Sora the Scribe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cinnamonicles) wrote2012-09-11 05:47 pm
cinnamonicles) wrote2012-09-11 05:47 pm
Entry tags:
Fanfiction - Abandonment Complex.
Title: Abandonment Complex.
Fandom: Luceti.
Pairing: I wouldn't bet money on this, but I believe this may be Pao-Lin/Hubert. Just a wild guess, of course. :|;;
Words: 4085.
Summary: With Pao-Lin away on a long mission, Hubert has no choice but to acquaint himself further with the other member of their household.
Rating: W for Why Do I Keep Coming Up With This Shit?
Notes: So there was supposed to be another fic I meant to post soon that would have "properly" introduced the (rather ridiculous) concept of Pao-Lin and Hubert being married, along with referencing Pao-Lin's pet dragon Stormy. But then I got stuck on it and wandered over to do the 1fandom themeset (which introduced both the marriage and Stormy, more or less), and then I got hit with this idea as I was preparing to fall asleep one night (appropriately enough), and then...sigh. Lucetiverse has become this fucking fanfic leviathan. The Lucetiverse Leviathan. Yes.
I confess that isn't one of my more refined works, but I was more concerned with getting the idea out of the way. Apparently I am chronically incapable of writing anything less than three thousand words unless it's a freak of nature or some sort of 1sentence themeset. Sob.
Hubert's not prepared for the loneliness that hits him like a blast of winter air the first night that Pao-Lin is away on a month-long mission.
It doesn't make any sense to him. This won't be the first time he's slept unaccompanied by her presence, after all. They've lived together in House 45 since they got married almost half a year ago (has it really been so long already?), but — as per personal preferences on both their parts — they still maintain separate bedrooms. Their system is simple: if either one of them is open to having company for the night, the door is left open for the other to enter if they wish to do so. As best as Hubert can recall, the time spent sleeping on his own is roughly comparable with the time he spent sharing a bed with Pao-Lin (though memories of the latter tend to stick out rather vividly in his mind, for perhaps obvious reasons). So an empty bed, even after acquiring a wife (he still finds himself astounded that he has one), is no new experience for him.
Yet when Hubert climbs into his bed that first night without Pao-Lin in the house, a nagging sense of wrongness gnaws away at him, dangling him in its jaws over the yawning abyss of sleep without ever letting him drop. After some time spent tossing and turning, he gets up with a grumble and heads for his study, intending to clear his mind with some reading. But fatigue refuses to let him get through more than a few pages of even the lightest reading without his eyelids drooping and his head throbbing. So he resigns himself to a restless night. His mood only worsens when he wakes up the next morning and realizes that there's no chance he's going to get his usual cheery greeting from Pao-Lin either today or anytime soon.
Hubert tries to forget about his empty house by staying out of it as much as possible once he's made sure Stormy is provided for in terms of food and water for the day. He lengthens his training sessions, he visits Asbel and the others at House 28, he camps out in the library for reading, and he even stops at Good Spirits during the evening sometimes. But inevitably, he has to come home to sleep. And inevitably, on the way to his own bedroom, he has to pass by the closed door to Pao-Lin's.
He's always struck by the urge to open the door and go inside whenever he does so. Most of the time he shakes it off as a temporary lapse in sanity and strolls by, but one night Hubert finds himself actually gripping the doorknob as he considers whether or not he should enter. Pao-Lin's bedroom is deeply personalized, much more so than his, and so — despite having been inside multiple times before — walking in without her knowledge feels too much like the architectural equivalent of reading her diary (not that she keeps one).
But...surely it can't hurt to at least look inside, right? To check that her belongings are still present, and therefore she still remains in this strange world of wings and cycles and Shifts in reality?
Yes. That seems reasonable. It's best to discover any unfortunate news as swiftly as possible, instead of clinging to baseless hope.
With a twist of his wrist and a sudden pang of panic in his chest, Hubert turns the doorknob and pushes.
To his utter relief (which might have been mild annoyance in any other situation), Hubert's greeted by the sight of Pao-Lin's dirty laundry scattered on the floor. His eyes register her small collection of stuffed animals on a shelf, her tray of hairpins on her dresser, her Hero staff leaning against a corner. The room even smells faintly of the lotion she uses after showering, and when Hubert catches wind of it, he feels further reassured.
Which is all the more reason that he shuts the door as fast as possible after opening it. He's confirmed what he needed to; there's no point in lingering except to pacify the clingy, anxious child he thought he long left behind him.
***
Investigating the state of Pao-Lin's bedroom quickly becomes integrated into Hubert's routine. He checks once as he heads to the kitchen to make breakfast, and he checks again before heading to bed. He tries to approach the task with the same mundane mindset that he has when he feeds Stormy or waters the flowerboxes outside, but his heart always clenches when his hand does on the doorknob the moment before he opens the door.
One day, in an attempt to further legitimize the action as something other than an irrational tic, Hubert sits down and forces himself to think through the steps he'd take were his worst fears to be confirmed. It doesn't take long, considering that he'd actually gone through them once before about two years ago: check for letters or other such sentimental paraphernalia that might be left behind, announce Pao-Lin's departure over the journals and address those she might have bequeathed something to, continue with regular routine. Now, however, he'd have to add finding a second caretaker for Stormy (assuming that Pao-Lin wouldn't ask him to look after Stormy himself, which he prays she doesn't), and, most likely, making arrangements to move back into House 28.
Far from placating him, however, the thought exercise puts him in such a foul mood that when Hubert goes to check Pao-Lin's bedroom that night, he tosses aside all pretenses of maturity and rationality and walks right inside. He climbs onto her bed, pulls his knees up to his chest, and rests his head in his arms, trying desperately to pretend that he doesn't miss Pao-Lin as much as he does, that he hadn't grown so used to having her around that he could no longer fathom what his days would be like otherwise until it actually happened. A pointless venture, of course: if it were that easy to wish away loneliness, he would have already done so. In fact, he would have learned it in the seven years he lived under Garrett Oswell's shadow.
Hubert doesn't intend to fall asleep in Pao-Lin's bedroom. But he's exhausted from both general melancholy and the daily grind, and being surrounded by her spirit (for lack of a better term) lifts the disquiet that's weighed him down and prevented him from sleeping well the past couple of nights. Feeling more at ease than he has in recent memory, he can't help but sink into dreamland for a bit, despite the less-than-ideal position he's taken up.
He jerks awake when he realizes, to his shame, that he'd fallen asleep. Frowning at the stiffness in his neck, he lifts a hand to massage it away...which is when he notices Stormy lying next to him on one of the pillows.
"..." The little dragon, about the size of a housecat, blinks lethargically up at Hubert. Her tail flops back and forth on the mattress like a mopey metronome.
Hubert stares at her for a little bit, studying her with a cautious sort of fascination. Pao-Lin's had Stormy for at least two years now (a reward earned for successfully completing multiple missions from the Malnosso), but Hubert still doesn't know much about her. Insofar as much as one can get to know an animal, anyway. He certainly has personal experience with the dragon's protective streak towards her mistress, and in sharing the house with her he knows of Stormy's daily needs, preferences, and patterns (with Pao-Lin filling in any gaps in his knowledge before leaving on her mission). But Hubert's never developed a personal connection with her the way Pao-Lin has, and has never felt much of a need to. Ultimately, she's under Pao-Lin's domain, not his. He generally regards Stormy with a sense of pragmatic apathy. She's all right — when she's not making a mess somewhere or interrupting his closer moments with Pao-Lin or anything like that.
"I suppose you miss Pao-Lin," he says.
Stormy tilts her head slightly, roused by his voice.
And now Hubert's stuck for words, because how do you talk to a dragon? Stormy seems to comprehend human speech most of the time, but she can't respond in such a fashion, so it isn't as though one could hold a proper conversation with her. He sighs and fixes his glasses, pinching the bridge of it between his index and middle fingers to reposition it comfortably.
"Well, there's no need to sulk about it," he continues sternly, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up to leave. "She'll be back soon enough." Before he closes the door behind him, he checks to see if Stormy's following. It'd be unfortunate, to say the least, if he incurred her wrath right before bedtime by accidentally smacking her with the door.
But Stormy seems to be making herself comfortable for the night. After settling better into the pillow, she closes her eyes and curls her tail around herself.
Well, Hubert supposes it's the logical leap from sleeping just outside Pao-Lin's bedroom door, which Stormy had taken to doing after Pao-Lin left. Much to his consternation, he finds himself a bit jealous: he certainly can't get away with sleeping in Pao-Lin's bed while she's not around. Not without looking (and feeling) more than a little pathetic.
He opts to leave the door open this time, in case Stormy suddenly wakes up in the middle of the night and feels the urge to wander. Cooping her up could spell bad news for Pao-Lin's bedroom, and he wouldn't want her to come home from a grueling mission to a dragon-made disaster area.
***
Hubert actually ends up just leaving the door open, period. It makes it easier for him to confirm Pao-Lin's continued presence.
On the other hand, it isn't like he needs the constant reminder of what's missing in his life right now. His attempts at sleep remain fitful, less like an actual night's rest and more like a laboriously drawn-out facsimile of a nap. He can't believe that he's been thrown off-kilter by such a simple change to his days (never mind that this isn't the first time such a circumstance has happened to him — but denial is the most well-worn tool in his coping toolbox). Yet it's only when he throws up a second white flag of surrender and takes his nighttime reading to Pao-Lin's bedroom that he feels anywhere near close to "normal" again. True, the clutter of the room is begging to be cleared out, but — it's Pao-Lin's clutter and that's what matters. It's enough to get him to finally, truly relax into his reading. So much so, in fact, that he doesn't notice Stormy fluttering into the room and alighting on the bed.
She doesn't lie down, though. Instead, she pads over to him and rests her chin in the crook of his elbow, as if to peek at his book.
Startled out of his literary reverie, Hubert just barely refrains from flinching in surprise. He furrows his brows slightly as he glances down at her.
"What is it?" he asks. "Are you hungry? I just fed you."
When Stormy doesn't respond in either a gestural or quasi-verbal way, Hubert gets up and checks her food dish in case she's polished the entire thing off since he refreshed it. But the dish is still reasonably filled.
Hubert turns and crouches down to get a better look at Stormy, who's followed him from the bedroom. Is she ill? he wonders. She doesn't seem like it, as far as he can tell. Of course, he's no expert on what constitutes aberrant draconic behavior. He's only going off his casual knowledge of more traditional pets like dogs and cats. A sensible enough start, since some of Stormy's mannerisms do remind him a little of Tiger Festival at times. Still, surely there must be differences somewhere due to physiology...
With no light shed on the matter, he returns to Pao-Lin's bedroom to resume his reading. Stormy plops herself next to him again, head resting on his arm, and this time Hubert opts to ignore her for the time being. Perhaps she's bored, he muses. Not that he believes she's reading along with him or anything like that (he's pretty sure dragons can't read). More likely, the creature's grown bored of her own company, and as such is craving the presence of another. Her first choice for companionship is gone, however, so Stormy has no choice but to settle for Hubert.
Well. It's not an arrangement he would have suggested, but it's not one he's going to argue against, either. Especially if it means that she'll stop snapping at him for inexplicable offenses.
Alas, when Hubert reaches out and attempts to pet Stormy, she jerks away and hisses before turning her back on him. She flops onto her claimed pillow, wings folding tight against her back.
Hubert heaves a dramatic sigh and snaps his book shut, deciding to get ready for bed. Clearly he's pushed his dragon-befriending boundaries a little too far.
***
Yet this, too, becomes a new ritual, reading in Pao-Lin's bedroom with Stormy next to him before heading off to bed. It won't be long now until Pao-Lin returns, but this only makes him more impatient for her to come back. Stormy seems a little more agitated, as well. She's taken to accompanying Hubert sometimes, hovering by his side as he goes to get groceries or return library books or even just for a walk. Sometimes she even ends up following him to his bedroom, though once she realizes he's settling in for the night, she returns to Pao-Lin's room. Hubert doesn't blame her, of course, even if he has grown fonder of her lately — fond enough that he finds a book on dragons from the library and flips through it one night to finally learn more about the third member of the Oswell household in Luceti.
"I don't suppose any of these are your kin, are they?" Hubert inquires idly as he studies a page featuring full-color illustrations of different dragons.
Stormy just trills at him.
Hm. Was that a negative or an affirmative? Maybe he should also look into a book on interpreting dragon "language", as it were. Come to think of it, their wizard neighbor likely has such a resource, considering that he also has a pet dragon. Hubert makes a mental note to talk to Helios at some point as he lets his fingers rest on a picture of a purple-scaled dragon — the one that looks most similar to Stormy. Color is about the only thing the two have in common, however. The dragon in the book has a colorful crest on its head, as opposed to Stormy's nubby horns, and its belly is bright gold instead of deep red. Its claws and teeth look leagues nastier, as well, though Hubert supposes it's possible that Stormy could mature into those attributes. But he sincerely hopes not. That would be rather hard on their house, to say nothing about what she could do to him if he unwittingly annoyed her again.
Another day sees Hubert returning early from a training session due to a mysterious glitch in the Battle Dome's simulators causing all simulations to look disgustingly blocky and featureless. He passes by Stormy snoozing in one of the flowerboxes on the front porch, and makes his way to the bathroom to clean up before situating himself in his study to work on deciphering the code used in documents recently retrieved from an abandoned Malnosso facility. He's looking forward to the challenge. Training his body is all well and good, but ultimately he relishes things that test his smarts.
Not ten minutes into his work, however, Stormy shows up in the doorway, her tail wagging happily. She's got a brightly-colored striped ball in her mouth.
It takes Hubert a few moments to truly register what he's seeing. Is she really asking him to play fetch with her?
"I'm busy at the moment," he responds, turning back to his desk. "Perhaps later." He's actually just hoping that the little dragon will find a way to entertain herself and forget all about bothering him.
But Stormy just trots across the floor to lay down by his feet, the ball cradled between her claws. She's still there an hour and a half later when Hubert gets up to acquire a snack from the kitchen. And when he returns with a plate of apple slices, she's there to greet him at the door, the ball back in her mouth.
He frowns slightly. She's still insistent on this? He walks past her to return to his work, but she parks herself by his feet again, waiting expectantly like a puppy dog. A scaly puppy dog with the ability to breathe fire. An ability that she has thankfully not indulged in lately, but...
"..."
Hubert sighs and gives his glasses a resigned nudge as he glances sidelong at Stormy. Perhaps it would be wise to appease her for a bit, he decides. Engaging in a game of fetch doesn't require much effort either physically or mentally, after all, so he can still do his work. The main issue is being constantly disrupted by Stormy returning the ball to him, but those moments should be acceptably brief.
So Hubert takes his work and his snack and heads outside to the back of the house, where there'll be more room for Stormy to play. He continues to scribble and think and revise in between throwing the ball into the woods and waiting for Stormy to come back with it. Eventually, however, he can't take any more of the Malnosso's apparent nonsense, so he contents himself with just watching Stormy flit about chasing after her precious toy. The experience is...pleasant, if a little strange for him because of its idle nature. But he thinks he can understand why Pao-Lin enjoys it.
The thought occurs to him then that Pao-Lin might be delighted to learn that he's finally making an effort to establish rapport with her beloved pet. It's true that Pao-Lin has never expressed any wish for him and Stormy to be anything more than friendly acquaintances, but that might be all the more reason for her to be happy with him taking the initiative to rectify that. And if there's one thing Hubert loves doing, it's making Pao-Lin happy.
Even aside from that, though, it's been nice to have Stormy relatively closer by these past few weeks. Of course she could never truly be a substitute for Pao-Lin, but now that Hubert's grown more aware of her presence...the house doesn't seem so agonizingly empty, now.
***
The sensation of someone's hand running through his hair yanks Hubert out of the first good night's sleep he can remember in forever. Alarmed (and a little irked), he sits straight up in bed, on the verge of throttling the offender.
Instead, he finds himself face-to-face with a startled, apologetic Pao-Lin.
"Hi, Hubert," she says. "Sorry if I scared you."
The tension in him drains away, leaving sweet, overjoyed relief. But suddenly confusion spikes through that relief and he's on edge again. Hubert reaches for his glasses and slips them on, squinting at Pao-Lin through the last vestiges of sleep. "You're...back already?" He thought there had been at least a week left...
She mock-pouts at him. "What, you didn't even miss me?"
"That's not it!" he grumbles, running a hand over his face. "Just...ugh, it must've been the recent Shift, it..." He trails off when he suddenly notices Stormy sprawled on his lap, snoozing. When had that happened? He barely remembers even crawling into bed, let alone Stormy climbing onto him. And — when had he fallen asleep in Pao-Lin's bedroom? How embarrassing.
Pao-Lin giggles. "I guess she finally decided you're okay after all."
"...I suppose so," he mutters.
"Did she give you any trouble?"
"Not really. She seemed to miss you greatly, but it was no extreme hardship to accommodate that."
"By sleeping in my bedroom, huh?"
"Yes." Pause, then a hastily-added clarification: "Erm, her, I mean. She was the one who wanted to sleep in your room, not me."
Pao-Lin sits beside him on the bed, regarding Hubert with a serene, knowing smile that he never would have thought her capable of when he first met her. It's an expression he usually sees on people like Malik and Richard. For some reason, however, he doesn't think she learned it from them. "So you decided to keep her company so she'd be even less lonely," she says.
Hubert clears his throat. "Well...yes." By which he means I don't really remember, but bits and pieces are starting to come back to him now. He recalls stumbling home after returning to normal from...whatever the past Shift did to him, and there's a book beside him on the bed so clearly he must've been here to do some reading, as per the usual. Beyond that, though, everything's kind of an exhausted blur. It's maddening to have such glaring holes in his memories, but Hubert's almost afraid to ask someone to patch them up for him.
"I see. Thanks for looking out for her." Another apologetic smile. "I'd hug you, but...I'm kind of smelly."
That's an understatement. Not only does she reek like she hasn't had a decent shower in days, but a fishy stink lingers around her, as well: likely the remnants of her ocean-based cargo loading mission.
Hubert doesn't even care about that now, though. He reaches out to grab her wrist and pull her in for a somewhat awkward but completely earnest hug around her waist, closing his eyes as he leans into her. She's finally home.
Pao-Lin kisses him on the cheek after returning the hug. "I missed you too, silly. I'll go make breakfast."
"What?" Hubert stares in disbelief. "No. Absolutely not. You should clean up and rest. I'll make breakfast."
"No, no, it's fine. If you get up, you'll wake Stormy up."
Hubert glances down at the creature. "She'll wake up regardless. Quite frankly, I'm surprised she hasn't already done so." He would've thought she would've been the first to notice Pao-Lin's return.
"Aww, she probably just thinks you're really comfortable to sleep on." This time her grin is slightly mischievous. "Which I can understand."
Flirtatious teasing: yet another thing Hubert never expected to see from this girl. "Pao-Lin..." he mumbles, feeling himself blush a little.
She laughs and pats him on the shoulder. "Go back to sleep. I'll make rice omelettes for you." And before Hubert can say anything else, Pao-Lin scampers out of the bedroom.
Well...he's not technically complaining about having his wife make him his favorite food. It's a sign that his life is thankfully returning to normal. Still, Pao-Lin just came back from a month of hard labor. She shouldn't have to take on household chores so soon. Part of him admires that dedication to a work ethic, of course, but another, rather less rational part of him just wants to take care of her and make sure she's okay. Both parts, however, agree that he should at least get up and find something else productive to do while Pao-Lin's cooking.
So Hubert slides Stormy off him and carefully sets her aside on the bed, hoping not to wake her. He's surprised to find that he succeeds in this, which is his excuse for why he feels bold enough to rest a hand on her back: the first time he's managed to touch her in such a casual way. He takes notice of the texture of her scales, the warmth of her body, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. It's comforting, he thinks.
At least, until Stormy suddenly wakes up and lunges at him, teeth snapping. Hubert yelps out a curse, summoning Pao-Lin back to the bedroom to save him from Stormy's rage.
Yes. His life is definitely returning to normal...
Fandom: Luceti.
Pairing: I wouldn't bet money on this, but I believe this may be Pao-Lin/Hubert. Just a wild guess, of course. :|;;
Words: 4085.
Summary: With Pao-Lin away on a long mission, Hubert has no choice but to acquaint himself further with the other member of their household.
Rating: W for Why Do I Keep Coming Up With This Shit?
Notes: So there was supposed to be another fic I meant to post soon that would have "properly" introduced the (rather ridiculous) concept of Pao-Lin and Hubert being married, along with referencing Pao-Lin's pet dragon Stormy. But then I got stuck on it and wandered over to do the 1fandom themeset (which introduced both the marriage and Stormy, more or less), and then I got hit with this idea as I was preparing to fall asleep one night (appropriately enough), and then...sigh. Lucetiverse has become this fucking fanfic leviathan. The Lucetiverse Leviathan. Yes.
I confess that isn't one of my more refined works, but I was more concerned with getting the idea out of the way. Apparently I am chronically incapable of writing anything less than three thousand words unless it's a freak of nature or some sort of 1sentence themeset. Sob.
Hubert's not prepared for the loneliness that hits him like a blast of winter air the first night that Pao-Lin is away on a month-long mission.
It doesn't make any sense to him. This won't be the first time he's slept unaccompanied by her presence, after all. They've lived together in House 45 since they got married almost half a year ago (has it really been so long already?), but — as per personal preferences on both their parts — they still maintain separate bedrooms. Their system is simple: if either one of them is open to having company for the night, the door is left open for the other to enter if they wish to do so. As best as Hubert can recall, the time spent sleeping on his own is roughly comparable with the time he spent sharing a bed with Pao-Lin (though memories of the latter tend to stick out rather vividly in his mind, for perhaps obvious reasons). So an empty bed, even after acquiring a wife (he still finds himself astounded that he has one), is no new experience for him.
Yet when Hubert climbs into his bed that first night without Pao-Lin in the house, a nagging sense of wrongness gnaws away at him, dangling him in its jaws over the yawning abyss of sleep without ever letting him drop. After some time spent tossing and turning, he gets up with a grumble and heads for his study, intending to clear his mind with some reading. But fatigue refuses to let him get through more than a few pages of even the lightest reading without his eyelids drooping and his head throbbing. So he resigns himself to a restless night. His mood only worsens when he wakes up the next morning and realizes that there's no chance he's going to get his usual cheery greeting from Pao-Lin either today or anytime soon.
Hubert tries to forget about his empty house by staying out of it as much as possible once he's made sure Stormy is provided for in terms of food and water for the day. He lengthens his training sessions, he visits Asbel and the others at House 28, he camps out in the library for reading, and he even stops at Good Spirits during the evening sometimes. But inevitably, he has to come home to sleep. And inevitably, on the way to his own bedroom, he has to pass by the closed door to Pao-Lin's.
He's always struck by the urge to open the door and go inside whenever he does so. Most of the time he shakes it off as a temporary lapse in sanity and strolls by, but one night Hubert finds himself actually gripping the doorknob as he considers whether or not he should enter. Pao-Lin's bedroom is deeply personalized, much more so than his, and so — despite having been inside multiple times before — walking in without her knowledge feels too much like the architectural equivalent of reading her diary (not that she keeps one).
But...surely it can't hurt to at least look inside, right? To check that her belongings are still present, and therefore she still remains in this strange world of wings and cycles and Shifts in reality?
Yes. That seems reasonable. It's best to discover any unfortunate news as swiftly as possible, instead of clinging to baseless hope.
With a twist of his wrist and a sudden pang of panic in his chest, Hubert turns the doorknob and pushes.
To his utter relief (which might have been mild annoyance in any other situation), Hubert's greeted by the sight of Pao-Lin's dirty laundry scattered on the floor. His eyes register her small collection of stuffed animals on a shelf, her tray of hairpins on her dresser, her Hero staff leaning against a corner. The room even smells faintly of the lotion she uses after showering, and when Hubert catches wind of it, he feels further reassured.
Which is all the more reason that he shuts the door as fast as possible after opening it. He's confirmed what he needed to; there's no point in lingering except to pacify the clingy, anxious child he thought he long left behind him.
Investigating the state of Pao-Lin's bedroom quickly becomes integrated into Hubert's routine. He checks once as he heads to the kitchen to make breakfast, and he checks again before heading to bed. He tries to approach the task with the same mundane mindset that he has when he feeds Stormy or waters the flowerboxes outside, but his heart always clenches when his hand does on the doorknob the moment before he opens the door.
One day, in an attempt to further legitimize the action as something other than an irrational tic, Hubert sits down and forces himself to think through the steps he'd take were his worst fears to be confirmed. It doesn't take long, considering that he'd actually gone through them once before about two years ago: check for letters or other such sentimental paraphernalia that might be left behind, announce Pao-Lin's departure over the journals and address those she might have bequeathed something to, continue with regular routine. Now, however, he'd have to add finding a second caretaker for Stormy (assuming that Pao-Lin wouldn't ask him to look after Stormy himself, which he prays she doesn't), and, most likely, making arrangements to move back into House 28.
Far from placating him, however, the thought exercise puts him in such a foul mood that when Hubert goes to check Pao-Lin's bedroom that night, he tosses aside all pretenses of maturity and rationality and walks right inside. He climbs onto her bed, pulls his knees up to his chest, and rests his head in his arms, trying desperately to pretend that he doesn't miss Pao-Lin as much as he does, that he hadn't grown so used to having her around that he could no longer fathom what his days would be like otherwise until it actually happened. A pointless venture, of course: if it were that easy to wish away loneliness, he would have already done so. In fact, he would have learned it in the seven years he lived under Garrett Oswell's shadow.
Hubert doesn't intend to fall asleep in Pao-Lin's bedroom. But he's exhausted from both general melancholy and the daily grind, and being surrounded by her spirit (for lack of a better term) lifts the disquiet that's weighed him down and prevented him from sleeping well the past couple of nights. Feeling more at ease than he has in recent memory, he can't help but sink into dreamland for a bit, despite the less-than-ideal position he's taken up.
He jerks awake when he realizes, to his shame, that he'd fallen asleep. Frowning at the stiffness in his neck, he lifts a hand to massage it away...which is when he notices Stormy lying next to him on one of the pillows.
"..." The little dragon, about the size of a housecat, blinks lethargically up at Hubert. Her tail flops back and forth on the mattress like a mopey metronome.
Hubert stares at her for a little bit, studying her with a cautious sort of fascination. Pao-Lin's had Stormy for at least two years now (a reward earned for successfully completing multiple missions from the Malnosso), but Hubert still doesn't know much about her. Insofar as much as one can get to know an animal, anyway. He certainly has personal experience with the dragon's protective streak towards her mistress, and in sharing the house with her he knows of Stormy's daily needs, preferences, and patterns (with Pao-Lin filling in any gaps in his knowledge before leaving on her mission). But Hubert's never developed a personal connection with her the way Pao-Lin has, and has never felt much of a need to. Ultimately, she's under Pao-Lin's domain, not his. He generally regards Stormy with a sense of pragmatic apathy. She's all right — when she's not making a mess somewhere or interrupting his closer moments with Pao-Lin or anything like that.
"I suppose you miss Pao-Lin," he says.
Stormy tilts her head slightly, roused by his voice.
And now Hubert's stuck for words, because how do you talk to a dragon? Stormy seems to comprehend human speech most of the time, but she can't respond in such a fashion, so it isn't as though one could hold a proper conversation with her. He sighs and fixes his glasses, pinching the bridge of it between his index and middle fingers to reposition it comfortably.
"Well, there's no need to sulk about it," he continues sternly, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up to leave. "She'll be back soon enough." Before he closes the door behind him, he checks to see if Stormy's following. It'd be unfortunate, to say the least, if he incurred her wrath right before bedtime by accidentally smacking her with the door.
But Stormy seems to be making herself comfortable for the night. After settling better into the pillow, she closes her eyes and curls her tail around herself.
Well, Hubert supposes it's the logical leap from sleeping just outside Pao-Lin's bedroom door, which Stormy had taken to doing after Pao-Lin left. Much to his consternation, he finds himself a bit jealous: he certainly can't get away with sleeping in Pao-Lin's bed while she's not around. Not without looking (and feeling) more than a little pathetic.
He opts to leave the door open this time, in case Stormy suddenly wakes up in the middle of the night and feels the urge to wander. Cooping her up could spell bad news for Pao-Lin's bedroom, and he wouldn't want her to come home from a grueling mission to a dragon-made disaster area.
Hubert actually ends up just leaving the door open, period. It makes it easier for him to confirm Pao-Lin's continued presence.
On the other hand, it isn't like he needs the constant reminder of what's missing in his life right now. His attempts at sleep remain fitful, less like an actual night's rest and more like a laboriously drawn-out facsimile of a nap. He can't believe that he's been thrown off-kilter by such a simple change to his days (never mind that this isn't the first time such a circumstance has happened to him — but denial is the most well-worn tool in his coping toolbox). Yet it's only when he throws up a second white flag of surrender and takes his nighttime reading to Pao-Lin's bedroom that he feels anywhere near close to "normal" again. True, the clutter of the room is begging to be cleared out, but — it's Pao-Lin's clutter and that's what matters. It's enough to get him to finally, truly relax into his reading. So much so, in fact, that he doesn't notice Stormy fluttering into the room and alighting on the bed.
She doesn't lie down, though. Instead, she pads over to him and rests her chin in the crook of his elbow, as if to peek at his book.
Startled out of his literary reverie, Hubert just barely refrains from flinching in surprise. He furrows his brows slightly as he glances down at her.
"What is it?" he asks. "Are you hungry? I just fed you."
When Stormy doesn't respond in either a gestural or quasi-verbal way, Hubert gets up and checks her food dish in case she's polished the entire thing off since he refreshed it. But the dish is still reasonably filled.
Hubert turns and crouches down to get a better look at Stormy, who's followed him from the bedroom. Is she ill? he wonders. She doesn't seem like it, as far as he can tell. Of course, he's no expert on what constitutes aberrant draconic behavior. He's only going off his casual knowledge of more traditional pets like dogs and cats. A sensible enough start, since some of Stormy's mannerisms do remind him a little of Tiger Festival at times. Still, surely there must be differences somewhere due to physiology...
With no light shed on the matter, he returns to Pao-Lin's bedroom to resume his reading. Stormy plops herself next to him again, head resting on his arm, and this time Hubert opts to ignore her for the time being. Perhaps she's bored, he muses. Not that he believes she's reading along with him or anything like that (he's pretty sure dragons can't read). More likely, the creature's grown bored of her own company, and as such is craving the presence of another. Her first choice for companionship is gone, however, so Stormy has no choice but to settle for Hubert.
Well. It's not an arrangement he would have suggested, but it's not one he's going to argue against, either. Especially if it means that she'll stop snapping at him for inexplicable offenses.
Alas, when Hubert reaches out and attempts to pet Stormy, she jerks away and hisses before turning her back on him. She flops onto her claimed pillow, wings folding tight against her back.
Hubert heaves a dramatic sigh and snaps his book shut, deciding to get ready for bed. Clearly he's pushed his dragon-befriending boundaries a little too far.
Yet this, too, becomes a new ritual, reading in Pao-Lin's bedroom with Stormy next to him before heading off to bed. It won't be long now until Pao-Lin returns, but this only makes him more impatient for her to come back. Stormy seems a little more agitated, as well. She's taken to accompanying Hubert sometimes, hovering by his side as he goes to get groceries or return library books or even just for a walk. Sometimes she even ends up following him to his bedroom, though once she realizes he's settling in for the night, she returns to Pao-Lin's room. Hubert doesn't blame her, of course, even if he has grown fonder of her lately — fond enough that he finds a book on dragons from the library and flips through it one night to finally learn more about the third member of the Oswell household in Luceti.
"I don't suppose any of these are your kin, are they?" Hubert inquires idly as he studies a page featuring full-color illustrations of different dragons.
Stormy just trills at him.
Hm. Was that a negative or an affirmative? Maybe he should also look into a book on interpreting dragon "language", as it were. Come to think of it, their wizard neighbor likely has such a resource, considering that he also has a pet dragon. Hubert makes a mental note to talk to Helios at some point as he lets his fingers rest on a picture of a purple-scaled dragon — the one that looks most similar to Stormy. Color is about the only thing the two have in common, however. The dragon in the book has a colorful crest on its head, as opposed to Stormy's nubby horns, and its belly is bright gold instead of deep red. Its claws and teeth look leagues nastier, as well, though Hubert supposes it's possible that Stormy could mature into those attributes. But he sincerely hopes not. That would be rather hard on their house, to say nothing about what she could do to him if he unwittingly annoyed her again.
Another day sees Hubert returning early from a training session due to a mysterious glitch in the Battle Dome's simulators causing all simulations to look disgustingly blocky and featureless. He passes by Stormy snoozing in one of the flowerboxes on the front porch, and makes his way to the bathroom to clean up before situating himself in his study to work on deciphering the code used in documents recently retrieved from an abandoned Malnosso facility. He's looking forward to the challenge. Training his body is all well and good, but ultimately he relishes things that test his smarts.
Not ten minutes into his work, however, Stormy shows up in the doorway, her tail wagging happily. She's got a brightly-colored striped ball in her mouth.
It takes Hubert a few moments to truly register what he's seeing. Is she really asking him to play fetch with her?
"I'm busy at the moment," he responds, turning back to his desk. "Perhaps later." He's actually just hoping that the little dragon will find a way to entertain herself and forget all about bothering him.
But Stormy just trots across the floor to lay down by his feet, the ball cradled between her claws. She's still there an hour and a half later when Hubert gets up to acquire a snack from the kitchen. And when he returns with a plate of apple slices, she's there to greet him at the door, the ball back in her mouth.
He frowns slightly. She's still insistent on this? He walks past her to return to his work, but she parks herself by his feet again, waiting expectantly like a puppy dog. A scaly puppy dog with the ability to breathe fire. An ability that she has thankfully not indulged in lately, but...
"..."
Hubert sighs and gives his glasses a resigned nudge as he glances sidelong at Stormy. Perhaps it would be wise to appease her for a bit, he decides. Engaging in a game of fetch doesn't require much effort either physically or mentally, after all, so he can still do his work. The main issue is being constantly disrupted by Stormy returning the ball to him, but those moments should be acceptably brief.
So Hubert takes his work and his snack and heads outside to the back of the house, where there'll be more room for Stormy to play. He continues to scribble and think and revise in between throwing the ball into the woods and waiting for Stormy to come back with it. Eventually, however, he can't take any more of the Malnosso's apparent nonsense, so he contents himself with just watching Stormy flit about chasing after her precious toy. The experience is...pleasant, if a little strange for him because of its idle nature. But he thinks he can understand why Pao-Lin enjoys it.
The thought occurs to him then that Pao-Lin might be delighted to learn that he's finally making an effort to establish rapport with her beloved pet. It's true that Pao-Lin has never expressed any wish for him and Stormy to be anything more than friendly acquaintances, but that might be all the more reason for her to be happy with him taking the initiative to rectify that. And if there's one thing Hubert loves doing, it's making Pao-Lin happy.
Even aside from that, though, it's been nice to have Stormy relatively closer by these past few weeks. Of course she could never truly be a substitute for Pao-Lin, but now that Hubert's grown more aware of her presence...the house doesn't seem so agonizingly empty, now.
The sensation of someone's hand running through his hair yanks Hubert out of the first good night's sleep he can remember in forever. Alarmed (and a little irked), he sits straight up in bed, on the verge of throttling the offender.
Instead, he finds himself face-to-face with a startled, apologetic Pao-Lin.
"Hi, Hubert," she says. "Sorry if I scared you."
The tension in him drains away, leaving sweet, overjoyed relief. But suddenly confusion spikes through that relief and he's on edge again. Hubert reaches for his glasses and slips them on, squinting at Pao-Lin through the last vestiges of sleep. "You're...back already?" He thought there had been at least a week left...
She mock-pouts at him. "What, you didn't even miss me?"
"That's not it!" he grumbles, running a hand over his face. "Just...ugh, it must've been the recent Shift, it..." He trails off when he suddenly notices Stormy sprawled on his lap, snoozing. When had that happened? He barely remembers even crawling into bed, let alone Stormy climbing onto him. And — when had he fallen asleep in Pao-Lin's bedroom? How embarrassing.
Pao-Lin giggles. "I guess she finally decided you're okay after all."
"...I suppose so," he mutters.
"Did she give you any trouble?"
"Not really. She seemed to miss you greatly, but it was no extreme hardship to accommodate that."
"By sleeping in my bedroom, huh?"
"Yes." Pause, then a hastily-added clarification: "Erm, her, I mean. She was the one who wanted to sleep in your room, not me."
Pao-Lin sits beside him on the bed, regarding Hubert with a serene, knowing smile that he never would have thought her capable of when he first met her. It's an expression he usually sees on people like Malik and Richard. For some reason, however, he doesn't think she learned it from them. "So you decided to keep her company so she'd be even less lonely," she says.
Hubert clears his throat. "Well...yes." By which he means I don't really remember, but bits and pieces are starting to come back to him now. He recalls stumbling home after returning to normal from...whatever the past Shift did to him, and there's a book beside him on the bed so clearly he must've been here to do some reading, as per the usual. Beyond that, though, everything's kind of an exhausted blur. It's maddening to have such glaring holes in his memories, but Hubert's almost afraid to ask someone to patch them up for him.
"I see. Thanks for looking out for her." Another apologetic smile. "I'd hug you, but...I'm kind of smelly."
That's an understatement. Not only does she reek like she hasn't had a decent shower in days, but a fishy stink lingers around her, as well: likely the remnants of her ocean-based cargo loading mission.
Hubert doesn't even care about that now, though. He reaches out to grab her wrist and pull her in for a somewhat awkward but completely earnest hug around her waist, closing his eyes as he leans into her. She's finally home.
Pao-Lin kisses him on the cheek after returning the hug. "I missed you too, silly. I'll go make breakfast."
"What?" Hubert stares in disbelief. "No. Absolutely not. You should clean up and rest. I'll make breakfast."
"No, no, it's fine. If you get up, you'll wake Stormy up."
Hubert glances down at the creature. "She'll wake up regardless. Quite frankly, I'm surprised she hasn't already done so." He would've thought she would've been the first to notice Pao-Lin's return.
"Aww, she probably just thinks you're really comfortable to sleep on." This time her grin is slightly mischievous. "Which I can understand."
Flirtatious teasing: yet another thing Hubert never expected to see from this girl. "Pao-Lin..." he mumbles, feeling himself blush a little.
She laughs and pats him on the shoulder. "Go back to sleep. I'll make rice omelettes for you." And before Hubert can say anything else, Pao-Lin scampers out of the bedroom.
Well...he's not technically complaining about having his wife make him his favorite food. It's a sign that his life is thankfully returning to normal. Still, Pao-Lin just came back from a month of hard labor. She shouldn't have to take on household chores so soon. Part of him admires that dedication to a work ethic, of course, but another, rather less rational part of him just wants to take care of her and make sure she's okay. Both parts, however, agree that he should at least get up and find something else productive to do while Pao-Lin's cooking.
So Hubert slides Stormy off him and carefully sets her aside on the bed, hoping not to wake her. He's surprised to find that he succeeds in this, which is his excuse for why he feels bold enough to rest a hand on her back: the first time he's managed to touch her in such a casual way. He takes notice of the texture of her scales, the warmth of her body, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. It's comforting, he thinks.
At least, until Stormy suddenly wakes up and lunges at him, teeth snapping. Hubert yelps out a curse, summoning Pao-Lin back to the bedroom to save him from Stormy's rage.
Yes. His life is definitely returning to normal...
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In seriousness, though, it's really interesting to see the way you tie his personality as an adult to his personality as a child. There's such a sharp break between the childhood and adult arcs in Graces that sometimes connecting the two versions of Hubert together can be a little difficult. This provides a very interesting link; you really did an impressive job of working at what makes this little ball of issues tick.
Though, relatedly, it's quite sad that Hubert can't even allow himself to miss his wife without repressing the hell out of his feelings. Garret really did a number on him there.
The gradual truce with Stormy was also really cute to see--especially since it only lasted as long as Pao-Lin remain out of the house. A dragon has her pride, after all. :|b
So yes! Cute and sad--just the way I like it~ ♥ RITE MOAR PLZ? :D?
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I think that the games shows the connection between the two via his tsundere towards Asbel and his (mostly unsuccessful) attempts at hiding his otaku side, but what it doesn't touch on as much is how lonely he must've been during those seven years. He wouldn't have been as badly off if he'd had a more supportive adoptive family, but considering that this is Garrett that we're talking about, all Hubert probably really learned how to do was to obsessively deny that he even had any issues with being lonely or upset in general in the first place.
Of course he can't miss his wife! There's no place for love in a marriage, so why would any husband miss his wife? :|a
Always. :|b But it's still a step up from where the two were before! I foresee Stormy using Hubert as a lounge chair more often (as long as he doesn't touch her :|a).
You want more cute and sad? Wait 'til I tell you more about what I've figured out about Ursita on AIM~
no subject
Seriously.
There's no place for love in a marriage, so why would any husband miss his wife? :|a
Beats the hell out of me. Marriage is simply the union of two individuals for mutually beneficial purposes, correct?
I foresee Stormy using Hubert as a lounge chair more often (as long as he doesn't touch her :|a).
Lucky Hubert. XD
Wait 'til I tell you more about what I've figured out about Ursita on AIM~
Or via e-mail--that works too! (Speaking of which, I should probably send a reply to that. :D;;)