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Battles and wars, Ferdinand reflected, were very different monsters. 

A single battle, such as their missions during their Academy days, was just a burst of adrenaline. It was frightening and exhilarating alike. It required perfect focus and expert training. But it ended. 

Adrenaline alone couldn't sustain one through a war. 

Wars meant time for the long anxieties to settle in. It meant having to fight while still healing from the last battle. It meant crunching numbers and weighing the lives of countless soldiers versus the odds of gaining a miniscule advantage. It meant keeping the morale of those soldiers up long-term, even if their leader was falling apart inside. 

On the front lines, Ferdinand was more-or-less in charge of the Imperial Cavalry. He organized care for horses and their riders, ensured strict training regimens, and designed supply routes, along with creating battle plans and leading the charge. In the meanwhile, he was still quietly investigating his own father, not to mention laying the groundwork for political changes that would come after the war. 

In short, a lot rested on Ferdinand's shoulders. The weight was nearly crushing. 

Everyone needed to stay fighting-fit; thus, self-care was a matter of duty. Ensuring food and sleep was one thing. Every camp also had to employ a group of professional Dominants and Submissives.

Without regularly fulfilling the psychological needs of one's Nature, whether Dom or Sub or a little of both, a soldier could become unstable. Ferdinand checked on all his lieutenants, and expected them to check with their soldiers, to make sure everyone had regular partners. When at war, one's mind couldn't afford to be clouded. It was no different than ensuring his soldiers were fed. That attitude is what brought Ferdinand down to Garreg Mach's impromptu brothel that afternoon.

It wasn't a particularly special day, all things told–a bit chilly. He was still somewhat disheveled from riding, but the lower stables were already near the D/s encampment. It was a convenient stop on the way to the baths. Better, it only took a moment, as the Madame knew to expect him. She happily reported that his soldiers were all accounted for. Before he could leave, though, the Madame stopped him with a hand on his arm. 

"You know, more than one of the Subs here have volunteered, should you ever need a partner of your own."

"It is most appreciated! However, I am very much taken care of already. My thanks for the kind offer."

Ferdinand high-tailed away from the tent before any other questions could be asked. The Madame blinked and the after-image of red hair spinning away was already faded. 

He knew the rumors surrounding him. Such a confident, athletic Dom, he'd overheard on his last visit, I bet he's very demanding of his partners. And another had stage-whispered, I would love to serve him!

He didn't know if he could stand it much longer. He was going to need to delegate someone else to do these check-ins for him (pathetic, a voice in his head declared). Even now, he could hear tittering as he walked away. He kept his back straight and pretended deafness. He went straight to his room, skipping the baths. He got inside, and locked his door, and crumpled to the ground. And he cried. 

-

For you see, Ferdinand was not a Dom. He was not even a Switch. Ferdinand was deeply submissive and fraying at the seams.

Growing up, everyone knew the princess and her shadow were Dominant. It was obvious even when they were children. But Ferdinand played whatever other children suggested, and kept up with his studies with nearly inhuman diligence. His respect for authority went beyond societal norms. And there was no authority in his youngest years that he wanted to please more than his father. 

His father wanted a Dom for a son– someone who could compete with Edelgard. So he told him, if Ferdinand wanted to amount to anything, he needed to learn to behave as a Dominant would. He could never, even in private, have someone help fulfill his needs. His father refused to acknowledge him unless he could pretend to own a room and everyone in it (with the special exception, naturally, of the Duke Aegir himself).

For some years, Ferdinand had overcompensated. He tried to mimic the Dominants around him. It felt so unnatural that it came across as brash self-absorption rather than their steadfast confidence. 

The longer he lived apart from his father, the more he drifted into seeking his own approval. As his sense of self matured, he felt fine speaking his mind and fighting for his beliefs–something his father said Submissives were incapable of. He wondered if his natural inclinations were shifting to at least somewhat Switch, but that was wishful thinking. 

When it came to giving orders and critical decisions, he felt paralyzed. He could detach from himself and do what must be done, but afterwards… the panic was getting worse. As a student he'd gotten by on his professors' praises. He'd pretended common courtesy was submission, and he'd volunteered for weapons maintenance to serve others as inconspicuously as possible. Goddess, there was the entire time with Dorothea and the cookies. Everyone should have realized his secret then. But now, so much was expected of him–and no one dared tell him what to do. 

Ferdinand knew what subdrop was, of course. Everyone did. Refusing to fulfill the needs of one's Nature led to increased stress, palpitations, sleeplessness, and "emotional irregularity," as Linhardt put it. If left long enough, physical illnesses could result. That went for everyone of every Nature; domdrop wasn't spoken of often, but it was just as prevalent. However, Ferdinand knew he could hold on through this campaign. He had to. 

Traditionally, only Dominant types held public office. Edelgard wanted to change that assumption, but her war came too late for Ferdinand. He was already a Dom in the public eye. And he needed to stay that way, to win the war. 

–

He tried to be the Dominant he needed. 

He assigned himself routine care. He soothed himself with gentle touches when no one was watching. He imagined a steady voice urging him to mind himself. Sometimes, in the dead of night, he whispered, "Good job, Ferdinand." 

But it had never been enough, and every day this war dragged on, it was less and less enough. 

–

Not everyone shared Edelgard's vision for equality, even in her own court. Even over simple issues. 

They were in Enbarr, now–perhaps for the last time before the war was won. As one last piece of business–practically a side note in today's court session–Edelgard appointed Dorothea to manage the influx of war refugees to the capitol city. It would be a critical component to the deal they were brokering with the Alliance. 

A minor noble cleared his throat at the perfunctory announcement. Everyone paused for the overdressed man to say: "We cannot truly expect someone of Ms. Arnault's inclination to be successful with such responsibility. Your Majesty, with respect, it's not only for our own good, but for hers. We must respect the limitations of some Natures."

Ferdinand could feel his hairs stand on end. It was like his father was in the room, speaking through this unimportant weasel. Edelgard, meanwhile, raised an imperial eyebrow and waited for the man to sweat. 

"Hubert," she finally said, not breaking eye contact with the nervous courtier. 

"Yes, my lady?"

"Remind me, what was my decree on Natures from Ethereal Moon, 11xx?"

"Whereas competence is not found by reputable scholarship to be linked with Natures; whereas strength and leadership come in many forms all beneficial in various aspects for the Empire; and whereas all citizens of Adrestia deserve a chance to fulfill completely their civic potential; therefore her Majesty Edelgard von Hresvelg declares that a person's status as Submissive, Dominant, or intermediary shall henceforth have no effect on whether said person qualifies for civic or military office," he recited neatly.

The naysayer paled a bit. 

"And what were Dorothea's qualifications?" Edelgard continued. 

"Intimate knowledge of the people and boroughs of Enbarr; training in logistics, maths, and healing arts from Garreg Mach Academy; trustworthiness, passion, and loyalty; and lastly, no obvious conflicts of interest, unlike some others in this room."

"Thank you, Minister Vestra. Now, your lordship, do you have any legitimate complaints?"

The man sat down and shook his head. 

Ferdinand's heart pounded in his ears. He was glad for Dorothea, but this confirmed all his panic about keeping his own secret. If the court had such things to say about a relatively minor project, what would they say about a Submissive Prime Minister? 

Their internal meetings ended and the Alliance negotiations could begin, but Ferdinand's ears were ringing. 

People would forever question his decisions if they knew the truth. If he were even allowed to make decisions. No one knew. No one had given him permission. He was alone and utterly responsible for his own agony and couldn't even control his own mind. How could he lead an army? An empire?

The blackness settled in harder and faster than it ever had. The anxiety was so extraordinary he could barely speak. Air felt too big in his lungs. The room wobbled, or possibly Ferdinand did.  

Someone asked a question. All Ferdie could do was say, "excuse me," and run. 

–

That had been nearly two days ago. Ferdinand hadn't been able to summon the wherewithal to leave his suite. He refused to answer his door, claiming illness. Every moment there deepened his shame, but he couldn't force himself to go pretend again. His need was too great, and too unsolvable. The black state of mind refused to be shaken. 

He replied to neither letters nor summons. He had no escape plan for this mess, but he couldn't leave. 

After two evenings, he had lost the patience of the Minister of the Imperial Household. When knocks weren't answered, Hubert picked the lock to Ferdinand's suites. 

He found Ferdinand barely standing, in his nightclothes and curled into a wall. Clearly he'd been on his way to the door and couldn't make it. He tried to straighten up at the invasion, but didn't quite manage.  

Hubert did not mince words; his displeasure was palpable. "Don't you know we're at war? What are you doing, taking sick leave when we– when her Majesty needs you?"

"I'm sick," Ferdie said weakly. 

"You're not. I've already spoken with the healers, maids, and valets. No one's stories match. You're clearly unwell, but that's not the whole of it. Tell me the truth."

Ferdinand crumbled at the simple command, the one thing his heart had been crying out for. He was speaking before even thinking: "I think I'm in subdrop. Please, forgive me." He cast his eyes on the ground after just a glimpse of Hubert's surprise. 

For a few long moments, all Ferdinand's focus went to not weeping. He could feel the heat behind his eyes, but refused to give in. Hubert was the last man he wanted to see this.

Hubert stepped closer, in his silent way. Ferdinand only knew because he saw the edge of Hubert's polished shoes. The sight wavered from his threatening tears. He stared down until Hubert gently pushed his chin up. 

"Can I send for someone for you?" Hubert carefully kept his voice away from his Dominant register.

Ferdinand shook his head. Hubert's brow furrowed, and panic seized up in Ferdinand's chest. Had he upset the Dom? Disappointed, angered, annoyed? What else could he possibly do wrong?

The other man didn't rebuke him, though. Instead, Hubert asked: "...would you like to kneel for me, Ferdinand?"

Ferdinand dropped to his knees so hard his spine rattled. When he looked up at Hubert, the tears finally fell from his eyes. Hubert's mouth hung open in actual shock for a moment–the first time Ferdinand had ever seen such an expression. 

It only took a few moments for Hubert to recover, though, before he decided: 

"... I'm going to sit down on that armchair. Once I'm seated, I want you to crawl to me and kneel again. Can you do that?"

Ferdinand nodded eagerly. 

The four steps to Ferdinand's reading chair took Hubert far longer than they needed to–then he paused a long time before sitting. The redhead couldn't see his face well enough to discern the man's thoughts. He desperately hoped Hubert wasn't disappointed in him. Oh Goddess, he had never subbed for someone before. What if he'd already done something wrong? 

Then Hubert sat, and tapped his toe on the ground in front of him. Ferdinand nearly fell over himself in his rush to get to Hubert's feet. 

He resumed his kneel–hopefully doing it right, hands on his thighs, back straight–and looked up at Hubert for his next instruction. He didn't even spare a thought to be grateful for his plush rug.

Hubert tilted his chin as he studied the man before him. "Put your hand over your throat for me. Do not squeeze."

His voice had deepened just a touch, in some unquantifiable way that harmonized with everything Ferdinand was feeling. The redhead shivered and complied without hesitation. He felt the bristle of untended stubble under his hand. Normally that would mortify him, but today it seemed unimportant. 

Hubert slowly reached out to tangle fingers in his hair. 

"That's good," Hubert said, and Ferdinand's breath hitched. "I am not going to put a collar on you tonight. But you can keep a hand there as a sign of my control. If you want this to stop, you need only drop your hand. Do you understand?"

Ferdinand nodded. 

"Can you speak?"

Ferdinand opened his mouth, frowned, and closed it again. Words felt fuzzy and far away. Like he was wrapped in a warm blanket and could only see the shape of them through a foggy window. He looked up at Hubert with wide, frightened eyes. 

"You're not in trouble. Just shake your head 'no'."

Ferdinand dutifully shook his head. 

"Then I'll only ask yes or no questions. You will not get in trouble for any answer, so long as it's honest. Do you understand?"

Ferdinand nodded. 

"You're doing well."

Ferdinand smiled. He noticed, in an absent sort of way, that his face was still wet with tears. Hadn't they stopped yet? He wanted to wipe them off but wouldn't move either hand and wouldn't look away. 

"You haven't been brought down by someone recently, have you?"

A head-shake. 

"Since the war began?"

Another no signal. 

"Earlier?" 

Ferdinand hesitated, eyes glistening in the firelight. He bit his lip and shrugged. 

Hubert frowned a little, but also started stroking his hair, which balanced the anxiety out.

"You have been with a Dominant before, correct?"

Ferdinand shook his head and got to see a flash of shock on Hubert's face for the second time that night. "I… see. No need for tears." Hubert wiped away the offending liquid. "I'm happy with you for telling me."

That started the tears afresh. Who would have ever thought Hubert capable of such words? Who would have ever thought his terrifying rasp could almost sound warm?

"...I would allow you to cry on my shoulder instead of the floor. Do you want that?" 

A small nod. 

"Alright. Get up here. Then you may lean into me."

Once again Ferdinand nearly tripped as he rushed to get closer to Hubert. It was especially delicate because he absolutely would not release his hand from his neck. Luckily years of riding let him balance in Hubert's lap easily enough. The chair just barely fit them both like this. 

He couldn't make himself do more than straddle Hubert, though. It seemed unbearably intimate, and presumptuous, to touch him even this much. He stared dumbly down at Hubert's face, trying to quantify the ways it was both softer and harsher than usual. The glittering calculation ever-present in his eyes was offset by the soft, open wonder of his thin mouth. Ferdinand couldn't stop looking. Eventually, Hubert took the initiative, tucking him under his chin and petting his hair again. 

"You may cry, but do try to stay quiet enough no one will investigate."

Ferdinand took a trembling breath and obeyed. 

For the next twenty minutes, Hubert stroked his back and hair, pausing only a few times to wipe his face. Ferdinand was utterly lost. There was only the pain, finally safe enough to be let out. Ferdinand felt the weight of every lie he'd told. Every day spent in fear. Every exhausted morning where he couldn't imagine how to face the day yet again. Each and every pain in his heart, finally given soggy absolution into Hubert's neck. 

Even when the tears stopped, Ferdinand kept his head buried against Hubert's shoulder, not wanting this to end. All he could feel were the hands soothing him and the soft wool under his cheek. Finally, his mind was quiet.

Ferdinand didn't get to float in the aether very long. Hubert gently extricated himself, just enough to see his face properly. He didn't smile exactly, but his eyes softened. "You did well," he said. 

Ferdinand had no tears left, but if he had he might have wept anew. 

"You've done well for years. You must be incredibly strong," Hubert murmured, and Ferdinand felt like he was the parched land getting its first rain after a drought. He couldn't look away from Hubert's face, now. Everything else was fuzzy. 

This gentle Hubert deserved worship. He deserved submission. Ferdinand was delighted to realize that he was submitting. Were his thoughts slow? He squeezed his neck a little, resituating amidst the slightly uncomfortable damp of tears and sweat. Hubert smiled and spanned his hand over Ferdinand's nape. Their fingers nearly touched around his neck. 

"Your eyes are so dark…you've needed this. Does anyone else know?"

Ferdinand managed to whisper, "Father."

Hubert carefully shuttered his expression. "I see. Thank you for telling me."

Ferdinand nodded. But Hubert seemed lost in thought, and Ferdie didn't know why. Had he displeased him? He tightened the fingers around his neck, centering himself. He tried to ask with his eyes what came next. When that didn't work, it's possible he let out a pitiful noise. 

Hubert's attention came back, feeling like distilled relief. He seemed to understand the nonverbal request, and said: "I would like to sleep beside you tonight. Only for sleeping–nothing else. Tell me truthfully if you would be comfortable with that."

Ferdinand nodded eagerly, causing his elbow to bob too. Whatever his Dom wanted. It would be a joy to sleep alongside him!

Hubert smiled softly. It wasn't his usual smirk or sinister intimidation tactic–it was a small but genuine uptick at both corners of his mouth. Ferdinand was one of the few living people who'd ever seen such an expression, and even he, only a handful of times. 

He glowed with pride at causing it himself. 

"Stand back up."

Once his lap was Ferdinand-free, Hubert took off his boots, socks, and coat before standing himself. Then, he said, "I'd like you to take off exactly as much of my clothing as you want for tonight. There is no wrong answer. It can be nothing but my cravat. As much as you're comfortable to sleep beside."

Ferdinand nodded. He did start with the cravat, although it was difficult one-handed. 

"For this task, use both hands. You may collar yourself again after."

Although that helped, it didn't change the fact that Ferdinand had never undressed someone else; this was trickier, untying it from a different neck. He did succeed. Once it was in hand, he stared down at it mutely. 

"Stack any of my clothes in the chair," Hubert said softly. Only then did Ferdinand realize how close they were. He'd been so focused on his task that he hadn't even looked at Hubert's face. 

He was so close. Ferdinand could have counted the flecks of gold and chartreuse in his eyes. Both eyes; this close he could see through and under Hubert's bangs. He was lovely. 

After a long moment, Ferdinand nodded, and laid the necktie in the armchair. 

He looked back up at Hubert with considerably more nervousness. 

"Go ahead," Hubert said. 

So he reached for Hubert's vest. 

Something in Ferdinand was surprised at Hubert's warmth. His chest moved with his breathing; his breath warmed Ferdinand's face. He was very human in this moment. And Ferdinand was unbuttoning his clothes. 

The vest was easy. The shirt, revealing skin he'd never seen before– that was harder. But he'd be comfortable sleeping beside a bare-chested man, and those were his orders. 

Ferdinand relished the tiny brushes of skin that couldn't be avoided. He wouldn't take more than what had been offered, but–Hubert was beautiful. His skin was white as milk, as snow. It was accented by the soft pink of his nipples and a lacework of scars. All of this wrapped in a lean, angular frame, contrasting delicacies around a man who was anything but delicate. 

Hubert stiffened a bit when it came to his gloves, whose hem had been hidden beneath his shirtsleeves. For a long moment, both men froze. Hubert eventually nodded; Ferdinand peeled them off. Hubert's fingers were blackened with magic, marred with acid and burn scars. Ferdinand wished he could kiss those fingers. Maybe he'd be allowed to later. For the moment, he gently placed the gloves aside. 

Hubert's jodhpurs were last. Ferdinand made as quick a work of the lacings and buttons as he could, too shy to linger on these touches as he had above. When he knelt to finish getting them off, he stayed down there, folding the trousers and sliding them onto the armchair. Then, his hand almost unthinkingly moved back to his neck.

Hubert looked pleased, or something close to it for Hubert. "Look how good you are," he murmured, and Ferdinand couldn't help but grin wide. 

"Repeat the same task for yourself, taking off what you don't want to sleep in tonight. However much is comfortable for you."

Ferdinand reluctantly returned to his feet. He was much faster undressing himself–admittedly an easier task since he was dressed for sick days. He hesitated a bit at the underclothes–he often slept in the nude, a habit picked up over muggy Aegir summers. But Hubert said 'as much as he was comfortable.' Ferdinand didn't have to be paralyzed between weighing social norms and perceived threats and what everyone else might want. He just had to obey Hubert, and Hubert would take care of everything else. 

He was allowed to stop at the edge of comfort and not force himself past. 

So moments later, they were two men in their smalls staring at each other. Ferdinand wanted to kneel again, but instead just let his hand creep back up over his collarbone. He'd ache tomorrow from holding this position, but he would relish it. Hubert nodded, then took his free hand and guided them into sitting on the sumptuous bed. 

"Turn around. I'm going to braid your hair."

Ferdinand groaned at the first touch of fingers against his scalp, so Hubert massaged his head for a bit before starting his work. His fingers moved dexterously, and before long he was tying off a neat braid. Ferdinand hardly had the capacity to track all the in-between bits–too busy floating. 

"Well done. Get under the covers, now."

Ferdinand did. Hubert tended to the fire and blew out the candles, moving around the chambers like he knew the place. Once their only illumination was the banked embers of the fire and the watery moonlight, Hubert crawled into bed and gently pushed Ferdinand to lay on his side. Then he wrapped an arm around Ferdinand's middle, pressing them together chest-to-back.

"You'll be safe here with me, all night. You don't have to keep holding your collar. I want you to sleep comfortably, whatever that looks like."

Ferdinand nodded. Hubert could feel it.

It wasn't long before Ferdinand was fast asleep, curled against Hubert and relaxed for the first time in years. 

-

Ferdinand awoke slowly, feeling more rested than he could remember. 

Upon blinking awake, he noticed Hubert sitting at his writing desk. After a long moment of utter confusion, the night flooded back to him. Ferdinand could feel a detached mortification, but all he did about it was continue watching Hubert. 

The other man kept writing for a bit, then put down the quill and looked at him. "How do you feel?" he asked, apparently unsurprised at the open eyes spying on him.  

Ferdinand wasn't sure how to answer. One part of him had stayed completely relaxed, while the rest was more wound up than ever. 

"To be honest, I am a little muddled still." Ferdinand's voice was rough with sleep, but at least he had one now. 

Hubert hummed. "I need to deliver these. I want you to count to two hundred. I'll be back before you're done. Alright?"

Ferdinand nodded, albeit a bit confused. 

"Out loud, Ferdinand."

Hubert warped away before Ferdinand could say anything. Muttering the numbers, he tried to figure out what the blazes Hubert was up to, but every theory was less sensible than the last. Hubert warped back in through the shadows at one hundred seventy two.

Ferdinand was still ensconced in soft bedding, and Hubert sat beside him, not quite close enough to touch. "I've secured us at least half the day off. Breakfast will be delivered here. You and I need to discuss what happened."

Ferdinand blinked up at him, then looked away. A tiny thread was coming loose in his quilt. Absently, he fiddled with it. "If you think I must resign, I shall."

Hubert raised a brow. "As usual, you utterly fail to catch my meaning."

"There's no need to spare my feelings. Whatever you must do with me, I'd rather have done with it."

"Ferdinand, listen to me," Hubert growled. Ferdinand's mouth closed on instinct as he looked back up. "You are an asset to the Empire. Short of Her Majesty, none could remove you from your post. And I intend to recommend to her that you stay."

Ferdinand looked confused. "But… I lied."

"And I'm hardly one to judge for that, am I?"

"If anyone knew, the consequences–"

"For the moment, only I know. And as long as you'd like to keep it that way, I'll help you, my Lady allowing. For what it's worth, I'm certain she will approve."

"How can you know that?"

"It's what makes the most sense. You're a capable leader, no matter your Nature. But my one condition is this: you need someone to take you down regularly. Anything less would be putting yourself and your soldiers in danger."

Ferdinand snorted–a most ignoble noise, but it was hardly a morning for propriety. "How do you suggest that? No one wants a commander as their Submissive."

To Ferdinand's bafflement, Hubert let out a full cackle. It lasted entirely too long before the taller man had the breath to say: "You are so incorrect I hardly know where to start. The list of Dominants you could have is only limited by the number you can trust. I can help you find someone worthy who won't raise suspicions."

"Why can't you be the one?" Ferdinand asked before actively thinking about the words. 

Hubert's mirth died as he stared long enough for Ferdinand to feel mortified. "I am hardly a trustworthy companion. I've paid for most of my Submissives, and even then few had me more than once. You accepted me last night because you were desperate; I had assumed you'd want someone more suitable now that you've enough mind to have a say."

"Your assumption is ridiculous. There was a reason I went down for you. It was not mere desperation," Ferdinand said, his voice quiet but unshakably sure. 

Hubert was the one baffled now. His silence went on long enough that Ferdinand added, "If we did this, there would be no need for you to hire discreet Submissive professionals, would there? And no risk of our secrets being exposed. It benefits us both."

"I see. I suppose I am the most convenient choice."

"I didn't mean it like that! You are not merely expedient. You took care of me last night, Hubert. I know enough to realize not everyone would have. If you do not want me, of course, that is another matter entirely."

"That's not an issue," Hubert said, with a smile in his voice if not on his face. "Very well. I think it is worth trying. Although we should both take time before anything rash."

"Agreed!"

At that moment, someone knocked. Hubert held out a hand as he rose, silently telling Ferdinand to stay put. He returned with a tray of food. 

"Perfect timing. Let's eat, then perhaps tonight we can come back to this discussion."

Ferdinand nodded, and enjoyed a quiet meal in bed with Hubert's warmth pressed alongside him.

-

They'd ventured out and parted ways midmorning. There was too much work to be done, and appearances to uphold. Ferdinand could luckily blame "illness" for his preoccupation. In reality, he could hardly concentrate on anything with tonight's discussions looming. He couldn't have recounted his afternoon activities by dinnertime. 

Hubert knocked precisely on time that evening. He awkwardly shifted on his heels when Ferdinand opened the door, and couldn't seem to think of anything to say. What a turnabout from mere hours earlier!

"Please, come in," Ferdinand said, waving in the general direction of his bed. "I have wine, if you so desire. I would have prepared coffee, but I know it keeps you awake, and you get little enough sleep as it is."

"No, thank you," Hubert said, settling into the writing desk's stool. Ferdinand perched on his bed. 

"Have you thought much about our situation?" Hubert finally asked. No small talk, then. 

"All day. Although, I am not certain what you want from me."

"What do you mean?"

"What happened last night… it is not what people normally do, is it? You were far more gentle than I had ever imagined." Ferdinand couldn't quite look at Hubert while speaking, but glanced up to see his reaction afterwards. 

Hubert looked bemused. "You weren't of a mindset capable to consent. I wouldn't hurt you before gaining your permission. Although I admit curiosity as to how you've imagined me." Hubert's eyes danced at that. 

Ferdinand felt his face heat. How to tell him those things? 

"... perhaps it would be easier for you to tell me what you would enjoy," Hubert suggested. 

"I am afraid there is much I do not know…"

"What are your thoughts on pain? Discipline? Would you like to venture into bodily pleasures? You set all the rules in this."

"You do not just… make me obey?"

"Never. And no worthy Dominant would." Ferdinand was surprised at the vehemence in Hubert's voice. For a man whose entire profession was unsavory deeds, he clearly had a code of ethics, at least in this matter. 

Unfortunately, that left Ferdinand with a conundrum. "What if… I wanted that?"

The patented Hubert smirk made Ferdinand's stomach flip. "Then that is what we would arrange. But we'll not begin before agreeing to terms. Only then will I get to work making you my obedient plaything." 

Those words made Ferdinand's cock throb. They reverberated in his head, narrowing his focus to all the things Hubert might do. 

"Oh, you enjoyed that. Your pupils are huge. Easy for me, aren't you?" 

Ferdinand nodded so fast his red curls bounced. He wanted to be good. 

Hubert's voice went soft and deep. "Settle, Ferdinand. Come back up. I need you present."

It was easy to follow such a voice. Ferdinand blinked a few times until his head felt clearer, then nodded. 

"That's good. We were talking about how this could work. I need to know something of your preferences."

"I… I apologize. I truly have no frame of reference. I was always supposed to hide this. I have tried to ignore it for so long…"

When Ferdinand trailed off, Hubert eventually took over. "Have you ever imagined your own scenes? Your own Dominant?"

"Yes," he said quietly. 

"Tell me what you imagine."

Ferdinand looked up at the man across from him, finding himself mesmerized by the intensity in Hubert's peridot eyes. "I… I like the idea of structure. Someone ensuring I eat regularly, telling me to go to bed, that sort of thing. Not wholesale dependence, but…care. I'd like to serve and be taken care of in return."

"Good. What else?"

"I imagine coming home for the day, and–and kneeling for someone. Being used to relieve their stress. Not having to–no, not being allowed to worry about anything. Even, um."

"... even?"

"Even my own orgasms. I want my Dominant to choose when I can do that," Ferdinand whispered. 

"Your Dominant will be very lucky indeed," Hubert said. He still hadn't stood from the stool, although his fingers drummed against the desk. He also crossed his legs. "Those are all ideas I like very much, Ferdinand. What about when you don't obey your rules?"

"I would always! I have no intention of doing anything but exceeding expectations."

"I appreciate your eagerness. But let's say you did. Does the thought of being disciplined turn you on?"

Hubert was so matter-of-fact! How could Ferdinand match that candor? He could only nod. And Hubert chuckled again. 

"Spanking? Orgasm denial?" Ferdinand only blushed harder. "What about being told how bad you've been?"

Ferdinand's arousal dried up in an instant. It must have shown on his face, because Hubert continued almost without interruption. "Hmm, I thought as much. Better to tell you when you've been good, and praise you for taking your punishments so well, hmm?"

A rapid nod, and then a wheezing, "How are you so good at this?"

"Heh. My job is knowing people better than they know themselves, and using it against them. There's crossover."

"You were nervous earlier!" 

"That was before you invited me in and looked so starved."

"I'm not–! Um. I. What would you want, from me?"

"To start, come back up for me again."

Ferdinand lengthened out his breaths, closing his eyes and trying to clear his head. He thought of import tariffs and structuring a public schooling system. And he opened his eyes. 

Hubert was observing him still. "It's obvious you haven't done this before. By our ages most people can hold a negotiation without such lascivious reactions."

"You know my circumstances. I would thank you for not using them against me," Ferdinand said primly. 

"Oh, I will use everything I have against you. You know I am a pragmatic man. I think that's what you want."

Ferdinand… didn't pout, exactly. If you asked him. 

"Besides, I like knowing that you'll be taken care of properly. We need you at peak performance."

Ferdinand nodded despite the pang in his chest at the honest reasoning. Of course Hubert viewed this as a business transaction. Hadn't Ferdinand himself presented it as such? 

"I do appreciate this, Hubert." It was insufficient, but anything he could say would be. 

"We're not doing everything at once. You'll have to be patient." Hubert quirked an eyebrow. 

"I can do that."

"I know. Now, as for logistics: I believe we will need to meet as often as possible to combat your subdrop. You're worn ragged." 

Ferdinand blinked. For a man so comfortable with half-truths and subterfuge, Hubert was still being shockingly straightforward. Ferdinand never imagined anything like this. All he could manage to say was: "I can arrange to be free most evenings, until our next march."

"Excellent. Now, I have one more request. An assignment, if you will."

"What is it?"

"Since you can barely speak to me without dropping at the moment, I'll need you to write down hard and soft limits, and any other things you think of that you might enjoy."

Ferdinand nodded. "I trust you will do the same?"

"I will. And I'll be here tomorrow night, at the same time, if that suits."

"Yes, perfect." 

"Ferdinand?"

"Yes, Hubert?"

"Be sure to eat and sleep between now and then," he said in that voice that made Ferdinand forget anything else. 

"Yes, Hubert," he said. 

"Good. I'll leave now. But you are to contact me immediately if you feel symptoms of subdrop again. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Hubert." Ferdinand didn't know, but his eyes had gone wondrously fuzzy at even the minor order. If Hubert didn't make himself leave now, he might never do so. 

–

The next day of training, planning, and giving orders among the cavalry was perfectly smooth. Just knowing he would release those burdens tonight helped Ferdinand stay present and functional.

The only time his heart seized up is when he saw Edelgard for the first time since it all began. She nodded his way, giving him a small smile. 

"Ferdinand," she said, "Hubert told me you were feeling better. I'm glad to see it."

"Thank you, Edelgard. I truly appreciate the time you allowed."

"I will allow whatever is needed for you to stay healthy, my friend." Edelgard got a certain look on her face, and he knew she knew everything. For the space of two heartbeats, it was quiet. 

Then, he said, "Thank you. You can count on me doing everything necessary to stay fighting-fit. Hubert is helping to ensure it."

"Good. He is a better man than even he gives himself credit for. Now, will you accompany me to the training yard?"

They sparred, and that was the end of it. Ferdinand felt remarkably light afterwards. He stopped briefly in his rooms to wash up, change, and prepare.  

–

Their next negotiations ended with Ferdinand on his knees. 

They did things properly, first: clear-headed discussions, establishing boundaries, and so on. Ferdinand had trouble saying some of it outloud, given the abuse he'd faced from his father for ever mentioning anything like this. Luckily, the writing of it had been considerably easier–especially since Hubert had demanded it. 

Ferdinand sat paralyzed with terror as Hubert read a list that had turned into sheet after sheet of rambling fantasies. He'd been up embarrassingly late writing it, and after that still lain awake, achingly hard. With every extra minute Hubert spent reading, Ferdinand second-guessed his exuberant prose a little more. Perhaps he shouldn't have gone into such depth about all the ways he longed to be praised. 

Hubert was blushing, though. Was that a good sign, or a very bad one?

After reading the final page, Hubert glanced up at him with a small smirk. "Leave it to you to write a novel where a few words would do."

"I thought it best to go into detail to minimize our chances of misunderstanding."

"Such professionalism. And I'm sure this didn't end up being fantasy fodder for your self-pleasure all night."

"For your information, I refrained from any such actions," Ferdinand huffed. 

"Why?" Hubert looked genuinely bewildered. 

"I wanted… I know you did not request it, but if you had wanted me to wait for you, I thought that would be most… agreeable. To me."

Hubert's eyes darkened in a way that made Ferdinand's body pulse. Then, the mage silently handed over his own (single) sheet of paper, folded in half and divided into three neat sections:

• Desired: your eager obedience while we're alone, but no true loss of autonomy; lighter physical pain and/or punishments; bondage (sexual or non-sexual); edging/orgasm control; blindfolds; sensation play; pre-negotiated casual use; honorifics; oral, anal, or manual sex, both giving and receiving, dependent on partner's desires.
• Neutral: intentional bleeding or severe painplay; verbal/ emotional degradation; some roleplay; somnophilia; most other things I've encountered
• Not desired: brat-taming; cells/cages; piss or scat; ageplay; multiple partners; anything including the word "daddy"

Ferdinand needed a few definitions and clarifications ("What constitutes 'lighter' pain exactly?") Once he understood the brief list, he remarked that it all seemed somewhat tame, given Hubert's shadowy profession. 

"I've plenty of violence and coercion in my day-to-day work. It's far more novel to have someone want to be good for me."

Ferdinand internalized that as he reread the list a fourth time. "Have you done all of these things?"

"No. I've been asked to do most of it, but it all felt… performative. It's either what they expected me to want, or I was merely filling a void in their villain fantasy. Neither was as satisfying as you simply kneeling for me."

Ferdinand blushed to his ears, then tilted his head in consideration. "You feature in some of my own villainous fantasies. Would you like to avoid those?"

"Not at all," Hubert said with a dark chuckle, "the difference is that you already know exactly what a villain I am. It would hardly be a performance, for you."

And on they continued, dissecting specifics, deciding on safewords, and so on. Hubert was open to both sexual and platonic arrangements; Ferdinand hadn't even known platonic arrangements were an option. That made something spark in Hubert's eyes.

"Knowing it is an option to avoid sexual entanglements, does that change your desires?" 

"No, I think not," Ferdinand replied. For a moment, he felt so confident he asked, "Could we begin now?"

"So eager. Yes, kneel for me."

-

The plush red armchair was rapidly becoming Hubert's favorite spot. It was the perfect height to have someone rest against his leg, and the angle lit up Ferdinand's face in the candlelight. It highlighted the desires in his amber eyes. Ferdinand went to his knees before that chair and Hubert got to look his fill. 

Admittedly, reading Ferdinand's florid prose still had Hubert somewhat… stirred. His body wanted nothing more than to let Ferdinand worship him exactly as he'd described. But Hubert intended diligence and precision in this exploration. No use setting Ferdinand back by moving too quickly. 

Every one of those written fantasies had included sexual intercourse of some kind. Hubert trusted Ferdinand's word about his own desires, but if he hadn't even known that asexual submission was an option (damn Ludwig von Aegir to ever-burning Aillell), then he might need time to fully consider it. If Hubert could give Ferdinand a taste of what he wanted, without jumping in too quickly, he might save them both regrets. 

So Hubert said, "I can see you salivating. That’s not the service you'll be giving me tonight."

Ferdinand's eyes went from Hubert's clothed erection back up to his face. His clear confusion was enough to give Hubert a small smile. 

"You will kneel for me, just where you are. You will tell me about the fantasies this discussion has spurred in you. And afterward, should it please me, I might allow you to put on a show." 

"Please, Hubert," Ferdinand whispered, letting his hair fall over his burning face. "We have done so much talking already."

"If you intend to safeword, you know what to say."

After a moment Ferdinand shook his head. Hubert leaned back in the chair, then tossed a thin leather strap he'd been saving between Ferdinand's legs. 

"That's for your hair. No hiding. Pull it back."

For a moment, Hubert got to enjoy the view of Ferdinand's clothes barely containing him as his arms moved behind his head. Then, with the hair out of Ferdie's face, Hubert could see his dazed, horny embarrassment in all its glory. 

He didn't try to hide his smirk when he said, "There's little that pleases me more than a powerful man kneeling and desperate for me. You're doing well."

Again, Ferdinand felt his entire body come alight. How could mere words make him feel so relaxed, yet throb with need at the same time? He tried to grasp the memory of what he should be doing. 

"M-my fantasies, yes? You just read most of them. My current excitement truly lies in what you described. I liked what you said, Sir, about pain. I never thought I would want that, but you make it sound… delightful. A stinging kiss to empty your mind… it sounds. Nice." 

Ferdinand's voice was going hazy in the exact way Hubert had hoped for. Usually the Submissive was articulate, outspoken, and loud. He'd certainly been the former two, tonight, and that made Hubert itch to undo him. 

And Hubert hadn't yet even asked for the "Sir." Every moment was showing him how badly Ferdinand needed this. He fell apart so easily. Beautifully, Hubert thought, and then he locked that thought away to examine never. 

It might be a long night, getting Ferdinand to let himself go as deeply as he needed. Hubert was far from complaining, however: "Tell me more."

"I can imagine you tying my hands… making my skin red and bruised for you, thinking it's pretty." As his face gently went slack, his voice went softer, too. So easy. Hubert could hardly believe he'd kept his needs hidden so long. 

"It would be 'pretty.' Pain is its own artistry. I'd never give such a magnificent canvas anything less than a masterpiece."

Ferdinand whined. His hands clenched down on his thighs. Clearly, his arousal was skyrocketing, but he behaved himself. 

"Keep going, now. Tell me what you'd want next."

"A-after you were done hurting me, perhaps I would have earned a reward. Perhaps you would see my need and have mercy, Sir. The pleasure you granted would be all the more overwhelming for the pain that preceded it." 

"And you think I would allow you to cum?" 

"I hope so, Sir."

So precious, Hubert mused. As he submitted, his stuttering stopped. His thoughts weren't getting in the way. He was almost ready. 

"How would you like your pleasure, Ferdinand?"

"However you want to give it to me. I do not want to decide, please."

"Ah, yes. You don't want control, do you? You want to take exactly what I give you like a good toy."

Ferdinand's eyes slipped closed as he bit back a loud moan. "Yes, Sir," he nearly hissed. 

"That was very good, Ferdinand. For this to work, you'll need to keep practicing complete verbal openness like that. Not to worry, I'll guide you should you falter."

Ferdinand whined low in his throat. His hips jerked once in need before he could settle himself. 

"Now, tell me what your safeword is."

"Coffee."

"And when do you use it?"

"Any time I want to truly stop our scene or need a break."

"Good boy. Now, strip for me and lay on your bed."

Ferdinand was naked faster than seemed possible. 

"Fold your clothes."

"Oh! My apologies." He sounded incredibly Ferdinand, which was almost irksome. Hubert liked hearing that new, private, soft side of him. 

"My apologies, what?"

"S-sir! My apologies, Sir." Ferdinand had frozen, wide-eyed, a sock in each hand. 

"Better. Continue."

Ferdinand nodded slowly, and kept going. He was so caught up in obeying that he seemed to forget he was naked. Hubert leaned back to enjoy the view. 

In short order, the de facto Prime Minister's clothes were stacked neatly on his chest of drawers. Only then did he remember to be self-conscious. 

It would need to be trained out of him, Hubert thought, but for now it was rather adorable how he tried to hide his erection. Hubert should want to set that thought aside, should reject anything with the word adore, but Subs weren't the only ones who got vulnerable during a scene. 

"Good job. Lay down, now," he ordered quietly. 

Ferdinand lay on his side, facing Hubert. 

"Lick your hand, pretty toy."

Ferdinand whined, but obeyed. 

"Now slide your fingers over your lovely cock. Yes, that's good, slow and light. Tease yourself."

Fingers trembling, Ferdinand followed his instructions, his flushed dick looking beautiful in such shy hands. He traced one finger up his length, then a light circle of them down. He kept that rhythm up a while before circling a thumb up to play near his foreskin. 

Alone, it wouldn't even be enough to keep himself hard. With Hubert watching, at Hubert's command, this fragment of sensation still managed to be overwhelming. 

"Eyes on me."

Ferdinand looked up from his own body to get trapped staring at Hubert's mouth.

"Feel how hard you are? How hot? Feel how just my voice can overwhelm you?"

"Yes, Sir." He sounded breathless. 

"Good. Now stop."

Ferdinand shuddered, clearly struggling to force his hand away. He succeeded, but his cock twitched at the lack of relief. Hubert couldn't help but smile. 

"Show me where on your upper body feels best to touch."

Ferdinand immediately honed in on his pecs, squeezing the muscle before pinching and rolling his nipples. 

"Have you ever experienced orgasm without touching your cock, Ferdinand?" 

"O-only once. I was. Fingering." This time, his sweet little stutter came about because he was panting. His cock leaked down onto his blankets. His sunrise-gold hair was coming loose again, haloing a pinkened face.

Hubert shifted in the chair. "Hm, good to know you're familiar with how men fuck."

Ferdinand squeezed at his chest again, raking his nails down the skin with a low whine and rolling his hips against nothing. 

"Someday we'll see about you cumming from only my fingers in your holes and my voice in your ear."

Ferdinand whimpered, and shook, and he was entirely too much.

"But for now, fuck your hand until you cum for me."

"Thank you thankyou th-thank youSir thh-ooh. Oh. Oh." 

Witnessing Ferdinand cum for the first time was transcendental. Hubert could barely catalog it all. Like how Ferdie couldn't keep his eyes open. How he lost himself in the motion. How his entire body convulsed. How his free hand tightly gripped his hair at the scalp. 

How he looked, covered in his own cum.

This was a sight Hubert would burn into his memory and jealously hoard all his life. 

It took Ferdinand at least 15 seconds to crack his eyes open again. 

"Sir," he whined, kind of beckoning and pawing towards Hubert in equal measure. 

Hubert chuckled, tossing Ferdinand a handkerchief. "Clean up a bit, and I'll be right there." Hubert didn't wait to see if Ferdinand obeyed; he would. So Hubert got his outer layers off, unbuttoning enough for comfort before laying down alongside a cleaner Ferdinand. The redhead snuggled into him insistently. Normally Hubert would be annoyed at such an impertinence before a scene was fully concluded, but for now he could only smile, and plot, and free Ferdinand's hair to play with it.

"Was that…?" Ferdinand started. 

Hubert waited a moment, but then: "You're going to need to finish that question to get an adequate response."

"Dididowell," Ferdinand said, almost too quiet to hear. 

"Try one more time for me. We just practiced speaking our thoughts. I'd hate to think you have so poor a memory." 

"Did I do well, Hubert? Was that everything you wanted? Was that… what a Submissive usually does?"

Hubert squeezed his arms tighter around Ferdinand for a moment. 

"Yes, Ferdinand. You did well. Perhaps that's not adequate to describe it, but you're the one with the talent for flowery metaphor. It was… very, very good, and I look forward to taking you down again as often as possible."

Ferdinand hid his face in Hubert's shoulder, but nodded rapidly. Hubert could feel the smile into his neck, and the tears. 

"You are not going to…leave, right?" Ferdinand mumbled into Hubert's shoulder. 

"I won't leave, short a national emergency. And even then, I would ensure you were taken care of."

"Thank you…I like that you do not lie to me. Our words are never empty that way."

Hubert's lip quirked. It was a rather new thing, for him. Another reason not to bond long-term with a Submissive: doing so healthily required more honesty than he was permitted or even cared for. But Ferdinand had clearance to know almost anything, and more importantly, Ferdinand could handle it.

"You did not reach completion," Ferdinand spoke with a note of regret, fingers trailing down Hubert's body, towards the evidence of his arousal.  

"I am most pleased already. You'll get a chance to help with that someday soon. Today I wanted to see you."

"You won't be uncomfortable?"

"I'm the most comfortable I've ever been. That will calm down on its own. You can rest." 

Ferdinand's breath slowed almost instantly. Hubert fussed over making sure the man's overly-soft blankets were properly covering him. 

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

Ferdinand shook his head and somehow managed to snuggle closer. Hubert might be in danger of suffocating, but in his most secret thoughts he suspected it would be worth it.

"Sleep, then, my good toy."

For one final time that night, Ferdinand obeyed–so no one was awake to see Hubert kiss Ferdinand's forehead. 

-

In the next campaign march north, Ferdinand was both better and worse than ever. 

Better, because he could fully focus on every task. He didn't have to constantly fight his own Nature and he wasn't fraying at the seams with every order he issued anymore. 

Worse because he found himself hugely preoccupied by Hubert. 

Where would the other man be in battle? Would he have backup? How soon could they meet again afterwards without raising suspicion? How could he know if Hubert was safe when he snuck off in the middle of the night?

And then, other questions: why hadn't Hubert taken him all the way yet? They'd shared plenty more scenes since their arrangement began nearly a month prior, but Ferdinand was hardly ever allowed to physically please Hubert, and he'd yet to be properly… well. Ferdinand wasn't one to use crass language when it could be avoided, but he wanted to know what it was like to be properly fucked. Or to fuck! Whichever way Hubert wanted. There were many ways they'd yet to explore each other's bodies. 

After the adrenaline of surviving another battle waned, anyone's risk of subdrop was higher. Hubert had helped him identify his signs and triggers and find coping mechanisms that worked. The best one, though, was the presence of his Dom, alive and well by his side–so he went looking.

He found him in the Emperor's tent, debriefing the battle with the other generals. Ferdinand took his place among them, reporting from the far flank where he'd led the pincer charge. 

It would have been impossible without Hubert's dark mage engineers dismantling the fortifications in their way. He just wanted to be caged against Hubert's chest, close under his chin where they could feel each other's breath and smell the other's body and know that they were still alive. He wanted to thank Hubert for working to ensure the cavalry had the best chance possible. He'd taken no casualties, a rarity due in part to Hubert using the enemy's traps against them. 

Ferdinand wanted to be tied up, stripped of all command, and be made to thank his Dom properly. 

"May I speak with you privately, von Aegir?" Hubert's voice floated out of the aether, bringing Ferdinand back to the reality of a cold and dirty war camp. 

"Of course," he replied automatically. 

"Actually," Edelgard said, "We should all take a break. Eat and wash up. We'll have more to discuss once the scouts and healers have had a few hours to do their work. Let us reconvene after dinner."

There were various grumbled affirmations from the assembled officers, who all left quickly to tend to themselves or their soldiers. 

Ferdinand followed Hubert to his tent, directly next to the Emperor's. Hubert closed the door-flaps and shifted his fingers to spark a lamp. 

"Come here," Hubert said in his deepest register. 

Ferdinand fell into his hug. Hubert gripped the back of his neck, just as the redhead been fantasizing about. The last tension he'd been holding onto released. 

They stood in silence, leaning on each other. Breathing and nothing else. 

After a time, Hubert said quietly, "It is dangerous for us to fight alongside each other."

"It would be worse for us to fight apart, Sir."

"...I must concede the point, Minister."

"Would that I could lay beside you tonight."

"Soon."

"Can I…" 

"Hmm?"

"Nevermind."

"Ferdinand." Hubert glowered down at him. 

"Can I kiss you?"

Hubert's mouth fell slightly open. Despite everything they had shared so far, a kiss on the lips was brand new. It signified something different than a strict D/s partnership. Kissing happened in love-matches, not business arrangements.

"Yes," Hubert whispered, and for a moment, everything about their army camp faded away. There was no smell or taste or feeling or sight besides each other; no sounds but the tiny gasps and moans and the rustle of fabric. Ferdinand had tasted Hubert's skin before, yet somehow this was revolutionary. With Hubert's hand over his neck and his lips' caress, Ferdinand felt… at home. 

He pulled away slightly to murmur, "I'll go under for you at this rate."

Hubert bit back the automatic 'thank you for telling me,' knowing Ferdinand's mind would associate that with the habitual 'good toy' that came after it. That would be counterproductive. Instead, he just nodded, and leaned back enough that they weren't breathing the exact same air. 

As much as he wanted Ferdinand insensate and shameless in utter submission to him, this was not the time. The adrenaline crash was surely incoming, they needed to be ready at a moment's notice, and there was too much risk of discovery in this blasted, crowded camp. 

"I can give you this, sweet toy. I want you to touch yourself every night until we're back in the fort. But I don't want you to cum until we are together again. Can you do that for me?"

Ferdinand just moaned, long and low, into his ear. 

"You won't misbehave, I trust?"

He shook his head. 

"That's good. Now, go back to your tent. Wash up and get started for me."

Ferdinand nodded enthusiastically.

"I'll see you in her Majesty's tent after dinner. And only I'll know exactly what you've been doing," Hubert said with a smirk. 

Ferdinand kissed him goodbye and nearly skipped off. 

Hubert could feel himself blush. And he cursed himself; how dare he be the one flustered?

-

They could not get back to Arianrhod too soon. However, even when they got there, it wasn't enough. Their estrangement lasted another two miserable days. 

As some of the most powerful men in Adrestia, they didn't have much downtime. The entire first day back was devoted to more logistics. New training schedules had to be made as tactics were adjusted; supplies had to be inventoried and properly distributed; letters penned; updates shared; spies consulted; and the list went on. 

This much stress without a release put everyone in danger. Hubert could see Ferdinand's exhaustion and, frankly, felt some himself. Far too much was out of his control right now. A night where someone listened to him, even trusted and actually liked him, would be a relief. 

That wasn't what he communicated with Ferdinand. Hubert (like a hypocrite) wasn't quite ready to unpack that box of feelings. Instead, he told Ferdinand two days after their return, "I would like to discuss our current strategy with you, but there's much to do this afternoon. Would you be able to come to my rooms this evening?"

"Yes, I would be happy to!"

And true to form, there was much to do, so they parted ways before long.

-

Hubert's temporary rooms in Arianrhod were a far cry from Ferdinand's in Enbarr. The recaptured fortress was sparse and cool. The only personal touches in Hubert's space were booby traps and dirty coffee mugs. 

Ferdinand arrived at Hubert's door promptly, and didn't see much of it. The moment he stepped through the threshold, Hubert crowded him to kiss and bite his lip.

"I did not actually wish to discuss strategy," the taller man admitted. 

"Oh, thank the Goddess. I hoped not."

Hubert let out a small but genuine laugh. "Tell me, Ferdinand. Have you behaved?"

The man nodded, eager but mute.

"Tell me. Specifics, if you please."

"I, ah. I pleasured myself at least once a day. Admittedly, there were nights I was so exhausted I fell asleep immediately, so I took to fulfilling your orders when I awoke, too."

"Do you mean to tell me that Ferdinand von Aegir was edging every morning and evening just because I told him to?"

Ferdinand's face clashed terribly with his hair when he blushed. "Y-yes Sir. Does that not please you?"

"Relax. It pleases me very much. Not a single orgasm?"

Ferdinand looked down silently. Oh, that wouldn't do. 

"Tell me the truth." Hubert's voice had gone hard. 

"I did not reach completion on purpose. But there was one dream. It had you in it. And when I awoke, ah…"

"Your needy cock had made a mess just like a teenager discovering his own penis for the first time?"

"yessir."

"I didn't catch that."

Ferdinand swallowed and said, "Yes, Sir, that's what happened."

"Hmm. Well, you did break a rule. That must be corrected. But I can be a little lenient since it wasn't intentional. And because you were good and told me."

Ferdinand's shoulders drooped in relief. 

"Have you eaten? Bathed?"

"Yes on both counts."

"Then you are ready to submit to me?"

"Please."

"Remove your clothes, then. I want you seated on my bed."

"Yes, Sir." 

Hubert watched closely as Ferdinand lost every scrap of fabric. He was still bruised from the battle; Hubert would need to temper his punishment accordingly. 

Ferdinand tied his hair up, the leather cord having become a permanent fixture around his wrist. He sat rather primly and looked up for approval. 

Hubert smiled slightly, unbuttoning his outermost layers while staying close to covered. He half-knelt in front of Ferdinand, and then ran his hands down the knight's torso. 

"Wait. Cinnamon," Ferdinand said. 

Hubert paused, leaning back a bit and raising his brow. Ferdinand knew him well enough to see there was no irritation or condescension in his face, only patience and curiosity. 

"Something has been on my mind."

"Yes?"

Ferdinand hadn't fully considered this conversation. He just knew which thoughts were weighing on him and knew he needed to share such things to Be Good. 

"We have been physically entangled throughout this affair. It seemed to me that this was mutually enjoyable, but you hardly ever use me for your pleasure, and."

"And…?"

"I want that. If it is what you want. Sir."

Hubert narrowed his eyes. "When you say 'use you,' what do you mean?"

"I want you to fuck me. Or if you prefer the reverse, that is fine, too. We speak of it but barely gone near it in action. I simply find myself longing to be closer to you in that way. I want to give you pleasure."

Hubert had gone very still. 

"If you prefer not to, of course, we'll speak no more of it. I know this all began just to keep me functional and I don't expect more. But it was on your list, and I needed you to know before I'd be able to go under for you."

"This isn't just about giving you… maintenance. I do… enjoy this…too."

"Well, you could try not to sound so miserable about it."

Hubert's annoyance flared a bit. Ferdinand was naked on his bed, but absolutely the one in control of this conversation. Hubert had been ready to strip away Ferdinand's walls, not have his own cracked open. The Dominant side of him would not allow him to kneel for this (so much for swallowing down his sweet toy's cock to hear him mewl.) Hubert sat against the headboard, the farthest he could get while still on the same bed. 

"You've started kissing me. Now you long to be 'closer.' I fear you've imprinted and mistaken bodily urges for romantic intent."

Ferdinand looked doubly unimpressed. "I am not a duckling, Hubert. I know my own mind. I've got no energy to argue. I'd like to feel you inside me. Whether that happens, though, is ultimately up to you and your emotional hang-ups."

"My–!"

Hubert took a breath. 

"Ferdinand. I am going to be honest with you and I hope you appreciate that in this case it does not come naturally."

It was Ferdinand's turn, for once, to wait him out with a raised eyebrow.

Hubert braced himself. "I wanted to bring this up in a clearer state of mind. This is nothing like it ought to be, but…Fine, let me just show you." 

He rose explosively to stride across the room, fiddle with his desk, pull out an improbable number of weapons, and come back with a slim lacquer box. He handed it over silently. 

Anyone would know what such a box contained. It was the stuff of romance novels and international treaties. Nevertheless, Ferdinand was shocked when he opened it to reveal a simple brown leather collar. He looked up to see Hubert sat in the same spot he'd left moments before, folding his arms and not quite meeting Ferdinand's eyes. 

"It's not permanent. But I didn't want to continue much further without one. And I thought it might help, on difficult nights. It doesn't mean you have to."

"I would love to wear this for you."

Hubert's eyes focused properly again. "You need not feel beholden to me. I will give you whatever you need regardless."

Ferdinand scooted close enough to lean over and take Hubert's hand. "What if what I need is you to put this on me, right now?"

Hubert's eyes searched Ferdinand's face but could find no ounce of deception. 

"If you want that, I'd say you need to kneel for it properly."

Ferdinand slid off the bed like water.

"We'll talk about this with clear minds tomorrow," Hubert said with a ragged voice. Ferdinand wasn't sure which of them he was trying to order at this point. But then he felt the soft cool leather on his neck and couldn't focus on any questions anymore. 

Hubert slid the buckle into place and smoothed Ferdinand's hair out of the way. "I knew brown would look better against your skin," he said, and then his grip in Ferdinand's hair tightened. He leaned Ferdinand back at the neck so the redhead could distinctly feel the restriction against his throat. 

It happened very quickly. 

"Sir, I might cum," he gasped out, desperate to stay good. 

"It's alright if you do. Don't chase it or hold it back. Just let your body feel what it feels, tonight." Hubert trailed his knuckles up and down Ferdie's neck. Ferdinand had never before felt so much. 

"You've done well for me," Hubert murmured. 

Ferdinand couldn't hold back anymore. The heat and pleasure hit him in wave after wave, rippling between body and soul until he was floating somewhere between both. Everything was the pressure on his neck. Everything was Hubert, and he was Hubert's, and he was Everything. 

He curled his face into Hubert's lap, leaning into the touches that guided him to relax there. 

"What a perfect boy you are," Hubert said, and in Ferdinand's fuzzy mind he realized he'd never heard Hubert's voice quite like that. He vaguely wanted to look up at the other man, but he felt mellow and pliant and he would do that later, whenever Hubert said. For now he was already perfect. 

They rested that way for a while. It was a few minutes, although Ferdinand had lost all sense of time. He floated, tethered only by his collar which was Hubert's because he was Hubert's and that felt like flying. 

Hubert, for his part, was choking on his emotions. Between his legs knelt this incredible man. He'd cum at the first sensation of Hubert's ownership. He deserved every good thing in the world and Hubert felt suddenly, fiercely certain he'd kill anyone who got in the way of Ferdinand's happiness. The man nuzzled his thigh, prompting Hubert to stroke his hair.

"Let me see your face."

Ferdinand looked up and he was a wreck: glassy, unfocused eyes; a lax, sweat-lined face; wet mouth hanging open slightly. In other circumstances, Hubert would suspect poison. 

"I promised to punish my good toy for cumming out of turn. But I think something a little different is in order."

Ferdinand's eyes lit up.

"You want my cock so badly? You need to obey so much? I'm going to overwhelm you with pleasure. I'm going to learn your body better than you know it yourself. I'm going to make you feel incredible for so long that you'll forget how to feel good without me. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Ferdinand nodded eagerly. 

"Good. Now, take off my clothes."

Ferdinand worked efficiently–no art or teasing tonight. They'd gotten better at figuring out each other's attire, especially as it pertained to taking it off.

Once they were both naked, Hubert took Ferdinand's hand and gently pulled him up to a straddling position. He explored his toy's body, appreciating every contour as he noted again the locations of scrapes and bruises to avoid. 

Ferdinand's cock was stirring already. Hubert could feel the twitching against his own aching erection. 

Hubert fished the oil out from the pillows. Coating his hand, he started with a few lazy pumps of Ferdinand's half-hard manhood. Then, he dipped behind to the furled hole waiting for him. 

Ferdinand's breath was already dangerously short. "Breathe, pet," Hubert muttered as he spread the oil across Ferdinand's most sensitive skin. He massaged circles around his hole, teasing until Ferdinand trembled. He kept enjoying the desperate little gasps almost to the point of cruelty, and only then did he slip a fingertip inside. 

Ferdinand tried to sink backwards eagerly, only to be stopped by a firm tug on his hair. "None of that, now. I'll decide when you get what you need."

Words already felt far away in Ferdinand's mind. He keened instead. Hubert teased one finger inside him, then another. More oil. More filthy praise. More stretching. But nothing was enough. 

Finally, finally, finally, Hubert withdrew his fingers, wiping them on an unlucky corner of sheet and pulling Ferdinand down into a long, deep kiss. Breathless, he lined their bodies up. 

"Sink down on me, pet. Take care not to hurt what's mine."

Hubert's eyes danced between his collar and his Sub's reverent gaze. Ferdinand adjusted his legs for balance, and then leaned back and down. 

When the head of Hubert's cock popped past that ring of muscle, they both paused. Ferdinand's eyes, which had been locked on their joining flesh, flickered back up.

Hubert's expression bore an amazement that Ferdinand suspected mirrored his own. After a long moment searching Hubert's eyes, Ferdinand continued his slow descent. It felt ridiculously good, just from knowing what the heat and pressure inside himself was. He imagined he could feel every millimeter of skin individually impaling him. After a long, beautiful moment, Ferdinand's ass rested on Hubert's thighs. He was as deep as deep could get. His Sir looked up again and gave a somehow broken-looking smile. 

"I'm inside you, pretty toy. How does that feel?"

"So… so good. Hot. Full. This is… I'm perfect. It's perfect."

Hubert hooked a finger under the collar, tugging Ferdinand closer to kiss him. 

"That's right," Hubert said as they broke apart wetly, "This is where you belong."

And then, finally, blessedly, Hubert moved. He guided Ferdinand's hips slowly, supplementing with rolls of his own. Every moment felt brighter and tighter and hotter and needier. Time itself seemed to stretch out like honey from a spoon. The pleasure was more intense for its slow build, but eventually they found themselves helplessly speeding up. 

Hubert grabbed Ferdinand's jaw where it had tipped towards the ceiling. "Look at me while I'm fucking you."

Ferdinand's eyes opened, glazed and wet. He clutched at Hubert's shoulders to stay upright. With every thrust, Hubert dragged along that perfect bundle of nerves.

"Ferdinand… someday… going to collar you for real. Let the world see. Put you in Vestra colors and show them all. Keep you–own you."

"Please! Gonna… again."

"Good. You know your orders. Cum whenever you need to, sweet toy. As long as you scream for me. It makes it feel better."

Ferdinand obeyed. 

-

In the months following the war, the social order changed.

Ferdinand von Aegir–war hero, Prime Minister, beloved Jewel of the Empire–revealed his Nature to the world. 

A more perfect role model couldn’t have been hand-picked. No complaints against him were taken seriously. 

The issue that plagued him, then, was people speculating over who fulfilled his needs. For some reason people felt more entitled to know when he was a Sub than when they'd thought him a Dom. No matter, it was child's play to outtalk them. 

Of course, it wasn't until the shadow war was over that Hubert would allow him to wear a ring or collar visible in public. 

Ferdinand didn’t mind. He knew who he was, and who he belonged to. And who belonged to him in turn.