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[There are a lot of things Hubert was expecting during his time at Garreg Mach, but this is undoubtedly something he never could have prepared himself for.

Sure, he'd heard about the White Heron Cup, but he hadn't given it a second thought. It seems like the sort of thing that Dorothea and Ferdinand would find interesting, which means it's completely pointless.

When Professor Byleth stopped by to talk to him, he had asked if he'd be picked as the representative. Of course he wouldn't; in a class with Dorothea and Ferdinand and several other nobles, it wouldn't make sense to pick him of all people.

So naturally, the professor had done just that. Despite his confusion, he'd agreed and asked the professor for extra lessons. If he's going to do this (and it seems like he doesn't have much of a choice), then he's going to do his best to win. He isn't just representing the Black Eagles, he's representing Lady Edelgard, after all.

That's why he's out here in front of the Black Eagles classroom with Professor Byleth watching his dance moves. This is admittedly much harder than it would be with a partner, but even that couldn't get his movements to be any less stiff. They're precise and technically sound, but it's almost like there's nothing else to them, just steps following a silent beat. Hubert isn't really terrible, but he's certainly not going to be winning the cup like this.

...It would probably be easier if they weren't doing this in public. Obviously that's a bit of a stupid complaint, considering that the White Heron Cup will be held in front of a panel of judges and the entire monastery, but it certainly would be easier to get this practice session out of the way if he didn't feel like everyone's eyes were on him...

Oh well. There's really no fighting it, is there? Professor Byleth motions for him to run through the routine again, so he does without complaint. Eventually he'll get it; anything less than perfection would be unacceptable, after all.

Though really, this would have been much better if it had been left to someone else...]

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[ When Professor Byleth turned down his request to represent the Black Eagles in the White Heron Cup, Ferdinand had been disappointed, of course--there are few in their class better-suited to the task than he!--but reasoned that there must be a perfectly acceptable explanation. Dorothea is an obvious choice, given her background with the opera, and Ferdinand bites back any protests and tells himself she will do a marvelous job.

He is on his way to congratulate her, in fact, when he hears tittering and spots a crowd gathered on the Officers Academy lawn. Have they begun practicing already, then? Ferdinand attempts to peek over a small cluster of students, catching snippets of their conversation:

He's pretty good, isn't he? Who would have guessed?

Tall and mysterious will earn points with Professor Manuela, that's for sure!

Ferdinand assumes they must be talking about the Blue Lions or Golden Deer representative, and feels as if a bucket of ice water has been dumped over his head when he breaks through the crowd and sees none other than Hubert von Vestra being guided through the dance routine.

Surely there's been some mistake. He cannot imagine a world in which Hubert volunteered for the task, unless Edelgard requested it, but he cannot imagine why Edelgard would request it.

It takes him a moment to pull the metaphorical arrow from his ego, square his shoulders and stride across the grass to Professor Byleth and Hubert. ]

Professor! Perhaps it would help if I demonstrate how to perform this routine with feeling.

[ Ferdinand is staunchly avoiding looking at Hubert; once he dances, their professor will most certainly realize that Hubert was the wrong choice.

Byleth tips her head thoughtfully, appraising them both, before nodding. There's a murmur from the gathered students, and it takes Ferdinand a moment to process that she has not said "of course, Ferdinand!" and released Hubert to slink off and do as he will, but has instead--asked them to dance with each other? ]

I... Pardon? [ Ferdinand finally turns to look at Hubert to gauge his reaction, positive that he's misheard. ] Are you certain you want me to dance with him? Surely I can demonstrate my superior technique on my own.

[Perhaps Hubert should have expected exactly this to happen. Given the growing crowd and the open area, it really was only a matter of time before some of the other Black Eagles students wandered across this, and it certainly wouldn't have taken long for someone to let it slip to Ferdinand. While he can see Dorothea being mildly annoyed about being passed up for such an opportunity, Ferdinand's the one who will take offense at it.

So here he is, charging in with all the tact and grace he always displays, demanding to show the professor that he is the correct choice. Hubert's torn between fighting (because it's Ferdinand and letting Ferdinand win anything is just going to make him even more obnoxious) and giving in (because at least that way he won't have to deal with any of this), but naturally, the professor has a different idea in mind.

There's a brief moment where he's fairly sure his face is doing something it shouldn't, the surprise and confusion just as open in his expression as it always is in Ferdinand's. Professor Byleth remains an impassive thorn in his side, and it seems that is more true now than it ever has been in the past.

He obviously needs to have some sort of reaction, and once again he finds himself torn with arguing with Ferdinand or agreeing with him. Agreeing with him would be more beneficial - it would let Ferdinand take center stage and take the attention off him, and perhaps he can even slink away before the professor notices his disappearance. It may also get him out of this mess. Really, there's no reason why he should side with the professor and dance with Ferdinand von Aegir of all people.

...But Hubert is nothing if not contrary, particularly when Ferdinand is involved.]

Perhaps it will be easier for her to judge like this. [He offers Ferdinand a hand and a smirk.] Or are you saying you don't know how to follow?

[ Ferdinand is certain, as he watches Hubert's expression mirror his own, that they will be able to talk their way out of this. It occurs to him that Professor Byleth does tend to pair them for group tasks in a similar fashion--he and Hubert have bickered through stable duty together more than either of them would like--so perhaps this request should not come as such a surprise.

But as he comes to terms with their professor's reasoning, Hubert startles him by acquiescing. Ferdinand stares down at Hubert's proffered hand, brows arching as he looks from his smirking face to his hand and back again. ]

Of course I know how to follow. [ There's a huff of indignation in the words, but it occurs to Ferdinand that Professor Byleth will judge their respective skills from this, and he is not one to back down from a challenge. So he draws in a breath, a hint of flustered pink across his cheeks as he takes Hubert's hand and steps in close, resting his other hand a bit stiffly on Hubert's shoulder. ] Shall we?

[Unsurprisingly, Ferdinand agrees. Of course Ferdinand knows how to follow as well as lead, that's hardly the most surprising thing here. Somehow, the most surprising thing here is quite literally the stupidest: that he's now going to have to dance with Ferdinand, despite being the one to offer this in the first place.

Honestly, he really should be more careful with how contrary he gets. What is it about Ferdinand that irritates him so badly anyway, it isn't as though he can ever truly compare to Lady Edelgard...

Well, there's no backing out now. So Hubert settles his hand on Ferdinand's waist and nods, and that's all the warning he gives before pulling Ferdinand into the first steps. While his movements were stiff before, he's somehow managed to get even more unbearably tight now. Technically speaking every step he performs is correct, and his timing is right as well, but this entire thing bothers him in a way he can't put his finger on. Maybe it's because he played himself with this. Maybe it's because he still really doesn't care for dancing. Maybe it's because it's Ferdinand von Aegir.

Regardless of what it is, it doesn't reflect in his expression at all. He's still able to keep the usual smirk in place, but that is the one saving grace of this entire debacle. With any luck, he can play this off like he's purposefully performing badly so Ferdinand will look better in comparison and so the professor will pass the role onto him. Perhaps that should be the plan, given that he attempts to use everyone he can and remain three steps ahead at all times. Admitting that he walked directly into this one and is now paying the price is certainly not something he will ever do.]

[ Truly, the only thing less appealing than having to dance with Hubert is dancing with Hubert badly in front of an audience, and at the moment they are not making a terribly good show of it. Ferdinand is flustered enough by this whole scenario that he's not putting his best foot forward, in a manner of speaking, and Hubert is stiff as a corpse. ]

This will not do. [ A poor performance will reflect badly on the Black Eagles as a whole, and also won't be good for morale. Ferdinand steps in so that they are nearly chest-to-chest, inclining his head to speak against Hubert's ear. ]

Pretend that I'm some fair maiden of your choice, if it will help.

[Ah. Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse.

He doesn't fight when Ferdinand moves closer, allowing the movement but only freezing up further. If that had been all Ferdinand had done, this pathetic attempt at a dance likely would have ended there.

But the words break the momentary (what was that, exactly?) tension and Hubert rolls his eyes.]

Do I seem like the sort to envision dancing with fair maidens?

[The words are back to the usual level of mild irritation and just like that it seems whatever went wrong in his head has simply snapped back into place. The status quo has been reset. Everything is as it should be, and it doesn't particularly matter that they're dancing with entirely too many eyes on them.

Just like that, the tension begins to leave him, though he's still a bit too stiff to pull off anything approaching perfection. Still, any improvement is a step (or two, or three) in the right direction.]

I had a hard time imagining you dancing at all before this moment, if I'm honest.

[ Ferdinand doesn't consciously register it, but he begins to relax into the movements once Hubert does; the dance itself is simple enough, even if his partner is less than ideal.

Despite his own advice, his mind draws a blank when he tries to picture someone other than Hubert grasping his hand--likely due to the strangeness of the scenario. While Ferdinand would most likely ask a lady to dance, given the choice, he's not opposed to dancing with a gentleman. But Hubert von Vestra is not what anyone would call gentle.

Still, he will make the most of it. Ferdinand tips his head slightly, imagining the music as best he can and putting a bit more flourish into his steps, simultaneously becoming more aware of the pattern of Hubert's. ]

Your technique isn't bad. But you won't win the Cup if you don't put some feeling into it.

I'm fairly certain you aren't the only one.

[Given the crowd he's attracted, that's a fair assumption. Like it or not (and he leans heavily toward not), he is a noble and while House Vestra is hardly typical nobility, he does have some experience with the more inane parts of being a noble. Dancing included, of course.

But just because he is familiar with it doesn't mean he's particularly skilled, which becomes apparent the moment Ferdinand adds more flourish to his steps. It takes Hubert a moment to catch up and mirror it - as the one leading, it is his job to guide Ferdinand, and it is his job to make his partner look good. So if Ferdinand is going to be like this, then he is required to at least match despite his distaste for it.

In other words, it doesn't take him long to figure out what Ferdinand is doing and mimic his movements; it's a bit uncertain, but it's quickly morphing into something that actually looks like actual dancing as opposed to... well, just going through the movements.]

That is your area of expertise, isn't it.

[It's not a question.]

[ Although Ferdinand went into this wanting to impress Professor Byleth--and thus shouldn't be concerned with whether or not Hubert excels--it is more or less impossible to wholly separate oneself from one's partner during a dance. They are two halves of one performance, when it comes down to it, and so Ferdinand is pleased when Hubert follows his lead (despite the fact that that is the opposite of their respective roles) and puts a little more flair into his steps.

Hubert may be unpleasant to pair with for most tasks, but he is nothing if not a fast learner--and good at following instruction, when it suits his needs. In that respect, Ferdinand supposes there are worse people he could be waltzing across the courtyard with. ]

It's part of my duty as a noble to be able to dance when required. And I do enjoy it, as well.

[The further they go - and the more times they run the routine, since of course the professor isn't letting them go after just once now that Hubert's actually making progress - the more he begins to actually relax. Okay, so it's not exactly "relaxing" in the traditional sense, but it's as relaxed as Hubert is capable of getting at any given moment in time, so that has to count for something.]

Of course you do. [A simple statement, but somehow it still manages to sound condescending.] Is this also part of your duty as a noble, to teach me how to do it properly?

[The words remain sarcastic, but there's an undercurrent of genuine amusement to them that isn't usually present. This entire thing is so absurd that it's genuinely funny. Who would have thought either of them would be stuck doing this. It's amazing they've lasted this long without someone storming off.]

[ They do, of course, cooperate on the battlefield--the stakes are quite high there, and there's no room for petty quarrels--but he supposes it is entertaining that they have had to work together countless times in the classroom, the stables, the greenhouse, and this is where they manage the easiest success: a task where they must be physically close and aware of each other at all times. ]

I would call this encouragement more than teaching. You are leading, after all.

[ Ferdinand executes a graceful spin as they end the routine again, to a smattering of applause. Professor Byleth lifts her hand for them to stop, and Ferdinand bows to his partner, ready to be informed that she has made her decision and changed her mind about their house representative.

And he is once again rendered speechless, for a moment, as she suggests that they continue to practice together in the weeks to come. Ferdinand looks from Byleth to Hubert, brows lifted. ]

Are you certain? I am not opposed, if you think it will be beneficial.

[Ferdinand executes the spin flawlessly and the professor stops them, so when his partner bows, Hubert does as well. It's certainly not quite enough to be considered a proper bow, but it's not entirely lacking in respect either, which is probably good enough as far as everyone is concerned here.

The professor hasn't changed her mind, but she has something even worse in store. Even though her expression doesn't change, Hubert's certain that she's doing this to get back at him. Maybe he shouldn't have threatened her a second time...]

Very well. If I am to do this, then I should have adequate instruction.

[...Byleth really doesn't seem to care about the thinly-veiled insult, unsurprisingly...

Anyway, he returns his attention to Ferdinand.]

I suppose I should thank you for your cooperation and assistance.

[...That. That isn't exactly expressing thanks??]

[ Ferdinand wants to point out that his instruction is far better than adequate, but he's momentarily side-tracked by Hubert...sort of thanking him. It is likely the only time Hubert has said the words thank you to Ferdinand in any sincere capacity.

Ferdinand thinks it's sincere, at least. It's often hard to tell with Hubert. ]

And I suppose you are welcome.

[ The small cluster of students has begun to disperse, returning to their own business, and Ferdinand is left feeling a bit out of his depth, caught off-guard by their predicament. Still, he is not about to let their class down by backing out. ]

Should we...decide on a time and place to meet, then? We should probably do this several times a week. [ Much as he's loathe to lose his afternoons and evenings to dancing with Hubert, but it can't be helped. ]

[He's not exactly fond of losing any of his free time to this, but there's nothing to be done about it now. Besides, it isn't as though he's incredibly busy at the moment. He can afford to waste some time on dance lessons in the name of securing this victory for Lady Edelgard.]

I am busy, but I suppose there's no way around it. Let me know when your schedule is free and I can work around it.

[Most of the things that eat up his time are research or being generally shady, which are pretty flexible. It's also easier to work around Ferdinand's schedule than to expose his own, because (as always), Hubert keeps any information close at hand.]

[ Ferdinand crosses an arm over his chest and lifts his other hand to stroke his chin, lips pursed as he considers. ] After dinner tomorrow? We could meet at the overlook west of the cathedral.

[ He's hardly one to shy from attention, nor is he at all ashamed of his own dancing skills, but this is... well, it's Hubert. They won't be fully sequestered away, but they're less likely to attract a crowd there, which is probably for the best. ]

[The overlook is a good spot; it's unlikely to be crowded and if anyone is there, they won't be for long. While Hubert has no interest in the cathedral and prefers to avoid it, this is certainly the best place to avoid any more stares.]

That's acceptable. I will meet you there.

[...And with that he just... turns to leave, because apparently he's done with the conversation and he's ditching; Hubert's exactly that rude.

Don't worry, he'll definitely be on time tomorrow. For as little as he likes any of this, he isn't one to shirk his duties, even if those duties involve dancing with Ferdinand von Aegir.]

[ Blessedly, the professor does not sit Ferdinand and Hubert beside each other at dinner the next night; they have little to talk about on a good day, and Ferdinand doesn't want his stomach to go sour before dance practice. He intends to ask Professor Byleth what her end goal is for these sessions--will he have a chance to dance at the Cup, or is his task simply to ensure Hubert succeeds?--but she makes herself frustratingly scarce.

For now, Ferdinand makes his way to the westerly side of the cathedral. He rarely comes here at night, but it is certainly atmospheric: the heady smell of incense wafts through the open door, candles being lit as the early evening light stretches gold across the stone walkway. As Ferdinand appears to have arrived first--and no one else is around to witness their meeting, for better or worse--he takes a moment to appreciate the sweeping view, elbows resting on the wall and hands clasped together as he looks out over the misty forest below. ]

[Thankfully, there isn't any reason to deal with Ferdinand before the scheduled dance practice. There's no reason for either of them to irritate each other too much beforehand; either one of them could skip practice, if that was the case, and sadly, Hubert does still require some assistance for this. If the professor hadn't requested Ferdinand for this, perhaps he could have gotten away with asking Dorothea for help—

...Actually, Ferdinand may be the preferred option, as horrible as that is to admit. It's fine, Ferdinand never has to know.

Anyway, Hubert arrives on time, slinking his way through the cathedral and avoiding detection easily enough until he's at the appointed place. Ferdinand's already there, looking down on the view (a view which Hubert will not be looking at, thanks) and so when Hubert approaches, it's with no attempt to conceal his presence or footsteps.]

Ferdinand. [He speaks up for good measure, just so he doesn't startle the other man.] Good of you not to keep me waiting.

[ Ferdinand is grateful to not be taken by surprise. Hubert's penchant for frightening people from the shadows is widely known, and they do not need to start their lessons with Hubert smirking at Ferdinand as he recovers from a heart attack. ] Ah, Hubert. I was early, but it gave me time to enjoy the view. [ Neither of them wants to be here longer than strictly necessary--that much does not need to be said.

And so Ferdinand straightens from the wall and steps toward Hubert, offering a bow and his hand. ]

Shall I lead, this time?

[His gaze flicks in the direction of said view when Ferdinand brings it up, but he's quick to dismiss it.]

Go right ahead.

[At the very least he can see how Ferdinand moves and compare it to what he's been doing. It may be good to watch Ferdinand go through the movements on his own, but there's no harm in starting like this. Hubert learns well from example, after all. So it's easy enough to take Ferdinand's offered hand and settle his other on the noble's shoulder.

It's not something he finds bothersome, at any rate. Leading and following were both skills he was taught, though he'll only need the former to win the White Heron Cup. Still, he'll at least be able to follow well and not trample all over Ferdinand's feet.]

[ Ferdinand isn't sure whether he'll ever get used to touching Hubert like this, standing just a few breaths apart with a hand resting politely at his waist. He supposes he always knew Hubert's fingers were longer than his own, but never thought he would be so intimately aware of how their hands fit.

It's a strange thought, made more-so by the fact that the setting he's chosen could be romantic, with the right partner. Ethereal Moon evenings have just enough of a chill in the air to make one want to draw closer for warmth, and despite the lack of emotional warmth Hubert exhibits, he is still human--though Ferdinand is almost surprised he's not cool to the touch when their fingers lace together.

Ferdinand clears his throat, lifting his chin to meet Hubert's gaze as he takes the first step in the routine, keeping it slow to start. It's easy enough to fall into the rhythm, and like before, Hubert has--potential.

Ferdinand does not particularly want to make small talk with Hubert, but he also doesn't do well with silence. So halfway through, he voices something he hadn't considered before. ]

They'll present you with a custom uniform for the battlefield if you win, you know. I believe you can speak to the professor to request a specific color palette.

[For once, Ferdinand is silent. It's a bit surprising that he isn't taking the opportunity to talk about... well, anything. Himself, the horses, their classes, his family, any number of inane things would be expected before the silence. Not that it's bad; this is actually... nice is overstating it, but it's acceptable. Tolerable. That's better than things usually are with Ferdinand.

It's not that he hates Ferdinand, it's just that usually he's annoying, and his insistence on being better than Lady Edelgard is agitating in a way Hubert doesn't really understand or care to examine in detail. But in a moment like this, where they're quiet and Ferdinand leads him easily, maybe he can acknowledge that he isn't entirely blameless in their rather pointless feuds.

Not that he'd ever admit that aloud, of course.

But then Ferdinand breaks the silence (unsurprisingly), though the topic he selects is one that gets Hubert to cant his head a bit as he considers it.]

I am aware of the uniform, and I suppose I'll have no choice but to wear it. I'll let the professor know my color choice, then.

[...The only reason why he feels the need to tell her is because he's a bit concerned she already knows and will pick something he won't appreciate.]

[ Ferdinand stops short of imagining Hubert in the dancer's garb; he has not personally seen it, but has heard that it's lightweight and gauzy, suitable for easy movement on the battlefield. Ferdinand is most comfortable in armor, of course, and is only used to seeing Hubert in the heavy, dark robes of a mage. ]

I am curious to know your color choice. [ He has an idea, of course, but Hubert could always surprise him.

Ferdinand wonders whether there is anyone Hubert would want to dance with, but that is not a question he's currently willing to voice. Instead, he tips his head as they begin the routine a second time, brows knit. ]

I admit, I am also curious to know why the professor chose you for this task. When there are other more suitable candidates.

White.

[The only indication that it's a joke is the slight raise of his eyebrows, but he doesn't let that hang there for long before addressing the second part.]

I'm not entirely sure what our professor is thinking. There are certainly plenty of candidates in our house who are better suited for such a thing. I'm not entirely sure why she passed on Dorothea.

[Possibly because Dorothea would make the competition unfair to the other houses, but he doesn't believe that's the real reason. No, the professor must have some idea in mind for why she chose him, specifically. He's still sure that his threats might have been partially to blame, but that knowing look in her otherwise blank expression...]

Regardless of her reasoning, she doesn't seem inclined to change her mind.

[He inclines his head a bit and smirks.]

You may have to improve if you wish to convince her otherwise.

[ Hubert's particular brand of humor rarely lands with Ferdinand, and he opens his mouth a moment before realizing it was, in fact, a joke. ]

Green would suit you. Or dark red.

[ But no, Hubert will likely request something that would be suitable for a funeral parlor. ]

For once we are in agreement. About Dorothea, I mean.

[ Although Ferdinand would still be disappointed if Professor Byleth had chosen Dorothea, it wouldn't have smarted quite as much as her choosing the man he is waltzing with now.

Hubert's final comment presses quite firmly on that particular bruise, and his displeasure is immediately evident on his face, ears pinking and lips curving into a frown. ]

Improve? I believe I have shown I'm good enough for the both of us!

[ Unfortunately, Ferdinand is flustered enough that his frustration tangles his steps: his foot grazes Hubert's shin, their knees knocking as he narrowly avoids stumbling forward into his chest. Ferdinand catches himself by tightening his grip on Hubert's hand, and the hand at his waist slides to the small of his back, a flush spreading across his nose. ]

Do not say a word.

[The color suggestions get a dismissive noise from him; as if he'd consider anything other than black? Absolutely not. Whenever he's given the choice, he will always wear black.

Anyway, as predicted, Ferdinand riles easily. He expected the words, he didn't quite expect Ferdinand to fumble a bit. Thankfully, Ferdinand's still skilled enough to keep them from falling, but suddenly Ferdinand's hand is at his back and he gets the distinct feeling that this might have been a mistake.

Still, the smirk doesn't fade - he's at least good at keeping his cool despite how strangely flustering it is to be this close. And since Ferdinand asked him so nicely, he won't say a word.

Instead, he'll laugh. It's entirely too evil-sounding and too pleased, but he technically did not say a single word, so Ferdinand can't complain!!]

[ Being laughed at while they are nearly chest-to-chest proves to be too much. Ferdinand abruptly releases Hubert's hand, distressed that the hurt he feels isn't entirely his bruised ego.

It is something about--this scenario, specifically. Being forced into an activity like this might be an opportunity to grow closer, get to know someone better. Ferdinand can imagine that happening with nearly everyone in their class except the man he has been tasked to coach. ]

I think we are done for the night.

[ It's said with a sniff as Ferdinand steps away and sweeps a hand over the wrinkles in the front of his shirt, though they've barely been at it for half an hour. ]

[Oh dear, it looks like that was the limit of Ferdinand's patience. Under any other circumstances he would have considered that a win, not that this is a game they're playing, and not that he's been keeping score. Had this happened at any other point in time, he would have left Ferdinand to pout without a second thought.

But in this unique set of circumstances, Ferdinand's refusal to cooperate only serves to hurt Hubert's own chances at winning the White Heron Cup, which in turn will look badly on all the Black Eagles and especially on Lady Edelgard. The best thing to do would be to swallow his pride and apologize, though that's far easier said than done with Ferdinand von Aegir.

Hubert's temptation is to leave it; they will have more chances for this, after all. Ferdinand is the sort to bounce back quickly. Even if he's irritated now, he'll seek Hubert out later to arrange another time for these lessons, because Ferdinand is just as competitive and he certainly won't give up so easily. So really, there's no reason to hang around.

And yet he finds it more difficult than it should be to leave. It should be simple enough to slip back into the shadows and leave Ferdinand with a parting blow, and yet...

Perhaps he's still feeling a bit flustered from the proximity. Strange.]

I will attempt to avoid irritating you as badly next time.

[The words leave him before he can think twice about them, which is just more proof that something about this has thrown him off in a way he doesn't like. He's able to keep his expression neutral, but the words themselves are... a bit stiff, at best, and lacking in their usual bite at worst. It's almost like he's being sincere.

(Is he?)

As if to make up for it, he settles back into his usual tone immediately after.]

I make no promises, however.

[ Based on past experience, Ferdinand fully expects Hubert to either continue laughing at him or slink away without another word, so he is surprised when he...apologizes? As close to an apology as one can get from Hubert von Vestra, anyway.

Ferdinand blinks at him for a moment, brows raised, before he manages to collect himself. ]

I... appreciate the effort.

[ Slowly, as though he is certain Hubert will rescind his words the moment Ferdinand acknowledges them. Ferdinand is also sincere, however, and Hubert's attempt is enough to placate him, his irritation and embarrassment falling away for the moment. It doesn't take much, really; his anger is quick to rise, when provoked, but equally quick to dissipate. ]

Shall we plan on the same time tomorrow, then?

[He doesn't rescind his words, but he does watch Ferdinand carefully for his reaction. He's aware that Ferdinand tends to puff himself up but deflates easily once he's no longer irritated, and it's good to see that this has settled him a bit. Still, it's sort of strange to watch it happen in regards to something he's said. Usually they agitate each other so badly that someone leaves the conversation. This is the first time they've ever managed to settle back into normalcy (for a given degree of "normalcy"), isn't it?

Strange.]

Yes, that's acceptable. Here, I assume?

[It's certainly easier for them both to be away from prying eyes.]

[ Ferdinand still feels awkward in the face of Hubert's apology, and he has never been particularly good at schooling his expressions, so he looks a little bit--chagrined, maybe. Mostly he is now embarrassed that he's the one responsible for cutting their practice short, but despite his generally boundless energy and enthusiasm Ferdinand feels that he does, in fact, need to call it a day. Possibly to process the events of the past hour.

He clears his throat, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. ]

If you are not opposed, then yes. I will see you here.

[A brief nod.]

Very well. I will see you then.

[With no more reason to stay, Hubert's quick to turn on his heel and... okay, escape is not quite the right word, but he does move quickly. It's partially because he doesn't like the chapel, but there's something weird about all of this that he can't put his finger on. It was too... civil, perhaps? Not that that's a bad thing, it's just... very strange.

But true to his word, he'll be back tomorrow at the appointed time. Of course, he's hanging out in the shadows, but it's not like there's anywhere else he'd be. Are you still showing up on time, Ferdinand?]

[ Ferdinand is punctual, but not so early that he arrives before Hubert tonight. Despite the fact that they have chosen a discreet spot for their evening meetings there is, of course, some general tittering across Garreg Mach about Professor Byleth's choice of dancer, as well as their display in the courtyard the other day.

The gossip does not particularly bother him; it's mostly harmless. But he does feel bothered by the fact that they could be much further along by now, and so the moment Ferdinand spots Hubert he gets right down to it. ]

Hubert. I wanted to apologize for cutting our practice short yesterday.

[ An apology for an apology, so now they are even. ]

[It's hard not to overhear the rumors. Sure, Hubert tends to keep a close eye on everyone and makes it his business to pay attention to things like this despite his disinterest in idle gossip, but it's honestly a bit embarrassing...

Not that he'd ever admit that, of course. The professor chose him for this so it's his duty to win. For Lady Edelgard's sake. He won't have the Black Eagles class look bad, regardless of his personal feelings toward dancing. Or his dance instructor.

He's not surprised Ferdinand's on time, and he nods in greeting. He's certainly not expecting the apology, and his visible eyebrow arches at it.]

You don't need to apologize.

[It's true, as far as he's concerned. It's not as though Ferdinand did anything wrong. Getting riled up so easily is hardly a good thing, but it isn't as though it's something warranting an apology.

But for whatever reason, Ferdinand has decided to apologize. Hubert can't claim to understand how Ferdinand's mind works, so perhaps the best thing to do would be...]

If you're that concerned about it, we can practice for longer today. Will that do?

[It's what's necessary in order to ensure his victory, that's all. It isn't as though he genuinely wouldn't mind, because it's not like Ferdinand has been surprisingly tolerable through all this. No. It's just because it will help him win.]

[ The prospect of spending additional time with Hubert doesn't exactly fill Ferdinand's heart with joy, but he also doesn't feel an immediate sense of dread, for once. That, he supposes, is some sort of progress.

He can't help but wonder if the feeling is mutual, but tucks that thought away, for the moment. He also wonders if this may have been part of their professor's goals; she and Edelgard value cooperation and teamwork, and Ferdinand certainly agrees on principle, though it is not always so simple in practice. ]

I suppose that is reasonable.

[ The evening air is brisk, but not unpleasant, and Ferdinand is glad at least to have an excuse to warm up a bit.

Through movement, of course. Not by being close to Hubert. ]

I'll let you lead tonight, if you wish.

[He nods at that and considers throwing a jab out there. At this point it's almost second-nature to try to rile Ferdinand up, even when there's no reason for it and it can only be detrimental. But he catches himself, and silently vows not to be particularly rude until at least the halfway point in their session. He can do that much, at least.

Maybe if he stopped and thought about it, he'd at least come to some understanding of why Ferdinand irritates him far more than any of the rest of their class. Even Caspar and Linhardt don't grate on his nerves as badly, and both of them are highly annoying. But of course, Hubert doesn't bother with it, because whatever it is clearly can't be that big of a concern.

And besides, the primary goal here is to win the White Heron Cup. So he'll play nice with Ferdinand for now, because that's what's necessary.

He offers his hand, and once Ferdinand's ready, he'll begin.]

Instruct me as you see fit. I'm aware I still have plenty of flaws left to work on.

[It's true, he does. While everything is still mechanically sound and he can keep to the beat perfectly, even without music, he still leaves much to be desired. He's danced with Ferdinand enough to pick up on the embellishments and flourishes that Ferdinand adds and can accommodate for and copy them well enough, but there's still a sense of rigidity behind every movement. Almost like he isn't relaxed - and perhaps doesn't even know how to.]

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i am brainfarting about whether there's an official name for this spot on the map

i was going to look it up but i'm in the middle of a battle... oops

haha no worries i was mostly just like IS THIS A SPECIFIC PLACE...IDK

good question!!!

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