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Hubert’s holiday season began with plucking mistletoe off a tree.
There were worse things, of course, than tending to plants. Worse things, indeed, than a marriage to a star actress. Hubert was, no doubt, the envy of every man and a fair few women the continent over. However, in his eyes, the mistletoe was only a warning of what was to come. Saint Cichol’s Day was only three weeks out, now, and everyone was fully prepared to enter holiday settings. It made him inclined to post some sort of… blasphemous pamphlet, even if he recognized that Edelgard’s public image was of utmost import. His old friend had been steadily gathering a support base for her political aims, of which Dorothea Arnault - and Hubert’s marriage to her - was an integral part. He liked Dorothea well enough, himself. She was ambitious, ruthless at times, devoted to Lady Edelgard and kind to those she could have otherwise dismissed. So, of course, it was in his interest on behalf of both of them to play the role of the devoted husband while facilitating their conspiratorial collaboration. He did not dare presume that he would come to love her, nor - folly above folly - she him. But he would serve her diligently and make her happy.
After the festive floral parasites had been sufficiently massacred, Hubert set out to gather groceries, hoping to beat the charity drives. It was not that he opposed the core mission; he simply had no interest in being lectured regarding facts he was well aware of, or - worse - having someone seek to tug at his heartstrings with inane religious prattle about justice and the Saints. He was successful, mostly - he was able to enter the grocery and gather his items unbothered. However, as he attempted to reach his car, he was accosted by a very loud, very orange figure. He was from the south, clearly - he was bundled so thick his movement was almost comical. His coat was more expensive than some small homes, which gave Hubert immediate ammunition as the offensive figure spoke.
“Sir! Might I trouble you for a conversation?”
“You already have, so I suppose I cannot stop you. Say your piece.” The joy in his voice, spoken without an ounce of a sense of the irony of an obviously wealthy southerner seeking gifts to help the poor through the harsh winter, made Hubert all too eager to puncture the inflated confidence he carried.
“Excellent!” Unperturbed by Hubert’s tone, the man continued. “I am here to collect on behalf of the Silver Sword. We aspire to fill every shelter in Fhirdiad with blankets and canned goods aplenty - the recent blizzards have cut power to many homes, after all, and I need not mention the innocent people on the streets. Could an affluent gentleman such as yourself spare a few bullion for the affected?” The Silver Sword, was it? There was something there.
“Have you, perhaps, heard that the Silver Sword has an… unfortunate habit of finding excuses to exempt those outside Fodlander descent from their shelters? Strange…” Unlike the majority of Silver Sword operatives, the man seemed ashamed rather than angry - for just a moment before his unnecessarily bright grin returned.
“Some of the shelters we are directing our money to are owned by local charity groups; if you object to the Silver Sword itself, I can ascertain that one hundred percent of your donation goes to another organization!” Hubert was dumbfounded for a moment but his incredulity quickly faded to scorn.
“You must think me an idiot indeed. How could you possibly make certain of such a thing?”
“You would have my word! The word of-” He was interrupted by a passing car honking at the rather large truck in front of it, which had been stopped for almost a minute.
“If you expect me to take the word of a pompous, overdressed street collector-” The man interrupted Hubert.
“Sir, you have gravely misjudged me! I did not take you for one who would put such stock in mere threads of clothing, but-”
“You misjudge me. It is not your overbearing plumage itself which I find repulsive; rather, it is the disdain for all monetary prudence-”
“You presume very wrong, sir. To dress well is the height of-”
“If it is so profoundly easy for you, then perhaps you ought to donate some of your own money.” At this the man paused, and Hubert was ready to gloat, but…
“I have. As much as my family can spare without questioning my expenditures. And I am certain you, as well, can spare change. Sir. But this is no benefit to either of us; donate or do not, but I am finished arguing.” Hubert almost turned and left, and he almost threw a last jibe.
Instead, he found himself pulling out a few bills. Dorothea would never judge him for anything intended to help the poor, after all.
“May you use it well,” he said dryly, marching off before he could even hear the man’s unnecessarily florid declarations of gratitude.
---
Hubert continued his holiday preparations, decorating according to Dorothea’s preferences, for the next few days. His relatively peaceful period was interrupted, however, when Edelgard sent him a summons. He was quick to obey, of course, heading to her offices without question.
Nothing could have prepared him for what he found there. Based on a cursory assessment of the man’s expression, he felt similarly.
“Hubert, may I introduce you to Ferdinand von Aegir? Ferdinand, this is Hubert, my oldest friend and attendant.” Edelgard was impeccably formal, and Hubert forced himself to incline his head politely.
“...charmed.”
“Hubert, Ferdinand and I have been in discussion for some time. He’s part of an old family, as you can see, and he wants to throw his support behind our cause. I hoped you might show him around the city while he’s on his downtime.” So. His role was to be a babysitter. He didn’t necessarily have anything better to do so he couldn’t… reject the offer. Ferdinand seemed inordinately enthused about the idea, despite the fact that he had recognized Hubert. This… would not be pleasant.
“Of course, Lady Edelgard.” She smiled, then nodded to him in dismissal.
“Our discussions for today are finished. Would you escort him somewhere?” And so, Hubert was forced to escort Ferdinand into town. It was a fairly hands-off task, given Ferdinand was eager to see almost everything.
“Have you not been here for a few days already? Why have you not explored yet?” Ferdinand laughed, as though Hubert had said something funny.
“How fun would it be to explore alone? I am curious to see what you have to share about the sights!” Hubert couldn’t tell whether he was being sarcastic or not. He was growing disturbingly suspicious it was the latter. So, he led Ferdinand through the various historic locations, the specialty stores and entertainment venues, hoping Edelgard would send him news about Ferdinand’s departure. Unfortunately, no such luck. As the sun began to set, Hubert turned them around.
“We ought to be finished for today. If anything stood out to you, I… suppose we could investigate it when next we’re free.” Hubert turned to where Ferdinand had been walking next to him only to find him gone. A cursory investigation coupled with a muttered curse led him to a cafe just behind them. Ferdinand waved with frustrating cheer to Hubert as he entered.
“Hubert! I worried you may have left me! Would you like cider?” Hubert kept his surprise at the offer from showing in his expression - with effort - and shook his head.
“Coffee, if anything. Black.” Ferdinand raised an eyebrow - the first negative reaction Hubert had earned today - but he turned to the cashier and shrugged.
“I suppose I will add a black coffee.” Hubert tried to pick out his potential motive as they waited, and once they left, he found himself without any other options.
“Tell me, what possessed you to… buy me a drink?” Ferdinand seemed a little perplexed by the question.
“You have been showing me your fine city all day! Is it not entirely in order to do you a favor as thanks?” Ah, of course. A repaid debt, he was surprised he hadn’t thought of that.
“Well. You have been… unsettlingly reasonable today, and in light of that, I must… apologize for our argument a few days ago.” Ferdinand grinned at that.
“I had not expected an apology, but I motion we put that… unfortunate business behind us. I had hoped we could become friends!” Hubert, with a little surprise, found himself… unalarmed by that concept. Even rather pleased.
“Perhaps we could,” he allowed, turning to hide a small smile of his own. When they parted for the evening he found himself, shockingly, looking forward to his next opportunity to entertain their guest.
---
After a few days of following up Ferdinand’s discussions with Edelgard with activities around town, Hubert was irritated to see snow beginning to fall. Ferdinand, of course, was delighted.
“Snow! Hubert, I have never seen snow!” Ah, of course. The Pearl Sea coast was rarely struck with any sort of winter weather.
“Well. Here it is. Please, contain your joy before you actually feel it.” Cold, wet, and adhesive in the worst way. Unfortunately, once Ferdinand went out in the snow, he literally danced for joy in a way that made Hubert again struggle to keep from smiling.
“Is it true that you can make it into balls and throw them?” Asked Ferdinand, breathless, once he stopped spinning. Hubert nodded, frowning, but before he could speak further on the matter a snowball slammed into his chest.
“It is? That is brilliant!” Ferdinand threw another, and after a moment, Hubert realized he was supposed to be fighting back. So be it… He grabbed a fistful of snow and started running, packing it as he dodged Ferdinand’s throws. He threw it and grabbed another chunk of loose snow. He was… a little surprised by how good his aim was, actually, given he hadn’t had the opportunity to do… anything similar to this while growing up. But as the snowballs began to fly back and forth, he didn’t bother thinking. When they finished, he and Ferdinand were both covered in snow, laughing.
“So… you simply copied the movies, I take it?”
“I am afraid so… it always looked to be such fun!” Ferdinand laughed. “I will have to go now - I promised Dorothea I would join you for caroling this evening as a last event. My flight is tomorrow.” Hubert frowned. Dorothea went caroling with a few old friends every Cichol’s Day, but he never joined her.
“I, ah… did not plan to attend.”
“What?” Ferdinand seemed stunned. “I… apologize. I assumed you would. Then… I suppose-” Hubert cut him off.
“No, no - I could absolutely attend, if only to send you off?” Ferdinand nodded, seeming very pleased.
“I will see you there, then!” Ferdinand waved as he left, and Hubert debated how he was going to explain this to Dorothea.
---
He broke the news to her calmly, as though it was no shock. She, knowing him so well as she did, took it as one.
“Hubie, you never come sing with us. The first year I asked you, and you had a lot of things to say. And none of them were very flattering to any of us involved.” Dorothea… hadn’t ever brought that incident up since. Hubert chided himself internally, wondering if he had offended his friends like that before without realizing.
“I… must apologize. But in light of recent events, I would like to join you this evening.”
“Recent events? What, a choir of dragons descending from the- never mind.” Dorothea huffed, visibly letting her irritation out, before smiling.
“I’m glad you’ll be joining us.” As she went off to dress for the occasion, Hubert wondered just how foolish he would look.
---
As it turned out, not so much as he expected. It was a pleasant experience. Dorothea was, as always, a talented performer. Ferdinand, it turned out, had a lovely voice. A likely privilege of his upbringing but still, it was breathtaking. Shocking enough that Hubert had caught himself looking the man’s way more than a few times, despite trying to focus on the semi-familiar music. When the group finished at their last stop, Hubert was this time unsurprised to find Ferdinand already handing him a steaming cup of coffee. Black.
“Hubert! I thought you seemed cold.” Hubert took the coffee and sipped it. Ferdinand followed it up, however, with perhaps the worst thing he could have said.
“After all, your face is red! Perhaps you ought to locate a scarf?” Hubert took that in for a moment.
“...yes, perhaps I… should…” Hubert scrambled away, searching in vain for a scarf while he tried to organize his thoughts.
Yes, he had been happy in Ferdinand’s company. Yes, his thoughtfulness evoked a certain warm feeling. But… he was surely overanalyzing his own experience…
“Hubie?” Dorothea’s voice broke him from his own mind, and he saw her giving him a searching glance. “You… didn’t come here because of me, did you?” She smiled with what seemed more like… barely contained excitement than anything else.
“I’m happy for you. You… like him a lot, don’t you? Does Edie know?” Hubert, dumbfounded, shook his head. Dorothea laughed.
“Well. I think you and I both know this…” She indicated each of them in turn, “was just for convenience. Go get him. I’m rooting for you.” She hugged Hubert, a… rather unusual gesture of affection despite their… well, admittedly not particularly close marriage. Hubert was hardly less dazed as he awkwardly approached Ferdinand, but Dorothea’s incitement had reminded him that this was the last time they would meet for… some time. As he drew near, Ferdinand smiled.
“Oh, there you are! I had worried you may neglect to say your goodbyes.” Hubert hesitated.
“...Dorothea and I are… separating.” Hubert realized a split second before the sorrow overtook Ferdinand’s expression how poorly he had phrased that.
“I am so sorry! Walk with me, it… must be a very difficult time for you. Did you wish to share?” Hubert fell silent, embarrassed and trying to decide how to salvage this for a moment.
“...not… particularly. I misrepresented it; we have only been married for public appearances. Our relationship is unchanged; we simply… will be ending the marriage, to pursue more… personal relationship prospects.” That actually did catch Ferdinand’s interest in a way that made Hubert’s heartbeat accelerate.
“Personal, you say? Is it you who are interested in someone?”
“Yes.” The words were difficult to force out, which… irritated him, but was to be expected, he supposed. He still found it more likely than not that Ferdinand would… well, perhaps not mock him, but let him down gently. “In fact, I am interested in… you. Dorothea noticed before I had fully done so.” Hubert waited, a breathless, tense pause before Ferdinand took his hands.
“...I still have a flight,” he noted, but the grin on his face made Hubert… dare to hope, perhaps. “However, I will be in touch. I can visit soon. Or perhaps you can come south! I can book you a flight-” He must have noticed Hubert’s wince, because he quickly backtracked.
“No matter. We will determine details later. I am just very glad you came to say goodbye.” Ferdinand paused.
“May I?” Hubert wasn’t entirely certain what he was nodding about until Ferdinand kissed him. He… wasn’t entirely certain after either, but the warmth spreading in his chest was enough of an answer.
“It was something of an obligation,” added Ferdinand, pointing above them. On a tree, alone and very removable, grew a sprig of mistletoe, which they had managed to walk directly under. It was so absurd - so unexpected in context - that Hubert could not help but laugh. Ferdinand joined him, and they returned to their friends like that, parting ways for the time being in shared joy. And that, Hubert supposed, was close enough to the holiday spirit.