Author's Note: Originally written: May, 2016.

Fun Fact if You Even Care: This was the first Fire Emblem story I bothered to write.

In the dreary hours of the night, when crickets chirped, the entire camp had fallen silent, yielding not a single sound besides the rustling of blankets and sleeping bags. Corrin, along side his wife, rest in his quarters, gathering energy for the next day. Velouria lay in her tent amongst her pile of 'treasures', her hand holding a giant leaf she once fondled with before dozing off. Effie, stripped of her armor, rested with a train of long snores, a lance handy in her limp hand. Having finished his secret dancing practice, Laslow embraced Selena, who was silent for once, not storming on about who was better than who. Nina too stayed in her tent, her braids sprawled out around her head; she dreamed dreams dreamy enough to have a stream of drool spill out of her smirking mouth. Shigure was the only who lay in a compact formation, his face calm, his eyes fluttered shut and his hands laced over his belly; he had completed a song before lulling to sleep.

Through the silence which was this typical night, anything could be heard.

Anything.

"Et... In corde... Meo... Ut prohibeatis... Eam... Verberans... Et... In... Corde meo..."

His eyes tiredly fluttered open, a groggy sigh escaping his lips. In the dark, his exhausted eyes spied on a sea green glow just above his barren chest; there, he felt a pair of hands stretched out on top of him, gentle, yet firm. Puzzled, perhaps convincing himself he was dreaming, his green eyes watched as it continued, his gaze lazy.

But the more the chant continued, the more awake he became.

"Desinunt... Ut cordis... Ut meum..."

At last, like a slap to the face, his eyes widened; he brought himself up, allowing the pair of hands to slide off of him. As his brows furrowed, his fingers traveled over to the blade which lay at the side of his pallet with urgency. His heart quickened its beat, sweat beginning to spill from his forehead; adrenaline began to pump in several doses.

"Who goes there?" he hissed, tense. "Please tell me that's you, Nyx."

He felt a hand set itself on his cheek as the green light died down, a thumb running over his jaw; it was a small hand, the small hand he recognized. Relief slowly began to wash over him the longer it lingered.

"No need to worry, Silas." a voice sounded. "I'm sorry to have startled you... More so for awakening you."

"N-No, no..." he ran a hand through his messy hair. "Don't worry... I just... What were you doing? You sounded like... You were chanting some sort of spell..."

"That's because I was." her soft voice replied lowly. "An anatomy spell to be more precise."

Silas' eyes widened, a flush spreading across his face, a burn erupting in his chest suddenly, only to disappear shortly after. He closed his eyes in hopes of adjusting to the dark, hoping to see at least a tiny bit of her face upon reopening; the endeavor was somewhat successful. He could make out the outline of her pale skin and the long, dark curtain of hair behind it. Her face, barren of ornaments like transparent veil over her jaw or a sorcerer's crown, looked just as young as always; her eyes, though, held no innocence as a child's. They were hardened like an adult's, an adult that has seen more than the average adult.

He couldn't help but blink strangely.

"...An anatomy spell?" he echoed. "For what?"

Before his answer came, there first came her body; it slowly leaned towards him, her chest pressing against his; blind from the dark, he was momentarily surprised to feel a pair of lips brush lightly against his. Though startled, he sighed, welcoming her inside with an embrace as he returned the gesture. They were quiet for a while, setting the night to how it belonged; when they parted, though, the ruckus of their conversation continued.

"I was syncing our hearts." Nyx explained calmly, pressing against him further. He leaned back, laying themselves down once more, running a hand through her hair. He was quiet for a moment, feeling her atop him, regulating his breaths; this was no difficult task, seeing that Nyx, with her petite form, was nowhere near heavy. If anything, it was his arms resting across her that added the most weight on top of him.

"Syncing, hmm?" he replied, starting to chuckle. "Does that mean we're going to have the same heart beat or something?"

"No." she replied. "Not that sort of syncing."

Immediately, his eyes widened, pupils shrinking. His body, strong from combat, tensed as he adjusted his gaze, looking into her face. Into those mature, yet burdened, eyes.

"Then you mean..." he fell silent, startled. "A... Lifeline... Spell..."

After nodding, she gave way to a slight moan.

"Indeed." a hand traveled to the left of his chest, spreading her fingers, the center of her palm pressing down. Then after, she set her head down, an ear listening to the constant beat which lay underneath. "I haven't finished it yet... But when- or if- I do, my life will depend on yours..." she raised her head again, gazing at him grimly. "When this heart stops," she motioned to her chest. "This one stops as well."

Speaking of hearts... His began to pound furiously.

"Nyx..." he started, baffled. "This... This is something we need to talk about before anything is put into motion. You're my wife now, aren't you? Part of being married is discussing important matters together... And this, if you ask me, is a very important matter." then, with his arms, he worked to pull her closer, feeling her face rest in the crook of his neck. "We're in this together. My problems, your problems..." he sighed, his eyes dulling. "Would you care to tell me why you're doing this?"

He heard a sharp exhale depart from her nostrils, almost a laugh. Perhaps it was a scoff?

"Amazing." she sighed, rolling off of him; at his side, she lay on her hip, observing him. "Someone so much younger than I... Reminding me how things work. A child of all things."

Silas laughed.

"A child?" he echoed. "That's no thing to call your husband. Have you forgotten how old I am?"

Nyx smiled slightly.

"Alright, you're no child... But you're awful close."

"Funny that this comes from the one who said I had the mind of someone much older. You weren't lying to me back then, were you?"

She smiled again, her eyes softening; gentle, she set her chin atop his chest, placing a hand next to it.

"I'm sorry." she whispered. "You're very right... I should have consulted you before I did anything, Silas. I've been having bad dreams lately, you see... You were brought down on the battlefield, pushed off the back of your horse by a lance driven through your stomach, dead before I could say good bye." she sighed. "The thought of losing you pains me."

"And... That made you want to... Die along with me?"

"Correct."

Silas' brows raised, his eyes wandering elsewhere.

"That... I don't know about that..." he whispered, pulling her close once again. "If I am to be killed someday in a battle, I want it to be for the sake of those I love, especially you. I would want you to live on and continue a happy, happy life."

Silence settled between the two of them, their lips shut, but their bodies close. The crickets outside the tent chirped. What little moonlight peeked behind the clouds eased inside. They breathed steadily, steadily enough to listen to one another's beating hearts.

"We haven't been able to talk much lately with all that's been going on." she muttered, suddenly grim. "Such doesn't surprise me, seeing that we're standing in the midst of a war... We've been busy lately, too busy to talk. In private at least."

"I hate admitting that's the truth." he replied, the spark in his voice extinguished. "I promised I would be there to lend an ear, but I have not lived exemplarily up to that standard... I'm sorry. Please, let's take the time to talk about whatever's on your mind... Explain why you suddenly decided to... Make this decision..."

And so, the night would continue on, only with personality; the pair, husband and wife, chatted long into the darkness, their voices thick, tension rising in the air. But, of course, it wasn't nearly loud enough to stir the sleeping prince in his quarters, nor cause Velouria to accidentally crush her precious leaf in awakening, nor demand Effie rise battle-ready with her lance firmly in her grip, nor cause Selena to flick Laslow in the face while accusing him of waking her, nor make Nina groan from being yanked from what she would call 'the best dream she's had all week', nor pull open the eyes of the peaceful Shigure with his fingers laced over his belly...

In short, perhaps, the night had not changed at all.

Author's Note: Yes, the spell Nyx was speaking is in Latin. I am not fluent in Latin whatsoever, so if you happen to notice any grammatical errors, I would appreciate any corrections.