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“This is a complete and total waste of time.”
“Nonsense! Armor is a very important skill, and it ought to be cultivated regardless of what class you endeavor to become! Knowing the ins and outs of armor is necessary for fighting!”
“Armor is useless for mages, but allow me to humor you, von Aegir – if that was, in fact, the case, how would pulling weeds do anything to better such a skill? There is no armor in sight, and it is hardly a daunting task. I’m surprised you even agreed to undertake it, I’ve heard Gloucester fuss over weekly duties for how unfit they are to noble life.”
“Weeding, unfit for nobles? Absolutely not!” Ferdinand exclaimed, pulling out another stubborn plant as he did, light catching on his hair. “It is exactly what it means to be a noble! By weeding we are at once building our strength and tending our land, striking out the treacherous things that threaten the good populace of the terrain. We are obligated, as nobles, to get our hands dirty in order to better the lives of commoners!”
Absolutely sickening. Hubert scowled, disgusted with the ideal fantasies of some spoiled brat who had no idea how cruel the world really was.
“Not to mention, you said armor was still useless for you! Poppycock! Perhaps an exercise such as this will not efficiently grant you a way to gain muscle mass to properly wear the armor itself, but the concept and mechanisms of armor are still vital for a mage to know! You cannot fire spells ad nauseum, eventually you may wear out and refer to a secondary weapon. I believe you are somewhat proficient in archery? If you do not study armor properly how will you ever understand where to shoot? You must come to learn how different styles function and where their weak points are so you can have a clear hit! Honestly, you ought to simply train in lances – I bet you’d have talent with them!”
That was enough of listening to Ferdinand’s yapping. In one movement, Hubert stood, turning around to leave.
“I’m certain you’ll find all of this work more beneficial than I shall. I expect masterful exalts, since you seem oh so knowledgeable.”
He did not have to turn and look to imagine the infuriated flush to match the squawk he heard from behind him.
***
Hubert had assumed his plea to no longer have weeding duty with Ferdinand would have stopped the professor from pairing them up ever again. After all, it was only going to end poorly. Ferdinand was absolutely ridiculous and stubborn and incapable of meshing with Hubert’s personality.
Somehow, the idea of being put on stable duty a scant few months later was even worse. Now he had to hear the younger student prattle on and on about his equine endeavors.
It was, to say the least, going to be a grating experience.
And yet – when Hubert approached the stables, certainly not sulking at all, it was not silent, nor filled with overly doting words for the horses. Instead-
“Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow, bloom and grow forever. Edelweiss, edelweiss, bless my homeland forever.”
Hubert stopped in his tracks. Was that… singing? The voice was warm, and terribly fond, and somehow it made Hubert feel as though he was being burned from the inside out. Careful, he took a closer look as the singing faded into hums.
There, right where he should have been, was Ferdinand von Aegir, gently stroking the nose of some foal, the very perpetrator of the singing that could have easily landed him beside Dorothea and Manuela both.
He was so… quiet and restrained, like this, overly gentle for the small creature. It was almost as if Hubert was walking in on something sacred, something he of all people did not deserve to witness.
“Now, now, please don’t give me that look, Cardamom! If you keep that up, I shall have to sing another verse, and we both know that Hubert will be showing up soon. If he hears me he will most certainly patronize me before we even begin, and I would rather not have something I am so terribly fond of be ruined by his sinister disposition.”
Ah. That explained why he had never heard Ferdinand sing before. Everyone else, certainly, he had been forced to join with at choir, but Ferdinand always managed to dodge him then, and Dorothea, and Edelgard… was he truly so shy? None of this was like the boisterous cavalier at all.
Even so, he had dallied long enough. Hubert composed himself and swept into the stables, not looking at nor greeting Ferdinand once as he did.
If he stayed silent throughout the chore and allowed Ferdinand to pester him with all sorts of facts about horses, well, no one had to know.
Most certainly no one would think anything of it if he did so with complacency for the rest of the year.
(And if when Ferdinand returned to his dorm later in the week he found a dainty edelweiss flower upon his pillow, well, Hubert certainly couldn’t tell anyone who the culprit was.)
***
War did a lot to change people.
More than ever, Hubert relied on the other members of the strike force. They were… regrettably, companions. He could no longer distance them from himself as potential threats when they all stood by Edelgard’s side against the church.
Even Ferdinand.
Over the past five years, they had grown closer. What had started as long winded speeches about cavalry during their weekly chores had become necessary pair-ups in battle, which had evolved to strategy meetings together late in the night. Most recently they had begun a new weekly tradition of taking tea and coffee together, and if either of them found it bizarre how companionable they were when in regard to how they began, neither voiced it.
It certainly did not help that being back at the monastery with the professor allowed for Hubert to cultivate the greenhouse once more. All sorts of poisonous plants that he could use for his deeds-
-and a small patch of innocent white flowers in the back.
Hubert had grown endlessly enamored with Ferdinand, and he had now realized the root of the problem: he was far too much a coward to do anything about it.
Hence the flowers. Each time he placed a single bloom of edelweiss on Ferdinand’s bed, it felt like something close to a confession. Something secret – something that would make Ferdinand smile, if only for a moment, knowing someone was admiring him, even if he did not know who.
It was probably best if he did not know who, since Hubert was most certainly not going to live to see the next week. He wouldn’t want to cause any heart break.
“Hubert, relax, you’re making the wyverns anxious!” Ferdinand soothed, a hand too warm, too soft on Hubert’s bicep before Ferdinand left him with the… demon creature. “Our professor wishes us to practice some flying, where is the harm in such a thing? Being flexible is a good quality for the empire, even you must agree to that.”
Ferdinand knew him all too well. It simply wasn’t fair.
“It will be your fault if I die here,” Hubert warned, though the threat was hardly intimidating with how pale he was, and how his tone wavered.
Ferdinand snorted, already mounting his wyvern. “You will not die, Hubert. It’s just a short flight! Honestly, you’re being so silly-”
Something about the cornered look in Hubert’s eyes must have been caught by Ferdinand’s attention, for the redhead sighed slightly, giving an earnest, but small, smile.
“Hubert, I swear that you will not die. If you fall, I shall catch you.”
It was comforting, but not enough. “There are far too many possibilities – so many things could go wrong, I cannot take faith in that alone, regardless of your strength and skill-”
By now, Ferdinand was rolling his eyes, urging his wyvern closer to Hubert. As Hubert continued to ramble, desperate to express how bad an idea this was, Ferdinand grabbed him under his arms and pulled him up beside him.
Neither of them mentioned the gasp Hubert gave at the movement.
“Now,” Ferdinand guided, forcing Hubert to straighten in front of him, turning his shoulders, “we are going flying. I would suggest you hold onto the reigns, or saddle – whatever you think would be best. Here we go-”
With a noise that sounded more like a frightened cat than an imperial minister, Hubert turned back around to face Ferdinand as they took off into the sky.
Ferdinand had hardly realized what had happened until they reached a stable flying altitude. Now turned around, Hubert had his arms wrapped completely about Ferdinand’s waist, face buried in his chest as he continued his vice grip.
Everything about it was extremely not Hubert von Vestra.
“Flames – Hubert, what are you – I didn’t mean for you to hold me! Should we go back to the ground-?”
That only seemed to make him clutch tighter. “This is s-something that must, must be overcome, for, for the s-sake of the empire.” There would be no helping this, then.
“Fine – fine, Hubert, if that is what it must take, then continue your grip. Just – I must encourage you, look up, at the least? We are supposed to be patrolling, or at least training for such, so you need to be able to at least pick your head up. I’m not sure what exactly it is you’re upset with, but if you wish not to look below, then… focus on a cloud, or the wyvern, or even the sun, if it helps!”
It took a minute, maybe two, but Ferdinand felt the weight on his breast lift slowly up.
Nothing could have prepared him for the full intensity of Hubert’s gaze on him. Both citrine eyes were visible, hair ruffled from the breeze, and they were wide and nearly blank with – with what had to be fear, there could be no doubt.
Hubert von Vestra was afraid.
More than that, he was panicked. At this rate he was definitely hyperventilating, and nothing would be made easier by him passing out.
That was quite enough. Without words, Ferdinand took them back down. As soon as the wyvern hit the field beneath them where they had gone out for practice, Hubert half scrambled, half fell off the beast, lying flat on the ground.
Ferdinand dismounted more traditionally before coming over to sit at Hubert’s side, saying nothing as the mage palmed at his eyes and settled his breathing.
“Looking at the sun did not help things,” he finally groaned, still refusing to look at the sky.
“Look at the – Hubert, I said to look at something of the like, or indeed the sun, but you only looked at me!”
“What is the difference?” he retorted, voice sharp and stinging, tinged with the feeling of being overwhelmed.
If only he could bring himself to look, he would see Ferdinand’s face warm to a deep crimson.
“Hubert…”
Carefully, as though the other was a wounded animal, Ferdinand placed a hand on his shoulder. “Is there… anything I can do to settle you?”
Shifting to cross his arms over his eyes instead, knees shaking and still overly pale, Hubert gave words so soft Ferdinand could hardly hear them.
“What was that-?”
“Sing. Could you, could you just,”
The crimson turned to burgundy. Hesitantly, Ferdinand moved his hand up, coming to rest at Hubert’s hair.
“If – If you, if you insist, I…”
If it would truly put him at ease, he had no choice. Biting his lip, Ferdinand scanned his brain for a song before settling on something familiar, something he was reminded of on the odd nights he turned in late, something else waiting up for him.
“Edelweiss, edelweiss, every morning you greet me. Small and white, clean and bright, you look happy to meet me.”
He stroked along the wind-tossed strands of black hair as he sang, horribly unsure of himself and what he was doing, but putting pieces of the picture together.
After two rounds of the song, Hubert seemed calm enough to uncover himself, staring blankly back up at the world.
“You’re afraid of heights?”
A noncommittal noise came in answer. More slowly, Ferdinand added:
“You… you’re the one that’s been giving me flowers, aren’t you.”
Not a question. Not something Hubert could deny when put as a statement. He had expected Ferdinand’s usual easy confidence, a bold accusation… not this soft and timid thing, as if afraid to be wrong.
Slowly, Hubert sat up, getting a full view of how Ferdinand looked to the grass, fingers fiddling together. “You knew.”
Ferdinand gave a wry smile as he looked up at him through his eyelashes, a horrible look that did terrible things to his heart. “I had my suspicions. I assumed you had overheard me in the stables before we worked together. They started appearing not long after, and I’m certain no one else was nearby…”
“I suppose I still have far to go as a spymaster, then. My… apologies. Both for this dreadful excursion and… everything I’ve done to you. In the past.”
A calloused hand shifted closer to the pale one lying in the grass, tentatively moving to press a couple of fingertips of the other.
“It is quite alright, Hubert. You have far payed in kind by putting up with my nonsense for years.”
“Still, I feel I must buy your silence.”
Hubert tucked his other hand into his cloak, going for one of the many pockets he had lining it. Successful, he pulled out an edelweiss flower, picked preemptively with the thought to bestow it on Ferdinand’s bed later in the day.
“Perhaps this will do.”
With all the care that would be allotted to resting a crown of priceless jewels onto the emperor’s head, Hubert wove the sprig through Ferdinand’s ear, hand lingering on his cheek as he came in closer, closing the distance to press a sweet, short kiss to his lips.
He pulled back to find Ferdinand chasing him, a look of blissful surprise coating his visage. Hubert allowed one more kiss, feeling Ferdinand’s hand curl around his own from where they were on the ground.
“I trust that will suffice?”
Ferdinand now the one breathless, his lips curved into a grin, white and dazzling.
“Oh, no, I’m not quite sure I’m satisfied yet. You may need to do it again.”
“As you wish.”