A/N: Alright, so I have an important question to ask you (my readers) at the end of this chapter. IT IS VERY IMPORTANT! As in will-decide-the-fate-of-this-fic kind of important. But that's at the end, so enjoy the chapter!
Before I forget, two snaps and a clap for my reviewers! Brenna snow! (Studying Aergia's theorem, are we? ;) ) Lady Weavile 461!(Awwe! Thankie!) Emozenith! (Henry's magic is only limited by the power of his imagination...and the energy of his life force. ^w^) And Pandora's gift! (Have some aloe for those burning feels!)
Chrom had lasted far longer than Gangrel had been expecting, but he didn't quite make it to the point that everyone else had been hoping for either: two weeks before the Plegian representative was scheduled to arrive, the Exalt had packed a week's worth of supplies and taken Lissa with him out into the wilderness. Frederick and his wife Sumia both immediately followed afterwards to ensure the safety of their monarch and his sister. This had, quite frankly, thrown the castle into complete disarray as the Ylissean Council were startled to find that their leader had, in essence, vanished into thin air.
Ever her father's daughter, Lucina stepped up and managed to stop the panic from spreading outside of the palace walls though she was unwilling to fully take responsibility—she was certain that Chrom would only be gone for a short while. Her words seemed to soothe the Shepherds and the Council alike and the fear had vanished into a patience as they waited for the Exalt to return.
It was four days after the disappearance that any of this managed to make an impact on Gangrel: he refused to be bothered by the whole situation at all, remaining within his rooms most of the time and not leaving even to get food. He was standing in the courtyard and idly throwing his daggers at a knot in one of the trees when the sound of sudden, rushed footsteps reached his ears and drew his attention away from the impromptu target practice.
It was Sumia, sprinting out the castle doors as fast as her feet could carry her.
"Gangrel!" she called. "Gangrel, there you-ah!"
The Pegasus knight tripped over her own boots and fell flat on the ground with a loud crash. She moaned as she struggled to her feet and stumbled forward.
"Ah, ow. Dangit, I shouldn't have been running."
"Now what was so important that you'd been falling all over yourself to get to me?" the Mad King drawled in a sort of half-attempt at humor. He felt a faint flicker of pride when he saw her go red at the comment.
"Chrom sent me to come get you," she said authoritatively, like a proper soldier delivering a message despite how flushed she was. "He said it was urgent and he needs you there right away."
"And where is this 'there' that his Exaltedness wants me?" the trickster inquired dryly raising an eyebrow.
"Sorry about that Gangrel, but I was told to do nothing except deliver the message and bring you with me."
With that short, cheerful statement, the slim woman seized him by the arm and dragged him away from where he stood with surprising strength. Surprised, he stumbled after her before he dug his heels in and refused to move.
"I'm not going anywhere with you," he insisted.
"Sorry, Chrom's orders."
Sumia then punched him square in the jaw, enough to make the Mad King's head snap to the side and stun him so that she could begin to pull him away to devil-knows-where.
When did she learn to throw a punch like that? Gangrel wondered, a tad dazedly.
He began to resist again when he realized that she was taking him to the stables—or more accurately, to the pegasus that was saddled just outside the stables. It took him only half a moment to understand what she was trying to do.
"I am not getting on that beast!" he insisted.
"It's the fastest way!" Sumia argued. "On foot, it would take at least a day, if not longer, and Chrom said—"
"I don't care what Chrom said! I'm not getting on the pegasus and that's that!"
"Do you need me to slap you again?"
The Mad King paused to glance at her incredulously.
"Normally you slap someone with an open palm," he told her pointedly. "But either way, I am not. Doing. This."
The young woman bit her lip uncertainly, her hand still clenched tightly around his arm. She then began trying (rather sadly in Gangrel's opinion) to drag him towards her mount without success.
"What are you doing?"
The new voiced caused them both to turn and see who had come upon their strange little predicament. It was Sully, dressed for combat practice, her daughter just behind her.
"Chrom told me to come and get him, but he won't mount the pegasus!" Sumia cried, resuming her struggle. The red-clad paladin's eyebrows shot up at that and a smile crossed her face. The vague sense of being doomed began to slide into the trickster's stomach when he saw that grin.
He didn't even try praying to the gods for mercy: he knew they wouldn't listen.
Gangrel swore he was going to die. Or at the very least be sick. With Sully and Kjelle's help, Sumia had managed to get him secured to the saddle of her pegasus and take off. Of course, she had to deal with a vehemently swearing passenger for the first ten minutes before the height got to him and he had fallen silent.
The Pegasus knight was beginning to regret giving the Mad king permission to hold onto her waist to help him feel safer: he was squeezing the breath out of her and she was getting light-headed.
"Can you maybe not cling so tightly?" she wheezed. "I think I might pass out."
The Mad King didn't seem to register what she said at first, but his hold loosened enough to free up her lungs and keep them from danger. His eyes were shut tightly as he waited for the horrid flight to be over and to prevent himself from feeling any worse from accidentally looking down.
Hours later—though it could have been an eon and it would have felt the same to the terrified trickster—Sumia navigated her mount in for a landing. Gangrel eagerly released his grip around her middle and jumped off the pegasus. His legs failed to support him and he landed hard on his hands and knees, panting and sweaty, fighting back the urge to vomit.
"Sorry about the rough ride," Sumia apologized. "It's just that—"
"Chrom's orders, I know," Gangrel growled, trying to slow his breathing and pulse. "Doesn't make it any better, so why don't you just be quiet and leave me for a minute?"
He didn't wait for her answer as he flopped flat onto the ground, reveling in the feel of solid earth. For a few minutes, he was allowed to be at peace and calm himself after the nerve-wracking adventure that had just occurred. But it was not to last for very long: a shadow crossed his face and the trickster opened his scarlet eyes to see Chrom standing over him, proffering a hand to help him rise. The Mad King considered the gesture for a minute before he took the outstretched hand and pulled himself to his feet.
"I'm glad Sumia was able to get you here quickly," the Exalt said, clapping Gangrel on the shoulder like they were old friends.
"Next time, just send her with a message and not a retrieval order," he replied dryly. "I didn't appreciate the sudden lift."
The bluenette laughed and that's when the trickster knew that something had happened: Chrom hadn't laughed aloud for weeks and now that he got a closer look at the man, it seemed he had gotten a good night's sleep for the first time in a while as well.
"Well, you have my apologies and my sympathy," Chrom shrugged, still grinning. The expression faded a moment later into something more serious as he finally dropped his hand from the Mad King's shoulder.
"I certainly hope what you've brought me for is worth it," Gangrel remarked, folding his arms. "Because I am not going through that trauma again."
"Trust me, you won't be upset that I've summoned you. There's something you need to see."
The Exalt gestured for the plegian to follow him and then strode away. For the first time, Gangrel really got a good look at his surroundings: they were in an open field with a few scattered flowers popping up among the tall blades of grass. Nothing really special.
Chrom stopped when a tent came into view, set up under a lone tree in a small valley.
"You'd probably want to go on alone after this point."
Gangrel gave the other man a suspicious sideways glance, but the bluenette simply waved him on with a faint smile. The Mad King sighed heavily before he made his way down the hill towards the tent. He wasn't sure what to make of this whole situation: he'd been given no explanation as to what was happening nor why it was so important for him to be here. Yet here he was. What was the princeling up to?
He reached the tent and hesitated before he took the door flap in hand and pulled it open, stepping inside.
He froze. The tent flap slipped free of his numb fingers, closing him off from the outside world. Closing them off.
It has to be another hallucination, he tried to tell himself. I was right: Chrom's gone mad too.
Seated at the familiar wooden desk, surrounded by books and papers, was Nisha, smiling as she worked. The scene was so...so normal. Her black hair slung casually over her shoulder, her cloak wrapped around her frame...it was just how it had always been. So right. And yet so very, very wrong.
The tactician sighed and stretched, getting to her feet. She turned on her heel as if to go outside but froze when her dark eyes landed on the man standing before the doorway.
"Gangrel?" she breathed, stepping forward. She came closer and closer to him, reaching out her hand as if to touch his face, but she hesitated before she could make contact. Her lovely brown eyes were filled with tears.
"Gangrel," Nisha whispered again. "Oh, I've missed you so much."
Gangrel could have sworn his heart cracked at hearing her voice. It was so real; so lifelike. But it had to be an illusion. It couldn't really be...
The dark-haired woman stared up at him, her gaze searching before her face softened into a gentle smile.
"I really am here," she tried to reassure him. "I am."
The trickster closed his eyes and shook his head ever so slightly, refusing to hear her. Every word further opened the cracks in his chest and he wasn't sure how long he would last before he shattered.
Something warm touched his cheek before something else gently pressed against his mouth, something sweet.
"I'm home," he felt Nisha whisper against his lips. "I'm home."
She kissed him again, more earnestly, more insistent. Gangrel was motionless as her warm mouth touched his again and again. Then he felt more than heard the next words she murmured on his skin.
"I love you."
A moan tore through the Mad King's throat and his hands seemed to move of their own accord as he cupped her face and began to kiss her back. Heat seared inside his chest as the breaks in his heart sealed. And then, to Gangrel's immense surprise, the tactician's fingers wove into his hair, pulling him closer with a passion she had never shown before. Taken off guard, the trickster stumbled and before he realized it, was falling backwards. The harsh landing jarred them apart, driving the air from Gangrel's lungs and leaving him stunned and breathless as his lover landed on top of his chest. Nisha laughed, her hair slipping loose of her ponytail to hang in her face. The length of cord binding her black locks fell away as the Mad King ran his fingers through the dark, silky lengths, staring at her hungrily, hardly able to believe what had just occurred.
"You're back," he repeated over and over, like a prayer. "You're finally back. I didn't think it was possible..."
"I promised I would. Do you not think that I can keep my promises?"
Gangrel swiftly kissed her again, pulling her down to meet him. He then paused, pulling back when he remembered that Nisha was not used to him being so rough. She caught him off guard again when she dragged him back up to continue the kiss with an unusual force to her movements.
"Now what brought on this eagerness all of a sudden?" he asked her, his voice a little weak from surprise and pleasure.
"I missed you," she replied softly, sounding close to tears. "There were times...times when I thought that I wouldn't make it...where I was unable to keep fighting...but the thought of you gave me strength; the thought that I might never get to see you again hurt worse than anything the Fell Dragon could do to me."
"So the apparition...that was really you."
"Right after I finally managed to break free of the chain Grima had put on me. I tried to tell you, but you seemed so lost...that's when I knew I had to really get back."
The trickster gently traced his thumb across her cheek, stopping a tear that had slipped free of her damp lashes. Nisha leaned into his touch and Gangrel smiled contentedly, his other hand gently toying with her hair.
"I love you tactician."
"I know you do. And I love you too, my Mad King of Plegia."
There was a pause as they just took one another in, smiling without a single care in the world.
"So how long do you think the Princeling will let us be before he needs to rush you back to his palace and set the whole country celebrating again?" Gangrel dared to ask as the silence stretched long.
"No idea. But you had better get up here and kiss me again before he does."
"Yes ma'am."
And that's precisely what he did.
A/N: So I hope I gave you nice fuzzy feels! So here's the important part:
I do have a plotline that could continue this fic, but I am unsure if this story has outlived its welcome in the fandom, seeing as Awakening is now a few years old. I also don't want this to become a far-too-long series that just never ends (that's incredibly frustrating to both read and write, I know). So I am leaving it up to the audience. THERE IS A SURVEY ON MY PROFILE. Please pick whichever option you desire for the destiny of this story. I will be back at the end of November to see the results and everything will just move on from there. Thank you for your feedback!
~Dem0nLight