#i did not expect them to give us a kiss after Cyril's “one day” speech

[vakariaan]

ultimate ships challenge - [2/10] first kisses

[ayma-nidiot]

The Ride - Sylvix fic Chapter 26

Also on AO3.

Chapter 26 – Surprises, Surprises

“So… Remind me how I ended up being the bridesmaid of honour?” Ingrid pouted the entire time Annette, Mercedes, and Dorothea tended to her appearance.

“You and me both.” Cyril happened to walk by. “How I ended up as the ring bearer, I will never know. I’ve hardly even spoken to the lucky couple today.”

“That’s because Rhea and our new archbishop trust you,” Annette replied with a smile.

“And you, my lovely Ingrid, are you really surprised?” Dorothea continued to braid Ingrid’s short hair. “Not only were you the first one to find out about their relationship, but you’re also the best friend of them both.”

“Whatever. I just think you three are using this wedding as an excuse to douse all the women with makeup.”

“The flower girl thinks she did a good job!” Flayn, with floral barrettes and even rosier cheeks, gave Ingrid a thumbs up as she walked by. “Say, are we going to get started soon? I heard there will be a lot of fish dishes at the reception. Which of course is half the fun.”

“There’s just one problem… We’ve got a couple of late guests.” Mercedes thought as she heard two men shouting outside. “Ah, here they come now!”

The late guests in question sped right past the women and straight to Sylvain’s quarters. “Hey! Where’s the man of the hour, huh?”

“You mean one of the men of the hour,” Sylvain corrected. He was embarrassed not just at his father’s late arrival, but also at his behaviour. It didn’t suit someone of his age. “No, let me guess why you’re late… It’s because of the pretty women around the monastery, isn’t it?”

“No… It’s um… because it’s been a while since I attended the Academy, and I had to ask for directions.”

“In other words, it’s because of the pretty women around the monastery.” Even though the margrave still acted like a womanizer all these years, Sylvain couldn’t ever really be mad at him. Sylvain bowed at the waist to Felix’s uncle. “Duke Fraldarius, it’s an honour to meet you. I am Sylvain Jose Gautier, the son of Margrave Gautier.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about you from my older brother before he died. Thank you for taking care of my younger nephew all this time.”

“Speaking of which, where is the blushing bride… er, groom?” Margrave Gautier asked.

“You’ll see him soon enough…” Sylvain got up as the bell of the Goddess Tower rang. Before he stepped onto the stairs, he looked up the tower and the golden sunrise backdrop. “And he will look wonderful.”

An hour later, Dorothea had just finished styling Felix’s hair into a low bun, letting a few strands hang at the sides. Annette and Mercedes stood back to look at the traditional Fraldarius clothes they worked hard to put on him. “Aww, you look so handsome! Sylvain is soooo lucky!” they squealed in unison.

“Okay, I’m handsome.” Felix started walking hastily to the Goddess Tower. “I’m handsome and very late for my own wedding. Ah!”

“Felix, watch out!” Ingrid tried to warn as Felix tripped on his cape. “Oh!”

A 10-year-old boy saved Felix from an embarrassing face plant. “Hey mister, are you okay?”

“Yes, thank you.” Felix knelt at the boy’s level. He could tell from his clothes and appearance that he was a common boy from Fraldarius. “You saved me, young man.”

The boy just now noticed Felix’s regal attire. “Hey, are you by chance Felix Hugo Fraldarius?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, man, this is the best day ever!” The boy happily jumped up and down. “Mom and Dad used to tell me all kinds of stories about you and what an awesome soldier you were!”

“They did?”

“You bet!” The boy did a few air punches. “They told me one time that you killed a boar with your bare hands.”

“Oh, that was probably just some gossip from your friends.” Felix chuckled, and was surprised when the boy didn’t laugh back.

“I… didn’t really have many friends growing up. When my mom and dad died, all my classmates thought it was because they had enough of me.” The boy began to cry. “I never really had any kind of cool parental figures after my parents’ deaths, either. I… had to live on my own. You were really the only role model I’ve had.”

“Well, I’m about to change that for you!” Felix declared proudly. “There’s going to be a really cool wedding at the Goddess Tower, and I’d love for you to come. There will be lots of yummy food and fun games. And there certainly won’t be any of those mean bullies that you’ve met.”

“Really?” The boy not only stopped crying, he lit up.

“Of course!” Mercedes took the boy by the hand while giving Felix a sidelong stare. “Now come, you don’t want to be late like a certain someone.”

The sun had arisen completely now while the birds fled from their previous hiding places. A spacious crowd gathered under the balcony of the Goddess Tower as Flayn tossed flowers from there. Mercedes couldn’t contain her excitement at the wedding about to commence. “Aww, I should have put some concealer on him at least…”

“Maybe you’ll find a chance to if you visit Fraldarius,” replied Ingrid, lifting Felix’s long cape off the ground while he walked.

As he stepped out from the shade, Felix shielded his face from the sun and the oncoming doves with his arm. Even as he walked to the balcony, he could hardly look at his soon-to-be husband in the eye.

Sylvain brushed aside Felix’s bangs and spoke softly, “Hey. Don’t be shy now of all times; let me see your beautiful face.”

Byleth, the newly appointed archbishop of the Church, grinned at this adorable display as she gestured for silence from the excited crowd below. “O holy Sothis! We stand before you today to ask for your blessings upon Sylvain Jose Gautier and Felix Hugo Fraldarius as they become joined in marriage. May you shower them with many years together, filled with love, light, and fortune. May their homelands become more prosperous with each passing day as the people will grow to respect them.”

Byleth’s conclusion of her speech prompted Sylvain to begin stating his vows. “I have lived a life full of unsavoury tendencies. I thought that I could never find true love because of my Crest. I thought that it was my only redeemable quality. But the day I met you, I started to believe that maybe, just maybe, I really do have worth. I’ve grown to love myself – and you – in all these years we’ve known one another. I’ll protect you with everything I have; this I swear.”

How am I supposed to top that? Felix had rehearsed his vows several times but at that moment, his mind drew a blank. “I… don’t have a way with words like you. People never forgot to remind me of it, and for the longest time, I didn’t care what they thought of me. What need for pretty words have I, a swordsman so dedicated to his training? It took all the practice in the world just to prepare me for this moment… But for me, it was worth it, to let all of Fódlan know how much I love you. It was worth it to be able to tell you that I will cherish and protect you for as long as I live.”

After a short pause, Byleth continued, “Do you, Sylvain Jose Gautier, take Felix Hugo Fraldarius as your husband?”

“I do!” Sylvain answered with a wink as he put his family ring on Felix’s finger.

“And do you, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, take Sylvain Jose Gautier as your husband?”

“I do.” Felix did the same, and there was no shyness in his voice now.

“Then by the power invested in I, Byleth Eisner, archbishop of the Church of Seiros… I now pronounce the two of you spouses for life.” Byleth gave Sylvain a wink and whispered, “Go on, hotshot, give him a big kiss.”

Don’t need to tell me that, Professor, Sylvain thought as he clasped the back of Felix’s head and kissed him for a long time.

“Aww!” The ten-year-old boy from earlier cheered, along with other monastery residents from the ground. “So this big wedding was for Felix, huh?”

Felix finally broke the kiss gently and now faced the crowd. “Oh, and I thought I’d like to take this opportunity to make an important announcement, particularly to my fellow citizens of Fraldarius. I accept the title of the Duke of Fraldarius… and so does my husband.”

“Whoa…” A few citizens were surprised, but most appeared to accept it.

“But wait…” A young man from Gautier spoke up. “Then who’s going to inherit House Gautier?”

Sylvain expected and feared for this topic to come up, but he didn’t want to lie to his people. “I pass that title to my brother Miklan.” Sylvain turned to his best man. “That is, if he is willing.”

“What?” The mention of Miklan’s name sparked whispers throughout. “He’s alive?”

“Yes.” Miklan turned around. “Though at times I don’t think I deserved to be… I am glad to be now, if only to atone for what I have done. If at any time the people think I don’t deserve this title, I will willingly step before a jury, and you may do what you will. But all I ask is this chance to gain your trust.”

“Miklan…” Margrave Gautier hadn’t seen his son in such a long while, not even after the Battle of Enbarr. To make sure that his elder son was not an apparition, he ran as fast as he could up the Goddess Tower’s stairs to get a good look at him.

Miklan didn’t expect this to occur, and didn’t really want it, either. He shifted uncomfortably before saying, “H-Hello, Father. It’s been a while.”

“You’re… alive.” The margrave’s voice sounded void of emotion. “How?”

“It’s a long story.” Miklan secretly brandished his Crest. “So, um… about the title-”

“I can’t say I’m 100% comfortable with it yet, but if Sylvain approves, then I will approve too.”

“I’m… um… glad, I guess.” Miklan could look at his father now, and noticed the margrave shedding a few tears.

“Oh, haha… Don’t mind me. I’m just… hoping… that we can at least try to get along as a family. I’m glad to have the chance.”

“Aaaand here come the waterworks!” Sylvain took the both of them in for a group hug, spurring many members of the crowd to also cry. Just as he was getting caught in the family bonding, he noticed a young black-haired boy standing just inside the shadow behind the balcony. “Oh? Who might you be, young man?”

“Ah, he’s a citizen of Fraldarius,” Felix cut in. “He actually saved me from damaging my ‘pretty face’ earlier.”

“So what brings you here?” Sylvain knelt down.

“I just… wanted to say to Felix that… Congratulations.” The ten-year-old boy grinned. “You’re right about having fun. I’ve already met a lot of really nice kids just now. I’m thankful.”

Felix pondered a while before asking the boy, “Young man, what is your name?”

“I’m Remy, sir.”

“How would you like to live with Sylvain and I?” Felix gave a quick glance to his husband for approval, which Sylvain readily gave. “We will give you the life that was stolen from you too soon.”

“I can have a family again?” Remy started crying tears of joy. “I… I… I would love to!”

“Oh, quit your crying!” Sylvain chuckled as he carried the boy, letting the crowd see him. “Everyone, I present to you Remy, the third in line to Fraldarius’ throne!”

“Aww, right!” Remy did a little victory pose, getting a huge confidence boost from the approving crowd. “Look out, world, I’m going to be a great soldier just like Papa!”

After the crowd had died down, and the wedding festivities had already started, Sylvain and Felix descended the stairs. Sylvain wasn’t surprised that Dorothea had caught the bouquet Felix had thrown, and now she bragged that one day she would be with her “beloved Ingrid.”

“Sylvain?” Felix took note of how silent Sylvain had become after they got back to the ground level. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Sylvain watched as Remy played with his new friends from the monastery. He was especially friendly to an 8-year-old Gautier girl and her 1-year-old sister who just started learning how to walk. The two older kids flew a sewn-up doll around, much to the 1-year-old’s amusement. “I’m just… I don’t know, I didn’t take you for the type to want kids someday.”

“Surprises, surprises.” Felix smiled as he gripped his husband’s hand. “That kid has been through a lot… I figured that I’d give him a fresh start. A new life.”

“Maybe this is wishful thinking, but… I hope we will live our lives in sheer happiness, for years without end.”

[chnat0wn]

Black Irises

Relationship: Alfie Solomons/Original Female Character

Summary: Deborah meets her sweet, jewish boy she used to know. He is different now. He is a man. He changed when she left him. War changed him.

Alfie Solomons has a few rules. One of them says that no one is allowed to touch or even get near to his woman. Even though Deborah isn't his anymore, he still considers her his own property. 

tags: [young love, meeting after years, aggressive partner, angst and comfort]

AO3 LINK

00. The Beach

Deborah entered the building, which from the very beginning was the purpose of her journey. She caught Polly and Ada's attention. They were inside when she decided to disturb their peace in an extremely rapid way. She was breathing heavily and deeply, feeling the familiar, inevitable burning in her chest. The women watched her - they knew exactly why she came.

“Where is he?” she asked without hesitation. She only needed a few deeper breaths. Without waiting for any answer, she moved quickly to Tommy's office. She opened the door, using a little more force than she intended. The room was empty. “Where the fuck is he?”

Ada stood in the entrance to her older brother's office. She looked at Deborah and took a deep breath. She didn't say a word, instead she pursed her lips and followed Deborah, who was looking for one of the books in the desk. She counted on getting any information about the current location of Thomas Shelby as if she expected him to record the exact date and place of the planned revenge.

“Where are they, Ada?” she wailed desperately. She ran her fingers through her hair in a purely nervous gesture, and once again looked around the room. She hoped that Tommy would be at her side any minute, that she would be able to talk to him. “I know what Alfie did. I also know that he should be punished for this. But not this way, Ada. Not this way...” she spoke uncontrollably, having more and more problems with breathing. “He is a good man. Each of us has moments of weakness, don’t we? He just wanted... he had to find a way to...”

“Out of the pan and into the fire.” Ada interjected. “First, you believed that this fucking Italian-tyrant could change. That he'll stop beating the shit out of you.” she folded her arms and shook her head in disbelief. “Now you hope you can change Solomons. You justify everything he did. At least you try to justify that he agreed to kill Tommy.”

“He had no choice.” she protested, dropping her hands. They fell involuntarily. She knew that if she would stay here and have a senseless conversation with Ada, she wouldn't be able to do anything, she would lose her precious time.

“Sure, he had not.” she snorted. “I have helped you many times. Because you are my friend and I love you like my own sister. But I don't know if I can put my real family above your happiness. Which, by the way, you probably won't get. Not with someone like Solomons.”

Deborah's eyes welled up with tears. It happened often when she was falling into pieces, which was not a sign of weakness. Most often she cried when the pain was unbearable. Never out of helplessness, but now - completely involuntarily - she made an exception. At the thought of Tommy getting rid of Alfie at any moment, a mixture of negative feelings filled her to the brim. A mixture of negative feelings that she couldn't take with calmness.

Ada noticed a change on Deborah's face. At first she saw the uneasiness in her eyes. Now she could see the pain that distorted her smooth, pale visage.

“Listen, Debby. I don't know where he is. He rarely tells me about his destinations.” she said reproachfully. She could no longer look at how Deborah was falling apart from the overwhelming feeling, under the pressure from Ada.

“Formby Beach.” Polly interjected. The woman appeared out of nowhere. Although Deborah was aware that Polly is nearby, she was surprised by her sudden presence. She glanced at the smoldering cigarette, then at Polly's face. An expression of worry pierced her face. “You better be hurry. Tommy set off about ten minutes ago. And I don't think that anything will stop him from what he intends.” she said and brought the cigarette back to her mouth.

“Oh, God. Thank you so much, Pol.” Deborah approached the woman quickly, wrapped her arms around her neck, then laid a quick kiss on her cheek. Then, she left the building and bumped into Arthur. She looked at him, frowning.

“Good day, Debby girl!” he shouted.

“Not now, Arthur.”

 * 

“Ishmael” Deborah touched the man's forearm and pointed to a distant point. The view of the beach caused a piercing heat have through her body. She also saw three silhouettes – Tommy, Alfie and Cyril. “Stop the car.” she asked, and before Ishmael extinguished the engine, she opened the door. She fell out of the car and rushed roughly towards the beach. The weather seemed perfect – a light breeze blew the neck and cheeks of Deborah, and the high placed sun cast pleasantly warm rays. The sky was extremely blue and the sea exceptionally calm. She would stop, give more attention to everything that was around her if it was not for the task she gave herself. Tommy has chosen a beautiful day undoubtedly. Or that day favored his intentions. 

Tommy was aiming for Alfie. The weapon outlet was at the height of Alfie's face. Tommy was hesitating, which the casual person would not be able to see. Because Tommy didn't hesitate like other people; he didn't show uncertainty, he didn't consider the pros and cons. He was appeared determined, as someone who had already made the decision. But he delayed carrying out the task assigned to him by himself. Seeing all this, Deborah almost made a pitiful moan. At first she couldn't bring herself to make any sound, no matter how much she wanted to prevent Alfie from upcoming judgment. She heard that they were talking – if the conversation consisted of Alfie's one–sided monologue – but she couldn't catch specific words, the meaning of the speech. She was too far away, the blood was too loud in her ears.

“Stop it!” she screamed, realizing that it would be all over before she gets to the right place. “Put down the gun, Tommy. Please!” she added in one breath. She was in the habit of asking instead of ordering. Alfie often admonished her that she should be a bit tougher if she wants to survive. That she should treat men a bit harder.

They both looked at her. Alfie's face expressed surprise and horror Deborah had never seen before. Tommy looked indifferent, though she was able to see the movement of his jaw as he pursed his lips in dissatisfaction. She stood at the point between Alfie and Tommy. She brushed individual strands of hair from her face, breathing heavily. She stared at Tommy – she expected that he could use the moment of inattention and settle the matter as it should. She looked at Alfie, however.

“You shouldn't fucking be 'ere, right? You shouldn't get involved in 'his.” Alfie drawled. He was clearly offended by the fact that someone interrupted him with such an intimate experience as his own death.

“Shush!” she turned to him, raising her finger.

Deborah looked at Tommy again. She came to him slowly. The sand made it difficult to move, not to mention stepping up – she was shaking on her feet as the shoes were sinking in the soft, golden surface. She was like a child who was just learning how to walk. Besides, she felt unimaginably tired. She stepped up in front of Tommy, never taking her eyes off his face.

“Don’t do it.” she whispered pleadingly. “He deserved it after all he did. Except that I don't have a goddamn idea why he did it...” she glanced at Alfie with reproach, then returned to Tommy. “Let him live. Not for himself, but for me. For Benjamin.” she smiled crookedly, though her eyes filled with tears. After a moment, one of them ran down her cheek. “Otherwise, shoot me too.” she nodded decisively. 

Tommy looked away from Alfie and slowly moved it to Deborah. He hadn't been making exceptions, even if a woman asked him to do otherwise. If he had to avenge a family member or other important case, he was unstoppable. He didn't accept arguments or prayers. Still, something in Deborah's face meant that he would be able to consider it all again.

“Mphm... We can be together forever.” Alfie interjected. He was strangely calm, unmoved by the whole situation. “Somewhere else. In a better place. In Olam ha–ba.”

Deborah turned slowly and looked at him with a pain that didn't accompany her even when she was with her previous husband. She didn't understand his attitude. She didn't accept the words he said. She didn't believe he could talk to her that way. She didn't believe that he thought he could convince her this way. She looked at him with a distinct grief, as if she was angry with him. Alfie was close to looking away. But then he would show his weakness.

“You, sweetie” Alfie pointed at her. “you have yer fucking, perfect ending, eh?” he said. “Let me have mine. This 's exactly as I wanted it to be. You can leave, right. No need to watch.”

“You can't be serious.” she shook her head. She pursed her lips and looked away only for a moment. She looked at the sky over her head, closed her eyes and let the warm rays fall on her face, drowning in the golden light of the sun to gain strength. She looked at Alfie again. She sniffed and walked over to him, traveling twice as long as to Tommy. She stepped in front of a silhouette emitting extraordinary power, in front of the silhouette which she always felt safe with. Familiar warmth beat out of Alfie's body. The warmth she wanted to remember. That's why she approached him a few extra inches and placed her hands on his stomach, sliding them under the flap of his thick coat. Alfie raised his hand to her face. He stroked her cheek with his thumb, and then he wiped another tear that fell down her face.

“Don’t say that. Don't do such a thing to me.” she whispered. Alfie looked at her with complete understanding. However, Deborah wasn't able to understand how he could be so calm. She knew why, since he chose such an end for himself. But she didn't know how he was managing it. “Don't do this to us.”

“Yeah. Our Benji.” he gasped expressionlessly. “He'll understand it.” he answered in the same tone as before. Deborah frowned with disbelief. “He's a big boy. And you acting like a little girl, aren't you?”

Alfie looked away and thrust his gaze into Tommy's face. As if he expected he would do what he came for. Deborah followed his glance, then raised her hands to his face and forced him to look at her. Only now did she notice the difficulty with which he looked into her eyes. He never had that big problem with it. He was usually self–confident, crushing her with his power, a hard, dominant gaze. It came naturally, he never wanted her to feel worse than him. But she felt that she should worship him. Go to her knees and pray to her own Lord and Savior, who Alfie was to her.

“Maybe he'll understand.” she replied, taking the same indifferent calm. She looked down just to gather her thoughts. She had to wonder if she should reveal a theory that had been bouncing off the walls of her mind for a long time. It was like a biting insect reminding her of its presence. “You can't take a father away from the children. Do you understand me, Alfie?” she asked, looking him in the eye again.

Alfie opened his eyes wider, frowned and raised his chin a bit, looking at Deborah from a different angle. He had never thought that he would be able to feel so many conflicting emotions. He wasn't stupid and he thought he knew what Deborah was talking about. Out of fear, he didn't allow himself this thought. If he was not mistaken, and Deborah's words were quite obvious, he was not ready for what was waiting for him.

“Fuck me...” he took a deep breath through his slightly parted lips. He raised his hands and covered Deborah's hands with them. He has always admired her beauty. For him, she was a rare masterpiece, the most precious gemstone. He was grateful that he had met her again, that he could be with her. But now he couldn't tell if he felt any happiness. He pursed his mouth, making one of the lip disappear somewhere under his mustache. He squeezed his eyelids as if some unidentified, exceptionally loud and troublesome noise disturbed his thoughts. Deborah saw a single, wet trail run through Alfie's cheek. He took an uneven breath and dropped to his knees, sliding his hands down Deborah's body. He buried his face in her stomach and embraced her, clinging her like a last resort. Deborah slipped her fingers into his hair and breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s all right, Alfie. It's over now.” she said quietly. “Everything will be fine.”

Alfie didn't believe her words. He knew that it has been better back then. And they probably never will be happier than they used to be. Their best times have passed, and attempts to come to terms with this thought have ended in failure. He couldn't see the future. And he didn't feel convinced about the positives of life, even when Deborah was with him. He felt even worse with the thought that once again he must bring her into the world that surrounded him. Such delicate, seemingly weak woman in his dangerous reality. He didn't want to think about raising children in this conditions. He knew what happened to Grace Shelby.

“We'll move to Margate. Just like in your visions.” she smiled slightly. She leaned over and kissed the top of Alfie's head. She glanced at Tommy, who was watching them. “You'll never see him again. He will never hurt your family. You have my word. Just let us go.”

It was said that Thomas Shelby had softened. Maybe they were right. Maybe he was less brutal, but he never lost his cunning and skill to solve problems. And this time he could see another way out of the situation.

“If he dares to threaten my family again, I will kill him. Without blinking. Understood?” he said, not even trying conviction. He just looked at Deborah, and he gave her no choice but to believe his words.