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(AU) Arranged
[Felix had been against this from the start, but no amount of arguing or fighting would change Rodrigue's mind. He had been at his marriageable age for years now, every candidate leaving the Fraldarius estate in tears whenever his father had offered him up for his Crest and family name. And for years he had narrowly avoided such a suffocating prison.
Felix never wanted to marry a woman, and if he had it his way? He never wanted to marry at all. He didn't have a paternal instinct, nor did he want to saddle any offspring of his with a mountain of responsibilities and a fate that they cannot escape. It was no way to live, and he had plenty of experience to be steady and stalwart against his father's wishes. Their relationship had always been strained since Glenn died, it grew strained still when Felix refused to do his noble duty.
Apparently marriage was a duty.
It had been arranged without his consent, and it was Rodrigue's last attempt to do something for the Fraldarius name. So his son could leave some kind of legacy.
Bah.
Legacies were for people who cared enough.
...
Now here he was, agitated and being ushered towards one of the sitting rooms of the estate. One of the house servants frowning and trying to fix his hair, whispering to him that he should have wore something nice to meet his betrothed. Felix didn't plan to linger after forcing a greeting to this stranger in his home. No, he planned to go hunting right after, so he was in his leathers and tunic.
He had to shoo well-meaning hands away, buttoning the sleeves to his shirt on his own. He was a man grown and hated all the fuss.
He was going to be meeting a man. Instead of shunning him for his preferences, his father grew creative. Felix supposed he could be thankful for that, but he held too much anger in him to be happy about the decision. He didn't even remember the name of the man he was supposed to meet. An Almyran.]
Would you stop touching me!
[He hissed at prying hands, tucking his tunic into his trousers and smoothing down any wrinkles. Felix still cut a fine and intimidating figure. He may not have grown tall and sturdy like Dimitri, nor tall and stalwart like Sylvain. Instead Felix was made for speed, with an impressive core strength and a trim build. 'Handsome' could be a word to describe him, yet beautiful fit him far better - though he would hate to hear anyone say so.
Frowning at the door, he could hear the muffled sounds of his father entertaining their guest. Felix was told, in no uncertain terms, that he was not to toss this one aside. So he rebelled how he could, in his white tunic and leather trousers. His belt hung loose across slim hips, with his sword sheathed and nestled against his side. It was passable, but definitely not the outfit Rodrigue had laid out for him.
With his palm on the door, he let out a slow breath.
Stoic, shoulders squared back and looking strong, he opens the door and took long strides inside the room.
It was a lovely room, with a stone fireplace and a roaring fire casting a warm and comfortable glow. The furniture was classic in design, creams and golds. He could smell the tea that had been brewed, with a platter of sweets and a plate of sandwiches. It all really was quite lovely, but nothing felt better than the sigh he heard, heaved from his long suffering father. If he wasn't so intent on keeping the passive scowl, he would have smirked.
Felix also made a point not to look at the man he was supposed to meet. Whether it was nerves or the fact he didn't know how to approach this situation, but he instead crossed his arms over his chest, leaning a hip against the nearest window. His sharp stare focusing on the impressive gardens that were so meticulously maintained by their staff.]
I'm here.
[Felix's tone was flat, whereas Rodrigue's was apologetic. He could hear the man getting to his feet, introducing his son to the other, whilst also approaching him.
"I will leave you two to get to know one another," came the friendly tone, yet Felix could hear the terseness in the man's tone. The grip Rodrigue put on his shoulder wasn't painful, but firm as he leaned in to whisper a word of warning to his son.
"Please. Behave." Was all Felix received, before Rodrigue left the room and shut the door behind him.
The absence of the man caused Felix's shoulders to relax, but not by much. Instead he scowled in a sour way, glaring at a poor rose bush, fully in bloom. Probably the last bloom of the season, as the weather was starting to grow cold. Their warmer seasons never seemed to last long, before the chill and the snow settled.
He was being rude, he knew he was.
So... finally he turned to look at his betrothed, fingers subtly curling into his sleeves as he does.
Now, what manner of man was he to marry.]
Felix never wanted to marry a woman, and if he had it his way? He never wanted to marry at all. He didn't have a paternal instinct, nor did he want to saddle any offspring of his with a mountain of responsibilities and a fate that they cannot escape. It was no way to live, and he had plenty of experience to be steady and stalwart against his father's wishes. Their relationship had always been strained since Glenn died, it grew strained still when Felix refused to do his noble duty.
Apparently marriage was a duty.
It had been arranged without his consent, and it was Rodrigue's last attempt to do something for the Fraldarius name. So his son could leave some kind of legacy.
Bah.
Legacies were for people who cared enough.
...
Now here he was, agitated and being ushered towards one of the sitting rooms of the estate. One of the house servants frowning and trying to fix his hair, whispering to him that he should have wore something nice to meet his betrothed. Felix didn't plan to linger after forcing a greeting to this stranger in his home. No, he planned to go hunting right after, so he was in his leathers and tunic.
He had to shoo well-meaning hands away, buttoning the sleeves to his shirt on his own. He was a man grown and hated all the fuss.
He was going to be meeting a man. Instead of shunning him for his preferences, his father grew creative. Felix supposed he could be thankful for that, but he held too much anger in him to be happy about the decision. He didn't even remember the name of the man he was supposed to meet. An Almyran.]
Would you stop touching me!
[He hissed at prying hands, tucking his tunic into his trousers and smoothing down any wrinkles. Felix still cut a fine and intimidating figure. He may not have grown tall and sturdy like Dimitri, nor tall and stalwart like Sylvain. Instead Felix was made for speed, with an impressive core strength and a trim build. 'Handsome' could be a word to describe him, yet beautiful fit him far better - though he would hate to hear anyone say so.
Frowning at the door, he could hear the muffled sounds of his father entertaining their guest. Felix was told, in no uncertain terms, that he was not to toss this one aside. So he rebelled how he could, in his white tunic and leather trousers. His belt hung loose across slim hips, with his sword sheathed and nestled against his side. It was passable, but definitely not the outfit Rodrigue had laid out for him.
With his palm on the door, he let out a slow breath.
Stoic, shoulders squared back and looking strong, he opens the door and took long strides inside the room.
It was a lovely room, with a stone fireplace and a roaring fire casting a warm and comfortable glow. The furniture was classic in design, creams and golds. He could smell the tea that had been brewed, with a platter of sweets and a plate of sandwiches. It all really was quite lovely, but nothing felt better than the sigh he heard, heaved from his long suffering father. If he wasn't so intent on keeping the passive scowl, he would have smirked.
Felix also made a point not to look at the man he was supposed to meet. Whether it was nerves or the fact he didn't know how to approach this situation, but he instead crossed his arms over his chest, leaning a hip against the nearest window. His sharp stare focusing on the impressive gardens that were so meticulously maintained by their staff.]
I'm here.
[Felix's tone was flat, whereas Rodrigue's was apologetic. He could hear the man getting to his feet, introducing his son to the other, whilst also approaching him.
"I will leave you two to get to know one another," came the friendly tone, yet Felix could hear the terseness in the man's tone. The grip Rodrigue put on his shoulder wasn't painful, but firm as he leaned in to whisper a word of warning to his son.
"Please. Behave." Was all Felix received, before Rodrigue left the room and shut the door behind him.
The absence of the man caused Felix's shoulders to relax, but not by much. Instead he scowled in a sour way, glaring at a poor rose bush, fully in bloom. Probably the last bloom of the season, as the weather was starting to grow cold. Their warmer seasons never seemed to last long, before the chill and the snow settled.
He was being rude, he knew he was.
So... finally he turned to look at his betrothed, fingers subtly curling into his sleeves as he does.
Now, what manner of man was he to marry.]
no subject
I would appreciate the company. I usually train alone, which doesn't bother me. I do most things alone. But it has been a long time since I've seen a skilled archer.
[Felix had no patience for bows, he'd rather the quick and sharp cuts of his blade.]
I am proficient with both blade and reason. [He explains after another sip of his tea.]
...I would like that. [At the offer, a brief smile lingering on his lips as he glanced back over to the other man.
...
He wasn't so bad, really.]
Afraid? No. They just embarrass me. Our.. dynamic is unique. [His tone dry, so he takes another bite of his sandwich.]
no subject
[Khalid leaned in a bit closer without realizing it. He didn't know even a basic spell, and magic was a rarity in Almyra. How amazing would it be if he could learn some while he was in Fodlan? Even if only the smallest amount.]
You have to show me when we train together. Back home, almost nobody casts spells.
[And, speaking of friends and home.
What would Felix and the others think when there was nobody from Khalid's family present at any festivities, or the wedding itself? That felt like an oversight on his brother's part.
Until a horrible thought struck, leaving him feeling suddenly ill. Khalid placed his teacup on the table and glanced a bit to the side. A muscle in his jaw twitched when he clenched his teeth together tightly.
What if his brother was planning to attend the wedding? If he did, many people would naturally accompany the king for the journey, including some of his other brothers, and plenty of extended family. Most would be thrilled to have that much family attend their wedding. Khalid felt dread tighten around his chest like a vice.
Felix spoke fondly of his friends and his king- even his father, with whom he had difficulties, clearly cared about him. Khalid's living family despised him, had always made their feelings plain, and seemed to take turns tormenting him. And since the king had a vested interest in the wedding between him and Felix, he would have a great excuse to play politics and have one last chance to gloat and humiliate his hated younger brother.
To make matters worse, he would almost certainly lose face among the nobles of Faerghus before he even had a chance to know any of them.]
...Sorry. Felt a little dizzy all of a sudden. It was a long journey.
[Funny, how only when he was beginning to relax, he started to truly realize just how alone he was. His father was gone, and Nader wouldn't be around to offer a friendly pep talk if he started floundering. He should have asked Nader to stay for at least the night, but he hadn't been thinking ahead.]
Do you think you could show me where I'll be sleeping?
no subject
[Which was a far cry from the truth of it, but it wasn't a lie either. Ever since his aptitude for reason showed itself, his father and professor had urged him to alter his training. now, after all those years, he was quite the accomplished mortal savant. his spell list was low, but what he had could be devastating.]
I'm stronger with my sword, but the versatility is handy when it comes to ranged fighters. But I can show you.
[He didn't think he would enjoy this meeting as much as he had. Even finishing his little plate of finger food, his tea since drained.
Though he doesn't show it outwardly much, his expression ever aloof, there is concern in the way his hand reaches out to brush a touch to Khalid's shoulder. It was only for a moment, and he draws back quickly enough. Setting down his saucer and cup, he gets to his feet.]
Your room is next to mine, for the time being. A larger bed is being delivered for... after the wedding.
[So they weren't forced to share a room just yet. He figured the man must be tired from his trip, yet those sharp eyes of his hardly missed much. But it wasn't his place to ask any more questions. They had the rest of their lives to get into grit of everything, but he was making a mental note to pay particular attention to his betrothed.
Quietly he offers a hand.]
If you need anything I'll be in the other room.
[He could go hunting another day.]