sranks | locked to darkseal

[Hubert's reading too, so he doesn't mind the silence that spans between them. It's not exactly comfortable since he's still keeping an eye on Linhardt, but it's not bad either. Maybe if Linhardt wasn't sick, this would genuinely be nice. Just a moment where he can put everything else aside and focus on something that feels so trivial compared to the work he's been doing for Lady Edelgard.

...Not that taking care of Linhardt is trivial, not at all. He seems to be doing better, anyway.

He glances up at Linhardt's words, considering them carefully before responding.]

Not everyone requires the same amount of sleep. Lady Edelgard has difficulties getting up in the morning if she hasn't gotten at least six hours of sleep.

[1. why do you know that and 2. why are you making that sound like it's weird???]

It's possible that you require more sleep than most people. Your sleep schedule is erratic as well, is it not? That could have something to do with it as well.

[...]

While I can't say I personally care for the amount of naps you take, as long as you're doing what we've asked of you, there's no harm in taking breaks. Pushing yourself to your very limit will only cause setbacks.

[Straightforward, but there's a hint of something beneath it. It might have been open worry in another person, but it's Hubert so of course any and all emotions are Difficult.]

[Linhardt isn't surprised that Hubert knows exactly how much sleep Edelgard needs; he's been attending to her needs for what probably counts as forever, so his knowledge of that is...unsurprising, to say the least.

Still, he...kind of gets what the man is getting at--it's no less frustrating, because the more he thinks about it, the more it feels like a false platitude. It feels like he's not doing enough, that he needs to push himself harder because it's only a matter of time before they spring their plan and he doesn't want to get left behind and have to face the possibility of--

Linhardt's look gets surprisingly stormy, the more he thinks about it, and he winds up just...hiding his face in his book a bit. Trying to push the thoughts out. Push the anxieties out. He can't afford to hesitate, he can't afford to falter anymore, because it's not just Hubert he has to impress anymore.]

My sleep schedule has always been like this, yes. The sweet embrace of sleep has always proven far too tempting...but...

[On one hand, he does tire out pretty easily. On the other, he's...never had to properly manage his time for a day in his goddamn life, and lord knows he spends more time than anyone reading on crests and anything to do with crests? He doesn't have time for any of the other shit he should be doing, usually, because he's always stuck to what interested him.

...This is probably the biggest reality check that Linhardt's actually faced thus far, in hindsight.]

...No, never mind. It's likely an inane worry.

[He puts his book back down and goes back to reading, once again avoiding actually saying what's on his mind or acknowledging there's a problem. Because goddammit Lin.]

[The stormy look gets him to pause, poised to turn the next page in the book (because of course he can manage to read while talking, this is Hubert what do you expect) but at that look he hesitates. He listens when Linhardt decides to talk, and the words help him make up his mind.

Hubert shuts the book, setting it down on the desk as he turns to give the other man his full attention. He crosses his legs and folds his hands on his knee. It still manages to look poised, though it's more relaxed than he usually gets around anyone.]

Linhardt. [It's not warning or scolding, just an attempt to get the other man's attention.] This goes beyond just your sleep schedule.

[He doesn't know that, not really. Hubert has always been good at reading people, but a good amount of his methods involve guessing until he hits on something that will assist him. That's what this is based in, but this isn't about ensuring Linhardt's usefulness.

He wants to know what's troubling his friend. He has a pretty damn good idea of what it is already.]

Tell me what's on your mind.

[It isn't an order. It's not exactly the most conversational either, but he's paying attention and eager to listen.]

[Some part of Linhardt hates that Hubert knows basically all of his tells at this point. If Linhardt were a more emotionally competent man in his own right, he'd probably realize it isn't so much that, as much as it is the fact that he can only keep a solid lid on what he wants to avoid for so long before it starts seeping out. Eventually, something's got to give.

Fortunately for Hubert, that something is Linhardt. He doesn't look up from the book (he's not so bad at multi-tasking either), but he does start talking. It's...definitely a little stunted, considering Linhardt's own problems with expressing himself, but he's. He's trying.]

I don't feel as if I have enough time to properly...prove, nor brace myself for what's to come. [It's a start, though it really sounds like he's trying to suss it out as he speaks, though he winds up putting the book down and staring at one of his hands with that unreadable expression he's tended to employ a few times.] ...I've never liked killing, you know. Ever since our first day on the field, when I felt that bandit's blood on my hands...it disgusted me beyond reproach. It's why I've focused myself entirely on faith magic, to avoid having to take lives as much as possible. I can't avoid it forever, I know that, but being able to heal others on the battlefield...it let me have some form of use. Even if I couldn't fell enemy after enemy, I could heal the scars on our classmates, and ensure that they could live to see tomorrow. That's all I had prepared myself for, because I...

I never wanted to kill. I never wanted blood on my hands, to see the light fade from another human being's eyes...

But I know if I don't prepare myself now--if I don't spend every waking hour that I can to prepare myself for this moment, I risk only becoming a liability to Edelgard and yourself. I risk...being seen as expendable, as nothing but a burden to be discarded and thrown away. And that's...that's...

[Linhardt pauses, though he forces himself to find his words before Hubert starts talking. There's something that creeps in his tone, despite his face not changing; it sounds like fear.]

That's not the scariest thought, I think. I'd...rather be expendable, I think than face the idea that I would have to face you, should I falter.

[...oh. He's mostly just been trying to force his thoughts together, the intricate puzzle forcing itself to connect piece by piece, and somehow...he thinks he's found the root of it. It's making his chest tighten something fierce, and he doesn't want to look at Hubert after he says it.]

I won't betray the trust you both have given me. I won't, and I will do what is required. But...I need to work harder, and if not harder, I need to find a way to work smarter so that may never come to pass. I need to ensure that I prove that I can do what you both require of me. That's why I...

[...he trails off there. He's said too much already, practically laid himself bare before Hubert, and it's...frightening, really.]

[It is frightening, and Hubert's expression probably isn't helping. It's the same one he always wears, an expression he's carefully crafted over the years to hide anything that might lurk beneath the surface. It's just shy of pleasant, but it isn't as openly intimidating as so many of his other faces.

He doesn't speak for a moment. He tips his head a bit, raising a hand to his chin as he considers Linhardt's words. Slowly - ever so slowly - that expression begins to fade, replaced with something neutral. It's not worried, but it's contemplative. His gaze drifts to the books on the desk. Eventually he speaks.]

I can't say I fully understand all your concerns. The path I walk is not one most people can understand, and I don't expect them to. My devotion to Lady Edelgard is single-minded; nothing else matters in the world but her ideals and her goal. I would cut down anyone - everyone - if it meant she could do what she must.

It isn't a viewpoint that most could understand. It certainly isn't one I would ask of you.

We are very different people. I have never had any talent for healing with magic or otherwise. My hands were stained long before arriving here. I haven't hesitated to kill, and I certainly won't now when we're so close. Quite a few people would find that horrifying and repulsive.

[He doesn't sound bothered by that idea at all. It's a fact, that's all.

But Linhardt has never looked at him that way.]

I must admit, I was surprised that you wanted to be my friend. We're almost exact opposites and I never would have thought you'd join us.

[...]

Were it in my power, I would not station you in any position where you could see battle. I would find a use for your research, and find a safe place to put you, where you would never see the horrors of war.

But I can't do that. Any personal feelings I may have must always be pushed aside. This is my path, and one I could never give up on.

[It isn't comforting, and he knows it. It isn't an explanation Linhardt really needs either; he probably knows all of this already. Hubert hesitates.]

I never wanted to drag you into this. It would have happened at some point, surely, but my hope was that you would remain with your family. I don't know if you would have been safe there, but you would have been far away from the path Lady Edelgard and I walk.

[Maybe that's admitting too much. He finds he doesn't really care right now.]

Speaking strictly from a strategic standpoint, it would be ideal for you to continue focusing on both Faith and Reason. If everything were purely about strategy, however, Lady Edelgard and I would have created a very different approach.

I would like it if you pursued Faith magic exclusively. There are powerful spells that you can defend yourself with if necessary, but the abilities you'll gain in support will be indispensable. There are plenty of mages with talents in Reason magic, far less so in Faith.

[At least within this house, that is...]

There isn't much I can say to put your mind at ease. But Linhardt, you do remember the day you assisted me, correct? I had been pushing myself harder than usual in an attempt to further Lady Edelgard's goals. In the end, I cost us several days of recovery time. It wasn't productive to push myself that hard, and it only served to worry the people around me.

[...Except Lady Edelgard, who still doesn't know about that particular slip-up. It's fine. She doesn't need to know.]

If you cannot think of the people who will be worried about you when you hurt yourself like that, at least consider it from a practical standpoint. Who will be there to help us keep an eye on those in the monastery if you are unable to do so? You are our only other ally in these walls, Linhardt. You're already doing everything we require of you.

[The words still aren't comforting, and probably never will be. Even so, he does what he can and opens himself up just the tiniest bit in the process.]

[In a strange way, the way Hubert speaks to him is comforting.

Oh, it'd never be a comfort to anyone else; all they would see is an intimidating shadow of a man, who wouldn't have empathy for their issues at all, who they wouldn't even give the time of day to, much less even try to understand the point of view of. Linhardt can't say that he understands Hubert perfectly, or as much as Edelgard likely does, but he tries. He wants to try, because Hubert is his friend, he's someone who inspires a lot of odd feelings and makes him worry every now and again, he's someone who kills all too easily, but--]

Those people don't know anything about you, and quite frankly, they should mind their own business.

[It's the sole interjection Linhardt offers while Hubert talks, shortly after he mentions that people would find it repulsive and horrifying that he's killed others before. He doesn't look at Hubert's face, and really, Lin's...not really looking at anything, right now. Sure, he looks like he's looking pretty intently into that book of his, but...his expression is still in that weirdly unreadable state. It's odd, really, because his expression doesn't really change even if he definitely gives an indication that he's listening.

Linhardt's listening attentively to everything Hubert is saying, because even if the man is terrible at this, there is something Linhardt has learned.

He's so remarkably honest when he doesn't have to lie to get ahead. Linhardt trusts him, and all that he says; he knows that Hubert would have wanted him to be as far away from this path that he and Edelgard are carving for themselves. He knows that Hubert would want something different for him, if he were the ultimate deciding factor in this, and that alone is comforting. It's more consideration than most have ever given him in his life. Everything that Hubert has done for him has been something that nobody else has really tried, to understand him, going out of his way to apologize with his favorite things, comforting him with the knowledge that he's doing enough, that things would be different, that he cares, at least somewhat--

...When did his vision start to blur? It's practically swimming in front of him, but he doesn't feel lightheaded, or anything like that. So why...?]

...I do believe I understand, now, what you mean.

[Linhardt's tone is calm. Remarkably calm, for how fearful he had gotten towards the end.]

I think I truly needed it put into perspective, that being reckless wasn't going to solve any problems; all it would do is create them, and cost the both of you precious time that you need to realize your plans. And that I'm doing enough, to assist you both, with what I am already trying to accomplish.

[Oh, blinking solves the problem of that blurred vision very easily. He should have done that sooner. It's strange, though--is he sweating again? He feels something roll down his cheek...]

...And I appreciate your honesty, as well; I know you wouldn't give up on that path of yours for anything in the world, and I would never ask you to do such a thing. But to know what you would have done in an ideal situation...it's comforting to me; it goes a long way toward helping me feel at ease. [...] You are always so incredibly honest, when you don't have any orders not to be. Did you know that? I always liked that about you.

[He still does. That goes without saying.]

Ah, but I'm blathering. What I mean to say is...I hear you, loud and clear. I am thankful for your understanding. I will do everything I can to properly pace myself, so I don't cost either of you vital information--and so that I may be able to assist you both properly, when the time comes.

[Ah, the sweat is coming down again...he'd need to clean off his face at some point. He can't be bothered to do it right now. He'll just have to deal with it.]

...Thank you, Hubert. I am very glad to call you my friend, and I won't allow this to happen to myself again.

[...He doesn't even realize he's been crying this entire time. Linhardt hasn't cried since he was a child, and he's never really cried like a normal person once his childhood was over; his face would always be that unreadable expression, as it has been for quite some time, and the tears would just...roll, despite himself. There's no hitches of breath, no shuddering, stuttering tone, nor any real indication that he was breaking down. The only way one would know is if they looked directly at his face, and noticed.

It's been a long time since this has happened, and he doesn't really even realize it. Perhaps he should be humiliated; Linhardt doesn't really seem to care either way. It's...strange, even after he's said his piece, and he's not sure he's said enough at this point, but he knows he hears Hubert. He knows that he's trying.

And that's more than most have ever been willing to do for him, and he's grateful.]

Edited 2019-08-13 05:56 (UTC)

[Hubert's eyes remain on the books, and he's very tempted to reach out to flip one open, just to give himself something to do with his hands. It's a terrible habit of his, one he has done his best to train himself out of over the years. Fidgeting does quite a lot to dispel the intimidating front he puts on, after all. Even though it wouldn't matter here - he has no reason to intimidate Linhardt and he doesn't want to - he still finds himself refusing to give in to the temptation.

It isn't that he's not focused on Linhardt, but his attention is elsewhere and he misses when the crying starts. All he knows is one minute everything is fine (awkward, but fine) and the next tears are rolling down Linhardt's face and he's entirely unsure of what caused it.

Hubert understands crying a lot better than most people would think, though he can't recall the last time he cried.

No, it was Lady Edelgard that was often brought to tears. When they were little, she used to cry so easily. Over the years she trained herself out of it, but back then... Well, to be honest, he never really learned what to do when Lady Edelgard had cried in front of him. Even as a child he was terrible at this, and sometimes when she got so worked up and upset, she'd sit next to him and sob into his shoulder. Eventually he had learned it was okay to touch her - to pat her back or if she was feeling particularly needy, to wrap his arms around her.

They had been children, but even now he remembers it all too clearly.

It isn't appropriate to do the same for Linhardt. It wouldn't have been appropriate if this was Lady Edelgard bursting into tears, so of course it isn't something he should do. But the urge is there, stronger than it ever was when Lady Edelgard cried.

He knows he's staring - his expression a bit too open and honest and confused - but he can't find the words he needs or wants right now. Comfort has never come easily to him, and he doesn't understand why Linhardt's crying in the first place.]

...Linhardt.

[It isn't harsh, it isn't demanding. It's not comforting or gentle either, but nothing about Hubert is or ever will be.]

I didn't mean to upset you. I...

[The words dry up in his throat. They always do when it comes to apologies. His gaze darts and he shifts, fingers absently going to the hem of his glove before he stops himself and reconsiders.

He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket instead, offering it to Linhardt without another word.]

...Huh?

[Linhardt sounds genuinely confused, honestly kind of surprised when Hubert actually speaks up, finally turning to actually look at him and finding himself utterly confused by the assertion--had Hubert upset him? No, he's pretty sure that he was...honestly kind of relieved by what Hubert said, so why is he offering him a handkerchief...???

He'll. He'll take it, though he looks very confused. Despite, you know, the tears still kind of coming down, but. Nobody ever said Linhardt was emotionally competent.

(Congratulations, Hubert, you're actually more competent than Linhardt in this regard.)]

Thank you...? I don't believe you upset me, but I was feeling a little sweaty...it might just be the fever acting up again.

[Yes, that's it. It's not any sort of emotions going on. It's just the fever, he's sure, as he wipes his face off some.

...I'm so sorry.]

[...]

Linhardt, you're crying.

[He didn't exactly plan on saying it, but there it is anyway, with all the subtlety and grace of a iron axe to the face.]

Are you truly not aware...?

[He's not sure if Linhardt was trying to pretend he wasn't crying or if he's just. that. emotionally dumb.

...But since he asked, he's pretty sure Linhardt's that emotionally dumb.]

[... ... ...

Linhardt just kind of touches his face a few times, as if he's trying to actually find out whether he's crying or not. It's kind of awkward, really, and Linhardt is the most openly confused he's ever been in his life.

...With tears still coming down, how is this happening--]

...I thought I was sweating due to the fever acting up again...?

[Congratulations, Hubert. Linhardt is exactly that emotionally dumb.]

Well. I can't say I ever expected this to happen.

[LIN CAN YOU NOT SOUND SO GOD DAMN CALM WHILE DOING THIS???]

[...And here he thought he was the most emotionally stupid person in the Black Eagles house...]

Have you never cried before?

[It's probably rude to ask, but he's really interested, okay.]

Oh, no, I cried when I was a child. [Beat. He actually has to think about this.] ...Well, no, actually, I'm quite sure I stopped when I was fairly young...? I must have been about...four or five...

[...]

Hm. Caspar did use to give me strange looks whenever I fell, from time to time, or got otherwise hurt.

[...h m]

This is a curious case...

[LIN]

...And here I thought I was the strange one between us.

[it's true but he really shouldn't say it???]

Don't let it concern you too much. Under difficult circumstances most people are prone to crying. It seems this was weighing on you heavier than I had anticipated.

[It's not an apology, but he at least has the decency to look slightly sorry about it.]

You don't feel sad, though...?

No, I'd say we're about even. I suppose, at least.

[ah, there's the lack of tact again

Still, Linhardt does listen, and...that honestly does sound very fair. It must have been eating at him far more than he realized; honestly, when he realized he had so much to say, that's...probably when he should have realized that this was stressing him out a lot more than he anticipated.

Hubert's question gets a firm shake of the head, however.]

No, not at all. That's why I was so confused. [...He actually takes a second to think about it, bless him, he's trying.] I truly feel relieved by what you told me.

[...And kind of touched??? Like he's made it clear nobody goes this far out of their way for him, and Hubert's gone exceedingly far, many times. Lin really appreciates it?]

Oh, I see. Sometimes people do cry when they're happy.

[He says, sounding like this is the weirdest fucking thing...]

Relief could do it too, I suppose. I'm glad to hear it wasn't anything upsetting, at least.

[That gets him to relax a little.]

...All be told, I don't know if there would actually be a difference between something upsetting or something relieving. In regards to my ability to cry, anyway.

[...Lin that's probably not comforting...]

But oh, no, it wasn't anything like that at all. [Beat.] You know, you say that you don't understand my concerns, and yet you always seem able to show an incredibly amount of understanding towards them. I think that's incredibly kind of you--and that you should give yourself more credit.

[LIN OH MY GOD YOU'RE GONNA KILL THE MAN...]

[HE IS A TERRIBLE PERSON, HE DOESN'T DESERVE THIS]

I wouldn't go so far as to call any of that kind...

[He says, like this is the weirdest damn thing he's ever heard. Seriously, who would have ever thought of calling him kind??]

I'm only doing what I think is best, that's all.

["kind"...............]

[UNFORTUNATELY, LIN DOES THINK HE DESERVES THIS

ACCEPT RESPONSIBILITY]

Well, then I think that says something about "what you think is best", doesn't it? [He seems convinced, at any rate] It takes someone with a wonderfully kind heart to go out of their way, time and time again, to care for someone, ensure that they're taking care of themselves, and help them should they falter.

I think that takes someone incredibly kind-hearted, deep down, to be able to do that.

[...He winds up picking up the bear and hugging it a bit, with a pretty soft smile on his face.]

[ohhhhhhhh my god

He shifts a bit, folding one arm beneath the over and pressing a hand over the lower half of his face as he glances away, as if that will somehow hide just how flushed he is. It's a tight, closed-off posture that speaks volumes to just how much this has flustered him.]

Don't be ridiculous. It isn't as though I'm this "kind" with everyone. You just happen to be on the receiving end of it more often.

[His voice does a pretty good job of not reflecting how much he wants to die and be dead right now. His posture's giving away entirely too much though, and he's fully aware of it.]

[...Oh no??? Oh no, this is actually kind of...precious...]

Well, of course you aren't. It's not like everyone is deserving of it in your eyes, right?

[He starts to lean over the bed a bit, trying to get a closer look at Hubert, just keeping that smile on his face.]

That just means that it means quite a lot to me when you are that kind. You don't need to be so embarrassed about it.

[Come on, man, don't tell him you have an allergy for this kind of stuff!!]

[This is so embarrassing... He doesn't do well with this sort of thing...]

I'm not embarrassed.

[He says, while very obviously being embarrassed.]

Do you need something to eat? I can go get you something.

[please let him escape...]

Truly? Then your reaction really is most fascinating to beho--

[...The sad part is that Linhardt is entirely serious when he says that much, looking more curious than anything, but Hubert does bring up a good point. One that Linhardt is about to deny until there's a bit of an audible growl from his stomach.]

...Ah, I suppose I am. Hurry back though, won't you? And get yourself something too; I imagine you must be hungry as well.

[He's hoping Hubert's still redfaced by the time he gets back so he can ask him more questions about it!!

(If he doesn't get engrossed in his books, which seems likely.)]

[Oh thank the goddess. Hubert's quick to stand up and nod, not even giving any sort of other response before leaving.

...Obviously he takes some time to calm down before actually venturing out in public, because he'd rather die than let anyone else see him this flustered.

It doesn't take long to obtain food and return; he'll place the tray in front of Linhardt and pick his own plate off of it before returning to the desk. There aren't any more chocolates this time, but there is a pastry that's probably filled with jelly or something else sweet.]

I hope you aren't too engrossed in your research.

[It's light, and everything seems back to normal like that conversation earlier didn't happen. It's fine. Don't call him "kind" ever again.]

[Linhardt's pretty well into his reading by the time Hubert comes back, at any rate. Because Linhardt lives and breathes books, practically, it's probably no surprise that he's got his nose buried by the time Hubert's at the door. He will put the book down, though, to make room for the tray--just in time for his eyes to catch that little pastry.]

Oh--thank you. This is quite delightful. More than worth putting my research aside, for a moment or two.

[This time he'll actually be a good boy and eat his food first, don't worry Hubie. He only looks a little put out that Hubert isn't flushed anymore; it was honestly kind of adorable...

...Still, he does take the opportunity to be a little sneaky and get a glimpse of what Hubert's got while he eats--what did he get? Maybe he can try to remember it for another time...]

[He looks pleased with that, turning to his food. He's picked up something relatively simple - enough to be filling, but nothing particularly fancy. The dining hall was serving fish today, so that's what he's got. Linhardt obviously has the food he likes - as if Hubert wouldn't know that by now?]

I hope you enjoy it. With any luck, you'll be feeling well enough to make your way to the dining hall soon enough.

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