Archive of Our Own

There were only a few things that Ferdinand detested with a deep passion, and all of these things seemed to slurry together into the perfect storm that was Hubert von Vestra. The man was always looming behind Edelgard like her shadow, blindly devoted to her, and polluting the air around him with his smug aura and besmirching what it was to be noble.  It felt like a day didn’t go by in their school days where they weren’t fighting. That day wasn’t any different. At first. 

“Edegard! I demand a rematch! Spar with me one more time and I shall defeat you yet!”  Ferdinand yelled after the young matriarch as she left the training grounds, demanding a second chance, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. By the time he was finished calling out, it was clear Edelgard wasn’t coming back. Of course his demand caught the attention of her slobbering hound instead. Within a second, the future-emperor’s shadow had slithered up to Ferdinand, and loomed over him casting a shadow himself that could block out the sun. 

“Enough! Lady Edelgard has been more than amenable to your whims and you have wasted enough of her time.” His eyes stared down at Ferdinand with a clear conviction that bit like a poisoned blade to his heart and the sickening grin of his made his stomach churn. Oh how Ferdinand hated this lout. “So, I advise that you accept your defeat, and cower back to the stables where you belong and sing songs of your noble greatness to that half-witted broodmare you treasure so much. That thing is the only creature on this earth dumb enough to listen, after all..”

With each word he muttered, Ferdinand felt his blood pressure rise higher and higher. His face was steaming red, he could feel it, and the ringing in his ears reached a deafening pitch. It was so loud and so distracting that Ferdinand scarcely noticed his own hand reaching up, grabbing the collar of Hubert’s uniform in tight fist, and pulling the stupid mutt down to his own eye level. 

“SHUT UP , you thick-headed MONGREL!!! How dare you address me in such a way and say such things to me. I am Ferdinand von Aegir, the next Prime Minister to the Adrestian Empire. And you are the man who follows Lady Edelgard like a lost mutt with your dirty paws dragging along the ground, never having ambitions of your own and having nothing to contribute beside a snide comment or crude observation. Know that your words are nothing to me, Hubert von Vestra, and one day when I am Prime Minister I will make sure that you are the one that will be licking my boots clean. So keep your putrid mouth shut and never talk to me in this way again.” 

W-Woah... As soon as Ferdinand said his piece, he released his grip on Hubert’s collar and took a step back, realizing the power of what he just said. He honestly was a little shocked. And judging by his expression, this also seemed to be the last thing that he expected to happen. For a moment, and just a moment, Hubert’s mouth hung open like a codfish and his eyes were blown wide. Perhaps he had gone too far. His expression was one that Ferdinand had never seen on Hubert before, and it made his stomach churn, but in a different way than it had before. It made his heart stir. And even though he tried his best to forget it, that moment plagued Ferdinand’s thoughts nearly every night since. 

But that was back when they were students in school, and while both were technically fully grown way back when, they were still just boys that were but tasting the beginnings of adulthood. Ferdinand was a man now, one that had seen the trials of a war and tasted the bitter wine of life. 

And even now after all of these things, Ferdinand still found his mind wandering to the one moment where his temper got the best of him and how it threw the Emperor's hound for a loop. At first, Ferdinand thought that the reason this image came to his thoughts so often was because of the smug satisfaction of getting an upper hand, and that was partially true. It wasn’t until about a week later when the thought of his adversary’s expression started to focus less on his victory and more on the man himself that Ferdinand started to wonder. That, and the fact that every time these visions came to him, Ferdinand’s stomach flipped and his heart seemed to dance to a song he didn’t recognize. 

Recently, however, these feelings seemed to arise again and again. The first time was when the professor found Hubert’s lost razor... Ferdinand only caught a glimpse as he passed down the hall, but as he left, Hubert seemed to play with the blade in his hand, flipping it open and closed with precision that made a chill run up Ferdinand’s spine. Deft fingers worked effortlessly as he walked down the abandoned hall and Ferdinand’s chest flurried with an emotion he couldn’t place. His thoughts envisioned a tired, freshly woken Hubert, disheveled from sleep, as he shaved. What… would a sleeping hubert look like? 

Quickly, Ferdinand pushed this thought from his mind and hurried on his way. 

 It happened again when Hubert addressed the troops of Adrestia just before the latest battle. Hubert spoke with such passionate fervor; it was earth shattering. Sure, many battles seem to feel the same, but the way Hubert pushed prose and turned a phrase, it was enough to make anyone weak at the knees. A small thrill ran its course through Ferdinand as he stood next to the other members of the Black Eagles Strike Force. How could a man so dark and shadowy shine with such light? He still felt as cold as night but shone like the full moon or the brightest star. Ferdinand ran an armored hand through his hair to quickly compose himself, but could still feel the rising pink on his cheeks. He still recalled the tremor that ran through him as Hubert looked back at his colleagues with a confident, sinister grin. 

--

Ferdinand let out a sigh as he walked through the gardens. He was already late to meeting Lorenz for their weekly tea, but he still walked at an easy pace. Usually Ferdinand abhorred tardiness,but these thoughts of Hubert have left him sleepless many nights and with his sleeplessness, Ferdinad found being late to tea not so terrible. At least this tea would work as a nice reprieve from the dark minister. Or at least that’s what he thought. 

 Ferdinand was nearly to the gazebo when through the rose bushes, he recognized a familiar vision in charcoal and cape of black velvet. That was enough to give Ferdinand a light shiver. That was new- but what could Hubert be up to out here in the garden alone? As he peered through the foliage, Ferdinand watched with determination to see the moment when Hubert turned around. And when he did, Ferdinand was unsure what he was seeing, or rather whether what he saw was real. Hubert rose to his full height and in his arms were bountiful bouquets of Hydrangeas. At first it seemed like even though Hubert was holding the flowers, that he held no interest for them, but then he looked down at the blooms in his arms with a soft fondness before one was brought up to his nose to sniff the flower's aroma. The moment was brief, but the tenderness of the gesture was enough to make Ferdinand’s heart jump into his throat and he felt almost as if he was watching a private moment that he knew he shouldn’t be seeing. Ferdinand pulled himself away from his place behind the bushes and swiftly fled to the teatime he was now very late for. With him, he carried a new feeling in his heart: Pure, unadulterated panic. 

---

“Why is it that every time the Day of Devotion rolls around, you and I seem to be the ones that are left holding a bag. Ferdinand?” Lorenz Hellman Goucester flipped his lavender hair over his shoulder for what felt like the 15th time this afternoon. “I personally think it’s because all of the others are too afraid to approach me. I am no doubt handsome and have good lineage; I consider myself a catch. Do you agree, Ferdinand?” 

As Lorenz prattled on, Ferdinand couldn’t help but stare out at the garden before him, his mind wandering to the thought of Hubert von Vestra of all people holding such beautiful blooms. Where did he head off with them? Were they for Edelgard? Though he never thought Hubert saw Edelgard in this way, the thoughts of Hubert bringing flowers to someone he fancied caused something to build in his chest. Come to think of it, receiving flowers would be such a wonderful gesture, When was the last time that Ferdinand had received flowers? What kind would he want to receive? While red roses were customary, there was something about white roses that always seemed to captivate Ferdinand’s attention. These thoughts went one until the dull pressure in Ferdinand’s chest needed to be released with a longing sigh. 

“Ferdinand? Did you hear me? You think I am a catch, right?” Lorenz burst the bubble of Ferdinand’s fantasy with a loud pop. 

“What? Oh- Yes! You are definitely wonderful, Lorenz. I just think it is hard for people to find love in the middle of a war, and once all of this unpleasantness is over, things such as courting will probably be much easier.” 

Lorenz let out a scoff. “Alright, Ferdinand. Enough secrets. Who is it?”

“W-What?!” Ferdinand jumped, nearly knocking over his tea in the process. 

“Who is it that you are so smitten with? Usually you are much more... Attentive during our weekly tea.”

“Well...” Ferdinand puffed out his chest and flipped his hair over his shoulder Lorenz-style in order to feign confidence. “I assure you that I am not smitten with anyone.” 

Lorenz does not seem persuaded as he took a teaspoon to stir another sugar cube into his tea. “Sure, Ferdinand. There is no one. And that is why you’ve been staring at that rose bush behind me for the last thirty minutes and sighing like a heroine in love all afternoon?” Ferdinand choked and sputtered on his tea. Drats. “So tell me now, Ferdie, darling, before I start to make assumptions.”

“Oh, Lorenz! I don’t know what I can do about this!” Ferdinand whined into his third cup of Southern Fruit Blend of the afternoon. “Lately everytime I see Hubert I am overcome with a-a wave of feelings that muddies my common sense! I fear that soon I will do something I regret.” Lorenz’s eyes widened before dropping so low they almost fell into his tea.

“Wait... Did you say... Hubert? As in... Hubert von Vestra? The man you called a mongrel and promised would lick your boots? The man who-- ” 

“Yes Lorenz! That Hubert von Vestra! Now Please be serious!” Ferdinand hurriedly stopped his friend in his speech with a hushed voice. His face was now deep crimson in embarrassment. Lorenz only seemed to look more disappointed as he took another sip of tea.  

 “Flames, Ferdie, you sure have some taste..” 

“I.. I really can’t help it Lorenz. At first it was just small flutters when I caught him doing something suave or gentle, but now even the thought of him seems to make my heart leap. Sakes, I don’t even know if he would be interested in… someone like me. And I truly do not wish to ruin what little of the working relationship we have now with unnecessary feelings…” Ferdiand couldn’t help but sigh for what felt like the 16th time that afternoon. Lorenz, however, seemed unphased. 

“Oh Ferdinand. This conundrum has a clear and easy answer.” Lorenz replied smoothly. Ferdinand’s face couldn’t help but perk up. 

“Oh Really? What is it, Lorenz? I am willing to try anything.”

“Well, my personal opinion is to just swallow your pride and try to ask the creepy shadow minister out on a date,” That was not what Ferdinand wanted to hear, “but looking at the way you are glaring at me right now, my second idea is that you should take all these feelings and write a poem.” 

“A… Poem, Lorenz?” Ferdinand knew how much his comrade loved poetry, but he was skeptical. 

“Yes, Ferdinand. A poem. It will be a good way to get your feelings out of your system and onto a piece of paper. It is very therapeutic.” 

“But what do I do with it? Once it’s finished?” 

“Well...” Lorenz paused, picking up another linzer tart. How many has he had now? Six? Seven? “You can do two things. You can either: Give it to him and take a risk for once, OR, if you’re too much of a coward, you can seal the thing away, never give it to him and leave yourself wondering what could’ve been….” Lorenz accentuated his point with a dramatic pose, throwing his head back and placing a fainting hand on his forehead. 

“Alright. Alright. You have been reading too many dramatic romance novels, sir.” Ferdinand reached over and took Lorenz’s teacup and plate of pastries and moved it closer to the center of the table in an attempt to prevent a spill with all of these dramatic movements. “ But-- I will take your advice and try to write a poem. If it can help even in the smallest parameter, I will try.”

“Well I never-- “ That’s a lie. He certainly has. “And I’ll have you know Lady’s Tales of Romantic Intrigue are works of art! And you have read them too, so do not refute me. And as for the poem… Next week, bring it with you. It will be the Day of Devotion after all. It might prove.. Interesting …”

-----------------

Writing poetry was much harder than it looked. Ferdinand had already spent several days staring at a piece of parchment with a quill in his hand before he came to this realization.  He knew the basic idea of what he wanted to write- but whenever the tip of the pen touched his parchment, the words refused to come forward. And at this point, Ferdinand was desperate to relieve some pressure from the pounding thoughts in his head. Today, in the library, he watched Hubert scold Linhardt for sleeping in a strategy meeting with that… voice of his, and Ferdinand nearly split a thesaurus with his bare hands. 

Ferdinand tapped his pen to the parchment and again no words came. Just a spot of ink on the paper. This was starting to become frustrating. So he pulled a spare piece of paper out from his desk drawer and started to scribe words down onto paper, words that just reminded him of the shadow that wrapped its way wound his heart. 

Wait... that was it!

Suddenly, the ink hit paper once more and this time with it came words that rolled out like raindrops on satin. Ferdinand felt his heart crack open as his words and feelings bled out onto the page, and the release of pressure was heavenly. He felt as though he was writing all of the words that he couldn’t bare to voice aloud, feelings that he had not even realized that he was experiencing until they poured from the tip of his pen.

Ferdinand wrote and rewrote until his writing hand grew weak and cramped. He was unsure of how much time had passed. It could have been an hour. It could have been several. All he knew was that the sun that was once high in the sky had set and turned the sky a captivating crimson by the time he was finished.

-----

Life and Death, Sun and Stars, 

Two things that could not seem more apart

One is Darkness, one is light

But what to do when Day craves Night?

With eyes like daggers and a glare like ice

How could I have ever despised?

We spent years of our youth fighting 

But now I find myself reciting.

Verse after verse of words like hymns in choir

Only to voice my yearning desire.

Is hiding my love what’s best for the Adrestian Nation?

Oh Hubert von Vestra you are my greatest vexation

Ferdinand read over his poem for what felt like the 200th time that morning. Looking down at his work on the desk, Ferdinand suddenly became unsure if what he wrote actually would be considered a poem at all. Honestly, most of it seemed like a stream of words hastily thrown on paper than one of the magnificent sonnets he had read in the library. 

Whatever it was, it did make Ferdinand feel a lot better about his pent up feelings. But of course he was not a proper connoisseur of poetry in the slightest. Thankfully, the blossoming writer was about to venture out to the gardens and meet with his perfect audience for tea. Lorenz would be a better tell of what is and is not proper poetry. 

Ferdinand swiftly gathered his poem up, placed it inside an envelope to conceal his shame, and then pressed the envelope with a wax seal emblazoned with the von Aegir family crest of Cichol. The small golden seal was one of the few baubles that he was allowed to keep for his own after his family’s estate was seized, and Ferdinand only used it for documents of importance. Documents like, letters to valuable dignitaries and, apparently, secret poems to the man of his affections that he will never see. But just as the wax finished drying, there was a rapping at Ferdinand’s door. 

“Ferdinand. You are late with your reports on the siege of Gaspard. I have come to retrieve them.” 

It was Hubert. Oh. Shit. 

Quickly, Ferdinand scrambled to hide the sealed poem under a pile of papers as the doorknob to his office turned with a click and Hubert entered. And then there he was, the man Ferdinand had spent the past weeks avoiding with all of his ability and was yearning for with all of his heart. Ferdinand jolted up to his feet. His heart skipped as his eyes met ones of green tourmaline that gave their usual bemused glare. How it that such eyes, even full of displeasure, could hold such a beautiful shine. Ferdinand’s eyes then dropped, almost against his will, down to Huberts lips. They were so pale but had the subtlest pink hues. They were probably dry. They were probably cold. They were probably so… soft...

“Ferdinand. The reports.” Hubert dragged Ferdinand from his thoughts with an awkward cough. Oh Flames how long had he been staring?!

“O-Oh yes! Of course! Just a moment!” Ferdinand quickly scrambled over his desk, grabbing the papers strewn across his desk with the grace of a drunken goose. Oh this was going swimmingly. With a few more moments of sophisticated shuffling, Ferdinand was able to successfully accumulate the entirety of the report and pull it into a nice pile. “Here it is. I hope you’ll find everything is in order.”

“Ah yes. The feeling is mutual.” Hubert affirmed in his usual way as he took the papers into his hands. In the passing of papers, hands briefly touched, and Ferdinand could swear he could sense a small spark. Though maybe it was in his imagination, he could almost swear he saw Hubert flinch in kind. “I shall let you know if anything is amiss.” Was all he said before turning and shutting the door behind him. 

With the click of the door, the room became quiet once more, but now the silence was deafening. With an interaction of a minute, maybe two, it seemed that all of the composure Ferdinand had gained the night before from writing seemed to have flown out the window the moment their eyes met. His head was spinning. Oh how could he be such a lovesick fool. Just because a beautiful pair of eyes look his way, he needs to become a babbling buffoon! Ugh 

Ferdinand sighed. This would have to be something that he worked out later, after tea that is- he needed to calm his nerves. He walked back to his desk to retrieve his cursed poem. Lorenz would want to see it. But as Ferdinand searched his desks contents, the sealed envelope was not in its hiding spot. 

Where could it be? Ferdinand thought to himself. I placed it right here in this pile under the…. His blood quickly ran cold and a flash of fire burned through him. .. Under the battle reports…

Shit. 

----

“You did WHAT ?” Lorenz all but gasped as he nearly dropped his rose covered teacup. 

“I.. I think I may have, in a bout of clumsiness….slipped my poem into.. My battle reports..” Ferdinand felt like he could be positively ill. His chest was on aflame with panic and he could not hold his tea without watching it spill from the cups brim in his shaky hands. He had just unknowingly professed his love to Minister Hubert von Vestra , the right hand to the emperor, and possibly the greatest assassin in the Adrestian Empire. The man was stone cold, a killer. This thought sent a shiver of Ferdinand’s spine, and he was unsure if it was out of fear or… something else. Either way, the thought was exhausting. “Dear Goddess, Lorenz. What am I to do now?”

“Honestly Ferdie, this is the drama that you can only find in romance novels, and it's very intriguing” Lorenz gave his friend a sly grin as he stirred his tea, but upon seeing how distraught his friend was, his grin quickly faded. “Well… There isn’t much you could do now… He either finds the parcel and he lets you know it.. Or.. he doesn’t.. It is as simple as that.” Ferdinand let out another sigh. He seemed to be doing that a lot in the last hour or so. Of course there was no way to fix this problem. “Would you like to know what I think? I think this is a sign that you were meant to give that poem. There are only good things from here, my friend.” 

Ferdinand knew his friend said these things to One can only hope that Lorenz’s words would reign true, but only time will tell. And that time was later that evening at around dinner when a missive came to Ferdinand’s door carrying a small missive, sealed with the crest of House Vestra in black wax. 

Ferdinand- 

Meet me in my office in 20 minutes, precisely. We must discuss your paperwork submitted earlier today.

-HvV

Ferdinand read and reread the note, his skin growing hotter and hotter with every reading. Panic rose inside him, swelling like waves in a stormy sea and Ferdinad felt like a ship being rocked, in danger of sinking. Drowning. What does he do? He knew his answer before he even finished asking.

It was time Ferdinand von Aegir faced the music

-----

Somehow, Ferdinand found himself in front of the dark mahogany door that belonged to the office of Hubert von Vestra. The storm inside of his heart had not calmed in the slightest. In fact, it was much worse. Ferdinand took a deep breath, raised his hand into a fist, and rapped against the chamber door. 

The door opened not a few moments later, greeted by the raven himself, Hubert von Vestra, and of course he was still as handsome as he was earlier that day. Well, of course he was, but it was still distracting. Hubert looked down at Ferdinand with a sinister grin. 

“Ah, Ferdinand. You are right on time. Please come in and do make yourself comfortable.” Hubert said coolly as he ushered Ferdinand inside. The office was modest, decorated only with a desk with matching chair, dresser, and armoire; all of which seemed to be carved from a dark mahogany wood like the door outside. The room was dark, simple, but so very much screamed Hubert . Ferdinand swallowed the fear in his throat and took a seat in front of the desk as Hubert made his way across the room to open his armoire. 

“Ferdinand... do you know why I summoned you to my office this evening?” Hubert asked as he reached inside of the armoire. He was working with something, but Ferdinand couldn’t quite see what it was. Oh dear Goddess… was it his interrogation tools? Was he so displeased with the poem that Hubert planned on eliminating him? 

“Yes... “ Ferdinand could feel the sweat forming on the back of his neck under his locks of amber hair. “You summoned me here... because I accidentally included my poem amongst today's battle report.” 

“Aha… Yes… wait... Did you say ‘accidentally?’” With a pop, Hubert turned to face Ferdinand with something in his arms. Ferdinand flinched at the sound, fearing that it would be the last one he would ever hear, but when he opened his eyes, he saw exactly what Hubert held. In his arms, Hubert held a bottle of emerald tinted glass and two drinking goblets. 

“Wait… Is that wine?” Ferdinand looked up at the bottle perplexed, and it seemed Hubert did not know how to respond. For a moment, the two men stood in silence looking at each other, unable to continue. 

Well this was awkward. 

“…Uh… Yes. This is... Wine. Would you care for some?” 

“I… Oh goddess, yes. I fear we both need a drink.” Hubert placed the two goblets down onto the desk and filled them both with great care. Ferdinand reached out and took a sip from his glass. The wine was red, dry and bitter, but after the day he had, the wine went down like the sweetest milk.  

“So...” Hubert paused as he sat behind his desk and reached for his glass. “Did you really send me your poem in folley?”  Even though he was asking, Ferdinand was still unsure of the dark ministers intentions. Was he happy? Or disappointed? He could lie and say that the poem was some kind of practical joke, a farce. But in that moment, Ferdinand thought back to what Lorenz had said at tea, that this may be his only chance. He decided to put his heart on the line for the first time in years. 

“Yes. It was a mistake to send you the poem. But,” He took one last deep breath and looked into his lap where his hands were balled into fists. “All of it... Was true. What I wrote in that envelope is how I feel, every word. I find myself thinking of you more and more with each passing day. And even though I know that I should be thinking of what is best for the kingdom, I still selfishly think of myself and what could be. This poem was meant to be a way that I could ease the pressure on my heart so that I could focus on what is important. And, if it is what you wish, we can pretend that this exchange never happened. I just need to be honest.”

There was a beat of silence and for that moment, Ferdinand found himself unable to face the man before him. But he quickly swallowed his pride and tilted his head up as he heard the sound of the chair behind the desk push backwards. By the time he was able to look at the minister, Hubert had already stood up and had his back turned away again, hands still. It seemed clear what his answer would be.

Ferdinand slowly rose to leave, but before he could turn to go, Hubert finally spoke.

“The moon only glows when kissed by the sun.

But how could I ever glow without the one 

Who pushes me further, Makes me even more.”

Hubert turned around to face the Prime Minister once more, holding the torn open envelope in his hands and slowly walked around the desk as he recited his verse. His eyes glowed with another emotion Ferdinand had never seen on Hubert before, and it was one that he couldn’t really place. But what he did know was that this emotion seemed to fill Ferdinand with something wonderful.  

“You are Ferdinand von Aegir. The man.. I adore.” Hubert placed the envelope on the desk behind him, reached out and took Ferdinand’s gloved hands in his own. The contact even between gloved hands was electrifying. And still Hubert still moved closer, one of his hands leaving Ferdinands grasp only to appear again under his chin to tilt Ferdinand’s chin up to meet Huberts lips with his own. The kiss was deep, as if years of emotion flowed between them without the need of words, and as Ferdinand had guessed it was indeed soft .

Of all of the possible outcomes, Ferdinand had not expected this. It was at that moment that Ferdinand realized that today was the holiday Lorenz had been complaining about the week before: The Day of Devotion. 

Maybe this really was a magical day for lovers. 

-----

“So Ferdinand… What ever happened with the Hubert poem?” Lorenz plucked a teacake from the tiered serving tray in the garden. “Something had to have happened, so don’t deny it.” 

Ferdinand lowered his teacup and let out an embarrassed chuckle, his cheeks dusted with pink. “Ah yes… ahem… Well. He found the poem, we had a long discussion, and as it turned out, he had felt the same way. So it seems that we are now courting. Well, as much courting as one can in times of war, but please Lorenz, do not tell anyone of this development just yet. We want to spread the news at our own pace. Can I trust you to keep a secret?” 

“Me? Why Ferdie don’t be obtuse! Of course I will keep your secrets for you. After all, what are friends for?” Lorenz smiled as he slowly took a sip from his teacup and placed it back on his saucer, not once breaking eye contact with his dear friend. There was a glint of mischief in his eyes.  “So Ferdinand… You and Hubert talked? And did you two just talk?” 

“Yes, Lorenz.We just talked.” Ferdinand couldn’t help but laugh. “What kind of noble do you take me for?”

“Well… I don’t know, Ferdie...”, Lorenz grinned. “What kind of noble comes to tea covered in love bites and hickeys along his neck?” 

Ferdinand slowly brought his hand up to his neck and felt the sting of soreness under the pressure of his fingertips. There was no doubt there was a mark if not several. 

Well, shit .