Dark Rumors [Hubert & Henry]
starter for @weirdteafever
For once the new rumors hadn't been tacked on to the long list that followed Hubert's name. To most who found themselves surrounded by whispers and furtive glances wherever they went, such a discovery would have meant relief. The sign of someone new and more interesting to gossip about, or a waning interest in their eccentricities. But to Hubert, they were suspect.
Rumors had become like an old friend. Whether they were conjured from his association with the future Emperor, by his own asocial tendencies, or by the way he seemed to always smile knowingly to himself, amused by some unspoken thought, unsavory stories had followed him for as long as he could remember. At some point in his youth, he made the decision not to allow them to control and shame him anymore, and adapted his own defenses. He assumed ownership of the stories, and allowed people to talk and speculate and wonder after his mystery, unaware that through them, he manipulated the field. He let the world see what he needed it to see. And turned its eyes away from Edelgard's intentions. The monastery was no different, and he had carefully laid the foundation that would keep the clergy and his fellow classmates wound around his finger in the months to come.
A plan for a student like Henry had not been worked into the contingencies he had mapped out. Had he not been a member of the Black Eagles, Hubert could have found his capricious peculiarity an asset - another diversion from the truth. But instead, more eyes had come to scrutinize and distrust their house, and Henry remained too much of a mystery for Hubert to allow him to continue his ways unchecked.
As usual, the path from the knights' hall to the cemetery had no one lingering about at this time of day. No one except the Black Eagles’ new oddity.
"Hello, Henry." The friendliness was forced and sterile as Hubert approached him from behind, but the smirk he wore and the smug glint in his eye came naturally to him. "You seem to be in good health."
The sun had begun to sink behind the rooftops of the tallest buildings around the monastery, painting the brown stone all around them a brilliant shade of orange. The shadows, however, stretched long and heavy from their hiding spots to consume the fading light.
"How have you been adjusting to life in Fódlan?" Even such a benign question gained a suspicious tone when uttered by Hubert, and he met Henry's eyes with unwavering intensity.
