Don't bother me.

"could I have saved him?" [felix hugo fraldarius. associated with FERP.]

[inkymint]

"Could I have saved him? Could I have stopped him?"

[boarshield-blog]

crest-of-cichol‌:

Raising a hand to his chin, Seteth stroked his beard thoughtfully as he pondered the Kingdom’s situation. Outside the usual subsidies the church provided to Faerghus as a result of a long-standing agreement, the church was providing little support to the Kingdom despite the Tragedy of Duscur, which had placed great hardship on the royal family. The church’s minimal support was not due to ignorance, as the governance was well aware of the situation, but instead a result of a lack of resources. With the unrest detected towards the Church of Seiros, they simply could not afford to send away too many of their knights or scholars.

“I know little of the situation in Faerghus,” Seteth admitted, “but if I had to guess, I would say it’s likely the Kingdom is operating under the guise of normalcy to protect itself and its people. A nation in disarray is a vulnerable one. A most effective defense to prevent others from making the Kingdom a target is to conceal any weaknesses that invaders could utilize to their advantage. That is at least, what I would do, if I were in such a situation. I can understand your discomfort. However, it is likely the current leadership is attempting to bide time for Prince Dimitri’s eventual ascension.” He suggested, finally allowing his hand to fall from his chin.

He watched as the students began to return towards the pews, where choir practice would continue. Seeing as their break was over, he decided to wrap up the conversation quickly, but in a manner that would not make Felix’s concerns seem marginalized.

“It is good that you are concerned. The best preparation for misfortune is recognizing that it is a possibility,” He stated, placing a hand on Felix’s shoulder, “I cannot claim to know what will come, but should the integrity of the Kingdom collapse, it is likely that the Church of Seiros would provide aid. Faerghus has maintained a positive relationship with the Church and it is beneficial for the Church to maintain that relationship.” He ushered Felix to follow him, returning towards the main choir.

“I am aware that is likely not what you wished to hear…but I feel it is prudent to give a practical answer.”

If even Seteth can pick apart the situation without any specifics, then the state of the Kingdom is even more dire than he had imagined, Felix thinks dourly. But -- ah, that’s not quite fair either. Seteth can be surprisingly insightful in a way that extended beyond simply being clergy. Felix has no idea how old the man is and doesn’t care enough to guess, but his words carry the weight of experiences Felix can’t even begin to imagine.

“Whatever that reality may be, that is always what I wish to hear,” Felix says with a slight huff. “Even if that reality is unpleasant. Sugarcoating the truth is just distasteful.” Obviously Seteth can’t provide any immediate solutions to a problem outside of his control, but hearing the tense situation detailed so frankly is oddly more of a comfort than any actual attempt at comfort would have been. “But you’re right, of course. Things should stabilize with -- with him on the throne.” Whoever Dimitri is now hardly matters. All that’s important is that he pulls himself together enough to help Faerghus when the time comes.

“I’m done talking about this,” Felix says, embarrassed with himself for finding solace in Seteth’s words at all. “The break is almost over, anyway. Time to make a fool of myself again.”

[restoration-prince]

Silent Hours >Felix

[boarshield-blog]

benevolent-angel‌:

Mercedes fanned the potatoes and got them to calm down, the water never boiling over as she let out a sigh of relief. How haven’t I burnt down anything yet. She pondered to herself. She shook her head and turned back around to Felix.

“It’s not a waste, at least, I don’t think it is. Sometimes if you hear someone else’s opinion on a matter, it can change your views. Or at least give you insight to how that person feels. I know you’re pretty headstrong on how you feel though. That’s why I like to hear what you think.” She turned back around and pulled one of the washed carrots out from the nearby basket.

She set it on the cutting board and slowly peeled it. She was decent at prep, but when it came to actually cooking that was the struggle. She hummed softly as she continued peeling. Perhaps the tune was something Annette made up when cooking that had worn off on her.

“Tell me Felix, tell me what you think of the Church. I wish to hear your opinions on that.”

She sounds a bit like Seteth, Felix thinks sourly. What is it about him that draws preachy people towards him? Still, like with Seteth, he can’t bring himself to be truly upset with her. Mercedes’s words are wise, admirable even, but -- Felix doesn’t think that way and never will. If he allowed the opinions of others to change his own, it would soften his own convictions.

Oh... she’s humming. Rather than find it annoying, Felix finds himself relaxing slightly. There’s something about a good melody that relieves tension, but to admit that would also be admitting that he, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, enjoys merriment. That’s absolutely out of the question.

“The Church?”

Felix pauses what he’s doing to raise an eyebrow at her. Does he seem like someone who cares about religion and piety? Mercedes is so earnest in asking, though, and Felix knows it’s something she deeply cares about. The least he can do is humor the question even if she doesn’t like the answer.

“Well, it’s a part of our lives in the Kingdom whether we want it to be or not,” Felix says. “But I’ve never understood the impulse to ask the Goddess for help with problems that should be solved on our own. The Goddess never stepped in before to stop human suffering senseless slaughter, so why should that be any different now?” He looks away from Mercedes, not wanting to maintain eye contact. “I suppose you must consider me a faithless heretic, then.” 

[restoration-prince]

Silent Hours >Felix

[boarshield-blog]

benevolent-angel‌:

Mercedes cocked her head and chuckled then. “I promise to not burn my sleeves off.” She scooped the potatoes up and slowly plopped them into the pot. Watching the water slowly boil around them she turned back to Felix. 

“I understand I’m best with magic and I will not deny that, I went to the school of Sorcery for that reason alone. I’ve learned how to ride a horse for more mobility. Yet…” Swords were something her brother began teaching her but, in the same moment where they were learning. They were separated.

Mercedes always wanted to talk about Emile to Felix, but, Felix already had issues with brothers. She didn’t want to open that old wound of his. Mercedes will just simply put it behind her and smile sweetly at Felix.

“Oh? A makeover sounds wonderful for you. Some highlighter and contouring would do wonders for your face.” Of course she was joking, she wouldn’t dare try to even paint Felix’s face, let alone have him near her brushes. He’d probably try and break them.

““I’m just joking, I just like being around you as a friend. You’re different than others, and it’s nice to hear your point of views on thin-.. Oh the potatoes!” She turned around to fan off the boiling water some and reduce the heat slowly.

“I’m much better at baking I promise!”

Well, at least she’s trying, Felix thinks with a sigh. Mercedes always goes out of her way to lend an ear to others, yet she’s completely scatterbrained when it comes to her own needs. How had she managed to survive this long without accidentally injuring herself or setting her room on fire? No wonder she and Annette are such good friends.

“Hmph. You’re joking,” Felix growls, and he doesn’t like it. He’s never been one for jokes, but at least she’s not cracking terrible puns like Alois, and laughing at them idiotically like Dimitri, so he’ll give her a pass for now. “Give Sylvain a makeover instead. I’m sure he has plenty of girls’ makeup leftover from his escapades you could use.” It’s mean, but -- Sylvain deserves it. Probably.

She likes being around him as a friend, huh? Now that sounds like a joke. Felix is self-aware enough to at least know that he’s universally not considered a very friendly person. But she doesn’t seem to be lying. Maybe she’s just a masochist. Or -- even worse -- sees something in him despite his clearly disinterested attitude.

“Well, I can’t bake. I hate sweets.” That’s his way of saying we’re skilled in different things, but that’s fine. Hopefully she hears the subtext so he doesn’t have to clarify. “Whatever. It’ll be edible.”

Still, Felix can’t quite let go of what she said. “Don’t people usually prefer speaking to those who have the same opinions, not different ones?” he asks sourly. “What’s the point in talking to people who will never understand your way of thinking? It’s a waste of time.”

[meru90]

🗡️

[boarshield-blog]

@the-savior-king from here:

“Ah, Felix!” Dimitri’s attention was drawn away from his training. He was right. Despite it being early in the morning, the young prince’s technique was… well, it wasn’t his best.

“I am sorry that my form is bothering you. I must admit that I’m finding it a bit hard to concentrate this morning.”

No, it’s not your form that’s bothering me. It’s you.

“I can only imagine what you’re thinking about,” Felix says with a bark of humorless laughter. “But it’s only natural an animal wouldn’t be able to control himself. Perhaps I am the one who should leave before you go into a frenzy and maul me with those tusks of yours, wild boar.”

[boarshield-blog]

crest-of-cichol‌:

It was all too often that Seteth was perceived by others as apathetic, cold to the troubles of others that did not directly involve himself or the church. In truth, the man was instead simply stoic, carrying concerns for many buried beneath his cool exterior. Hearing Felix speak of his troubled relationship with his father, admitting the consequences of his own involvement, as well as his father’s motivations, was enough for Seteth to know that the student had thought long and hard over the situation. Felix did not spurn his father merely due to a deep-rooted, immature grudge against him. His resentment towards him, while seeded in a singular event, possessed various branches that contributed to his overall animosity. His father’s ideals, his favoritism towards the prince, the loss of his brother…surely they all were contributing factors.

“It is admirable that your father took on the responsibility of looking after the prince after the Tragedy of Duscur shook Faerghus. I am certain that Prince Dimitri required much guidance and direction after enduring such great pain at a young age,” He replied, acknowledging the good of Rodrigue’s actions, “however…I disagree with his treatment of you.” Seteth rose a hand as he spoke, his words gentle and voice low. He shifted, crossing his arms. Briefly, he closed his eyes, reflecting on the role of a father. A father, no matter the circumstances, should always place his children as their highest priority. He did not agree with the fact that Rodrigue had placed Dimitri’s well-being over that of his own child. He thought back to the time Rodrigue had visited the monastery, immediately searching for Dimitri rather than his own blood. His favoritism, at least, that is what Seteth suspected it to be, was obvious.

“A father’s primary responsibility should be to his own family. It troubles me that he has not sought reconciliation with you, when it clearly vexes you so,” He shook his head, allowing his arms to fall to his sides, “perhaps it is not in my right to speak of family…every one is distinct. But…do allow me to give you advice, from an old man to a young one.”

“You are your own person. Your path will diverge from your father’s chosen path. You may wander along, following in your father’s footsteps for quite some time. But eventually, there will be a deviation. And when you take that turn, it will be of great impact.”

It’s strange. Normally, Felix would snap at the man without a second thought. Stop butting in where you don’t belong, he’d hiss, or something along those lines, and then storm away and bail entirely. But he hesitates, the words trapped in his throat. No one had ever really acknowledged Rodrigue’s “treatment” -- or lack thereof -- of Felix before. Most people see Felix’s emotions as his typical snarky overreactions, and chide him for his immaturity.

“I --” Felix tries, then falls silent again. The image of his father surfaces again in his mind, this time shielding him instead of Dimitri; a Rodrigue that had reassured him after the massacre, after they’d lost Glenn. A Rodrigue that had said, Glenn’s death was senseless, and I won’t lose you, too.

A Rodrigue that didn’t exist and never had.

Stop antagonizing His Highness. That was what the real Rodrigue had said, the one who had shooed Felix away after Dimitri’s family had been wrenched from him, shoving their own losses under the rug. He needs time to recover. You’re not helping this situation.

Yeah, and what about the time I need?

Felix’s face twists into a grimace as he realizes his own conflict must have been present on his face clear as day, as Seteth watched him mulling over his words. “An old man?” Felix finally manages with a scoff. How old could Seteth really be if he was Flayn’s older brother? “But all right, wizened one. I’m listening.” A cough. “Somewhat. I guess.”

He sighs. “Dimitri has to get on the throne, at my expense or not. I’m not going to argue with that. And after that... I don’t know.” The thought of becoming that animal’s mindless shield like his father is unpleasant, but he can’t picture himself happy defecting from the Kingdom entirely, either. No matter what path he takes, he’ll have to sacrifice some of his principles. “In truth, I’m worried. It’s as though even the smallest problem will send everything into collapse, and everyone is going about their lives like there’s nothing wrong.” Felix’s scowl softens into something more worried than angry. “It’s really not your business, but at least you’re listening. ...Not that it’ll do any good when everything goes to shit, though.”

[noblestandard-deactivated202001]

@boarshield | continued from here

In truth, he barely knew anything of Felix aside from hearing from others that he was powerful and dedicated to his training. That had sparked curiosity in him before, but it hadn't been enough for him to consider dueling him sooner.

"I have heard that you a quite skilled, and that you have sparred against Edelgard." There it was, his true reason for challenging him so suddenly. On top of others noting his strength, Edelgard had personally mentioned besting him before, which of course meant that he would have to now as well to prove his superiority over his rival.

"I am quite excited to fight you. What is your weapon of choice? I can use just about anything."

[boarshield-blog]

“Yes, I did.” Felix narrows his eyes. He hadn’t come out on top when clashing swords with Edelgard -- surely Ferdinand knows that. Is he mocking Felix for his loss? And yet -- he seems too cheerful, as though he means no malice, which can only mean one thing: Ferdinand is one of those overly benevolent, chivalry-worshiping knight types of people without a cynical bone in his body.

Those kinds of people are exhausting.

“I prefer swords,” Felix says, folding his arms across his chest and facing Ferdinand without budging. “Though now that I’ve heard your reasoning, I wonder: why should I even bother accepting your challenge? If you want to fight Edelgard, fight Edelgard. I’m nobody’s stand-in.”

[restoration-prince]

Silent Hours >Felix

[boarshield-blog]

benevolent-angel‌:

Mercedes let out a little sigh and nods, “Yeah, I had a feeling if I did face you in the training grounds though, there would be more damage than what I’ve done to myself today.” She wiggled her finger some, showing that the damage wasn’t too bad to her finger now that she’s healed it.

“Not saying that you would hurt me on purpose, I’m just not meant to hold a sword. A bow I can do, but, swords are a bit tricky for me. Besides, you know that I’m better with magic anyways,” She looked at the potatoes and reached down into the cupboards to pull out a big pot and started to fill it with water.

She watched the water fill the pot and then set it aside. She started to rub her arms then, was she always this weak in the upper body department. To the point where she couldn’t carry something heavy?

“Felix, I’m sorry for being such a burden on you today, you’ve truly helped me and I really do appreciate it. Maybe we can do this more often? It seems like you wouldn’t want me wielding any knives.” She gave a small giggle and started the fire for the boiling of the potatoes. 

She wanted to keep Felix around, she liked his company even if he was cold to anyone and everyone around him. It somehow made her want to be closer to him.

At least she’s acknowledging his superior skill, Felix thinks sourly. It’s true that Mercedes tends to be unfocused with weapons, and Felix doesn’t have time to waste on people who need to be taught the basics. He doesn’t have the patience to tutor -- isn’t that their professor’s job, anyway? -- and he’d much rather use his precious time with people who will put up a fight. Besides, if Mercedes hurts herself while they spar, the only one to blame will be him, since he wouldn’t have been looking out for her carefully enough.

“You should stick to your strengths,” Felix says. “You’re more useful that way.” As harsh as it seems, he doesn’t actually mean it rudely. In an army, it’s important to have individuals assigned to tasks they can handle, or the unity of the group will fall apart. “I’ve trained in most weapons since I could hold them. If you feel more comfortable with a bow, I wouldn’t be opposed to accompanying you to the shooting range at some point.”

 With his hands he scoops up the potatoes he’s chopped neatly and sets them on a dish next to the cutting board. “Get those cooking. And try not to set your sleeves on fire.” Being on kitchen duty is a bit of a drag. He doesn’t hate cooking, but he also doesn’t love it; the only part he enjoys is hunting, and, well -- he can’t really go out in the wild and shoot down potatoes, now can he?

“More often?” he echoes, lips curling into a frown. Mercedes is always coddling him, going out of her way to make sure he’s pacified. But that’s only because she thinks of him as her younger sibling, isn’t it? “Why do you want that, exactly? There are plenty of other people you could spend your time with.” Felix rinses off the knife before taking an onion and beginning to slice it. “Don’t tell me you’re going to try to give me a makeover. I heard what you tried to do to Ingrid. If you think you can pull that one on me, you’ve got another thing coming.”

The thought of her wanting to spend time with him simply to deepen their friendship... doesn’t even cross his mind.

[restoration-prince]

Silent Hours >Felix

[boarshield-blog]

benevolent-angel‌:

Mercedes let out a little giggle at hearing that she wasn’t completely useless. Perhaps he was meaning Dimitri that would break the knife as well, he was the one who could break and snap sewing needles.

“Felix, I do truly appreciate you being here, but it is not your fault for my recklessness. Say you didn’t show up, I would have dinner very late at this point. I shouldn’t rely on you to show up and be my saving grace.” Mercedes took a small sigh and kept cleaning the potatoes. 

“But, I do like that you did show up, your knife skills are amazing. They’re very similar to how you wield your sword.” She gave a small smile to him and then went back to cleaning the potatoes. Humming softly she was done with the task at hand.

“Maybe you could teach me your tricks to cutting potatoes?” She slowly leaned in, not to close to touch, but slightly in his space.

“I didn’t say it was my fault,” Felix grumbles, annoyed that she’d seen through him and the words he had refused to say. Why is everyone so keen on portraying him as an overbearing worrier constantly fretting over his classmates? (Okay, he is that way, but that’s not the point. And he doesn’t want that to be his public image -- that’s embarrassing.)

But you were relying on me showing up, and -- Felix sighs. That’s the problem with Mercedes; she always insists on seeing the best in everyone even when they haven’t done anything to warrant it. If she had acknowledged his mistake and even berated him, he would have understood. But he’s not sure how to deal with this extreme forgiveness. 

Subconsciously he relaxes somewhat when Mercedes brings up his sword skills. Being praised for something he actually cares about it satisfying, though that’s also on the list of things he wouldn’t actively admit. “You grow up with a sword in your hand from the moment you’re big enough to hold one, and you learn to  control a blade,” Felix says as he continues to chop. Unless you’re Dimitri who apparently never grows out of being a human disaster. The two had grown up gushing over weapons together, but Felix wouldn’t even trust him to hold one these days.

“Tricks?” Felix echoes with a frown. Her enthusiasm reminds him of Flayn, who had similarly gushed about his abilities in the kitchen. “You don’t need to be a swordmaster to cut vegetables. You just need to pay proper attention so you don’t lop your own fingers off.” He narrows his eyes. “I don’t have any desire to give lessons here. If you want to practice holding swords, face me in the training grounds. Not the kitchen.”

[meltingchoco]

please… handle with caution he will stab if you’re too nice

[boarshield-blog]

crest-of-cichol‌:

Seteth had long become accustomed to being described by less than savory terms. Even before his days at the monastery, others often observed him to be stern, pragmatic, and at worst, even cold-hearted. Though he never allowed the opinions of others to wound him or hinder his mood, he had long accepted that many would not refer to him with a more positive perspective, let alone affectionate terms. Therefore, upon hearing Felix describe him as lenient, Seteth’s eyes widened in confusion, his lips forming into a small frown. Never in his life had he ever been described in such a way, and for a moment, he was stunned into silence. With clear bewilderment written over his expression, he shook his head.

“Clement…is hardly the word I would use to describe myself, Felix. Point in fact, I do not believe I’ve ever been described as such,” Seteth replied once he recovered from his initial surprise, “while it is true that in my duties to the Archbishop I am responsible for investigating enemies of the church, that does not mean I strictly consider non-believers to be a threat. Merely choosing not to worship at the Church of Seiros is not enough reason to be pronounced excommunicate. It is your life to live, and you may choose your faith as you see fit. So as long as you are content, I have no objections to what you choose to believe.” He extended his hand out as he spoke, hoping to offer a comforting emphasis to the student. There was little he could provide the students and many would face a difficult life ahead. However, if he could offer them even the smallest bit of advice, he would do what he was able.

It was then that Felix transitioned the conversation to that of his father, and Seteth’s expression deepened with concern. Felix turned away from him, unable to meet his gaze as he spoke of his family. It was clear through his words alone that the relationship with his parent was extremely strained, perhaps even frayed, and that was detrimental to his happiness. Felix was attempting to pretend that it did not bother him, that he did not seek a closer relationship to his father, but Seteth knew better. The student’s body had become so tense, his words so carefully selected and dripping with resentment. Hurt was lurking just beneath the surface, a hurt that Felix was attempting to mask with hatred and detachment. 

Seteth couldn’t claim to understand the intentions and thoughts of Felix’s father. However, based on the facts he knew, he felt as though his father had given up on reconciliation with his son, or didn’t care enough to do so. That was unforgivable, and deeply detrimental to a child.

“Felix…I have my doubts that your father would wish for your death,” He stated, shaking his head, “but that is not to say I am defending his behavior. If you truly feel this way towards him, then it is clear that he has wronged you in some form, and has failed to properly reconcile with you. That is most unfortunate.” He paused, taking a step forward, but ensuring that Felix still had the space he clearly desired.

If Seteth had been shocked to hear Felix call him lenient, then Felix himself is equally as surprised to hear Seteth validating his side of things. In Faerghus his father is respected, and next to him Felix’s own opinions will always seem like those of an immature and petulant child. Everyone seemed to think he was too young to understand the weight of what had happened during the Tragedy of Duscur and was lashing out due to grief from losing Glenn. But it was more than that -- it was a general frustration at the culture of chivalry and shallow heroism his father continued to buy into even after everything, his inability to accept that the principles he held so dear were useless if the people he cared about wound up dead anyway.

He wouldn’t have an heir without me, no, Felix thinks but doesn’t say. Sure, Rodrigue does care about him on some level, but not in the sense of truly valuing his opinions. His father cares about him by praying that Felix will change his mind and come around to see things his way instead, that he’ll lose the chip on his shoulder. Felix, however, doesn’t see that happening any time soon. He’s been digging his heels in for years now, to the point where it has become second nature.

“The Kingdom has barely been holding it together over these past years,” Felix admits. “In that sense, I suppose I can admit my father did the noble and selfless thing, overseeing the prince in King Lambert’s stead. But any respect I had for him is gone.” If he’s being honest with himself, reconciling with his father isn’t even his top priority; Felix isn’t even sure that’s possible at this point. His present concerns are much more focused on the group of self-destructive people currently surrounding him. (He might even be one of them.)

“I’m sure I didn’t make it particularly easy for him either,” Felix adds with a shrug. “Right now it’s of little consequence. He’s not here.” Somehow Seteth manages to be attentive without condescension, and Felix finds his words less biting around him, if only a little. “Still, he did attend school here, so in a sense I suppose I’m doomed to repeat the same motions. But I don’t want to end up a fool like him.”

There are in fact people Felix would wish to protect at his own detriment, though he’d never admit it to himself. No matter how hard he tries to resist it, he can’t help but wonder if he’s destined to wind up the same kind of fool after all.

[restoration-prince]

Silent Hours >Felix

[boarshield-blog]

benevolent-angel‌:

Mercedes frowns at the words that Felix, had she truly disappointed him? She kept quiet to herself and finished her healing magic. Her finger had a small scar along it, but it wasn’t anything as bad as what Felix probably had endured.

She grabbed the cutting board that had the sliced carrots on it and placed them on the other side of the counter. “We…Can at least use them for fertilizers for the garden. We shouldn’t completely pitch them, that’s a true waste then.”

She grabbed the potato bag from the corner of the kitchen and grabbed a handful of potatoes out and placed them in the sink and started to wash those ones. Letting the dirt wash off of them, she then made a small pile of cleaned potatoes near Felix.

“You’re disappointed in me aren’t you? I can’t even wield a knife without cutting myself. Maybe I do need you around more than I thought.” The thought of keeping Felix near her was nice but she knew that he wouldn’t stay long just due to his nature.

She did acknowledge his apology but didn’t mention anything about it. 

“Mm,” Felix agrees with a noncommittal grunt, taking one potato from the pile and beginning to chop with concentration. He doesn’t know why the thought of Mercedes clumsily cutting herself with a knife is so frustrating, but it’s the same undefinable frustration he experiences when seeing her on the battlefield, someone so gentle with her head in the clouds, cutting down enemies. It wasn’t right. She doesn’t belong there.

He pauses for a moment to look at her directly and scoff. Need him around? For what? To confiscate the kitchen tools like he’s her mother? “I don’t care that you can’t wield a knife,” Felix snaps. “The problem is you just don’t... think. You probably thought I wouldn’t even show up and needed to get all the meal preparation done fast, so you put your own safety aside. You were careless.” Actually, the more he thinks about it, the more the blame seems to be on him for not showing up.

Though he resumes cutting the potatoes, he continues to glance back to Mercedes with -- is it worry? Is he worried about her? It’s not really his fault she got hurt, right?

Felix sighs. Damn that creeping feeling of guilt for getting to him after all. “You’re right. You do need me.” His cheeks heat up ever so slightly at his own ridiculous words. “Next time get me before you start if I forget. If you got hurt again, it would be... bothersome.” A cough. “You’re less incompetent than some people I know. At least the knife is still intact.”

[boarshield-blog]

ambitionled‌:

If she were to compare Felix to anything in the world right now…

… It would be a cat. Which is difficult, because Edelgard herself is a dog person (though she’s also weak to cats, admittedly - the creatures are cute in their own regard). Perhaps he senses this and his hostility is a result of that. It’s actually quite amusing on its own. Not even Hubert is as unfriendly as this man, as ironic as it seems - while Hubert is known to be intimidating, Felix’s coldness is not a result of appearances, but rather a seemingly personal preference for refusing to entertain meaningless conversations.

On that note, Edelgard finds that they’re alike in this regard. Normally, she’d exit the area since her business here is done, but frankly, she’s a bit intrigued by this person. Apparently, he has a history with that person.

“You seemed like the type, but forgive my presumption,” she responds idly. “You are much more like someone who will want to protect something after all.” He denies it strongly, which only further supports her theory. “It’s not far off to say that you wish to elevate your personal strength in order to protect the ones who cannot fight… or those who are weaker. After all…”

She runs her hand along wooden blade, eyes gleaming with a hint of nostalgia. “You cannot be strong by yourself. In the end, your power alone won’t be enough for the things important to you. But, ah, I’m sure you’ll discover that in due time, if not now.”

First Seteth and now Edelgard, huh? Everyone seems to preach the power of friendship to him -- Felix, we’re all so much stronger when we all hold hands and accept each other, and pretend like all our glaring flaws aren’t there -- as though it’s his fault he’s forced to keep distance from others. Of course she’s right, nothing important can be accomplished solely by oneself. But how is he supposed to rectify that? Felix doesn’t want to fight alongside his friends knowing they would foolishly throw themselves into harm’s way for him, and he certainly doesn’t want to fight alongside Dimitri after the ugly things he and only he had witnessed.

He’s silent for a while, not wishing to agree with the house leader no matter how accurate her diagnosis may be. “If you are implying I am the sort of person who trains to uphold some sort of noble ideal only to become a martyr, then no, you’re wrong. I’ve already seen the fate of plenty of people who decided on that path in life. That fate is death. I have no intention to foolishly die for someone else.”

That being said, intention or not, if the situation arose, would be run away to save his own skin? Hardly. It’s a self-contradiction and Felix knows it.

“Are you speaking from personal experience? If so, spare me your warnings,” Felix scoffs. “Why don’t you analyze someone from your own class? Or is there some specific reason you’re sizing me up specifically?” 

[boarshield-blog]

knocks on door, totally not acting like a girl scout selling cookies. "hi felix would you like to join black eagles and kill dimitri blaiddyd yourself? since ya hate him and all." [ i remembered what crack i was gonna send and decided i can't back down from a challenge ]

Felix doesn’t even like sweets so this is doubly insulting. “I could kill him myself if I wanted to,” he huffs. “It’s – it’s not like I’m actually worried about him or anything!” He reverts to being tsundere because that’s his one fandom personality trait and then stomps off to brood (in the training ground with swords because that’s his other personality trait).

[boarshield-blog]

"Felix, there you are! If you have some time to spare I would like to challenge you to a duel!"

“Of course,” Felix says without thinking -- and only then does he stop to wonder why Ferdinand even approached him in the first place. They’re not in the same class and have hardly even acknowledged one another. ...Oh, but Felix supposes he has in fact seen Ferdinand take care of his weapons quite meticulously, so that’s at least some common ground between them.

“Any particular reason, or are you just eager for a fight?” Felix asks as an afterthought. “Not that there ever has to be a motive for training.”

[boarshield-blog]

crest-of-cichol‌:

“It comes as no surprise to me that your interests lie in that subject of study.” Seteth replied, deciding to primarily focus on the conversation topic that Felix seemed to enjoy. Directing his thoughts to the study and use of weapons, he immediately reflected upon his own competence. Many were largely unaware that he was highly skilled in the use of weaponry, having participated in battles of his own. In addition, he was also capable of mounting a wyvern, a feat that he was certain even the other professors of the academy knew nothing of. Being a practical and pragmatic man, he felt no need to speak of his talents unless it was asked of him or it came up naturally in conversation, as it was now.

“I too, have greatly invested in the subject as well, both in tactics and in combat. I am rather adept when it comes to wielding a lance and axe. Recently, I have also begun training with a sword, but I still have much to learn and prefer other weapons.” He admitted, placing a hand on his chin thoughtfully. Though the sword wasn’t completely foreign to him, it felt awkward in his hand and as a result, he had focused his studies elsewhere. However, in recent days, he had taken up training his sword skills once again, supposing an old man still had room to grow. Now that he had spoken of the topic Felix would be most comfortable with, he decided to address his comments on the church. He lowered his hand, folding his arms loosely.

“You are entitled to your opinion, Felix. It matters not to me if you do not follow the teachings of Seiros. So as long as you don’t become an enemy of the church, you may think, feel, and believe what you like. It does not make a difference to me.” Seteth reassured him, glancing towards one of the stained glass windows, which took on the form of Seiros herself. He paused for a few moments, before returning his gaze to Felix.

“You needn’t tell me anything, if you do not wish to. My intention wasn’t to gauge your inadequacies, as you label them,” He stated, attempting to clarify, “I wouldn’t seek such information from your family. …you seem…resentful of your father. Is it because you feel he emphasizes your inadequacies? Or is there something more?” Seteth was acutely aware he was prying, but he was unable to resist the question. He felt that hearing his response would be…helpful. He feared that someone he knew, someone he cherished very much, was resentful towards him, at times. He did not wish for her to begin mirroring the same resentment as Felix.

Felix hadn’t realized that Seteth had combat experience, always having marked him in his mind as a nagging bookworm who spent all his time wandering the monastery with a quill and parchment in hand, taking notes on errant students to report to the archbishop. The thought of Seteth wielding an axe or lance is actually rather intriguing -- albeit a bit amusing -- and he finds himself beholding the man in a new light. It takes a lot of muscle to wield axes especially, so he must actually be fairly built under those church robes of his.

He decides to answer the man’s question before his mind wanders even further towards the mental image of dueling Seteth at the training grounds. “I have no intention of making an enemy of the church,” Felix says with a shrug. There’s nothing particularly distasteful to him about the church’s doctrines, but nothing particularly intriguing either. If some age-old goddess wishes to smite him for his impudence, she can feel free -- as long as she gives him a good sparring match first. “I didn’t realize you were so lenient about such matters. Color me surprised.” The man is surprisingly tolerant once you get past that straight-laced exterior of his. It makes him easy to talk to -- which annoys Felix further, as he absolutely did not go into this with the intention of befriending Seteth.

“My father and I differ fundamentally in our beliefs,” Felix says, turning away from Seteth to avoid eye contact. “The old fool still clings to the notion that throwing one’s life away is acceptable as long as it’s for a just and chivalrous cause. He’s self-absorbed and values pride over common sense.” Even without looking at Seteth, the statues of the Saints loom over him with judgmental expressions, and he scoffs. “I have no desire to reason with a delusional man who glorifies senseless death. The will of the dead doesn’t matter, either. They’re dead. If he’s stuck singing praises of the dead for his own pride and reassurance, I want nothing to do with him. Does that answer your question?”

There’s also Felix’s more selfish frustration about Rodrigue’s immediate shift in focus to Dimitri after Glenn had died, as though carrying on Glenn’s legacy of protecting the prince was more important than the remainder of his family. But at this point there’s nothing to be done about whatever relationship they could have had.

“Though perhaps if I die in battle, his opinion of me will change for the better,” Felix adds coolly.