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It was common knowledge not to mess with Huberts property.
Mostly common knowledge.
However, one person always felt exempt from that particular rule.
It was always Claude who would worm his way past Huberts barriers, causing mischief and forcing him to clean up after the prankster.
Even though he’d “voiced” his concerns to Claude, the pranks never ended, no matter how much he’d threaten him.
So, like everyone else, he’d learn just to live with it, quietly plotting Claude's death and writing out how he’d make him suffer.
Though in play, he’d never act on it, unless his lady asked him too.
Or so he’d quietly assumed.
It wasn’t until Hubert caught wind that both Ferdinand and Lorenz had been poisoned, though nothing serious, forcing the two nobles away from their student tasks.
And, it’s not as though Hubert really cared.
He didn’t care for the way Ferdinand had curled in on himself, paler than the snow threatening to cover Garreg Mach.
Absolutely didn’t care for the way the redheaded noble would reach his sweaty hands out, grasping Huberts gloved hand tight.
He loathed the way Ferdinand would apologize after retching, apologizing profusely for being so disgusting.
He loathed it, yet he couldn’t tear himself away from his side.
He found himself seated next to Ferdinands bed, swearing up and down that he was not worried, merely upset that an asset to the imperial princess had fallen so deeply ill.
Hubert had also swore that it had been Edelgard who had asked him to keep watch over Ferdinand, when the redhead had asked why he insisted on staying with him.
Though they both knew that was a lie.
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“You’re absolutely repulsive in this state.” Wringing out Ferdinands wash cloth, the mage dipped it back into the cold water, reapplying it with ease to the future prime minister’s head.
Ferdinand only laughed, grabbing Huberts magic scarred hands.
“Yet you have not left my side, I wonder why that is.”
If it hadn’t been for Lorenz so close by, Hubert would’ve strangled the man beneath him, a low embarrassed blush spreading across his cheeks.
“I’m simply standing in for both her majesty and Manuela. Both of them have their hands full.” As if on cue, the exhausted healer stepped in, a scowl laid thick on her face, hands full with the rather tall and grossly large, clean chamber pot.
The healer huffed, letting the heavy pot clatter to the floor, startling Lorenz mostly from his dozing, Ferdinand holding a hand to his mouth as he chuckled.
“I’m assuming you’ve become my full time healer?”
The dark mage grit his teeth, using his free hand to push back his bangs.
“Unfortunately, though you know I lack heavily in that area magically wise.”
“I’ve seen as much. Maybe it’d do you well to take extracurricular classes with Linhardt. I’m sure he’d be willing to help you study.” Chuckling to himself, Ferdinand shifted, a low groan cutting his laugh off, hands kneading uncomfortably against his stomach.
“Goddess, I feel like hell washed over.” The noblemen rolled to his side, letting his eyelids flutter shut, groaning as he wriggled uncomfortably against the bedding.
Hubert simply bit his tongue, holding himself from retorting.
A few months ago, nasty remarks towards the young noblemen would’ve been rolling off his tongue with ease, telling him that he absolutely deserved what was coming to him.
However, in the time since, he’s learned to at least tolerate the nuisance.
Though the idea of quipping him while he was so miserable did linger longer than it should.
Pulling Hubert from his thoughts, Ferdinand had sat up much too quickly for someone so ill, hands clasped tightly around his mouth.
Before the mage could process what was happening, the young nobleman had scrambled out of bed, rushing towards the shared chamber pot, the few contents from his stomach emptying.
Clambering to his own feet, Hubert quickly strode over, masking any concern towards the other as he reached back to pull his greasy locks from his face.
As he suspected, nothing much came up, a watery bile pooling at the base.
From behind, Hubert could hear Manuela sigh.
“At Least be grateful someone else is here to help.” He thought bitterly, kneeling to rub Ferdinands back, only to hear the younger sputter once more, retching.
“ Goddess, if it weren’t for Her Highness, I would’ve strung Claude atop the chapel for the whole monastery to see.” Clearing his throat, he allowed himself to focus on the prime minister's back, rubbing small circles across his tense back.
Ferdinand coughed, knuckles pale as he gripped the pot.
“Are you finished?” A low sound echoed into the pot beneath them.
Removing his hands, Hubert was so lovingly rewarded with another round of retching, holding his own tongue bitterly.
“I’d make a scene of Von Rigean to send a message to everyone.” Thoughts continued bubbling as he resumed his prior task, scoffing every so often Ferdinand found himself stalled, making light jabs over how much Hubert must care for him.
“Must we go through this again? I’ve made it clear that I’m here on behalf of both Linhardt and Lady Edelgard. If I had my drethers, I wouldn’t be here.” Though there was a part of him that did wish to be by Ferdinands side. A darker, jealous side that refused to allow any others near him, no matter the cause.
Those emotions also could simply be chalked to him simply worrying over the potential loss of a future, important asset.
“I think, somewhere deep down in that stone cold heart of yours, you care.”
Hubert hadn’t registered anything at first, watching as the younger man beneath him rested his head on the smooth brim of the chamber pot, sweaty locks sticking grossly against his sweat slicked skin.
Eyelids fluttering, he sighed.
“You can use any excuse to dismiss me, but we both know that there’s a reason you’re here.”
Hubert snorted, removing his palms from Ferdinands back, refusing to give him an answer.
He’d neither confirm, nor debunk anything Von Aegir asked him.
“You’re sick.” Hubert huffed, as though it might drive his point further home.
“Your mind is simply playing tricks on you.” He settled for a decently healthy middle.
“Whatever you think is happening, you’re wrong. I wish not repeat myself for a third time, but if you're this thick headed, I may have to.” Adjusting his form, Hubert drew his hands back, letting them fall to his sides.
“Now, have you gotten everything from your system out? If so, you’d do well with bed rest.”
Side-eyeing the bed, Hubert had noticed the mess they’d both made, scrambling for the pot.
Manuelas earlier sigh may have been from the sheets strewn to the floor or the fact Hubert had accidentally knocked the bowl of cold water to the floor, though he had no mind to it actually happening.
He must’ve bumped the table rushing to Ferdinands side.
“I should be alright.” Wincing, he opened his eyes, standing on feeble legs.
He stumbled back into his bed, covers pulled back up to his chest, Hubert all the while busying himself with cleaning the mess of water below and refilling the basin with cold water once more.
Sitting down once everything was accomplished, he picked up the forgotten rag, rinsing it in the frigid water before applying it gently to Von Aegir's reddened forehead.
“Hubert, may I ask something rather selfish of you.” It was rare to see Ferdinand pull a rather serious tone.
“If you must.”
With confirmation, he smiled softly, reaching for the mages hand.
“Might you stay a little while longer by my side?”
Of all the questions Ferdinand could’ve asked, Hubert had not anticipated something of that caliber.
Brain slowly processing his words, he sputtered lightly;
“I..” damn it all.
“I.. suppose, if it’d help ease you into rest easier.” Little grit laced his words, unfamiliar sincerity instead taking over.
Ferdinand smiled gently, squeezing the older mans hand, adjusting himself against the pillows in search of a comfortable spot.
“Thank you.”