One

'Gavroche' chases her down after that kiss from nowhere. He follows just long enough for Robin to believe she's in the clear, then catches her by the shoulder. Whether out of spite, a twisted sense of returning a favor, or simply an inherent need to not be OUTDONE - he gives a her torso a gentle spin and her chin an imperative lift. Before she can breathe a word, a smug smile presses to her mouth.

Two

A rough battle. A long day. Nerves exhausted from physical and mental exertion alike already make a debriefing between tacticians difficult to focus on. Eyes flicker each in turn, each in time - up from lines of notes to lines of weary (but not yet worn out) faces. Unnatural pauses in speech only to stare reveal the desire to damn it all for just a night, even just an hour. Gavroche tosses papers aside to trade for wine. Less than a glass in, Robin crosses her legs to hang over the tabletop and dips her thumb into the liquid to spread it across her lips. No sorcerer can resist breaking that kind of seal.

Three

Robin is as strong and cunning and COMPLEX as any Nohrian royal could have a taste for. Thighs coated in the blood, mud, sweat, and magic of war somehow wrap his shoulders tight after beguiling him between them. She is bitter where Gavorche bites, but oh so sweet to sample at the core. He'd have her whimpering for another round just as desperate as she begs for any rematch of their chess games - and just so - could expect a turn of the tide if she wills it. But he never would have joined the Shepherds in the first place if he weren't content enough to take orders from her.

Four

Robin and Gavroche share secrets as much as they share books and beds. Invisible bonds become that much stronger with practice, and they are near inseparable and untouchable around camp. They push each other to the end range of their skill; he is almost at the limit of what he can tell her; she is almost at the last recollection memory serves. They travel and fight until they've nearly found him a way home. Almost there, ALMOST, and never naming it. "…LEO. My real name is Leo," he says through rough kisses down her neck, clawing dark red streaks into olive along her back in competition of possession with the scars and purple marks already there, "…use it." She swallows as she lets it and him sink in to her being. "Leo…" she states the fact with wonder, with the contemplation that this is just another piece of information for her to be responsible for, to be trusted with. She has far too much of that already, and yet the hopeful, grateful, piercing look those brown eyes give her make it worth carrying the weight of another body atop her own. "Leo…" she whispers again to him in acceptance, like the tickle of a feather across his cheek, like a promise to always keep him under the protection of wings. He holds her head and closes his eyes, and pulls her into a kiss which breaks any pretend barrier into shards which cut what words of resistance to romance might remain out of her mouth. Her chest swirls with the fluttering of leaves in a gust, and suddenly it makes sense how he can nurture life out of even the most dry, barren type of earth.

Five

Leo left. They always knew he would. Get him home - that was the plan. One she helped make, one she agreed to, one she dreamed with him. He had never promised FOREVER. Anyway, he always said forever wasn't very long at left, but a few weeks later Robin found out. Not every part of him was gone from her world. War always feels like forever, but comes to an end eventually, too. So she can only believe his words are true. She'll dare to find a way to see him again before the end of forever, and not only for herself. For now, she brushes away goldenrod bangs from a tiny face, and gives newborn baby Morgan a kiss on the forehead in his father's stead.

Six

Robin found him. Of course she did. She could do anything. She could, or so Leo hoped. Hoped, because home had become nothing. Hoped, because he returned too late. Too late to help, too late to save so many so dear. Brilliant as he could be, his genius plans meant nothing when he wasn't there to make them. She finds him, but a smart and stubborn prince had been elevated and reduced to a king on a throne of rubble he never intended to take, with a bloodied tapestry of loss and disillusion to decorate his castle. The land never felt so dark, and neither did his soul. She had sweet talked her way onto the royal carpet, and stands before him, forcing a smile even as the devastation pieces together in her head and disbelief spreads across his face. He steps towards her, and takes her hand, looking at her like she might be the one to DISAPPEAR this time, breathing in and heaving audible exhales like it's the first refreshing wind of news he's had in quite some time. He could really use a tactician now that he can't be, …and he misses her. She could do anything, and she would do it for him; she always had. The return grip she gives makes it a promise. Shame, but truth: she's a bit of experience in building up war-ravaged regions, as well as the spirits of a newly exalted BROKEN SIBLING. "Mama…!" The reverent kisses he places to her knuckles in so glad of a greeting is interrupted by the sharp-nosed toddler running up, who just couldn't wait to show off the little green sprout he's summoned from a training tome…

Seven

They avoid it for so long. It's so easy to do with Leo going about his duties, and attempting to spend time getting to know Morgan while Robin gets to know Nohr. He has a new life, she gave up hers. They have a common goal, a blooming happiness in the bleak, and they walk the halls of Krakenberg as much in tandem as they ever did weaving between tents. They have a CHILD, and gods know Leo doesn't want him to be saddled with the same unspeakable name he had to carry. There's only one place to go from here, and the thought terrifies, but they can deny it less and less with every step forward. He gave her a heart and power she never knew she had, and she brought him the warmth of a desert sun when he thought all light had been lost. Shoulder and arms and hips brush so many times, neither remembers who pulled who close first, but it doesn't matter. Their lips meet and don't part until they've near turned blue with need for a breath. Now they've started again, quite likely never to stop.

Eight

Royalty seemed like something Robin could never escape. Surrounded by it as far back as she could remember, stuck between it in battle and in politics, even after running from her own inheritance after learning about her heritage, perhaps becoming part of it is one path of fate she's meant to take. Morgan at their side, she stands with Leo at the Dusk Dragon's altar in the type of dress she'd always balked at wearing, but she's proud to here and now. Meanwhile, he wears a smile like she hasn't seen in awhile, and more vulnerable than she's ever seen before. She has no veil to lift, instead he places a black and twisted crown that looks just a little too appropriate onto her head, and in their descent, his fingers brush tiny spirals away from her cheeks. Even if when regarding Hoshido, he still spits the word allies more like a curse than a promise, what will he musters in setting aside resentment is only for the peace which he finds in her face first. Robin is the brightest spot in Leo's life, the dawn of a new day which the nighttime Kingdom of Nohr has been waiting for. …And so with too many bearing witness (and two sorely missed), one sweet kiss in the middle of a ceremony makes her its and his QUEEN.

Nine

"You know, I feel just awful that you never got a say in Morgan's name." Robin is about ready to burst through her gown, barely fits on the rocking chair; though, she must admit that this has been a far more comfortable pregnancy than when she had been running around with the Shepherds and trying to hide most of it, "You can pick this one, alright?" "If you insist," Leo replies matter-of-fact. He's kneeling before her, far more entranced with holding his hands around the sphere of her stomach, grinning each time he feels a little kick. He doesn't want to miss a thing this time around. "You sound like you already have something in mind for him…" "Yes." He had for awhile now. He is regrowing the cut branches of his family tree, and his traveled little bird is finally putting down roots. The boy will no doubt be strong, and full of magic. He will have a nurturing home, and help continue to make Nohr a powerful shelter for its people, helping them find their way if they are lost. He will be beautiful and lush, Leo knows it. He places a peck for both of them above her belly button. "…Forrest."

Ten

The boys are in bed, tailored carefully to by butlers and maids. The king and queen are still awake, books and papers strewn across desks side by side. No matter the time that passes, or how much help they have, the work never seems to end. The night is not unlike any other, and after some of the days and nights they've had - some same old, same old as they get older really isn't so bad. Robin's slumping head juts back up when Leo walks over and knocks the cover of a book out of her hand to slam shut. "Come, my love," he lifts her chin in that soft yet commanding way of his, and bows into her until their lips meet, "This is enough for the evening. Let us leave these dense treaties behind and read our children a bedtime story with a goodnight kiss while they still allow us." Such a lovely scene refutes rejection, even if she wanted to. Though she often refuses him certain words out of sheer tease, she sighs them so easily this time as he pulls her up from the seat, "…I suppose you're RIGHT." After all, there would be many more chances for work to be done together.

And many more smooches still to come.