Archive of Our Own ^beta

The first time Nozel tries smoking, he gets caught.

He’s unlucky like that.

Acier Silva does not usually shout. As the youngest captain in Silver Eagles history, she never had to. Respect and reverence were laid at her feet wherever she went. 

She is also not usually a strict mother. A mother of three well-behaved and mild-tempered children and a fourth on the way, she manages to be both rational and affectionate with no more than a look. The Silva children, mostly Nebra and Solid, know better than to misbehave on her watch. Nozel, on the other hand, never misbehaves.

Until now.

At fourteen, Nozel is unsure of a lot of things. He doesn’t know if any fourteen-year old is really sure of anything, but he feels especially lost. With his father absent more often than not and his mother busy with running the administrative side of her magic squad until she gives birth, no one really has the time for him. More than that, he has to keep an eye on Nebra and Solid most of the day while she rests. 

Kids sure know how to kickstart an existential crisis.

So when he finds Armando’s pack of cigarettes lying around while the man fusses around with a crying Paplo, he sneaks a cigarette into the inner pocket of his robes.

“Shh, querido, Papa is here.” 

He leaves before the healer sees anything and goes to the farthest place he can think of from his mother’s quarters. And that’s how he finds himself coughing half a lung out by the creek between the Silva and Kira residences.

He didn’t quite anticipate the invasion of the acrid fumes into his mouth and nose, forcing its way down his throat forcefully so all he could do was expel it breathlessly. It smells disgusting, exactly as disgusting as the lingering smell on Armando’s clothes. Nozel doesn’t particularly know why he expected otherwise.

He also doesn’t know how Armando tolerates it.

Just as he takes another buff, searching for one reason why people continue smoking even when it tastes and smells like death, he hears the light footsteps of the Steel War Princess approaching.

“Nozel?” She calls out, voice mild and his panic paralyzes him in place, unable to throw the offending stick somewhere his mother can’t see.

“Is that…?” He can pinpoint the exact moment his mother realizes she just caught her eldest son smoking behind a bush.

“Nozel Astor Silva, what on earth are you holding in that hand?!”

Using his full name and her squad captain tone of voice straightens Nozel’s back in less than a second, and like an invisible force tugging him towards his mother’s authority, makes him turn around to face her slowly forming wrath head-on.

Wordlessly, his mother sends a trickle of steel towards the cigarette in his hand, and even when he knows his mother would never hurt him, he flinches.

The steel wraps itself around the cigarette, encasing it in a tiny little ball that keeps shrinking until it disappears into the air.

“I cannot believe you would do something this irresponsible! How did you even come across one of these?!” He doesn’t have it in him to meet her eyes but he knows avoiding it will make matters worse so he faces her with unfamiliar fear.

Acier’s eyes, normally calm and collected, are a stormy shade of amethyst that promises hell to pay if Nozel doesn’t come up with an explanation in less than a minute.

Nozel has never been in such a position, he doesn’t dwell on the irony of how he was caught the very first moment he decided to misbehave. He doesn’t know what explanation his mother wants to hear but he knows he doesn’t have it, so he doesn’t try.

“Who gave you this cigarette, Nozel?” She repeats the question, enunciating every syllable slowly. However, with a hand on her baby bump, she looks a lot less threatening than what she’s aiming for.

“No one.” He answers honestly, voice only a little bit shaky.

He’s not going to tell on Armando, because Nozel is not a snitch, but he thinks the man deserves a bit of a scolding himself after he caught him more than once smoking around a three-year old Paplo.

At least Nozel didn’t smoke around anyone.

“You’re fourteen! You think I’m going to believe you just procured this cigarette out of nowhere?” Honesty was not the way to go, apparently, because his mother is only getting angrier. “You’re supposed to be a role model for your sister and brother! What if they caught you hiding and smoking, huh? Is that the example you want to set?”

He flinches, regret and helpless anger merging together in his chest.

It’s not like he asked to be the oldest.

“-tell me right this instant where you got that cigarette or so help me God, Nozel, I will revoke all your sparring privileges…” Her face is red at this point, he’s never seen her so angry. She’s looking around the silent creek, no doubt looking for a second culprit but Nozel wants to tell her that he doesn’t have friends who could be bad influences. 

Fuegoleon is his only friend and he’s the poster child of integrity and good behavior.

Her eyes land on Nozel once more, an uncharacteristically mean look on her face. “And no Fuegoleon for a month.”

Nozel’s heart plummets.

“What?” He asks weakly.

“You heard me. I’ll talk to his mother and tell her you’re not allowed visitors.”

“Mother!” He pleads, “that’s not fair!”

“I’ll decide what’s fair. Now tell me where you got that cigarette and how long you’ve been sneaking around with this habit.”

“It’s the first time, I promise, I didn’t even like it!” He’s desperate now, he’s not above begging. “Please, mother, I promise I’m telling the truth.”

The anger on her face melts only a little but in its place is suffocating disappointment.

“Go to your room. Your punishment is final.”

He knows a losing battle when he sees one. After all, his mother didn’t get her reputation without warrant. Shoulders slumping, Nozel trudges past her, his heart heavy, and the feeling of being lost intensified.

Nozel once thought he was above sulking. Sulking is for children, it is for Nebra when she doesn’t get to stay out past curfew or for Solid when he’s forced to attend pre-grimoire training with the rest of the royal children his age.

Thus, sulking is not for him.

So when he’s lying down on the sofa with the least amount of grace possible and staring at the ceiling like it had done him a great disservice, he is just gracefully meditating. No one is in his room to judge anyway.

It’s been a week since his unlucky adventure and in respect to his mother’s wishes and his own self-preservation, he hasn’t tried to argue his case again.

His mother is right in any case, smoking is not befitting of a respectable brother. He needs to set an example for his siblings and he can’t do that if he smokes. He doesn’t let his thoughts linger on the unfairness of the entire situation, it’s not befitting of a member of the royal family either, he thinks bitterly.

The heaviness of the punishment doesn’t make things better. 

It’s true that Nozel misses sparring but he doesn’t particularly feel the loss. He does the necessary stretches and practices his moves on a small scale in his room, a feat he knows is no secret because his mother can’t possibly expect him to cut his rigorous training regime off.

However, the absence of Fuegoleon is stifling. 

Nozel has always been a lonely child, his face is not friendly, his attitude is haughty on a good day and downright scathing on bad days and he doesn’t do cordial, he never learned to. Fuegoleon not only knows that, but he counters it daily, so subtly that Nozel doesn’t blink. Where Nozel is explosive, Fuegoleon is soft, and when Nozel is wavering, Fuegoleon is steadfast. 

Nozel may not have noticed where they compliment each other in all the right places when they first met, they were both children who masked their increasing fascination with each other with threats of pushing each other off a cliff. But the more Fuegoleon grew, he grew with him, around him, until their rivalry was nothing but a challenge to be better together.

His mother’s punishment made sense, but being cut off from Fuegoleon was like cutting off his limb.

Ah, one week and he was already so dramatic!

A soft knock on the door startles him straight out of the sofa. He huffs as he narrowly stops himself from face-planting into the carpeted floor before trying to get up and make himself look presentable.

“You okay in there?” Comes his mother’s muffled voice from the other side.

“Fine!” He calls out hurriedly, patting his hair to tame the strands escaping from his braid.

“Can I come in then?” Acier asks patiently.

Nozel sighs, then goes to the door.

“Hello, mother.” He greets her, eyes not meeting hers petulantly. She’s silent for a moment before she touches Nozel’s cheek with her hand, soft as a feather. When he looks at her, she’s smiling lovingly, the familiar crinkle in her eyes present.

“Can I come in?” She asks again, seriously, as if one unsure look on Nozel’s face will be enough for her to respect his wishes and go away for the time being.

But Nozel would never not want to see his mother, so he nods.

She takes his hand and leads him to the sofa, sitting him down before making herself comfortable on the opposite side, facing him.

“I’m not going to ask why you didn’t come down to dinner, Martha saved you some. It’s in the kitchen when you get hungry.”

He was getting tired of keeping a wronged expression on at all times in front of his mother, so he opted out of joining them for dinner to give his face a break. 

“Armando smokes.” She remarks vaguely when he doesn’t say anything, “it turns out he changes his robes whenever he comes to my quarters for my check-up so the smell doesn’t aggravate me. I have a sensitive nose, that’s why I put it out so quickly when I found you.”

He sags into the sofa at the reminder. His mother is unperturbed by his silence.

“I know you were telling the truth. I’m sorry I reacted so harshly.” He turns to her in surprise. Her voice is earnest and her eyes are open.

“I’m sorry too, I won’t do it again.” He promises solemnly, all past grievances with her gone. He can’t be mad at her for too long anyway, he’s never been able to.

“I don’t want you to promise me, Nozel, I want you to promise yourself.” She chastised lightly, placing a hand on his knee. “Smoking is not looked down on because it’s unbecoming or not graceful enough, it’s looked down on because it’s not a good habit to pick up, it could destroy you if you’re not careful.”

Nozel hates that he put that look of worry on his mother’s face so he nods resolutely. 

“I won’t do it again, it tasted awful anyway.” She laughs when he scrunches up his nose at the reminder of such taste.

“Good.” She squeezes his knee comfortingly. “I’m not sure Fuegoleon would like the smell on you.”

His face sours at the mention of his best friend.

“I’m sure it will have gone away by the time the month is over.” He grumbles, unconsciously pouting. His mother laughs again.

“It’s gone away now, don’t worry. Good thing too because Fuegoleon is waiting for you outside.” She has a cunning smile on her face, Nozel blinks.

“What?” He asks dumbly.

“Your punishment may have been too severe, and I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson so it’s rescinded.” She explains, “and Fuegoleon was driving his mother insane as well because he wanted to see you.”

“He…” Nozel starts, bewildered, then it dawns on him. “I can see him?”

His mother nods, her smile blinding. He throws himself at her, careful of her pregnant belly. She laughs melodiously, wrapping her arms around him and Nozel’s chest feels warm.

“I love you any way you are, always remember that.” She whispers into his hair before planting a kiss, he tightens his hold around her.

They stay like that for a second before she takes his shoulders gently and pushes him away. 

“Now go before Fuegoleon barges in here demanding to see you.”

Nozel looks down bashfully, “he’d never barge in, he’s too well-mannered.”

His mother hums fondly, “that’s true, you’re lucky to have him.”

The statement means more than just the current situation and Nozel has to fight down a blush as he gets up to leave before his mother embarrasses him further.

“I’m leaving!” He retorts just as he reaches the door, his mother’s amused laugh following him as he leaves.

Nozel finds that he missed her over the week. He decides that he would never do anything to disappoint her again.

He does not touch a cigarette ever again.

Until.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Nozel doesn’t jump but it’s a close thing. He turns to the sliver of light escaping from the door of his mother’s chambers to find a redheaded silhouette.

He turns back to the elevated view of his mother’s rose garden, inhaling another buff with a shaky grip. He’s careful to blow the smoke outside the window so the smell doesn’t linger even though he knows his mother won’t- can’t - care anymore.

“Do you want me to leave?” Fuegoleon asks as he approaches the window seat, his steps soundless.

Nozel shakes his head.

He feels like he’s floating, like none of his surroundings is real. It was naive to think it was over, to think they were safe. Life wasn’t that easy, not to anyone, especially duty-bound Silvas. 

Unable to force himself to nod appreciatively one more time at a well-intending distant family member, he snuck out of his own mother’s funeral, narrowly escaping with his sanity intact.

Who knew funerals were such a fuss?

Solid arms wrap around him from behind, tethering him to the ground in a way that should be suffocating but is soothing instead. He scoots forward a little to allow his boyfriend space, which Fuegoleon makes use of, situating his back against the wall and pulling Nozel further into his chest.

Nozel takes another buff of smoke, willing the tears pooling at his eyes to go away.

“I didn’t know you smoke.” It’s an innocent remark, not a hint of the expected disapproval in sight. Nozel finds himself relaxing into the hold.

“I only tried it once.” He says, voice despicably hoarse. “Seemed fitting that I try it again.”

Fuegoleon hums in acknowledgment, clasping Nozel’s free hand between his and squeezing it comfortingly.

“Do you like it?”

Nozel doesn’t quite know what it is that undoes him. Maybe it’s the voice, strong and unyielding yet so inexplicably sad, maybe it’s the question, uttered absentmindedly in an attempt to keep the mundane conversation going but maybe it’s the answer to the question, buried deep into Nozel’s chest.

The first sob he lets out is the loudest, a manifestation of his pain that he can show only Fuegoleon and no one else. It’s ugly and loud and he hates himself so much for not keeping it inside but the moment it echoes around his mother’s empty room, his best friend’s arms tighten infinitesimally that he can’t bring himself to regret it.

He lets himself cry.

He cries for his mother, who died saving him and his sister even if she died on her bed. He cries for his father who didn’t have the time for his wife’s funeral. He cries for Nebra, for Solid, he cries for Noelle who won’t get to know the breath of fresh air that was Acier Silva. She won’t get to be tucked into bed and kissed on the forehead by her, she won’t get to bask in her love and warmth and she won’t even know what she’s missing. 

Nozel knows what he’s missing, and it’s making his chest tight and his breath come out in short buffs and the cigarette he’s holding between his index and middle fingers feels incriminating so he drops it on the floor, unable to care about the consequences.

He registers distantly being rocked gently back and forth, much like Martha has been doing to soothe Noelle this past week when she’s fussing. It’s okay , he hears Fuegoleon whisper.

It isn’t, Nozel suspects it never will be.

His mother just died. She just left him alone to fend for himself and three other painfully young and naive children and if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s his . 

Because he was there. He could’ve saved her, if he’d just been strong enough. Hell, he’d trade places with her in a heartbeat if it meant Noelle wouldn’t grow up without parents, because their father might as well not count.

“It’s not, Nozel. It’s not your fault.” The redhead keeps repeating and Nozel realizes he’s been voicing his thoughts out loud. He shakes his head, taking a choked breath.

“It is.”

“Nozel, no. Look at me.” Fuegoleon maneuvers him effortlessly so that his back is to the window, supported by his boyfriend’s leg. Nozel can’t stop crying even if he wants to but Fuegoleon ever so gently takes his face in one hand and makes him look at him.

His eyes hold fire, not unlike his magic, and the conviction there is overwhelmingly unwavering that Nozel finds his heart settling against his will. He stops breathing.

“It’s not your fault. Your mother was a hero, she was attacked when she least expected it and she did everything she could to save you and your sister. And she did. She won that fight even when Vanica didn’t fight fair. But that’s Vanica’s fault, never yours. One day I will help you return the misdeed but until that day, I don’t want to ever hear that thought come out of your mouth and neither would your mother.”

If possible, Nozel cries harder, feeling raw at the admonishment. Fuegoleon crushes him against his chest and he feels infinitely grateful for the warmth of his boyfriend, even if it’s a different warmth than what he longs for. He buries his face in Fuegoleon’s chest, hands holding at him for dear life as he allows his sadness to consume him.

His boyfriend keeps whispering quiet reassurances into his ear, rubbing a hand against his back comfortingly. 

Nozel is not okay. He doesn’t think he will be anytime soon, but with Fuegoleon by his side, he thinks maybe he’d like to try.

“Hey, kid, you got a lighter?” 

Nozel turns swiftly to the source of the voice, scared out of his wits that it’s someone he respects catching him smoking in the alley behind the Wizard King headquarters but it’s just Yami Sukehiro, the recently-appointed Black Bulls squad captain.

“I’m older than you.” Nozel seethes but he fishes out the lighter from his robes anyway, holding it out to the brunet and making sure his unhappy sneer is crystal clear on his face.

Predictably, Yami doesn’t pay his disdain any mind.

He inhales the smoke then leans away from the lighter and Nozel stashes it back, glad that that’s the end of it.

“What’s got a prissy princess like you smoking in alleyways like common folk?”

Nozel bristles but chooses to take a drag of his cigarette instead of deigning him with an answer. He doesn’t really know if Yami recognizes him but he hopes not, because so far, no one knows of his unhealthy habit besides Fuegoleon, and with Nozel so close to promotion, he doesn’t need any invitation for further scrutiny.

“Or you could keep your silence, Silva, that works too. But it’s gonna be awkward because I ain’t leaving this alley until I finish my cigarette too.” Yami informs him nonchalantly, leaning against the wall with indifference. Nozel fidgets in place but refuses to yield. He was here first.

“Why do you need to smoke in an alley? Everyone knows you smoke anyway, it’s not like you’ll be disappointing anyone.” He grumbles crossly, taken aback when Yami fixes him with a piercing look.

“The streets are crowded today, I draw the line at second-hand smoking.” He explains sagely, then looks at Nozel, “I’m not familiar with being disappointing, are you?”

Nozel stiffens, clenching his free hand behind his back where Yami can’t see.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He bites out, ready to throw hands for some reason.

Yami holds his hands up placatingly, “settle down, princess. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just think that you’re old enough to smoke if you want to.”

Nozel blinks, then looks away, feeling silly for allowing his hackles to rise so easily. Yami is right anyway, he is old enough. He just doesn’t want someone to see him and the news makes its way to one of his siblings by mistake. It’s bad enough he has to be the most perfect version of himself at home, he can’t afford for the act to slip.

“But that’s not what’s stopping you, is it?” Yami asks, unnervingly knowing.

“I have an image to uphold.” Nozel reveals vaguely, hoping the brunet would just drop it.

Yami hums in understanding then turns to stare ahead.

“Must be exhausting.” He comments and something in Nozel cracks.

You have no idea. He wants to say, but he bites his tongue.

“Well, kid, your secret is safe with me.”

“I’m not that much shorter than you.” Nozel grumbles, stubbing out his finished cigarette into the wall then throwing it into the waste bin at the end of the alley.

“Still short for a magic squad captain.” Yami teases with a smirk. Nozel narrows his eyes at him.

“I’m not captain.” Yet.

“Really? You might wanna go see why Julius actually called for you, instead of smoking around in this dirty alley.”

Nozel’s brain flatlines for a second and it seems to be infinitely amusing for Yami, who cackles once realization dawns on Nozel’s face.

“No way.”

“ Yes way . Congratulations, or my condolences.”

Nozel can’t help the treacherous smile that makes its way to his lips.

He starts fumbling, adjusting his attire and making sure no piece of fabric on his robes is wrinkled. He pats his hair awkwardly, making sure his braid is in place with no strands escaping. He exhales into his hand and flinches at the foul smell of smoke lingering in his mouth, cursing himself for forgetting to buy a new pack of mint candy.

“Here, stop scrunching your nose up like that.” 

When he looks up, he finds Yami holding out a pack for him. He searches Yami’s eyes for any insincerity and finds none and he starts to understand why Fuegoleon likes him so much.

“For a foreigner, you’re not so bad.”

Yami barks out a laugh, “ahh, your approval! How could I have lived so long without it!”

Nozel grins as he chews the candy, glad for the refreshing taste of mint overtaking his mouth.

“Thanks, Black Bull.” He drawls as he walks away. He’s bordering on late to his meeting with the Wizard King.

“Bye, Silver Eagle! I guess I’ll be seeing you!”

“Nozel, forgive me for intruding.” 

Nozel lets out an inaudible sigh before lowering his hand and with it the cigarette he just lit, weighing the pros and cons of putting it out. 

“Please, don’t stop on my account.” The answer comes politely before he can make a decision and he turns to find the Golden Dawn captain smiling pleasantly at him, hands crossed behind his back.

“Vangeance.” Nozel nods at him then turns to stare ahead, finding the mundane brick wall fascinating. Visiting Fuegoleon daily has taken a toll on his mental health, so he often finds himself smoking a cigarette in the alley behind the infirmary, directly under the Crimson Lion captain’s window.

This way he can protect him from anyone coming to finish the job without having to face his failure in saving him in the first place.

“I haven’t seen you around the capital lately. Is everything okay?”

Nozel can’t stop himself from shooting William an incredulous look. William looks properly chastised in the dimly illuminated alley, courtesy of a full moon night.

“Pardon my ignorance.” The soft-spoken man placates him as he takes a buff, selfishly hoping the smoke will drive him away. He’s not in the mood to hold conversations.

“Nebra came to see me earlier, she’s worried about you.” So much for not holding conversations.

“Nebra should know better than to talk to an outsider about family matters.” It’s the right amount of cutting to drive William away, Nozel will let his guilt fester later, when all the bad feelings come to attack him at once.

William doesn’t budge.

“She does but it’s not like you’ve given her a chance to talk to you.” William’s tone is uncharacteristically crude.

William is a friend, Nozel reminds himself.

“I’m busy.”

“You won’t find them by neglecting your health and running on fumes.”

“What does health matter at a time like this?” Nozel snarls.

“Fuegoleon wouldn’t w-”

Nozel feels something in his heart give.

“Fuegoleon isn’t here !” His voice breaks at the end. “Fuegoleon is up there on an infirmary bed, missing an arm and without consciousness for who knows how long. Do not tell me what Fuegoleon would or wouldn’t want because he is not here and I’m all alone!”

He crushes the cigarette against the wall, standing to his full height as he lets it fall. 

“They hurt the only man I care about. I will not rest , William, until I make sure every single one of them feels his pain and mine tenfold .”

William’s eyes become unreadable for a split second before his tight expression becomes serene once again.

“You can’t do that if you collapse from exhaustion.” 

Nozel blinks at the way William absorbs his fury and hurt effortlessly. One second he feels like letting his mana run wild, destroying everything in its path, the next he feels like a puppet with its strings cut, unable to keep himself upright any longer.

He slumps against the wall, hating the way his body sags from relief after being kept tense for so long. William approaches him slowly, his hands held up like he’s soothing a wild animal. In a way, Nozel feels like he is, with so many feelings trapped within him and no possible way to release them.

“You blame yourself.” The Golden Dawn captain remarks with a quiet timbre, hands resting on his shoulders comfortingly.

“I should’ve been there. He should’ve had better support and the children shouldn’t have had to deal with it alone.” He admits wearily.

“You’re only hurting yourself thinking about what should’ve been. As squad captains with limited information about the threat, you took the best course of action on how to proceed. Fuegoleon may have got hurt but countless lives were saved because of where you were stationed. You did well, Nozel.”

He searches William’s eyes for a lie but finds nothing but sincere conviction.

He doesn’t quite believe the other captain and he’s sure it shows on his face but William only smiles kindly in return. 

“It’s Fuegoleon we’re talking about, Nozel. He’s going to be okay.”

Nozel believes him this time, not because he trusts William, but because he trusts Fuegoleon. He knows his lover and he knows he won’t let this be what ends him. He’s going to wake up and he’s going to fight like nothing’s happened.

Nozel just hopes it happens soon.

“Looking for this?” 

Nozel whips around to find Nebra dangling his cigarette pack in front of her cheekily. 

He thinks he ought to be more alarmed by the sight of his sister essentially finding him out but it’s been a long time coming really. He’s been keeping the smoking habit from his family for over ten years now and with his siblings becoming more friendly to each other- to Noelle, he mentally chastises himself- they were bound to find out sooner rather than later.

He’s about to very calmly demand Nebra hand him his pack without a fuss before he’s interrupted by Noelle and Solid’s entrance into the main hall.

“-and your sea serpent is quite like my sea dragon, I think the difference could be in the mana release which- Oh, Nebra-nee-san! Did Armando forget his pack here?”

Nozel mentally facepalms before turning to Nebra, daring her to correct Noelle’s assumption. He hates the fearless smirk on her face.

“No, it’s Nozel who forgot his pack here.”

He stands frozen under one mean gaze and two flabbergasted gazes pouring into his very soul and he thinks, maybe he wasn’t ready to be found out after all.

Nozel wishes he hadn’t tried it that first time in that empty creek far from his mother’s quarters. He wishes he didn’t like the feeling of blowing his worries away, wishes he’d stopped at that first try, didn't go back to that pleasant cloud of nothingness the moment his mother wasn’t there to stop him. 

He wishes he hated the feeling of fumes invading his lungs and filling his head with emptiness instead of the constant nagging worry of everything not being quite right . 

If only to avoid being looked at right now like he didn’t fit the image of the perfect brother he’s been building up for years. He can feel it collapsing in Noelle’s hesitantly troubled eyes and Solid’s downright scared expression. Nebra just looks like she’s glad she’s the cat that got the canary, he’s not sure what to make of that expression.

“What do you mean? Nozel-nii-sama, what does she mean?” It’s Solid who breaks the silence.

“Oh, your acting is terrible, Solid.” Nebra scoffs, and it’s like a pin snapping the balloon of tension in the room, Solid sags and goes to snatch the pack out of Nebra’s hands. 

Nozel feels stupid. He sees his confusion mirrored in Noelle’s eyes and feels relieved.

“You knew?” He asks his troublesome siblings, his voice weak.

“About five years ago, that mission to Tolsa in the Forsaken Realm. Solid was driving you up the wall and you excused yourself. Usually you excuse yourself to go snog Fuegoleon, which is gross, by the way, but with Fuegoleon so far away, we had to find out what you wanted to do by yourself when we were too much and lo and behold, you were just smoking a cigarette somewhere we couldn’t see you.”

He feels even more stupid but there’s a part of him that can’t compute what’s happening. He blinks rapidly, looking between Nebra and Solid’s twin grins.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks numbly. Their expressions sober up pretty quickly.

“We didn’t understand why you would keep it from us. It’s not like we’re going to judge you.” Nebra shrugs, like she doesn’t have a clue that their judgment could very well break Nozel into pieces.

“Oh yeah, you? Judge? Pffft, that’s preposterous!”

Noelle doesn’t realize she’s spoken out loud, judging by the widening of her eyes and her hands flying to cover her mouth. It’s not said out of malicious intent but it is so incredibly funny Nozel snorts out a laugh.

Nebra’s gaze zeroes and Noelle and he prepares himself to cut it before she says something mean, they were only just starting to mend their relationship and he can’t have anyone ruin the tentative peace.

“Touché, Noelle.” She says with a proud glint in her eyes and Nozel lets out a sigh of relief as Solid barks out a laugh. Noelle’s eyes remain wide as if she can’t comprehend how this didn’t end in blood.

Nozel forgets his current predicament to enjoy the easy atmosphere between them, happy that he did something right and bitter that he couldn’t have done it sooner.

Nebra turns to him, her eyes sharp.

“You didn’t think we’d judge you, did you?”

He feels exposed all of a sudden, opening his mouth to object but unable to come up with anything.

Nebra’s face falls and she looks insecure all of a sudden.

“Don’t be stupid, Nebra, Nozel-nii-sama knows we’d never.” Solid scoffs, unaware of the turmoil in his sister’s expression until his eyes meet Nozel’s and he sees the alarmed look on his face.

Now he looks properly scared.

“Nozel-nii-sama?” Noelle calls out tentatively, out of the three, she’s the only one who doesn’t look surprised. He turns his attention to her.

“It’s not that you’re afraid we’d judge you, is it?” 

He shakes his head, feeling a hot surge of humiliation all of a sudden.

“Then what is-?” Nebra begins to ask impatiently before Noelle interrupts, “you don’t have to be perfect for us all the time, nii-sama.”

Nozel’s heart stops beating in his chest. Noelle’s gaze is looking right through him, slicing his convictions in half with painful kindness. Familiar kindness.

“I love you any way you are, always remember that.”

His mother had whispered into his ear when she found out and it felt just like it feels now, like he’s seen .

Tears gather at his eyes without permission and he looks away swiftly, hoping Noelle didn’t catch the naked vulnerability in him.

“Oh,” Nebra whispers, “you don’t have to be perfect for us at all , Nozel.”

He turns to her despite himself and finds her eyes filled with clear sincerity. Next to her, Solid nods vigorously.

“They’re right, nii-sama! You’re the best big brother anyone can ask for, no matter what that Vermillion rascal says about his big brother!”

The reference to Leopold is so random it makes Nozel choke out a laugh through his tears. His siblings look stricken when they see him crying and he tries to wipe his tears as gracefully as he can.

Before he can say anything, Noelle crashes into him, arms wrapping around his middle as she buries her face into his chest.

“You’re the greatest brother anyone can have, and you’re an amazing captain. There’s nothing in the world that can change that.” She says, her voice muffled. “You’re going to be the best wizard king someday, if Asta doesn’t beat you to it.”

The statement makes him let out a strangled chuckle, marveling at Noelle’s obliviousness to love while also being grateful that she’s his sister.

He doesn’t understand how long it took him to realize that.

“That idiot got nothing on our brother!” Solid grumbles indignantly before joining the hug, wrapping one arm around Noelle and the other around Nozel.

The oldest Silva feels a longstanding fissure in his soul start to mend itself, ignited by the warmth radiating from his siblings. He looks up to find Nebra standing two feet away, hesitating.

He only has to lift his arm up for a second before she comes crashing into them, squeezing them with too much enthusiasm.

Solid groans, Noelle lets out a punched breath and Nebra laughs.

He closes his eyes and lets himself enjoy their closeness.

“Wow, what did I miss?”

If it were anyone else, they would’ve disentangled immediately and pretended this never happened but since it’s Fuegoleon, who might as well have been a fifth Silva sibling, they just turn to look at him from their embrace.

“A Nozel Silva appreciation hug. You’re free to join us!” Nebra quips cheerily.

“I thought you’d never ask.” His lover laughs, his voice getting closer until suddenly a strong chest supports Nozel’s back and warm arms wrap around the siblings huddle with little effort.

Sandwiched between the love of his life on one side and his family on the other, Nozel breathes clear air for the first time in so long.