Work Text:
The sound of a tome falling to the floor made Hubert jolt awake with a start.
It took him a few moments to gather his bearings. He stared down at the desk he must have fallen asleep at, papers crumpled and covered with ink due to his unfortunate sleeping position. He looked down at the tome and assumed he must have knocked it over in his sleep, and placed it back onto the table.
All of this was done in a rather calm matter until he eventually regained enough sense to look at the window to see what time it was.
The bright, shining rays of the midday sun met his eyes, forcing him to shield them. He could also hear the busy noise of the Enbarr palace gardens, and discerned by the distant sounds of chatter that it was most likely lunchtime.
Oh no.
He quickly scrambled through the pages of the few reports he had managed to finish writing last night, stuffed them into a briefcase and hurried out of the door. His mind echoed the voices of Ferdinand and Lady Edelgard, telling him time and time again that he should get more sleep.
Unfortunately, this was not the first time such an occurrence had taken place. One time, he had fallen asleep at a desk but come morning found himself in bed, an experience he only previously remembered having once or twice as a child (he later found out that Ferdinand had come across him and carried him back to their shared bedroom).
Another, not as pleasant time was when he awoke to find Linhardt napping on the floor next to him, apparently coming across Hubert but instead of waking him, decided that taking a nap was quite a good idea (although after the lecture Lady Edelgard gave both of them after that, he doubted that it was an experience likely to be repeated anytime soon)
Finally, he reached his destination. He gave the hooded assassin the briefcase of documents and murmured some instructions, dropping a few gold coins into their waiting hand as he spoke (he was grateful that the coins had survived his untimely nap, as he had forgotten to check for them in his rush to get out the door). They nodded in answer before turning and walking away, leaving him to finally think clearly for the first time that day.
He still had several documents left to finish up in his room (and in some cases completely redo due to the spilt ink), but he could already hear Ferdinand chastising him for only focusing on work and not taking any breaks.
Oh. Ferdinand.
The realisation hit all at once. He hadn’t gone back to their rooms last night, and he hadn’t mentioned that he would be disappearing for a few days in order to gather intel either. In other words, he had vanished with no explanation.
He sighed, deciding instantly to push away the imaginings of Ferdinand shouting his name throughout the palace, looking for him frantically. Instead, he thought about where Ferdinand would be in order for him to apologise and explain the situation.
----
His nerves started to act up by the time he neared the palace stables, almost certain that Ferdinand would be here at this time of day. What would he do once he saw Hubert? Shout at him? Slap him? Lecture him about making time for sleep? (To be honest, he did deserve all three).
However, by the time he reached the stables he was forced to freeze because for a moment he would have *sworn* that a deity themselves had come down from the heavens. The most beautiful singing voice he had ever heard filled his heart with its melody.
Hubert crouched behind a haystack, and lifted his head slightly to meet the owner of this voice. Of course, that owner was none other than Ferdinand von Aegir himself, happily singing while brushing the mane of one of the horses. Any intention he had of approaching the man and apologising for last night vanished, instead replaced with a fear of doing anything that may cause Ferdinand to stop singing.
He found himself entranced, listening to the song. It was one that he had heard before, once upon a time.
It had been the only opera that Hubert had gotten to see as a child, before Lady Edelgard was taken to Fhirdiad. He remembered the plot being something really cliché – a retelling of the war between Nemesis and Serios. But the way Manuela had brought the songs to life had captured the imagination he had as a child, as if he was right there in the play itself.
The way Ferdinand brought this song to life was much the same – in fact, he would argue that Ferdinand’s voice beat Manuela’s by a mile.
He peeked over the haystack again to gaze at Ferdinand. Despite having been courting him for a little over a year, he never bore of watching him. The smile on his face as he groomed the horse had Hubert hypnotised. The way he made each syllable and octave sound was nothing short of perfection. If Hubert believed in gods, then he would be certain that the sunshine incarnate before him was the greatest of them all.
Of course, he had heard Ferdinand sing before – at the academy. Back then Hubert had made it his mission to make every single noise Ferdinand made a reason to make a snide comment, which would then turn into a full-blown argument. He remembered scoffing when the noble had stated that his voice would make a Pegasus dance with joy.
Oh, how foolish he had been.
He was so entranced in the song that he didn’t notice that Ferdinand had finished brushing the horse, and didn’t even notice when he began walking towards the place where Hubert was hiding until it was too late.
It was only when Ferdinand’s shadow was cast over him when he finally snapped out of it, the sudden realisation making him jolt for the second time that day.
Sensing movement, Ferdinand stopped singing (Hubert had never wanted the ability to turn back time more than at this moment right now) and turned around, only to jump back and yelp at the sight of Hubert crouched there.
“A-Aah! Hubert!?” He exclaimed, eyes wide with shock.
Hubert opened his mouth to speak, willing words to somehow form sentences, but what was *meant* to come out as ‘I can explain’ or ‘I’m sorry’ somehow translated its way into “you sing beautifully”.
Ferdinand’s face turned a deeper shade of red. “W-well thank you. But why were you hiding there? In fact, where have you been? You did not come to bed last night and I was going out of my mind with worry!”
It was Hubert’s turn to turn red from embarrassment now.
“I fear that you will laugh at me” he replied, his voice barely coming out as more than a whisper. He directed his eyes to the ground in front of him, cheeks threatening to burn his face off.
Ferdinand crouched down to meet him. “I would never laugh at you, Hubert. You should know more than anyone that I am not the boy I once was”.
Hubert sighed. “I fell asleep at a desk again”.
He watched as golden eyes stared at him for a moment. “…Is that all?” Ferdinand questioned, a warm smile forming on his face.
His cheeks turned redder. “Yes. That was why I did not return last night. I was worried about telling you and I heard your voice so I, well…” He drifted off and gestured vaguely to the haystack. “Your voice is magnificent. I think you could challenge Dorothea to a duel, and easily win”.
Ferdinand’s own blush returned. “W-well, I do not think my voice is *that* good, but I am pleased that you enjoy it so much”. He stood up, and gestured for Hubert to do the same. “Still, I hope you have taken today as a lesson to leave time to sleep. You work too much, take a rest every once in a while.” He held a hand out, so Hubert took it gently. The lack of gloves on Ferdinand meant that the warmth was much more prominent, and contrasted greatly to his own cold, disfigured hands still hidden by gloves.
Hubert snorted. “Even if I disagree, you will still make it your mission to ensure that I take enough breaks until you are satisfied.”
The golden sun next to him laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “Of course. I cannot have you keep passing out like this! Perhaps it would motivate you to take breaks more if I offered to sing to you in my free time”.
In turn, Hubert kissed Ferdinand on the cheek and gave a small chuckle.
“Perhaps it would.”