Author's Note: I was in the mood for angst and heartbreak and this is the culmination of such things. God, this was sad to write. The only song playing as I wrote this was "Losing Your Memory" by Ryan Star so if that doesn't set the tone of this piece I don't know what will. This takes place after the war ends, whether Revelation or Conquest doesn't really technically matter. All that matters is Laslow/Inigo decides to return since his job is done and goes through with their plan of erasing themselves from everyone's memories. He knows that Xander has expectations to carry on his family's legacy and provide an heir for the throne which he can't fit himself into, not in the way he wants.

I don't have a Beta so all mistakes are mine. Please inform me of any and I'll fix them right away. Please R&R! Thank you.

FYI, if it wasn't already obvious, I don't own Fire Emblem Fates or any of these characters.

They had agreed that this was the right choice. That it would be easier for everyone involved if they just went through with the idea. The two of them never belonged in this world to begin with and it would be wrong to have their lords and lady miss someone they could never see again. But then why did his hand tremble before the door to his lord's study? Why does he hesitate? He believes this is the best course of action for all. Truly.

Laslow knocks on the wooden frame. A gentle yet commanding "come in" greets him. The door opens with a groan that causes the man at the desk to look up from his paperwork. He smiles at him. His blonde hair reflects the sunlight from the window, encasing his lord in a golden halo. The sight nearly causes him to trip on his own feet.

"Laslow," he greets.

"Milord," his voice stutters causing the man to frown.

"Is everything well?"

Xander's voice is concerned. Whether for him or for his country, he doesn't know. He quickly pulls himself together wearing his customary smile. His face nearly strains with the effort.

"Everything is fine milord. I merely wished to speak with you."

Xander tilts his head a bit to the side, but gestures for Laslow to take the seat in front of him. Laslow slumps into the chair with less grace than he normally exudes. However, the tremors in his hands have yet to stop. He folds his hands on his lap, hoping his lord saw nothing.

"Tell me what's on your mind Laslow."

The lump in his throat nearly suffocates him, but he forces it down.

"Do you remember our conversation after my house arrest so long ago during the war?"

Xander's brow quirks at the odd question. The corners of his lips twitch up in amusement.

"I do. Not many royal retainers would get off so easily." Laslow laughs, but there's hardly any humor in it. The action causes his lord to frown. "Why do you ask?"

"If I were to go somewhere. Somewhere far away...if you never saw me again...would you be angry? Would you be able to forgive me for abandoning you?"

His lord's frown deepens as he recalls those very words from another conversation.

"I have told you before that I would. You still draw breath Laslow...It is all I ever wanted." Xander closes his eyes, head bowed. "You are leaving."

Not a question, a statement. Barely audible in the silent room. Laslow's eyes burn. His vision blurring, but he blinks the tears away. He has experienced the pain of losing those dear to him. He has fought Risen and Fell Dragons. He has walked into the unknown with only hope in his heart and yet...this is one of the hardest things he has ever done. Since his appointment as Lord Xander's retainer, he relished every moment of it. He was proud to serve the Crown Prince of Nohr. A proud, loyal man who would do anything for his country and its people. But he was given the chance to know the real Xander. The Xander who knew everything about his siblings despite their beliefs. The Xander who trained long into the night with every intention of protecting his family. The Xander who would smile and laugh. The Xander who would lay awake at nights, struggling with the weight of the world. Who would lean into his embrace and spill his every worry and sorrow.

"I am."

The words feel like cotton in his mouth. He can see his lord's jaw tighten in response and at once he wishes he could take the words back, but that would be a lie. He never belonged here. In Nohr. In Hoshido. His place lay in Ylisse. A whole world away from this one and yet just as strange from his true home. When he first entered this world, he made a promise to himself, a rule to live by while he was here. Don't get attached. A promise he broke with his own hand and a charismatic lord by his side.

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning." Lies. "I wanted to say goodbye. Properly."

Their eyes lock. Amber meeting steel.

"I assume it would go amiss trying to persuade you to stay?"

No. If his lord demanded it, he would remain by his side forever. He would give up everything he knew without a second thought. But his lord is too kind. Too gentle and forgiving to demand such a thing from him. Laslow nods.

"I should return home."

Xander's lips thin.

"Very well. You have my blessing."

His lord engrosses his attention back to his paperwork. Laslow watches as his eyes skim the pages yet his mind registers nothing on them. The silence stretches between them at miles a second. He doesn't want to leave. The same feeling that kept him by his side after his house arrest returns. It pulses through his veins and settles in his bones. The charm in his pocket burns in reproach. Yet...

"Are we truly to leave it at such a parting?"

Xander's movements pause. Those amber eyes watch him from just beneath his bangs. His quill hovers over the dotted line of the new trade agreement.

"Was there something else you wished to talk about?"

Laslow flinches at the clipped tone. He's shutting himself off. Recoiling back into his shell to keep from feeling anything. The stoic King of Nohr sits before him and it breaks his heart.

"Well, I was hoping we could chat over tea or take a walk through the garden for old times sake?"

"I am not one of your countless paramours."

"No, you're not." The words come out in a breathless whisper yet his lord's eyes widen all the same. "You are so much more than that."

He refuses to meet the older man's gaze. His heart laid bare for his king to see. It had built so slow and so steady that he didn't know it was upon him until it was too late. In truth, it had terrified him. The constant presence of the man addled his mind and nearly had him pushing up daisies once or twice on the battlefield. Falling in love was not part of the plan. He had a job to do and distractions would only cause problems. Such as tavern fights and house arrest...but falling for the crown prince of Nohr was worse than he realized. It had him questioning everything he had set and planned. This man before him could make him stay and he almost hated him for it.

"Excuse me?" Silence enveloped the room. "If this is another one of your jokes I am not amused."

Laslow finally looks at him. His mouth is set and his eyes are firm. Yet there's an odd glimmer beneath the gaze that has Laslow's blood racing. In just one brief moment, he abandons all sense. He carefully stands from his chair. His hands no longer tremble though his heart beats erratically. Xander watches his every move. For once, he looms over the elder man. Laslow extends his arm. Cautiously. Ever fearful of the rejection that's sure to come. Yet his fingers graze smooth skin and curl around golden locks, tilting his head up.

There's a fire in his eyes. A challenge. A dare. Laslow swallow as his gaze drops to his lord's mouth. He watches the slightly older man through his lashes, giving him the chance to back away. But he doesn't and Laslow finds his self-control slipping until his lips capture Xander's own. Rough and chapped. No doubt from the many winters in Nohr. Yet it is perfect. Sheer bliss as he pours all of his pent-up emotions into it. Xander responds in kind. What could have been hours pass before they break away. Gazes once again locked. Faces flushed red. His lord's breath ghosts against his cheek.

"Stay."

Laslow's heart stills. Xander's expression holds him. Freezes him in his tracks and thoughts. A plea, hopeful and desperate in its cry. How had he made the crown prince fall in love with him in turn? Now a king. A king with duties and obligations. To his country. To his people. To himself. Tasks where Laslow could no longer see his role.

"I'll stay."

Just for tonight he will let himself be selfish.

The moon is high above Castle Krakenburg when he stirs. Though, if he were honest, sleep had avoided him. Everything is quiet. The only sound that of his lord's steady breathing so different than the sounds of last night. Laslow's body trembles in remembrance. He could do it. If he didn't think too hard about it, he could fall back asleep and wake up beside his lord tomorrow morning. But he wouldn't and that was the key difference.

By the light of the moon, he gathers his clothes, putting on each piece with considerable effort and slight pain. When he was fairly sure he looked presentable, his fingers reached into his pant pocket. The charm Owain had cast lies in his palm. A simple spell. One that would make tonight and him nothing more than a dream. His fingers twitch, resisting the urge to crush the damn thing. It's for the best. With a deep breath, he places the small slip of paper beneath his lord's pillow. A whispered word and the parchment glows faintly, signalling its activation.

His eyes rake over Xander's form once more. Every fiber of his being is screaming at him to return to the bed. To return to those arms that held him so dearly mere hours before. But he swallows those feelings down.

"I will never forget you."

With one last kiss, Laslow walks away.