𝙪𝙣𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙙. @spirestar : “ i vowed to protect you, didn’t i? ” from hubert, to edelgard.
𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹. love keeps her afloat, even when the night with its black teeth threatens to disable her. and sometimes, it does. when edelgard awakes with his spine twisted, heavy blankets wrapped around his waist and legs as though she had been caught running with it around her middle, the first thing that strikes her is that her body is a gruesome thing, reeking of matrix. his skin is always slick with sweat, the adrenaline - fueled kind, so it stinks like the inside of an animal. once, he had been in the stables when his old mare had given birth in the middle of the blue sea moon. it was a sweltering day before the sun even hung itself that high, she remembers, because it made everything in the stable smell stronger. a foal was lying in the sopping wet hay, trembling, with its head nodding forward, like it was too tired to keep itself upright. the smell about the stalls was overpowering. that dampness, that musk of life and the letting of blood and amniotic fluid and fetal membranes — that is the scent that swallows him whole after a night spent under the heel of memories he’d rather forget, paralyzing and dreadful to edelgard’s raw - edged nerves. this form is mutinous.
a trickle of moonlight streams through the gap behind the heavy textile thrown over the window, an old tapestry from the dining hall, singed and sun - bleached. the rest of the room is dark in the way that only a snowless winter night can be and filled with unknown shapes. he’d come to with a strangled gasp, like some unseen pressure was applied to his throat. sitting up, pushing herself as close to the stone wall at her back as possible, a hand started to reach for the blade concealed below the deflated goosedown pillow when recognition flashed over her ashen face. the tension lets from edelgard’s body, not entirely, but enough for his hand to go limp. he’s not sure what he was expecting. a ghost? little that blade would do, then. at her bedside is instead a familiar face, blanched by the moon and complemented by heavy shadow in every spot the light can’t touch. his expression is drawn, his mouth a firm, sad line. the one visible eye is streaked with concern.
“ oh, hubert — ! ” when her voice finds her, it’s small as a mouse, and cracking. she could cry. she could collapse into him, bury her face in his incense - soaked robes and wail for a long time, mourning wails. how else can she respond, when she saw her youngest brother before her moments earlier? the boy was still moving around as though he were living, but with a mouth swarming with white worms, like he’d suffocated on them. yes, the experiments hadn’t killed him. it was the lingering infection, his blood going septic. she wants to hold and be held by someone but she’s so tired, all she can do is rub her eyes with trembling fingers until her eyelids feel sore. hearing his voice is enough. the warmth of it runs over bare shoulders like sunlight, like a tight embrace. the specters leave them with a sigh. shadows stop stirring in the corners of the room, but the stench of his suffering remains, astringent, laying over them both.
weakness comes to him like this; in violent fits. like any lord, she is in dire need of protection. she is not infallible. what moves someone to devotion, to protection at all costs? love is it. so, she grabs onto it and will not let go. edelgard nods, more to himself than to hubert, and rubs his open palms over his face, which is wet with cooling perspiration. “ yes, you did. ”
his head tilts back, knocking gently against the wall. every inch of his body burns, but the skin is pebbled with gooseskin. with anyone else, she would be gathering the blankets about herself chastely, sending them away before they could see her broken and bare, but not with hubert, never with him. “ i don’t know what i’d do … , ” she trails off, then catches herself with a self - conscious laugh, half - hidden behind her hand. not that there’s any point to attempts to obscure himself from hubert — he anticipates his every action and reaction, and reflexively adjusts himself for whatever it is that edelgard may present to him. still, it’s difficult to think of living any other way, of being unrestrained, loosed from all her chains. “ do i even need to say it? ”
through hooded eyes, she spares her companion an appraising look, half - apologetic. “ thank you, my friend. i’m sorry you must see me like this. ”
