#hubert angst

“Hubert. Cease the hostility. I’m okay. Cast off your spell.” Miss Edelgard follows behind him and inspecting the charred remnants of the molotov and your wound. Lindhardt sighs but he heals you right away. A splitting headache pounding your head aggressively all of sudden. Coughing and wheezing, you try to catch your breath and pinch the bridge of your nose, hoping to subdue the pain. “Fire arrows won’t be effective because the strong wind currents from the sea will put them out for sure. But we can blow the harbor and strike the city with a pincer attack simultaneously.” Petra and Ferdinand hum at your idea, while the Professor nods solemnly.

“Give me three days and I’ll make it bigger for the upcoming battle. The loud sound that it produces will cause the civilians panic and run away. We can avoid unnecessary bloodshed that way. See you later.” Everyone is concerned about you but you wave it off nonchalantly. Taking your leave, you tell them that the headache will subside if you take an early rest. Those Bolganone sure take a toll on your health. Ugh… Damn you Hubert.

---

The candlelight flickers as you sit at your desk. The day has been long, but the night will be even longer. Nobody is awake at this hour. It’s well past midnight, and the light outside is white, courtesy of the moon. Your quill dances furiously on the paper as you make notes here and there, pouring your concentration over the map of Derdriu fine tuning your strategy for the upcoming battle.

Sharp knocks came from the door on the other side of your quarters door making you shriek in of surprise. 

“(Y/N)?”

You sigh, quill stopping as your focus begins to fade. Awful scratches and ink smears run across the paper haphazardly now. Great. “I’m not deaf, you know.” Placing your now broken quill into its holder, you open the door with a pout on your lips.

“Industrious as ever, (Y/N). Still at it?”

“Not anymore, thanks to you, Ratman.” A small night candle on your desk illuminates Hubert’s tall form towering over you. He laughs at your retort. “That’s me, I take it?” Like a brewing storm, you can sense his anger beneath that foreboding smirk. He sighs, looking skyward before he studies you warily, chartreuse eyes narrowing with unnerving focus.

Your raised brow and blank stare are the only response he receives. “If you say so.” To have the infamous Vestra in front of your door in the dead of the night... Hubert is a true embodiment of a grim reaper. 

He’s been doing this every night since that meeting, even after you slammed your door right in his face for these multiple times. Honestly, it’s tiring. Maybe you should let him enter tonight and cease those endless stalking... but looking at him, your mouth curves into a slanted smile. “Remove the blades in your shirt, inner thighs, and the poisonous darts in your cravat. Take off the three knives you had beneath your belt. Place them on my desk and we can talk.”

Impressed by your acumen, his eyes widen at your words. But Hubert chooses to do so as you demand, then tucks his hands behind his back, following you into the room. But he yelps hard when you stomp hard on his foot heavily before he can enter. “What did I say about placing ALL of your weapons on my desk? Remove the dagger inside your left glove, Hubert. Don’t test my patience or you’ll end up as a patient. Lindhardt’s patient.” Your tone become dangerously quiet, eyes glinting with feral threat. “He’ll be upset if you DO at this hour.”

“Vigilant as ever,” Hubert laughs. Not a menacing laugh, but a hearty one. It causes a smile that reaches his beautiful chartreuse eyes. A laugh that really catches you off guard. Almost out of his character but somehow fits him perfectly. Soft creak can be heard as Hubert slithers quietly to close your door behind his back. He reaches for various weapons concealed beneath his clothing fluidly then tosses it to your desk without removing his intense glare from you. Not even for a second.

Hubert is... handsome and charming in his own way. Despite his creepy stalker tendencies and pricky attitude, you found him rather attractive. His mature demeanor, composure, and bright mind has done great service to Miss Edelgard and Black Eagles Force. Mesmerizing chartreuse eyes, tall stature, long fingers, defined cheekbones, and raven black hair suit him perfectly. Ahem. Put all those crazy thoughts aside, you clear your throat and walk to his side. “What do you want from me, Hubert?” You stammer, your thoughts getting the best of you. Internally, you cursed yourself for showing any weakness to this man.

“Elaborate your plan and true intentions. Why are you so adamant to avoid casualties?” Gone is the smile from his face, replaced with stoic indifference, falling into that cold facade as cold as Faerghus’ winter. Slender hands trails down your jawline to your chin, then urges you to meet his eyes. His breath fans your forehead, inches from yours. Chill runs down your spine as his menacing glare swallows you whole.

“You seem so intent to turn my ideas down. What is your ulterior motive? Do you have any personal grudge towards me? Hatred? Are you a spy from the Alliance or Faerghus?” In a swift motion, Hubert dips his fingers beneath your nightgown, caressing your inner thigh as he pulls out a dagger that was strapped there. His feathery touch is smooth against your skin, provocative and tantalizing in a way that make you gasp. Heat begin pounding in your core, between your legs.

Hubert laughs, though not entirely with amusement. “We are even, now.” He said it devilishly, enough to burn your cheeks furiously. You take an uneven breath and shoot him an angry, flustered look. The two of you stand practically head to head (no, head to stomach due to your height), glaring at each other. The temperature in the room rises several degrees.

“So you are the one who’s been sneaking around, watching me from the shadows these days,” you said sharply. Surprise flashes for a millisecond in those chartreuse eyes, but with your own training, you recognize the emotion immediately. Dark chuckles escape from your lips as you come close enough to lay your hand on his chest, your mouth curving into a wicked smile. “You’re not the only one with secrets, von Vestra.”

There’s no greater joy than watching how his pale face whitens slightly and he backs into a stance prepared to attack and kill if need be.

“Now,” you finally managed to avert your eyes and wave your hand dismissively. “By all means, let’s discuss. Winning isn’t always about bloodshed and fatality. Let’s not glorify that bloody scarlet path that you love so much, Mr. Black Rat.” Throwing a pointed look in his direction, you turning on your heel and begin to lead Hubert to your desk. “We only need to subdue the city, not demolish it.” 

Slowly he follows behind you, his tall frame effortlessly intimidating. “How will you achieve such lofty, pipe dreams? Amusing.” A sly smile dances on his lips as Hubert looks down at you intently. That burning look sure reminds you of a predator that is eager to kill its prey.

“Crush their willpower and create massive chaos. Send their soldiers into disarray. It will be easier to capture Derdriu that way.” Rummaging through some blueprints and papers, you pick a small iron ore ball with a fuse on its top from the corner of the table and hand it to him. “Handle with caution. Procuring the materials isn’t easy but I managed to do it with Lindhardt’s help. Stretching from the sea to the Oghma Mountains, the County of Hevring is well known for its abundant mining resources. I made a lot of these from charcoal, limestone, and sulphur. This black gunpowder and the molotovs will be helpful in our upcoming battle. Be careful, they are highly combustible. Twenty of them are enough to blow down this whole monastery.” Hubert chuckles as he examines the round thing in his palm. 

“We are born with two innate fears which are universal and common to all humans regardless of the society or culture into which they were born and raised. They are the fear of loud noises and the fear of falling. Considering these matters of facts, I want to crush Claude’s troops’ morale to ensure us a smooth sail.”

He looks intrigued by your revelation. Palpable curiosity glimmers in his eyes intensely as he looks back and forth between you and the black gunpowder ball. “So you want to blow Derdriu and avoid casualties. You pique my interest now, (Y/N). How is it possible with a small ball like this? I need to see whether you are really telling the truth or lies. Now, prove it to me.”

“What do you me—Aaaah!!!” He grabs your hand and warps both of you together. Biting cold breeze of winter forces you to open your eyes and fold your arms over your body for a semblance of warmth. The moon is rising round and large out of the mist, shining light onto the water beneath the... cliff?! Damn. Hubert warped the two of you to the edge of a ravine near monastery. Hanging around on a cold place like this on Guardian Moon in your flimsy nightgown will make you sick for sure. You could see the curls of your breaths in this cold weather. No sane person would lounging around a cliff on a cold winter night like this. But Hubert is not one to begin with. 

“It is far too cold to be out here so late, you dark rat," you mumble angrily. His brows furrow at your words. Tense atmosphere is hanging between you like walking on thin ice. One wrong move and his composure will shatters. “You sure indulge me with your incessant squeaking and chattering, (Y/N). It’s highly unusual to find someone who isn’t frightened or intimidated by me.” He takes another step closer to corner you to the edge of the cliff. You react to his closer proximity by taking a step backward but stop abruptly as the ground crumbles, causing you to let out a small squeak. 

“That’s a cute sound you have there, Pipsqueak.” Hubert chuckles in his deep, alluring voice that reverberates through the sounds of howling wind beneath the cliff. Fuck this creepy weirdo. Is he really determined to kill you? Jagged rocks are protruding proudly, tucked away dangerously among the crevices below. Plummeting thousands of feet to the depth of the ravine will put an end to your life for sure. 

“Call me mouse one more time and I will crawl up your leg and bite the first thing I find.” Taking several steps backwards, you don’t even realize you’re edging extremely close to the edge of the ravine until there’s a harsh grip on your wrist tugging you back from it. You follow the arm to find Hubert glowers at you angrily. Panic, adrenaline rush, and blood pumps against your temples when you blast Cutting Gale to get away from his grasp. Run, run, run. You chant in your mind as you sprint behind him for safety.

A small cut formed on Hubert’s cheek, his eyes widen, staggered by your courage. He reaches up to touch his cheek. His pristine white glove is stained with red. “What was that for?” He looks down at you, muscles tense as his eyes become narrow.

“Self-defense. Sorry I missed. Was aiming at your head.” You say coldly, looking straight into his eyes. Hubert’s smirk disappears and his mouth sets in a grim line. But then, he starts laughing. The type of laughter which makes you flinch. You definitely cannot stick around any longer. Suddenly his expression turns cautious as he leaps at you like an animal chasing its prey and grabs your hand in a vice-like grip. As if on a cue, the ground beneath you gives away. If Hubert had not grasped and pulled your hands firmly, you would be as good as dead now.

“What on earth do you think you were doing? This ravine is dangerous. Any ludicrous act like that will grant you an immediate death, Pipsqueak.” Either it was a bad joke or a truth, it seems so convincing when Hubert is the one who spoke it. Your heartbeat shoots up to marathon level when he presses you to his chest reflexively. “You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

“H-H-Hubert!!!” Pushing him away, you give Hubert an upset look despite your cheeks are burning red and knees feeling all weak. Either from his strong embrace or the adrenaline rush. You can’t tell which, but you insist that it was the latter. It must be. You barely manage to get to your feet before the shaking resume. Ugh... All of those occurrences and magic exertion makes you nauseous and dizzy now. The cold wind is not helping either. Cursing to yourself, you have no choice but to grip Hubert’s extended hand as he pulls you to your feet. Your knees buckle, but you stay upright.

“Stay still. I will REALLY dispose of you into the ravine below if you’re trying anything funny again. This is no joke. Therefore, if an untimely demise is not to your liking, you would do well to demonstrate your utility with all haste. I should warn you that I am far less compromising than Lady Edelgard.” Noticing your pale complexion and quivering form, Hubert unclasps his cape and swathes it around your body. His face consists of annoyance, pain, and probably outright exasperation. Yet despite his cruel threats, he bundles you in such a delicate manner, gloved fingers handle you gingerly with such gentleness. Almost like he is terrified to touch you. Is this really that scary Hubert? The cape is warm and cozy but its excessive length makes you look funny now, like an infant. That grave demeanor and ominous eloquence sure belies his kindness.

“Now... Show me how to use this thing properly, Pipsqueak.” Exhaling sharply, Hubert places the small iron ball in your palm softly. You can’t help but to feel a bit sorry for Hubert. Being so quick to jump into your own fear and conclusions have brought him harm. It is certainly not a good night to be Hubert.

Was it just a misunderstanding? Maybe he isn’t that evil despite his intense presence and sinister demeanor...??

“Let’s get it over with, then. The sooner the better. Stay back.” Focusing yourself, you launch the iron ball as far as you can to the ravine below, then hurl a Bolganone at it. Forceful explosion happens in an instant when the fire lights its fuse, a violent boom crashes the stillness of the night. Casting another Reason spell makes you languid and quiver. You are on the verge of fainting. Cold sweat beads on your forehead despite the cold wind that chills to the bone. Good grief Hubert doesn’t seem to notice this. He is.... dumbstruck. Jaw dropping with apprehension and surprise. It was priceless. You laugh at his silly face, making the older man frown as he warps both of you back to your room.

---

Coffee’s distinct robust aroma envelops your whole quarters. Made from pure coffee beans that you bought last week, freshly ground, then brewed to perfection. Hubert may not the nicest person to talk with but he sure is really good with his hands. He sure knows the perfect way to prepare a coffee. It’s almost fascinating to see his gloved long fingers prancing around elegantly to brew some coffee for both of you.

“How would you like your coffee?”

“Hot, dark, and bitter. Just like how I prefer my man.” Spoon clatters as his fluid movement halts abruptly from your playful words. Who would’ve thought that a mindless joke like that would catch him off guard? How interesting. Hubert is bewildered by your words. The faintest blush dusts his cheeks as he curses himself for becoming distracted by you. It fades in a mere second, though. Was it your imagination? “Do you mean me?” He smirks. Rolling your eyes, you scoff at him.

A nice smell wafts from a cup of coffee that he presents you. But your smile dissipates as soon as you see the black liquid. It is everything you can do to keep your expression neutral in front of him. 

“It would be a great morale boost for Black Eagles Strike Force if you would join us in capturing Derdriu and use that magnificent explosion against that scheming tactician.” Hubert pulls another chair to the table and sit across you with a cup of coffee in his hand.

“I refuse.”

“Scared?”

“No. I can’t, Hubert. And I won’t.”

“Cowardice suits you well.” You sigh at his brazen words. How vexing. You can feel something snapped. Your patience, it is.

“It would be not wise to coerce me. That’s not within the scope of my expertise.”

Countless prayers run in your mind as you ask Goddess Sothis whether she could grant you an insurmountable amount of patience to not stomp on his feet again. You need it gravely for this conversation.

“Can’t you see? I’m not well suited for a battle, you dark old rat!” Placing the coffee on your desk unceremoniously, mouth drooping and arms tighten around your chest as you meet his gaze unflinchingly. 

“Old rat?” His expression betrays nothing—he merely glances at you over the rim of his cup and sips his coffee. Hubert rises to his feet and strides over to you. It’s hard to read his expression but your words surely get under his skin a little bit. Or so it seems. His tall, imposing figure is looming over you now.

“Some say I’m a rat - always conniving in the shadows. Perhaps so. Truth to be told, I’m not that old. Besides,” Hubert eyes narrow slightly, but he put on what you supposed was his attempt at a pleasant smile. Poor attempt. “I’m not the only rat around here, little mouse.”

“Hubert.” You warned, “You might be ten years older than me but I’ll fight you tooth and nail if I need to!”

“That would make you fifteen years old, then.” His eyes scan over you from head to toe with mirth. The light blush on your face is priceless. If only Hubert could draw it, keep it so he could hang it over your head. You stop in your tracks, eyebrows furrowed and lips thinned. “You have never mentioned your age to me, so don’t ask me. But I assume that you are much younger than me. I will turn 26 this Great Tree Moon.” He thought out loud with a gleeful smirk dancing on his lips, gloved hand rubbing on his chin. “Look at you... So tiny that you could almost fit in my pocket.”

Could this man say anything nice? 

“I suppose I haven’t. I didn’t deem it important. Either way we are only five years apart. I might be small but I can gnaw your hands if you keep on mocking me!” Hubert sure looks way much older than his age considering his demeanor and sharp features. He may be striking as cold, threatening, and sinister but you can feel his caring and kindness somehow. Perhaps if you could see the other sides of his facade, it would be better. The idea of his being much closer to your age makes your heart beat faster. Not that you wish to date him or anything.

Hubert straightens and rolls his shoulders, as if shaking off his annoyance. “Put that aside, you should join us in the next battle to prove your fealty to the Empire.” For someone so intelligent, Hubert can be very dense. How annoying. Can this man take a “No” for an answer? It would be humiliating to tell him about your sickly and frail condition.

“My allegiance only belongs to the Empire and Miss Edelgard. I don’t need to prove my loyalty here and there just because you asked me to do so, Hubert.”

“What are you squeaking about now? All bark and no bite? But yes. I can picture it as clear as a day.” Gloved fingers tap solemnly on your wooden desk as Hubert is contemplating his next words. “A puny mouse like you won’t be able to hit any enemies on the battlefield.” This won’t be going anywhere. It’s as if he is waiting for something to explode.

Composure, composure.... A heavy sigh escape from your nose. The last effort to stay sane. Ah... Just when the pain from using those Reason magic subsides. How annoying. You think you see his eyes flick to your clenched fist, but he composes himself almost immediately.

“Alright. I’ll comply and participate in every battle from now on forth. I understand as much about war like the back of my palms,” you finally relent, shattering the silence that had surrounded both of you as you took another sip of your coffee. “Military tactics, strategies, poisons, medicine, weather, terrain, wind currents, explosives, mounts, weapons, magic. You can count in me. Let me fight for Black Eagles Strike Force with my gifts.” He leaned a little closer, possibly so he could hear you better, or to make sure of your decision. Because of his height, you have to jut your chin up to be able to look into his eyes. A blush creeps over your cheeks when you notice your mistake, though. His intense presence has already started taking effect. You are aware of his chartreuse green eyes on you but choose to ignore it, somewhat grateful for the awkward silence.

“Sudden change of mind? What’s your real intention, (Y/N)?” 

“I don’t have to tell you. And I have my... own reasons.” At this point, you couldn't tell if his facial expression is amusement or irritation. “And,” you said as you look him dead in the eye, “It's not going to work on me, von Vestra,” you say, taking another casual sip of the coffee.

Eventually you sigh and look at him dispassionately, stirring the drink in your cup. He remains silent and you take that as your cue to continue. “Don’t play coy with me, Hubert. I know what you put inside my cup. A sip is potent enough to paralyze me. Half a cup of this would be able to kill me in an instant. But it won’t. I’m used to it already.” You said, then gulping down the rest of your coffee and slamming the cup forcefully on your desk.

Shock is a lightning strike across his face and Hubert studies you for a moment, jaw muscle twitching as he thinks. He is surprised that you found it out. How?! 

When his gaze returns to where you sit, your eyes are already on his, not an ounce of trust in them. “Just like how the House of Vestra has served Hresvelg for centuries, my family were the one who taught them the necessary skills to do so since the dawn of the Empire. You may not know it, but my Mother was the one who taught Marquis Vestra in his younger days. As for my Father... he was a renowned strategist that is well known for his great tactical wit and military prowess that helped House of Bergliez to seize their countless victories.” 

 “Wait, then that means.....” A long pause, like the words are choked out from him. “Your family is... (F/N)....” 

Prodding the table with your forefinger, you dig your short nails into the wood. Blood boil as your long lost abandoned family name slips from his lips. “No poison, venom, nor toxin will work against me.” Studying your empty cup and Hubert’s collection of weapons at your side, you stuff his daggers, blades, darts, and knives into a small satchel of yours and hand them to him with simmering rage. “My parents taught me A LOT... But I’m the LAST of (F/N) NOW. Father had asked me to abandon that name for my own safety, but.....” You try to keep from grimacing as you rise from your seat and look at him with anger.

“Yes. They were killed due to having supported Emperor Ionius IX until their dying breath during the Insurrection of the Seven under the leadership of Duke Aegir and Marquis Vestra.” Tighten your hands into fists, blood trickles from between your fingers. After a stilted pause, you add, “Your Father slaughtered them and our House fourteen years ago by his own hand, Hubert.”

You twist and pull uselessly at the iron around your wrists, arms high, panting with the effort of not screaming your pain. You knew it was useless but you thrashed anyway as a War Master cracked a whip viciously against pale skin, leaving reddening stripes behind that bleed from your arm.

“Again, I ask you, which route that Black Eagles Strike Force will take to assault Fhirdiad?” The heavily built Great Knight leans forward and grips your hair, forcing your head up and back, knife in his other hand. The small blade traced the line of your cheek, drawing a red ribbon of blood that ran down your throat. “Nn- Nnh!!” You can only grit your teeth as tears sting your eyes. “I'm not going to tell you anything.” The salt from your tears burned all down the cut on your cheek but you couldn’t answer. Putting the knife away, he cups your face in his rough palm, staring down at you intently. You barely held your own head up, but you managed it, staring back at your captors. There are three people that surround you with a malicious grin. A muscular Great Knight, stout War Master, and a thin Mortal Savant. They have lion insignia from your homeland on their armor.

You couldn’t give it. You knew what you were being asked. They never told you directly but you can pinpoint it from several previous meetings that you managed to attend. Only a handful of the Black Eagles Strike Force knew about this diversion tactic. In order to secure a successful invasion of Fhirdiad, Black Eagles will launch a raid on the Fortress City of Arianrhod, which occupies a key position on the border between the Adrestian Empire and Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. It wouldn’t stay unknown for more than a handful of days, of course, but that was all the time the army would need to prepare and strengthen the force to attack. If you let that location out now, it will be a massive blow to Black Eagles. And you will never allow it to happen.

It’s been nine days since you were captured and taken into this cold, dingy room with one small window that looks out on the sky. The walls are slightly damp, a feeling of coolness emanating from the space. Everyday is getting worse than before. You can’t even remember when the last time they gave you something to eat. Was it three days ago? Not to mention that they barely let you get enough rest with these constant beating. ‘Will they come to save me? No... Black Eagles won’t bother to come looking for an outsider like me, probably they are happy now that I am gone. It won’t be a surprise if they think of it as a good riddance.’ Still, despite the clawing sadness in your heart and their cold shoulder treatments, you will never betray them. Resigned to your fate, you try to gulp down the loneliness that claws at your throat.

“The way you wield your spear....  you came from Faerghus, I can see it as clear as a day. To defect to the enemy, selling your own country. You are guilty of treason.” Cracking his knuckles, the War Master smirks as he slams his fist against your leg violently. The blow drove breath from your lungs, a loud sickening crack of bone can be heard as it tears a scream out of you. “How can you stoop so low? It’s blatantly obvious that nobody really cares what happens to an Imperial dog like you.” A Mortal Savant sighs, letting out a low chuckle as she gazes at you coldly before swinging her katana at your abdomen. You gasp in shock as blood splatters on the cold floor like a spray. A large gash was split open from your navel to hip, glistening red like a mouth open wide. “If your team cares about you so much, why haven't they come to rescue you? They don't care about you. They WON’T come to get you. Pathetic.” Her friends jeer like spectators at her words. Their grin widened as she twistened her katana further, eliciting another pained cry from you. “No one is coming for you.” White hot pain ripped through you as the blade sunk into your stomach with an ironic resemblance to the way her words drilled into your head. You didn’t know which hurt more.

“So," She leans closer, staring straight at your eyes, asking again, almost gently. “Which route?” Staring back at your captor, you only shake your head. “My answer remains the same,” you said between ragged breath and coppery metallic taste in your mouth. Her fake smile dissipates into nasty smirks as she grips your hair and slamming your skull to the brick wall several times. “Your eyes, they still have that little light flickering in them. I believe some call it hope. Don’t worry though, we’ll drown that out as soon as we can.” She laughs, dry and mirthless then waves her goodbye to her colleagues casually as if torturing someone were a common occurrence for her. “Stupid girl. You did this to yourself. Guess that’s the end of it. Do whatever you want to her. I’ll go and tell the Commander about her stubbornness.”

Pain crashes down on you, arching your back and blurring the world. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to ignore the feel of a warm trickle of blood down your neck a few moments later. Exhausted and bleeding, you are barely able to stand on your broken leg. “Now,” The knight unlinks the chain connecting your wrists to the shackles to the wall, sending you sprawled on the ground as your legs give up on you. Cupping your face, his eyes rake over your body hungrily. “You’re quite the eye-catcher. We’ve been feeling really pent up lately and in for a much needed… release. Maybe you will be more willing to speak after we have some... fun?” He looks at you over in a way that makes you shudder. His friend nods eagerly as he saunters his way over to you again.

“Please d-don’t… Just don’t, n-not that,” you whimper, fighting desperately to get away, but your broken leg is restrained and trapped underneath him. The War Master licks his lips hungrily as he drinks in the horror on your face. “Don’t fret now, little darling. We will do you good,” he drawled, sheer lust dripping from his voice. He holds your face in place by your chin with a vice-like grip cold as ice and locks your lips together, melting into the warmth of your mouth with a deep groan. “Delicious little thing,” he moaned, muffled against your lips. Sweet as honey, warm and soft, and helpless for him. He pulls back with lust filled eyes and cheeks damp with your blood and tears. Your little body was shaking all over. “Please don’t do this to me.”

Both of them simply respond with a smile as the Great Knight shoves you onto your back, pushing the fabric of your blood-soaked, tattered robe up and out the way until you are laid bare and sobbing under him. He shamelessly exploits the moment to admire every inch of you he could take in. “Can’t believe I finally get to do this. What a gem,” the man sighs happily as he gropes and sucks on your breasts. Relishing every scream and whimpers from you who are pleading between choked off sobs, his friend rakes his eyes over your nude body as if it were the most intricate thing he’d ever seen or touched. The men’s lascivious expressions confirmed your horrid foreboding as they freed themselves from the all too restricting fabric. Ignoring the agonizing pain, your blood smeared across the cold floor as you tried your best to crawl away from them. The knight’s smile broadens as he yanks you above him, hands grip you down tightly. “Don’t worry, baby. Gonna fuck you open nice and slow.” A loud yelp escapes you when the War Master leans his entire body weight on top of your already helpless form, practically sandwiching you between them. “Let’s see this as an appetizer before the feast.”

You couldn't stop yourself from screaming as they push into you, forcing themselves deep inside your aching, naked body. Their large frames are covering yours, hips thrusting in and out of you at a brutal pace. Both men guffawed at your choke off muffled grunts and pleas between wretched moans of agony. The pain is blinding and intense beyond words. “Oh, oh my- aah, mm… This is fucking heavenly. How does it feel to be our little cocksleeve, kitten?” The War Master groans as he pounds into your pussy erratically. Responded with a fearful mixture of a shriek and a gasp, you can’t muster a single coherent thought anymore. It’s hard to struggle against their bodies as they had you perfectly trapped beneath them with a dead grip. Every single moment you thought it couldn't get any worse and time and time again you were proven wrong as the pain and humiliation reached new heights. If only your captors have an ounce of chivalry that runs deep in the people of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.... As your eyes slid involuntarily closed, you are sure that you won’t survive this night. Tears silently roll down your cheeks as you plead to Goddess Sothis for a merciful swift death instead of this degradation, deep down in the back of your mind.

Mind hanging somewhere between conscious and not, you discerned a clicking sound over moans and lewd squelches in the air. It must have been wishful thinking. An illusion to ease the pain. It couldn’t really have been... the set of keys clinking outside? The sound from the lock was more audible this time and your eyes perk up involuntarily. Oh my God. Metal door flew off its hinges and large dark purple flames burst forth into the room, hitting the man above you in a blinding flash. A blue-haired man hit both of your captors, dragging them off of your limp body and slammed the men onto the floor. Unintelligible yelling filled the small room as weapons clashing, loud shouts, and several footsteps filled the room. You lost all sense of what was happening and how fast.

Suddenly gloved hands glide and cover you with a black and maroon cloak. “Repugnant people.” That voice... sounds like Hubert’s? Those words were filled with such revulsion and animosity, stark contrast with the gentleness on his fingers. He handled you as if you were made of glass and could shatter with even the slightest pressure. Suddenly Death Spike T rains over those perverts, a huge Bolganone follows and burns them to their demise. It was a true depiction of... gruesome death. Caspar? Ferdinand? Hubert? And that Bolganone... Dorothea’s? Is it.... Black Eagles Strike Force? This feels like a dream. It must be.

“I’m so sorry,” Dorothea whispers as she sits beside you, gently wipes the blood on your face and mixtures of liquids on your body. You can hear her sniffles between never ending apologies. “I-I’ll help you get dressed, okay?” Edelgard and Professor Byleth follows behind her, Aymr and Sword of Creator in their hands. Professor notices a shredded robe soaked in crimson on the floor, then gives their cloak to you. Ever so gentleman, Hubert and Caspar (he did after Dorothea glaring daggers at him) averts their gazes away as Dorothea and Edelgard bundle you up in layers upon layers of Hubert and Professor’s cloaks. “Thank you,” you blubbered out. Dorothea holds you tight against her own chest through every sob, every gasp, one hand resting gently at the back of your head. Bernadetta and Ferdinand come out from another dungeon cell with shock on their faces, then call for other Black Eagles Strike Force. “We need some urgent medical care.” Petra, and Lindhardt come from the hallway shortly after, their faces full of concern.

“We are sorry for taking so long, (Y/N). So many dead ends and misleading information. It’s almost impossible to pinpoint this dungeon,” Professor said. As gently as they can, they lift your head and place it on their lap before they help to clean and tend to your wounds with Lindhardt. Caspar, Ferdinand, and Hubert gasp when they see your nearly unconscious bloody form. Edelgard blanches when she sees your limp leg that bends at an odd angle. Up close, she can see the frightening state your fingers are in. She feels like throwing up when she realizes that they're mostly broken. Bernadetta keeps on apologizing to you profusely as Lindhardt is doing his best to heal you. It is clear as day that his face turns as pale as sheets when he sees blood keep on oozing from your abdomen, growing into a puddle of blood around you.

“Cease your worry, (Y/N). We have wiped out all of those that were torturing and giving you pain.” Edelgard’s reddened eyes glower at the burnt remnants of your captors. “We miss you dearly, our friend. Black Eagles have been taken you for granted, not knowing what we had until you were not there.” Her grasps feel warm on your cold ones. A single tear falls from her eye.

“Never... thought that everyone is willing to... c-come for me.....” your chest feels like it’s burning as you cough blood, voice small and hoarse, eyes flutter open a moment later. “Please r-rest assured.... I... d-didn't...tell them anything...” you croaked with the remnant energy you had. Your breathing had turned raspy long, blood flowed out of your wound like water out of a fountain on the marketplace. Sweat glistening on your brow as you shiver. “Of course we’d come. I-I... apologize for our poor..... tre... ment.. and co.... ulder....” Your can barely see the hurt and regret in Edelgard’s lilac eyes or make out of her words. You can hear your name being called, and although you want to answer, this time darkness claims you first. Footsteps sound and shouts are heard, but the world disappears as black spots dancing in your vision, consciousness faded into nothingness.

---

Sunlight streamed through the windows and highlighted the dust that floated through the air, the motes dancing like glowing glitter in the natural air currents of your quarters. It’s been three weeks since Black Eagles rescued you. Thanks to Lindhardt and Manuela, your leg is doing better now. They haven’t removed the bandage and cast though. It isn’t fully healed yet, but dragging it for a short walk is manageable now. Of course you’ll get an earful when someone sees you do that, though. Gaping maw of large gash on your abdomen had been reduced to a long, red line that criss-cross over old pink and white scars on your chest and abdomen from the torture. Several bruises of black and blue adorned your chest, but the broken ribs have recovered nicely. They still feel tender to the touch.

“(Y/N). Good afternoon.” There is a gentle knock at your door, and a deep baritone voice can be heard from the other side. That voice... Hubert? Fastening your nightgown, you make your way slowly to open it. Leg unsteady from weeks of disuse, you stumble as your damaged leg gives up on you when you turn the knob. “Don’t exert yourself.” Hubert hums, his cat-like eyes watching you for a moment before closing the door. Slender hands sliding to lift you gently, pulling you flush against him. He lays you on your bed carefully, then pulls a chair to sit in front of you.

To be honest, it is kind of enjoyable to have all of the Black Eagles visiting you in turn everyday since you regained your consciousness. Surprisingly, Hubert is the most frequent visitor. He may look intimidating but actually he feels like a parental figure to you. Hubert is like a dad of Black Eagles. But of course he’ll get upset if you tell him so.

“How do I get through that thick skull of yours? I can’t grasp the reason of why you keep on pushing yourself to maintain those weapons, horses, and pegasi. Especially with those bandages.” Pinching his nose bridge, Hubert points at your bad leg with menacing glare. It’s downright terrifying!

“Uh... it became a habit?” Fiddling with your hands, you try your best to look in his eyes. “How did you know, Hubert?”. He sighs and produces minutes of meeting from his inner cloak then hands it to you. Those papers are tied neatly with several detailed highlights and marks on it. Hubert’s immaculate penmanship makes it easier to read and understand. He even writes some little notes for you on here and there. How thoughtful of him.

“I am always watching over you, (Y/N). Now... You have Ferdinand’s gratitude for helping him with his weapon collections. Bernadetta always stalks me like a vulture to ask me to give you those embroideries as her token of appreciation from taking care of her horse. And... you have Petra and mine.... For looking out the pegasi.” Your eyes widened when Hubert’s hand fluttered on your shoulder gingerly, a genuine smile dancing on his lips. Is he.. trying to pat you? Sadly that smile dissipates quickly when he catches you looking at him with doe-eyes.

 “...Pardon my intrusion. I didn’t mean to....” Hubert pulls his hand in a flash as if he’d been scalded from the touch. You knew what he meant. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable like that... perverts that did such lecherous things to you. He takes a step back and turns his gaze away. “I cannot tell you how sorry I really am. I have failed to protect you.”

Smiling bitterly, you reach for Hubert’s hand and feel it goes stiff when you grasp them softly. You can sense his entire body tensing and stiff as a board. “It’s not your fault, Hubert. And... Thank you for your cloak on that day. For the first time... I felt warm and safe. I can’t thank you enough for saving me. Still, those people are right. I have committed treason against my own homeland and I’m the lowest. I... have nowhere else to go. My father tried to sell my hands off in marriage to the nobles that sought my Crest. Those who would... offer the highest dowry or land to him. I’m nothing but a pawn for him to use.” Tears glisten in your eyes as your knuckles turn white from grabbing your sheets. “That’s why I will do anything to help Edelgard to make a better Fódlan without an unjust Crest system. To put an end to all of this mess.”

Hubert gives you a light squeeze on your shoulder and a sincere smile. It was brief, almost non-existent but you are sure that it was there? Or is it just your imagination?

“We must fight to preserve what makes us human. Yes. It is our humanity that pushes us to step up and take the lead should the need arise. Fight for what you believe.” Produces a fine black silk handkerchief, he hands it to you. There’s a delicate embroidery of silver threads with his name on it. “You’re too kind, Hubert. I have so much to learn.”

“.... I’m glad you have joined Black Eagles. We will fight together and fulfill Emperor Edelgard’s ambitions to unveil a brighter future. Rest assured, Black Eagles won’t leave you. We would not ever do that. And you are not a burden, (Y/N).”

“How did you—!!?”

Exhaling sharply, Hubert gaze over the ceiling and closes his eyes as if pondering something. “When you were unconscious, you keep mumbling words like ‘No, don’t leave me alone, not again, please...’, ‘I will do my best, I promise I won’t be a burden.’, or ‘I didn’t tell them anything about the ambush plan ‘as Caspar and Ferdinand loaded you into a wagon that we brought to treat and get you safe to travel back here. It was....” His words died off when Hubert glanced at your quiet dejected form, head hung low with sadness and embarrassment. Clutching a hand over your chest, you try to chase away the bile that is threatening to rise in your throat. “Concussion, bruised ribs, broken leg and fingers, massive blood loss, and infected wounds. Things were bleak those two weeks. Dorothea almost lost it when Lindhardt told us that you may not be able to make it. She felt guilty tremendously because you saved her.”

“I will do it again in a heartbeat.”

“Just like how you who care for Black Eagles deeply, we do as well. Don’t be so reckless.” Hubert shakes his head, placing a hand on his forehead and hoping he could summon an insurmountable amount of patience. He would need it for this conversation. Folding his hands, Hubert’s imposing figure is looming over you. Now that he is closer, you can see visible darker circles beneath his chartreuse eyes. It was much darker than last month’s. Perhaps it’s true. Despite his frightening exterior, he does care for you a lot. “(Y/N),” he growls, "You have grown too comfortable with your misbehaviour. Risking your life to protect others is not the wisest thing to do. Perhaps that requires some proper rectifying. Not to mention that taking care of everything while neglecting your sleep for late training won’t be good for your injuries. Schedule a regular rest break here and there.”

“But... Is it okay? Do I deserve this? Can I? To have somewhere that I can belong, even after everything that I—"

“Perish that thought.” Hubert rose to his feet indignantly, voice filled with anger when he admonished you. The chair falls behind from sudden movement. “No one can choose their birthplace but you have my utmost respect for your loyalty towards the Empire. I mean it. If I don’t, I won’t bother to give you those detailed reports.”

Jaw clenched, you look into Hubert’s eyes - not exactly ashamed, but something. Warm and fuzzy feeling bubbling in your heart. It feels like a huge weight on your shoulders has been lifted. Cloud of doubts had been cast away. So that’s why Hubert always gives you his own handwritten notes. You have earned Black Eagles Strike Force trust. And his trust. Hubert laughs when you beam a smile at him cheerfully. Not a scary laugh, but a heartfelt one. “Looking forward to seeing you back at us when you're ready. Caspar will be glad to have you as a sparring partner. Dorothea, Bernadetta, and Professor do miss your light-hearted small chattering. Lindhardt will have a field day if he gets to be lazy and take care of one less patient. Petra and Ferdinand are eager to show you their gratitude for helping them a lot. And... Lady Edelgard would love to get to know you better. She wants to enjoy a cup of tea with you.” Hubert pauses and smirks, pronouncing next words carefully as if he is testing the waters. “But I know you are more into coffee, (Y/N).”

“Hubert, are you... a stalker?” You scoff at him with a deadpan expression. Yeah, nobody should know that coffee runs deep in your veins. Especially since you brew them in your quarters secretly every night to keep you awake. There’s nothing that eludes his watchful eyes.

“What a crude language. Let’s just say... You have piqued my interest, (Y/N). And as a fellow avid coffee drinker, it would be my pleasure to have your company. Set a time and I will join you.” You chuckle at his witty remarks. But yeah... it will be a nice change of pace. It must be fun to have someone to enjoy a cup of coffee with.

“A perfect coffee time. I am looking forward to it, Hubert.”

“Have a speedy recovery then, (Y/N). Black Eagles really miss you. And I do, as well.”

“So you can keep tabs on me like usual?”

“... Yes. Or in your words, it became a habit.” Rolling your eyes at his remark, Hubert clears his throat and thanks to the sun reflecting against his pale skin, you are able to see a fierce blush dust his cheeks. “You’re staring,” He said softly. “but to answer your question,” he glanced over the sky through the window then back to your smiling face, with a somber look on his own as he spoke, “Yes, it’s better than watching you dying because I let my guard down. You almost died because of my failure. Days get dull without your annoying good morning and idle prattle.”

But before I would finish what I was trying to tell her, she would taper off and then dismiss herself quickly, or would just stall and deny having anything more to say if I tried to prompt her to elaborate.

I can tell that something is bothering her mind. Has she had a change of heart—regarding our relationship?

I have failed her once and I can not afford another. I will never let her come to harm again. Had I chosen to protect her when the Knights of Seiros ambushed the monastery, things may turn out to be different but I would never leave Lady Edelgard in such forbidding circumstances.

If only I had another life to give…

(Y/N) barely touches her food and spends most of her time resting in her quarters these days. I have no doubt (Y/N) has skipped her meal twice now.

I have had enough.

Such execrable behavior must not be tolerated for someone in recovery, thus I decide to rebuke her. I knew beyond a reasonable doubt that (Y/N) will get upset but I can not let her health dwindle further.

Before I realize I have arrived in front of (Y/N)’s quarters door. I am about to knock when I hear (Y/N) and a man’s voice from a distance. With a flick of my fingers I warp behind nearby trees and decide to watch them strolling across the lake pier.

“How can you fall for him, (Y/N)? Hubert. Hubert… He is awful!”

"Hmm, yeah. Hubert can be annoying sometimes. I have lost count on how many times he tried to poison me back then, Fernie.”

“Poison?!”

“No harm done. Do not fret, Fernie. Hubert’s actually not that bad.”

“But poisons, he….!!”

“Strong. Bitter. Sweet. Odorless. The faint taste of citrus and almond…. I am immune to them. All kinds of poisons.”

“Pardon? How come? W-wait. There’s only one house that is capable of such a thing. Are you…?!”Echoes of Ferdinand’s loud voice pierces through the silent night. Their footsteps are coming to halt when (Y/N) stops and watches the bleak sky solemnly.

“Yes, I am, Fernie. I am well aware you have realized that fact by now. Millions of deadly chemicals, toxins, venom, and toxics—so do their antidotes, cures, and remedies are produced by my house. We were the one who provided them in the Empire. Or should I daresay.... to House Vestra. In the past. Does this ring a bell with you?”

“Then you are…!!”

My heart sinks when I watch (Y/N)’s desolate countenance. A far cry between her longing gaze and sorrowful smile.

Perhaps I will not find this conversation to my liking.

“My house is long gone and I am the last survivor now. But I hold no bad blood towards anyone—not even Caspar, you, nor Hubert, Fernie. Not anymore. All of you are precious to me.”

“(Y/N)…. My Father had….”

“No need to pity me, Fernie. And yes. I had told Caspar and Hubert the same things as well.”

“…. B-but…. Ah… If you say so…” 

Ferdinand sputters for a moment, then his eyes grow wide with another realization. “Hubert. But, why do you choose Hubert, though? I mean, of all people. Despite his animosity and suspicion towards you. I mean no ill but… it was Marquis Vestra who…. Slaughtered your…….”

There was a beat, and neither met the other's gaze. I can almost hear the gears grinding in Ferdinand’s head on this breezy night. The leaves make a rustling sound when the wind blows as he grows more uncomfortable at his own question.

“I do not fully understand either. It’s almost like there’s something about Hubert that always makes me drawn to him. Beneath his sinister look, Hubert is a fastidious, genuine, warm, kind, and loving man. He is one of the most wonderful people I have ever known. He brought colors to my dull and lonely world. But let’s keep this off the record from him, yes? That prick would laugh at me if he heard it.”

Ferdinand stifles a laugh and nods with a reassuring smile. “It’s a promise, then.”

A serene, loving smile dances over (Y/N)’s lips as she chimes about her first impression of me and our memories. Her usual distant look melts into something warmer and softer as she watches over the lake.

“To have you by his side… Hubert sure is the luckiest man alive in the whole Fódlan, (Y/N). Beneath your pouts and remarks I can feel your sincere adoration for him.”

(Y/N) only shrugs and gazes to the night sky.

Am I? Maybe Ferdinand has a point there. My chest feels tight when (Y/N) smiles at Ferdinand. It takes all of my composure to not to stride there and embrace her away.

“Don’t say it out loud Fernie. You promised that it will stay between us.”

“.... If you say so. Did you know? Hubert was the one who took a hold of my horse and rushed you to the Infirmary—on Edelgard and Professor’s insistence. You were so cold and unresponsive. Blood keeps on pouring from your mouth and gruesome wounds. Your broken leg was swollen and oddly shaped. We won but at what cost? Black Eagles Strike Force were so distraught and crestfallen when you were unconscious. I wish not to experience such a perilous tragedy ever again.”

A heavy silence fills the atmosphere before Ferdinand takes a shuddering breath and continues.

“Hubert is stoic and unreadable. He always has. But he was not when you passed out. After being with Hubert for so long, I can understand him beneath his standoffish façade. Trust me, I do—Hubert was in a pensive mood, pacing himself restlessly around the infirmary when Linhardt told him you may not make it. You lost a lot of blood and were in a precarious shape, (Y/N). Maybe Hubert kept on blaming himself.”

“For real? That’s kind of…..”

“Yes. Hubert told me about your…. condition to me. You must not exert and endanger your life. Hubert may never show it to you but as much as I hate to say this, I can assure you that he cares, no, loves you a great deal and wishes no harm to ever befall you.”

“…..”

“(Y/N)?”

“…….”

Ferdinand crouches down, lowering himself to (Y/N)’s eye level and gently tucking her hair behind her ears. I find them quite amusing, how Ferdinand treats (Y/N) like his little sister. His amber eyes pour over her with genuine care.

“What’s been going on with you recently, (Y/N)?” Ferdinand asks softly, almost to himself. “I can tell that something is bothering you, (Y/N). Here, look at me. Is there something tormenting your mind?”

“Don't worry about me, Fernie. I'm fine.”

“Dark circles beneath your eyes are telling me otherwise. I mean, you were pretty distracted these days. I know you are still recovering and spend most of your time recuperating. But you look paler and paler day by day.”

“…. Fernie….”

“There, there. Ferdinand von Aegir got your back. What’s ailing you my dearest little sister? We can talk about it if you want to.”

My blood boils when I watch Ferdinand hug and rub his hand over her back gently. I know he is trying to do his best to placate (Y/N) platonically. Yet, still…

(Y/N) looks uneasy as she keeps on glancing around between Ferdinand and the fishes in the lake. After a long pause she sighs and grabs the hem of her clothes then speaks “… The truth is…. Hubert always plague me. My old nightmares—they always come back at full force whenever I try to close my eyes these days. Million times. Condescending smirk, cold gloved hands on my neck, growing pool of my blood. No matter how fast I run, Hubert always gets to me. I can feel my life seeping out of my body when he chokes me and sinks his blade on my chest. I know he will never do those things to me. Hubert is not his Father. Yet, yet…..”

My world shattered when I heard her. I am just a swirl of emotions and thoughts at (Y/N)’s revelations. Even the gargantuan black clouds above, camouflaged with the ever converging, caliginous sky that surrounded us can bear comparison with whirling emotions inside my chest. Maybe I should go back to my own quarters and leave them to their own devices—I was about to turn on my heels when Ferdinand sighs.

“Have you tried to talk about it with Hubert?”

“…..”

“You should probably consider discussing this matter further with him or it will put strains on your relationship. Hubert might not be a man of patience but when it comes to you, he can be,” Ferdinand pauses and pats her head softly. “Hubert is rather soft on you, you know?”

“Are you sure? I am in two minds and still thinking about whether that's the right thing to do.” (Y/N)’s voice is so quiet as her usual distant look coming back to her expression, drowning in her own world. “He might scoff or laugh at it.”

“No. You should stop thinking like that (Y/N). Being honest with each other is important in a relationship, (Y/N). You should trust him more.”

“Fernie….”

“Both of you and Hubert are precious friends whom I cherish dearly. It’s truly a joy to behold to watch Hubert’s usual sinister look melt away slightly when you are beside him. I’m delighted to see him find his happiness with you.” Cheerfulness makes Ferdinand’s amber eyes glimmer when he folds his arms and smiles. “Most people find Hubert to be menacing and ominous. Only few dare to approach Hubert—and when they do, ulterior motives and dirty plans always swam their mind. Yet, you hold him in a special place in your heart with pure love and adoration despite your past and traumas. Hubert may not show it but I am sure he is hurt if you keep on avoiding him like these days.”

“……”

“I just don't want you to suffer. I won’t let Hubert harm you, not even in your dreams. Does he... ever hurt you?”

Suddenly Ferdinand rises and gasps as if lightning just strikes his shoulders. “W-wait. Did Hubert f-force you to do that...?"

“Fernie!! Hubert would never do such a thing! It was my own free will.”

That damned prime minister’s son. What I would not give to stop the river of filth flowing out of his mouth.

“Besides, Hubert is very affectionate and gentle behind closed doors. But sometimes he is not when I irked his ire. Still, he always asks for my consent and it makes me feel comfortable. Hubert doesn't like to share, if you get my meaning.” 

Heat rises to my cheeks as (Y/N) keeps on praising me with a beaming smile and cheerful voice. What is going on inside her head? Each compliment makes Ferdinand flinch harder and harder.

“Gross! So gross!! Thinking about Hubert and my sweet little (Y/N) like that is just an absolutely disgusting thought, please don't share more of that. I'd like to keep my dinner down.” 

(Y/N)’s melodious laugh fills the evening with joy. Happiness spreads through her like a warm light and her smile makes the stars look like they are not sparkling. 

"No, I... All jokes aside, if you ever need help or anything. Anything. Call me, okay? I can't do much, not against that poisonous snake Hubert but I'll do whatever I can. Never let him bite or kiss you! I don’t want to lose you to his venomous fangs!”

"Fortunately I am immune to poisons and—actually Hubert is… Uhm… Magnificent at them both. He always manages to find a way to leave me breathless, in a good way. But… Thanks, Fernie. It's the same for you, you know. If you ever need a hand, you know where to find me.”

I know (Y/N) is feeling much better now. But must she clasps her hands on Ferdinand’s and giggling with her angelic face? My hands are eager to shoot Dark Spikes at the long haired male now.

“You don’t have to keep everything to yourself. It is getting colder here and I would hate it if you catch a cold. Shall I carry you back to your quarters, (Y/N)? Linhardt told me to not let you strain your leg too much.”

“I’ll manage just fine on my own,” she drawls and tries to prove her words by sprinting a bit but tumbles slightly. Damn. A slight frown passes her lips but I can tell (Y/N) is doing her best to not make Ferdinand worry. She only waves her hand and gives Ferdinand a sheepish smile when he lowers himself to check on her. “On second thought, I wouldn’t mind if you lend me a hand, Fernie.”

A few gray thin clouds linger in the soft moonlight and the moon is reflected on the lake. Ferdinand gives (Y/N) a piggyback ride into the main building, and doesn't put her down even when they are in the hallway. The night is serene save from Ferdinand’s boots soft thud. There is something so peaceful about the way the still waters reflect their shadows.

“I’m glad I have you to support me when things go rough, Fernie. You have my gratitude.” Anguish strikes my chest when I see her tighten her hug on Ferdinand’s shoulder. I know (Y/N) likes him in a platonic way, yet… What is this uneasy feeling in my chest?

“Would you let me get you something to eat as well? I could leave them on your desk if you want.”

(Y/N)’s brow dips but she doesn’t ask how even Ferdinand managed to know the palpable fact. She schools her face back into its usual soft and gentle persona then hums, “Mhmm… I’ll pass,” then smiles sweetly.

Ferdinand sighs and lowers (Y/N) gently in front of her quarters door. “But you have skipped breakfast and lunch today,” he said finally.

Adorable pout adorns (Y/N)’s lips as she puts her hands on her hips and rolls her eyes at Ferdinand. “Almost. You almost sound like Hubert the worried mother hen.” Nice. That means (Y/N) is my chick now. 

“Such a caustic insult would damage my noble reputation. While I have to agree regarding his concern about your misbehavior, I am Ferdinand von Aegir and no one would be able to imitate me. Not even Hubert von Vestra ”

An exasperated sigh escapes from (Y/N) at Ferdinand’s stupid remark. Great—because if she doesn’t, I will. His nonsense is tiresome. Ferdinand sure loves to run off his mouth but he did make some good advice nevertheless. Maybe I should send my personal thanks to him for cheering (Y/N) later.

“My bed is calling for me, Fernie. I should heed to its call and get more rest. Eating is not at the top of my list. I will never hear the end of Hubert’s rambling if he catches wind about this—He’s like a worried mom most of the time.”

Her words are breathy from laughter but I can feel slight tiredness in it. (Y/N)’s grip on her door handle tightens and she dips her chin slightly as she looks at Ferdinand petulantly, “You may want to go away before Hubert finds you here. He can be a bit territorial and watching him go ballistic on you is the last thing I want, Fernie.” The words come out as mischievous.

“I can handle whatever nastiness Hubert throws at me, and give it back ten times. I promise you, I'll be fine, (Y/N).”

“Silly Fernie.”

“Alright. I will be on my way, then. A last check on my horse will be perfect to end my day. Here, I know this meager raisin buns might not be much but you should help yourself. I would be devastated if your health worsened or something bad happened to you. Please take care, (Y/N).”

Disappointment is prominent in Ferdinand's tone when (Y/N) refuses to eat—but falters when Ferdinand gives her pleading puppy eyes. It’s almost comical to see how she grumbles a bit with puffy cheeks (from the buns) and Ferdinand picks her up to squish her out of joy.

---

Bloody images of your parents bodies and your death plaguing your sleep making you wake in the same state, clammy skin and pale-cheeked. The chilling air and the cool beams of the moon did nothing to ease your frantic breathing.

Most mornings you were the first to awake at dawn. Sometimes having been jolted awake mere hours after falling into the depths of unconsciousness. Tendrils of madness sliding and coiling round your mind twisting your perception, warping your sight and sound—especially when Hubert shows up. It's getting harder and harder to resist the urge to brandish your concealed weapon to protect yourself from him out of instinct. Especially when the dark mage decides to sneak on you.

Most afternoons and nights you managed to sleep, but none of them were peaceful.

The feeling of discomfort became your safety, feeling uncomfortable and nauseous when paranoia tried to worm its way into your skull. Slowly the nights grew worse. On a good night you got a few sickening nightmares, on others the images refused to fade until daybreak, consciousness doing nothing to ward off the nightmares. You knew the dark circles beneath your eyes had grown, giving the appearance of a sunken gaze to whoever tried to look.

A suffocating feeling coils your throat when you take in a deep breath, closing your eyes momentarily, releasing it and reopening them. You are trying to ignore the buzzing that is surfacing in your ears, circling your mind, pounding at your skull.

Ferdinand is right. Avoiding Hubert won’t chase your nightmares away and you can’t do this forever. You knew sleep wouldn’t find you and you need to do something about it. After changing into a more comfortable nightgown you wander to Hubert’s quarters to face him head on. You can see a faint glow from his candlelight peeking underneath the door.

“Hubert, do you happen to have any spare time?”

After a brief pause, the door glows in purplish hue and a ward comes off without much resistance. Hubert rises from his desk in a rush and ushers you in. Questioning looks glazed over his eyes as his gloved hand stays on the door handle.

“Another sleepless night?”

Sharp as ever.

Heavy silence fills the room after Hubert closes the door quietly at your consent. All of the words that transpired in your mind evaporate away just like morning dew. You are busy mentally cursing at your blank state of mind when Hubert pulls his chair and asks you to sit.

“You have been awfully distant lately. A little more awkward than usual. Apparently I was under the impression you are avoiding me with ardor.” He broached quietly, making your hands release the fabric of your gown, choosing to settle in your lap. “What brings you here?” 

“Just—my mind’s a little…full, at the moment,” you kept your eyes on your palms.

Hubert shifts outside of your vision, slowly placing his hand atop both of yours, giving you a chance to pull away. “You can talk to me if you want to,” his thumb rubbed in soft sways over your skin, the touch so delicate you nearly caved.

“Huey….”

His thumb continued its soothing circles, “This is about your nightmare, isn’t it?” He questioned, though you were sure he had already figured it out—as expected from the Adrestian Empire’s shadow. So you nodded. His hand wrapped around one of yours, secure but not tight. Your hand looks tiny compared to his large one. “What about it?” He encouraged, head tilted, trying to catch your gaze.

You swallow heavily and take a deep breath several times. “I died. Million times. Destruction and ruin laid around me. Your devilish smirk and a blood slicked dagger. The only sound surrounding us was the crackling of dying flames as even the roaring inferno seemed to die in the wasteland of what used to be my house. No matter how fast I run or retaliate, you always have your way to strangle me off of the ground from the force and carve the blade through my chest.” Each word felt like lead and you suddenly became aware of his arms that were still holding onto you, of your hands that were resting on his broad chest. “Most of the time your face overlaps with Marquis Vestra. I know you are not your Father. Yet, yet….”

There’s a heavy silence. No laugh, smirk, nor condescending words from Hubert. How unlikely. Only your sobs and his breathing fills the room. Wet stains from your tears dampen his clothes but Hubert pays it no mind.

“I do not know what to say right now and my words probably will not make it hurt any less, but I just want you to know I care and I am here for you. I am well aware of the atrocities that House Vestra has inflicted and my past animosity towards you. I am sorry that I…. caused you hurt.” He breathed, forehead lowering to yours and you were sure that if he hadn’t heard your breath hitch, he would have felt it.

Carefully, as though he thought you would break with a misplaced breath, his hand ghosts above your cheek. His gloves were gone, allowing his calloused fingers to meet your skin. It’s extremely rare to watch Hubert’s emotion laid bare and raw.

“Once.” Your murmur is faint.

“Hmmm?”

“I tried it for once. To stop myself from running away and let you take my life in my dream,” you whisper, eyes on his. The hazy moonlight turns the flecks in his eye the color of gold. “Instead of the hellish pain, my legs buckle and shatter beneath me. Crumbling away and leaving me drowning in a pool of my own blood. Your expression was unreadable, Huey. I kept on floating in a sea of darkness but on the edge of my consciousness, I saw my parents and they waved to me. My Father and Mother are eager to pick me up to go home with them. I miss them. I miss them dearly.... Perhaps if I go with th—” 

“Foolish!!"

With an ominous rumbling, Hubert pulls you to his chest, squeezing you with all his might. “Perish the thought. Do not ever think like that!” he mutters furiously under his breath. You can feel his body shaking with rage.

Tinge of pain shots from your shoulder from how tight Hubert embraces you in vice grip as if you are going to vanish if he doesn’t. You didn’t exactly want to show how he jostled your scar but the hiss you let out was quite loud. Hubert pulls back as if he is burned, guilt heavy on his features.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” your tone is barely convincing to your own ears, pained and rather forced. 

“But you very nearly were not.” Every word is grounded between Hubert’s clenched teeth. Pale moonlight illuminates Hubert’s shaking shoulders and balled fists. Seeing him so distraught, so broken is heartbreaking.

“Seizure after seizure—we have lost count on how many times you have vomited blood even after your injuries are healed. Linhardt got really squeamish and Caspar had to throw a bucket of water at to keep him awake.” 

You were cold and still. Eerily still. Your face was slack—each breathing got even shallower and slower. Ferdinand and Dorothea dread to watch your worsening condition. Had Mercedes and Marianne did not help, you would be.....”

“Huey…” You mumbled, not quite sure what tone to take. 

“You are still alive, living, breathing, in my arms. If something were to happen to you, I.....” he breathed, barely audible.

You could feel the shape of his words against your mouth, feel how close he is. Sadly things take a turn for the worst. Loud rumble comes from your tummy—something akin to lion’s roar. What a shame.

“You have to eat. Don't expect me to beg you with disgusting teary eyes like Ferdinand.”

Oh. Sneaky rat as ever.

“Please don’t. I can’t even start to imagine what kind of blasphemy and atrocity you would start if you try to do it, Hubert. Maybe you should use it for Miss Edelgard inste—ah!!!”

Oh damned Von Vestra. Hubert picks you up under your arms and scrutinizes you—as if you were a little kitten. Hubert starts to sway you gently and looks straight to your eyes with mirth. It’s awfully high here on his arms. A bit terrifying, to be honest.

"I feel like you are about to carry me by the scruff of my neck like a puppy but you pick me up like a toddler instead."

“You get lighter,” Hubert scowls at you. “I was going to have you punished for disobeying me but it looks like your frail health got to you first. And where did that get you?” Hubert’s words may be harsh but you can feel his deep concern and anguish beneath them.

A slight smirk twists the corners of your mouth while his brow narrowed. You lifted your brow in question, “Is it a problem, Huey?”

The nickname rolled off your tongue easily as his scowl deepened. “You should eat and get more sleep,” he snapped, though there was a silent joy in his eye.

Does he enjoy this moment as well?

Maybe he does. Hubert really misses your smart mouth but never he would admit it out loud. There is no greater joy than having you by his side.

The two of you stay still for a moment and take each other in. How long has it been since you felt Hubert’s warmth? This is comfortable. Too comfortable. These constant swaying is nostalgic and lulling—similar to your Father’s way to put you to sleep. Gentleness beyond compare. You want to melt into it. You want to forget about the nightmare and have Hubert touch you, hug you.

“Would you indulge my curiosity?” he hums with amusement as your eyes droop with drowsiness.

“Mmhm?”

“You did say you always try to run away from me in your nightmares. Have you ever tried to retaliate and…” he trails.

“I won’t. I will never try to kill you, Huey. Not even in my nightmares.” Your answer is short and clipped. Straightforward without any hesitation.

“Why?”

“…. Isn’t the answer obvious?”

“How naïve.” Hubert scoffs, but he rises you higher and looks up to you intently. Unyielding and scornful. Hubert sure lives up to his name—bright mind—but he can be slow at times. How could you bring yourself to take his life? Things may have been different five years ago. But now….

A soft bump on your head startles you from the thoughts swirling through your mind. Hubert sure has a hard head that suits his stubbornness perfectly. That head-butt hurts a bit. What a meanie.

“Thinking out loud?” 

“Not anymore, thanks to your evil head assault.”

Derisive laughter emits from Hubert. A hint of a smile - or a smirk, or something like that - curled his lips. Though he is trying to hide it, the corners of his mouth are twitching upwards along with his brow. Hubert bites into his bottom lip, trying to contain his grin as his eyes study your reddish forehead. What a prick. Maybe this is a nice opportunity to give him a taste of his own medicine.

“Huey.”

“Yes?”

“Could you get me higher, please?”

Detecting Hubert’s mood seems impossible. At least he is gentle as he elevates you higher than his face. 

“This is not half bad. It’s entertaining to be able to watch you from above like this, Huey. You’re adorable. And your threats are even more so. I can get used to this. Must be incredible to be as tall as you and get to enjoy all of these nice views,” you beam, looking him up and down. Hubert looks bored. But he also avoids eye contact. “Your chartreuse eyes are stunning. They remind me of apples.”

“I would prefer it if we grab something else for you to eat at the Dining Hall.” 

“Should I confess that you are the…..” you lean to Hubert and gently push away the silky curls of his bangs. 

You smile and touch Hubert's cheek, examining him affectionately. The dark mage flinches when you put a chaste kiss on his usually hidden right eye and whispers, gently nibbling the shell of his ear. “Apple of my eyes, Hubert von Vestra?”

Nice pun.

Hubert’s breath catches and he goes rigid at your words. You almost think he is done for had his ragged breathing doesn’t give away. His usually pale face turns very bright crimson in the moonlight. Even your attempt to gain his attention by waving your hands in front of him turns out to be in vain.

You are about to flick Hubert’s nose when he gulps and releases you of his grip suddenly—leaving you sprawled on his bed.

“Ouch! What was that for?!”

Hubert clutches his chest and takes a few deep breaths. He even coughs several times and swallows huge gulps of water from the jug on his desk in a hurry.

Inhales, exhales. Inhales, exhales. Inhales…. Exhales.

You can only feel sorry for him and pray to Sothis for his health. It would not bode well if you kill Miss Edelgard’s loyal retainer with a heart attack. You are about to pat Hubert’s back when he spins and backs away from you. His glinting eyes never leave yours as he sits on a chair and glaring at you menacingly.

“You’re toying with me,” Hubert hisses.

Your brain stopped working for a second. You don’t know if there is an answer for that. You sincerely don’t want Hubert to feel like this.

Hell, you didn’t mean it like this. 

“Do you feel like that?” you ask, controlling every inch in your body to prevent your frustration from coming through. The sadness buried underneath it was too fragile to think about.

“Most certainly.”

You sigh. Loudly.

“…I’m sorry. I never mean it like that. I should’ve made it more clear…” You stand up from Hubert’s bed and sit down on his lap. Much too amused, you observe the prominent blush on his cheeks. He still doesn’t look at you and he obviously didn’t know what to do with his hands. Hubert had no other choice but to touch your thighs gingerly.

“I thought you were going to mock or berate me for my harrowing nightmare—but you don’t. I am glad to have you by my side and I can’t thank you enough for your genuine concern, kindness, and warmth.”

Hubert is silent as he wraps his trembling arms around you, holding you even closer. "I will do everything in my power to ensure no harm will ever come to you, my love." His touch as gentle as ever, like the slightest move will shatter you completely.

You want to tell him desperately that your nightmare isn’t his fault, but you can’t make yourself speak, instead letting him cradle you closer before he guides you into his bed.

“You’re a good boy, you know?”

No one in their sane mind would call notorious Count Vestra a good boy but he sure is. To you. For you.

Hubert’s jaw dropped slightly. He narrows his eyes at you as if you are crazy. The question caught him off guard, you could tell. Because he finally looks at you, eyes large, pupils dilated.

“I—uhm…” Hubert stammers as he buries you in his blanket haphazardly. “I have to go to the Dining Hall and fix you something to eat. We need something more than raisin buns for you,” he speaks at last, his voice rough, as if he didn’t use it much.

Damn. Nervousness sure gets the best of him. He even blurted the fact he had been eavesdropping on you and Ferdinand earlier.

“I really mean it, Hubert von Vestra.”

You can only hear a choked sound and after a brief pause, a loud bang of his door. Alas. Had Hubert not covered you with his blanket, you may be able to catch a glimpse of his red ears.

Hubert is not the same person he used to be back then in your Academy days. Not anymore. It would be wise to let go of your past and traumas and really move on.

Yes. It is true. Hubert is not his Father and would never bring harm to you regardless of whatever people may think. His grave demeanor and ominous eloquence belie his intentions but you would not have it the other way.

---

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Another nightmare.

Cold sweat beads on your temple as you jolt awake from blood-curdling vivid images. The world turns into different axis around you as you gasp for air.

The last thing you could remember is you fell asleep shortly soundly after Hubert caught you nodding off in the middle of your conversation with him. Lack of sleep, exhaustion, and full stomach—thanks to his dish, Two-Fish Sauté and a glass of milk—made you drowsy.

Your eyes darting around the familiar room. Hubert’s quarters. The room is quiet and dimly lit save from the pouring moonlight from the windows. A small candle on his desk has been doused and stowed neatly above his stack of books.

A cough rattles out of your chest that ends in a sob. It is so pathetic. The light from the window starts to fade as your tears run down like tiny streams, soaking the pillow. 

It’s safe. There is no fire and blood here. It’s just a nightmare and it is not real.

There is a pain in your chest. A pain that seems to pull your heart down and through your innards. You couldn’t breathe. You never felt anything like this.

You swallow. Take in a breath. Release it. Take in another one. Exhale.

You take in gulps of air but eventually, it isn’t enough. It would never be enough. You feel like you are dying.

“Oh, my darling.” A soft voice calls from above, brushing your wet hair away from your forehead. It sounds like Hubert which only makes things worse, knowing your mind is so far gone.

You take in another deep breath, shutting your eyes. Tears prickle at it bitterly.

Your heart pounded in your chest as your mind helplessly reeling in on the feel of the older male’s chest at your back, the heat radiating from him, keeping you warm. And comfortable. Somehow his presence makes you feel less lonely.

“I am here, (Y/N).”

Two strong arms scoop you from underneath the blanket and pull you into a body that feels like home. Your head shoots up, stars filling your vision as you stare at him… Hubert von Vestra. Your eyes finally focus on him but your vision is blurry from tears.

You feel so alone. So lonely. And it breaks Hubert’s heart.

A sob tries to wrack your chest but you hold it down, shoving its head beneath the waters, making sure it dies within you.

Unlike in your nightmares his eyes aren't flooding with menace and atrocity. They are filled with sorrow as he takes in your appearance, his thumb wiping away your tears gingerly.

A care in his eyes that nearly makes you want to bury your face into his chest and let everything out. How had you not seen it? Not seen the softness dancing there, the warmth? How long had you been oblivious to his affections?

Hubert crushes you against him as you give in and cry your heart out, head resting atop of yours as your sobs turn into sniffles. His thumb brushes over your back in soothing circles. “Look, you are safe with me. I promise we will be fine.”

“Hubert…” you croak, your voice is trembling.

He reaches out to touch you again but then you flinch. And that hurt. But Hubert tries to not show it.

“I want to be your strength and support you through your ordeals, (Y/N).” Hubert breathes, leaning closer until his mouth is nearly on yours. The words are slow, almost a whisper. “Your happiness, health, and well-being matters the most and I will endeavor my best to make you safe and comfortable. Do you understand?”

You stare at him with red eyes and red nose.

You could see the sincerity in his stare, and feel his words wrapping around your soul like a safe haven. “Never let such abysmal thoughts take over your mind.”

A small sniffle and nod are your only reply but Hubert is satisfied with it and presses a kiss to the top of your head before he pulls the warm blanket further up over your shoulders and back.

Both of you stay quietly like this for some moments. Hubert’s calming steady heartbeat lulls you and makes you almost shut your eyes, barely able to keep them open in such late hours of the night.

“I know I am far from ideal,” he murmurs so quietly. Hubert lays you back gently on his bed and gazes into you despite the moon behind him casting a shadow over his face. “But I will never let anything take you from me. Not even your sadness and fear.”

“You are perfect just the way you are, Huey.”

Hubert looks at you in surprise as you open up a little, baring a piece of yourself that had taken a while for you to become comfortable around since those nightmare assaults. You shift your eyes to stare into his, searching for anything that might convince you to not do what you are about to. But there are no signs of falsehood and lies; you can only find worry and honesty.

You swallow harshly and move, crawling over to his side. Such overflowing love and patience from Hubert melts your anxiety away when you intertwine your fingers with his hand. You thought he would laugh or berate you—but he didn’t. Not in the slightest.

“You must not exert yourself,” Hubert grunts and brushes stray hair from your eyes. He places a large hand on your cheek, “Suicidal thoughts are extremely dangerous.” His thumb brushes across your cheek to wipe your tears.

“Your warmth and patience means so much to me. Thank you, Huey.” You hear his breath hitches at your words. When you look up at Hubert, you see a tender smile and kind eyes looking back at you.

His eyes widen almost imperceptibly if it isn’t for how close the two of you are resting. and place a chaste kiss “What brought that on?” he asks quietly, eyes dropping to your lips then tearing away back up to your gaze, knowing you had seen where he had looked.

“Hubert. Hubert. My dearest Hubert von Vestra.”

“… You don’t have to call me many times. I can hear you just fine.”

“I understand. Even so, let me call your name, Huey. I want to feel that you and I are alive—not trapped in a world of nightmare,” you breathe and close your eyes, trying to chase away your darkest fear. “We live in a world of war. What if tomorrow never comes?”

In one swift movement, Hubert pulls you closer so you are enveloped in his warm embrace. He cradles you with his arms around your waist as if you are delicate, precious, and must be protected at all costs. 

“You are safe. You are safe with me, (Y/N).” He sighs heavily, then looks at you almost desperately, as if wrestling internally with something. “Whatever enemies we face… Survive. Prevail. Do that and we will witness the birth of a new world together along the sovereign of Black Eagles.”

“It’s assuring to have you here with m—” You can't help but melt when Hubert kisses you affectionately. Your hands disappear beneath his as Hubert searches your eyes for something, anything—giving you time to ponder and run away if you ever wish to. But you won’t. Not anymore.

When you give him a nod, Hubert unloops the straps from your shoulders, allowing your nightgown to slide down to your arms. The silky material pooling at your elbow, revealing the scars on your shoulder that you know are still ingrained deep within.

In front of you, Hubert sucks in a breath as he takes in the brutal scar running to your back, marring the skin with darker jagged lines. “Everyone can make mistakes. So do I. It’s not a time I take joy in remembering. But it’s over; I made it.” You whisper, heart pounding. 

You are about to pull your shift back up when you feel the tips of his fingers graze over the skin there, your spine turning to steel as you practically freeze in place from the intimate touch. Hubert traces over the scars softly, the feeling ticklish.

A heavy weight fills Hubert’s chest as he ghosts his hand over the faint bruises on your ribs. He shut his jaw tight as he half absently traces over the narrow slit of discolored skin on your leg and thin line across it.

“Professor Manuela told me it was a close one. Sometimes it still hurts but I am glad my broken leg healed nicely.”

His touch still torturing your mind at how gentle it is. You swallow. Took in a breath. Release it. Take in another one. Exhale. A slight smile lifts Hubert’s mouth though sorrow still remains in his eyes.

“Disgusted?”

“Never. They are… symbols of when I failed.” Hubert mutters, hands tightening into fists in your lap as his gaze remains downwards. “When I am not strong enough.”

But it doesn’t stay for so long—not when you stifle your laugh. “Nah. I would do it in a heartbeat for Black Eagles Strike Force. Or Miss Edelgard. Or you, Hu—”

“No. Everyone. Needs. You. And me, (Y/N).” Each word is whispered tenderly between reverent kisses on every bruise and scars—worshiping them adoringly.

“I am sorry,” he confides.

You wonder how often people hear the words from Hubert, how rare they are. What they meant. “What for?” You inquired softly, appreciative but confused at his words.

“I do not know…” he breathes, staring into your eyes.

Your lips part slightly as you swallow, eyes flicking away momentarily then returning to him, “It’s okay, at least everyone is safe. Especially Miss Edelgard. That fact alone makes my heart leap with joy.”

In front of Hubert, your breathing almost ceases entirely, stiff and wide-eyed as your mind helplessly zeroes in from his touch on your body. Your breathing becomes shallow and your heart is pounding in your chest as your cheeks heat with nerves, how bare you are.

“H-Huey… What are you doing?”

“Lavish you with ardent endearment so you never feel ashamed of these scars.”

“T-ticklish….”

“Should I stop?”

“I never said that.”

His lips tilt into a cheeky grin at your words, making you huff a short laugh.

“I thought you were going to laugh or mock me for my nightmares and… dark thoughts—but you don’t.”

“You might need to reevaluate how you see me, then.”

“Actually, I have,” you smile, mouth still so near to his own you could feel every breath, every small movement. “I used to think of you as a cold-blooded, heartless person. But the more I get to know you, I know you aren’t. You might look the calm and logical type, but I know your emotions can get the better of you sometimes. But when it comes to me….”

“Stop it right there.”

“You are the perfect juxtaposition between homicidal and compassionate—driven by love and devoti—” Your words come to a halt when Hubert clamps his hand over your mouth out of embarrassment.

It’s rare to catch Hubert losing his composure and letting his bashfulness run amok. Something about his flushed face and annoyed look make your heart sing. Maybe it would be wonderful to tease him more.

You stick your tongue out on a whim, catching against Hubert’s rough finger, his salty skin awakening your senses. A deafening howl pierces the quiet room. It’s amusing to see how fast Hubert backs away like a terrified cat.

You. Can. Get. Used. To. This.

His brows curve ever so slightly, as if he was in pain. You shift so you are once again looking at him fully. A broad smile shines on your lips, “Hubert Catvestra!”

You are sure you hear some doors outside creak from his loud yell. Some faint whispers and curses fly through the hallway but none of them bother to make a fuss out of it.

“I did not expect anything less from your smart mouth, (Y/N),” he fumes after you make sure the hallway is silent and nobody wakes up outside.

Ominous aura emanates from seething Hubert but it doesn’t frighten you at all. He only sighs and tousles your hair when you giggle at him. It is the worst one yet, his heart wrenching so painfully he is sure you would be able to tell.

Goddess, how beautiful your smile is. Carefree, trusting, and jovial unlike these previous weeks. As if he has lifted great burdens from your shoulders. How it makes Hubert breathless that you are showing it to him, giving your vulnerable part of you to him to treasure away.

You peer up slightly to Hubert, bringing the straps back up to cover the scars from his view. But when he grasps your hand in his—the electricity sparks between the two of you. 

“Your enchanting smile…. It has been forever. I am blessed to see it again, my love.” Hubert’s restraint slips as he moves forward imperceptibly, just wanting to cherish this precious moment with you. “There is a void in my heart without your snarky attitude and smart quips, (Y/N). Nothing feels the same when you are away. I have to admit I am growing fond of them.” Hubert murmurs between his passionate kisses.

You look at him when you hear the rawness in Hubert’s voice, eyes flickering to him. “Huey… What is it?” You asked tentatively. His gaze drops to your mouth and your cheeks warm with the intensity, the blatant want.

“I miss you dearly,” he breathed, lips finally pressing to yours. The butterflies that are circling your heart now seemed to be flocking, each wing stroke tip with the softest of dust, making your heart ache. Your fingers tighten slightly in his clothes fabric, desperate for something to ground you, something to hold on to, to keep you from being whisk away on those butterflies wings. Hubert’s soft lips are so intoxicating, so much more caring, the affection having your mind go dizzy.

He pulls away hesitantly, waiting for your reaction. “(Y/N?)”

You, however, push forward, returning your lips to his, making his eyes widen ever so slightly before shutting as he presses back against you. “Yeah… please.”

The soft moonlight is beginning to glow into the back of your head so it is well-timed when Hubert pushes forward, lightly shoving you back into his bed. Your head tilts back as he leans over you, strong arm bracing beside your head as his free hand cups behind your neck, pulling you closer, allowing him to kiss you better; deeper.

It doesn’t help when you bring your own arms to hang round his neck, hands gliding over the muscles of his upper arms, his shoulders, until they lace in his hair, your mouth opening further as your chest brushes against his and a sound rumbles within him.

You pull away, looking at Hubert with heat flushing your cheeks, eyes partially widened. He couldn’t hide the way his pupils expand as he takes in your complexion, lips ever so slightly swollen and hair in disarray.

You know what Hubert wants. And you find yourself yearning that connection, moving for it, desperate to catch it as well. His mouth latched onto yours perfectly, kissing you deeply, in a way that had your arms wrapping around his shoulders, gently pulling him closer as Hubert moved you onto the bed fully, back pressing into the mattress.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs when he pulls back, eyes on your lips, your half lidded eyes. Softness is brimming in his eyes. He leans down and removes your nightgown and panties, now lying bare beneath him.  

He takes a moment to take in the scars that adorn your body. With one hand Hubert supporting himself while the other trails down your body, staring at your collar bones then gliding between your breasts, over your stomach, waist, inner thighs, and to your legs—worshiping every scars reverently with his fingers and trail of kisses, whispering ‘lovely’, ‘beautiful’, and ‘gorgeous’ on every inch of your body.

“Perfect,” Hubert purrs. His lips connect with your scars in the split of a second and so does his tongue. Hubert is gentle. Even his biting is loving. You pant as he sucks marks on his wake, soothing each one with his tongue afterward.

Your mind is already fuzzy with his proximity and the thoughts of what he is going to do. Lost in pure ecstasy, you throw your head back and moan his name quietly. 

Breathing hard you look up through your lashes, reaching up a hand to drag over Hubert’s chest, traveling downwards to the tent in his trousers. Your actions make him flustered and tear his gaze from you. But it sure does spur something in him—Hubert snatches your hand off of him and begins to tear off his clothes, leaving him gloriously naked.

“So greedy. This will be another long, sleepless night for us.”

“I don’t mind. We are night owls, after all.”

Huffing out a laugh, Hubert raises his head, making eye contact with you. You want to capture the moment forever, to keep this image of him tucked away in the back of your mind to think back on in the future. Unusual side of Hubert von Vestra unbeknownst to anyone. Your Huey. Loving and benevolent. Unlike the one that has plagued your nightmare.

“Pulling another all-nighter? But you are in a dire need of sleep.” Hubert moves closer to you.

Out of instinct (and embarrassment) you reach for the blanket to cover yourself—but he tugs the thick fabric and yanks it away.

“Maybe I need someone to tuck me in.”

You pout up with that look you know he can’t refuse, the dark mage smirks down at you, wanting to catch that jutted lip between his teeth. “We can arrange something about that.” A smug look enters Hubert’s eyes.

“And what would it be?”

He only chuckles at your retort and moves back up to you, capturing your lips in a deep open mouthed kiss. You could taste your shared breath, feel the thud of your combined heartbeat as his fingers threading into your hair.

You hadn’t realized how much you had missed Hubert. The solace of being able to lie with him for the shared unity times like this brought. The warmth and unconditional love.

“I am unable to comprehend the correlation between this and sleeping, but… Go ahead, Huey.”

“How could I ever refuse you, (Y/N)?” Hubert whispers as he litters your chest and stomach with soft kisses as he makes his way down your frame, stopping when your hands tangle in his hair, preventing him from dipping between your legs.

“Huey,” you mewl softly.

A small grunt in response.

“Huey,” you call more firmly, but still breathless.

This time a moan.

“Hubert,” you pant, fingers tangling in the inky hair at the back of his neck, guiding him to look at you. “What is it?” He murmurs, grin tipping the corners of his mouth and pleasure roiling at the base of his spine when he sees the desperation in your eyes, the bliss basking there.

For a second you sit there, staring at each other and breathing erratically.

Hubert has never looked more intoxicating. His hair is slightly matted from sweat and mussed from you running your hands through it. His cool, calm, and collected demeanor is gone and replaced with something much hungrier.

“Warm…. You are so warm, Huey. Surrounding me with your love like the softest blanket. This is… way much better than those harrowing nightmares.”

“I am here. I am here, (Y/N). You are safe with me. I will not let any harm nor nightmare befall upon you ever again.”

“I love you, Huey” you softly admit, your words warming his heart. Tears welling on your eyes from his assurance.

“And I love you, (Y/N), more than anything, is all Hubert whispers as he places a soft kiss on the crown of your forehead and wipes your tears with his thumb. Taking his hand, Hubert presses the tip of one of his fingers on your entrance. He pushes a single finger inside, quickly adding another as your moans increase. 

Stretching you out, Hubert curls his fingers, hitting the spot he knew so well inside of you, your climax growing closer and closer as he continues his ministrations. “So tight and tiny for me, sweet girl,” he whispers, entranced by the mesmerizing sight in front of him. By this point in your relationship you had realized how Hubert’s large size next to you turns him on—even he will never admit it out loud. Another mysterious side of him.

Adding a third finger, Hubert sped up and the tightening in your stomach became unbearable as you reached your high. “That is it, let go of my love, I am right here.” Hubert’s words were the last push you needed and your back arch off the mattress as your juices gush over his hand.

Catching your breath, you watched as Hubert stuck his finger in his mouth, sucking your juice off of his fingers, releasing a low moan at the taste. He sure knows how to rile you up. Ugh. How intoxicating. 

“Huey, what are yo—mmph….”

Crawling back up on your body, his lips capture yours, tasting your juices on his tongue. A soft breath leaves your mouth when Hubert breaks off the kiss and smirks at you. He even has the audacity to mock your breathless and flushed face, but kind enough to wipe off the saliva.

“Could you go for more?”

His smile blooms when you give him a short nod and let him part your legs and align himself with you. Biting your lip, you brace yourself for the pain that would be unavoidable with Hubert’s size when you feel him against your heat.

Hubert lets you pull him close, burying your face in the junction of his neck and shoulder as he pushes into you, filling you deliciously. Small pants tumble from your lips as you lightly bite into his shoulder, trying to organize your inhales and exhales. A slight groan comes from the male above you when he feels your teeth grazing his skin.

You let out a shaky breath, “Please,” you murmur, telling him he could move. He pulls nearly all the way back out, then pushes back in slowly, just to make sure you are okay with the stretch. Hubert is more than delighted when your back arch from the pleasure he brings you. His excitement heightens when you move your hips against him, desperate to have him pounding inside of you.

“Look,” he breathes out, his gaze traveling down to see your lower abdomen moving as he fucks into you. Watching the stomach bulge he had created, you truly think you had never seen anything so hot. “Do you see how tiny you are compared to me? Your pussy is so small you can see my length bulging in your stomach.” Hubert almost cums at the sight, but he knows he wants to last longer, to wrench another climax from you before he finishes.

Leaning back, Hubert grabs your legs, throwing them over his shoulder, and reaching a new spot inside of you. “So, so, small under me, so beautiful,” he grunts out as he continues pounding into you. Your legs shake violently as his hand travels down to play with your clit, your climax building.

A loud growl rumbled in his chest as you clamped down on him. Once again Hubert pulls out, until only his head is inside, then slams back in, making your body curl at the immediate pleasure.

Every time Hubert slams into you, his abdomen would hit your clit, the pleasure gathering rapidly in the pit of your stomach. You mewl loudly as Hubert angles his hips into a particular spot and drives his cock deep languidly.

A slight cry slips from your lips at the intense pleasure, your eyes shut tight as you sink your head back into the pillow, arms curl tightly around his powerful shoulders, nails biting into his skin.

“Look at me,” he growls, noting the signs of your high approaching. He cups your cheek in one hand, refusing to slow his pace—just to torture you a little—tilting your face, “I said look at me, (Y/N),” he snarls, devilish delight in the way your body responds to that husky tone, the arousal that spread through his mind.

“Stay with me, just a little more,” the words come out soft despite the tension and you pull Hubert impossibly closer, holding him tightly as that wave crashes down sending you spinning into the depths of pleasure.

Hubert groans when he sees the tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks, male pride shining in his face as well as adoration for you. You pull him down, desperately, mouth pressing against his as the pressure and heat built between your legs, nearing your boiling point.

The two of you moan loudly into the kiss, each of you nearing that seizing point of euphoria, when your minds would go blank and rationality would fade into startling, blinding pleasure. Taking his hand, you intertwine your fingers together, letting your love for one another flow through the connection between your hands, a surprisingly tender moment despite the rough movements.

Reaching your climax, you tighten impossibly around him, triggering Hubert’s own release. The feeling of his hot cum filling you up causes your climax to heighten, the sounds of both of your moans fill the room. Feeling the final spurts of his climax, Hubert rolls to the side of you, trying not to crush you. Removing his now softening cock from you, Hubert gulps as he watches a mixture of your juices leak out of you, his cock twitching at the sight.

“I might need to chastise you for staring blatantly like that but am feeling sleepy now. I wonder why? But that was amazing… and… uhm…. Wonderful. Thank you, Huey.”

Laying down, Hubert brings you into his arms and pulls the blanket over your body. All of those midnight activities with Hubert sure drains your remaining strength—making you drowsy. You can feel his smile blooming on your hair when he kisses it but you are unsure—not when your eyes are begging to close. His lulling warmth heightens your sleepiness.

“Good night, (Y/N). Get a good sleep. I will chase away your nightmares. I will keep you safe.”

“Nice try, Huey. Yes… You will scare away my nightmares. You are much scarier than them, after all.”

“Just close your eyes already.” Hubert scowls at you but somehow his usual death glare is brimming by warm kindness now. Or maybe your brain is playing tricks with you.

Leaning into Hubert’s chest, you place one last kiss on his pectoral for the night, right on his heart—making him gasp and recoil. How silly.

“Thank you for tucking me in tonight, Huey. Good… night…”

You wake with a choked gasp, eyes puffy from the hot tears streaming down your face, fists clenched tightly in the sheets tangled around your body and trapping you to the bed. Your body is drenched in sweat and shaking slightly. Heart pounds erratically in your chest as your eyes dart quickly to adjust to your surroundings. Quarters. You are in your own quarters. Not your burning House but in your quarters—safe and sound.

Why is the nightmare that haunts you over years coming back at you again? Was it because of overthinking?

All of the never-ending nightmare of terrors seem to stop since you decided to go back to the Monastery to help Miss Edelgard, yet... It’s disconcerting to see the legitimate heir of House Vestra always stalking over her. And you, especially. At least that’s what you were thinking back then.

Yet, unlike his Father, Hubert never brought any harm to you. Hubert would never do that to you.

He will never... won’t he?

You can only tuck yourself inside of your arms, ignoring the crescents from your own nails from your nervous grip. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears and you’re panicking, struggling for breath in the worst way, throat tight with emotion and tears. Even pacing around your quarters doesn’t help to diminish the cold feeling on your neck and throbbing pain in your chest.

Haphazard knocks on your door to drag you back from your train of thoughts.

“(Y/N)! Are you there? Please answer me!”

Ferdinand? At this dawn? As your breathing calmed, you decided now is finally a good time to speak up.

“Um? What is it, Fernie?”

“Please pardon my intrusion at this ungodly hour but I have to inform you that we are under surprise attack, (Y/N). Knights of Seiros are marching here to recapture Garreg Mach as we speak. Everyone is gathering in the main hall now.”

“If they bring war to our doorstep, they will want us on the worst footing possible. I will prepare myself in a moment and head there with you, Fernie.”

---

Major conflagrations consume the whole forest. The dawn sky is ablaze with color. White hot flames shimmer through fierce yellow and into burnt orange as flames lick the trees around the monastery. The acrid smell of charred wood and blood fills the air, choking the lungs of Black Eagles Strike Force.

Hubert was averse to the idea of having you participate in this battle yet you chose to go against it. You know it was not his fault and you did not mean to swat his hand away when he tried to stop you—yet the nightmare made you more anxious than ever. Agitated, even.

Even the cold breeze of the dawn could not erase beads of sweat on your temple. This is not good. Black Eagles Strike Force is at a huge disadvantage—you can see it clearly from above. Soaring across the sky helps you to assess everything in a detailed manner. Uneasiness runs deep in your mind. These burning scenes are similar to what happened to your House back then.

The enemy is raiding from the north and transporting large quantities of flammable material into the woods. They clearly intend to strike with fire. 

The battle looks to be rather cumbersome since there is still much about this place that still remains a mystery. Garreg Mach monastery is well known for its numerous secret passages and magic traps. It will be highly plausible that they will launch ambushes from various locations that no one could anticipate.

Knowledge is the most powerful weapon you are ever going to have at your disposal. It would be of paramount importance to relay this valuable information to Miss Edelgard to ensure the monastery's safety. Gusts of dust and ashes from the charred woods hinders your vision as you scour for her among this commotion. You frantically search the battlefield, eyes squinting between burning forest, flying Pegasus Knights and Wyvern Knights, and the sickening sea of red–like you are gliding around the sea of bloody bodies. 

“Lady Edelgard, we should do all we can to prevent enemies from spreading the fire further,” Hubert advises as he strikes three Fortress knights with Dark Spikes T.

Ah. There she is. Aymr glowing bright crimson in Miss Edelgard's hand as she strikes down a Pegasus Knight. Professor Byleth and Hubert guard her back, obliterating enemies on their paths.

A blinding light from your hand annihilates dozens of Wyvern Riders that tried to ambush them from the sky. Their echo of death wails from your Agnea’s Arrow spell sending chilling shudders to your very spine.

With a sharp tug on the leash you glide your pegasus to land between Miss Edelgard and Hubert—giving a deep bow before informing her about your concern.

“Miss Edelgard, Professor, and Hubert,” you greet, voice washing over muffled sounds of metal-on-metal, swords clashing and arrows piercing armor. The screams of the soldiers falling to the earth and calling for backup. “Knights of Seiros are advancing from the north in large numbers,” you declare. Hubert's lips flatten into a line, those serious eyebrows furrowing watch your pallid face—as if trying to keep himself from admonishing you.

“They are trying to burn us down with mountains of highly flammable materials.”

The Professor stares at you contemplatively before they begin to instruct, “Send Caspar and Petra to the north. Linhardt and Bernadetta will charge the enemies on the east side.”

“Please proceed with utmost caution. I saw it from atop my pegasus earlier. There are troops waiting in the woods to advance here,” you beseech urgently. “It would be dangerous to charge head on to an uncharted territory amidst an ambush. Leave it to me, Dorothea, and Ferdinand to keep them at bay. That way Professor, Hubert, and Miss Edelgard would be able to deter their plan to break through here.”

A momentary look of discomfort crosses the Emperor’s face as she glances at Hubert and Professor Byleth. Ah. She must be worried for your health and safety. So does Hubert. You can see it as clear as day in his disapproving look.

“Everyone has their hands full at the moment. We don’t have the luxury to wait and let them ambush us.” Darn. Your reasoning only deepens the scowl on Hubert's lips.

“You must not, (Y/N)!” Hubert hisses furiously. “Go back to the mona—” His words are cut short when a Warlock shoots Thoron at Miss Edelgard out of nowhere. Fortunately Hubert manages to shoving Miss Edelgard to safety and Professor kills the Warlock with a slash right through their chest.

“Watch out!” The Professor yells as they lash their Sword of Creator at a pair of Assassin and Warrior that storm at Miss Edelgard. Ever so vigilant Hubert bombards them with Banshee Θ—but the Warrior gets enraged and hurls their ax at Miss Edelgard. A large blast of your Bolganone burns them into crisps, leaving no remains behind—making you cough a bit. Three of them are glowering at you with concern now.

No. Everyone is busy and you can’t afford to make them worry about petty things such as your health. Especially Hubert. You don’t want to make him have to choose between Miss Edelgard and yourself; because both of you will choose your liege without a pause, without a doubt, in a heartbeat.

You turn on your heel, boots crunching over fallen bones and dry leaves. Ignoring Professor and Miss Edelgard's loud protests, you mount on your pegasus and tighten your grip on the leash—ready to flit to aid Ferdinand and Dorothea.

But Hubert's ginger touch on your shoulder surprises you. The way he ghosts his hand as if afraid to harm you with his touch… Was it your imagination? Is it because you have snapped at him before because of your nightmare?

"We will send reinforcements. Linhardt and Bernadetta will aid you. Tread carefully, (Y/N). Please."

The way he whispers 'please' is more like a desperate plea rather than a warning. You only nod at Hubert and bolt to the sky.

---

How many hours have passed? Endless Reason spell usage makes you languid and breathless. Even Dorothea and Ferdinand are drained now. You grit your teeth in frustration and wipe away your nosebleeds. Linhardt and Bernadetta should have been here to help by now, but they were nowhere to be seen. Hopefully they are safe on the other side of this damned battlefield.

Right as you are about to push off and jump back into the fray, you hear a voice.

“Now! Light it up! Like the goddess's fiery wrath, these flames will engulf our enemies. Start the fire!” Alois bellows loudly.

Wildfire rages through the forest immediately at Alois’ command. It is an utter mess. Lots of Imperial Soldiers are pushed back to avoid being burned alive. Raging fire turns the horses and pegasi into a state of disarray, including Ferdinand’s. His stallion thrashes around in a frenzy and makes Ferdinand fall with a loud thump. This is like a living hell of your nightmare.

“Fernie!!”

Maybe you have bitten off more than you can chew. The elaborate plan to thwart Knight of Seiros’ ambush turns into a debacle when all of you are surrounded by Alois’ troops. Everything is more than you bargained for. You are going to dive and swoop Ferdinand on your pegasus to save him when an arrow strikes on your shoulder agonizingly all of a sudden.

“It’s not personal. Hate me if you must!”

Shamir. Damn. Is this your end?

Everything goes like in a slow motion when Shamir shoots a volley of arrows towards you. You can barely discern your pegasus’, Ferdinand, and Dorothea's cries when you fall downward with a loud crash. The wet crack could barely be heard over your scream of pain.

White smears across your vision as the world tilts around you, dizzying and nauseating. The world is shaky, still, with spots of white dancing in the air. Your leg pangs and throbs horribly. Even a simple movement sends shards of pain up your leg. Awful agony shoots up your leg and you writhe on the ground, a sob slipping from your lips. You can only gasp when pain clouds your mind too much for thoughts.

“(Y/N)!!”

“I’m fine, Fernie and Dorothea,” you panted. “How about you?” 

“Just some minor bruises. But you have broken your leg, (Y/N). Dorothea is worn out and compared to you, I’m...” Ferdinand speaks in a suffocated whisper, glancing at his burned knees and forearms. Some parts of Ferdinand's armor had singed but mercifully there are no wound is visible. Ferdinand blanches when she watches your limp leg that bends at an odd angle—something to be expected when someone falls from such height. He asks Dorothea to watch over you as he covers both of you. Tears run the songstress' cheeks as she hovers her hands around the arrow that protrudes from your shoulder and tries to heal your grievous injuries. 

“Stand back! I won’t let you hurt (Y/N)! Come at me!”

"I had no other option. No hard feelings." Alois leaps at Ferdinand and swings his ax, which he manages to quickly dodge; only to get shot by Shamir.

“I’ll make this quick.”

That damned woman put another arrow on Ferdinand’s leg. You can only shed tears when you hear his cries of pain.

Fernie....

To have Ferdinand shield you and Dorothea from Alois and Shamir. He will die if Alois cleaves him in two with his massive ax, or Shamir shoots another arrow at him—and you will never let it happen. 

“I’m sorry, Fernie... Please stand back and keep Dorothea safe.”

“W-What? What are you going to do, (Y/N)?”

You gasp and muster your strength to yank Ferdinand away and slam your hands on the earth to cast a massive Quake.

Powerful primals tremble, thrumming beneath your hands as you perceive deafening growls surround you. Deep crevices cracks in frightening pace like a small ripple that turns into huge tidal wave—similar to tiny crack in a frozen lake that turns into an abyss within seconds—running and tearing the ground in million fissures and swallow the whole burning forest along with most of the Knights of Seiros, Shamir, and Alois.

Jagged stalagmites pierce through the crevices and impale them ruthlessly, coloring the ground with bursting crimson. Unforgiving. Merciless. Brutal. Not even their loud cry of pain could pierce through the reverberating uproar of madness.

Wrath rush through your veins as you levitate above the ground and tear the plains like it were made from nothing but a thin paper—with a mere flick of your finger. You let the overwhelming feeling take over you. A burgeoning power that is devastating enough to quiet the whole battlefield. It’s like you lose sense of where you are.

Thundering roars and painful howls flood the battlefield. There are several valiant Pegasus Knights and Wyvern Riders that try to storm at you, avenging their comrades' death; only to burn into dust when you rain Meteors upon them. Some reckless Snipers even tried to launch barrages of arrows—that you manage to deflect and retaliate easily with millions of Cutting Gale.

Your vision blurs at the edges and the voices of the surrounding Knights of Seiros turn to a faint buzz as you see red. Each fissure devours them hungrily and greatly diminishes their numbers. Silence, the loathsome, deadly silence that could only mean one thing—mass destruction. Every house, tree, and object that was once intact was now in ruins. Both Imperial soldiers and Knights of Seiros recoil in terror.

It was Flayn’s terrified scream that pulls you from your hazy-like state of mind. She can only petrified in apprehension as your Quake sprints to her at full speed. Flayn and Seteth’s dreadful countenance tug something within your heart—which made you put an end to your spell with a sigh.

No. You will never be able to do such things to them. You do understand how it feels to lose your precious family and you never want anyone to undergo that horrible, lonely feeling—that’s why you try to catch your breath and raise the ground beneath Flayn’s feet to bring her closer to Seteth.

Your stomach feels like it's leaving your throat when you croak, “Go away. Take Flayn... somewhere... sa... fe.....” before you slump to the ground. You can barely make out Seteth's relieved and thankful, yet bitter expression as he barks orders at the few remaining Knights of Seiros to retreat–poor traumatized Flayn is safely tucked with him on his Wyvern.

Wave of relief washes over you. But the sweet sensation does not last long. Your heart stopped and breath caught in your throat. Hot, burning pain searing your whole body as your adrenaline is burning off and leaving you in a world of pain. A pain you’d never felt before. The ringing in your ears wouldn’t stop. Bernadetta and Dorothea shriek in terror when they watch you vomit blood, and collapse to the ground harshly.

You can only wheeze and cradle your wounded shoulder as you convulse in pain—coughing more blood. Everything hurts. Everything hurts. You scream–scream until your throat is raw, until the blood curdles in your lungs and blocks your breathing. You cough it up only to choke and vomit more blood.

“Fer…nie, Do… rothea…., Miss E..del…gard, Huey.…” you try to call, hands clutching at your chest. It burns. Goddess, it burns. Your insides, leg, and shoulder. Weak whimpers escape your throat as you have a severe coughing fit and vomit blood again–drowning into a world of red. Everything is red and blurry now.

Was it from dried blood on your face?

Was it from the remnants of the burned forest?

Was it from your puddle of blood vomit? Or from your wounded shoulder? Or your broken leg?

You can’t discern anything—not with these spearing pain that rob you of rational thought, making you wish for the sweet release of death.

Maybe... maybe.... It wouldn’t be so bad. To go back with Mother and Father you missed so dearly. Home… Home……..

But... Would that make Hubert sad?

“When it comes to you, I—" Ugh. No. This is not good. I am Hubert von Vestra. I must conceal my feelings with my stoic façade. Alas, she makes my heart go weak. I am too afraid to return her gaze. "If I may ask..." I shift on my feet, pulling at the collar of my shirt nervously. "Is there a reason for your being less abrupt with Caspar and Ferdinand? They do not seem to draw your ire as much as… me.” My heart feels like it is going to burst from my chest and I cannot breathe. I swallow but it does nothing to ease the dryness in my mouth. I feel like I’m losing my mind as I close my eyes and continue with my question. “Especially Ferdinand.” What has gotten into me? Why do I blurt such things?

“I do understand what you are trying to ask, Huey. Duke Aegir and Count Bergliez… They…'' she nods weakly to silently indicate what their parents did to hers. “I did. But.. Fernie is very caring and respectful towards me. He often took me for evening horse riding to cheer me up when I was drowning in despair. Fernie loves to walk with me through the woods looking at the flowers and he has me over to tea. He talks constantly, and sometimes that is needed to keep my mind away from darker and worrisome things. He is full of sunshine and light. Although I do not deserve to fully belong in the light, there are times when it is comforting."

No. My world is falling apart at her words. The way her eyes shine brightly when she speaks his name. The lilt and warmth in her tone of voice. What is this burning and painful feeling in my chest?

“Caspar is simply funny. He dives in head first, having no idea how deep the water is or what he is attacking, but he's ready for it. A little chaos in the mix always makes things much more interesting. When I locked myself inside my room, he almost turned me deaf every morning with his loud yells and broke my quarters door once but I know he meant well. It’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?”

I am sure (Y/N) is singing lots of good things about them but my mind is failing at grasping it. They sound like ruminant rambling in my head. Everything is blurry, everything is hot.

“Huey? Are you okay?” The next thing that I know is (Y/N) waving her hands in front of me. “Are you listening?”

(Y/N) trails up to interlace her fingers with mine. Her tiny hands fit perfectly in mine. Her eyes are soft and she has the tiniest smile on her picturesque, delicious lips. She locks her eyes with mine as she speaks.

My lips set in a grim line as I try my best to choke out a simple “Yes, I am.”

“…That’s why I wanted to tell you… Your kindness has helped me to open my mind, my world, Huey. Our pasts don’t define who we are and it is you that taught me so. To be able to accept the Black Eagles’ warmth, care, and affection. Make peace with my past and move forward. I can’t describe how thankful I am.” She looks down at our joined hands and takes a deep breath, looking me in the eye with the loveliest smile. "Your kindness overwhelms me."

She barely whispers it loud enough for me to hear, a subtle embarrassment at her honest confession. “I love you, Hubert von Vestra.”

Have I heard her correctly? There must be a mistake here. How could she love an unlovable, not deserving of a love—a man like me? Compared to me, Ferdinand is always so appropriate and easier to get along with. With a smile as bright as the sun, gorgeous flowing locks, and gentleman demeanor, women generally enjoy Ferdinand’s company better.

“Are you sure, (Y/N)? H-How about Ferdinand?” I stammer nervously. Profound warmth burns my cheeks, they are becoming so red now. Words are jumbled out from my lips but I don’t give a damn.

“Fernie is more like a big brother to me, Huey. He really dotes on me and loves to pat my head gently. Why do you seem to resent Fernie so much? You did mention him a lot today.” She floats and nudges my elbow with a wolfish grin. “Do you like him?”

“What?” (Y/N)’s power and acumen is beyond impressive but her tact is on par with Caspar. For someone so strong and intelligent, she is very dense.

I am sure (Y/N) is as dense as a rock.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Have I said something wrong?”

“Foolish.” It was a miracle that I managed to say it with an impassive scowl. My heart is jumping up and down happily from her admission. No, I am not supposed to be happy to know (Y/N) is not romantically interested in Ferdinand. And no, I am certain that I do not hold feelings for him either.

“It’s rare to catch you smiling, Huey. Suits you better than your usual sour look.” A small giggle escapes her lips. Oh what a tease. Such a mouse. My feisty mouse. I would be the happiest person alive if I could hear that for the rest of my life. I could not help the pull of my own lips, mirroring her expression as I slid my arms around her waist and pulling her closer.

“I cannot fathom the hold you have on my heart. How much I dearly love you. This is not how I wished to tell you, but my heart is open, willingly offered to you for the taking, (Y/N).”

My heart continues to race as I search in her eyes for any answer. The air is heavy, filled with anticipation, excitement and fear. My confession hung heavy in the room, one I both feared and looked forward to. I can feel her arms respond in kind, hugging me tighter to her. My gaze falls to her lips, soft and supple, drawing me closer. Pressing my forehead to hers, my eyes shut tight as I try to rein myself in.

I can barely control myself.

“...May I?” I dare not look at her. I cannot let myself fall into the abyss of her eyes, be enchanted by her scent, or melt into the warmth of her small body pressed against mine.

“Yes, Huey.” It isn’t a whisper, it isn’t begging, it is loaded with all and every emotion she had ever held towards me. “Huey…” She repeats again, but a little more forceful. My hand trembles as I hold her cheek and as I lean down to kiss and revel in the taste of hers.

A thrill runs down my spine as I feel her soft warmth against my own lips. They touch firmly, feeling a little like heaven, if there ever was one. My thoughts are many at once as I run my fingers up and down her back, caressing her hair, the back of her neck, and then cradling her face affectionately.

A spark. A fire. An explosion bursts in my mind. I cannot begin to explain the feeling of my lips against hers, drinking her up. (Y/N) looks lost, eyes wide and hands tightening around my arms while she is panting.

Grazing my lips against the shell of her ear I quietly tease, for only her to hear, “I have you speechless at last, (Y/N).” I cannot take my eyes from her flushed face, nor could I ignore my hunger for her.

“Y-yes”. Her breath warm against my lips makes me shiver in delight. She is flushed head to toe, her breath coming in ragged stutters. I lean my forehead onto hers, closing my eyes to take in what has happened. This feels unreal, hazy like a dream, to be here in her quarters, to have her in my embrace. Though I am trying to hide it, the corners of my mouth are twitching upwards.

We are impossibly close until I finally cease the gap and kiss her again passionately. My callused hands graze her hips, her waist, claiming her. She gives in, opening her mouth into the kiss and letting my impatient tongue brush against the seam of her lips, slip in and explore each crook she has, tugging her tongue and making her moan gently into the kiss. I am savoring her moans in earnest and offering up mine in return.

Lightning lashes through my veins and my focus narrows to her fingers, her touch, her breath, her body on mine. “(Y/N)”. I breathe her name like a prayer more devout than any Mercedes and Marianne had offered to the Goddess in Cathedral everyday. My tongue sweeps her mouth again, growl reverberates in my chest as I worship her with my soul.

“Hubert....”

My name sounds so good when (Y/N) moans it out loud like that.

For a moment, I am nothing. Not the shadow of the Adrestian Empire. Not the notorious Count Vestra. Just Hubert von Vestra. This—This moment, it is just me and (Y/N) and nothing between us.

An involuntary growl escapes from my mouth when she pulls me away with a smack of her lips, a thin string of saliva connecting the two of us. She gulps down heavy breaths of air. The haze leaves us light-headed and incoherent. Her thighs are trembling like a newborn fawn as she crumbles against my chest, her legs finally giving out.

Did I go too far? 

“T-That was.... intense. I feel like melting, Huey.”

I simply chuckle against her temple and place a few pecks on her skin. Despite her protesting fusses, I withdraw my hand and curve my arms around her panting form, holding her close and caressing between her shoulder blades.

“Did you like it, (Y/N)?” My jaw feels tense as I grind my teeth in anxious worry.

She nods softly. “You’re an idiot, Huey.” She slurs, as quiet as a mouse. (Y/N) turns her gaze away, wipes the saliva and puffs a breath to move the sweat-dampened hair that's fallen over her eyes. Those puffy cheeks are utterly adorable. Warmth floods through my body. The longer I study (Y/N) the softer my eyes become. 

“I can’t tell the difference between your face and tomato now. Small, red, and puffy.”

“Eeeekkk!!! How dare you!” Tiny hands deliver sharp jabs at my chest. It hurts but I don’t mind. That squeal, I can listen to it for my entire life and never get bored of it. Her reactions are well worth the pain and I can never get enough. Previously, she was ferocious and cold-blooded. But now my touches make her brimming with emotions. In times like these, (Y/N) makes me fully aware of just how much I love her.

“I am not one to give hugs, usually.” My hands saunter and hold the back of her head in a protective way. Her futile attempt to hide her blush in my arms is utterly precious. I can see red is rising to the tips of her ears. Fortunately my gentle ministration is sufficient to stop her pummels. Her soft, warm body feels nice but... (Y/N)’s petite body barely reaches my chest.

As she snuggles deeper into my stomach, I can feel her warm breasts are smothering my groin with her tight embrace. Mercilessly. I can even feel her thundering heartbeat throughout my body. The sheer intensity of it is enough to send my pulse racing. To my head. To my heads.

No. This is bad. I had not expected such a turn of events. A flush of colour warms my cheeks. My heartbeat is a drum in my ears—fast and loud. It might have been funny if the room actually isn’t much hotter than usual and my face isn’t burning red from pleasure. This sensation is driving me wild. I feel hot and bothered. What is this? It is a question for later, but the thought has kindled something within my chest and pants.

I have to get her away before she takes notice of my physical evidence of my arousal and not so innocent thoughts. I need a distraction. Now. Everything happens in a flash. My hands shove (Y/N) away (more forcefully than I intended) to her bed and I can hear a soft plop and yelp.

“Ouch! What was that for, Hubert?”

My eyes nearly pop out of my head when I look at (Y/N) is splayed on her bed in all of her glory. Her skirt is hunched up around her waist, the blanket barely covers her thighs and panties. My mind snaps. It’s relieving to see that the bruise is getting less swollen than before. No. I must look away. I must not indulge myself in this impressive scene. I will not burn this image in my mind for future reference. I am not Sylvain Jose Gautier. I promise. And I will not falter.

(Y/N)'s glassy, heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips made my thought process entirely derailed. Whatever pithy remark I had intended to tease her floated clean out of my mind. I swallow around the lump in my throat and turn on my heels.

I need to cool off. In the nearby lake. Now. Anywhere but here will do.

“I must take my leave now, (Y/N). I have an important matter to attend to. A meeting.” And with that petty excuse I cast a quick Warp spell to get away from that damned room.

---

The pure black of the night is my comfort. It is the starry kissed night that makes the pale crescent moon shine like a silvery claw in the sky. My fingers ache in the fierce spring wind as I clench and unclench them, trying to keep the feeling in their tips.

I let myself sink in the shallow part on the far end of the Monastery lake to gather my thoughts and sanity. My clothes are thoroughly soaked but my mind is clearer now. Water is rippling around my body when I resurface and push my wet hair that's fallen over my eyes.

“That is a new way to fish, Hubert. You could ask for Professor’s help to instruct you on how to do it... better.” Lady Edelgard looks at me up and down. Ah, her casual sleepless night stroll. Circles under her eyes show me that she was unable to sleep from the thoughts tormenting her. The same nightmare had haunted her every night for the past week. I hope her short walk can chase them away even just for a bit. I ought to do something to ease her mind.

“Would you like a cup of tea, Lady Edelgard? Ferdinand gave me some of his best selections yesterday.”

“Thank you for your kind offering but I must politely decline. Just a stroll is enough for me.” A sad smile crept on her face solemnly. Her stare dips to my clenched fists. My nails dig crescent moon shapes into my palms until I'm sure I have broken skin.

“What brings you here, Hubert? You look troubled.”

“I am just trying to organize my thoughts.”

“Do you have someone in mind?”

Vivid image of my heated make out session with (Y/N) came across my mind. Absent-minded quiet moans left (Y/N)’s lips, eyes closed as she relished my caress, her body was melting under my touch and both of us got caught up in the moment, letting desires lead and not quite realizing where it was going. The way she moaned my name into my mouth and looked back at me with her glassy eyes. Delicate thighs that I yearn to…. no. I have to take a hold of my own thoughts.

I could’ve sworn my heart is going to burst out of my chest at the flashbacks. My pupils are blown wide at my own imaginations. The hard bulge on my pants is becoming more uncomfortable now. I have to turn away from Lady Edelgard before she notices. And wipes my drool and nosebleed to maintain some decency. How unbecoming.

“Nothing in particular.” 

“Then what are you doing there at the dead of the night? The lake must be freezing.” She cocks one eyebrow high. 

“Contemplating. I am in a dire need to cool off my mind, Lady Edelgard.” There is a doubtful curve to the way she looks at me but, then again, she never presses me to elaborate further and I am grateful for it.

“... And let that Golden Fish bite you? Is that really necessary? How intriguing.” I can hear her stifle a soft giggle to save me from further humiliation. Her gaze is attentive, never straying from my face and she beckons me to get out from the lake. “I am all ears if you need someone to talk to.”

Heat itches along my cheeks and neck but it does not excuse what I had done. I swallow against the burning in my throat and nod. My hand moves involuntarily to burn the fish with dark flame and cast a spell to dry my drenched self dispassionately.

Lady Edelgard chuckles at my actions and claps her hands. “I am so happy for you. Glad to know that you have found your special someone. I wish all the best for you and your loved one, Hubert.”

“I-I... Thank you.”

An amused look dances on her violet eyes as she muses, “You might want to check the books in Abyss for all of your romance problems, Hubert.” There is a sing-song quality to her voice. She knows. It always manages to surprise me that Lady Edelgard always sees right through me like an open book.

“See you tomorrow. Be careful not to catch a cold. Good night, Hubert.” Lady Edelgard waves her hand and takes her leave. 

Maybe Lady Edelgard is right. I should go and scour the books in the Abyss. The vast library offers a variety of different materials, including books banned from the library at Garreg Mach Monastery. I require every help and knowledge regarding this subject.

My self discipline and composure have been through many years of tempering and teaching. I have taught myself how to NOT respond to people provoking me. Trying to conquer anything that would bother me, what would upset me. To never let my guard down lest the enemy finds out something about me.

Alas, (Y/N) on the other hand, breaks my walls as easily as the thinnest glass. I cannot hide any emotion from her. She always has her way to set my feelings running rampant in my mind and throughout my body.

‘(Y/N), you are the worst. Your lips are my demise.’

---

Multiple sharp knocks echo in your room, your head shooting up as you scramble to find a purchase. It is thanks to your training that you have excellent reflexes that you manage to get a tight grip on the shelves before they tumble to the floor. Judging from the harsh pounds, it must be Hubert. Tsk.

“Wait a minute,” you shout over your shoulder, your call strained from where you are stretched out against your bookcase, trying to lower yourself to the ground. “I’m not deaf, Huey!!” Putting the book on the desk and adjusting the flower garland that adorns your head, you stride over opening the door to see him.

Opening the door reveals a gawking Hubert. That’s very unlikely. But here he is. Standing at the threshold gaping his maw like a fish. His hair is a bit dishevelled. Muscles on his torso are almost visible through his shirt, glistening with the sweat. Was he running? Seeing Hubert in his casual clothes makes you stare far too long. He is dressed to kill. Both literally and figuratively.

Hubert wears a white shirt with his family name embroidered on its collar. His luxurious linen shirt is neatly tucked, the sleeves rolled up to mid arms. Two buttons left undone leave little to the imagination for what his bare chest would look like. Not that you want to see it. Really. You know that Hubert is attractive but who knew that the man looks good in anything? Or maybe... in nothing at all? Damn. Tearing your gaze from the captivating older man, you begin to silently curse yourself for your indecent imaginations.

“Cat got your tongue?” Trying to hide the faint blush on your cheeks and erratic beatings of your heart, you decide to goad him with his own words.

"You…" Hubert murmurs, drawing in a deep breath. "That thing suits you well. You look nice today, (Y/N).” He points to the garland of pink, white, and blue wildflowers that is woven around the crown of your head and your casual attire. Pastel lemon dress with delicate frills around the neck. The bodice may be form-fitting, but the skirt is loose and billowy, making it comfortable to wear.

How suspicious. “... Are you really Hubert von Vestra? I almost thought you were Sylvain.” 

“What are you getting at?”

“You seem rather pleased to see me this morning. I was expecting another scrutinizing gaze but... To have a Vestra ogling at me like that... This is new,” you tut. Behind his shell, Hubert is glowing at the sight of your playful smirk, however a little sarcasm doesn’t hurt.

“Petra gave this to me this morning. It is lovely, isn’t it? She said I need to wear this to celebrate the festival in the nearby town with Fernie–I mean Ferdinand. He will be arriving in an hour.” You watch as Hubert's face turns into a grimace. Any spark of mirth and warmth dissipates from his entire being. Is he upset?

“What’s the matter, Huey?”

“We have an urgent matter to attend to," he throws a small leather pouch at you. “Professor asked me to replenish Black Eagle Strike Force supplies. Your company will be crucial for this task, (Y/N). We can buy them in the nearby town.” Judging from its weight and clinking sound, the pouch must be filled with a nice amount of gold coins. 

“Why me? Ferdinand asked me to go there with a horse earlier. He said there’s a fun festival called Day of Devotion in that town. We are supposed to go there in an hour from now. Since we have the same destination, I think we should wait for him,” you stroke your chin thoughtfully. “Ferdinand could help us to carry those goods. Talk about being efficient, Huey. Now that I think about it, Ferdinand did say that he had something to say to me as well. Can’t we all go together?”

“No. Just the two of us is enough. We must depart at once.” Hubert yanks your hand tightly so that you are almost sure that your hand will break from the force. He flicks his finger and before you could protest, the dark mage warps you two to the festival.

---

The sky is a whirlpool of molten amethyst, sapphire, and ruby, all bleeding into a final pool of lapis lazuli. The dazzling bright lights of the festival shine and sparkle. Illuminating the various colored villagers and their smiles. The town is bustling with energy and merriment. It's a wonder some of the shops are still open, and not completely out of stock yet. Costumes, flowery outfits, food of all sorts… all of it is prominent while more and more tourists flood the streets.

It is almost midnight when you two are done with the tasks. You start to feel bad for breaking your promise with Ferdinand but it is way too late for it, now.

Hubert did say that it would be a lot, but who knew that it would be a wagon full of numerous supplies?! A mountain of weapons, armor, vulneraries, vegetables, seeds, and various game meats are piled neatly inside the cart that he rented. You have read the notes and you are 100% sure that these items weren’t included in it. Did Hubert do this to overwork you out on your day off to anger you? All of that money should not be sufficient for all of these things. You are sure that Hubert must have paid for most of them. Did he do this to stall the time to spend more time with you? What a wishful thinking. Maybe he is doing this on purpose to annoy Ferdinand and you. Yeah, that suits him better.

Hubert has worked you to death today. Almost. Running around amidst this busy town and loading various items into the wagon is exhausting.

Looking out of the corner of his eye, Hubert sees another shop and guides you there. Briefly touching your shoulder he asks for your opinion and agrees with you pleasantly in front of the shopkeeper. Hubert showers you with lots of roasted chicken, cookies, candies, and pastries, then goes off to talk with another merchant.

That damned wagon is sent to Garreg Mach to arrive by tomorrow. Good thing he lets you eat and rest. That Vestra devil sure loves to pick on you. A handsome devil with flowers on his head. Somehow the flower garland that adorns his hair reminds you of a bird nest.

An old lady gave it to Hubert after you helped her to find her grandson this afternoon. She thought that Hubert was your husband. Both of you were flustered but accepted the garland nonetheless. Hubert’s flushed face is really worth the pain, though.

“This would be sufficient. We should go back to the Monastery with haste.” Hubert’s boots make clicking noises as you both slither down the marble road that leads to the heart of the town. Clusters of amateur musicians drown the whole area with a serene and entrancing melody. Standing at the edge of the ring of dancing, you are mesmerized by the couples that are swaying toward the pull of the sound, circling the bonfire. 

Just like a moth drawn to a flame, you skip between the dancers, twirling your skirts. You were about to turn on your heel to join the merriment when Hubert calls your name softly. “We will be late, (Y/N).” He sighs and folds his arms.

The tempo increases in harmonious melody. You want to be in the music, want to swim its waltz and weave between its notes.

“Stop being so serious, Huey. It’s the Day of Devotion so a little indulgence won’t hurt.” You protest, never once stumbling over your steps. “My mother always said you should dance with your worst enemy at least once before you kill them. So, Hubert, how’s your footwork?”

Hubert raises his brow and chuckles at your invitation. “Murder your sworn enemy?” There is a gentle pressure at your waist when Hubert sweeps and whisks you in his arms. “That could be arranged.” His shoulders move smoothly as he spinning you round and round.

“Just a metaphor, Huey. Now... we shall not make unnecessary commotion, shall we?” Sliding your hand beneath Hubert's hem, you trace along the addictive bulge of his muscle and feel him shiver as you make a short work of hidden blades on his waist and chest. “Dance, Huey,” you breathe as your hand drifts inside his trousers tantalizingly to unclasp poison darts and daggers. Your eyes never leave Hubert’s, not even a mere second. Sweat gleams on his jugular as he gulps and gazes into your eyes, trying to ignore the way your delicate fingers dance around the cords of muscle along his forearms, seizing poison vials and knives in its wake.

Closing his eyes, Hubert leans close, his warm breath caressing the shell of your ear as he whispers “Somebody will be the death of me. And it is you, (Y/N).” His hand lingers on your shoulder as he lets out a deep breath and lifts you with ease as if you weight less than a feather. He brings you to the furthest area of the ring of dance, navigating his way by moonlight.

Your dancing is slowing and you stand there, holding each other as you sway to the faint calming song that can barely be heard. The stars are fading and the sky is turning grayish purple. Hubert bites his lips, his breathing is uneven as your own. His long, slender finger contracts against the plane of your lower back and you just let him tug you closer to him—until your bodies are touching.

Hubert’s raven black hair damp with sweat, he looks marvellously handsome. The warmth and intoxicating smell of his cologne seeps into you. The fragrance of bergamot and cardamom is balanced well by fig and cinnamon with a trace of vanilla to round it out. Faint traces of coffee, ink, and parchments scent lingers on his fingers. No, this is not the best time to get distracted. Not when his gaze pierces your soul.

“What?” you ask and put a hand on his chest, preparing to shove yourself back. But his other hand holds your shoulder gingerly, as if unable to let you slip away.

“I know most people see me as a villain, and I don’t —” He eyes you sharply. “—mind it. Most days at least. If you were to ask me why, I could easily explain that I do this to protect Lady Edelgard and her visions for Fódlan. But sometimes I wonder why my Father so easily rationalized the Insurrection and massacred your House.” He shakes his head, bashing his knuckle against his knee. “...I apologize, you do not need to hear this. He’s gone already.”

“Yes, I know, Huey.”

“He deserved that. Such a disgrace for House Vestra.”

“I suppose it is still a loss.”

“Perhaps. Part of my family is gone.” A smile is plastered on his lips. A smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Are you... alright?”

“I think you might have hard time to sympathize. Unlike yours, my Father was not… fatherly. Killing him was like killing anyone else I’ve vanquished over the past years. It really, truly doesn’t bother me.”

“He is still your Father.”

Hubert has lived his whole life in his Father’s shadow, and from those same shadow, Hubert killed him. But he doesn’t mind that he’s so similar like his Father, so willing to plunge his hands into musty darkness no one else dares to even gaze into. Everyone expects you to follow in your parents footsteps, but regardless of it, just like the two sides of the same coin, both of you choose to walk your own paths in your own wills.

You don’t do it merely because it’s what a you are groomed to do, you do it because you want to support Lady Edelgard and her ambitions. True devotions that was born from your own volitions. For a new dawn for Adrestia Empire and Fódlan.

“The man was a disgrace to House Vestra. He had it coming. I don’t mind killing him,” Hubert states plainly. He nods to silently indicate Marquis von Vestra’s name. “He hurt Lady Edelgard and Emperor Ionius gravely. He has done horrible things to Adrestia Empire. Death is a fitting end for him.” He clenches his fist, staring at his knuckle now. “And what he did to your family... the very House that has helped to built and supervised over the House of Vestra for centuries. A role that they have held historically since the dawn of Adrestian Empire....”

You shake your head and squeeze Hubert’s wrist woefully. “I know all that, Huey...” You say weakly, wincing in pain as your heart is filled with immense grief, harrowing memories come back at full force. “I don’t mean to pry, but…”

"I feel I must apologize to you personally for what my Father has done to you, to your family. He deserved to die," he says solemnly, looking sincerely apologetic into your eyes. Hubert's stoic façade falls apart as guilt washes over him when he watches your pained expression. “No. It had to be done,” Hubert said wearily. “Do not feel any pity towards my Father or myself, (Y/N).” His chartreuse eyes hold a far-off look that you had never seen before.

You should not have reached a hand toward him nor offered your apologies—but your heart overrules your mind. He sounds broken and you never want him to be like that again. It destroys you. What Marquis Vestra had done to you... to him.... Hubert gasps when you hug him tightly and take in the rich scent of his cologne. He freezes, not moving at all for a while, unsure on how to respond to your sudden action. You think he needs it. Perhaps he needs it more than you ever do. 

“.....Listen. You are not the one to blame for that incident to happen. It was your Father who killed my parents. Not you.” He flinches but doesn’t push you away nor reciprocate it. He goes rigid as his hands hover behind your back nervously, afraid to touch you. You tilt your head back and strain your neck to see his face. His mouth is caught somewhere between a smile and a wince.

“You are not your Father, Huey.” Tugging his elbow softly, you give his weapons and vials back, he clutches them instantly. “I'm just as bad as anyone else who saw only the bad in you because of who your Father was. And I regretted it when I got to know the real you, Hubert von Vestra.” You admit with a guilty sigh.

“Your cackles might be a bit terrifying, you can be a total jerk at times, and I hate your sharp tongue. But you do have a soft, kind heart, Huey. I can vouch for that.”

“Well, that’s another thing we have in common.” He leans his head back to look at the dark sky and chuckles. “Sharp tongues.”

Soon, even the serene music fades away, replaced by the sighing of trees in the night breeze. For a few minutes, there is nothing. Then, from the opposite side of the meadow across the quiet field, hundreds of fireflies float out across the grass, little more than mirages of moonlight.

When the dance stops, Hubert doesn’t let go of your hands and hugs you softly. “I am not one to give hugs, usually. But... I think I like you a lot more than I realize, (Y/N).” His breath shudders as he holds the back of your head with his hand in a protective way. He loosens up a bit, letting his shoulders fall and takes in the feeling of your body against his. “Maybe I do like you – a lot.”

You are trying to comprehend these facts as you are replaying his words over and over in your head. Pressing your ear against his heart, you heard it thundering loudly at your embrace. You could hear it clearly. Hubert von Vestra is a human. A normal one and he has feelings. Feelings for you. 

“Tell me what you're thinking, Y/N.” He groans, voice that is barely above a whisper that reverberates through the silent night.

You reach over and place a hand over his pale, large hand. Without the pristine white gloves, you can feel burn scars from his dark magic that mar his hands. His nostrils flare and he looks down at it, studying where your skin meets his. Relishing in its warmth, you let him squeeze your much smaller hands delicately. “Huey, I—” Mumbling against his palm, you are about to ask what he meant by his words. But you stop when you hear Dorothea and Ferdinand’s shouts.

Great timing.

“Here you are! We have been looking for you! Dorothea said that Hubert has taken you to celebrate the festival together, (Y/N).”

“No. We just went to procure supplies. I’m sorry about our promise, Fernie."

Ferdinand scoffs then laughs softly. “It’s okay, (Y/N). Dorothea told me about it and I don’t mind at all.” Amusement sparks from his features as he leans down and hands you a box filled with pegasi candies sculpted from sugar and a bunny plushie. How adorable!

Squealing in delight you smile widely at Ferdinand. He responds by softly patting your head and picks you up, then swinging you around. He really cares and treats you like a little sister.

“All’s well that ends well!” Dorothea hums and makes a face at Hubert. “What are you doing here with (Y/N), Hubie? Enjoying it to the fullest with her? It’s the Day of Devotion, after all. A very special day to show our devotion, gratitude, and love to our dearest companies.” Prowling over to Hubert with a toothy smile, she plays with her hair and continues. “If there's someone you really care about, you can give them a present packed with your feelings. And if you have a special someone in mind... You can confess your feelings, too.”

It’s a wonder that Hubert is able to maintain his composure and doesn’t burn the gorgeous songstress. Her face covered with a shit eating grin as she prancing around him gleefully. Fortunately Hubert has put some distance between you. Safe enough to keep you from Ferdinand and Dorothea’s naggings. Or you thought so.

“I’m glad to see that you have cheered up a bit, (Y/N). Though it seems Hubert did better job than me.” He whispers and winks at you meaningfully, making you flush with embarrassment. “It’s getting very late. Everyone is worried about you. We should go back now. Please let me, Ferdinand von Aegir, escort you.” Patting the brown horse next to him, Ferdinand readjust its saddle and smiles brightly to you.

Rubbing her hands together, Dorothea jabs and shoves poor Ferdinand aside. She pries your hands away from the male, having you for herself with lame reason of “Let us have our girls talk!” 

While riding a horse together returning to Garreg Mach with Dorothea, she spills the story about Hubert’s panicking over you and Ferdinand. Ignoring Hubert’s deadly glares, Dorothea hugs you from behind and whispers to you. “I would like to apologize for sticking our noses into your business the way we did. We thought you might be unhappy all cooped up in there, and that maybe we could help. Please feel free to tell all of your problems to us anytime. We are happy to see your joyful expression. You are a part of the Black Eagles, (Y/N). We think of you as our dearest little sister. We all do. We really do." You can feel her smile as her cheek touches your ear. Lacing her fingers around your middle part, she giggles and winks at you. “Well, except for Huey.”

Oh this sly woman!! She knew about your platonic relationship with Ferdinand, yet used it against Hubert to plunge him into confusion and chaos, spurring him to make his moves on you. You make a mental note to not make her an enemy. A puppeteer that made a Vestra into her own plaything. She is truly a real force to be reckoned with.

Everyone parts ways going back to their own quarters. Paying no mind to Ferdinand that goads him and Dorothea that sends devilish grins at him, Hubert escorts you to yours.

“The festival was pleasurable and.... thank you, (Y/N). All of it means so much to me.” Hubert smiles at you and you find yourself smiling back.

A sigh escapes from Hubert and he shifts between his legs. “It is appropriate to reprimand Dorothea for her unbecoming commentaries. I will ask the Professor to assign her for tomorrow's lunch cooking duty.” Shiver runs down your spine at his words. He will condemn the Black Eagles to their demise from food poisoning. Maybe it would be wise to pass on tomorrow's lunch.

“Good night, (Y/N).” His voice is gentle, caressing you as he takes his leave. Hubert clears his throat and refocuses himself. You can tell this is more difficult than he expected it would be, yet ever the trained socialite, he schools himself into focus. He's still on the outside of your room, but he takes a few steps closer, his scent wafting. Like coffee, ink, and parchments. You almost arch towards it. He notices.

“Good night, Hubert.” It's the breath of a whisper over your tongue. His name is so much more beautiful when you say it to his face. The sound of it seems to siphon some of the life out of him, his eyebrows pulling up barely perceptible. Taking a chance, glancing up at him, at the same time his chartreuse eyes catch yours, the two of you looking away immediately, and the air around you becomes tense. Too tense. Erratic pounds of your heartbeats make it hard to think straight.

“Why didn't you tell me sooner, Pipsqueak?!” Hubert’s stern, angry voice is met with silence. “Maybe it would be better if you refrain from participating in this ongoing war.” Hubert mutters quietly as he takes the blanket away, then wrings warm water from a towel to wipe blood that gushes from your nose. He gives you a small bag of ice cubes and another fresh blanket that he pulls from the cupboard, his concerned gaze flitting around your face.

“It is perfectly understandable that you would want to assist Lady Edelgard as much as possible, although I must inform you that the war effort may not be where your support is most needed.” Hubert seems to search your face for something, but what he is looking for or whether he finds it you don’t know. “Your help may be most appreciated in your companionship. Leave the combat to us.”

“It’s impossible to sit back and do nothing. I did nothing before and people died,” you smile faintly. “I tried to stay out of it but...I’ve made up my mind now. If this power can make things different, maybe this cursed power can be a blessing in disguise. I want to put an end to this war and keep the casualties at minimum.”

His brows furrow at your remarks and he snaps. “You can’t save everybody, little lady.”

“It’s fine, Hubert—nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” you fume, hiding a wince. Shifting your gaze to Hubert, you are shocked to find his face pale white with anger. “I’m used to it. Weapons are always out of the question because of my frail and sickly health. As for magic… It is the bane of my existence. Various high rank Reason magic is a mere plaything for me. I can wield various devastating magic but my body can barely endure the backlash of the energy expended. That’s why I am as fragile as a glass cannon,” you blurt, the words finally spilling out of you. While your voice is calm, your body slightly trembles. You’re trying to wrack your mind for a suitable response, but you're too overwhelmed by the whole situation. Everything was nothing like and exactly like what you’d prepared for, but not in a way you were prepared to deal with things like this. Devising war strategies is gruelling but talking to Hubert is worse, much worse.

“Such lethal magic comes at the cost of my life. I have my OWN reasons to keep on going. Please keep this matter between us. My power has frightened the Black Eagles Strike Force. I am sure they see me as a monster now...” You fidget under Hubert’s scrutinizing gaze. It’s almost like he is ready to swallow you whole with that intense stare. “May I get back to my own quarters now?”

His pristine white bed sheet and shirt are stained crimson now thanks to your nose bleed. You make a mental note to yourself to ask him to let you wash them later so people won’t think that he has committed a murder in the dead of the night. You know he often does but... considering how ruthless Hubert is to his enemies, he had to be nightmarish if you bothered him too much.

“Tell me your REASONS.” He didn’t sound angry, or upset, but there was a finality to his tone that you couldn’t argue with. Hubert nods without speaking as he pinches your nose and presses another small bag of ice on it tenderly to stop the nosebleed. Always meticulous and careful, Hubert’s feathery massages feel nice on your nose. He sure is... much kinder than he looks.

“I want to fulfill my parents’ legacy and dying wish. Our family’s undying loyalty towards the Empire shall live on through me. To protect Miss Edelgard from any harm and help her to reshape this crooked world. The longer change takes, the more people fall victim to injustices of our current era.” Your face twisting in pain a moment later as your knuckles turn white from gripping the blanket tightly. “I came to Garreg Mach because I wanted to protect and ensure Miss Edelgard’s safety and to fulfill her ambitions. Father told me to put as much distance from our family name as possible to save my life. Duke Aegir and your Father will hunt me down to ensure a total annihilation of our bloodline."

His eyes widen at your words but he remains silent. Fiddling with your fingers, you continue to relive your harrowing past. “After what the treacherous Marquis Vestra— well rather, the former Marquis Vestra— did in the Insurrection of Seven to the Emperor Ionius IX and my family, an insurmountable anguish plagued my heart when I found out that a Vestra remains at her side.” The flatness with which you said it told Hubert enough about how you felt about your emotions, doubt, hatred, and past. About why the presence of him always irks your ire.

Hubert is alarmed at your words but chooses to stay silent. He looses a long, controlled breath and does not speak for what feels like a very, very long time. “I’m sorry,” he said, words so quiet he might have not said them at all. He leans forward slightly, making sure that you're looking directly at him. Right into him. “But,” Hubert glowers as his eyes gleam. The faint glow of moonlight from the open window turns them gold. “My duty to Lady Edelgard is no mere obligation. I chose this path on my own volition. I had thought that would be obvious to you. It would be downright condescending to compare my devotion with that piece of filth.” He spits indignantly.

“Fine.” You laugh a little and smile at his earnest answer. But the laugh dissipates into icy stares when you speak again. “I’m no fool, Huey. I have seen your resolute loyalty to Miss Edelgard since our academy days and I want to... endeavour to believe. I don’t know. Trust is not in my nature.”

“Glad to know that we have something in common.” He smiles sarcastically in response. “Then why did you come to save Lady Edelgard and... me in Derdriu?”

You raise your brow at his question and sigh. “I don’t know. My blood ran cold when I saw you were in danger. What if you get hurt or die?”

Hubert scoffs at your answer and folds his arms. “Your kindness and naivety will kill you someday.” He tries to sound harsh in his voice, but it still comes out as exasperated. Hubert is about to sneer again but as he glances down at your crestfallen ashen face, those condescending remarks die down abruptly.

Staring at you keenly as though he is scrutinizing you, Hubert frowns. “I do not deserve your kindness, Pipsqueak. Not after what House Vestra had done to your parents.”

“Our families have no bearing on this matter...nor does the Empire itself. Hatred begets hatred. And I can’t bring myself to let you die. I don’t want to lose anyone important to me ever again. Black Eagles, Professor, Miss Edelgard, and... you, Hubert.” Your next words were almost inaudible. “When I thought about anything that might happen to you, I— I just lost it. I don’t know why.” You spluttered and bit your lip. Looking down to the now melting ice cube pack in your hands, you could feel your cheeks are heating up from the realization of implications of your words. “That didn’t- I didn’t mean it that way but—” 

Hubert didn’t react nor turn towards you either. If he had, you would have seen him looking away from you, out across the window of his room with flustered look. You both notice how awkward you are, and clear your throats at the same time.

“I had thought you might be of some use to Lady Edelgard and me with that sharp wit and spells. But now I am beginning to think you may, through no fault of your own, present too great a risk. It should be my utmost priority to keep an eye on you from dangers or some dubious individuals that sought your power.” 

“.... Since when do you care about me? And what do you get out of it?” The words from your lips weren't bitter, but they did feel like a question. A really good question, really. That is rich for Hubert who has his life dedicated to the Emperor. “I think you only extend your kindness to Miss Edelgard.”

Your guard is up, having learned at a young age that everyone always wants something in exchange for help. Hubert frowns. “Good question. I do not have spare time for such trivialities. I am not…. I cannot believe I’m saying this but I feel uneasy when you are unconscious. Call it a passing fancy or whimsical thought but since you have tried to put your trust in me, another Vestra, despite everything that you have experienced.” He reaches out for your head and gives it soft pats. “Definitely it’s because you had protected Lady Edelgard. And me. Which was very sweet of you, even though it’s also infuriating.”

You are completely stunned speechless now. You had not seen this coming. A Vestra ruffling your hair affectionately. Hubert von Vestra, at that!! The way he is playing with your hair mindlessly somehow makes you blush even more. Hubert chuckles again, his gaze dropping to study your flushed cheeks and strands of your hair in his hand. “Cat got your tongue, (Y/N)?”

“You don’t have to put it so bluntly, do you?"

Something touches your forehead, so gentle and soft that it makes you squeak out of surprise. A warm towel? Hubert strokes the pillowy soft clothes on your damp forehead and sighs with concern. “You really must take better care of yourself, mouse,” he finally said. Putting his hand on your temple, he grimaces bitterly. “Save your breath. You’ve got quite a fever.” 

“Y-you think you can put your hand on my head without asking?” 

“Can I do that or not?” His troubled expression looks much livelier, and more appealing than his usual.

Hubert is actually very dashing. If he smiled, anyone could fall for him in instant. Either from the terror or infatuation. You can’t help but to giggle involuntarily at the thought. Maybe it was your exhaustion that made you do it. Maybe it was just emotion, for whatever reason. Whatever it was, you lay a hand on Hubert's arm, making him flinch momentarily. Who would’ve known that hidden beneath that glove, his large hand is so warm?

“It feels nice and warm. A bit embarrassing but... it’s not like I hate the feeling. Go on. Thank you, Huey.”

“HUEY?” He flinches from your pet name.

“I think it is better than calling you a dark rat. Suits you better.”

Hubert takes a deep breath and gulps. His gaze is flickering to anywhere but your eyes. “I am taking care of you just because no one else does.” Suddenly his chartreuse eyes meet your gaze unflinchingly with unexpected warmth. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to lose my feisty mouse. Everything would be boring without your bratty mouth, sharp acumen, and that noisy attitude.”

“Huey......”

“You pushed yourself too hard.” He produces a fine handkerchief from his pocket and wipes another cold sweat that beads on your head before folding the cloth and placing it to the side. “Slow down and take care of yourself too. If you run yourself into the ground then you’re not going to be helping anyone. You're up past your bedtime. Go to sleep now, (Y/N)."

“I’m not a child! I need to go back to my quarters now."

“Might as well just stay here. You are as white as a sheet. You should not be alone right now.” Hubert suddenly seems like a different person. His lips are no longer set in a stern line and his eyes glint with sincerity.

“But you are a man and sleeping together is...!!”

“Rest assured, I will take the floor, it will be fine. Any objections?” The coldness seems to have vanished and Hubert’s faint smile is like the first buds of spring after a harsh winter. There’s a peculiar warmth about him. Maybe you’re curious about this other side of him, or maybe you are just too exhausted from the magic exertion... The next thing you know, you have acceded to his suggestion.

“.....Thank you, Huey. Good night.”