Felix runs the blade's edge across the whetstone with precision. Once, twice. Over and over.
Shrrk.
When the Blue Lions returned from Remire Village a few hours ago, the professor invited the whole class to dinner together in the dining hall. Dinner. How could anyone possibly think about food at a time like this? How could anyone stand to be in the same room with that boar after he finally gave them all a peek at his true colors like that?
Shrrk.
It's like none of them even noticed. Even now, none of them seem to have any idea how close they were to witnessing their beloved prince cutting down villagers like pigs at slaughter. No remorse. No mercy. No humanity left in those empty eyes of his.
Just like the rampaging villagers themselves. Just like Tomas, the kindly librarian, who turned out to be as false as the smile on the boar's face.
Shrrk.
So Felix skipped dinner and went straight to his room to focus on maintaining his blades. Someone around here has to take all of this as seriously as it deserves. Someone has to keep a close eye on the boar--and step in to stop him, if necessary. If even the professor refuses to do it, then it falls to Felix.
This time, he won't be a coward. He won't fail again.
Sylvain did go to dinner, but he didn't eat much. He picked at his plate, his mind a dark stormy swirl of worries. He glances at the professor, at Dimitri, at the rest of their class. He can't keep his thoughts straight, and he can't swallow down the nasty taste at the back of his throat.
Felix isn't here. He doesn't show after a short time passes, either.
Excusing himself early, Sylvain hands off his mostly untouched plate to Ingrid and heads back to the dorms. Either Felix is here, or he's back at the training grounds, but he hopes Felix is in his room.
The sound of a whetstone on steel tells Sylvain he guessed correctly. He wipes the fake smile from his face, knowing Felix will want none of that, and knocks. "Felix, it's me."
The sound of the whetstone pauses. Felix wasn't expecting to talk to anyone for the rest of the night. He was fine with that. More than fine with it. If no one's going to acknowledge the beast they have among them, what is there to talk about?
If it were anyone else, he'd simply tell them to leave him alone and that would be that. A part of him wants to do it anyway, but he can't quite bring himself to just flat-out turn Sylvain away.
Sylvain rather expects to be told to bugger off, so it's a pleasant surprise when he isn't. He rests his palm against the door and sighs quietly.
"To see you. To get away from the all the sounds and people in the mess hall."
He wants to ask if Felix is okay, but he knows that's a stupid fucking question. Of course he isn't. None of them are, really. Sylvain bites his lip and plays a card from close to his chest.
"I want to not pretend like everything is fine, for a little bit."
Felix shoots a suspicious glare at the closed door. Sylvain left behind a room full of girls who would probably fall all over themselves for him to 'comfort' them or some nonsense, just to see him? Fat chance.
"That's a first."
But he sets aside sword and whetstone to get up and cross the room. He doesn't bother greeting Sylvain properly, just opens the door and then turns back to return to his blade.
Shrrk.
"Nothing has been 'fine' for years. Finally got sick of acting like a vacuous fool?"
At first, Sylvain chuckles. Yeah, yeah, it's a first, he gets it. Normal Felix abuse. It hits differently with his false smile off his face. His armor is down and he's vulnerable to blows.
He has to look away, even with Felix's back turned. No, nothing has been fine for a long time. Longer even than Felix was aware of it, certainly. Ever since Sylvain's crest first manifested. He bites the inside of his cheek to maintain some control on his expression.
"Only for a little while. I'm sure I'll be back to it soon enough, to balance everyone else's gloom." He flashes his fake smile at Felix, but it's gone in a moment, and he sits, staring at his boots. Damnit he's so bad at this, he doesn't know what to do!
It's the silence that makes Felix look up from his task and put the whetstone down again, though the sword remains across his lap for now. Sylvain is almost never silent. Much to Felix's frequent annoyance, although if he were being totally honest, he'd rather have Sylvain's obnoxious chatter than nothing at all.
"Oh, is that why? I assumed it was because you think girls like you better that way." It lacks true venom, though, even if there is a faint undercurrent of something sharper. Mostly it just comes out of his mouth before he thinks about it. But Sylvain looks much more beaten down than usual, and while Felix loathes his false persona, the thought that Sylvain might be too disheartened to bother trying is...uncomfortable.
"...so. You've seen the boar for what he is." It's quieter than he intended.
Which is exactly why he does it. Whether his friends know it or not, Sylvain is sure that they prefer his chattering and jokes to the alternatives. Silence and solemn brooding. They manage enough of that on their own.
Sylvain winces. He wonders if this was a mistake. He's too vulnerable like this, easily letting things slip by that he normally wouldn't admit to. "Of course they do. Ladies hate awkward silences, and I could never pull off the dark and brooding thing you have going," his tease lacks heart, though, and he only manages a glance up at Felix's face before he can't maintain it.
"I've certainly seen something." His leg jiggles. "You've seen him like that before." It's a question, but he says it like a statement.
Felix scoffs. "As if I could care any less about what women or anyone else thinks of me."
His lips press together into a thin line, jaw tensing. He probably should have told Sylvain about this a long time ago. Like during the years after the Tragedy when he wrote frequent letters to Gautier because Sylvain was the only one left who would answer them. Or during their trip to Garreg Mach at the beginning of the school year. Or at literally any time between then and now, in response to the multiple times Sylvain tried to ask what his problem with Dimitri was.
Instead, he has to do it now, when they're both raw and reeling.
Felix fixes a glare on a spot somewhere across the room. "I have. You remember the Western Rebellion, I'm sure. How everyone praised their precious prince for how effective he was in putting it down."
He's glad he didn't eat dinner, because the words taste like bile on his tongue and he feels like he might throw up.
"I was there. It was our first battle. My old man sent me as his squire." And Felix was so excited at the time. What a naive fool he was. "What you saw today was nothing compared to that day."
But he does care, and Sylvain knows it. If Felix didn't care, he wouldn't be so angry about Dimitri. That's only proving more true now that Sylvain has an idea of what exactly it was that Dimitri even did to get Felix to treat him that way. He knows Felix cares what others think, too, because he never yells at Dimitri in front of anyone outside of their house. Only in front of Sylvain and Ingrid, really.
Felix has always cared and always will, and that's why Sylvain puts up with all his bullying.
He listens with his own jaw tense and his leg jiggling nervously in front of him. "I remember." Their maiden battle. He had wanted so much to be there for them, at the time. Wondered so many times if maybe he could have made a difference by being there. He drags his fingers through his hair, tugging at it as if that will ground his swirling thoughts.
"That... explains a lot of things." Mostly it explains why Felix has acted the way he has ever since Glenn's death. He feels betrayed- like he lost both of his favorite people on the same day.
"Would you stop that?" Felix turns his glare on Sylvain's leg, as if he could stop its movement with his eyes alone. This nervous habit of Sylvain's has always irritated him to some degree, but right now the agitation is just too much on top of everything else.
But then he relaxes a little, exhaling quietly. At least Sylvain hasn't told him he's overreacting, or that he must be mistaken about what he saw, or any of the other maddening things his father said when he tried to explain. And this is why he'll let Sylvain into his room when he would have turned anyone else away. For all that he jokes too much and messes around, he always takes what Felix has to say seriously when it counts.
"And even so, those blind fools will go on as though nothing happened. Pathetic sycophants, all of them. They'll walk into the classroom tomorrow with that boar in their midst and act like he wasn't about to butcher the whole village like a beast and enjoy it."
Sylvain frowns. "It's either this or pace." He shrugs. Nervous energy has to go somewhere, surely Felix "train himself to exhaustion" Fraldarius can understand that.
He does relax the leg eventually, though, so he can rest his elbows on his knees as he drags hands through his hair, now thoroughly messed. He hands his head and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. It's a lot to take in. He isn't sure Felix completely has the right of it, but at the moment he likes it better than all the false calm that's happening in the dining hall.
"He's still Dimitri," he says it as if he's trying to convince himself. "It... it did scare me. Of course it did. I..." He can't just write Dimitri off as a bloodthirsty monster! He knows Felix hasn't either, not really. He shakes his head helplessly.
"He's not." Felix's hand clenches tightly around the hilt of the sword in his lap, although he doesn't do anything with it. "Look into his eyes the next time you see him. They're empty. All those polite smiles he wears to put on a show for everyone are a mask. Not even a very convincing one, when you know enough to look. The Dimitri we remember is dead."
He finally turns his head to meet Sylvain's gaze, only to find himself looking at a not-so-artfully messy head of hair instead. A frown breaks through his stony expression. He hasn't seen Sylvain like this since...he's not sure when. It's unsettling.
Felix abruptly puts the sword down on his bed and stands. "Get up. We're going outside."
He's likely not seen Sylvain like this since they were all very young. Before Sylvain was so skilled at creating and wearing his own masks. He makes quite the effort to protect his friends from his own anguish, after all. He didn't even let them see how Miklan's fate affected him.
The inside of his cheek is going raw from his gnawing, and he struggles with what to say. He doesn't want to be too vulnerable! Felix is suffering enough without him adding to that burden.
Felix's voice does get him to look up, sparks still in his eyes from the pressure, and a frown on his face. He obeys, though, standing up and shoving his hands into his pockets.
Felix leads them out of the dormitories, down toward the pond. He doesn't actually have any destination in mind, he just needed to get Sylvain out doing something other than wallowing in his thoughts. Maybe this isn't much better, but it's something.
He crosses his arms tightly over his chest as they walk, saying nothing for a little while. What else is there to say? Dimitri's gone, he's been gone, everyone has seen it now but they're burying their heads in the sand, and the only good thing about all of this is that if Felix confronted the prince about it now, maybe he'd get a straight answer for once.
Which is not the kind of 'good thing' he was, deep down, hoping for.
Felix has no idea how to make anyone feel any better, much less a Sylvain who's so miserable he can't even pretend not to be. And Felix loathes small talk, so...he thinks maybe he'll just wait until Sylvain says something.
It does help, to be moving his legs, to have something to look at other than the floor or the inside of his own eyelids. The water of the pond is soothing, and Sylvain stops to watch it ripple. It's far too dark to see any of the fish swimming around, but the soft sounds of waves against the dock are calming in their predictability.
Men of Faerghus don't talk about things, much less things like feelings. That has always been something Sylvain resents, in his heart, but never more than in this very moment. He glances sideways at Felix, at his taught expression and tightly crossed arms. There was a time when he always knew how to comfort Felix, what to do to soothe his worries and make him smile again. Somewhere along the way, Felix stopped feeling like he could accept that affection, and Sylvain felt like he could no longer give it.
He kicks a stray stone into the pond, listens to the plonk of it hitting the water. "We're both Goddess-damned awful at this, aren't we?" He asks, his tone lighter than before but nowhere near his usual vapid falseness.
Felix feels like he never knew how to talk to people or think about feelings, not really. He just didn't used to care that he didn't. He used to accept stumbling through his life clinging to others for the comfort he didn't know how to give himself. Now he just...rejects the need for it.
The sound of the stone hitting the water jars him from his thoughts, and he turns his head slightly toward Sylvain, eyeing his best friend through the stray strands of his own hair tossed about in the breeze.
"Hmph. I can't agree. Our efforts to stew in silence seem to have been a complete success."
The hint of a wry smile plays at the corners of his lips.
Now, hasn't it been a long time since he's heard that kind of humor from Felix? It's a pleasant surprise in a day full of very unpleasant surprises, and it pulls a barking laugh out of Sylvain. It isn't joyful by any means, but it does shake off some of his brooding shroud.
"And aren't we just masters of that one?" His laughter abates with a sigh. An arm is lifted and placed over Felix's shoulders.
"I'm really glad I have you, Felix." He couldn't handle any of this alone. Couldn't have handled so many things that have already passed.
It feels good to have made Sylvain laugh. Not the fake, insipid laugh he uses to placate girls he doesn't even like, but a real one. At least, he thinks, even if Dimitri is gone, he still has Sylvain.
Which is a thought they apparently share. His eyes widen a little at this display of camaraderie. Normally, when Sylvain pulls this sort of thing, it's in jest - a deliberate tease, a way to rile him up on purpose, and he always shrugs it off. This is different. This is something no one's done in years.
Felix stays put and lets Sylvain do it. It takes him a moment to find any words; Sylvain hasn't been this blatantly genuine in years, either. Eventually, he says, "...you should be. You're foolish enough with me around. Without me you'd be even worse."
Which, of course, implies that Felix intends to stay by Sylvain's side, just as he always has.
Felix doesn't shrug him off, which is another pleasant surprise. Sylvain pushes his luck and curls his arm a bit more, pulling Felix in closer, and letting his forearm dangle down the other man's chest, his fingertips brushing against the front of his vest.
He chuckles, a little more humor in it this time but still a dark thing. "I don't know, Felix, sometimes I think I do foolish stuff because you're around."
Yeah, that's painfully genuine. Sylvain swallows hard and looks deliberately forward, and not at Felix. "I don't know what I'd do without you, though."
He does know, actually. He'd be dead. He'd have done something too reckless, or gotten hurt too badly by Miklan and not had a good enough reason to fight for survival, or something.
This is starting to seem like something more than just a display of camaraderie, although what exactly that something might be, Felix doesn't know. Is Sylvain angling for a hug or something? Felix's eyes stray down to look at Sylvain's hand where it rests against his chest and...strangely doesn't hate it.
And if he's being as honest as Sylvain is right now, he doesn't know what he'd do without his best friend either. Isolate himself completely, probably, or...transfer to another house maybe. But hearing it from Sylvain like this...painfully genuine is right.
That other admission, though, puts a scowl back on Felix's face. "What's that supposed to mean, you act that way because I'm around? Don't put the responsibility for your foolishness on me." But he still doesn't push Sylvain away, and it's not as venomous as his admonishments usually sound.
"...and fortunately for you, you won't have to find out. I'm not going anywhere."
Sylvain's shoulders shake like he's laughing, but it's so quiet that no sound really comes out of him. "I wouldn't dream of blaming any of my behavior on you." Much as he does love to outsource blame.
He turns his head slightly, looking a little bit down at the slightly shorter man next to him. They're very close, with Sylvain's arm looped around him the way it is, and he fights to ignore the way that feels like a warm blanket wrapped tight around him. He grins, the low light catching in his asymmetrical dimple.
"Good, cause you couldn't get rid of me if you tried."
That small smile tugs at the corners of his lips again, as he glances over and up at Sylvain. It's then that he notices what Sylvain's noticed - how close they are. He hopes the sudden warmth in his face isn't visible. That would be mortifying enough for him to shove Sylvain into the pond, probably.
...hard to look away from that grin, though, when it's so sincere. So for the moment, he doesn't.
That tight feeling around his chest squeezes harder. Felix looks soft in a way he hasn't since Sylvain can't even remember when. The angry lines that have become the default on his face are for the moment ironed out, and the tiniest of smiles turns his lips away from the ever-present frown. His heart pangs in his ribcage.
There's a weight to the moment, again like a blanket pressing down on him. Some kind of gravity that keeps him still, even when he feels to embarrassed to maintain the closeness. He realizes all at once how long they've been standing so close, looking at each other's faces, and with another pang he looks away out over the pond again, chuckling in a way he hopes isn't nervous.
"I guess we just take it one day at a time, from here." Cause Sylvain sure doesn't have a plan.
It's easier for Felix to look Sylvain in the eye than anyone else, but even so, he's never done it quite like this. He's not sure why he feels...disappointed, when Sylvain turns away. What else was he expecting? But for some reason, the thought puts a dent in the slightly warmer mood he was in a moment ago. That, and the weird way Sylvain is chuckling. Felix can't put his finger on why it's odd, but it is.
Still, at least Sylvain doesn't seem so out of sorts anymore, and that was the goal of coming out here, after all. A victory, then. Felix can be satisfied with that.
"I suppose so. What will you do about the boar?" About seeing him every day, he means. Will Sylvain, too, just go on acting like nothing happened when Dimitri is around? The thought makes Felix feel sick.
Felix isn't back to being fully angry, but he does seem to prickle back up a little under the arm Sylvain has thrown around his shoulders. He frowns thoughtfully out across the water, squinting at nothing as if the air itself could produce answers for him.
He sighs and gestures helplessly with his free hand. "I don't know," he admits. "I'm still sort of processing everything that happened. Obviously something... snapped, in him. If everything else is going to hell in this handbasket, though, we can't afford to be turning against each other." It isn't the answer Felix wants to hear, he's sure, but he can't just put up walls and stick out porcupine quills like Felix does. The kingdom needs Dimitri, even if he's not in his right mind.
"Hmph. You would think the Professor would do something about him."
Felix has been trying to impress upon the Professor how close an eye they should be keeping on Dimitri for moons, but they never seem to understand. Maybe now they will, but he's not going to hold his breath.
"Ugh. Forget it. Talking about him is making me sick."
This is the part where Felix would normally turn and storm off. With Sylvain's arm around him like this, though, he finds he doesn't really want to. So he stays put.
And usually, he'd never bother casting about for something to say, either. But the only thing in his mind that isn't either Dimitri or how close he and Sylvain are still standing is Remire, and the point of bringing Sylvain out here was to get him to stop wallowing about everything.
So he just stays quiet, looking out over the pond and trying not to think too hard about how warm Sylvain is in contrast to the chilly evening air.
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25 Red Wolf Moon, Imperial Year 1180
Felix runs the blade's edge across the whetstone with precision. Once, twice. Over and over.
Shrrk.
When the Blue Lions returned from Remire Village a few hours ago, the professor invited the whole class to dinner together in the dining hall. Dinner. How could anyone possibly think about food at a time like this? How could anyone stand to be in the same room with that boar after he finally gave them all a peek at his true colors like that?
Shrrk.
It's like none of them even noticed. Even now, none of them seem to have any idea how close they were to witnessing their beloved prince cutting down villagers like pigs at slaughter. No remorse. No mercy. No humanity left in those empty eyes of his.
Just like the rampaging villagers themselves. Just like Tomas, the kindly librarian, who turned out to be as false as the smile on the boar's face.
Shrrk.
So Felix skipped dinner and went straight to his room to focus on maintaining his blades. Someone around here has to take all of this as seriously as it deserves. Someone has to keep a close eye on the boar--and step in to stop him, if necessary. If even the professor refuses to do it, then it falls to Felix.
This time, he won't be a coward. He won't fail again.
I suck I'm sorry
Sylvain did go to dinner, but he didn't eat much. He picked at his plate, his mind a dark stormy swirl of worries. He glances at the professor, at Dimitri, at the rest of their class. He can't keep his thoughts straight, and he can't swallow down the nasty taste at the back of his throat.
Felix isn't here. He doesn't show after a short time passes, either.
Excusing himself early, Sylvain hands off his mostly untouched plate to Ingrid and heads back to the dorms. Either Felix is here, or he's back at the training grounds, but he hopes Felix is in his room.
The sound of a whetstone on steel tells Sylvain he guessed correctly. He wipes the fake smile from his face, knowing Felix will want none of that, and knocks. "Felix, it's me."
no worries! <3
If it were anyone else, he'd simply tell them to leave him alone and that would be that. A part of him wants to do it anyway, but he can't quite bring himself to just flat-out turn Sylvain away.
"What do you want, Sylvain?"
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Sylvain rather expects to be told to bugger off, so it's a pleasant surprise when he isn't. He rests his palm against the door and sighs quietly.
"To see you. To get away from the all the sounds and people in the mess hall."
He wants to ask if Felix is okay, but he knows that's a stupid fucking question. Of course he isn't. None of them are, really. Sylvain bites his lip and plays a card from close to his chest.
"I want to not pretend like everything is fine, for a little bit."
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"That's a first."
But he sets aside sword and whetstone to get up and cross the room. He doesn't bother greeting Sylvain properly, just opens the door and then turns back to return to his blade.
Shrrk.
"Nothing has been 'fine' for years. Finally got sick of acting like a vacuous fool?"
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At first, Sylvain chuckles. Yeah, yeah, it's a first, he gets it. Normal Felix abuse. It hits differently with his false smile off his face. His armor is down and he's vulnerable to blows.
He has to look away, even with Felix's back turned. No, nothing has been fine for a long time. Longer even than Felix was aware of it, certainly. Ever since Sylvain's crest first manifested. He bites the inside of his cheek to maintain some control on his expression.
"Only for a little while. I'm sure I'll be back to it soon enough, to balance everyone else's gloom." He flashes his fake smile at Felix, but it's gone in a moment, and he sits, staring at his boots. Damnit he's so bad at this, he doesn't know what to do!
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"Oh, is that why? I assumed it was because you think girls like you better that way." It lacks true venom, though, even if there is a faint undercurrent of something sharper. Mostly it just comes out of his mouth before he thinks about it. But Sylvain looks much more beaten down than usual, and while Felix loathes his false persona, the thought that Sylvain might be too disheartened to bother trying is...uncomfortable.
"...so. You've seen the boar for what he is." It's quieter than he intended.
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Which is exactly why he does it. Whether his friends know it or not, Sylvain is sure that they prefer his chattering and jokes to the alternatives. Silence and solemn brooding. They manage enough of that on their own.
Sylvain winces. He wonders if this was a mistake. He's too vulnerable like this, easily letting things slip by that he normally wouldn't admit to. "Of course they do. Ladies hate awkward silences, and I could never pull off the dark and brooding thing you have going," his tease lacks heart, though, and he only manages a glance up at Felix's face before he can't maintain it.
"I've certainly seen something." His leg jiggles. "You've seen him like that before." It's a question, but he says it like a statement.
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His lips press together into a thin line, jaw tensing. He probably should have told Sylvain about this a long time ago. Like during the years after the Tragedy when he wrote frequent letters to Gautier because Sylvain was the only one left who would answer them. Or during their trip to Garreg Mach at the beginning of the school year. Or at literally any time between then and now, in response to the multiple times Sylvain tried to ask what his problem with Dimitri was.
Instead, he has to do it now, when they're both raw and reeling.
Felix fixes a glare on a spot somewhere across the room. "I have. You remember the Western Rebellion, I'm sure. How everyone praised their precious prince for how effective he was in putting it down."
He's glad he didn't eat dinner, because the words taste like bile on his tongue and he feels like he might throw up.
"I was there. It was our first battle. My old man sent me as his squire." And Felix was so excited at the time. What a naive fool he was. "What you saw today was nothing compared to that day."
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But he does care, and Sylvain knows it. If Felix didn't care, he wouldn't be so angry about Dimitri. That's only proving more true now that Sylvain has an idea of what exactly it was that Dimitri even did to get Felix to treat him that way. He knows Felix cares what others think, too, because he never yells at Dimitri in front of anyone outside of their house. Only in front of Sylvain and Ingrid, really.
Felix has always cared and always will, and that's why Sylvain puts up with all his bullying.
He listens with his own jaw tense and his leg jiggling nervously in front of him. "I remember." Their maiden battle. He had wanted so much to be there for them, at the time. Wondered so many times if maybe he could have made a difference by being there. He drags his fingers through his hair, tugging at it as if that will ground his swirling thoughts.
"That... explains a lot of things." Mostly it explains why Felix has acted the way he has ever since Glenn's death. He feels betrayed- like he lost both of his favorite people on the same day.
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But then he relaxes a little, exhaling quietly. At least Sylvain hasn't told him he's overreacting, or that he must be mistaken about what he saw, or any of the other maddening things his father said when he tried to explain. And this is why he'll let Sylvain into his room when he would have turned anyone else away. For all that he jokes too much and messes around, he always takes what Felix has to say seriously when it counts.
"And even so, those blind fools will go on as though nothing happened. Pathetic sycophants, all of them. They'll walk into the classroom tomorrow with that boar in their midst and act like he wasn't about to butcher the whole village like a beast and enjoy it."
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Sylvain frowns. "It's either this or pace." He shrugs. Nervous energy has to go somewhere, surely Felix "train himself to exhaustion" Fraldarius can understand that.
He does relax the leg eventually, though, so he can rest his elbows on his knees as he drags hands through his hair, now thoroughly messed. He hands his head and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. It's a lot to take in. He isn't sure Felix completely has the right of it, but at the moment he likes it better than all the false calm that's happening in the dining hall.
"He's still Dimitri," he says it as if he's trying to convince himself. "It... it did scare me. Of course it did. I..." He can't just write Dimitri off as a bloodthirsty monster! He knows Felix hasn't either, not really. He shakes his head helplessly.
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He finally turns his head to meet Sylvain's gaze, only to find himself looking at a not-so-artfully messy head of hair instead. A frown breaks through his stony expression. He hasn't seen Sylvain like this since...he's not sure when. It's unsettling.
Felix abruptly puts the sword down on his bed and stands. "Get up. We're going outside."
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He's likely not seen Sylvain like this since they were all very young. Before Sylvain was so skilled at creating and wearing his own masks. He makes quite the effort to protect his friends from his own anguish, after all. He didn't even let them see how Miklan's fate affected him.
The inside of his cheek is going raw from his gnawing, and he struggles with what to say. He doesn't want to be too vulnerable! Felix is suffering enough without him adding to that burden.
Felix's voice does get him to look up, sparks still in his eyes from the pressure, and a frown on his face. He obeys, though, standing up and shoving his hands into his pockets.
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He crosses his arms tightly over his chest as they walk, saying nothing for a little while. What else is there to say? Dimitri's gone, he's been gone, everyone has seen it now but they're burying their heads in the sand, and the only good thing about all of this is that if Felix confronted the prince about it now, maybe he'd get a straight answer for once.
Which is not the kind of 'good thing' he was, deep down, hoping for.
Felix has no idea how to make anyone feel any better, much less a Sylvain who's so miserable he can't even pretend not to be. And Felix loathes small talk, so...he thinks maybe he'll just wait until Sylvain says something.
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It does help, to be moving his legs, to have something to look at other than the floor or the inside of his own eyelids. The water of the pond is soothing, and Sylvain stops to watch it ripple. It's far too dark to see any of the fish swimming around, but the soft sounds of waves against the dock are calming in their predictability.
Men of Faerghus don't talk about things, much less things like feelings. That has always been something Sylvain resents, in his heart, but never more than in this very moment. He glances sideways at Felix, at his taught expression and tightly crossed arms. There was a time when he always knew how to comfort Felix, what to do to soothe his worries and make him smile again. Somewhere along the way, Felix stopped feeling like he could accept that affection, and Sylvain felt like he could no longer give it.
He kicks a stray stone into the pond, listens to the plonk of it hitting the water. "We're both Goddess-damned awful at this, aren't we?" He asks, his tone lighter than before but nowhere near his usual vapid falseness.
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The sound of the stone hitting the water jars him from his thoughts, and he turns his head slightly toward Sylvain, eyeing his best friend through the stray strands of his own hair tossed about in the breeze.
"Hmph. I can't agree. Our efforts to stew in silence seem to have been a complete success."
The hint of a wry smile plays at the corners of his lips.
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Now, hasn't it been a long time since he's heard that kind of humor from Felix? It's a pleasant surprise in a day full of very unpleasant surprises, and it pulls a barking laugh out of Sylvain. It isn't joyful by any means, but it does shake off some of his brooding shroud.
"And aren't we just masters of that one?" His laughter abates with a sigh. An arm is lifted and placed over Felix's shoulders.
"I'm really glad I have you, Felix." He couldn't handle any of this alone. Couldn't have handled so many things that have already passed.
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Which is a thought they apparently share. His eyes widen a little at this display of camaraderie. Normally, when Sylvain pulls this sort of thing, it's in jest - a deliberate tease, a way to rile him up on purpose, and he always shrugs it off. This is different. This is something no one's done in years.
Felix stays put and lets Sylvain do it. It takes him a moment to find any words; Sylvain hasn't been this blatantly genuine in years, either. Eventually, he says, "...you should be. You're foolish enough with me around. Without me you'd be even worse."
Which, of course, implies that Felix intends to stay by Sylvain's side, just as he always has.
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Felix doesn't shrug him off, which is another pleasant surprise. Sylvain pushes his luck and curls his arm a bit more, pulling Felix in closer, and letting his forearm dangle down the other man's chest, his fingertips brushing against the front of his vest.
He chuckles, a little more humor in it this time but still a dark thing. "I don't know, Felix, sometimes I think I do foolish stuff because you're around."
Yeah, that's painfully genuine. Sylvain swallows hard and looks deliberately forward, and not at Felix. "I don't know what I'd do without you, though."
He does know, actually. He'd be dead. He'd have done something too reckless, or gotten hurt too badly by Miklan and not had a good enough reason to fight for survival, or something.
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And if he's being as honest as Sylvain is right now, he doesn't know what he'd do without his best friend either. Isolate himself completely, probably, or...transfer to another house maybe. But hearing it from Sylvain like this...painfully genuine is right.
That other admission, though, puts a scowl back on Felix's face. "What's that supposed to mean, you act that way because I'm around? Don't put the responsibility for your foolishness on me." But he still doesn't push Sylvain away, and it's not as venomous as his admonishments usually sound.
"...and fortunately for you, you won't have to find out. I'm not going anywhere."
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Sylvain's shoulders shake like he's laughing, but it's so quiet that no sound really comes out of him. "I wouldn't dream of blaming any of my behavior on you." Much as he does love to outsource blame.
He turns his head slightly, looking a little bit down at the slightly shorter man next to him. They're very close, with Sylvain's arm looped around him the way it is, and he fights to ignore the way that feels like a warm blanket wrapped tight around him. He grins, the low light catching in his asymmetrical dimple.
"Good, cause you couldn't get rid of me if you tried."
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That small smile tugs at the corners of his lips again, as he glances over and up at Sylvain. It's then that he notices what Sylvain's noticed - how close they are. He hopes the sudden warmth in his face isn't visible. That would be mortifying enough for him to shove Sylvain into the pond, probably.
...hard to look away from that grin, though, when it's so sincere. So for the moment, he doesn't.
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That tight feeling around his chest squeezes harder. Felix looks soft in a way he hasn't since Sylvain can't even remember when. The angry lines that have become the default on his face are for the moment ironed out, and the tiniest of smiles turns his lips away from the ever-present frown. His heart pangs in his ribcage.
There's a weight to the moment, again like a blanket pressing down on him. Some kind of gravity that keeps him still, even when he feels to embarrassed to maintain the closeness. He realizes all at once how long they've been standing so close, looking at each other's faces, and with another pang he looks away out over the pond again, chuckling in a way he hopes isn't nervous.
"I guess we just take it one day at a time, from here." Cause Sylvain sure doesn't have a plan.
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Still, at least Sylvain doesn't seem so out of sorts anymore, and that was the goal of coming out here, after all. A victory, then. Felix can be satisfied with that.
"I suppose so. What will you do about the boar?" About seeing him every day, he means. Will Sylvain, too, just go on acting like nothing happened when Dimitri is around? The thought makes Felix feel sick.
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Felix isn't back to being fully angry, but he does seem to prickle back up a little under the arm Sylvain has thrown around his shoulders. He frowns thoughtfully out across the water, squinting at nothing as if the air itself could produce answers for him.
He sighs and gestures helplessly with his free hand. "I don't know," he admits. "I'm still sort of processing everything that happened. Obviously something... snapped, in him. If everything else is going to hell in this handbasket, though, we can't afford to be turning against each other." It isn't the answer Felix wants to hear, he's sure, but he can't just put up walls and stick out porcupine quills like Felix does. The kingdom needs Dimitri, even if he's not in his right mind.
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Felix has been trying to impress upon the Professor how close an eye they should be keeping on Dimitri for moons, but they never seem to understand. Maybe now they will, but he's not going to hold his breath.
"Ugh. Forget it. Talking about him is making me sick."
This is the part where Felix would normally turn and storm off. With Sylvain's arm around him like this, though, he finds he doesn't really want to. So he stays put.
And usually, he'd never bother casting about for something to say, either. But the only thing in his mind that isn't either Dimitri or how close he and Sylvain are still standing is Remire, and the point of bringing Sylvain out here was to get him to stop wallowing about everything.
So he just stays quiet, looking out over the pond and trying not to think too hard about how warm Sylvain is in contrast to the chilly evening air.