I'm sorry this chapter took so long; I found this one particularly challenging to write, and I kept working on other things whenever I got stuck. The good news is, I now have several other stories that are almost ready to publish, and hopefully the last chapter of this story will not take so long.
Felix sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees with his chin cradled in his hands. His heart was racing. Hearing the cries from Ferdinand's room made his stomach churn with dreadful anticipation. He hated the feeling; hated how weak it made him feel to be shaking with apprehension while he waited for his professor to come discipline him.
The other room had gone quiet, signaling the professor had finished dealing with Ferdinand, and would be moving on soon. Felix wondered if he or Claude would be next, and his chest tightened uncomfortably. With each moment that passed, he converted this nervous energy into anger, which was a feeling he was much more comfortable with. The result was that when Byleth finally knocked on the door, there may as well have been a dark cloud hovering around Felix's head.
After calling for him to enter, Felix did not acknowledge his professor's presence, simply continuing to stare ahead with his head resting on his hands. A moment of silence passed as Byleth sized up his student, making note of the boy's tense posture and dark expression.
"Felix, is there anything you would like to say?"
Felix did not look up, "No."
"Very well, please stand"
Felix stood, never looking at Byleth. He would take his punishment without complaint, and without showing any weakness. When Byleth announced the number of strokes, his only reaction was a small, sharp exhale, and he slowly, mechanically obeyed the command to bend over the bed while easing his trousers down to his knees. Bracing both arms against the mattress and staring intently down at the bedding, Felix fought the heat rising into his face at the exposed position. Cold cooperation would allow some emotional distance between himself and the situation; at least, that was his strategy.
Unfortunately for him, Byleth was formulating a strategy of his own. He observed the resistance in Felix's mannerisms even as he demonstrated outward compliance, following Byleth's instructions with jerky, forced movements and glaring straight ahead while avoiding eye contact. It was clear that Felix would not be as receptive to tonight's lesson as the other two boys had been, and it would take a bit of work to break his walls down enough to really get through to him clearly. But, this lesson was just as critical for Felix as for the other students, so Byleth intended to put in the necessary effort to do exactly that.
"Felix," Byleth began, "Do you understand why you're being punished?"
"Yes," Felix bit out.
"Please explain."
Felix snorted, "We both know why we're here. Just do it."
A sharp crack introduced a stinging stripe across Felix's backside and, caught off guard, he jumped with a little gasp.
"I asked you to explain."
Gritting his teeth, Felix pressed his arms harder into the mattress, determined not to allow any more signs of distress to escape. His answer was strained, very nearly a growl, and certainly displayed much more anger than remorse.
"We fought Derort. And we lost."
Another stripe snapped down below the first, and he winced slightly but otherwise held himself still.
"The outcome of the fight isn't the issue here: your punishment would have been the same whether you had won or lost," Byleth chided, "You know the right answer. Try again."
Felix huffed, shifting uncomfortably. As if this position was not humiliating enough, now the professor expected a confession? He balked at the prospect, but knew that Byleth would not move on until he was satisfied with Felix's response. He also knew that a satisfactory response would require some level of submission, which was the last thing he wanted to show in that moment, but he managed to swallow a bit of his pride and adopt a semi-respectful tone in an effort to get the ordeal over with as quickly as possible.
"You told us to stay away from him, and we... disobeyed you, and sought him out."
Byleth hummed an affirmation, "Good. Let's begin then."
The message in those words was clear: Those two swats were for the attitude.
Felix just scowled. When the crop landed again, he clenched his eyes shut and tucked his chin down. He would not allow any signs of weakness to escape. He was determined to take the whipping in stoic silence.
For the first two students, Byleth had delivered the discipline without much lecturing. Linhardt and Ferdinand had both been fairly repentant from the beginning, accepting the lesson with appropriate submission. Felix, on the other hand, seemed completely determined against submission, and would require a bit more guidance to fully learn tonight's lesson.
With that in mind, Byleth began a much slower rhythm than he had used with either of the other boy's whipping, allowing the pauses between stripes to stretch on for several seconds to let Felix feel every bit of the crop's sting settling into his skin. After landing the first few blows in silence, he spoke again, his tone soft but unyielding and his words punctuated by the steady snap of the crop across his student's exposed skin.
"I'm disappointed we even have to have this conversation, Felix. You really ought to know better by now."
The only sign that Felix heard his professor's words was a tiny grunt. For Byleth, that was enough of an indication that he had the boy's full attention, and he continued.
"Even if I had not expressly forbidden you from engaging Derort–which I did–you know you are never to run off on your own. None of us had any idea where you had gone; if I hadn't found you when I did, all four of you would be dead right now!"
This biting statement was accompanied by three successive stripes across the tops of Felix's thighs, and the boy winced and gasped despite his efforts towards stoicism. Not only was the fire in his ass growing more difficult to ignore, the professor's words reminded him starkly of how completely he and the others had failed today. He felt the sting of that failure as sharply as the sting of the crop, but there was another feeling welling up inside him that he was wholly unprepared to deal with. Byleth's words fueled a sinking feeling in his stomach that was uncomfortably akin to guilt. He was accustomed to the professor remaining unshakable in every situation, so it was unsettling to see him so affected, and even worse to know that he was the cause of the anxiety he had seen so clearly etched on his professor's features.
Felix shifted slightly as both his physical and mental discomfort continued to grow. Noticing Felix's labored breath and small movements, Byleth surmised that he was finally starting to get through to the young man, and he breathed a small sigh of relief. They were already more than halfway through the whipping, and he had no desire to lengthen the punishment to deal with his student's unyielding stubbornness.
"Listen to me, Felix," he continued while maintaining the slow, persistent rhythm of stripes across the boy's ass, "You may not value your life very highly, but I can assure you that I do, and I absolutely will not tolerate you acting so carelessly with it."
Felix's breath caught in his throat. The heaviness in his stomach was worsening, and the pressure that constricted his throat began to build up behind his eyes. In spite of his efforts, his body began to jerk slightly with every snap of the crop against his burning skin.
Byleth carefully monitored his student's response as he chose his next words, "Are you so eager for a fight it's worth more to you to face a strong opponent than to live on for the things and people that really matter? Is your own life worth so little to you, Felix? Because it's worth much more to me, and as long as you're in my care I will not allow you to throw it needlessly away to satisfy your ceaseless desire for combat."
As the snap of the crop resounded with Byleth's last word, something happened inside of Felix. Perhaps it was the professor's words that fueled the tightening in his chest, or the memory of feeling so helpless before Derort as he tore them all apart. Perhaps it was the forced vulnerability that came with being bared and whipped like a naughty child, but whatever the reason, Felix finally broke.
A tiny cry broke free from his lips at the stripe that landed across the middle of his ass and, as if that cry had been the cork holding it all in, the pressure that had been building up inside him poured out in the form of a long, shaky sob. The rigid line of his shoulders melted, and he pressed his forehead into the mattress.
Relief softened Byleth's features. He had known from the beginning that Felix would not accept the correction as readily as the other students had, and had wondered if the boy's stubbornness and pride would allow him to learn anything at all from the discipline. With only seven strokes left in the allotted whipping, he had certainly been cutting it close, but it seemed Felix was finally ready to submit to his punishment.
Pausing for a moment to rest his hand on his student's back, Byleth questioned, "I asked you before if you had anything to say. Is there something you would like to tell me now?"
"Sorry…" Felix mumbled into the bedding, " I-I'm sorry, Professor…"
Byleth nodded "What are you sorry for, Felix?"
Felix grimaced and tucked his head down with an incoherent mutter.
A swish and snap accompanied the fresh line of fire that blazed across his already burning skin, and his head popped up with a gasped yelp.
"I didn't quite hear you, why don't you try again?"
Squirming slightly in a subconscious effort to alleviate the stinging in his ass, Felix took a shaky breath and stumbled through his apology in a low, unsteady voice, "I'm sorry for… for being reckless and… for disobeying you…"
"Good. Next time I tell you not to do something, you will listen to me, yes?" As he spoke, Byleth brought the crop down twice across the lower curve of Felix's ass, making the boy grunt and jerk as the implement bit into skin already throbbing from previous stripes.
"Ah! Yes sir!"
Stoicism forgotten, little cries and grunts tumbled from Felix's mouth as the last four strokes fell, and he pressed up against the professor's hand still resting firmly on his back.
"I don't give orders for no reason, Felix," Byleth concluded as he delivered the final swats, "I value you and the others above all else. The things I tell you to do–and not to do–are for your own good. Do you understand me?"
"Yes sir!" Felix groaned, his body collapsing against the bed. There was no tension left in him; his fight was completely spent.
"Good boy," Byleth murmured, and dropped the crop on the floor. He sat on the bed and slowly rubbed his hand up and down his student's back, feeling the irregular rhythm of the boy's ragged breath. Having already given a thorough lecture during the whipping, he sat in silence for a while, allowing Felix a moment to process and breath deeply.
Felix had never been good at accepting comfort, by the professor's hand on his back was so soothing, and the physical and emotional toll of the punishment left him feeling so drained. With a long, heavy sigh, he allowed his body to melt against the bed beneath him.
To Byleth, the signs of submission were evidence enough that the lesson had been thoroughly learned. As he felt the boy's breathing returning to a more steady rhythm, he placed his other hand on the back of Felix's head and murmured, "I know you want to be strong all the time, but we all have opponents we can't face, and it takes wisdom to know when to step away from a fight. I'm afraid I find your life more valuable than your ego, so I will do whatever I need to to make sure you start exercising that wisdom. Is that clear?"
"Yes sir," Felix muttered. An overwhelming tiredness was seeping into his limbs, and his eyelids suddenly felt very heavy.
Seeing that his student was fading fast, Byleth guided him gently up onto the bed. He stroked his hand gently down the boy's back one more time before straightening.
"Alright, rest now. It's been a long day."
With a long sigh, Felix settled himself on his stomach and let his eyes fall shut. The strange sense of peaceful security that had settled over him drained every drop of tension from his limbs, and tired as he was, he allowed himself to succumb to those feelings.
Byleth noted the tiny hint of a contented smile touching his student's features as the boy drifted into sleep, and he shook his head with a short sigh. The lesson was certainly a difficult one, but seeing Felix's always-scowling face with such a peaceful, relaxed expression reminded him how much these boys needed to learn it, no matter how much they might protest to the contrary.
With this in mind, Byleth quietly exited Felix's room and turned to Claude's door. He still had one more errant student to teach this crucial lesson to tonight.