[That’s right, Hubert is blushing, the pale pink across his cheeks so very stark against his skin. But even that isn't nearly enough to dispel the reply that comes, twisting a bit wry from his mouth, nor is it enough for him to banish his eyes away from Ferdinand’s face. Grasping onto control in any way he can, as ever.]
You would say such a thing.
[Ferdinand sees all the work they’ve done, the victory they’ve earned, and the right they have to lay claim to joy. And Hubert, he sees a thousand more moving parts now under Edelgard’s revolutionary reign; a thousand more potential enemies that may lurk in the shadows, so many meetings that burst with political maneuvering, small skirmishes of lingering unrest spotted across various territories that they must tend to. Countless little embers to stamp out before they spark into unwanted immolations.
He sees work. So much more of it, an endless flow. And he thinks Ferdinand should be quite aware of this reality, as well. The two of them see it best from their positions — Ferdinand advising the Emperor over one shoulder, while Hubert stands at the other.]
Then tell me, when will there be time for such a thing to even take shape? Perhaps the lamplight from last night’s ball has blinded you, Ferdinand, but do recall that our responsibilities have not come to a halt just because the war’s ended. The most we spend in each other’s company is when there is official work to be done, and if the best we can manage is hovering in each other’s periphery, both mentally and physically distracted, I wonder if it should be worth it at all.
[His duty, as ever, is to Her Majesty. If he cannot account for how to wrap something else around that, perhaps it is not to be considered at all. He wonders if his friend realizes this, or speaks so impulsively from the heart that he has not considered the long-term.]
no subject
You would say such a thing.
[Ferdinand sees all the work they’ve done, the victory they’ve earned, and the right they have to lay claim to joy. And Hubert, he sees a thousand more moving parts now under Edelgard’s revolutionary reign; a thousand more potential enemies that may lurk in the shadows, so many meetings that burst with political maneuvering, small skirmishes of lingering unrest spotted across various territories that they must tend to. Countless little embers to stamp out before they spark into unwanted immolations.
He sees work. So much more of it, an endless flow. And he thinks Ferdinand should be quite aware of this reality, as well. The two of them see it best from their positions — Ferdinand advising the Emperor over one shoulder, while Hubert stands at the other.]
Then tell me, when will there be time for such a thing to even take shape? Perhaps the lamplight from last night’s ball has blinded you, Ferdinand, but do recall that our responsibilities have not come to a halt just because the war’s ended. The most we spend in each other’s company is when there is official work to be done, and if the best we can manage is hovering in each other’s periphery, both mentally and physically distracted, I wonder if it should be worth it at all.
[His duty, as ever, is to Her Majesty. If he cannot account for how to wrap something else around that, perhaps it is not to be considered at all. He wonders if his friend realizes this, or speaks so impulsively from the heart that he has not considered the long-term.]