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It was late when they arrived at the Oxbow inn, the only inn for 40 miles even outside the small town Mirfield in the Hrym region. Hubert had thought they might have to find some farmer’s hayloft to pass the night in, sneaking off again before they could be found but the inn was open late because of some regional celebration or other.
The innkeeper, a broad man in his 50s, looked over Hubert and Dorothea suspiciously, probably wondering why such a beautiful creature was in the company of a corpse-like cretin, and what they were doing this far out sans horses or carriage.
“We only have one room,” he said with a harsh finality.
Dorothea must have picked up on some thread that slipped past Hubert, for she weaved her arm through his and leaned against him. When she spoke, she adopted the regional twang, a feat that always impressed Hubert and made him consider recruiting more trained thespians to his spy corp. “Please, pay the man, darling. Before someone else steals it out from under us!” She turned her bright smile to the innkeeper. “It’s my fault we are stuck out here. I wanted to show my husband the land where I grew up but our carriage got stuck in the fen. We’re supposed to be celebrating three years together; he’s being so patient with me.”
The way Dorothea smiled up at him to sell her words made Hubert blush to his toes. He knew he was supposed to say something next, but couldn’t think what that right thing to say might be. Finally, he just settled for, “it wasn’t that much trouble.”
The innkeeper softened a bit, something Dorothea having said soothing his rumpled feathers. “There’s a bath out back if you want to use it, but this early in the spring, I’d recommend just taking a jug of hot water up with you and using the wash basin. We can send some dinner up as well.”
Hubert nodded, dropping a few coins on the counter in exchange for the key that was handed to him. He also dutifully picked up the warm stone pitcher that was brought out by a woman who was probably the innkeeper’s wife on their way up the stairs.
Once in the room, Hubert moved to one corner to give Dorothea privacy to wash up first. They went about their routine silently, Dorothea washing up and then making herself presentable again so that he could have a turn at the wash basin. While scrubbing at the mire from the fen they actually did stumble into, Hubert couldn’t help but ask, “why did you say we were married? We could have used any other number of covers.”
Dorothea laughed. It was a laugh Hubert admired when it wasn’t aimed at him. “You noticed the way he was brusque when he said there was only one room. It implied he wouldn’t give it to us if we were not married or related in some way. I could have said you were my cousin, I guess, but I didn’t want to risk him not believing that.”
“But we look so similar,” Hubert joked, and this time Dorothea was laughing with him, that tinkling giggle filling him with a pleasant warmth. It was nice, having someone working with him on this secret war. He had thought that after dethroning Rhea, he would be tackling the Slitherers on his own. He certainly never thought that Dorothea would be the one to work with him, especially with how she had spoken of her goals of finding a rich spouse and settling down.
They were quiet as they ate the cold sandwiches that were brought up for them, the cold roast flavorful and the bread was fresh with that delightful rough-ground flour chew to it. The silence lingered heavily as they dressed down for bed, still not looking at each other. Finally, Hubert grabbed one of the pillows and his cloak to make a bed on the floor, since there was only one quilt on the bed.
Dorothea rolled her eyes as she grabbed the pillow and tossed it back to the head of the bed. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re married, remember? We can share a bed.”
Hubert could feel himself flushing. “It’s not proper, I wouldn’t want to do anything to damage your reputation, it’s not–”
Dorothea cut him off with that laugh that was aimed at him, but somehow it also seemed aimed at herself. “Get in the bed, Hubert. You aren’t going to ruin my reputation, and you aren’t going to hurt me by sharing a bed. Saints know I’ve shared a bed with people far more unscrupulous and way worse than you.”
Hubert just grunted as he crawled under the quilt, laying on his side with his back to Dorothea.
After a moment, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Dorothea was crawling under the quilt when he spoke, so he half expected her not to hear him. The other half hoped she didn’t. She blew out the two candles on the side table, shrouding them in darkness and for a moment, Hubert thought he had gotten away with it.
“Why are you apologizing?”
Of course she heard him. Hubert sighed and rolled to his back. “I’m sorry you had to do so much just to survive. And that you are still doing it. If you weren’t constantly running off to investigate every potential rumor, if you weren’t pushing yourself to help me eliminate those who slither, you might have that spouse and home and freedom that you craved so much during the war.”
“It couldn’t be helped then, and now I get to choose the life I live.” But Dorothea was examining her inner forearms in the dark, Hubert’s eyes adjusting enough that he could imagine where they were based on how she was shifting next to him. She was probably looking at the burnt scarring on her wrists and hands, one of the dangers of the fire magic she was so proficient with.
“Still. I am sorry for dragging you into a second war so soon after the first one ended.”
Dorothea rolled over so she was facing Hubert as she giggled. “Dragged me? Oh, Hubie, you couldn’t drag me into anything. I chose this! I’d choose it again.” There was determination in her voice, a firmness that brokered no arguing. But Hubert was just as stubborn as she was and maybe he wanted to have this fight.
“Still, I know you value stability, and had hoped to be settled with a family by now.”
Hubert started as Dorothea grabbed his face, turning it so that their noses were touching. In the darkness, he could just make out the curve of her cheeks, the warmth of her roast-scented breath the only proof that such a beautiful, powerful creature was also human. With a steading inhale, Dorothea calmed herself before speaking. “For such an intelligent mastermind, you are an absolute dolt! I wanted to not depend on anyone’s charity for my future and you have given me an opportunity to provide for myself. I had thought I would either be a pretty trophy who was left to rot in the gutter once my beauty faded or would be a bored wife managing the house of a rich noble who loved me but had no expectations for me.”
She leaned her head forward to make their foreheads meet, an intimate gesture that made Hubert’s skin tingle everywhere she was touching him. Dorothea was trying to tell him something he couldn’t quite understand. So he let her continue.
“You let me have the life I wanted without compromising the future I wanted as well. You trusted me, and now I don’t have to choose between my future and my independence.”
“But you are alone.” Hubert didn’t know why he was whispering, it just felt like something was happening between them that speaking at full volume would break.
When Dorothea moved to pull her hands back, Hubert didn’t want her to. Instead, he placed his hand over hers, keeping them against his face.
“You say I’m alone and then won’t let me let you go.” Dorothea was also whispering, her voice almost reverent. Hubert didn’t know what was possessing him as he took one of Dorothea’s hands and kissed her wrist. Dorothea gave a sharp inhale at the gesture and Hubert tried to flip over in embarrassment but she held his face tightly. She was stronger than he assumed, and his surprised gasp made her snuggle closer to him.
“I don’t want you to be sorry. I love my life.”
Hubert could pick out the unspoken meaning behind her words. Still, he wasn’t going to be the first to confess. But he could make it easier for her. “Do you also– do you love–” He couldn’t finish the sentence though, fear gripping his heart. He could ruin everything if he wasn’t careful.
Dorothea turned it back on him. “Do you love me?”
Hubert took a moment to consider. He thought about the pride he felt that she wanted to continue working with him. He thought about the warmth he felt when she smiled at him after a job well done. How they fought together, alternating Dark Spikes and Thoron, Mire and Thunder, Miasma and Fire. How the two of them, mages, could take down entire strongholds of slitherers with ease. On the rare occasion when their magic ran short, she could cut down with a sword almost as quickly as he could with a lance. The fear he felt after any battle that seemed rough until he confirmed that she was safe and whole. All of these emotions together were probably what most would consider to be love.
“I do. But you do not have to in return–”
Before Hubert could finish, Dorothea was kissing him, pressing her lips against his. He was caught off guard at first, unresponsive, his lips pressed against his teeth in a way that felt uncoordinated and gangly compared to how soft and sweet Dorothea’s mouth was. But then his body caught up with his brain and he turned towards her, one hand wrapping around her lower back to pull her closer into the kiss.
They knew how to move around each other, their casting almost a dance, and that coordination and unity bled into this kiss, both of them moving together. Dorothea turned her head slightly, and Hubert knew she was asking him to deepen the kiss, to invade her mouth with his tongue if he wanted, if he noticed. He was slow about it though, licking along the seam of her lips even as they opened for him.
When they pulled back to breath, Hubert was quick to jump in. “House Vestra does not have much to offer you.”
He could feel more than see Dorothea roll her eyes. “And House Arnault has so much in comparison.”
His chest bursting with affection that he knew he had been tamping down and ignoring for so many years, Hubert couldn’t help but kiss her again. She was as biting and sharp as he was, her painted nails as honed as his daggers, her loyalty as strong as his own. Maybe stronger, for she chose to stay by Edelgard’s side without being born into that role, though Hubert knew he too chose Edelgard above all else.
Ever the practicalist, Hubert did not allow his mind to wander to the possibilities of the future. Instead, he focused on the feel of Dorothea against him, the way her lips were searching, the sweet sucking sounds of her sucking his tongue into her mouth, as if inviting him in in more ways than one. She loved him back, him of all people.
Finally, Dorothea pulled back from the kiss, her lips pouting with regret even as she stopped kissing him. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow; we should probably sleep.”
“Of course. Good night, Dorothea.” Hubert couldn’t help the formal tone that crept in; he didn’t know how to navigate this new avenue of their relationship yet. Luckily, Dorothea read it for the uncertainty it was, not as a slight.
“Goodnight, Hubie.” Dorothea booped his nose before rolling to her back.
Hubert followed suit, trying to will away his unwanted arousal. When pure willpower didn’t make it go away, Hubert rolled away from Dorothea so there was no chance of her seeing his reaction. He was not prepared, however, for her arms to snake around him, pulling his back to her chest, her giving him a soft kiss on the neck.
“I love you,” she whispered and that warmth flooded Hubert again. She loved him. They were going to win this war together. Dorothea wasn’t alone, and neither was Hubert.