"No, no," Lissa insists. "I love tea! I can handle it!"

Lon'qu considers the sweet, citrus flavoured teas that Lissa and Maribelle have invited him to try, and the cheek-puckering sourness of the Feroxi tea he's come to favour. Then he considers his total inability to refuse the princess anything and wordlessly hands over his cup.

Lissa's face appears to fold in on itself as she takes a sip and she makes a noise like squished frog. "I can handle it," she says again, before descending into a coughing fit.

Lon'qu gently takes the cup away. "It's an acquired taste."

"How do you acquire it?" Lissa asks. "Through torture?"

"Close. Training with Khan Basilio."

Lon'qu's heart flutters as she laughs, rocking back on her feet and grinning from ear to ear. "You made a joke! I knew I was a good influence on you!"

"Hm," is all he can manage to say. Her bright eyes are very close, enough to make out each individual eyelash. His face flushes.

"Aha, sorry," Lissa says, misinterpreting and taking a few steps back. "I guess Maribelle's… training?" She pauses. "Treatment? Well, anyway, it's working! You didn't scream or anything."

Lon'qu doesn't know how to explain to her, or to Maribelle, that it wasn't working quite as well as they thought. It was just that, in the process in getting to know the two of them, he'd come to realise it was more frightening to be away from them than it was to be close. He doesn't know what he'll do when he has to return to Regna Ferox. The war with Plegia is over, and so is the threat to Lissa's life. Basilio must be aware that Lon'qu's reasons to put off returning are merely excuses.

He also didn't think it was necessarily wise to explain to the princess of a foreign nation that he had feelings for her and her best friend, neither of whom he could so much as pat on the shoulder.

Lon'qu only realises he's totally lost track of the conversation when Lissa's face comes into his field of vision. He blinks.

"Are you okay?" she says. "You've been staring off into space a lot lately."

Of course she would notice. Lon'qu ought to know by now that she cares too much about her friends to let something like that slip her by.

"If something's bothering you, you know you can talk to me, right?" Lissa says. "Or Maribelle! Maribelle knows everything, nearly, I bet she could help."

Lon'qu shies away from the earnest affection in her expression. It's too close to the thing he really wants to see. "It's… not something that can be helped."

"Oh." She hides her hands behind her back so he won't see her anxiously twisting her fingers – even though he knows her habits well enough to know exactly what she's doing. "Well… you can still talk about it if you want!" She smiles. "After all, we're best buds now! You can tell me anything."

"I know."

Perhaps it would be better to go back to Regna Ferox and try to forget about them. If only Lon'qu believed that would work.

"…And during the dinner, each course is placed before the Exalt first, and everyone else must wait until they begin eating. Additionally, one must wait until all their neighbours have been served before they can begin eating…"

"Is this all really necessary?" Lon'qu asks, tired of trying to concentrate on Maribelle's lecture and not stepping on her toes—

Maribelle tuts suddenly. "You missed a step!" Lon'qu mutters a curse, only to wince as she thwacks the back of his head. "There's no need to resort to uncouth language. Let's take a break."

"I don't see why I have to dance," he grumbles.

"And I don't see why you insist on being so bad at it," Maribelle replies. "For a swordsman as skilled as you, this footwork should be easy."

It's not the footwork that's the problem, it's being so close to Maribelle – the softness of her hands in his, the flowery scent of her hair, the dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose.

But of course, he cannot say this. He folds his arms. "There are no formal dances in Regna Ferox, nor such involved dining etiquette. I don't see the benefit in pretending to be something I'm not."

"If the Khans wish to alter this trade agreement with Ylisse, it is incumbent upon you to make a good impression as the only Feroxi at the banquet!" She throws up her hands. "For goodness sake, we don't want all the influential duchesses and earls to think Regna Ferox is a nation of barbarians."

"But—"

"Especially if it's true!" Maribelle points a finger at him accusingly. "You are Khan Basilio's representative in Ylisse. You have a duty to your nation."

Lon'qu knows she has a point. Regna Ferox can offer little to Ylisse in the way of trade, so it's even more important they get the best possible deal on what they can trade – Prince Chrom himself suggested the alteration to the existing trade agreement, as thanks for Feroxi aid in the war. But that means winning over the traditionalists in the Ylissean nobility, who are suspicious of their warlike neighbours.

"Besides," Maribelle says with a small smile in the corners of her mouth, "I know that Lissa has been looking forward to asking you for the first dance."

"Lissa dances?"

"Of course she does! I taught her myself." Maribelle nods, saying, "And I will have the second dance, obviously," although Lon'qu hasn't agreed to anything.

Who is he kidding? Of course he wants to dance with Lissa and Maribelle, particularly if it will make them happy.

He sighs and holds out his hands to her. "Let's go again."

She smiles at his resolve. A warm feeling fills Lon'qu's chest for making her proud, and he stands a little straighter.

They twirl around the room together for a few more hours until Maribelle, breathless but delighted, pronounces him 'competent'. Her face is flushed, strands of hair stick to her forehead with sweat, and she's still so beautiful that it hurts to let go.

"Well done, Lon'qu!" Maribelle claps her hands together. "With a few more practice sessions, I daresay no one will know you had not danced at all before."

"Thank you for your help," he says. After all, she has no connection to Regna Ferox, yet she offered her aid anyway.

"I cannot claim completely unselfish motives." Her eyes sparkle with laughter. "Think of how many heads I will turn by dancing with the most handsome man in the room!"

Lon'qu blushes and stutters out excuses to leave. He knows Maribelle isn't offended by her cheerful goodbye, and he can't deny that his heart raced at hearing her call him 'handsome'… but it feels dishonest to accept such compliments when he knows he would be just as pleased to hear it from another.

He knew she should choose which woman to pursue, but how could he pick only one? How could he, when Lissa's cheerful and carefree nature is the perfect complement to Maribelle's blunt tongue, when Maribelle's cool-headedness and wealth of knowledge balances Lissa's impulsive nature and forgetfulness.

If he could only choose both—

Lon'qu shakes the thought away. Best not to dwell on things that can't happen. He has the gift of Lissa's and Maribelle's friendship, and that's enough.

Lon'qu nurses worries of struggling to stay close to Maribelle or Lissa through an entire dance, thinking that the number of strangers would make him more anxious than sharing a private lesson with Maribelle.

Actually, he finds their closeness a comfort in the crowded ballroom, not to mention the uncomfortable formal clothes. Maribelle, of course, looks right at home in a silken pink dress, almost too beautiful to be touched; and if Lissa doesn't reach Maribelle's elegance, she makes up for it with a beaming smile and her own personal charm.

Lissa seems to develop a sixth sense for when Lon'qu is being asked to dance by another lady, swooping in with a cheeky grin and saying, "Sorry, Lon'qu is already engaged for the next set."

He ends up dancing with her six times. If it wasn't Lissa, it would be exasperating.

Maribelle demands her share of dances, too, which she claims are her payment for the lessons. "Didn't I say you'd be the handsomest man in the room?"

Lon'qu has no idea how she finds the breath to talk and dance at the same time, and only grunts.

She seems to understand, and laughs as they twirl in time with the music.

Afterwards, Maribelle drifts away to find Lissa. Lon'qu wanders the room, trying to avoid making eye contact with any other women.

"That's the Feroxi man, isn't it?"

"The princess has shown a marked preference for him…"

He frowns as he walks past, turning his walk into a more purposeful search for Maribelle. He finds her at a small table at the edges of the room, sipping water with Lissa.

Lon'qu hesitates, but Lissa spots him over Maribelle's shoulder and waves at him. He can't ignore her when she calls him over.

"Lon'qu," Maribelle says placidly. "We were just talking about you."

Lissa chokes on her water suddenly, red faced.

"...Right," he says. He shifts, not wanting to raise what he overheard in Lissa's presence, but not sure how to ask to talk to Maribelle alone without having to give awkward explanations.

Before he can think of anything to say, Maribelle stands, smiling to herself. "Let's get some fresh air."

Lon'qu doesn't move for a moment, unsure if he's invited.

She gives him an amused look. "Yes, that includes you."

He trails behind them, feeling out of place in the beautifully tamed gardens, watching Maribelle and Lissa link arms and whisper to each other.

What am I doing here?

Then Lissa runs ahead, shouting about 'I'm going to get you for that!', and Lon'qu can't help but smile; Maribelle drops back to walk alongside him, shaking her head fondly. The garden is dark, but intermittently lit by lanterns. He admires the way Maribelle's eyes catch the light, making them seem the colour of dark honey.

This is why, he thinks.

He remembers the overheard conversation and turns serious. "Someone was talking about Lissa—"

"Ah, the dancing?" Maribelle seems unconcerned. "I knew it would raise expectations amongst the gossips. Don't let it trouble you, darling."

"But… if they…"

"If anyone says anything hurtful to my Lissa," she promises, her smile turning sharp, "I will deal with them myself."

She unexpectedly pats Lon'qu cheek, and his mind goes blank until he steps away. His cheek still feels cool, like a ghostly impression of her fingers. The air feels close and stifling, like the summers of Chon'sin, despite the evening breeze.

Maribelle looks lost for a moment, hand still reaching towards him. Then she masters herself and withdraws her hand. "I'm terribly sorry," she says softly. "I quite forgot myself. Are you alright?"

Lon'qu can't stand the mournful expression on her face. "It's nothing. No need for apologies."

But he still feels heat that isn't there, an itchiness on his skin, and he can't close the gap between them again.

Maribelle must see through the lie, carefully keeping a distance of six paces between them. "You held up very well," she says, a reassurance Lon'qu wasn't aware he was looking for until some of the tension eases out of his shoulders. "Let us spend the rest of the evening resting in the gar—ahhh!"

Her screech echoes through the air as they walk onto a small clearing with a water fountain and Lissa leaps out of the bushes and wraps her arms around Maribelle's waist. Lissa isn't quite tall enough to rest her head on Maribelle's shoulder, so she looks out from under an arm and snickers. "Got you!"

"Oh, you—" But Maribelle can't even pretend to be cross before she starts laughing.

Lon'qu's heart thumps loudly in his chest, at first because he was startled, but then because, as Maribelle makes no move to escape Lissa's embrace, it occurs to him how right it feels to see them together, how comfortable they are with one another—

"Lissa, let's find a seat," Maribelle says at last. "Lon'qu has had his fill of the ball."

"Aw, I was hoping for more dancing," Lissa replies, but she obediently skips away and stands in front of a nearby bench, waving her arms wildly – as though Lon'qu might not have otherwise noticed her from five feet away.

"Well, there's no reason why you shouldn't have that, if you will have me as a partner." Maribelle holds out her hands in the post she taught Lon'qu, and Lissa grins before they begin.

Lon'qu watches them twirl around the garden, both as bright as the full moon in the sky. It seems like they're lost in their own world at times, but one of them will always turn their heads towards him and smile just when he thinks they've totally forgotten about him. They make no move to return to the music and laughter inside.

He appreciates their thoughtfulness, even as he feels a flush creep up his neck when they stop dancing and simply stand close to one another, eyes locked together.

"Are you alright, my dear?" he hears Maribelle say in a low voice. "You seem a little dizzy. Too much spinning?"

"I don't think it's the spinning," Lissa answers breathlessly.

They stay like that for some time. Lon'qu probably ought to clear his throat, to remind them that they aren't alone, but he can't quite bring himself to break the spell. Selfishly, he wants to see them together, if only for one moment.

Then Lissa blinks, and she and Maribelle take a step apart. Lon'qu remembers to breathe.

"Well?" Maribelle says. He realises that she is addressing him, and hopes she can't see his flushed face in the dim light. "Do we dance well, Lon'qu?"

Lon'qu's blush starts to burn his face and he can't hope that she hasn't noticed now. Lissa pretends to be very interested in a piece of topiary, but she's obviously listening carefully.

These women will be the death of me.

He clears his throat, unsure what response Maribelle wants. "...You're the expert," he manages at last.

Maribelle sighs, but doesn't seem upset. She joins him on the bench, remembering to leave some space between them. "I think we all danced well this evening," she says, for some reason looking quite smug.

Lissa balances on the edge of the fountain and grins. "Did you enjoy yourself, Lon'qu?"

"Yes." He was surprised by it himself, but then again… "I had the best company," he says without thinking.

"Of course you did," Maribelle says.

"And so did we!" Lissa pipes up.

Lon'qu smiles. Maybe he is to be a third wheel, a friend only, but he can hardly begrudge them – and in that moment, it doesn't seem like such a bad fate.

The dance turns out to be the last moment of peace, because within the next few days they hear of an invasion force from Valm, and another war to fight across the sea. Emperor Walhart already conquered the whole of one continent, and now he comes for the other. They head to Port Ferox, right in the heart of the country, and the most fortified port on the western coast. If Emperor Walhart's forces take it, they would have an easy time of expanding their influence outward. It can't be allowed to happen.

After only three days of waiting, Emperor Walhart's ships pull into harbour, and it devolves to a fight in the docklands.

Khan Basilio tells Lon'qu to stay with the Prince Chrom's group. "I'll feel better knowing your sword is between those headstrong fools and their sudden end," he mutters, presumably meaning Prince Chrom and Robin.

It could equally apply to Maribelle and Lissa, too.

"Get down!" Lon'qu hisses, grabbing a handful of Lissa's skirt and yanking her backwards.

She nearly falls on top of him, and a second later, an arrow shoots through the space her head occupied. Too close, Lon'qu thinks, suddenly terrified for her now that he has a moment to breathe. What if what if—?

"I can't find Chrom or Maribelle!" Lissa says, although she doesn't try to poke her head out again. "Lon'qu, what if—"

He knows how she must feel, but he cuts her off. "They'll be fine. You have to think of yourself now."

Because if he starts thinking about all the terrible things that could happen to Maribelle and Lissa, to Khan Basilio, to any of the Shepherds, the people he's come to think of as comrades and friends—he'll be paralysed and useless to all of them.

Lissa still looks pale and there are tears in her eyes. Lon'qu hesitates, then reaches out to squeeze her arm. He hopes she won't notice how his hand trembles as he does it.

She scrubs at her eyes and smiles, putting on a brave face again. "You're right! I gotta look out for everyone here!"

And when she decides something, she throws herself into it wholeheartedly. As Maribelle is escorted back behind their lines, stumbling with fatigue, Lissa catches her eye and nods before returning to the wounded, and it's Lon'qu whose relief makes his knees weak.

"You're unhurt?" he asks Maribelle.

She smiles. "Just tired." Her eyes slide over to Lissa. "You kept her safe."

He might not have had he not noticed that archer nocking an arrow—but Lon'qu forces himself to put those thoughts away. "Yes."

"Good. We would be lost without her."

Lon'qu twitches at the use of 'we'. Maribelle must mean 'us, the Shepherds' or perhaps 'Ylisse', but…

What if she doesn't?

A dangerous hope. But now that it's taken root, he can't stop it from growing.

Lon'qu still feels he performs at his best when taking orders and stabbing people, so he tends not to trouble the strategy meetings that Robin organises, even though he technically has a right to attend when the Khans are absent. He paid little attention to the leader of the Resistance, even though he was vaguely aware that she was from the royal line of his homeland, Chon'sin.

So he's completely blindsided when Princess Say'ri approaches him.

"I am surprised to see one of my countrymen already amongst the Ylisseans!" She smiles, something gentle and welcoming, and Lon'qu freezes. "Hail, man, does your sword keep sharp?"

An awkward silence follows as he struggles to remember the correct answer to the traditional warrior's greeting. He knows he has heard it before, but he suddenly cannot recall the sound of Ke'ri's voice, and if she didn't teach it to him, it must've been something he overheard once—

Say'ri's smile fades. She seems confused rather than insulted, but Lon'qu still feels like he failed some kind of test. "You… are of Chon'sin?"

"A long time ago, I was," Lon'qu says.

He's startled to realise that it's true. Ke'ri, the memory of her, has loomed so large over his life that he had never really thought how little of that Lon'qu there us left. Regna Ferox has made him everything he is – when Basilio, not a Khan then, saw potential in a young stowaway and took him under his wing. When he thinks of 'home', he does not think of Chon'sin; he thinks of the cold mountains and the fierce people of Regna Ferox. Coming to Valm, to Chon'sin, has felt familiar, yes, but in the way of a distant dream, not of a place that lives and breathes in his memories.

Lissa and Maribelle hover nearby. He can sense their concern, but actually – actually he feels quite free and weightless.

"I see," Say'ri replies quietly. She bows her head. "My apologies for making assumptions. I hope we will work well together."

Lissa barely manages to wait until the Chon'sin princess is out of earshot before she all but barrels into Lon'qu. "What was that? What did she say? Do you know each other? You never said you were from Chon'sin—"

"Darling, you mustn't be jealous," Maribelle says. "It doesn't look good on you."

Neither does the flush that makes Lissa resemble a tomato with pigtails. "I-I am not jealous," she hisses to Maribelle. "I am not," she tells Lon'qu, very insistently.

"So I see," he says, trying to keep a straight face, as Lissa pouts and folds her arms.

Maribelle shared an amused grin with him, and then it softened into a sweeter smile.

Lon'qu's tongue was like lead in his mouth. He didn't quite know what to say, and the moment felt so important that he would rather say nothing at all than ruin the feeling of standing right on the edge of something precious beyond words.

Lissa's cheeks were still pink. She glanced between him and Maribelle, her nervousness written on her face. Then her eyes narrowed in determination and she wrapped an arm around Maribelle's waist, hugging her close.

"I mean, even if I was jealous, hypothetically—" Lissa raised her chin and looked Lon'qu straight in the eyes. "—we wouldn't have any reason for it. Right?"

There it is again. We. Such a small word, but it means the world right now.

"Of course not," he whispers.

As if there could be anybody else.

Lissa smiles and before he's had time to do more than hear his heartbeat quicken, he feels his hand close over hers, and then Maribelle's. Their fingers lace together.

Being back in Chon'sin makes it feel a little like a dream, and he has the sudden urge to pinch himself—until reality comes crashing back. He tries to pull away, but Lissa holds his hand firm.

"Are you… sure?" Lon'qu searches for some kind of doubt in their expressions. "I mean, I can't—" Memories like ghosts, a chill down his spine. Blood and broken promises. Ke'ri died here. "I can barely even hold your hands."

Maribelle must see something haunted in his face, because her eyes widen and she lets go of his hand. Lissa follows her lead after a moment. Lon'qu tries not to snatch his hands back, but it's a close thing. He takes a moment to close his eyes, breathe deeply and centre himself. There's no blood in the air, only the scent of dry earth from Chon'sin's hot summers and the faint scent of Maribelle's perfume.

After a minute, he opens his eyes. Lissa hurriedly straightens, pretending like she wasn't studying him out of worry, and Maribelle's smile is so gentle as to be almost unlike herself. "You're worth waiting for, my dear," she says.

Lissa nods.

This is the land in which Ke'ri died, and he'll always remember that. But it could also be the place where he, Lissa and Maribelle began, and that is worth remembering, too.

Lon'qu enjoys a moment of quiet with them – not holding hands, or even touching, just being near. He watches Lissa fiddle with her pigtails until Maribelle tuts and begins to untie them to be fixed. The only backdrop is the sound of their own breathing and the chittering of insects.

Of course, Lissa can't keep still for long. As soon as her hair is fixed, she burbles a thanks to Maribelle and says, "So… did you know Say'ri when you lived here?"

"Lissa," Maribelle hisses.

Lon'qu snorts. "No. I lived on the streets. I doubt I ever came within a mile of the princess."

"Oh." Lissa's face contorts somewhere between surprise, relief and sympathy.

"I can tell you about it, if you'd like," he offers.

A part of him is still uncertain, but… it feels like the right time. Like things coming full circle.

Lissa notices his mood and shuffles a little closer to him, leaving a gap of a few inches that she knows he can tolerate even on bad days – though only thanks to Maribelle's efforts. "This isn't going to be a happy story, is it?"

"No," he admits, "but maybe it can have a happy ending."

A/N: Originally written for the FE Xenologues fic exchange on AO3. This pairing is basically my OT3 so I was excited to write something for it! I'd love to hear your thoughts!