Chapter Text
The survivors of the battle stared at the smoking ruins before them.
Fort Merceus was destroyed quickly and thoroughly: one minute they were making a hasty retreat, the next it was gone.
They were all horrified. If they had not gotten out of there they would all have been killed. Anyone alive that was still in the Fort sure was.
Linhardt felt separate from his own body. All that death, all that capacity for death - what were they up against?
And Caspar - casting that spell was the best option he could think of at the time. The others were already catching up and there was no guarantee they would have hesitated to fight him as he had, and Caspar would probably have fought back. The idea that he had been hesitating at all was a huge outlier in Caspar's behavior, and not one that Linhardt felt could be replicated. The easiest solution was to simply make the problem go away, as literally as possible. He had warped him outside Fort Merceus and therefore outside the battle.
Now he was glad for his solution, because it meant Caspar had hopefully not been in the Fort when it was destroyed.
There was a 'what if' that played in his mind, however. What if Caspar had gone back in? Just because he didn't want to fight Linhardt did not mean he wouldn't have immediately come running back into the Fort, ready and willing to use his axe on someone else. He would have had time. He could be alive or dead and Linhardt did not like this uncertainty.
His heart squeezed. He was worried for his friend. But there was something else too. Feelings Linhardt had long since tried to put aside were stirring once more. He had thought it was pointless. Caspar hadn't ever outright rejected him, it was true, but every time Linhardt had tried to broach the subject it was as if Caspar had so strongly never even considered the possibility that his friend might have romantic feelings for him that his attempts to communicate just that would not even connect. If that were the case, then pining after Caspar was a waste of his own time. There were plenty of other attractive people about. It was more practical to move on.
How frustrating, that emotions could defy his own reasoning.
The discussion on those javelins of light that had destroyed the Fort went nowhere and soon the others were starting to retreat. Linhardt was of the personal opinion that if there was any more, they would have hit by now. But what if Caspar hadn't retreated?
Linhardt was getting increasingly antsy, until he finally rode up to the Professor and said, "There's something I need to take care of. I will catch up."
The Professor simply nodded and Linhardt turned his horse around to gallop back, looking for his friend. He had learned to ride so that he could nap on horseback while they were on the march, but now he was as alert as he ever would be. He checked where he had sent Caspar first - so very close to the destruction but outside of it. If he had stayed put, he would be fine. He wasn't there. Had he gone back inside? Had he met up with the retreating Imperial soldiers and the Death Knight, already on his way back to the Empire? Where did he go?
The sound of his own name, muffled and distant, echoed across the destruction. He recognized that voice, calling out for him desperately. He strained to hear it.
"Linhardt! Linhardt where are you?!"
Goddess be thanked.
Just this one time he'd let himself shout. "Caspar!"
There was a pause.
Then, joyously, "Linhardt?!"
They yelled back and forth a bit, and Linhardt tried to follow the sound of Caspar's voice, dismounting so he could scramble across rubble.
They saw each other at the same moment. Relief flooded Linhardt, and he fell to his knees, exhaustion kicking in.
Caspar was the opposite, surging forward to meet him and when he finally got there he threw his arms around Linhardt so tightly his armor almost hurt through the mage's robes.
"I thought you were still in there! I thought you died!" Caspar's voice, normally so cheerful and upbeat no matter what happened, had that particular quality of strangled emotion that made it sound like he had just been crying.
Linhardt wrapped his arms around him and let Caspar hold him close, armor or not, and realized that he had been so caught up in wondering if Caspar was alright that it didn't occur to him that Caspar would have had even more reason to worry about the same thing.
"I survived, Caspar, I am fine. I'm sorry."
Caspar let go, sitting back, half-kneeling on the rubble, and when Linhardt saw his face, his eyes were red. He had been crying. He always was emotional. People thought Caspar was self-centered and cared only for fighting, but Linhardt knew he felt deeply for other people, he simply let them live their lives and expected the same.
Death never felt real to Linhardt. He hated to see it, hated to cause it, hated the fact it happened so much, but once it was done he found it difficult to mourn. To realize that Caspar would have mourned him, had perhaps already started mourning him was a strange feeling, and one he did not like. He hated seeing Caspar upset like this.
"I was running - and then -" Caspar pantomimed an explosion complete with sound effect. "So I went back - I had to know - but then there weren't even any bodies, I thought you had died for sure but I couldn't even find - "
Linhardt went to put a hand on Caspar's cheek but changed it to putting a hand on his shoulder instead. "I'm here, Caspar. Breathe, can you do that?"
Caspar took a deep breath, held it, and then let it out in a burst of air. "Aah! I'm so glad you're alright!"
That made Linhardt smile, but it faded when he realized there was something he needed to know. "I don't suppose you know what happened to the Fort?"
"Wasn't that you guys?"
"Why would we destroy a fort right when we were winning it?"
"Good point." Caspar looked troubled.
There was another question Linhardt needed to address, though he had a feeling now that he knew how it may go. "Caspar, what are you going to do now?"
Caspar blinked owlishly for a moment. "Me? I don't know, I didn't think that far ahead."
Of course he didn't. Linhardt sighed. "I am not going back to the Empire, Caspar. I cannot condone their actions. If they are capable of something like this…"
"Let me come with you." Caspar sounded more certain now, even insistent.
Linhardt wanted nothing more, but Caspar had a habit of not thinking things through before he acted, as he had just admitted himself. "Are you sure? You're only here with the clothes on your back, and I can't guarantee that the others will accept you. I see no reason why they would not, but it is a possibility."
Caspar clenched his fists in front of him. "I don't care about my things. And I'll convince them they need to keep me! You should see me fight now, I'll be a great addition!"
A small, satisfied smile found its way to Linhardt's face. Caspar always gave everything his all, throwing himself down his path. Some people questioned why the sleepy scholarly heir was friends with the energetic, somewhat violent man, but they missed a couple of important things. First, that the two of them were both dedicated to living their lives how they pleased, with little care given to judgment. Second, that Caspar being everything Linhardt was not was a good thing. They balanced each other out, and they relied on each other, and they cared about each other, and goddess, Linhardt had missed him so much more than he had realized.
He stood up and held out his hand. "Come with me."
Caspar grasped his hand, his own in a gauntlet and got up. Linhardt led him gently out of the ruins of Fort Merceus and to where his horse was waiting for him.
"Should we -" Caspar began, cut off by Linhardt mounting the horse.
Linhardt shifted forwards and gestured behind him. "She'll hold your weight too."
"Oh, we're going to, you're, we're, uh, okay."
Caspar got on the horse, a bit awkwardly. What was wrong with him now? Did he still not know how to ride a horse? Linhardt grabbed his hands, put them around his waist, said, "Hold on," and took the reins.
Caspar clung to him, and Linhardt felt him lean his head against his back. He had to agree; he too would like a nap. But it was unusual for Caspar to want one.
They caught up to the rest of the army, and as they approached, Linhardt tried to calculate exactly what he would say and how he would explain himself. How would he get them to accept that Caspar was on their side now? This kind of thing was too tiring. He decided the best way to handle it was to trust that everyone had enough of bloodshed for one day.
He brought his horse up to the Professor and Claude, looked at them, and said, "I brought Caspar."
Caspar leaned around Linhardt and gave a wave. "Hey, Professor! Can I join up?"
The Professor met Claude's surprised look, then nodded at Caspar.
Claude shrugged. "Okay then. Sure, why not."
By the time they got to the Monastery, Caspar was feeling pretty good about this. He felt a bit scared he might have to fight his father and a bit bad about his friends now being enemies, but he didn't feel too bad about not being an ally of the Death Knight and now he had all his other friends back.
He had wondered if maybe they would hate him for having been with their enemies for so long, but he quickly realized that most of them were just relieved they didn't have to fight him. Caspar personally agreed; he wouldn't want to fight himself either, that was for sure!
Hilda and Raphael welcomed him back easily, they were easygoing. Petra was a given, as she had been in his boat. Dorothea outright gave him a hug, which surprised him. So did Ashe, who was there, which surprised him more. Catherine and Shamir seemed more amused than anything. And the rest, well, they went with it.
There were some things that went less smoothly. Claude had asked him a bunch of questions about Edelgard's plans but although Caspar tried to answer the best he could, Edelgard had never really told him anything, and he rarely asked. Some of the knights and soldiers Caspar didn't know eyed him with suspicion. He didn't really have any money, though when he mentioned this, Leonie spent a while going over the art of being frugal while a listening Ashe made the occasional addition.
A few days in, Caspar sat on the steps near the back of the dining hall and watched the sunlight glisten on the pond as he digested way too much food. It was odd being back at Garreg Mach, but strangely it also felt so deeply familiar it was as if he'd never left.
Linhardt sat down next to him. Neither of them spoke for a while.
"Hey, Linhardt, thanks for saving my life."
"You're welcome," said Linhardt, one of those cute little smiles of his on his face.
"Did you miss me?" the words, like so many Caspar said, were out of his mouth before he thought about them.
"Hmm," said Linhardt, leaning back so that his elbows on a higher stair propped him up. "Did I miss you…"
"Come on, it's not the kind of thing that you have to think about!"
"Would you believe me if I said I missed you more than anything else?"
Caspar gave a bubbling laugh, covering up his nervousness and how pink his face got. "I bet I missed you more!"
Linhardt let his head fall, putting his arms beneath his head as he outright laid on the steps. "Do you even know what you sound like?"
"Huh? Sound like what?" He missed something again, didn't he? Was it the laugh? Ugh, and he can't resist asking, "Are you comfortable like that…?"
He should have resisted since Linhardt took it as an opportunity to dodge the question. "It's not the best place I've taken a nap, no, but it's not so bad."
"Wait, you're going to nap here? In the middle of our conversation?" Also the middle of stairs people regularly used, but that was less important.
"I haven't had a decent nap in a while," said Linhardt, yawning. "I think I should be able to rest easier, now that you're here."
Caspar laughed. Linhardt? Not being able to nap? That was just as unheard of as Caspar not wanting to fight. He figured Linhardt was exaggerating, but it was nice of him to say - well, more imply that he felt more comfortable with Caspar there.
True to his word, Linhardt closed his eyes. Caspar watched him a moment. Maybe he wasn't lying. Caspar didn't like the war, exactly, but he thrived in it. But Linhardt had always hated fighting and all the violence and hurt and blood that came from it. He had been downright dour about the whole thing. If anything could disrupt his buddy's eternal ability to sleep, a war was it.
He'd protect Linhardt. He'd fight like a monster so that there would be no reason for his friend to have to fight. All enemies taken care of before Linhardt could even get there. He could even work on his flying again so he could get on a wyvern to be faster than the horse. It was probably not the solution Linhardt would have chosen, based on principle, but Caspar had no idea how to end the war. Barring that, he couldn't prevent heartache. But maybe he could make sure that Linhardt never had to kill anyone ever again.
They'd both changed so much, and they had ended up on opposing sides, but getting back into the rhythm of their relationship was easy, like he'd hardly gone at all. His feelings sure hadn't. Those were still very much inconveniently there.
Caspar watched Linhardt nap for a lot longer than people really should watch a friend nap.
"So," said Dorothea.
"So," said Hilda.
The exhausting had happened: Linhardt had been cornered at the library by the Monastery's two most inconveniently nosy young women. He was trying to read.
"So… what, exactly? I'd ask if there was something that you two wanted, but I don't really want to know."
Hilda crossed her arms on a large pile of books on the table and rested her chin on her arms. "You've been awfully mysterious about what happened with Caspar. Dorothea and I were just talking about it."
Linhardt valiantly attempted to pretend he was still reading his book. "I believe you mean gossiping about it."
Dorothea leaned in. "Come on, Lin, you came riding on back with Caspar as if you'd just gone fishing and reeled in a best friend."
With a sigh, Linhardt put the book down. "We ran into each other during the battle, mutually agreed not to fight, and he came with me."
"Okay, first, that's a really boring way to put it. Second, you totally went and got him after the battle."
Linhardt felt that he liked Hilda better when she was avoiding putting effort into things. He respected that. "Very well, if you must know, I left out the part where I warped him away from the Fort in the middle of battle."
Hilda gasped. "You what!?"
"Lin. I know why you would, trust me, I don't like any of this either," said Dorothea, who the war weighed as heavily on as it did on him, "But you're lucky - if he hadn't come to our side after, we'd just have to fight him later. All you would have done is postpone the pain."
The thought had occurred to him at the time. Caspar had indicated that he was willing to defect, which helped, but Linhardt may have done the same even if he hadn't. Dorothea was a much better person than he was. Linhardt had just been selfish; he had not wanted to be the one to kill his best friend. Sure, he could have easily been postponing the inevitable, but at least then, in that moment, he would not have to do the deed himself. But he could perhaps keep that to himself, as trying to explain it was far too much effort.
"Except for the fact he did join us, so it doesn't matter."
"Still…" Dorothea looked concerned. "I mean, I'm happy he's back with us."
Hilda cleared her throat. "Alright, but was he already going to join up or did you say something or do something…"
"Why not ask Caspar the details? Being interrogated is exhausting."
"I can't speak for Hilda, but I wanted to check in on a friend, Lin." That did track with Dorothea's usual behavior.
"I wanted to know if you two got together or something," said Hilda, casually tossing that one out there with as much ease as she threw an axe into someone's chest with much the same feeling, and followed it up with a second hit just as quickly when she added, "I hope I didn't step on any toes when I made a move on him."
Linhardt felt strangely distant.
Dorothea gasped in that particular way she did when romance came up. "Really? You and Caspar?"
"Well, yeah, it didn't work, so I was wondering if it was me or if he was already with someone… and you know if he was, it'd be Linhardt."
Dorothea cupped a cheek in her hand. "It's true."
"Caspar and I are not in a romantic relationship," said Linhardt with unusual speed of speech. "But what do you mean it didn't work? Did he turn you down?"
Hilda shook her head. "No, it was like he just didn't get what I was trying to say."
Linhardt sighed, resting his head in his chin. At least it wasn't just him, then. "That sounds more like Caspar. He seems determined to miss the point."
Like Flayn smelling fish, Dorothea's attention snapped to that. "Speaking from experience?"
Linhardt considered his options with regard to his response and which of those would involve the least amount of effort. Telling the truth seemed like the most amount of effort up front, but if Hilda was making moves on Caspar… he told himself he wasn't jealous, but rather that he could prevent further misunderstandings.
"Yes," he said, and almost immediately regretted his choice when Hilda and Dorothea barraged him with an avalanche of questions.
Behind them was the sound of a book closing shut with an irritable snap. "Do you people mind taking this somewhere else?"
Dorothea and Hilda looked around past Linhardt, who didn't need to look to know who was behind him. For starters, Lysithea's voice, ever lacking patience, was unmistakable. Secondly, she had been in the library since before he arrived and he had no reason to believe she had left.
"Yes," he said, trying to get back to his book, "Why don't you two go somewhere else?"
He wasn't technically dragged out of the library, more like delicately and insistently led out by two most determined young ladies. Now instead of being cornered in the library, he was cornered by the window in the hall outside the library. He should have just read in his own room.
"You said you two weren't a thing!" said Hilda, in a hissed low voice.
"We're not, to be in a relationship both parties must mutually agree to be in one, don't they?" Linhardt was not hurrying to explain, he was already tired of this. "He completely ignored any attempts to broach the subject before, so eventually I gave up."
"I see, so that's what happened," said Dorothea, who, from her face and tone, seemingly could not decide whether or not to be amused or sympathetic.
"At least it wasn't just me," said Hilda, mirroring Linhardt's thoughts so precisely that any jealousy he had was replaced by a certain comradery. Not to mention further evidence of Caspar's obliviousness.
Come to think of it, that gave him a thought. "Hm, when studying something, you have to be able to replicate the results in order to know you're drawing the correct conclusion."
"Okay, you're gonna have to explain that one," said Hilda, tugging on her own hair.
"I'm not sure if that's the best idea, Lin." Dorothea was on the same page even if they didn't agree on the content thereof.
Linhardt raised a finger. "Attend. The theory is that Caspar does not recognize romantic advances as such, correct? But if it's simply Hilda and I as examples, there's not enough data to draw that conclusion."
Dorothea covered her face in a hand. "Here we go."
Hilda grinned. "Oh, I get it! So if we want to know if he's really oblivious or just not that into us, we get some volunteers, have them flirt with him -"
"I'm sorry, but I'm going to stop you right there," interrupted Dorothea putting a hand between them, "before you come up with a really bad plan."
Linhardt sniffed. "I don't see why it's such a bad idea, experiments are how scientific progress is made."
"Except this isn't about scientific progress, this is about Caspar. Your friend. Think about it - if your idea is to get other people to flirt with him, what happens if he does notice? What if he realizes that the person didn't mean it, or worse, that you two are playing with his feelings?"
Hilda had the capacity to look as ashamed as Linhardt felt, and she looked down, scuffing a toe on the floor. "You're right. I didn't think of that, that would be really mean."
Linhardt tried to keep his voice dispassionate as he said, "I can see the ethical dilemma."
"Do you always hide your feelings behind scholarly interest, Lin?" Dorothea's gaze was piercing. It had been a while since it had been directed at him, and he had not missed its absence.
"Excuse me?"
"When emotions are involved, you always make it about your studies, or your Crest research, or your supposedly impartial observations. Do you actually have a problem connecting to people, or are you using those things as justifications to hide your real thoughts?"
Linhardt did not know what to say to that. Hilda didn't help, going silent and turning wide eyes toward him. He tried to think, but the only thing that felt right was a little bit of both.
"I will tell people I'm fond of them if I am," He eventually said, which was true.
"Wait," said Hilda, "Was that what you said to Caspar?"
"Something like that."
"But… fond can just mean, like, friends, right?"
"Are you criticising me?" asked Linhardt, frowning at her. "It wasn't exactly what I said either."
"No, silly, I think I get it. Caspar didn't get what I was saying because I was using a euphemism he misread. But you, you're his best friend. I bet if you said stuff like that to him, he was probably all," Hilda imitated Caspar's voice, badly: "you're my best bro, Linhardt, I'm fond of you too!"
She was surprisingly accurate. "Then what are you suggesting?"
Hilda looked at Dorothea. Dorothea met her eyes and twirled a strand of hair around her finger before looking back at Linhardt. "You could ask him to marry you, that wouldn't be easy to explain away."
Linhardt could feel heat rising in his face, an unusual occurrence but one entirely deserved in this case.
"That's getting a bit ahead of things. I had said that I had given up already, and now you're already trying to marry me off to him?"
"Fine, if either of you wanted him to get it, that's what I'd suggest. He knows what marriage means just fine."
"I think I'll pass," said Hilda, "I just wanted a little make out session. That all seems too much work when there's so many good-looking fish in the sea, or, uh, Monastery."
Linhardt was not so quick to dismiss the idea. He knew that he would still be pleased if Caspar returned his feelings. He may even find the energy to be delighted. But he shrugged. "If Caspar was interested, he would have said something. When has Caspar ever hesitated at doing anything?"
"You have a point," said Dorothea, but she didn't sound so sure.
"If that's all," said Linhardt, with a tone of finality, "I'm going back to my book."
The Professor approved Caspar's plan of learning to ride a wyvern and set him to working on his flying. He had even been assigned to the week's group task alongside Hilda.
He liked Hilda. For all she made a fuss about not wanting to fight, she was really good at it. And she was always so nice to him, like the other day. She was a good buddy, and he was glad he could hang out with her again.
Flying as a group exercise was essentially taking the flying animals, wyverns and pegasuses out for a walk, except, you know, in the air. It was relatively straightforward.
Afterward, as him and Hilda led the last two mounts back, she spoke up. "So Linhardt won't say how he convinced you to join up."
He blinked. "He didn't, mostly."
"Okay, you got to tell the story."
He did, telling her all about it in detail, leaving out his feelings for Linhardt and the part where he had cried like a baby.
"And then I got on his horse - that's not weird, is it? Two guys sharing a horse?"
Hilda looked very amused. "No? Why would it be weird?"
"Oh, okay, yeah, duh, obviously," said Caspar, hiding his face behind the Wyvern he was leading.
"So let me get this straight," said Hilda, "You basically came back so you could be with Linhardt again?"
"And I don't know, dissatisfaction."
Hilda tried to peer around the wyvern to see his face. "But mostly Linhardt."
Caspar's stomach twisted. "I guess so."
"Goddess," said Hilda, throwing back her head and rolling her eyes, "You're both idiots."
That got Caspar to stare at her. "Huh? Wait, shouldn't you be happy we joined up with you guys?"
She shook her head and swept that aside with her free hand. "Not what I meant. I'm glad you're here."
"Oh." Caspar was still confused, but he said, "Thanks, I'm glad we're here too."
They stabled the mounts and Hilda stepped out in front of him and said, "Okay, you should be really grateful I get over rejection easily, despite me being very attractive and a total catch -"
"What?" Caspar was incredibly confused. Where was this coming from? "Who rejected you?"
Hilda sighed. "Never mind. But you're so hopeless that it's going to bother me if I don't say anything so - Caspar, I need you to listen to me."
"I've been listening to you this whole time, it's just you're not making any sense."
She snapped her fingers. "Caspar. Focus. I don't normally do things for other people and this is extremely magnanimous of me, trust me."
"Okay…?" He looked into her eyes, trying to listen really hard.
She put both hands on his shoulders and looked directly into his eyes. "You love Linhardt, right? Specifically, you love him romantically?"
He hadn't expected this angle of attack in a million years, he had no counters, no defense. "What?! How did you…? How?"
"Nailed it," she said with a sigh and let go of him. "Figures."
Caspar smacked his face, dragging his hand down it and groaning. "You were just guessing and I walked right into it, didn't I?"
She shrugged. "Yeah, but don't feel bad. More importantly, why haven't you said anything?"
Caspar frowned, crossing his arms. "I'm his best friend, if he was interested I'd know. I figured our friendship was more important!"
"Okay first, that's dumb, you won't know if he's interested unless you ask, especially you." Caspar would have protested but she had a point. "Second, let's say you didn't have feelings for him and he asked you out, would you stop being friends with him?"
"No," said Caspar, barely needing to think about it, "Why would I?"
"So even if he doesn't like you back," Hilda seemed to be straining to keep her face straight while she said that, "Do you think he would stop talking to you?"
For that one Caspar did have to stop and think about it a moment. "No," he said slowly, "I mean, if he's still my friend even after being on opposite sides of a war, it would be kind of silly…"
"Exactly," said Hilda, bopping his nose, "I have a hunch things might go better than you expect but even then, it's super easy to not get weird about that kind of thing and move on. Speaking of, since I've done you a major favor, help me get a date with Marianne or Lorenz and we'll call it even."
Caspar has been about to ask why she thought it would go well when he was blindsided by that last request. "You sure you want me to help? I'm terrible at romance, in case you haven't noticed."
"Yeah, but that's okay." She smiled. "I'm terrible at asking people for help outright but look at what I just did. We all got our hangups."
Caspar smiled, though a part of him was still reeling. He had long since decided to just leave things between him and Linhardt the way they were. Now, for the first time in ages, he started thinking about changing that. How would he even do that?
Linhardt was trying to nap. Normally the word 'trying' never entered into it. He would simply close his eyes and off he'd go. Today, however, his thoughts were occupied.
He had known Caspar for so long, even though their fathers didn't like each other and their home territories weren't close, they always seemed to run into each other again eventually. Whether it was townhouses in Enbarr or the Academy or the war, like migrating birds they kept coming back home.
He remembered the thick feeling in his throat when he rounded the corner in Fort Merceus and realized who was there. He had only gone on ahead to escape seeing the blood pooling on stone floors in the aftermath of all that death. He hadn't been looking for a fight. It was obscenely lucky he hadn't found one. That meeting echoed in his mind, like a puzzle unsolved, a book missing pages, unfinished.
'I would have come with you.'
What those words meant to him was annoyingly indescribable. Why didn't he ask Caspar to come with him? Because he was running away? Hoping that he'd find someone else and when he saw Caspar again it would be as someone he loved but not as someone he was in love with.
It had backfired completely. After their reunion what had once been a long-lasting pond of an infatuation was as deep and as treacherous as the sea with how far he had fallen in so short a time. If only trying to get through to Caspar wasn't such a large amount of effort. But then, maybe Caspar was worth exerting himself for.
Enough. The nap was not happening. He would have to do something.
Linhardt got off his bed, ran a hand through his hair to make sure there were no tangles and, satisfied, left his room.
Caspar was sitting beside his door. "Oh, Linhardt!"
He watched him scramble to his feet, faster than Linhardt could offer a hand. "What are you doing?"
Caspar brushed himself off, not looking at his face. "I didn't want to wake you so I figured I'd just wait."
Linhardt raised his eyebrows. "You waited for something?"
Caspar absently scratched his neck, still avoiding Linhardt's gaze. "Okay, I actually got here maybe half a minute ago and if you didn't wake up soon I was gonna knock."
That sounded more like Caspar. "Was there a reason you wanted to see me?"
"I always want to see you," Caspar blurted out, before he groaned, covering his face in his hand, "Wait, that came out wrong."
That surprised Linhardt. Normally Caspar wouldn't notice or call attention to absurd statements like that one. That he would notice was a step in a direction, but Linhardt wasn't sure if it would be a step forward or step back. If Caspar tried to amend his language specifically so there would be no connotations that could be construed as romantic, that would drive Linhardt up a wall.
Caspar continued. "There was something! You know how I've been practicing my flying recently?"
Considering that Caspar had started as soon as he got back and rarely shut up about anything, Linhardt was exceedingly aware. "Yes, and?"
"I found this great place I wanted to show you!" Caspar finally met his eyes, brimming with nervous enthusiasm. "It's not really a secret, I found out, just we weren't allowed up there when we were students."
"Is it that balcony on the third floor." His tone was flat. The idea already made Linhardt feel tired. "Up all those stairs…"
"Don't worry!" Caspar said, "I have a friend stashed around the corner who can help us out."
Caspar's 'friend' was a wyvern, and though Linhardt wasn't particularly enthused about the idea, he was even less enthused about taking the stairs. So, once again, they shared a mount. This time, however, it was Linhardt who rode behind, arms wrapped around Caspar's waist. Caspar also wasn't wearing his armor for once. He was soft without it. And not just that - Linhardt gave a tentative sniff and Caspar's clothes smelt… clean. No musty smell of sweat. He'd actually cleaned them. Was it just a coincidence?
It didn't take long to get where they were going, and Linhardt slid off the wyvern and onto the balcony, looking over the whole monastery. It was an amazing view. He leaned on the wall and looked over everything, wondering what was so special that Caspar had insisted on this.
He looked around and caught Caspar watching him rather than their surroundings. Caspar's expression made the breath catch in Linhardt's throat. His eyes and smile were soft in a way he rarely saw from Caspar.
That expression soon turned into a grin as their eyes met. "It's nice, isn't it?"
The awareness of how fast his heart was beating was very distracting, Linhardt thought. "You always did have a talent for finding little secluded spots like this."
Caspar joined him, leaning over the edge. "I'd discover 'em trying to find a place you'd like to nap."
A smile was tugging at Linhardt's lips. "Was that why? I never realized."
Caspar's fingers were tapping the wall as if they were a release valve for excess energy. "I liked making you happy."
Linhardt felt a bit of a blush coming on. How exceedingly unfair it was that Caspar was so good. How did a little hellion like that turn out to be one of the best people? It was worth further study.
"I love you." Linhardt hadn't planned it or considered it before the words came out. But it wasn't impulsive the way Caspar was, it was a statement of truth that was the natural progression of everything up to that point.
Caspar's face went pink, and he looked around at Linhardt with wide eyes. "Okay, um, I'm really bad at this and - do you mean you love me or you love me?" But Caspar kept talking without waiting for an answer, his voice increasing in speed and pitch. "Because - because if you mean you're in love with me -" He swallowed. "I mean -"
It was difficult to tell if this was a good reaction or a bad reaction, and that wasn't an uncertainty that Linhardt liked, but what was clear was that finally, finally after so long and so much effort, it was starting to get through to him. "I meant I'm in love with you, Caspar, obviously."
"But I - I was going to say it! I brought you up here because I was going to confess!" A grin started to spread across Caspar's wonderful, beautiful face. "So you do? You - wow, really?"
Linhardt wrapped his arms around Caspar's shoulders and let their foreheads press together. "I do. And you?"
"Yeah!" In contrast to his vocal enthusiasm, Caspar's hands around Linhardt's waist were tentative. "I love you so much it hurts."
"Now that won't do," said Linhardt with a smile, happier than he had ever been, "If you hurt, I should kiss it better."
Caspar's cheeks got pinker. "Oh! You mean you want to kiss me, right?"
"Yes, Caspar," said Linhardt with barely contained impatience, "It means I want to kiss you."
Caspar didn't hesitate, leaning up and pulling Linhardt in, kissing him softly at first in a way that was so sweet and warm and a little bit awkward but Linhardt would have died for another one. Luckily, he didn't have to, because he could kiss him back.
It was quite some time before they stopped exchange kisses to laugh and hold each other.
Caspar buried his face in Linhardt's shoulder. "Let's never fight ever again."
"Caspar," said Linhardt, pressing his lips to his head, "We didn't really fight a first time."
Curled up in bed together, Caspar wrapped around Linhardt, they talked about things.
" - wait! So when you said we were more than friends, even then?"
"Yes, Caspar."
"Wow. What about the ball?"
"Clearly."
"Okay, what about when you gave me flowers for my birthday?"
Linhardt paused, snuggling into Caspar's chest. "Actually, that was because the greenhouse was right there and I didn't feel like going to the market."
"I knew it."