[Askr. A realm eternally caught in some struggle or other, with foes everywhere they look. They require the aid of outside forces, in the form of "heroes" summoned from other worlds. A simple enough explanation that defies all logic, but Hubert can hardly deny that in this world, these are facts. More baffling still is that he's one of these "heroes" summoned to aid this world, when he's possibly the furthest thing from a "hero". His duty is ever to Lady Edelgard, and he is hardly a knight in shining armor.
Still, he isn't the only shady so-called "hero" in the ranks, so Hubert's given up on attempting to determine what qualities make for a "hero". After all, there are some truly villainous sorts drawn in from their worlds - some truly do extend their power to assist Askr in their struggles for their own reasons, while others laze about the castle doing... whatever it is they do in their downtime when they aren't being called on by Prince Alfonse and Anna to assist in battles.
The Summoner (an elusive person who has managed to evade Hubert's attempts to shadow them so far) has decided that the best way to introduce all new heroes to battle in this world is to pair them up with teams and send them out on missions. By repeatedly fighting with the same group of individuals, they'll be better prepared for tougher missions - something Hubert can see the logic in even if he still firmly believes that his place is not the front lines. He's a capable combatant, certainly, but he would be better used as a knife than an axe, so to speak.
Regardless, he finds himself paired with the same allies in smaller skirmishes repeatedly. Without Lady Edelgard to serve here, Hubert has found himself adrift; what exactly is it that he does without her presence? He's been assured repeatedly that she's safe back home (but how safe? how can she be safe when they're losing the war?) and that he'll be returned to the moment he was pulled when Askr has no more need of him. While he does doubt that, questioning it endlessly will get him nowhere, so Hubert's forced to accept it and attempt to do what he can for the cause here.
Of course, that's easier said than done. His attention is often split between his allies and enemies - after all, how can he truly trust these people when he's only known them for such a short time? Other times it's something else that distracts him - today, it was a sudden feeling of... familiarity, perhaps. Like he's done this exact same thing before. Like he's wielded his tome to blast an enemy that looks remarkably similar in an unfamiliar world almost just like this—
Losing his concentration on a battlefield is a death sentence. Hubert knows this, and it very nearly cost him his head today. Instead, he's yet again saved by the swordsman who seems to always be just out of sight - Lif. Hubert shakes off the momentary daze and finishes off the next enemy bearing down on them before silently chastising himself for allowing such a stupid, pointless thought to distract him.
It's only later at night after they've returned to the castle and after dinner and the usual post-battle report that Hubert seeks Lif out. At the very least he should thank the man for saving him, though this isn't the first time Lif's done so. It's truly quite pathetic that Hubert keeps finding himself caught off-guard so in this world; he certainly would have died today had it not been for Lif's interference. It's best to express his thanks even if Lif was just doing his job.
So where exactly is Lif at this time of night? Not that Hubert's opposed to searching every nook and cranny of the castle, but he suspects that the man isn't the sort to call it a night early.]
[Lif had been simple man, prior to all of this. Resummoned by Ganglot, she granted him a weapon that was certainly one of the most powerful of Hel's weapons in Éljúðnir, with the intention of eradicating Eir and what little remains of the realm of Ymir. It was to be a simple task, but one that Lif would see through in order to gain power to fell the gods.
And then, it seemed that fate had once again brought him in a new direction; under the employ of the summoner, the Askrans, alongside...him.
Hubert von Vestra. It felt like a twist of fate straight from Hel's playbook that he had been summoned alongside the dark mage general of the Adrestian Empire, to be summoned alongside him again...it sparks memories. Memories that Lif had wanted to avoid for so long, that he had kept playing over and over again in his mind. But it was useless; all of these feelings were useless, because he was a being without feeling now. Whether or not that was a complete and utter lie was irrelevant; he could not, would not let his feelings for a man who was long gone from this world distract him from his goal of bringing the gods low.
Even so, the summoner made them work alongside each other. It was foolish, really, even if from a tactical standpoint the strategy was sound. Lif was a duelist, and Hubert was a shadow; so long as they played to each other's strengths, they could work just fine with the others. Time and time again, Lif had raced in to save Hubert from what would be likely devastating blows, if not outright death. It was tactically sound. It wasn't his feelings for a man who had been long gone coming to the surface again, and Lif would deny it at any turn. He didn't even remember anyway, and he was just playing his part. That's all it was. That's all it had to be.
Lif doesn't sleep very easily; he's like a wraith stalking the halls, the library, and anywhere that needs protecting. It's likely that Hubert is going to have to search up and down, but it's when he hits the library that, well...]
You're up rather late, Vestra.
[Lif's voice comes from behind Hubert--one might wonder how he gets away with constantly appearing out of nowhere, and to that I say, I don't have to explain shit--but Lif's gaze settles on Hubert, leaning against a bookshelf as he studies the man in front of him.]
For someone who nearly met death today, you seem apt not to rest.
[The greeting is calm and collected despite Hubert's internal reaction of how are you doing that, that's my job. The problem with being here in Askr is that so many people do exactly what he does, which means occasionally Hubert's going to have to deal with being the one snuck up on instead of doing the sneaking himself.]
It wouldn't do to leave my debts unpaid, so to speak. At the very least, I owe you my thanks for today.
[Without missing a beat, he sweeps into a bow - just low enough to be proper, not enough to risk showing the back of his neck. Not that he expects Lif to turn on him - the man's had plenty of opportunities for that by now, after all - but more out of habit than anything else.]
Thank you. Without your timely assistance today, I wouldn't still be standing here.
[...There's that feeling again - the one that digs at a corner of his mind asking why is this so familiar?]
Perhaps surprisingly, and damningly, that gets Lif's gaze to avert for the briefest of moments--it's something he remembers all too well. The way Hubert thanked him, whenever he saved his life on the battlefield all but a lifetime ago. He'd always insisted that he was doing what he would do for any ally, back then--and gods, it makes his empty chest ache.]
...Think nothing of it. [Those words, though softer than usual, are probably familiar.] I am simply doing what I have been summoned to do. Nothing more, and nothing less.
[He can only hope that Hubert doesn't notice how he's not looking at the man; certainly, Lif doesn't keep eye contact very well, but this seems...different. It certainly doesn't help that Hubert's become a different man all those years later, and that is a thought process he's killing right there and now--]
I do mean it, however. You know that we are expected early tomorrow for another skirmish. You should not be wasting your time.
[Think nothing of it. —nothing more, and nothing less.
They're words he knows Lif will say before he says them, and that is startling enough to get him to pause for a moment. He doesn't know Lif well enough to be able to predict his exact wording. That comes with time, while he might be able to predict Lady Edelgard's exact wording in response to a familiar action, that is to be expected. After all, he's spent most of his life by her side. But this...
Have we met somewhere before? is what he wants to ask, but such a stupid, inane question is not one he will seriously consider, and so Hubert files that thought away, never to be considered again. Perhaps he truly is tired, that could explain... all of this.]
...I wouldn't consider it "wasting my time", but duly noted. Until tomorrow, then.
[Perhaps he should promise that he won't need Lif's assistance tomorrow... but that's just asking to be proved wrong, so he won't be that bold. With another incline of his head and no indication what caused him to take a moment before responding, Hubert turns to leave.
Sleep should hopefully help with this... absolutely bizarre feeling of something almost like nostalgia.]
[Lif's gaze goes back to Hubert when he says that much; what a foolish man. Foolish, stupid, this utterly calculating man who has never once been held back by sentiment insists on thanking him. He's not sure why his chest feels tight, at that, but he lets Hubert leave without further input. Despite the fact that he has so many questions of his own, it all falls under the feelings he'll never acknowledge.
Lif waits. Waits until the footsteps are far enough away, before he lets out a humorless chuckle.]
...You sentimental fool. You knew it would be your downfall then, so why...
[But that's a question to never be acknowledged again.
Morning comes quickly enough, though it feels like an eternity for Lif; it helps that he never needs to sleep, but he's on his horse again like clockwork and they're out to fight again. It's going to be a grueling one, but Lif is prepared. He's always prepared, felling foe after foe and charging on in without regard for anything going on around him. He has to ensure that his enemies are defeated, and he has always been rewarded for going on ahead, after all.
However, he's lost track of some of the foes behind him, in the process. He had trusted that he could clear the way for everyone else and that they could pick off stragglers, but it does seem that there's an archer who's got Deadeye at the ready, and he's looking to get a clean blow in.
[Morning arrives, and with it, another battle. It's becoming standard fare for them at this point, though that hardly means that it should be taken lightly. Any battle could be their last, as yesterday's very nearly proved. Hubert isn't particularly surprised to see Lif tear off through the battlefield - with his horse, he's the best suited of them to cut a swath through the front lines of the enemy, after all. But there is one downside to that - and it's all too apparent today.
This one archer could put a stop to the destruction Lif is causing the enemy. One single person could change the tide of battle so easily - and from the looks of it, Lif hasn't noticed the man. Hubert doesn't hesitate; the magic he calls is familiar and powerful, slicing clean through the man before he can get that Deadeye off and cut straight through Lif's defenses. The man goes down with a cry and Hubert picks up the pace. While he has no reason to doubt Lif's ability to take care of himself, there could be other archers or mages preparing to strike.
Later he'll tell himself that his desire to protect Lif is purely a practical one - Lif is the strongest of their team and the best suited for defending Hubert from threats that get too near; they simply cannot afford to lose him - but right now he isn't thinking about why he's rushing forward to make sure Lif is alright because suddenly he's not sure the man truly is. What if...?]
[Lif starts, if only slightly, when he hears the pained cry of the man behind him--not because he's truly shocked, but because he truly allowed himself to get careless, didn't he. He wonders just who's come to save him, when he sees Hubert rushing up and the surprise leaves him in an instant.
It's almost nostalgic. He could never rush to the front lines too hard before, try as he might, and yet Hubert has been there for him time and time again. It feels nostalgic, and no different than before.
Hubert will definitely be able to see that Lif's sustained some pretty bad injuries--injuries that would likely see a lesser man (in physicality, because lord knows he's lesser in all other manners) falling back. It's probably strange just how many of these enemies have had Guard on them; usually Open the Future would be able to help him in situations like these, but...]
Vestra. How...many are left?
[Lif's tone attempts to be level, despite his injuries, but the pain escapes into his tone and that's definitely an indicator for how much punishment he;'s taken. If he extends himself any further, there's a possibility he could fall here. It's not something on Lif's mind; he's been a soldier of Hel for so long that death doesn't even feel real. But as always, Lif's priorities are with the battlefield; always are, and always have been.]
[By way of an answer, Hubert launches another spell - the fleeing mage is cut down easily and he shakes his head.]
That should be the last of them. If there are others, they've undoubtedly started to retreat.
[And their allies will undoubtedly chase them down. They aren't exactly known for routing enemies. They're known for killing them.
But the problem here isn't the enemies, it's what's happened to Lif. In their short time together, Hubert's never seen him this injured. Usually he's able to heal himself while fighting, and he walks away with minimal injuries, but today...]
Let me see your injuries.
[He's not a healer. There was a time when the Professor sought to teach Hubert Faith magic, but it barely went anywhere because he never cared for it. Still, he can at least assess the damage and provide some support until they can reach a healer... though admittedly, with Lif's unique physiology, Hubert's not entirely sure his own medical knowledge (rather lacking though it may be) will be of any use. Still, his tone offers no room for argument.]
[His tone may offer no room for argument, but given the way Lif's eyes flare to life in a reddened, glowing glare, well, he's gonna get one anyway--]
Cease. I am fine, and I am--perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and it is not necessary. Go back to the--
[It's as if on cue that his horse decides that she's had enough of Lif's pontificating, and she decides to express this by way of promptly bucking Lif off of her back and sending him to the ground. His weapon falls out of his hand and perhaps thankfully, he falls onto his back so Hubert can actually get a good look at what's happened.
It seems to be the culmination of many smaller injuries; given that his defenses tend to be inhumanly strong, there's many darkened cuts into the glowing blue parts of his body, and in general he seems like he's been dealing with a battle of attrition. One mage seems to have gotten a good hit off on him with Gronnwolf or something similar, given the almost magical bite injury he's sustained on one of his legs, so...walking is perhaps surprisingly out of the question for him.
Lif doesn't even look at Hubert. His dignity is already shattered, he's just giving up and letting the man assess the damage.]
[Hubert may not be the biggest fan of horses, but this one is getting so many treats when they get back to the castle. Hubert decides to spare what's left of Lif's dignity and not make a sarcastic remark about this turn of events, but he is smirking so that's probably not helping any.
Anyway, he kneels beside Lif to assess the damage. He doesn't reach out to touch - partially because he isn't a healer and partially because that's rather rude - but he can tell that this is definitely not going to be a fun trip home for Lif. Shame they don't have a dedicated healer with them...]
I should be able to stop the bleeding, though I can do little more than that. Hold still.
[wait hubert you can't do that, you're a red mage, you aren't allowed to heal—]
[Make one comment and he will shoot a hand up to choke you, Hubert--
Nevertheless, though, Lif promptly avoids all eye contact again while Hubert checks him over. It's humiliating, really, though he feels his face growing warm too. It manifests as the blue around his face darkening, if only just a bit, but--
It dissipates, along with Lif's lack of eye contact, when Hubert brings up that he can do more than stop the bleeding. Wait, what is he talking about, he's just a--]
What are you talking about? You never--
[liked the idea of learning such things.
...He shouldn't have spoken up. Lif's eye contact becomes minimal again, but he acquiesces.]
...Do as you will. You can't exactly make this much worse.
[What was Lif going to say? It almost sounded as if...
No, it hardly matters now. Hubert dismisses it and scoffs at the rest of Lif's statement.]
I very well could were I to attempt anything more.
[His ability to heal really is that bad. Though it'd probably be more like using Reciprocal Aid rather than injuring Lif further. Still, the point stands!!
Anyway, Hubert holds a hand out over the most severe of the cuts, weak Faith magic spreading out to at the very least seal it. It's merely a temporary solution, but it will stop the bleeding, and he's able to do that for all of the bleeding cuts before he has to stop.]
There's nothing I can do for your leg, unfortunately. Do you believe your steed will be willing to carry you back?
[...okay, he couldn't help the sarcasm there, but what did you expect of him??]
[It's not pleading, but it is just so very tired. Please, he's dealt with enough today, leave him alone--
Either way, though, he lets Hubert continue his work at least; he's a little surprised that Hubert has even minor knowledge of this, given his hatred of the faith. Lif watches carefully as Hubert works, and when he's finished and makes that little comment he finds himself scoffing.]
She had better. I doubt I could get back there by myself--
[And try as he might to get up, though, he winds up falling back down onto a knee again and grimaces. He. Might need some help here...admittedly, his horse does look to Hubert and she seems to walk over to him and offer her reins. Seems you're invited too if you want, Hubert...?]
[Oh. Right, of course, Lif needs a hand and Hubert's certainly fine helping... well, after a thankful pat to the horse because she is absolutely necessary here and it's good to see that she's being very cooperative.
Hubert moves to help Lif up - he's not taking no for an answer, so c'mon, up we go!!]
[You know, Lif was perfectly well and prepared to suffer here to try and get back on his horse. She'll be due for a scolding after all of this is said and done, but just as he's about to try and suffer his way through getting back on, Hubert moves in and--
Lif goes tense. Mostly in surprise; he's not sure if he's more surprised that Hubert's willing to actually try and help him, or if the fact that Hubert's strong enough to support him now is...
It's doing something, at least, and his face darkens further.]
You--you could have waited.
[At the very least getting on the horse should be easy, and she's very cooperative. The real question is who's taking the reins here for the moment.]
You should not be wasting your time on me, Vestra. I am capable of caring for myself.
[Perhaps he should thank the Professor next time he sees them. After all, he wouldn't have bothered training with a physical weapon at all were it not for their instruction. Of course, he can't seriously consider such a thought when he's going to kill them afterwards, but that's neither here nor there and certainly not relevant now.]
I've no doubts that you are, but in your current condition, you'd take twice as long as necessary. To put it in a way you're all too familiar with - it's more practical for me to assist you now.
[There's a touch of sarcasm there, of course, but he does mean it. Practically, leaving Lif on his own to struggle back to the castle would waste time and resources; Lif's wounds could even be agitated by his struggles, so it's best to cooperate.
Anyway, this is Lif's horse and Hubert's not exactly skilled at riding (though he does have some training with horses, at least) so she's all yours! Once Lif's up, Hubert will follow, frowning for a moment as he decides where to put his hands. Lif's rather spikey attire makes this harder than it should be, but he finally settles for holding onto Lif's waist. There isn't a great place to hold onto his shoulders and just clinging to his cape won't be sturdy enough to keep Hubert on the horse should she pick up speed or traverse rough terrain. So this too is practical, albeit a bit embarrassing. Ugh, this is why he prefers to just teleport everywhere... Shame that's not one of his tome's effects!!]
[how dare you use his own justifications against him!! you asshole! you jerk!
...Nonetheless, Lif doesn't gesture for the horse to go until Hubert is fully secured, which--yeah, due to his spiky attire is going to be hard, now that he thinks of it. He supposes Hubert will just have to deal, and admittedly he'll have to deal with whatever Hubert actually decides to do.
...He's just so glad Hubert can't see his face darkening further at that, dear god he's lost practically all of his glow--]
Let's just--get back to the castle and get this farce over and done with.
[At the very least, the ride home is swift--his horse at least takes some care to make sure not to jostle them both around too much, but it is a bit of a bumpy ride if mostly due to the terrain. They're back to the castle in relatively short order, though, and once they've reached a stop, Lif finds himself scoffing.]
...I suppose it is my turn to thank you now, isn't it?
[It's fine, they can both suffer through a little embarrassment (as a treat).]
Of course.
[The trip back isn't all that long at all, and Lif's horse certainly seems to be doing her best not to jostle them too much, so he doesn't really have anything to complain about. Still, Hubert is a bit pink when he dismounts.]
Only doing my part, though I'll accept it regardless.
[It would be hypocritical of him to try to downplay it when he insisted on thanking Lif last time. Fair's fair and all that.]
I trust you'll see yourself to a healer without the need of an escort?
[Not that he'd be opposed to escorting Lif, but that might actually kill poor Lif of embarrassment.]
[Both of them are suffering, just as they fucking deserve. Lif can't even bring himself to look at Hubert once all is said and done, and the dismount for Lif is...well, a little painful, and he has to use Éljúðnir to support himself as he does.]
Please. I'll be fine to get there on my own; you don't need to focus your efforts on a dead man. Save your concern for the living.
[Lif just kind of shakes his head, really. He doesn't get why Hubert's electing to care so much about him; he's almost nostalgic for the times in the past, when he...]
...I'll make it there fine on my own. You should send a report to Prince Alfonse and the others, like you always do.
[A dead man... He's heard a bit about Lif's situation (and pried into it more on his own time) so he has a decent idea of what he's referring to, but still something about that doesn't sit right with him. It's the second part that gets him to raise an eyebrow.]
I wasn't aware you were keeping so close an eye on me.
[Yes, it's true that he always does insist on a thorough briefing and that's hardly unusual - if he doesn't do it from their team, who will? Perhaps he's reading too much into it, though; it's not as though Lif's truly keeping that close a watch on him - otherwise Hubert would have noticed by now.
So instead he shakes his head and lifts his shoulders a bit.]
Very well. May your injuries heal swiftly, Lif.
[It's not... quite as light and dismissive as he was going for, but he turns to take his leave anyway while opting not to think any more on it.]
[It's an almost instantaneous answer, one that Lif regrets the moment he says it. In a way, it's damning him further; he shouldn't bother with this, nor pursue it. This isn't even the man he once knew; that man has gone back to his home, if Lif's final act was successful before Hel set upon him. That man is by all rights dead.
And yet, as Hubert walks away, Lif watches for a bit none the less. He's so foolish, so nostalgic, and he hates it, he hates it--]
...Tch. You haven't changed a bit, Hubert.
[Lif stumbles away, uncaring if Hubert actually heard him or not, and it takes him a little while to reach the healers--needless to say, the news isn't good. It is recoverable, as all things are with the summoner's assistance, but even with that, he's going to have to sit the next few days out.
It's a pity, really, that Lif's never been inclined to listen. Granted, most of their healers are simply competent at best (given they seem to have abysmal luck at summoning anyone with more than the moral fiber of tissue paper), and Lif has a terrible habit of trying to sneak out of bed to join the fray. Once he was left with some firm words from one of the women in charge; the next, and he's apparently got someone who's going to be watching over him to make sure he doesn't get out now.
Great. At least it can't get much worse than this?]
It's soft enough as he leaves that he's not quite sure he heard it right, and Hubert doesn't pause to ask if he did because... it likely wasn't meant for him to be heard to begin with. He's reading too deeply into things; he's certain of that now. Besides, it isn't possible that Lif knew him before...
Before what, exactly? Becoming a member of Hel's army? For all his research on Lif, he's somehow missed who exactly Lif was before that.
It doesn't matter, he tells himself. It doesn't matter who Lif was because that's not who he is now. And yet dismissing it like that is far harder than it should be.
Initially, Hubert is pleased to see that Lif has been kept in bed. His injuries had looked bad enough to require some more serious treatment - and given their rather lackluster options, it makes sense it will take a bit longer than if they had Linhardt or Manuela running around here. But that quickly gives way to concern when Lif isn't around for the next battle, and concern becomes worry by the third. At the very least Lif is likely driving the healers crazy, Hubert reasons as he comes up with yet another excuse to visit Lif. He doesn't need to have this many, but somehow it feels wrong simply to show up because he was worried.
So he slips into the clinic later in the evening - it should be late enough for most people to be asleep, which would be the perfect time for an escape attempt... so is Lif attempting just that or has he finally given up and decided it's not worth being yelled at and/or quite literally strapped to the bed with magical restraints?]
[Lif has never been a man to stay in one place for long. So to say that the clinic has been nothing short of hell on earth for him has been an understatement, to say the very least. Everything in him hurts, and that's usually the only thing holding him back from entering the fray once again.
Usually, being the keyword.
Deirdre, the kind woman who practically runs this place, has certainly been run ragged trying to keep him in his bed. She said that the most optimistic outlook was a week with plenty of bedrest so his wounds could heal; that was unacceptable to him. Feeling nothing, he absolutely kept trying to get out of bed to join the fray; he had places to be and battles to fight, and while he certainly expected to draw the usually sedate woman's ire, he didn't think about the workload he was putting on her and the other two idiots working with her. There was a pain in his chest; certainly not guilt, because he couldn't feel anything anymore, but something. It was vexing, at the very least to not be there for Hubert, but...
Well, it doesn't stop him from attempting to get out tonight as well. Deirdre was exhausted and had to be almost literally carried out by Sigurd, and Iago and Gangrel both don't like staying here longer than they have to. But Hubert won't even have to step inside to see Lif attempting to limp out again, and those dull red eyes on him as he realizes he's been caught.
Damn it.]
...Let me guess; she sent you here?
[Because Hubert clearly has no reason to come on his own??]
[Oh, there he is, attempting to escape, it would seem. Not exactly a surprise considering the way he spoke about himself not all that long ago - why bother wasting time treating one who is already dead, or something along those lines. A pointless - and frankly frustrating - thought, but one he could see Lif having regardless.]
If you mean Deirdre, she did not.
[It would have been easier to lie. It would have been better to lie, because then he could pretend that this wasn't... what? A random whim of his? But no, it's a lie that could be easily disproven, and Hubert isn't going to make a mistake that stupid. All Lif would have to do is ask Deirdre about it, and her look of confusion would shatter that to pieces immediately. Better to be straightforward about his intentions.]
Though it would seem she would be right to find someone to look after you at night. Don't tell me you think you're healed enough to be out on the field?
[Though given the slight incline of his head and the small smirk, it's obvious Hubert's already assumed that anyway and the question's more for show.]
[...It'd have been easier to say so. Sure, he would've been proven wrong the very instant he spoke to Deirdre again, but Lif actually seems somewhat startled by that for a moment. It's a look that slowly shifts to wariness; he doesn't understand, and he's not sure what to think.]
...You already know the answer, Vestra. I'm of no use here; all I'm doing is taking up a valuable bed. I am--fine.
[That much is said strained, as Lif attempts to shift a bit, wincing in the process.]
[Hubert just gives Lif a Look in response. He doesn't need to say anything, Lif likely already knows that he isn't fine and that he isn't "taking up a valuable bed". Though perhaps he shouldn't assume Lif knows exactly what's going through his head, Hubert does anyway. Somehow, he's certain Lif will get it.]
I thought you might be bored; remaining still while recovering hardly seems like the sort of thing you'd find acceptable.
[And from within his cape, he pulls a book! Hubert hands it over, expecting Lif to accept.]
While I doubt you'll find reading much more acceptable, perhaps it will help stave off the boredom. I confess I'm not familiar with your tastes for reading material, but this one seemed promising.
["Promising" in this case was... well, perhaps a little odd. It stuck out to him more than anything else in the library, and though he wasn't sure why or how, he thought Lif would appreciate it.
As for whether or not Lif actually will... well, that sort of depends. It's a book on tactics - something Hubert and Alfonse once poured over together on the eve of a particularly difficult battle, towards the end of Hubert's previous stay in Askr. They spent hours building and scrapping battle plans in an attempt to find something that would serve Askr well - and though it was a difficult and stressful night... it was one of the last ones where they were actually able to spend time and joke a bit as they worked.]
you vastly overestimate this man's sense of self esteem. or self preservation, even.]
...!
[But no, something more important comes through in Lif's expression--for all he's tried to quash various feelings, negative and positive, he's always been a man of sentiment. Even as Alfonse, this was true of him; he enjoyed remembering little things. Nights spent in the quiet company of the library, pouring over books. Sometimes with friends, dear friends who you could make even the most harrowing times a little lighter.
Of course Lif recognizes that book. He'd be a fool not to. It was one of the last good memories he had of Hubert, and he pauses pretty significantly at the book as he stares at it.
It feels like a confrontation. Lif knows--deep down, that this isn't what Hubert intends. He knew better than anyone that Hubert had a kind side, layered underneath the image he had to present for Princess Edelgard's sake.]
...I...
[Words dry up in his throat, lost. He stares at Hubert, finally, fixing him with something...wary. Guarded, almost. He doesn't accept the book, not yet, but...]
[The pause lasts too long. Hubert would be willing to accept that he completely failed to pick something that would capture Lif's interest - but if that's all it was, Lif would have said so. If it was a matter of insulting Lif, then he simply would have expressed that as well. He isn't a man to shy away from such things, nor take his time to carefully consider how to word such a thing, so what does this pause signify?
Hubert waits. He doesn't interrupt because whatever's going through Lif's mind must be quite important to earn a look of surprise like that.]
It stood out to me.
[How, exactly, he's not sure he can describe without sounding insane. It would be easy to lie about it, but...
But for some absolutely bizarre reason, Hubert doesn't want to. So though the answer is crazy, perhaps it's worth sharing.]
...It almost felt... familiar. As though out of all the books I could look through, this one was the right one. I suppose you could call it a gut feeling, but I've never been one to act on such a thing.
[It was something more than that, he's sure of it.]
Lif doesn't have any blood left to run cold at a statement like that, but Hubert will almost certainly be able to see the way Lif tenses at that statement. He didn't want to believe that there was a chance that he'd see this man again, much less one who could've possibly been one of his most stalwart allies. His friends.
Lif's gaze hardens at that, though. He forces it to. Even if he is the man he once knew, the boy Hubert knew in kind is--]
...It would seem your gut feeling led you in the right direction. I am...not one for reading, but I do prefer these.
[It's guarded. It's so, so incredibly guarded.]
...You've been bothering me quite a bit as of late, when you do not even have to. And now you're going out of your way to bring me entertainment, as if you're looking for an excuse to spend time with me.
[Lif's gaze trains itself on Hubert; accusatory, intentionally so.]
I want to know why, Vestra. Why do you persist? What do you stand to gain from this?
[Is it a heavy level of deflection away from the fact that he too has been going out of his way? Yes, absolutely. Does Lif care?? Of course not.
The dead don't have feelings, after all, despite all evidence to the contrary.]
[It seems to be the wrong answer, given how Lif's gaze hardens and he decides to fire back. Hubert was prepared to answer a question like this - because he's been asking himself the same thing. Why would he go out of his way for something like this, when he knows that Lif will likewise question him? He isn't kind. He looks out for his allies in more subtle ways - but the people here aren't his allies. They're only working together because they have to be.
But Lif... Things are different with Lif. He's not sure he could ever articulate how, so he leaves that thought alone and refuses to elaborate on it, even to himself.]
In this particular instance, it serves our healers to have you stay put. The less strain we place on them now, the easier their job will be when they've other injured to deal with. I saw a problem and sought to solve it, that's all.
[That isn't all, but the answer is easy and he inclines his head a bit as if considering.]
Though your reaction leads me to believe that there is something more to it. What have I done to upset you so?
[Despite the wording, it is a serious question. If he's stepped on Lif's toes, then he owes Lif an apology. Though they may not be comrades, they are temporary allies here, and Hubert doesn't want to insult Lif, accidentally or otherwise.]
[Lif's gaze stays hard as Hubert continues to speak, everything in Lif going even more guarded than usual. How could he possibly tell him--if he's not the same person he knew so long ago, then it's just burdening him with something unnecessary. If he is, then...
Lif's eyes close, though. After a moment.]
...You haven't upset me.
[When Lif opens them again, there's something more somber in his expression. His look goes down towards the book in question, and he lets out something soft; something close to a chuckle, at least.
It might even sound a bit familiar.]
There are simply far too many coincidences, for this to be a matter of random selection. This book...it is something that holds a few significant memories to me. That is all.
[He doesn't know if he should elaborate; he's not entirely sure how. But he's putting that out there and at least taking the book for the moment.]
[Truthfully, it's somewhat surprising that Lif offers an answer at all, though not nearly as surprising as that soft chuckle, something that sounds... familiar. Like he's gotten that exact same laugh from the man before somehow, though he's quite certain he's never heard Lif sound so amused. So then how? Is there truly more to all of this - the fact that he finds himself drawn to Lif, the fact that so much of this feels familiar, even that particular book? It's not something he really wants to consider, but Hubert's not going to be able to continue avoiding it for much longer.
Lif's answer is likewise something he knew, somehow. It isn't a surprise to hear it, despite the fact that it should be, given Hubert had no way of knowing such a thing.]
I wasn't aware of your fondness for tactics.
[Which... is sort of true, in that he hadn't realized it despite this weird sense of deja vu, as though somehow he did actually know this. Even as he says it, Hubert looks unsure, as if that isn't quite the response he wanted - or maybe it isn't the right response at all.
He shakes his head as if to clear it. This isn't getting him anywhere.]
Will it suitably occupy you until you're free to return to the battlefield?
[...which is probably the most stunted way he could have put that, but alright.]
[Lif's expression...it becomes unreadable for a moment. There's a lot of ways he could respond to this; a lot of ways he should. He should push Hubert away, he should make sure that he doesn't come back to bother him at all. If it weren't for the damned summoner's power, maybe he'd just kill Hubert to fix all of this malfunction. Then he could at least justify feeling responsible for all of this.]
And if it doesn't?
[And yet, those damning words leave him before he can take them back. His empty chest feels a phantom tightness, and his tone almost seems...amused.]
Do you intend to do anything more about it?
[He hopes Hubert doesn't. (He hopes Hubert does, gods, give him more of an excuse--)]
It isn't my responsibility to ensure you behave yourself. Should you continue to act in ways that are detrimental to your own health, you truly will meet your end someday.
[Though whether that's on the battlefield in the immediate future or not is up in the air.]
I thought it best to at least provide you with some form of entertainment, but I won't stop you, should you decide you know better than the healers.
[Perhaps if things were different, he would. Some small part of him wonders if this is the right call, if maybe he should intervene more - if not for their healers, then for Lif himself. But...
But nothing. Lif is hardly a replacement for Lady Edelgard (and such a thought is an insult to them both) and Hubert won't consider it any further. Lif will do what he wants in the end, and Hubert doubts he has the power to truly stop him even if he wanted to.]
[Lif pauses, at that. It's what he was expecting, really, and he holds no ill towards Hubert for it; it makes Lif push those thoughts out of his head, if only for a time. He could give the book back to Hubert and simply go on his way; he needs to become stronger, as strong as he can to lay the gods low who have toyed with him.
...And yet...]
Some might accuse you of growing soft-hearted, Vestra. [...] But...I suppose I can refrain, for the time being.
[He doesn't want to. But maybe getting caught up in sentiment, just this once, will actually benefit him. He'll at least start to struggle his way back, but...]
...Thank you. You did not have to go out of your way like that.
[The first part gets a scoff from him, but then Lif decides to play nice for the time being and that gets an expression that's actually somewhat close to a smile from Hubert.]
You don't need to thank me for that... but I'll accept it regardless.
[He watches Lif for a moment to make sure that he'll actually be able to make it back. You going to be okay, or do you need a hand...]
Just don't get into the--habit of it, lest you want everyone to think you've gone mad.
[It probably doesn't help that he doesn't have Éljúðnir to support himself--damn Sigurd for thinking to confiscate that from him. But while Lif can give thanks, asking for help is a whole different beast.
Please help, this is pathetic...the bed's at least several feet away, given that it was supposed to be a deterrent to keep him there.]
[It's an unintentionally startled voice that Hubert gets at that--rude, he's supposed to be the one who shocks and scares people??? He doesn't protest being helped back to bed, at least, though he just. Very pointedly is going to ignore how almost gallant that was of Hubert.
Dear gods, feelings are a mistake and that just proves it. Eternally. At the very least, Lif can get himself laid back down easily, but the glow on his face is certainly dulled from it's usual and he's not looking at Hubert.]
...Thank you. For your assistance. [...] Don't forget to get some rest yourself, Vestra.
[So I don't have to worry, Lif wants to say, but he won't. of course he won't say that much.]
[That's almost... cute his mind supplies, though that's not precisely what he was going for. At least he didn't voice such a ridiculous thought.]
You don't need to worry yourself over me.
[But with that said he does hold up a hand in farewell.]
Do try not to trouble the healers too much.
[And with that, he takes his leave; though this wasn't exactly what he was expecting when he entered the infirmary, he leaves it feeling satisfied. At the very least Lif will hopefully stay put for now... even if Hubert has more questions than answers at this point. Still, he doesn't intend to remain awake for much longer - so even though he didn't say it, he'll be sure to get some rest as well.]
[If Gustav could see him awake right now, he's pretty sure his father would be scolding him for being up so late. A prince and soldier needs their rest in order to keep fighting at their best, and if they want to win this war against Hel, Alfonse can accept being at no less than his best.
It's a shame Gustav is dead and that their foe shows no signs of stopping in the slightest.
Alfonse paces the library, grabbing every tactical tome he can pour over to try and plan their next move. If he doesn't do something, Askr and Embla will fall; he knows that much. He can't afford a single second of idling, no matter how much Sharena insists he needs to rest in their father's stead, or any of the other heroes insist on such things. They've been backed into a corner--how exactly can you out maneuver an enemy who legitimately cannot die? That's been the question on Alfonse's increasingly frayed and stressed mind as he studies well into the night.
Even with Veronica looking into anything that the Embla family line could have used to try and ensure Hel won't be a problem, they still have to try and deal with her now. It could be worse; it could be so much worse, and Alfonse knows it. But they need to do something now, while there's still time.
He knows, better than anyone, that if worst comes to worst, they need to send the summoner and their heroes back. But at least for now, guilty as Alfonse feels for asking for every bit of help they can get, they have assistance. And Alfonse is ever thankful for it; despite his insistence on not getting close to heroes, not even he's immune to kinship. It at least helps that they have reliable people around, and his mind drifts to one of them as he pours over his studies.
He wonders if Hubert is out this late, and just what the other man would say if he saw him in here again. It almost makes Alfonse chuckle; it's not as though Hubert could judge, considering his own habits. But Hubert has been a stalwart ally for quite some time, and Alfonse has always appreciated having the rather cold and calculating man around. He's helped Alfonse with tactics several times throughout their battles, and his council has always helped the prince in his times of need. He may not know everything of Princess Edelgard other than what Hubert has told him, but he imagines that she appreciates him just as much, if not moreso.
...What he would do for a good cup of coffee right about now, he muses. He's letting himself drift off too much; back to tactical work. It's not like anyone else is awake at this hour.]
[Thankfully, a good cup of coffee is on its way, and with it, one Hubert von Vestra.
Though Askr is a far cry from Adrestia and Alfonse is certainly not a replacement for Lady Edelgard, Hubert would be lying if he said he didn't find his experiences here enjoyable. What had started as an attempt to get close to the leadership to learn more about the conflict had quickly morphed into something else entirely. Alfonse is every inch as genuine as he presents himself, and in some ways it's... almost charming in its sincerity. Perhaps it's because Lady Edelgard understands she has to present a front and does so quite well, but seeing someone in a position of power who is truly so straightforward and forthright is something Hubert isn't quite sure he knows how to handle.
That's what drew him to Alfonse initially, and while he attempted to slot himself into the same role he served with Lady Edelgard at first, he quickly realized that he couldn't do the same thing here. Alfonse is not Lady Edelgard, and he can't expect to serve Alfonse in the same way. So he's had to change and adapt here, and while that hasn't been the easiest thing, it has certainly proved an invaluable lesson.
And besides, there's something nice about being treated as Alfonse's equal. While Hubert may have his doubts about the "Hero" title that those summoned to this world have been given, he can acknowledge that they are valuable members of the Askran force in this war.
A war that they will be no closer to winning if they don't put their all into their research, and right around now he assumes Alfonse will be hard at work, but beginning to long for bed. Thus the coffee and thus his presence; two sets of hands will make the work go by quicker.]
I see I was right in assuming you'd be here this late.
[The remark is as wryly pleased as usual, and Hubert offers Alfonse one cup of coffee. The other is of course, for himself.]
[It probably says something about Alfonse that he doesn't startle at the sound of footsteps; Hel could easily send an assassin to take him in the night. Or she could just eradicate them while they're at their clear weakest. But for a being as cold and objective as Hel seems to be, she seems to have a sadistic side to her for sure.
It's only when it becomes obvious who it is that Alfonse allows himself to perk up, and ah...he supposes he should've expected company at this hour. But Alfonse certainly isn't opposed to who joins him; Hubert is a stalwart friend and equal, and knowing that the man has come by in his time of need is...
...It's nice, really. Alfonse's smile is warm when he regards the other man.]
Aha...my apologies. I suppose I have become a little bit more predictable, over time.
[Alfonse will gladly take that coffee like it's an elixir, though, good lord--give him the strength to get through this.]
Thank you. I'm afraid I simply cannot bring myself to sleep, when there is so much that needs to be done...and this will be a great help. I imagine it's the same for you, is it not?
[There's no judgement in his tone; it's simply objective, because he's the exact same way.]
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sranks2022-09-23 01:17 am
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Still, he isn't the only shady so-called "hero" in the ranks, so Hubert's given up on attempting to determine what qualities make for a "hero". After all, there are some truly villainous sorts drawn in from their worlds - some truly do extend their power to assist Askr in their struggles for their own reasons, while others laze about the castle doing... whatever it is they do in their downtime when they aren't being called on by Prince Alfonse and Anna to assist in battles.
The Summoner (an elusive person who has managed to evade Hubert's attempts to shadow them so far) has decided that the best way to introduce all new heroes to battle in this world is to pair them up with teams and send them out on missions. By repeatedly fighting with the same group of individuals, they'll be better prepared for tougher missions - something Hubert can see the logic in even if he still firmly believes that his place is not the front lines. He's a capable combatant, certainly, but he would be better used as a knife than an axe, so to speak.
Regardless, he finds himself paired with the same allies in smaller skirmishes repeatedly. Without Lady Edelgard to serve here, Hubert has found himself adrift; what exactly is it that he does without her presence? He's been assured repeatedly that she's safe back home (but how safe? how can she be safe when they're losing the war?) and that he'll be returned to the moment he was pulled when Askr has no more need of him. While he does doubt that, questioning it endlessly will get him nowhere, so Hubert's forced to accept it and attempt to do what he can for the cause here.
Of course, that's easier said than done. His attention is often split between his allies and enemies - after all, how can he truly trust these people when he's only known them for such a short time? Other times it's something else that distracts him - today, it was a sudden feeling of... familiarity, perhaps. Like he's done this exact same thing before. Like he's wielded his tome to blast an enemy that looks remarkably similar in an unfamiliar world almost just like this—
Losing his concentration on a battlefield is a death sentence. Hubert knows this, and it very nearly cost him his head today. Instead, he's yet again saved by the swordsman who seems to always be just out of sight - Lif. Hubert shakes off the momentary daze and finishes off the next enemy bearing down on them before silently chastising himself for allowing such a stupid, pointless thought to distract him.
It's only later at night after they've returned to the castle and after dinner and the usual post-battle report that Hubert seeks Lif out. At the very least he should thank the man for saving him, though this isn't the first time Lif's done so. It's truly quite pathetic that Hubert keeps finding himself caught off-guard so in this world; he certainly would have died today had it not been for Lif's interference. It's best to express his thanks even if Lif was just doing his job.
So where exactly is Lif at this time of night? Not that Hubert's opposed to searching every nook and cranny of the castle, but he suspects that the man isn't the sort to call it a night early.]
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And then, it seemed that fate had once again brought him in a new direction; under the employ of the summoner, the Askrans, alongside...him.
Hubert von Vestra. It felt like a twist of fate straight from Hel's playbook that he had been summoned alongside the dark mage general of the Adrestian Empire, to be summoned alongside him again...it sparks memories. Memories that Lif had wanted to avoid for so long, that he had kept playing over and over again in his mind. But it was useless; all of these feelings were useless, because he was a being without feeling now. Whether or not that was a complete and utter lie was irrelevant; he could not, would not let his feelings for a man who was long gone from this world distract him from his goal of bringing the gods low.
Even so, the summoner made them work alongside each other. It was foolish, really, even if from a tactical standpoint the strategy was sound. Lif was a duelist, and Hubert was a shadow; so long as they played to each other's strengths, they could work just fine with the others. Time and time again, Lif had raced in to save Hubert from what would be likely devastating blows, if not outright death. It was tactically sound. It wasn't his feelings for a man who had been long gone coming to the surface again, and Lif would deny it at any turn. He didn't even remember anyway, and he was just playing his part. That's all it was. That's all it had to be.
Lif doesn't sleep very easily; he's like a wraith stalking the halls, the library, and anywhere that needs protecting. It's likely that Hubert is going to have to search up and down, but it's when he hits the library that, well...]
You're up rather late, Vestra.
[Lif's voice comes from behind Hubert--one might wonder how he gets away with constantly appearing out of nowhere, and to that I say, I don't have to explain shit--but Lif's gaze settles on Hubert, leaning against a bookshelf as he studies the man in front of him.]
For someone who nearly met death today, you seem apt not to rest.
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[The greeting is calm and collected despite Hubert's internal reaction of how are you doing that, that's my job. The problem with being here in Askr is that so many people do exactly what he does, which means occasionally Hubert's going to have to deal with being the one snuck up on instead of doing the sneaking himself.]
It wouldn't do to leave my debts unpaid, so to speak. At the very least, I owe you my thanks for today.
[Without missing a beat, he sweeps into a bow - just low enough to be proper, not enough to risk showing the back of his neck. Not that he expects Lif to turn on him - the man's had plenty of opportunities for that by now, after all - but more out of habit than anything else.]
Thank you. Without your timely assistance today, I wouldn't still be standing here.
[...There's that feeling again - the one that digs at a corner of his mind asking why is this so familiar?]
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Perhaps surprisingly, and damningly, that gets Lif's gaze to avert for the briefest of moments--it's something he remembers all too well. The way Hubert thanked him, whenever he saved his life on the battlefield all but a lifetime ago. He'd always insisted that he was doing what he would do for any ally, back then--and gods, it makes his empty chest ache.]
...Think nothing of it. [Those words, though softer than usual, are probably familiar.] I am simply doing what I have been summoned to do. Nothing more, and nothing less.
[He can only hope that Hubert doesn't notice how he's not looking at the man; certainly, Lif doesn't keep eye contact very well, but this seems...different. It certainly doesn't help that Hubert's become a different man all those years later, and that is a thought process he's killing right there and now--]
I do mean it, however. You know that we are expected early tomorrow for another skirmish. You should not be wasting your time.
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They're words he knows Lif will say before he says them, and that is startling enough to get him to pause for a moment. He doesn't know Lif well enough to be able to predict his exact wording. That comes with time, while he might be able to predict Lady Edelgard's exact wording in response to a familiar action, that is to be expected. After all, he's spent most of his life by her side. But this...
Have we met somewhere before? is what he wants to ask, but such a stupid, inane question is not one he will seriously consider, and so Hubert files that thought away, never to be considered again. Perhaps he truly is tired, that could explain... all of this.]
...I wouldn't consider it "wasting my time", but duly noted. Until tomorrow, then.
[Perhaps he should promise that he won't need Lif's assistance tomorrow... but that's just asking to be proved wrong, so he won't be that bold. With another incline of his head and no indication what caused him to take a moment before responding, Hubert turns to leave.
Sleep should hopefully help with this... absolutely bizarre feeling of something almost like nostalgia.]
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Lif waits. Waits until the footsteps are far enough away, before he lets out a humorless chuckle.]
...You sentimental fool. You knew it would be your downfall then, so why...
[But that's a question to never be acknowledged again.
Morning comes quickly enough, though it feels like an eternity for Lif; it helps that he never needs to sleep, but he's on his horse again like clockwork and they're out to fight again. It's going to be a grueling one, but Lif is prepared. He's always prepared, felling foe after foe and charging on in without regard for anything going on around him. He has to ensure that his enemies are defeated, and he has always been rewarded for going on ahead, after all.
However, he's lost track of some of the foes behind him, in the process. He had trusted that he could clear the way for everyone else and that they could pick off stragglers, but it does seem that there's an archer who's got Deadeye at the ready, and he's looking to get a clean blow in.
And Lif, at the moment, is none the wiser.]
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This one archer could put a stop to the destruction Lif is causing the enemy. One single person could change the tide of battle so easily - and from the looks of it, Lif hasn't noticed the man. Hubert doesn't hesitate; the magic he calls is familiar and powerful, slicing clean through the man before he can get that Deadeye off and cut straight through Lif's defenses. The man goes down with a cry and Hubert picks up the pace. While he has no reason to doubt Lif's ability to take care of himself, there could be other archers or mages preparing to strike.
Later he'll tell himself that his desire to protect Lif is purely a practical one - Lif is the strongest of their team and the best suited for defending Hubert from threats that get too near; they simply cannot afford to lose him - but right now he isn't thinking about why he's rushing forward to make sure Lif is alright because suddenly he's not sure the man truly is. What if...?]
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It's almost nostalgic. He could never rush to the front lines too hard before, try as he might, and yet Hubert has been there for him time and time again. It feels nostalgic, and no different than before.
Hubert will definitely be able to see that Lif's sustained some pretty bad injuries--injuries that would likely see a lesser man (in physicality, because lord knows he's lesser in all other manners) falling back. It's probably strange just how many of these enemies have had Guard on them; usually Open the Future would be able to help him in situations like these, but...]
Vestra. How...many are left?
[Lif's tone attempts to be level, despite his injuries, but the pain escapes into his tone and that's definitely an indicator for how much punishment he;'s taken. If he extends himself any further, there's a possibility he could fall here. It's not something on Lif's mind; he's been a soldier of Hel for so long that death doesn't even feel real. But as always, Lif's priorities are with the battlefield; always are, and always have been.]
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That should be the last of them. If there are others, they've undoubtedly started to retreat.
[And their allies will undoubtedly chase them down. They aren't exactly known for routing enemies. They're known for killing them.
But the problem here isn't the enemies, it's what's happened to Lif. In their short time together, Hubert's never seen him this injured. Usually he's able to heal himself while fighting, and he walks away with minimal injuries, but today...]
Let me see your injuries.
[He's not a healer. There was a time when the Professor sought to teach Hubert Faith magic, but it barely went anywhere because he never cared for it. Still, he can at least assess the damage and provide some support until they can reach a healer... though admittedly, with Lif's unique physiology, Hubert's not entirely sure his own medical knowledge (rather lacking though it may be) will be of any use. Still, his tone offers no room for argument.]
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Cease. I am fine, and I am--perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and it is not necessary. Go back to the--
[It's as if on cue that his horse decides that she's had enough of Lif's pontificating, and she decides to express this by way of promptly bucking Lif off of her back and sending him to the ground. His weapon falls out of his hand and perhaps thankfully, he falls onto his back so Hubert can actually get a good look at what's happened.
It seems to be the culmination of many smaller injuries; given that his defenses tend to be inhumanly strong, there's many darkened cuts into the glowing blue parts of his body, and in general he seems like he's been dealing with a battle of attrition. One mage seems to have gotten a good hit off on him with Gronnwolf or something similar, given the almost magical bite injury he's sustained on one of his legs, so...walking is perhaps surprisingly out of the question for him.
Lif doesn't even look at Hubert. His dignity is already shattered, he's just giving up and letting the man assess the damage.]
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Anyway, he kneels beside Lif to assess the damage. He doesn't reach out to touch - partially because he isn't a healer and partially because that's rather rude - but he can tell that this is definitely not going to be a fun trip home for Lif. Shame they don't have a dedicated healer with them...]
I should be able to stop the bleeding, though I can do little more than that. Hold still.
[wait hubert you can't do that, you're a red mage, you aren't allowed to heal—]
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Nevertheless, though, Lif promptly avoids all eye contact again while Hubert checks him over. It's humiliating, really, though he feels his face growing warm too. It manifests as the blue around his face darkening, if only just a bit, but--
It dissipates, along with Lif's lack of eye contact, when Hubert brings up that he can do more than stop the bleeding. Wait, what is he talking about, he's just a--]
What are you talking about? You never--
[liked the idea of learning such things.
...He shouldn't have spoken up. Lif's eye contact becomes minimal again, but he acquiesces.]
...Do as you will. You can't exactly make this much worse.
[jesus christ lif]
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No, it hardly matters now. Hubert dismisses it and scoffs at the rest of Lif's statement.]
I very well could were I to attempt anything more.
[His ability to heal really is that bad. Though it'd probably be more like using Reciprocal Aid rather than injuring Lif further. Still, the point stands!!
Anyway, Hubert holds a hand out over the most severe of the cuts, weak Faith magic spreading out to at the very least seal it. It's merely a temporary solution, but it will stop the bleeding, and he's able to do that for all of the bleeding cuts before he has to stop.]
There's nothing I can do for your leg, unfortunately. Do you believe your steed will be willing to carry you back?
[...okay, he couldn't help the sarcasm there, but what did you expect of him??]
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[It's not pleading, but it is just so very tired. Please, he's dealt with enough today, leave him alone--
Either way, though, he lets Hubert continue his work at least; he's a little surprised that Hubert has even minor knowledge of this, given his hatred of the faith. Lif watches carefully as Hubert works, and when he's finished and makes that little comment he finds himself scoffing.]
She had better. I doubt I could get back there by myself--
[And try as he might to get up, though, he winds up falling back down onto a knee again and grimaces. He. Might need some help here...admittedly, his horse does look to Hubert and she seems to walk over to him and offer her reins. Seems you're invited too if you want, Hubert...?]
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Hubert moves to help Lif up - he's not taking no for an answer, so c'mon, up we go!!]
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Lif goes tense. Mostly in surprise; he's not sure if he's more surprised that Hubert's willing to actually try and help him, or if the fact that Hubert's strong enough to support him now is...
It's doing something, at least, and his face darkens further.]
You--you could have waited.
[At the very least getting on the horse should be easy, and she's very cooperative. The real question is who's taking the reins here for the moment.]
You should not be wasting your time on me, Vestra. I am capable of caring for myself.
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I've no doubts that you are, but in your current condition, you'd take twice as long as necessary. To put it in a way you're all too familiar with - it's more practical for me to assist you now.
[There's a touch of sarcasm there, of course, but he does mean it. Practically, leaving Lif on his own to struggle back to the castle would waste time and resources; Lif's wounds could even be agitated by his struggles, so it's best to cooperate.
Anyway, this is Lif's horse and Hubert's not exactly skilled at riding (though he does have some training with horses, at least) so she's all yours! Once Lif's up, Hubert will follow, frowning for a moment as he decides where to put his hands. Lif's rather spikey attire makes this harder than it should be, but he finally settles for holding onto Lif's waist. There isn't a great place to hold onto his shoulders and just clinging to his cape won't be sturdy enough to keep Hubert on the horse should she pick up speed or traverse rough terrain. So this too is practical, albeit a bit embarrassing. Ugh, this is why he prefers to just teleport everywhere... Shame that's not one of his tome's effects!!]
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...Nonetheless, Lif doesn't gesture for the horse to go until Hubert is fully secured, which--yeah, due to his spiky attire is going to be hard, now that he thinks of it. He supposes Hubert will just have to deal, and admittedly he'll have to deal with whatever Hubert actually decides to do.
...He's just so glad Hubert can't see his face darkening further at that, dear god he's lost practically all of his glow--]
Let's just--get back to the castle and get this farce over and done with.
[At the very least, the ride home is swift--his horse at least takes some care to make sure not to jostle them both around too much, but it is a bit of a bumpy ride if mostly due to the terrain. They're back to the castle in relatively short order, though, and once they've reached a stop, Lif finds himself scoffing.]
...I suppose it is my turn to thank you now, isn't it?
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as a treat).]Of course.
[The trip back isn't all that long at all, and Lif's horse certainly seems to be doing her best not to jostle them too much, so he doesn't really have anything to complain about. Still, Hubert is a bit pink when he dismounts.]
Only doing my part, though I'll accept it regardless.
[It would be hypocritical of him to try to downplay it when he insisted on thanking Lif last time. Fair's fair and all that.]
I trust you'll see yourself to a healer without the need of an escort?
[Not that he'd be opposed to escorting Lif, but that might actually kill poor Lif of embarrassment.]
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Please. I'll be fine to get there on my own; you don't need to focus your efforts on a dead man. Save your concern for the living.
[Lif just kind of shakes his head, really. He doesn't get why Hubert's electing to care so much about him; he's almost nostalgic for the times in the past, when he...]
...I'll make it there fine on my own. You should send a report to Prince Alfonse and the others, like you always do.
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I wasn't aware you were keeping so close an eye on me.
[Yes, it's true that he always does insist on a thorough briefing and that's hardly unusual - if he doesn't do it from their team, who will? Perhaps he's reading too much into it, though; it's not as though Lif's truly keeping that close a watch on him - otherwise Hubert would have noticed by now.
So instead he shakes his head and lifts his shoulders a bit.]
Very well. May your injuries heal swiftly, Lif.
[It's not... quite as light and dismissive as he was going for, but he turns to take his leave anyway while opting not to think any more on it.]
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[It's an almost instantaneous answer, one that Lif regrets the moment he says it. In a way, it's damning him further; he shouldn't bother with this, nor pursue it. This isn't even the man he once knew; that man has gone back to his home, if Lif's final act was successful before Hel set upon him. That man is by all rights dead.
And yet, as Hubert walks away, Lif watches for a bit none the less. He's so foolish, so nostalgic, and he hates it, he hates it--]
...Tch. You haven't changed a bit, Hubert.
[Lif stumbles away, uncaring if Hubert actually heard him or not, and it takes him a little while to reach the healers--needless to say, the news isn't good. It is recoverable, as all things are with the summoner's assistance, but even with that, he's going to have to sit the next few days out.
It's a pity, really, that Lif's never been inclined to listen. Granted, most of their healers are simply competent at best (given they seem to have abysmal luck at summoning anyone with more than the moral fiber of tissue paper), and Lif has a terrible habit of trying to sneak out of bed to join the fray. Once he was left with some firm words from one of the women in charge; the next, and he's apparently got someone who's going to be watching over him to make sure he doesn't get out now.
Great. At least it can't get much worse than this?]
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It's soft enough as he leaves that he's not quite sure he heard it right, and Hubert doesn't pause to ask if he did because... it likely wasn't meant for him to be heard to begin with. He's reading too deeply into things; he's certain of that now. Besides, it isn't possible that Lif knew him before...
Before what, exactly? Becoming a member of Hel's army? For all his research on Lif, he's somehow missed who exactly Lif was before that.
It doesn't matter, he tells himself. It doesn't matter who Lif was because that's not who he is now. And yet dismissing it like that is far harder than it should be.
Initially, Hubert is pleased to see that Lif has been kept in bed. His injuries had looked bad enough to require some more serious treatment - and given their rather lackluster options, it makes sense it will take a bit longer than if they had Linhardt or Manuela running around here. But that quickly gives way to concern when Lif isn't around for the next battle, and concern becomes worry by the third. At the very least Lif is likely driving the healers crazy, Hubert reasons as he comes up with yet another excuse to visit Lif. He doesn't need to have this many, but somehow it feels wrong simply to show up because he was worried.
So he slips into the clinic later in the evening - it should be late enough for most people to be asleep, which would be the perfect time for an escape attempt... so is Lif attempting just that or has he finally given up and decided it's not worth being yelled at and/or quite literally strapped to the bed with magical restraints?]
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Usually, being the keyword.
Deirdre, the kind woman who practically runs this place, has certainly been run ragged trying to keep him in his bed. She said that the most optimistic outlook was a week with plenty of bedrest so his wounds could heal; that was unacceptable to him. Feeling nothing, he absolutely kept trying to get out of bed to join the fray; he had places to be and battles to fight, and while he certainly expected to draw the usually sedate woman's ire, he didn't think about the workload he was putting on her and the other two idiots working with her. There was a pain in his chest; certainly not guilt, because he couldn't feel anything anymore, but something. It was vexing, at the very least to not be there for Hubert, but...
Well, it doesn't stop him from attempting to get out tonight as well. Deirdre was exhausted and had to be almost literally carried out by Sigurd, and Iago and Gangrel both don't like staying here longer than they have to. But Hubert won't even have to step inside to see Lif attempting to limp out again, and those dull red eyes on him as he realizes he's been caught.
Damn it.]
...Let me guess; she sent you here?
[Because Hubert clearly has no reason to come on his own??]
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If you mean Deirdre, she did not.
[It would have been easier to lie. It would have been better to lie, because then he could pretend that this wasn't... what? A random whim of his? But no, it's a lie that could be easily disproven, and Hubert isn't going to make a mistake that stupid. All Lif would have to do is ask Deirdre about it, and her look of confusion would shatter that to pieces immediately. Better to be straightforward about his intentions.]
Though it would seem she would be right to find someone to look after you at night. Don't tell me you think you're healed enough to be out on the field?
[Though given the slight incline of his head and the small smirk, it's obvious Hubert's already assumed that anyway and the question's more for show.]
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...You already know the answer, Vestra. I'm of no use here; all I'm doing is taking up a valuable bed. I am--fine.
[That much is said strained, as Lif attempts to shift a bit, wincing in the process.]
...If not that, then why are you here?
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I thought you might be bored; remaining still while recovering hardly seems like the sort of thing you'd find acceptable.
[And from within his cape, he pulls a book! Hubert hands it over, expecting Lif to accept.]
While I doubt you'll find reading much more acceptable, perhaps it will help stave off the boredom. I confess I'm not familiar with your tastes for reading material, but this one seemed promising.
["Promising" in this case was... well, perhaps a little odd. It stuck out to him more than anything else in the library, and though he wasn't sure why or how, he thought Lif would appreciate it.
As for whether or not Lif actually will... well, that sort of depends. It's a book on tactics - something Hubert and Alfonse once poured over together on the eve of a particularly difficult battle, towards the end of Hubert's previous stay in Askr. They spent hours building and scrapping battle plans in an attempt to find something that would serve Askr well - and though it was a difficult and stressful night... it was one of the last ones where they were actually able to spend time and joke a bit as they worked.]
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you vastly overestimate this man's sense of self esteem. or self preservation, even.]
...!
[But no, something more important comes through in Lif's expression--for all he's tried to quash various feelings, negative and positive, he's always been a man of sentiment. Even as Alfonse, this was true of him; he enjoyed remembering little things. Nights spent in the quiet company of the library, pouring over books. Sometimes with friends, dear friends who you could make even the most harrowing times a little lighter.
Of course Lif recognizes that book. He'd be a fool not to. It was one of the last good memories he had of Hubert, and he pauses pretty significantly at the book as he stares at it.
It feels like a confrontation. Lif knows--deep down, that this isn't what Hubert intends. He knew better than anyone that Hubert had a kind side, layered underneath the image he had to present for Princess Edelgard's sake.]
...I...
[Words dry up in his throat, lost. He stares at Hubert, finally, fixing him with something...wary. Guarded, almost. He doesn't accept the book, not yet, but...]
...What made you choose this book?
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Hubert waits. He doesn't interrupt because whatever's going through Lif's mind must be quite important to earn a look of surprise like that.]
It stood out to me.
[How, exactly, he's not sure he can describe without sounding insane. It would be easy to lie about it, but...
But for some absolutely bizarre reason, Hubert doesn't want to. So though the answer is crazy, perhaps it's worth sharing.]
...It almost felt... familiar. As though out of all the books I could look through, this one was the right one. I suppose you could call it a gut feeling, but I've never been one to act on such a thing.
[It was something more than that, he's sure of it.]
Why do you ask?
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Lif doesn't have any blood left to run cold at a statement like that, but Hubert will almost certainly be able to see the way Lif tenses at that statement. He didn't want to believe that there was a chance that he'd see this man again, much less one who could've possibly been one of his most stalwart allies. His friends.
Lif's gaze hardens at that, though. He forces it to. Even if he is the man he once knew, the boy Hubert knew in kind is--]
...It would seem your gut feeling led you in the right direction. I am...not one for reading, but I do prefer these.
[It's guarded. It's so, so incredibly guarded.]
...You've been bothering me quite a bit as of late, when you do not even have to. And now you're going out of your way to bring me entertainment, as if you're looking for an excuse to spend time with me.
[Lif's gaze trains itself on Hubert; accusatory, intentionally so.]
I want to know why, Vestra. Why do you persist? What do you stand to gain from this?
[Is it a heavy level of deflection away from the fact that he too has been going out of his way? Yes, absolutely. Does Lif care?? Of course not.
The dead don't have feelings, after all, despite all evidence to the contrary.]
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But Lif... Things are different with Lif. He's not sure he could ever articulate how, so he leaves that thought alone and refuses to elaborate on it, even to himself.]
In this particular instance, it serves our healers to have you stay put. The less strain we place on them now, the easier their job will be when they've other injured to deal with. I saw a problem and sought to solve it, that's all.
[That isn't all, but the answer is easy and he inclines his head a bit as if considering.]
Though your reaction leads me to believe that there is something more to it. What have I done to upset you so?
[Despite the wording, it is a serious question. If he's stepped on Lif's toes, then he owes Lif an apology. Though they may not be comrades, they are temporary allies here, and Hubert doesn't want to insult Lif, accidentally or otherwise.]
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Lif's eyes close, though. After a moment.]
...You haven't upset me.
[When Lif opens them again, there's something more somber in his expression. His look goes down towards the book in question, and he lets out something soft; something close to a chuckle, at least.
It might even sound a bit familiar.]
There are simply far too many coincidences, for this to be a matter of random selection. This book...it is something that holds a few significant memories to me. That is all.
[He doesn't know if he should elaborate; he's not entirely sure how. But he's putting that out there and at least taking the book for the moment.]
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Lif's answer is likewise something he knew, somehow. It isn't a surprise to hear it, despite the fact that it should be, given Hubert had no way of knowing such a thing.]
I wasn't aware of your fondness for tactics.
[Which... is sort of true, in that he hadn't realized it despite this weird sense of deja vu, as though somehow he did actually know this. Even as he says it, Hubert looks unsure, as if that isn't quite the response he wanted - or maybe it isn't the right response at all.
He shakes his head as if to clear it. This isn't getting him anywhere.]
Will it suitably occupy you until you're free to return to the battlefield?
[...which is probably the most stunted way he could have put that, but alright.]
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And if it doesn't?
[And yet, those damning words leave him before he can take them back. His empty chest feels a phantom tightness, and his tone almost seems...amused.]
Do you intend to do anything more about it?
[He hopes Hubert doesn't. (He hopes Hubert does, gods, give him more of an excuse--)]
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[Though whether that's on the battlefield in the immediate future or not is up in the air.]
I thought it best to at least provide you with some form of entertainment, but I won't stop you, should you decide you know better than the healers.
[Perhaps if things were different, he would. Some small part of him wonders if this is the right call, if maybe he should intervene more - if not for their healers, then for Lif himself. But...
But nothing. Lif is hardly a replacement for Lady Edelgard (and such a thought is an insult to them both) and Hubert won't consider it any further. Lif will do what he wants in the end, and Hubert doubts he has the power to truly stop him even if he wanted to.]
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...And yet...]
Some might accuse you of growing soft-hearted, Vestra. [...] But...I suppose I can refrain, for the time being.
[He doesn't want to. But maybe getting caught up in sentiment, just this once, will actually benefit him. He'll at least start to struggle his way back, but...]
...Thank you. You did not have to go out of your way like that.
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You don't need to thank me for that... but I'll accept it regardless.
[He watches Lif for a moment to make sure that he'll actually be able to make it back. You going to be okay, or do you need a hand...]
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[It probably doesn't help that he doesn't have Éljúðnir to support himself--damn Sigurd for thinking to confiscate that from him. But while Lif can give thanks, asking for help is a whole different beast.
Please help, this is pathetic...the bed's at least several feet away, given that it was supposed to be a deterrent to keep him there.]
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Then they won't question this.
[C'mon, Lif, give him your arm. He is not accepting no for an answer. He's going to help you back to bed whether you want him to or not.]
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W-What are you--
[It's an unintentionally startled voice that Hubert gets at that--rude, he's supposed to be the one who shocks and scares people??? He doesn't protest being helped back to bed, at least, though he just. Very pointedly is going to ignore how almost gallant that was of Hubert.
Dear gods, feelings are a mistake and that just proves it. Eternally. At the very least, Lif can get himself laid back down easily, but the glow on his face is certainly dulled from it's usual and he's not looking at Hubert.]
...Thank you. For your assistance. [...] Don't forget to get some rest yourself, Vestra.
[So I don't have to worry, Lif wants to say, but he won't. of course he won't say that much.]
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You don't need to worry yourself over me.
[But with that said he does hold up a hand in farewell.]
Do try not to trouble the healers too much.
[And with that, he takes his leave; though this wasn't exactly what he was expecting when he entered the infirmary, he leaves it feeling satisfied. At the very least Lif will hopefully stay put for now... even if Hubert has more questions than answers at this point. Still, he doesn't intend to remain awake for much longer - so even though he didn't say it, he'll be sure to get some rest as well.]
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It's a shame Gustav is dead and that their foe shows no signs of stopping in the slightest.
Alfonse paces the library, grabbing every tactical tome he can pour over to try and plan their next move. If he doesn't do something, Askr and Embla will fall; he knows that much. He can't afford a single second of idling, no matter how much Sharena insists he needs to rest in their father's stead, or any of the other heroes insist on such things. They've been backed into a corner--how exactly can you out maneuver an enemy who legitimately cannot die? That's been the question on Alfonse's increasingly frayed and stressed mind as he studies well into the night.
Even with Veronica looking into anything that the Embla family line could have used to try and ensure Hel won't be a problem, they still have to try and deal with her now. It could be worse; it could be so much worse, and Alfonse knows it. But they need to do something now, while there's still time.
He knows, better than anyone, that if worst comes to worst, they need to send the summoner and their heroes back. But at least for now, guilty as Alfonse feels for asking for every bit of help they can get, they have assistance. And Alfonse is ever thankful for it; despite his insistence on not getting close to heroes, not even he's immune to kinship. It at least helps that they have reliable people around, and his mind drifts to one of them as he pours over his studies.
He wonders if Hubert is out this late, and just what the other man would say if he saw him in here again. It almost makes Alfonse chuckle; it's not as though Hubert could judge, considering his own habits. But Hubert has been a stalwart ally for quite some time, and Alfonse has always appreciated having the rather cold and calculating man around. He's helped Alfonse with tactics several times throughout their battles, and his council has always helped the prince in his times of need. He may not know everything of Princess Edelgard other than what Hubert has told him, but he imagines that she appreciates him just as much, if not moreso.
...What he would do for a good cup of coffee right about now, he muses. He's letting himself drift off too much; back to tactical work. It's not like anyone else is awake at this hour.]
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Though Askr is a far cry from Adrestia and Alfonse is certainly not a replacement for Lady Edelgard, Hubert would be lying if he said he didn't find his experiences here enjoyable. What had started as an attempt to get close to the leadership to learn more about the conflict had quickly morphed into something else entirely. Alfonse is every inch as genuine as he presents himself, and in some ways it's... almost charming in its sincerity. Perhaps it's because Lady Edelgard understands she has to present a front and does so quite well, but seeing someone in a position of power who is truly so straightforward and forthright is something Hubert isn't quite sure he knows how to handle.
That's what drew him to Alfonse initially, and while he attempted to slot himself into the same role he served with Lady Edelgard at first, he quickly realized that he couldn't do the same thing here. Alfonse is not Lady Edelgard, and he can't expect to serve Alfonse in the same way. So he's had to change and adapt here, and while that hasn't been the easiest thing, it has certainly proved an invaluable lesson.
And besides, there's something nice about being treated as Alfonse's equal. While Hubert may have his doubts about the "Hero" title that those summoned to this world have been given, he can acknowledge that they are valuable members of the Askran force in this war.
A war that they will be no closer to winning if they don't put their all into their research, and right around now he assumes Alfonse will be hard at work, but beginning to long for bed. Thus the coffee and thus his presence; two sets of hands will make the work go by quicker.]
I see I was right in assuming you'd be here this late.
[The remark is as wryly pleased as usual, and Hubert offers Alfonse one cup of coffee. The other is of course, for himself.]
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It's only when it becomes obvious who it is that Alfonse allows himself to perk up, and ah...he supposes he should've expected company at this hour. But Alfonse certainly isn't opposed to who joins him; Hubert is a stalwart friend and equal, and knowing that the man has come by in his time of need is...
...It's nice, really. Alfonse's smile is warm when he regards the other man.]
Aha...my apologies. I suppose I have become a little bit more predictable, over time.
[Alfonse will gladly take that coffee like it's an elixir, though, good lord--give him the strength to get through this.]
Thank you. I'm afraid I simply cannot bring myself to sleep, when there is so much that needs to be done...and this will be a great help. I imagine it's the same for you, is it not?
[There's no judgement in his tone; it's simply objective, because he's the exact same way.]