Archive of Our Own

Why it was him who was expected to get Hubert a gift, rather than the other way around, he did not know.

Yes, perhaps he had started the argument and yes, perhaps loudly proclaiming Hubert Von Vestra was Lady Edelgard's lapdog who could not think for himself in the middle of the marketplace had been more ill-advised than Hubert's low, hissed insults that were inaudible to the surrounding people, but surely the hostility had been plainly mutual.

Of course, getting Hubert a gift, accepting responsibility would only give the man further ammunition to mock his big mouth and his boisterous voice, but at the end of the day, Ferdinand was prepared to do whatever he had to to ensure the empire would prosper under Edelgard's rule.

And so he found himself absently browsing the stall at the monastery, looking for a gift. He knew exactly what he would get Hubert if he actually wanted to be thoughtful, if he actually wanted the gift to impress him, but he did not. He was getting a gift because it was his duty, not because he wanted to give Hubert something he would actually like or have any use for. 

It was proving to be more difficult than he'd imagined to get such a petty gift, but when he saw the part of the stall that was adorned with flowers, a familiar plant caught his gaze and he stilled. 

Being a true, cultured noble of Aegir, with a penchant for the finer things in life, he was well acquainted with the language of flowers.

He approached the stall, humming a pleased sound and starting to gather a handful of the bright yellow flower that had stuck out to him. 

Tansy. 

He was surprised it was being sold alongside decorative bouquets, but he was not going to complain when he'd just found the perfect present.

He'd never reacted with a rash to the plant before like some did, but he still took care to wear his gloves when he picked up a good amount. Giving the merchant a brilliant smile, he bought them, paying extra to let them be wrapped into an attractive bouquet. 

On his way back to his quarters, there was nearly a spring in his step as he studied the flowers. He may have to give Hubert a gift, but oh, he would have the personal satisfaction of giving him one with such a daring, negative message. 

To give a tansy was to declare war, a meaning that felt delightfully inappropriate considering the gift was meant to resolve their arguing. 

And the best part was, it would be a silent, hidden revenge that no one would know of except for himself, a joke only he was in on, one that wouldn't tarnish his noble reputation. 

He wasn't sure where he would find Hubert at this time. Most of their encounters happened by accident - although, he was certain Hubert knew his schedule, knew everyone's schedule in the monastery. Given that it was a hot day, he decided not to waste any time looking for the other student. It would be best to give him the gift in as public a place as they'd had their argument in, so he wrote a note that he pinned to Hubert's door, asking him to meet him outside the monastery, at the same market where they'd had their initial fight. 

As much as he would have liked to ride there, he was paranoid about having the bouquet of tansies anywhere near his beloved horse, so he walked, the spring still in his step, a quiet laugh stuck in his chest at the subtle, mischievous scheme. 

He'd have to make sure to keep a straight face when he handed Hubert the flowers. 

Once he'd made it to the village, he took a stroll around, happily engaging in conversation with the people as he waited for Hubert. The mage didn't make him wait for too long, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and studying him coolly. 

"You wanted to see me," he said, his eyes flitting down to the bouquet and narrowing ever so slightly. 

Ferdinand gave him an innocent smile. 

"Hubert, ah, yes. I wanted to ask your forgiveness for how rude I was the other day. It was not appropriate behaviour for a noble, and I will strive to do better... Here, as a token of my apology," he said, holding the bouquet out to Hubert and biting his tongue to keep from showing any potential tell on his face. 

Hubert's expression was as unreadable as it usually was, but after a moment, he took the bouquet, his gaze never leaving Ferdinand. 

"How generous," he said, his voice entirely without infliction, staring at Ferdinand for another moment. "... Is that all?"

Ferdinand furrowed his brow, finding it a rather rude, ungrateful reaction to being given a gift, but this time, he knew better than to start another argument out in public, so he simply nodded. 

"... Perhaps we should return to the monastery then," Hubert said coolly. "I'm sure you want to be back before nightfall... You're here on foot?" he remarked, his lip twitching ever so slightly, but Ferdinand didn't think anything of it, nodding again. 

"Indeed, I wanted to spare Acacia the heat," he lied conversationally, starting the walk back to the monastery.

Hubert didn't talk much, but Ferdinand didn't mind filling the silence, steering clear of topics that may turn into an argument. Unfortunately, that didn't leave many options. He and Hubert could fight over anything, he was sure.

Still, they made it back unscathed, just as the sun set, leaving the sky with the same golden-orange hue as his hair, which reminded him how badly he needed to wash it after walking in this heat.

He bid Hubert goodnight when they reached the dormitories, a courtesy Hubert rudely did not repeat back to him, but Ferdinand merely huffed and turned to walk towards his room. 

It wasn't until he reached the door and a shadow fell over him that he realised he'd been followed, and he turned around with a frown. 

"Hubert?" He barely got to finish the word, or to complain about the eerie behaviour before Hubert took a step forward. Ferdinand instinctively responded to by taking a step back, only there wasn't far to go, his back hitting the door.

As he blinked up at Hubert, the other man lifted the bouquet between them, studying it lazily.

"... These are highly toxic," he murmured lowly.

Ferdinand swallowed. 

"... Ah. I did not know." He did. "... My apologies. I assure you I wasn't trying to poison you," he tried to joke. Poisoning was more Hubert's modus operandi, after all. 

Hubert merely hummed a low sound, still studying the flowers. 

"... No. No, I doubt you were," he said eventually. "You were trying to declare war. How very melodramatic, but I suppose I should expect nothing less from you."

Ferdinand could feel his face heat up, feeling terribly caught, and he knew it was clear in his expression, which caused Hubert to laugh quietly, darkly.

"What, did you think I would not know? What do you take me for, Ferdinand?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ferdinand finally burst out, managing to gather himself a little. "I'm sure this is a mere misunderstanding, and I do feel quite exhausted," he said, reaching behind himself and feeling around for the door handle, "so perhaps we should discuss this at another time."

He managed to fumble the door open, only for a gust of wind to slam it shut again, knocking him forward. Hubert's smirk confirmed he had been the culprit, the cause of the sudden wind, and Ferdinand huffed slightly.

"To use your magic against an ally is completely unacceptable behaviour for -"

"For a noble?" Hubert finished. "And what sort of behaviour is it to give an ally a gift like this? A declaration of war."

"I assure you I did not -"

The denial got stuck in his throat when Hubert lifted a gloved hand, putting his index finger to his own lips in a shushing gesture. It was so authoritative that Ferdinand automatically shut up, cursing himself for the easy compliance immediately.

"I have dealt with far better liars than you," Hubert said smoothly. "You are embarrassing yourself by trying."

Ferdinand flushed in anger, about to lose his temper and snap at Hubert, had Hubert not plucked a single flower out of the bouquet and rested it against Ferdinand's lips, shutting him up for good. 

"Hm," Hubert hummed thoughtfully. "I assumed your skin would be sensitive enough to have a reaction," he mused, slowly tracing his lips with the flower, sliding the leaves against Ferdinand's skin, rubbing the stem against his mouth. 

Ferdinand's eyes were wide as he stared up at Hubert, frozen in place for a moment before he clenched his jaw and put both hands on Hubert's shoulders, pushing him back bodily, enough to free himself, before quickly turning away and more or less fleeing into his room. 

He slammed the door, his heart racing in his chest as he reached up to wipe his lips haphazardly. 

Outside, he heard the low, blood-curdling chuckle that had surely haunted many soldiers' nightmares and he tried, desperately, to ignore the bulge in his trousers, the ache between his legs. 

He stepped away from the door, locking it twice and fighting the urge to push his desk against it just to be safe before he sat on his bed, his heart still racing, only now he could feel the pounding in his crotch. 

Hubert moved so silently that there was no way of knowing whether or not he'd left, and Ferdinand stared at the door in quiet paranoia, but eventually, he couldn't hold back anymore, unlacing his trousers hurriedly and pushing his hand into them, desperate for relief. 

The memory replayed in his head, Hubert looming over him, close enough to feel the heat of his body, the light touch of the flower to his face, the man's low, taunting voice. Nevermind the fact that he'd quite literally been trying to poison him, to deliberately give him an allergic reaction - a painful rash right around his lips no less. The dark, nefarious intent only made Ferdinand ache more. 

He stroked himself hard and fast, not even bothering to push his trousers down, and he tried his best not to make a sound. Part of him was sure Hubert was still outside. 

He knew his body well enough to get himself to where he wanted to be quickly, and the closer he got to release, the harder it became to stay quiet. When he felt himself starting to leak, he swallowed a whimper, thoughtlessly sucking his lower lip into his mouth, only to freeze. 

The sharp, bitter taste was more than enough to startle him out of his desperate stupor and he jumped up, running to his basin to spit into it repeatedly, trying to get rid of the taste of the flower.

Of course, once he'd stopped panicking he reminded himself that there was absolutely no risk in such a small dose, but he'd gotten caught up in the perceived danger of Hubert toying with him. 

Spinning around to stare at the door again, he flushed, as if Hubert could somehow see him, see what a fool he'd made of himself. 

One thing he knew for certain. 

He was never getting a gift for Hubert Von Vestra again.