Chapter Text
Hubert's best works of art were the ones that were carefully crafted and meticulous. He wielded dangerous weapons and manipulation alike in order to carry out the will of his Emperor. Sometimes the only tool he needed was the right words, but more often than not, he had to paint with red. Stalking through the dead of night, bringing down their enemies with quiet precision; that was the art form where he excelled. Hubert used practiced brush strokes to paint Edelgard's path with the blood of their enemies, all in order to help build the masterpiece that was her vision.
But now that the war was on, he was more often than not working as a general on the battlefield. Hubert could fight and lead his troops no question, and strategy came easy, but battle itself brought its own brand of chaos. There were so many factors, and so many people to both depend on and watch out for. When he was a less trusting man, he would wonder which was more dangerous. Thankfully, Lady Edelgard chose her allies well, and the Strike Force, even the Professor, were now his allies too. Fighting with the same close allies for over five years changes things. The strangest of those changes was…
"Ferdinand!" Hubert called out toward the stables as he made a brisk pace in their direction. It was not a question. He knew this was where Ferdinand was, preparing his horse for the battle ahead. Those outside the stables gave the dark haired general a wide berth, a reaction he was used to.
The Monastery was currently in a state of disarray as members of the Imperial Army moved through it with a sense of urgency. Above them, the clouds moved in a similar manner, dimming the midday sunlight, and looming with the threat of rain, or maybe sleet, though none had yet arrived. The real threat descended upon them from the north, marching with purpose through and past the burning lands of Aillel, the Valley of Torment. They were likely to arrive by that very evening, and those who could fight were now working tirelessly to prepare defenses.
After the Imperial Army's recent capture of the Alliance, the Knights of Seiros decided to make their move to try and wrench Garreg Mach from them. Whether an act of defiance against the Empire, or an act of desperation in the wake of the fall of the Alliance, Hubert did not care. The result would need to be the same.
The stable was just as busy, horses being led out, dressed elegantly in contrast to the violence they would be facing. Ahead of him, a bright mane of long, orange hair, falling in waves, popped out from one of the stable doorways, facing the opposite direction of Hubert. It quickly turned around to reveal the expectant face of Ferdinand von Aegir. The cavalier stood up straight with a light smile, heading back in ahead of Hubert, knowing he would follow. Ferdinand was already fully armored to head out to battle, sturdy lance strapped to his back and an intricate sword on his hip.
This became a tradition before the departure for battle, whether heading out nearby or whether they would be traveling for miles and miles. Hubert would arrive at the stables to briefly meet with Ferdinand before the troops would head out. As Ferdinand took care to armor and saddle his horse, Earl Grey (Hubert refused to call it by name), they would have a brief discussion about what plans and strategies lay before them in the fight ahead. Sometimes, they would argue over conflicting ideas, though it would be nothing like the ferocity of their past arguments. In those moments, Hubert recalls when they had been more vicious toward each other, since many of those arguments had taken place during their assigned stable duties by the Professor. He always did his best not to linger on those memories, since he loathes to dwell on the past. Their mutual respect, at first reluctant, was much preferred by Hubert, since it meant work got done faster, and more efficiently. Working with Ferdinand was no longer a pain, but instead, Hubert could say that he even looked forward to it. Ferdinand was an invaluable asset to the Empire, proven a hundred times over.
Also, his smile was nicer to look at than his scowl, for some reason.
Before battle, Ferdinand's smile was usually more forced than normal, in the face of the grim task ahead of them. He always had so much more of a conscience than Hubert, happy to do his duty, never faltering, but willing to take risks to save civilians, and sparing some that Hubert would not. Today, something was different. As Ferdinand spoke of how unpredictable the fight was going to be, adjusting Earl's saddle to sit even on his back, he held a fierce tone of voice. When Ferdinand looked at Hubert, standing up straight again, Hubert could see it sparking in his brilliant orange eyes as well, like a fire being started inside of them.
"I am surprised that you were not sent into Abyss to help with defenses there," Ferdinand noted, as if challenging Hubert's silence. Hubert didn't move from the wall he was standing against, arms crossed against his chest, eyes closed.
"You feel that I would be of more use there?"
"Not more, no. You are more ‘of use’ than anyone I have ever met, Hubert, no matter where you are assigned. You always say those words as if you do not bend yourself backwards for the cause every waking second."
"Yet, I still strive to do more."
"I shall be forcing you to take a break after this battle is over - I mean won, of course - and I am sure Her Majesty will agree it is the right course of action. We will have to take tea."
"Coffee."
"I would think it would be unspoken at this point," Ferdinand glanced back at Hubert briefly with a coy look. Hubert, now watching him, narrowed his eyes.
"It is true that I know Abyss like the back of my hand, but all duties regarding the secret passages have been left to the Ashen Wolves and their ilk," Hubert effortlessly brought the subject back to where they started. "The Professor's orders are for me to join all of the Black Eagle Strike Force in the line of defense, so that is where I will be."
"They have never steered us wrong yet," Ferdinand commented, working on attaching Earl's headgear, petting and doting on him as he did. Hubert and Ferdinand then dove into conversation about how they would approach the coming battle.
Hubert watched Ferdinand as the conversation hit a lull. Ferdinand was checking over Earl's armor one more time to make sure that everything was attached correctly, moving with a confidence that Hubert couldn't seem to look away from. In fluid movements, Ferdinand reached up to adjust Earl's bridle, and told Earl something that was so quiet Hubert could only hear a murmur. Dapples of sunlight snuck in through holes in the roof and wall that needed to be fixed. These dots of light speckled against Ferdinand and Earl Grey in a way that felt surreal, even mystical, and only lasted a few seconds as clouds once again blocked the sunlight. Hubert spoke before he realized the words coming out of his mouth. "You're glowing today."
Hubert tensed, his lips becoming a thin line before he swallowed. Why did he say that? He found that he was prone to blurting out nonsense around Ferdinand more and more lately.
"Glowing?" Ferdinand sputtered, blushed a light red, then laughed brightly. "Like a firefly? A lantern? A bonfire? I did not know I had such an ability. Perhaps I have finally learned some magic," his voice was an octave higher than normal, which Hubert was not surprised about after he gave Ferdinand such a strange observation.
Hubert couldn't help a small smirk of amusement, though. Ferdinand was so easy to rile up. "Not necessarily. I only meant you seem… excited… no, not excited. Determined."
Ferdinand's smile dimmed a bit, giving Hubert a firm nod as he became more serious. "That is right," he moved over in front of Earl's face, pulling open a cloth pouch with his gloved hands to take out a handful of Albinean berries, speaking affectionately to the large steed. "Sorry, boy, the dining hall was out of carrots today. Will this do?"
It seemed to do, as Earl started to munch on the berries right out of Ferdinand's hand. Hubert watched as he waited to have Ferdinand's attention once again, grimacing on the inside. He didn't know how Ferdinand did it, having the beast eat directly from his palm. Hubert was always certain that they would bite his hand clean off. Ferdinand appeared to feel Hubert's pale green eyes on him, and turned his head to him with a weak, apologetic smile.
"As I was saying, determined. Yes. While Aegir Territory and the Empire are my home, I have come to feel that the Monastery… it is a second home. We have only been able to revive it as a base recently, and I know we only went to school here a year, but do you understand what I mean, Hubert?"
"I don't quite follow, but maybe I'm lacking sentiment."
"Everything was much simpler then, but, ah," Ferdinand went quiet with realization. "You and Edelgard were planning an entire war, so maybe it is harder for you to understand my feelings. The Monastery is special to many, including myself. As a noble and the Prime Minister of Adrestia, I want to protect it and the people who have come here under our banner at all costs."
“And you will,” Hubert stood up straight, moving off of the wall, signaling that their time was up. He did understand, to an extent, but he would never admit that outloud. The stables were mostly cleared out now, and there was no more time to linger.
"Y-yes, that is right. I will!" Ferdinand agreed.
“You emotional sap.” There was no malice in Hubert’s words, and Ferdinand knew this as well. Ferdinand gave Hubert a strange smile that Hubert couldn't read the intention of, then walked up to Hubert, holding out his hand. It was meant for a hand shake, though Ferdinand appeared hesitant to speak for just a second.
“To victory, for the Empire,” Ferdinand stated, as if it was some kind of toast, instead of a tentative goodbye. There was no telling if they would see each other again during the battle, or after. In a worst case scenario, maybe this would be the last goodbye between them. This thought left Hubert without words. They fulfilled this goodbye tradition before every battle, so Hubert should know his part, and yet the lines had left his head, and floated off into the cold, winter breeze. Hubert’s stomach flipped as he looked from Ferdinand’s face, to his hand, and then he frowned.
“Your glove is stained with berries,” Hubert informed him in a flat tone of voice. Ferdinand pulled his hand back, looking at the purple stain incredulously, and he couldn’t seem to hold back laughter. Even Hubert chuckled, low and quiet. The moment of mirth faded out quickly into a palpable tension in the air; a mix of awkwardness and gloom.
It was time for them both to go to work.