Chapter Text
After the unmitigated chaos of the weekend, the uniformity of the school week comforted Hubert. The Black Eagles had moved on to the latest intrigue: Dorothea’s upcoming flash mob. Her carefully choreographed, harmonized, and polished performance of “My Girl” rapidly approached. And by Thursday, everything had blurred into a thrilling, new mundane. Each night, Ferdinand fell asleep draped over Hubert. Once he could pry himself away, he returned to his bed. Each morning, he found his inbox filled with Ferdinand’s wishes of a good morning.
Even with the large swaths of the day they both spent marching through commitments, Hubert found the name ‘Ferdinand von Aegir’ appearing frequently in his notifications and drawing a smile.
Ferdinand: “What colors are you intending to wear to the ball? So I can plan accordingly.”
Hubert sighed. Of course Ferdinand would want to know. His curiosity had an appetite.
Hubert: “Black.”
Ferdinand: “Black and what?”
Hubert: “Black and black”
Ferdinand: “To a RAINBOW PARTY??”
Hubert: “Yes”
Hubert: “The rainbow has all of the other colors covered.”
Ferdinand replied with 9 screaming emojis. Hubert may have laughed aloud at that. And later between classes, Ferdinand had written:
Ferdinand: “I am sorry to report that my father approves of you.”
Hubert: “Oh well. It’s been nice while it lasted. /j”
Ferdinand: “:)”
Ferdinand: “What did your father say?”
Ah. Dammit.
Ehrmantraut von Vestra. Hubert had been enjoying himself too much to remember that moist dishrag of a man.
It wasn’t enough that Hubert’s father was a severe, affectless man. He was also omnipresent. Given their family’s role of existing in the shadow of the far more relevant Hresvelg family, his father insisted Hubert and his siblings report to him anything that may bubble up into a scandal. What qualified as worthy of reporting remained as vague as possible, to ensure Marquis Vestra could blame any unforeseen media frenzy on his children.
Dating, however, always qualified.
In the past, Hubert hadn’t needed to. His relationship with Bernadetta hadn’t raised much attention, either publicly or privately. Otherwise, he had assumed the responsibility of informing his father of Edelgard’s relationship status. It was the least he could do, to shield her from that man.
Ferdinand would be… an issue.
First, because Hubert’s father had no knowledge that Hubert preferred men.
Second, because Ferdinand’s father’s vocal criticism of Emperor Ionius resulted in ‘unfavorable political optics.’
And third, and Ferdinand’s most egregious offense, was that Ferdinand was interesting. He spoke his mind, he looked good on camera. He was the first openly gay heir of an influential family.
Frankly, Ehrmentraut would only be satisfied if Hubert married a cardboard cutout of a traditional wife.
Well; Hubert had half an hour before lunch, and he needed to address his father’s nonsense as soon as possible. To keep Ferdinand from fretting, Hubert wrote back:
Hubert: “One moment. I forgot to inform him.”
Rather than leave such matters in his father’s inbox, Hubert decided he would call and leave a voicemail. His father had additional encryption around such measures. And, he would never pick up during the working day.
On the fifth ring, right before the voicemail box would answer, he heard his father’s low voice say, “Hubert?”
Well. Apparently the great Ehrmantraut von Vestra deigned to answer.
Hubert collected himself. “Hello, Father.”
“What has happened?” his father demanded. “What is the emergency?”
Ah. Hubert’s heart sank. His father thought it was a fucking medical emergency. Why else would Hubert call? He was the needy sick kid, after all. Before his father could irrevocably derail them into discussing the punch list of long-term side effects of leukemia, Hubert interrupted, “I am giving the courtesy you requested of us. I have requested Ferdinand von Aegir to accompany me to the Mage’s Ball. He agreed.”
After a long pause, the best that the esteemed Minister of the Imperial Household managed was a weak “Oh.”
Strange. The hairs raised on the back of Hubert’s neck. Hubert’s father was a very difficult man to surprise. As the silence continued, Hubert wondered. Would he lecture him on the prominence of his choice? Point out Ferdinand’s popularity with the media? Wax philosophic on the ‘futility of gay marriage?’
“You have some budget for appropriate attire,” his father finally replied.
Hubert snorted. “Don't make me laugh. I have never gone before. You expect me to believe you would leave perfectly good money doing nothing?”
Annoyed, Ehrmantraut said, “We have such allowances for all three of you. Fortunately for you, we haven’t yet finished the fiscal year. Unused funds are repurposed at that time.”
That seemed about right.
“Fine. That is all.” Hubert continued. “Consider this your advanced notice.”
Rather than take the clear exit offered, his father began muttering. “Ferdinand is the oldest of Ludwig’s children, which will likely gain attention.” With a sigh, Ehrmantraut continued, “Ferdinand in particular has a tendency to demand attention. That is a liability, certainly..And since Ferdinand is determined to loudly proclaim his homosexuality at every turn, that will invite assumptions regarding your own preferences…”
Did the idiot really need it spelled out? “Said preferences are likely the reason he accepted my invitation to go on a date ,” Hubert finished for him impatiently.
Again, his father merely said, “Oh.”
“Mmm hmm.” Hubert braced himself for the inevitable. What would it be? Classic homophobia? General disdain in Hubert’s choice of partner? Some secret, third, wildly irrational thing?
And then the bastard said, “That does simplify the issue of heirs.”
Leave it to Hubert’s father to be supportive of his eldest son being gay because it neatly side steps the fact that radiation therapy left him sterile.
Back when his parents were discussing radiation therapy with the doctor, the leukemia had advanced far enough that Hubert spent his days exhausted and disoriented. Hubert didn’t remember many specifics; just that his father’s vehement concerns over radiation had felt bizarre. What difference did it make whether he could one day have his own children? It had made no sense to a ten-year-old faced with death.
As an adult who understood modern Adrestian inheritance law, he found it even more foolish.
“It is a relief,” Hubert coldly replied. “I will never have to crush Ferdinand’s illusions that I will somehow inseminate him with future generations.”
His father’s disapproving growl was worth it. He must be in his office, for instead of taking Hubert’s bait, he simply said, “Congratulations,” with an impressive lack of emotion. “Next time, you may simply send a message.”
When Hubert caught Ferdinand at lunch and shared the conversation, Ferdinand had thrown a hand over his heart and gasped. “You said what? To your own father?”
“He’ll be fine. He is so very brave, after all, for all of the trouble I have caused him,” Hubert quipped. “He needed to hear how irrational and absurd he was being.”
Ferdinand blinked. “He is more strange than I imagined.”
“Indeed.” Hubert smirked back at him. “He did say I had a budget for a suit and such.”
Ferdinand’s eyes illuminated. “Oh! Yes! I have been meaning to ask you.” And Ferdinand proceeded to ask everything that Hubert had yet to figure out: “What style of suit? Boutonnière? Are we going to dinner beforehand? How much will you be dancing - should I wear the dancing shoes? Or the fancier shoes that are somewhat more uncomfortable? Do you have concerns if I wear makeup? I have in the past, it prevents my face from becoming flushed. Same with hair. I do get it done. Or I have, in the past. I do not want you to feel pressured however to be as, well, extra as I am.”
Hubert swallowed. He could see that Ferdinand was making an effort to keep his proverbial cool. But whether by excitement, anxiety, or both, it appeared about ready to bubble over. “Perhaps dinner. I shall attempt to keep up with you on the dance floor.” He took in a breath. “Be as extra as usual. I would be disappointed otherwise.”
Ferdinand’s bright laugh helped Hubert relax. “I know there is so much to plan for the ball yet.” Ferdinand nuzzled him once more. “I am so thrilled to be going to the ball with you.”
These were the sorts of things Hubert had hoped to have planned in the next couple of days - after refining his disaster of a finale. But plans were fickle and now Ferdinand wanted to know absolutely everything about the night of the dance; while Hubert had not considered it a single moment.
Hubert should have seen this coming.
The only thing to do now was address the issue.
When Hubert sought out Dorothea in her dorm room, she first tortured him. She took his hands, gazed in mock adoration, and sang:
Why do birds suddenly appear…
Any time.. You are near?
Ah. “ Close to You, ” by the Carpenters. A classic love song that Hubert’s mother had played frequently on vinyl. On exceedingly rare occasions, she had sung along. Though, Hubert’s mother had always been conscientious of her singing voice, insisting no one wanted to hear that.
Hubert snorted. “If you are seeing birds, perhaps you have lost your mind?”
Rather than take the hint, Dorothea held her hands to her heart, as though smitten with him.
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you.
Hubert sighed as dramatically as he could.
A giggle broke her composure. “I’m warming up, silly. It’s only a couple of hours until the big moment, after all.” Hubert smiled warmly. By the end of dinner, Dorothea would have taken over the entire dining hall with her fearless soprano to request Petra’s hand for the ball.
With a wink, she added, “You’ve been hogging enough attention. It’s someone else’s turn.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Hubert insisted. “I will be picking up Edelgard shortly before 17:50. We’ll be prompt.”
“You are such a dear,” she said. She paused to fix his hair - whatever on earth she had decided was wrong with it. “Now, why are you here?”
“Ferdinand is voracious in his curiosity over the dance.” Hubert folded his hands awkwardly behind his back.
“I imagine Ferdinand is bursting at the seams with questions,” Dorothea agreed. “He’s going to want to know everything. ”
“Precisely. And I lack answers to his questions.” He glanced away. “If you have a moment, your counsel is the only one I would seek on this matter.”
“Praise will get you everywhere, darling!” Dorothea hummed with a flattered hair flip. “On two conditions. One, I get to help you pick your outfit.”
Hubert wrinkled his nose. “As long as I pick the color and have the final choice.”
Dorothea sighed. “It’s black, isn’t it?”
Rather than answer - or worse, explain his exchange with Ferdinand - Hubert prompted, “What is your second condition?”
“The moment Annette arrives, I will absolutely shoo you away without question.” Dorothea smiled affectionately. “She said she had an important, last minute question about the finale. Which, for our sweet perfectionist, is probably torturing herself over her part!” Clapping her hands, she said, “Quickly, now, how may I help?”
Thus began the rapid fire back and forth.
“Is it common practice to coordinate outfits with your date?” Hubert began.
“For normal people? Not necessarily. For Ferdinand?” Dorothea gasped. “You aren’t going to make sunshine boy wear black, are you?”
Hubert ignored her. “Who gets his boutonnière?”
“You, darling, you asked.”
Made sense. “Do you know which flowers are apparently evil incarnate? Or am I going to have to research floriography?”
“Roses are always safe.” Dorothea giggled - Hubert’s contempt must have shown on his face. “Take comfort in the fact you are no more clever than anyone else.”
“I am taking no comfort in this, and I would prefer to rectify this as soon as possible,” Hubert insisted.
Interesting. Petra came bounding down the hallway. With a melodramatic hand to her forehead, Dorothea said, “OH dear, I’m sorry, how terrible it is to leave your wonderful company for my exceptional girlfriend–”
“Hello Hubert!” Petra smiled. “What scheming are you doing in here?”
Oh, dammit. She looked to Dorothea with such obvious, playful suspicion in her face, that Hubert felt compelled to rescue her. “Dorothea is graciously giving me dance advice.”
“Oooh yes!” Petra clapped with glee. “I can be helping too!”
“You’re an angel.” Dorothea blew Petra a kiss with a wink.
“I’m not a stray in a thunderstorm–” Hubert began to protest.
“Don’t wear your stiff nice shoes,” Dorothea interrupted. “You will be dancing, and if Ferdinand gets his way, you will be dancing a lot.”
Hubert would have to remember how to dance. That was another anxiety for the future, Hubert decided.
Dorothea wagged a finger. “And don’t scowl like that.”
“Oh! Are you getting headaches?” Petra interjected. “You may be wanting earplugs.”
Hubert looked at her incredulously. “I’ve been in mosh pits at metal concerts.”
Undeterred, Petra asked, “And did you have a headache the next day?”
“Only sometimes.”
“Then perhaps you will be being fine!” She shrugged with suspicious innocence. “Just consider that you will be having a hot man dressed in his best wanting to spend every possible moment with you, so there is a risk–”
Hubert clapped a hand over his face, then scowled when pain radiated through his palm. “Fine, earplugs, understood.”
Dorothea giggled - but her eye glanced down the hall. Hubert’s eye followed, only to see Annette. Interesting. She did appear to have something on her mind. Like Ferdinand, she wore her thoughts on her sleeve, and they seemed to be some form of existential anxiety.
With barely a glance, Hubert and Dorothea made their plan. “Oh well,” Hubert threw up his hands. “Time’s up. It looks like Dorothea’s study partner has arrived.”
“I’m sorry, Hubie!” Dorothea shrugged helplessly, waving Annette over. “I helped where I could!”
“I can be taking it from here,” Petra said with a smile. “You will be studying for a while?”
“Not too long, my princess.” Dorothea swiftly kissed Petra, patting her backside. “I’ll text you as soon as I’m free.”
Petra grinned, returning the gesture with a hearty butt smack. “I will be looking forward to it!”
“Alright, alright,” Hubert muttered, steering them apart. He gave a brief nod to Annette as she passed. She certainly looked plenty uncomfortable, and exceedingly anxious.
Petra, however, had been watching him closely. “And how are you feeling?” she asked.
Hubert laughed shortly. “Conspicuous.”
With a laugh, she said, “We will have to be hoping Dorothea is making herself an even greater fool than you!”
He snickered at that. Likely not, given how carefully planned hers was. But the thought was charming. “I have succeeded, I guess, in my original intent. To join Ferdinand on the proverbial stage, with all of the good and bad that comes with.” They made it to the bottom of the stairs before Hubert noticed her goofy smile. “...Out with it,” he muttered.
“I am loving Sapbert.” The grin that broke her features was bold and broad. “You are having all of the cleverness of an evil mastermind, and all of the adorableness of a puppy!”
‘Sapbert.’ He would have to tell Ferdinand that one. Either that, or kill Petra to ensure he never heard it.
“Perhaps this is out of character,” Hubert mused. “But it feels more like something I am trying on. Like a suit-”
“Like a pink suit with fringe and glitter,” Petra teased.
Hubert cleared his throat. “Why not try on the role of ‘love-struck romantic’ at least once?”
The giggle that escaped his friend made him want to vanish off of the face of the planet.
With a smirk, he added, “And everyone will forget about me soon enough. When Dorothea’s finished with you, you’ll be the talk of the school.”
“We can be hoping!” she agreed. With such affection, Petra said, “I have great pride for you!”
Hubert opened his mouth, but words refused to come out. So instead, he said, “Thank you.”
“Fear not,” Petra finished. “I am certain you will be playing the part to perfection.”
Seteth attempted to focus on grading the papers before him. Plenty of administrative work awaited him afterward. However, he found his mind nurturing the possibilities revealed by his conversation with Ferdinand.
Hubert had asked Ferdinand to the ball, had he? An interesting development.
Ferdinand was not a troublesome student. He studied hard and attended class. Though he was prone to daydreaming, a touch loud at times, and often seemed to find himself on the wrong side of rules, it seemed to be the result of carelessness rather than malice.
Unlike Hubert.
Ultimately, Ferdinand’s open face, loud voice, and insistent declarations of a righteous path made him a poor choice of accomplice. A few mere minutes in Seteth’s company yesterday had Ferdinand intimidated enough to trip over his words. While Seteth regretted having that effect, he must admit, it made his job significantly easier. Perhaps he was a shield of sorts? Sociable enough to enjoy himself if Hubert snuck off, and conspicuous enough to be seen? Seteth could easily imagine Ferdinand losing track of Hubert entirely, allowing whatever scheme Hubert had to unfold.
Or perhaps Ferdinand was the target? It wouldn’t be the first time Ferdinand had fallen victim to an elaborate prank. Hmm. Disturbing, but not impossible. Reports of their disruptive arguments had ceased over the last year, so Seteth had assumed they were more companionable. But was that what Hubert wanted him to think?
He hoped it wasn’t so. He frowned into his pen.
Of course, no tactician worth his salt could dismiss the possibility that Hubert invited Ferdinand to the ball because he wanted to. That would be out of character, yes. But it deserved a place on the list.
“Well, you look like someone told you they ran out of black ink, so you would be required to purchase navy,” Manuela sidled up to him.
“Hubert is up to something,” Seteth replied, setting down his pen.
“Hubert?” Why would Manuela sound surprised by this assertion? “If ‘up to something’ means ‘determining the best way to seem brooding,’ then I suppose you’re right.”
Of course Manuela would think he was overthinking this. No need to involve her. “What is it you require?”
She sighed with melodrama. “I saw that you usurped dinner duty today, by some scheduling mishap.”
“I had insisted upon it,” Seteth said. It was an opportunity to see how Ferdinand and Hubert behaved on their own.
Manuela narrowed her eyes. “Well, I need you to know that a group of students shall be performing a beautiful ballad–”
Seteth groaned.
“–Which Dorothea had received prior permission from myself, as the individual who was supposed to be overseeing that time.” She tipped her chin back. Elegant in its subtlety, but still a clear threat. “Therefore, I request that unless someone is in mortal peril, please just sit back and enjoy the show.”
“Hmm,” Seteth grumped. Likely Dorothea had originally selected the time to ensure the far more permissive Manuela was on duty. The question of whether or not he would have agreed to Dorothea’s request was moot, however. It was Seteth who took administrative liberties after all. With a sigh, he said, “However, to your point, I suppose the show must go on and all of that.”
Manuela giggled. “That’s the spirit.”
When Hubert appeared at the library, Edelgard sized him up closely. The signs were there - though Edelgard doubted anyone but her would notice. For instance, the particular black tunic Hubert wore today, to most, would seem to be Hubert leaning into his goth aesthetic. Flowing billowy sleeves that dangled in a witchy way, the tunic reaching low over his black leggings. Certainly he was goth as ever, but the lack of cuffs around the sleeves signaled he didn’t care to attempt to force his hands through a cuff. And rather than his leather gloves, he wore fingerless black compression sleeves patterned with skulls.
Must be a bad nerve day.
“Don’t forget your opera glasses,” Hubert greeted her dryly. “Dorothea has promised quite the spectacle.”
She collected her purse. “As I enjoy the privilege of ogling them plenty in private, I can allow you to borrow them.”
Hubert gave her a withering look. “This may surprise you, but I have no interest in ogling your girlfriends.”
“Is Ferdinand not performing too?”
Hubert blushed, wrinkling his nose. “Touche.”
On the one hand, Edelgard genuinely couldn’t be happier for Hubert. In a dozen years of friendship, she couldn’t remember the last time she noticed him smiling to himself. But with Hubert distracted, Edelgard was stricken by how careless he could be. She trusted Hubert with her life. She did not, however, trust him with his own. So as they started on their way, she asked, “How is the nerve pain?”
With a shrug, he replied, “It's now improved enough to require more vigilance, lest I aggravate it with carelessness.”
“Mood.” Edelgard chuckled. “Healed enough to become a new problem.”
“Precisely.” Hubert rolled his eyes.
“And Ferdinand is behaving?” The tone of warning inching into Edelgard’s voice.
“I am well aware of my handsome blind spot.” Hubert shrugged. “Hand holding is safe, but only under particular circumstances. No squeezing. No interlocking fingers. Other than that, Ferdinand has graciously accepted I cannot high five or give a firm handshake without issue.”
“Take care of yourself.” Ignoring his attempt at deflection, she continued, “Don’t push yourself too far.”
His annoyed sigh, however, was unusual. “Really, El?”
He must be well and truly sick of her shit, or in more pain than she thought, to actually call her ‘El.’ “Yes!” Edelgard said, recovering from the surprise. “I rarely get to mom-friend you. Ferdinand can be full-speed ahead, which is wonderful, but also risky. If your hands are hurting so much–”
“Oh, Hubert,” he interrupted, voice almost shrill. “You don’t understaaand…”
Edelgard blinked in bewildered awe. “Is that supposed to be me?”
Hubert laughed wickedly, before continuing. “In the moment, it doesn’t hurt in the least! I never know what will hurt until the next day…”
Shit. Edelgard’s face burned as she smothered her face in her hands. “...I forgot about this…”
“I haven’t.” Hubert smirked. “Need I go on?”
When Edelgard and Monica hooked up on Edelgard’s first year, she had found herself at odds with Hubert. Their disagreements over what was an acceptable level of intimacy when there was a risk of pain had been uncharacteristically heated. She had been violently sick of his bullshit, insisting that she had it under control, and he needed to let it lie.
Of course the bastard would remember. “You’ve made your point,” Edelgard muttered. She sighed. “It’s strange. You finally treat me as an equal. And while I’m proud, I could happily strangle you as well.”
“I believe that is most peoples’ experience of me,” Hubert agreed with a self-satisfied smile. His expression, however, softened. “And, for what it's worth, I don’t think I appreciated at the time what you had meant. I was perhaps overbearing in retrospect.”
Edelgard’s jaw dropped. “Are you alright, Hubert? Do you have a fever? Have you been stricken by madness?”
Hubert scowled. “Just the cringe that only hindsight can provide.”
Edelgard laughed. “Isn’t trial and error delightful? And I promise, I will endeavor to be only half as overbearing as you were when I went through this.”
“Your mercy knows no bounds, my liege.” He looked down at her. “But fear not. I will do my best to keep him in line.”
Edelgard smiled. “I have no doubt of that.”
Their footsteps shifted from cobblestone to echoey marble as they entered the entrance hall. Dorothea waved from the other end when she saw them. Once closer, Hubert noticed mischief in her eye and a song on her lips. “ Darling, you send me … ”
What a magical feeling. Dorothea’s voice ricocheted beautifully through the tall ceilings, enveloping Edelgard in beautiful music.
Hubert sighed with such drama. “This again…!”
Edelgard smirked. “What do you mean, again?”
Dorothea’s eye glinted with mischief as she doubled down on whatever ruse it was. “ I know you send me… ”
Damn, the look of utter confusion on his face made Edelgard lose it laughing.
Hubert snorted. “I have sent you nowhere. You have definitely lost your mind.”
Dorothea’s laugh rang true. “And here I thought your iron heart had finally softened.”
“Careful, Thea,” Edelgard chided. “He’s taken. ”
Dorothea flipped her hair. “He is certainly taken with someone…”
“Do you intend to tease me for liking my boyfriend?” Hubert shot back. “My unquestionably charming, good-looking boyfriend? Oh, the horror…”
The twinkle in Dorothea’s eye seemed almost evil. “Your boyfriend?”
“You never tell me anything,” Edelgard muttered.
“Oh, dammit.” Hubert rolled his eyes. “I forgot about the pomp and circumstance surrounding ‘labels.’ I’m not sure if the word has been said aloud between us. Just a careless slip of the tongue.”
“You’re never careless,” Dorothea teased.
“The gabapentin got the better of me,” he muttered. “You’re forbidden from stirring the pot, you vile creature. Not when Ferdinand’s good mood and good favor seem to have returned in force.”
“I would never,” Dorothea smiled warmly. “Not when this is so much better.”
“Indeed!” Edelgard bumped Dorothea with her shoulder. “The main event is soon, isn’t it?”
Hubert frowned over her shoulder as they stepped outside to approach the Dining Hall. “Why are the Blue Lions attempting to obfuscate bright yellow posters with glitter paint behind the radiator?”
Sure enough, Annette and Ingrid were trying - and failing - to keep thin posters from sliding unceremoniously to the dirt. Felix very helpfully complained, arms crossed over his chest, while Sylvain seemed to be doing some kind of damage control.
Dorothea sighed sadly. “Not here.”
Without a word, Hubert guided them to what was apparently a suitably private hedgerow.
“What happened?” Edelgard demanded.
Dorothea sighed. “First, I feel compelled to explain that I am a reasonable person.”
“Of course you’re a reasonable person.” Warmth caught the edge of Edelgard’s lips. “You’re among the kindest, most reasonable, sexiest women I’ve ever met.”
Dorothea giggled, sneaking a peck on Edelgard’s cheeks. Hubert’s hair tossed as he kept lookout. Because obviously even a gentle press of the lips would result in uncontained public sex in the eyes of the church. Or, more accurately, Seteth, who loomed at the entrance of the dining hall today. “Today is the ‘grand finale,’” Dorothea began. “I had everyone prepared. All parts of the harmony covered, practiced, and on track to be the most splendid danceposal that has ever been.”
Edelgard frowned. “But..?”
Dorothea pursed her perfect, ruby-red lips. “First, Seteth unexpectedly switched to chaperone today.”
“It’s like he knows someone may do something interesting,” Hubert muttered, still scanning for trouble.
When Dorothea’s arms gently folded in front of her, Edelgard noticed her ‘polite persona’ take over. “And worse, Annette had come to find me to let me know she had just been asked to help Mercedes and Sylvain. They have giant posters they’re going to bring into the cafeteria any minute now, the three of them, to ask Dimitri, Dedue, and Ashe to join them at the ball, all of them, as one big happy Blue Lion family.”
Edelgard narrowed her eyes. “Are they going to have the decency to wait until after yours is done?”
Dorothea didn’t meet her eye. “Apparently Dimitri and Dedue are impossible to keep still. He’ll have to go out of town, so they really didn’t have many other days to do it…”
“Dorothea…” Edelgard pleaded.
“Because I am… kind, and magnanimous…” Chestnut hair weaved as she hung her head. “...And perhaps, self sabotaging…”
It took everything in Edelgard’s self-control not to march over to the Blue Lions and set their scheduling mishap to rights. She would take the entire house to task if need be. She could see how it weighed on Dorothea, even though her perfect polish never once cracked.
But Dorothea didn’t need that. Not truly. So instead, Edelgard said, “They’re fortunate that you can be flexible. Heaven knows you’ve organized this so beautifully, you could probably hold it anywhere in school in a moment’s notice.”
“Oh, Edie…” Dorothea giggled, her demeanor melting. “Unfortunately, Annette couldn’t convince them to move it without explaining why. So she asked me if she should tell them why, and I said absolutely not! ” Rolling her eyes, she said, “The last thing I want is for Sylvain to know. He gets so smug when he knows a secret.”
“Hmm.” Hubert stroked his chin in mock thought. “Perhaps their gaudy signs could unexpectedly vanish until you’ve completed your song?”
Dorothea boxed his shoulder with a wink. “I knew I loved you for a reason, Hubie. “But no need. They shall ask at the beginning of dinner, certain to catch Dimitri and Dedue before they’re shuffled off, and I shall be the grand finale towards the end of dinner.”
“Now that you’ve established you’re above reproach…” Edelgard smirked. “I can be evil.”
“Edie…!” she protested. But the spark in her eyes and her quick glance over her shoulder betrayed her.
“Coast is clear,” Hubert confirmed.
“Good.” Edelgard replied. “I can’t believe your exquisite, elegant choral has been upended by rudimentary signs on crappy poster board written in puffy paint.”
Dorothea giggled, but concern still haunted her features. “What if everyone thinks that I stole their idea? The time and the place will be exactly the same.” She sighed mournfully. “Instead of being bewitched by our poignant moment, everyone’s going to be thinking, ‘Again?’”
“Unlikely.” Hubert shrugged. “I can only predict three reactions from this whole mess. First, there are those who will know that you were gracious and flexible, who will be grateful.”
Dorothea pouted. “I should hope so.”
Hubert nodded, holding up a second finger. “Second, there are those who are much too clever to believe an acapella arrangement could be coordinated within 24 hours, and will still find the show a pleasant surprise.”
“Especially one so perfectly arranged,” Dorothea added.
“Precisely.” Hubert only briefly held up his third finger, before waving it dismissively. “And thirdly, you will have fools and idiots with no respect for your craft who were never worthy of your time to begin with.”
Dorothea grinned. “You are so fun to be evil with.”
Hubert smirked. “I also imagine I know something about thwarted plans.”
“Ah, yes. Poor Ferdie.” Dorothea hummed in sympathy. “How is he doing this afternoon?”
“Good.” Hubert awkwardly put his hands behind his back. A new tell to Edelgard. ‘Sheepish’ was a new look, and it amused her to no end when she glimpsed it. “Also, the man in question approaches.”
How lovely it must be to be a head and a half taller than much of the student body. Edelgard barely saw Ferdinand until she could hear his footsteps.
“Dorothea!” Ferdinand jogged over. “Is it true?”
“Annette told you?” Dorothea said with a sad smile.
“She did! And I was aghast!” And he was aghast - the shock on his face would have been comical had it been anyone else. “She insisted that you had approved. Which is a true credit to your character.” Placing a hand over his heart, he said, “However, I am wounded to imagine that they ever asked it from you!”
Dorothea smiled warmly. ‘You are so lovely to be evil with.”
Ferdinand blinked. “Evil? Is it truly evil to honor and respect commitments made to your friends?”
Edelgard loved the catharsis she could see on Dorothea’s features.
And when she glanced over at Hubert?
Edelgard had to force herself to stop staring.
Seriously. She knew Hubert would love nothing more than to be ignored. Doubly so on ‘bad nerve day.’
But when Ferdinand handed him a thermos covered in horse stickers, Hubert was fucking charmed, and it fascinated Edelgard to no end.
Hubert smiled. He laughed. Not much, sure, but perceptibly. All while patiently listening to Ferdinand describe the ‘anti-inflammatory’ tea that Ferdinand had brought. Frankly, between Hubert and she, they’d heard every speech on the anti-inflammatory qualities of random nonsense. But Hubert listened to Ferdinand’s meandering and unnecessary tale of how he had noticed it this morning on his shelf. And while Ferdinand regaled him with anecdotes of various injuries he’d incurred and how his mother would prepare the tea, Hubert watched with sly patience.
To say nothing of Ferdinand. Even if Edelgard knew how incapable of subtlety Ferdinand was, she underestimated watching him glow. Ferdinand seemed perfectly happy to shoulder the burden of conversation. He rolled with each of Hubert’s little dodges, deflections, or teases, content to allow Hubert to listen and lurk as he usually did.
Edelgard knew well the pleasant surprise of finding a new flavor of love. The thrilling realization that such a thing could become quotidian. But she had never really considered the pleasure of watching someone else bloom into it.
It was surreal how normal it felt.
Something brushed against Edelgard’s palm. A magic note; and Dorothea’s sweeping script practically carried her teasing tone and wink when she wrote: They’re ridiculously adorable, aren’t they?
Edelgard chuckled, sending back, Nauseatingly so.
They can be idiots over each other as long as they want, if I get to enjoy you smiling about it.
They met eyes with a warm smile.
Edelgard whispered, “Just one big happy…”
Dorothea giggled. “...And extremely gay…”
Edelgard smirked. “...Family.”
“That’s the Black Eagles for you,” Dorothea agreed.
Damn - Edelgard missed whatever Hubert said that made Ferdinand’s laugh boom. Knowing new love, though? He could have observed the weather for all Edelgard knew.
“...I do not know how much it does or does not help, nor whether it is to your taste or not,” Ferdinand concluded. “If you despise it, I will happily drink it and not press the matter!”
“I’ve been known to endure such things on occasion,” Hubert said, his smile warm.
It was so fucking cute, Edelgard didn’t know how to handle it.
Ferdinand emerged from their little world. He noticed her eyes on him. “Oh, Edelgard, perhaps I should make you this tea sometime! My apologies for not already thinking of it.”
Edelgard waved him off. “That isn’t necessary, Ferdinand, but thank you.”
As Ferdinand opened his mouth to insist, Hubert interrupted with a chuckle. “I don’t believe that would be too well accepted.”
“What Hubert means to say,” Edelgard explained with a smirk. “Is that I can’t stand those teas without sugar. And because Hubert is Hubert– ”
“–I prefer conscientious–”
Edelgard rolled her eyes. “–Any tea with enough sugar for me to accept, he would never let me have.”
“Sugar worsens inflammation over time,” Hubert explained. “The short term benefit is hardly worth it.”
“Funny,” Edelgard chimed in. “They say the same thing about caffeine, do they not?”
“Hubert-!” Ferdinand turned swiftly to face him.
Hubert muttered something about ‘inadequate testing’ and how, for some, it assisted.
“I imagine he’s already following every relevant medical journal in his free time,” Edelgard insisted. “I doubt he needs supervision.”
Cautious but compliant, Ferdinand agreed. “That is very like Hubert.”
By Hubert standards, he had melted into a puddle on the ground in Ferdinand’s presence.
Petra’s voice cut through the moment. “Hello, friends and lovers!” she bounced over to them with Linhardt and Caspar in tow. “There was mischief being afoot!” Petra grinned. “And I was almost ruining it!”
“Tell me everything, darling,” Dorothea said with remarkable coolness.
Petra giggled. “Ashe and I were running into each other, and we had been realizing we haven’t been to the food trucks in a while! So we started walking on our way into town for an impromptu food truck feast, when Mercedes called after us.”
Dorothea could make a living off of playing poker. The bit of a chill Edelgard had felt on realizing that Petra may not have even come to her own danceposal must have hit Dorothea like a train. Instead, her mouth became a perfect ‘O’ while she widened her eyes in mock intrigue. “Intriguing!” she agreed.
“Didn’t you say Mercie was super sketchy about it too?” Caspar prodded.
“Yes!” Petra agreed. “She was not saying why. But when we said we wouldn’t be being in the cafeteria, Mercedes said in her mom-friend voice, ‘I think you should be going to the dining hall, Ashe.’ Then, she was looking at me, and said, ‘Petra, walk with us?’”
Edelgard’s heart thumped loudly on Dorothea’s behalf. Still, keeping her voice cool came naturally as she mused, “I wonder what’s that about.”
“Creeper spiderman!” Caspar shoved his elbow into Hubert’s ribs. “You got any leads?”
Hubert scowled. Edelgard’s eyes flared. “Keep your limbs to yourself, Caspar.”
“Sorry!” Caspar quickly backed away. “But you know if there’s anyone who knows anything, it’s creeper spiderman!”
“You just called Hubert what? ” Ferdinand blinked.
“Don’t worry about it.” Caspar waved it off. “That’s from the case of ‘The Secret Admirer Who Shat the Bed.’”
Edelgard sighed, long suffering. Before she could once more remind Caspar to keep bed-shitting talk to a minimum, Ferdinand cut in. “If you are referring to Hubert, then that is an unfair reduction of what happened, and I will not accept it.” The way Ferdinand crossed his arms over his chest meant he absolutely had a speech planned. “Frankly, he achieved so many beautiful things. My own unpredictable reaction was hardly–”
“Okay! Okay.” Caspar waved his hands desperately. “I think that’s all I got. It’s out of my system.”
“Perhaps I should have asked you sooner,” Hubert smirked. “You’re extremely effective at defending my honor.”
Linhardt laughed. “Oh, fuck you.”
Ferdinand tossed his hair behind his shoulder, and flames - Hubert actually leaned ever so slightly closer. “Well,” Ferdinand declared. “I am quite happy that the events of the last few weeks culminated into my having a handsome gentleman in my life.”
He had those nosy devils groaning so loud they had people looking over at them.
“Yeah, fine, no fun in front of Ferdinand anymore, got it.” Caspar shoved a joking elbow into Ferdinand. “Now, what are our theories?”
Dammit. It had been too much to assume they may actually drop it. Instead, here they were. Again. They had made it this far without giving away the flash mob - were they really going to make an issue this close to the end?
“Allow me to stop you there,” Ferdinand interjected. “I do, in fact, know what is to happen today. However, I think it will be a moment better received as the surprise it is intended to be!”
That… was a really good way to handle that. “Well said,” Edelgard agreed. She would be mad she hadn’t thought of it first, except that she doubted she could say it with enough resolve and a straight enough face for people not to push the point. She chimed in with a tone of finality. “Now, let’s get everyone fed, shall we?”
Seteth had thought he was being strategic by his choice of location. Once all of the Black Eagles had taken their seats at their usual table, Seteth had taken a seat where he could observe them, but not be observed. At least, not by Hubert. Had he been in Hubert’s sightlines, then Hubert would have behaved completely differently. So behind Hubert’s back had been the ideal compromise.
However, that meant he only saw Ferdinand’s expressions. And Ferdinand proved as animated as ever. In a very good mood, it seemed. Which told Seteth absolutely nothing about Hubert’s plans.
“Hear ye, hear ye!” Sylvain shouted at top volume. Which, frankly, was an excessive volume. “May I have your attention?”
This must be the nonsense Manuela hinted at. Seteth rubbed his temples.
His companions - Mercedes, Annette, Ingrid, and Felix - at least had the decency to look embarrassed for the disruption.
Unperturbed, Sylvain continued. We have something of the utmost of importance. For…”
Apparently that was someone’s cue. After some clumsy clamoring - including Mercedes switching everyone’s positions in a hurry, Sylvain cleared his throat. “Dimitri!”
“Dedue!” Annette grinned.
“And Ashe!” Mercedes finished.
And one at a time, they raised signs with “Blue” “Lion” “Dance” “Party”. With an elbow in his ribs, Felix held up one that merely said “?”.
“Come to the ball with us!” they said in unison.
Of the three, only Ashe showed his shock. His jaw had dropped, a grin on his face. Dimitri and Dedue’s raised eyebrows suggested they were surprised - for both of them, it could be hard to be sure. Their friends dragged them to their feet, excitedly talking, hugging.
“Maintain a respectful distance,” Seteth called over tiredly.
From the corner of his eye, he saw them all jump apart as though bitten.
“There will be glitter shedding everywhere after this,” Hanneman observed across from him. He had a book on the table in front of him, scarcely looking up.
“At least nothing caught on fire,” Seteth agreed.
Manuela huffed as she perched beside Hanneman. “My, my. Don’t have too much fun. You may hurt yourselves.”
Seteth sighed in annoyance. “At least that is over with, and we can continue dinner uninterrupted.”
“Oh, please.” Manuela tossed her hair. “Dorothea’s will be splendid.”
“There’s another one?” Seteth clarified tensely.
Byleth sat beside him, her eyes pensive. “It’s an interesting ritual,” she observed. “I’ve only seen it in movies.” She had an atypical upbringing, so that was no surprise. It was hard to know what thoughts danced behind her eyes. Eventually, she said, “It’s pretty cool seeing all of the different ways all of our students choose to celebrate each other.”
“There’s a fair share of broken hearts and hurt feelings,” Manuala cooed sadly. “But otherwise, it is so lovely for them to be young fools in love.”
Seteth rubbed his temples. Certainly foolish.
Ferdinand despised the feeling of being watched. And he knew Seteth was watching him.
Ugh, the sensation itched on his skin. It reminded him of decades of reprimands as his parents taught him how to behave ‘correctly’ in company. He already struggled deeply with letting go of these hyper specific expectations, and finding ways to relax and be vulnerable around people.
But the authority in Seteth's gaze made him feel as though he waited for Ferdinand to mess up. To thoughtlessly squeeze a friend's shoulder, or hold Hubert’s hand. To correct a teacher, only to be scolded that ‘during class is not the appropriate time.’ Waiting for Ferdinand to talk too loud, move too much, say the wrong thing.
Did Seteth hold him in suspicion after the gloves incident? Did Seteth know Ferdinand had effectively cuddled his dearest friends in broad daylight, and seek some strange revenge? Or perhaps he knew that Hubert joined Ferdinand in his room every night?
The past few days, Seteth had definitely kept him under closer watch; and Ferdinand hated every moment.
At least the unnerving electricity engulfing him would not last. Having the opportunity to melt against Hubert, calm and steadfast, healed Ferdinand in a way he hadn’t realized he could be healed.
Hubert had been making good-natured jabs at the Blue Lions’ performance. Ferdinand had to confess that while the Blue Lions had thrown a wrench into Dorothea’s plans, they had kept it short and sweet. Dimitri had been absolutely shocked, and Ashe and Dedue had looked at one another with such a lovely smile.
When he noticed Ferdinand’s gaze, he smirked. Ferdinand returned it eagerly.
“Hey Hubert!” Claude had apparently made a beeline for their table. Lorenz followed, frustrated, behind. “I guess Nemesis’s dead body said no, so you had to ask Ferdinand?”
“P-Pardon?” Ferdinand glanced between Claude and Hubert. “Do people always come up to you and say strange things?”
“It’s a fairly regular occurrence, yes.” Hubert smirked from behind his hair. “To throw him off of the scent, I told him I was inviting the undead incarnation of Nemesis to the ball.”
Ferdinand laughed, heart swelling. “Of course you did,” he said with affection.
Claude chuckled. “You’re adorable.”
Petra sighed. “Your no magic party this year will be quiet, though!”
“I…” Claude cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Balthus invited me to the dance.” Seemingly compelled to self-deprecate, he made jazz hands and added, “I’m his pity date!”
“It will be your first time!” Ferdinand grinned. “That is exciting!”
“And terrifying,” Lorenz quipped with an elegant hand-wave.
Claude grinned through the joke. “Not a lot of people who won’t be going. We’ll miss seeing you there, El.”
“I guess you will just have to swing by Randolph’s.” Edelgard smiled with confidence.
“You sure?” Claude prodded.
“I am.” Edelgard touched her fingers to her chest. It was never easy to know Edelgard’s thoughts or feelings. But something in how her violent eyes glittered seemed like a rare glimpse of sincere joy. “I am perfectly happy to gussy up my friends like dolls and send them off, free from overly loud pop music and sweaty bodies.”
Claude nodded. “Well, when you put it like that…”
“Besides…” The moment of vulnerability had returned to that carefully curated smile. “There’s nothing I love more than everyone piling into Randolph’s largest booth. Everyone dressed in their best, drinking milkshakes… all of the while flushed and giggly as they tell me all of their stories.”
Ferdinand caught her eye. “That sounds absolutely beautiful.”
“And you,” Edelgard smirked, “will absolutely have to be there too.”
The feeling, ridiculous as it may seem, left Ferdinand’s eyes damp. “I will be there.”
It would be a full ball. Fuller than it's ever been. And finally, Ferdinand knew he would be there too. And not as someone’s second choice, nor as their politically advantageous option. He would be there with Hubert. Who had become such an integral part of Ferdinand’s day to day life, he scarcely could imagine going with anyone else. And who Ferdinand couldn’t stop staring at if he tried.
Claude glanced up, and seemed to freeze. Ferdinand followed his eye to find Leonie striding towards their table.
“Hey, Leonie! I was just–” Claude started.
“Claude!” Leonie smacked his back, none-to-gently.
Seteth’s weary “no touching” from across the room was met with a casual thumbs-up from Leonie.
“Glad to see you came by to apologize,” Leonie grinned. There was some kind of force in her smile that Ferdinand could not put his finger on. “That’s really big of you.”
“Claude has been badgering Hubert,” Lorenz interrupted, rolling his eyes.
“Wow,” Claude blinked. “Snitch much, Lorenz?”
“I could guess as much from across the room,” Leonie said in their firm adult voice. “Apologize. That’s what people do when they do something shitty.”
Claude turned to Ferdinand, rubbing his face with a pained expression. “Yeah, it really wasn’t cool of me to be just… all up in your business. I know I made everything worse. I’m really sorry.”
Ferdinand blinked. “No worries!”
“No need to be too gracious,” Lorenz muttered. “This is Claude, after all.”
“Perhaps,” Ferdinand sighed. He could remember the devastation all too well. But why would he? His heart and mind had since been flooded with absolute joy. Holding a grudge required taking away his focus on growth and improvement. How best to articulate that, though, without sounding like ‘a bad motivational poster?’ “While it was painful, I imagine it was less arduous than what Hubert went through.” He glanced sympathetically to Hubert, before realizing. “Oh! You are here to apologize to Hubert too, yes?”
“Is that really necessary?” Claude quipped. “I mean, he kind of put you through the ringer.”
“By endeavoring to be vulnerable and express his affections to me on his own terms?” Ferdinand interjected. He frankly couldn’t believe it. “I do not understand. We are all, whether by choice or not, somewhat public figures. Privacy is difficult to come by. Why is it so strange to everyone that Hubert values his privacy?”
“That’s exactly right,” Leonie said with a resolute nod.
“I appreciate your crusade, my white knight.” Hubert waved him off. “But you must leave Claude and I to be the wretched, emotionally constipated beings that we are.”
“But you are both dear to me!” Ferdinand cried. “Both of you deserve to be treated with humanity and respect. If you will not do so for your own behalf, could you do so for mine?”
Hubert and Claude blinked at one another, as though Ferdinand had asked them to ride a unicycle on a tightrope. “I am actually sorry,” Claude finally admitted. “I love getting a rise out of you. I don’t always know when I go too far.”
Hubert crossed his arms with a sigh. “I perhaps could have been more clear that I was not, perhaps, toying with you in the usual way.”
“You do love holding things over people,” Claude agreed. “But that one’s fully on me!”
They each looked to Ferdinand as awkwardly as children. “Thank you both,” he said. “Truly. It warms my heart to have some resolution on this.”
“Now, if you are all finished…” Dorothea teased. “We still have our quick choir touchbase!”
Claude’s eyes lit up. “Oh, right! Is it time to get everyone?”
“Let’s!” Dorothea grinned to Petra and Edelgard. “I’ll be gone for hardly a moment, my loves.”
Seteth watched students from across the houses discreetly leave the dining hall. The entire choir had been enlisted to back Dorothea up for this. “My word, are they doing all of this just to ask someone to a dance?” Seteth sighed. “I cannot wait for this season to be finished.”
“Oh don’t worry,” Manuela soothed him. “You can be sure absolutely no fun will happen after the dance is finished!”
Professor Manuela did enjoy taking her barbs at Seteth. If only Seteth could look to Hanneman for an ally. While Hanneman certainly seemed pragmatic, Seteth’s refusal to allow him to study his or Flayn’s crest had permanently soured discourse between them.
“It is spectacle upon spectacle.” A student had begun to reach out and snag a cupcake while the kitchen staff were distracted. Seteth narrowed his eyes until the offender withdrew.
“Young love,” Manuela sighed wistfully. “It is wasted on the young, if you ask me.”
“Infatuation,” Seteth corrected her.
“Now now, we were all young once, weren’t we?” Hanneman chuckled.
“Pardon me,” Manuela’s eyes flashed. “But I happen to be young right now.”
And there they were. A crowd of students had entered the space. At least they seemed to be a well-behaved group. Lorenz, Annette, Ferdinand - they had minimal marks against them. Dorothea, while sparky, played within the rules. Claude, Balthus, and Yuri perhaps were unpredictable. And Flayn-
Flayn? When did she get involved in this nonsense? With a grin and a wave to Seteth, she was clearly in her own world too much to notice his shock.
“Petra, darling,” Dorothea projected loud enough to command the attention of the entire Dining Hall. Petra turned, audibly gasping in surprise. “My stunning Princess, as beautiful as you are powerful…”
“Here HERE!” Edelgard cried.
“Some things are best saved for song.” She turned back to the crowd around her. “And a one and a two and a three…”
Lovely acapella chords wove through the hall. Upbeat and carefully harmonized.
I've got sunshine, on a cloudy day
When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May
Seteth believed he recognized the song as “ My Girl, ” by the Temptations. Seteth tried not to wonder how long it had been since he first heard the song.
I guess you’d say
“I will, I will!” Petra jumped to her feet. Such drama - she rushed across the entire Dining Hall to Dorothea.
Dorothea grinned, not missing a note.
What can make me feel this way?”
“You may sing to me forever, but you should be knowing my answer is yes!” Petra beamed.
“No touching,” Seteth called tiredly.
They stepped apart. Petra gazed with such love. It was touching. Though were these moments not meant for a more… intimate setting? Rather than the entire dining hall of students, watching blankly?
Seteth’s eye dragged over Hubert. In a rare moment, Hubert was too distracted to notice Seteth’s eye. Was he smirking? The edge of his lips lifted, eyes intent on the chorus. What on earth was going through that young man’s mind?
~*~
Hubert greatly enjoyed Dorothea’s confident soprano filling the room. The pleasing blend of voices from the choir, the soft smiles Dorothea saved for Petra. Hubert only caught a glimpse of her smile, shocked and joyous and goofy all in a moment.
It plucked some heartstring Hubert had been previously able to ignore.
And Ferdinand? Well, his joy, enthusiasm, and passion for song had him entirely lost in the moment. He could not tear his eye from Ferdinand, and he did not care to.
A blessed moment, when everyone had their attention directed to the stage. Too curious to spare glances for other intrigues. A sacred time, when Hubert could simply watch Ferdinand without concern.
And fuck, he was handsome.
Everything about him. His soft lime sweater vest with matching chucks. Defined lines of his face, just softened enough to be kind while remaining striking. How broadly he smiled, even now, while singing. Radiating joy and enthusiasm with each line.
The ridiculous creature even swayed and snapped along, to keep rhythm.
What a peaceful warmth it beckoned. It bloomed in Hubert’s chest, softening every muscle, bone, and tissue. And that beautiful line from Ferdinand’s shoulder to waist to hip. Sweeping, smooth.
Nothing like the jolts and chills of embarrassment or shame. A pleasant comfort.
And Hubert may be mad to think so, but he imagined he could make out the clear, bright notes Ferdinand sang.
My girl…
…My girl…
…My girl!
Talkin’ bout my girl.
Hubert would have to remember how in the flames to dance. Was it Hubert’s left hand in the small of his back, right hand in his? Or, come to think of it, would Hubert need to learn to follow? He never had reason to practice that, as he only ever practiced with Edelgard. As a tall male, it never felt like a question.
Height difference be damned, Ferdinand seemed born to lead.
Perhaps Hubert was a small dog that caught a school bus. Dragged mercilessly behind, hopeless to change whatever outcome lay before him.
The turmoil, shame, unpleasant surprises… Hubert couldn’t say they were enjoyable.
But enjoying easy touches, savoring each line and slope that made Ferdinand so damn lovely. This warmth, the joy… Hubert couldn’t imagine ever feeling satisfied, had he been too much a coward to try, and to try doing it right.
I don't need no money (ooh), fortune, or fame
I've got all the riches, baby (ooh) one girl can claim
Petra burst into tears, still beaming. She scarcely let the song finish before she took Dorothea in her arms for an embrace.
The rest of the choir applauded, hooting and hollering as they dispersed to put the spotlight on the happy couple.
And Ferdinand caught Hubert’s eye, and grinned. Did Ferdinand have tears in his eyes? He swiftly returned to Hubert’s side, wordlessly standing beside him as the Dining Hall continued cheering. It took everything in Hubert’s self control to resist the temptation of leaning against him and press his face into Ferdinand’s argyle sweater vest. Perhaps wrap an arm around Ferdinand’s waist, and see if Ferdinand would play with his hair.
Fortunately he didn’t. It wasn’t long before Seteth pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do I need to remind you of the rules?” he hissed again.
Ferdinand truly could hide nothing on his face. Hubert instantly recognized the flash of fury passing through them.
Under his breath, Ferdinand muttered, “I believe he and I share a crest. However, while I bear the minor crest of Cichol, he seems to mistakenly believe he has the Major Crest of Asshole.”
Hubert choked on his laugh.
“Ferdinand,” Edelgard smiled slyly. “You never swear.”
“Out loud, perhaps,” Ferdinand snorted.
“Good for you,” Hubert smirked. “Give him Hell.”
Ferdinand’s lip curved with haughty confidence, before he charged on his way. “Seteth, have a heart! Was that not simply exquisite?”
“Well said, Ferdinand,” Manuela agreed.
He planted his hands on his hips in righteous fury. “Why, surely the Goddess herself would be smiling at such a beautiful display of love."
Seteth clearly had not expected to be challenged. Worst, the two had continued their embrace unthwarted for at least five seconds more before releasing one another. “Rules are rules,” Seteth said, delightfully flustered. “What is so difficult about keeping a respectful physical distance?”
“The scriptures of Seiros declare that the goddess cares for and protects all that is beautiful in this world,” Ferdinand lectured hotly. “The goddess will never deny the splendors of love, affection, joy, peace, faith, kindness, temperance, modesty, or patience.”
Seteth’s eye may have twitched.
“I simply cannot accept that a senior member of the church would implement rules in direct contradiction to the Goddesses teachings. Why, when I’m prime minister–”
“Ferdinand,” Seteth interrupted. “Watch your tone”
Ferdinand sighed with a touch of melodrama. "I suppose I must warn my father that I may very well get in trouble for heeding the Scriptures of Seiros.”
“I accept that these are special circumstances, however the rules are in place for a reason,” Seteth grumbled. “I simply ask that you follow them.” And with that, Seteth shooed him away.
Ferdinand grinned back at Hubert. And Hubert couldn’t resist giving him a thumbs’ up. But Dorothea waved Ferdinand back over, perhaps to enjoy their heartfelt celebration for Dorothea and Petra. So Hubert returned to picking at his pheasant. As he chewed, however, he noticed eyes on him.
Hubert would not rush the bite for these idiots. After he swallowed, he muttered, “What?”
Bernadetta beamed. “Nothing at all!”
“You have it bad.”
Hubert glanced at Linhardt. Linhardt watched most things with lazy indifference, this seemed to be no exception. Still, the knowing smirk on his face. Hubert could have happily wiped it off. “What do I have so bad?” Hubert asked with disinterest.
“What,” Caspar glanced between them. “Oh, you mean how Hubert’s whipped–”
Linhardt must have jabbed him. Caspar gasped with a start. Linhardt smiled sleepily. “I can’t possibly fathom what I meant,” Linhardt murmured with a smirk.
Hubert smiled. “You are all insufferable. Can I not enjoy my handsome partner?”
Linhardt very nearly choked on his pheasant. Caspar’s eyes very well could have glowed as hearts. “Awwww,” Caspar crooned.
Hubert couldn’t quite keep the smile from his lips. “Ever at your service.”