#i'm not friends with the other teacher anymore but that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things

[musicinthebranchesoftheveins]

Honestly the only incentive I have for staying at my job is because there are Native children who need guidance and no. 1: I didn't have adult Natives around when I was little except for my mom and relatives who lived far away; no. 2: the lead teacher's attempts to sabotage the place will be answered by heavy karma she's got coming to her

[lbashes]

PREVIOUS (x) (x)

The moment Sylvain's feet touch the earthy training grounds, Felix throws a spear at him, and Sylvain fears if he didn't pick it up, it might just have left a scar or two. 

Felix picks a sword made of wood because they're training and the teachers refuse to hand them metal ones, but Sylvain knows quite well it doesn't mean he won't get out of here without bruises. 

“You're really determined, aren't you?” Sylvain jokes, or at least tries to, so this awkward atmosphere can be dispersed. “Told you I'm–”

Sylvain steps aside, blocking Felix's sword with the spear's shaft. 

“What are yo–”

“Less talking, more fighting.” Felix jumps back, then runs toward him again, and it takes all Sylvain's strength to push him away this time. 

“I thought you brought me here to talk?” 

Felix smiles playfully, “Well, I did want to spare with you too.”

Sylvain scoffs, raising his spear toward Felix, but with a swing of his sword, Sylvain is sent down on the ground, his spear flying away. 

“So? What's with you?”

Sylvain groans. It's a rule they set, long ago, when they were kids and upset about everything, that if one of them lost, he must remain honest; and Sylvain hates it, because he keeps losing. 

“I'm fine,” Sylvain holds his tongue, rubbing his head, until he's surprised with the tip of a sword under his chin, and cold sweat running down his spine. 

“I–” He tries, looking away, “It's just–” but quickly gives up, his hand falling to the ground. “I don't want you to get married.”

Sylvain did not realize how much he hated the idea until the words came out of his mouth, resigned and full of spite. 

Felix whistles. “That much?”

“Yeah.” Sylvain sighs, pushing the sword away with his bare hand, and Felix lets him. “Why do you even do it? You never listened to your old man. When Glenn and Ingrid's engagement came up and your father tried to find someone for you to marry as well, you ran away and hid in the gardens for the whole day.” 

“This day, you only came out because I found you. So why now?”

Felix lowers his sword, dispirited. 

“Because my father brought it up again and Glenn isn't here anymore.” 

He walks away, to the other side of the training grounds where Sylvain's spear disappeared, turning his back to him. “And I can't marry Ingrid, because I can't do that to her, so I have to find someone else. House Fraldarius isn't in a bad situation, but the tensions between nobles won't stop just because Dimitri ascends to the throne, we have to solidify our position.” 

Felix hands Sylvain the spear as soon as he returns, “Of course, it doesn't matter for you. Your house has a good reputation and its title is equivalent to a prince, or a duke at least. You'll be fine even without marriage.”

Sylvain doesn't know why, but the words sting. What does he know of him? What right does he have to assume he doesn't want to get married? 

“And what if I want to?” He asks, his clenched fist trembling around the shaft. 

Felix blinks, surprised. “Well, then you won't have any problem finding you a good suitor.”

Sylvain grips his spear tighter, pushes Felix away, takes advantage of the effect of surprise to hit him in the ribs. 

Felix reacts, but not soon enough, and the blow hurts enough for him to lose sight of Sylvain, only for a brief moment. 

Sylvain throws his spear away, is left only with his fists, which is a blessing to him, he's been wanting to punch Felix since he first heard of this whole engagement thing. Sylvain grabs him by the collar, punches him in the face and Felix trips, grabs Sylvain's clothes as well, bringing him down with him. 

They fight like cat and dog, rolling in the dirt in a mess of groaning limbs, until Sylvain pines Felix down, firmly holding his arms against the ground. 

“You're wrong.” He whispers in a panting breath, with scratches on his face and knuckles. “Those who approach me, I don't want them. Women have only eyes for my crest and men desire for my rank. There's no one.” 

Except you, he wants to say. But he's not brave enough. 

Felix breathes heavily, looking into Sylvain's saddened eyes. He can feel his grip tightening around his wrists, hurting his bones, but says nothing of it. 

“Even us?” He tries, because he's known him for so damn long, because Sylvain has been a too grand part of his life to only be called a friend. “What about our comrades? Do you think they'd only be after your crest too?”

Sylvain doesn't answer. Instead, he says he only knows the three of them well, which is the same as saying except them three, he doesn't trust anyone. 

“What about the boar? Or Ingrid?” 

Sylvain laughs at him. “Dimitri will be king.”

“So?” Felix raises a brow. “Even better. Your rank is lower than his. Problem solved.”

“I– No. Not Dimitri.” 

“And Ingrid…” Sylvain shakes his head. Definitely not Ingrid. “We wouldn't be a good match; you know we are as close as brother and sister.” 

Felix bites his tongue, tries to talk, but thinks better of it. He has long given up on this possibility. 

But when he sees the light in Sylvain's eyes, so lost, almost begging, Felix starts to hope, that maybe, maybe Sylvain wants to reach for him. 

“What about me then?” He says, both relieved and dreadful of the answer who is to come. 

However, against his hopes, Sylvain shuts down. Lets go of Felix's wrists, stands on his two feet, clenched fists and back turned to him. 

“You're getting engaged.” He mumbles, the sole thought of Felix offering a ring to someone else is enough to make his blood boil in his veins.

And before Felix can say anything, Sylvain runs away. 

Felix watches him leave, pain vividly printed on his face, torn between resignation and the idiotic hope that after all these years, Sylvain would look his way.