[While Ferdinand has always been in love with the concept of soulmates, Linhardt has not. The whole idea seems rather bothersome and restrictive, especially since most people assume soulmates to be romantic. That's not necessarily the case, but it is meant to be a "deep connection". Linhardt's not a fan of any kind of deep connection being forced upon him, especially when connections with normal people already take so much effort (he'd gotten very lucky with caspar. that connection hadn't taken much nurturing at all and, if he's honest, he was more surprised to find out caspar wasn't his soulmate). And what if he doesn't even get along with his soulmate?
That's what he's expecting to happen anyway since he is well aware of who his soulmate is. There's no mystery to the "Greetings! My name is Ferdinand von Aegir - what is your name?" that stares him in the face any time he's changing clothes with a mirror nearby. It's across his heart in neat, cursive handwriting. His soulmate's name is Ferdinand von Aegir and anyone residing within the Empire with ears and half a brain cell knows who the Aegir family is.
Duke Aegir is the prime minister and he is not a good man. Linhardt has never met the man personally, but his father doesn't have much good to say about him. What had he called him? A weasel? Eh, it didn't matter. The Duke isn't his soulmate, clearly, it's his son. What Linhardt has heard about his son isn't much better, though he has to take it with a grain of salt when it comes from Caspar (who is better acquainted with the family because their territories are closer.)
Ferdinand sounds like a handful, and Linhardt is resigned to disliking the boy even before meeting him. Well, maybe not dislike per say, but he envisions a lot of him avoiding the most noble of nobles to come while they're at the academy. He doubles down on his preconception upon hearing said boy cheerfully introducing himself to the entire class (who does that??). He doesn't seem like a bad person, like the miserable grumblings of his father, and he's handsome at least. He's got a nice smile.
But he's definitely got an energy about him that Linhardt does not want to deal with at the moment.
He glances at the entry way to the Blank Eagles classroom. No, he'd never hear the end of it if he tried to bail on the first day. His glance falls on Caspar next. Why had he even left his side?]
Linhardt. Good bye. [And he attempts to make his escape.]
[ Ferdinand's eyes go wide, and before he can think the better of it, he moves to block Linhardt's retreat. ]
Wait a moment! [ ... and then his brain catches up to him and oh goddess is this it? Is this how he's meeting his soulmate??? Though he supposes he'll have to get the actual question out first. ] Are you perhaps- [ He holds up a finger - a silent "hold on for just a second, if you would" - before pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket.
Written on the paper, in a near perfect replication of Linhardt's handwriting, are the words on Ferdinand's wrist. (before leaving aegir territory for his year at the academy, he spent a large chunk of time staring at his mark. memorizing every curve, every break between the letters, so that he may copy it for reference. not that it's in a particularly... improper place on his body, but he figures this is more convenient than tugging the stiff sleeves of his uniform far enough down to show off the script. a noble has to look the part at all times, after all!) ] Is this, by chance, your handwriting? Of course, it is a mere copy, but I do believe it should prove sufficient for identification purposes.
[Linhardt is not at all surprised that Ferdinand is the type to get swept up in the notion of soulmates. But to copy his handwriting... Has he been looking for him?]
Nope, not mine. [He says it easy.] I don't know how to write in cursive. [Which isn't a lie because what Ferdinand's got scrawled on paper... is not proper cursive. It's a weird combination of cursive and plain script that easy for Linhardt to write when he's in a hurry.] Can I go now?
Oh! [ If he's disappointed at all (which he is. a little.) he tries not to show it. ]
Yes, I will get out of your way. My apologies for keeping you, Linhardt. [ He steps aside without protest. ] I look forward to getting to know you better throughout the school year!
[ And, indeed, he does. With patience, persistence, and invitations to tea (who would've thought they both like almyran pine needles?), Ferdinand finds after a few weeks Linhardt starts opening up to him. It's little admissions here and there - things like how he and Caspar have been friends since they were kids, and that he gets nauseous around blood - but Ferdinand cherishes what he chooses to tell him (their budding friendship) all the same.
Months pass - spring blooms into summer, then melts into fall, and Ferdinand forgets the bit of drama (?) that cropped up with their initial meeting. He doesn't think of soulmates and focuses solely on his schoolwork, training, and besting Edelgard... until the day he volunteers to help Byleth grade exams. Of course, he's not allowed to work on his own, so he's given a few of the other students's to work on. Linhardt's happens to be in his pile, and Ferdinand can't help but notice his handwriting. Strange. It's a combination of cursive and plain script, just... like....................
oh.
OH.
Immediately after finishing his portions of the exams (and after profusely apologizing for his out-of-the-blue outburst: HE LIED TO ME) he makes a beeline to Linhardt's room. Truthfully, he's not sure where Linhardt's at (probably napping) at the moment, but his room's as good of a place as any to start.
Ferdinand knocks on the door insistently. ] Linhardt? I need to speak with you.
[As it turns out, being friends with Ferdinand is easy. He's eager and ambitious, and has too much energy for one person, but he more or less lets Linhardt be. Sure, he sometimes needles him about training more but Linhardt doesn't find it as annoying as he thought he would. The time he spends with Ferdinand quietly working together on assignments or sipping their favorite tea greatly outweighs the pestering. He feels similarly to how he feels with Caspar. It's nice to have another person like that. And Linhardt honestly forgets their initial meeting even happened, too. It's like it never happened. It's like they've known each other forever, far beyond that point in time.
Currently, though, Linhardt is not actually napping when Ferdinand comes knocking at his door. He's nose deep in a Crestology book that Professor Hanneman recommended and the knocking almost startles him to whiplash.
Normally this is is when his tired sass would kick in. He really doesn't appreciate being startled like that and he especially doesn't appreciate Ferdinand being so loud. But Ferdinand sounds like he actually needs to talk him, rather than just wanting to talk to him.
The look on Ferdinand's face shuts him down even further. Oof. He's actually fussed about something.] What is it?
[ "Fussed" is a way of putting it. Honestly, he hasn't been this upset with Linhardt since... actually, never. Even when he'd trick him to get out of training, Ferdinand wouldn't feel heartbroken or betrayed like he does now.
Given that he wears his heart on his sleeve, Linhardt can no doubt see all of this in his eyes. ] May I come in? I would prefer not to speak about this where others may overhear. [ Not that he thinks Petra would gossip. Petra is a good person. But Dorothea.............
Once they're inside, Ferdinand wastes no time and begins to speak. ] I was helping the professor grade our latest exams - you passed with flying colors, by the way - and I couldn't help but notice something.
[ He peels off his right glove and tugs down his sleeve, revealing the soulmate mark on his wrist. ] I was the one to grade your exam in particular, and I can now say without a doubt that this is your handwriting.
You, Linhardt, are my soulmate - and I suspect you knew it from the start. After all, when we met, I introduced myself to you with my full name. [ He meets Linhardt's eye with a look akin to a kicked puppy. ] Tell me - when I asked you back then if you were my soulmate, why did you try to convince me otherwise?
[Distantly, in the back of his mind, Linhardt is pleased because he'd been wondering where his name was on Ferdinand's body. At the front of his mind, however, he is... well. At a loss, to be honest. Somehow he hadn't anticipated this. He'd forgotten their first exchange had even happened: the thought of soulmates was long and gone from his mind. The fact that he had lied to Ferdinand was long and gone from his mind.
It's impossible, but seeing Ferdinand this upset because of something that he did makes it feel like his soulmates words are burning on his chest.] I don't know if I convinced you so much as... [He trails off because any sort of defensiveness is telling and not what Ferdinand, whom Linhardt has come to care for very much, deserves.]
I didn't know who you were. [As a person.] And I have no interest in soulmates.
[ Ferdinand considers Linhardt's words. His feelings. It's true that he knows Linhardt (his soulmate) better now than before - and it's true that his admission ("I have no interest in soulmates") makes sense, based on who he is as a person. ]
I do understand. However... [ Ferdinand's shoulders sag. ] I wish you had given me a chance, instead of resorting to deception. [ "Deception" feels like a bit of a heavy word, honestly, but he's not sure how else to say it. ]
I did give you a chance. I've been giving you a chance. Haven't we gotten to know each other since then? [He's well aware thats not exactly what Ferdinand means but his point is still valid.] Being soulmates didn't make a difference.
[ Ferdinand blinks, light slowly returning to his eyes. He... does have a point there. ] That is true. Had you truly not wanted anything to do with me, your soulmate, we wouldn't be standing here now. [ Linhardt willingly let him into his life, after all. It's something Ferdinand never took for granted, but now even more so. ]
But I must know - are you still bothered by me being your soulmate? Do not be afraid to be honest with me.
[ Gone is all the sadness - he straightens up, snapping to his full just-a-little-shorter-than-Linhardt height. ]
You do? [ The question leaves his lips without thought, but he knows it's true. ] I really like you, too, Linhardt. Truly, I cherish our friendship, and am overjoyed to be connected with you in this way!
Yes! All is forgiven. [ And though he's keenly aware that he's interrupted Linhardt's reading - he sees the open book on his desk and connects two and two together - he still... wants to ask Linhardt something potentially bold. ]
But if I may - can I... hold you? Just for a moment.
[That hug. Is entirely too warm, firm, and secure. Linhardt could melt. Or rather, he could fall asleep if they stay like this for too long. Ferdinand wraps around him like a warm blanket...
Linhardt's eyelids start to droop even as he returns Ferdinand's embrace. He leans his chin on Ferdinand's shoulder.] On second thought, I may not be conscious enough to look at your wrist. [His voice is heavy with sleepiness.]
[ How... cute? Is he allowed to think his soulmate's cute?
Ferdinand chuckles, patting Linhardt on the back. ] Then, another time! I will let you rest for now. [ Though a little reluctant to let him go, Ferdinand releases his hold as soon as he lets him. ]
But, if you would like, you may come by my room later to take a look at my wrist! I will also prepare tea for us.
Sounds good to me... I'm so tired all of a sudden. [Ferdinand releases him and Linhardt loosens his hold, but does not lift from his shoulder.
Why is he so tired now anyway? Emotional whiplash? Exhaustion from finally have to deal with the consequences of his actions?
Linhardt has all the time in the world to think about that now that he has whole future with Ferdinand ahead of him. And he doesn't mind the thought of that at all.]
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That's what he's expecting to happen anyway since he is well aware of who his soulmate is. There's no mystery to the "Greetings! My name is Ferdinand von Aegir - what is your name?" that stares him in the face any time he's changing clothes with a mirror nearby. It's across his heart in neat, cursive handwriting. His soulmate's name is Ferdinand von Aegir and anyone residing within the Empire with ears and half a brain cell knows who the Aegir family is.
Duke Aegir is the prime minister and he is not a good man. Linhardt has never met the man personally, but his father doesn't have much good to say about him. What had he called him? A weasel? Eh, it didn't matter. The Duke isn't his soulmate, clearly, it's his son. What Linhardt has heard about his son isn't much better, though he has to take it with a grain of salt when it comes from Caspar (who is better acquainted with the family because their territories are closer.)
Ferdinand sounds like a handful, and Linhardt is resigned to disliking the boy even before meeting him. Well, maybe not dislike per say, but he envisions a lot of him avoiding the most noble of nobles to come while they're at the academy. He doubles down on his preconception upon hearing said boy cheerfully introducing himself to the entire class (who does that??). He doesn't seem like a bad person, like the miserable grumblings of his father, and he's handsome at least. He's got a nice smile.
But he's definitely got an energy about him that Linhardt does not want to deal with at the moment.
He glances at the entry way to the Blank Eagles classroom. No, he'd never hear the end of it if he tried to bail on the first day. His glance falls on Caspar next. Why had he even left his side?]
Linhardt. Good bye. [And he attempts to make his escape.]
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Wait a moment! [ ... and then his brain catches up to him and oh goddess is this it? Is this how he's meeting his soulmate??? Though he supposes he'll have to get the actual question out first. ] Are you perhaps- [ He holds up a finger - a silent "hold on for just a second, if you would" - before pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket.
Written on the paper, in a near perfect replication of Linhardt's handwriting, are the words on Ferdinand's wrist. (before leaving aegir territory for his year at the academy, he spent a large chunk of time staring at his mark. memorizing every curve, every break between the letters, so that he may copy it for reference. not that it's in a particularly... improper place on his body, but he figures this is more convenient than tugging the stiff sleeves of his uniform far enough down to show off the script. a noble has to look the part at all times, after all!) ] Is this, by chance, your handwriting? Of course, it is a mere copy, but I do believe it should prove sufficient for identification purposes.
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Nope, not mine. [He says it easy.] I don't know how to write in cursive. [Which isn't a lie because what Ferdinand's got scrawled on paper... is not proper cursive. It's a weird combination of cursive and plain script that easy for Linhardt to write when he's in a hurry.] Can I go now?
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Yes, I will get out of your way. My apologies for keeping you, Linhardt. [ He steps aside without protest. ] I look forward to getting to know you better throughout the school year!
[ And, indeed, he does. With patience, persistence, and invitations to tea (who would've thought they both like almyran pine needles?), Ferdinand finds after a few weeks Linhardt starts opening up to him. It's little admissions here and there - things like how he and Caspar have been friends since they were kids, and that he gets nauseous around blood - but Ferdinand cherishes what he chooses to tell him (their budding friendship) all the same.
Months pass - spring blooms into summer, then melts into fall, and Ferdinand forgets the bit of drama (?) that cropped up with their initial meeting. He doesn't think of soulmates and focuses solely on his schoolwork, training, and besting Edelgard... until the day he volunteers to help Byleth grade exams. Of course, he's not allowed to work on his own, so he's given a few of the other students's to work on. Linhardt's happens to be in his pile, and Ferdinand can't help but notice his handwriting. Strange. It's a combination of cursive and plain script, just... like....................
oh.
OH.
Immediately after finishing his portions of the exams (and after profusely apologizing for his out-of-the-blue outburst: HE LIED TO ME) he makes a beeline to Linhardt's room. Truthfully, he's not sure where Linhardt's at (probably napping) at the moment, but his room's as good of a place as any to start.
Ferdinand knocks on the door insistently. ] Linhardt? I need to speak with you.
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Currently, though, Linhardt is not actually napping when Ferdinand comes knocking at his door. He's nose deep in a Crestology book that Professor Hanneman recommended and the knocking almost startles him to whiplash.
Normally this is is when his tired sass would kick in. He really doesn't appreciate being startled like that and he especially doesn't appreciate Ferdinand being so loud. But Ferdinand sounds like he actually needs to talk him, rather than just wanting to talk to him.
The look on Ferdinand's face shuts him down even further. Oof. He's actually fussed about something.] What is it?
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Given that he wears his heart on his sleeve, Linhardt can no doubt see all of this in his eyes. ] May I come in? I would prefer not to speak about this where others may overhear. [ Not that he thinks Petra would gossip. Petra is a good person. But Dorothea.............
Once they're inside, Ferdinand wastes no time and begins to speak. ] I was helping the professor grade our latest exams - you passed with flying colors, by the way - and I couldn't help but notice something.
[ He peels off his right glove and tugs down his sleeve, revealing the soulmate mark on his wrist. ] I was the one to grade your exam in particular, and I can now say without a doubt that this is your handwriting.
You, Linhardt, are my soulmate - and I suspect you knew it from the start. After all, when we met, I introduced myself to you with my full name. [ He meets Linhardt's eye with a look akin to a kicked puppy. ] Tell me - when I asked you back then if you were my soulmate, why did you try to convince me otherwise?
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It's impossible, but seeing Ferdinand this upset because of something that he did makes it feel like his soulmates words are burning on his chest.] I don't know if I convinced you so much as... [He trails off because any sort of defensiveness is telling and not what Ferdinand, whom Linhardt has come to care for very much, deserves.]
I didn't know who you were. [As a person.] And I have no interest in soulmates.
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I do understand. However... [ Ferdinand's shoulders sag. ] I wish you had given me a chance, instead of resorting to deception. [ "Deception" feels like a bit of a heavy word, honestly, but he's not sure how else to say it. ]
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But I must know - are you still bothered by me being your soulmate? Do not be afraid to be honest with me.
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You do? [ The question leaves his lips without thought, but he knows it's true. ] I really like you, too, Linhardt. Truly, I cherish our friendship, and am overjoyed to be connected with you in this way!
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You're really one-of-a-kind, Ferdinand. [A small, humorous shake of his head.] All is forgiven, then?
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But if I may - can I... hold you? Just for a moment.
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Only if I can get a better look at your wrist.
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[ But first, that hug. Ferdinand wraps his arms around Linhardt and squeezes. His embrace, like the rest of him, is warm, firm, and secure. ]
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Linhardt's eyelids start to droop even as he returns Ferdinand's embrace. He leans his chin on Ferdinand's shoulder.] On second thought, I may not be conscious enough to look at your wrist. [His voice is heavy with sleepiness.]
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Ferdinand chuckles, patting Linhardt on the back. ] Then, another time! I will let you rest for now. [ Though a little reluctant to let him go, Ferdinand releases his hold as soon as he lets him. ]
But, if you would like, you may come by my room later to take a look at my wrist! I will also prepare tea for us.
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Why is he so tired now anyway? Emotional whiplash? Exhaustion from finally have to deal with the consequences of his actions?
Linhardt has all the time in the world to think about that now that he has whole future with Ferdinand ahead of him. And he doesn't mind the thought of that at all.]