There was a part of Byleth that was used to fame.
When she was younger, she was renowned in the mercenary world as the Ashen Demon. During her time at the monastery, she was by far the most popular professor there for reasons she never did truly understand. Now, she was known worldwide as the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros—a title she had no desire to hold but was bestowed upon her nonetheless. With such fame and importance in F ódlan came a lack of privacy that she had grown to despise over the past three months. There was a time when she enjoyed relaxing in the monastery gardens, but now she could not so much as leave her room without people gawking at her as if she were a goddess gracing them with her presence. On top of that, she had to be escorted if she wished to leave the monastery premises. She figured that she would have more freedom as the head of a major world religion, but apparently the clergy were intent on treating her like a child.
That was approximately why she donned a dark hooded cloak as she skulked through the shadows of the halls of Garreg Mach, making her way from her room on the third floor all the way down to the main entrance. The only people wandering this hour were students who did not care for their sleep schedule, most of which were too focused on kissing their lovers to notice a mysterious figure moving through the light. Thus, she was able to escape through a side entrance and escape the captivity of the monastery. Garreg Mach was only around a twenty minute walk from the nearest town, but by the time she reached the central street, her rubber boots were covered in mud from the damp ground.
Byleth stood right outside a bar as she stomped the soil from her boots, making certain that her hood was covering her eyes before she put a hand on the double doors and pushed right through. Multiple sets of eyes fell on her the instant she stepped into the light. She half-expected someone to question her due to her shady appearance, but the regulars of such a bar were likely used to people dressing in a way that would not reveal their identities. As such, they turned their attention back to their drinks and jokes just as soon as they had looked at her.
The tavern was nothing special. It was constructed in a classical style—wooden counter, wooden barstools, the bartender standing before a wall of glasses, the usual. None of that mattered to Byleth, though. She only knew of one regular patron to this establishment from what she had heard from Annette and she was certain he would be here considering what day it was. She scanned the area and with her keen eyes, she locked onto him in no time.
He sat alone at the very edge of the bar counter, hunched over with a nearly empty mug of ale. Byleth was so used to seeing him in garments befitting a noble that it was off putting seeing him in clothes that most commoners wouldn't be caught dead wearing, what with the patchwork stitching and muddy colors. His once silky and shiny blue hair had become greasy and knotted, falling below his shoulders now that it was not tied up. With his unkempt facial hair, he almost resembled his late father.
Byleth steadily approached the stool next to his and swung her legs over the seat before gently sitting down, staring directly at him. With his eyes glued to a splinter in the wood, he paid her no attention, though she was certain that he knew she was there. She did not call his name, however. Instead, she sat silently and patiently, simply watching his idle form.
A minute had passed when he slowly raised the empty glass mug in the arm and slurred the word "bartender" with a slightly raised voice. With just a glance, the gruff bartender behind the counter stepped over to the pair, took the mug, and refilled it under a thin hose before setting it before the man. The bartender then looked to Byleth, who hadn't taken her eyes off her friend the entire time.
"What can I get for ya, ma'am?" he asked with a smile.
The Archbishop shook her head. "Nothing. I won't be long."
"Understood. Just give me a shout if you change your mind."
As the bartender walked away to tend to another customer, Byleth's mouth twitched as she watched the mug be raised to a pair of lips. Was he ignoring her attentionally? That was unlike him, but more than that, it was annoying.
"Felix," she began, leaning in. "What are you doing?"
He only responded after he had taken several gulps from the large mug, then placing it down on the countertop with no regard for where the coaster was. The man huffed.
"Drinking. What does it look like?"
Byleth frowned. "Sylvain tells me that you've been here every night for the past few weeks. You're going to drink yourself to death."
Felix shrugged. "Maybe so. We'll see." He raised the mug to his lips once again, though this time his arm was seized before he could get a taste. He scowled and finally looked Byleth in the eye. "What do you want from me?"
"You've been shirking your duties as Duke. Ingrid's working herself to the bone doing what you're supposed to be doing. Are you truly fine with letting her do that?"
"That's her choice," Felix grumbled, jerking his arm away from his former professor. "She isn't under any obligation to do a damn thing. Neither am I. Neither are you."
Byleth watched in frustration as Felix once again emptied his mug before wiping the excess alcohol from the hair above his lip. It hurt to see someone who had once been so dedicated to training his swordsmanship and the like reduced to…this. Though, she supposed she could relate. It had barely been four months since that fateful day where the war came to an end, after all. While she had lost the love of her life, Felix had arguably suffered even more than her.
She let out a sigh before closing her eyes, her expression softening as the seconds ticked by. "Felix…I know how you're feeling. When Edelgard—"
"Shut up," Felix spat through grit teeth, much to Byleth's surprise. "Don't pretend that we're the same. Your little girlfriend turned out to be evil, you slept for five damn years, and had months to come to terms with the fact that one of you wasn't going to make it out of this alive. I spent those years holding onto hope that maybe, just maybe it would all work out for her and I. But it didn't matter. I killed any chance there was of her making it out alive when I killed her myself."
Byleth bit her lip, speechless. He was right. She had spent months telling herself that Edelgard would be dead by the end of it all, but when the time had come, she had been reduced to tears. She wasn't over it even now. It was inevitable, after all—Edelgard was the one leading the Imperial Army, but in Felix's case…
A wavering smile appeared on his face. "It's her birthday today, you know. Twelfth of the Ethereal Moon. She would have been twenty-four."
Byleth's heart twinged with pain as she harkened back to stepping out from the throne room back in Enbarr and laid eyes on all of her beloved students. Some bore smiles on their faces, though others were not too joyful even though it was all over. Felix was one such individual. The look on his face was different from the rest, though. His eyes were dark and his mouth hung slightly open, his shoulders slack and his posture slouched. He had looked like he was about to faint.
"I did it not five minutes before you and The Boar showed your faces, you know. I didn't have to, but I did. I saw her there, fighting for her life, and…I wanted to be near her." Felix clenched his fist on the counter and grit his teeth. "But she was the enemy. I grabbed her by the arm and looked her in the eyes as I cut her throat. Th-the look on her face. Gods, the look on her face…"
Byleth remembered marching through the sea of bodies in the palace and drawing in a breath or stopping each time she came across someone she knew. Constance, Ferdinand, Linhardt. Their lifeless corpses were all laid out on the floor like they had not once been people that she knew and loved. There was something different about her body, though. While the others had gone down fighting, even in death, she looked more terrified than she usually was. Tears stained her pale face and fresh blood covered her neck. It was ghastly, making Byleth's stomach turn. The poor girl…
"She was able to escape the Battle at Gronder Field only to die just as it was all about to come to an end. Every single night I think to myself what could have been if I had just let her be. Would she have met an even worse fate? Or would she have lived to see another day?" Felix's voice wavered as a lump rose in his throat. "Would we be together now? Would I still be sitting alone in a tavern waiting for the next drink?"
Byleth gently placed a hand on his shoulder, his body beginning to shake as tears welled in his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut and let the tears fall onto the countertop before continuing.
"Professor…the betrayal in her eyes. I watched the light fade out with her blood on my hands. We loved each other and I murdered her in cold blood. How am I supposed to live with myself?"
The tears were flowing heavy now, and all Byleth could do was rub a comforting hand on his back before he sobbed her name.
"Bernadetta…" he choked out longingly, as if evoking her name would bring her back from the dead. "She didn't want to fight, damn it. She was only doing what was expected of her; I know that she wasn't doing it because it was a cause she believed in. And now she's dead, murdered at the hands of someone she loved. Gods, I'm no better than Edelgard."
Truthfully, Byleth wasn't sure what to say. Her heart ached for both Felix and his lost love, of course, but she felt as if any words she offered would only make things worse. She had never truly understood Felix during her time as his teacher. He had a sharp tongue and an abrasive attitude that seemed to have stuck around even once she returned from her five year absence, but now he was…vulnerable. He reminded her of Edelgard in that way. Most saw her as a cold and hardened princess turned emperor, but Byleth knew the warm and tender interior that laid beneath her armor.
She decided that it was best to remain silent and simply continue to stroke the man's back as he sobbed into his arms, not caring which stranger saw. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever, Byleth allowing herself to become lost in both the chatter of the patrons as well as Felix's staggered breaths. Finally, the shaking stopped. He stayed with his head in his arms for a while longer before taking a deep breath and rising, his eyes bloodshot.
"I…I'm going to go home now."
Byleth watched as he rose to his feet, wobbling for a brief moment before regaining his balance. "Would you like me to come with you? I'm not planning on sleeping for a while."
A younger Felix would have demanded she leave him at once, but not this one. Instead, he simply nodded. The two made their way towards the front door without a word—the bartender would know to just put the costs of Felix's drinking on his tab. When Byleth pushed through the swinging door, she raised her eyebrows upon seeing just who was standing on the other side.
"Professor! A-and Felix? You two are leaving?" Sylvain asked in surprise. "I was just about to come check on you."
"I'm fine, Sylvain," Felix mumbled. "Thank you for worrying about me."
"I was taking Felix home, actually. I figured he would be here based on what you told me…would you like to come with us?"
Sylvain blinked, still taken aback from the sight before him as well as the fact that Felix of all people had just thanked him for something. "Of course! Ah, I mean…yeah. That sounds good."
With a nod, Byleth continued on with Felix's arm around her shoulder as Sylvain turned around and began to walk with them. Since Felix's eyes were turned downward, he did not see when the redhead man gave their former professor an approving smile. Byleth smiled back.
Despite the circumstances, walking to Felix's residence with both him and Sylvain at her side was oddly nice. Though they barely spoke, their company alone was enough to lift her spirit. It had been quite a while since she had been alone with her friends, after all. Thus, she walked down the paved road with the moonlight shining down on her and a small smile on her face.
She had missed the feeling of a smile.
A/N: Bet ya didn't expect that by "sooner rather than later" I meant two days, huh? What can I say? I really liked this idea. Bernadetta and Felix is one of the few non-Edeleth pairings in Three Houses that I actually like quite a lot and I figured that I may as well portray another star-crossed couple in this fic, so you get this. I find myself getting sad each time I have to write about one of the dead Black Eagles, though. I love them so much that it hurts to write in a period in which they're not around anymore...but, oh well. This is an angst fic, after all.
This chapter's featured song is Uncomfortably Numb by American Football feat. Hayley Williams.