Work Text:
Hubert’s not sure what lands the killing blow first: the lance stabbing through his armor, or the burn of poison that splashes into the wound a heartbeat later. How stupidly foolish of him, to misjudge the health of his opponent and the distance between them.
He barely has enough energy to retreat, crawling through the chaotic battle, as his vision spots and blurs with each heaving breath. Someone distantly screams his name; he cannot fathom who. Lady Edelgard is too far away.
He cannot die—not yet. Not until Lady Edelgard’s dream is realized.
Linhardt barely finds him in time.
&
Hubert is alive. And yet not.
His wound is healed, but the poison in his veins refuses to be purged: an unknown toxin not found in Fódlan. Unfortunately, Lord Acheron—the last person Hubert remembered fighting—is long gone. The antitoxins Professor Byleth give him helps, as does Linhardt and Dorothea’s healing spells, but they are temporary reprieves.
Both the professor and Lady Edelgard agree he should not return to the battlefield.
A lesser man would have argued, but not Hubert… at least, once he’s extracted a promise from the professor that they will keep Lady Edelgard safe in battle.
&
The poison’s side effects are slow but varied, determined to leave him bedridden. But Hubert von Vestra is nothing but defiant in this insidious onslaught, even when he pushes his body to its limits.
Sometimes his heart races so quickly he wonders if it will explode from his chest.
Other times, the scar burns ice-hot, leaving him gasping inwardly and trembling if he stands still.
His hands shake violently when holding anything.
He’s careful to not show it, not wanting to worry Lady Edelgard further. But she and the professor and the rest of the Black Eagle Strike Force knows.
&
Lady Edelgard’s victory draws closer, and Hubert’s days are dreadfully numbered. He’s bedridden at last, cursed with blackouts and his limbs’ inability to cooperate. He’s not lacking for company, though.
Ferdinand sits with him often, bringing him his coffee that he can no longer taste in a cup his numbed hands struggle to hold. Hubert hates to admit it, but he enjoys his rival’s company now.
Lady Edelgard tries to stay composed. She won’t divulge her battle plans; instead she tries to reminisce their past together. But her eyes are red and unfocused.
It’s too soon for him to die.
&
Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg’s unification of Fódlan and her toppling of the Church of Seiros is complete, and Hubert is not there to see it. He had staved off death for as long as he could, but he cannot anymore. His senses are gone and its harder to breathe with every second.
Did his victims feel like this, too, when he had been the poisoner? What an ironic twist of fate.
He has no regrets. May Emperor Edelgard live long and rule a prosperous reign.
With his final breath, the centuries long partnership of House Vestra to House Hresvelg ends.