#hubert x sylvain

[asperrusual]

3H x Tumblr

[arcthunderrz]

My favorite fe3h yaois

[justrandomselfships]

SECOND PART OF MY SCUFFLE SILLIES!!!

Commission status is in my pinned post!

taglist utc!

@lovehollyberry

@resident-cake-anon

@maynope00

@princesheepish

@n1rolankisser

@lapinbunwrites

[allcaplock]

Todays FE3H memes

[mt-musings]

Inherit the Night - 16

Cecily awoke slowly, her head pounding. She’d rarely ever got hungover in the past—but then again she was usually drinking swill and was smart enough to at least attempt to hydrate. Last night she hadn’t bothered, her only objective to black out as quickly and as absolutely as possible. 

She hesitated before mustering the courage to open her eyes, to turn over to the other side of the bed—it wasn’t that she was uncomfortable with the idea of sharing one. Goddess knew she’d curled up next to Yuri enough nights while holed up in their shitty little hideouts, especially while in Enbarr. 

It was the idea of sharing a marriage bed and whatever might have happened while she’d knocked herself out with drink. 

It was sharing a bed with Hubert.

Her blood still boiled at the mere thought of his name, at the audacity of his latest play—of course he’d never been one to shy away from outlandish schemes at the Academy, his perhaps a bit more subtle than the other noble brats. She understood, could even appreciate the ploy, the clever move to secure the largest unaffiliated spy ring in the midst of this asinine war—could even appreciate the fine tactical move that it was. Hell, she’d have probably made the move sooner than he had, had she been in his position. 

What she couldn’t abide was his insistence that the pact be sealed with their marriage. That it couldn’t be a simple hostage exchange—her for Yuri. There was no benefit to Hubert—she was a commoner of no name, a criminal, and had hardly a handful of silver to her name. Of course there was the Imperial line, that it was the unification of noble and commoner, that it was a tangible testament to Edelgard’s commitment to dismantle the current system that relied on hereditary titles and crests. 

It would have held more weight if it hadn’t been for her blood. 

Despite what she’d prefer, Hubert wasn’t an idiot. They’d spent nearly a year at the Officer’s Academy together, working and fighting in close quarters. She knew there had been moments she had slipped up, knew there where moments in front of Hubert in particular where he’d witnessed a bought of magic or two he shouldn’t have. 

And surely Lord Arundel had filled him in on what he didn’t know.

The marriage clause, then, had to be in place to take use of her blood, to make up for House Vestra’s lack of a crest. 

Whatever Edelgard’s intent in dismantling the old system, there was not denying that it was massively disadvantageous for a noble house to be in complete lack of a crest.

She remembered Margrave Gautier’s callousness in ensuring his heir possessed one, his frigid pragmatism that had left her scarred, hunted, and motherless in the first place. She understood the tactical necessity now, but it didn’t mean she loathed him any less, that she agreed with any of his choices. 

She didn’t know what she had expected to find on the other side of the bed—perhaps Hubert asleep in a set of unnaturally starched night clothes, perhaps him long awake and leering at her. 

She hadn’t expected the other side of the bed to be empty, with no sign that it had been touched. 

She sat up, noting the thick blanket that had been tucked around her—not wool, for the fiber was too fine, too soft. She didn’t have a word for it. Yuri, though, would know if she asked him. He always knew the finest of everything, even if he lived in the same dank tunnels and rundown safe houses she did. 

Yuri. Her heart sank at the thought of his familiar face, his constant flurry of barbs and quips, of the security of his presence. How long would he be allowed to remain at the palace? What would he be forced to do, knowing she had to remain firmly in the Empire’s clutches? That the lives and livelihoods of the remaining denizens of Abyss lay firmly on their ability to keep Hubert and Edelgard happy?

Fucking hell, she was stupid.

She tossed off the blanket, suddenly disgusted by the luxury of it.  It was simply another lovely furnishing to disguise the fact that she was caged, that they’d made such a stupendous tactical blunder.

She’d told Yuri that she should have made the run into Enbarr, that it made the most sense. At least if she’d been outnumbered and cornered by Empire agents, she had more than a hope of tearing through them, of escaping amidst the blood and shattered bone left in the wake of her gift. Yuri was an exceptional fighter and a halfway decent mage but she—

She was a monster.

“Good morning.”

She whipped around at the sound of the familiar voice. Hubert stood in the half-opened door, still in the hopelessly stuffy attire of the night before. Her own lay in a heap on the floor, shed at the first available moment, more than a few of the buttons popped off in the process of its removal. She was suddenly very aware that she wore only the slip from underneath, that the silk was whisper thin and bore more of her body than she’d ever shown at the Academy, or indeed anywhere. 

She pulled the blanket back up around her, all the way to her chin, and narrowed her eyes.

He just stared at her a moment before shaking his head, heaving out a sigh as he crossed without preamble to the wardrobe. She watched him root around for a bit before pulling out mauve riding dress and a pair of thick, practical leggings. He lay both out on the other side of the bed before returning to fetch a matching hat, jacket, riding boots, and set of fine, kidskin gloves. 

“We are leaving for the manor in an hour. Make yourself presentable,” he said stiffly, eyes flicking over her mussed hair, the blanket she’d lowered enough to show the thin straps of her shift. 

The scars that crisscrossed the skin of her chest.

He turned, then, to grab his own clothes, nearly as stiff and pompous as his formalwear the night before, before crossing back to the door and shutting it with a distinct click. 

She swore and dropped the blanket, falling back on the mattress and near-mountain of goose-feather pillows. She’d spent nearly all her life using an old bundle of clothes, if she was lucky enough to have spares, and here he was with six of the softest, fullest pillows she’d ever seen.  

And yet she’d still trade them and everything else in the opulent room for the perpetually rat-infested safe house outside Rowe in an instant if it meant she and Yuri were free of this Goddess-forsaken contract. 

She cursed again, vilely enough that it would have been a fifty-fifty shot whether Yuri would have told her off or laughed. 

It hurt, desperately, to think about him. To think of being unable to see him any longer, at least without Hubert’s whim.

She lay there a long while, staring up at the dark velvet of the canopy, weighing whether or not it was worth ignoring Hubert. On one hand it would please her greatly to annoy him, even more so to make him irate. On the other—he held tremendous power over her, over Yuri, and most importantly over the Abyssians he’d seen settled, as per their agreement. 

She at least still knew how to wring every advantage out of a bad contract. 

She dressed quickly, trying to ignore the softness of the fabrics, the fine, detailed embroidery of roses along the neck and sleeves. Long ago she would have admired such a garment, as a child would have pulled it from the laundry to run her fingers along its threads until the head laundress chided her to get back to work. 

She slipped on the riding boots, stowing the gloves in the left one to make up for the outfit’s irritating lack of pockets and crossed to the adjacent bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror, at the tangled pallor of her hair, at the silver-white scars that carved across her right cheek. She avoided her own gaze, not wanted to see the shadows under her mismatched eyes, one deep and violet, the other a shock of blue-white.  

The color that had ruined her entire life. 

She raked a brush through her hair, not caring if it ripped strands out at the roots, and braided it back, only pausing when she realized she didn’t have her usual ribbon. 

It had been a lovely, dusty purple color, made from real silk—a present from Yuri when she’d turned thirteen. No matter how it had faded or begun to fray she’d always fixed it, always treasured it.

She didn’t even know where it was now.

The handmaidens hadn’t allowed her to take it with her to the ceremony, hadn’t let her weave it through her hair, through the elaborate braids they’d pinned around her head like a crown. They insisted it was dirty and worn and would look out of place next to the glittering, beaded dress they’d buttoned her into. 

She didn’t bother looking for a substitute, instead just throwing the unsecured end of her braid over her shoulder. It would slowly unravel, a small annoyance to inflict on Hubert and his constant sense of propriety. She picked up the hairpin Yuri had given her and slipped it into her hair, glad, at least, to have some small fragment of home. She crossed to the bedroom door, ignoring the hat he’d left on the bed—it was a small, impractical thing anyway, hardly large enough to cover the crown of her head—a purely vain accessory without any practical purpose. 

Hubert was already ready in the drawing room, reclining on the sofa as he read through a stack of reports, his hair immaculately styled, the buttons of his jacket shining. She didn’t say anything as he looked up, as his eyes traced her form, lingering on her bare head, on the white of her hair that was already unraveling from its braid. 

“Was the hat not to your liking?”

She stared at him a moment, formulating her response. She decided to play it safe and simply shook her head, dropping her eyes to the carpet. 

“A shame, I shall take note.”

She couldn’t help the furrowing of her brows at his comment, the momentary flick up of her eyes to catalogue his expression—he didn’t appear angry or even perturbed, but lost in thought. She dropped her gaze once more as he stood and dug into one of his pockets, pockets she eyed with envy, and pulled out a small, folded bundle of faded purple silk.

“I thought it perhaps sentimental to you. I seem to remember it being the same one you wore at the Academy.”

She stared at him then, really stared, as he held the ribbon out for her to take. She’d always known Hubert to be observant, to be calculating and patient. She hadn’t thought he’d catalogued such trivial details, never mind remembered them nearly four years later. 

“Was I mistaken?”

“No,” she said quickly, taking the ribbon from him before he could rescind his generosity, “Thank you.”

Something flickered across his face at those words, but it was gone before she could put a name to it, his face schooled back into his usual neutrality. She pretended she hadn’t noticed, instead focusing on tying back her hair as he packed up his reports.

“Were the gloves also not to your liking?”

“The—oh!” She stooped and pulled the pair from where she’d tucked them in the calf of her boot. “I—I didn’t have a pocket to put them in. They’re for riding, right?”

She’d seen the noble students wear similar ones out in the pastures with their mounts. She’d never bothered with anything of the like, wouldn’t have even if they weren’t more expensive than ninety percent of what she owned combined. Her hands were already calloused and scarred, there would be no point in protecting such course implements. 

Hubert just nodded and strode towards the door without another word. 

She followed a few paces behind, taking note of the route and the other doors, of what the servants wore and how they acted, whether they came to a halt and bowed their heads or scurried away as fast and silently as they were able. She noted the bolts used to secure the windows, the width of the sills, whether they looked out over gardens or faced rows of other identical windows full of watchful eyes. 

It was like second nature and she tucked it all in the back of her mind for the right occasion. Nine left turns, four rights, and three flights of stairs to the stables. Fourteen posted guards, five on rotation spotted in an eight minute window. It’d be nearly impossible to slip away unseen.

Nearly.

She tucked it all in the back of her head as a stablehand brought out a single, enormous black horse, already saddled and ready for a journey. She took a step back instinctually as the horse turned its snout in her direction and huffed. Horses never liked her—most animals didn’t. They could always tell she wasn’t quite as human as she should be, could smell the vestiges of darkness on her. 

It didn’t help that she didn’t much care for them either, not after she’d been thrown off at the Academy in the midst of a disastrous lesson. It was faster, anyway for her to Walk, to slip between the shadows and forgo the practice entirely. 

Hubert didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps he didn’t care. He lifted her up and into the saddle by the waist without so much as a word, even after she stiffened under his touch. She doubted he would heed her complaints, even if she bothered to voice them. There would be no way she’d be able to get him to agree to walk to wherever it was he was dragging her.

Instead she tried to focus on calming her breathing, eyeing the horse with distrust. The last thing she wanted was to end up below a pair of hooves again. Her ribs practically ached at the mere thought.

“There you are! I did tell you they’d try and sneak off without saying goodbye!”

She craned her neck to see a familiar mane of ginger hair, followed by half of the Black Eagles.  Ferdinand beamed at the pair of them, along with Dorothea and Caspar, Petra and Linhart bringing up the rear. She couldn’t help but crane to see behind them, hoping to see a flash of lilac hair, but Yuri was nowhere amongst the group, nor was Lorenz or Ignatz.

She ducked her face to hide her disappointment.

She could almost feel Hubert’s mood sour next to her, something that was sure to make the however-long ride to ‘the manor’ all the more uncomfortable. She did her best to give the lot of them a warm, convincing smile. She didn’t know how many of them knew about the contract, about Yuri and the Abyssians. It was better, then, to play it safe until she had more intel. 

“What on earth are you doing here?” Hubert asked, glowering at Ferdinand in particular. 

“What does it look like? We’re here to give you a proper send off!”

“That’s hardly necessary.”

“Ferdinand is saying it is a Fodlan custom to throw grain at the newly married couple,” Petra said, raising a small satchel with a smile. 

“Not grain, it has to be rice,” Caspar said, peering into her bag and making a face. 

“Why is it needing to be rice?”

“I dunno, it’s just what you throw.”

“It’s supposed to bring prosperity and many children,” Linhart said, sounding like they had just dragged him out of bed. Knowing Linhart it couldn’t be too far from the truth. 

Dorothea darted forward, beaming. “You look absolutely amazing! Oh, look at the little roses! Ferdie, isn’t it just darling? You have to tell me where you found it!”

“Oh, um, I’m not sure. It was a gift.”

“Hubie! Who would have thought you had such impeccable taste!”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence. Now, we really must be off,” Hubert said bruskly, mounting the horse behind her without further preamble.

“Don’t be like that, Hubert! We simply wanted to wish you both well!” Ferdinand said, agilely stepping directly in the path of the steed. 

“Well, now you’ve wished it. May we be off?”

“Are you so impatient for your honeymoon, Hubert?” Dorothea lilted, eyes alight with mischief. The others laughed and whooped, their good cheer standing in stark contrast the the gloom emanating off of Hubert. Cecily would have usually joined in her good natured teasing, had the implication not so intimately involved her. Instead she ducked her head to ensure no one could catch sight of any flash of mortification that slipped past her carefully curated mask. 

“Oh, honestly! Goodbye! I shan’t miss any of you,” he retorted, reaching around her to grab the reigns and urge the horse around Ferdinand and out of the stables, towards the streets of Enbarr. She could hear her former classmates calling after them, their laughter ringing out over the quiet of the morning. She tried to focus on them, for as long as she was able, instead of the feeling of Hubert’s chest pressed into her back, his arms wrapped around her in order to grip the reigns. 

They’d nearly made it out of the city gates before Hubert spoke again, his voice still clipped with irritation.

“I intended to avoid that sort of nonsense. I had assumed they would have taken longer to nurse their hangovers.”

“They meant well,” Cecily replied, trying not to dwell on their words, on prosperity and children and expectation. She could feel a roiling ball of emotion rising in her at the thought, feel the telltale prick of tears welling in her eyes. She blinked them away furiously.

Hubert didn’t answer, just urged the horse through the reenforced gates and down the winding, Imperial road. 

~~~

The hour and a half it took them to reach the manor was a unique and horrid torture. It took everything in him to focus on the road instead of the scent of her hair, the feeling of her pressed against his chest. It was a sweet relief to finally see the familiar gate of his ancestral home, a feeling that was historically foreign in the context of the place.

He led the horse up the eastern path towards the stables, trying not to note how Cecily kept her head stiffly forward—a trick, he knew, to keep him from knowing what caught her interest on the estate. 

Once Yuri’s little bird, always Yuri’s little bird.

They reached the stables and he swung himself off the mare without preamble. He turned to help Cecily down but she ignored his outstretched hand and slid off the side of the saddle, landing in a slight crouch before straightening up and surveying him with those unblinking, doe-like eyes, her face unreadable. 

It was a skill he greatly appreciated, valued, but he hated to see it leveled towards himself. 

She stepped away from the horse as fast as possible, putting him between her and the creature and he suddenly remembered how frightened she’d been of them at the Academy. He’d forgotten how she’d gotten thrown off the beast when Ferdinand had insisted he could teach her, how she’d been kicked, her arm broken by the blow. 

He should have remembered, he’d chewed Ferdinand out after he’d seen her curled on the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks. He’d been too concerned with escaping the prying eyes of their friends to bother readying a carriage, especially when it would extend the journey by an hour. 

What a fine start to their marriage, his forcing her onto a beast she feared for well over an hour without even asking her. 

She must think he’d done it on purpose. It wasn’t like him to forget such things. 

“Would you prefer I give you the tour now or would you like to freshen up from the journey?”

She furrowed her brows at that and glanced down at her dress as if expecting it to be filthy with mud. There was merely a bit of dust from the road along the hem, dust that she brushed off, but not before carefully removing the white leather gloves she’d finally put on when on the horse. 

She’d taken the idea of riding gloves quite literally. 

He just nodded, not bothering to clarify what he had meant by freshen up—he supposed there was little time for decorum aiding in the running of a criminal spy ring. 

He showed her the gardens first on their way to the house, much less lavish and curated than those of the Imperial palace—the Vestra gardens served a much more practical purpose, growing all sorts of poisonous plants. He wondered if she recognized any of them among the colorful blooms—she'd shown an interest in poisonous plants during their Academy days, though that had been a long time ago. 

Still, perhaps some things didn't change. 

She surveyed the beds with interest, trailing a finger over a few of the blooms’ petals as they walked.. 

He hesitated a moment before leading her up the path towards the main entrance. Like the gardens, the manor house was bleak and practical, nothing like the airy halls of the palace or even the sunny rooms of Garreg Mach. It held few happy memories for him, fewer from the time before his father had been executed for his treachery. He nearly felt guilty for bringing her to such a dour place, for intending to leave her here for the remainder of the war. But it would ensure her safety, ensure that she would stay as far as he could manage from the front lines, from Lord Arundel. 

He pushed into the entrance hall, trying to decide where he should start, how he should keep certain parts of the house off-limits, for her own good at least. She didn’t have to know about the basement laboratories or the interrogation cells or—

“Hello. My name is Cecily, it’s very nice to meet you.”

He turned to see her extending a hand to the elderly butler who looked rather taken aback but shook it nonetheless. 

“My name is Thomas, your Grace. It shall be an honor to serve you.”

Her face fell at that, though she quickly replaced it with a smile. “There’s no need to be so formal with me, Cecily is just fine.”

Thomas, for his part, looked uncomfortable at the thought, though he gave the pair of them a short bow before excusing himself to ensure tea would be prepared. He continued the tour through the house, pointing out the drawing room, the library, the spare bedrooms and studies. Their progress through the house was halting, as she couldn’t move past a servant without greeting them and learning their name and their job, without insisting they simply address her as Cecily. 

It took him a moment to realize why it struck him as odd—in each one of these interactions she treated whoever it happened to be as an equal, couldn’t move past them without acknowledging their presence. His father had rarely addressed any of the servants but Thomas, and only to bark out an order or mete out some punishment. He’d taught Hubert to do the same, to treat them as if they didn’t quite exist, or at least filled the same utilitarian role as furniture. 

He realized, about halfway through their stilted tour, that he knew less than half of the names of the faces he recognized, most of which had been serving his family since at least his childhood. 

He’d forgotten that the reason she had known Sylvain at the Academy, that she’d known Dimitri had been because she’d grown up a servant in the Margrave’s house. Before Yuri, before Those That Slither In The Dark had gotten hold of her she had been just a servant girl who’d made friends with the Lord’s son. 

He wondered if the Margrave’s household had been run in the same manner as his father’s, if the servants were meant to be seen and not heard, if seen at all, if mistakes were met with swift beatings. Somehow he doubted Sylvain would have been allowed to befriend her in the first place if that was the case, though perhaps she had been an exception. Perhaps the Margrave had an inkling of something unusual about the little girl, of some strange power that would cause her to be sought out by the Those That Slither in the Dark. 

Or maybe she’d just been a normal little girl before they’d gotten ahold of her. 

That was his other reason for leaving her at the manor. 

Her stark white hair upon meeting her had first aroused his suspicions—Edelgard had told him that all of the hair of the children they experimented on had turned the same shade. She wasn’t sure if it was the stress of it all or something specific they did, but one by one she’d watched the soft brown hair of her siblings turn to a shock of white. Lysithea, too, shared this experience. 

They didn’t, however, share the same amount of scarring. 

Neither Edelgard or Lysithea had been left with any significant scarring, never mind any so plainly visible. He knew some of it could be chalked up to the hard life of being one of Yuri’s little birds, but that too wouldn’t fully explain it. Not when it was so very clear how protective he was over her. 

There, of course, was one significant difference that separated Edelgard and Lysithea from Cecily—they were both the heirs of powerful noble families who had their own roles yet to play. Cecily had only ever been a servant for a margrave. She was far more expendable.

He glanced at her face, shame burning in his belly at the thought. She met his gaze with furrowed brows, her mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“What?”

“I—Thomas should have tea prepared by now. This way.”

He turned on his heel, taking pains to school his face into its usual expression. He lead her to the parlor where tea had indeed been laid out, along with a pot of black Dagdan coffee. 

He pulled her seat out for her without a word. She hesitated a moment before sitting, dropping her gaze to her lap. He reached for the pot of tea on instinct, so used to pouring for Edelgard, her preferred cup mere muscle memory at this point for him to prepare, but stopped. He had no idea what sort of tea Cecily drank, or if she liked it sweetened or with cream. It struck him that he should know his wife’s preference on something so trivial—

His wife.

He glanced up at her to find her examining one of the small tea spoons, brows furrowed as she traced the tiny stamp denoting its authenticity.

“It’s silver. You’re welcome to keep it if you’d so like.”

She glanced back at him before lifting the lid of the teapot and holding the spoon in the liquid for a few seconds before removing it and examining it once more. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. 

“If I intended to poison you, it would not be with arsenic, I assure you.”

She surveyed him a moment before setting the spoon back on the table without a word. He sighed, shaking his head before he poured himself a mouthful and drained his cup without waiting for it to cool. 

“Would you like a cup now, or would you like to wait fifteen minutes to see if I drop dead?”

He noted the slight up-quirk of her lips, though he wasn’t sure if it was brought on by the idea of him poisoning himself to prove a point or if it was because of how quickly he’d spelled out the game. 

“With sugar, if you have it.”

He bit back his knee-jerk response that of course he did, reminding himself for her it was probably a luxury. He made the cup in silence, with two heaping spoonfuls of sugar, just as the Professor had always preferred. Maybe his wife shared the Professor’s sweet tooth. 

He passed her the cup without looking up, making his own coffee in near-reflex—it was after two, which meant he could indulge in a splash of cream in his cup. In the morning and late at night he took it black, without much thought for its taste, only its function. 

He looked up in time to see Cecily take a wary sip of her tea, brows furrowing just slightly at the taste. Perhaps he hadn’t made it sweet enough, then, though he knew he’d find it almost sickeningly so. 

He took a sip of his own cup, trying to find something neutral enough to make into tea time conversation. He supposed they could just sit in silence, and he could learn to ignore the heaviness it came with, the charge that nearly mimicked the build up in energy of a spell. 

It was Cecily who broke the silence first, though her eyes remained glued to the table.

“Are there books I can read here?”

“You may read anything you like.”

“Truly?”

“I ask only that you are careful with the rarer volumes. If there is something you are looking for and unable to locate, Thomas can have it ordered in for you.”

“Are there local book stores?”

“One, outside of Enbarr. But Thomas will simply have it delivered here for you.”

She looked up at that, eyes searching for something in his face. “So, I’m not allowed to leave.”

She figured it out much faster than he’d intended. He’d hoped for a few days—perhaps a week—before the question was raised, enough time, at least, for him to come up with some sort of satisfactory answer. 

But she didn’t wait for one. She just got up and crossed to the door without another word. She returned a few minutes later with a thick volume on poisonous plants which she sat next to her cup and flipped open, propping her elbow on the table as she leafed through to the introduction. She ignored him completely as she began to read, one finger tracing idly under the lines of text, a habit that he’d forgotten about from their school days. 

He noted how she only drank half her cup before refilling it, how she did the same again with her next cup. Too sweet then, significantly so. He’d remember for next time. After a while he got up and grabbed a sheath of reports to go through himself. Usually he would have enjoyed being able to read together—he had always enjoyed their shared studying time at the Academy, even though some days they’d barely spoke a dozen words to one another. 

That had been a pleasant sort of silence, comfortable. 

This was leaden. 

“Is horticulture a hobby of yours?” he asked, trying to force some conversation. She looked up, brows furrowed. He gestured at the book. She just shrugged, returning to her reading. 

He sighed, turning back to his own work. Perhaps silence was the best he could hope for. 

"I've had the master bedroom prepared for you and your bride, your Grace," Thomas said, bowing as he stepped into the sitting room. Cecily had hardly moved the entire day, except when she'd asked for a quill and paper. Then she'd simply turned back to her book, occasionally scrawling notes. He'd tried to subtly read them over his own reports, but they were written in some strange code. He'd need time to do so, time or he'd have to pawn it off to one of his codebreakers. 

Cecily looked up, though, at Thomas's statement, her mismatched eyes wide before she schooled her expression. 

She was frightened. Frightened of him, of sharing a room, a bed. The woman he loved was frightened of him. 

He couldn't blame her, of course. How could he, when his hands were stained black with the remnants of all the ill he'd done in the name of Edelgard's dream, all the blood he'd spilt?

Or, at least they had been. One remained discolored, spiderwebbed with the remnants of his dark magic, while the other was now entirely unblemished but for a few silvered scars. A fool might think it a portent, a chance to start anew.

He saw only reason for Arundel's interest, reason for others to harm her, to steal her away. She was only safe where he could protect her. He'd already seen to it personally that the bedroom was warded, ridiculously so, so that only he and she could hope to pass over the threshold if they were active. 

There wasn't anything for it--they'd have to share a bed, at least every so often. They were husband and wife now, it wouldn't for the servants to go spreading how they hadn't shared a room, even in their first night together at the manor. 

He sighed, folding up the remainder of his reports. She carefully marked her page, avoiding looking at him. 

"I--I suppose it is time to retire," he said softly. Cecily didn't respond, though she followed him from the drawing room, up the stairs to the bedroom. He pushed inside, waving a hand over the door to redo the arcane lock--he should teach her how to make one herself, along with the wards. It shouldn't be so difficult for her now, considering the level of her skill.

It was odd that it had been faith magic that she'd finally seemed to grasp, though perhaps it was not faith in the goddess that she relied on, but something else. She'd never had much patience for the goddess in school, but then again, maybe things had changed. 

She paused as they entered the room, eyes flicking over the vases of flowers that had been placed on every surface, flowers that didn’t didn’t quite disguise the dark, dreariness of the space. Still, it had to be better than the broom closet she called a room in Abyss, had to be better than whatever safe house she’d been hiding out in out in Rowe. 

He crossed to the wardrobe he’d had Thomas prepare, making a face at the slim offerings—he’d need to send the tailor to make her some new clothes, proper clothes that fit and were worthy of her. Still, he picked out a soft night dress and a long silk robe, grabbing a pair of slippers that should have matched, but didn’t. 

“I—I’ll run you a bath. I have a few things I need to discuss with Thomas,” he said. She didn’t react, instead just standing and staring as if not quite seeing the room around her. He set the clothes neatly on the stool in the bathroom and filled the large, clawfoot tub. He left out an array of scented soaps and oils, whatever she might like—he’d guessed she might prefer something floral or botanical, considering how she’d enjoyed the gardens and the greenhouse at the academy, but in reality, he had no idea.

He knew so little about his wife, and yet—

And yet there was little that he wouldn’t do for her comfort or safety. How could he know so little about the woman he loved?

He crossed back to the bedroom, only to find her standing in the same place, eyes still face away. He crossed to her side, concern creasing his forehead. 

“Cecily?”

She startled, eyes flicking to him, and then nodded. “Yes, sorry. Thank you for running the bath.”

She crossed to the bathroom without another word, the lock clicking into place. Hubert lingered a moment more before setting out to find Thomas. He found him in small office off the kitchen going through the bookkeeping. He stood as he spotted Hubert, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Congratulations, your Grace. The Marquess appears a fine young woman,” Thomas said with a rare smile. “The staff are quite excited to have you both home.”

“It is only for a day or so.”

“I suppose it makes sense you both should stay in Enbarr, close to the Emperor. Still, we shall ensure the manor is ready for you, whenever you and the Marquess wish it.”

“Only I will be returning to Enbarr. The Marquess will remain at the manor. She—she is to stay at the manor, and all guests are to go through my approval.”

“Your Grace—“

“House Vestra has never been well liked, Thomas, and she was not born of noble blood. Many are unhappy about our union and we are still at war. Our enemies will no doubt be even less enthused and she had ties to the Kingdom. Her safety must be paramount.”

“Understood, your Grace,” he said with a nod, though his eyes searched Hubert’s face in a way that made him feel like he was ten years old again. 

“There is also the matter of her allowance—she should have three thousand gold pieces a month for whatever she’d like to do with the house, as well as whatever she needs for a new wardrobe and and books. She’s always been an avid reader.”

“I will make note of it.”

“Any letters she wishes to send should be forwarded to me and I will see them posted.

“Of course, your Grace.”

Hubert nodded to himself before turning and climbing back upstairs to his bedroom. Cecily was sat at the small vanity, ripping a brush through her hair with little regard for either her hair or scalp, buried in a thick tome she’d propped up against the mirror. 

Hubert crossed to her side without thought, pulling the brush from her hand. She jumped, eyes going wide as whipped around to look at him.

“You won’t have any hair left if you keep that up,” he said, digging through one of the vanity drawers to find a small bottle of hair oil. He hesitated a moment before removing his gloves and placing a few drops on his palm, which he then began to work through the ends of her hair.

“What are you doing?” She asked sharply, every muscle tensed as if she were about to run or fight. Hubert just shook his head. 

“The oil helps with the tangles,” he said, ignoring she sharpness of her gaze as he began brushing out her hair properly, working out the knots from the ends before working his way up. Cecily sat stiffly, eyes locked on the surface of the vanity.

He knew he should have called one of the maids in to aid her, as they would be doing moving forward, as was expected of a Marquess, but—this was something small he could do, to take care of her. Some small way to show her she needn’t ever fear his touch. A small way he could reassure himself that she was safe, that she was taken care of. 

That he was taking care of her. 

They didn’t speak as he finished brushing her hair, nor as he braided it, securing it with the familiar faded purple ribbon she’d always worn at school. It was real silk, if a low grade and he’d guess one of the finer things she’d owned in Abyss. She’d always worn it, and he’d seen her more than once repairing it as it began to fray. 

“Hopefully you find that satisfactory,” he said, stepping away to retrieve his own nightclothes. Cecily didn’t say anything, nor did she move, even when he crossed to the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. 

He wished she’d rage at him, fight with him, do something other than sit silently and frightened as a songbird above a cat. If he’d been able to convince her of their plan before, would she have broken like this? Would she have still been the lively, brilliant creature he remembered?

Could he ever hope to put her back together?

Still, he had to remind himself that it was for her benefit, that it was the only way he could ensure Arundel could dare hope to touch her. 

That her hatred was a fair price for her safety. 

He didn’t speak as he returned to the bedroom—their bedroom, now—instead merely grabbing his stack of reports as he crossed to the bed. He wasn’t tired, but he couldn’t lock himself away in his study, as he usually would. He tried to concentrate on his reports, but his eyes kept flicking to where Cecily still sat, as if frozen. 

It was well after midnight before she moved, stiffly rising from the stool and slipping off her robe. She took time to fold it before padding silently to the bed. He watched her hesitate for a moment, though he kept his eyes on his report, before she slipped under the covers.

Her hands were trembling. 

He placed his reports on the nightstand and put out the lights except for the candle on her bedside table with a flick of his hand. He turned to face away from her, pulling the blankets up around him. He knew he’d likely not sleep a moment, but he could at least pretend, if it would put her at ease. 

Next

[onlylowercase]

some trad art sketches. drawing on paper is so hard

[dvrtrblhr]

Everytime I post one of these someone mentions that X ship isn't a rarepair. Please take my categorization with a grain of salt. I usually don't know what I'm doing 😅

It should go without saying but please don’t be rude just because you don’t like a ship. If you want to debate or discuss a ship, do it in the tags/comments in a polite manner. This is supposed to be fun. Let’s all be mature adults!

If your favorite ship is not here, it’s probably featured in another poll. You can see all the polls by going to my blog and choosing the tag “valentines polls”. You can also just tell me in the tags or comments.

[calamari-inari]

Playing this game (without the likes) 🫶

1. enemies to lovers, best friends to lovers, lord and their knight ❤️

2. Not sure if these are tropes, but yandere lover (just not a very big fan of yandere), obsessive love (treating their partner as a possession), misogynistic attitudes or abusive power in a relationship (basically a partner defining what their partner, whether it be a woman or man, should do or behave, and the victimized partner finds it hot???)

3. Gradual mutual understanding for one another! I also learn more about the characters' personalities this way!

4. One or both partners experience withdrawal when they're being separated from each other lol. True feelings often emerge from such situations and it's adorable...

5. Multiship! So far, the only ships I really think about now are from FE3H and a few from Engage and TGAA. Here's a list of several multiships I enjoy!

FE3H (Apparently Dimitri is very shippable to me LOL)

Hubert x Ferdinand

Hubert x Edelgard

Sylvain x Felix

Sylvain x Ferdinand

Dimitri x Ferdinand

Dimitri x Felix

Dimitri x Dedue

Dimitri x Claude

Byleth x any lord

Engage

Alear x Alfred

Alear x Diamant

Diamant x Ivy

TGAA

Kazuma x Ryuunosuke

Barok x Kazuma

Barok x Herlock

6. I like both rarepairs and mainstream! Most of the rarepairs I like don't have any canon interaction, so I like to explore the "what could've been" situations.

7. Monogamy. Not much to explain here. It's just my preference lol

8. Using my favorite pair ferdibert, they are reversible, but I have a really strong preference for dom Hubert and sub Ferdinand. However!! I'm not a big fan of where Ferdinand is written or drawn very femininely. This applies to any MxM pair. I'm not against the concept of femininity in males, but when used in a stereotypical fashion, it rubs me the wrong way. Just a subtle depiction of their relationship dynamic is perfect to me! I'm alright with seeing SFW artwork of the reverse and reading said fics, but NSFW is where I draw the line

9. Thinking about the games I've played, I can think of at least one pair I like to see romantically, so yes 😂

10. Not at all important! After all, my favorite is romantic fluff 🥺 Depending on the intensity of my liking for a ship, the NSFW aspect becomes more bareable since I'm still personally embarrassed consuming such content lol. I am vanilla. Ferdibert is highkey the only one I consume NSFW for

11. A lot of my MxF and FxF pairs are platonic to me! This is likely due to my aegosexuality, which is the closest explanation I can identify with. Not everything needs to be romantic. I find close friendships very heartwarming too 🥺

12. My top favorites right now are ferdibert 🖤🧡, sylvix ❤️💙, and diminand 💙🧡!

13. My favorite pairs from fandoms that I'm not really engaging in now are:

Madeleine Cookie x Espresso Cookie (Cookie Run Kingdom)

Victor x Yuuri (Yuri on Ice)

Link x Zelda (Skyward Sword version)

Reyn x Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles 1)

Chrom x M!Robin (Fire Emblem Awakening)

14. Domestic fluff is really cute, but the official legal bonding of two partners isn't on my "must have" list for any romantic pairing. I really love seeing creations of my favorite pairs marrying though! Gives me the tingles every time and I just feel so happy 😍

15. As someone that made OC fan kids in the past, yes that is totally fine and I love seeing other people's interpretations for the same pair (if they don't have canon children). I've even made some for ferdibert before but I never fully flushed them out lol

[asperrusual]

3H x Tumblr

[omgkalyppso]

things I would like to know about fellow writers

I was tagged by @dustdeepsea, thank you!! (:

Putting a cut in this because I'm very specific in some sexual language (not about my sexual history).

For this reason I'm too shy to tag anyone else, but if you see this and want to answer the questions, please consider yourself tagged by me.

Last book I read: The last book I finished must've been American Gods.

Greatest literary inspiration: I don't know. I like reading for reading and for learning, but no one that I really want to write like, and I feel bad for naming big names, still. JRR Tolkien, Douglas Adams, Diane Duane, Isaac Asimov (the short story Liar! has really stuck with me). And even then, that might influence how I used to write original fiction, but not at all how I write fanfiction, which I do almost exclusively now. I write far more original poetry than original fiction, and then ... I'm inspired by my mother, people in my community, all the music I listen to.

My fanfiction is a little inspired by my friends. I was going to link their a/o3 accounts but realized they may not want that. fghdfghdfg

Things in my current fandom I want to read but I don't want to write: Let's think of 3 for bg3 and 3 for fire emblem.

Vlaakith's defeat. - Idk enough about githyanki politics / how many "elite" forces (if any) are at her disposal.

Minsc's homecoming. - I feel like I'd have to play the first two games to be up to this.

He Who Was in control of his faculties but subbing very sweetly for Tav/Durge of any gender with bondage, hair pulling, overstimulation, spanking and the presence of a knife (I'd say knifeplay, but I don't mean bloodplay / cutting for him). - Reminder that this isn't a w/endy's, it's my blog.

Slowburn, longfic of Marianne moving to Faerghus with her eventual marriage to Dimitri. - Time.

Shura holding Kana for the first time. - I could write this. I won't.

Kink scene, free-use Hilda where her inner monologue is as complex as she is while still being wildly indulgent. - I started this wip; Hubert was also up for grabs in it. But it isn't happening.

Wait, also, Sylvain x Mercedes x Dedue starting a relationship with miscommunication and pining. - Planning this feels hard. fghdfg

Things in my current fandoms I want to write but I think nobody would be interested in them but me: 

With the note that I know I have at least 5 enablers who will (probably?? fdghfgdhfdg) always express interest in my completion of a project even if the won't read it, and so "nobody" being interested applies to strangers:

Komira and Locke, either domesticity or sexual intimacy.

A fic where Wyll and Ulder talk and it results in reconciliation, and then a bigger rift, and then understanding (people really don't like Ulder).

My Blaiddyd Bastard oc Almanzor learning to let go of the hang-ups on sex his parents gave him and fucking my oc Peregrine.

My oc Fae as a Student AU longfic.

You can recognise my writing by: The temptation to insult my own writing is so, so strong, but I don't mean to insult anyone who reads my stuff and enjoys it so I have to be nice. Hm. I don't know. "The way I write dialogue / inner reflection" is vague, but it's all I've got.

My most controversial take (current fandom): You guys (gender neutral and vague) can't call that shit self-insert if it's a non-human Tav (or Durge). It's first or second person writing (often, and not even always lately???), and x Reader fic, but self-insert To Me means that either any reader or at least the author has to be able to picture themself Being Inserted into the story. I haven't seen 1 isekai situation using this tag, which isn't a requirement, but you're giving the self-insert tiefling-tails and backstories, which is fun, but that's not a self-insert to me.

Top three favourite tropes: Slowburn (or emotional slowburn, sexually complicated), Hurt/Comfort (emotional or physical, whatever), Battle Relationship.

What’s your current writing mood (10 – super motivated and churning out words like crazy, 0 – in a complete rut): How current is current? Because potentially 0/10. I'll say 4/10 though.

Share a random frustration: I hate psyching myself out of a project because I worry something won't make sense (and I should post it anyway) or that it won't be up to my personal standards for myself.

[glowingbadger]

Fire Emblem Three Houses Poly & Multi-Character Masterlist

Poly:

Reader wants both - Yuri, Dimitri

sylvain, felix, dimitri x reader 

Claude, Yuri, Sylvain x reader

Claude, Dimitri x Reader 

College AU Claude, Dimitri x Reader

Felix, Sylvain x Reader

Sylvain, Felix Threesome 

Threesome - Lorenz, Ignatz

Multi:

Misc spicy hcs - Linhardt, Felix, Lorenz, Seteth, Jeritza

Misc spicy hcs - Sylvain, Hubert, Yuri

Nsfw alphabet prompts - E I K M W - Hubert, Sylvain

Nsfw alphabet prompts - F J Q V - Dimitri, Sylvain

Competing over reader - Yuri, Dimitri

Misc spicy hcs - Ashe, Felix, Yuri

W/ asexual reader - Dimitri, Ashe, Sylvain, Felix, Yuri, Claude

Reader’s first time - Sylvain, Ashe, Dimitri

Reader’s first time - Felix, Claude, Yuri

Sfw and Nsfw headcanons - Ashe, Ferdinand

Sfw and Nsfw headcanons - Hilda, Marianne, Dorothea

Nsfw alphabet prompts - A I D P W - Ashe, Ferdinand

Sub! spicy headcanons - Ashe, Ignatz

Sfw & nsfw headcanons - Raphael, Hubert

Sfw & nsfw headcanons - Caspar, Linhardt 

Dealing with a Brat!Reader - Dimitri, Seteth

Reader hiccups during sex - Dimitri, Syllvain, Felix

Learning Reader’s body - Linhardt, Felix

Where they like to be kissed - Hubert, Seteth, Sylvain, Yuri

Straightforward Reader - Felix, Sylvain

Favorite part of AFAB S/O’s body - most guys

Breeding kink hc's - most guys

What they love to see you wearing - most guys

Scared & horny - most guys

Multi, Modern AU:

Modern college AU - blue lions boys - SFW

Modern college AU - ashen wolves (all 4) - SFW

Modern AU w/ insecure Reader - Claude, Dimitri, Ashe, Felix, Sylvain - SFW

escape room w/Reader - Blue lion boys - SFW

Modern AU, sfw & nsfw - Yuri, Felix

Modern AU, sfw & nsfw - Sylvain, Hilda, Ashe

Modern AU, sfw & nsfw - Marianne, Dimitri, Claude

Modern AU ‘soft’ HCs - Yuri, Dimitri, Sylvain, Felix, Ashe - SFW

Modern AU w/ insecure Reader - Marianne, Ferdinand, Lorenz, Hilda - SFW

Taking care of sick Reader - Dimitri, Felix, Sylvain, Dedue, Ashe - SFW

Multi, SFW:

Fluff hcs - Sylvain, Dimitri

First “I love you” - Dimitri, Claude, Ashe, Sylvain, Yuri, Felix

With short!Reader hcs - Dimitri, Sylvain, Ashe, Claude, Felix

Reader forced to fight him - Seteth, Hubert, Felix

Vices - most FE3H dudes, tw for alcohol and smoking

[allcaplock]

Collection of memes I made on my phone

[dragonsarecats]

[ Previous anon ]

 I'M SORRY FOR WORDING IT LIKE THAT I played the Golden Deers, some of my favorite queer ship are with Deers and some of my favorite character are among the deers! My favorite deer ship is probably Leonie x Lysithea ( She litteraly say Leonie would make an incredible partner! Why do their support stop at B again?? ) and my otp is Hilda x Edelgard ( do not judge me I have REASONS ). And also, one of my favorite queer headcanon is trans aro-ace Claude! So I genuinely love the Deers as queers!

However, for me the deer and the diverse queer content around them is heavily a fandom thing. When I say the deer are "too straight for me", I meant it for the game directly. Like you have the Black Eagles where not only litteraly every characters is canon queer/has heavily subtext but has also its whole narrative drenched in queer metaphor! You have the Blue Lions where, while there's less "canon queer", you litteraly cannot say most of its members are straight with how heavy the subtext that's barely even subtext anymore is: there's 0 straight explanation for Felix crying more at Dimitri death than his wife, or him dying the same day as Sylvain because they can't live without each other.

But for the Deers... You have Hilda/Marianne and Claude/Lorenz as the most popular one but while their relationship are so fascinating, when you only look only at the game, they feel too platonic? Especially compared to a Dedue/Dimitri ( like a family in private. took up a post at his grave for the most of his days. BURIED BESIDE EACHOTHER ) or a Ferdinand/Hubert ( rare A+ support, with blushing, their own little surname, Ferdinand/Edelgard support changing just to mention Ferdinand drinking coffee ). Otherwise you have Leonie/Lysithea which stop at B. You have Raphael/Ignatz where they decided to just push the relationship to make their ending all about Ignatz with his sister.

Like really, the Deers manage to have less in game queer moment than the Church of Seiros, Rhea aside, of all things! We were so robbed! The rainbow house deserve better. I'm a lesbian and after all my playthrough Verdant Winds was my only route where I had to marry a man, all I wanted was a lavender wedding with Claude while I have a passionate romance with Leonie :(

To sum up: Lysithea and Leonie should kiss, Intelligent Systems are fucking cowards 

For the fandom I'll have to disagree, I think the Deers have a lot a queer content and it's amazing :] My only thing might be how Claude has become the first character you think of when talking about bi fe3h character which is kinda telling how wlw are dismissed in the general fandom, but its better than some people insisting he's totally straigh so eh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

( Also I big agree on Hilda support being gem, she's such a great character and one that's much more complex than given credit for!! )

Oh and I think I disagree with Deers being the more family found-esq ( saying that bc it's a great subject of I discussion and I want to hear more about your opinion on the matter )

The Lions is the family where they all stick together through thick and thin, following Dimitri to hell and back, but their relationship are complexe and not always healthy ( mostly at the beginning with like Dimitri & Felix or Ingrid & Sylvain ).

The Eagles are the found family where a lot of them bitch about each other at first but they end up with deep relationship where they take care for each other and stand together against the world, even sticking together during the time skip ( also because they kinda all killed each other dad ).

The Deers are for me more like an actual close group of friend: their life are not going to revolve around each other like it does with the other houses, but they won't hesitate to come for that 5 years reunion to see the other. It's kinda like you say they're so normal in a good way! They tease each other but they don't hate each other in the way of a Dimitri/Felix, a Caspar/Petra, a Ferdinand/Hubert ( except for Lorenz but like, it's Lorenz ). They won't kill the other dad, but they'll sure as hell support each other like Lorenz and Ignatz or Marianne and Raphael. They might not start a revolution together but they will listen to the other even when it’s total heresy ( Leonie & Claude, such an incredible support :’) ) and help the other to reach their goal… I do agree with you it’s linked to not knowing each other before, but on that, isn’t knowing each other before more of a Lion thing than not knowing being a Deer thing? I don’t know, the BE are kind of a middle ground.

( Sorry for my ramblings- It's so fun talking about the deers )

AA anon thank you for the long ask!! Okay I'm gonna take this point by point under the readmore!

"My favorite deer ship s probably Leonie x Lysithea ( She litteraly say Leonie would make an incredible partner! Why do their support stop at B again?? )"

INCREDIBLY fair and based of you, lol, I read Lysithea as gay and it's 100% because of the support conversations she has with Leonie and Hilda (which to me implies an ADORABLE crush--Lysithea seems to genuinely respect and admire Hilda which is not something you'd expect from like, a surface level reading of their characters).

I'm gonna admit my own bias here in terms of canon text endings--my favorite Lysithea ending is her paired ending with Lorenz. It really reads like a queer platonic relationship to me--I don't really get romantic vibes from either of them (gay as they are) towards each other, but the commitment and care they have for each other genuinely warms my heart. Especially the fact that like, Lorenz is SO determined to ensure Lysithea takes care of herself and the ending doesn't really imply that she dies young (only that her health is delicate/poor) in comparison to others, and she and her family get to live the quiet life they want. Of course, as an aro/ace disabled person, I think it probably hits differently for me than people who aren't just because of the fact that after the most recent time I saw their support chain/got their ending I teared up a bit (and also why I'm now adoring your trans-aro-ace Claude).

ANYWAYS, I agree IS are cowards and that's why Edelgard is the only Lord who can romance both male/female Byleth.

"For the fandom I'll have to disagree, I think the Deers have a lot a queer content and it's amazing :]"

I probably didn't word what I meant completely lol correctly-- it's not that the Deer don't have a lot of queer content, it's just that overall, they have less content in general made for them then the Black Eagles and Blue Lions.

I do ALSO love so much of the queer content made for the Deers! The Three Houses fandom is amazing.

"My only thing might be how Claude has become the first character you think of when talking about bi fe3h character which is kinda telling how wlw are dismissed in the general fandom, but its better than some people insisting he's totally straight so eh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯"

Okay, so I was kind of dancing around saying this to your last ask but you hit the nail on the head lol. I genuinely think the reason why the Deer might come across as less queer is because the "main ship" for them, so to speak, is the WLW pairing Hilda/Marianne.

Ironically when I think about bi fe3h characters my first thought is consistently Lindhardt?

"Oh and I think I disagree with Deers being the more family found-esq ( saying that bc it's a great subject of I discussion and I want to hear more about your opinion on the matter )

The Lions is the family where they all stick together through thick and thin, following Dimitri to hell and back, but their relationship are complexe and not always healthy ( mostly at the beginning with like Dimitri & Felix or Ingrid & Sylvain ).

The Eagles are the found family where a lot of them bitch about each other at first but they end up with deep relationship where they take care for each other and stand together against the world, even sticking together during the time skip ( also because they kinda all killed each other dad )."

Okay so I definitely agree with you that they're all found family, explicitly in the text lol. What I meant in my statement that they're the most found-family-esq is that you get to see the development of ALL their relationships and becoming that family together on screen.

The Lions (a mess, and I love them), are pretty heavily involved with each other at the beginning of the game. A lot of the intrigue with them is the fact that they all have backstory stuff going on with each other (save for Ashe, I think, but we kill his dad on screen so). Mercedes and Annette went to Sorcery School together, Felix/Sylvain/Dimitri/Ingrid are all childhood friends with intense complications, and the trauma and deliberate kindness that brought together Dimitri and Dedue makes me emotional.

Similarly to them, the Black Eagles all have a history with each other (save for Dorothea) as well. There's the insane and amazing devotion between Edelgard and Hubert, Lindhardt and Caspar's childhood friendship, the onesided rivalry going on between Ferdinand and Edelgard since they were kids and Hubert's judgement of Ferdinand for it. Petra and Bernadetta, technically don't have pre-established relationships with the others, but in ways that are deliberately intense. Petra is blatantly a political hostage in the Academy Era in a way that really informs her relationship with Edelgard and Hubert even before they get to know her. Additionally Bernadetta's isolation creates a kind of infamy between her and the other nobles.

The Golden Deer, on the other hand, don't really have as many intense bonds going in (and thus, in my opinion, makes it easier for Byleth to integrate amongst them as an eventual equal). There's the preestablished dynamic of Lorenz being suspicious of and wanting to best Claude, but it's a recently developed dynamic, as Claude only appeared a year ago. This would be a bigger personal issue if he was leading a house like the Blue Lions or the Black Eagles (noble heavy as they are), but it's barely an issue in the Deer and not just because of the commoners. Hilda, Lorenz, Lysithea, and Marianne are not close. In all his supports with the three of them, Lorenz is the one reaching out because of his belief that their time in the Academy should be used to form better and closer connections with other nobles. There is nothing to imply that there was any substance to their pre-existing relationships. The only two who have anything to their relationship before the game starts, are Raph and Iganatz, who haven't spoken in years, mostly due to guilt on Ignatz's behalf for what happened to Raphael's family.

So as a result, you get to see the bonds being formed and deepened with the Golden Deer from scrap. Obviously some development happens off screen during the time skip, but other than that the Deer's found family forms and develops completely on screen, which is why I think it's the most found family-esq of the three.

In fact, it's a huge part of Claude's story. It's something you don't really notice in his route, but it's really clear when you don't pick him. While Edelgard and Dimitri kind of can't function and literally can't without Byleth's support, Claude has probably the highest survivability rate when you don't choose him of any character save technically Marianne. He survives the Blue Lions route, the Black Eagles route (if you spare him), and is implied to have survived the Silver Snow route. When he doesn't have Byleth, he still survives, so not choosing him isn't as dramatic. But it's easy to see that without Byleth as a teacher, he doesn't open up enough to the Deer. Dimitri and Edelgard have assured loyalty from their houses (even Ferdie and Felix) becuase of these pre-established relationships and positions, but Claude has to earn it. That's why Hilda, despite being his vassal, is recruit-able so long as you don't choose Black Eagles (the only route where he can die). Without Byleth, although the Deer do grow close, they don't do it as quick or as closely as they do with the Professor. Claude is a character who's never been able to truly rely on others, even if they care about him, and being able to rely on Byleth allows him to open up and rely on the Deer and truly trust them. I mean, Claude's two most relied upon people in the Deer (as seen in 3Hopes when he goes against Dimitri) are Hilda and Lorenz. I don't think people talk enough about how insane it is that Claude trusts Hilda Goneril with his life, considering he's an Alymran prince.

That's also why I think the Deer are so good for Byleth. I don't think any of the other route's are bad for Byleth at all, but I think the deer provide something to Byleth that neither the Lions or the Eagles can bring to her: a single of equivalency. Byleth is only slightly older than her students in the Academy Era and is in fact younger than most of them in the War Era, and yet it's only really with the Deer that she feels like she's amongst peers (whether it be because of the commoner/noble ratio or that she's as much of a stranger to them as they are to each other.) I mean, Claude is literally the only character who doesn't call refer to her by her Profession.

Anyways, TLDR: I think they're the most found family because a huge part of the Golden Deer route is them getting to know and love each other from scratch, and being a found family is a much bigger thematic aspect for them then it is for the other two houses.

"However, for me the deer and the diverse queer content around them is heavily a fandom thing. When I say the deer are "too straight for me", I meant it for the game directly. Like you have the Black Eagles where not only litteraly every characters is canon queer/has heavily subtext but has also its whole narrative drenched in queer metaphor! You have the Blue Lions where, while there's less "canon queer", you litteraly cannot say most of its members are straight with how heavy the subtext that's barely even subtext anymore is: there's 0 straight explanation for Felix crying more at Dimitri death than his wife, or him dying the same day as Sylvain because they can't live without each other."

"But for the Deers… You have Hilda/Marianne and Claude/Lorenz as the most popular one but while their relationship are so fascinating, when you only look only at the game, they feel too platonic? Especially compared to a Dedue/Dimitri ( like a family in private. took up a post at his grave for the most of his days. BURIED BESIDE EACHOTHER ) or a Ferdinand/Hubert ( rare A+ support, with blushing, their own little surname, Ferdinand/Edelgard support changing just to mention Ferdinand drinking coffee ). Otherwise you have Leonie/Lysithea which stop at B. You have Raphael/Ignatz where they decided to just push the relationship to make their ending all about Ignatz with his sister."

Okay, so I definitely agree with you that those things are canon queer and subtext, and that it's a shame they don't push the Raphael/Ignatz stuff and focus on Ignatz and Raph's sister (which is admittedly adorable to me).

Again, I'm aro/ace, so for me, queerness doesn't necessarily require romance as a prerequisite? Which is why I like Lorenz and Lysithea's ending, lol.

Hilda/Marianne in no way reads platonic to me, so I really disagree with you there. Hilda treats Marianne completely differently to how she treats everyone else in game. Their support chain is focused on how Hilda, who manipulates her way out of doing anything she doesn't want to, chooses to consistently over and over again do things for Marianne that she can't, and refuses to let Marianne feel bad over it. She leverages this into Marianne buying her pastries and them having a lunch date together. Their A support consists of Marianne questioning their regular dynamic of doing this and Hilda reassuring that she enjoys it so much she'd feel odd if it changed. They compliment each other to the point where Hilda starts to get a little flustered, and Hilda's even able to poke fun a little at Marianne and get Marianne to poke fun at her back. Marianne laughs at Hilda, and Hilda textually thinks it's adorable and can't even get mad at it because it's so cute. Marianne seems so genuinely happy and herself (even in negative ways!) with Hilda, and can rely on her in a way that doesn't make her feel inadequate or a burden.

I can understand as being able to view Claude/Lorenz as platonic, especially since I will never diverge from my Claude/Byleth endings, but I think they can also still be read pretty textually clear and potentially romantic. Part of this is Lorenz, who just, is very clearly gay to me? But again, part of this is the fact that a huge part of the Lorenz/Claude dynamic is them being viewed textually as equals, which is something that will and can never happen with Edelgard/Dimitri and their rival characters. Their support chain is all about getting to know and respect each other as they grow to care for one another, and while it isn't explicitly as romantic as Marianne/Hilda, I think their paired ending really speaks a lot for itself, in that Claude trusts Lorenz to be Fodlan's face of diplomacy towards Almyra. He trusts Lorenz to help him achieve his dream in the most direct way possible, something I think you can absolutely compare to his relationship with Byleth in their S-Support. Additionally about their support chain, their A-support really is about affirming to the player how close they've become, how fond they are of each other, and how neither of them can imagine the future of Fodlan without the other one in it. While there isn't a lot of direct text between Claude/Lorenz, I think there is absolutely enough subtext that you could read them romantically, especially from Lorenz's POV. The hard thing with this game is that each character needs to be able to be paired with Byleth, so they can never be textually obviously/blatantly in love with another character save for Byleth until their paired ending, and I think that absolutely holds doubly true for Lord characters, which is why I think Claude/Lorenz relies more on subtext.

I do think it's a shame that Lysithea doesn't have any A supports with women in her own house. Leonie like you mentioned is an adorable one, and I think Lysithea has a huge crush on Hilda in the ones with her, and there is definite potential in the one she has with Marianne (which in my opinion is a kinder, more gentle version of her supports with Ignatz).

I also think there's a few other support chains where there is a queer romance blossoming, they just don't get the chance to have an ending. A big one for me, personally, that I think deserved more, is Ignatz and Lorenz. I also think Leonie and Marianne's support chain was very cute, and deserved an A.

This is kind of what I was saying when I answered your last ask, I think, wherein the Deer have queer romance, but because the don't have a big blow up mlm ship (Claude is more often shipped with Dimitri + a lot of people aren't as fond of Lorenz as I think they should be lol), they kind of get sidelined as their big queer ship is WLW. And unfortunately in most fandoms, wlw ships are rarely as popular or have as much pushing force.

And also, I think, that the deer are queer without having as much romance. Their romantic pairings are far less set in store then the other two houses, I think, and part of that is because a lot of their endings read really queer platonic to me. Plus, a lot of the heavy romance lifting in the explicit text for a lot of supports tends to happen in the A/A+ region, and a several of the wlw/mlm golden deer pairings only go to B, which I think is a shame and forces them to rely more on subtext.

Additionally, because they're not the revolutionary or chivalry aligned House, a lot of their endings aren't written as...dramatically? Like I adore Felix/Sylvain to death (I have a print of them hanging next to my Claude one lol), but their childhood promise is very much the product of living in Faergus, similarly to how Hubert and Ferdinand's relationship is defined by them living in the Empire. I think because the Alliance politics are far less dramatic (or are far more dramatic in a visibly different way) the subtext for Claude and Lorenz's Romeo/Juliet for politics thing doesn't come across as huge as two characters who promised to die with each other as kids and keep it (insane I love them).

That's why in my original post I talk about loving how normal the Deer are, and I think ultimately a part of that comes from their setting: the Alliance. In my first play through, I specifically chose having my loyalties lie (in the initial meeting with the Lords) with the Alliance, because to me, someone who had no real context for the game, the Alliance was the closest thing to a democracy from what little we'd hard of each nation. Politics informs almost every aspect of the Golden Deer; sure it's played for angst and importance in the other two routes (Duscur/Sylvain's Crest Complex/Felix's problem with the chivalry system for the Blue Lions--with the latter two never being things that are textually resolved in the Kingdom's government--and Enbarr/those who Slither in the Dark for the Black Eagles), but Claude actually has to balance what other lords want in the War phase, and it's his ability to be so good at politicking that enables the Alliance to consistently remain neutral in the war. So a lot of the subtext stuff comes to fruition through the realm of politics in a way it doesn't entirely through the other two, if that makes sense. It's a huge gesture of love that Claude can trust Lorenz with his dream.

"The Deers are for me more like an actual close group of friend: their life are not going to revolve around each other like it does with the other houses, but they won't hesitate to come for that 5 years reunion to see the other. It's kinda like you say they're so normal in a good way! They tease each other but they don't hate each other in the way of a Dimitri/Felix, a Caspar/Petra, a Ferdinand/Hubert ( except for Lorenz but like, it's Lorenz ). They won't kill the other dad, but they'll sure as hell support each other like Lorenz and Ignatz or Marianne and Raphael. They might not start a revolution together but they will listen to the other even when it’s total heresy ( Leonie & Claude, such an incredible support :’) ) and help the other to reach their goal… I do agree with you it’s linked to not knowing each other before, but on that, isn’t knowing each other before more of a Lion thing than not knowing being a Deer thing? I don’t know, the BE are kind of a middle ground."

I both agree and disagree with what you've said here!

I think it's true, that in any route where you don't choose Byleth, the Deer are textually viewed much more as just close friends rather then found family, whereas I think if you chose their route they end up much closer (as I said above). I think the Black Eagles and Blue Lions have their lives, by nature, revolve around each other since they're literally all Nobles and thus part of the governning system of this world (with the exception of Dorothea). I think the Golden Deer have to make it a much more deliberate choice, and I do think it's something they do after the War in any route (assuming the majority of them have been allowed to live) because that sort of thing just forms a life long bond between people that's hard to shake without deliberate effort I can't imagine any of them truly wanting to put in.

They are normal! None of them hate each other! They don't have that sort of intensity, but they do have a lot of complexity that lends itself very well to found family. I think a big part of that complexity lends itself to the lack of killing (although I don't really think any of their parents deserve to be killed whether they've alive or dead?). The fact that Lorenz's dad has Claude's uncle killed (which when combined with Hilda, again, being a fucking Goneril is INSANE my man's two best friends are people who have reason to kill him for BOTH SIDES OF HIS ANCESTRY) and thus gets Raph's parents killed is something truly heartbreaking, and yet I think it's because there's no violence amongst each other or against the previous generation that characters like Claude (has had violence perpetuated against him for his heritage), Marianne (has had implied violence perpetuated against her for her crest), and Lysithea (has had violence perpetuated against her to get her second crest) are able to feel safe amongst the Deer. Violence is an intense choice, but I think lack of violence should also be viewed as something deliberate and chosen, esp. in the world of Three Houses. I mean, throughout Verdant Wind Claude is constantly complaining about the perpetuation of violence caused by the War! He's someone who deliberately chooses direct harm reduction. Although, to in fact speak of violence, I think it's absolutely insane that Hilda "I refuse to die for my friends" Goneril will willingly die for Claude "DO NOT DIE FOR MY SAKE FLEE PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU RETREAT" von Riegan's sake.

I do think that the Golden Deer are the most similar to a modern queer friend group and thus would be the easiest to make a 1:1 comparison, but again the events of the game do kind of necessitate that they are found family because they go through a war together. Their group dynamics are probably the most influenced by Byleth (Dimitri and his relationships with others while "mad" of course, aside), and it's really hard to make generalizations about them because again, the fact that she is not there to facilitate these close bonds makes it a lot harder for them to be as close as they are before the war as they end up being, although even without Byleth I still think they're exceedingly close. But yes, I agree, they do not live in each other's pockets, which does not make them any less found family, but does, probably, make them healthier in modern context lol.

(As a side note about Byleth and the house leaders: I think what she visibly provides to Edelgard and Dimitri is a lot more obvious than what she provides to Claude. She helps the both of them in maintaining themselves and not loosing themselves to the burden of leadership and trauma. Claude, however, is a character who has been handling both of those things alone, and we are shown that he is capable of handling them alone without massive cracks appearing in Three Houses. Claude does not need Byleth to live, as the other two directly do. Byleth gives Claude someone consistent and trustworthy to rely on, which opens him up to being able to do it with the other members of his house far easier then he's able to otherwise.)

Anyways! I think the Golden Deer are very queer, just more subtextually so then the Black Eagles and Blue Lions. I personally view a lot of the straight endings, so to speak, as queerplatonic (again Lorenz/Lysithea and honestly Leonie/Ignatz). Romance is a pretty easy metric to view queer storytelling through, but I don't think I'd see Sylvain as any less of a queer character if he didn't have his paired ending with Felix because of how his story is written. In a similar way, I think characters like Ignatz (wanted to be a painter, but it's not what his family wants for him; yearns to be creative and is self conscious about people thinking it'll interfere in his duties and has to learn to accept himself and his true dreams) and Marianne (sees herself as a monster that other people won't accept if they knew the true her and what she's hiding) are also queer without needing to be in romances, which is why the fandom gets a lot out of them subtextually.

Acceptance, I think, can be viewed as a very queer theme, and I think it's a prominent one within the Deer.

[mt-musings]

To Inherit the Night - 12

“I believe we may have found one more victim of Those Who Slither in the Dark,” Hubert whispered to Edelgard, eyes not leaving the newest addition to the Black Eagles class. She was slight to the point of being sickly, her waist-length hair a shock of white that faded to the same lavender as their leader, tied back with a fraying silk ribbon. But she gave the lot of them a sweet, shy smile, though he noticed the way she retreated back towards the two boys from her House. 

“Indeed,” Edelgard whispered back, eyes locked on the girl with something almost like recognition. Hubert felt that old rage rear its head, the rage at having failed in his duty to protect Edelgard, to protect the future Emperor. He felt only a detached sort of pity for the new girl, though he watched her carefully as she took a seat next to her House leader, noted the way they moved in tandem, like parts of a matched set. 

He mentally noted it to be used later for his advantage.

Hubert spent the rest of the class watching the newcomers, rather than paying attention to the lesson. It was remedial in nature anyway—basic offensive magic, the sort he’d learn at seven at his father’s knee. 

His mood darkened at the thought of his father, as it always did. He brushed the train of thought away before it could put him in a foul mood. 

He turned his attention back to the Ashen Wolves, most of whom had already allowed their attention to lapse. Only the youngest girl took notes, nose only a few inches from her notebook. 

Not a practiced magic user then. A shame, then, seeing as she was too slight to pose any threat as a physical fighter. At least on an even-set battlefield. But as leverage against the others—

He was getting ahead of himself. 

None of them had proven so far to be of any worth to Lady Edelgard. 

Still he found his eyes wandering to her. She was much quieter than the others, though it was clear from her gaze that she was intelligent, observant—those were skills in and of themselves that proved useful, especially in his line of work.

He made it a point to introduce himself after class let out. He expected her to shrink back in fear, perhaps shriek like Bernadetta, but instead she stuck out her hand in an endearingly common sort of way. He shook it, even though he usually wouldn’t have.

“And your name is?” He asked when she didn’t offer it.

“Oh, of course. It’s Cecily.”

“Just Cecily?” he asked, raising a brow. 

“Cecily Leclerc. She’s my little sister. I’m Yuri.” Hubert looked up at the older boy who’d cleverly inserted himself into their conversation, smirking at him. He certainly shared the same sort of striking, delicate features, though his eyes were the same lavender as his hair and hers were odd, one violet, the other palest blue. He wore a fair amount of makeup to accentuate his natural beauty, but she wore none, not even anything to disguise the three jagged scars that cut through her cheek, from her nose to her ear. She’d have been very pretty without them, but even so there was some sort of mesmerizing quality to her, even disfigured. 

“It is nice to meet you both. I’m sure you’ll prove assets to the Black Eagles. The professor spoke highly of your ‘house.’”

To his surprise the girl—Cecily—snorted, trying to cover up a laugh.

“And what exactly is funny about proving valuable to the Empire?” He asked, slightly annoyed.

“Nothing at all, though I hope you enjoy being disappointed,” she said, giggling to herself. Yuri smacked her lightly. 

“We’ll let you get on with your day,” Yuri said, dragging Cecily away by the arm. She gave him a little wave before following, still giggling to herself. 

There were two ways to interpret her little outburst. One—the one he’d been conditioned to leap to—was that she was plotting something, that she planned to make herself a significant thorn in his and Lady Edelgard’s side. The other, which seemed more likely, was that she found the idea of proving to be any use at all funny. 

She didn’t seem to be the daft sort, so it made sense that she’d be well-aware of her lack of available resources, he was sure she could tell from her first lesson that she was far behind the others in the class, and she was too small and too wispy to be of any threat on the battlefield. 

It was strange to see such cheerful, fatalistic humor from one so young. The professor had said the youngest of their class was barely sixteen and he doubted greatly any of the others were younger than her. 

He kept an eye on her in classes, mostly because her response had struck him odd enough to make her interesting. It didn’t help that she didn’t seem to find him frightening in the least. She’s give him a small smile whenever she caught him looking at her before turning back to her work.

She was diligent in her studies. She never spoke in class, but her quill never stopped scratching and she almost always stayed after class to keep working. He’d thought she’d be a disgrace on the training field, but he’d been wildly mistaken. Small or not, if given a sword she was quite dangerous, if given a bow she was deadly and the one time the Professor had let her mess around with a set of Dagdan throwing knives she’d been frightening. 

Perhaps it had been wrong of him to assume that she was useless based on looks alone. She had managed to survive well enough down in the tunnels below the monastery. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” he asked, standing next to the table where she was meant to be eating, though she seemed to have forgotten about her food in favor of pouring over an enormous tome of what looked to be flora of the region. She looked up, eyebrows furrowing for a moment before she nodded.

“Of course, Hubert. But where is Edel—Lady Edelgard?” She asked, quickly correcting herself from addressing her informally, even though Lady Edelgard had insisted they all could refer to her as such. It left a strange sort of fond feeling in his chest. 

“She is dining with the Professor. I saw you here alone and thought you might like some company. You usually dine with your brother or one of the other members of your house, but I daresay I haven’t seen any of them since lessons concluded,” he said, sitting across from her.

“Oh, I think Baltie said something about another assassin, so I bet that’s where he and Hapi went. Constance is working on some new strange spell and Yuri—I’m not sure where Yuri went. Maybe to the market? I wasn’t paying attention much,” she said, marking her page before shutting her book, though he noticed before she did that it was turned to a section entirely on poisons. 

“An assassin?" he asked, rather taken aback by how blithely she tossed it out in conversation.

“Oh yes. Don’t worry, they’re never very good,” she said, turning back to her meal as if it were a perfectly ordinary thing to say.

Well, it might have been perfectly ordinary coming out of his mouth, but he’d never have guessed he’d hear it out of hers.

“Is this an often occurrence?”

“For Baltie or in general in Abyss? I mean, the answer’s the same in both cases.”

“That hardly seems very safe.”

She laughed, wrinkling her nose. “Oh, that’s adorable.”

“I’m being quite serious,” he said, unsure why he even cared. It wasn’t as if she’d proven her usefulness, nor had he known her for more than a few weeks. Still, the idea of her in the decrepit tunnels beneath the monastery, surrounded by every manor of vile criminal to the point where she spoke of them so casually made his stomach turn for some reason. 

She stopped laughing, looking nearly guilty. “Sorry. I thought—I thought maybe you were trying to be funny.”

She turned back to her food, shoulders slightly curved in on themselves. 

Perhaps he should have simply pretended he’d meant to be funny. He felt rather bad stifling her laughter. 

“Why are you researching poisons?” he asked nodding at the book. Once more, to his surprise she smiled. 

“Oh! I’m trying to figure out which ones are most effective when applied to a blade and which are most effective when ingested. I’d like to understand why, but I don’t have the basis in chemistry or biology, so the practical answer is fine for now. Linhardt said this would be a good book to start with, it’s very interesting,” she said. She spoke faster when she was excited about something, her eyes glimmering. It was the first time he’d seen her so animated.

“That is a very specific avenue of inquiry, for sure. I’m not sure if the library has a copy of Leticia the Younger’s manual for toxic herbology, but it might be of some use. If they don’t I could lend you my copy.”

“Really? That’s very nice of you to offer.”

“Yes, well, it is a useful line of inquiry. If you wanted to discuss it further—“

“Why hello there, Hubert, Cecily. What on earth has you both in such rapt attention?” Ferdinand asked, sitting himself next to Cecily without prelude. Hubert scowled at him but Cecily grinned, though he recognized a spark of mischief behind her eyes.

“We were talking about you, actually, Ferdinand. We were just saying what an admirable job you did in training today with the axe, considering you lack Lady Edelgard’s natural endurance and athleticism. It truly is inspiring.”

Hubert watched in amusement as Ferdinand opened and closed his mouth several times as he tried to formulate a response to her extremely backhanded compliment. He was sure he was mostly struggling because she’d managed to say it in such an endearing, nearly-awed way that it was impossible to tell if she’d meant to be mean at all. 

“I assure you, I shall surpass her in the axe, just as I will surpass her in all things.”

“This childish rivalry of yours is frankly embarrassing,” Hubert said, raising an eyebrow. “You need to learn your place.”

“My place is as—"

“Well, I’ll leave you to that. I have, um, errands to run. Goodbye,” she said, quickly packing up her things and grabbing her tray to return. She gave them both a little wave before scurrying off. 

Hubert couldn’t help but turn back to Ferdinand, annoyed that he’d managed to chase away the most interesting conversational partner he’d found, other than Lady Edelgard, of course, in under fifteen seconds. 

“She’s a rather odd girl, don’t you think? Very sweet, but strange. Perhaps it’s the way she speaks, it’s like she’s playing at being a noble,” Ferdinand said, watching her disappear towards the greenhouse. 

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“The formal way she speaks. It’s like she learned from story books. Maybe that’s what serves for manners down in those tunnels,” he said, shaking his head as he turned to his food. Hubert didn’t respond, instead turning his attention to his now-cold dinner. 

Detestable as it was to admit, Ferdinand was right about the odd way in which she spoke—it just hadn’t struck him as so until he’d mentioned it.

~~~

Cecily ducked into the Ashen Wolves’ classroom, dropping her book bag on one of the desks. Yuri looked up, furrowing his brow.

“Where have you been?”

“Library, then dinner. It’s free and dare I say palatable.”

“Well, that’s always an improvement on the usual,” he said, huffing a laugh. She dug in her bag and pulled out the small crockery she’d wedged on top of all her books and notes with an extra portion and set it down in front of him.

“You’re a delight,” he said, pulling off the lid.

“So what’s the plan?” she asked, dropping down into a seat and kicking her feet up on the desk. 

“I haven’t even decided whether you’re coming or not.”

She laughed, the sound dark. “It’s adorable you think you have a choice.”

He made a face. She knew he hated when she turned his own favorite lines against him.

“That doesn’t make me more inclined to take you.”

“I mean, I could handle it myself. We wouldn’t have any more problems—“

“No. I’m trying to limit bloodshed and any retribution we might incur.”

“Hard to plot revenge if they’re all dead.”

“Cella—“

“I’m just—well I’m not joking. I just think they got their chance and they shat on it, so now we put the lot of them down like vermin before anyone gets the idea that the Savage Mockingbird has gone soft.”

“We’re not killing them all. At least not tonight.”

“I’m free tomorrow.”

“Knock it off. You know I hate it when you’re like this.”

“What? Right?”

“Not everything has to be scorched earth.”

“And clever threats are heeded more readily when the promise of violence is inevitable when they’re ignored.”

“Leave it, we’ll see if Kolya comes through on his end of the bargain. One last chance, then we’ll talk what happens next. They’re worth more to us alive at this point?”

“As patsies?” she asked. He smiled.

“See? This is why we don’t immediately go to scorched earth when they can serve a purpose.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes, before digging out her book from her bag. 

“Are you still stuck on poisons?” Yuri asked. She nodded.

“I have a couple theories I was to work out.”

“You sound like Constance, I feel like I should be worried.”

“I won’t try them on you, I promise,” she said with a crooked smile. 

“I thought you were focussing on learning proper magic.”

“It’s harder than I thought. I didn’t realize how much math it would be.”

“You’re clever, you’ll figure it out.”

“You’re not going to offer to help?” she asked, half laughing.

“Why would you want my help? I’m fairly crap at it.”

“Well I’m definitely crap at it, so it’s a step up.”

“You should ask Dorothea.”

“Maybe.”

“You could use some friends.”

“I have friends.”

“Friends from Topside.”

“Why?”

“It would be good for you.”

She made a face, but didn’t respond, instead picking up where she’d left off in the dining hall. She got about two pages in before Yuri spoke again.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do about Sylvain?”

“Wait and see if it’s an issue in the first place. He hasn’t recognized me yet, so I doubt he will.”

“That’s because you duck him every time he comes within a hundred yards.”

“It’s working so far.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he said, and she chose to ignore the sarcasm in his voice. She didn’t want to keep bickering—it seemed like that was all they were doing lately.

At least since they’d started at the Academy.

She knew why of course. Yuri wanted to use it as an opportunity to push her onto the straight and narrow, to get her out from under the wing of his little birds. It was admirable, but the opposite of what she wanted.

She wanted more, wanted to lean into a larger role, show him just what she was capable of, that she wasn’t just a scared little girl he had to protect. After all, she was good at the work, better than any of his other little birds. They didn’t have her advantages, of course, but then again, no one did. 

She’d been born for the dark and the shadows.  

~~~

Hubert didn't knock before stepping into Cecily's sitting room. She looked up from where she perched on the couch, clad in rough trousers and a men's shirt, both of white were too big for her. She was flipping something over in her hands, something palm sized, with a familiar gold glint. It was a small cigarette case, one that he'd seen hundreds of times.

He was surprised by the flash of anger that filled him. 

“Where did you get that?” Hubert asked sharply, swiping the case from her before she could protest. There were new designs scratched into its surface, dozens of staring eyes, but the original, even disfigured, was still clear. 

Loyal to the Death.

She’d changed it, scraping at the ‘th’ to make a clumsy ‘d’ so it read Loyal to the Dead. 

Neither one had been true about its original owner. 

It had been his father’s, he had countless memories of him pulling out of the inside breast pocket of his jacket after dinner, of him standing next to the open window to smoke his imported Dagdan cigarettes in deference to his mother, who hated the habit. 

Why did she have it? How—he’d looked for it, after his father’s execution, in a rare fit of sentimentality. He’d meant to crush it up and toss it in the fire, but it hadn’t been anywhere. 

“Where did you get this?” He asked, voice harsher then he meant. She didn’t flinch back at his tone like he was used to.

“Corpse,” she answered, purposely unhelpful, eyeing him with the loathing he was becoming accustomed to.

“What corpse?”

“A warm one. One of yours.”

One of his agents had taken it? Of all the disloyal—“Where? Where did you find it?”

“The Ohgmas. In Varley. Can I have it back?”

“No,” he said, still staring at it and wondering why it left him feeling so unsettled.

“I found it, it’s mine, I want it back,” she retorted, attempting to swipe it out of his hand but he held it high out of her reach.

“No. I’ll get you a new one.”

“I don’t want a new one.”

“I don’t care.” 

She glared at him, teeth clenched. “At least give me back the cigarettes.”

“Fine,” he said, pulling them out and dropping them into her palm. She stalked back off to the door to the balcony and stepped out, slamming it behind her, hard enough that the glass rattled. He pocketed the case, spotting a worn book of matches on the side table. He was sure they were Cecily’s—no one in the palace would keep such a ragged, cheap thing, not even the servants. Of course the servants also had clothes that weren’t riddled with holes and didn’t look a few skipped meals from withering away completely. 

He sighed and grabbed the matches. He walked to the balcony door and pulled it open, finding her sitting on one of the lounge chairs with her feet propped up on the railing, staring into the garden. She looked so horribly out of place in her tattered peasant clothes, the garden around her lush and full of life while she appeared courting death. 

He handed her the matches wordlessly, jaw tight. It was hard to believe this frail woman was the one hunting down Arundel’s outposts, that she’d been capable of killing his agents, of doing anything more than surviving a day at a time. She had been such a lively creature at the Academy, practically bursting with life. 

He’d expected some version of that girl, viciously angry and out for blood, not this shell that seemed resigned to her fate. He wondered if it was the war that had broken her, or if it had been him, his threats.

It didn’t matter—it was for her sake he did it, even if she didn’t know, if she never knew. He could look after her quietly, while she hated him, atone, just a little, for the evils he committed in pursuit of a greater good. 

“I can bring you books from the library, if that would help pass the time,” he said as she lit a cigarette and took a long drag. 

“You could let me see Yuri.”

“He’s not here. The deal was he went into the Empire’s service and he’s allowed to see you. He’ll be back in time for the wedding.”

“Wouldn’t want him to miss that,” she said darkly, mostly to herself, as she took another drag. He sighed. 

“I have things to attend to. I’ll have food and books sent up. If you need anything else the guard at the door will see it brought to you.”

He didn’t tell her the guard at the door was there more to ensure no one crept in to her chambers, then to keep her confined. Cecily didn’t say anything, merely narrowing her eyes at his words, so he left. He stalked to his office, scribbling out a set of instructions which he passed along to one of his pages to be completed. He rubbed at his temples as he turned towards his list for the day, already developing a migraine at the thought of everything that had to get done. 

It only got worse when his door opened and a familiar, ginger-haired figure appeared. 

“Oh, Hubert! I assumed you’d be taking the day off.”

“Why on earth would I do that?” He asked as he began reading through one of the three dozen proposals on his desk to be deemed important enough for the Emperor’s eyes or not. 

“I was under the impression that Cecily had arrived unexpectedly and that she was—well. I just thought you would want to spend some time at her side catching up.”

“We are at war, there’s hardly time for such frivolity,” he said, tossing the proposal in the bin before starting on the next one. 

“The stablehand said she looked half-starved when she arrived and covered in bruises.”

“That was generous of him.”

“Aren’t you concerned? What happened?”

“I don’t know. She hasn’t been very forthcoming.”

“Well, I’m sure she needs time and gentleness. The two of you should come for dinner tonight with Thea and I. We can invite Edelgard and the professor and have a little reunion celebration. I daresay that would life her spirits.”

“Perhaps another time, after she gains some strength. For now she is recovering in her chambers.”

“We could always come to her—“

“Another time.”

“Of course, we should let her settle. I’m sure it’s quite the change, for both of you.”

“Is there a point to all of this, Ferdinand? I have things to prepare before the advisors’ meeting with her Majesty.”

“I was merely inquiring after our long-lost friend and classmate.”

“There is nothing much to tell.”

“So then you are not engaged?”

Hubert finally looked up, shooting him a dirty look. “Where did you hear that?”

“Edelgard told me. She thought perhaps you could use some pointers in the realm of romance.”

So, she was punishing him. He supposed he deserved it.

“I assure you, I’m quite fine.”

“Says the man buried in paperwork in his office as his long-lost love languishes alone in an unfamiliar place.”

“I think she can survive a few hours in a guest chamber. I had a selection of books sent over.”

“You’re hopeless, Hubert.”

“And you’re absurd. You needn’t meddle. Cecily and I have an understanding.”

“An understanding? By the Goddess.”

Ferdinand stared at him like he’d gone mad, shaking his head. He stared for another moment before turning on his heel and leaving without another word. 

Hubert sighed, tossing the second proposal in the bin after the first. Perhaps Ferdinand might have had a point if the whole thing wasn’t coerced, if they’d felt the same as they had before the war, if she didn’t so clearly loathe the very idea of him. Perhaps then he’d be on the balcony with her as he sorted through proposals, teasingly discouraging her from chain smoking at least until she put on some weight. Perhaps then he’d have been holding her hand as they both read, absently playing with the ring on her left hand.

He hadn’t gotten her a ring. 

He’d have to, before the ceremony, before he couldn’t fend off his friends’ requests to see her again. 

The rest of the day dragged in the most irritating of ways, his foul mood only growing with the hours. Edelgard shot him more than one searching look, which he ignored. He didn’t need anyone’s romantic advice and he certainly didn’t need her pity. He’d made his bed and he was fully prepared to lie in it.

He was surprised when Edelgard dismissed him at half-five—they usually worked well into the night, often without break.

“Go.”

“We have more battle plans to finalize, supply lines to reenforce—“

“Go have dinner with your fiancé, Hubert.”

“I’m sure she’d prefer her own company.”

“Go.”

He sighed and bowed, gathering up his papers before departing. He half considered merely barricading himself in his office, rather than facing her, but something in him, something supremely masochistic, longed to see her. 

She wasn’t in the small sitting room when he entered a few minutes later, nor was she out on the balcony. He could see where the books he’d requested had been left on the coffee table, a half dozen of them lying open throughout the room as if she’d gotten bored midway through them. He knocked on the bedroom door before pushing it open, wondering if her reluctant complacence that morning had been an act, if she’d somehow managed to shimmy down from the balcony and he’d have to spend the next six hours finding her in the city and dragging her back.

Instead he found her laying on the floor with her feet up on the wall, reading a paperback he knew hadn’t been on his list. All the curtains had been drawn, leaving the room in darkness, except for a lone shaft of light she was using to read. 

“What are you doing? Why are you on the floor?”

“What do you care?”

“You’re lying in on the floor in the dark reading—reading what?”

She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment before dog-earing her page and tossing it under the bed, no doubt to make it so he’d have to half crawl under it if he actually wanted to know whatever it was that she’d wanted enough to ask the guard to have it fetched. 

He could almost admire that level of pettiness.

“What do you want?”

“I thought we could have dinner.”

“Together?”

“Obviously.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Then I believe it’s phrased, ‘we’re having dinner Cecily. Go sit at the table like a good little pet or I’ll kill your brother,’” she said, her voice light despite the harshness of her words.

Hubert stared at her as she got up and stalked past him, back into the drawing room. Was that what he was turning her into? A wild songbird locked in a gilded cage? 

He pressed his hands to his face for a long moment, squeezing his eyes shut. Then he took a deep breath before telling the guard to fetch them dinner. He took a few moments to move the books from the coffee table before he grabbed an old chess board from one of the cabinets. She watched as he set it up, black facing him, eyes narrowed. He motioned for her to take the seat across from him and she did, after only a moment’s hesitation. 

“Do you know how to play?”

She spun the board so she had the black pieces, giving him a dirty look. “Why don’t you find out?”

She could, in fact, and beat him soundly. He actually had to try, the second time around, but she still managed to out maneuver him at the last moment.

They didn’t fight, either, when they were playing, which he considered a small victory. He set the board aside when their dinner arrived. He’d requested one of the dishes he remembered her favoring at the monastery. She looked from it to him for the briefest second before turning back to her dinner, but didn’t say anything. They ate in silence until he broke it, trying for something neutral. 

“What other games do you enjoy?”

She shrugged.

He nodded, trying not to think of how forced conversation had become, how stilted her answers, when they’d used to bubble out of her unchecked when she got excited and she’d stop herself from rambling, or play clever and coy. 

“Did you enjoy any of the books?”

“They were fine.”

“I can find something more suited to your tastes if you tell me what you want. I was just guessing, based off some of the things you used to read.”

“I’d rather walk around the garden.”

“Perhaps we can after your bruises have healed.”

“How long am I going to be stuck in these rooms?”

“Until the wedding.”

“Then will I be locked in yours?” 

“Then you will have more freedom.”

Stared back at him through narrowed eyes, her lips pursed. She didn’t say anything, instead just pushing away her plate and dropping her head in her hands.

She’d hardly eaten half and it was a small portion.

“Cecily—“ he began, but she got up and crossed to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her, hard. He heard the lock click and sighed. 

~~~

Some people simply couldn’t be reasoned with. 

Which was why she was now attempting to sneak back to the entrance to Abyss under cover of night positively splattered in blood. She’d have Walked back if it weren’t for the fact that she’d exhausted herself painting Kolya and the rest of his upstarts across the walls. Yuri hadn’t been pleased, but he’d agreed it had been necessary. 

She paused, briefly, hands on her knees as she took a moment to catch her breath. It shouldn’t have taken that much out of her, not a dozen rival gangsters. She’d done worse without breaking a sweat, but then again she hadn’t had to be in such control—she couldn’t exactly give into her nature with Yuri stood at her side, not for fear of accidentally hurting him. 

She shrank into the shadows, deepening them around her as she heard footsteps approaching. The figure didn’t glance her way, instead making a bee-line for the gate. They were tall, though any other discernible feature was masked by the overlarge black cloak, hood pulled low. 

She had half a mind to follow them, would have, if she wasn’t stretched so thin. She watched them disappear towards the greenhouse before crossing the last hundred yards towards Abyss’s entrance. She nodded at the Abysskeeper at the entrance to the tunnels before making her way to the Wilted Rose.

She could use a drink, or four, and something warm and mildly palatable. 

“Hey, little birdie. What are you doing up so late? Don’t you have class in the morning?”

She turned to see Balthus lounging at one of the far tables, grinning at her. He had a black eye and his uniform was covered in dirt, but other than that he hardly looked worse for wear. Cecily put in her order at the bar, making sure to specify that Balthus was absolutely not on her tab before going to join him at his table.

“Shit, pal, what happened to your face?” he asked, examining her split lip. It had yet to stop bleeding.

“What happened to yours?”

He laughed before pressing his fingers to her wound. She felt the warm tingling of healing magic and then relief. 

“Thanks man,” she said, reaching up to feel the freshly healed skin. It didn’t feel like there was even a scar. Balthus gave her an uncharacteristically piercing look before turning back to his beer. Cecily took her own cup of spirits mixed with over-sweet juice to make it drinkable, and downed half of it in one go. It left her with a pleasant sort of warm feeling. 

“You keep that up and you’ll end up an old drunk like me,” he said, half-joking as he watched her scarf down the meal the innkeeper brought.

“That would mean I’d get old, so it think that’s something to work towards.”

He barked out a laugh just as the chair next to her was pulled out. Yuri dropped into it, looking just about as exhausted as she felt.

“That was ridiculous,” he said, stealing a sip of her drink and pulling a face. “Goddess, I can’t tell if Travis loves or hates you.”

“He loves me,” she giggled, swiping her cup back to finish it. 

“Let me see your face,” Yuri said, grabbing her chin and pulling her towards him. “I know they got a couple of good swipes at you.”

“Baltie fixed it. Stop being such a mother hen.”

“I wouldn’t need to be if you had a lick of common sense.”

“You’re welcome. ‘Cause I’m sure you meant to thank me for saving your butt because I was right.”

“You’ve created a monster,” Balthus said, laughing at the look Yuri gave her. She grinned at him as she joined in Balthus’s laughter, knowing that Yuri, more than anyone, knew exactly what sort of monster she was and had very little to do with her creation. He only rolled his eyes, shaking his head. 

~~~

Someone was killing his agents. 

It would be annoying if he wasn’t terrified that it meant someone was onto Lady Edelgard’s plan. He stared around the room at the total and complete carnage, the blood splashed across the walls, the floor, the ceiling, He almost thought he should check for fur, ensure that it wasn’t some sort of beast set on them.

But that wouldn’t quite explain the wounds either, not when it almost seemed as though they’d been somehow ripped from the inside out. He’d have to begin researching, see what sort of magic could accomplish such a feat—it had to be archaic or terribly advanced if he had no clue what it could be. He couldn’t even feel the wisp of lingering power, the magical sort of fingerprint left by the caster.

There was just nothing. 

Hubert turned on his heel, careful to ensure he tracked no blood out on the soles of his shoes, that there could be nothing that could tie him to the destruction of the moldering hideout. 

At least they hadn’t managed to get their hands on the most important of his intel.

Small blessings.

~~~

Cecily grabbed the paperback from under the bed with a tendril of shadow and flipped through the pages, pulling out a handful of loose pages. It took her a moment to rearrange them on the floor, brow furrowed. It was a map of the palace, incomplete, but far more detailed than she could have hoped. Peregrine got to explore much of the castle, working in the kitchens, and was a favorite of the head cook, which meant she often was chosen to deliver to those who lived in the suites along the Inner Gardens. It had been easy to give her a few notes to smuggle out, using a bit of candle wax to press the seal of her ear cuff into. 

She studied the map for a few more minutes before gathering up the pages and tossing them into the fireplace. It was enough for her to remember, enough that she could draw it out from memory if she needed to. 

She wasn't sure what the play was, yet. Hubert had put her in a uniquely difficult position. Never, in a million years, would she have thought he'd demand to marry her, though that just proved how stupid she was. House Vestra was Crestless and Hubert worked oh so closely with Arundel. He, no doubt, knew the power that lay in her blood, assumed it could be passed on and exploited. She was little more than prized breeding stock. 

She threw the paperback against the wall, sinking to her knees, head in her hands. 

Next