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Hubert von Vestra has faced all manner of horrors in his life. He recalls being summoned to aid Lady Edelgard when the experiments had left her half dead and too weak to stand. He remembers fighting off men three times his size for days, with only scraps of food to sustain him. And he can still, in an instant, conjure up the face of his father in his mind as Hubert curled his fingers into a fist and choked him with his own blood.
With all he has seen, with all he has done, nothing should be capable of stopping him in his tracks. Yet there he stands, frozen, staring down the path before him. It’s winding and narrow, nothing new for their lot. The war is slow going, all advantages must be taken. And there’s a perfect spot for an outpost tower just ahead. Up the winding path, up, up, up.
The beast of burden he’s been forced to ride is bad enough, but the thought of steering it up the mountain before him is… well… quite a bit worse than most deaths he’s ever envisioned for himself.
“Come along, Hubert, we ought to try to reach the top by nightfall!”
And of course, scaling a cliff with a horse isn’t enough. No, Edelgard had seen fit to task both him and Ferdinand with this particular mission. Hubert, as much as it pains him, can see the reasoning in such a choice. Ferdinand is one of the most capable riders in the Strike Force and he’s already successfully aided in establishing several other such outposts, having helped lay some of the foundations for this one already.
He also apparently, has no issue with the prospect of heights. Wonderful. How nice for him.
Hubert lets his eyes stray to the path again. “Are we certain this is the best route? And that the horses can manage it? It looks to grow quite narrow. If we lose the steeds or any of the supplies, Lady Edelgard won’t be pleased.”
“Do not be concerned,” Ferdinand says lightly, lifting a hand in a little wave. “I have taken several horses along this path already. There are a few spots that get a little tricky, but if we pass single file or dismount to lead the horses along, we should not have any trouble.”
“Hmm. What of the path on the other side of the ridge? That was more even and a bit wider, yes?” Hubert keeps his tone even, measured. “It seems we would be able to make our way up more quickly that way.”
“Yes and no. We would have to circle most of the mountain and several hills. And the terrain is treacherous in places to reach the path. This really is the fastest option. Caspar and I scouted it out quite extensively already.” Ferdinand frowns at him, his eyebrows slightly drawn. Suspicion. “Is something wrong, Hubert?”
“No,” he says, maybe a little too quickly. Hubert takes a quick breath through his nose to steady himself. “Let’s be off then. The sooner this is finished, the sooner we may return to Lady Edelgard.”
Hubert spurs his horse into motion before Ferdinand can say another word. The fewer he gets out the better. Perhaps that’s unkind. Since the war began, Ferdinand has been as loyal an ally as any other. On occasion, Hubert has even found himself appreciating his input, as impractical as his suggestions often are. And he cannot deny that Ferdinand’s presence alone does wonders for morale in a way that his never has. He would not call the two of them friends… but they are certainly something close to it.
Unfortunately, Ferdinand is more than twice the rider Hubert’s ever been and catches up to him in mere moments, that suspicious look not quite gone from his face. “Are you certain that you are feeling well, Hubert? If you need to rest before we head up--”
“I’m perfectly fine, thank you.” The clipped tone is unfair, but the matter needs to be dropped. Hubert lets out a breath and risks another glance Ferdinand’s way. “I simply dislike the prospect of trying to lure this beast up a crumbling cliff side.”
“I would not call it crumbling,” Ferdinand says, though he casts a frown at the rising rocks and dirt before them. “The horses had little difficulty before. But if you find yourself struggling, I can guide yours along if you like.”
The offer is a kindness, Hubert knows, but it stings like an insect bite, itching and uncomfortable. “I’m quite capable of managing on my own. I haven’t needed your help mastering a mount for some time, if you care to remember.”
“I was not saying that.” There’s a slight twinge of hurt to Ferdinand’s tone and another glance his way reveals a slight pout to his lips.
It isn’t often that Hubert feels guilt for much of anything, but there’s a slight touch of it now. Ferdinand has done nothing wrong, truly. As petty as their arguments often are, Hubert knows when he’s lashed out unfairly. And this… this has next to nothing to do with Ferdinand. It certainly isn’t his fault that the prospect of seeing the world from the top of that ridge nearly turns Hubert’s stomach. They’re already fairly high up, though the path has been even and slow until now, far less obvious. Once they reach the cliffs though, there will be no mistaking just how far they are from level ground.
“I know,” Hubert says, after a few moments, his tenuous shreds of a conscience getting the best of him. “It isn’t you… I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Do you ever?” Ferdinand teases, a slight grin on his face. But at least the tension is out of the air.
Hubert allows a huff of a laugh even as he rolls his eyes. “On occasion, yes. Being so far from Garreg Mach makes me uneasy. I know Lady Edelgard and the others are quite capable of handling themselves, but…”
“I know, Hubert. I think I understand. I have been worried about them as well.” The corner of Ferdinand’s eyes crinkle slightly as he gives Hubert a sideways look he doesn’t trust. “But I had not expected to hear that from you.”
“Oh? You think I should be unconcerned that Linhardt may have let a candle burn down the library in his sleep? Or that Bernadetta may have accidentally scared off a dozen horses with her panic?” A few years before, such concerned may have been genuine, but now, Hubert fights a smirk from growing on his face, a trace of laughter lingering in his words.
Ferdinand has no such reservations, tossing back his head and mane of hair with a bright chuckle. He shakes his head. “They would never! Well, Linhardt might let all the candles burn down to nothing, but even so. And do not think you have me fooled, Hubert. You miss them, don’t you?”
Hubert presses his lips into a thin line, but there’s no true agitation. “I would not use those words.”
And he doubts he ever would. But he might think them. Attachment is a rare and dangerous beast, prone to injuring those that hold it too close. For so long there was Edelgard and Edelgard alone consuming the cold chambers of his heart. And yet, since he had turned his back on the church to follow her and found others falling into step with him, he can’t deny that considerable fondness has begun to bloom.
Tenuous strands of trust tie him now. And though meant as a cover, his assertions are not entirely false. Even on this mission, he’s found his mind drifting, wondering if Bernadetta’s made her way out of her room long enough to eat something, or if Dorothea has received any word from her latest suitor, or even if Linhardt has truly recovered from his last encounter on the front lines. They’re all far more than just fellow students now. They are comrades… and ones Hubert is more than grateful to have.
Casting another look at Ferdinand’s knowing smile, Hubert allows himself to offer a small one in return. “I expect we will simply have to wait and see if the rest of the monastery is in ruins until we return.”
Ferdinand laughs again. “Indeed. Come, let’s pick up the pace. The men at the top will be in dire need of direction by now.”
Hubert sincerely doubts as much, the men sent ahead are skilled in their craft, having erected at least a dozen outposts just like this one before, but he holds his tongue and gives another little flick of his reigns. His horse makes soft sounds of protest, but follows direction easily enough.
Idle chatter passes back and forth between them for the first few hours as they continue their trek, but once they round a bend and the path abruptly grows steeper and far more narrow, Hubert finds his responses more and more clipped and cut off. While the road before was even and wide enough for several horses to pass alongside each other without issue, this new curve seems to be cut straight into the cliffs themselves. There’s a slight ridge along the far side, barely more than a few inches of lip before the drop.
Steeling himself, Hubert keeps his eyes on the path before them. He lets Ferdinand take first position, trusting his horse to follow the one before it. Better that than him attempting to steer with shaking hands. If he looks down, he is lost, but his eyes threaten to betray him again and again, straying ever closer to that edge. The distance is not half so great as it looks, he had examined a number of elevation maps the night before to prove it to himself. But knowing and feeling are two unfortunately different things.
Fear is but a matter of the mind, Hubert knows that. But his trembling fingers do not. His turning stomach refuses to understand. And the terror creeping up and wrapping tight around his lungs cares nothing for the facts he keeps forcing through his head.
“Easy here,” Ferdinand calls back to him, holding up a hand to signal a stop.
Hubert jerks his reigns to pull his horse still and the beast whinnies in disapproval, feet shifting the rocks beneath both of them and sending Hubert’s heart leaping into his throat. Pebbles roll away from beneath the horse’s hooves, roll and roll to that edge. And then they fall.
And Hubert cannot tear his eyes away.
They’ve been climbing steadily for so long. The fields below are distant, tiny things. The world shifts and distorts the more he looks, pulling further and further away. And he is so, so impossibly close to that edge. One shift and he’ll surely topple straight over it. Wind rushes in his ears and his heart hammers in his chest, his throat, his head.
“--Hubert, are you listening to me?” Ferdinand’s been speaking to him.
With a sharp breath through his nose, Hubert forces his eyes from the edge. Ferdinand’s already dismounted his horse, standing beside the creature, holding an apple for it to sloppily munch in one hand. Hubert swallows his heart back down. “What?”
“I was just saying that we should take this next part on foot.” Ferdinand’s head tips to one side, hair shifting over his shoulders as his brow knits together. “Are you sure that you are alright? You seem paler than usual. Do you need a break?”
Hubert almost laughs at the idea. Spending even more time on this accursed cliff face? Just what he needs.
“No. I’m fine.” The words sound choked and bitten off even to his own ears. Attempting to will his hands steady, Hubert leverages himself off the horse. This dismount is not his best, his feet catching loose pebbles and nearly sending him stumbling. He shuts his eyes and braces himself. But the fall doesn’t come. A warm, strong arm catches him about the waist and a firm hand grips his shoulder to ease him to more even footing. When Hubert risks opening his eyes, he finds warm concerned ones blinking back at him.
“Hubert, what has happened to you? You look ready to faint? Are you ill?” Ferdinand’s words are heavy with shock as he guides Hubert back and lets him lean against the sheer rocky cliff beside them. “Shall I get you some water?”
Hubert shakes his head as he tips his head back against the rock, taking a few breaths. They do little to ease the shaking of his hands or the tightness in his chest. He needs to speak, to overcome this… this momentary lapse. They have to continue on. Resting here is not an option. He must do this for Lady Edelgard.
But as he opens his eyes again, they find the edge and he immediately flattens his back to the cliff, arms spreading at his sides as if to grab for purchase. If he takes another step, he is lost. There is no other way.
“Take the horses,” Hubert says, his voice rough and strained even to his own ears.
Ferdinand looks at him sharply, eyebrows shooting up in shock. “What?”
“You must take the horses and leave me here.”
The noise that comes out of Ferdinand’s mouth next is almost a laugh. “Hubert, what are you saying? It is not that much further--”
“Then it should be no trouble for you to take the horses up yourself. I will be here. I simply… I need a moment.” He needs a good deal more than that. He needs to be off this cliff. He needs to have solid ground back beneath his feet. He needs to close his eyes and forget this ever happened.
But he’s quite certain it’s too late for that. Ferdinand’s here. He’s seen. He knows.
“I don’t understand.” Ah, then again, perhaps he doesn’t. When Hubert risks a look at Ferdinand, he finds his face drawn with concern and confusion, his perfect noble poise slipping. “I can help you if you need assistance, simply tell me what is wrong!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Hubert snaps back. “Take the horses and leave me! You said yourself, the men need your direction, so go on and give it! I will join you shortly.”
There’s too much bite to his words, far too much venom, enough to make Ferdinand step back and recoil. It isn’t deserved, but Hubert doesn’t take it back. He levels Ferdinand with a glare until his shoulders slump and he turns to tend to the horses. It takes only a few moments for him to link the pair of them up so he can steer both at once. As he takes the first horse’s reigns, he glances back at Hubert, traces of confusion still lingering on his face.
“Go on,” he says, before Ferdinand has a chance to speak, his tone less biting now. “I will join you at the top soon.”
Ferdinand lets out a huff, but nods. “See that you do.”
Without another word, he turns and guides the horses along the winding path. Good, it’s better this way. The last thing he needs is Ferdinand blathering on while he masters himself. Hubert shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. The cliff is not so tall, he remembers the exact height marked on the maps when they had been planning the journey. And the path is not nearly as narrow as it looks. Ferdinand had proved that just now. The horses had little trouble with it. For a slim man to walk it should be a trifle.
Hubert opens his eyes and the mountain tries to shift sideways beneath him.
His breath comes in short uneven bursts as he finds the edge again. The fading light casts long shadows that stretch out over the world beneath him, pulling it further and further away. Rocks shift under his feet with even the slightest movement. Terror burns and chills as it creeps up his chest and draws tight around his throat.
He… he can’t do this. His feet have frozen in place, his knees shaking even as he presses his legs flat to the rock at his back. Hubert shuts his eyes again. Fear is a matter of the mind. Fear is a matter of the mind. Fear is a matter--
His mind has betrayed him.
Shame churns his stomach as much as the altitude. It creeps up his spine and settles on his shoulders, weighing him down until he begins to sink down with it. Hubert’s back stays pressed to the rocks as he curls in on himself, knees tight against his heaving chest. There’s nothing to be done. He can’t move. Bested by a damned cliff. How can he face Lady Edelgard now? All he’s done for her, all he’s promised and he can’t manage a simple climb?
He should have asked Ferdinand to cast him off the side of the cliff before he left.
Hubert doesn’t know how long he stays there. It could be hours, it could be days. Head pressed to his knees, he can’t make out much of anything. Wind rushes past his ears and tugs at his hair, but he pays it little mind. He’s vaguely aware of voices somewhere beyond his pathetic resting spot. Perhaps Ferdinand was right and the top of the mountain was just out of his reach. If he had been a bit stronger, a bit braver…
It matters little. He’s failed, his hands still shaking where he grips at his own legs, fingers biting into the fabric of his trousers. If he could just lift his head up, make himself move. But fear has swallowed him whole. It aches in him to the bone, every sound of shifting rocks however slight has him shaking anew.
Stones crunch louder under heavy footsteps and Hubert tries to suck in a steadying breath. The fool must’ve returned for him. He can’t see this. Hubert cannot allow it. But air won’t stay in his lungs, his hands won’t still. Even a slight shift with only the barest thought of movement makes him certain his legs will not hold.
“--Hubert, are you still here? Hubert, I…” Ferdinand’s voice cuts through the wind in his ears and the frantic beating of his heart. Rocks and dirt shift and crunch suddenly louder, closer, and then a hand lands on his shoulder. “What’s happened? Hubert, are you alright? I shouldn’t have left, I’m sorry! Are you hurt? Have you been attacked?”
Ferdinand’s questions crash into him and he half wishes he could answer yes. Breath still coming in uneven bursts, Hubert forces his head up. He finds Ferdinand crouched over him, his other hand hovering as if ready to look for injuries, his eyes wide and open with something almost like panic. “I…” Hubert’s voice is weak and raspy as his gaze strays to the edge of the cliff again. “I haven’t been attacked.”
“Then what? Is it…” Ferdinand’s eyes slowly follow his own and Hubert braces himself. Shame redoubles and threatens to crush him into the dirt. Mockery is coming and it will be well deserved. “I… I do not understand. Hubert?”
“It’s too high.” The words leave him in a rush and Hubert tears his eyes from Ferdinand and the cliff’s edge, instead glaring at the dirt and rock beneath him. “It should be a simple matter, one foot in front of the other up to the top, but I… I take one look at the edge and already feel as though I’m falling.”
He can feel Ferdinand’s eyes on him. “You’re afraid? Hubert, are you afraid of heights? Why did you not say something sooner?”
Terror still gripping him or not, Hubert cocks a single brow at Ferdinand and inclines his head haughtily. He shouldn’t dignify such a question with a response. Admit to fear and give away such an exploitable weakness? Death would be preferable.
But Ferdinand doesn’t look as though he’s about to make a joke. Concern is still foremost in his eyes. So Hubert takes another breath and tips his head back against the rock. “I was given this task by Lady Edelgard. Was I to tell her that I could not accomplish such a simple task because I was afraid?”
Ferdinand blinks at him, eyebrows rising. “You mean she does not know?”
Hubert lets out a breath that isn’t quite a laugh. “You think her cruel enough to assign me such a task knowing how difficult it would be? No, she doesn’t know. I never wanted her to… nor anyone else. I thought if I sent you away, I might master my fear and make it to the top. But…”
His voice sticks in his throat and his gaze flits back to the ground beneath them. Some of the shake has gone out of him, perhaps enough that he could begin to make his descent back down the mountain. “I should attempt to take my leave. You can do as you will, write to Lady Edelgard and tell her of my failings--”
“Take my hand.”
Hubert turns sharply, a sudden slight pain in his neck protesting even as he finds Ferdinand’s offered hand before him. There’s a gentleness to the noble features before him, a soft smile and warm eyes. “We will reach the summit and finish our task together.”
“I…” Swallowing thickly, Hubert looks between Ferdinand’s hand and the cliff for a moment before reaching for the former. At least his gloves hide the clamminess of his hands, if not the tremble.
Ferdinand eases him to his feet, his other hand moving to Hubert’s side to help steady him. Though, with the strength he so often sees of Ferdinand in battle, Hubert has little doubt that he could have simply dragged him the last of the way if he wanted. Once he’s steady, Ferdinand shifts them, putting himself between Hubert and the cliff’s edge, keeping one arm locked firmly about his waist as they begin to walk.
Hubert keeps his eyes downcast. It is not as though this is without precedent, Ferdinand has always had a strangely grand capacity for kindness, even where it is not deserved. Still, he can’t shake the surprise. He ought to say something, express gratitude, or perhaps attempt to cast off his guiding hands and insist he can make it on his own. But he does neither, the effort of keeping his legs steady beneath him taking first priority.
Against him, Ferdinand never wavers, his grip tight, but not constricting, his steps never faster than Hubert can keep up with. “Would it help to speak of something else to take your mind off things?”
“I…” Hubert finds himself blinking, though he doesn’t trust his feet to continue on the path if he takes his eyes off of it. “I suppose it might.”
“Well then, tell me truly, what do you think of the proposed alliance with the mercenaries from Dagda? I suspect they may have some ulterior motives for seeking out a personal meeting with Lady Edelgard,” Ferdinand says, his tone as even and casual as if they were speaking in the war room back at Garreg Mach and not making their way further and further up.
Hubert’s tongue catches his teeth with a displeased noise. “They do. They mean to make a show of power and attempt to convince her to pay them twice what they’ve already asked.”
Ferdinand laughs, bright and easy. “Of course you already have them figured out. Your mind truly is a wonder, Hubert.”
The idle chatter carries them up and around another few curves until the ground beneath them levels out a bit and the half built outpost comes into view. A few men still seem to be working at it, though with the sun setting behind them, a number look to have already called it a night, setting up a campfire to prepare an evening meal. Hubert lets out a breath of relief that’s greater than he means it to be.
“Here we are, that was not so bad, was it?” Ferdinand’s grin is still gentle when Hubert turns to look at him. “I knew you could do it.”
“Hmm, that makes one of us.” Hubert shakes his head and attempts to extract himself from Ferdinand’s grip to take a step away. But his legs haven’t quite come to the understanding that the rest of him has and they shake beneath him. Before he can slip, Ferdinand’s arms are around him again, bracing him.
“Take it easy, Hubert, there is no need to continue pushing yourself. I did not mean to tease you,” Ferdinand says, apology clear in his tone.
Hubert doesn’t deserve that. He shakes his head, eyes dropping to where his hands rest on Ferdinand’s chest. “No I… thank you, Ferdinand. You’ve been very kind. I cannot say I would have been nearly as gracious were the positions reversed.”
“I do not believe that.” There’s an honesty to Ferdinand’s voice that nearly makes Hubert’s breath catch. “You are many things, Hubert, but you are not cruel without reason. If I needed your aid, I’ve no doubt you would have given me your hand just as willingly as I gave mine. “
“Perhaps.” Hubert lets his eyes stray to Ferdinand’s face. The last light of the sun makes his eyes look like burning gold, glimmering and rich. “It doesn’t bother you? The height?”
“Not particularly,” Ferdinand says, shrugging. He turns to look over the valley below then and Hubert lets him do so alone. “I quite like it, honestly. It is exhilarating. I feel as though I could see all of Fodlan from here. Or if I were to step off the edge, the wind might carry me anywhere I wish.”
“I would sincerely caution you against trying.” Hubert lets a slight trace of wry humor creep into his voice even as his hands curl a little tighter into the jacket Ferdinand wears, as if to stop him doing just that. “I’ve never cared for it. When I was young, my father once took me to walk along the highest ramparts of the Imperial palace. I nearly slipped, if it weren’t for one of his men catching me, I would’ve died there. I cannot say if that incident was the start of it or simply when I first became aware. I suppose it doesn’t truly matter.”
“I see. You know, I do not think less of you for it. Everyone is afraid of something, Hubert. I trust you’ve heard the way Lady Edelgard shrieks when she sees a rat?” There’s a laugh in Ferdinand’s voice.
Hubert gives a slight nod, his lips curling into the smallest of smirks. “I have… though that’s nothing compared to how she feels about the ocean.”
Ferdinand’s eyes widen, a strange disbelieving wonder there. “What?”
“If she ever learns I told you, no one will find your body,” Hubert says, but his smirk remains. Letting out a breath, he smooths the front of Ferdinand’s jacket, not quite ready to try to step away again just yet. With all Ferdinand has done for him, he’s earned a few secrets at the very least. “You know… when I was young, I once had dreams of being a pegasus knight.”
“You did not!” Ferdinand’s words are half gasp and Hubert allows himself a soft laugh as he shakes his head.
“It’s true. Though the first time I ever attempted riding one, I nearly fainted before it was five feet from the ground. I still admire those that can ride the cursed things. I suppose that must seem rather foolish.”
“No,” Ferdinand says, sounding almost thoughtful. His hands no longer grip Hubert’s arms to keep him upright, though they remain there, thumbs moving in idle circles. “Not foolish. It’s… and forgive me for saying so, rather sweet really. I can picture you now, little Hubert and your dreams of flying.”
Hubert screws up his face, cringing. “I would thank you for never saying such things again.”
Ferdinand tosses back his head, his laugh like a roar, beast that he is. “I would not dream of it! Your secrets are safe with me, my friend. And… I believe that once we are done here, it would be worth scouting out the other path back down the mountain a second time. I may have been too hasty before.”
Relief hits Hubert like a wave, crashing into him almost violently. He leans forward without meaning to, head coming to rest on Ferdinand’s shoulder. “I… thank you, Ferdinand. Truly.”
He’s half sure he hears a slight hitch in Ferdinand’s breath before those large, strong hands move from his arms to curl around his back. “Think nothing of it. I only ask that once we return to Garreg Mach, you join me the next time I invite you to tea. You have been quite adept at dodging my requests thus far.”
Hubert lets out a soft chuckle before lifting his head to meet Ferdinand’s eyes. “I suppose I have no choice then. Very well.”
Ferdinand beams at him and for an instant, it’s as if the sun hasn’t quite set. “Wonderful,” he says, shifting to sling an arm over Hubert’s shoulders. “Now, let’s see if the men have saved us anything to eat.”
There’s no protest from Hubert as Ferdinand steers him over toward the gathered workers and finds a log for them to sit on beside each other. As mugs of ale are passed around and Ferdinand chats companionably with the common folk, Hubert catches his eye again and again. Perhaps the prospect of tea with him is not such a wretched one after all. It should certainly prove easier than making their way back down the mountain.
Still, if he has Ferdinand at his side, even that may not be quite so terrible.