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[Truthfully speaking, this Ball was nothing more than a glorified dance class in Linhardt's mind. They were practically obligated to attend and partake, dancing with people and exchanging smiles and pleasantries; a ball like this was at least somewhat important to the nobility, Linhardt was sure, but as far as he was concerned? He had no business here, and the first chance he could get out, he took gladly.

He wasn't altogether sure about where to go, honestly; he could certainly just turn in for the night on his bed, or get back to his crest research, but there was another curiosity that he wanted to take a look at; the Goddess Tower. The details were a little fuzzy in Linhardt's mind, but he had heard some so-called rumors about what happened within the tower. Something interesting would happen if two people entered the tower...was it that they would be blessed by the Goddess if they shared a vow, or that they would be cursed for defiling her tower? Linhardt couldn't really recall off the top of his head, as it wasn't a topic that interested him too much, but...well, it was an interesting research opportunity and there was certainly a first time for everything.

But of course, he knew very well he wasn't exactly destined for much in the love department. As far as he was concerned, the Goddess Tower would be a once in a lifetime napping spot, and Linhardt intended to take the bait. It was surprisingly quiet, though he didn't doubt that there were people waiting to come in and try to find their 'true love', as they would likely call it. Linhardt finds his way to a nice spot within the tower, settling himself in for what's likely to be an interesting sleep, if nothing else.

Who knows, maybe he'll get to eavesdrop on some unlucky sap within the tower before he nods off, or perhaps even hear someone find the love of their life. The latter would certainly be a nice thought, for one of the others, perhaps. That would at least be interesting to hear...]

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[He nods at that, looking pleased. Linhardt may not fully understand it, but he's seen enough of them at this point to know just how important his relationship with Her Majesty is.]

Of course. I imagine your trip left you tired.

[Even though he slept on the way here...]

Come with me. Your room is nearby. If you need anything, I'll likely be in here for some time.

[He stands and gestures for Linhardt to follow him before leading him off to one of the bedrooms nearby. It's a nicely-furnished room, the sort of place that's comfortable enough for a military base, though still preferring function over fashion.]

Good night, Linhardt. Try not to oversleep.

[It's a joke, and he smirks as he turns to leave.

Had everything gone according to plan, there would have been a strategy meeting about fortifying the fort's security and the transfer of troops from other regions to bolster security. Losing Fort Merceus would be a devastating blow, and not one Hubert will let happen. If everything had gone as he hoped, the meeting would have been relatively quick and he would have spent the remainder of the day organizing soldiers, handling paperwork and letters to the nobles in the area for their support, and otherwise securing the region.

Things often have a way of falling apart right when they really shouldn't, however. Before the meeting can happen, reports of an attack are circulating and Hubert - operating on less sleep than he would have liked - is already roused and ready to take the front lines himself. It's easier to command when he has an idea of who the enemy is, after all.

And besides, Linhardt is here. It would be unacceptable to put him in harm's way. The enemy must be eliminated, and quickly. Preferably before Linhardt wakes.

Hubert is able to ascertain that the rag-tag army isn't bandits, as reported to him, but rather a group of rebels. They aren't exactly a threat; their numbers are far too low to deal any significant damage and they seem disorganized, as though led by someone without much experience in commanding. Despite their flaws there is one thing very wrong with this situation.

He can't pinpoint their leader. While he's out raining dark spells on the enemy, their leader has already slipped by Hubert's usually exceptional defenses. In his rush to secure the fort and ensure Linhardt's safety, he's completely managed to miss the leader sneaking in.]

[Unfortunately for everyone involved, things have a habit of not working out when they're unexpected.

Linhardt had managed to fall asleep quite easily in the fort, despite the feelings churning within him. If this were a better day, he'd likely sleep until Hubert inevitably had to come try to wake him up, due to Linhardt sleeping like a log for the most part. An easily disturbed log, but a log none the less. For most of the fight, he's blissfully asleep, the sounds of battle but an echo in his dream, if even apparent.

That all falls by the wayside the second that the enemy leader manages to find his room, and Linhardt wakes with a horrific start as he barely dodges a lance to his chest by rolling out of bed, undignified and still clutching Nyx until he realizes just who the wielder of said lance is.

He's surprised to find Caspar on the opposing side; they've never fought against one another a day in their lives, after all, and Linhardt does everything he can to try to fend off Caspar with Nosferatu. Caspar's gotten incredibly good at fighting, and even moreso at staying quiet; they both talk while they fight, Linhardt wondering even why this is happening, and he can barely even register Caspar's reasoning. He wants Caspar to stand down, to put his lance down and talk, to be able to convince his friend to join his side so he won't have to kill him--

Caspar gets the upper hand, when the fight is forced into the hallway outside of the room he was staying in. Linhardt trips over his own nightclothes onto the floor, and he's pretty sure he dropped the damn bear at some point because he feels both of his hands go up to try and protect himself when Caspar attempts to land the finishing blow.

It doesn't come.

It doesn't come, because Linhardt casts magic in an attempt to protect himself, and Cutting Gale is an exceedingly potent spell. It's excessive; excessively forceful, excessively windy, excessively against everything that Linhardt stands for, and yet it's only short of Bolganone and Excalibur in terms of his lines of defense against an enemy.

Caspar's sent flying, and there's a sickening crack as he hears his friend hit the wall at a pace that shouldn't even be possible, and Linhardt makes the mistake of opening his eyes to see Caspar's body falling off of the wall, peeling off like old paint. There's, perhaps thankfully, not as much blood as there could be, but it's still there, coming from his head where it hit the wall, and--

Linhardt doesn't know when it became so hard to breathe. He's not sure if he's hallucinating footsteps that are going in the opposite direction--he's not sure if they're friend or foe. He's not registering anything except the sight of his friend's dead body on the ground, and it's clutching his chest and crushing him alive with shock.

What has he just done?]

[The report of an intruder comes surprisingly quickly, and were this any other day and any other situation, Hubert might actually be impressed with his own soldiers. Well, their ability to be quick about getting him information, at least, not so much literally anything else.

A lone intruder can't do much damage, but when the soldier finishes the report by saying that the man was spotted heading in the direction of the war room... Well, Hubert's thoughts probably aren't where they should be. One man cannot take down a fort, no matter how powerful, and waltzing into the enemy's stronghold would only mean his death. His priorities should be on fending off the remaining rebels, but it isn't. There's only one thing he can focus on.

Linhardt.

Hubert is by no means the quickest fighter, and certainly not the sort to go sprinting across the battlefield for any reason when he could just use long range attacks, but he quickly gives orders to the others and takes off back toward the war room. His heart pounds in his throat the entire time and all he can do is hope that he's not too late.

Stupid, stupid, stupid; how could he make a mistake like this?

He doesn't arrive in time to see Caspar hit the wall, he only arrives after all is said and done. He recognizes the blue hair - how could he not? - but he doesn't care that Caspar's dead. He would have gladly killed his former classmate himself if he'd been presented the opportunity. No, he's more worried about...]

...Linhardt.

[He doesn't sound as out of breath as he actually is, and he's quick to close the rest of the way between them, standing between Linhardt and Caspar's body. It isn't a particularly gruesome sight, but given the scene, he's got a good guess what happened.]

Are you hurt? Can you stand?

[They aren't comforting words, but they're questions he needs answered so he can figure out how to proceed from here.]

[Linhardt doesn't really even register Hubert at first; he registers footsteps, perhaps frantic ones coming towards him, or just someone coming in to finish the job, but he doesn't even seem to think to look at Hubert when he asks his questions. He doesn't really even register that there are questions at first, all Linhardt can do is stare at Caspar's lifeless body. His friend, his damn friend.

He did this. He killed Caspar. He took his friend's life, and there's no escaping from that, and the scent of blood, and everything about war that makes his skin crawl--

Linhardt winds up standing and shaking his head, after a solid amount of time has passed; a likely concerning amount to Hubert. His gaze doesn't leave Caspar's body, and words...well, words aren't happening right now. His whole body is shaking something fierce, but the worst Linhardt looks is roughed up some.]

[Linhardt has never liked fighting. He pursued Faith magic because he never wanted to kill, and now...

Caspar lies dead, and there is nothing that can be done for him now. Whatever happened that led to this, it ended in Caspar dying and that is something Linhardt will never be able to forgive himself for - assuming he's even able to process it to begin with.

He can't say he understands, but he knows enough to know that Linhardt can't be here right now.]

Come with me.

[It's an order, firm and resolute. He doesn't wait for Linhardt to respond, instead he grips the other man's shoulder firmly. He'll turn Linhardt around and pull him close. That hand doesn't move from Linhardt's shoulder as he marches them both forward and away from Caspar's body. It doesn't matter where they go, they just need to be as far away from here - and the battle - as they can get.

There aren't any words. He doesn't have any that could comfort Linhardt and he's not sure the other man is registering much right now anyway.

Hubert brings them to a stop once they've reached one of the fort's towers. This one is empty right now, and the thick stones muffle any sounds of a clash still ongoing outside. They won't be found here for awhile yet, and he can deal with the reports and finishing off the rest of the rebels then. They should all be killed, not routed, but he can't focus on that right now. He can't deal with the things that probably should be his top priority, because Linhardt is...

Well, Linhardt isn't doing much of anything, is he?

Hubert doesn't let go of his shoulder, or try to move away. It's nothing so intimate as a hug, but it's close proximity and for now that's the best he can offer.

Now if only he could keep his hands from shaking.]

[He's moving.

That's all Linhardt can register, really, is that he's moving. He's moving away from the body (Caspar's body), and his mind is playing through every version of the scenario in his head as they walk, replaying the moments again and again, every single thing Linhardt tried to say to get Caspar to stand down and put his lance down, everything that lead up to that sickening crack and the realization that he just murdered his friend in cold blood.

He doesn't even know why they're in the tower when his vision starts to blur, and he comes...well, not back into reality; not yet, at least. It takes a solid several minutes for Linhardt's eyes to not be so wide, practically unseeing, before his expression settles into that weird, unreadable calm that is more concerning than anything, usually. His eyes seem almost...dead, in a way they're usually not; dulled significantly, and looking like they're gazing a thousand miles away.]

...Caspar's dead. He's gone.

[Linhardt's tone is calm, free of any hitches of breath or wavering. It's perhaps unsettling to see, or perhaps a prelude of what's to come as he feels his vision start to blur again, his eyes beginning to shine with a telltale sign that he's about to break.]

Edited 2019-08-14 06:40 (UTC)

[He moves a bit, so he can get a better look at Linhardt's face with those words. It isn't the first time he's seen someone so shellshocked from killing, but it never gets any easier. Usually he'd leave that to someone else, someone with more compassion and empathy, someone who can understand and address the problem—

No, someone who can help.

He doesn't have the luxury of that now, and even if he did, he couldn't bear the thought of leaving Linhardt with anyone else right now.]

Yes, he is.

[That's not comforting or helpful. But he sees no reason to shield Linhardt from the truth either.]

Linhardt, what happened was... [necessary] ...an accident. Do you understand?

[It isn't your fault, he wants to say. You did what you had to. Neither of those are helpful.

He never should have had to fight Caspar. He never should have gotten in, or found Linhardt, or forced him into this situation to begin with. He could have killed Linhardt. This shouldn't have happened, he should have never let this happen...

But just as before, the apology he needs to deliver doesn't come. His grip tightens on Linhardt's shoulder.]

Edited 2019-08-14 06:50 (UTC)

[Linhardt registers the grip tightening, and he's at least registering words; he's not really doing anything that isn't just shaking like a leaf and attempting to process everything that happened (the hammering thought in his head "it's all your fault, it's all your fault, it's all your fault" playing over and over again) but he's...trying, if that can even be called that.

Linhardt gotten so used to the idea of killing others if it was necessary. He'd made his peace with that, with the knowledge that he'd be killing others, but that it would be worth it when the empire's dream came into fruition.

He didn't realize that he never mentally prepared himself for the thought of killing his friends.]

...No. It wasn't an accident.

[There are those calm, even words again. Linhardt blinks and his vision unblurs ever so slightly as a tear falls down his cheek.]

Caspar had gotten into the room where I was sleeping. I don't know how he got in, but he had managed it. It was by luck alone that I avoided him driving a lance into me while I slept.

[...]

I tried to talk to him. I tried to convince him to lay down his weapon. To talk to him and try to get him to back down, so this didn't have to come to bloodshed.

It was the first time we had ever fought. I had hoped he would listen to me.

I tripped. I fell backwards onto the floor, and he intended to finish me off then and there. I raised my hands to defend myself, and...

[...Well, he doesn't have to go much further than that, does he? Honestly, he doesn't even clearly remember the situation, and it's...actually kind of terrifying to him, that one second Caspar was there, and then the next, he was peeling off the wall.

The tears are coming down even harder as Linhardt's gaze goes down to his shaking hands, and he's...never felt this lost before in his life.]

[Hubert listens, and though he can tell exactly where this is going, he doesn't interrupt. Linhardt's managing to get it all out, but the tears only prove just how horrible this whole thing really is. Is he aware he's crying? Is this like before, when he didn't recognize it, or is he in shock and unable to react properly?

It doesn't matter what it is, and without really thinking about it, Hubert moves.

He pulls Linhardt close, holding him tightly.]

You did what you had to do to defend yourself. I know that's of no comfort now, but you're still alive.

[The words are soft, almost barely audible.]

I'm afraid I've never been any good at this, and I doubt there's anything I can say that would comfort you now. But I will be right here, for as long as you need me.

[Nothing in the world could tear him away now.]

--Ah...alive...

[Linhardt isn't honestly sure what to think at first; one second he's staring at his hands, and the next second he feels like he's being pressed into something (something warm, he notes), and it takes a few seconds to properly react, the soft noise escaping Linhardt as he tries to properly understand what just happened.

And...why he feels warm? And almost safe, in a sense, but...

There isn't much of a response for a few moments, but Linhardt's gaze goes up to Hubert when he speaks, and he doesn't know when he started to turn himself a bit in Hubert's grasp, enough so that he could bury his face in the man's chest, but soon he's clinging to Hubert for dear life and Hubert can start to feel Linhardt shuddering.

He doesn't sob. He doesn't bawl, or cry out, or do anything other than cling to the man, his breathing shallow and labored as the tears come down practically as a stream. This is awful, all of this is awful and it's finally hitting him in all of the worst ways and he hates this--]

You're here. You're...here. That's... [Goddess above, his words are shaky, but he's trying.] That's...enough. For me. It always has been.

Edited 2019-08-14 07:21 (UTC)

[It's probably a good thing that Linhardt is starting to process this, even if that involves more tears and clinging. The latter doesn't really bother him, actually, although he's never been one for physical contact. He hadn't minded it from Lady Edelgard when they were children, but that was such a long time ago. After that...

Well, there wasn't anything after that. So it's a little strange, but not unwelcome. What's important right now is that he's here for Linhardt.]

I am, and I won't leave. You're safe with me. I will protect you, no matter what.

[It isn't a promise he can make, and they both know it. Were it necessary to send Linhardt to the front lines for Her Majesty to succeed, he would. No, it goes beyond that. Were it necessary to sacrifice Linhardt - or to kill him personally - Hubert would. He absolutely would.

The thought makes him feel sick.

That doesn't matter now, though. Right now, he's here, and Linhardt's here, and nothing in the world is going to come between them. He's safe, he's fine, he's still alive.

His grip tightens.]

[He knows it's a promise Hubert can't make--deep down, Linhardt knows that very well. It's why he works so hard to be indispensable, to be what Edelgard needs him to be, so that he can at least try to make sure it won't be necessary for him to die.

Between that, and the thoughts swirling in his head about the consequences of his actions--House Hevring's relations with House Bergliez are going to become more strained, if not fall apart. Hubert probably has to tell her about this incident, and he doesn't look forward to trying to explain all of this to her. Nor his parents, or anyone who asks, really. It hurts, all of it hurts.

Linhardt does everything he can to try to be less tense, to let himself sink into Hubert's warm, protective grasp. He feels so safe and sound; at least here in his arms, nothing will come between them. No soldiers, no rebels, no red haired nobles with an inability to have any tact--]

Don't you dare leave me behind.

[Linhardt knows he can't order Hubert around, and that fate isn't as easy to order as either of them think, but...

He needs this, right now.]

...I can't lose you, Hubert. I want to be strong enough to protect you, too...I know I must become that strong. But...please...

I won't.

[That is somehow even less of a promise he can keep. If it were up to him, he'd lock Linhardt away somewhere no one could hurt him, somewhere he wouldn't have to see the fighting or the injuries and death in the aftermath. He'd be safe and secure and he could have all day to research or nap or do whatever he wanted.

But it isn't up to Hubert, and Linhardt is very useful. His Faith magic will undoubtedly prove indispensable on the battlefield, and yet the very idea of putting Linhardt in the middle of that sends chills down his spine.

He's so close to sorting this all out. He has the last piece of the puzzle - he's had it for some time now - all he needs to do is put it into place and he'll understand everything there is to about his relationship with Linhardt.

But just like every time before, he refuses. Now isn't the time.]

You will not lose me. Nothing in this world could stop me from helping fulfill Her Majesty's ambitions. I will not die on you, I promise.

[That's also something he can't promise, and they both know it. But he feels more confident in giving that answer. Battles are unpredictable, but he's usually an excellent tactician with exceptionally dangerous long range magic. He should be fine. There shouldn't be any reason to worry.]

I don't ever want you to have to see battle. I don't need you to be my shield, I need you to be safe.

[Is that admitting too much? He shouldn't bring his personal feelings into this, should he?]

I don't know where I'd be without you, Linhardt.

[There's something so candid and sincere in those admissions; they offer him warmth, promises, and truths that Linhardt would never have thought would be uttered by Hubert. It's doing something to him, it's making his chest ache in a way that Linhardt isn't even sure how to put into words. It feels like the puzzle in his head has been tipped over the table, the pieces scattering onto the floor, and perhaps the wind has caught them and scattered them in all sorts of different directions.

It's leaving Linhardt surprisingly vulnerable, if he wasn't already; he's so used to being able to pinpoint these sort of things. He's been used to hypotheses, being able to see where point A meets point B and so forth, and yet the strange thoughts and feelings that churn through him--it's too much. All of it's slowly becoming too much for him, and Linhardt clings just a bit tighter and shudders. Everything's just too much, and his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. He's not sure if Hubert can hear it, but...

Linhardt finally moves his head a bit, and he looks up at Hubert after finally falling...well, somewhat still, the shaking not abating entirely. His eyes are still a little dull and unfocused, and his face is red from crying in earnest for the first time in years.]

I...don't know where I would be without you either, Hubert. The thought of such a thing...it scares me. I don't even want to think about how facing this without you would be. You've become someone indispensable to me.

[...His head winds up going back down, attempting to rest against Hubert in a way that allows one of his ears to lay against his chest. It's strange to seek it out, he's sure, but he's trying to hear Hubert's heart. If he can't, he can't though, and he'll move his head out of the way.]

It's...why I want us to be able to create this world that Her Majesty seeks. I want us to be able visit one another, without the need to prepare for battle; perhaps to read together, or perhaps to fish...or even work together to bring prosperity...

[He sounds like he's starting to doze off, regardless of where his head lies. He's so tired after all of these emotions. He wants them all to quiet down, to run away for a little while longer from this, even if he knows it isn't feasible.

There's something in his tone when he speaks again; it's not quite determination, but...it sounds like there's something there. The kindling of a small fire.]

...I have to face this, Hubert. I know I do, in order to help you both bring about that future. [...] I...I want to. Even if I don't know how.

[He listens to it all without interruption. Linhardt's words are comforting, though if he's perfectly honest with himself, he's not sure why. It isn't as though he needed the confirmation that he's important to Linhardt - he's known that since the man agreed to come with him, to see Her Majesty's will through. Devotion like that doesn't come along easily. It surely would test any bond, much less a newly-formed one.

But Linhardt chose them - chose him - and here they are now. Even though it's difficult, and even though he's terrified of losing Linhardt, he wouldn't have it any other way.]

...I'm proud of you.

[Praise isn't exactly uncommon from Hubert - at least not to those who have earned it - but it's not often he phrases it like this.]

You've become so focused and so strong. You've already been through far too much, and yet you still stand firm with us.

You don't have to know exactly what to do. That's my job. Yours is to support us, to handle the things Her Majesty and I cannot. I have difficulty imagining how this war would be going were you not here for us.

["I'm proud of you."

It's amazing what four little words can do to him--warmth floods his face, and it reddens further than what his crying had done to him. It's almost embarrassing, but those words of praise...they mean so much to him, since he knows Hubert is so honest. It makes him happy--enough to shudder, just a bit, before easing and closing his eyes in contentment.]

...Thank you. It means the world to me to hear you say that...to hear that my efforts haven't been for naught. If it means that this world will be beautiful, when this is all over...I'll do whatever it takes. I'll support you both however I can--however you both wish me too.

[His words are almost reverent in nature; how could they not, at this point? He's never been one to dedicate himself to anything that didn't earn his interest or his passion, and it's safe to say that this cause has earned both.

It takes a couple of minutes, for Linhardt to speak once he's said that much; the next words are a lot more drowsy, as if he's starting to drift off.]

...You truly are so incredibly warm...

It will be. Her Majesty will save this world.

[He's absolutely convinced of that. It's good to hear Linhardt is too. He's always known that Linhardt will follow what passion consumes him, it's just good to see he's put it toward something so useful.

He shifts a little at Linhardt's words, his hands finding Linhardt's lower back to support him in case he does end up drifting off.]

I am human, you know. I'm not quite sure what else you were expecting.

[It's gentle, and Linhardt can likely hear the laughter in the words. It's certainly never bothered him before.]

Go ahead and rest. I'll be here for you when you wake.

[~~it seems after all of this time, hubert finally fucking won out, that's it, that's their a support~~

Oh, that feels nice...Linhardt allows himself to lean a little more against Hubert, in that case, as he doe what he can to fall asleep. To think months ago, that Hubert recoiled so harshly when he had done it unintentionally...Linhardt kind of finally sees why his subconscious self wanted to doze off against Hubert. For a man who carves a blood red path, he's a wonderful pillow.]

I wasn't expecting you to be so comfortable...it's very nice...

[Sleep addles his voice a bit as sleep finds him; there's some mumbled words before he falls asleep, very soft, but...]

It feels...rather like home...

[...And perhaps to his credit, Linhardt doesn't stir at all while he sleeps. He's far too comfortable to.]

[~~can't believe it took them this long to reach the a support~~

Home, huh... Considering the home Linhardt came from, he can only consider that a compliment. It's comforting to have Linhardt pressed against him like this, where he will be safe from harm - from anything. In the end, the person Hubert trusts the most is himself, and Linhardt is safest by his side.

But he can't forget the rest of the world forever, and once Linhardt has nodded off, he moves to lift the other man and carry him back to his quarters. Under most circumstances, he would have taken Linhardt to his own; he could carry out his work from there and have all his supplies at the ready to draft a letter to Her Majesty and the local lords, but Linhardt will want to be around familiar surroundings when he awakes.

And most importantly, he'll want his bear by his side.

So he takes Linhardt back to his room, and regrettably has to leave for a bit once he's done with that. Caspar's body has already been moved, the bloodstains scrubbed clean. The battle's already over, the rebellion quelled and the fort is silent once again. It's foolish to think that this will be the end of it, and Hubert has plenty of work to do now.

But he can take care of that in Linhardt's room; once he's settled everything he needs to with his commanders, he gathers what he needs from his own room and moves into Linhardt's.

It's a bit strange that only around a month ago he was doing exactly this in Linhardt's room at the academy. It feels like it's been such a long time. So much has changed. The world isn't the same place it once was, and it's all because of Her Majesty.

...No, that isn't fair. Her Majesty is the public figure that pushes this war forward, but they wouldn't have gotten this far without his help and Linhardt's. He meant what he said - Linhardt is an indispensable part of the team.

Things may not get easier from here on out, but as long as Linhardt's by his side, he has no doubts that he can face anything.]

[Time presses onward, and with it, the Empire's reign grows ever stronger. There's been much to do, in order to ensure that her rule goes well; it's resulted in them separating for an extended length of time in order to settle things within the many pieces of the empire. Where Hubert is sent to use force, to command the soldiers of the empire and take back or secure forts that needed the fortification, Linhardt is there to deal with the nobility and deal with inter-personal matters, along with researching into various things to help Edelgard. They may be getting rid of the crests, but there's still much to look into on them that could prove useful in the future.

Things are taking shape in all of the best ways, and Linhardt is more than happy to be at the center of it all; to help usher forth a new era for all of Fodlan.

Even he is human at the end of the day, however; he still naps whenever able, he still gets absorbed into things that he's doing to the point he might lose sleep over it, but he has been becoming more responsible, for both himself and in general. But even moreso, he misses those he's close to. That, however, was easily remedied; the letters he kept between Hubert were more than enough to keep that at bay.

He enjoyed keeping letters between Hubert; the code that the two of them kept for the sake of their communications was something Linhardt found a bit silly from time to time, but he honestly started to enjoy it the more he wrote with it. It was almost fun to utilize it, Linhardt found, and the messages that they sent back and forth between each other allowed them to keep tabs on each other and happenings in their territories. It proved they were still alive, and still working to keep their promises.

Linhardt had to admit, he looked forward to each one...and found himself saving each letter with a smile. His parents did tease a little bit, not knowing who the letters were coming from but being supportive...in a weird fashion (did they think he'd found a spouse??? couldn't he just communicate with his friend in peace?), but he kept the letters close at hand and kept prompt communications when he wasn't busy.

It's not until a summons from Edelgard that he manages to see the man again; it was meant to be a meeting of the minds, in some sense. It was almost like a roundtable meeting, and it was actually quite good to see some of the others again, seeing the subtle changes that time had imposed on them and himself.

Linhardt does wind up speaking with Edelgard herself for a bit, but she seems incredibly busy; it's on her suggestion that he seeks out Hubert while she works (though he's somewhat curious about the vaguely knowing look on her face? it almost looks annoyed, at least somewhat, but she all but pushes him out the door when he asks if there's anything he can assist with), and gives Linhardt directions where to go, since he's...not very familiar with the area, perhaps surprisingly.

The capitol is a rather grand place, he has to admit, but even with directions, Linhardt winds up getting very, very lost; he's mostly just attempting to find where ever he apparently needs to go, but he's also looking for Hubert just in general. He doesn't assume the man has changed too much, at least...

Linhardt himself has changed some; most of his clothing items are a nice, dark shade of green, and he looks almost scholarly now. His hair is ever well kept, though it's grown out some as well; it almost reaches his shoulders, barely beginning to drape over them. Of course, it's in that weirdly moody state where he's not sure how he wants to style it, but it's fine...he can deal with that in the future, maybe.

...As it stands, he's got plenty to deal with in the present because dear gods he's lost.]

Was it this way...? No, no, perhaps it was that way--

[He did not anticipate getting this lost.

(Edelgard possibly did. Hopefully.)]

[Six months have passed since the attack on the fort and Caspar's unfortunate (but necessary) death. Things have gone much more smoothly since then; the Empire is primarily under Lady Edelgard's control and they have expanded their sights to the kingdom to the north. Her Majesty had entrusted securing the kingdom to him, and it was through his negotiations with Cornelia that much of the kingdom is slowly bending a knee to the empire. As they should.

Of course, that doesn't mean his job is easy or safe. He's seen plenty of battles, and always come out on top. The red path he's cut through the kingdom in the name of Her Majesty's conquest is almost astounding, but considering just how many people he has at his disposal, it isn't surprising.

War is second nature to Hubert. He was never cut out to be a student at Garreg Mach, but commanding troops on a battlefield is something that comes so easily to him it's a bit frightening. Perhaps that's why Lady Edelgard allows him to work without interruption for the most part. He would prefer to be by her side and she knows it, so when she calls him back to the capital, he is all to eager to return.

Lady Edelgard isn't the only person he's missed, however. Linhardt is perpetually in his thoughts and whenever he has a spare moment to himself, he works on his letters. There isn't always important information to send, but even if the letters were nothing but updates on his battles, he would send them.

...After at least two or three revisions, of course. He cannot let any valuable information slip, but even more than that, he wouldn't wish to write anything that might upset or concern Linhardt. He misses his friend - so much it's almost painful.

But all that ends today. He's just arrived back in the capital and met with Her Majesty. Lady Edelgard had to dismiss him early, and gave him the very confusing hint that Linhardt was probably lost in the capital.

Considering how safe it is, there's no reason to worry about Linhardt being assassinated or anything of the sort, but his steps are still quick as he leaves.

He finds Linhardt near the gardens - a showy and bright display of flowers and nature fit perfectly into the front of a large stretch of shops and the like. The whole thing has never been of any interest to him, but he isn't surprised that Linhardt has found his way here. The place is always bustling and full of people, but at this time of day most of them are beginning to head home for the evening.]

Did Her Majesty direct you to the tea house? She's quite fond of it.

[He sounds faintly amused as he approaches, but his footsteps slow as he catches sight of Linhardt.

It's only been six months, and yet his friend has changed so much. The outfit is new - and it's as breathtaking on him as the one he wore to that party Ferdinand's father hosted so long ago. He looks positively scholarly, like he'd be perfectly at home in a library studying the hours away. His hair has grown out too, Hubert notes. It isn't styled the same way as it used to be, and while his old hairstyle was very cute, this one makes him look positively breathtaking.

Hubert has to remember to breathe.

Of course, Linhardt isn't the only one who has changed over the past six months. Hubert has changed his hairstyle as well - cutting it much shorter instead. He still has his bangs styled over his right eye, but they get in his way less than they used to and occasionally it's even possible to see that there's a perfectly functional eye under there, he just does it for the aesthetic. Speaking of aesthetic, he's traded out the academy uniform for something more military in design, but still taking cues from his mage classes. It isn't a uniform, but there are definitely military inspirations in the jacket's design. The cape is just to make him look more intimidating.]

...It's good to see you again, Linhardt.

[His voice thankfully does not reflect any of his inner thoughts, though the pause does last for far too long.]

[Linhardt could swear that his heart just jumped out of his chest and landed in the garden when he hears the voice he's been hoping to find.

Linhardt winds up turning almost immediately, his eyes catching sight of Hubert and he has to make sure he's not seeing things. The way his hair is cut...the outfit, that cape, all of it--it's actually gorgeous? Is that a word he could use to properly describe Hubert? Linhardt tries to think of other words, coming back to dashing and lovely, and that doesn't exactly help matters in the slightest. Linhardt finds himself staring too, so at the very least, the pause isn't so awkward because even Linhardt is struck by how he looks.

Linhardt has to try to remember to speak (and get the thoughts of Hubert as a tall, dark, mysterious vampire out of his head, because he makes the look surprisingly attractive), but he at least collects his thoughts and bows with some noble bearing and elegance to collect himself.]

So I was going in the proper direction! And here I had been worried that I was getting mindlessly lost in the Capitol...

[He picks himself up shortly after saying that, a smile coming easily onto his face.]

As it is you, my friend. It truly has been far too long since we've seen each other face to face...are you faring well?

[...They can talk about the tea house in a bit, he's gladly taking this excuse to just. Stare at Hubert gladly. He's not sure what is going on with his feelings, but he's actually enjoying it instead of being worried about it.]

You're headed the right way. Through the gardens, and take a right.

[He inclines his head a bit to indicate the general direction, but he makes no move to usher Linhardt along. They're alone here, and the sooner they start moving, the sooner he has to stop staring at Linhardt, which is clearly unacceptable.]

I am, yes. The trip back was as pleasant as any trip could be, and completely uneventful. It was almost too boring.

[It's clearly a joke, because he's pretty sure Linhardt wouldn't appreciate hearing him say he would have preferred a rebel attack or a bandit raid.]

And you? It seems you aren't very familiar with the capital.

What ever would I do without your splendid guidance?

[Linhardt absolutely makes no move to leave, however; that would involve leaving Hubert and no??? Absolutely not??? He doesn't wanna take his eyes off of Hubert, honestly. He's glad that Hubert's trip went so well, at the very least; no issues are good issues, as far as Linhardt is concerned.]

Oh, much the same for myself. I did sneak a nice nap along the way, however...really, I may need to ask Her Majesty if she would mind too terribly if I could utilize this place to nap deeply for a time. It's so wonderfully pleasant...

[Ah, but he is getting sidetracked. He looks a little sheepish when he addresses his lack of familiarity with the capital.]

That obvious? I'm afraid that I don't know my way around here very well. It's a very easy place to get lost in... [Linhardt pauses for a moment, as if considering his actions.] I'm afraid I may have to seek some help in wandering about.

[...there is a slight hint to his tone.]

[Oh don't worry, he caught it.]

Well, if you're in need of a guide, I suppose I could offer my services.

[you guys really think you're so slick, huh]

I'm sure Her Majesty wouldn't mind if you found some nice spots to nap here; your work has been incredibly important to her and I'm sure you could use a break every so often.

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