"Very well. If you insist on the matter, I will try it," Hubert said, curiosity hidden behind thinly veiled boredom. His eyes narrowed as Ferdinand beamed happily at his response. He shone like a disgustingly bright beacon at the other side of the table. The idle chatter of others masked the calmness of the gardens, now and again he would overhear talks of the upcoming tournament. It seemed word had spread that Byleth would be taking part, it came as a surprise, but a pleasant one none the less.
"Excellent! Allow me to pour you a cup, I am sure you will find both the aroma and taste delightful!" Ferdinand swept his flowing hair to one side, standing from his chair. Even the simplest of actions looked graceful, as if rehearsed to perfection.
"I thank you. May I also offer you a cup of coffee? I'm sure you will find it equally delectable," he replied with a lace of vindictiveness, knowing full well that Ferdinand disliked the taste with a certain fervour. Curious to see if he would accept in kind.
"Well, I believe it is only fair to return the gesture," he replied without hesitation, a smile still planted upon his face. To Hubert, it seemed that Ferdinand was more enthused about the fact that they were sharing a casual drink, rather than the actual contents of the encounter itself.
He could only blame himself. He did accept the invitation the day before on whimsy, if not to make their trading of gifts less awkward. Though, it allowed a momentary distraction none the less. They would be marching to Arianrhod soon. Although most of the planning had been done, there would be no time to rest in the coming days.
"I have noticed something," Ferdinand said confidently as he placed the cup of tea in front of the dark mage. He began pouring himself a coffee before Hubert could do it for him. "You have become much more approachable since you began courting the commander."
"Hmph," he grunted, eyes dead-pan. His charming other half had hardly kept things quiet since this all began. It didn't help matters that she was close with those who traded rumours akin to merchants and goods. "Have you considered that I may not have changed at all? Merely your perception of me that has?"
"That is a possibility. You are aware that we all hold her in such high esteem. The fact that she has chosen you means there must be… more than meets the eye."
Hubert glowered at him. "What are you implying?"
"Perhaps… you have a rather large personality." He smirked, placing a hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh.
"You're amusing none but yourself," he replied seriously. Only Ferdinand could make a rude joke sound eloquent.
"Oh come now, would it kill you to lighten up? The fact that we are having tea together means there has been some sort of shift. You even bought me a thoughtful gift!" he replied lightly.
He exhaled sharply. It was difficult not to be sucked in by Ferdinand's bright demeanour. "I suppose there is nothing for it. I have not exactly been forthcoming in the matter of forging friendships or humouring people – I must admit this is new to me. But don't misunderstand, my life is still very much dedicated to Lady Edelgard. Nothing has changed in that regard."
"Yes, yes. Her majesty takes precedence. I would expect no less from you, Hubert." Ferdinand brought a hand to the coffee mug, eyeing it pensively. "I am ecstatic for you, my friend, and glad you realise you can be happy at no expense to your duties."
Ferdinand's undying optimism, which he had complimented in the past, was starting to feel a touch overbearing. "Indeed. Now, may we speak of something other than my personal life?"
Hubert pressed the teacup to his lips, taking a tentative sip. To him, it tasted as someone had simply steeped the grass beneath their feet. He internally flinched, trying not to outwardly show his reaction. In the same moment, Ferdinand drank some coffee. The colour draining from his face as he swallowed. They looked at each other in distaste for a few seconds.
"Perhaps we should stick to our own beverages, what do you say?" Ferdinand said with a laugh.
"Agreed." He chucked.
Ferdinand's amber eyes then latched onto something behind them and he raised an eyebrow. Hubert turned his head to catch a flash of green hair duck behind the entrance wall.
"It seems we are being watched," the noble said with an amused expression.
Hubert sighed, rising from his seat. "If you'll excuse me for a moment."
"By all means."
He walked towards the entrance to the gardens, curiosity getting the better of him. He rounded the wall to find her crouching, back to it, appearing absent in thought.
"Spying on me, are you?" he asked loudly.
Byleth jumped to her feet, turning to face him. "No! Not at all, I was looking for you actually," she replied through an innocent grin.
"Then why, pray tell, are you hiding behind a wall?"
She pulled him out of sight of the gardens. He felt his heart thud heavier at her touch, everything about her intoxicated him, he oft found it difficult to mask. "I was just surprised when I saw you both having tea together, it wasn't what I expected at all," she said, not even trying to contain her joy over the situation. "I must admit, I'm a touch jealous that Ferdinand got a gift before I did," she teased.
"I see, you heard about that," he replied moodily, wondering who had overseen that exchange. He pulled a hand through his hair, averting his gaze. "I did indeed buy you a gift, but I have yet to find the moment to give it to you."
The ring laid heavy in his pocket. He had carried it with him for a few days now, ever conscious of its existence. He wasn't quite sure what she thought of marriage, attempting the broach the situation recently, but she merely shied away and changed the subject. Perhaps his initial proposal was too out of the blue – more akin to a guarantee than an actual declaration of his love. It was also possible she did not even bear the same sentiments, though even thinking about that cut him deep.
"Oh. All right." Her eyes scrutinised his every feature, as if she would be able to read him like a book if she tried hard enough. "Then I have a gift for you," she said sweetly, pulling him in close.
The feel of her soft lips against his sent a subtle buzz down his spine. He ended the kiss prematurely, fighting against his desires. Even though there was no one able to witness them, he was still not fond of public displays of affection.
"We can go somewhere more private if you like," he whispered suggestively.
"And cut your tea party short? I would never!" she said brightly, breaking from his embrace.
He sighed crassly. "Did you seek me out merely to torture me?"
"No, that's just a boon," she replied with a grin. "Also, I'm to be competing in the tournament tonight."
"Yes, I heard. You don't have to worry; I have set aside time so I can attend."
"I was wondering if you'd like to compete as well, actually."
"Absolutely not," he snapped. "It is a sword tournament. I may have considered it if it was magic, but I have no business participating." He physically cringed at the thought of being bested even by the likes of Caspar; trying to doge his swings as the brute cried bloody murder.
"Hmm," she mused, appearing to be deep in thought with a braced emotionless expression. It was akin to the earlier days when she would not laugh nor anguish. Always thinking inwardly; as if holding a conversation with her own mind. "Then perhaps we could have a private spar afterwards."
"I truly hope that's a euphemism," Hubert mumbled.
Byleth giggled, breaking her stoicism. "Sadly not, though I cannot guarantee what will happen afterwards… Come on, I'll even let you use your magic to even the odds."
"To what end? Your intentions are lost on me."
"It was mentioned earlier, and it had me thinking. We haven't had a duel before – well, not since the academy days. The idea appeals to me, what else can I say? Humour me."
He was never the type to take someone's word for something without knowing the true intentions, but she had him interested. It was enough, for now. "Very well. I accept."
"Thank you," she replied gratefully, pulling him down to place a soothing kiss on his cheek.
He placed a hand behind her head, preventing her from pulling away. "I can't guarantee I'll be gentle," he whispered.
"I'm holding out hope that you won't."
He huffed a laugh. "Oh. This will be interesting."
"I'll let you return, it's rude to keep your guest waiting," she said, putting distance between them. She shot him a wicked grin before heading off in the opposite direction. His lady was nothing if not competitive.
"Professor!" Dorothea sang, wrapping her arms around her. "Are you sure you don't want a drink?"
Byleth turned her head to greet her friend, having to raise her voice to respond over the noise of the crowd. She had little space to move, finding herself shoulder to shoulder with onlookers as she waited for the match to begin.
"Are you trying to sabotage me?" She laughed.
"I would never!" Dorothea said into her ear. "Well, maybe a little!"
The training grounds were alive with activity. The whole strike force in attendance in addition to a hefty chunk of the army. Many even had to watch from outside the doorway due to the crowd backing up. The final round between herself and Petra was about to begin. I was expected as much from the beginning. No one, save herself, could rival the Brigid princess when it came to swordplay.
A huge roar of a cheer greeted Edelgard as she announced the beginning of the match, beckoning the participants to take their places in the arena. Byleth breathed deep before hoisting herself over the makeshift barrier.
She didn't realise it at first, but she had much riding on this fight. Namely her reputation.
Petra had taken up her station on the battlefield in her absence, causing certain rumours to spread among the militia regarding her capabilities. It was her chance to take back her pride, to prove that she was strong enough to lead them to battle.
Everyone grew silent as they both entered the area, save for the odd pensive whisper and clatter of drinks. They bowed to each other courteously, not speaking a word. Petra's eyes were hardened and focused, it was clear she was fighting to win.
Edelgard handed them both a training sword each.
"Both of you, five paces back. Then begin," she said bluntly before striding to the side-lines to watch, eyeing them both curiously.
Usually, the cheers would start, but no one dared mutter. Their boots grated on the grainy stone floor as they took their paces, keeping strict and intense eye contact. As she neared her last step Byleth whipped her blade out to the side, assuming an open stance. Petra kept her weapon close to her body, crouching as if she were ready to pounce.
The moment her heel tapped upon the final step they launched themselves at each other; closing the distance before they had time to draw breath. Their swords clashed, echoing off the walls. Parrying the attack, she took a swift step back before activating her crest, eyes glowing with the flame emblem as time slowed for her.
She lunged forward again. In that swift moment, she calculated all her minute movements, immediately dodging Petra's blade as it lashed past her hairline. Decelerated air swished across her face. She brought her blade up, halting it before the woman's throat. Time resumed as normal, her bangs falling upon her face.
"Dead," she said bluntly before pulling the sword away.
There was a short silence.
Petra bowed courteously, her eyes softening. "I concede," she said respectfully.
The audience roared into animation, fists raised with cheers, along with the angry shouts of those who had lost bets. Byleth breathed out. The whole fight had lasted nary a breath.
After the offerings of free drinks and the bombardments of compliments and felicitations, she finally managed to sneak away. She leant against the wall next to Hubert, the cold stone a relief against her back. He had been by Edelgard's side most of the evening up until her leave just moments earlier. She let out an elated sigh, managing to sneak a moment of reverie amongst the chaos.
"Congratulations are in order," he said. "However, you could have made more of a show out of it."
"I feel I made my point," she said assuredly, as she relaxed her body. She held a drink in one hand, eyes falling over the jovial horde of soldiers. The training grounds were dying down, people leaving in droves to continue the celebration in the mess hall.
"I never took you for one to put stock in rumours."
"Hmm. Even if it was just hearsay, it's good to put them in their place. Besides, I'm saving my energy for the main fight," she said with a wink, nudging him with her hip.
"Heh. You still want to spar? Very well."
She could tell he was ruminating on it. Possibly thinking up a strategy to beat her. It was what he did best after all. Out of everyone in the army, Hubert was the one that knew her best whether on the battlefield or not. Taking that into consideration it was going to be hard-won – especially since she was allowing the use of magic. It wasn't a challenge made on whimsy though. After everything that had happened as a consequence of her injuries, she desired to prove that she was capable to him. She wished to fight by his side, rather than him as her protector, and she needed him to see that. No more excuses to keep her safe at the side-lines.
As the last soldier left Byleth sauntered up to the door, closing it behind him. The training ground that was teeming with life just moments ago now sat silent, just the two of them and the cold walls to bear witness.
Hubert unlatched his cape before flinging it over a nearby training dummy. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt a little, allowing him better freedom of movement. Byleth's hands trembled with giddiness. Never had she labelled something like this as anything close to intimate. It wasn't a reaction she expected to have before their spar, but she allowed it none the less.
Hubert walked over to the weapon rack, seemingly lost in thought.
"I smell burning," she said, teasing him.
"Well, I won't be winning on strength alone. This will take some strategy," he replied, his eyes narrowing as he threw her a training sword.
She caught it without effort, taking her place at the side of the arena. He stood opposite from her on the other side, holding his blade in a defensive position in front of his body. His other hand glowed purple, licks of violet flame lapping at his wrist.
For someone not well versed on swordplay, she was impressed at how flawless his stance was. "Please try not to make a mess of the place," she said, her expression sharp, a smile tugging at the side of her mouth.
"As you wish. But do bear in mind that it's against my nature to use non-terminal force." He smirked, clearly an empty threat.
"Duly noted."
Byleth adjusted her stance before lunging forward. She closed the gap between them swiftly, but before she could reach him a douse of purple flame blocked her way. She dodged, twisting her body to fall back on course.
"You'll have to do better than that!" she shouted as they clashed swords. He blocked her blow, her eyes meeting his confident green ones. She swung twice more, Hubert thwarting it promptly each time. Another gout of fire blazed beneath her, and she jumped back to get some distance.
"You're not activating your crest," he said as if disappointed, adjusting his posture.
"Just gauging your skill first, I don't want to overwhelm you." Her breaths came heavier. It was clear his intents were on wearing her down, trying to get the upper hand by tiring her out.
"You wound me," he replied, putting up his defences again.
"If you insist," Byleth replied as she darted forward, crest illuminated in the low light. With her increased speed and perception, she dodged the projectile fires with ease. She lined up her sights, planning a swift end to the duel as she closed in. A strange sensation then blanketed her body before she materialised on the other side of him. She worked through the sickening feeling of vertigo, managing to find her bearings just in time to dodge his strike. She turned viciously with a wide attack, only to find herself hurled to the other side of the room where she started. The crest of flames faded from her eyesight, feeling the trickle of fresh sweat down her forehead.
"Teleportation magic? Really?" she said through heaving breaths. It was unexpected. She had never seen him use it during battles before.
"Surprised?" He chuckled.
"A little," she said before launching another attack. She had to think quickly, he'd anticipated her every move up until now. At this rate he would surely win. It took but one misstep on her part. She found herself warped through the room again, deciding to throw herself to the side the moment her boots touched the ground. She rolled to a stop, activating her crest in time to barely evade his swing. She decided to keep it activated regardless of the energy drain, if this next move didn't work, she would surely be spent.
She raised her sword again, and as expected, the familiar feeling of his magic crawled over her body. Only this time, she was expecting it – even if it were just for a split second. Instead of swinging, she hurled the blade like a javelin. Hubert had no choice but to dodge, giving her the chance that she needed. She ducked, then threw herself up, disarming him and turning the splintered blade on his neck.
"Dead," she said as casually as she could. It was obvious she was fatigued, whilst Hubert had hardly broken a sweat.
"I can hardly argue with that. Well done," he replied grimly, pushing the weapon away. "Though I'm willing to go another round if you fancy."
She lowered it at his touch, picking up the other sword as she paced over to the rack. "That's enough for now… I underestimated you."
"Yes, but it seems I misjudged your… Tenacity."
"It would be prudent to trust in the capabilities of your future wife."
"I suppose so… Wait, what did you say?"
Her face burned as she placed her fingertips upon her lips. Perhaps such a verbal misstep was in part due to the adrenaline, combined with the fact that she had been mulling over his proposal for a large part of the day. She turned to face him, daring to make eye contact. His expression seemed rather stunned, matching her own.
"Maybe another way to put it would be to not underestimate your fiancé," she replied candidly as she walked tentatively towards him. There was no point dancing around the subject, it seemed even her subconscious knew better.
"I… find myself at a loss for words," he replied as he took her hands in his.
She huffed a laugh. "You should have expected it, you did ask me to marry you after all." She suddenly found it hard to put her emotions into speech as well, but she knew how she felt. Married or not, if she were to lose him it would feel the same. "I'm... sorry it took so long to give you an answer."
He placed a gentle hand on her cheek. "I was beginning to wonder if… no, never mind." His other hand fumbled with the pocket of his waistcoat. "About that gift I mentioned earlier," he said as he pulled out a trinket. "I had hoped we'd be in more… scenic surroundings. But I suppose that's not important. You illuminate even the most dismal of places after all." He smiled as he took her hand in his, carefully fitting the ring upon her finger. He brought it up to his lips, kissing her hand with such tenderness that it left her unable to think clearly. She held it up to the light, watching the amethyst glint in the centre of the band. "I… might have acquired your ring size whilst you were sleeping," he whispered with a hushed laugh.
"You have good taste. It's beautiful," she said, trying to contain herself. She quickly remembered she had her ring with her. She had carried it ever since her father's death; remembering Jerlat's words as clear as if he had just whispered them into her ear. "I have one for you as well," she said quietly, pulling the ring from her pocket. She placed it in his hand, curling his fingers around it. "It probably won't fit you because it a family heirloom, but…"
"I will keep it with me. Always," he said with poise as he brushed his lips upon her forehead. His lips then travelled down to meet hers and they shared their first kiss as betrothed lovers. Warm, soothing, passionate - as if the war mattered little; akin to an unfortunate echo in the distance. They broke apart and he leant his forehead against hers. "I find myself feeling overwhelmed. I am skilled in many things. Diplomacy, subterfuge, espionage… But to be a good Husband…"
"No need to worry. First, we must ride out the flames of this war." She leant her head against his chest.
He embraced her tightly. "Yes. And together we will forge a new life from the ashes."
