Chapter Text
It was no secret that Linhardt could be found sleeping in odd spots at any hour of the day. Bushes, trees, sprawled out on the ground, in a chair, under a table — if it was an easy location for him to crawl into and was out of sight, it was normal for him to sleep there.
His penchant for sleeping in bushes was giving him an infamous reputation among the school’s romantically inclined population. It wasn’t a normal day without someone stepping on him, yelling at him, or even kicking him. He was sure it was a mood killer to stumble onto a limp body, but that wasn’t an excuse to be rude. People could learn a lot from Sylvain. Sylvain was always courteous to not step on innocent napping people. Sylvain was even polite enough to greet him with a wink and a nod these days.
It was becoming a problem for Linhardt, in truth. If he slept out in the open, that meant that any number of nagging Edelgards or stuck-up Ferdinads or Seteths could find him. If he hid away for his naps instead, he risked being stepped on at best and stabbed at worst.
Being stepped on was common, but being stabbed was a new low. Said stabbing incident was done by none other than Felix. Five minutes ago.
“This is your own fault for sleeping in the training grounds,” Felix snapped at him, tugging a bandage around his arm far tighter than necessary.
“Where else was I supposed to sleep? The professor said I could either run laps or come to the training grounds.” He yawned. “Forgive me for assuming that anyone hacking away at dummies would have enough skill to not stab me.”
“Don’t pin this on me.”
“Why would I pin this on you? You already pinned me with your blade — I’d say there’s been more than enough pinning for one evening.”
“This is hardly a scratch.” Felix tapped at the now-wrapped wound. It had been bleeding far too much. He preferred all of his blood in his body. Like a reasonable person.
“Are you finished?” When Felix first stabbed him and he caught sight of red, he had screwed his eyes shut. There wasn’t any pressing reason to open his eyes again, but the option would be nice.
“Yeah, yeah. If you’re going to squat in a bush, do it somewhere else next time.”
“I certainly won’t be sleeping here ag—” Upon opening his eyes, he was treated to the sight of Felix’s bloody hands and the red smear on his bandage. “Ech, blood.” A wave of dizziness had him slamming his eyes shut again as he swayed.
“Pathetic.”
Instead of replying with something witty — figuring out a witty reply sounded exhausting — he just slumped to the side. Felix’s body was between him and the ground. Much softer and warmer than the alternative.
“Hey! Get off me! Don’t tell me you fainted. It’s just blood.”
He didn’t faint, but he was tired and didn’t particularly feel like opening his eyes anymore (or witnessing the red mess). He expected Felix to dump him on the ground and storm off in a huff. Instead he was roughly repositioned against Felix’s bony shoulder as the wannabe-swordsman grumbled under his breath.
Curious. Felix wasn’t going to abandon him in pursuit of romancing his blade? Curious indeed. It seemed he misjudged the prickly student. All in all, Felix didn’t make a horrible pillow. Felix didn’t make a great pillow either, but there were worse people to sleep with.
“Oh Felix~!” Ah, now he understood.
“Shut up!” Felix hissed. “Go bother someone else. I’m busy.”
Skipping steps halted abruptly. “Wow, is the world ending? Are you taking a break? Who are you and what did you do to Felix?” Sylvain’s voice was more stabbing than Felix’s sword had been. Pretending to faint had been a stupid idea now that it meant he had to deal with bickering. “Wait, is that Linhardt?”
“Yeah, and he’s napping. So shut up and go away.”
“Uh… why’s he bleeding?”
“He isn’t. Are you blind, or are you just ignoring the bandage for the sake of being annoying?”
“Okay, why was he bleeding…?”
“I don’t answer to you. Now shut up before you wake him up. He, uh, fainted.”
“…Shouldn’t you take him to Manuela?”
“No.”
“Riiight. I'm just gonna… go.” After an awkward beat of silence, Sylvain’s steps padded away. Other than Felix’s aggravated sigh, silence returned and all was right in the world.
“Wish it was always that easy,” Felix muttered.
A crash and a muffled curse sounded from nearby. Felix quietly groaned a second time. “Damned boar.” With a rough tug, Felix dragged them both back into the spot Linhardt had originally been napping in — a nice, homely bush. It seemed Felix didn’t care to deal with Dimitri at the moment. Relatable, Linhardt didn’t want to deal with people either. The nap-spot was meant for one person, not two, so it was a squeeze to hide them both.
Now back in his nap spot, Linhardt opted for the path of least resistance. What good was laying in his nap spot if he didn’t spend his time napping? Never mind the fact that he and Felix were basically spooning. If Felix wanted to hide from the Prince of Faerghus, far be it from Linhardt to object to a warm body.
When he woke with the setting sun, Felix was still curled up around him, having fallen asleep as well. All was as it should be: nap-spots were meant for naps, after all. Judging by the dark circles under Felix’s eyes, clearly the nap was much needed.
After his incident with Felix, it occurred to Linhardt that napping with a partner had many benefits. With someone else in the mix, he was much less likely to be stepped on or experience any other unfortunate accident. Most importantly, he theorized that he wouldn’t be bothered if someone else was napping with him. Seeing Linhardt nap was normal. Everyone saw him as fair game to wake up considering his fellow students were rude and rudely awake and rudely chipper about being awake all the time. Some of them even hunted him down with the only purpose of tearing him away from his dreamland. If he napped with someone, though…
He opted to test his theory. The opportunity came within a day.
In class, his desk-partner for the day was struggling to stay awake. Unlike him, no one ever gave Flayn flak for falling asleep during class. However, if he was tangled with her when they fell asleep, then waking him would be as good as waking poor innocent Flayn.
“You’ll get a crick in your neck,” he whispered to Flayn as her head slowly lowered towards the desk. “Here, use my shoulder.”
“Mmm?” She struggled to blink at him. After a moment of struggling with gravity, her head plopped against his shoulder. Perfect.
Within five minutes, the two of them were using each other as a pillow. This way of sleeping was less subtle than some of his other methods, yet no one was calling at him to ‘pay attention’. Sure enough, he managed to fall asleep without interruption. When the bell rang throughout the monastery signaling the passing of an hour and end of class, Flayn bolted upright and woke him in the process. He’d never managed to sleep through all of class before, not without someone forcing him awake.
…This idea had great potential.
“You look stressed,” Linhardt opened with, plopping down beside Dorothea in the open courtyard.
“Do I, now? That’s not a very polite thing to tell a lady.”
“Since when have I been polite?” Dorothea had seemed like she would be a fussy friend to deal with, but she was quickly becoming one of his favorite people. Though she was confused by how often he slept, she didn’t judge him for his habits like literally everyone else in his life. “You look like something’s eating away at you. If that’s impolite to point out, then you’re free to stew in whatever is bothering you and we’ll both pretend I didn’t say anything.”
“It’s nothing, you know how I can be sometimes…”
His eyes tracked across the courtyard. So far the coast was clear, but if he wasn’t careful, one of his nagging classmates was bound to see him. “If you let me sleep on you, you can vent at me.”
Dorothea just stared at him for a moment, so he yawned for emphasis. Then she began laughing at him. “I can’t count how many men have propositioned me to sleep with them, but you’re the first to ask to sleep on me.”
He shrugged. “You can sleep on my back if you want. A nap would do you well.”
“Everything’s always solved by naps for you, isn’t it.” Though exasperated, she sounded fond. It was a nice change of pace from how everyone else always talked about his napping habit. “Go on, lay down.” She patted her lap.
“Don’t mind if I do. Now go on, tell me what’s twisting you in a knot. Fair warning, I might not stay awake through the whole story.”
“I’ll make it interesting, then.” Dorothea began telling him about some man who scorned her recently. Her low self-esteem still baffled him. Not like he could do anything to fix her self image, though. His ‘advice’ never worked for her. He didn’t really get why it was so hard to just not care about how others viewed her. It would be hypocritical to judge her for that when she didn’t judge him for his sleep habits, so he let it be.
He was just beginning to drift off to sleep when a new voice interrupted Dorothea. It was the last voice he wanted to hear.
“Dorothea, have you seen—ah. Linhardt. I’ve been looking for—”
“Shhhh.” Dorothea shushed the future emperor of Adrestia all for his sake. Yeah, she was a pretty good friend. She patted his head. “He’s taking a rest.”
Though his eyes were shut, he could imagine the way Edelgard’s face must be scrunching up. “He’s just being lazy.” Her voice was noticeably quieter now.
“Oh, do leave him alone, Edie. He’s tired, not lazy. Lazy people lounge, they don’t nap.”
There was a long pause. “You two aren’t courting.” How interesting. Was that jealousy in Edelgard’s tone? “You shouldn’t let him use your lap like that.” Oh, that was jealousy.
Dorothea giggled, noticing Edelgard’s jealousy more clearly than he ever could. “We’re just friends, Edie. Why, my lap is open to all of my good friends! Including you.” Dorothea winked. His eyes were closed and he didn’t see it, but she definitely just winked at Edelgard.
“I—I don’t see how that’s proper!” He had to roll over slightly to hide the curve of his lips. It must be Dorothea’s influence, but he was dying to hear this drama play out.
“Proper? Why wouldn’t it be proper?” Dorothea crooned with faux innocence. “Edie, just what kind of proposition are you imagining?”
The Adrestian Princess stuttered out a few nonsensical syllables before opting for a hasty retreat. Dorothea’s body shook with silent laughter.
“Oh Lin, we must do this more often,” she whispered down at him, petting his hair.
“I couldn’t agree more,” he replied. Edelgard wouldn’t be dragging him off to nag at him so long as he was with Dorothea. And apparently he was making the princess jealous. What a convenient win-win for them both.
The next time he napped on Dorothea, she had him rest on her breasts. It was a win for both of them. He got a great pillow and Dorothea got to watch Edelgard explode.
“I said I don’t need to go to bed!”
“I mean, you’re going to have to go to bed eventually…”
“I will go to bed when I am tired, Claude. If anyone needs to be put to bed like a child, it is you!”
“Yeesh, forgive a house leader for trying to look out for his young classmate. Tell you what: if you put me to bed, I’ll let you gloat all you want. But then you need to go to bed too. Otherwise you’ll be cwanky for cwass tomorrow, awww.”
“I’ll put you to bed, alright. Six feet under the ground!”
BAM!
“Bah! It’s very immature to throw books! That could have hit me…”
“It was supposed to hit you.”
“Guess you’re already cranky. Am I going to have to carry you? Does baby need to be carried to bed? I’ll—YOW! You just bit me!”
“Try picking me up again and I’ll light you on fire.”
“Fine, fine. I tried my best. Don’t come crying to me tomorrow when you get in trouble for taking another kiddo-nap during Teach’s lecture.”
A final screech, the patter of running, and the slamming of the library doors signaled an end to the world’s most irritating wake-up alarm. Yawning, Linhardt rolled out from his nap-spot under the table. It was around time for him to wake up anyways, he supposed. Would have been nice to sleep for another hour or two, though…
“Stupid Claude.” The library door was yanked back open and in strode Lysithea once more. So much for having the library all to himself. He’d planned to do some research tonight, but with Lysithea all alone in this private environment, he had an opportunity to cease.
“I wonder: is your fatigue related to having two crests?”
“EEK!” Screeching again (ow), Lysithea whirled on him. Magic danced at her fingertips. Unlike Claude, the threat of some magical tickling wasn’t enough to deter him from the knowledge he sought.
“Were there anyone else in the library, I would recommend that you don’t go squealing loud enough to burst eardrums. But, well, luckily for you, it’s just us.”
“L-Linhardt! Ugh, don’t you dare sneak up on me like that ever again!”
He shrugged. “I didn’t sneak anywhere. Don’t blame me. You’re the one who was too distracted to notice me.”
Lysithea stomped towards her desk as she grumbled under her breath. Rude. “I’m busy, go bother someone else.”
“Oh yes… someone else. Hm. Nope, I don’t think anyone else is awake for me to bother. Which means there’s no one to hear us chat.” Settling down at her desk, he popped open his crest journal. “So which of your crests are natural, and which was added after your birth? The Ordelia family line is not known for bearing any crests. Or were they both implanted?”
“Sh-shut up!” Lysithea hissed, urgent and fearful now instead of irritated like earlier. Even though it was obvious that they were alone, her eyes darted around the library. What, did she think someone was hiding under the desks in hopes of learning her secrets? That was ridiculous. Only he, Claude, or Cyril ever hid or napped in the library. Claude was already gone and Cyril wouldn’t have a clue what they were discussing even if the boy overheard.
“Shutting up would mean I can’t ask you any questions, and that’s unacceptable. I have a theory about the correlation between having a second crest and your personal weak constitution. At what age did you have your second crest implanted? Were you a healthy child before the procedure? Are there any other chances you noticed in your body? One would think having a second crest would bolster the body’s health and strength, but that clearly isn’t the case for you.”
Lysithea was ignoring him. Hm. That wouldn’t do. She glared down at her open text book, obviously not actually reading anything. Her unwillingness to be open about such a massive potential breakthrough in the field of Crestology was too tedious some days.
Sighing, he slumped his chin on his palm and began tapping his fingers along the table. Lysithea might dodge most of his questions, sure, but it was easy to get her attention. “Perhaps having a second crest has stunted your growth and delayed the onset of puberty. Despite being roughly the same age as Petra, you have yet to develop nearly as m—urk.” He got her attention in the form of her slamming a book across his fingers. “Th-that was uncalled for.”
“Just go away,” she muttered. “I’m not in the mood.” Hanging her head, her white hair hung as a sheet in front of her ringed eyes. Yep, she was tired alright. Claude hadn’t been wrong earlier about a tired Lysithea being cranky. When she passed that level of tiredness into exhaustion, however, she got quiet just like this.
Clucking his tongue, he reluctantly backed off. Linhardt was many things, but he didn’t enjoy being a hypocrite. Sleep was sacred and exhaustion was to be respected. As much as he itched to learn more about Lysithea’s double crests, he was keeping her awake with his prodding.
“Alright.” Her confused stare bored into him, but eventually she bobbed her head back down to her book. “That can’t be comfortable.”
Jerking her head back upright, she glared at him. “What’s not comfortable? I’m plenty comfortable.”
He shrugged. “Do you really spend all your time studying in these hardwood chairs? Sounds like a pain.”
“There aren’t any other chairs to use, so yes…”
Scoffing, he shook his head. “Narrow-minded thinking. Forget using a chair.” He unceremoniously slipped under the desk, rolling into his pile of blankets.
“I fail to see how laying on the hardwood floor is any more comfortable.”
“Correct, that sounds awful.” With a loud yawn, he snuggled into his pile. His silence drew Lysithea’s curiosity like a fish to a worm. Peeking down at him, her eyes went wide as she took in his mini pillow palace. “This is how you study in style.” She hesitated, so he continued. “Plus, almost no one ever thinks to look under a table. I never get interrupted down here.”
Now he had her. “W-well… I’m sure that’s… very convenient.”
“You can join, you know. There’s more than enough blankets for us to share.”
“I don’t need that! I’m fine up here, hmph!” As she sat back upright, he began counting in his head. One… two… three…
Lysithea began to fidget.
Four… five… six…
One of the floorboards creaked, as old buildings are known to do. Lysithea squeaked and flinched.
Seven… eight… nine…
“F-fine!” Lysithea bolted out of her chair and onto the floor, diving towards his blanket pile. “But you aren’t allowed to bother me!”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Yawn. “My dreams are too boring for that.”
Seventeen… eighteen… nineteen…
Lysithea flopped face-first into her book, limp as a doll. Sighing, he adjusted her so she was laying on a pillow instead. She didn’t even bring a light under the table to read with, who was she trying to fool? Likely herself, he figured.
Using a touch of faith magic to conjure his own nightlight, he began reading whatever book he had with him in his blanket pile. Just as he was getting engrossed in the topic of deep-sea fishing studies, something touched him. Turning from the pages of his book, he watched as Lysithea wiggled closer to him in her sleep. Before he knew it, she was hugging his waist. Shrugging, he pulled her head into his lap and left it at that. He used other people as pillows plenty. It was only fair that he give back too. After a bit he leaned back and laid down. As he predicted, Lysithea oozed against him. Turned out she was a cuddler, who knew?
Nearly silent footsteps crept through the library. If it weren’t for the fact that he recognized them, he would have woken Lysithea. As it was, he just increased the light of his reading light slightly. The footsteps paused at Lysithea’s seat. “Huh…?”
“Turn off the lamp,” he softly called out to Claude. There was no point in letting it burn lamp oil all night long. Lysithea hadn’t thought to turn it off or bring it with her, and Linhardt couldn’t be bothered to get up and turn it off himself.
With a quiet click, the light from outside the table faded. Pulling back the chair, Claude peered under the table with his own little candle to light the way. “Morning, Linhardt.” It was past midnight, but Claude always said that morning was ‘when a person woke up’. “Did Lysithea run off again? Spooked by the ghosties?” He tutted. “You’d think she’d learn one of these days.” After a pause, Claude continued in that ‘I’m totally a secret softy’ tone of his. “Did you hear where she ran off to? She forgets she can make her own light when she panics.” Every once in a while Lysithea got scared enough that she would blindly run off. Linhardt wasn’t heartless, but the first time it happened he hadn’t realized that the girl was legitimately scared. He’d just figured she wanted a dark place to take a nap. In truth, he still felt a bit bad that he didn’t recognize the quiet sound of her crying. Lucky her, Claude was secretly a fretter and managed to both find her and calm her down.
“You can go to bed.” He nodded at Lysithea, who was snuggled up to his side.
“Wh—you convinced her to go to sleep? Studying all that faith magic paid off, you performed a miracle. Got enough blankets down there?” Claude brandished the blanket belonging to ““Tomas””, aka the excuse Claude fed Lysithea about the mysterious blanket that mysteriously materialized around her shoulders every time she fell asleep in the library.
“Toss it here.” Shutting his book, he yawned and dismissed his nightlight. Clearly he hadn’t slept long enough, he was still tired.
“Night.” Claude padded away, notably not heading for the door. How the Golden Deer leader managed to stay awake night and day — remaining chipper throughout both — was a mystery Linhardt was dying to learn. Linhardt didn’t have half the duties Claude did and yet he was constantly exhausted just by existing. One of these days he would figure Claude out.
Not today, though. Today was a day for napping.
His nap lasted longer than he intended. His good deed for the night was rewarded hours later when Lysithea woke up and screeched in his ear about being late to class. The girl must have needed the extra sleep if she slept so long (and him too), so he didn’t see the issue. Oh well.