#congrats anon! first time dimitri has been tagged on this blog!

[huberts-private-counsel-archive]

can i request hcs for a guilty rarepair of mine? specifically angst headcanons for hubert/dimitri?

Anon, I do hope you realize what you’ve done here. You just asked me for angst for a ship...and did not give me any hard limits. And the last time that happened, Ferdibert got completely destroyed. Time to do the same to this ship I say, since you didn’t give me any limits :)

As for the route...let’s go with Verdant Wind, shall we?

Edit: putting this under a read more because this is like...almost 2k words dfjhsdjh i went OFF

Truth be told, the news of Dimitri’s execution hit Hubert much harder than he thought it would. After all, he had made the choice to abandon him in order to serve Lady Edelgard. No matter their relations at the Academy, Hubert thought he would’ve been able to shrug off his attachments easily. Yet when it was made public that Dimitri had been executed - for a crime Hubert knew he didn’t commit, no less - he still found himself mourning the prince. No, not just mourning. Grieving.

It was absolutely ridiculous, Hubert told himself each time he found himself thinking back to what had once been (and what could have been, had he chosen to stay with his heart than follow his duty). Yet time and time again, he’d find his thoughts caught on Dimitri before said thoughts sent him down a spiral of “what-ifs”.

And then came the battle at Grondor.

Admittedly, Hubert had felt his heart soaring when he realized that it truly was Dimitri across the field they had fought on five years ago. He couldn’t deny the ghost of a smile that wanted to appear on his face realizing Dimitri had survived. Of course, he chased it away before Lady Edelgard could see 

Then he actually encountered Dimitri, and any levity that had been left in his heart completely vanished. Because even if the being before him looked and sounded like Dimitri, even shared his name...it just couldn’t be him.

The Dimitri of the Academy had been kind. Even if there had been blood staining his hands, even if there had been ghosts following him, he had at least been attempting to wash it off and keep pressing forward (unlike Hubert, who merely let his hands grow more and more stained, allowed more and more ghosts to join his ranks, anything for Lady Edelgard’s cause). The Dimitri of the Academy often had a soft smile on his face, his blue eyes somehow radiating warmth whenever he spoke. It was enough that Hubert had found himself being drawn in five years ago, a moment of weakness that Hubert was selfish enough to indulge himself in.

The Dimitri in front of him could not be the Dimitri he had known five years ago. 

The Dimitri in front of him was missing an eye, the missing one covered by an eyepatch while the one remaining was an icy blue, missing all of the warmth of their school days. The Dimitri in front of him was drenched in blood, ghosts practically nipping at his heels. The Dimitri in front of him did not smile, a hate-filled snarl instead marring his face. 

The Dimitri in front of him did not recognize who he was. All the Dimitri in front of him cared about was revenge.

Idly, Hubert wondered if he could have prevented Dimitri from falling to this fate. If, just if, he had chosen to remain by Dimitri’s side, could he have prevented Dimitri from falling so far? Kept him from being consumed by his ghosts until they were all that drove him? 

He heard the call for them all to retreat. Perhaps he should have stayed closer to Lady Edelgard, but he had to see Dimitri - this is not Dimitri, his mind tried to remind him, but Hubert found himself ignoring it - for himself, perhaps try and convince him to stand down.

Instead, now he was the one retreating. The heavy armored steps behind him told him that Dimitri was following. No, no Dimitri was already injured as is, if he tried to follow, he would just get himself killed (and even if that would be better for Lady Edelgard’s cause, a stupidly selfish part of Hubert still wanted to save what was left of the man he had fallen in love with all those years ago).

So he stopped where he stood, whirling around to face Dimitri as the former prince (would he have been a king by now? Hubert can’t help but wonder) staggers up, Hero’s Relic clutched tightly in his hand.

“Wretched rat,” Dimitri (not Dimitri, not Dimitri, his mind continues to say, perhaps trying to save his heart any more pain) nearly growls out, “get out of my way. Unless you want me to tear the head from your shoulders as well?”

Hubert wasn’t sure if Dimitri truly didn’t recognize him, or if the hate clouding his thoughts had been enough to completely change his view of Hubert. He wasn’t sure which one he’d rather have be the truth.

“Dimitri, you’re injured. If you stand down and retreat, I will allow you to go with your life.” What was he doing? Hubert knew, knew he should be killing Dimitri now while he had the chance, but...

But Hubert was only human. And every human had a weakness. Hubert’s happened to go by the name of Dimitri. He prayed that Dimitri would listen to reason, that he would simply retreat and Hubert wouldn’t have to end the life of the man he loved (and still does, damn his pathetically weak heart).

Unfortunately, Dimitri didn’t. And he lunged towards Hubert, a roar erupting from his throat as he raised his Hero’s Relic and Hubert readied a spell, but he wasn’t even sure if he could cast it in time (that was a lie, Hubert knew perfectly well he had only gotten faster in spell-casting since their days at the Academy, he would be able to hit Dimitri before Dimitri could ever hit him)-

And suddenly Dimitri let out a gasp of pain, suddenly pausing in his charge as he winced. Hubert felt confused, until he saw the shaft of a lance sticking out of the back of Dimitri.

Ambush.

Considering he hadn’t been skewered through yet, while lances and arrows alike continued to pierce through Dimitri’s armor (not Dimitri, not Dimitri) as the man tried to keep himself standing by using his Relic, Hubert could only conclude that these were Imperial soldiers. His legs eventually buckled beneath him, and Dimitri fell to the floor.

There was a cold weight in Hubert’s stomach. 

Imperial soldiers did come out of hiding, some cheering about having taken down Dimitri. One of them even pats Hubert on the shoulder, thanking him for being there as bait for him. Hubert barely feels himself nodding. His whole body feels numb, his mind a complete and utter storm.

Quietly, he hears himself tell the soldiers that he will take care of the body. And none of the soldiers are eager to stick around - not even a minute later, all of them are gone. Hubert approaches Dimitri’s - not Dimitri’s - body, intending to at least give him a proper burial, when suddenly he moves.

Hubert startles, his eye widening as Dimitri lifts his head up from the dirt, a heavy haze present in his gaze as he weakly calls out -

“H...Hubert...?”

Dimitri.

Hubert knelt down in the dirt beside him, carefully lifting Dimitri up so that they could face each other. Dimitri shouldn’t even be alive right now, it was impossible, no one could survive that many lances and arrows piercing their body (and Hubert knew he wouldn’t, he would succumb to them soon, sooner if Hubert tried to remove any of them). And yet Dimitri was staring at him, Hubert feeling something in his heart stir at the familiarity of his gaze.

The Dimitri from the Academy wasn’t gone after all. 

“D-Dimitri, I-” Hubert wasn’t even sure what he had been about to say, maybe an apology or even questioning if it really is him when Dimitri began speaking again, effectively silencing him.

“I-I...I’m sorry..I couldn’t r-recognize..you..” Dimitri said quietly, and Hubert had to force down the hysterical laughter. Of course the first thing he said was an apology.

“You shouldn’t be apologizing, where’s your base, I-”

“H-Hubert...y-you of all p-people...should know...” a weak laugh came from Dimitri, one that pulled at Hubert’s heart and had him blinking back tears.

Hubert couldn’t find it in him to speak. A surprising amount of his effort was going into trying to keep his tears at bay.

“I-I’m...’m so s-sorry beloved...” and there it was, that damned pet name that Dimitri had used back at the Academy, the one that never failed to set Hubert’s heart on fire - not until now, where the only thing it did was weigh it down, “...that I-I have...have to l-leave you l-like this...”

Hubert opens his mouth, intending to tell Dimitri he is indeed a fool for allowing himself to die like this (and how Hubert was an even bigger fool for allowing this to happen). All that comes out is a choked sob. 

“P-Please...” Hubert feels Dimitri’s hand raise up to his cheek, and Hubert can’t stop himself from clutching at it like a lifeline. Dimitri coughs, one wet with blood that Hubert wished he could erase from his mind as soon as he hears it. “P-Promise me...something..”

“What is it?”

“Don’t...don’t let me h-haunt you...y-you don’t...” Another cough. “You don’t d-deserve to b-be...be haunted, like t-this...”

“I...I promise.” The lie tastes bitter on his tongue, but the grateful smile Dimitri gives him only makes it more bitter.

“T-Thank you...I...love you...” 

The words are almost whispered, then Dimitri is slumping against Hubert, finally going still. Hubert can only stare at where Dimitri had been just moments ago, before a hysterical sob claws its way out of his throat.

“I-I love you too, y-you fool,” he chokes out, but really, aren’t they both fools for letting this happen to them? And he stays there for as long as he dares, holding Dimitri’s rapidly cooling body before creating a makeshift grave, marking the grave with some stones and a wildflower before heading back to Lady Edelgard, trying not to think about the fact that Dimitri’s blood is now staining his hands as well.

(Later, when Hilda returns to Claude and the professor to report that Dimitri has died, she chooses to leave out the more private parts of their conversation. It was clearly a moment meant for the two of them to be alone, and she was intruding enough as it was. She did admit that Dimitri regained his mind in his final moments, but that was all she would say.)

Later, when Lady Edelgard asks about what took him so long, Hubert simply tells her that he had to take care of unfinished business, but the former king of Faerghus is dead and buried. He tries to ignore the sinking feeling when Lady Edelgard smiles and tells him that she’s grateful to him for what he’s done.

He goes to his office, trying to ignore how Dimitri's blood is staining his hands now. Trying to ignore how Dimitri has joined the legion of ghosts that haunt him, except his ghost is the loudest in its cries for justice and how could you.

Later, when he’s felled in Enbarr, he finds himself staring up at the sky. He almost wants to laugh. Perhaps - no, this is what he deserves for allowing Dimitri to die like he did. This is his karma. He closes his eye, choking on his own blood as he wonders if Dimitri will continue to haunt and berate him even in the afterlife.

It isn’t as though he doesn’t deserve it. Not for what he’s done.

(When Hubert opens his eye again, it’s face-to-face with Dimitri. He waits, expecting Dimitri to ask him again why he let him die, or why he hadn’t stayed with him to begin with, when Dimitri - a surprisingly weak smile where Hubert expected anger if not hatred - suddenly pulls him into a tight hug, To say Hubert is startled would be an understatement - even still, he waits for Dimitri to say something, anything to break this illusion of a remotely pleasant reunion.

Dimitri doesn’t say anything Hubert predicted him to. 

All Dimitri says - with warmth and guilt and even more so love present in his voice - is, “Welcome home love.” 

And Hubert can’t stop himself from hugging back, trying not to choke on his sobs as he thinks about how he’ll never let Dimitri go again - he refuses to repeat his past mistakes. Not now, not ever again.)