Chrobin AU: Everything is black and white until you lock eyes with your soulmate. The first color you see is the color of their eyes, and the longer and more frequently you look into them, the more vivid and vibrant the world becomes. Additionally, when your soulmate dies, the world returns to black and white.
It was always the same.
The same palette of black and white, the same dreary colors that highlighted his entire life.
The same colors he expected to see for the rest of his life.
He never expected to see color until he saw her.
He remembers how they met.
His group had found her lying unconscious in a field. He remembers how his sister had panicked, especially how she had tried to use her staff to wake her up.
"Chrom…
We have to do something."
"What do you propose we do?"
"I...I don't know."
"...Ah!"
The woman's eyelids fluttered open, sleepily blinking as she took in the view of the young prince and princess standing over her.
"Morning. I see you're awake now."
"Hey there!"
"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know. Give me your hand."
He had reached a hand out to her. He remembered that part clearly. She took his hand, and he pulled her up.
And then his eyes locked with hers, and for a brief second, the world burst into color. Reds and yellows and blues. He had cried out in surprise, nearly dropping the poor girl. She yelped and grabbed onto Chrom's shoulder, earning a good laugh from his sister. However, not even Lissa's teasing could reach where his mind was in that moment.
For the first time in the eighteen years he had been alive, Chrom had finally seen color.
Angel was so disoriented then.
She barely knew her own name, and there was no way that this girl knew about the soulmate legends. There was no way she knew that she and Chrom were to become involved in a relationship. She would later discover this legend in the most horrendous way, or at least, the most horrendous to Chrom's taste. Never would he tell Angel about it ever again, so help him Naga.
He remembers when he brought her to Ylisstol for the first time.
She marvelled at the sights, even making some comments on how vivid everything looked. (This earned her some questioning looks from Lissa and more than enough death glares from Frederick.) When she learned that Chrom and Lissa were royalty, the look on her face was priceless. She had immediately stiffened up and her entire tone changed completely, a flushed color on her face.
...Color.
Gods, that's right! He had to ask Emm about this! Surely she'd know what to do.
"...And that isn't even the whole of it! She doesn't remember how she got in that field, she doesn't remember who she was before we met her, and she barely knew her name when we met! How is she supposed to be my soulmate?"
Emmeryn watches her brother pace back and forth in the hall. She is clearly relieved at the news that Chrom, the most romantically challenged of the royal children, has found his soulmate.
Of course, she had her concerns.
"Are you not in love with her yet?"
At that, her brother's face flushed immediately.
"I...I wouldn't say that, Emm. She's definitely smart, and she's had my back ever since we picked her up from that field. I'm just...nervous, I guess."
She chuckled, eliciting a flustered complaint from Chrom.
"That's all I needed to hear, brother."
He's standing in the cold, cursing his bizarre fashion sense.
Of course.
Of course the one place that would provide aid for Ylisse would be Regna Ferox, the coldest country this side of the continent. Chrom regrets every single one of his fashion choices.
However, even the cold can't seem to stop Angel's sharp mind.
She's the brightest Chrom's ever seen her, and from what he's seen from her already, the tactician has already written and rewritten scenarios in her head despite her chattering teeth and shivering body.
The lord finds himself smiling as he watches the young lady's cloak drift across the snow, leaving a slight trail of footsteps.
At some point, she looks back at him and smiles, her brown eyes locking with his own for just a brief moment.
Chrom finds that brown is his new favorite color and that he wears an excessive amount of blue.
They are standing in Arena Ferox with hundreds and thousands of people cheering their name. Angel glances around nervously, walking closer to Chrom.
"I...I don't know if I can do this, Chrom."
She glances at the ground, clutching her Tomes tightly. He realizes one of them is a muted yellow. Is he in too deep already?
He asks what she means, and her lip trembles, a bead of sweat rolling down her face.
"I don't think I can try to lead with all of these people watching."
His face softens and before he knows it, he takes one of Angel's shaking hands and taking them in his own.
"Don't worry about them. I know it's hard, but listen to me, okay?" His other hand brushes the hair out of Angel's eyes and they lock with his own, but he doesn't flinch when the colors roar to life around him this time. "I've got you."
She nods, biting her lip, and hugs Chrom tightly.
They run out onto the battlefield side by side.
They emerge victorious and Flavia provides Feroxi soldiers for Ylisse. They return triumphantly to Ylisstol and celebrate.
He is with Angel when he is ambushed in the palace garden. When the assassin appears, he notices that while his first instinct is to draw his sword and prepare to counter, Angel's is to move into a position that would protect Chrom at all costs, regardless of her own well being. He's not sure about how he should feel about it.
The same blue swordsman (or should he say swordswoman?) from the Feroxi tournament appears and saves the two, even if her face is revealed.
A necessary sacrifice, he assumed.
For a brief moment he wonders how to repay Marth, until he realizes the intent of the attack and rushes to Emmeryn's room with Angel.
They don't get another chance to speak with her after the skirmish.
He's running from his dear tactician, cursing his big mouth.
He really should have thought that one through.
"Hey! Get back here, Chrom!"
He dares to look back for a brief glimpse and sees nothing but Angel's face in a flurry of her white hair, eyes dead set onto his figure. He yelps and runs faster, a scream rising from his throat.
Note to self.
Never mention femininity in front of Angel ever again.
He's trying to pull himself together when he hears the news about Emmeryn's capture.
He's trembling, his knuckles turning white as he grips the red and yellow pommel of Falchion, sweat dripping visibly down his face.
Angel knows that he's trying to stay strong for the Shepherds and places a hand on top of Chrom's and gently squeezes them. She supplies a smile, hoping it'll calm his nerves.
He realizes he's a lot more grateful for the tactician than he ever thought.
He's standing outside hoping that Naga will be merciful and strike him down now.
He walked into Angel showering. Showering! They both screamed and Angel had chased him out of the tent.
His face is still burning from shame while he's waiting for Angel to emerge from the tent, and he finds himself trying to avoid looking at her.
He asks about the marching route, then swiftly returns to his tent to regret every single one of his life decisions once again.
I'm ready to die.
He's startled when he hears Angel scream in the middle of preparation for the march to Emmeryn's aid.
He dashes to her tent, sword drawn and ready, but stops in place when he sees Lissa comforting the tactician.
"She had a nightmare," Lissa murmurs when Chrom sheathes Falchion and approaches the two. The swordsman hums and sits at the edge of the bed, reaching for Angel's hand.
The three of them sit there for a while, simply taking in each others' company before the incoming battle.
A hawk is circling overhead as he spots his sister stepping closer to the edge.
He watches as she gives her speech, then realizes the scale of what Emmeryn is about to do, and before he knows it, he's sprinting across the tiled desert floor with sand blowing into his face as he sees the exalt begin to fall from her perch.
He vaguely hears Lissa scream in anguish.
He could have sworn he felt Angel's hands trying to hold him back, trying to prevent him from being killed by the Plegian archers ready to fire, but she realizes she can't do anything and lets him go. She sobs as she watches Chrom run for his sister's descending body.
He notices that the enemy is completely spellbound by the act that Emmeryn pulled, and they let Chrom pass them by.
He realizes that he can't make it in time.
A scream he didn't know he was holding lets loose as he watches the woman he knew for a majority of his life collide with the ground.
He barely has time to grieve his sister's death before Basilio and the Feroxi soldiers arrive to aid the Shepherds in their retreat.
By the time he gets to the rendezvous point, he feels numb and stops trying.
It stresses Angel out to no end, and he can feel her desperately trying to keep him alive.
At some point she takes hold of Chrom's face as she attempts to keep him active enough to at least fight.
"Chrom! You have to pull yourself together," she pleas. "I know it's hard, and I know that you miss her. But please, we need you alive! Lissa needs you alive. Chrom, I need you alive!"
Angel hisses in frustration when Chrom doesn't respond and takes him by the hand, only letting go to push him out of danger.
They're standing in Ferox covered in bandages and freshly healed wounds.
"Chrom…" She's looking at him with a pained look in her deep brown eyes. "Listen to me. Look at me."
He still feels numb when Angel takes his face with both of her hands to make sure he's paying attention. He notices how her eyebrows crease in concern, with some other emotion he can't quite name. It hurts him.
"I was powerless once too, remember? And yes, alone, I don't think either of us is half the person your sister was." She takes his hand in one of her own, the other wiping one of Chrom's tears away. "But together, we can be so much more. Chrom, look around. Come on, look. We're so lucky to be alive right now. When you fall down, I'll be there to pull you back up. When you fight for your sister's ideals, I'll be by your side."
He feels something in his chest when Angel looks at him like that. It hurts, but it feels right.
"And if we both fall down, well, that's what friends are for, right?"
He's showering to calm his nerves when Angel walks into the tent and shrieks, her face a bright red.
He never noticed how nice that color was-
"Have you NO SHAME?! Noble or not, you should AT LEAST wear a towel when addressing a lady!"
Oh, here we go again.
He's glad that the two of them at least have nothing to hide from each other after the whole ordeal, even if his ear stings from the soap dish Angel threw.
He is praying with Falchion laid across his lap when Angel finds him.
The tactician sits down next to Chrom, bowing her head in respect as he finishes his prayer, then places her hand on top of his intertwined ones.
"Are you nervous too?" She murmurs.
He nods and Angel squeezes his hand reassuringly, yet there's the feeling that he knows all too well since Emmeryn's death. It's unspoken, but he knows it like the back of his hand.
She is afraid to make another mistake and have more royal blood on her hands.
He takes her hand in his own and the two lean together, sharing a brief moment of calm before the inevitable storm of war.
Ah, there's that feeling again. Was it nerves? Perhaps a last wish? He sighed before opening his eyes.
"Angel, there's something I need to tell you."
She hums in acknowledgement, her eyes closed.
Chrom waits for her response, but when none comes, he continues. "I… I have been thinking a lot lately. I owe you an apology, Angel. This wasn't your war to fight." He swallows, a surprisingly gargantuan task for him at this moment, then squeezes Angel's hand gently. "You're the one good thing that came out of this mess. You're the best fighter I've ever known...and my best friend."
He stops when Angel shifts from next to him and clears her throat.
"You don't have to apologize, Chrom." She smiles. "I...I chose to fight this war. I'm going to see it until the end. The proper end, that is. The one that ends in peace."
"Angel, wait. I have to tell you-"
She shushes him gently, as if she knew what he meant to say.
"You can tell me after we bring peace back to Plegia and Ylisse. Promise?"
"...Promise."
He's cornered and injured.
There's sand blowing in his face, a hawk circling overhead, and a promise he has to fulfill on his shoulders.
He knows what he's doing, knows what must be done, but the situation fills him with a dread he never knew before. He shuts his eyes.
The Mad King is cackling as he raises his sword, ready to strike, ready to end this war for Plegia.
He hears a scream from Angel's direction, a wordless scream that has so much emotion compact in a single sound, but Chrom knows it's for him.
She didn't want this.
Neither of them wanted this.
He braces for the blow, but it never comes.
When he opens his eyes, he finds Gangrel stunned by lightning magic and Angel crumpled in a growing pool of her own blood.
He doesn't remember killing Gangrel in a grieving rage.
He doesn't remember when he swept Angel's body up and started running, screaming for help.
The colors were fading. They were bleeding away from the world he saw, turning into muddy reds and yellows and blues.
Gods, why? Was she truly dying? No, she couldn't be, he had just gotten a chance to finally see what it was all like! He can't lose them.
Chrom's holding her close to him, straining his ears to hear validation that she was alive. His vision blurred and he felt tears at the corners of his eyes.
Even nearing death, Angel wasn't concerned about her own well being.
"...Chrom. Are you...are you unharmed?"
She lifted a scarred hand up to his face and he felt his panicked tears being wiped away by cold hands. Her still brown eyes drooped.
"I'm fine. Gods, I'm fine, Angel. Please, oh gods, don't close your eyes. I can't lose you…"
She smiled, a gargantuan effort for the dying.
"Just stay alive," she whispered. "That would be enough."
He can't lose her.
He can't lose her, no matter what.
He already lost one loved one, he can't lose another.
He was just beginning to see what a beautiful person Angel was.
He wanted to tell her what he meant to say.
He still has to fulfill his promise.
This was his fault.
"Please...hang on," he rasped in between shouts for a cleric and desperate lungfuls of air to the wounded tactician. "We just won, you can't just die! Please, Ylisse needs you! I need you!"
"Chrom…"
The Ylissean princess stood in the entrance of the medic tent, arms crossed.
This is the fifth time he's gotten past the guards. Note to self, hire guards who don't let my idiot brother to see his clearly exhausted crush who should be in recovery.
"She has to wake up, Lissa. I can't lose her."
Lissa sighs, carefully prying her brother's broad hands from Angel's thin ones.
"I know, bro. You have to let this take its course. She'll wake up on her own, okay?"
The blonde cleric looks over at the tactician, taking note of her current state.
Two wounds. One major.
One to the right hand. Appears self inflicted, and is criss-crossed over what appears to be a tattoo. When she wakes up, she'll have a long talk with Angel.
One to the left hip. A deep stab mark from a sword meant for killing. It's a wonder she's recovering at all. It's unnatural and worries Lissa deeply, but she's grateful that she's at least healing quickly for someone who stared death in the face and nearly gave their life for her brother.
"...I know."
The cleric takes her brother's hands in her own, looking him deep into his cobalt blue eyes.
"I'll do whatever I can to help Angel. I promise. I know what she means to you, Chrom."
There was a brief silence before she heard him sob (and gods, it was the most heart wrenching sound she ever heard come from her brother) and cling to her, whispering thanks under his breath.
He had forgotten how much he hated seeing in black and white.
Yet, of course, here he was once more, seeing in only those shades.
He hated it with all of his being.
The only other color he could see now was brown. The same deep rich brown of her eyes, the same shade he saw the day they met. The same shade that he could not see in their proper place anymore, now that Angel slept in a coma like state.
It was the only thing that he could wake up to in the morning that assured him that she was still alive, and he held onto every shade of brown as if it were a lifeline.
He has a country to run.
He should not be in here, in this infirmary, to visit his tactician.
...Yet here he is, shirking his duties because he doesn't want to leave her all alone in this room every day.
Note to self: just get Frederick to guard the infirmary.
"Chrom. You should be discussing the peace treaties with the neighboring countries. You should go and get some fresh air."
"I can't leave her here to waste away, Lissa."
"We're trying everything we can, Chrom. Please. It's been two weeks. Angel wouldn't want you to be in here the entire time. You're here between meetings, between exalt business, between peace rallies, hell, you eat every meal of the day in this room! She would be upset to see you like this."
It's silent.
She knows for a fact that her words won't reach him until she gets him out of this room.
That's what she decides to do next.
The two of them are sitting in a field of grass.
The very atmosphere was singing, with birds in the nearby trees and little bees bustling about from wildflower to wildflower. The air was sweet and cleared the mind.
Yet, even in this little haven, the newly coronated exalt found himself thinking about Angel.
And who could blame him? Lissa had brought her brother to the very field where they had found the amnesiac nearly a year ago.
It had been a year since he first met her.
It was stunning to see just how far they had come and how much they had grown.
"...She's your soulmate, isn't she?"
Chrom sat in silence for a brief moment, then laughed bitterly. "What gave it away?"
"Well for one, you're not such a huge dork around the other girls-"
"Not true!"
"And Angel's probably the only female you've ever walked into while they're in the shower-"
"Gods, that was one time-"
"And most of all, you just seem so...alive when you're together."
The bluenette pauses, staring at the sky. "...Do we really?"
"Of course you do!"
The exalt smiled to himself, closing his eyes and breathing in the sweet morning air.
"That's a relief."
In that moment, Lissa knew one thing for sure.
Chrom was helplessly in love with this girl.
"What was it like?" She asked.
"Which part? Being in love?"
"I meant seeing color for the first time, but sure. Tell me about her."
The siblings laughed and leaned against each other.
"It's like...like I finally woke up. Like I was asleep after all these years." Chrom sighed and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "...I miss her."
"Whoa now, you make it sound like she's gone or something! Haha…She's just...recovering."
"..."
"Oh come on, Chrom. It'll be fine! Listen, I checked her wounds the other day and it looks like she'll be back in top health in a good week or two. By then she might wake up, okay?"
"...okay, Lissa."
The next time he passes by his sister is when they're in the barracks.
He pops in to simply find some polish for Falchion, but he sees members of the Shepherds grouped around the cleric.
Once one of them noticed Chrom standing in the doorway, they whispered to each other and the group slowly dispersed, glancing at the exalt.
Lissa rushes off with a new staff in her hands, trying to look busy.
Suspicious behavior.
He's not sure how much more of this he can take.
Chrom is lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. There are concerned voices outside his door. He thinks he can pick out the voices of his sister and Maribelle, but he can't bring himself to rise out of bed.
Would it be wrong to just lie here all day?
What would Angel think?
Chrom sighs, taking in the little details around his room that remind him that she's still here. He isn't sure if he should find comfort in that. Naga knows he wants to, but a part of him is pestering him that he shouldn't get his hopes up.
He's not sure which part of him to listen to.
He finds himself drifting in and out of sleep, faintly remembering a promise that he made.
He has yet to act on that promise, now that he thinks about it.
Gods, would she even wake up? Was Lissa truly right? When he saw Angel lying in the medic tent covered in his and her own blood, it felt as if the very life had been torn out of him. How did she make it? She looked so frail in that moment.
...Ah.
He didn't notice when his eyes started stinging. When did he start crying?
"...I miss you, Angel."
He realizes he's asleep.
At first he wonders why, but he decides that it's better to be here than…
Ah.
He hears a voice.
"Don't forget your promise, Chrom."
Chrom wakes up feeling different.
The air that seemed to weigh down on his back is practically lifted off of him, and he takes a deep breath, stretching.
...What time is it?
He feels restless and his chest is tightening, and at first it feels like something's wrong, but he can't help but think that something new has happened.
He goes to the infirmary, trying to stay quiet as he practically sprints through the intricate maze of hallways.
He could have sworn that he saw Lissa blur past him in his mad dash through the halls, but he doesn't slow down. He needs to know what happened.
He stands at the door with a fist raised to knock, but he hesitates. His lips, once in the shape of an 'o', are now pursed in a tight line of fear and worry, and the arm lifted bears a visible shake.
Chrom has two possible options before him.
Either the love of his life is alive and well, bearing the grin she so often wore, or she's either...either she's...
He refuses to continue that thought, and he growls at himself quickly as if to reprimand himself for thinking such a heinous idea.
Angel has to be alive.
She has to be fighting for her life, she has to be awake. The feeling in his gut would never lead him to tragedy and tears.
After many minutes of contemplation, he knocks on the door before he could back out. And of course, there's no answer immediately, but it's still polite to knock and wait. Some part of him is reminding him of the time that he walked in on Angel and- no no, time to focus. He shakes the burning sensation in his face off.
Patiently waiting to let himself in feels like an eternity- he feels like a child waiting for his mother's approval on whether or not he could go out and play with his friends.
He fidgets in his place as he lets a decent amount of time pass before allowing himself in, and when curiosity gets the better of him, he reaches for the knob and turns it ever so slowly.
He pushes the door open quietly as if he were to awaken a sleeping lion, and when the door's open just enough for his head to fit in, he peeks into the infirmary, surveying the area for his beloved.
He nearly cries from the sight he finds.
Angel is sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes, looking rather wistfully out the window as she blinks sleepily every now and then. The rising sun is visible, some beams of light peeking through the window and silhouetting Angel's frame.
Chrom shuts the door behind him with a click and she snaps to attention in alarm, but her face just lights up when she sees him in a way that makes Chrom's heart wrench.
His eyes are stinging again, oh gods.
"Chrom… Oh thanks gods, you're alive!" Angel's voice cracks ever so slightly from disuse, yet he couldn't be any happier to hear it. "I was so worried… I was so worried that I had left you alone with Gangrel. I know I shouldn't have done what I did, but... You were going to die." Angel laughs, wiping away tears of relief.
Chrom steps over, sitting on the edge of the infirmary bed, wiping away his own tears. He places a hand on one of hers, a habit he never really got rid of, and is relieved to feel Angel's fingers curl around his.
"You have no idea how worried I was, Angel. For the past three weeks, I've been so worried." The prince laughs, leaning against his tactician like that day that already feels like a lifetime ago. "This entire time, I was visiting you. In between meetings, between training sessions, during meals and such. I was just so...nervous. Extremely nervous for you. I wasn't sure if you'd ever wake up, but…" He smiles, closing his eyes. "I'm so glad that you're here. That you're awake."
"I'm glad too," Angel murmurs, pulling Chrom into a hug. "I missed you."
Their eyes lock for just a moment, and in that color-blinding moment, everything felt right.
It takes a solid week for Angel to feel steady enough on her feet to walk around without Chrom's assistance. (Not that she minded that, of course.) The Shepherds are completely elated to see their tactician awake again, and plenty of tears of joy were shed. Lissa revealed that once she heard what she needed to hear from Chrom, she told the Shepherds and they mutually agreed that they had to help in some way, whether it was through medicine or helping Lissa find new staves to use. It certainly explains their suspicious behavior.
Throughout the week, activity eventually dies down and Chrom decides that it's time.
The two of them are sitting in the royal garden, underneath a large tree.
Angel's breathing the air in, sighing happily to be walking around. Chrom leans against the tree, watching her every movement.
He remembers that he never completed his promise.
Well, why not now? A voice seems to say in the back of his mind. Why not?
Why not, indeed.
He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, laughing a bit.
"You know, Angel, in all of this I almost forgot our promise."
Angel hums in acknowledgement. "Ah, our promise. I guess I only made it harder for you, huh?"
"No no! Come on, you didn't know you would be out for three weeks."
"You've got me there, 'captain'." She laughs, leaning against Chrom.
Come on. Now or never.
"Well, here goes. I'm going to say it." Chrom pauses, waiting for a response, but when none comes he continues.
"Angel… I have been thinking about you so much these past few weeks. I think I've finally sorted out my feelings for you. Gods, Angel, I'm in love with you." His face burns but he decides that it's a good sort of burn, and his head leans against Angel's shoulder. "I have been since the very beginning. It took me nearly a year to realize it, but gods, no one here can compare to you. I don't even remember a time where I was truly in love before now."
Angel shifts from beneath his head, and for a second he panics, fearing the worst, but then Angel looks at him with those brown eyes that anchored him when he needed it the most. He never knew just how beautiful the world was until he met her in that field that day.
"I'm so glad you kept this until after the war, Chrom," Angel smiles. "I was afraid that if we were together during it, we'd be so caught up in being together that we would fail, but… Now that we have peace, I can see our future. It's truly beautiful. I want to spend it with you, Chrom. All of it."
"Angel."
"Yes?"
Chrom shifts and stands, then drops to one knee, fumbling ever so slightly to open the little box that he retrieved from the safe of family heirlooms. He finds himself smiling fondly at the ring with the rainbow colored stone set at the center with the Brand of the Exalt around it, then smiles up at Angel.
"Angel, tactician of the Shepherds and keeper of my heart, will you marry me?"
He's practically barreled over by the tactician that he loves so dearly.
"Come on, you already know the answer!"
A/N: Hello! It's been quite a while. I apologize for the inactivity.
I started this story back in April, but due to school I couldn't finish it. It was a rather self-indulgent Chrobin concept, and it escalated from a little idea to this. I'm glad that I found the time to finish it last night! I hope you enjoyed this story.
I am looking forward to writing more content like this. Please leave a review suggesting what I should do next!
~AT