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They’re one step closer to Edelgard. The war is going to end soon.
As the Kingdom army swarms Enbarr, Felix doesn’t move.
He would join the others but he’s stuck in place, completely unable to move.
At his feet, lying dead on the ground, there’s Hubert von Vestra.
- What a shame that we appear to be on different sides of the battlefield -.
Hubert’s voice usually sounds venomous, even when he’s speaking normally and he doesn’t mean to, but this time he sounded almost… nostalgic.
- I suppose it’s too late to test your allegiances, is it not? -.
Felix gritted his teeth. How dared he speak like this after all that happened between them?
- I’m going to rip out your tongue, you viper -.
He ran at him with all the fury in his body, slashing away the soldiers in his way and dodging the mage’s blasts.
The fatal blow, the one who ends Hubert’s life forever, is his.
Felix wants to look away, to stop staring at what is now just a corpse, but he can’t.
So many memories are rushing in his head now, memories of a more peaceful time.
He doesn’t know exactly how to describe their relationship from five years ago, especially after what transpired after his and Edelgard’s betrayal, but they sure were… close.
They were both too stubborn and foolish to admit it, and now look at what that brought them, to having to kill each other.
At first they saw each other quite a lot during their school days, but they didn’t speak: they were just… how can Felix say it… their little secret.
It happened more often than not that they would cross each other at night when Felix went for some additional training – or when he felt restless in general, as he never was that good at being stuck inside one place for a long time – while Hubert did… whatever it is that he did.
Sometimes they nodded at each other as they passed through the halls, knowing that they wouldn’t speak of this with anyone else.
Then one day, Felix was interrupted during training.
- I still don’t understand how the guards haven’t caught you. You aren’t exactly subtle -, Hubert commented, prompting Felix to retort, because when did he ever ask for his opinion?
They began bickering so much that they almost got caught if only they hadn’t been quick enough to duck out of the guards’ field of vision.
From that moment on, every excuse was good enough for them to fight. It was childish of course, petty even, but they didn’t care.
There was a tension between them, a tension that they could clearly feel, but they never thought much of it: they simply hated each other, nothing more, nothing less.
… Then it happened.
Felix doesn’t remember exactly what they were bickering about, but they soon founds themselves gripping at each other for dear life as they kissed each other fiercely and hey, it was a good way to shut the other up.
When they pulled away they both didn’t know what happened or why it did, but soon they were kissing again.
They ended up making a mess of themselves, but it wasn’t so bad. No, it wasn’t at all.
After that episode, they ended up in similar situations over and over, but of course they never revealed this “secret thirsts” – that’s how Hubert jokingly called it once – to anyone.
They were both private people and they wanted nobody to stick their noses up in their business.
Another good thing about this arrangement is that they didn’t talk much: they spoke with actions, not with words, and Felix had always appreciated that as it was easier for him to convey what he felt.
It was usually a hurricane of passion, but sometimes – especially in their last days spent together – there was also gentleness.
Hubert even tried to convince him to join the Black Eagles, but as much as Felix loathed the boar, he knew in his heart that he couldn’t abandon him: he needed someone to watch over him to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid – and look how that ended up as well.
They might’ve been from different reigns but their bond was still real, he didn’t need to switch houses.
It was only after he learned of the betrayal that he truly understood what that request entailed.
Edelgard is dead. The Empire, defeated.
And yet Felix doesn’t feel in the mood to celebrate.
He's wandering through the castle’s halls. He doesn’t even know why.
It’s for a sick twist of fate that he finds himself in the individual quarters, and he notices that, although all the doors are closed, there’s one that’s only slightly ajar.
He doesn’t know what has possessed him, but he peeks inside; the room is spartan, barren even, and somehow, Felix understands immediately where he is. Only one person would live is such a place: Hubert.
A wave of sickness washes through him, and Felix has to hold himself against the wall. He must be still weak for the recent battle – but he knows that’s not the actual reason, it isn’t at all.
He steps inside, mindful to close the door behind him.
The room per se isn’t that different from the one he stayed in at Garreg Mach, but Felix can see that this one is way better armed: there are daggers everywhere, and Felix wouldn’t put it past Hubert to have set some traps in case of unwanted guest intruding his private quarters.
Right, then why is he here like an idiot? He should wait for the others, maybe go to the professor to tell them, but he doesn’t leave.
He realizes how much this room smells of coffee, and before he can stop himself, he smiles, shaking his head; Hubert was obsessed with that beverage. Not that Felix dislikes it – he maybe even started drinking it more than usual, who knows why – but he never loved it as much as the other.
He always had a cup ready in his room; he even had the beans to make it himself if he needed to.
What catches his attention is a stack of papers neatly folded on the desk. Of course they’re a standout, and Felix fears this might be a trap – knowing Hubert, he might’ve poisoned the papers – but he still can’t help but reach for them with trembling hand.
These could be Hubert’s last words, and Felix wants to read them.
He certainly wasn’t expecting to find these words:
Dear
Felix,
If you’re reading these papers, it means that I’m dead, maybe by your hand.
I’m not foolish enough to believe that I could persuade you to join our cause now that you’re so close to winning the war. I intend to give my all in this battle, whether I’ll be facing you or not, as it is my duty to do so not only as Edelgard servant, but also as someone who believes in her ideals.
And yet, even as I find myself writing this to you, my hands are shaking. Could it be trepidation for what will happen tomorrow? I remember you telling me that you always felt similar the days before leaving for a mission that the Academy assigned your class.
To be completely honest… I don’t know exactly what I’m doing, with this. I began writing on a whim. Maybe it is to calm my nerves, who knows.
Whatever happens tomorrow, whoever shall be the winner, there is something that I want you to know, something that I never had the courage to tell you so many years ago, something that I believe you should be made aware of: all the times we spent together, all the kisses effusions we exchanged were true. I’ve told many lies those days, but the feelings I felt for you were never fake. If anything you, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, are my biggest regret: if only I could go back in time, I would waste no time trying to convince you to join our ranks, because even as I don’t plan on showing any hesitation tomorrow, tonight my heart aches at the thought of having to face you in battle.
I wish things could be different but alas, so is war.
If anything I hope that, if I’m going to die, you’ll be the one striking me down. It will bring me peace having seen you one last time
Love,
Hubert von Vestra
Felix’s blood is boiling.
How… how dares he?! He can’t do this!
So first they fight, and let’s not forget, he’s the one who killed him, and then he leaves this shit hanging around so he can read it?
This is… so unfair.
If Hubert was there, he would’ve slapped him.
He wonders if he’s watching him, as he burns into the pits of hell.
Maybe he’s laughing at his misery; even as a dead man he manages to make him suffer.
Is what he wrote even true? Did he really feel any sort of affection towards him?
Felix knows he should doubt it – it’s Hubert we’re talking about after all – but there’s a problem: he wants to believe it, he wants to believe that, had things been different, their story would’ve had a different, happier, ending.
And all he can do now is to drop on the floor, body shaking and hands trembling, vision blurred by tears that he’s fighting back with all his might.
No, he won’t cry for Hubert. He doesn’t deserve it.
And yet, he can’t help but to lament about their fate, about all the things that could’ve been but never will.