fgdjksa thank you!!! here, have a deleted scene from bodyfic that i never quite got around to finishing
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“I can mend it,” Ferdinand says, the words falling out of his mouth almost of their own volition.
Hubert arches an eyebrow. “You? The noblest of nobles, would dare to humble yourself by mending a button?”
Ferdinand knows Hubert well enough by now to know when he is angry and when he is simply trying to get a rise out of him. He smiles at Hubert and puffs his chest up. “A true noble,” he begins, “should be ready for any sort of emergency at any moment. Whether that be a stab wound or a sudden fever or,” he produces a bobbin and a pincushion from a pocket, “a loose button.”
Hubert sighs, but he shrugs his coat off all the same. Ferdinand has never seen him like this; no matter how much time they have spent together, Hubert has never deigned to let him bear witness to him in this state - in just his shirtsleeves and breeches, coat slung loosely over one arm. The candlelight of the room exaggerates the shadows of his face, and Ferdinand cuts his eyes away. Hubert’s eyes are the pale green of a spring morning, and they are near impossible to look away from.
“Will this take long?”
Ferdinand clears his throat. “No. This uh… will not take long at all. A few minutes. A button is an easy thing to mend!” He is talking too much, he can feel himself doing it, but he cannot stop. If he fills enough of the silence with his words than he will be able to ignore the slope of Hubert’s jawline, the slight definition of his arms beneath his shirt. He and Hubert have become close, as of late, but that closeness has never extended to a state of undress before.
Ferdinand finds that he does not mind at all.
Hubert stands behind him as he mends the button, something that will surely make the task take far longer than it would otherwise. His hand slips, and he pricks his finger, quite badly.
“I thought you knew what you were doing,” Hubert says impassively, watching the blood well up on his finger.
Ferdinand scowls, “I do! It is impossible to focus with you looming over me.” He pulls a handkerchief from his coat pocket and presses it to his finger in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
His back is to Hubert, but he can hear the self-satisfied smirk in his voice when he speaks, “Do you find me distracting, von Aegir? Not very becoming for a noble such as yourself.”
“Do shut up,” Ferdinand says, stuffing his (now bloodied) handkerchief back in his pocket. He resumes his work and Hubert, to his credit, does stand a little further away. Ferdinand almost wishes he hadn’t said anything at all. He finishes mending Hubert’s button in silence.
“Finished,” he declares, standing and turning to face Hubert.
“I suppose I should thank you,” Hubert says, extending a hand to take his coat back.
Ferdinand swallows, “It was no trouble at all.” He offers Hubert his coat, and as he takes it, their hands brush.
Hubert looks away, and puts his coat back on without looking at Ferdinand. “I have business to attend to,” he says.
“Of course,” Ferdinand says. He feels bewildered, and he cannot for the life of him understand why.
Hubert leaves, and Ferdinand is alone in his office, holding his hand to his chest as though to keep something fleeting captive for just a moment longer.
excerpt from ch. 4 of everything i write turns into a body
read the whole fic on ao3!
Ferdinand looks around wildly. There is no one else around to see him make a fool of himself, so this is surely as good a time as any. “There is happiness to look forward to even now,” he says. “Dance with me?”
Hubert opens his eyes and angles his body slightly towards Ferdinand, “The party is long since ended.”
“There is still music, is there not?” Ferdinand says. He’s trying to sound casual about it, but he is surely failing. He doesn’t feel casual, not even a little bit. His whole body feels taunt, and he’s pretty sure that his hands are shaking, but it’s not from the cold.
Hubert’s scowl does not ease, “What music?”
“Well,” Ferdinand says, turning to face Hubert. “There is the sound of crickets, the wind in the trees, the lap of the pond against the docks…” His heartbeat is so loud he can almost taste it: this thudding in his ears might never cease.
“That is not much to dance to.” Hubert says, emotionless, “You cannot keep time to the wind.”
He’s already dug a grave this deep, it is pointless to pretend that he can hide his feelings. Any heartbreak between the two of us will be his doing, he’d told Edelgard, and he intends to mean it. Ferdinand exhales slowly and takes Hubert’s hand, bringing it up to his chest. “There is always my heartbeat,” he says.
Hubert does not move. There is no flash of a knife to eviscerate him, no swirl of his cloak as he sweeps away. Ferdinand cannot see his expression, and he is perfectly content that way. He stands perfectly still with his hand pressed to Ferdinand’s chest, feeling his too-fast heartbeat. “Ferdinand,” he says, and a condemnation is sure to follow, Ferdinand can feel it. “Look at me.”
Ferdinand lifts his gaze to meet Hubert’s, expecting the worst. Instead, Hubert is looking back down at him with an expression that is very nearly devoid of malicious intent, red dusting his pale cheeks. “Hubert, your face,” Ferdinand says, “you are blushing.”
“I’m aware.” Hubert says. “Now, you said you wanted to dance? I’m afraid I’m not much of a leader,” Hubert says, bringing his free hand up to rest on Ferdinand’s shoulder.
Ferdinand’s mouth is dry, and he can still feel his blood roaring in his ears. His ridiculous heart is going to leap right out of his chest at this rate. He’s going to die in Hubert’s arms before they have even ever kissed and it will all be very poetic and tragic. Dorothea can sing about it at his funeral. It will make a splendid opera. He hopes everyone cries. “That is convenient, for I am not much of a follower,” he replies, bringing his left hand to rest at Hubert’s waist. It fit there better than he had thought it would.
Hubert chuckles, threading his fingers through Ferdinand’s right hand, the one that is still at his chest. “I remember.”
“Yes. Right.” Ferdinand says. He feels a fool. For all his talk of nobility and the values that it’s instilled in him, he cannot even woo one man correctly.
“Well?” Hubert says, looking down at him. Those three extras inches of height have never seemed so vast before. “You are supposed to be leading.”
“Right.” Ferdinand says again. He adjusts his grip on Hubert’s hand slightly, and then steps forward.
In truth, Hubert is no dancer. It does not help that there is no music to guide them, no din of conversation to fall back on if the silence between them becomes overbearing. There is only Ferdinand’s heartbeat, still pounding in his ears louder than any drum he has ever heard. It has to be enough. It is enough.
Ferdinand could dance a waltz in his sleep, but he has never been more grateful to be awake before. There are no words between them, just this slow, halting dance. Ferdinand counts threes in his head and is sure that his rhythm is uneven, but that hardly matters in the wake of Hubert’s hand on his shoulder and Hubert’s hand clasped in his.
After a few minutes the line of tension in Ferdinand’s shoulders eases and he tightens his grip on Hubert’s hand. “You volunteered for the White Heron Cup back at the academy, did you not?” He asks, a smile curling across his face.
Hubert clears his throat, “I take it my dancing skills are not up to par.”
Ferdinand laughs, “They are perfectly adequate, to be truthful. Although I highly doubt that you would have beaten Felix.”
“Would you believe that perfectly adequate is the best my dancing has ever been called?” Hubert asks.
Ferdinand’s grin widens, “I am not surprised at all. Were I not such an outstanding partner, I daresay this would be disastrous.”
Hubert opens his mouth, presumably with some witty retort, but steps on Ferdinand’s foot before he can reply.
“Ah, I see it is no use,” Ferdinand says. “We will have to keep at it. Your dancing skills need much work, and I will bear the burden of being your teacher.”
To his surprise, Hubert does not continue their conversation. Instead, he slides his hand down from Ferdinand’s shoulder to his waist. “Must it always be this much of an event with you?” He says tonelessly, as if Ferdinand hadn’t frozen in place the second that Hubert’s hand moved.
“I-” Ferdinand opens his mouth and then closes it again.
Hubert looks pleased. “Have I rendered you speechless? Had I known it was this easy…”
Ferdinand licks his lips. Hubert’s eyes flick down when he does so and Ferdinand does not know how to process this emotion. He should say something, do something! He is Ferdinand von Aegir, and all it takes for him to lose himself is a gentle touch from Hubert.
“Dancing!” He says, “We were. Dancing.”
“You stopped,” Hubert replies, still looking obnoxiously unaffected.
Ferdinand still does not move, and Hubert squeezes his hand gently and lets go, setting his other hand on Ferdinand’s waist. Cautiously, as if he is approaching a horse that will flee if he moves too quickly, Ferdinand loops his arms around Hubert’s neck.
How it goes is this: Hubert says something that makes Ferdinand laugh, and Hubert’s arms tighten around Ferdinand’s waist, and they sway, lightly, in time with the gentle evening breeze. Ferdinand steps closer, rests his head on Hubert’s chest, and Hubert’s arms do not move from around his waist.
Ferdinand has had lovers, in the past, but they had always been flights of fancy, casual things for both parties. He has always assumed he will one day marry a girl with advantageous connections at his father’s behest, and that in time the two of them wouldgrow to love each other. But his father is imprisoned, and they are at war. Anything can happen. He has danced with plenty of pretty girls, has danced with Linhardt and Caspar before, but he has never danced like this, dancing simply for the excuse to be close to another. He has never been held simply for the sake of being held before. It makes him feel safe and care for in a way that, if he had any remaining sense of propriety, would concern him greatly. But now it seems that that there are few things more important than Hubert’s arms around his waist, the warmth from his palms seeping into Ferdinand’s bones. Hubert’s chin rests on top of his head and Ferdaind’s emotions swell so greatly that he feels he may choke on them. There is no plausible deniability about this sort of intimacy.
anyways! it’s finished! my ferdibert fic clocked in at around 25k, and i’m terribly pleased with it :D here’s the epilogue, which can be read out of context as a standalone post-war one-shot as well!
read the whole fic here!
Dearest Dorothea,
I apologize for the lapse in response. Things in Enbarr are quite frantic with the war’s one-year anniversary approaching. We all understand why you are not here, of course, but I miss you more and more with each passing day. Brigid is lucky, to have a jewel such as yourself living in their midst.
What else shall I tell you? Edelgard and Byleth continue to be the happiest married couple to ever grace this earth. Edelgard is a just emperor, and her rule is all the stronger for Byleth’s presence at her side. I can hear you asking already - Hubert and I have no plans for matrimony at the moment, and I promise that you will be the first person I tell should anything change.
Speaking of, how is our dear Petra doing? Every piece of news we hear from Brigid seems cause for rejoice - it truly is entering a golden age under Petra’s rule. I know you and her have grown even closer as of late: you will keep me updated on that front, yes? I am well aware that it has been some months since we’ve seen each other in person, but you are one of my dearest friends and I expect to be kept up to date on your personal life.
It seems that I write to you too often; I feel I will soon run out of things to say, and yet I have scarcely written a thing! If only I was able to space out my letters to you more but, alas, we both know that will not be the case. I simply cannot help myself.
Renaltia is well! I am still trying to convince Hubert to warm up to her, although I fear my efforts may be in vain. They tolerate each other just fine, but she bit him the other day and he has still not forgiven her. Pathetic, no? One of the most feared men in the empire, capable of all sorts of terrible things in the name of Lady Edelgard, and yet a horse nips him and he cannot overcome it. He is fortunate that I still love him, despite his inability to make nice with my lady.
I will write you again after the celebrations for the end of the war. I am not certain precisely who will attend: Edelgard has talked Bernadetta into visiting, but there is not yet any word from Linhardt or Caspar. If they do happen to show, it will doubtlessly be a late and dramatic entrance.
Hubert and I have been discussing a holiday, although not a long one, and likely wrapped up in a diplomatic mission. Let me rephrase: Edelgard and I think that it would be good for Hubert to get away for a bit and we believe a diplomatic mission to Brigid might be a more than adequate chance for that. I would not mind a brief respite either, I must admit. I do not know how you are faring but it is… difficult, to think that this time last year we were still trapped in the midst of the war. I know it weighed heavily on you, and lately I have not been able to stop thinking about it. I think I will have nightmares about it for the rest of my life, but at the very least we all made it out alive. I wish the same were true of our former friends from other houses.
I digress, I did not mean to turn so morose. It is hard, this time of year. I know you understand. I should be going, although we both know I would much rather sit here and write you a much longer letter than I am capable of. Let me know if Petra would be amiable to Hubert and I visiting for a diplomatic venture.
Yours as always,
Ferdinand von Aegir
Ferdinand sets down his quill just as the door opens, although he doesn’t bother lifting his head. He would recognize Hubert’s footsteps anywhere, and especially here, in their shared quarters. It had seemed foolish, to share a room immediately after this thing between them had truly started to blossom, but in the weeks after the war, Ferdinand was grateful for it. They all had nightmares now, and even if he still is not privy to the details of Hubert’s, he has grown familiar with the weight of Hubert’s head on his chest after a particularly trying night. They are all recovering as best they can.
Hubert closes the door behind him with a click, then strides over to where Ferdinand sits. He stops behind Ferdinand and leans down, kissing the top of his head. Ferdinand smiles; no matter how frequently Hubert remains sweet and gentle in his affections, he does not think he will ever truly get used to it.
“You are back early,” Ferdinand says.
The bags under Hubert’s eyes are more pronounced than usual, but that is not unusual after a night’s work. Destroying Those Who Slither in the Dark is rotten and tiresome work, but there is no one else Hubert would trust with such things. The war has been over for almost a year, and soon Hubert and Edelgard’s will draw to a close as well. There is much that he can not - or will not - tell Ferdinand of his missions, but Ferdinand knows they wear on him. After the war first ended, Hubert was gone almost nightly, but his outings have become fewer the more time has passed. He knows that he and Edelgard have almost done what it is they set out to, and that afterwards Edelgard’s reforms can begin in earnest.
Hubert presses his face into the crown of his head, “Are you complaining? I can leave if you wish.”
Ferdinand smiles, “It is not like you to seek out compliments so obviously. You know very well I do not wish you to leave.”
“I suppose I do,” Hubert says, looking down at him. There is no expression on his face, something that Ferdinand finally understands is what contentment looks like on Hubert. “What were you working on?”
“I was writing to Dorothea,” he replies, “updates about the upcoming anniversary, and she insists that I send her every piece of gossip I hear.”
“Anything worth noting?” Hubert asks.
Ferdinand shrugs, “No, not particularly. Come sit, I missed you.” He threads his fingers through Hubert’s, then tugs, pulling him sideways onto his lap. Hubert scowls, but his grip on Ferdinand’s hand tightens, and he goes where he is wanted without complaint.
Hubert is very still, and Ferdinand bites back the urge to laugh. For all that they have been intimate together, Hubert is still so odd about affection for affection’s sake. He always seems to think that Ferdinand will change his mind and no longer wish to touch him, as if Ferdinand would rather be doing anything other than exactly that. A long moment passes, and then Hubert rests his head on Ferdinand’s shoulder, his face pressed into the junction of his neck and shoulder.
“Dorothea is convinced we will be married any day now,” Ferdinand says.
Hubert laughs, his breath warm on Ferdinand’s skin, “As if you would propose without telling her beforehand.”
“Oh, I am the one who must propose?” Ferdinand says, trying to sound affronted. He is disgustingly fond of this man, truly.
“It seems only fair,” Hubert says stiffly, “I kissed you first.”
Ferdinand presses his face into the top of Hubert’s head to swallow his laughter, “Yes, I suppose you did.” He lets the silence settle over them, comfortable like a blanket, and basks in the safety of their room. “Would you say yes?” He says, after some time has passed. He should feel more nervous, but instead all he feels is loved.
Hubert twists to look up at him, “I believe I would.”
Ferdinand smiles and leans down to kiss Hubert, soft and gentle. “I will take that under advisement,” he says, and kisses him once more.
ellorgast replied to your post “Anything ferdibert I just love how you write them”
Shirtsleeves and breaches and hands brushing! The scandal!
what if....i mended a button for you and we were both very tense for no good reason and we were in the middle of a way and we were both boys haha just kidding... unless?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/6
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Characters: Ferdinand von Aegir, Hubert von Vestra, My Unit | Byleth, Black Eagles Students (Fire Emblem), Edelgard von Hresvelg
Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Pining, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, all the black eagles are in this i just. didnt want to tag everyone, background edeleth if you squint
Summary:
If Ferdinand von Aegir has been asked five years ago what he was going to be when he grew up, his answer would not take more than a second’s thought. Now, he’s just hoping to live to see the next day. Edelgard’s cause is just, but her war is long, and there is no end in sight. Through it all, with the same unchanging expression and grim determination, is Hubert. It’s nice, to have one thing that stays the same.
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The first chapter’s up!!! This fic has been my baby for the past month and I’m honestly so excited to start posting it! It’s mostly written and will update every friday! Let me know what you think!
also sorry the update of body fic is so late!!!!! the semester just started and it’s been a Lot, chapter 5 is written and just needs final edits and the epilogue is mostly written
