A/N: Just an idea that came up. Constructive criticism is valued. Have a good day.
The days were cold and the nights reminded him of the chill of indifference life had given him when he lost the first girl he cared for. At night when the harsh cold of Regna Ferox managed to bring drafts through his opened window, he would extricate himself from his furs and stood before it, in hopes to numb his depression and anxiety from the second loss.
When he watched her go, Lon'qu felt just as useless as when he first witnessed Ke'ri die. He could have done something about it this time around, but he realized the strength of his wife's conviction when she pushed Chrom aside and dealt the finishing blow.
Lon'qu had been forced to separate from his tactician when Morgan fell back. And when he managed to bring his son back to his feet, it was already too late.
She had done the deed.
Her cloak flapped with the wind, her hair obscuring one side the second she gave a sidelong stare to everyone. On the windy battlefield that was Grima's back, everyone went rigid.
His wife's body began to disintegrate before everyone. Each fiber of her being became motes of energy as she slipped within the winds embrace.
He managed to catch her eye for a brief second and he felt his heart go cold.
"Mom..." Morgan whispered. The strain in his voice was enough for Lon'Qu to break out from his disgruntled faze.
"No, you can't go!"
His felt his hands instinctively tighten around the hilt of his blade. Without a moment's hesitance he fought against the wind to close the distance, but it had already been too late.
It took Frederick and Gregor to hold the swordsman back.
Chrom had been frozen the entire time. The crown prince of Ylisse sunk to his knees and clutched Falchion to his chest in a manner which would suggest keeping him from falling.
Once the final motes of the beloved tactician disappeared into oblivion, the entire army was transported when the Fell Dragon disappeared in a similar fashion.
Grima is gone and so is my wife.
They wounded up atop a bluff, overlooking a massive expanse while the sun sank in the distance. The skies glowed a mix of tangerine and lavender.
"She cannot be gone, she can't," someone cried in the crowd.
Several voices joined in, adding their own reassurances.
"I cannot believe her to be gone; she is not the dying sort." He interjected, pressing a hand above his heart while he looked at the sunset.
Morgan joined him soon after, standing beside him until Lon'Qu took his son into his arms.
They wept quietly while everyone else rounded up to Chrom, wondering for their next course of action.
It wasn't much of a surprise when the Ylissean prince announced the searched for their fallen tactician.
However, that was a year ago now.
Midway in the search, Lon'Qu could no longer gather his bearings and soon disappeared from the Shepherds. However, it did not take long for his son to find him. The boy had been seething in a mixture of grief and anger.
He could tell that his son did his best to restrain himself, noticing how his knuckles turned white when he clutched at his tome. There was noticeable age on the text, having many dog-ears, yellowed pages, and the cover expressing excessive use. Lon'Qu knew it was his wife's strategy book.
"How could you just leave without saying a word!?" Morgan screamed, his dark eyes glassy with tears.
"I..."
He couldn't come up with a coherent explanation. Not a plausible one, at least.
Because she's dead, I can no longer keep searching for a ghost. He had wanted to say, but the swordsman couldn't bring himself to say them. Not to his son, anyway. Yet, Lon'Qu couldn't believe his own words, either. Not when the son he created with his beloved wife still managed to be here.
He is from the future, if she was gone, so would he.
But then he reminded himself that his Morgan quite possibly belonged to another time. A dimension where she still lived.
Oh, the things he would give up if he could wind up there.
In the end, he dealt a falling out with his only son. The one person that held half of his wife in his blood, but Lon'qu could not bear to look at Morgan, especially when he possessed a likeness to his wife. He inherited her soft yet expressive eyes and the glow in them when he came to a conclusion or the wrinkle between his brows when he entered deep contemplation. However, in the moment, a likeness of his own revealed in Morgan when the boy realized that his father would not budge. There was a glint in his dark eyes, a fury only Lon'Qu recognized whenever he looked himself in a mirror.
It was the anger he harbored when life first dealt him a crushing blow.
Lon'Qu did not go after his son when he stormed off. He couldn't.
I dealt the boy the same coldness life gave me.
We've won the war, but lost the greatest treasure.
Eventually, the swordsman returned to Regna Ferox, with the intent to remain champion to Basilio. However, when he took the first crusty step before the portcullis of Regna Ferox, the former leading Khan refused him.
He still took residence in the northern kingdom, but he no longer held his blade for the West Khan. Instead, he took up a position as guard and often took many chances for the nightly watch.
Sleep eluded him like the comfort he sought. When he tried to close his eyes, all he could feel was restlessness. Too often would he find himself trying to grasp the familiar warm skin of Robin and the scent of her hair when he clutched for the spare pillow. Before the final battle, Lon'Qu sent a raven which held details for the future arrangements. Unfortunately, it was all for naught.
Therefore, Lon'Qu stayed up all night, slept all morning, and idled about in the afternoon.
On one particular early morning, however, he returned to his chambers only to find Basilio waiting.
The skies were the color of inky mist, glowing faintly in the distance. It would not take long for the morning to grow dark once more, characteristic to the land of Regna Ferox.
When the surly man turned to face his former champion, he nearly fell back, but regained his stature by holding onto a nearby sconce.
"Gods! Lon'qu, is that truly you?"
Lon'Qu remained silent, bringing a calloused hand to his face to feel the rough hairs that had grown. His fingers remained until he felt reassured that he was touching his own face.
"Far as I know, I still am," he replied in a dull tone, "what brings you here, Khan?"
The dark man regarded the swordsman uncomfortably, not used to such formality. Especially from the man who served him dutifully. In the kingdom of ice where warriors were as harsh as the winters, actions said more of a person than their words and the actions from Lon'qu rivalled a snowstorm.
"Basilio, my name is Basilio,"
"I know your name, sir,"
Basilio frowned, perturbed by Lon'qu's aloof manner.
Regardless, the West Khan dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a package. He held it before Lon'Qu, a look of sternness came across his face that even shook the swordsman.
Lon'Qu dropped his eyes onto the package, noticing two seals from the royal house of Ylisse and Plegia.
He did not bother to take the package, so when Basilio took possession of his hand, Lon'qu barely gave a squeeze to keep the package between his fingers.
"Pull it together, damn it, or I'll kill you!"
When Lon'qu only stared back, blinking once, the West Khan growled and left. His steps deafening the farther they went rather than quieting.
Entering his chambers, the swordsman tossed the package aside. He freed himself from his garb and dressed plainly, adoring a wool shirt, loose trousers, and draped a cloak around him. For most of the early morning, he drank red wine and eventually fell asleep.
"Lon'qu, what are you doing over there?" she asked him.
The dark-haired man froze in place at her voice. He had not heard it in what felt like years. Lon'qu found himself in a grassy field, seeing the tall grass bend under the breath of wind and heard the leaves shutter. Not too far away he found a cleared path. It did not take long to realize where he was.
The pathway to the Halidom of Ylisse was a blur for Lon'qu only visited the land a few times. Is this where his wife, Robin, was found?
Must have been when he found her form, her back to him with her head bent forward as if she were reading.
Without a moment's waste, he tried to walk towards her. Unfortunately, his steps were slow and ponderous. What in the world?
"Lon'qu, you're not answering me… why are you over there? Come here, with me, I have something to show you."
He did his best to come to her beck, but the weight of his feet barely budged. In vain, he cried out.
"Robin, I can't move, I…"
A dark fog enveloped around her in an instant. Curling, undulating, something like a flicker light tried to break free.
When he heard her speak again, cold fingers ran up and down his spine. No longer was it soft and calming like he had remembered, now her voice registered to a humming tone. The more words that left her mouth, the deeper her voice went until he heard a clap of thunder ring out above. Lightning tore through sky and struck his wife.
"Robin!"
Now he felt his feet become weightless. Lon'qu went to close the distance between them, but where his wife had stood was now replaced with a towering beast.
Grima's legs were bigger and thicker than the watch towers of a castle. The Fell Dragon loomed over the swordsman and let out a thunderous roar.
"NO!"
You were supposed to search for me, a voice cried in his mind.
You left me alone to wander in isolation… you abandoned your search… Morgan… he…
"You're dead! I… are you…? What of Morgan…? Did he… join you…?"
The beast cried out in anger. Before Lon'qu could register what to do next, Grima dipped its mighty head downward and caught the swordsman between its teeth.
"I'm sorry!"
His skin was drenched in perspiration. The furs stuck to him uncomfortably so he tore them off before he fell off from his bed. Everything about him was odd and strange, out of focus and he felt a lump in his throat. Reaching for the window, he pushed it open and retched.
When he was done, Lon'qu remained there, letting the icy air dry his sweaty skin and to numb his body till he couldn't feel it quake.
Naga, bring her back to me, please.
Lon'qu back away from the window, turned, and looked for the package. Something in him urged him to open it. When he found the package, Lon'qu nearly tumbled over. He retrieved it from the ground and brought it with him as he sat near the brazier. Gingerly, he removed the seals of the two kingdoms and placed them aside. There was a note etched into the box that read: to a Khan in the making.
He furrowed his brows. Giving it a shake, he felt an assortment of round shapes roll about. When he opened it he felt his heart tighten.
Figs.
For just one moment Lon'qu dared to hope. One moment of reprieve made him feel alright. Could this mean Robin was alive?
He breathed deeply.
Beneath the figs he found a letter. He went to light a candle before he did anything else.
Dear Lon'qu,
Under orders of the newly crowned king of Plegia, we ask of you to lend your strength to our kingdom. The rulers of Plegia and Ylisse have forged an alliance that provoked ill feelings. The Grimleal still prove a threat after the fall of Grima and people of ill intent wish to kidnap the offspring of the fallen vessel. As the father of King Morgan, we ask of you to come as quickly as possible, for your martial prowess is well-known.
As an order from the king, he asked of us to send you an assortment of figs. We hope they are to your liking.
From the Council of Plegia.
"King… Morgan…?"
The dream from earlier flooded his mind. Robin chastised him for his relent and made mention of Morgan. Is this what she meant?
As he sat there, a new feeling filled him, an emotion which made every muscle tense. Another one seeped in soon after when he realized that his wife was looking after him, after all this time. While the sentiment was a pleasant one, Lon'qu realized he had brought grief to Robin. The only way he could make amends was if he answered the beck of his son-now-king.
"Robin… I'm sorry."
Before he left the kingdom of Regna Ferox, he asked a page to send word of his leave to the Khans.
"When will you return?" the page had asked.
Lon'qu stared out to watch the flurry of snowflakes fall all around him.
"I don't know, I'll see how the heat of Plegia takes to me."