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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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[They are, he wants to say, but finds himself incapable of words. His grip on Linhardt tightens instead and he rounds the last corner and bursts into the infirmary.

The healer on duty jumps and in moments she's on her feet and helping Hubert set Linhardt down on a cot. She wastes no time in getting to work; the familiar glow of Faith magic is comforting.

Linhardt won't die, not from blood loss at least. There's still the potential threat of the Alliance soldiers taking the fort, but he's fairly certain his own troops will win. Still, he positions himself near the door, where he can keep an eye on the hallway. At least, that was the plan, but even as he leans against the wall, arms folded, he finds himself staring at Linhardt more often than he would like.

He's alive, and he's going to live. He can feel his hands shaking and it takes all of his willpower to get them to stop.

The nurse does all that she can for Linhardt as he lingers near the door; she doesn't even look over to acknowledge him. It feels like an eternity passes, but eventually she pulls back, after having wrapped Linhardt's leg in proper bandages. She explains that he'll have to remain here for a few days until she can be sure the injury has healed and won't reopen, and it may take him a bit to walk properly again. The injury was bad, but she was able to get to it quickly enough that he shouldn't be left with anything more than some scarring.

With that said, she bows and departs for the back rooms, making up some excuse about how she has more work to do. It's probably obvious to her that they need their space and privacy to talk.

But now that they're alone, Hubert finds that he doesn't have anything to say.

While he thought Linhardt was dying, he'd been convinced he needed to talk to the man, to apologize and explain himself and right the past wrongs, but now... Now he can't find a damn word to say. It seems wrong to try to launch into that now, after four years of silence. After four awkward years of avoiding one another when possible. And even if he did find a way to explain himself and apologize, what would it matter? Linhardt could never have seen him that way, could never have loved him.

Even now the word love threatens to stir feelings that have long been buried, feelings he thought he'd done a damn good job of strangling. It's ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. Yet he finds he's not angry, just deeply disappointed. In himself, certainly, but not for the reasons he'd expect.

Once again, he's entirely too much of a coward to do or say anything. He can't lower the walls he's spent so long building to keep people out because he never learned how to let people in. Even Her Majesty isn't privy to his trust like that. Perhaps all of this - his inability to speak now, his frightened reaction and four years of silence that followed - is because he doesn't know how to trust.

It doesn't really matter, does it? It's not as though anything can fix what he's done. So he dismisses the thought - or at least tries to - and glances out at the hallway again, trying to make it look like he's intent on keeping watch.]

[The air in this room is practically suffocating him, and Linhardt's not sure if it's the stress of the battle or the stress of being close to someone he was content on severing ties with. On running away from, because Linhardt's just as guilty of running away from his problems--how many nights has he spent, tossing and turning, trying to put everything out of his mind? To put out the fact that his heart ached so badly to at least try to talk to Hubert about what happened, to put out the fact that even if Hubert didn't love him back, he'd still just want him as his friend--perhaps even his best friend, if Hubert were so inclined.

How many nights has he spent clinging to Nyx, the only physical thing Hubert gave him that he's tried to get rid of so many times, only to wind up clinging to her at night when sleep couldn't find him?

Linhardt's mind wanders while the healer on duty mends him, and he can barely register her talking to him as his wound is mended--though he does offer her a tired smile once she's done, and a small whisper of thanks. Of course, then she leaves, and he's left alone with the reason these last four years have been hell incarnate.

There's a battle outside, there's the very real possibility that they could lose this fort and Hubert's just standing outside of his room. Menacingly. It'd be almost sweet if it didn't reopen old wounds--old reminders of the way things used to be, before those long, long years of silence. There's a sense of longing there that Linhardt can't ignore either, and he doesn't quite care for it. In some ways, he wishes his feelings could deaden and dry up like Hubert's did; it'd make the pain of this much easier to bear.

Linhardt's not sure what to say, and for a while, he doesn't--there's lingering bitterness, regret, all of the things left unsaid, and Linhardt doesn't know where to start.

He winds up saying the first thing on his mind.]

All of this effort for one person is rather excessive, don't you think?

[He curses, inwardly, but he knows this is how it should be. (He thinks this is how it should be.) Linhardt's tone is calm, attempting to flatten the barbs and press down the bitterness in his tone, and he doesn't even spare Hubert a glance.

He should really be back out there, securing the fort. That's more important than even Linhardt is, at this point.]

[He glances over when Linhardt speaks, and though his gaze lingers, his expression and posture show no indication of any impact the sharp words might have had on him. That doesn't mean there is none, it just means he's gotten good at hiding it.

He used to be good at hiding it, until he'd started to let Linhardt in. Now everything's been reset back to the way it should be.

The words do bother him, far more than he could ever let on. Linhardt is right. Of course he's right. He knows that all of this to save Linhardt is pointless; Linhardt may be important to their plans but he's not essential. He could be replaced if need be. Not that he'd want to try to find someone as intelligent or skilled, but in theory it could be done.

The idea almost makes him recoil.

It might seem like he's not going to respond - and he does consider just leaving it there without acknowledgement - but eventually he finds something to say as he turns his attention back to the hallway.]

For most people, yes. There aren't many who would be worth all this effort.

[Linhardt sucks a breath in, attempting to calm himself. Oh, what he'd give for a book to read, for something to distract him from how this is only serving to make his feelings act up more, and he hates it so much.

He wants Hubert to leave. (He wants Hubert to come in and close the door.) He wants Hubert to focus on securing the damn fort and not his borderline useless ass. (He wants Hubert to pick him up again and keep him there, despite all of the pain.) He wants to go back to forgetting about all of this and shut himself away to deal with noble bullshit. (He wants to tell Hubert how he feels, how he's felt, so badly it hurts--)]

Should I be charmed that I could possibly be the reason that Fort Merceus falls?

[His feelings are a confused mess, he wants Hubert to go because it's reawakening those feelings inside of him and no, never again, he refuses to do this again--]

[That gets his attention to snap back suddenly, his one visible eye narrowing.]

Do you really think I would risk letting the fort fall into enemy hands? Have you learned nothing about my tactics?

[In other words, he's got a backup plan, and a backup plan for that backup plan. None of them are his preferred plan, and admittedly he'd be doing a lot more good out there than he is in here, but...

But he can't leave. Linhardt is okay for now, yes, but if he leaves and someone else slips into the fort again... He can't let it happen. He can't lose Linhardt.

What is he thinking - he can't lose the fort. He can't afford to have anything happen to the fort. He's already lost more battles than he cares to count, and the only "victories" he's had recently are stalemates. His tactics are no longer good enough and his strength can only carry them so far. Putting the fort at risk like this is stupid, possibly the stupidest decision he's ever made in his life.

(Or was it agreeing to test that wish in the Goddess Tower with Linhardt? That's what led them to this mess, isn't it? Wouldn't that be the stupidest decision he's ever made?

...No. It isn't. Not by a long shot.)

He folds his arms but doesn't turn back away this time. While he's usually good at keeping his voice under control, the anger is obvious.]

The Empire will not lose this fort. Do not insult me like that again.

[If this had been back when they were at the academy, maybe it could have been a threat. There's no threat behind it now, though, and he's sure Linhardt knows it.]

[He can't take this. He can't take this anymore, everything's building up in the worst way and Linhardt can't fucking stand it anymore.]

Why are you even in here to begin with? What is so important about this room that it's worth leaving your own soldiers out there to potentially die for?

[That's openly venomous, and were Linhardt's leg not injured, he'd be walking over and giving Hubert a piece of his goddamn mind; as it stands he's actively looking at Hubert. He doesn't know what to think of Hubert now. Everything he thought he knew of the man was turned on it's head so many times that Linhardt's own head was left spinning, and now it's all coming to a boil that Linhardt doesn't usually get to--]

[There are plenty of things he could say in response to that, but ultimately Hubert doesn't think before he opens his mouth.]

You're in here.

[It's bitter, angry, from four years of resentment and frustration and none of it is aimed at Linhardt himself. Just like always, Hubert lashes out, to protect the walls he's so painstakingly built.

It only occurs to him once that's out there that he... really shouldn't have said that, um. He hesitates, visibly torn between doubling down and releasing all the pent up frustration or turning and fleeing the damn room. The former is not helpful. The latter is not helpful.

Just. Give him a moment. He'll sort out how he wants to proceed in a moment, he's got this—]

[Linhardt isn't sure what that's doing to his malfunctioning feelings, but Hubert's not the only one speaking impulsively--]

Why am I suddenly so important now?

[...Oh goddess, Linhardt wants to Die, why can't Warp just work on himself??? Let him yeet his way out of this godsforsaken place and never return, ever again, unless Her Majesty somehow orders it--

Linhardt's expression is a rather withering glare, but there's...something delicate there, something bubbling up that he really doesn't want to get out, so he's stuffing it behind his walls in a bid to drown it out.]

[...Yeah, okay, running sounds like a great idea, so he doesn't have to answer that question. He can just flee and never deal with it. Go back to how things were, where they were avoiding each other and making everything awkward and it'll be fine, because at least that means he doesn't have to deal with any of this. He doesn't have to face his own feelings, and it's not like he can let Linhardt down any more than he already has. So it'll be fine.

He starts toward the door, mind already made up. He's going to leave, and he's not going to look back, and this will be the end of it. The final nail in the coffin. After this, there won't be any going back.

And then something incredibly stupid occurs to him and he pauses. He's going to march out this door without his cape, which completely ruins his outfit.

Okay, so that's not exactly what occurs to him - it's more like he willingly sacrificed an important piece of his outfit for someone he (loves) cares deeply about and he's willing to throw that all away - he's willing to throw a second chance away - all for his pride. All because he can't possibly bear to admit he was wrong and lower the walls just a tiny bit.

He exhales, then turns back around. His hands are clasped behind his back so Linhardt won't see how bad they're shaking.]

Do you think I would put everything on the line to save you if you weren't important?

[It's... more of a question than he'd care to admit. It's tentative, almost hesitant, and while his expression is steeled as always, there's no anger in it anymore.]

[At first, Linhardt believes he's won. He believes that he's forcing Hubert out, that he's keeping those walls of his high so that nobody can reach him anymore. He doesn't want to let anyone in--he doesn't want to have to deal with the heartbreak again. Maybe he can cry in earnest, because he already feels himself starting to shake and he wants privacy--

But then Hubert turns around and asks him that, and Linhardt's not sure what he's doing with his face but he knows it needs to stop. His eyes shut, and he averts his face so he doesn't have to face it.]

...Why are you asking me? You act like I'm supposed to know the answer to this, but after...

[Linhardt shudders, crossing his arms in an attempt to calm himself.]

...After all of these years, am I important?

[To you is the important bit he leaves out.]

[He very nearly opens his mouth without thinking again, but that's the sort of thing he really needs to stop doing. So instead he bites back the default answer and pauses to think about it.

Of course Linhardt's important. Her Majesty has said so herself - perhaps not to his face, but to Hubert, and undoubtedly to plenty of her other subordinates. She values his insight and intellect, and his ability to get results out of stubborn nobles is impressive. Linhardt is incredibly important, and it's difficult to imagine where they'd be without him.

...But that's not what Linhardt's asking.

He takes a moment to breathe, to steady himself and his thoughts before replying.]

Of course you are. You never stopped being important.

[It's as he says it that he realizes just how true it is - just how often his thoughts have been with Linhardt, whether he was aware of it or not. He spent so much time figuring out Linhardt's whereabouts under the guise of wanting to avoid him; he fought carefully in battles so he wouldn't have to be healed; he never overworked himself so he wouldn't faint. Every single thing circles back to Linhardt in some way, even when he spent so much time convincing himself it didn't.

Honestly, he feels a little foolish for not having realized it sooner.]

What happened that day, I...

[This is the part where an apology should happen, because at the very least he owes Linhardt that much. Sweets certainly can't save him now and this is more than some barbed words flung at Linhardt in a feeble attempt to protect himself.

But even words aren't enough, and he's fully aware of that.

In the end, he lets it hang there, unable to push forward despite wanting to - needing to - and his nails bite so hard into his palms they would have drawn blood were he not wearing gloves.]

[You never stopped being important.]

Then why? Why?

[Linhardt's tone isn't taking that calm that he used to whenever the tears began to start. No, it's shaking fiercely, and he's starting to lose his nerve. But he can't let it down, he can't let down his walls, he won't let his heart break again--]

Why wasn't I important enough for you to listen to me before running off?!

[It's barbed. It's angry. It's four years of pent up frustrations coming to the surface, and he knows he shouldn't shout, his voice already feels so hoarse and Linhardt's never really shouted a day in his life.

He doesn't know what to do with himself, so taking it out on Hubert is clearly the best idea. Probably.]

[Linhardt has every right to be angry and he finds he doesn't have the energy to argue with him. Oh, he could, certainly, and the temptation is there - because Hubert prefers to escalate and make things worse, because in the end it'll drive people away and he'll be left alone. That's always how he's preferred it; Lady Edelgard is the only person he needs.

Things have changed, and it's far too late for him to go back to the way things once were.]

...I was scared.

[It's not easy to admit, and it's not going to get any easier to talk about. He folds his arms and finds himself looking away. He can't look at Linhardt right now, he can't watch him cry or he'll be tempted to approach and that's the last thing either of them need right now.]

The only person I have ever allowed myself to get close to is Her Majesty. Even then, I keep far too many secrets from her. With you things were... different. I meant it when I said you were my friend.

[...Were? Are? He doesn't know.]

I didn't realize until that moment just how important you were to me. I was convinced I had ruined everything. Ironic, I know.

[gj hubert]

I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, but I wasn't sure how to reconcile our relationship with everything else in my life. How could I serve Her Majesty to my fullest if I had an attachment that could influence my decisions? How could I possibly let anyone in enough to be a decent partner when I can't even trust Her Majesty?

How could I further put you in harm's way?

[It's difficult and slow going, but the words begin to come easier, faster. His grip on his sleeves is far too tight, but after a moment one hand comes up to cover the bottom half of his face.]

I thought it would be best to sever the ties completely. For both of us. And even once I'd realized what a terrible mistake I'd made, how could I possibly apologize after what I did to you? How could I explain myself, and admit to my failings as a person? How could I ever...

[His breath hitches and it suddenly feels like he can't get any more words out. For a brief moment, the shields crack, and his shoulders shake.]

[Perhaps for once in this whole, godsforsaken conversation, Linhardt tries to listen. It's hard--it's hard after four whole years of this shit, of avoiding everything and sticking his head in the ground in a misguided attempt at protecting himself.

Maybe it helps that this is the most open he's ever seen Hubert in his life. It's clearly so difficult for him to get this much out, that he's never been able to really trust anyone outside of Edelgard--and even then, that trust is strained. It's something he never expected from Hubert, really; he figured that he told her everything, not that even he held secrets from her, and somehow, that's...actually comforting, in some ways.

(In others, it makes Linhardt feel so stupid. Why didn't he realize that sooner?)

Linhardt winds up listening the whole way through, his face neutralizing some as he uses the long sleeves of his new outfit to dry his eyes. He'll be fine now--now that he knows Hubert is trying, at least, to explain his thought processes and what the hell was running through his mind. And honestly, all at once, it hits Linhardt that while Hubert has amazing battling and tactical abilities, he's...very, very stupid in regards to his feelings.

...Not that he's much better in that regard, and that may be the first bit of self-awareness he's ever had in regards to his own understanding of emotions.]

...You've always been trying to protect me in your own way, haven't you.

[Linhardt's chuckle is soft, the first soft thing he's said in a while. It's not a question, though; Linhardt knows better than anyone that he has. He's not sure where to start with this, but...]

I was so-- [He thinks for a moment, trying to find the proper word.] --anguished, you know. Crushed, for such a long time. Because I had finally found the answer I was looking for, when that happened; through you I understood what I felt, and all at once it felt...torn from me. I let that cloud my judgement and affect my work, and I tried to run away from it myself. The realization, the pain it caused...everything. Because I couldn't handle the thought that I could possibly be wrong about this...to say nothing of it being quite inappropriate for a time of war.

[...It's not quite an apology, but it's...closer, really, than he's come before.]

...What you're doing right now is a good start at confronting this, I will say. [He looks directly at Hubert, tipping his head.] And I do understand what you are trying to say...I think. I think you should be a touch more clear, but...

[lin try to have some tact, the man is Trying]

...I have a proposal for you.

[--WAIT he raises his hands in the air, almost flailing a bit.]

Not--not something quite...that, but...an idea, if you will.

Edited 2019-08-17 04:25 (UTC)

[He doesn't look at Linhardt - he can't bring himself to do that just yet - but he nods a bit at that; it isn't a question and doesn't require a response, but he answers anyway.]

I have.

[He meant what he said, he has never needed or wanted Linhardt to be a shield. All he's wanted is to protect him, and in some ways, shoving him away with such force seemed like the kinder option than failing him repeatedly. It's stupid now, but at the time he had been able to justify it to himself.

Hubert still doesn't look over as Linhardt explains, but eventually his shoulders stop shaking and he's able to fold his arms again.]

I... I never should have done that to you.

[It's not quite an apology, but the words he needs for that don't come. Maybe someday he can manage it.

He does look over at the last part, though he settles once Linhardt clarifies. He didn't really think it was a proper proposal anyway, but the wording...]

I'll hear it. What do you have in mind?

[...Linhardt will honestly take what he can get, at this point, it's better than having sweets shoved in his face.

.......Okay, realistically, only mildly better but look, Linhardt has weaknesses okay--]

This war is likely going to continue for a long while yet. Between the stalemates and the nobles seeming to rile up at every opportunity--I'll explain in a while, but needless to say, if you haven't heard, House Varley isn't pleased with recent events, but I digress--we've much work to do for Her Majesty. I know well that such a thing could likely only bring us more pain, should we pursue it to it's logical conclusion; be it from us worrying over one another, or the nobility attempting to use us to their advantage. Tactically, it is sound to avoid such a thing...

[Linhardt speaks of the elephant in the room so clinically that it almost sounds like a disease.]

...So let us avoid it, for now. Not shelve it completely, but avoid it; let us come back to it once our war is won, when we can truly bask in the new world that we have created. Where we may be able to pursue what we wish, and where we may see where it takes us, if anywhere at all. Perhaps we can see properly if this will hold true, until the end.

And when we come to a conclusion together...let us meet in the Goddess Tower again, to discuss our findings.

Would that be acceptable?

[Linhardt hasn't given up on him. That's perhaps the most baffling thing he's heard in awhile, and for a moment his expression is openly confused before he manages to wrestle it back under control. He listens, and he doesn't interrupt.

The Goddess Tower, huh...? Linhardt had gotten his wish, hadn't he? What a silly thing to be thinking right now...]

I'd like that. You're right - there's far too much at stake here right now. There's plenty we have left to do, and once Her Majesty has succeeded in winning this war... then we can discuss it.

[It's a good offer, a safe one. He's comfortable in agreeing to it. But something still causes him to hesitate.]

...Would you prefer to... remain distant until that point?

[...this is the most round-about way to ask "are we still friends".]

Yes; those are my exact thoughts.

[Linhardt smiles a bit, glad that Hubert is understanding him clearly. But then comes the true question.

Linhardt knows he should offer it some consideration; consideration for the walls he's built up, ones that are slowly crumbling after such an open question. His resolve has always broken so easily when near Hubert...

Linhardt winds up holding out one of his hands.]

Hm, no. I'd like to close some of that distance, if you would be so inclined.

[Hubert smiles at that; it's not quite as open as it's been in the past, but it's certainly an expression he hasn't worn in four years. He approaches, taking Linhardt's offered hand all too easily.]

What I did to you was unforgivable. I don't expect you to trust me after that.

[The words are soft but not upset. These are just facts.]

Thank you for allowing me another chance. I doubt I could ever thank you enough for it.

[Linhardt grips on Hubert's hand as he says that much, the walls practically crumbling down to nothing. He is so weak. So weak.

He still loves this man, even if he's just gotta shove those feelings aside for now. He can deal with them later.]

We've much time to make up, you know. I've wanted to speak to you again like this for so long, but...even I did not know how to go about it.

...Thank you for humoring me.

You have my apologies. I'm sorry I hurt you.

[...Oh.

Oh!!! Look at that, he did it...]

Ah, I... wasn't expecting that.

[He just... kind of said it?? No hesitation or fumbling or anything??? Witchcraft.]

[!!!!!

It's an actual fucking miracle, he said it!!

And honestly, his reaction actually makes Linhardt use his free hand to muffle his laughter, goddess above--]

You make it sound like you've never apologized a day in your life, Hubert!

[is this, dare he thinks even if he doesn't have a concept for this sort of thing, moe]

[no!!!!!!]

Well, I certainly don't make a habit of it.

[oh my god.]

It isn't as though I usually need to.

[that is a fucking lie

Anyway, he's kind of trying not to die, please don't make this awkward...]

[yes!!!!!!!!]

That might be the most adorable thing I've ever heard...

[what was that, make it worse

if you insist!!!

(there are literally people dying outside you two, oh my god???)]

...Why are you like this.

[It's not even a question. He's just resigned to this being his punishment. He deserves it. But also: please??? do not????

(now is exactly the wrong time but hey it's fine at least we're making up????)]

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