[He couldn't have missed it. That quietly violent sudden absence of something, that immediate sense of loss carving out a hollow... somewhere. The Bonds were always odd, a sixth sense his body never knew how to properly process, and the improper dissolution of one from an individual falling back through the Mirrors was just as odd in ways Hubert couldn't describe.]
[It hurt, but not actually. He was whole, but something was horribly missing. Regardless of the disarray it left him in, the feeling (or lack thereof) only meant one thing, and after a too-long moment to gather himself, Hubert set his cup down and stood to wander upstairs.]
[Edelgard had told him when she wrote the letter. He'd have to sort out her council matters and her investments, but that could come later. For now...]
[Another breath to steady himself against that phantom pain of something missing from his soul, and Hubert steadily knocks thrice at Leslie's door.]
[For Leslie, whose bonds with the people of the household are entirely non-magical, today is nothing but an ordinary day so far.]
[Before the knock on the door, she was studying a book that Byleth had assigned to her (mathematics is one of the few subjects that Leslie is a little behind what might be expected for her age, but that can be chalked up to being several years behind that expectation before Aefenglom). Her somewhat finicky white kitten -- now a cat, really -- is settled on a book that Leslie may have been reading earlier before it had been claimed for kittybutt.]
[At the sound of the knock, she sets down the pen she's been using to take notes on some parchment.]
I'm coming! [Her voice is much more upbeat than anything else in this house right now.]
[She doesn't waste any time hopping down from her chair and scampering over to open the door. Seeing Hubert there, she initially smiles.]
Hello, Marquis Vestra. What -- [It's at this point that Leslie notices that Hubert looks more dour than usual. Her smile fades a little as her expression moves to worry.] -- is it?
[Leslie looked so happy, initially. It almost felt like he ought to apologize for how he was about to ruin her night—he next many nights. His hand returns behind his back to join the other with the folded letter.]
Good evening, Leslie. [A breath.] Might I enter?
[She already seems to have picked up something from him. Even if she hadn't, this was odd enough to alert her to something.]
[There's a moment before she replies. It's not that she hesitates at all to agree to let him in, but if she had doubt before that something was off, it's gone now.]
[(Her mind conjures up that night when Lady Edelgard had...finished becoming a vampire. He'd appeared in her room with no warning, thrust some instructions at her, and disappeared again without explanation.)]
[(She thinks -- or, at least, she hopes, because Leslie still worries about claiming a relationship one-sidedly -- that they've become closer since then, but she thinks that he would still eschew this kind of polite request if it was an emergency.)]
[It's only a couple of seconds before she gives herself a little shake and answers.]
Of course. Come in.
[She steps aside, still holding the door open for him like a gentleman.]
Please, sit. [Leslie will need to. Best to get it out of the way. Funny. Hubert has never hesitating in delivering bad news before, but it's a moment between the girl's compliance and him wordlessly and solemnly presenting the folded paper.]
[Perhaps it was careless for him to have not check, to not have scoured the city from top to bottom. But he knew. The absence of a year long, inescapable constant, and all it brought with it. He knew Edelgard's absence as surely as he knew her presence within the Bond.]
[Leslie doesn’t have enough experience with being asked to sit to prepare for bad news to recognize the reason. Is this going to be a long discussion, perhaps? Should she find him a seat, too?]
[But she hasn’t been sitting in her desk chair, turned to face outward, for very long before she receives the paper. She looks at him in a wordless question, unsure if she’s supposed to open it right now. Upon receiving permission, she unfolds it.]
[She only makes it about halfway into the first paragraph. There isn’t really a reaction at all on her face as she stops reading.]
[She’s thought of the possibility of Edelgard and Byleth returning to Fódlan before. Not deeply: it’s the kind of thought she wants to retreat from. But she knows it could happen to any of them.]
[Even so, now that it’s in front of her, her mind is refusing to understand it. The only real change from her already somewhat worried expression is a slightly more visible level of confusion.]
...Where did you find this?
[How could a letter know if Edelgard was gone? It isn’t like Edelgard could have written it after that happened, so it must have been somewhere in the house before this. The existence of the letter itself doesn’t mean anything, right?]
[(There’s no way someone as meticulous as Hubert would have given her this letter if he wasn’t certain what had happened to Edelgard. Certainly not in a matter that concerned Edelgard, the most important person in his life. She knows this, but she asks anyway.)]
[As he waits, no tension sits in Hubert. If anything, his shoulders are uncharacteristically lax even if his posture remains otherwise perfect, as if waiting for an inevitability.]
Her desk. Lady Edelgard wrote that as a contingency, should you outlast her time in this land, and informed me as she did. In the event I outlasted her time in this land, I was to deliver it to you.
[This all makes sense — or, rather, it makes sense to her in the abstract. She is struggling to make the obvious inference from this statement.]
But...I saw her this morning.
[They’d passed each other as one was beginning her day and the other finishing her night. Leslie had trouble falling asleep the night before, her mind busy with some bit of theory she was having trouble with, so she slept in and was still quite groggy. The encounter had been short and unremarkable as Edelgard shooed the sleepy Leslie towards breakfast.]
[That can’t have been the last time she would ever see the woman who has been like a mother to her.]
Aren’t you being a little hasty to — to give me this letter? Maybe Lady Edelgard woke up early and went to see — to see —
[The list of names Leslie knows of people that Edelgard might leave the house to go visit on a whim has grown much shorter over the past few months. She isn’t able to come up with one on the spot as she looks for a way to deny what is being laid out in front of her.]
[Denial. Tenuous hope. Impending despair. How often had Hubert seen that during the war, in the eyes of his soldiers' families? In the eyes of his soldiers themselves? Nothing could soften that blow.]
Our Bond is gone, Leslie.
[He regretted he had to inform her of something so cruel, but delaying it would do no good.]
[The start of the question has already left her mouth before she thinks of a possible reason why the Bond could have broken other than Edelgard leaving in one way or another.]
[She could find a reason. A couple of them come to mind as soon as she hesitates. But she knows those possibilities and any others would be incredibly remote.]
[She has to face the truth: Edelgard is gone and Leslie will never see her again. Though she knew it would happen one day, the news still shocks her, her face going white and her eyes growing a little unfocused as she stares at nothing.]
[Her eyes soon refocus. She’s still very pale and her expression is still slack, her shock still clearly having not quite passed yet into actually processing the information. But there’s another side to that information Hubert gave her.]
...Are you going to be okay? Your magic, or, um. Emotionally?
[Hubert will see Edelgard again one day, but right now, he just lost a Bond. Though it’s more from hearing the theory than any personal experience, Leslie knows that the loss of a Bond is hard, and harder still when the two are as close as Hubert and Edelgard were — are.]
[Her reactions were impossible to miss, and it's enough to tug the corners of Hubert's mouth further down. He felt for her. It was a familiar thing, that keenness of loss in youth, and no one should have to experience it.]
Do not concern yourself with me, [Hubert offers mildly, gently, and two gloved fingers touch feather-light on one of Leslie's wrist, trying to draw her attention back down.]
I understand this is difficult, but I implore you to keep reading, Leslie. Lady Edelgard left important words for you.
[Leslie can’t agree with the idea that she shouldn’t concern herself with someone she likes as much as Hubert, but she can’t say anything about it in the face of his request that she read Edelgard’s words. The last words she’ll ever receive from her. She glances down to where Hubert’s touch reminds her where the letter is held right now.]
[It is difficult, though, which is why Leslie takes a few seconds before she finds her voice.]
Okay.
[As she looks back to the letter, her eyes move along the lines slowly but mostly steadily. By the third paragraph, her grip on the letter tightens, resulting in some wrinkles that she will regret when she realizes it.]
[(Later, she will try to smooth the wrinkles out again so that she will be able to preserve it as best as she can, but right now, she doesn’t even notice.)]
[She’s begun to sniffle once, twice through the fourth paragraph, but it’s the fifth where her eyes stop moving, stopped on three words. Leslie von Hresvelg.]
[Though no one has asked her surname here or even commented on how she only uses Leslie, she knows that, legally, her names ties her to a family that is truly evil. Does anyone in all of Aefenglom know of the Sperado name other than the few Leslie has told herself? No, but she knows. Does everyone in her own world who cares for her think of her adoption of a new surname as a fait accompli? Yes, but Leslie takes few things for granted. That slender chain still attaching her to the people who gave birth to her has remained a small but unrelenting weight on her heart.]
[A name she would never have even imagined asking for has now replaced that chain with a link to a woman she admires to an extreme level but will never see again. It’s an unbelievable lightening of her load, but it’s also what starts tears flowing in earnest. Something she only notices when a tear drips from her face onto the bottom of the letter.]
[Realizing what is happening, she drops the hand still holding the letter to her side and brings her opposite arm up to scrub at her eyes.]
Sorry. I’m sorry. I only need — only a minute.
[Getting her crying under control enough to continue reading without staining the paper will take more than one minute, though not much longer than that even if left to sort through it on her own, as she hiccups her way through suppressed sobs attempting to join the tears.]
['Difficult' might have been understating it. He'd been vaguely aware of the content of the letter from Edelgard's own account—and how he wished the two of them could have this conversation themselves, instead of by proxy. It would've meant the world to them both.]
[Instead, Hubert only brought her grief. His jaw tightens as Leslie works her way through the letter. She'll cry for both of them, give voice the screaming void of loss in the back of his head.]
You owe me no apology of any sort. Take as long as you need.
[Hubert makes no other move, content to wait where he stands while Leslie processes everything, the good and the bad.]
[If they could have had a day — or even an hour — of warning before a person returns through their mirror, the conversation could have happened. Leslie could have shared her own things she wanted Edelgard to know. But they don’t get that chance.]
[It’s not as if they haven’t spoken of serious and personal topics before, from time to time, but Leslie chose to ignore the inevitability of such a sudden parting and pretended she still had more time to express everything she needed to. And now she doesn’t.]
[She nods a few times, somewhat quickly, in response to Hubert’s words. It’s easier than using words right now.]
[When her tears have slowed enough that she can read again, Leslie finishes the letter. Another sob escapes when she reads Grow well, Leslie. and, upon finishing the letter, she hides as much of her face as she can with one hand to cover renewed tears.]
Lady Edelgard.... [Her voice is cracking.]
[The renewed tears don’t last as long, though even when she removes her hand and looks up at Hubert, it’s clear that this will certainly not be the last time she cries today.]
She’s...going to be okay, back there, isn’t she? She’ll be safe? And she’ll be happy? She said that the war is over, in her — in your world, but...she didn’t talk much about that time.
[She’s pieced together some idea of what kind of life Edelgard lived for the last few years before Aefenglom, but she really has a very limited grasp of what happened to Edelgard since she left the school.]
[When Edelgard was here, it was easier to accept the vague concept that things were okay now. With Edelgard now returned to that time and place, Leslie finds herself wanting reassurance that it is indeed as fine as she has been told.]
[...normally, Hubert never had an issue watching others cry. Sympathy or empathy at best. Today, he sucks in a quiet breath and closes his own eyes.]
[A return to their worlds wasn't the same as death, even if the Bond tried to make it seem so. But from their perspective, this unbridgeable separation might as well have been. He'd watched Edelgard die twice—once literally—and return from both... was it selfish to wish for her return? Hadn't his entire goal been to return them to Fódlan, where their dawn was beginning?]
[When he opens his eyes to find teary Leslie staring up at him, Hubert's hands tighten behind his back again. Did Edelgard ever tell the girl about her Crests-borne health? Would her vampirism remain and protect her from that looming mortality?]
Of course. I've met none other more competent than Lady Edelgard. The war may be over, and though her challenges are not, she will be surrounded by many able to support and protect her.
[But not me follows the words sharply in his thoughts, his gloves creaking quietly. The continental war was done, but his against the shadows hadn't started, and the most he could do was hope someone would take it up in his stead. Leslie didn't need to know that.]
[If there is ever the possibility of Leslie seeing the tension in Hubert’s body when he chooses to hold in his feelings, it wouldn’t be through teary eyes. Especially not when he tries to keep it confined to where she can’t see behind his back.]
[Even her understanding that he must be suffering has been pushed aside by her own grief. She will remember it later, but she has briefly forgotten the consideration she attempted to show him before she read the letter. Though she’s spent most of her life not knowing any adults worth relying on, she’s learned over almost a full year the child’s privilege of turning to an adult who seems emotionally invincible for comfort.]
That’s right. The people around Lady Edelgard — everything I’ve heard and seen proves that she’s surrounded by reliable companions.
[In an unknowing mirroring of Hubert’s own hands, she clasps her hands together tightly, though her own are in front of herself. She lowers her gaze a little.]
I’m happy for her. That she got to return.
[Despite the words she chooses, she sounds miserable.]
This was inevitable. [Maybe that wasn't the gentlest thing to say, but Hubert's pragmatism felt it important to note.]
Our nature as Mirrorbound make our presence inherently fleeting. You know that Lady Edelgard would not leave you suddenly if it were in her power—she loved you.
[A shake of his head.] There is no fault in grieving the loss of someone so brief, but so dear to you, or the words you never had a chance to say. Learn from it, like everything else. Even in your own world, the truth is that others will not be around forever. Treasure them.
Hubert takes another quiet breath, and uncharacteristically his gaze flicks aside before returning to Leslie.]
....I also understand that you reside here under Lady Edelgard's invitation. I... am a poor substitute as a guardian, but should you still feel comfortable residing here, you are welcome to.
[Maybe a bit of gentleness would have been nice. A hug and some comforting words, perhaps. Such things would be unexpected from Hubert, but while she wouldn't reject an unexpected act like that from him, Leslie appreciates Hubert for who he is. Perhaps ironically for a man whose job is subterfuge, she doesn't think he will ever lie to her (short of it advancing Lady Edelgard's interests).]
[It's that trust that makes her press her mouth shut tightly to keep from bursting into tears when he says, "she loved you." Of course she knows it already. If she ever had any doubts, the letter would have dispelled them all. But hearing it said out loud after reading this letter made it real all over again.]
[On the whole, though, she appreciates it being framed as something to work on. Something to focus her thoughts on that is still here. She nods silently.]
[When he starts to address the matter of living there, Leslie's eyes go wide and she looks scared for a brief moment. She might trust him to always tell her the truth, it seems that she thought he was about to tell her that now that the person who invited her was no longer here, she was no longer welcome.]
[It soon becomes clear what he actually means and her fear passes, but there's still a hint of desperation in her expression as she answers.]
No -- I mean, yes! I want to stay here! With you! Please.
[It might not have been a surprise that Leslie would want to stay, but the force of her affirmation is. After a shocked beat, Hubert nods, forcing his hand to fold over his heart and bow in acceptance.]
Very well. You are welcome as long as you wish to be. Lady Edelgard need not be here for you to continue being her ward.
[After all, she'd offer the girl her name. But it's a rote offering; this last year had brought Hubert and Leslie closer on their own terms... even if he would continue to lay credit at Edelgard's feet at every opportunity.]
[Straightening, tucking his hands behind his back once more, he finds himself at a bit of a loss for words. He never did console much, and his own state did not contribute. What now?] I... regret to have upset you this evening.
[His regret is likely not helped by the way she rubs her eyes for a few seconds after he says how she’s still Edelgard’s ward. It’s something she is happy to hear and a ghost of a smile briefly passes over her face from relief that she is still welcome. But her feelings are raw enough that something like that risks restarting her crying in earnest.]
[She has her still watery eyes back under control by the time he attempts a comfort. She appears to not understand why he said that.]
But I would have discovered her absence eventually. What else would you have wanted to do aside from telling me and giving me this letter?
[She seems to have taken “regret” a little too literally.]
And you weren’t what sent — [She swallows and her voice is quieter when she continues.] — what sent Lady Edelgard away. Telling me isn’t what upset me.
...a turn of phrase, I suppose. I would have rather not have to deliver this news at all. [Edelgard should be telling her this. Edelgard should be offering her name. Edelgard should...]
[Hubert inhales and forces his posture straighter where it had subtly slipped throughout the conversation. Useless thoughts. Edelgard was not here; there was nothing more to be done about that.]
My apologies. I'm normally the last one to be caught up in the pretend. Is there anything you need, Leslie?
[This shifting in posture and unexpected apology is enough to remind Leslie that Hubert is feeling this loss as well. But she can’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t be just a turn of phrase, either, and she isn’t even sure if Hubert would be willing to accept any offers to help him when he told her not to concern herself with him.]
[Maybe she can think of ways to quietly ease some of his burdens, she thinks, not realizing that she is a novice standing before the master in this.]
[She shakes her head at his apology, stopping before he asks the question.]
You don’t have to apologize. I understand. [As for the question,] ...Something I need....
[The first thought that crosses her mind is Edelgard being returned, but even if that weren’t beyond even Hubert’s abilities (she believes him capable of making most possible things happen by one way or another if he thinks it would be good for Lady Edelgard), she doesn’t think she could ask for something that selfish.]
[Not wanting to express this thought, she breaks eye contact with Hubert. As she glances away, her eyes catch the sight of the letter where she’d set it down to avoid any further damage to it from either teardrops or a tight grip. An idea that is a little less impossible comes to mind.]
Um. [She doesn’t look away from the letter as she answers.] If I were to write an answer to Lady Edelgard’s letter, and I read it to you...if you were to remember your time here when you make it back to Fódlan, would you tell her what it said?
[He waits, wondering for a brief moment after Leslie breaks her gaze away if his continued presence was beginning to make her uncomfortable. But a response? That admittedly hadn't crossed his mind. Hubert doesn't hesitate to nod.]
Of course. I'll do everything in my power to deliver the message.
[...Whatever power that was, subject to the whims of fate as Mirrorbound were. But if anyone could find a way to try, he could.]
[Leslie is aware that there is no way to know how possible this is to succeed. She’s heard rumours and theories about how things might be for a Mirrorbound when they return to their world, but no one really understands what the mirrors can or will do.]
[Even so, Hubert’s words bring some small relief into the mess of emotions currently swirling inside her. When she meets his gaze again, she gives him a shaky, small, but genuine smile.]
Thank you. [But with everything going on, she can’t maintain the smile for long.] It might take me some time to write it, or decide what I need to say, or things like that, but I will tell you when I have written it.
[She fiddles her thumbs a little in her clasped hands, feeling a little awkward (among the many, many other feelings). Though she expects he will not give an answer to his own question, she wants to ask:]
Is there....
[If she asks him as Marquis Vestra, she wonders if that formal distance might give him even more reason to deflect, so for once, she changes the way she addresses him deliberately.]
[It's the best acknowledgement Hubert could give. He didn't have the luxury to tell Leslie to "take her time" or "I'll be here." The recent disappearances were a stark reminder that he very well might not be.]
[But being called Hubert catches him slightly off guard; he blinks, and doesn't respond immediately.]
[What was there to say but "let me go with them?" What was in their power to do, and what could even be done about it? The girl just lost a mother. Selfish wishes should not be her burden.]
[So Hubert ultimately shakes his head.] I will manage. [Somehow.] You needn't be concerned with me, though I appreciate your consideration.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
You know what and when
[It hurt, but not actually. He was whole, but something was horribly missing. Regardless of the disarray it left him in, the feeling (or lack thereof) only meant one thing, and after a too-long moment to gather himself, Hubert set his cup down and stood to wander upstairs.]
[Edelgard had told him when she wrote the letter. He'd have to sort out her council matters and her investments, but that could come later. For now...]
[Another breath to steady himself against that phantom pain of something missing from his soul, and Hubert steadily knocks thrice at Leslie's door.]
screams
[Before the knock on the door, she was studying a book that Byleth had assigned to her (mathematics is one of the few subjects that Leslie is a little behind what might be expected for her age, but that can be chalked up to being several years behind that expectation before Aefenglom). Her somewhat finicky white kitten -- now a cat, really -- is settled on a book that Leslie may have been reading earlier before it had been claimed for kittybutt.]
[At the sound of the knock, she sets down the pen she's been using to take notes on some parchment.]
I'm coming! [Her voice is much more upbeat than anything else in this house right now.]
[She doesn't waste any time hopping down from her chair and scampering over to open the door. Seeing Hubert there, she initially smiles.]
Hello, Marquis Vestra. What -- [It's at this point that Leslie notices that Hubert looks more dour than usual. Her smile fades a little as her expression moves to worry.] -- is it?
also screams
Good evening, Leslie. [A breath.] Might I enter?
[She already seems to have picked up something from him. Even if she hadn't, this was odd enough to alert her to something.]
no subject
[(Her mind conjures up that night when Lady Edelgard had...finished becoming a vampire. He'd appeared in her room with no warning, thrust some instructions at her, and disappeared again without explanation.)]
[(She thinks -- or, at least, she hopes, because Leslie still worries about claiming a relationship one-sidedly -- that they've become closer since then, but she thinks that he would still eschew this kind of polite request if it was an emergency.)]
[It's only a couple of seconds before she gives herself a little shake and answers.]
Of course. Come in.
[She steps aside, still holding the door open for him
like a gentleman.]no subject
Please, sit. [Leslie will need to. Best to get it out of the way. Funny. Hubert has never hesitating in delivering bad news before, but it's a moment between the girl's compliance and him wordlessly and solemnly presenting the folded paper.]
[Perhaps it was careless for him to have not check, to not have scoured the city from top to bottom. But he knew. The absence of a year long, inescapable constant, and all it brought with it. He knew Edelgard's absence as surely as he knew her presence within the Bond.]
no subject
[But she hasn’t been sitting in her desk chair, turned to face outward, for very long before she receives the paper. She looks at him in a wordless question, unsure if she’s supposed to open it right now. Upon receiving permission, she unfolds it.]
[She only makes it about halfway into the first paragraph. There isn’t really a reaction at all on her face as she stops reading.]
[She’s thought of the possibility of Edelgard and Byleth returning to Fódlan before. Not deeply: it’s the kind of thought she wants to retreat from. But she knows it could happen to any of them.]
[Even so, now that it’s in front of her, her mind is refusing to understand it. The only real change from her already somewhat worried expression is a slightly more visible level of confusion.]
...Where did you find this?
[How could a letter know if Edelgard was gone? It isn’t like Edelgard could have written it after that happened, so it must have been somewhere in the house before this. The existence of the letter itself doesn’t mean anything, right?]
[(There’s no way someone as meticulous as Hubert would have given her this letter if he wasn’t certain what had happened to Edelgard. Certainly not in a matter that concerned Edelgard, the most important person in his life. She knows this, but she asks anyway.)]
no subject
Her desk. Lady Edelgard wrote that as a contingency, should you outlast her time in this land, and informed me as she did. In the event I outlasted her time in this land, I was to deliver it to you.
no subject
But...I saw her this morning.
[They’d passed each other as one was beginning her day and the other finishing her night. Leslie had trouble falling asleep the night before, her mind busy with some bit of theory she was having trouble with, so she slept in and was still quite groggy. The encounter had been short and unremarkable as Edelgard shooed the sleepy Leslie towards breakfast.]
[That can’t have been the last time she would ever see the woman who has been like a mother to her.]
Aren’t you being a little hasty to — to give me this letter? Maybe Lady Edelgard woke up early and went to see — to see —
[The list of names Leslie knows of people that Edelgard might leave the house to go visit on a whim has grown much shorter over the past few months. She isn’t able to come up with one on the spot as she looks for a way to deny what is being laid out in front of her.]
no subject
Our Bond is gone, Leslie.
[He regretted he had to inform her of something so cruel, but delaying it would do no good.]
no subject
[The start of the question has already left her mouth before she thinks of a possible reason why the Bond could have broken other than Edelgard leaving in one way or another.]
[She could find a reason. A couple of them come to mind as soon as she hesitates. But she knows those possibilities and any others would be incredibly remote.]
[She has to face the truth: Edelgard is gone and Leslie will never see her again. Though she knew it would happen one day, the news still shocks her, her face going white and her eyes growing a little unfocused as she stares at nothing.]
[Her eyes soon refocus. She’s still very pale and her expression is still slack, her shock still clearly having not quite passed yet into actually processing the information. But there’s another side to that information Hubert gave her.]
...Are you going to be okay? Your magic, or, um. Emotionally?
[Hubert will see Edelgard again one day, but right now, he just lost a Bond. Though it’s more from hearing the theory than any personal experience, Leslie knows that the loss of a Bond is hard, and harder still when the two are as close as Hubert and Edelgard were — are.]
no subject
Do not concern yourself with me, [Hubert offers mildly, gently, and two gloved fingers touch feather-light on one of Leslie's wrist, trying to draw her attention back down.]
I understand this is difficult, but I implore you to keep reading, Leslie. Lady Edelgard left important words for you.
no subject
[It is difficult, though, which is why Leslie takes a few seconds before she finds her voice.]
Okay.
[As she looks back to the letter, her eyes move along the lines slowly but mostly steadily. By the third paragraph, her grip on the letter tightens, resulting in some wrinkles that she will regret when she realizes it.]
[(Later, she will try to smooth the wrinkles out again so that she will be able to preserve it as best as she can, but right now, she doesn’t even notice.)]
[She’s begun to sniffle once, twice through the fourth paragraph, but it’s the fifth where her eyes stop moving, stopped on three words. Leslie von Hresvelg.]
[Though no one has asked her surname here or even commented on how she only uses Leslie, she knows that, legally, her names ties her to a family that is truly evil. Does anyone in all of Aefenglom know of the Sperado name other than the few Leslie has told herself? No, but she knows. Does everyone in her own world who cares for her think of her adoption of a new surname as a fait accompli? Yes, but Leslie takes few things for granted. That slender chain still attaching her to the people who gave birth to her has remained a small but unrelenting weight on her heart.]
[A name she would never have even imagined asking for has now replaced that chain with a link to a woman she admires to an extreme level but will never see again. It’s an unbelievable lightening of her load, but it’s also what starts tears flowing in earnest. Something she only notices when a tear drips from her face onto the bottom of the letter.]
[Realizing what is happening, she drops the hand still holding the letter to her side and brings her opposite arm up to scrub at her eyes.]
Sorry. I’m sorry. I only need — only a minute.
[Getting her crying under control enough to continue reading without staining the paper will take more than one minute, though not much longer than that even if left to sort through it on her own, as she hiccups her way through suppressed sobs attempting to join the tears.]
no subject
[Instead, Hubert only brought her grief. His jaw tightens as Leslie works her way through the letter. She'll cry for both of them, give voice the screaming void of loss in the back of his head.]
You owe me no apology of any sort. Take as long as you need.
[Hubert makes no other move, content to wait where he stands while Leslie processes everything, the good and the bad.]
no subject
[It’s not as if they haven’t spoken of serious and personal topics before, from time to time, but Leslie chose to ignore the inevitability of such a sudden parting and pretended she still had more time to express everything she needed to. And now she doesn’t.]
[She nods a few times, somewhat quickly, in response to Hubert’s words. It’s easier than using words right now.]
[When her tears have slowed enough that she can read again, Leslie finishes the letter. Another sob escapes when she reads Grow well, Leslie. and, upon finishing the letter, she hides as much of her face as she can with one hand to cover renewed tears.]
Lady Edelgard.... [Her voice is cracking.]
[The renewed tears don’t last as long, though even when she removes her hand and looks up at Hubert, it’s clear that this will certainly not be the last time she cries today.]
She’s...going to be okay, back there, isn’t she? She’ll be safe? And she’ll be happy? She said that the war is over, in her — in your world, but...she didn’t talk much about that time.
[She’s pieced together some idea of what kind of life Edelgard lived for the last few years before Aefenglom, but she really has a very limited grasp of what happened to Edelgard since she left the school.]
[When Edelgard was here, it was easier to accept the vague concept that things were okay now. With Edelgard now returned to that time and place, Leslie finds herself wanting reassurance that it is indeed as fine as she has been told.]
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[A return to their worlds wasn't the same as death, even if the Bond tried to make it seem so. But from their perspective, this unbridgeable separation might as well have been. He'd watched Edelgard die twice—once literally—and return from both... was it selfish to wish for her return? Hadn't his entire goal been to return them to Fódlan, where their dawn was beginning?]
[When he opens his eyes to find teary Leslie staring up at him, Hubert's hands tighten behind his back again. Did Edelgard ever tell the girl about her Crests-borne health? Would her vampirism remain and protect her from that looming mortality?]
Of course. I've met none other more competent than Lady Edelgard. The war may be over, and though her challenges are not, she will be surrounded by many able to support and protect her.
[But not me follows the words sharply in his thoughts, his gloves creaking quietly. The continental war was done, but his against the shadows hadn't started, and the most he could do was hope someone would take it up in his stead. Leslie didn't need to know that.]
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[Even her understanding that he must be suffering has been pushed aside by her own grief. She will remember it later, but she has briefly forgotten the consideration she attempted to show him before she read the letter. Though she’s spent most of her life not knowing any adults worth relying on, she’s learned over almost a full year the child’s privilege of turning to an adult who seems emotionally invincible for comfort.]
That’s right. The people around Lady Edelgard — everything I’ve heard and seen proves that she’s surrounded by reliable companions.
[In an unknowing mirroring of Hubert’s own hands, she clasps her hands together tightly, though her own are in front of herself. She lowers her gaze a little.]
I’m happy for her. That she got to return.
[Despite the words she chooses, she sounds miserable.]
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Our nature as Mirrorbound make our presence inherently fleeting. You know that Lady Edelgard would not leave you suddenly if it were in her power—she loved you.
[A shake of his head.] There is no fault in grieving the loss of someone so brief, but so dear to you, or the words you never had a chance to say. Learn from it, like everything else. Even in your own world, the truth is that others will not be around forever. Treasure them.
Hubert takes another quiet breath, and uncharacteristically his gaze flicks aside before returning to Leslie.]
....I also understand that you reside here under Lady Edelgard's invitation. I... am a poor substitute as a guardian, but should you still feel comfortable residing here, you are welcome to.
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[It's that trust that makes her press her mouth shut tightly to keep from bursting into tears when he says, "she loved you." Of course she knows it already. If she ever had any doubts, the letter would have dispelled them all. But hearing it said out loud after reading this letter made it real all over again.]
[On the whole, though, she appreciates it being framed as something to work on. Something to focus her thoughts on that is still here. She nods silently.]
[When he starts to address the matter of living there, Leslie's eyes go wide and she looks scared for a brief moment. She might trust him to always tell her the truth, it seems that she thought he was about to tell her that now that the person who invited her was no longer here, she was no longer welcome.]
[It soon becomes clear what he actually means and her fear passes, but there's still a hint of desperation in her expression as she answers.]
No -- I mean, yes! I want to stay here! With you! Please.
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Very well. You are welcome as long as you wish to be. Lady Edelgard need not be here for you to continue being her ward.
[After all, she'd offer the girl her name. But it's a rote offering; this last year had brought Hubert and Leslie closer on their own terms... even if he would continue to lay credit at Edelgard's feet at every opportunity.]
[Straightening, tucking his hands behind his back once more, he finds himself at a bit of a loss for words. He never did console much, and his own state did not contribute. What now?] I... regret to have upset you this evening.
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[She has her still watery eyes back under control by the time he attempts a comfort. She appears to not understand why he said that.]
But I would have discovered her absence eventually. What else would you have wanted to do aside from telling me and giving me this letter?
[She seems to have taken “regret” a little too literally.]
And you weren’t what sent — [She swallows and her voice is quieter when she continues.] — what sent Lady Edelgard away. Telling me isn’t what upset me.
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[Hubert inhales and forces his posture straighter where it had subtly slipped throughout the conversation. Useless thoughts. Edelgard was not here; there was nothing more to be done about that.]
My apologies. I'm normally the last one to be caught up in the pretend. Is there anything you need, Leslie?
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[Maybe she can think of ways to quietly ease some of his burdens, she thinks, not realizing that she is a novice standing before the master in this.]
[She shakes her head at his apology, stopping before he asks the question.]
You don’t have to apologize. I understand. [As for the question,] ...Something I need....
[The first thought that crosses her mind is Edelgard being returned, but even if that weren’t beyond even Hubert’s abilities (she believes him capable of making most possible things happen by one way or another if he thinks it would be good for Lady Edelgard), she doesn’t think she could ask for something that selfish.]
[Not wanting to express this thought, she breaks eye contact with Hubert. As she glances away, her eyes catch the sight of the letter where she’d set it down to avoid any further damage to it from either teardrops or a tight grip. An idea that is a little less impossible comes to mind.]
Um. [She doesn’t look away from the letter as she answers.] If I were to write an answer to Lady Edelgard’s letter, and I read it to you...if you were to remember your time here when you make it back to Fódlan, would you tell her what it said?
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Of course. I'll do everything in my power to deliver the message.
[...Whatever power that was, subject to the whims of fate as Mirrorbound were. But if anyone could find a way to try, he could.]
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[Even so, Hubert’s words bring some small relief into the mess of emotions currently swirling inside her. When she meets his gaze again, she gives him a shaky, small, but genuine smile.]
Thank you. [But with everything going on, she can’t maintain the smile for long.] It might take me some time to write it, or decide what I need to say, or things like that, but I will tell you when I have written it.
[She fiddles her thumbs a little in her clasped hands, feeling a little awkward (among the many, many other feelings). Though she expects he will not give an answer to his own question, she wants to ask:]
Is there....
[If she asks him as Marquis Vestra, she wonders if that formal distance might give him even more reason to deflect, so for once, she changes the way she addresses him deliberately.]
Is there anything you need, Hubert?
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[It's the best acknowledgement Hubert could give. He didn't have the luxury to tell Leslie to "take her time" or "I'll be here." The recent disappearances were a stark reminder that he very well might not be.]
[But being called Hubert catches him slightly off guard; he blinks, and doesn't respond immediately.]
[What was there to say but "let me go with them?" What was in their power to do, and what could even be done about it? The girl just lost a mother. Selfish wishes should not be her burden.]
[So Hubert ultimately shakes his head.] I will manage. [Somehow.] You needn't be concerned with me, though I appreciate your consideration.
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