Fire Emblem Fictions

Lon’qu was stiff around his daughter. She was only a few weeks old; barely a month. But he was hesitant to hold her; on the mornings you could crack an eye open when he went to change her, he would hesitate to lift her from the cradle.

If she made a sound of displeasure, be it a cry or a grumble, his shoulders tensed up.

He looked guilty when taking care of her.

And you were determined to figure out why.

It was the morning of the harvest festival in Ferox, and Morgan was raring to go. A costume obviously had to be pieced together, ever since Basilio mentioned how fun it was to dress up and act a fool (Morgan refused to go without a costume after that, much to his aparents' dismay).

Lon’qu was finishing the needlework on the costume; naturally he would be dressed as a swordmaster to match his father.

“You can go if you want to, Robin."

He did not look up from his work when he spoke, but clearly had felt your gaze from the living room doorway.

You leaned against the frame, arms free of your toddler or your newborn who were both napping peacefully in the room over; the perfect opportunity to evaluate your husband's odd behavior.

“I can’t. Someone has to stay and watch Marc; she’s still too young to leave the house.”

“I will stay with her, then.” He offered. You stepped into the den, moving to sit down beside him.

“I appreciate the offer, but I don't know if you could handle her all by yourself. I’d feel terrible if there was an emergency and you couldn’t get a hold of me.”

“If something does happen, I'll find you. But I can handle it- you speak as though she'll be doing anything other than eating and sleeping. Do something fun for a change and enjoy the festival with Morgan.”

You smiled softly, nudging his shoulder. “Thank you for the offer, but I should stay. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable on your own."

His needlework paused, and he cast a wary glance at you.

“What are you talking about? We’ll be fine.”

“Will you?” 

He set the fabric down completely, frown deepening.

“...Why are you asking?”

“Because you seem a bit…tense, when you’re taking care of her.” You explained carefully, “I worry that you’re putting too much pressure on yourself.”

“I’m not tense- I’m just…” He trailed off, putting a hand to his forehead. “It’s stupid. I just keep thinking about that…that day.”

You rested a hand on his shoulder, gently trying to draw his attention back to you. 

“What day?”

“When she was born, and I…froze.” 

Ah.

That made a lot of sense.

“I thought I’d be all right, but every now and then, I think about it. And the way you looked at me when you…it all just…I'll be fine for a day or two, but then I see Marc, and the thought of it- a wave of dread hits me out of nowhere. And it doesn't go away for ages.”

“My love.”

Your hand slipped from his shoulder to take his hand. Anguished eyes fell to your intertwined fingers, though his grimace only deepened.

“I know you love Marc. And she loves you. It was unfortunate that you had a difficult first meeting. But look at you now; you take such good care of her, and you keep her safe and warm just like Morgan.”

“But…what kind of father is so afraid of his own child? Who makes his wife cry after everything else she went through that day?”

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t remember it very well..” You joked, gently squeezing his hand. “But even if I did, it wouldn’t trouble me, because I woke up to see you holding her. I know you’re not afraid of her...but you are afraid for her.”

“I…am.” His breath shook." He squeezed your hand. “W-what made me freeze was…the thought of her being hurt. If there comes a day where I can’t protect her, and…if something ever happened to Marc, I…”

“Lon’qu, nothing will happen to her. She’s safe here, with us, and she lives in a peaceful kingdom. We made sure of that.”

“But we can’t know that- what if something happens in the future? Peace is all well and good, but brigands still exist. Roving bandits, wild boars, wyverns-”

“Darling, breathe.” You took his other hand, standing in front of him to draw his focus. His breath had quickened suddenly, his eyes losing focus.

“If anything happened to her I’d never forgive myself. I couldn’t live knowing Marc was hurt or- or worse! I've seen worse, Robin, I’ve seen it with you, with…!”

He was drawn into your embrace within seconds of his spiral. He held you tightly, desperately trying to fight the unraveling.

He had lost so much. He had lost you mere years ago. Of course he was still fighting those demons. 

Guilt twisted in your heart. “I’m sorry, Lon’qu. I should’ve considered that. I guess things were calm for so long, I assumed everything was okay…” 

“It was okay- I was fine, but I just…I don’t know. Having Morgan didn’t stir that anxiety in me. Not like it did with Marc. I know it’s not rational, and I know deep down she’ll be all right, because we’re both here. But these damn feelings are so vexing. They're paralyzing.”

You nodded, stroking his hair gently.

“You're right; fear like this is irrational. But that doesn’t make it any less real. So please don’t beat yourself up. What matters is that you’re trying, and you’re here for her now. Having a rough start doesn’t mean you won’t have a good relationship later."

Lon’qu exhaled, long and slow, focusing on the comforting feeling of your fingers winding through his coarse hair.

“...I suppose you would know that better than most.”

You chuckled. “I certainly do, considering who I married.”

“I doubt I’ll ever stop apologizing for the first time we met.” 

You tugged his hair playfully, “Oh, stop. You’ve long since made up for it, dear. Besides, it also means I get to tell the children how we met when they ask. That’ll be your penance.”

“Ugh…” He groaned against your laughter. “I suppose that’s fair…but they’ll definitely hate me.”

“Nonsense. When they see how much you love me and how you take such good care of us, they’ll surely think I’m making it all up.” You kissed his forehead, beaming at your beloved.

At that, he finally smiled. “That sounds nice.”

That heart-to-heart seemed to give him some peace of mind. The hesitation faded a little more each day.

When she cried or grumbled to voice her baby displeasure, Lon’qu found it more adorable (and annoying on the days with less patience or sleep), rather than frightening.

“What happened??” 

“I do not know, but she can't stop crying. I fear she may have hurt herself, or worse.” You replied as you both hit the stairs. 

You rushed up, skipping two steps at a time to keep up with Felix’s ever-increasing speed. Though to be fair, it did seem to be an emergency.

He could hear her wails through the bedroom doors. She was only three months old-- what could possibly have upset her so badly?!

Felix burst into the room with a hand on his blade,  ready to take down whoever had hurt his daughter.

To his surprise, it was just Flayn, trying to soothe the baby in her arms. So far it wasn’t working.

She was startled by the sudden entrance, but it gave way to relief when she saw the parents hurrying to her and the caterwauling baby.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re back! I’m sorry, Archbishop, I really tried, but nothing will calm her down!”

“It’s fine, Flayn. I didn’t expect you to. When she gets like this, there’s only one person who can.” You replied cryptically as you reached for the baby.

Flayn was more than happy to hand her over, though the crying did not stop even in her mother’s arms. Felix pressed close, running his hand over her hair, searching for the source of her anguish.

“Is she hungry? Or did she eat something she wasn’t supposed to? Was she bitten by something??” His touch seemed to catch the little girl’s attention, her loud crying slowly turning into sniffled sobs. 

“No, she’s not hungry or hurt. She just wanted to see you.” 

His face blanched when you passed the baby to him. Almost as soon as she was held by her father, the crying stopped.

“I…what?” 

Father and daughter stared blankly at each other, though his daughter’s wide, tear-rimmed eyes were far cuter than his.

He looked between Eisner and his wife, deeply confused by the situation. You simply shrugged, gesturing at the three-month-old.

“When she’s inconsolable like that, it’s usually because she misses you.” 

“What? How do you-?” He racked his brain, trying to think of a time when this happened before. There had been some times where she was fussy when you held her, but nothing like this.

Flayn giggled, “Does this mean she likes you better than the Archbishop? What a surprise!”

“I knew she’d be a daddy’s girl from the first day." You smiled at them, watching Felix’s face slowly turn red. “Don’t you remember how she wailed when she was born? But as soon as you got your hands on her, she fell right asleep.”

“How sweet!!”

“All right, all right-”

“And every time she wakes up in the night crying, Felix takes care of her. Unless she needs to eat, of course.”

“W-well I’m not gonna make you take care of her on top of everything else you do! You need your rest more than anybody!”

“I know,” You reached up to cup his blushing face (which only made it worse), “That’s why I know you’re her favorite. She knows you’ll take care of her.”

Flayn’s squeal was barely suppressed- which only served to bring Felix closer to bursting into flames.

“Enough! Don’t you have other duties to tend to?!” 

“I suppose I do, milord.” She curtsied with an impish grin, “Do let me know if the two of you require any assistance! Though it seems you’re fine now that Papa’s here.”

“You-!!” 

“That’ll be all, Flayn.” You dismissed her with a chuckle. The silly girl made a break for the door before Felix could throw something.

He glared sharply at you, turning his nose up at his ridiculous wife.

“Honestly, why do you encourage her? You couldn’t let me keep a shred of dignity today?”

“What do you mean? I think it’s incredibly dignified that you’re such an attentive father. Do you think it’s embarrassing?”

“Of course I don’t.” He snapped, “I just...don’t need Flayn running around telling other people about it. Sylvain would mock me for years if he knew I sprinted across campus because my daughter cried.”

“If he tries to tease you about it, you can make fun of him for being a deadbeat.”

“He’s not a deadbeat, he’s just a moron.” He huffed, bouncing the gurgling baby girl. “Besides, it’s your day off. You shouldn’t have to worry about anything and resting properly.”

“Well we were, until she wanted to see you. And now I’m sure you realize that when she wants you, she’s unstoppable.”

Felix smiled softly at his little daughter. “Yes, I suppose I do. Thank you for making it clear which parent is your favorite, Eisner.”

“Whoa, now…I didn’t say anything about being the favorite.” You nudged his shoulder, “She just prefers your company when she’s upset. She sees you more as a nursemaid than anything else.”

“No, you’ve made it clear, as has my daughter. She prefers her father’s love over her mother…which is completely reasonable.”

You shook your head, watching the little girl’s eyes sparkle at her father’s smile. “Oh, dear…I fear we’ve created a monster, Eisner.”

“Don’t try to win her over now- she won’t be swayed from her father’s love.” His chest puffed with pride, all while planting a barrage of kisses to her chubby little cheeks. “Now is there anything else you need? Or should you get back to lazing around while I tend to our child?”

“I just needed you to make her stop crying. You can get back to work. It’s not your day off.” You reminded him with a cheeky grin, though Felix was unconvinced.

“If I leave again she'll cry, will she not? Perhaps I ought to stay. I can afford a half day to make sure you’re not doing anything strenuous.”

“If you’re offering to spend the rest of the day with your girls…we would be happy to have you.” You wrapped an arm around his waist, tousling Eisner’s hair.

Felix leaned over, kissing the top of your head. “Let me head back to the office to finish up a few things, then the rest of my day is yours.”

“Shall I take Eisner until you-”

“No, no. Best she come with me. Wouldn’t want her to start crying again while she’s waiting for her favorite parent to come back.”

“...On second thought, maybe we don’t want you to stay with-”

“Too late! It’s been decided.” He grinned, turning on his heel with his giggling little daughter in tow. “Come along, Eisner. Let’s take care of business.”

You shook your head in disbelief, watching the man you married march from the room with a babbling baby in tow. 

Whether he admitted it or not, he was over the moon that Eisner was so comforted by her father. And he would gladly cross oceans and mountains just to dry her tears. A little sprint across the monastery was nothing.

Said father had unfortunately far too many duties to ignore. While he did his best to be with you as often as he could for the first week, the second week of Lucina’s life couldn’t hold off the demands of work any longer.

But it wouldn’t stop him from hurrying back to the chambers eary, though.

Which is precisely what happened that evening. 

The doors to your shared bedroom quietly pushed open, and a very dashing young Exalt peered inside.

“Robin? Are you awake?” His voice was so gentle, which always warmed your heart. 

You caught his eye from across the room, motioning for him to join you and the swaddled baby blue bird in your arms.

“I haven’t slept since you checked on us this afternoon.” You patted the spot on the bed beside you, “And don’t worry about staying quiet; Lucina’s awake, too.”

“Neither of you should be, but Lucina being awake is the most surprising.” Chrom remarked as he unclasped his cape and pulled off his boots before coming to the bed. The mattress creaked under his knee, while he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“How do you feel?” 

“I am well.” You assured him, “Lissa and Maribelle gave us a clean bill of health for her 14-day check. Lucina’s gaining weight as she should, and all this bed rest has my healing on schedule.”

He smiled, “I’m glad to hear you’re both doing so well. I only wish I could’ve attended, too.” 

“It was only a routine appointment; I doubt it would’ve been all that interesting for you.”

“Are you kidding? I think about what you two are doing all day!”

“You miss us that much, huh?” You joked, but it was quite true. Chrom bowed his head with a sigh, all but sinking down beside you.

“You have no idea…Frederick’s done his best to take care of what he could, but there’s still a mountain of work I have to handle. Even if I wanted to stay here with you two, I'd likely be dragged away.”

“I’m sorry you have to work so hard. I wish you could take some time off with us…or that I could at least pick up some slack. Surely there are some approvals that the queen’s seal is good enough for.”

Chrom smiled some, leaning his head against yours. “It’s the thought that counts. If I could have my way I wouldn’t leave this room for a month!”

“I think you might get a bit stir crazy.” You joked, but Chrom wouldn’t have it.

“Hmm...maybe if we were stuck in here, specifically. So instead, I'll just whisk the two of you away up into the mountains, somewhere. Royal duties be damned.” Gentle fingers brushed along Lucina’s pink cheek, making the newborn squeak and squirm. “Although I fear Frederick would track us down in less than a day.”

“Best not to test our luck.” You chuckled. Chrom wrapped his arm around you, drawing his girls close.

“I’ll just have to make do with the time I’ve got now…and maybe see if I can’t guilt the other nobles into letting me sneak away earlier.  I hate to leave you alone for so long.”

“It’s not so bad. Lucina is a very peaceful baby. But if you're offering to change her nappies, I won’t fight you.”

“If that is what you need me to do, of course I will!” 

You watched her little face twist in displeasure, threatening you with a cry that would surely take a long time to soothe. She hadn't been the center of attention for nearly 10 minutes, by now!

But Chrom was quick- he slipped his arm from your shoulders to take up the little bundle, rising back to his feet so he might soothe her with a gentle bounce and walk about the room.

“Really? The Exalt of Ylisse would change a baby’s blowout?

“Er…well, I…may need a little bit of educating, but if you insist…”

The blush on his face was simply adorable. You fell back into the pillows with a giggle. “To think I married such a chivalrous and capable man. There are few who would be willing to take on such a dangerous task, let alone the ruler of the kingdom!”

“To be fair, I don’t think there’s a single Shepherd that wouldn’t change their baby; Frederick and Phila both wouldn’t have allowed passive fathers into the army to begin with.” Chrom mused, cuddling the still-squirming newborn close. “Isn’t that right, Luci? He would string me up by my toes if I made Mama do everything…er, if we didn’t have nursemaids to help.”

“Honestly I think he would be more mortified that the royal parents are even considering doing anything like that. It feels a little unfair…” 

Chrom quieted the little girl without effort; in moments she was snoozing happily against her father’s strong heartbeat, snuggled safe and sound. 

Carefully he returned to your side, settling into his side of the bed. Your head fell to his shoulder, the two of you gazing at the sweet princess.

“You know…if you really wanted to raise her in a more hands-on way, we could discuss it. Emmeryn practically raised Lissa and I, between how our parents were and the state of the kingdom during that war...well, you know."

“I won’t lie, it would be wonderful to raise her like a semi-normal family. But we don’t have to worry about that right now.”

“No?”

“Maribelle won’t let me lift a finger until Lucina’s at least a month old. Do you really want to take her on?” 

A shiver ran down his spine. “Ah…no, I don’t believe so. Best to stay put than face her fury.” 

Another chuckle. “Good answer.”

The two of you settled in for the evening, fawning over your beautiful girl, wondering what kind of person she might grow up to be.

And Maribelle would be quite pleased to find you continuing to rest…but lamented Chrom having come in to harass the queen and princess (honestly, couldn’t he see he was keeping you up?! How inconsiderate!)-- ah, well. At least you all looked happy cuddled into bed, together.

So you surrendered to your fate, knowing Seteth would not be in bed that night. He remained buried in paperwork until he had to join you at some ceremony or gathering or whatever was expected of such an important public servant.

Since the war's end two years ago, this was your life. But unlike Seteth, you had reached a point where you could carve out peaceful times of day, and could get more than four hours of sleep at night.

While the reconstruction of Fodlan was top priority for most of that time, the demand of the job had finally started to slow down.

Seteth could also afford to slow down now, you thought. If the Archbishop could find time to breathe, surely her second in command could, too.

Such was your reasoning while heading to his office one rainy afternoon.

The weather was dull and dreary; perfect for an afternoon nap. With your own duties cleared until later that night, you planned to have Seteth join you.

A couple inquiries along the way confirmed he was toiling away in the office. When you arrived, the closed doors did not deter you.

Two polite raps against them didn’t get a response. You sighed to yourself; he was definitely buried deep in his work.

Testing the handle led it to open without resistance. And the scene that greeted you was your beloved…buried under the parchment, as always.

“Forgive the intrustion…may I come in?”

Your voice did the trick. His hunched shoulders suddenly straightened, brows raised when sharp green eyes locked on yours.

“Byleth!” His surprise gave way to a pleasant smile, “Apologies, I didn’t hear the door. By all means, come in.” 

“Thank you,” The doors clicked shut behind you. Seteth rose from his chair with a stretch that resulted in an audible pop- startling you both.

“I take it you’ve not stood up in a while, dear?”

“Perhaps I’ve been sat here longer than I thought.” He replied, sheepish from his body’s complaint. “Nothing some stretches can’t fix.”

“Would you consider taking a break?” You asked as he rounded the desk, leaned against the wood frame. He opened an arm to welcome you to his side, which you were glad to accept. 

It was something of an open secret that you were together. You maintained a polite distance in front of students, but behind closed doors you could be a bit more affectionate.

Well, as much as Seteth would allow before his shyness got the better of him.

For now, though, you were glad to settle against him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“...Hm. You feel a little thinner, Seteth. Have you been eating properly?

“Well-” He hesitated, though he grew flustered when you glared. “I have not missed any meals on purpose! I simply…you know.”

“I can see how that might have happened.” You gestured to the stacks of parchment all around you. “...Are you certain I can’t take some of this off your hands? This is far more paperwork than any one man should do. Especially if it’s interfering with your health.”

“I have suffered through worse, I assure you.” He sighed, “But I would be lying if I said this wasn’t a bit overwhelming.”

“So I can help?”

“No, no. It’s fine, I assure you. It simply means I must work harder to clear it away!”

“Dearest…” You felt him shift under your warning tone. “You've been working hard for several days. I suspected you were overdoing it again, but now it’s clear. Which means you don’t get to say no to any of my plans for the day.”

“Oh, no. You have plans for us?” He frowned, dreading the derailment of his schedule. “I have several deadlines due tonight, Byleth. I cannot afford to shirk my duties. And if I recall correctly, you have meetings this evening.”

“I do- which is why my plot need only occur this afternoon.” 

“...Plot?”

“Indeed. My plot to drag you to bed and nap with me.”

“Nap-?” He repeated with a scoff. You pulled back to look at him indignantly. “We aren't children! Why would we do that?”

“Because you hardly come to bed at a decent hour, and I haven’t seen you outside of meetings in days. You are gone before I wake, and you’re in bed after I’m asleep-- assuming there are days you get there, at all!” 

“I suppose…you are not wrong, but-”

“I want to spend time with you outside our obligations. Not just for me, mind you, but because you need to before the work finally buries you!”

Seteth did attempt to brush off your warning, though it was ineffective.

“I would love to spend time with you too, dearest, honestly. But I need to prioritize some of this before I even think of doing anything else. Would you be open to a compromise?”

“A compromise?” You echoed, “What do you have in mind?”

“If you’ll allow me one hour to finish my more pressing tasks, I swear to set aside the rest of my afternoon for you. Is that amenable?”

“...And it will be a single hour, nothing more?” You stepped closer, your hands on either side of him against the desk. 

You were awfully close- he felt slightly trapped.

“Yes…not a second more. Then I will be wholly yours to force into a nap, even if it is unnecessary.”

Your eyes narrowed, assessing his offer. “...Very well. I accept your terms.” 

He hummed in surprise when you kissed him then, sealing the deal with a teasing little peck.

At least he thought it was; then the floor fell out from under him.

The hum turned into a muffled squawk when you pinned his arms over his head.

In a single move you swiped his legs from the ground with one boot, and pressed your chest atop his, pinned fully against the desk.

When you broke the kiss, you were so close your noses touched.

You were both blushing, but where there was confusion, excitement and a hint of fear in his eyes- yours were much more dangerous and calculating.

“...But it would be unwise to keep me waiting.”

You released him as suddenly as you toppled him.

It was as if he blinked and you were across the room, already moving to open the door.

He was still leaned against the desk, though more out of fear his knees would give out if he did not. And the discomfort in his trousers was--

“I will see you in an hour, dear.” You smiled as if nothing happened.

He stumbled to his feet, just as the door opened wide and saw students walking past. 

He could only nod, and watch lamely as you disappeared from the room.  He was rooted to the spot, utterly stunned by your daring behavior. The excitement swirling in his head-- gods, had he actually enjoyed you pinning him like-

He shook his head violently, banishing the impure thoughts from his mind.

No, he would not allow himself to be distracted from his work. He had negotiated an hour, so he would fill that hour properly!

Numbly he sank back into his seat, and the quill returned to his trembling hand.

‘Work for the hour…use the full hour, otherwise Byleth will…’ 

The image of Byleth pinning him to the bed flashed in his mind.

He'd barely made it through a single sentence before he rocketed up from the desk.

He made a beeline for the door and strode after his minx of a wife. There would be a conversation about proper etiquette and intimiate behavior in his office late, but he had much more pressing matters to deal with.

Perhaps his work could wait an hour longer, after all.

…Perhaps until tomorrow.

“Claude-!” His name cracked on your tongue. Too quiet to reach him . Youcould not reach him in time without that blade being driven into his back.

You knew it, but you ran anyway.

Muscles that ached with exhaustion, adrenaline choked by fear when you realized how easy it would be for Claude to die.

Out of habit you commanded the spell, desperate to wind time back. Just a few seconds-- just enough to close the distance before he could be harmed.

But the seconds ticked forward anyway. Seiros couldn’t help you- couldn’t help him.

“Khalid!”

He was so close. The blade raised behind his back. The angle you were sprinting from would only give you one option. 

Claude did not hear his name. 

But he heard the squelch of metal piercing flesh.

He heard the groan of pain from your lips. 

It was like a twisted memory. The day you returned; when he heard your footsteps, and the shock at the sight of you turned into a warm smile.

No.

This time, the shock warped into terror.

A blade thrust through your stomach, wet with your blood. Your blood.

“BYLETH!” 

His limbs moved of their own accord. The arrow nocked to his bow was torn from its place, ran through the assassin’s skull while the prince’s other hand freed you from the bastard’s grasp.

You fell into him, your body heavy like a stone. The bow clattered to the ground, forgotten as Claude struggled to keep you from collapsing after it.

“Byleth-!!” His voice was choked with fear. Your eyes were wide, confused and panicked. The weapon remained in your body, jutted and glimmering. “Byleth, why- why, why did you-”

If there was any answer you could’ve given, the words had long left your mouth. Choked by blood and pain indescribable, it was all you could do to keep your eyes open. Though the blurry image of your husband panicking was worse. 

His words weren’t reaching your ears anymore. Your eyes narrowed, trying to focus on his disappearing face.

“Khal-” 

The blood in your throat spattered into the dirt.

“Don’t talk- breathe, just breathe, I’ll-” He was working desperately fumbling in his jacket, trying to find the flare spell to get help. “Dammit!! Byleth? H-hey, Byleth-! BY…!”

In the end, it wasn’t the spell that alerted the clerics. 

It was the wails of their commander that Lysithea heard. The cries of your name, over and over, begging you to not to leave him.

The healers descended onto Claude and his beloved wife. The prince collapsed into a heap of blood and she whom he sobbed over, limp in his arms.

A terror greater than any Claude had ever known washed over him, numb to the hands pulling him away so they might try to save his Byleth.

All he could do was watch, the slow realization that he may never hold you again creeping into his heart like a cold death.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ 

In the hours that followed, the monastery fell into an air of grim uncertainty. The Golden Deer initially gathered around their leader, waiting for word of the woman who walked beside him (and in many cases before him).

Claude was inconsolable. While the tears had long since dried up, he was near catatonic; unable to engage with those seeking to reassure him. He stared blankly at the doors across him, where the clerics worked frantically to stabilize his wife.

Only one thought circled in his mind while he waited. The question of “Why did you do that?” echoed over and over. Trying desperately to make sense of your choice; it was an assassin, so surely he didn’t hear the man coming. But if you’d called out to him- if he’d gotten a little closer, could Claude not have turned and avoided it in time?

When had he ever told you it was okay to take a blade for him? When had he asked you to sacrifice yourself for his well-being? It was supposed to be the other way around- but then again, if this is the pain of watching your loved one’s sacrifice…it wasn’t much better.

“Claude, a moment.” Marianne emerged from the doors, her voice muted. He was on his feet in an instant, all but crowding her into the opening as though he might force his way through; but they both knew better.

“How is she?” He was almost afraid to ask. Dark eyes were downcast, brow troubled by the inquiry. 

She took a breath before finding an answer. “...If I’m being honest, it’s not good. We were able to stop the bleeding, but the loss she suffered on the way here alone was-”

“-Is she going to make it?” He pressed, unwilling to hear the rest. She sighed. 

“We don’t know. She’s got a low grade fever, and her breathing is still shallow even after the restoration spells. If…if she doesn’t improve tonight, then…”

He swallowed hard, trying to ease the anguish in his heart. “May I see her?”

“Before you do, I need you to understand. Claude…there’s a high probability that…you may need to prepare yourself for-”

“May I see her?” He repeated, louder.

Marianne stared at him. There was an anger in his gaze- a desperation. They both knew what she was going to say. He was not ready to hear it. 

“...You may. But you cannot stay long; there is still more we must do before her body has to heal on its own. I can give you a few minutes of privacy, at least.”

Each step into the room was heavy, as though his feet turned to stone. The urgency to be at his wife’s side had suddenly grown reluctant. A great fear filled him, the dread of seeing you at death’s door nearly overwhelming his need to be beside you at all.

But he did not have to go far. The bed was mere meters from the doorway. All other clerics had moved on to other patience; a modicum of privacy was afforded to the royal couple.

Lysithea provided him a chair at your bedside, reminding him quietly that she would retrieve him in short order.

He vaguely recalled the doors shutting, and the silence that followed. It was lost in the sight of his dearest one, frail and unconscious before him.

You were wrapped in bandages that covered your entire torso; heavy gauze secured where the knife had cut through your flesh.

His fists clenched. The knife that was meant for him.

“By…” He sank to the bedside, taking the hand lying limp on the sheets. The memory flashed through his mind- shock and pain in your eyes, the silent scream- and all he could do was watch.

Claude’s head sank to the bed, squeezing your hand tightly. 

If that was the last time he saw you alive…the last time his eyes met yours…

“-I can’t do it.”

A sob heaved in his chest. 

“You can’t do this, I can’t-” Claude’s fingers intertwined, pressing your hand to his forehead. “I need you. I n-need you to pull through. You can’t just do that and leave, I-”

The tears fell, blinding the vision that had long since blurred. Despair overwhelmed his heart, nausea rolling through his entire body at the thought of this being the last time he might speak to you.

It simply could not be.

“Please, Byleth, please…don’t leave me behind, again. I won’t know what to do if I lose you. I-” The words caught in his throat, choked in despair.

“I need you. You gotta fight this, for- us, for our friends, our people, our…our life hasn’t even started yet-”

Trembling kisses touched each fingertip. Claude stared into your face, terrified to touch any other part of you, afraid you might disappear before his eyes. He had spent months away from you, dreaming of returning to your embrace once more.

Surely it would not slip away as soon as you reunited- surely the gods would not be so cruel.

“Please, my love.” 

His prayer whispered.   Would linger in the air as his allotted time came to its end. He was too buried in his own grief to see Marianne’s misty gaze; there was no telling how much of the  young king’s pleas were overheard. 

The numbness in his body overcame him, not realizing he had been taken from the room until Leonie and Raphael’s hands guided him to the corridor. 

There would be no rest, that night. Only pleading with whatever spirit might listen to give him a little more time with you.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ 

In the hours that followed, Claude oscillated between restless pacing through the halls of the monastery, to staring blankly at the ceiling without a single thought behind his eyes. 

He was so anxious, and so tired, he couldn’t function any better than that.

It would not be until dawn broke that word reached him. Lysithea had tracked him down, finding him staring listlessly out the windows of the library. An easier place to catch him than chasing him down the hallways, at least.

When she met his anxious eyes, there was a smile on her lips when she finally announced,

“She made it through the night.”

It was a good thing no one else was in the library at that hour; it would have been jarring to see the King of Almyra collapse into his dear friends’ arms, overwhelmed with relief. He recovered only long enough to follow her back to the room where you slept.

“Don’t do anything to disturb her rest- there’s still a long journey ahead. She won’t likely recover for weeks at best, but it may be a few days befre she opens her eyes. The amount of mana she used was immense even before she got that injury. So, please, don’t do anything to rouse her.”

“But I can stay with her now, at least?” 

As if anyone would be able to refuse those ridiculous puppy dog eyes. Lysithea managed to at least scoff at him (though it was difficult in the face of a man who was on the brink mere moments ago).

“So long as Marianne allows it…I don’t see why not."

The duo returned to the room in record time. Claude all but flew to your bedside once more, glued to his seat and his hand firmly locked in yours. You were warmer, now; and color had returned to your face, if only a little.

His heart soared with every slow breath that fille your lungs. You were alive- alive! And he would wait as long as he had to until you smiled at him again.

But for now, he decided, ignoring the blushes of your attending clerics to kiss your forehead, he could wait. His other hand rested in your hair, stroking sweetly, insisting on sweet dreams while Claude hoped for a swift reunion.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ 

‘My, how warm heaven is.’

It flittered through your mind like a butterfly navigating a dense fog. Your first thought upon regaining consciousness was both comforting and concerning.

Had you truly succeeded in your goal of protecting your husband? Or were you going to find his spirit here, too? Truthfully you were uncertain if you had died at all. 

That answer came quickly, when the haze of confusion gave way to a prickling, gnawing ache in your body.

A pain that was making itself more and more aware with each second you spent coming around.

Breaking back into the world of consciousness, your vision started to come together. A few heavy blinks at least brought the world into your field of view. It all remained blurred, but you were clearly not in heaven.

This was the monastery’s medical wing. A place you’d visited far too many times over the years. A groan burned your throat, reminding you that there were indeed many levels of pain attached to your coming around.

The sole distraction was a heavy warmth in your palm, twined around your fingers. The feel of someone’s hand atop yours.

It took far more effort than you wanted to admit, tilting your head over to see who was at your side.

Even though you had a feeling the answer was obvious, it still warmed your heart to see your husband there, snoozing at your side.

The first attempt to say his name resulted in a garbled noise stuck in your throat. But the second attempt managed to piece the word together.

“...Khal…”

Well, half of it.

The man who slept with his head slumped across his arm remained unmoved. You attempted to take your hand from his, but the tiny movement made his grip tighten.

You would’ve smiled if you had the strength; he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

You cleared your throat. Perhaps a third attempt was in order.

“Khalid…” You called again. It wasn’t a strong effort, but it did the trick.

Claude stirred, eyes slow to blink open. It seemed like he wasn’t familiar with his surroundings, blearily dragging his head up.

Then tired eyes met yours.

His hand froze in yours.

“...Byleth?”

Pools of joy gathered in his eyes, suddenly bright when he realized what he was looking at.

"Goddess, Byleth- you're finally awake!"

It wasn’t a dream.

You called his name. Your gaze was warm, lingering on him like a blessing sent from the goddess herself.

“I'm so glad you're-!” His voice was a trembling whisper, overwhelmed with emotion. “I was so afraid you wouldn't make it…!” 

Both his hands clung to yours, kisses pressed to it over and over. He was trying to decide whether to laugh or cry; it seemed to be a mixture of both.

“I’m here.” 

He nodded, pressing your palm to his cheek. He reached over, touching your face delicately as though you might break. 

“You’re right. Y-you are here.” He stroked your cheek, “I…I can’t believe you did that for me.” 

His gaze lowered. You felt the teardrop slip over your fingers. 

“You shouldn’t have done that for me.” 

“I tried…I tried to call out.” His brow furrowed, eyes downcast “I couldn’t get to you fast enough. But I couldn't…let you die.”

“But you almost did. Do you really think I’d be all right with that? That I could live with myself if you died trying to-” 

Claude cut himself off, shaking his head.

“...No, I’m sorry. I…I shouldn’t be yelling at you right after you woke up. I’m sure you feel awful. Scolding you certainly won’t help.”

“No…it’s okay.” Your fingers slipped from his face, resting tenderly against his heart. “I’m…so sorry I frightened you. You’ve every right to be upset.”

“Don’t you dare apologize- at least not while you’re all bandaged up and bedridden like this.” He attempted to jest, offering you a tight smile. “What matters is you're still here. We spent too long apart- I feel like the luckiest man in the world just to see your smile again.”

“Me, too.” It was your turn now to hold the hand rested so sweetly against your face, and tilted your head just enough to press a kiss to his palm. “I missed you terribly…while you were gone.”  

“Then it’s settled. Neither of us do anything that puts us at risk-- not ‘til this battling is over, and even after that. Forever.”

“But what if-”

“Neither of us are doing anything that puts us in danger ever again.”

He spoke much more fiercely…but his face was so handsome, it was difficult to take seriously. Instead you smiled, sighed softly, and nipped his palm.

“If you insist.” 

“Hey! No biting.” He blushed, poking your nose, “You’re in no state to be flirting with me like that. Otherwise you’ll get me banned for trying to jump the Archbishop mid-recovery.”

“I wouldn’t complain-”

“Byleth, you can’t even sit up.” He laughed, “But at least you’re feeling well enough to tease. I ought to be grateful.’

He carded his fingers through your hair, and pushed himself from his seat with a tired groan. “Let me go get some healers to look you over, and something for us to eat. I’ll only be gone a moment.”

“Thank you,” His blush deepened, his smile relieved and sweetened by your whisper.

He leaned over you, so he might kiss you tenderly before he left your side once more.

“I love you,” He murmured, “Thank you for saving me…and staying with me a little longer.”

You would have been grinning from ear to ear had your body felt slightly better. But you smiled all the same, squeezing his hand once more.

The problem didn’t reveal itself fully until he stepped away to investigate a hunting trap on the outskirts of camp. He wasn’t sure who had set it, but it didn’t appear to be a threat.

He was halfway back to your side when your knees suddenly buckled. Had he not sprinted back the rest of the way you would’ve gone face first into the snow.

“Corrin!!” Kaze cried out, arms snapped around you the instant he was close enough. He dropped into the snow with a grunt; you were practically dead weight. “Corrin- what’s wrong?!"

He turned you over in his arms, trying to figure out what just happened. Your expression was just slightly pained, but it was your breathing that had him most concerned. It was shallow and rapid; as though you were ill.

Very ill.

“Why didn’t you say something-?” He cursed to himself. Kaze broke into a sprint and rushed back to camp.

The sight of him racing home was cause for alarm, nearly causing a panic.

“What the hells happened?!” Jakob was naturally first to the scene. He was never far from his liege. But apparently he wasn’t close enough.

“I do not know. We were on patrol- I stepped away for a moment and she fainted when I returned!”

“You should not have left her side at all!” Jakob snapped, “I will alert the healers- we must hurry!”

Kaze dutifully followed the butler, heart thundering. Azama and Sakura already had the area prepped, directing him to lay you down on a nearby cot.

“She has a fever,” He explained worriedly, “Her face was flushed before, but I-I don’t know if it’s poison, or-”

“No, she is ill.” Jakob disagreed, “I have seen this many times. For it to strike so suddenly, it must be Nohrian flu."

“What?” His face fell with the grim diagnosis.

A disease like that took lives without hesitation. For you to collapse so suddenly- was it already too late?

“There is a Nohrian village nearby. We need to send someone there in disguise to avoid detection, but I'm certain they'll have the medicinal herbs we need to treat this effectively. I fear the Hoshidan remedies we have now won't be strong enough for this illness."

“That’s quite an assumption.” Azama quirked an eyebrow, “If you have so little faith in our skills, perhaps you shouldn’t have defected to the ‘inferior’ side.”

“That’s not it.” Jakob snapped, “Princess Sakura, please inform your siblings of what's happened. We will need them to assign the task for the village. Azama, if you have parchment lose by I can give a list of remedies to ease her symptoms in the meantime-"

“Do we have anything to at least revive her, first?" Kaze cut in, his hand anxiously wrapped around yours.

Jakob spared him a glance; it was clear your sudden faint rattled him.

“...Let me see what I can do.”

Azama directed Jakob to the medicine cabinets, chock full of herbs that the butler was less familiar with.

Kaze watched over you intently, hoping each second that passed you might open your eyes without the need of a cleric's assistance. That maybe it wasn’t as bad as he feared, and it was just a strange phenomenon that you would wake from without issue.

Unfortunately, it would be a long while before you finally came around. Three hours, to be precise. 

The last smear of herbal paste across your collarbone seemed to do the trick.

He caught the shifting behind your eyelids first, before your brows scrunched and a small grumble rose from your chest.

Kaze was practically leaning right over you, hand pressed to your cheek.

“Corrin…? Corrin, can you hear me?”

“...Ugh…” 

“That would be a yes,” Azama glanced over. “Keep an eye on her while I finish preparing these strange herbs, will you??”

“Of course,” Kaze nodded solemnly. He kept his attention on you, a soft frown on his lips. “Are you well? Does anything hurt?” 

“Mmn…” A soothing hand ran through your hair. “…Head…”

His fingers slipped away for less than a second. As though your brain hadn’t even the ability to comprehend when he left and came back.

The sudden warmth on your forehead was a welcome surprise; a soft, hot towel gingerly placed on your head.

Kaze’s touch returned, this time slipping his fingers between yours in a delicate hold. “This should soothe the pain a little.” 

His other hand brushed against your cheek. You leaned into his touch instinctively, earning the smallest smile from a frightened husband. Even in spite of your fever, his warmth was sought.

“Azama and Jakob are preparing medicine for the Nohrian Flu. Which, unfortunately, you’ve caught.” The added note brought a bemused grimace. Clearly you were familiar with the illness.

“At some point I will need to inform brothers and sisters-in-law that you are awake now. Sakura did inform them of what happened…but I fear without frequent updates, I will only draw Camilla’s fury."

You hummed in agreement, lazily nodding off to the side. Clearly you were more asleep than awake.

Kaze adjusted the cloth on your forehead, “But we need not worry about it now. Please rest. I will wake you when the medicine has been prepared.”

A glimmer of ruby red eyes shone up at him, if only for a moment before long eyelashes fluttered close once again.

“...Thank you, love…”

It was somewhere between a yawn and a mumble. But the three sweet words made the soft ninja’s heart skip a beat.

“You can thank me by recovering quickly, dearest.” He jested, but pressed a delicate kiss to your cheek all the same. “I shall pray for your swift recovery.”

The lengths your husband would go to prevent such a disaster from happening again were swift and serious.

From changing your entire diet to straightening out your sleep and exercise schedules, Kaze made it clear he wouldn't risk your health ever again.

Of course you would apologize profusely for worrying the poor man with such a sudden collapse.

Though he assured you it was fine, you did find his hand rested on your back far more often than before. Always polite, always gentle, but you wondered if he was secretly hoping to prevent another sudden fall.

It would not happen again under Kaze’s watchful eye. Though he would be forced to leave your side for a brief moment when Camilla charged at him. After all, how could she not be enraged he allowed you to get sick at all?!

He made himself scarce, but would never be more than a whisper away while you recovered (which meant he was perched outside your window waiting for you to ask for him). Both of you would always be far more careful in the future.

Kellam: One of the perks of being hard to spot was he could slip around people unnoticed with ease. So if the time should arise where he needed to keep an eye on you rather than, say, doing his daily duties, it wasn’t hard for him to do.

Such was the situation he found himself in that morning. Awakened at the crack of dawn, he found an empty  spot in bed. As a matter of fact, it was cold.

Either you had left for work hours ago, or you never made it home. A heavy yawn came first,and a troubled groan followed. It wasn’t the first time he’d woken at such a strange time without his wife, and surely wouldn’t be the last.

But that meant he had to go on a brief hunting trip.

Kellam was quite grateful he could slip through the town unnoticed in the early morning. The main road that led into the castle was an artery which clogged for hours as the work day began.

Having to fetch you from your office before another soul was even awake was at least one convenient change. 

Navigating the corridors of Ylisstol’s castle was simple enough. Having done it countless times it took only a few minutes to reach your office. The dim candlelight of a sputtering wick came through the door’s little window.

All the confirmation he needed that you were asleep inside. In spite of being familiar with the way such mornings went, he knocked politely on the door all the same.

A few seconds’ pause…but no answer. Definitely asleep.

The door opened softly with the spare key you’d wisely given your husband. It was not difficult to find his wife, who slept soundly at the desk covered in paperwork and splotches of ink.

His hand was on your shoulder, gently shaking you in his typical, loving manner of waking you. 

It took a few tries before you eventually came around. 

“Hmm…?”

“It’s morning, Robin… Time to get up.”

You groaned as you stretched awake, and tried to ask some sort of question around a heavy yawn. Kellam patted your back reassuringly, waiting for you to regain at least some of your consciousness.

“What…uhm…time is it?”

“The sun’s barely risen. If we hurry back now, we’ll still beat the morning rush.”

You nodded to yourself, back popped as you stood. “That’s…just enough time to get ready for work."

“Robin,” He knew you could hear the frown in his tone, but you were pointedly not turning to look at him. Instead you shuffled around the desk to fetch your coat. “I know how busy you are, but you’ve been working all night. It’s time for you to rest."

“There’s just too much to do. The rural reconstruction budgets…supply overage approvals for the Shepherd’s missions…the diplomatic strategy meetings, and the-”

“I get it. Truly, I do!” Kellam sighed, trailing behind you as the jacket came over your shoulders. “But if you don’t rest now, you’re going to regret it later. You’ve been non-stop since…well, forever!”

“That’s not true. I can stop.” You argued, gaze defiant when you finally looked at him.

That was your first mistake; he gasped at the bags beneath your eyes.

"Naga-! You are going to bed right now. This isn’t up for debate when you have eyes like a raccoon!”

There was an incredibly stubborn look on your face in spite of the state of things. With a dismissive tug of your coat, you headed for the door.

“I just need some strong tea and a cold shower. It’s just the low light in here making my face look a little off.”

“Robin-”

“Come on, you can scold me on the way home.”

“No, you’re-”

Whunk

“-Heading for the wall.” The sound was heavy enough to make the man flinch.

'You stumbled backwards, confused that the door was solid. You stumbled backwards, confused that the door was solid stone.

Then you fell to the floor.

“Robin-!!"

Kellam bolted to you, annoyance totally forgotten in lieu of near-panic. His arms came round you; whole body limp and heavy. The bright red mark on your forehead glowed against palid skin.

You were out cold. 

If the rest of the castle had not woken, Kellam’s panicked shouts did the trick. He was impossible to ignore, barreling through the castle with his wife unresponsive in his arms. 

Lissa was mercifully on duty that morning; she would be able to tend to you better than anyone else! At least, that’s what he told himself, while quickly explaining to the flustered princess that you had literally knocked yourself out.

Kellam did not realize he was crying until the princess handed him a kerchief.

“I’ve got her. Don’t worry.” She offered the poor man a comforting smile, before turning to his wife and getting right to work.

Ultimately it was all he could do to watch over you and wait for Lissa to tell him you were fine. He couldn't bear the idea of her saying otherwise.

He took hold of your hand beneath the cotton blanket, waiting anxiously for you to come around.

He was petrified he just bore witness to working yourself to death. This never happened before. To strike a wall and utterly collapse?

Just how hard were you working when he wasn’t able to stop you?

Hitting the wall wasn’t something you remembered until about an hour after you came to. There were more confusing questions on your mind, after all.

In particular, how did you get home?

The rustling of a sweet down duvet caught your attention first; there was no such thing in your office. But your own bedroom had quite plush bedding; which was one of Kellam’s many methods to get you to sleep in bed more often.

Weak beams of light pushed through the windows of your room. It was a familiar sight on weekends spent at home.

With a heave and a groan, you stretched yourself upright, sitting back against the pillows. This was certainly your room. It was just that the last you recalled, you were staring down at the incomplete analysis on your desk.

Your curious circumstances found their answer when the door creaked open.

Worried gray eyes found yours. He had a tray in his hands, quickly set aside when he realized you were looking at him.

“Oh- Robin, you’re awake!”

His footfalls were quiet in spite of his quick strides. Kellam made it to the bedside before you could even answer. A warm, calloused hand pressed softly to your forehead.

The crease in his brow didn’t ease when he pulled his hand back, but at least he managed a worried smile. 

“...How are you feeling?”

You mulled the question for a moment, weighing the answer between your confusion and the headache slowly reminding you of its gnawing presence. “Um. Well…okay.”

“Does anything hurt? Is your…” He trailed off, gaze stuck on your forehead. In your sleepy haze you reached up, following his eyes and finding a very, very tender bump in the dead center of it.

He frowned at your wince. “Definitely hurts.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that right when you woke up. Let me get that…” he rose, hurrying out of the room to retrieve a cool, damp cloth. Something to ease the pain in your skull, no doubt. 

“What happened?” You managed to ask upon his return. The cloth was placed in your hand, which you gratefully set against the angry bruise.

Kellam settled onto the edge beside you. “Well…I woke up and you weren’t home. Again.”

A few bricks of guilt plunked onto your shoulders. 

“So I went to the castle to get you, and you were asleep in your office.” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “But when I woke you up to get home, you were arguing with me and started walking away, and…well, you sort of…you ran into the wall and passed out.”

Your face blanched. “What.”

He nodded, “It’s true. You hit the wall and knocked yourself out-- I think you were so tired you didn’t realize where you were going until it was too late.”

The cloth fell when your hands came up, trying desperately to hide the hot blush on your face. You ran into a wall and knocked yourself out.

Kellam politely decided not to acknowledge the embarrassed noise muffled behind your fingers. “A-anyway. I carried you to the infirmary, and Lissa looked you over…she said you’d be fine with a lot of  sleep and headache medicine.”

“I see…you wouldn’t happen to have that medicine now, would you?”

“Oh- right- yes, one second.” He slipped away once more, this time with the tray back in hand. A handsome cup of tea and a menacing medicine ball came with him. “It’s bitter, so I made your favorite blend to help it go down. She said you’ll want to take two of these a day, morning and evening.”

“Mmn.” Reluctantly, dutifully the medicine was taken, followed by half the cup of tea fighting tooth and nail to wash away the sour, bitter remedy.

Kellam’s face fell some, having bore witness to the reason why you were taking that medication in the first place. 

“Robin…you need to stop working so much. I mean it.”

You finished your tea off with a soft sigh, all too familiar with this argument. “Kellam, you know I-”

“I’m not taking no for an answer this time. You ran into a stone wall, head first! You’re so exhausted you can’t function properly. Do you honestly think I’m going to be okay with that, especially now that this happened?”

“It was a mistake, I admit. I shouldn’t have pushed through another all nighter. But-”

“No buts!” He stopped you, holding his hand up, “You’re not doing any more overnight work. You live ten minutes from that office. You can stand to come home and rest when the day is over!”

“Kellam, my work isn’t…I can’t just stop doing it. I’m Chrom’s right hand, he needs me to finish as much as I can. He’s working just as hard, if not harder-- the least I can do is support him.”

“I’m not asking you to ‘stop doing’ your work. I’m just asking you to sleep so you don’t crash into something and hurt yourself again! What if it happens and I’m not there- if nobody’s there to help you?” 

“It won’t happen again.” You protested, “The time just got away from me-”

“Time just got away from you this time. What about next time?” He pressed you, arms crossed tight over his chest. He looked like an angry stone; meaning he wasn’t giving in. “How long before you hit another wall, and I’m not there to catch you? You could strike your head on the floor and die! And nobody would know until it was too late!”

“That won’t happen. I know I’ve been irresponsible, but even I know better than to push so far as to put myself in danger.”

“No, you don’t!” He argued, voice raised. He stood from the bed, an accusing finger pointed at you. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have come to get you! I wouldn’t have taken you to Lissa! I wouldn’t have thought you were-”

Your grip tightened on the cup. “Thought I was what, Kellam?”

“I wouldn’t have-” Hesitation, and dissipation of anger. “I wouldn’t have thought you were dead.”

A gasp left your lips.

“You...thought I died?”

“Y-you just dropped like a soldier on the battlefield! Headfirst into stone, and you crumpled. I thought you’d actually worked yourself to death when I took you to Lissa. She was so frightened when we first came in, a-and when I told her what happened she said you could’ve damaged your brain!”

“You said Lissa’s diagnosis wasn’t that serious.” 

He sighed heavily, hands on his hips. “She didn’t know what to think when I came in at first. It was still so early, a-and your face was so pale- she knows your lifestyle, and how hard you’re always working. She’s joked about you working yourself to death countless times! It very well could’ve happened this time!”

“Kellam,” 

“I know, it sounds stupid. It’s silly to think Chrom’s best soldier would die from something as trivial as that, but- when I caught you, Robin, I-”

“Kellam.” 

“I-I just started panicking. Your body was so heavy, it was like dead weight, and I-”

“Kellam…” He sank onto the bed again, all but falling into your open arms. He fell into you, head buried in your shoulder.

The tears that had blurred his vision and shaken his voice dripped pitifully on your skin.

Each droplet a dagger in your heart.

Featherlight fingers wove into his hair, the other wrapped tight around his broad back. It was hard to comfort a man nearly twice your size; but there were few places safer than each others’ arms.

Especially after scaring him so terribly.

“...I’m sorry, darling. I am.” You murmured into his hair, feeling uneven breaths hasten and slow in an attempt to compose himself.

“Ah...sorry. I shouldn't…you're supposed to rest.”

“Don’t apologize. This is my fault. I didn’t mean to scare you-- I should’ve come home last night. Especially because of how worried you were. I’ve treated you terribly.”

Kellam shook his head, pushing the tears away. “You treat yourself poorly, Robin…I need you to take better care of yourself. If not for your own health, then…at least, for me?” “Of course.” You drew him back into your embrace, kissing his temple. “I will. I promise. I won’t work into the morning anymore…I’ll come home every night. Though, sometimes, I might need a little help. A reminder or two, you know?”

Your sweet husband could only nod in agreement. His arms wrapped tight around you, gentle in spite of his size.

It was like hugging a big, handsome bear; to think you would consider ever leaving his side for a moment.

“If you can spare a little more patience for me, I promise I’ll work hard to change. I promise never to put you in such a position again…but it does make me so happy to know you’re the one looking out for me.”

“I’ll always look out for you.” Tender kisses fluttered over your eyes, a gentle hand brushing along your cheek. 

“Even when I’m being a brat?”

“Especially then.”

The two of you fell into bed together, a mess of laughter and lingering teardrops. You were able to rest a long while after that; Kellam stayed dutifully at your side, a willing nap partner (once he informed his commanding officers he wouldn’t be on duty today).

There would be slip ups here and there, the tides of war and peace making it difficult to always adhere to Kellam’s strict bedtime request. But he would always be there, lending a hand, making sure to return home safely with you no matter the time of night.

“Uhh…Byleth? You in here?” He wasn’t entirely convinced the paperwork hadn’t swallowed you up and transported you to another world. It was just that staggering. “Damn, the emperor really has put you to work, huh? Isn’t this maltreatment?”

“I’m here, Lin.” Your hand popped out from the far side of what he assumed was a desk beneath all the parchment. “And it’s really not as bad as it looks.”

“Not as bad as it-- I can’t even see you in the room!” He protested as he waded into the room, cringing when documents crunched beneath his boots. Hopefully those weren’t too important if they were scattered on the floor.

He made it to your still-waving hand, taking it gently in his and pressing a swift kiss to your fingers. 

“Are you trying to romance me when you can’t even see me?” Your question was raised with an amused smile, which he was finally able to see as he came to your side. You didn’t look too worse for wear, mercifully, but the bags under your eyes were still concerning.

“I try to romance you at all times. Especially when you can’t see me.” He countered smoothly enough, settling your hand on his hip so he might swipe his thumb just under your lovely eyes. “...You aren’t sleeping much, huh?”

You looked away, caught red-handed. “Not lately. But it’s for good reason, I assure you.”

“Even though we’re in peace times, hm?” His fingers shifted over, running through your hair. “I know how important your work is, especially to you. But if you don’t give your body and mind some time to rest, it’s only going to hamper your health and your work. Which I’m sure you hold both in equal esteem, but…you know which one I’d prefer you watch.”

“I do.” You turned in your seat, resting your head against his body and giving him a squeeze. “It’s just important to Edelgard…and to me. We’re doing so well with rebuilding the- well, the continent, honestly. And that’s only because everyone’s been working so hard on it. I want to do my part, too.”

“But your part is burning candles down to the wick and then some. The paper castle you’ve built for yourself won’t get any smaller overnight.”

“There’s only so much I can do about that, but some of these documents must be completed by tonight. There’s a lot of things that require priority.”

“Really? Is the messenger going to pick them up first thing in the morning?”

“Well, no, usually it’s closer to midday.”

“Then we shall finish our work for the night and resume first thing in the morning.” He decided, plucking the parchment directly in front of you and holding it away from your reaching hands.

“But that one’s almost finished!” Your protests fell on deaf ears. The greatest advantage Linhardt had over you was his height extending far beyond your wingspan. You were helpless when he held your belongings over his head.

Granted, you could give him one good punch to the gut to bring him back to your level, but thought it might be a bit harsh to do to your soft, delicate beloved.

“Even better-- we can finish it right away in the morning.” He glimpsed at the ordinance, brow suddenly furrowing. “Wait…this is the one you’ve been working on?”

“One of many.”

“Are you aware that half the words in the opening paragraph are spelled wrong or completely illegible?”

“I- what?”

He handed it back to you, pointing to the aforementioned writing. “I can’t read anything after ‘Greeting Lord Vestra’, can you?”

“It’s not that bad. It says ‘I am writing in regards to…the…planned rebuilding of…” You squinted harder with each word, grasping the paper with both hands in an attempt to steady the squiggles. “...Carrot Town...?”

“Carrot Town.”

“......Perhaps I am a little tired.”

Linhardt was able to take it away without a fight this time, while you rubbed at your eyes. He offered his other hand to help you from the desk, which you were grateful to accept.

“It’s better to work with a clear, rested mind than rushing through a night shift with a muddle one, my love.” He reminded you gently, with just the slightest pinch of “I told you so” in his tone.

He steadied you while the both of you crunched through the paper floor, making it back to the office door with little issue. You could only nod, trying to bite back a yawn when you were exposed to the night air that had been cool and dark for the last six hours. The last time you’d been able to look out the doorway, it had been bright outside.

“Gods…dare I ask what time it is?”

“Better you don’t.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, drawing you close for your lovely evening walk from the office to your bedroom across the courtyard. “But I don’t plan on letting you sneak off to work this late in the future. I don’t like falling asleep alone; or waking up and you aren’t there. So, if you can find it in your heart to grant your husband’s deepest wish, I would like to go to sleep and try to wake up together from now on.”

“...How late are you going to let me stay up?” Your eyes narrowed, not liking the sound of his plans. He could easily clear a 10 hour sleep if Linhardt was tired enough. Just the thought of all the time you’d lose was enough to make your body tense.

“I won’t send you to bed after dinner, if that’s what you’re asking.” He laughed, “But if you could trust me with taking care of your wellbeing when you won’t, it would mean the world to me. We have a whole lifetime of paperwork ahead of us; so let me make sure you stick around for it as long as possible.”

“Will a good night’s sleep really do that much for me?”

“If it’s beside me every night, I assure you it will.” His smile was so warm, your heart skipped a beat. You looped your arm around his waist, to give an affectionate pinch to his side. 

“All right, all right. We’ll try this method. But if it starts impeding my work too much, we’re going to have to revisit it.” He kissed the top of your head. 

“Fair enough. Now let’s get ready for bed.”

Despite your wariness of his plot, you passed out in his arms 10 seconds after you crawled under the covers. Him stroking your hair until you slept certainly didn’t help; those wicked fingers of his were effective at soothing your weary soul.

So effective that you remained asleep until noon the next day. Linhardt woke up before you when the handmaid informed him the messenger was waiting for the completed paperwork for the town of Carridan's reconstruction.

Hubert was not amused when he opened the envelope only to find a hastily scribbled “Sorry, I’ll get it to you later” across an unrelated letter…that was also crumpled and stamped with a boot-print for good measure.

“How much longer do you think it’ll take?” He looked up when a particularly sharp cry broke through the heavy oak doors. Frederick’s hand rested on his shoulder.

“Peace, Lord Chrom. Labor can sometimes last up to 24 hours. It may be that she was particularly fortunate when Princess Lucina’s labor ended so quickly. This is a normal part of the process.”

“But this is…gods, it sounds like agony. Are you sure I can’t go-”

“No, milord.” Frederick immediately shut down Chrom’s eighth attempt at asking for entry. “Need I remind you again the behavior that resulted in your permanent ban?”

“...No, I know.”

The Exalt had lasted all of an hour before he nearly took Maribelle’s head off for what he perceived to be the healer torturing his wife. When in reality she was performing a routine exam…but poor Chrom was so panicked about your health that it escalated extremely quickly.

That was the secondary (and perhaps more important) reason why Frederick was stationed at Chrom’s side. For much needed moral support, certainly, but to prevent Chrom from doing anything else foolish in the name of protecting his wife.

It was a noble endeavor, certainly, but it was equally boneheaded.

“Perhaps we ought to take a walk, milord. Something to clear your mind for a little while.”

Chrom shook his head, arms crossed tight against his chest. “I can’t. I need to be here. I can’t deliver the baby, I can’t be in the room-- there’s nothing I can do for Robin right now except be near her.” 

It was difficult to argue with that, and Frederick knew that saying “you might as well just go to your office down the hall and work” wouldn’t result in anything other than an annoyed glare.

So they waited. 

And waited.

Another two hours passed before any real progress was made-- and even then, he was still barred from entry. The queen had begun to push. The baby was on its way. Morgan was almost here.

Lissa was the one to tell him, coming out of the delivery room breathless and sweaty. She had a bucket in dire need of fresh water, which Chrom offered to take care of (quickly denied given his past actions).

“She’s fully dilated, so it won’t be long. Maybe thirty minutes of pushing at the most, but the light’s at the end of the tunnel!” Lissa said with a tired grin. 

“How is she? Have there been any complications?” Chrom asked first and foremost. 

“Mercifully she’s doing perfectly fine. No weird situations have cropped up in the last several hours, so I doubt anything will happen right at the end. We’re keeping a really close eye on her Chrom, don’t worry.”

Chrom sighed heavily, but nodded all the same. “I know...she couldn’t be in better hands. Thank you for helping deliver Morgan too.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t trust her with anybody else! Besides, if I’m helping then I get to hold my nephew before anybody else.” She giggled. 

Chrom resisted the urge to flick her forehead. “You’re helping because Robin trusts you-- but if that’s the real reason you’re doing it you know she’s going to kick you out, too!”

“Like she’d believe you over the healer who brought both her children into the world.” Lissa rolled her eyes, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to taking care of your wife.”

“Right…yes, of course. Go on.” Chrom waved her off, and would have to wait a while longer.

Lissa would come out of the room twice more, each time looking more excited and exhausted at the same time than her last exit.

At some point Frederick left Chrom’s side long enough to bring him some food.

He’d made it about halfway through a roll he couldn’t taste when all the noise inside the room suddenly stopped.

Frederick and Chrom both tensed, realizing what it meant.

“It’s…”

“I believe the worst of it…is over, milord.” Frederick took the plate before Chrom suddenly standing resulted in shattered glass.

Chrom stood in front of the door, shifting anxiously from foot to foot while he waited for good news. He could hear muffled cries, a sound he hadn’t heard since his daughter was born three years ago.

“Gods, I nearly forgot! Could you get Lucina? She’s going to want to meet Morgan first- let her know that her brother’s here!” 

“Right away, milord.” He smiled softly at the excitement in Chrom’s voice. Lucina would surely be thrilled to finally meet the little one she heard so much about, after all.

Shortly after Frederick left, the door opened. Once again Lissa appeared, a relieved smile on her face. 

“Is Robin-?”

“She’s fine, Chrom. Have a little faith.” Lissa joked. 

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” Chrom huffed, “Come on, how is she?”

“She’s absolutely fine- a lot more exhausted than last time, but I don’t blame her.” She said cryptically, her gaze shifting away from him. “You should know, there was a small situation.”

“What?”

Static filled his ears.

“...What?”

“It’s not like that.” She put her hands on his shoulders to steady him, “But…did Morgan ever mention anything to you about another sibling?”

Chrom’s brow furrowed. “No, never-- but he also had amnesia. He didn’t know me or Lucina, remember?”

“That’s right…” She clicked her tongue, “Well, you should know that Morgan’s not the only one in there with Robin, right now.” 

“What? Who’s…” He trailed off, having found your gaze past the princess in the doorway. You smiled at him, barely able to lift your head from the pillows, but waved a tired hand for him to enter. 

Lissa stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in at last. With a shaking breath he strode inside. He closed the distance in the blink of an eye. The first thing he did was lean down and kiss you.

“Robin…” He ignored the blushing faces of healers on the other side of the bed, devoid of any decorum now that the worst was over. “My love, how do you feel?”

“Like I gave birth.” Your voice was hoarse, but your humor was fully in tact. Chrom responded with something between a choked laugh and a sob. “I’m all right.” 

“I’m so relieved. You’ve done so well.” His praise was received with a gentle hand on his cheek, prompting him to kneel at the bedside rather than lean over his dearest one.

He held your wrist gently, and leaned into your touch with a grateful smile. 

“Is Morgan all right? Lissa said everything went well, but I thought you’d know better.” 

You made an odd face, and cast a glance to the bassinet waiting at the far end of the room. “Well, Morgan is, yes…did Lissa tell you?”

“She mentioned a situation, and asked if Morgan recalled having another sibling.” He recounted, and you nodded.

“Well…it turns out we had a pleasant surprise during delivery.” You mused as you nodded towards the bassinet. Chrom watched the clerics, their bodies blocking the baby currently being tended. Though why Morgan needed two healers, he wasn’t sure. Unless…

His eyes grew wide.

“No.”

You nodded, resisting the urge to laugh at the total shock on his face. His mouth was hanging open, unable to tear his eyes from the healers still at work, blocking the little one. The little ones.

“Robin-” His throat was tight, his grip tightening on your wrist. “H-he’s…they’re…he has a twin?”

You stroked his cheek tenderly, “A twin sister.”

Chrom nearly dissolved into tears then and there. A twin sister. A son and a daughter.

“Oh, gods. Oh my gods.” His hand came to his mouth, trying and failing to stop the waterworks. “I-I don’t believe it…another little princess…!” 

“I had a name planned for Morgan, but…I don’t think we ever discussed the possibility of…of if it was a girl.” You yawned, which pulled his attention back to you.

He took your hand from his face, kissing your knuckles once, twice before holding your hand to his heart. 

“N-no, my love, I don’t believe we did. What are we going to do?”

“I suppose we’ll have to come up with one on the spot.” 

“I’ve never been particularly good at thinking on my feet.” He admitted, “What are we supposed to name our second daughter?”

“Perhaps you ought to meet her first; then you can come up with something.” Lissa chimed, returning to close the doors behind her. “The instant I held my baby boy in my arms, oh, it was obvious what his name was! Future me must've known it, too.” 

“It does,” You agreed, giggling softly. “Chrom…would you be a dear and help me up a bit?” 

“Of course,” He motioned for Lissa’s help. The two of you very carefully eased you into a semi-sitting position, leaned back against the pillows now propped securely behind you.

Chrom sat dutifully on the bed beside you, putting a supportive arm around your shoulders once you were settled in place.

“Milady, milord…are you ready to see the children, now?” One of the clerics asked. When you both looked up, you found warm smiles on both their faces, and arms full with two very handsome bundles.

You shared an anxious, excited look. Chrom held out his other arm. “Yes, we would love to.”

The clerics gingerly passed the babies to you both. If Chrom had successfully held the tears back before, he couldn’t stop them now.

A baby girl was nestled into his arms. She had soft blue hair and a tiny copy of her mother’s nose. 

“Ah…wow…” He sniffed, squeezing her close. The king had a difficult time trying to look at his daughter and his son, who his wife was happily fawning over.

“Look at you…a little prince, just like the paintings of his papa.” You hummed, “It’s so nice to meet you, Morgan.”

“Morgan…” Chrom echoed, and carefully leaned over to steal a peek at his son. His hair and nose matched his sister's exactly. He breathed a laugh. “They’re definitely identical twins.”

“Are they?” You marveled at your youngest daughter. Proudly you beamed at her, and offered a finger for her to take. “It’s so nice to meet you, too, little one.” 

The baby girl grumbled, squeezing the strange, warm object in her hand. Chrom delicately stroked her hair, cradling her head with the reverance of a proud father who never could have imagined he’d have this beautiful moment again.

You rested your head on his shoulder with a happy sigh. He looked down at you, smiling to himself. 

“I fear I do not have enough arms. I cannot hold all of you at once!” 

“And it will be worse once Lucina comes.”

“Of course…! I sent Frederick to bring her to meet Morgan. She will be thrilled when she finds out that she has a little sister, too!”

“She will need a name if she is to be properly introduced, my love.” You reminded him.

You wiggled your finger, and she sneezed. Both of her parents laughed, delighted.

“My goodness! She is much more lively than Morgan…I worry that means she’ll be more wild.”

“Morgan is simply polite…and fast asleep.” You observed, giving the baby boy a soft squeeze. Chrom's heart swelled with pride. “Perhaps they shall be wild together.”

“Then they should have names that go together, too.” He decided. Her eyes flitted open, not quite able to see what was in front of her.

“Hmm…Melina?”

“Not quite,” You squinted at her, considering it. “Perhaps Morwena?”

“Morgan and Morwena? I think they’re a little too similar.” 

“Morgana?”

“Don’t tease me.” 

“Apologies,” You giggled, nudging him playfully. “Try another one.”

“Mariana?”

“No, perhaps…Mikaela?”

“Marcelina?”

A thoughtful hum.

“How about Marc?”

“Marc?” His eyebrows rose, “That’s…an ambiguous name for a princess, don’t you think?”

“I think it’s perfect.” You sighed, holding Morgan up so that he snoozed right beside his twin sister. “Look at them…Morgan and Marc.”

“Huh.” Chrom smiled to himself, looking at his beautiful newborns. “When you say it like that, it suits her.” 

“Prince Morgan and Princess Marc…second and third-born of the House of Ylisse. A magnificent pair, indeed.” 

“We do an excellent job when it comes to children, don’t we?” Chrom’s arm came around you once more, drawing you in as close as he possibly could.

You received the kiss on your forehead with a happy hum. “I couldn’t agree more…though it occurs to me that two children does mean double the workload, and feeding, and changing…”

“Nothing we haven’t done before. And I won’t let you face it alone. Nor will our many available staff, my sister, Frederick…”

“Good point. Shall I leave the first shift to you then, dear?” You asked behind a yawn. Chrom kissed you again, skillfully taking the baby into his arms so he had both his bundles of joy safe and secure.

“I would be glad to. Get some rest. You certainly deserve it.” He murmured. 

To your credit, sleep just started to creep in. But Lucina’s excited laughter woke you right back up when she burst into the room and made a beeline for her parents.

Poor Frederick apologized between gasps for breath- she could be a blue blur when the moment called for it.

The three-year-old waddle-sprinted over to her parents, trying unsuccessfully to climb onto the bed while your husband attempted to quiet her down to protect the peace.

You delayed your sleep for a little while longer. Just so you could watch Chrom introduce the children to their most precious elder sister.

You fought it long enough to see Lucina hold them with Chrom’s help, grinning at you and making sure you were watching her, too.