Work Text:
There were very few people Bernadetta was truly happy to spend her time with. The professor, naturally. Who didn't love her? Dorothea. She was so confident and radiant, Bernie couldn't help but hope some of that rubbed off on her. Edelgard… was a little intense sometimes but she was kind to Bernie.
Hubert was a wholly unexpected addition to this exclusive group accepted by the recluse. It had begun shortly after his discrete removal of Count Varley. Bernie's pacing and muttering outside of his office, wondering whether "to go in and thank him, or was the gift enough, surely most people would also give thanks in person right?", was loud enough to distract him.
"Just come inside already," he said, frustration and strain evident in his voice.
"Hup, uhhm no no, that's alright. Really, I was just passing by and tho-"
"Bernadetta. Inside or leave."
"...Inside."
She entered the circular office, unsurprised by the many desks around the perimeter. Hubert stepped heavily over to one in particular, regarding the array of notes and diagrams while standing. His expression was darker than usual. Bernie let out a careful sigh of relief, but at least he didn't seem upset with her. She began a circuit of the room, glancing over each desk as she went. There wasn't much sense to be made from Hubert's code.
"There's an unfinished cup of coffee somewhere. Could you bring it here?" Hubert spoke suddenly.
Bernie complied with care, visibly flinching at just the idea of Hubert's reaction to the nearly full cup spilling at one of his work stations. She looked at the pages laid out in front of him upon delivery. It seemed to be intricately detailed troop movements over a simple map. Two sides faced each other with various arrows, symbols, and more coded writings. There were two sets of handwriting; one black and the other red.
"What is this?" she asked.
"A game of sorts," Hubert began. "Her Majesty and I do our best to keep each other sharp with theoretical battles such as these. She makes a move and delivers the map to me, and vice versa. Dice rolls determine certain outcomes, the closest we can get to the chaotic nature of battle. Edelgard has me in quite a tricky situation and my response is due within the day or I must forfeit."
It was already mid-afternoon, there wasn't much of the day left. Bernie leaned over the map, thinking…thinking.
"I can't read any of this but the movements are simple enough to figure out," Bernie muttered. Her musings were one sided, not at all expecting a response from Hubert. "The wyverns are closing in. Her cavalry is cutting off the best place your archers could handle them from. You can't leave your magic core unprotected, that's Adrestian warfare rule number one. Hm, hm, hm. Tricky is right."
"You see the dilemma. I considered a long range magical attack but the dice have not been in my favor for that in this battle."
Bernie pointed to a long list of calculations on the side, most of which seemed to favor Edelgard's red ink, "That's what all this is?"
A curt nod.
"What would the professor do…" Bernie wondered.
Hubert laughed in his customarily dry fashion. "I doubt the professor would have let herself fall into such a predicament. It is like she knows the enemy's movements before they do."
"She's really something," Bernie nodded her agreement. "Why don't you send one archer to snipe the commander? It looks like they're barely in range. The right archer could do it, I'm sure."
Another laugh. "Unfortunately, Bernadetta, the dice do not care much for the idea of a talented sniper. There are no heroic Varleys on this battlefield."
Her mouth fell open in shock, a silent void immediately filled with denial. "No no no, I didn't mean it like that! I'm just pointing out-"
Hubert had a bemused smile at her animated protests, complete with a stamping of her foot no less than twice. "In any case, you came here for something, did you not?"
"-and another th- Huh? Oh, yes!" Bernie averted her gaze for a moment before looking Hubert in the eye. "Thank you very much for you-know-what."
Hubert smiled and nodded graciously, "It was the best course of action for all parties involved. Now, if you'll excuse me, I do think your visit has given me a fresh perspective on this battle."
Bernie left with a warm smile, a wave, and an invitation to return the next day. Hubert insisted she see the outcome of the battle.
As requested, she stopped by the spymaster's office the following afternoon. On a whim she had brought along her sketchbook and a pillow to sit on. Hubert was in a much better mood, gesturing emphatically as he explained the moves he and Edelgard had made back and forth that lead to an eventual draw. She brought a chair over and listened comfortably as she drew.
Hubert finished recounting the battle with a satisfied smile. To bring near certain defeat to a draw was a victory in itself.
"I'm loathe to admit it, but Edelgard does tend to win our little war games."
"I bet. She reminded me of the professor sometimes. Well, before the professor came back and started giving us our orders again, you know what I mean."
"I do. What's that you're working on?" Hubert leaned over as he asked, trying to get a look at what Bernie was drawing so intently.
"N-no peeking! You'll see soon, just," Bernie waved her hand in a vague shooing motion, "Do something else for a little while."
He raised a thin eyebrow but complied. He moved to the desk on Bernie's other side and began to write. A half hour, an hour. Nearly two passed in total silence between the two. Hubert drifted to a few other desks and kept to the no peeking rule until Bernie was ready at last.
It wasn't for quite some time, in fact. Over several days they had fallen into a comfortable pattern. In the early afternoon Bernie would come to visit. They would talk, and then go about whatever it was they were up to. Bernie drew while Hubert worked, occasionally taking a break to let Hubert talk about whatever issue he had at hand. It seemed to help his thought process, a fact he observed casually and thanked her profusely for. At last the day came when her drawing was complete.
She stood behind Hubert and was about to clear her throat when she heard him muttering to himself.
"Damn it all he's just so cute."
A switch flipped. Bernie couldn't help herself. Her drawing was unimportant, her nerves nonexistent. Who in the world was that about?
Hubert half turned with a start, seeming to have forgotten Bernie was even there.
"Whoooo-"
"Stop."
"Hubert, whooooo," Bernadetta grinned, unable to resist. He covered his face with one hand, the other tapping the desk relentlessly.
"Please, tell me about your drawing," his voice was weak, desperately trying to divert the conversation.
"Bernie will show you if you tell."
Hubert's glare through splayed fingers was weak, pitiful even. He whispered something into his palm, a name. Bernie leaned closer.
"...inand…"
"FER-" Bernie began, her mouth clamped shut by Hubert's gloved hand. He wasn't angry, not if that wide eyed pout was anything to go by.
"Not so loud, please," he sighed, lowering his hand from Bernie's face.
" Ferdinand ?" Bernie whispered, shock unabated.
Hubert, with great effort and difficulty, nodded his confirmation. "You will keep this a secret, I hope."
Bernie had to laugh, but nodded as she answered, "I'm pretty good at not talking to people, you know."
"Good. Now that that's over with, let's see that drawing. I would be proud to show off your talent."
"Over with? Nuh uh, I'm gonna help you with this so we'll finally be even!"
Hubert paled, no small feat. "Bernadetta that really isn't necessary."
"I insist! Don't you want to run your fingers through his silken hair and listen to his angelic voice? It's written right there," Bernie gestured to the coded letter Hubert was writing.
Hubert's jaw dropped, eyes like platters. He was dumbfounded as Bernie laughed her hardest. He could barely get out the mortified whisper, "How long have you been able to read my notes?"
"Just yesterday. It wasn't so hard to figure out when I realized you write in two codes at once and alternate lines. Then you reverse the pattern for the next paragraph."
Hubert let out a long, long sigh. "I am thankful your distressingly sharp eyes are on our side, Bernadetta. Fine. You can help me with this."