It's an uncomfortable topic. Robin wishes she could say something to deflect the confrontation but that isn't what she is asked. That isn't what they deserve, when they are, at the very least, friends. Instead she swallows and looks at Chrom in the eyes, feels the weight of his ring at her throat and asks the question that she is almost, nearly sure of the answer.

"Are you happy?"

She notes the sudden strain in Chrom's expression, the sudden faraway look in his eyes and the crease at the corner of his mouth whenever he thought of something distasteful. It smoothens out soon after, but she has seen, and, however belatedly, he knows it. "I- can't say I'm not." He says carefully, truths laid between them with thinly veiled pretense. He looks into her eyes and intones, more seriously, more truthfully, "I can be happier than this."

Chrom's thumb brushes over Robin's knuckles in a gentle, subtle gesture, his fingers curling around her palm and lets some of it rest on her wrist. She feels her chest flutter with unfamiliar discomfort and she looks down to stare at their hands.

The mark at the back of her hand is ugly and grotesque against her skin. There were pieces of a puzzle that she could not complete, but here was the hint to her identity, and already she does not want to pry farther into what she thinks is an abyss. Chrom's hand covers it, and she is glad for it; the muted shine of his ring helps buoy her from thoughts of things that she has not done to the acts that she has already done, had requested him to do. She can focus on her mistakes, in the consequences of her actions.

"Then I can't say that I don't regret it. I've ruined your life twice over now." She tells him, and she wishes for the sturdy weight of her coat, for the anonymity of her hood. "I should have thought of another way; what sort of advisor am I, that I can't consider and put your feelings first? I had doomed your sister, and now your future-"

"-is not set in stone." Chrom tells her firmly. "We can change things, for the better. After we found Morgan - after we found our son and our daughter, I could finally see a possibility that we had never attempted." This close, he could feel it when she began to tense, when she realized where he was getting at.

"Don't say it!" She said, low and urgent and panic creeping into her. "Don't say anything that we will regret."

"I would rather say it now than regret not being able to later. Robin… do you dislike me? Do you hate me?"

"What? No!" Robin all but tensed in her conviction. "Chrom, no, you're-" She blushed and fidgeted. "… You're… important to me." Saying it aloud was like prying at well-placed nails.

Suddenly bashful, Chrom seemed to grow more confident and, conversely, more shy. "I thought of you - what an irreplaceable friend you are to me, and found myself thinking… found myself becoming aware of it. That you were more than just a friend."

"You're married!" She all but shouts at him, frustrated at having to remind him of their current circumstances regardless of what brought them there. Robin pulls away from his closeness, needing the space to think, to disconnect so she could reorient herself of the facts. She stands to create as much space between them, trying to be calm and failing, to distance herself but it's an overreaction. It seems like an overreaction. It's something that she has attempted to deny ever thinking. "We can't entertain "

Chrom's eyes flash with similar frustration and he lunges to capture her, to keep her where could have their camaraderie back. "We have [children], Robin!" He yanks harder than he wishes to and it unbalances her.

Her full weight careens into him and his knee impacts something hard. Her bedside table topples to the ground, bringing her candle with it. They stiffen and look over to the edge of the bed, but there's no imminent death by fire yet they do not breathe a sigh of relief. They have caused a racket, and they wait a few beats for worried patrols to come by to ask if there was a problem.

There is none.

Chrom is sure to give their soldiers a talking-to in the morning, but for now, he laughs, low and relieved, because then he doesn't have to explain his foolishness. Robin elbows him good-naturedly and partly out of irritation, but he apologizes and promises to clean up her books for her. He keeps her pinned in place, he using most of his weight to keep her laying in bed, and he smugly rolled them until they were on their sides, with his arms wrapped around her torso and stubbornly plants his chin on the crown of her head.

They are too close now, but he cannot see her face, and she cannot see his, and if they pretend that they are not affected by it, then it didn't - wasn't happening. Chrom won't let the opportunity go to waste.

"If someone comes in, they'll get the wrong idea." Robin says after a few moments of futile struggling. Or the right idea. It was difficult to tell, now.

"Better the wrong idea than taking our conversation out of context." He tries to keep the sting out of his rebuttal; he is sure she already knows this. Otherwise, she would truly make an effort at escaping, so Chrom mentally tallies another win for him.

The risk of rumors spreading of them sharing a cot in her tent in the middle of the night is lower if they keep quiet and discreet. In comparison, discussing Chrom's marital issues and the Morgans situation out in the open would only damn them. There were ears everywhere, and Lucina had already proven herself a capable sneak. That her last known company were the cunning Morgans only increased the possibility of eavesdropping.

"Does this do nothing to you?" He asks softly, nosing at the nape of her neck, where the thin bit of leather has hung for over a year. Her skin is cold, but she is warming to his touch, relaxing even, and her gasp, at least, tells him that his efforts were not wasted.

"Chrom…" She turns her head slightly and he could now see her cheek, but he refuses to move from where he was. He wasn't going to press this any farther than this, not tonight, and not without her consent. Chrom was just trying to make his point stick.

He swallows and squeezes her around her middle. "They didn't recognize me." It was a whisper, only for her ears, and he feels the stretch and strain of his heart at the thought. At the fact. "They didn't recognize Lucina. Lucina, Owain… none of the children knew them, from before they came here."

Robin is still and Chrom knows that she is already thinking of the many reasons why that would be so. "I don't want their doomed future." He continues. But that was nearly an abstract concept, a world where a grim future awaited them. What had brought Chrom here was significantly more base, less idealism and more a yearning. "I don't want a world where my children are strangers to each other. I don't want to be absent in my children's lives." A breath. "I don't want a world where you aren't there with me."

What else would that world be, if their children did now know him, unless they had been separated?

"Oh, Chrom..." Robin turned in his arms and touched his arm, light at first before it laid down more firmly, more solidly. "You are and will be a great father. Lucina loves you, and the child back in that castle will love you too, when you return." When Robin brought him back safely.

And she would.

He sighs into her hair and just embraces her like she was his lifeline. "I know I'm coming onto you like a wyvern in heat, but… please give it some thought."

"… I've been looking into wealthy, handsome wyverns lately." She murmured, resolve slowly crumbling. "But only in my spare time."

"I'm in luck then." He huffed out a laugh.

"But Chrom… what about your wife? About Lucina?" She asked more urgently, the unbridled worry there making him pull back to look at her, to smile at her.

It's a grateful smile, gentle and rueful at the same time and Robin's heart aches for him.

"I wondered… why did you never consider yourself to be my wife." He brushes his thumb over her knuckles again, and it lifts to cradle the pouch she kept, to untie it and reveal the ring he is meant to give his wife. It was given in trust, but perhaps he would have no reason to have it returned. "I wish you had."

Robin has thought more of and has looked out for Lucina more than he could expect. It would have certainly been better than this, Lucina without a tearful reunion and her mother remaining distant in her tent.

It was a gift of time, of consideration and affection, he hopes, and wishes. "Can you promise me that you'll try to look at me, past your general and friend, but as a man and you as a woman? I won't rush you for an answer immediately," he said, sitting up and watching her do the same. "We have our responsibilities, but please give it some thought."

"Just in my spare time," she repeated. Chrom laughed in agreement, and they shuffled around until Chrom could leave freely.

He hesitates for a moment, and Robin made to stand and escort him out, and they do an awkward little dance of propriety, he insisting that she stay in bed and he could show himself out, and she refusing to be pampered like a princess. They compromise: he tarries, and she all but pushes him out.

There is a lot for her to think about tonight.


Author's Note: What a difficult chapter to write. BUT YAY I have surpassed that hurdle.