shoves me down onto my back and kisses me even more roughly.
"Why the fuck would I get bored of being happy? You know how insane that sounds?" he growls. "You make me happier than anything in this damn world. I wouldn't give that up for anything. Sure, if we have to go to war again, I'll fight and I'll fight hard. But I'll fight so that we can end it quickly and go home so I can spend my days laughing at the dumb shit you say and fucking you every day."
He is propped up on top of me, staring into my eyes so intensely it takes my breath away. All I can think to say is, "Every day?"
"Oh I'm sorry, is that too much for you?" he challenges.
The way he is looking at me makes saying anything coherent and even remotely clever difficult. But considering the fact that my towel got pushed aside and I'm naked beneath him, I think he can tell exactly what I am thinking.
"Normally after a week like this, I'd go train until I dropped dead from exhaustion. But I'd rather fuck you right now instead. It will accomplish the same thing," he says.
"If that's how you want to blow off steam, go ahead," I reply, my voice coming out in a shaky whisper.
"That's not all I want," he argues, getting up and taking off his clothes.
"What do you want then?"
As he tosses aside the last item of clothing, he climbs back on top of me and grabs my wrists, pinning them down above my head. "I want to make you come so hard you stop thinking yourself in circles and worrying about everything," he says before kissing me.
The next few minutes are a rush of tangled limbs, desperate kisses and the abandonment of all stress and self-consciousness. Then before I know it I'm on my knees beside the bed, one of his legs slung over my shoulder and his hard, flushed dick in my mouth.
"I thought- I thought I said- I was going to- fuck you-" he manages to say between gasps, closing his eyes and clutching at fistfulls of the sheets.
I reply by moving my head down until my nose hits his skin and he is so deeply in my throat I almost choke.
"Shit!" he swears breathlessly. "Oh fuck… Sylvain- wait. Stop, stop."
I pause and pull his dick out of my mouth, stroking it with my fingers and looking up at him in concern. "What did I do wrong?"
"Nothing," he says. "Fuck, that feels good. But I don't want you to just- I want it to feel good for you too. I'm tired of going back and forth like this. I want more. Come here."
He holds out his hand and tugs me onto the bed, then he opens the nightstand drawer and fumbles around in it for a moment before finding a small bottle and handing it to me.
I look at him with wide eyes and he must see the excitement in them because he smiles at me. "Unless you don't want to, of course," he says, his tone mockingly coy.
Dear goddess, help me.
He settles down onto his back and raises his eyebrows insistently. Heart pounding, I pull his hips closer and pour a little of the oil onto my fingers. As I lean down and kiss him, I slip a finger into him and he gasps against my lips.
I move slowly, concerned about how tight he is but also how impatient he seems. After a minute, he starts thrusting down against me and kissing me desperately.
"Fee," I murmur. "Take it slow."
He sighs and relaxes a bit, muttering a curse. I slip in a second finger and carefully gauge the signals of his body to see if I am hurting him or not. I doubt a little pain will faze Felix, but I'll be damned if I rush this.
To soothe some of his impatience, I lean down to run my tongue across the head of his dick, drawing a gasp and a shudder from him. I tease him enough to keep him aroused but not enough to make him come. Finally when he is ready, I add a third finger and cautiously watch the expressions that pass across his face. His brow furrows a bit with shock at the sudden strain, then his eyes close and he puts his hand over his mouth as he moans quietly.
"Come on. Sylvain-"
The sound of him saying my name like that breaks some of my composure and I finger him harder, seeing how much he can take. When he doesn't flinch, I stretch him a bit further and curl my fingers up to stroke at the spot that draws a small cry of pleasure from him.
"Get over here," he growls, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me up towards him. As my fingers slip out, his breath hitches and he takes the bottle of oil, pouring some onto his palm and taking my dick. His fingers are rough and calloused from years of a sword hilt in his hands, but his touch is just gentle and just strong enough that it feels perfect.
It doesn't take much to get me hard and as soon as I am, Felix gets up and pushes me over to the pillows to sit up against the headboard.
"Fee, are you sure-"
He takes my face in his hands and kisses me as he climbs onto my lap. "Stop asking me for permission. You have no idea how much I want this, how many times I've imagined you-" He gives up trying to put the thought into words and kisses me again.
I hold him on top of me carefully as I ease inside him, slowly, inch by inch. My heart pounds harder the deeper I go and as I slide in the last little ways and feel Felix's hot, tight body clenching around me, my eyes back and I curse loudly.
As I blink them open again, I realize that he is staring at me with a stunned look, as overwhelmed as I am.
"Oh fuck…" he whispers. "Fuck, you feel good."
He lifts up a bit and as I push back into him, the sensation makes me dizzy. When I'm sure he is ready, I thrust a little harder and deeper, finding the rhythm that matches his own movements. As I begin to go a faster, he gasps and clamps his hand over his mouth to muffle a moan.
Grabbing his wrist, I yank his hand away and say, "Stop doing that. I want to hear you."
He starts to reply but I interrupt him by bucking my hips up and thrusting into him roughly. Throwing his arms around me, he rests his head on my neck and moans again. The harder I go, the louder he gets until all of his reserve and composure is stripped away and he is a beautiful, reckless, genuine version of himself I have never seen before.
Every noise that comes from his mouth makes it harder to hold back the swelling pressure and heat in my body and keep from tipping over the edge. I think he is getting close, though. I just need to hold on a little longer.
Tugging his hair free of its knot, I tangle my fingers in it and pull his head back abruptly, punctuating the tug with a sharp thrust. He cries out and I kiss his collarbones and throat. When my lips reach his neck, I bite down on the smooth skin right under his jaw, hard enough to hurt.
The stab of pain drives him out of his mind and he takes control, adjusting the angle slightly and thrusting his hips down to hit mine, fucking himself on my dick with a desperate, demanding eagerness that is so intoxicating it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to come. I groan and distract myself by running my tongue over the bite on his neck and sucking at the bruised skin until I am sure it will leave a mark.
"Fuck! Shit- oh, I'm- so-" he gasps. He tightens around me and I see stars. The orgasm shudders through his whole body and as soon as it runs its course, he goes limp in my arms, his forehead resting against mine as he pants for breath.
I allow my attention to slip away from him and focus on my own pleasure and after a second I am a swearing, groaning mess too, fucking him with everything I've got. He cries out from the over-stimulation but before I start to hurt him, I reach my peak and the dizzying sensation of relief floods my body as I finish.
When I'm done, I exhale a long breath and lean back against the headboard. Felix doesn't get off me immediately. Instead he takes my face in his hands and kisses me slowly. After the sex we just had, his tenderness surprises me. I rest my hand behind his head gently and kiss him back, losing myself in the simple intimacy of it.
Finally he pulls away and looks at me with a soft smile. But before I can think of anything to say, he climbs off of me and walks away to the washroom to clean up.
With a sigh, I stretch and enjoy the warm haze in my body and mind from the orgasm. When Felix returns, he scowls at me and says, "Why are you smiling like that?"
"I didn't expect you to be so sweet," I say.
"Sweet?"
"You heard me."
He comes over to sit beside me and says, "Don't call me sweet. It makes me feel physically ill."
"You are sweet, though. You are the sweetest person I know," I reply.
"Shut up."
"Sweet Felix, the most tender of lovers, gentlest of friends, fair as a-"
He curses in frustration and jumps on top of me, putting his hands around my throat. "Stop it."
But I just smile at him teasingly. He squeezes harder, waiting for me to stop smirking. He obviously doesn't know my limits yet. It will probably take him a while to find them.
I maintain eye contact with him stubbornly and even though I can't help but choke a little, I refuse to tap out. After a minute, he grows alarmed and lets go of me, saying, "What the hell? Are you alright?"
"I love it when you throttle me so sweetly and tenderly," I answer hoarsely.
"Next time I'll choke you until you black out. Then I'll just leave and go about my day," he says.
"That sounds nice. I could use a good nap."
He swears at me and lies back down. "You're impossible."
I settle down next to him and press my lips softly against his cheek, whispering, "There. A sweet kiss for my sweet Felix."
"Get out of my bed."
I laugh. "No, I'm done joking around. I'll be serious for a while. I'm in a serious mood anyways."
"Are you now?" he asks.
"Yes."
I gather him into my arms and he snuggles against me, tucking his head under my chin. For a while we stay like that and as the haze of the sex fades, a thought settles in its wake that I can't ignore.
After a while, I say, "Felix?"
He pulls back to look at me, studying my solemn expression with a concerned look. "What?"
"I love you."
"Obviously."
He really isn't making this easy, is he?
I persevere and say, "I know you know. But those words mean a lot of different things. I said them to you for years because you are my best friend and then I said them to you again because you are the man I am in love with. But now, I realize that when I say them they mean something else entirely."
"What do you mean?" he asks, his eyes searching mine in confusion.
I falter for a second then reach out and cup his cheek in my hand. "To me, they don't just describe the way I feel about you anymore. They mean that I want to spend my life with you. I know we have always promised to be friends until the day we die and all that, but I want to alter that promise slightly."
"Alter how?"
"I don't want my life to just run alongside yours like a friend's would. I don't want to come by for long visits and catch up with you. I want you to be part of my life, every day. I want…" I trail off, at a loss for words. Unable to help a nervous laugh, I say, "Fuck, I'm coming on way too strong."
"Just speak your mind."
"Fee-"
"Say it," he demands.
"I don't quite know how to put it. It feels way too sudden and yet way too long in coming at the same time. I always knew you and I were tied together for life, but I never dared to hope it would be in this kind of way. Now that there is a chance you might… that I could-"
"Spit it out, Sylvain. Stop beating around the bush."
I look at him angrily. "I'm trying, alright? I don't know how to say it! If I were anyone else, I'd pull out a ring right now to make it clear what I'm trying to say but you know how I feel about marriage and how there can't be any more Gautiers and-"
He looks so stunned for a second you'd think I had slapped him in the face. Then he grabs me and kisses me. When he finally pulls back, all he says is, "Yes."
"You don't even know what I'm asking you," I say.
"I don't care. Yes."
I smile, too overwhelmed to reply, and he smiles back, his eyes lighting up.
Then he stops and squints at me suspiciously. "You're not just saying this because of the sex, are you? Orgasms can mess with a person's head, make them say all kinds of crazy bullshit. Whatever ambiguous thing you're asking for, are you still going to want it later when you've cooled off and are thinking rationally again?"
I take his hand and press it to my lips. With every ounce of sincerity I have, I answer, "I promise you, I mean this seriously. In retrospect, this probably was the wrong time to say it. I should have taken you somewhere romantic and popped the question in a moonlit garden or something. But I couldn't keep it to myself."
"What question exactly? I still don't know what I just agreed to."
"You agreed to be stuck with me for life."
"Oh hell," he mutters.
"You can't go back on your word."
Felix laughs. "You're the one who is stuck with me. I should be worried about you going back on your word."
"You have a point. Maybe Dimitri's right and you are getting the better end of the deal."
He sits up and clenches his fingers into a fist, looking at me threateningly until I raise my hands and say, "I was kidding!"
We settle back down and he pulls me into his arms to kiss me.
"You want to get rid of House Gautier as quickly as you can, right?" he asks.
"Yep. That's the plan. No more crests, no more legacy."
"Then I have a way to help you end it here and now."
"Are you going to kill me?" I say with a laugh. "Because I thought we were having a nice moment."
But he doesn't laugh too, or even smile. He stares at me with a dead-serious expression and says, "You don't have to die to get rid of Sylvain Gautier. You could just become Sylvain Fraldarius."
"Sylvain Jose Fraldarius," I say, testing the name out. "It has a good ring to it."
"Speaking of rings…" he says.
My eyes widen as I wonder what the hell has come over him.
"I don't fucking have one for you! Because I'm not fucking proposing to you. If - if - I ever decided to ask you, it would be somewhere nice. I'm not some mannerless savage like you who brings up serious things while lying sweaty and naked in bed."
I laugh and this time he smiles along with me.
"Come on," he says. "Let's get up. I'm starving."
But as he gets out of bed, he stumbles a bit and swears at his sore body.
"You want me to carry you, my dear?" I ask.
"Fuck off."
I jump up and scoop him into my arms but he struggles out of them and glares at me. "I'm fine."
"Alright. Want to go spar then?"
He winces a bit and I laugh. "Yeah, I didn't think so," I add.
"Leave me alone," he says, getting dressed and walking away.
I put on clothes and follow him to the kitchen, leaning against the counter and watching as he rustles through the cupboards and piles food onto a plate.
We take it over to the northern room with all the paintings that he knows I like. As we lounge by the fireplace and eat, he falls quiet and his eyes take on a distant look.
"What's on your mind?" I ask.
"It's so easy to forget about everything when I'm with you," he says.
"I work hard to make you forget about the world for a while. It's the only way we can survive it."
"I know. But I have to come back to reality eventually and when I do…"
"Fee," I say, touching his arm and causing him to look over at me. "I don't know what's ahead of us - a lot of disturbing things most likely. And if I think about them too much it scares the shit out of me. But when I get overwhelmed by it, I'm going to come find you and let myself forget for a bit. I want you to do the same. When nightmares or insomnia keep you up at night, don't sneak out of bed anymore. Wake me up. And when I start getting all tangled up in my head, I'll tell you and you can talk sense into me. Okay?"
He nods.
"That's how it's going to be from now on," I tell him.
Felix doesn't reply, but he reaches over and takes my hand, squeezing it firmly. The simple gesture reassures me and I smile at him.
"I love you," I say.
"I love you too."
