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It was a perfect day for looking at the clouds. Hubert lay completely motionless with his eyes on the sky as the fluffy white shapes passed him by. That one looked like, a pegasus? Hubert decided every cloud looked like a pegasus today. He wished Edelgard was here to see them too. She was inside the palace, not enjoying this pleasant Verdant Rain Moon afternoon.
Well, it would be perfect if his throat was not so dry. He had been laying here for, his mind trailed off at that thought. He had no idea how much time had passed as he waited to finally die. The armies invading Enbarr had not given him the gift of a quick death, they had let him have this slow and dragging one instead. At least he could watch the clouds as he waited to finally go.
Soon, but not yet. Hubert could hear the awful sounds coming from within the Imperial Palace. A metallic howl echoed from the massive doors that had been so indecorously ripped opened by the people come to put the Empire down for good. Give them hell, he thought since he could no longer form words. He took it at as a good sign that he couldn’t speak anymore. It meant he was finally fading.
Any moment now. He had failed to convince Edelgard to leave, and now he was stubbornly sticking around too. Hubert wasn’t ashamed that he had literally begged on his knees for her to go. Let him take the invasion, let her escape with Petra on a boat to a better place. A place without crests or blood experiments; a place where she might be free from all this pain. Really, let her be anywhere but here. Bring along Dorothea to sing of his sacrifice, but allow her to survive. These had been the only thing he’d ever asked for from the Emperor.
Edelgard denied him. She would see this through to the bitter end. Petra and Dorothea did not flee even as he went behind the Emperor’s back and told them she ordered the pair to go. They knew him well enough by now to know that he was lying. They thanked him all the same but, if he was staying, they were staying.
He watched Petra and Dorothea die in succession as he held the gates to the palace. The invaders crept ever closer until they were finally in range of his spells, though that meant he was in their range as well. How many meteors could one man drop? It turned out it was a high number, but in the end it did not matter. Now he lay impaled in the rubble of twisted iron flourishes and damaged marble. The sounds coming from the palace were getting quieter. There was less of Edelgard’s fury in the fray, and more of the people who’d overrun him.
Soon. He’d watch one or two more pegasus clouds drift across the sky and then he’d rest his eyes. He was used to fighting sleep though he was sure his eyelids had never felt this heavy. Hubert swore he could almost smell coffee in the air, freshly brewed and waiting for him just like Ferdinand used to make.
Ferdinand. Ferdinand had been dead for months, buried a country away beside that accursed bridge. Yet here he was with an outstretched hand.
Hubert hadn’t moved in, hours? Perhaps it was merely minutes. It was hard to tell with how quiet Enbarr had grown in these last few breaths. No more howls echoing from the palace, no more orders shouted from tacticians that were half as good as him. No more sound. Now.
Hubert found himself accepting Ferdinand’s invitation to get to his feet.
“Took you long enough,” said Ferdinand as they hugged each other.
The coffee smell was stronger as it subtly mixed with tones of fresh hay and oil for armor. There was a breath of new leather as Petra added herself to the hug, then a floral spritz of perfume as Dorothea’s arms joined in. A breeze of old books, Linhardt, and a sudden blast of musky sweat, Caspar. The light scent of freshly baked cookies as Bernadetta quietly crept in towards the middle. They were almost all here. Hubert sucked in a deep breath of all their smells, and waited for the refined waft of Bergamot to filter into the embrace. Soon.