Warnings: Make out, virginity loss, sex, penetration, blood
Red camellias are a symbol of love, passion, desire, and undying love. This beautiful blossom was given to express that the recipient is the flame in your heart. For this reason, it is typically given to someone you truly love and desire.
Hubert and you have agreed to keep your relationship to yourselves. Not to mention that both of you always keep your physical display of affection at minimum, you rarely talk to each other save aside regarding important matters, war meetings, and group tasks. The secret glances you give each other when you are sure nobody is looking always make your heart stutter. Precious late night rendezvous with Hubert always becomes something you look forward to the most every day.
It’s astonishing how Hubert constantly finds ways to be around you…alone. He’d purposely get as close as possible while he walks past you. Small touches when he walks by seem innocent but they leave your skin on fire. He is hardly able to contain his smirk when he hears your breath catch from either a lingering gaze, casual touch, or even grazing your shoulder or arms in front of everyone. But never anything more than that. You are certain that Miss Edelgard often throws a knowing look or grins when you do. She knows. Nothing eludes her eagle eyes.
Sometimes when Hubert feels more daring, he often drags you to a quiet hallway and embraces you. Or kisses you. Or both. It’s comforting because Hubert is always being so respectful and asks for your permission before he does so.
Today is the fourth day in a row the Professor has assigned you to do an afternoon group task with Hubert. You are certain this is no mere coincidence. Not since Miss Edelgard often makes excuses to leave you both in the same room or do a task together. Are they accomplices?
“We're lucky to finish this with so little trouble.”
“You’re saying that after you almost lost your hand to a pegasus, Huey. Here, let me feed her instead.” You take the small bucket from his hands and stuff it with fresh grass. Rummaging your pocket you slip some carrots and apples as well inside.
“Spoiling her rotten?”
“You sound jealous, Vestra. But yes, I love her the most. She is kind and brave, and always lets me ride her gently.” Hubert’s lips turn into a thin smile when you roll your eyes at him.
“I can do better than her.” Hubert snorts as he brushes dirt and dust from some saddles and lathers them with soap. His gaze never leaves yours as he cleans the seats and applies leather conditioner on them meticulously.
“What do you mean?”
“You are fond of riding, aren’t you?”
“Come again? You can’t fly, Huey.”
An involuntary groan escapes from Hubert. His hand slowly drags down his face in an exasperated manner. It almost seems like he is wallowing in self pity. Your obtuseness made his innuendo remark fail miserably. Poor Hubert. This is the person he fell in love with.
Time really flies when you do things with your loved one. Even if it is just menial chores. Symphony of colors blend in silky smooth collusion of skyburst lavender, red, and orange into the calm of night. The sun has long gone when you are finished with the chores for the day.
“You have done most of the work, Huey. Let me fix you something for dinner. You are quite fond of meat, aren’t you?”
“Do not exhaust yourself.”
“I’ll take that as a yes, then. We can enjoy some coffee together after dinner as well. Let’s go to the Dining Hall.”
You dive into the kitchen and begin to season the meat, then turn to chop some fresh vegetables skilfully. Your fingers are dancing with much expertise as you boil the potatoes and mash them until they turn creamy and fluffy like clouds. A smile tugs on your lips as Hubert’s satisfied face pops into your mind when you drizzle the mashed potatoes lavishly with extra melted butter and chives to bring out its appetizing taste. Hopefully this will be up to his liking.
“Did something good happen, Hubert? It’s rare to catch you smiling by yourse—ah. Good evening, (Y/N).”
Oh, Miss Edelgard and Professor Byleth. You give them a short nod and continue your cooking. They look famished, especially Professor Byleth. You are almost sure that you can hear their stomach grumbling when they take a seat beside Hubert. Maybe they haven’t eaten in a while.
“Please let me cook for you, Miss Edelgard and Professor Byleth.”
You can feel Hubert’s appraising glare and Miss Edelgard’s mouth forms an ‘O’ shape when they watch you prepare the pasta and toss diced crisp tomato, carrot, broccoli, olives, boiled egg, and grated Gautier cheese into it. They try to stifle a laugh when the Professor's stomach growls louder. Maybe you should cook faster for them.
Moist, tender meat hits the scorching hot pan with a loud hiss. Its surface instantly glows when you sear them evenly on each side, turning every minute for the perfect caramelized crust. Robust herbs, butter, and some garlic dance with the steak in perfect harmony and make the whole room burst with pleasant aroma. It’s hard to not drool over all of these mouth-watering dishes.
“Thank you for your patience. I am sure you must be hungry. Vegetable Pasta Salad for Miss Edelgard, a rare steak and mashed potatoes for Huey, and Beast Meat Teppanyaki for Professor. I hope you find my cooking to be,” you wince and plant your eyes to the table when you try to say, “P-Palatable. I had to sear instead of grilling it to cut the time because you look starved, Professor. I hope you like it,” you say as you pour the resting juices over the steak and Teppanyaki and serve the dishes.
“Smells divine.” Miss Edelgard chimes and gives you a reassuring smile while Professor Byleth gives you a low hum of agreement and says nothing when they take a bite. Yet you understand—you really did—their face lit with bliss.
Again, that intense gaze from Miss Edelgard and Professor Byleth. The Emperor’s violet eyes widen when Hubert rises and pulls a chair beside him, motioning for you to take a seat in front of it. “Take a seat, (Y/N). Your food will get cold.” You just slid into the wooden chair with your steak when Hubert murmurs “Thank you” quietly. He pats your back and leaves his gloved hand on it a bit longer. This feels nice but Miss Edelgard and Professor’s observant eyes make it a bit embarrassing.
Hubert and Miss Edelgard exchanging glances, speaking without uttering a word in the way only people who had been partners for years could do. Miss Edelgard gives him a slight nod and leans back in her chair—a solemn smile never leaves her lips as she makes short work of the rest of her salad.
Beautiful harmony of moist and juicy steak explodes in your mouth but you are unable to think of anything. Not when everyone hawks down over you like eagles. Are they parched?
“I will brew some tea for us. And coffee for you, Huey. Please wait a moment.” You shift on your seat and bolt away to the kitchen.
---
“You have cleaned your plate. That is rare, Hubert.” Lady Edelgard's violet eyes never leave my face when she says that. I can see mirth hidden beneath them.
“There is no reason to waste good food. Her dishes are perfect.”
“So is (Y/N). Great for you.” Professor says.
She is very attentive towards us. And you, especially.”
Lady Edelgard raises one brow knowingly at the Professor's words and gives them a nod. Oh no. This won't end well. They know.
“(Y/N) is a good person.” That is the best word I can muster to avoid their suspicion.
“Only that? Something tells me you think more of her than simply a good person.”
Heat flushes to my cheeks at Lady Edelgard’s allusion.
Professor nods and gives me a deadpan look. “So how long have you two been dating? Or seeing each other?”
Cold sweat is beading on my temples from Professor’s question. Always straight to the point. I should have killed them when I had the chance. How do they know?
“Um. I am going to check on how the coffee is coming. (Y/N) might need a helping hand.” My legs move faster than I could comprehend, dashing at top speed to the kitchen.
---
The temperature is falling fast. Night sky is overcast by black clouds that are floating awfully lower, just a few meters above your head. And soon thunder and lightning fills the air. It was pretty late when you cleaned yourself at the Sauna after parting your ways with everyone after dinner. You are hoping that the clouds would escape so you could bring warm coffee and sweets to Hubert’s room without delay.
Faster, faster, faster.
Your hopes are dashed when suddenly heavy rain begins to pour. In a few seconds you are all soaked to your nightgown. To make things worse, lightning flashes dangerously behind you. The deafening thunder and howling wind do not help either.
Instead of knocking on Hubert’s door, you are chanting a sigil to put off his intricate ward on it. With a wave of your hand the ward from the door glows faintly and disperses. The door clicks open without much resistance now. Piece of cake.
“Just knocks will do, (Y/N).”
Suddenly Hubert appears on the far end of the hallway and glaring daggers at you. You can sense his ominous presence from a healthy distance away. Wise choice.
If you don't know better, you might think it was because he doesn't want to startle you. Hubert sure learned his lesson after the last time he suddenly warped behind you abruptly. As if he’d remember about the time he had crept up behind you, and you threw a sharp jab on his stomach and made him double over. Your lethal dagger inches away from his heart and Hubert’s hand coiled over your neck in deadly grip in seconds. Deadlock—the shock on his face, how easy it had been to douse his life away had you desire so, the humiliation of having your lethal reflex so out in the open, and immense guilt for purple bruises on your neck. Maybe that was something to be expected from two deadly predators. Except it ended in endless apologies, broken cups, and lectures from Miss Edelgard.
“My hands are full.” You stick your tongue out and nudge the tray softly on his wide open door. “Here, your liquid soul. Dark and bitter just like you. I brought some delicacies to sweeten it as well.”
“Coffee and sweets.” Hubert corrects flatly and prowls swiftly to take the tray from your hands. He’s so tall when you’re this close, you have to crane your neck all the way back to look him in the eye. Your gaze roams his face quickly, taking in the straight plane of his perfect nose, his razor-sharp chiseled cheekbones and jawline. His soft wavy raven hair, just barely wet, makes you wonder how smooth it will be if you run your fingers through it, before you settle on those gorgeous eyes once more.
A sly grin ghosts over his lips when he gives you a condescending look. “I might have mistaken you for a drenched mouse had I not known better. You look miserable, (Y/N).”
Ugh. This insufferable man. But... How unlikely. The plastered annoying smirk gone in an instant when he scrutinizes you. He looks around restlessly along the quiet hallways before storming inside his room to slam the tray and sweets on his desk haphazardly then yanks your hand to enter his room swiftly. You can see his burning red face when the door clicks and he faces you. A string of curses pours from his mouth softly.
“You—!!! Are you out of your mind!?” Hubert covers his eyes with one hand and casts a spell to dry your soaked body with his other hand. “I can see your whole body through your soaked nightgown.”
How embarrassing. A squeak escapes your mouth when you try your best to cover your chest with your hands as he drapes his cape over you. It smells nice, just like him. Like cinnamon, coffee, and vanilla notes. Ever so gentlemanly, Hubert turns his gaze away while busying himself to lock and cast another ward on his door. Multiple complicated sigils glow softly on it then dissipate into thin air. He turns his back to you to tidy paper and books on his desk to give you some semblance of privacy to fix yourself for a while. Your gentle tug on his sleeve makes him turn his gaze to you with a relieved smile.
“What brings you here? It is almost midnight, (Y/N). Lady Edelgard will see us for training tomorrow. Be sure to get some rest.” Yet, despite his words he lets you help him to put back the books to shelves.
“We know that neither of us are going to sleep any sooner, aren’t we? Your words are meaningless to me. I know you would do nothing to kick out a helpless lady like me.” Hubert only narrows his eyes at your jest. Helpless is the last word he’d use to describe you. Someone who could easily send the Master Tactician Claude von Riegan pissing in his pants and cowering for your mercy.
“Besides, I said that we are going to savor some coffee after dinner, didn’t I?” You rant as you put back the books in their respective places. He laughs a bit when you try to tiptoe and jump multiple times to reach a particular high place for the last tome.
“We already have some coffee in the dining room yet you are so eager to have another."
“But we haven’t. Both of us. Our coffee."
You can hear him mutter “Shorty” under his breath as he takes the tome from your hands and puts it on the highest shelf with no effort. Infuriating.
"Cut me some slack, dark rat!” Hubert lets out a hearty laugh at your witty remarks. A smile tips your lips when he drapes his arms around you, sliding them deftly around your arms, his touch warm and enticing. This is comfortable. The world turns around you as both of you melt into each other. You can’t hear the deafening thunder and pouring rain anymore. Just Hubert’s loud heartbeat and yours.
“Just be honest,” Hubert purrs. “Admit it clearly. Your lips were lonely, Pipsqueak,”
You blink at his teasing, remembering the coffee and sweets. Then it sinks into your head. “Absolutely!! That’s why I brought these cakes, scones, and éclairs, Huey!”
You arrange the sweets neatly on his desk and pull chairs for both of you to enjoy them. Pouring some milk in your coffee you feel relaxed as you watch the light and dark eddy together. Setting down the teaspoon, you sip and sigh at the rush of heat and smoky, rich flavor.
Hubert only facepalms at your obtuseness and snorts. “How predictable. As oblivious as ever.”
Yeah, that’s (Y/N) for you. Poor Hubert.
“We just ate a full course meal.” An incredulous look creeps in his eyes while he watches you munch on the cake.
You rise to your feet and stuff another scone into your mouth. “There’s always room for sweets!!” Stormy night do not dampen your cheerful mood in the slightest. Not with Hubert by your side and his bittersweet attitude that you are growing fond of.
“....If you say so,” He rises and tilts your chin up with his hands then cups your cheeks. “You will turn into a pig one of these days. These puffy cheeks look like rodents’ already. Squirrel.”
“Prick.”
“Strong vocabulary tonight, I see,” Hubert teases, hot breath fanning across your face. “Tiny. Pipsqueak.” He pronounces every word with a condescending look.
“How dare you!! Then I’m going to take you down with me as well, Huey!” You giggle and gulp down another éclair. Your tiny hands clasping his wrist to pull him down to your level and with some added pressure he tips forward, falling toward you on his bed.
“Tish ishh so tastyyyy. Here, happp somh!”
“I am not sure this is a good ide—!!” Hubert’s words come to a halt when you pop a whole scone into his mouth.
“Mmmph!!”
The scone makes Hubert’s pale face turn white as a sheet. He looks adorable when his cheeks are puffy like this, though. But his face turns blue quickly. Oh no. This is precisely why he said that it is not a good idea. You decide to end his suffering by rubbing his lower back softly and fetch his coffee. Hubert quickly sloshes the éclair down with quick gulps of his drink frantically.
“Careful now, Huey.”
You bring your hands up to his shoulders, allowing you to calm him so he won’t choke on the scone further. When he cracks his eyes open, they are inches away from yours. The light iris encasing darker pupils that are blown wide.
You stare at each other, taking the time to notice the details, like the flecks of rich gold in his eyes, small creases that form along his lower eyelids, or the silkiness of his thick, raven hair that still retain its curl. Hubert’s eyes are the most unusual shade of green and yellow, almost catlike. You are brought back as his right hand reaches higher, gliding over your shoulder to encase you. His head dips forward, pressing his forehead against yours as his eyes slide shut. Although you so badly want to close your own eyes as the fatigue lay heavily on them, you couldn’t. Not with Hubert laying himself so bare like this. The way soft breaths tickle the stray strands of your hair, how his brows relax, leaving their constantly dipped state. The way the corners of Hubert’s lips are tipped up. Those glorious lips.
“You almost sent me to death's door with a scone. A scone.”
“I’m sorry, Huey....” You twist your fingers on your lap, then pin your restless hands under your thighs.
The corners of Hubert's lips rise higher, into a full smile as he shifts and sits on the bed. Loud creak fills the room as he raises you on his lap. “You will be the death of me. Literally and figuratively, (Y/N). Whose fault is that?”
Your breath catches when he leans closer, his brows furrow again, allowing himself to take a better look at you, at the seams of silver in your eyes. He looks so youthful, so happy. Unlike his usual self. How rare it is to see him so cheerful. You have never seen him smile like that. Hubert is breathtaking.
You nuzzle into Hubert’s chest and hug his arms.
“You look so happy,” you murmur, his attention moving to your eyes. “It just— I’m not used to seeing you like that, Huey…”
His jaw tightens then he meets your gaze, “You feel sorry for me, is that it?” He mutters, a wall slowly rising behind his tired eyes. “No, I didn’t mean it like tha—”
“You pity me?” His deep voice rang out in the small room, “I don’t need your pity, (Y/N).” Bitterness laces his voice as he puts his jaw atop your head. Yet despite his gesture, you can feel his body grows distant and stiff.
“It isn't a pity,” you mumble, hands fist in the material of your nightgown. He remains silent. “I wish we could always be happy like this, Huey. You have this insufferable habit of keeping everything to yourself; not allowing anyone to even offer a hand. But, just like you have offered yours, I want you to let me help you more. I’d love to see you so relaxed and happy more often. I feel overjoyed when you smile. Your happiness is important to me.”
Locking your eyes with Hubert, you intertwine your fingers with him. “With our powers, the Black Eagles Strike Force, and Miss Edelgard’s grand ambitions, we can start a new dawn for Fódlan. We fight to reform the world we live in and forge a path for its future. That’s why I will spare no efforts to help Miss Edelgard to accomplish a better future. Her convictions will bring us peace.”
Hubert is at a loss for words, his expression is unreadable. Internally he feels greatly touched that someone truly wishes he has his own happiness and cares for his well-being. He is surprised that this is accomplished by a woman with a smart mouth and sassy attitude that melds perfectly with his silent and standoffish presence. Your knowledge of his training and history guarantees that you won’t be intimidated by his presence and truly understands him on a deeper level than most anyone could ever do so, except perhaps for Lady Edelgard. He is nearly overwhelmed with this reflection, his eyes glazing slightly as he comes to his realization.
Looking to the side you break your gaze with him, trying to reel in your mind that has wandered from its current course. “So how do you like the food I cooked for you?”
“Impressive work. The steak... I would love to indulge in such a delectable dish again someday. Lady Edelgard and Professor Byleth loved theirs as well.” A smile tugs your lips as when Hubert drapes his arms around you fondly. “I am not keen to dine with company often but thanks to you, that was more enjoyable than I thought. Thank you for the great time.”
“It’s been forever since we get to enjoy our time together like this, Huey.”
He tenderly holds your chin up with his long fingers, bringing his face close and kisses a stray bit of cream from just above your lip. “I am not one for sweet things, however that is exquisite.”
Hubert is not good with women but his words are so enticing, it makes your poor heart stutter. Heat flushes your cheeks at his words, then you tilt your head to give him a chaste kiss. He tastes heavenly just like the cream.
Hubert gives a short chuckle, his hand caressing your cheek fondly. Then, without a word, he leans close and presses his lips to yours. He begins as gentle as he's ever been, his kiss deep, yet reserved. It doesn't remain that way for long. Slender fingers comb into your hair and pull you more firmly against him. You let out a short breath through your nose, stifling a moan as his tongue presses past your lips. His delicious mouth kisses and trails down torturously. He suckles on your neck, sending thrills up and down your spine, the butterflies in your stomach are at a high frenzy, his mouth works to the front of your neck and down. He is kissing and biting his way down into your cleavage.
Hubert pulls you closer and deepens the kiss. His arms warm and cozily surround your body, making you moan into his mouth. Then at last, once your head is spinning and your body is burning, Hubert parts from you.
You don’t want him to stop, offering him encouragement you moan, “That feels good, Huey.” You could feel his smirk on your body as he feels your breasts through your nightgown. One hand is teasing your nipple, the other hand is fondling your breast gently. A contented groan sounds in the back of his throat as you caress his soft raven hair at the back of his neck gently. He nuzzles into your chest more, you can feel the warmth of his breath on your nipple through your clothing and it is certainly doing something to your resolve.
“(Y/N).... Perhaps you should return to your quarters. I may not be able to hold back any longer.”
Hubert is internally screaming at himself for not asking to remove the offending nightgown instead. He is afraid, no—terrified of doing something beyond what you are currently prepared to do. You make him feel normal. You make him feel like he could actually belong with someone. He doesn’t want to ruin this, he would wait for years if you ask. Or a lifetime.
“Maybe you should go back and call it a night.”
“No. I am not.”
“Are you sure? We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” he notices your body quivers like a leaf under his gaze.
“I’m sure. I love you and I want to be with you, Huey.” You confess sincerely, “But I feel nervous and afraid because I don’t know what to expect. I-I have never done something like this before,” you admit, your voice trembling, “I don’t know how. I hope my shortcomings won’t be a letdown for you.” You barely breathe out the words, your heart is beating too harshly against your chest.
“Perish that thought. You are perfect just the way you are. Your density may be exasperating but I do not loathe it. I never want to rush you,” he murmurs quietly, hands resting on your hips. “Look (Y/N), I am over the moon at your admission and to tell you the truth, I am more than happy to oblige. But I require to know if you are really ready for this. I am willing to wait as long as you need. I will walk you back to your quarters if you tell me to,” Hubert mumbles. His index finger plays with your hair. “But if you don’t want to wait,” he pauses and gulps, “If you really want me....” He trails off as he averts his gaze from you. The wind is howling outside of his window, unable to hide the mixed emotions dripping from his words.
He wants you, the thought finally sinking into your heart. This is all you need to urge you to lean forward, to let your lips connect and your tongues touch. He is hungry, he is desperate. You realize that you are too. The heat between you is almost unbearable as Hubert’s mouth litters your neck with red marks and lays you gently on his bed.
“(Y/N), look at me.” His voice is so serious, so gentle, “Are you sure about this?” He asks breathily against your neck as his hands pin you down firmly, he feels you tremble ever so slightly. The bed creaks with the added strain of his weight. This close, he somehow looks taller, more imposing. Hubert’s voice is hoarse and laced with desire. Long fingers digging into your skin in the most delicious way. You open your eyes and he’s staring down at you, those chartreuse eyes dancing with something that you can’t quite discern.
“I’m ready. I trust you, Hubert.” Your hands rest on his back, caressing mindlessly, trying to focus on something other than the nervous feeling in your stomach.
“Do you–” he swallows hard, butterflies fluttering like a storm in his stomach, “Do you even realize what you just said?”
If your thoughts have been racing before then, now they are flying. Your mind is completely occupied by Hubert. This is terrible—you are trying desperately to focus on remaining calm but it is proving rather difficult with your current situation.
Hubert hooks a finger beneath your chin, relishing your sudden intake of breath, and slowly leans his face to bring his chartreuse eyes back down to yours. "But first...” Hubert amends, “I need to make absolutely sure that you want this.”
You open your mouth to respond but pause as you remember what you blurted only a moment ago, the haze in your mind clearing and your heart slams in your chest, eyes going wide, anxious for his response. Words have failed you so you can only give him a quick nod at his question—gaze darting toward him despite red blush on your cheeks only darkening further.
“I would be more than happy to indulge you, my dear.” Bitter-tasting lips crash against yours in a passionate kiss. You moan against Hubert’s lips and match his pace with ardor. You don't realize just how hard he is until he grinds his hips against yours. There's a neediness in his movements that intoxicates you; it's so different from the cold composure you've come to expect from the emperor’s shadow.
A strangled whine flies from your mouth when he breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. Hubert’s hand fists into your hair, craning your head to the side, lips sucking harshly on your exposed neck, his sharp teeth nipping at the sensitive skin and then soothing the bruises with a lap of his tongue. A wisp of a smile dances on his mouth as his fingertips crawl up the front of your nightgown, a welcome weight as they curve over your breasts with a gentle yet firm squeeze.
You gasp for more but Hubert’s nimble hands move up to the ribbon on the low collar of your sleeping gown, tearing it off easily from your body and putting you on full display for him. His gaze devours you as you lay bare in front of him. Momentarily, he admires how docile and pliant you look, a welcome contrast from your usual obstinacy.
“You look good like this,” his admission a whispers against your skin, his lips dragging sensually over the round of your breast, capturing your hardened nipple between his teeth and pulling gently, savoring the mewls he receives. Hubert’s large hands breeze over your breast, teasing your sensitive nipples. He takes his time here, enjoying the swell of your breasts in his palms, the sound of your heart pounding, your scent now mingled with his own on your skin. Perhaps you ought to expect his slow, meticulous pace by now, but that doesn't make it any less agonizing. The dark mage smirks down at you, eyes alight with lust and you nearly come right then when he licks his lips, eyeing you like a feast.
He kneads one of your breasts in his hand while his tongue nipping and sucking greedily over the nipple on the other. an eager whimper escapes you—growing into a moan as his hands run down your sides, your back arching off of the bed as Hubert catches the nub between his teeth, giving it a harsh bite.
Hubert can’t help himself, hands trailing down your back, around the curve of your ass. There’s a teasing finger brushing against your heat, a featherlike touch that has you whimpering with delight. Suddenly Hubert flicks your clit with his finger and your eyes shoot open, gasping at the feeling. He looks down at you, kissing you to draw your attention back to him, a silent questioning glance in his eyes, whether this is something you want to do or not. You nod with confidence, granting him permission to go further.
Such a tease. Yet, even in the heat of passion, Hubert is always so considerate and treats you with utmost care.
Pressing kisses into your hips, his thumbs skittering across your inner thighs. Whines and moans slipping past your lips without your permission when his long finger trails further south, a teasing touch against your clit. Hubert’s movements are torturously slow as he pushes the damp fabric of your panties to the side and hums with approval.
“You are perfect.” His compliment is nearly a sigh, an admission of everything he’s ever wanted, everything he’s always been waiting for is you.
Hubert licks a stripe over your pussy, sighing at the taste of your wetness. His breath is hot, making you arch your back before he dives in, tongue flicking against you, then sucking softly. You shudder at the feeling, jaw hanging open and utterly boneless as Hubert fucks into you with his tongue mercilessly, sometimes biting down on the sensitive flesh. His name comes like a prayer from your lips as he relentlessly devours your core, occasionally groaning low along you. Your thighs clench around his head but he only hums against the sensitive nub, unbothered by your legs and your fingers that claw at his back, leaving crescents in its wake.
"Hubert... please...!" You whimper, and he replies with an exhale that may have been a laugh if he weren't so focused on his task. Nonetheless, he does grant you just a little more of the pressure you need, lapping at you with long, firm motions that send ripples of hot pleasure through your core. He presses to you, burying himself against your soaking wet lower lips, his hair tickling your thighs as they tremble beneath him.
You feel something coming over you. Something you’d never felt before. Something like a fiery heat rising up from your stomach where it was filled by his tongue. With each pump of his tongue inside of you, that feeling rises. It rises and rises until it crashes into you. You convulse with pleasure as Hubert ravishes you, the steady rhythm of his tongue sweeping back and forth across your clit drives you over the edge with his name a cry on your lips. Your body is shaking from the very first orgasm you’ve ever felt.
Hubert raises his head and surveys your body hungrily, green eyes half-lidded but alight with lust. A feline smile ghosts over his lips before he traces up your legs, brushing over your crotch. “Tell me,” his voice is lower now, like how you’d imagine him speaking to his enemies, trying to tear important information out of them much like he is with you. Like his need to know how hard you want this is a matter of life or death for him. “How fervently do you desire me, (Y/N)? Tell me what you want.”
Hubert would never admit that savoring the sweet nectar between your legs makes his usually sharp mind hazy with lust. He lowers his head to tease your nipple between his teeth, and you hiss with a mix of pain and pleasure. Your unexpected tug on his dark locks has him groaning against your skin.
You want to answer him but your voice only comes out as a weak soft whine, thoughts ebbing from your mind. Lifting your head, you meet his beautiful chartreuse eyes with your glassy eyes for a second. “I don’t know what it was but... T-That was... amazing. What did you do to me, H-Hubert...?” Every word is a struggle with the way he’s making you feel. You nearly choke on your words when you raise your trembling hand to reach his defined cheekbone.
“More... Please give me more. I want you, Hubert von Vestra. All of you.” You give him a sincere smile and brush your thumb over his cheek affectionately, staring right into his soul.
“Please give me all of you, Hubert. I am yours.”
His heart skips a beat. He is taken aback by your sincere words. No one has ever looked at him like that. Mixture of ecstasy and desire swim behind your glassy eyes without a hint of fear in sight. Hubert can't tear his gaze away from your soft expression, eyes full with nothing but love and pure adoration for him. Too much. It is too much and overwhelming for him.
“You’re... certainly something, (Y/N),” he mutters.
You’ve allowed him– no, begged him– to utterly deflower you, and from the blissed-out expression on your face, you love every second of it. He commits the scene to memory for… future use.
Begrudgingly, Hubert tears his eyes away from you to discard his clothes on the floor nearby. Impatient, Hubert decides that if this is going to go any further, the both of you need to be naked. And he’d like to savor this tender moment dearly.
He steps back, his eyes glowing dark with love and desire. The swift movement of his fingers unstrapping his weapons from his chest, thighs, arms, and heels with such grace has you pulsing with excitement. Knife, daggers, darts, poison needles, various vials and concoctions. He put them neatly in his drawers fluidly. His movements don’t falter, having done it everyday for years, it’s all instinct by now.
You bite your lip when his cock springs up, the restricting cloth no longer pressing it against his own leg. Hubert is thick and there are some prominent veins along his length. But the most interesting thing is... it is curved up.
Goddess, does he take your breath away. Moonlight casts an ethereal glow through the room, caressing his glistening pale skin and illuminating his face. Your eyes raking across the lines of his slight six pack. You are surprised to see his taut and muscular frame. Every veins and scars from battles are visible when the light hits him like this.
He looks angelic and he’s all yours.
Despite his calm facade, Hubert’s hands shake with excitement from the sight of you laid out bare on his bed, ready to be taken. He drops his pants and underwear down to his ankles before grabbing your hips and pulling you to the edge of the bed. He’s already hard and throbbing. Precum leaks from his cock and your mouth hangs open in a shocked gasp as you try to compose yourself again.
Hubert chuckles and makes a mental note to see what that pretty mouth of yours can do at another time. But right now, your dripping pussy looks much too tempting to ignore.
As if to prove his point, he brings his hand back to your drenched pussy and languidly, teasingly rubs circles around your pearl as if he had all the time in the world. You hadn't noticed how close to the edge Hubert had managed to push you when his precise fingers work their magic languorously. His hands are skilful even as his body burns with need. Your walls clench around him involuntarily while your fingers tangle in the sheets below you. You cried out in pure bliss. Sighs and gasps spill from your lips, a mix of moans and his name—a symphony of euphoria for his ears.
He works you through it as your legs twitch in the aftershocks, every stroke of your clit punching a small sound from you. You look the most magnificent like this, Hubert thinks. He climbs up over you, raises his hand to smooth over your damp forehead. “How are you feeling, (Y/N)? Do you want to resume this?” His voice sounds almost desperate.
A single bob of your head darkens his gaze. “Yes,” you breathe, gripping tightly to his shoulders. “Huey, I want you. Please." You pant heavily and stare into his glistening eyes. They are almost catlike.
Hubert smiles, moving again to align himself between your legs. The anticipation is killing you, eyes drifting down to his hard, thick cock. Hubert wraps his hand around himself, stroking a few times, spreading your slick over his cock; his eyes slid shut, a little crimson clouding his cheeks.
“What if I hurt you?”
“You could never hurt me, Huey.”
“Please make sure to let me know if I make you uncomfortable. Let us tread carefully.”
A soft laugh escapes your lips at Hubert’s serious words. This side of Hubert makes you wonder if anyone else ever saw it. He breathed out your name, leaning down to cover your chest with his, and you felt the tip of him slowly begin to push into you.
"It is really tight and warm inside."
Tears stream down your face as your body feels split in two by Hubert’s shaft. Painful. It’s utterly painful. Only an inch or two was forced inside of you at that moment, but you feel as if you’d already been torn inside. You can't stop the screams and sobs of pain as he pushes inside your body.
"H-Huey…. Hurt. It h-hurts….."
Hubert shudders when he finally feels the wetness touch his cock from inside of you. A trickle of blood flows out of you, coating his hard length. “Should we put an end to this? It breaks my heart to see you suffer like this, (Y/N).” His hands caressing your trembling back frantically. “I am sorry. I have gone too far and inflicted such excruciating pain on you.”
Hubert is guilt-ridden and retreats his cock from your body gently. He helps you to settle back onto his bed and proceeds to fluff some pillows and urges you to take an immediate rest. Grave solicitude etched in his features, eyebrows furrow with worry when he hovers around you and gathers various things from his drawers and cupboard. Hubert picks a silk handkerchief from his drawers and wipes your tears carefully—insists you to drink a vulnerary to ease your pain and pulls you into his arms.
“I apologize. I was too harsh on you. If you truly hate this tell me. We do not have to do anything if it is too hard for you. Like I said, I do not want to force you,” he says as he runs a gentle hand down your back and you nearly sigh at it. Numb soreness on your body feels a bit better from Hubert’s kind ministrations. It’s comforting to know that he puts your well-being over his desire.
“You’re not forcing me. I want this,” you assure him softly. “Just like how you put it into words... Let us tread carefully, Huey. I will brace myself.”
Hubert lets out a huff of laughter and smiles at your resolution. He actually smiles. Not his mischievous, condescending, scary smile, but a genuine smile. Your chest tightened at the sight. He really is beautiful.
He leans forward, pressing his forehead against your own. “Are you sure you want to continue?” Hubert watches with concern as he gazes at you once more, an unsure look flooding his eyes. But you have made up your mind and nodded slightly to him.
“Yes. We can take it easy, Huey. I feel slightly better now. Thanks to you.”
You nod subtly as he pressed his lips to yours again, pressing you back and laying you down on the bed. The two of you lay there in silence, his arms tighten around you and pull you in for a hug. Warmth bloomed all over both of your bodies during the embrace.
Hubert pulled back and brought a hand to your cheek, “May I kiss you?” You nod quickly as Hubert’s lips seek out yours, gentle and coaxing. Your lips move in tandem with his own while his hands find their way to your sides, squeezing and kneading at your flesh. A moan fell from your lips, the sound being absorbed by Hubert’s mouth. You thread your fingers through his hair as his hands snake up to your hips and sides, his warm hands drifting over your naked body. “Always so soft.”
Hubert smiles as he pulls back, leaning in to attack your neck. Your head falls back, giving him more access to the sensitive skin. His teeth graze your tender skin, and you gasp his name into the quiet of his bedroom. In return, he pulls you flush against him by your hips and bites down at the crook of your neck. All you can manage is an encouraging whimper, and it seems that's all he needs. Hubert’s lips travel up the side of your neck, kissing and nipping you until your fingers tangle in his hair and your head tilts back on his pillow.
The erotic movements of his lips and tongue, his body pressing you to the bed as he seeks out your bare flesh—ignite something within your core. The thought that somewhere deep within him, Hubert wants this every bit as much as you have.
The grip on your hips return, one hand moves along your skin to stop below the corner of your jaw, and bites a little harsher, a little longer. A spark of white heat shoots across your overly attentive nerves, pain and pleasure blending sinfully. You're near breathless by the time Hubert pulls away to observe his handiwork. His fingers delicately brush the spot where he's marked you, far too high for any of your clothes to cover—engraving your ravished face into his mind.
For a moment, he seems fixated on the sight. If you weren't potently aware of this to begin with, he takes a moment to observe you helplessly splayed out beneath him.
“Hubert?”
After a pause, he says, "This is the first time I see you make that kind of face, (Y/N). I am merely... imagining the others seeing these marks. Knowing that I had taken you," he meets your eyes, "Knowing that you're mine.” His beautiful unique eyes peer into the depths of yours, solemn smile returning to his face.
"I-I don't know what kind of face I am making, Huey… but I don't want to show it to anyone else than you."
"Rest assured. It will stay this way forever."
You're still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm by the time Hubert rises over you once more. Prowling above you, his touch is deceptively sweet as his hand at your cheek urges you to meet his gaze. "Can you continue? I will be gentle.” His voice is soft now, breath still heavy in his lungs.
The question itself is innocuous enough, but the evident strain in his voice, the way he's fighting to contain himself sends a tremor down your spine. Without a word, you nod. And that is all he needs before you feel the tip of his cock prods at your entrance. He's warm and hard—incredibly, achingly hard. Your face burning hot with a mixture of need and embarrassment when Hubert presses between the plush lips of your pussy—but he does not enter you, not yet. His thick member ruts between your folds, pressing against your tortured clit and coating his length in your arousal.
Chartreuse eyes locked with yours as he starts to spread you around his cock with gradually deeper thrusts so as not to hurt you, unable to suppress the moan that bubbles up in his throat when your wet heat envelops him. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you're grateful he'd spent so much time readying you; your slick coats the length of his manhood, welcoming him into your tiny pussy. Hubert is painfully long and thick. So much so, that you have a tummy bulge from his huge cock.
Hubert’s eyelids are heavy as he watches you take each inch of him, until he's sheathed inside of you to the base with one slow thrust. Here, he pauses, but not for long. He pulls back, then plunges into you once more, not forceful, but firm. The effortlessly sensual way he moves massages his member against your inner walls, stimulating your every aching, sensitive nerve. Already, you're panting, sighing and shivering beneath him—gasping out his name. The dull ache and mild soreness are still present but they become a bit more bearable now.
"T-This feels strange, Huey… I-It's a bit painful but I am fine….."
Your hands are caressing and scratching over Hubert’s back—already panting even though he hadn’t started moving yet. He pauses and watches you with worry. He moves his lips to your ear, kissing up your tears and jaw as he goes. “Is it fine for us to resume this?” He asks tentatively, his voice a touch raspier than usual. The question is in his eyes, asking if he could continue.
You survey Hubert. His whole body was flushed and sticky with sweat, his chest heaving. Sweat dampens his hair and you watch a bead roll down the column of his throat. Breathtaking. He starts to pound into you gently after you give him your consent.
“Do tell me if it becomes too much for you.”
With the remnants of his restraint, he's able to move carefully to start. Slow and steady—making your nerve endings smolder, heat brewing in your belly. Ever so slowly, Hubert pulls almost entirely out, and gently rocks all the way back in, pressing mildly but insistently.
His body is practically draped against yours like an overeager blanket. He clutches at your skin tenderly but securely. You do the same at him too—just as lovingly, just as desperately. You’re quite sure you’ll see some marks start to appear on your skin by tomorrow morning. The only evidence you’d have of how absolutely needy, how mad you drove Hubert with desire.
The slight pain is quickly being reduced to pleasure as Hubert lifts your hips, impaling deeply inside you. His cock fills parts of your inside that you had never thought existed. It hit a spot inside of you that makes you clench even tighter on him. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him to go harder. It feels so good, every time he pulls out and presses back in you feel your insides flutter with want and need. His chest is pressed up against your own, skin sticking, and dragging pleasurably.
Little moans escaping you with each breath. The delicious frictions where your bodies are connected only increase as you feel Hubert pick up his pace, kissing and sucking at your neck. He fills you with his cock over and over, the ridge of his crown grinding deep into you, the shaft throbbing and swelling as his passion builds. Your pussy flutters around him and he groans—the sound rumbling in his chest as his hips snap into you. He keeps a steady grip on you, holding you in place and pleasuring you to the edge of utter satisfaction and… oblivion.
The bedframe shakes beneath you as Hubert thrusts into you deeper, harsher. You feel his cock hit your core with each pass, setting off sparks in your mind and igniting your body.
"Aaaah!! It-It's...!! Hubert, I will–don't!!"
With a shuddering moan, you cream around his cock when he bites at the supple skin of your neck harshly—the overwhelming sensation washing over you suddenly. You're sure he can feel you squeezing and tightening, your pussy milking his thick member in the throes of your climax—bright white creeping in at the edges of your vision.
Hubert peers through hooded eyes as you arch your back, moaning his name while your whole body is thrumming with pleasure.
"Words can never adequately convey how much happiness you give me, (Y/N). You fill me with so much joy and warmth that I never dare to dream."
Those beautiful eyes may look entirely placid, but you notice the restless lust burning hot just beneath the surface.
He turns your face towards his, connecting your lips. His kisses are messy and fervent. Your skin is still on fire when Hubert pounds a few more times before stilling with a low, longing moan, warm cum coating your insides. He nearly collapses on top of you, propped up only on shaky forearms and you smile weakly at him, kissing his forehead.
It’s flawless, everything about this moment is perfect. When he pulls back, the both of you are trying to catch your breath, staring at each other with glazed eyes.
"I am not one to believe in Goddess and the Church. But being with you… This is heaven."
Your hands move from his damp hair to his cheek instead, fingertips tracing the structure of his chiseled face and sharp cheekbones as Hubert buries his face deep into your breasts, sucking one last mark to your skin while his body trembles with pleasure. He leans into your touch and whispers “I love you (Y/N),” like a prayer, over and over.
Hubert rolls onto his back, gently pulling you beside him, rubbing his hands soothingly over your back. He kisses you softly and passionately before slowly sliding out of your wet heat. Skin sticky and gleaming with sweat, you tilt your head to the side, brushing your mouth against Hubert’s chest and taking in his scent.
“I love you too, Hubert. Thank you. That was.... wonderful and—Mm? What are you doing?” Hubert gets up from the bed, quickly closes his cupboard and sets down some neatly stacked towels, clean bedsheets, and a small first aid kit on the bed.
“I have made quite a mess of you,” he pauses and glances at you, then averts his gaze to the soaked bed sheets. “Does it hurt? Please allow me to clean you up and fix the bed.” Your face flushes crimson when you notice mixtures of blood and cum on your thighs—and your naked state. Your attention is brought back when Hubert coughs nervously and prevents you from covering yourself with his blanket. “You might want to use this instead. The blanket is... soaked. Thoroughly.”
You squeak with embarrassment at his insinuation and put on the new blanket instead—after Hubert takes the chance to lean down and plant a kiss on your forehead. Smooth move. Your chest filled with warmth at his words and how sweet he cares about you.
The breath is knocked from your lungs when Hubert gets up, giving you the perfect view of his… marvelous backside while preparing some medicines from the box. His raven hair curls at the edges and around his head and he simply looks… delicious. Goddess, this male is your lover. After cleaning you up and tidying the sheets Hubert climbs into the bed again, folding you into his arms and helping you to apply some ointments on your body.
A smug grin creeps into his lips when he watches your face burn with sheer embarrassment when he brushes the balm against every hickey, bruise, and scratch. His deft fingers trace over every part of your body they can reach, and you feel a delightful shiver run down your spine from his reverent touches.
“Huey...”
You feel as if your heart is going to burst from the love that fills it as you reach up to kiss him softly—conveying every word, every thought, through that kiss. “Thank you,” you whisper against his lips, and he feels his heart swell with gratitude to the world for giving him an angel that would willingly hold his bloody hand and guide him out of the darkness.
Hubert leans to press light kisses into your neck, nip you gently, making you squeal, “What were you saying, my love?”
“I am also deeply, and unequivocally in love with you.” You poke at his side cheerfully and he sighs at your musings. Hubert’s ominous glare and intimidating aura never falter to make you want to get under his skin. It’s fun to tease and see the other sides of the stern black mage. “By the way, this is the first time you called me love. It has a nice ring to it. Perhaps you should do it more often, Huey.”
“If you're going to run your mouth, might as well make it useful. I should do something to that beautiful, sassy mouth of yours someday. But we can keep it for later.”
“What do you mean, love?” Your endearment seems to have quite an effect on Hubert. Despite his deep scowl you can see his pale cheeks turn crimson to his ear tips.
“Pay it no mind. You should be asleep.” He pulls you closer and kisses your forehead. His hands snake against your body, featherlight touches against bare, thoroughly loved skin—peeling off the blanket from you.
“So should you. And... Don’t take it away, Huey. I’m freezing here!”
“Then it will be my pleasure to keep you thoroughly warm. I am still not finished with you and we have all night long.” A strangled whine emits from your throat when Hubert licks sweat on your neck from your previous activities eagerly like a starving male. He takes great delight in drawing pathetic moans and mewls from you.
"Mn!! N-no. It feels weird. Don't lick me there. You are the worst, Huey. Ah….."
"Your face says otherwise," he growls as he pushes his finger into your core until he’s knuckle-deep and teases your bundle of nerves. He lets you settle but only for a second before he starts moving his finger against you. So pleased with how you whimper and keen out his name as he fingers you idly. He hooks his arms against your waist, bringing you close to him so he can press a kiss against your shoulder.
Ah. Such a bewitching, merciless demon. You had never imagined that Hubert’s carefully contained composure could be so passionate. Perhaps this is what prompts you to wiggle out of his stimulating grasp and turn your back to him and tease him further between your ragged breaths. “We really should go to sleep, Huey,” your voice sounds quite authoritative.
Hubert lets you know his answer by pulling your back into his chest and fondling your breasts in a totally teasing manner. His large hands lay against your chest, massaging them playfully before you feel his thumbs catch against your nipples, rubbing against them eagerly. It's then that you notice the warmth of his cock pressing in your back, his warm breath caressing your ears. “You are not getting any sleep tonight. I have only begun to show you the ways I love you, my dearest (Y/N).”
Against all odds, you manage to nod weakly. For a moment, only your labored breathing fills the bedroom as you catch your breath.
His magical talented fingers bring you to yet another orgasm–the prelude of your many rounds tonight.
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It's highly unusual to find someone that can outmatch Hubert's bright mind & prowess in magic expertise and lethality. An unnerving, mysterious, intriguing snarky woman with sassy attitude that is not easily get intimidated by his demeanor. Love is the last thing he'd expect from cruel twist of dark fate between them.
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Daffodil symbolizes rebirth and new beginnings.
“Objection!! You think that would be sufficient to capture Derdriu, the Alliance’s base of operations? What a joke.” Waving your hand, you raise your head to glare into Hubert’s eyes across the meeting table. His brows twitch at your remark as he folds his arms. Everyone is bewildered by your sudden shout. What kind of crazy girl that has the nerve to snarl at the Empire’s loyal retainer. “Charging head on into a blockaded city is not the wisest thing to do. With its naval port, Claude will lockdown the Aquatic Capital to maximize its defense. There will be lots of casualties if we go straight into the city.”
“We are in WAR, (Y/N). What do you expect?” Hubert looks at you incredulously as if you have grown a second head. All eyes are on you now.
“We should hit the port and open the city from inside instead.”
“Pardon?”
“From the sky with pegasi. Strong cold wind blows on the Guardian Moon and wyverns won’t do well in this cold weather. Unlike Almyran wyverns, ours won’t do well against harsh winter wind from Sreng mountains and Fraldarius. Burn the ships and catch them off guard with explosives.”
“That’s rich. Coming from someone who wishes to minimize casualties and rarely participate in battle.” He scoffs at your words. Yeah… Nothing gets past him. Unlike the rest of Black Eagles, you are not physically fit to participate in a battle. Being sickly and frail often misleads people to underestimate you. In your Academy days, you rarely participated in any kind of training or battles. Most of your days were spent resting in your quarters or infirmary. Classes were boring and achieving perfect scores is a mere child’s play for you. Fortunately, various books always keep you free from boredom and the monastery has lots of them. You have read most of the books in Garreg Mach, both in the library and Abyss. All of them, now.
Miss Edelgard raises her hand and urges Hubert to let you speak. Every suggestion counts in this decisive battle, after all. “What would you suggest, (Y/N)? Please elaborate.” You smile politely and ask everyone to follow you to the training grounds.
There are some Imperial guards patrolling the place when you arrive. Miss Edelgard dismisses them politely and asks you to explain your tactics after they file out of the training grounds, orderly, as she prefers. “This is what I want to use. It’s 1/50 scale, though,” waving your hand to make everyone stay back, you produce some small vials. “Keep your distance,” you said as you threw them to the air then blast them with a fireball. Bernadetta and Dorothea scream when the molotovs explode with a deafening boom.
“Magic and explosive.” Stone debris flies off everywhere and the tiles are charred black. You stride over the remnants of the explosion and nod confidently. “This will burn the ships in the port and produce thick smoke that will make the Almyran wyverns panic. Strong wind currents on this season will blows from the ocean toward the city, pushing the smoke into the city, causing distractions, giving us advantage on performing ambu—”
“How dare you expose Lady Edelgard to such a dangerous explosion! What would you do if it hit anyone of us?” Hubert instinctively tries to cover Miss Edelgard. After the smoke clears, he checks on her for any damage or injuries.
“Hubert, she asked us to stay away already. We are safe here.” Professor says with a deadpan expression. The Black Eagles are like 500 meters away or more behind you. It should be safe, really. Or... maybe everyone, except you. Hubert is glaring daggers at you, ominous purple flames rising from his hands.
The rest of the Black Eagles Strike Force watch intently, Hubert slowly circling around you like a beast on a hunt. A part of you wants to just stand still until he makes his move, but you stay in your crouch, watching, calculating his every move. He strides towards you and is ready to strike with his dark magic. He warps in front of you shooting orbs of dark flames. You are barely able to dodge them and leap to kick his hamstring forcefully. “Hands off, von Vestra.” Hubert growls at you angrily as he falls down to one of his knees, thanks to your strike. A joyful chuckle escapes your throat as you smack Hubert’s sleeve and seize the hidden dagger that falls from it. “Piece of cake.”
You could probably beat him in his sleep, with how good you are.
Loud gasps from the Black Eagles Strike Force can be heard even from this distance. It’s not everyday you can see someone able to subdue Hubert von Vestra. The tension is so thick that you can cut it with a knife. Maybe aggravating the Minister of the Imperial Household is not the best idea.
“Curse you, (Y/N)!”
Suddenly a searing hot pain burns at your shoulder. Did Hubert just… attack you with a Fireball? For real!? What a snake. Hubert snarls and evades your Bolganone. Thrice. Damn. What a pain.
“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.”
Hubert blanches at your words. His tea cup slips from his grip and shatters into a million pieces on the floor. It is impossible to tell what is going through his mind as he stands there silently, striking green gaze filled to the brim with thousands of emotions. You don’t want or need his condolences or guilt—not for your parents, not when you have missed them with every beat of your heart. He stares at your glistening eyes silently for a long moment that feels like hours. His footsteps are the last thing that you hear as he slips out the door.
Warnings: Suggestive content, sex, a little bit BDSM, loss of virginity
It comes as no surprise that red roses depict romantic love and passionate feelings towards someone, while a thornless red rose means love at first sight.
(While busting a knife sounds like a simple action, it melts around 1500⁰F (815⁰C). That requires lots of energy and concentration.)
Tiny specks of dust seemed to dance in the shaft of afternoon sunlight that slanted through the window. The afternoon sun bathes the room in its warm light when you wake up and find Hubert is no longer beside you.
You don’t know when you two manage to pass out, tired and blissfully asleep from all your pleasant late-night till dawn activities. The sheer curtains are swaying, back and forth, thanks to the cool breeze that sweeps through the windows. White fluffy clouds drift across the clear blue sky. It’s hard to imagine a storm was brewing last night with warm weather and cheerful birds singing outside.
You can still feel his hands roaming your body. You can still feel his hips thrusting into your own. You can still feel his lips against the hollow of your neck, against your ear, whispering your name with such affection, such love.
It is unfair of Hubert to be so tender beneath his unsettling exterior. He could say the darkest things with the sharpest of tongues, but in the same breath, wrap his fingers tightly around you and press a thousand kisses into your hair, reminding you exactly how much he truly cares for you.
The lives you lead are arduous and cold, and should have made for two frozen hearts. Yet you found yourself bathed in soft moonlight on a dark, stormy night enveloped in his embrace.
What a twist of fate. You gave yourself to Hubert last night. You swore you would never forgive nor let him in, but you did. You surrendered. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You have been fighting since your childhood since the tragedy. Yet Hubert managed to find his way into your heart. It was an irony. Yet you wouldn't have it another way. He has taught you a lot about self acceptance and forgiveness.
What would Father and Mother would think if they knew about your feelings toward Hubert? To reciprocate his feelings in earnest, to ask him to claim you. As if trying to cease the endless thoughts you shake your head and huff a small sigh. You have decided to not let the past and hatred conquer your life. Not anymore.
A mouthwatering aroma of food wafting through the air. Ah. There is a hearty soup, apples, and a jug of water on Hubert’s desk along with a note beside it. He even had your nightgown folded neatly on his chair for you to notice. You gently move his blanket draped around your chest and swing your trembling legs over the edge. Your legs ache as you sit up, slowly—careful not to upset your sore body.
Even rubbing your sore legs doesn’t do much to ease the pain and cramping. You try to rise and grab the note but your legs keep shaking and decide to give up beneath you right after you manage to take a hold of it. Even a simple thing like standing is strenuous now. Your legs are sore and you fumble down on the floor like a newborn fawn—along with the small note.
“I have to participate in today’s training. Be sure to get plenty of rest and eat properly.”
How thoughtful of Hubert. His sinister looks sure belies his kind heart.
Maybe skipping training and getting a fitful rest for the whole day would be the best option. You are about to stand up and pick your clothes when you notice a strange wall gap behind Hubert’s study desk. There are some well hidden books underneath his desk, tucked neatly behind the small carved secret space behind the shelves. It is well handmade.
A blade springs and pricks your finger when you are trying to reach for the books. Switchblade? How typical of Hubert. He put a trap in it. Maybe you have triggered the lever involuntarily when you try to wriggle your fingers inside the narrow space. Small droplets of blood are scattered on his rug and floor now. Hopefully Hubert won’t make a fuss of this.
Curiosity gets the best of you and you decide to concentrate to summon forth a small flame on your fingertips. Before you realize you have disarmed his trap and melt the knife away like butter—making blood drip from your nose, adding more crimson stain on his rug. Uh oh. That was quite exhausting.
Hubert will definitely make a big fuss out of this. There will be no end to his ramblings.
Thank Goddess the needle is clean from any kind of toxins. Hubert might have installed the trap recently—judging from the rust-free blade and clean cut on your finger. You are resolved to take a glance at the books after putting on your nightgown and fixing yourself with bandages from his first aid kit.
What makes these books so damn precious that Hubert is willing to go that far? Maybe they’ll help you to understand him better.
It wouldn’t hurt to read them along with this warm, delicious meal.
All of the books look well used and read thoroughly. You almost mistaken them for.... Sylvain’s had you not see lots of small personal notes and underlines in it. Neat, elegant, and sharp handwritings. There’s no mistaking it. They are Hubert’s.
Pages by pages. Book by book. Your face turns hotter and hotter than before when you make a short work of them and slam the last book out of sheer embarrassment. To think that Hubert had immersed himself in such obscene books!!
Suddenly a bookmark fell from it.
A handmade bookmark made from pressed red roses. This bookmark... wasn’t it made from a rose bouquet you gave him in your Academy Days? And yes, just like your suspicion, other books have several bookmarks in them as well. You can recognize them by their peculiar ribbons. Cosmos, daisy, carnation, daffodil, forget-me-not, lavenders. You could still remember it like it was yesterday.
Professor had asked you to help them tend the Greenhouse years ago. A nice change of routines you enjoyed so much. How lovely it was to spend your time outside of your quarters along with beautiful flowers. Sometimes Dedue helped you to carry the heavy fertilizer bags and wheel carts. It’s sad to think that things will most likely turn into the worst when you meet again on the battlefield. It is something to be expected when you have different beliefs and convictions.
It was fun to watch small seeds you raise with love turn into beautiful flowers that you gave to everyone in Black Eagles each moon. Everyone accepted those flower bouquets with smiles and gratitude, except Hubert.
The last red roses bouquet.
“I can not tolerate your pointless, preposterous behavior further. What are you hoping to achieve from giving roses to everyone in the Black Eagles every moon? You should cease your futile attempt to curry favor with everyone. Such useless, thornless roses will do nothi—”
His words are sharper than the roses’ thorns—but it stopped abruptly when he took notice of your patched fingers. You are almost sure you caught a flash of guilt in his eyes.
“It would be my utmost concern to not let anyone get hurt, lest from these roses thorns or any flowers that I had given to everyone. As I believe you are already aware, Seteth's younger sister, Flayn, has gone missing. I am merely hoping to make everyone feel a bit better for our upcoming mission with these red roses—our house color—including you, Hubert.”
Hubert flinched and only narrowed his eyes at your admission. His lips set out in a grim line as he scrutinized the roses cautiously. “Feel free to burn them if you are inclined to do so. You should be ashamed of your narrow-mindedness. They are safe, Vestra. Have a nice day.”
That’s your last words before you stomped out and dashed to your quarters—ignoring his glaring daggers.
To think that Hubert preserved and pressed every one of them into bookmarks! But the red roses bookmark is slightly different. He put your name in the corner of it. It’s as if he has treasured the red roses the most despite his venomous words back then.
---
A little rest really does wonder for you. You know everyone must have finished today’s training but you miss Black Eagles Strike Force so much—and Hubert. After cleaning yourself and changing your clothes, you are coming to visit the training ground. Your legs are shaky and unsteady. You have to put a hold on some things numerous times to keep yourself from tumbling down.
When you look back on the horizon, the sun is already setting. From bright orange to crimson, the clouds are painted in ever-changing colors as the sun sets.
Ever so vigilant, Hubert takes notice of your presence and smiles solemnly. “Ah, you are awake. How are you feeling, (Y/N)?”
Petra gasps when she watches your trembling form and darts like lightning to check on you. “Your steps are making me remembering of a newborn fawn. I am seeing many bruises and bite marks as well, (Y/N). Is it giving you much pain? Who is someone giving this to you?”
You swear you can hear Hubert’s breath hitch at her words, his shoulders stiffen. Even Miss Edelgard is throwing him a look. Everyone really has frightening, keen eyes—such fitting qualities for the Black Eagles Striking Force.
“Did I miss something~?” Dorothea chirps in merriment and stalks you. Her lips curves into a terrifying fiendish grin. Enough to send shivers down your spine. It is reassuring to have Hubert stand closer to you in a second and cover you with his cape protectively, as if trying to shield you from everyone’s curious gaze. When he feels your legs stagger he places a gentle, yet firm hand on your shoulder to steady you against his chest.
“Thank you Huey. Actually I want to ask you,” you pause and produce something from your satchel bag. His face turns white when he sees your bandaged finger and takes a glimpse of the oh-so familiar books. “I found these books when you left. They are kind of... graphics. And well used. You seem to have keen interest in these two the most. “ABCDs of Love” and “Passionate Life”. You had them bookmarked on page 178 and 236. Say, these bookmarks, are they made from....”
Hubert shrieks and yanks the books from your hands like they are some kind of blasphemy. He picks the bookmarks and tuck them delicately into his breast pocket, then burn the books away with dark flames—leaving no remains behind. He put his gloved hand on your lips to shush you. His glare doesn’t bode well. You can tell clearly that he will save this argument for later.
“Why you—!!"
“So Hubert is into that kind of thing....”
“Such an eye opener. Words fail me to show my astonishment as well, Bernie.” Dorothea winks her eye to Bernadetta and chimes “Guess Hubert is just a normal man, afterall. He has such a sweet spot for (Y/N). Don’t we all?”
Petra nods at the songstress and puts one hand on her chin—lost in her thoughts. “Many surprises to be watch this afternoon. I am having new understanding about Hubert.”
“Color me surprised. You have some distinct preference for books, Hubert.”
“Congratulations, Hubert.” Professor and Linhardt speak with their usual indifferent tone. But you can see amusement sparkles in their eyes.
“Why congratulations? Has something good happen to him?”
Each word sends a deeper shade of color that warms Hubert’s cheeks. His usual pale face is getting redder and redder by the minute. He looks like he is on the verge of melting anytime—but Caspar’s innocent question is a striking final blow for him. Hubert pinches his nose bridge with his shaking, gloved hand.
“NOOOOOO!!! What have you done to (Y/N), Hubert!?” Ferdinand barks angrily, his hand grabs Hubert by his collar. Both Ferdinand and Hubert’s faces are crimson now—albeit for different reasons. You are about to mediate between them but your legs have their own mind—trembling so hard that you topple. It’s almost a miracle how Hubert and Ferdinand manage to catch you by your forearms—your face a feet away from the ground.
“Are you okay? You ought to rest more.” There is a stark difference between Hubert’s gentle pulls on your shoulder and the way he pushes Ferdinand’s hand away from you.
A gentle smile tugs on your lips at Hubert and Ferdinand’s anxious looks.
“Thank you for your concern, Fernie. No need to worry. Sour look doesn’t match you well.” You giggle as you put your hands on his cheeks to form a smile on Ferdinand’s mouth and turn to Hubert. There are deep creases between his brows.
“I’m fine. It’s just.... That was my first time, afterall. I am sorry for my inadequate experience, Huey.”
Hubert blanches at your words.
You can hear collective gasps and murmurs from everyone around you, until Caspar breaks the long pause of silence with his innocent question, “I never knew that you two are in a relationship. For real? What do you mean by your first time (Y/N)?”
“What did Hubert do to her? Her legs seem hurt. Did Hubert harm her in a training sessi—” How astounding to see Linhardt covers Caspar’s mouth in a flash. You always thought that an indolent healer lacks strength but he proves otherwise with how easy it is for him to drag Caspar and Dorothea away dutifully.
“AAAAAAARGHHHH! SHAME ON YOU HUBERT!!"
You swear you are almost go deaf from Ferdinand’s loud shrieks. He is about to grab Hubert's arm when a large warp sigil suddenly appears beneath you, Ferdinand, and Hubert. With a flick of Hubert's finger the mark glows with blinding purple light and sends you three away from the training ground.
---
The hallway is deathly silent at this hour but the tension is a palpable living thing in the air. So thick that you could cut it with a knife. The mood is so dull despite birds chirping such wonderful melodies outside. Sunlight radiates through the windows on the second floor of the dormitory. It should be warm and comfortable. It should be. But in fact, it is not—not when there are two males glaring at each other.
What would you give to be able to go back to your own quarters for some semblance of peace, but you can't now–Ferdinand snarls indignantly at Hubert, his body trembles furiously.
"Curse you and your evil heart! There is so much other things to destroy but you chose to corrupt HER. My precious little sister! You have stolen her chastity, her pureness!!”
Ferdinand's eyes are set ablaze, similar to his flaming hair—erm, almost looks like mane when he is enraged like this.
Ferdinand holds your arms with tearful eyes, calling your name. “You should never let him deceive you. Hubert is a devil incarnate. A venomous snake." He points his finger at Hubert with furious eyes–then winces when he glances upon purple bruises on your neck, shoulders, and chest.
“(Y/N) is such a delicate creature, she is not as resilient as us men, and she is so soft and weak. You are a rough man Hubert! How unbecoming for you to force yourself upon poor innocent (Y/N)! Do you have no dignity as a noble?"
"Fernie, Hubert always treat me with utmost care. He never insists on doing something against my own will."
“You have heard her. She said yes, she begged me. I could not leave her hanging, Ferdinand.” Hubert smirks and glares condescendingly at Ferdinand.
“Hubert!”
“I am merely telling him the truth.”
You can only try to calm Ferdinand, who is wailing and grovelling on the ground with grief and anger now. Hubert can be mean when he wants to. He really doesn’t mince his words.
“My innocent little sister (Y/N), corrupted by this evil spider—luring her into his web to poison her.”
It’s heartwarming to have someone that cares deeply for your well-being. Ferdinand is like an overprotective big brother. “Fernie… Hubert did nothing bad to me. I am perfectly fine. Just felt tired and lethargic."
You help Ferdinand to rise and give him a reassuring hug, rubbing his back gently–that earns you a scoff from Hubert. Is he jealous of such a simple affectionate, platonic gesture? You can only facepalm when they are back at it again–another glaring contest.
Suddenly Ferdinand gasps and pushes you away softly, then ceases his hostility towards Hubert.
It's impossible to comprehend what's going on inside Ferdinand's mind. He only freezes and stares blankly at Hubert. His face turns from white to blue then green to red just within a few minutes now. Ferdinand is truly a man of thousands emotion.
Ferdinand realizes that it is impossible to tell you that his face is white with terror from horrid imaginations of million things that Hubert might had done to his beloved little (Y/N) last night. A momentary look of discomfort crosses his face when he thinks of the worst consequence–what if Hubert impregnates you and they become "family"?
Goddess Sothis, please forgive him. Even the mere thought of seeing a mini Hubert makes his stomach churning. How vexing! How ignoble of Hubert to ignore the grave consequence of his actions. Ferdinand clenches his fists and approaches Hubert with a grave look in his eyes. You're worried he is about to punch Hubert, but fortunately he is not.
"Hubert, may we have a word? I believe we have something important to discuss."
Hubert only raises his brow and nods solemnly at Ferdinand. He may not show it but you can feel his uneasiness somehow. They stride to the end of the hallway, a safe distance from you to talk privately.
You decide to feast your eyes upon the magnificent setting sun through the colored glass to give them their much needed time.
---
“Hubert, did you use protection?”
Ferdinand's sudden question really catches me off guard. Cold sweat is beading at my temple. Suddenly I find it is nigh impossible to retain my usual stoic, composed expression.
How could I have made such a grave error?
My eyes flickering around the hallway, walls, or doors. Anything but Ferdinand's bitter eyes. He has a point. Having a child in the middle of a war is a horrible idea. How could such an important matter elude my mind? Upcoming battles will be more taxing and we have to stay vigilant. A baby would hinder me from helping Lady Edelgard to achieve her grand ambitions.
"How inappropriate! You must not make a dishonest woman of her, Hubert."
I can only cross my arms over my chest, my mind is reeling at Ferdinand's harsh rebuke. Tinge of pain runs through my arms from my own violent squeeze, lest I fall apart but I do not bother to give a damn about it–not when I have put (Y/N) in such disadvantage.
My eyes dart to her tiny form, busy in her own thoughts on the other side of the hallway. (Y/N) notices my stare and gives me a pleasant smile, then going back to her own world. Alas. (Y/N) always seems to know when I've been looking out for her. She must have eyes in the back of her head. Yet, even simple things like that always make my heart filled with undescribable warmth.
"As much as I hate to admit this, I can tell that (Y/N) really loves you. If something were to happen to her–" Ferdinand's mouth pinched shut as though holding back what he really wanted to say. The tensing of his jaw betrays his deep frustration when his eyes narrow at me with such hostility. "I would beat you senseless if something bad happens to her, Hubert. You have to right this ignoble mistake of yours."
Ferdinand is right. What a mistake I have done. I am utterly ashamed of my lack of judgment.
I can still remember how she fainted and dyed my clothes and bed crimson with her nosebleed and blood cough. (Y/N) is so frail. She might not survive a childbirth. Our first time making love has made her so weak and left her legs wobbly now. I was too harsh on her last night. Childbirth may end her life–and I could not afford it. I could not afford to lose her. To lose the light of my life by my grave mistakes. If something were to happen to her, it would break my heart devastatingly.
It is not like I have never entertained the idea of a family of my own. To have (Y/N) by my side…. It would bring me great delight for sure. The likelihood of it depends on several factors and all to be considered in peacetime.
Bringing the war to close will lead to many other matters that need to be addressed as well. It could be some more time before I could rejoice at the possibilities–and some more time before children are even a consideration.
Would I, no–could I be a decent father? So many have called me heartless, would I be that way to my own child?
I can not say if I will be a good father or not. I certainly did not have a suitable role model for it. But, if the opportunity presented itself, I would not be opposed to fatherhood. Someday perhaps.
My eyes squint when I see faint blood stains on her bandaged finger–I need to admonish her later from breaking my trap forcefully and hurting herself. Judging from her pale face and nervous way of trying to hide it from my sight, she must have used her magic to do it.
Dusk is approaching but I can make it if I make haste of this. There are still some hours before dinnertime.
"Ferdinand." I run my fingers through my hair with shaking hands, dreading this nightmarish idea. But it has to be done. “I have things to discuss with Manuela. Please help (Y/N) to walk back to her quarters. Tell her that I will see her later."
"What are you going to do?! I am not your—"
And that’s how I take my leave and warps away, ignoring Ferdinand’s yells and shouts deliberately.
---
"How are you feeling, (Y/N)? Hubert has many things to talk about with Manuela and will meet you later. Would you like to get more rest in your quarters?" Ferdinand pauses then rubs the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart to the purplish bite mark on your neck. He is about to open his mouth but clamps it down in a flash, struggling to speak through the lump in his throat. "Or would you prefer infirmary instead? I could walk you there if you'd like."
"My quarters, then. I need my beauty sleep."
Ferdinand laughs at your banter but his expression strains when he observes your pallid face.
"(Y/N)."
"Yes?"
"Are you sure about this?"
"About what?"
"Hubert." Ferdinand peers at your shoulder as if implying his question, then pauses to unclasp his cape and drapes it over your shoulder. Maybe he did that to cover the bite marks from passersby.
Your eyes widen at Ferdinand's kind gesture but you nod and ease your way beside him. "Hubert is kind and caring. He might be a bit rough but he is a good man. Please don't be too harsh on him, Fernie."
He only frowns but chooses to remain silent at your words. Your head is pounding and makes you spin a bit when you are about to walk downstairs. You feel a bit embarrassed to have put your hands on the wall to steady yourself.
"... May I?" Ah. Ferdinand's hand. Deep concern etched on his face. Always so kind and caring.
"I'm sorry for bothering you, Fernie. That's really kind of you."
Ferdinand scoops you on his arms effortlessly and carries you back to your quarters. You murmur a quiet thank you and giggle when he swathes his cape to cover your legs.
"I saw you smiling in a way I’ve never seen before and I'm glad for you and Hubert. I really am," Ferdinand pauses and helps you to unlock your quarters door. He helps you to lie down on your bed and tucks the blanket high under your chin. "But Hubert should take into account about your delicate nature. I thought Hubert would be more gentle and think things through. I thought YOU would think a little bit harder too."
"Fernie…."
Ferdinand sits on the edge of your bed then looks to the sky outside your window. "I don’t have the right to steal happiness from the two of you. Yes, I was mean to him but I love you like my little sister and wish to not see you in pain, to see you come to no harm. I will fall to pieces if something dreadful were to happen to you."
Warmth swells in your chest from Ferdinand's kindness. Your lips turn into a soft smile as Ferdinand pats your head lovingly.
"I really appreciate all your thoughtfulness and concern for me and Hubert, Fernie. Thank you." Ferdinand is a bit surprised when you give him a hug, but he reciprocates it nonetheless.
"I'd be more than willing to teach Hubert a lesson or two for my special sister. You know you can always count on me, Ferdinand von Aegir!!"
He only pouts when you belly laugh at his remarks. Both Ferdinand and Hubert really do make you feel safe and comfortable.
---
“I thought it would be utterly bitter. But it is not. Thank you for adding so much honey into it, Huey.” You take another sip and sigh at the mellow sweetness, well-rounded flavor of gentle spice and good honey. “This must cost you a lot.”
Honey is apparently a relatively expensive commodity, a specific trade good that is quite hard to get. You can’t help but wince at this fact.
The mugwort tea is amber colored with lots of fine sediment suspended in it. The tiny particles hang almost motionless in the tea as you swirl it around your cup. They make the tea look thick and rich. It is supposed to be bitter with a distinct and strong herbal odor, yet Hubert manages to brew it to this degree of perfection. Actually it’s mellow with some pleasing delicate high notes of flowers and spice. He sure has magical hands.
Hubert only coughs nervously and looks away to watch the cloudless night sky. Humid spring day seems to melt into an even more humid spring night with air so thick it presses upon your skin.
"You should not bust my trap and melt the knife like that. Such strenuous action would aggravate your exhaustion." Hubert leans and unwraps the bandage on your finger and sighs with relief when he sees the wound is tightly shut, thanks to the vulnerary he gave you earlier. "And," Hubert rises and stands tall, glowering down on you with such tenacity. "I would appreciate it if you keep our first time only between us. It is NOT something to be said in front of others."
Hubert turns his back on you and reaches around his chest to unclasp his cape and unlatch his pauldrons that fall solid on the rug with a soft thump. His fingers deftly tidy up the offending articles and about to put them on your desk but stop in their tracks when you apologize. The line of his mouth tightened a fraction more but you can see his eyes soften a bit from his reflection upon your window.
“About the bookmark.... I never thought that you would treasure all of my flowers all this time.”
His shoulder stiffens.
“It would be a waste to throw them away. You put so much time into taking care of them.”
Ah. So he knew. As expected from Hubert. It’s a wonder to know that he even paid attention to someone who rarely showed up in classes back in the Academy Days.
“But why do you only write my name on the red roses bookmark? You were so keen to burn them."
“I changed my mind."
Hubert would never divulge the truth about the red roses; how your ire stirs something inside his chest. Something akin to curiosity and amusement. It’s uncommon to find someone who dares to stand against him, the shadow of the Adrestian Emperor. A red rose that marked the beginning of his interest towards you. Personal interest.
For several minutes you sit in silence, finally you ask “A penny for your thoughts, Huey.”
“Nothing. Just whimsical thoughts.”
Always so mysterious. But his fond smile makes you want to tease him. There is something about Hubert that always makes you want to test his patience and composure—getting under his skin. Maybe you really do have a knack for tormenting the stern man to enjoy his reactions. It's exciting to see him getting all flustered and annoyed.
“Ah. Actually page 159-165 looks interesting. And page 254. But you have burned the books. What a shame, Huey. To think that the notorious Count Vestra is willing to go to the Abyss Library to dabble with sexual book... I almost thought you were Sylvain’s accomplice.”
Hubert feels a bit offended to have you associated him with that sleaze womanizer. He scowls at your words but chooses to remain silent–even when you stalk and hug him from behind, burying your face in his back as you murmur almost inaudibly. “To be honest, I feel a bit relieved to know that you were nervous as well about this, just like me. Even you, a von Vestra, can be clueless about things like this as well. Yet, you are learning about it thoroughly, doing your best to make me happy.”
You can feel his heart flutters beneath your clasped hands. No sound can be heard beside the soft rustles of Hubert’s clothes when he intertwines his gloved hands with yours.
“I am deeply touched, Huey. Thank you. You are a fast learner.”
After a long pause, he turns and sits you on your bed gently then slumps to seat himself on the floor, his hands on your arms.
“You are truly something, woman....”
It’s impossible to stifle your giggle when you see Hubert’s exasperated, tired face. He only hums when your fingers trace along his sharp cheekbones and ruffles his raven hair affectionately. Another new side of Hubert that he never lets out in front of anyone—perhaps save from Miss Edelgard.
“You can be cute sometimes, Count Vestra.”
“Only for you.”
He lets you hug his face and melt further into your warm embrace. There’s a beat of silence but you see faint pink dust is growing on Hubert’s cheeks. No, it certainly does not have anything to do with the fact that he could feel your breasts, your nipples against him. If he could feel it this well, then it means that you aren’t wearing anything underneath the silk of your robe.
“Hubert.”
“Hm?”
“Last night was incredible. I don't know how to describe it but it felt a bit strange… uhm…. In a good, no–amazing way. Thank you.”
Hubert’s mouth forms an ‘O’ then turns into a tender, genuine smile. Your heart skips a beat when he watches over you affectionately.
“Your straightforwardness catches me off guard all the time. Always so distracting.” He chuckles before tearing the fabric away, exposing your body to the humid air.
“Hubert!!”
“You have been pushing over my limit today. Now, for your punishment....”
You swear you could feel his smirk before he bites and sucks on your nipple. The bed barely shifts when he leans and cages you beneath him.
“No need to worry (Y/N). I have memorized them. Why don't we rehearse the whole book, dear? I shall take care of you.”
This will be another long night.
---
Hubert looks innocent when he sleeps, like a child when he dreams, not at all like the deadly dark mage, the trained killer that you have seen on the battlefield. You lie awake, watching his chest rise and fall, as the starlight illuminates your quarters through the open window.
He fell asleep so peacefully after you made love for only-Sothis-knows how many times. After you called out his name as if it was both a blessing and a curse. As if it was a prayer to the Goddess herself. Unlike his threatening, cold, and sinister demeanor, Hubert is really loving–in private. Draping his arms over your naked body, he keeps you warm under your sheets.
Your whole body is screaming in painful cacophony, something to be expected after everything Hubert has done to you last night. You barely can feel your back, hips, butt, and legs now.
You can only wince when you peek over Hubert's faint fingerprints on your hips. Blinding white and stars filled your vision when Hubert pushed your hips hard into your shoulders, holding your hands down with his other hand with a vice-like grip. Guttural moans and groans from his lips and lewd squelch reverberated through your quarters as he rammed against you–railing you thoroughly last night.
There is a huge difference between Hubert's merciless pounds and his gentle kisses. Like heaven and hell. He smiled when you let out a short huff of breath and pulled back, staring down at you with half-lidded eyes. The way Hubert sings your name in such devotion–worshipping every inch of your body without faltering–always ignites sparks in your core.
Much to your chagrin, Hubert is really a man of his words. He didn't go easy on his promise to punish you thoroughly. He did. He really did. Dull pain is thrumming through the red marks of his hands that he had engraved on your butt. This is the true evidence of his words.
Hubert even made you count every spanking on his behest–relishing every whimpers and moans from your lips. That Vestra devil has the audacity to ogle you intently when you creamed on his lap, then made you have a taste of yourself with his finger–whispering "You are doing so well, love," huskily, warm lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
Even the mere brief reminisce of your last night's activities make you flush a bright red profusely now. Hubert really is the worst when it comes to teasing you. Someday, perhaps someday, you'll make him taste his own medicine. You have to settle this matter with that evil man and make this even.
But not now. You are far too comfortable snuggled in Hubert's embrace to dare to reach for your clothes to save you from further embarrassment. His slow breathing was everything that could be heard in your quarters. You kiss Hubert's chest, your lips lingering on his skin over his heart as he hums softly.
"Awake already? How are you feeling, (Y/N)?
"Sore, thanks to a particular someone. But… maybe I wouldn't have it the other way. Maybe." You turn to look up at Hubert innocently.
He only chuckles and rubs his forehead on yours at your answer. "Feisty as ever. I shall prepare breakfast for us. What would you like to eat?"
"I think we slept the whole day, Huey. It's evening already."
"Wha–?!"
Harsh knocks and loud growl on the other side of your door sends you and Hubert jolting awake cautiously—it is almost comical that you two brandish your weapons at the same time—yours a dagger beneath your pillow, blazing black flames at Hubert’s hand.
“Damn you, Hubert. I am 100% sure that you must be inside with her. Not only have you defiled my little (Y/N), you are locking her in her own quarters all day long now!”
There’s a brief pause before you could hear another squabble and loud groans. You could barely hear soft knocks on your door–it's barely audible with Ferdinand's endless wailing. He really got it bad.
Sorry, Fernie….
“Hubert, we have weekly meetings to attend. Open the door. No. On second thought, do not open the door. Get dressed and grab something to eat, then meet us at the evening meeting.”
Gone is the flickering fire on Hubert's hand. He freezes with shock when he hears Miss Edelgard's command. The beams of the moon sneaking in between your windows only accentuate his pale face further. A heavy silence fell upon the room until both of you could hear no more Ferdinand and Miss Edelgard’s bickering and footsteps.
“I have failed Lady Edelgard terribly. I have overslept and missed almost all of today’s meetings, save the last one.” Hubert's ashen expression betrays nothing. Utter despair.
“We can attend the next meeting, Huey.”
He scans your whole form from head to toe, observing every bruise and bite marks littering your body. “This would cause another commotion. And Ferdinand might beat me the first time he lay his eyes on us.”
He pulls you into his lap and hugs you from behind. You can feel Hubert's devilish smirk when he cups your chin and plants another hickey on your neck–earning a mewl from you; his other hand seizes the small dagger on your palm and puts it on your desk. “We are really cut from the same cloth, you and I. I should ask you to remove all of your weapons as well next time, (Y/N).”
An impish grin tugs on your lips at his words. You try to slip away from Hubert to put on some clothes; only to fail miserably with harsh thud—planting your whole face to the floor. A small whimper escapes from your throat. It hurts. Everything hurts now.
“Please forgive me, Huey. I don’t think I could partake in any activities this week. My whole body is killing me. I can’t even feel my lower body.”
“Ferdinand will kill me now for sure,” he sighs as he helps you to sit and carry you back to your bed. “I will make sure to ask Manuela for some healing salves, ointments, and herbs. She gawked at me incredulously last evening, but I am sure she will faint from the shock tonight when I ask her for more… herbs and medicines."
And that’s why you have to spend the rest of your days in your quarters that week—thanks to Hubert and those cursed books.
---
Thankfully Black Eagles Strike Force takes really great care of you on that week (especially Ferdinand and Miss Edelgard). Everyone often drops by, even Bernadetta–she slipped cute crochet dolls of you and Hubert, whispered that she is wishing you a speedy recovery. But the most memorable one was Professor Manuela.
That brave woman who came to your quarters was all over Hubert for being so rough and merciless to you. She counts over 100 hickeys, 38 bite marks, not to mention the countless bruises from sex.
"You have thrashed this delicate flower within an inch of her life! I know you are both young and curious–trying to make up for your lost time, but you need to pace yourself, Hubert. I know (Y/N) is gorgeous but you are going to kill her with your love marks by the end of the moon this way," she admonished Hubert and dabbed cold salves on your inner thighs. A bit sticky but it feels soothing. Healing salves, it seems. Spasms of vexation cross her face when she gave you an Elixir and poked Hubert's chest with her finger indignantly. "To think that even a dark, ominous male like you has a better love life than me!! I'm going to be single for the rest of my life at this rate."
Your stomach hurts from laughter when Professor Manuela grumbled about being green with envy and how she has no luck in romance. That bites the big one for her. But her gloomy countenance changed when she watched your bright smile. The songtress was enchanted and offered to come to your side if something changed your mind about Hubert—which made Hubert glare murderously at her.
Special Note:
What's "ABCDs of Love", one of Hubert's personal "educational" favorite book?
In Japan in the 1980's, the term A, B, C, D was often used as a euphemistic metaphor for the degree of sexual intimacy achieved in intimate encounters or relationships between lovers.
Description of each letter representation is as follows:
A: Any form of mouth to mouth kissing, especially "French" kissing.
B: Feeling or groping of breasts or genitalia, either through clothing or directly skin to skin.
Warnings: Graphic description of violence, gore, and blood, making out.
Snapdragons can represent strength, grace, and deception. But they can symbolize love and passion as well.
Their death is surprisingly quick. The spy had not uttered a sound when I pierced his chest. Killing him with magic would have been too messy, too conspicuous.
I feel the warm blood spill out of their chest over my knife and onto my hand. I knew I had done the right thing. I knew it. They were nothing but a threat to the Black Eagles Strike Force. Not only did he have the audacity to try to leak out important information about our strategies, they even tried to sneak another spy inside our flanks. The choice was clear from that point on.
I pulled my hand away with the knife and more blood fell to the ground along with their limp body. The final dregs of their life had left their face as they crumpled silently to the ground.
A fitting end for someone who is willing to sell our information to the enemy. Just one more reason to be overly cautious in the future. I remove my blood stained knife and quickly wipe it with a handkerchief from my pocket. I will never turn a blind eye for a bastard like them.
Another day. Another corpse.
I cannot risk being here longer. Time to go back to the Monastery and report this unsavory matter to Lady Edelga—
“Ah! Here you are, Hubert!” My hand moves in reflex to hide the knife and blood stained handkerchief when Ferdinand calls me out of nowhere. How did he manage to find me in this forest?
“There is an assassination attempt in the Dining Hall and (Y/N) has captured the culprit. I am worried sick for her safety. We sho—"
My blood ran cold from Ferdinand’s exclamation. I cast a Warp spell and we were gone before he finished his sentence. Please be safe, (Y/N).
---
Panic runs into my brain. My lungs are burning and I feel out of breath. I feel relieved when I see that there is no sign of hurt or wounds on (Y/N) when we arrive at the Dining Hall.
Cold and unyielding, those beautiful eyes are deadly and lethal. A true killer. Vicious and lethal. I see no hint nor traces of emotion in them. Unlike (Y/N) that I used to know. She looks down on the injured man from atop a pile of broken glasses and plates, knife in her hand glinting menacingly. Various utensils are scattered on the floor haphazardly. Red and black are painting the ground sickeningly. Blood and… charred wood? Soot? I can see Professor and Lady Edelgard from my peripheral vision. They stand side by side and have their weapon at the ready.
Everyone is surrounding both of (Y/N) and the culprit with bated breath, including myself.
There is a loud crash that reverberates through the Dining Hall. Even my trained eyes cannot follow her movement when she slithers behind the man and locks his arms on his back, another hand is holding a kitchen knife right to his throat, the sharp side is digging on his jugular. Precise and effortless.
“Who has sent you?” Her sharp words send chills down my spine.
Blood trickles from the assassin’s neck as (Y/N) scrapes the knife slowly on his neck. The man is on his knees, his back straighten stiffly. A satisfying amount of fear glimmers in the his teal eyes when he involuntarily grits his teeth and still managed to force out, “Adrestian wench” to (Y/N).
That scum.
Ferdinand loses his composure at his insolent manner of speech and leaps straight to the man with his iron lance. This is bad. His abrupt strike surprises (Y/N). The assassin exploits her opening to lunge and attacks her with a head butt to her jaw. Another wave of relief washes over me when I see (Y/N) is able to evade the attack with feline grace. A true embodiment of perfect beauty. Not that I would admit it out loud to her.
My Dark Spikes barely reach their target when the assassin pivots on his heel and sets his aim on Lady Edelgard. He reaches for his breast pocket and attempts to lunge at her.
(Y/N) shifts her weight and flies into a somersault, leaping high to strike the assassin before he could attack Lady Edelgard. She kicks his head then plucks a dagger from her bosom and shoots it right on the man’s spinal cord without blinking an eye. A swift, clean, and merciful death. Not even a single speck of blood spilled on the floor. Not until she lands on the man’s back and slit the knife across his throat effortlessly.
“Why did you kill him?”
“Better safe than sorry.”
A cloud of warning settles over my features as I storm to (Y/N). Red explodes in my vision, and I couldn't breathe fast enough, couldn't think above the roar in my head. One heartbeat, I glower into her eyes–the next, I seethe. “That assassin might have countless important information regarding his plot and employers.” My body is shaking with rage and concern. Either for her well-being and the loss. I can’t tell. But I am sure it is the latter. Or I wanted to believe so. “Things that we could extract from him have gone with his death! You should not be so reckless.”
(Y/N) lets out a heavy sigh and bows her head deeply.
“My abysmal reflex has put us in disadvantage. No words can make up for my failure. He has tried to bring harm to Miss Edelgard with this.” Rummaging the man’s inner breast pocket she produces a vial then throws it on the table in the middle of the dining hall. The piece of wood becomes black with loud hiss when the substance splatters on it. Sulphuric acid?
“This vitriol oil could burn your insides and kill you if ingested. It is a strong acid and highly corrosive. Sulphuric acid can cause severe burns and tissue damage when it comes into contact with the skin.” She stalks over the man and tears his sleeve to seize more vials filled with that colorless acid. I can hear the collective gasps of everyone. They are squirming with uneasiness. Growing apprehension is palpable in Lady Edelgard’s violet eyes. “I found him prowling around the kitchen at dawn and managed to corner him here. He has poured those vials into our breakfast and utensils. It is odorless. That's why I had to break everything. Please pardon my impudence.” She shifts between her legs and stares at the floor.
Ignoring murmurs and astonishment from the Black Eagles, Professor gives (Y/N) a reassuring nod. “(Y/N),” they interrupted her thoughts, reaching up and lifting her head from where it had been glaring at the floor. “It’s okay. You did a great job. Thank you for saving Edelgard and everyone. You have our gratitude.”
“I can’t put the Black Eagles life at stake and Miss Edelgard’s safety is my utmost concern.” Her smile is radiant and breathtaking. She is about to turn on her heels when she catches my gaze and gives me a knowing look, then gestures to me to follow her later. I will make sure to stop by her quarters. I need to chastise her for being so reckless.
---
Shivers run through my spine as the spring wind licks up the back of my neck, the air cooling as the sun descends quickly between the thick trees. I have changed into my casual clothes and while they are warm, the chilling wind's bite is colder than I had anticipated. My feet walk mindlessly toward (Y/N)’s quarters but instead of knocking on her door I decide to warp inside.
“Sneaking up on me is unwise, Huey.” She says to me without even batting her lashes.
My chuckle dances through the room at her remark. I always find her sharpness to be enchanting.
“How did you find that man?”
“I was unable to sleep after you left so I decided to walk around the monastery. I asked you to come to my quarters because it wouldn't be wise if they knew that you had killed someone as well, Huey.”
She pauses and points to a minuscule speck of blood beneath my glove. Opening her drawer she takes two soft towels and dips them into warm water then gives one to me.
“We do need to maintain secrecy, don’t we?” She sits on her bed and cleans the bloody kitchen knife. When did she take that? Always so agile and meticulous. “The path we must walk...is soaked in blood. And the pool of blood at our feet is growing larger. But I don’t mind it at all. For Miss Edelgard’s sake.”
“I share the same sentiment, (Y/N). She does not need to trouble herself over these trivial matters.” I wring the wet towel and dab it on my glove to wipe the dried blood. After making sure that the towel is clean, I fold it neatly and put it back on her desk. “Still, you need to take better care of yourself.” I nudge a particular spot on her waist gingerly and she flinches in pain.
“How did you find out, Huey?”
“You were swaying when you got out of the dining hall when you thought no one was looking. Why didn’t you tell anyone? Or me?” I do not understand what this suffocating feeling in my chest is when she winces and clutches at her side painfully.
“Fernie noticed but I told him to not sweat over this. Just a small bruise.” My eyes narrow at her words. I cannot comprehend which bothers me more, her pet name for Ferdinand or bluish purple bruise that peeks at me when she sits on her bed and pulls her shirt up a bit.
“That assassin managed to slam me into the chairs before I hit his solar plexus and subdued him.”
I kneel before her and produce a vulnerary from my pocket which she accepts readily. Her gaze never leaves me as she drinks the potion. I can tell even without looking. It is making me uneasy. Like a predator and its prey. Unyielding intense glare that never falters even when I am standing tall and trying to not make any eye contact with her.
“You care. You really do, Huey. Thank you.” As if appraising me (Y/N) lifts her head with a slight smile then looks, really looks, into my eyes. Gorgeous doe eyes filled with trust that make my breath hitch.
She smells like milk, honey, and fresh soap. How intoxicating. Blood is rushing to my head, my breathing gets quicker. I could feel my own heart beating out of my chest. Damn (Y/N) and her ways to distract me.
“Stop that.”
“Stop what?” Her brow furrows at my words. Confusion is blooming on her gorgeous face.
“Please do not look at me like that. About my confession, I truly mean my words. I really do, (Y/N).”
“!!!”
“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.’
Tonight will be another sleepless one for me. So off I go to the Abyss Library to broaden my horizon.
Lavender flowers represent purity, silence, devotion, serenity, grace, and calmness.
Days seem to blur and blend into each other. Two weeks have passed in a flash. It seems like the two of you are back to how you were before, but things have been a bit better with Hubert. Simple greetings, knowing nods, and pleasantries are common but nothing more than that. Hubert never calls you Pipsqueak or mouse again. He doesn’t seem to mind being called Huey, though. That's a remarkable progress, really.
Last week was a rough one for you. Barely leaving your quarters, you feel uneasy spending time with Black Eagles Strike Force. ‘No one would want to have a monster among them’. You just can’t forget the terror in everyone’s eyes that day in Derdriu. Dorothea, Ferdinand, Bernadetta, and Caspar watched as your devastating power was sufficient to tear apart the port city and made their leader fall to his knees.
You thought they would avoid you like a plague. But you were wrong. Lindhardt and Dorothea always knock on your door gently to check on your health. Sometimes they slip books or decorative ornaments to you. Professor and Caspar are taking turns delivering meals and snacks. You are sure that they will turn you into a pig if you decide to stay inside of your safe haven any longer. Those foods can last for a whole month!!
When they succeed to drag you out from your room, Ferdinand and Petra often take you for horseback riding around the monastery despite your reluctance. But all of those early and late riding times turned out to be fun and you enjoyed them more than you thought. Something to look forward to everyday.
Now that you think about it, you get the feeling that Hubert told Miss Edelgard and Professor Byleth about your.... condition. You can tell from their knowing glances. That is jarring but you know he's just being... attentive. In his own way.
A warm smile tugs on your lips at the bittersweet memories from last evening. Bernadette was trembling like a newborn fawn when she handed the delicate flower and animals embroidery with Petra. Such a beautiful, intricate handiwork. You can still remember her deafening shriek of panic when you hugged her cheerfully as a token of gratitude. Sadly she fainted afterward. Poor girl.
It was Ferdinand who helped you and Petra to bring Bernadetta back to her own quarters. After making sure she's okay, Petra excused herself to do her patrol duty. Ever so gentlemanly, Ferdinand walks you back to your own quarters and asks you to spend some time with him to enjoy some festivities in the nearby town tomorrow, you kindly accept.
If it were not for everyone’s warmth, consideration, and thoughtfulness, you would still lock yourself in your dark room. The Black Eagles Strike Force is so kind and you cherish them a lot.
---
Hubert’s POV
“Are you sure about this, Hubert?”
“What do you mean, Lady Edelgard?”
“You always make faces whenever (Y/N) is spending her time with Ferdinand.”
“Pardon?”
“You should tell her about your feelings, Hubert.”
“What kind of feelings? She is just another member of our Black Eagles Strike Force.”
“But you seem to hold her dear to your heart. How many times do you mention her name to me everyday?”
“I never think of (Y/N) in that way. I treat her just as I treat everyone else.”
“.... If you say so.”
My conversation with Lady Edelgard this morning made me feel anxious. I can’t shake her knowing look, violet eyes glimmering with curiosity. Much to my dismay, (Y/N) is an impeccable lady with a beautiful mind and gorgeous face. Sometimes her snarky attitude may be annoying but I do find it to be amusing, or endearing most of the time. Just another fun specimen to toy with. I think her short-no, tiny height, puffed cheeks, and gritted teeth are... appealing. Like an angry mouse. A silly one. Maybe that’s why I am so keen to spark a fight or two with her.
When (Y/N) descended and gazed upon us in Derdriu, her cold glare made my head spin. She took my breath away. Riding the black pegasus with furious Bolting swirling and crackling around her, (Y/N) is the true embodiment of death itself. An angelic beauty that holds death at her fingertips.
The idea of laying my faith upon prophecy and the Goddess will has never crossed my mind. It is blasphemy as I do believe that humanity must forge its own path. But that day, (Y/N) made me think. What if the Goddess is real?
She has every right to hate me because of the treacherous things my father executed upon her family, equally disgraceful things he organized against the Emperor. He slaughtered the House that laid out the foundation for House Vestra. Yet she chose to save Lady Edelgard and me, Hubert von Vestra, the heir of her nemesis.
When she called me “Huey”, I was sure that I might combust right away. It was only by years of training I was able to stand that heavenly melodious voice. The way she called my name in such a lilting melody.... What should I do?
Crack.
Black ink smears across the paper and my desk now. Another quill broke by my hard pressure. This is the fourth time this morning and I can’t help but to scowl at the fact. No, no, no. This is not good. I can’t afford further distraction. Damn her. “What are you doing to me, (Y/N)?”
Splotches.
Darn. The ink pot has fallen to the floor now from an involuntary sharp jab of my forearm, staining the red rug with its bleak color. I lost my focus for a second and the next thing I know, my mind is led astray to (Y/N) and her beautiful eyes. This won’t do. I need to go out and take a breath to clear my mind.
I rise from the chair and stretch my legs and spine, taking some vials from my drawer and uncorking them. Laying my weapons on the desk neatly, I take little to no time to cover them with the thick liquid from the vials and strap them back in my sleeves, waist, thigh, and chest. Even a partial dose would be enough to stop the heart of a wyvern. But it failed miserably against (Y/N). She never ceases to amaze me. No, no, no. I have to stop thinking about (Y/N). I must.
An exasperated groan escapes from my lips as I shake my head with discontent and resume my morning routine before casting wards on my quarters’ door and stride toward the dining hall.
Sunlight is dancing on the monastery lake and the wind is fluttering the leaves of a nearby tree. Only birds and the chittering and rustling of small animals can be heard on this early morning. But sudden footsteps catch my attention.
“It is giving me much happiness to know that (Y/N) loves your embroidery, Bernadetta. She really loves the flower crown that I made for her as well.” She waves other flower crowns and hands them to Bernadetta and Dorothea. “We are twins, now.” Petra chirps with much pride and joy.
“As much as I want to ask (Y/N) to celebrate the festival of Devotion in the nearby town, she has turned down my offer. Ferdie beat me to it.” Dorothea grumbles and nudges Bernadetta softly. “I bet he is going to confess his feelings to (Y/N) this evening.”
What?! I could feel my blood freeze.
“Ferdinand often takes her for a walk. I think that could be possible.” Petra nods at her statements and folds her arms.
“Are you sure? I thought (Y/N) was getting rather close to Hubert.” Bernadetta asks timidly.
“Talk about possibilities.” Dorothea pauses and looks at Bernadetta. “Professor asked me to fetch some supplies in the nearby store during the festival. Are you willing to accompany me to go there, Bernie? I could use some help to carry those goods.” Bernadetta shrieks and scurries behind Petra.
“Yes, Lindhardt has been complaining about our shortage of vulneraries these days.” Petra looks over Bernadetta and helps to readjust her garland. “Thanks to Caspar and his hardness in his training. It is giving me much headache.”
“Too bad Hubert turned down my offer yesterday to go along with me.” Dorothea complains. “Actually, I was planning to set him up for a date with (Y/N). The Festival might be a good chance for them to get closer and—”
A date at the festival with (Y/N)?
I can’t think straight. Faster than lightning, I storm to them with such urgency. My mind is reeling and chastises me for losing my composure but I can’t stop the words spilling from me. How pathetic. “Where will this so-called festival be held?”
Dorothea grins like a Cheshire cat and shoots me a funny look as she hands a small pouch filled with gold coins. “I would be grateful if you could do me a favor, Hubie. Please help me to buy monthly supplies for Black Eagles Strike Force as well along the way.”
“I will complete the assignment.” This woman and her silver tongue. “I require some items to be purchased as well.”
“What do you need to buy, Hubie?” Was her eyes twinkling? I hate them.
“Ink and quills. A large quantity of them.” My boots are tapping against the ground restlessly. I must have my composure and not rouse any suspicion. “What did you mean earlier by your comment about Ferdinand and (Y/N)?” Every word feels like lead in my stomach.
Dorothea puts her hands to cover her mouth, trying to stifle her giggle but I can still hear it. If her eyes were twinkling before, they are shining mischievously now. My patience is running thin. It often eludes my mind how this songstress always finds a way to get under my skin.
“Ferdinand loves to take (Y/N) horseback riding these days.” She sighs and lays her hand flat on her forehead dramatically. Mittelfrank Opera diva and her antics. “He asked (Y/N) for a romantic date today. Maybe those novels that I lent to him sparked some ideas in his head to confess his feelings to her at twilight in the town near Garreg Mach. I wonder if they’ll be courti—”
I have no time for such balderdash. My fist balls at Dorothea’s words. I don’t need to hear the rest of her ramblings. Something in my chest cracks and I feel as if something is burning, breaking, and pushing so painfully—that I have to put a hand to my heart. I don’t understand what these feelings are but one thing that I know for certain, I will make sure to not let it happen. Not on my watch.
Flicking my fingers and conjuring a Warp spell, I take my leave without further delay, ignoring Dorothea and her ear to ear grin. Petra and Bernadetta are shivering from her cunning, sly nature. Fox.
---
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.
“S-see you tomorrow, Hubert von Vestra!!” Pivoting on your heel, you shove him out of your quarters and slam the door viciously. A strangled whine escapes from your throat when you hear him stifles a laugh and walks away from your door. Burning sensation on your cheeks makes it hard for you to get any sleep that night.
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While bluebells represent kindness, purple bluebells flower meaning also includes mystery.
It’s warm and nice. Soft scent of coffee, musk, and old parchment paper fills your nose. Bringing back millions of memories from your childhood, smells like your Father’s study room. How comfortable and nostalgic. You shift, feeling blankets wrapped around you. Suddenly a cold, feathery touch brushes over your forehead, making you jolt up in panic. You shoot up from the bed, panting and breathing heavily. Covered in cold sweat and burning fever, you flop back to the bed as relentless pounding pain strikes your skull. You can feel someone’s presence and a soft mumbling sound but your hazy mind and vision makes it difficult to tell who it is.
“Fa...ther?” Your voice is hoarse and barely audible. Each word is spoken separately, each a struggle to get out. Raising your hand, you smile and try to reach for the person, you feel a large hand pushing your shoulder gently, attempting to make you lay down while you attempt to struggle into a sitting position.
“Do not even think about trying to get up. And... I’m not your Father.”
Slowly opening your eyes, you let out a squeak of surprise and fear, locking eyes with the human sitting next to you. Your mind is reeling, trying to recall the details of prior conversations. You didn't remember returning with someone, but wait... that’s...? Hubert? The heir of House Vestra is sitting in a chair beside the bed, you notice with a start. He is reading a book. Or is pretending so. The book is upside down. Poor attempt.
“You are ill. You should not be moving around,” Hubert grumbles without looking up. You glower at him, ignoring the tone in his voice that is nearing concern.
“I’m okay.”
“You are NOT.”
Hubert slams the book shut in emphasis. Setting it aside, his eyes turn to bore into yours, sharp and perceptive. You find that you prefer it when he is ‘reading’.
“You are staying in bed until you heal,” he chastises firmly, making you flinch. “You have already hid your sickness from me twice. I’m not letting that happen again. You are staying in bed and this is final.” You froze as he said that.
Twice? So... Hubert DID notice about your poor health on that ravine? This doesn’t sound good. “I am very disappointed in you.” His growl rumbles through your chest and makes you shudder.
“I-I’m fine Hubert.”
“I worry about you, (Y/N). You cannot hide your pain. If you are hurt I must know so I can help you. I do not want anything happening to you.” Hubert shakes his head and brushes his hair back with his hand. You never really saw his whole face until now but he had such striking features. The look of those piercing chartreuse eyes surprise you along with the sharp cheekbones that were hidden behind his hair.
“What happened... Where am I?”
“My quarters. (Y/N). Has this happened before?" You try to nod but your head barely moving. Why does it have to be Hubert of all people? You swallow the shame and pull the blanket to cover your face quickly to hide the uneasiness. “I’m okay. It just tires me out sometimes. Just lost my balance a bit. No big deal”. It is rare to see Hubert without his black cape. Your eyes widen when you spy his white clothes soaked in crimson.
“This is yours, (Y/N).” Hubert points at his chest solemnly as you look at him in shock. Oh no. Things may have gotten out of hand. That blood... so that’s why you aren’t feeling well. Magic always makes you feel unwell. But never this bad. The silence between you stretches too long. You squirm and try to get into a sitting position. Your hands are still a bit wobbly but you managed to do it somehow with Hubert’s help. He placed two extra pillows behind your back to keep you steady.
Hubert looks at you with an expression you couldn’t read. “Have you...,” he snarls quietly, but the words are all the harsher for it. There is a hidden edge in them, surely promising that fury is simmering beneath his facade. “No. How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” Hubert storms suddenly, in that same sharp, dark voice he always seems to use.
“....Yesterday?”
“Of course. How foolish.” A deep frown etches on Hubert’s lips as he places a bowl of chicken porridge and places a glass filled with warm milk on the nightstand beside the bed. The dining hall only serves porridge in the early morning. This porridge is piping hot and filled with many ingredients that you are really fond of. How does he know? Ah, forget it. Hubert always knows. He always has his ways to get his information, as expected from a Vestra.
He’s a great cook, to your surprise. Even the carrots are cut into flower-like shapes! Anyone that will become Lady Vestra is a lucky woman. Hubert will be a good husband for sure. Not that you want to be his wife or anything.
“It’s safe. You need not burn it with your gaze, Pipsqueak. Gnaw it to replenish your strength.”
You pout at his remarks. Okay. Perish that foolish thought. What an insufferable man.
“I can tell, Hubert. I may be sick but am not stupid. You put a soft boiled egg, sliced chicken, ginger, chives, carrots, and sesame oil here. Pork stock was used instead of broth for extra depth of flavor. There are even some Teutates Pike floss inside. And this was made about an half hour ago.”
Hubert is bemused at your flawless explanation. “I expect no less from you, (Y/N).”
He pulls his chair closer to the bed and sits as he watches you make short work of the delicious porridge and milk. It tastes even better than it looks, reminding you of your Mother’s cooking. This truly brings back memories of your childhood. To think that Hubert is the one that did that for you... What a joke. A cruel one at that.
“So now I suppose I’m indebted to you,” you drawl begrudgingly. “Thank you, Hu—ugh!!”
Suddenly you feel lightheaded and hard to breathe. A cough wracks your body, turning into a complete coughing fit. Your chest and throat ache and burn, but the cough refuses to stop. When it does, you are left a panting mess. You try to move your hands to your face to settle your spinning brain, but all you feel is seeping, sticky warmth pouring from your nose. You are surprised to see more blood on the blanket and your hands. Both are soaked crimson now. Nosebleed? The once splotches of crimson have turned into sea, spraying from your nose.
“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.”
Somehow sleep finds you easier that night, unlike your other previous nights.
Orange lilies can symbolize hatred and disdain. But they can also represent rejuvenation within the soul. This rejuvenation can also lead to new beginnings or a different path.
Days fly awkwardly after you told the truth about your parents death to Hubert. Despite never bothering to ask him to keep it between both of you, somehow you know that he will spill no words to anyone. Save for Miss Edelgard.
Hubert often evades you like a plague these days but you can feel it back in your mind that his eyes are always pinned on you. Having trained at a very young age about espionage, weapons, poisons, strategies, and magic made Hubert’s ploys an amusing mockery for you. Not to mention that he always follows you whenever he thinks that you may not know, especially on the corridor hallway at night but you decide to not say anything about it.
You can still remember it as clearly as yesterday. How Marquis Vestra slaughtered your Mother for her persistence on protecting Emperor Ionius IX until her dying breath. It was well known that their bloody fight was gruesome and deadly. Had Marquis Vestra not resort to using underhanded methods and worn her down with hundreds of his elite men, Mother would have won for sure. Therefore, he was mortally wounded and got lots of permanent injuries from that battle.
Not a day passes without the memories of Prime Minister Aegir and Count Bergliez sickening laughs that filled the air as their men burned down your house and massacred all of your loyal subjects on that bloody day. Were your Father didn’t protect and sent you to your distant relative’s house secretively at the cost of his own life, you won’t survive that mass murder. Being the sole survivor of House (F/N) always haunts you even to this day. It saddened you so much that you had to abandon your family name for the sake of your own safety. To the point that you had to enroll in Garreg Mach with your distant family’s name.
But still, you can’t shake Hubert’s pained expression as he excused himself from you that night. The whole experience left a bad taste in your mouth. However, just as you promised, you do participate in the battle as a Dark Flier.
---
Everything went well as you planned with minimal casualties on both parties. Things have been safe since you made a good use of the bow that Professor gave to you on your birthday back then in your Academy days and barely use your Reason magic today. Most of Claude’s soldiers get captured without much resistance and civilians have evacuated safely. All of those sleepless nights spent on making those molotovs and explosives sure paid off.
Billowing smoke and strong wind current make it hard to weave through the remnants of Derdriu. The smell of ashes and blood filled your nose and the smoke brought tears to your eyes. You were flying side by side with Petra when you saw Ferdinand, Caspar, Hubert, Miss Edelgard, and Professor Byleth. Things look grim as Nader and his troops cornered them while Claude is readying his Failnaught. Ferdinand had to escape and bring gravely wounded Caspar on his horseback. Petra nods at you as she parts her way and flies down to help Ferdinand to fend off the enemies that tried to pursue them.
Strong gusts of wind make it hard for you to descend between them. You saw Claude is about to shoot at Miss Edelgard and Hubert is quick to jump to shield her.
“Don’t hold this against me, OK?”
A blood-curdling shriek can be heard as Claude’s arrows lodged themselves on Hubert. Blood is flowing freely from his shoulder as Miss Edelgard is looking at him with concern.
“Hubert!!!” You shriek when Claude smirks smugly and readying his Failnaught for another attack. What if Claude knocks another deadly strike on Miss Edelgard.... or Hubert?
Raw power bursts forth as you barrel down at Claude and summon Bolting to strike at him. Bolts of energy crackle around your hands as devastating pillars of thunder explode in blinding white light torn the ground asunder and caging him. His albino wyvern gets panicked and crashes down to the ground when the Bolting licks its wings. Claude is barely able to evade his demise as he ducks out beneath the wyvern’s wings, mouth hanging agape as he watches your lightning branches on the ocean surface and electric discharge spreads out. Exploding thunder wreck almost all of the ships on the harbor and electrocute fishes, leaving devastating and shocking impact on its wake.
Destructive force of your Reason magic makes Black Eagles Strike Force and Claude’s troops agape and quiver with awe as you descend. Stumbling through the rubble and debris, you haste your way through what used to be Derdriu harbor. So many buildings had been levelled, so much had been burned... You had never meant for this to happen. But you feel relieved to know that there are little to no casualties in this war, thanks to the explosives.
A dry laugh escapes from Claude as his legs wobble. He falls to his knees and shakes his head in disbelief. But his disappointment fades when the Sword of Creator nudges against his jaw, makes Claude raise his hands high in the air. “You razed my harbor into piles of rubble and ash with those crazy explosives and almost sent me to the other world with that mad magic. The silent ones are the most dangerous and you sure live up to it, (Y/N).” He shouts at you exasperatedly.
Claude approaches Professor Byleth and Miss Edelgard to explain that he is leaving Fódlan. He asks Miss Edelgard to show mercy to the Alliance and his former classmates and reveals that he has arranged for control of Alliance territory and resources to transfer to the Imperial Forces. You could barely get the grasp of his talk with Miss Edelgard and Professor Byleth as you are calling and helping Lindhardt to heal Hubert. As much as you despise the Master Tactician for harming Miss Edelgard and Hubert, you are relieved to know that Claude is spared.
Doing your best to ignore the frightened look from Ferdinand, Bernadetta, Dorothea, and Caspar. You are quick on your feet to check on Hubert’s injuries. What if they think of me as a monster? That I’m just a heartless abomination of mass destruction? It hurts to think that you might lose your home, your last home. Your comrades—Black Eagles Strike Force.
“(Y/N). May I have a word with you?”
Soft pat on your shoulder brings you back to the present. Claude is standing behind you with a tired look. What if he wants to have his revenge on you? Claude waves his hand casually in front of your eyes, trying to get your undivided attention. You can feel Hubert’s shoulder tenses when you nod at Claude and hand the gauze rolls to Lindhardt. He only frowns and gives a handkerchief to you. “Do something about your tears, (Y/N). Overthinking will do you no good. Go on, I can heal Hubert just fine. No need to worry.” Lindhardt pauses, then rubs his chin absent-mindedly. “Just make it quick. All of this blood makes me squeamish.”
Your cheeks are soaked. Had Lindhardt not tell you, you would never realize that you were crying from the sheer panic. Could smoke really make someone cry that much? Was it because of Hubert’s wounds? Or because the dread that gnaws at your heart, thinking about scornful and frightened gaze from the Black Eagles? Your train of thought is coming to halt when Claude winks then gives you a cue to follow him.
He takes you to take a shelter underneath a tree, putting considerable distance from the others. Still, you can feel Miss Edelgard and Hubert’s gaze burning holes in your back. You don’t even have to turn around, you could practically feel fury and anger spread all over the area. Especially Hubert’s. It’s kind of unsettling, really. Clearing his throat to remind you of his presence, Claude folds his arms. “As much as I hate it, you have my gratitude for trying your best to keep the casualties at minimum, (Y/N).” He said with a lopsided smile.
“I hate unnecessary bloodshed. That’s all.”
Claude smiles at your words, his smile only gets wider as he notices Hubert sends him a murderous glare from afar. The dark mage is absolutely seething, liquid fire rushes through his veins. It does get worse when Claude flings his arm on your shoulder and leans closer. Every once in a while Claude is making eye contact with Hubert, a jaunty grin is plastered on his lips.
“I see that you have the hots for that dark mage but my best advice is don’t let him use you for Edelgard’s ambitions. Never let your heart get the best of you.” Claude whispered in a barely audible voice that made you flinch. His breath grazing at your earlobe sensually. His words sent your cheek ablaze with embarrassment. Gosh. Such blasphemy. What nonsense!!
"Not in a million years!!"
Tearing yourself from him, Claude laughs at your skittish jump. But that laugh dies down fast, his emerald eyes glinting with a hint of sadness in it. “If only you chose me instead... We could be great together, (Y/N).”
“And what..? To have you use me as your pawn instead?” You snarl at his words.
“Haha, always so bitey!” Hurt flashes in Claude’s eyes but he just nods at your comment. “....I'm sorry,” he muttered. Claude tried to laugh it off but pain and irritation flicker in his eyes briefly. Nobody would be able to see it. But you can, thanks to your trainings in the past.
His smile disappeared as he examined you. Claude takes a quick glance at the surroundings and speaks quietly. “Take better care of yourself, (Y/N). You are as white as a sheet.”
How did he realize? Claude is really sharp as ever.
“Now... Let me give you a token of gratitude as a parting gift.” He shoots a shit-eating grin at Hubert, then leans to you and says under his breath softly. “Feel free to thank me later.” Suddenly Claude pulls you into his embrace and gives a soft kiss on your lips. Your. First. Kiss.
“C-Claude!!!” You shriek and push him away frantically. What’s going on in his head? People will get the wrong ideas with his playful, lascivious behavior! It was brief but... but!! If only Miss Edelgard and Professor Byleth had not spared him! What you would not give to kill him right here and now.
“Whoaaaaa!!!” Claude shouts.
Dark Spikes T flies right past both of you. Had Claude not seen them and not agile enough, he'd be dead for sure. A large crater was formed right in between you and Claude from its impact. Heavy plumes of smoke flow from the ground on its wake. There are several deadly spikes glowing in eerie dark purple, pinning Claude’s yellow cape to the ground effectively. It’s as if they were ready to explode anytime if Claude made a wrong move or two.
“Sorry I missed. Was aiming at your head.” Thick, dark sinister aura emanates from Hubert. He is clutching at his bandaged shoulder but still looks deadly as always. If Hubert was angry before, he is outright fuming now. Blazing dark purple flames roaring around his arms, something you had never seen before. Numerous dark orbs are dancing around the dark mage, his anger ready to rain down on Claude. And those words. Your words. That rat. Smart rat.
You chuckle at his brazen act and give Hubert a knowing look. He just nods, a deep frown etches on his lips. Well deserved for Claude, though. That silly tactician would be a goner for sure had Miss Edelgard not ask Hubert to cease his hostility.
Why did Hubert, of all people, get so upset about the kiss, though? But your weary mind can’t think of any good reasons and decide to save it for later.
---
Stepping slowly out of the meeting room, you bid your goodbye to Miss Edelgard and Professor Byleth to get some much needed rest at your quarters. Waiting for them to go away, you are rubbing your forehead to chase off dizziness that begins to consume you. World spinning on a different angle as you totter silently to your room.
Serene sounds of wind in the trees and the rustling of leaves sure help you to ignore the pain of exhaustion. Leaning on a nearby pillar to catch your breath, you watch the moonlight dance on the monastery lake.
Your heart is a raging beat in your chest, in your throat. Only a few feet now—to your quarters, bed, rest—
A large gloved hand wraps around your arm lightly. “(Y/N).”
That deep husky voice. Hubert. Impeccable timing. Cursing under your breath, you whip around to see him. Your weariness must have gotten the best of you that you have failed to notice him stalking you. Or he does get better at his skill. Or both. You don’t bother to think. Not with this painful headache. Standing behind you, Hubert pinches the bridge of his nose with confusion on his face. “Why? Why did you save me? Don’t you hate me, (Y/N)?” His hand presses on his chest.
“....”
“Your magic... What is it? Such devastating power could bring a rise and fall to empires.”
“It’s just a regular Reason magic, Hubert. Nothing special.” You snapped at him, then turned on your heel. Excruciating pain that pounds on your skull is getting more unbearable now. Faster, faster, faster.
“I am no fool, midget. To hold such immense power, you—"
“I was only trying to help. Now... I’m not in the mood for your ramblings, dark rat. I must take my leave now.” Your gaze flit from his bandaged shoulder to the look on his face, evidently coming to a conclusion. “You ought to get some rest as well. Good night, Vestra.” Turning away from him, you fasten your steps to go back to your quarters. Such enormous magic sure makes you feel worn out and weak, your vision starts to blurs and fades.
“Don’t just say that and then walk away.” Hubert pulls your hand but your wobbly feet give up on you. World tilts dramatically onto a sharp downward plane as you stumble on his chest. He is about to scold you but his words die down in his throat as warm wetness greets his touch. Hubert is horrified when he sees blood pouring forth from your nose profusely without you even noticing it. Bright crimson blood make such a stark contrast to your face that is as pale as fresh fallen snow.
“(Y/N)!!!” You can barely hear him calling your name frantically as your vision goes black.
