#white clouds.

     “is that a new necklace, dorothea?” 

    “what would you have done, had you not become a professor here, my teacher? presumably your father would have been roped into rhea’s service nonetheless, leaving you to your devices. what would you have done with the freedom?” 

there’s a sharp edge to edelgard’s tone (some of her inescapable privilege shining through --- she is not used to having her time wasted) but it softens the moment she looks upon dorothea’s visage. her green eyes, usually as bright as the beautiful gemstones edelgard has seen her wear are dull, listless as they rest upon the browned pages before her. it is a task in itself to get dorothea to focus on the sanctimonious text often found in accounts of the past written by imperious men, but today it feels there is more than her playful disinterest standing in the way. her lips are pale, perhaps the most notable difference aside from the grey staining her eyes, and edelgard finds herself missing the rosy red. 

    “dorothea?” now, her voice is quieter, shifting closer to dorothea on the bench and scanning the classroom in an effort to ensure they can speak in relative privacy. “are you alright? you seem unwell.” 

all force of will is siphoned into stopping her hand from trembling around the grip of her sword, and edelgard raises her wrist to wipe sweat from her brow. her arm aches and muscles may well be on fire, but if she gave felix a run for his coin at all, he hides it well. perhaps the fact that the sparring match ended with no clear victor and instead their instructor calling time on the affair should speak for itself, but edelgard herself knows that perhaps one or two more heavy strikes like the previous he had managed to land would have spelled the end for her. depending on his attitude, she might make a point of spelling that out. shifting her training sword into her left hand, she reaches the right out to shake felix’. 

    “i’m sure you’ve heard that before. what fuels your fervency? i shall have to take notes.”

    “professor?” edelgard’s eyes dart from side to side as if expecting to see any number of ghosts and demons crowding over his shoulders. how eerie. “...are you alive?” 

she did knock first, but edelgard has long since fallen into the rather impolite habit of simply entering after she has done so, at least where hubert is concerned. never yet has he not been ready to receive her, and never yet has she caught him in the midst of any egregious acts. at least, not until now, when she finds him kneeling to scrape what looks like leftover carp from the afternoon’s selection at the dining hall into a small bowl, and a little black ball of fluff that she had been so avidly searching for waiting patiently for him to hand the dish over. her words come to a sudden halt, collared by an amused smile and a twinkle in her eye that might say edelgard will remember this. 

    it would certainly be a lie to say that edelgard is unaware of the general air of lethality that hubert likes to exude. rather like a shadow himself, always one step behind her and never too busy to offer death threats on her behalf. even so, edelgard has come to find his ever-watchful gaze as comforting as anyone else might find the blanket they slept with when they grew up, always resting on her shoulders and making her feel safe. as it is, she feels alone here in the library, well after hours and only a few sections away from the completion of this paper. present company excluded, of course. edelgard’s fingers come to rest on the edge of the candlestick, sliding the invitation to join her closer to the empty seat by her side. 

    “he could be.” edelgard’s laugh has an airy quality to it, and the candle flame flickers, casting looking shadows on the walls one could be forgiven for thinking were hubert himself. it would likely amuse him that he could cause such unrest without even being present. edelgard’s quill twiddles in her fingers. 

    “should you be considering any attempts upon my life, best to shelve them for the moment.” a rare smile, warm and yet flashing a particular kind of mischief crosses her lips (perhaps to combat the boredom even someone so studious as her could feel from the utter monotony of essay writing). “just in case.” 

edelgard doesn’t stop until the pair are nearly at the rear side of garreg mach, well beyond its walls and far from any spots that students and faculty alike had made masterpieces in the snow. before them lies a vast expanse of pristine, untouched snow, shining under the light of the moon. it is a clearing framed by a ring of trees so dense that with a little imagination one could pretend it’s a picture from a storybook, far from the overbearing walls of the monastery or the sharp eyes of its keeper. 

    “i thought we might build a snowman,” edelgard says. she speaks quietly lest her voice shatter the quiet serenity of the clearing, words muffled by the fluffy scarf that obscures the lower half of her face. between that and the hat pulled low down her forehead to cover her ears and nose rosied by the cold, she looks every bit the hopeful little child, seeking something so innocent as fun in a world starving of it. “just if you like. i know it’s cold, we’ll catch our deaths if we stay out too long.”