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“Come on, Sylvain, can we go ice skating? Please, please, please?”
Felix glanced over from where he was building a snowman with Dimitri and refrained from rolling his eyes with difficulty. Father had said that if he kept doing it, his eyes might get stuck. Glenn had been doing it all the time for years, though, and his eyes hadn’t gotten stuck all funny, so Felix was starting to get the idea that Father just didn’t like it and was trying to scare him. Still, though, one could never be too careful. Just in case.
“Please, Sylvain?”
At this, Felix did let out a little sigh of annoyance. Ingrid had been begging Sylvain to take them ice skating for the better part of a quarter of an hour. It was springtime, meaning that the snow and ice had melted by now in most places in Faerghus, but winter was still reluctant to release its grip in the far northern reaches of Gautier. Ingrid was apparently determined to squeeze every bit of winter fun she could out of this trip before she had to wait however many moons for the season to come around again. Never mind the fact that they weren’t supposed to leave gardens behind the Gautier manor, where they were currently playing.
“Just this once, Sylvain, please?”
“All right, all right! Fine! We’ll go ice skating! Only for a little while! Just don’t tell anyone, okay?” Sylvain tossed his hands in the air in resignation as Ingrid gave a whoop and ran off in the direction of the shed she knew the skates were kept. “Come on, you two,” Sylvain said to the two other boys. Dimitri nodded and followed obediently - he’d go along with anything - but Felix went much more reluctantly, making his dissatisfaction known by crossing his arms and walking with a bit more force than was necessary. He knew better than to protest out loud, though. Sylvain was almost eight years old and in charge of watching the younger ones today, and what he said went. As much as Felix disliked ice skating, the threat of a scolding from Father for not minding his superiors won out, and he found himself following the rest of the group into the shed.
“Here we are,” Sylvain said as he used his height advantage to reach the upper hooks on the wall. He took down a few pairs of skates and handed them out. “These should fit you well enough. We’ll put them on once we get down there, okay?
“Okay!” Dimitri said brightly as he accepted his pair. Ingrid was already gone, headed down towards the river. Felix took the proffered skates wordlessly. He wasn’t very good at skating; standing on just those two little blades on a slippery surface was scary. Why everyone else seemed to like it so much, he didn’t think he’d ever understand.
Once all four of them had made it down to the riverbank behind the Gautier manor, Sylvain busied himself with helping the little ones put on their skates. Ingrid was getting pretty good at lacing up boots on her own, but skates were a little different, Sylvain said as he checked hers and tightened the laces appropriately. Before long, she was off, already racing across the river towards a patch of smooth ice. Dimitri was next, allowing Sylvain to fully lace up the skates instead of attempting to do it on his own first. He would never say it out loud, but Felix knew he was afraid of pulling on the laces too hard and breaking them. With a polite “Thank you, Sylvain,” Dimitri was on his feet as well, skating after Ingrid with a bit less speed and finesse, but confidently enough. That just left Felix.
“Hey, Fe,” Sylvain crouched down in front of the younger boy and picked up the skates from where they’d been tossed aside. “No pouting, now, okay? Let’s get your skates on.”
Felix hadn’t been aware that his dissatisfaction was still that evident. He wasn’t pouting, he was just… not excited about ice skating. Before he could make a retort, though, Sylvain chattered on. “I know you don’t like skating that much, but I’ve got a game for you to play! Have you ever tried skipping rocks on ice?”
Felix hadn’t. He shook his head.
“You’re gonna love it! You can skip rocks a lot further on ice than you can on water, and it makes a really cool sound too!” Sylvain said as he fitted the skates over Felix’s boots and started doing up the laces. “What do you say, do you think you can skip the rocks better than I can?”
Now he’d caught Felix’s interest. His competitive side could never resist a challenge. He spoke for the first time since they’d left the gardens: “You bet I can!” He sat up a little straighter as Sylvain finished tying off the laces.
“We’ll see about that!” Sylvain quickly put on his own skates, then reached out and offered both of his hands to Felix. Felix took them, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. “Come on, you can hold onto me.” Sylvain steered them a little further downstream from where Ingrid and Dimitri were, aiming for a bend in the river where an abundance of river rocks sat along the frozen bank. The ice was much thicker here. “Here, you go ahead and sit down.” He lowered Felix down to sit on one of the larger rocks jutting up out of the ice, then began gathering skipping stones.
Felix allowed himself to smile. Now that their fathers had deemed Sylvain old enough to babysit the younger kids, idle time while the adults were in meetings had gotten a lot more interesting. Ingrid’s older siblings were nice enough, but very strict and not much fun. They were better than Miklan, though, who was just plain mean and didn’t even want to be around “the babies” anyway. Glenn was okay, but all he ever wanted to do was train, and he already did that at home all the time. When visiting friends, it was a special occasion. Felix wanted to play with them and do things he wouldn’t normally do. Ice skating technically counted as something he wouldn’t normally do, he thought begrudgingly, but playing Sylvain’s rock skipping game sounded fun at least. Now that Felix really thought about it, Sylvain always had fun things to do. Maybe it was because he was much closer to them in age, or maybe it was because he already knew them so well and was good at coming up with activities that each of them would like. Or maybe a bit of both.
“Here we are!” Sylvain dropped a pile of stones next to Felix with a clatter. “Now we’re going to take a rock and hold it like this, see? Then you pull your arm back like this…”
It took a few tries, but soon Felix was able to get a stone to skip off the ice a couple of times before it slid to a stop along the opposite bank. He squealed and clapped his hands with glee. He’d done it!
“Great job, Felix!” Sylvain patted him on the back. “I knew you’d be good at this! Now, my record is five skips - you think you can beat that?”
Five?! Felix blinked in surprise. That was a lot!
“You might need a little more practice before you can get that far, hmm?” Sylvain said. “Why don’t you try a few on your own, and I’ll check on Ingrid and Dimitri?”
Felix’s smile grew wider. “Just you wait, by the time you get back, I’ll beat your record!”
“Better start practicing, then!” Sylvain laughed. “I’ll be back in a little bit, okay? Just call if you need me, I’ll be right up there.” He pointed to where the other two were squaring up to do a race a little ways away.
“Okay!” Felix was already reaching for another stone. This was turning out to be a fun time after all.
***
Sylvain turned away from Felix with a smile. He was glad that he’d been able to find a way to adapt the activity to Felix’s liking. Besides, skipping rocks had much of a lower physical impact than ice skating proper, which was for the best. Felix was small and got sick easily, and they’d already been outside for a while today. Best not to have him exert himself too much. Sylvain would never say that out loud, though - Felix was also very sensitive, and hated being coddled. His condition necessitated it, though, so one had to get creative to not let him catch on.
“I win!” Ingrid skidded to a stop across the makeshift finish line a few paces in front of Dimitri, rosy-cheeked and grinning. “That’s three in a row!” She caught sight of Sylvain approaching and waved to get his attention. “Sylvain, time me! I think I’m getting faster!”
“Okay! Toe on the line, both of you!” Playing with the little ones was fun. All they needed was attention from someone they looked up to and they were happy. Sylvain loved the validating feeling that gave him. “On your mark, get set… go!”
Over the course of the next half hour, Sylvain timed quite a few more races, most of which Ingrid won. Dimitri, ever pleasant and just happy to be included, was not upset by this in the slightest and congratulated Ingrid every time. He had such an easygoing personality and knew how to make everyone happy. He could use a little more - what was it that Sylvain’s father called it? Assertiveness, that was it. He could use a little more assertiveness, but Sylvain thought he’d grow into a great king someday.
As often as he could, Sylvain checked up on Felix. He was heartened to see that Felix was completely engrossed and his skill with the rock skipping was improving. When he ran out of skipping stones, he was even confident enough to get up and carefully skate across the river all by himself to gather them back up again. Felix’s ice skating ability wasn’t quite on par with the other kids’ yet, which probably contributed to his nervousness. Duke Rodrigue said that Felix was born too early, and in addition to being prone to illness, had had trouble learning to do things as quickly as other children. By the time Felix was just starting to crawl, for example, Ingrid and Dimitri were already taking their first steps. He’d also been late to talk; Sylvain remembered well the days when Felix would burst into frustrated tears more often than he would speak clear words, angry at himself that he couldn’t communicate what he needed. That was how Sylvain had learned to read Felix’s expressions and mannerisms so well. Anyway, Felix did eventually learn to do everything in his own time, and he seemed to be catching up to his peers more and more lately. That was promising.
Almost too soon, the bell in the tower of the little chapel adjacent to the Gautier manor tolled five o’clock. That was their signal to get back to the gardens before their parents’ meeting wrapped up for dinner and someone noticed the children weren’t where they were supposed to be. “All right, you two, let’s head on back,” he said to Ingrid and Dimitri. “Get over to the other bank and start taking your skates off. I’ll go collect Felix.” Luckily, Ingrid did not protest. Apparently she didn’t fancy a scolding from her parents either.
Sylvain skated back downstream to Felix’s rock skipping spot. “How’s it going, Fe? We should head back up to the gardens.”
Felix drew his arm back in perfect form and then swung forward and released. The rock skipped an impressive four times. That apparently wasn’t good enough, though, because Felix huffed a sigh of frustration. “Not yet! I’m almost there! I know I can beat your record!”
“How about you try three more times, and then we’ll head back?”
A look of fierce determination came over Felix’s face. He nodded, then carefully selected a rock from the pile. The first skipped four times yet again. The second didn’t do as well and only skipped once. On the last try, though, Sylvain looked on as the stone skipped one… two… three… four… five times. Felix’s face fell and he crossed his arms. “I was so close!” He looked close to tears.
“Hey, that’s okay!” Sylvain said quickly, doing anything he could to avoid tears. “If it meets, it beats! That’s what I always say!”
Felix looked up at him. “Really?”
“Yeah!” Not really, but Sylvain couldn’t bear to see the younger boy sad. “Great job, Fe!”
Felix gave out a squeal and jumped up, throwing his arms around Sylvain, and wow, if that didn’t make Sylvain’s heart melt. He loved how fulfilling it was to make the little kids happy.
“All right, all right, you win! Now let’s head back over and get your skates off.” Sylvain held out his hand to Felix, and was surprised when Felix didn’t take it. “I can do it by myself!” the younger boy said proudly, and began slowly but steadily to make his way over to where Ingrid was sitting on the bank unlacing her skates. The confidence boost from his perceived victory was doing wonders.
On his way to join Felix and Ingrid, Sylvain skated past Dimitri, who had found a particularly clear patch of ice and was lying down on his stomach to peer down through it. “Look, Sylvain,” He said excitedly. “There are fish down there!”
Sylvain paused to take a look. Sure enough, there were a few fish soaking up the late afternoon sunlight just below the ice, swimming against the current to stay in place. “Great find, Dimitri!” He knew he was supposed to call Dimitri “Your Highness”, but the younger boy got upset when he did that. Out of earshot of the adults, Sylvain continued to use his given name. “Maybe sometime we can try to get someone to teach us how to ice fish!”
“Really?” The prince looked up, curious.
“You bet!” Sylvain said as Dimitri looked back down at the fish, contemplative. “Now why don’t you get one last look at the fish and then head over so we can get your skates off?”
Dimitri nodded. “Okay!”
“Sounds good,” Sylvain replied. “I’m gonna go join Ingrid and Felix.” And with that, he turned and headed towards the other two.
Ingrid already had her skates off and was now attempting to help Felix with his, but Felix was having none of it. “I can do it by myself!” He huffed as he tried to push Ingrid’s hands away. Ingrid gave up and shrugged, looking up as Sylvain approached. Sylvain took a seat on Felix’s other side and started slowly unlacing his own skates, giving Felix time to complete the task. After some fumbling, the smaller boy did manage to untie the laces and pull the skates off, revealing his boots underneath. He looked very proud of himself.
By this time, all three of them had their skates off. Sylvain tied the laces of each pair of skates together and looped one pair behind Ingrid’s neck and one pair behind Felix’s, leaving the skates to dangle down their fronts so their hands would be free for the climb back up the hill. A quick glance told him that Dimitri, though, hadn’t moved from his spot on the ice. “Dimitri,” Sylvain called before turning away again to pick up his own skates and loop them around his neck, “time to go!”
Sylvain didn’t see exactly what happened in the next moment, but he heard it. A loud crack, a yelp, and a splash. Then silence. By the time Sylvain whipped his head back up, his heart nearly stopped. Where Dimitri had been, there was only a jagged hole in the ice, large enough for him to have fallen into.
Immediately, Sylvain was on his feet, dashing across the ice towards the hole. It was a bit difficult without skates, but he wasn’t about to take the time to put them back on again. Heedless of the cold water or the potential danger of cracking the ice further and falling in himself, he fell to his knees and shoved his arms through he hole all the way up to his shoulders, feeling around. Nothing. He panicked. “Ingrid!” He looked over and called towards the younger children. “Go get help, fast!” Ingrid was the best choice for this task, being faster and having much more stamina than Felix. She didn’t even hesitate to throw her skates to the ground, push herself to her feet, and start sprinting up the hill towards the manor.
This was bad. This was really, really bad. Sylvain’s mind whirled. They were on a river - of course the current would have taken Dimitri away from the hole he originally fell into. He turned to look downstream, scanning the ice but seeing no sign of the prince.
“Where is he?” Sylvain jumped at hearing Felix’s voice at his elbow, turning to glance at him. He must have run from the bank to meet him. He still had his skates looped around his neck and looked as panicked as Sylvain felt.
“I- I don’t know-” Sylvain looked back up again, looking desperately for any sign of Dimitri. “He must be downriver by now.” He started making his way in that direction, eyes peeled. Felix followed. The seconds ticked by ominously, and Sylvain knew that the longer Dimitri was in the water, the less chance for survival. This was horrible. He should’ve never given into Ingrid and taken the little kids skating. He should've known that the ice would be thinner at this time of year. Before long, he heard voices shouting from the top of the hill, coming closer. Guards, presumably; the first people Ingrid could find. At least he’d have help.
“There, there!” Felix’s little voice sounded from Sylvain’s side. He pointed down towards the riverbend where he’d been skipping rocks. “He’s there!” And before Sylvain could even blink, Felix was sprinting off in that direction as fast as his little legs and the slippery surface of the ice would allow him. What happened next, Sylvain wouldn’t have believed if he hadn't seen it firsthand.
As Felix ran, he grabbed one of the skates hanging down his front and held it up. In a movement almost too graceful for a boy of only five years old, he dropped into a slide shortly before he reached the spot where he’d presumably seen some sign of Dimitri, and then as soon as he came to a stop, brought the blade of the skate down onto the ice as hard as he could.
CRACK!
It shouldn’t have been possible, given Felix’s small stature and the thickness of the ice, but the ice broke apart and a geyser of water erupted from the spot. Felix shoved his arm that wasn’t holding the skate down through the hole he’d made. “I’ve got him, I’ve got him!” He yelled.
Shaking himself out of his daze, Sylvain ran to join him. He put his own arms through the hole and his gloved hands closed around what was unmistakably a fur pelt. He started to pull Dimitri to the surface, but was surprised once again as Felix gave a mighty yank and fell back, his momentum pulling Dimitri from the hole and out onto the ice on top of him. Sylvain was just along for the ride, and he was not expecting the amount of force behind Felix’s action. He went right along with Dimitri and ended up lying on the ice beside the two smaller boys. Quickly, he sat back up again and rolled Dimitri off of Felix.
What he found made his stomach sink right through the ground. Dimitri wasn’t moving - no sign of life. Felix looked shellshocked, and right before Sylvain’s eyes, his eyes rolled back in his head and he too went still. Sylvain was now out on the ice alone with two unconscious boys, all of them soaked through with freezing water. How had it all gone so wrong so fast?
It only took a few more seconds for the first of the guards to reach them, but it felt like a lifetime. Almost before he knew what was happening, Sylvain was picked up off the ice and clutched against a cold steel breastplate as someone carried him to shore and set him down on his feet. He could only look on as Dimitri and Felix were laid out on the snow a short ways away, his heart in his throat. After a few very tense moments of the guards administering him, Dimitri suddenly spasmed and then coughed, water flowing from his mouth. He was quickly rolled onto his side to get the rest of it out between vain attempts to pull air into his lungs. He was alive, Sylvain realized with relief. That only left Felix, who was still lying unmoving a few yards further away under the care of several more guards.
More shouting, more approaching footsteps crunching through the snow. More guards were there, along with King Lambert and Duke Rodrigue. Suddenly Sylvain was grabbed by the shoulders and spun around, and he found himself face to face with his own father.
“Sylvain!” Matthias unclasped his cape and hastily wrapped it around his son. Sylvain hadn’t realized until now how cold he was from the water. He was shivering. “Are you all right?”
Sylvain nodded, then hastily spoke up before he’d get a scolding for not addressing his superiors properly. “Yes, sir.” His voice shook.
A look of relief passed over his father’s face before it was replaced with one of anger. He grabbed Sylvain by the arm and dragged him up the hill towards the manor, away from his friends. Before he could stop himself, Sylvain let out a noise of protest. It was ignored. Soon he found himself back on level ground on the outskirts of the garden, where Ingrid was clutching at her father’s overcoat, tears streaming down her face. Various other lords and ladies hovered nearby nervously. Matthias paid them no mind and came to a stop, turning Sylvain to face him once again and holding him at arm’s length. “Young man,” he said sternly, “Would you care to explain to me how the Crown Prince managed to fall through the ice while under your supervision?” His gaze dropped from Sylvain’s face to the pair of ice skates still hanging from his neck. “What’s this, eh?” The margrave’s face grew even more enraged as he grabbed one of the skates and held it up to Sylvain’s face. “I thought I told you to stay in the garden! Explain yourself!”
Sylvain was petrified. He couldn’t speak. “Answer me!” His father gave him a little shake. Panicking, Sylvain bit down hard on his lip to keep from crying. That would only make Father angrier. He tried to think of something, anything, to say, but came up empty.
“It’s my fault, sir!” Ingrid’s voice rang out. Both Sylvain and his father turned towards her in surprise. The girl let go of her father and drew herself up, looking determined despite the tear tracks down her cheeks. “It was my idea to go skating! Sylvain didn’t want us to, but I begged and I begged! He had no choice but to give in!”
Matthias studied her, then turned back to Sylvain. “Is this true?”
Sylvain looked to Ingrid, who stared back at him resolutely. Back me up, she said wordlessly.
“Y-yes sir,” Sylvain said, voice still shaking. “It’s true.”
Matthias scoffed. “No choice, my ass,” he bit out. “Why didn’t you say no? Have you no authority over these- these infants?”
Sylvain’s breath hitched. He knew if he opened his mouth again, he’d start crying. This was all too much.
“Matthias, enough!” A new voice joined the conversation. It was Count Galatea’s. “He knows he’s done wrong, just look at him! And besides, Ingrid here can be very persuasive - I’ve no doubt that she pulled every trick in the book on him!” Ingrid hung her head in shame.
The margrave let a breath out through his nose. “Very well,” he said, turning to the count. “A word with you, if you would.” He and Ingrid’s father stepped away a few paces and began speaking in low voices.
Having finally been released - at least for now - Sylvain let out a breath. He turned to Ingrid, finding his voice again. “Why did you do that?”
Ingrid scrubbed at her face with her sleeve and looked at him very seriously. “My father doesn’t hit as hard as yours,” she said simply.
***
“Felix! Felix!” With a gasp, Felix’s eyes snapped open. He honed into the sound of the voice and focused on Glenn’s face hovering above him. Glenn was gazing down at him looking absolutely terrified, and there were tears in the corners of his eyes. “Oh, Felix! Thank the Goddess!” Glenn’s voice finally broke and he let out a sob.
Felix was very confused. He suddenly realized that didn’t know where he was. He was indoors and lying down, he was able to surmise that much, but the last thing he remembered was being out on the river, pulling Dimitri out of the ice. Something… very strange had happened. He’d felt a burning feeling all through his body and then a terrible pain jackknifing up his arm. Even now, he could still feel the aftershocks of that strange feeling thrumming through him beneath the pain. Those sensations were scary enough, but on top of it, Glenn was crying. Glenn was ten years old and the bravest person Felix knew. Nothing scared him. If Glenn was this upset, something was very, very wrong. Overwhelmed, he found himself bursting into tears of pain and fear.
“Felix, it’s okay, it’s okay-” Glenn was trying to calm him down, but it was too late for that. Felix was in full hysterics. He felt Glenn try to take him into his arms to hug him, but the movement jostled his arm and he cried out. “Are you hurt?” Glenn’s voice took on a tone of urgency as he hastily laid him back against whatever it was he was lying on. “Felix, where are you hurt?”
Words were hard right now, but Glenn sounded so scared still. “My- m-my arm-” Felix stammered out with effort between sobs.
“This one?” Glenn gently laid his hand on Felix’s left arm. “Or this one?” He touched his right. Even that small contact was excruciating. Felix yelped. “That one, okay, I’m so sorry, Felix, we’ll make it better-” Glenn was rambling now. Felix just kept on crying. He couldn’t do anything else.
“How is he?” That was Father’s voice. Felix turned his face towards the voice, seeking out any additional comfort he could find.
“He says his arm’s been hurt, Father,” Glenn said. “His right one.”
“Let me take a look,” Rodrigue said gently, taking up a position at Felix’s side. Felix gasped as the familiar feeling of healing magic washed through him. It didn’t really do anything for the pain, but it did calm him somewhat. “Saints,” his father swore under his breath. “It’s broken. We’ll need to set it.” At this, Felix began to cry harder again.
“Father, he’s in a lot of pain, we should give him something-”
“I’ll get the healer,” Rodrigue said quickly before rising back to his feet and disappearing.
“It’s gonna be okay, Felix,” Glenn said soothingly, his own tears having since stopped. That at least bode well, and though Felix was still in pain, it made him feel less frightened. “We’ll give you something to make you feel better, and get you out of those wet clothes, and warm you up…”
That sounded nice. Felix hadn’t even noticed that he was still in his wet, cold clothes. Through his tears, he looked around and finally recognized the main entryway to the Gautier manor. He must be lying on one of the benches. There was a group of people gathered around the bench on the other side of the entryway. Felix could just make out a glimpse of blonde hair through them all. Suddenly he remembered: Dimitri. He’d fallen through the ice. Was he all right?
“His Highness is going to be okay, I think,” Glenn said, following Felix’s gaze. “He’s awake, at least. Father was with him until just now.”
Still hiccupping from the aftermath of his hysterics, Felix looked back to Glenn. Glenn smiled reassuringly. “You don’t need to worry about anything right now though, Felix. You’ve been through a lot.”
At that moment, Rodrigue reappeared at Felix’s side. “Here”, he said, holding out a small vial. He snaked his other arm under Felix’s shoulders to prop him up, making soothing sounds when the movement elicited another cry of pain. “Drink this, Felix, it’ll make you feel better.”
Breath still hitching, Felix acquiesced. Whatever it was had a sickeningly sweet taste, but Father was right, almost immediately after he managed to swallow it down, the pain started to fade. Felix suddenly felt very, very sleepy. He barely registered the feeling of being picked up, cradled in Father’s arms, before he drifted off.
***
Sitting at Felix’s bedside, Rodrigue rubbed his eyes as he tried to concentrate on reading the topmost sheet of paper from the stack on his lap. None of them had been expecting their meeting on the year’s defense plans for the Sreng border to be interrupted by a frantic Gautier guard, saying that something had happened with the children down at the river. When they reached the scene of the incident, they’d found a very shaken-looking Sylvain along with both Dimitri and Felix, both unconscious but blessedly alive. It didn’t take long for the whole story to come out - the first guards on the scene had seen the latter half of it. According to them, the prince had fallen through the ice and Felix had been the one to locate where he’d drifted further downriver. As the guards approached, Felix had broken into a run, slid to exactly the right spot, smashed clean through the ice with the blade of an ice skate, and with Sylvain’s help, had pulled Dimitri from the water.
The story would have been surprising enough on its own, but what made it even stranger was what one of the guards had said. “I got a look at the ice in that spot,” she’d said, a look of amazement on her face. “It was at least three inches thick. I never would’ve believed that little boy could’ve broken through it in one hit if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes.”
It was baffling. Little Felix, pulling off a stunt like that? It didn’t seem believable. It wasn’t until Glenn had said that he’d hurt his arm and Rodrigue had found that it was broken that the pieces fell into place.
Felix had used his Crest.
It all made sense. The rush of power, the shock of the cold water, and the pain must have made him pass out. Rodrigue remembered the first time he himself had activated his Crest during a sparring match when he was around Glenn’s age. The unexpected recoil had caused him to pull several muscles in his arm and back. The first time was always the hardest and worst - after that, a Crested child would intuitively learn to channel the power of an activation more effectively. It was no wonder that the bones in Felix’s arm had snapped: he had a Major Crest as opposed to Rodrigue’s minor one, was much younger than most when his Crest had activated for the first time, and to top it all off that activation was used to smash through three inches of solid ice. It was amazing, really, given the circumstances.
Felix had always been small, sickly, sensitive. When Alcina had gone into labor six weeks too early, they had all feared the worst: that the baby would be stillborn. He wasn’t, though. Felix was born screaming at the top of his lungs, his tenacious will to fight for his life already apparent. Those first few months had had many close calls, but Felix always somehow pulled through. Alcina, though, never fully recovered from the traumatic birth and had passed before Felix’s first birthday. From then on, Rodrigue was a single parent raising two boys. He’d expected for Glenn to resent Felix because of what happened to their mother, but thankfully that hadn’t been the case at all. Glenn was absolutely besotted with Felix, doting on him and helping to nurse him through every illness and brush away every tear.
Now that he really thought about it, Rodrigue had made a bit of an oversight. He still had Felix fixed in his mind as a small, helpless toddler. Late to walk, late to talk, and needing a guiding hand through everything. Felix had matured quite a bit in recent months, though. He’d become increasingly independent and fell ill less often. It was hard to ever imagine Felix growing old and strong enough to fight and wield the family relic, but after today’s events… maybe Rodrigue needed to reexamine some things. Felix had thoroughly proven himself to be a capable servant of the Crown even at an extremely young age. He’d had the potential the whole time.
Rodrigue was startled from his reverie by Felix shifting and groaning. He appeared to be waking up, struggling to do so through the haze of the medicine he’d been given. His eyes opened, gaze glassy, as he took everything in. As he realized where he was, a little whimper left his lips and he shifted again, this time with more urgency.
Fully expecting this reaction, Rodrigue reached out to soothe his son. “There now, it’s all right, Felix, I’m here.” Felix didn’t appear to have heard him. He began to kick his little legs weakly, agitation growing. Rodrigue sighed. Ever since he was old enough to be aware of his surroundings, Felix had always reacted very poorly to being laid up in bed while sick or injured. Without exception, every time Felix would panic and cry and attempt to escape. No child liked being ill, but there was something about Felix’s reaction that just seemed… different. One of the old nursemaids, one that had minded Rodrigue himself when he was a boy, said adamantly that she was sure that Felix was experiencing genuine fear. Why, though, no one could say. All they could do was attempt to soothe him.
This time, though, still under the influence of the powerful pain medication he’d been given to help him sleep through the resetting of the bones in his arm, Felix could not be soothed. He turned away from Rodrigue’s hand and his breath picked up, coming dangerously close to hyperventilating. Rodrigue made a spur-of-the moment decision and scooped the boy up, sliding an arm under his shoulders and another under his knees and lifting him out of bed. The papers fell to the floor, forgotten. Mindful of Felix’s arm, splinted securely and tucked into a sling, he made his way to one of the armchairs by the fire, sitting and then settling his son in his lap. Curiously, Felix calmed almost immediately as soon as he was taken out of bed, breath evening out and tension leaving his body. He leaned his head against Rodrigue’s chest. “How do you feel, Felix?”
Felix made a little sound. “Tired,” he mumbled after a moment.
“Does anything hurt?”
A pause as Felix appeared to think for a moment. “No, Papa,” he said.
Rodrigue smiled fondly. Lately Felix had been very insistent on calling Rodrigue “Father” just like Glenn did. It was endearing to hear “Papa” again. “Very good,” he said softly to his son. “The Gautier healer did an excellent job, then. You’ll need to be careful of your arm for the next week or so, all right?”
“Okay, Papa.” Felix yawned.
“Still sleepy, yes?”
“No bed,” Felix said quickly. Drat. It was as if he’d read Rodrigue’s mind. Still too aware to tuck back in, then - maybe if Rodrigue distracted him, he’d eventually drift back off again. “Felix, do you remember how you hurt your arm?”
Felix snuggled closer, making himself more comfortable. “Yes.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
It took a bit for Felix to gather the words, but he eventually was able to give a short but accurate recount. “Dima fell through the ice.” Rodrigue smiled again at the emergence of the pet name. “I took an ice skate and smashed the ice and got him out.”
“That’s right,” Rodrigue said. “Did it feel… strange when you did that?”
“Uh huh.” Rodrigue couldn’t see Felix’s face, but he could tell from the tone of his voice that he was frowning. “Scary.”
“I know, it is scary, isn’t it?” He felt Felix nod against his chest. “Everything’s alright though, Felix. I know it felt very odd, but that’s how it’s meant to feel. That was your Crest activating.”
Felix shifted again, squirming into a position where he could look up into his father’s face. “My Crest?”
“Yes, that’s right. Do you remember me telling you about Crests?”
Felix nodded. “I have a Crest, and Glenn doesn’t. So I’ll use your shield someday because only people with Crests can use it.”
“Yes, someday you’ll have Aegis,” Rodrigue said. “And you’ll use your Crest more too. It makes you stronger when it activates.”
A frown. “I don’t like it,” Felix said. “I don’t wanna do it again.”
“It’s much easier once you get the hang of it. It’s scary now, but it’ll become second nature for you as you grow.” Felix did not look convinced. “Most importantly,” Rodrigue went on, “It’ll allow you to help others.” He gave his son a little squeeze, mindful of his arm. “You saved His Highness’s life today, you know. I’m very proud of you.”
For the first time during this whole ordeal, Felix gave a tiny little smile. “Really?”
“Of course I am, I’m very proud. The duty of House Fraldarius is to be the Shield of Faerghus. To protect its King and its people.” Rodrigue rubbed his hand up and down Felix’s back. “You did a very important and noble thing today, Felix.”
Felix’s smile grew a bit larger as he basked in his father’s praise. The smile was soon split, though, by another yawn. He tucked his head back down against Rodrigue’s chest. Rodrigue let some time pass, then gingerly made his way to his feet, intending to put Felix back to bed, but Felix let out a little noise of distress as he sensed the movement. “No bed, no bed,” he mumbled thickly yet again.
Rodrigue sighed. Well, maybe a walk would put Felix to sleep. That had always done the trick when he was a baby. “Okay, no bed,” Rodrigue reassured him. “Let’s go for a walk, yes?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Carefully making his way out into the corridor, Rodrigue began to meander aimlessly, no real destination in mind. Soon, though, he found himself outside the royal apartments. Felix was breathing evenly now, hopefully asleep, but while they were here… Rodrigue decided to check in on Lambert and make sure the little prince was still doing all right. The guards let him in without a word. Attendants were posted up in the receiving room, but they didn’t give Rodrigue any trouble either, a few of them simply nodding in his direction. Instead of making his way towards the king’s bedchamber directly across the room, he turned and made for the smaller one off to the side where he knew Dimitri slept. The door was open part way, and a couple of figures could be seen inside. One of the figures, of course, turned out to be Lambert, who rose to greet him. “Rodrigue!” He said softly, “It is good to see you. Please, come in.”
Rodrigue did, shifting Felix in his arms. “How is His Highness?”
“As well as can be expected,” Lambert replied, looking towards the bed where the prince lay. A healer sat at his bedside, watching attentively. “He’s a bit feverish, but the healers say they’ve gotten all the water out of him. They’re expecting him to make a full recovery.”
“A relief, to be sure.”
“Yes, I am infinitely grateful.” Lambert turned his gaze to the sleepy little burden in Rodrigue’s arms. “And I see you’ve brought our little hero? I wish to give him my thanks.”
Felix squeaked and buried his face into Rodrigue’s chest. It would seem that he still wasn’t asleep after all. “Felix,” Rodrigue said softly. “His Majesty is speaking to you. Can you look at him, please?” Felix turned infinitesimally, enough to look at Lambert out of the corner of his eye.
Apparently Lambert decided that that was good enough, because he smiled fondly and reached out to put a hand on Felix’s shoulder. “Felix,” he said very seriously, “You have my utmost gratitude for saving the life of my son. He is very lucky to have you as a friend.”
Embarrassed at the attention, Felix buried his face again. Rodrigue was about to chide him gently for forgetting his manners, but Lambert just chuckled. “Forgive him,” Rodrigue said instead with a matching smile. “He’s been given some medicine and isn’t quite himself.”
“Oh, I’d forgotten - how is his arm?”
“Healing very well. It was a clean break, and the healer was very thorough. She says he should be able to use it again in about a week.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Lambert gave a wry smile. “I must say, he made much less fuss than you did the first time you used your Crest.”
Rodrigue made a rather undignified squawking sound at the unexpected jibe. “What- I- I did not make a fuss!”
“Really? I seem to remember you screaming that you were dying. Half the castle came running.”
“Oh, give it a rest!”
Lambert just laughed some more. “Come, why don’t you join me for some tea?” He gestured towards the pair of armchairs by the fire, where a tea set was sitting on a small table between them. “I’ve just had some brought in.”
“Of course.” Rodrigue followed. The route to the armchairs took him past the bed, and apparently Felix had decided to stop hiding, because he suddenly reached out in the direction of the sleeping prince. “Dima,” he said insistently, leaning away from Rodrigue dangerously.
“Leave him be, Felix,” Rodrigue said, hastily adjusting his grip to accommodate the shift in weight. “He needs his rest-”
Felix let out a whine of distress and redoubled his efforts, reaching out yet again. “Dima, Dima!” He sounded close to tears.
“The two of them sure are close, aren’t they?” Lambert was looking on fondly. “Why don’t you let Felix lie down with him? It’ll give us a better opportunity to talk.”
“Are you sure?”
Felix began to cry softly, still reaching out towards Dimitri desperately with his good arm. “Quite sure,” Lambert said with a smile. “He’s very insistent, after all.”
Before Felix could get even more worked up, Rodrigue acquiesced and lowered him onto the bed. Felix immediately stopped crying and shuffled over to Dimitri on his knees, then curled up next to him and fisted his little hand in Dimitri's shirt. Dimitri shifted sleepily, sensing Felix's presence but not quite waking up all the way, and took his hand away from his own face; he’d clearly fallen asleep with his thumb in his mouth, a habit that Lambert was supposedly trying to break but obviously not having much luck. If you asked Rodrigue, his heart wasn’t really in it - he doted on his son. Maybe he’d allowed the little prince whatever comfort he needed after such a traumatic event. Anyhow, apparently Dimitri found having Felix nearby to be more of a comfort than sucking his thumb, because he reached across his body and clutched at the other boy clumsily. Both quickly settled down, clearly asleep. Smiling endearingly and now relieved of his burden, Rodrigue followed Lambert to the hearth and took a seat. “They’re lucky to have each other, indeed.” Lambert nodded in agreement and began to serve the tea.
***
It was late, and despite his exhaustion, Sylvain couldn’t sleep.
The rest of the day after the near drowning incident had passed in a blur. After speaking to Count Galatea, Father had determined that Sylvain still needed to be punished for allowing the younger children to leave the garden… just not as much as he would have been had Ingrid not taken the majority of the blame. He’d received ten lashes as opposed to the originally proposed twenty. And by the way Ingrid had been sitting at dinner, she had been switched as well. The fact that she was still able to sit at all despite undoubtedly receiving more lashes than Sylvain, though, did indeed prove her point that her father did not hit as hard as Margrave Gautier. Sylvain was grateful to her, but he still felt bad. Finally alone after dinner, he’d locked himself in his room, thrown himself on his bed, and broken down sobbing. He felt guilty at first for doing it, because Father said that boys did not cry, but then again Mother always said that a good cry could make you feel better. He was conflicted, but once he was done, he did admit to himself that he did feel somewhat better. Above all, though, he was tired. But he just couldn’t sleep, not without knowing how Dimitri and Felix were. Father had said that they were alive, and that was all he needed to know. But Sylvain still worried. He tossed and turned in bed - sticking to his stomach and sides, of course, on account of his sore bottom - and just couldn’t stop his racing mind.
Finally, when it must have been past midnight, Sylvain couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know how his friends were faring. Making up his mind, he tossed back the covers and crossed to the window. He honestly wasn’t sure which guest rooms had been given to House Fraldarius on this particular visit, however the royal apartments were always the same. The guards would never let him in through the main door, but he knew the room Dimitri was sleeping in, and from his many hasty late-night escapes from Miklan, Sylvain knew he could easily climb from his window to that one. Grabbing the sheathed dagger he kept in the drawer in his bedside table, he placed it between his teeth. He then opened the window, paying no mind to the cutting night air. It was springtime, and this breeze, while still freezing, was nowhere near as cold as it had been mere weeks ago. Confidently, Sylvain hefted himself up and climbed out.
In no time, he found himself outside Dimitri’s room. He held onto the rough stonework with one hand as he unsheathed the dagger in his mouth with the other and jammed it between the two panes just below the latch, managing to flip said latch and pry open the window just as his fingers were starting to ache. Sylvain was a pro, having done this with nearly every window in the manor at some point or another. With Miklan, it was best to be unpredictable.
But just as he was about to climb through, the curtains were yanked back, revealing Sabine, one of House Gautier’s healers. Both parties were equally startled, Sylvain freezing in place and Sabine giving a small yelp. “You gave me a fright, young man!” She said, putting her hand to her chest. Evidently she knew better than to leave her employer’s heir outside on a second-story window sill, however, and quickly pulled Sylvain inside. She shut and latched the window behind him, then drew the curtains. “Now,” she said, taking Sylvain by the chin and turning him to look her in the face, “would you care to explain why you’re climbing through the prince’s window at one o’clock in the morning?”
Sylvain meant to give a reasonable argument, he really did. But as soon as he opened his mouth, he burst into tears. Apparently he hadn’t gotten them all out earlier. “I- I-” he stammered between cries, “I had to know if- if His Highness was okay-” He hiccupped pitifully, mentally kicking himself. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all!
Apparently Sabine was moved by his emotional display, however, and her face softened. “Oh, you poor thing,” she tutted. “You must have been worried sick. He’ll be just fine, and young master Fraldarius will be as well.” Sabine put an arm around his shoulders and steered him towards the bed, where Sylvain surprisingly found Felix as well as Dimitri. They were curled around each other, sleeping peacefully, illuminated by the light of the fire roaring in the fireplace. Sylvain finally felt himself relax. They really were okay. “See?” Sabine said reassuringly. Sylvain nodded. Now that he knew his friends were all right, his exhaustion crashed down on him. He yawned. “Let’s get you back to your bed now, yes? Everyone else is asleep at this hour,” Sabine said. Sylvain just nodded again and allowed himself to be turned away from the bed, when suddenly a little voice reached both of their ears. “Syl?”
Both Sabine and Sylvain turned back towards the bed to see Felix sitting up, rubbing at his eyes with one hand while the other lay bandaged against his chest in a sling. He blinked sleepily. “Where’re you going?”
Sabine spoke up. “I’m taking him back to bed, little one, no need to fret-”
“No!” Felix’s face crumpled. “Don’t go!” He reached out towards Sylvain pleadingly.
Sylvain couldn’t bear to see Felix upset. He tore himself from Sabine’s grip and scampered up onto the bed next to Felix, who gave a little hum of satisfaction and leaned into him. Sylvain didn’t realize until it was too late that Felix had pulled him to lie down with him, snuggling under the warm covers. Sabine gave a little sigh, but she had a smile on her face. “Well, I suppose that settles that,” she said softly, tucking the boys in before returning to the chair she’d been sitting in and taking up her knitting needles.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Sylvain scooted closer until all three of them were scrunched together. His father wouldn’t be happy with him in the morning, Sylvain was sure, but this was worth it. He held the younger boys close. He’d made a very stupid mistake today, and he’d never do so again. The little kids were his responsibility. His last thought before he drifted off to sleep to the sound of knitting needles clacking was that from now on, he’d do better.