Indulgence
"Shit," Laslow swore. Sweat glistened and dripped and drizzled down the sides of his face. Shakily, he raised a hand to wipe it away.
The battle was won.
Setting aside his bow, he ushered his mount into a trot, scanning the landscape for a trace of his beloved. He lost her in the ambush, their unit splitting into two. He hastened his mount's pace, the familiar panic setting in his bones, as his grip unconsciously fastened around the reins.
Frantically, he called her name, "Corrin!" Each call louder and more desperate than the last. Until finally he heard the weak bleating of a dragon's call.
He swore and spurred his mount into a gallop. She was hidden beneath a shelf of rock, curled into herself. She had returned to her human form, clearly weakened.
"Corrin?" he softly called, carefully cradling her head. She hissed in pain as he lifted her.
"Damn. Damn," he whispered, clenching his teeth. She was bleeding from the side, most likely sliced by the serrated edge of a dragonslayer. He tore a section of his cape and held it against her torso, staunching the blood.
"You're going to be okay, you're going to be okay," he crooned softly. He bit his lip and blinked away his tears.
"Laslow," she murmured. He tightened his hold on her, bringing his ear close to hear her. She squinted up at him with her one good eye. "A smile suits you... better. Don't you... think?" She smiled lopsidedly, weakly covering his hand with hers.
He agreed, but the tears wouldn't stop.
He stared blankly ahead, recounting the day's events. He couldn't recall last when he had experienced fear so raw. It was downright maddening how useless he felt in that moment. He clenched and unclenched his fist, replaying the events in his head, trembling in near-rage. Nothing had changed since he was a child. If they weren't found so soon by the wyvern scouts...
A hushed voice interrupted his thoughts: "Scoot over." A nudge in his side caused him to jolt under his covers.
"Corrin," he hissed quietly, "you should be resting." Still, he abided, as she crept beneath his blankets. Laying on her side, she smiled crookedly.
"I'm okay."
"No, you're not," he bit back. He smoothed his hair, trying to quell his anger at himself, and to stop himself from venting it on her.
Her eyes narrowed worriedly, as she scooted closer. "Are you angry?" she asked, softly.
"Yes—No—I don't, know," he admitted, running his fingers through his hair. "But, not at you," he hastily added upon seeing her downcast expression.
"Then who?" she pressed. She leaned in, their breaths intermingling.
He paused, drawn in by her eyes and the adoration they revealed that he knew was reserved for him. Comforted by this thought, he relaxed and finally admitted, "... I—me. I thought I was going to lose you." He buried his nose into her neck. "I'm so useless," he muttered into her shoulder.
"Laslow, that's not true at all. You found me—"
"But I couldn't do anything—"
"You did everything you could do, and I'm fine!" She swatted at his chest. With cooled hands, she cradled his face. She steadied her gaze to match his. "... I'm fine," she whispered, pressing their foreheads together.
They laid there, reveling in the night's hushed silence.
She broke the silence first: "Laslow, let's get married. Let—let me finish." She put a finger to his lips.
"Remember when we talked about goodbyes? It scared me to think today might have been it." She shut her eyes tight. "I—I want to marry you, Laslow, right now. Tomorrow morning, we'll see Xander and have the documents done." No reply. Her heart skipped, dejection sinking into the pit of her stomach. "L-Laslow?"
His body trembled. His hand covered his eyes, yet did little to stop his tears from splashing across his cheeks. "Tomorrow, then?" Corrin gently brought his hand away, kissing the top of his knuckles.
"When the war ends, we'll have a proper wedding. But until then, let's get married tomorrow." Her voice hitched. "I—I don't want to be your fiancée, I want to be your wife."
He laughed, hugging her close. "Okay, okay," he repeated in between choked sobs and kisses. The sounds of the night were drowned by hushed kisses and whispers of a better future.
A/N: I promised that it was going to be more light-hearted but then all of a sudden the words took a life of their own. It's all right tho. I promise every one-shot will have a happy, fluffy, and cheesy ending.
