Fe3H Scenarios

So I know you all must be wondering, what on earth do Felix and Byleth do after they get married?? Well, my honest opinion is that when Byleth’s not drowning in her Archbishop duties she’s in Fraldarius territory helping Felix train upcoming recruits. It also gives Felix the perfect opportunity to see if he can best his wife with new tactics…only to get his ass handed to him when she uses all her cards rip. Even with his surmounting losses, he still enjoys the thrill of clashing blades with her and hopefully one of these days he’d get to face the Sword of the Creator’s power head on. Now if only he can get her to stop caring about wounding him…

In return, he likes to go on missions with Byleth whenever she has to do “work for the church” that just so happens to involve wiping out a group. He doesn’t like the idea of Byleth tainting her blade on people who aren’t worth the fight, so he mowes them down for her. On the bright side, when they return from the fight, Felix let’s his wife tug him into the bath to take a nice soak together. Byleth enjoys talking down his dark locks from his loose ponytail and running her fingers through his tresses. While Felix will never admit it, he does enjoy the feeling of her plush body pressed against his own and the relaxing downstroke of her fingers makes his body tremble. I 100% hc that Felix’s head is very sensitive to the touch and Byleth takes advantage of it any chance she gets to turn him into a grumpy lump of mush.

It’s a few years into their marriage before the two of them settle down long enough to decide that they want to have kids. Between Seteth’s constant mother hen syndrome, Sylvain’s constant teasing about “Felix never wanting snot nosed brats of his own”, the church community and their closest allies wanting to have a celebration of this new life….. things are pretty stressful for the two. Byleth pushes herself to work up until the 6th to 7th month because of Felix’s constant and loud demands that she needs to stay home and rest. The birth itself goes smoothly with the help of top healers from the army and the Knights of Seiros thanks to Alois, who also practically tore Byleth’s eardrums out as he boasted about being a godparent…. though she hadn’t even asked him yet.

Whether they have a boy or a girl, Felix is going to make sure that he’s around to care for him. He doesn’t want his son or daughter to experience the same emotions he felt for his own father up until his death. That cycle of tormet itself was buried along with his father fortunately. So he unwillingly gives is Dukedom work to his remaining family members, Sylvain, and Ingrid who all promised to help pitch in. Byleth is beyond exhausted after the birth and takes a few months off from work to rest and care for her child. So she leaves most of her work to Seteth to take care of which he accepts without any issue.

When the baby cries at 3 in the morning, Felix is already on his feet with a bottle and diaper in hand to cater to their needs. The times when he actually lets Byleth get out of bed to help, she sits in the chair swaddling the small infant with Felix’s hand loosely clenched on her shoulder. Who holds the baby any time that they get you might wonder? It’s definitely Felix, no matter who is around him. Normally, you’d probably think that Sylvain could get a rise out of him about it, but think again. The awakening to parenthood has left him immune to any jabs Sylvain has to offer….well….at least when their child is in his arms. The second Byleth takes the baby away he’s back to his same old same old bark.

When the three of them are spending time together, it usually involves the three off them sitting with their infant cradled in Byleth’s arms. The lean muscle of Felix’s arms digging into her sides as he wrapped them around her waist, occasionally poking the baby’s soft cheek or letting them wrap their tiny hands around his finger. Red alert, red alert Felix is extra soft at hand holding, but his newborn holding his hand is an instant wipe to his consciousness. It’s too pure for his heart. Sometimes when he’s holding the baby, they tend to reach up and yank his locks free. So he has to go seek Byleth’s help to fix his hair without jostling their baby around too much. Oh and did I mention that he’s overprotective? He was already the Sword and Shield of the Archbishop, but that also extends to his child. He’ll protect them and educate them about the world so that the reality of the world is less of an impactful blow. He’s definitely not one to sugarcoat things, so expect a lot of blunt answers lol.

Would he have more kids? Well, he’d probably wait a couple of years in between but as long as Byleth is okay with it, he’s down for a few more! By the time they get older, he’ll have his own mini army of soldiers that he’ll 100% be proud of even if they don’t pick up a sword.

Each letter you wrote when the two of you were separated were frantic scrawls, voicing your deepest darkest fears and your constant worry for his wellbeing. Did he make it out of the clash without any mortal wounds? How was he feeling after discovering Edelgard’s betrayal? What would happen to the everyone now? And as each week passes by, your messages tone down from being frantic to downright sombre and depressed. As that time molded into years, your letters were the only form of comfort you had, clearly expressing thoughts and emotions you’ve had about him and how much you worry for him. In a way, you were honestly kinda glad that you never gathered the courage to send the letters. You recounted countless memories of your school days and it helped you to keep the memory alive. To keep his love for you alive...

Little did you know that one of these days, Claude would unearth the box solely out of curiosity. He plopped down onto your bed, legs swinging back and forth as he thought of different ways to surprise you. Only for the boot heel to kick something solid underneath your bed, causing him to bend over and inspect the object, discovering the worn box. The lid was tilted awkwardly as the neatly folded pieces of parchment jutted out of the worn box. Picking one up and carefully unfolding it, his eyes quickly skimmed over the undated letter his eyes immediately catching the “Dear Claude”.... this was a letter directed to him?? Wait...

After reading over the first one, the walls he kept himself isolated in crumbled after he pulled letter after letter from the box. He couldn’t help but let out a frustrated huff towards himself, here he was doubting if you still held feelings for him after all these years. Yes... he could’ve simply asked you, but these pieces of parchment aged by time and constant folding and unfolding had a stronger affect on him. Every endinig paragraph was an ode of adoration to him, asking how he was doing, if he was getting enough sleep at night, to make sure he untangled his hair in the morning. You reminded him time and time again in each letter that you loved him with your entire being and that you missed him dearly. One letter was just a memory of the two of you stargazing, hushed whispers fluttering between the two of you, those buried hopes and dreams resurfacing at the thought of forging a better tomorrow.

One letter in particular was torn at the corners and littered with dry yet translucent stains accompanied with blood. Goddess only knows what state you were in before you wrote this letter, defending the people of the village that took you in with your life... that was only something you would do. Put yourself in front of others and shield them from harms way.

Claude had to press a hand to his flushed face, squeezing his eyes shut to try and shove down the tidal wave of emotions he felt crash against his walls. To think, you spent all these years thinking about him constantly never once giving up on him, even when the two of you never crossed paths again until now. Honestly, he felt disgusted with himself... he should’ve never doubted you. He just had to find you now and apologize, though no amount of apologizing can get rid of the weight he feels. Not until he sees how you react.

When he hears the jiggling of your doorknob, he sits ramrod straight not even making a attempt to reassemble the letters because he’d be caught either way. You entered the room without noticing him yet, clearly lost in your own thoughts until you faced him and let out a startled yelp. How were you supposed to know that Claude would be in your room? The haunted expression on his face was a clear distinction that something was wrong here. Before you could open your mouth and ask him what was wrong, he beat you to the chase.

“S/o, I... I read some of your letters.” He said, taking notice of the way your precious box was cracked open with a few letters scattered along your bedsheet. The sight of the bloody one in his hand caused your mind to reflect on that day, remembering the pain you went through. And at the same time, wondering if he was experiencing any pain of his own.

“I....was supposed to send those but I just never found the courage to. I’m sorry, Claude.” You whimpered, eyes cast downward so that your hair helped to hide the tears forming. The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel bad.

His feet pressed harshly against the floorboards as he hopped off your bed, storming over towards you with a serious glint his eyes as he hesitantly took you into his arms. His own expression shifting from neutral to pensive when you buried your head into his shoulder, the fabric already dampening. The soft whisper of, “if anything, it should be me apologizing s/o. I’m so sorry for every doubting you.” really had you reeling. You just shook your head, not entirely sure of what he was talking about but you wanted him to know that he was forgiven.

Hearing your muffled words only caused his hold on you to tighten, relishing in the moment of your bonds healing. The raw emotion formed in this moment made you weak in the knees, causing them to give out before you even knew it. But with Claude’s quick reflexes, he managed to hoise you up by the waist and held you in place. A startled yelp left you as he made you wrap your legs around his waist and he shifted the two of you around until he was sitting on your bed once more, holding onto you for dear life. You couldn’t help but card your fingers through his slick hair, dragging your nails along his scalp to help soothe him. The both of you were shaking from such an overwhelming moment, a conversation echoing through the silence between your hushed breathing and intimate touches.

After some time passed and the two of you settled down, Claude pulled away from your embrace with red tinged eyes to peck you on the lips. A chuckle escaping him when you leaned forward for your own kiss, an “I love you” pressed against his lips. With a smile, he pulls away to resist your kisses again and in return presses his lips under your eyes, along your cheekbones, down your jaw, and a extra one towards your neck for extra measure. A breathy laugh escaped you when his hands dragged along your sides, making you squirm at the tickling sensation. It was a conversation of sincerity and devotion, each trail of fingers, each caress.

“...Since those letters are addressed to you, I’m okay with letting the recipient finally read them all.” You hummed, nodding your head in approval when he asked if you were sure. These letters would help open the conversation of what both of your lives were like during your half a decade apart. And how unbearable it was to be without the other. You never know, Claude may have a couple of unsent letters of his own that he’d like for you to see someday?

As you were writing the letter, you couldn’t stop thinking about how Professor Byleth would react. Would they gently let you down? Tell you that the idea of being with a student was repulsive? Would they even have tea time with you anymore? Your mind conjured one insecure thought after another and by the time you quill scratched along the last line of parchment.

Knowing that your Professor has the tendency to scout at night, you knew that you’d need to wait and go to the cathedral when he was eating lunch with another student. You’d just need to keep the letter secure in your pocket and make sure no one else sees it. Imagine your luck after choir practice, Dorothea came up to you wanting you to listen to her newest hymn. Then, you ran into Sylvain inside the corridor flirting with some random girl, who thankfully only stopped to greet you. And then, Hilda’s loud whinning could be heard as you approached the training grounds complaining to Claude about breaking a sweat. By the time you managed to sneak up the steps to reach Byleth’s door, the letter was wrinkled from your tight grip. After pacing back and forth in front of their opened door, you just decided to throw caution to the wind and leave it on their work desk.

Throughout the remainder of the year, you try to remain nonchalant whenever you interacted with them. Shoving your feelings deeper into the depths of your heart so that you wouldn’t have to face them outright. Even when you keep your promise to the Professor and return to the monastery with a heavy heart, you wanted to keep the promise you made to the others, to them. So imagine your relief when you find out your ex-teacher is alive and well after being asleep for 5 years. The depressed cloak looming over you lifted when you saw their small smile.

Oddly enough, every change they got, they would offer to spend time with you over tea, in the sauna, at the cafeteria, giving kind compliments during lectures, and they’re even at your side on the battlefield at every chance. The amount of time they spent with you honestly worried you after some point, in fear that your feelings would become more and more apparaent to them over time. Little did you know that Byleth was spending all this time with you because they felt the same way. Honestly, it’s like a dream come true.

By the time the two of you were engaged, Byleth finally revealed to you that they knew the entire time that you were the person who wrote that letter. After reading over your worksheets and homework assignments for months, they recognized your handwriting. They’d never seen your face get so red, a garbled sound escaping your lips as you stared with wide eyes. You mean... they knew about your feelings for all these years and didn’t say anything??? At least you can say that Byleth is ever the attentive fiance and you can always depend on them. The confused puppy dog stare they gave you made your heart twinge and you muttered out an apology. It looks like your letter helped bring the two of you together, so if anything you have to say thank you to your younger self.

When you first mention it to Claude, you honestly don’t expect him to try a test ride immediately after the words leave your lips. But he’s a man of action and he wants to see all the cute faces you’ll make when you get on his trusty steed... that can also cleave you in two. But that’s only if she doesn’t like someone.

Claude’s excitement made you forget allll about your motion sickness, even as he helped you mount and settle in before telling her to take off. The minute her feet left the ground, you felt the annoying twinge of nausea. You groaned and gripped on the back of Claude’s sleeve, pulling youself closer to him as the wind lapped over your face.

He let out a cheery “yahoo!” and wrapped your arms around his waist as he held onto the reins, telling you that he’s been wanting to do this with you for so long. Your weak groan barely reached his ears, accompanied by the “I think I’m gonna be sick” which spurred him into action. He literally only had .5 of a second to react by pulling your arms out from under his and turning your head to the side carefully so that he didn’t make your nausea worse. His wyvern let out a questioning warble and tucked her wings inward to go into a gentle glide.

Although you didn’t puke up your breakfast, your dry heaving left your body flushed and your mind disoriented as Claude ran soothing fingers up and down your back while not trying to get anything on himself. Internally, he cursed himself for forgetting the fact that mounts made you get motion sickness. How could he forget something so important?? Hopefully you weren’t on the verge of strangling him for being a forgetful boyfriend.

Just when he gets ready to grab at his wyvern’s reins again and direct her closer to the ground, you loop your hand around his wrist to stop him in his tracks saying that you were still able to continue. Before he could persist that you needed to get down so that you could rest, he glanced over at your weary yet reassuring smile that made him decide to keep going. Good thing his wyvern is used to not being guided around by the reigns because he can give you his undivided attention and describe what it’s like to be in the air during battles and marches.

He tells you about how he’s imagined whisking you away in the middle of the night to go out for a ride and how he wanted to show you what it was like to touch the clouds and see the stars up close. Claude furrows his brows when he says “I don’t know if you’d be able to handle it. I wouldn’t want your motion sickness to keep you from enjoying yourself.” your pulse flutters at his thoughtfulness, your mind already conjuring up what that would be like. You immediately deny it and say that as long as his wyvern flies at a steady pace, you’ll be fine. But in return, he has to do something for you that he might not enjoy either as payback.

Hands pressed into his lap, Byleth kept eyeing at Seteth’s taller form from the corner of his eye. An unfamiliar sense of anxiousness filled him as they sat on the edge of Seteth’s bed, lost in their own thoughts. It took Seteth placing his sweaty palm atop Byleth’s thigh for the male to snap out of his thoughts. If he had a heartbeat, his heart would flutter in his chest.

“Is there... something on your mind dear?” Seteth asked, his voice immediately revealing his own nervousness. Byleth’s mouth twitched upwards in a small smile of endearment. Reaching up to graze the older man’s facial hair, he leans forward and barely brushes his lips against his jaw.

“Oh, is that all you wanted?” He hummed, each press of Byleth’s lips causing the tension from a normal day’s work ebbing away from his conscious. Light green hair tickled his nose and the male shook his head in denial, causing Seteth quirk an eyebrow.

Byleth huffed under his breath in irritation. Is this man just teasing him or is he genuinely oblivious?? “I want you to kiss me.” Now that it was out in the open, would the older man finally get the hint? Although this relationship was new to the ex-mercenary, he wanted to experience intimacy just like any normal person. And yes, technically Seteth could use the argument that they have an eternity to learn about each other, but Byleth didn’t want to wait that long.

“Tha...That’s—“ Seteth stuttered, his eyes shifting across the room to try and look at anything but Byleth’s pouty expression and the way how his lips puckered. Goddess he would be the death of him...The gentle grip on his knee brought him back to reality and into direct contact with those pleading eyes, his pupils dilated. Agh, he must’ve learned this tactic from Flayn!

“You really enjoy forcing my hand...” Leaning forward, Seteth wrapped his arms around Byleth’s lithe form and plopped the unsuspecting male on his lap. He started kissing along the sides of Byleth’s face, immediately switching to the other cheek when he got close to the corner of his lips. A growl of frustration resounded through his sensitive ears, but before the young professor could protest, Seteth swooped in to quiten him with his lips.

That growl turned into a quiet moan of surprise before he closed his eyes, reciprocating the kiss eagerly. There’s a lot of hisses and apologies in between, but they somehow manage to get on the same wavelength. Seteth was still too hesitant to do anything with his tongue, so for now he hoped that Byleth was satisfied with his feverent open mouth kisses. It takes Byleth a few times to adjust to the press of each kiss, but he was getting the hang of it slowly but surely. See, look what you’ve done Seteth, now he’s practically glued to him not that he’s complaining too much. That pile of work can be taken care of after his partner is satisfied👀.

Everyone hold onto your children because when Uncle Claude comes into town, his presence alone screams red alert procrastination incoming. If he’s there on “official business” everyone in the castle knows to give the man 1 (3 days) day of relaxation because he will skip every meeting and spend time with Dimitri’s kids before you can even ask “where’s Claude???”. If they have boy/girl twins, multiply that relaxation time by 2😂.

His favorite game to play is hide and seek because it gives him an opportunity to snoop around the castle and enjoy the easy to hear giggles whenever he gets too close to their hiding spot. Sometimes, he likes to pretend that they’ve won and that he guesses he’ll have to tell their parents that he couldn’t find them, only for the both of them to pounce on him out of nowhere and strangle his limbs with their mother and father’s hereditary strength. If the pair have a daughter then you can expect for Claude to be her “esteemed guest” at tea parties, he’ll wear a crown and hold onto one of her favorite stuffed animals like his life depends on it.

Byleth loves having Claude around because he stays involved with the children and helps her wind them down just in time for bed. Sometimes he’ll even sit by their bedside and read stories to them while they drift off to sleep. He’s so good with children, despite not having his own yet, that Byleth takes Faculty Training with him by watching his every move intently as a new tactic to spend time with her children. Not knowing this, Claude will think he did something offensive to her kids and be extra extra careful playing with them. When in reality, she’s learning more about what they like to do for fun.

Oh and despite Dimitri’s nagging worries, he likes to sneak the both of them onto his trusty wyvern and fly around the capital a couple of times. Even if he tells them to keep what they did a secret, the minute they see their parents again and re-state everything they did today ruined his plan of secrecy....At least their adoring faces melted Dimitri’s heart enough to grant him a 30 second head start to run. The King of Faerghus killing the former leader of the Alliance??? Noooo.... if anything, Dimitri gets the satisfaction of making the poor man break a sweat.

As the sun waned over the horizon, Ferdinand couldn’t help but let out a sigh—for the tenth time that day—as he dismounted from his horse and put her into the stable. Lorenz, ever the one to kick a person while they’re down, makes it a point to note his lethargic state. 

After all, Ferdinand decided to leave his horse near the shrubbery since trotting in the sand would only make her slower. He wasn’t quite… adjusted to fighting without his horse, but the Professor said this was a perfect opportunity to adapt. However, if the paladin stayed in his lovestruck daydream he would have suffered from a gaping wound from that annoying sniper. Luckily—or possibly unluckily—Lorenz managed to save him in enough time, only to brag about his “heroic feat” as he offered the reins to the nearest stablehand.

“Lorenz. I don’t know how many more times I can show my appreciation.” The ginger-haired male sighed, tossing his locks over his shoulder when he felt sweat beading at the back of his neck. The eccentric male stared at him, flabbergasted by his sudden interruption before quickly gathering his appearance and smirking.

“Fine, fine. We can easily discuss this during dinner as long as you inform your father of my gratuitous deeds.” He said, placing a gloved hand on Ferdinand’s torn sleeve which elicited a hiss from the ginger. The leather crinkled even more at Lorenz’s touch and Ferdinand simply nodded his head in approval before walking away. The Gloucester male’s touch reminded him of the bandages secured on his forearm….and the certain professor who put them there.

“You’re my precious student, Ferdinand. I’m very proud of your growth.” That sincere gaze practically pinning him down, eyes shining like the brightest of jades. Those words permeated his mind, leaving him lighthearted and foolish.

“Ah Goddess…” Ferdinand groaned, clenching his fist in a futile attempt to get rid of any indecent thoughts concerning the male. Even though he has aged over the course of five years, it’s still wrong to harbor these feelings for an instructor. The bouquet in his satchel feeling heavier the more he thought about what he was going to do. 

Despite his anguish, his mind lulled him back to the events at dawn. Ferdinand found himself walking outside of the monastery walls into the forest in an attempt to relax. He leaned against a lone oak tree, grunting and hissing at his failed attempts to re-wrap his arm entirely. The wound made the surrounding skin of his arm flush red, as though even it was furious at his defeat. 

No matter how many damned times he attempted to wrap the bloodied gauze around his shoulder blade, the dirtied gauze would unravel, spiraling limply down his arm. Each time, his frustrations grew higher and higher.

The future Prime Minister of Adrestria is incapable of attending to his own wounds? He will appear weak in the eyes of the people, let alone Edelgard and Hubert. Ferdinand could already see their disapproving stares haunting him, causing a shiver to run down his spine. He already had a long list of things to improve on...

Without warning, a black-gloved hand appeared out of his peripheral vision, waking him from his thoughts. The male to instinctively reach for his discarded lance, hand trembling from the dull ache in his forearm.

“It’s me.” The voice whispered, barely reaching his ears. It did, however, succeed in lowering Ferdinand’s guard as he turned to face the person.

“P-Professor!! Goddess, you need to speak up before you approach someone.” Long locks of ginger flowed forward as the male slumped forward, resting on his bent knees. The male let out a cough in an effort to correct his appearance, standing tall to face his Professor. 

He was getting better at this, eventually, he would be able to make direct eye contact with the male. After months of constantly looking away from that stoic gaze of his, this was an improvement.

“You’re hurt, Ferdinand.” Yes, the heir was quite aware of the blood soaking his sleeve. He was not prepared, however, for the older man to reach forward and delicately hold onto his arm to pull him closer. 

Byleth leaned forward, too close for Ferdinand’s comfort, as he reached into his leather pouch. Brandishing his hunting knife, the green-haired male sliced through the already ruined fabric with ease and hastily reached for his canteen.

“Professor, you don’t need to assist me with this. I can take care of it....” He makes an attempt to pull away from his instructor, only to look up and expressive eyes practically piercing his soul. His facial expression didn’t change besides the slightest furrow of his brows, an expression that Ferdinand connected to worry.

“We can’t let it get infected, Ferdinand. Besides, I couldn’t watch you for another moment make a feeble attempt to heal yourself. You could have even asked Marianne to help you.” Byleth lectured, pouring the water over his arm and lightly brushing the clean cloth across his skin.

Ah yes, the same demure girl that he insulted a few weeks ago. The chances of him dragging himself out of his self-pity to ask her for help were...slim. He wanted, no...needed to improve himself and try to understand her perspective before attempting to talk to her again.

Soon, the dark brown that left a thin layer over his arm was absorbed into the once pristine fabric. Ferdinand made a mental note to buy him a new one when he gets the chance. His thoughts keep him from being hyper-aware of the gentle drags of Byleth’s calloused fingers along his arm and the back of his hand.

“I’m going to heal you now. If it hurts too much, just clench my hand.” A shudder practically shot through him when Byleth suddenly intertwined their fingers, his shoulders lax as he hovers his free hand over the wound. A refreshing warmth flooded through his veins, causing the young man to release a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. 

He could only watch in dumbfounded silence as Byleth’s worried features morphed into the slightest quirk of his lips when the wound fully closed. An angry red mark in its wake that still sent tendrils of electricity down his arm. 

The butterflies in his stomach turned into a swarm when Byleth leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the crevice of his shoulder. The touch was highly inappropriate but given the sigh of relief that reached his ears, he immediately buried his feelings. For once, his mind could care less about the consequences of someone seeing the two of them.

Ferdinand looked down at his free hand, debating if he should act or not. The ever-pressing thought to card his fingers through those verdant green locks tempting him. 

Before he could act on those thoughts, Byleth straightened his back and let out an unceremonious cough. His eyes shifting to the right and his hand lightly gripping Ferdinand’s. When the heir let out a questioning hum, head cocked to the side in curiosity. He couldn’t help but notice how pensive the man looked now if only he could understand what was going through his mind…

“Ferdinand… You are very precious to me. It would hurt me dearly if we lost you because of your pride.” Long locks of ginger jolted about as Ferdinand lifted his head to stare at the male in awe. No, he mustn’t get his hopes up. There’s no way that Byleth could ever see him in that light...

“It would hurt me to lose the person I love the most...I don’t think I can go through that again.” How can he…how can he be so straightforward with his feelings? If this were to take place five years ago, the male would’ve simply brushed aside Byleth’s words as a caring professor...but now?

What was he supposed to make of these words that were thrown so haphazardly? How was he supposed to act? What was he supposed to say in return? Should he even say anything?

Ferdinand tried—and failed—to calm his racing heartbeat, his palms getting sweaty as the silence grew between the two of them. Breathe…breathe...

“So please… try to be more careful with yourself.” He felt Byleth’s gloved hand begin to slip free from his own and a wave of panic snapped him into action. 

With both hands, he held onto Byleth’s wrist in a feeble attempt to keep him still. Despite his daring act, he still couldn’t quite convey the words he wanted to say. 

“P-Please give me a moment to respond before you walk away.” Face heavily flushed, Ferdinand released his wrist to reach into his satchel for the—hopefully not squished—flowers. 

“I...I’ve noticed your interest in gardening and I got these in an effort to tell you how I’ve felt… if you’ll accept them.” Entirely out of his element, Ferdinand could help but feel as though he was stumbling with his words. He was hoping—more like praying—that the symbolism behind these flowers got across to the man. It was hard enough to do this already…

“Irises…” Byleth whispered, gingerly taking the bouquet from his hands and staring at them intently. For a while, he didn’t say anything and each minute that went by was another dagger of disappointment digging into him.

“W-Well?” He asked, trying to keep his voice steady. With his more than fragile ego on the line, his desperation was quite evident. 

“Thank you, Ferdinand. My father placed these on my mother’s grave before…” The silent understanding between them lasted for a moment, Byleth reminiscing over visiting his mother’s grave. For Ferdinand, he remembered how much of an excellent teacher he was which explains Byleth’s expertise. The young heir definitely owes a lot to the knight.

“I do think these would look better on you.” Pinching a fallen bud with his fingers, Byleth reaches up and places the flower in Ferdinand’s scalp. Byleth’s hand rested against the top of his head for a moment longer, dragging his fingers through those long tresses of hair. It took all of Ferdinand’s willpower not to lean into his cool touch.

Drunk with emotion, he reached towards the bouquet of flowers to carefully take a bud and brush it into Byleth’s tresses. This undying sense of elation that finally, finally, he can act on his feelings pushed a simple “I love you too” out of him before he even realized it. Although he was startled by his own words, Byleth wouldn’t let him shrink away. They both came this far with laying down their guards, it would be a cruel punishment to rebuild those walls all over again.

Ferdinand let out a short gasp when Byleth leaned into his personal space again, it was a natural reflex of his to close his eyes. A pair of soft, pliant lips brushed hesitantly against his cheekbone before Ferdinand felt Byleth’s strong arms pull him into his lap for a hug. All this affection send the ginger-haired male into a lovestruck frenzy that almost made him forget his last name and all of his future responsibilities, almost.

He caught the end of Byleth’s airy chuckle, as though he was mocking him for being so moved by the slightest of affection. Not wanting to be beaten, the male pulled away from their embrace to press a hesitant kiss atop the pale man’s face. Internally, he cheered when he noticed the flush growing on his face—even reaching the tips of his ears. Now, they were matching in levels of embarrassment. With each act of affection from the Professor, Ferdinand was sure to return the gesture tenfold!

After all, to him, actions speak louder than any cherished words. He would rather show his affections towards Byleth in moments of relaxation, where they can bask in their newfound love. 

A new feeling of pride swelled in his chest as Byleth carded his fingers through his hair again. Not only would he fight to save the people of Adrestria from Edelgard’s cruel reign, but he would fight for a future where the two of them can live out the rest of their days in peace, holding onto each other just like this.