Work Text:
Being back in Lhant after all this time is discomfiting.
It’s not simply the way the air tastes on his tongue, crisp and soothing, so very different from the sharp heat of Strahta. Nor is it the way the wind whistles between the leaves of the apple trees in the orchard. There’s the manor, so much emptier without his father and yet, all the same, haunted by him; there’s the way the maids won’t meet his eyes, the way Bailey and the other men of the militia watch him in stunned reverence. There’s Frederic, and his mother—and her new companion, a mild-mannered Growlithe.
And there’s Asbel.
Just seeing him here makes Hubert’s skin crawl. But when it comes to crossing blades, he knows his partner is not the same. Once Asbel, too, is gone, she winds between his legs, skin cool through the fabric of his trousers. She looks up at him with large, round eyes, the same expression she wore when she was an Eevee and he and Asbel had gotten into a silly fight about something.
Back then, she would just want to go back, to see her sister—the Eevee in Asbel’s care, who was so much more carefree than Hubert’s, and so was much more likely to get into trouble. Not unlike her trainer, who now Hubert cannot bear to meet the gaze of, lest the weight of what he has done to his own brother sink beneath his skin.
Vaporeon coos at him as he stares out the window of the study, watching the rain pitter-patter against the pane. It is as sad and pathetic as it was when he was a child, telling her she could not go see her sister until Asbel apologized to him.
It is not her fault things wound up like this.
But, then, neither is it his.
The rain falls and falls, and all Hubert can think of is that look on his brother’s face behind the tip of Hubert’s blade.
“Wherever they go now,” Hubert tells Vaporeon testily, “it is none of our concern.”
“Va…”
Hubert’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. Vaporeon settles down next to him, tucking her paws under her tail.
His mother’s voice plays in his head again. He shuts it out.
All there is is the rain.
~
They meet Asbel’s Eevee again the next time he returns to Lhant, but she is an Eevee no longer. Her ribbons are a testament to how well she has been loved over the years; the way her eyes seek out Hubert, seeming to dig beneath his very skin, leaves him feeling cold even as he endeavours to keep himself impassive.
Vaporeon is well-trained, too, and stays at his feet. Though he can tell, even without looking at her, how desperately she wishes to greet her sister, to understand this new form she has taken in her absence. He feels for her; but they cannot cross back, not after everything. The past must stay behind them. They are too changed to bring it careening back to the present, no matter how desperately Asbel might try to.
But when Windor invades, Vaporeon does not stand back. She leaps into action to protect Sylveon as Richard descends upon Asbel, sending an Aqua Jet out ahead of her to grab her sister and drag her away from the furious king. Hubert doesn’t see them in that moment, but, after the fact, he can imagine it: the way they groomed each other when they were young, his Eevee checking over Asbel’s for injuries after taking a tumble in the mud. Even now, Vaporeon will take care to keep her out of trouble—but she does not want to be taken care of, no, for she bounds away again to help her trainer, in spite of the limp she carries after one of Richard’s artes strikes her down.
When the smoke clears, Asbel kneels down next to Sylveon, and gently scoops her into his arms. Sophie comes to his side, while Vaporeon stands in a silent vigil across from them. It is unsettling in its lack of familiarity, the way Asbel’s brow furrows, the way his hands run so gently through his partner’s fur. She looks up at him with nothing less than sheer admiration.
It’s only later, when Asbel swears to go to bat for him in Strahta, that Hubert feels himself beginning to crack. He sends his brother off with a good luck charm, the same one that has followed him to Strahta and back again, passed between their hands seven years prior. Between them, Vaporeon and Sylveon sit side-by-side, their flanks touching, their heads bowed together. They are so changed, and yet, too, the same.
When he calls to her, Sylveon struggles up to her feet to join Asbel and his companions on the way out. He tosses Hubert a soft smile as he goes, which Hubert steadfastly does not return, and slowly leads his partner out of the room.
Vaporeon stays where she is. When Hubert leans down to stroke her head, she pushes her nose up into his hand with a sad-sounding whimper that sends a pang down into his hardened heart. Not hardened enough, in spite of the way the manor seems to push down against him, seeks to freeze it by pressure.
He grits his teeth against the sensation, and stands tall again. So much has changed.
So much has stayed the same.
Where are they supposed to go from here?
~
Joining up with Asbel and his friends takes some getting used to, and none seems to be, strangely, as aware of this as Sophie is.
They’re camping out in the mountains of Fendel, tucked into an alcove while they wait out a sudden flurry of snow. Hubert has sat himself as far away from the others as he can physically bring himself, while Cheria and her partner, Audino, distribute food to everyone else and their Pokémon partners. They apparently met sometime in the past year, as Cheria’s healing artes came into fruition. It was a perfect match, then—two souls always meant to collide.
Vaporeon is the only piece of Hubert’s childhood he has willingly let himself hang on to, telling himself that it is irrelevant if she once was his childhood Pokémon, because now she is different: sleek blue, as powerful a force on the battlefield as he has become. But now, she is curled up by the fire Pascal made for them with Sylveon, her sister’s ribbons wrapped around her as if in protection from the cold.
Instead, the space beside Hubert is filled by Sophie, whose gave lingers on the two Pokémon as well. On either side of them, Pascal’s Rotom and Malik’s Gliscor seek out warmth from the fire, too. Asbel and Malik are talking about something, too quietly for Hubert to hear but too obviously for him to ignore the shiver that passes over his skin as a result. Pascal, for her part, continues to stoke the fire, beaming as Gliscor grabs her shotstaff to help her do so.
“Asbel told me that Sylveon and Vaporeon used to be the same Pokémon,” Sophie suddenly says.
Hubert pauses. Briefly, his eyes slide over to her, but she is still looking at his and his brother’s partners, coiled together by the fire, noses brushing.
“Don’t you know about Pokémon, Sophie?”
In his peripherals, he sees her shake her head.
“Well, Sylveon and Vaporeon are both evolutions of the Pokémon Eevee. So, yes. They once were the same. But not any longer.”
“Why did they become different Pokémon? Is it because you and Asbel are different?”
“You could say that, I suppose… Vaporeon evolved because I gave her a special stone. It was…a gift, from a woman I met in Yu Liberté.”
“Did Sylveon need one too?”
“No. Eevee evolves into Sylveon when it forms a special bond with the person raising it.”
In all honesty, Hubert doubts Asbel ever had any intention of letting her evolve. When Marian had gifted Hubert the Water Stone to evolve his Eevee, it had been with a small smile, one that seemed to say she understood why, sometimes, his expression grew so pained when he looked upon his partner. For Asbel, letting his Eevee evolve had surely been a trial in itself. The desire to cling to what is gone, to turn and run when it looks like change looms over the precipice…
“Richard really hurt her,” Sophie says softly. “Asbel says it’s okay, because he can protect her, but she must be sad about it.”
Hubert had noticed it. That even now, Sylveon walks with a limp. Whatever damage Richard did to her, even Cheria and Audino seem unable to have cured it. And yet Asbel still smiles at her, soft and warm and loving, as if she really is the same Eevee who used to tumble around in the courtyard after the rain. Asbel smiled at her then, too, even as their mother scolded him for letting his Pokémon trail mud into the foyer.
All Hubert can bring himself to say is, “I suppose.”
Sophie doesn’t ask him to elaborate. She just sits by him, watching, until the snow begins to fall lighter, drifting without direction in the empty canvas of sky above them.
They carry on. Asbel falls into step beside Sylveon, Vaporeon on her other side, letting her lean against her as the cold settles harshly over her damaged joint. They trudge through the snow, entangled, while Hubert pushes on ahead to the front of their congregation, where he will not be able to see them. Where he will not be forced to contend with that look in either Pokémon’s eyes, nor the look in Asbel’s.
It does not chase away the feeling of them boring against his back.
~
Returning to Lhant is discomfiting, after all this time.
The ghosts remain. Not just Aston. Richard, and Sylveon. Asbel. The sound of rain against the windowpane.
When they leave here, it will be to go off and save the world. It’s funny, how childlike that sounds, and yet it is the truth.
Hubert finds himself in the study again, watching as the clouds roll in splotches of watercolour over the sunset. It will rain tonight, he supposes, though it is harder to tell here than it was in Strahta, where the charged air said so much about the weather, where the valkines cryas could always be relied on to supply them with relief in the long, sweltering patches of dryness.
But, eventually, as the colour fades from the sky, so too does it open up. Light patters against the pane, and then a maelstrom lashing against it. He watches, unflinching, listens. He thinks back to the day he cast Asbel from this room, while Vaporeon stared up at him with those sad, sad eyes.
Before he can follow the memory to all the guilt it has of late inspired in him, the creak of the door has him turning to attention. As if heralded in by the direction of his thoughts, it is Asbel. His painstaking gaze sends Hubert’s eyes away from his again, back to the window.
“It’s late,” Asbel says uncertainly.
“It only seems that way because of the rain,” Hubert dismisses. “I do not need a keeper, brother.”
“I…I know that.” Slowly, with uncharacteristically measured steps, Asbel comes to stand beside him. He’s quiet for a moment, before he says, “Vaporeon already went to bed, so I was surprised when you weren’t with her.”
“Only because she feels the need to follow Sylveon around,” Hubert mutters. “If I had felt compelled to have her stay, she would have, but there is no reason to deprive them of each other’s company.”
“They’ve gotten really close again, huh?” Asbel’s lips flicker up into a small smile. “The other day, I saw them brushing their noses together. Like a kiss. It was cute.”
Hubert blanches. “Cute? Don’t you think it a touch unseemly for Pokémon raised as sisters?”
“What, you think siblings can’t be close?” When Hubert glances over at him, Asbel is still smiling. He looks far too amused for Hubert’s liking, and this is only reinforced when he adds, “I wouldn’t mind being close to you like that again, Hubert.”
Despite himself, the heat rushes back up to Hubert’s cheeks. He crosses his arms defensively over his chest.
“Don’t be ridiculous. If your intention is to humiliate me into going to bed, then I concede.”
Asbel just laughs, though. It sounds a touch sheepish as he rubs behind his head. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Hubert. I mean it. Seeing how close they are, it makes me miss how close we were, too. But…” He hesitates a moment, his good humour washing away as the rain lashes against the window with more force still. “I understand, too, why it’s hard. I don’t want to push things. I’m just happy to have you back.”
Yes, that’s his brother: as stubbornly earnest as ever, no matter how it makes Hubert’s ears ring.
With a huff, he drops his arms back down to his side and turns on his heel. Asbel follows after him, though, graciously, in silence. It’s only when they come into their childhood bedroom that Hubert stops, his breath catching as he sees where, exactly, Vaporeon and Sylveon have gone.
“Oh, yeah.” Asbel slips into the room beside him. The twitch of his lips is, this time, apologetic. “I guess Mom took away their old bed for Growlithe, so I let Sylveon sleep on my bed, but…”
But now that Vaporeon is curled up around her, there’s really no room for Asbel at all.
Hubert heaves a massive sigh. They look so peaceful, their chests rising and falling in tandem. It has been a long time since Hubert has seen Vaporeon so relaxed, with Sylveon’s ribbons wrapped around her to hold her close. She has positioned herself protectively around Sylveon’s injured leg. Hubert rather gets the sense that, were he to reach out to awaken them, she might not hesitate to lash out to protect her sister—even if it meant blindly attacking her trainer.
“What are we supposed to do then?” he finally asks, exasperated.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Asbel says immediately. “You have your bed. I can go find some extra blankets.”
Hubert waits a beat for him to say he’s joking, but when it doesn’t come, all he can do is pinch his nose in irritation.
“Fine,” he bites out. “You can sleep in my bed with me.”
Asbel’s eyes widen. “W-what? Are you sure, Hubert? There’s not very much space…”
“I’m aware, thank you. I wouldn’t have said it if I had reservations.”
That’s a lie, and Asbel probably knows it as well as he does. But he just nods, hiding a smile, and turns to get changed into his sleepwear. Cursing his soft heart, Hubert turns the other way to do the same.
Short minutes later, they stand on either side of his bed, waiting for the other to make the first move. It is unlike Asbel, and yet, somehow, it is not. Because after all this time, of course he would wait for Hubert to give him some kind of sign. There is an anxiousness about him, the same anxiousness that creeps up when he thinks no one else is looking. That he is not good enough, that he has not done enough for any of them. He is as haunted by this place as Hubert is. He just doesn’t want to admit it.
So, Hubert makes the first move, and pulls the blanket aside after he has tucked himself beneath it to impatiently gesture for Asbel to crawl in beside him. With a soft smile, Asbel does, and then leans over to the bedside table to turn out the eleth lamp. As they are flooded in darkness, only the sounds of the rain pelting the window permeates the gentle ambience of their breaths mingled together, of the soft snores of their partners on the other bed.
With so little space between them, it is impossible to avoid their skin brushing. Every little touch has Hubert’s skin searing in want of more, of a closeness they have not had since they were children, of, perhaps, something even closer. And as the sound of the rain washes over him, so too does he lose himself in the sensation of it pulling him under. His muscles relax, progressively, until he finds himself falling back against his brother. Asbel’s breath tickles against his ear. Lost to the rain, to the warm respite Asbel offers from it, his hand reaches back to find his brother’s.
He feels the moment their fingers hook together not in the shocks the wind up from his hand but against his neck, the stilted breath Asbel exhales against his skin. And then, suddenly, he is moving closer, his other arm wrapping around Hubert and pulling him closer, a mimicry of their slumbering Pokémon on the other side of the room. Hubert’s foot slides between Asbel’s. He breathes out, and closes his eyes, as Asbel presses his lips against his neck. He does nothing more. Just stays close, and warm, and so very…Asbel.
It should be uncomfortable. But as much as Hubert’s heart pounds its protest against his ribcage, he cannot bring himself to disentangle their limbs. The sound of the rain lightens, makes way for the comforting murmur of their breaths evening out as one.
In no time at all, Hubert finds himself drifting off to sleep, lulled by the weight of his brother’s embrace.