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Blood stained the grass.
Screaming, cries of pain and victory, and corpses littering the battlefield.
Linhardt shook and tried to hold back his nausea and tears as he dealt a final blow on the archer in front of him, seeing the soldier scream as he was engulfed in flames, his flesh burning and that blood, goddess, that horrible, curtled, boiling blood dripping to the ground as he fell.
Linhardt shook his head as he breathed the tobacco deeply from his pipe and felt the smoke curl around his lungs, calming his body temporarily as he continued to scrawl away at his notes to fend off the memory of the last battle. He hated this war, he hated fighting. Why was it that he couldn’t even continue his crest research without the purpose of the crests and their application on the battlefield torturing his every thought? This was so much easier before he had to see crests used firsthand.
He took another deep hit from his pipe to calm his nerves further before continuing his busy notes. He didn’t even notice Caspar had entered the library until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and sharply turning around to see what has caused the sudden interruption, calming when he saw the worried face of his best friend.
“Oh, it’s just you,” Linhardt breathed as he turned back to his pipe.
“Sorry for scaring you,” Caspar chuckled, taking a seat next to him. “How are you doing?”
“I’m finishing up my notes on the connections between the 10 elite crests.”
“I didn’t ask what you were doing. You know i’ll never understand all that academic stuff anyway.” Linhardt breathed out a laugh in response, taking another hit from the mahogany pipe, causing Caspar to frown. “I hate that you smoke that.” he declared suddenly.
Linhardt sighed in response. “We all need distractions. You enjoy fighting enough that you may not need one as intense, but we weren't all made to see blood and bodies everyday,” he said bluntly, “This helps me get my mind off it.”
“I don’t enjoy killing. It’s a bit hurtful that you see me in that light, honestly.”
“I know you don’t enjoy killing, but any proficiency for violence is a preferred trait to have during a war. You can’t deny you’re better at it than me.”
Caspar sighed, slouching and gently wrapping his arm around Linhardt’s waist to pull the other man into his side. Linhardt took another hit from his pipe and finished scrawling one last detail before closing the books around him and leaning into Caspar’s touch. Words weren’t always necessary between them anymore. Years of friendship, and even more years of fighting side by side, had made it much easier to know what the other was thinking without saying anything. But words still brought comfort, especially at times like these.
“I was surprised to find you here, I was sure you’d be asleep by now. It’s late.” Caspar finally said, breaking the silence that had been gently blanketing the room. Linhardt shook his head against Caspar’s shoulder.
“Sleeping has even gotten harder for me with all this going on. I still enjoy it, obviously, and prefer it to wakefulness, but after a battle like that it’s easier to relax by working on my research. Distractions deal with the pain better than shifting into my subconscious with nothing to cushion it.”
“Thus the pipe, as well? Distraction of the body while you distract your mind?”
Linhardt pointed at him without turning his body. “Precisely.” Caspar let out a breath of laughter.
“Well, you’re done with your notes, now, right? Let’s go to bed.” Linhardt sighed deeply before taking another deep hit from his pipe and slowly breathing out the smoke.
“I don’t know”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” The confession escaped Linhardt’s lips before he’d even decided if he wanted to reveal just how vulnerable he was to Caspar. Too late now, he thought with a wince. What a pain. Caspar pulled away from their embrace to look at him.
“Lin, you dodged my question before. Are you okay? Can you tell me what’s on your mind?” The concern in his friend’s voice, coupled with the intense gaze now piercing into him, caused Linhardt to turn his face in shame before responding.
“I don’t know if living the horrors once more out loud will provide very helpful to me” Linhardt half-joked cynically. “But it does help to have you here. You’re comforting, you always have been for me.” Once again, Linhardt didn’t recognize the gravity of his words until they’d already left his lips and he saw caspar flush red before him.
“Well in that case, is there anything else I can do for you? I hate seeing you like this, Lin.” Caspar’s hand ghosted over Linhardt’s own before pulling away quickly, almost making it possible to pretend that neither of them had noticed it.
“Just… keep talking to me. About anything.” Linhardt requested quietly. Caspar seemed to sense the embarrassed hesitation behind his words, because he immediately obliged, asking no more questions about Linhardt and shifting the subject to other gossip.
“I think Edelgard is in love with the professor.”
“Obviously,” Linhardt chuckled. “She was looking for her for years, and now she never leaves her side. No one values an educator that much." Caspar let out a full-on laugh at that, the warm, loud belly laugh that had always filled Linhardt’s chest with an extra degree of comfort. At hearing it, he subconsciously put down his pipe.
“Petra and Dorothea have seemed much closer recently too. It happened pretty slowly, but they basically both live in Petra’s room together now.”
“Now that you mention it, I have noticed that. Do you think they’re trying to hide it?”
“I doubt Dorothea would deny it if we asked her. They might just be trying to keep it low-key, in case.” The brief silence that followed that statement grew heavy quickly as they both sobered into the reality of what Caspar’s words meant. In case one of them was killed, they didn’t want to be officially devoted.
“Why all the talk of love?” Linhardt asked instead of admitting the stale sorrow that had settled into him, taking another hit from the pipe.
“I don’t know, I've been noticing it recently more I guess. I think everybody is seeking comfort, kind of like how you…” Caspar stopped and trailed off, stiffening at his own implication. It seemed to hit him as it came out of his mouth, and Linhardt swallowed roughly as he realized Caspar wasn’t just making wild accusations.
What was the difference between seeking your best friend’s comforting presence and seeking the physical and emotional comfort from a romantic partner during a traumatic time? It felt like such a fine line to Linhardt. The “just in case” scenario could have been the reason behind Linhardt’s demand to continue to call his affection for Caspar friendship, but even he was unsure. Just then, he remembered how uncomfortable silence had always made Caspar, noticing his bouncing knee, and sensing the gears turning in his head were readying an apology.
“You’re right,” Linhardt finally replied, causing Caspar’s head to snap back around to look at him quizzically. “I hardly think the labels of a relationship matter, but it’s very nice to be around someone who comforts you during these times.” Linhardt finished his statement, causing Caspar to physically relax, though continuing to look at Linhardt, this time with much softer eyes.
“Yeah. That’s how I feel, too.” His hand ghosted over Linhardt’s once more, less hesitant this time. Linhardt turned his palm upward and wrapped his fingers around Caspar’s, meeting him halfway. They both sighed at the contact, and both laughed at their sighs. Caspar gingerly leaned his forehead against Linhardt’s.
“I’ve been having haunting memories too. You’re my comfort as well, Linhardt.” Linhardt quietly noticed that he hadn’t even needed to tell Caspar about his troubling thoughts. He’d already known. And he’d been ready to provide comfort.
Neither of them slept that night. They continued talking in the library, seeking comfort, until the sun rose and the morning birdsongs probed through the cobblestone walls of the tower.