For all y'all celebrating Valentine's Day with someone special, yay for you! For the rest of us, let's have some fluff, extra fluff, with a side of fluff. People celebrating, you can have some too.
Your Me
Lucina awoke to the sounds of rain gently pattering against her window. She stirred, looking around...
How had she gotten back into her room? The last thing she remembered was waiting in the hallway. She faintly recalled the scent of dust, smoke, Robin...
And the memory of being carried, tucked into bed, and hearing the door close. Her pillow smelled nice...
She'd wanted to talk to him about that girl, Morgan. That was her excuse; in reality she just didn't want to be alone. But getting carried to bed was not part of the plan, and her face burned at the prospect of him taking care of her like she was a child.
She was thinking about him again and shook her head. Sleepy or no, he shouldn't be the first thing she thought about when she woke up.
Lucina hadn't anticipated her feelings to subside. She knew that conversation they had before entering Mila spelled out a long and painful journey with him, of being close to something she would never possess. She accepted the truth alongside the guilt. The truth was that the more time she spent here, the less real her own time became… Like a terrible dream she'd lived her whole life in, and had only recently awoken to breathe air that didn't smell of death, and see colors that she'd never known existed. With every passing day blossomed the desire to remain here, live a normal life, with a normal man… Or a semi-normal man. Her conviction had been found wanting, in the face of her rampant affections.
Distractions.
She turned her attention to the pain of knowing she would never know that happiness. Welcome penance, for harboring such sinful feelings. How many dozens, hundreds, had died so that she could be where she was now. Awaking to a feather bed, sound of rain, whimsical thoughts of love dancing through her imagination like a romantic fairy tale.
How was that fair? That she should live while so many others…
She looked to the fabric in her hand. It was different than the blanket around her. She looked down to see a familiar dark cloak clutched between her fingers. Her mind blanked, wondering why Robin's cloak was in her bed. She sat up looking around, when a clouded memory surfaced.
She grasped as he laid her down, fingers taking hold of his sleeve. She slipped onto her soft bed but refused to let go. He gently tugged, twice, before sighing.
She blinked, staring at his sleeve. Her cheeks warmed at the thought of him tucking her in, how silly it was that he'd been forced to give up his cloak, and a smile tugged at her lips, previous thoughts of survivor's guilt fading away. It was just like him, to bring her back from the edge of despair. Even when he wasn't around, he reminded her to focus on happier things. She glanced around, raising the sleeve towards her nose.
This wasn't strange. She knew his scent, she was simply… Confirming it was his. But even before it reached her she frowned. It smelled like her pillow. Had he slept in her bed? That was far too bold of him, to assume she'd allow‒
The door slid open and Lucina threw the cloak across the room.
"Lucina? You still in bed?"
"R-Robin?!" Lucina stared as he entered, closed the door behind him and looked her over. "Get out of my room, I'm not dressed!"
"Keep the blanket on." He raised a bemused eyebrow, nearing to sit by her covered legs. "You've been sleeping in a lot, you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You shouldn't lie to your husband. You have that 'I've been brooding dramatically' face on."
"I don't even know how that face would look like." She glanced away before catching his raised eyebrow. "And stop saying we're married. People will start believing that. Why are you so energetic today?"
"Could be the great night's sleep I had! The cuddling, the spooning, the sweet nothingness you whispered in my ear‒"
"Why are you here?"
"Because you have a mission," Robin announced, pointing at her nose. She swatted him away. "And because it's my room."
She blinked. The smell of the pillow. The cloak. She physically felt her face heat as he watched her with concern.
"Lucina? Do you have a fever?"
"N-no!" She swatted at his hand again when he reached for her forehead, "Why did you bring me here?"
"I thought it'd be weirder to leave you in the hall."
"I have a room!"
"Then why didn't you sleep there?"
Her mouth opened and her face froze, beet red. He faced the wall.
"And I slept on the floor so… Don't be mad, okay?" Robin's voice softened, searching for approval. "It's just, with everything that happened yesterday… I wanted you close."
Lucina's embarrassment shifted from accusatory shame to self consciousness. They'd shared sleeping space before. She was overreacting, when all he'd done was worry about her. He chanced a glance in her direction and she averted her eyes.
Rain fell outside, overcast sky visible through the window.
"What's the mission?"
He brightened. "Two person team, reconnaissance. Lunch reservations at a lovely little cafe in the city square. You'll be looking for recent developments in occupied-Chon'sin designer fashions and cultural attire to camouflage an infiltration unit going deep into enemy territory to collect intel while also enjoying a meal with meee?"
She looked up at the change in intonation, seeing his nervous expression. She raised an eyebrow, catching onto the implication.
"The infiltration unit is going to enjoy a meal with you?"
"You know what I mean," Robin replied, giving her a look as she feigned ignorance.
"You're certain this is… Just a mission?" she asked, looking him over suspiciously.
"Just a mission."
"No… Ulterior motivations?"
"Strictly professional. I just need your eyes and ears and hair."
"It's not a date," she stated.
"It's not a date," he affirmed.
"Are you lying?"
"Yes," he admitted immediately. "We do in fact have a shortage of hands around here, but saying that's why I'm asking you would be taking advantage of the situation."
She sighed, ruffling her hair. That was a valid enough excuse for her to accept his invitation. Mission. His mission he was… Offering her.
"I'll get dressed," she motioned for him to move so she could swing her legs over and stand. She stretched, sleeping tunic rising slightly.
He stood, looking around. "Have you seen my cloak...?"
"N-no," she answered quickly, glancing in its direction and spotting his gaze travel up her bare legs. "And turn around. And then get out."
He blushed, visibly embarrassed he'd been caught, and moved to the door before pausing. "Sorry. I didn't mean to stare."
She knew she'd spoken out of reaction, not preference. Privately she enjoyed his attention. The idea she could make his thoughts racing a thousand meters a second grind to a halt at the sight of her… Excited her.
'Stop. Stop thinking right now.' She cleared her throat.
"It's fine."
"So I can keep‒?"
"No, get out."
Robin knocked on the door frame with a grin before half turning, "Oh, and Say'ri's awake."
Lucina paced around the planning table in the basement. Say'ri was indeed awake, and swamped by healers poking and prodding, subordinates asking for direction, and wellwishers. Lucina decided to wait her turn, walking around the table to view the various maps with Robin's signature scribbles.
The one nearest his chair caught her eye, alongside a registry of local restaurants. Many were crossed out, footnotes of "poor reviews," "lacks atmosphere," and "no," accompanying the circles on the map. They were otherwise tactically sound observational locations. She smiled faintly.
She turned at the sound of his footsteps.
"You say hi to Say'ri? Get confirmation that yesterday wasn't your fault?"
Lucina looked back, seeing Say'ri only entertaining two healers at the moment. It might be the only chance she'd get today.
"Feh, enough! I did not break an arm or a toe or suffer any other kind of injury. You can see where I was hurt."
Say'ri looked up from the healer testing her ankle rotation as Lucina approached. Before Lucina could manage an apology Say'ri raised a hand.
"If you are about to apologize for my inability to disarm a child, I will not hear it," Say'ri spoke sternly, contrasting with her warm eyes.
"I don't know what happened, you shouldn't have been harmed," Lucina explained, shaking her head in confusion.
"I don't need tales of magic heirlooms to be impressed by your house. I should have treated it as any other weapon ‒ the fault is my own." Say'ri smiled in a way that implied all had been forgiven, "And for your safety, assume it will be sharp next time you encounter it as well."
"I… Yes," Lucina conceded, not knowing how to explain what happened and deciding Say'ri's suggestion was probably safest from now on.
"Lucina?" Robin called.
Say'ri looked at him, then her. "He's been pacing all morning. He looks much happier now."
Lucina closed her mouth at Say'ri's raised eyebrows. She matched her smile and squeezed Say'ri's hand before departing.
The silence of the empty throne room was shattered as a side door slammed open against the wall, impressive entry dampened as the pudgy man had to waddle across the entire length of floor to the stairs and stare angrily up to the throne.
"We can't have the festival now, this city is crawling with resistance!"
"I was not told of any festival," Walhart spoke slowly, turning his head slightly.
"The insufferable child is in the kitchens, preparing food when she should be…" Excellus struggled to find words, "Strategizing!"
Walhart seemed to consider the situation for a moment, before rising from the throne and making his way down the stairs. "Then we shall ask her."
When they arrived at the kitchens they found Morgan alone before the stove holding a basket of eggs.
"Morning Walhart!" she greeted bubbly, ignoring Excellus.
"Morgan."
"Child, what do you think you're doing passing legislation giving the city the right to celebrate?" Excellus huffed, brandishing a city flyer proclaiming the annual festival was to be held tomorrow.
"I don't remember passing legislation. I think the Chon'sin representative asked if his people could do the thing they did every year before we came in, and I said 'okay.'"
"Without consulting me‒?!"
"Especially without consulting you."
"The resistance strikes at our home," Excellus counted a fat finger, "our supply of ballistics," another finger, "in a single night, and now you give everyone in the city a night of," he consulted the flyer and his face contorted, "Wearing masks, and having free reign of the castle? This time tomorrow there won't be a castle!"
"First of all, this time tomorrow would be about noon, so if something were to happen at the festival it still wouldn't be for another few hours, so Excellus is wrong as usual," Morgan began, breaking an egg into a bowl, "B, the masks are optional, which means the guards will have orders to pay extra attention to the people not wearing masks."
She caught onto Excellus' dumbfounded expression and rolled her eyes, "If someone's going to do something secret, they'll wear a mask, and guards know to watch for people wearing masks, right? But these guys are smart, and while everyone else is wearing masks they'll be doing their thing out in the open, looking like regular people. So we put the word out to watch for regular, maskless people. And D, only the people with invitations get into the castle."
"Because it's so hard to get their hands on an invitation!" Excellus seethed sarcastically.
"Not this year. I lost count of how many invitations I sent out."
"Why!?"
Morgan broke another egg, spotting some shell in the bowl. She showed it to Walhart.
"See the bit of shell stuck in the egg white? I could spend the next ten minutes chasing it around with my finger trying to trap it, but it'll slip away easy because it's in there, and I'm out here. But I take this other bit of egg here," she took the rest of the now empty shell, bringing the jagged edge right under the floating piece and fishing it out instantly, "and it doesn't know the difference."
He blinked. "I fail to understand the comparison."
"Yeah I actually just wanted to show off this cool thing I discovered about eggs ‒ neat right? Really just gets it right out…" She glanced up to see Walhart's expression unchanged, and cleared her throat. "Anyway, there's no way the resistance leader will miss an inside glimpse of our inner workings. I'm gonna infiltrate the infiltrators, and we'll have them like a… bit of eggshell caught by a bigger piece of eggshell."
One edge of Walhart's lips pulled into a grimace. "Do you know the difference between the bold and the foolish?"
"I'm bold, and he's foolish?"
"Who wins." Walhart turned, finding his way to the door. "Do not lose. I have no use for fools."
Robin stuck his head out of the "booth." It was a booth in a traditional restaurant sense, though here that meant a private room complete with sliding door that separated their table from the rest of the restaurant. It almost gave a sense of seclusion if not for the wall opposite being a second-story window that overlooked the city square. An interesting contradiction of privacy.
"Sumimasen!"
A waiter appeared almost instantly, notepad at the ready.
"Gochumonwa...?"
"Er…" Robin blinked, then nodded, "Yakisobawo...hutatsu to… Ohiya. Kudasai." He pointed between himself and Lucina but the waiter was already leaving, shouting something to the kitchen staff.
"You've learned the language?" Lucina asked, staring at him in a mixture of amazement and confusion as he closed the door and moved back to slide his legs under the table into the sunken floor.
"No. Think I fooled him though. Let's see what he brings us."
"Probably whatever you ordered."
"This will be exciting then!"
"So how is this reconnaissance, exactly?" Lucina asked, changing the subject back to their purpose for being here. It felt a little strange some resistance were sleeping outside on rooftop posts, others were lying injured at headquarters, while they were enjoying a rainy day.
"Well, this may surprise you, but I'm actually bad at fashion," Robin confessed, glancing to her then the open window, "and I'm attending a ball tomorrow‒"
"You're what?"
"Bad at fashion. And I'm attending a ball tomorrow, at the castle. And I must dress appropriately, or I will stand out, get caught, and probably be executed."
He looked at her. She blinked, shaking her head at him.
"You're what?"
"Bad at fashion. Honestly Lucina this conversation is going to take four times longer if you can't accept‒"
"You're going alone?"
"Well it's a pretty stupid risk, why endanger more people?"
"Do you even know how to conduct yourself among… High society?"
He picked up the complimentary tea, sticking his pinky out with a haughty air and arching an eyebrow at her impressively.
"I'm coming with you."
"Wha‒ c'mon I practiced that…!" Robin shook his head, "Anyway you can't come. It'll be dangerous."
"And telling me to stay while you go is entirely selfish!"
"Yes."
"Robin!"
"Lucina!"
"Robin." Her voice lowered to let him know she was serious, "You don't decide what risks I take."
"I'm the tactician. That's exactly what I do."
"I'm not your soldier, I'm your partner," she stated, eyes meeting his evenly. "And I'm coming with you."
Neither blinked for several seconds before he sighed.
"If I asked you not to come, for me‒?"
She folded her arms, interrupting him with the simple gesture and he fell quiet looking out the window. Rain slid past the glass in sheets. After almost a minute he spoke, eyes not seeing anything past the water. His mouth pulled into a crooked smile.
"Y'know I actually slept terribly last night. It's kind of one or the other, I don't sleep for days because I'm busy or I'm out like a rock, but I can't think of the last time I've tossed and turned." He glanced at her, shrugging, "You'd think all the things we'd seen, suffering, war, the undead, some of those things might keep me awake. Scare me a bit."
Lucina stared at him as he took a deep breath and rested a fist on the table, looking at the wall behind her.
"Last night I was scared. And I'm going to hell for this, but when I heard something happened to Say'ri, all I could do was thank the gods that it wasn't you. The idea that I put you in a situation where someone got hurt, and it could have been you, because I underestimated our enemy…" He rubbed red, wet eyes, "That kept me up."
Lucina's brow relaxed, arms unfolding. She looked to his hand resting on the table, within reach, but consciously held hers in her lap. Her fingers laced to keep her hands from wandering as he continued.
"A tactician who can't objectively view assets as pieces to move around a board isn't a great tactician, and I've accepted that. But please, please don't ask me to put you where the danger is. If anything happened, no amount of intel uncovered would be worth it. Winning this war, wouldn't be worth it."
His eyes met hers briefly before he looked to his clasped hands.
Lucina's expression shifted to sympathy. He sincerely wanted to protect her, keep her from all this. How little he understood every time he confessed his true feelings, it only made it more painful for her to distance herself. He was everything she could ever want in a man, with pleasant surprises added every day. Were only her heart free to be given to him, she would choose him a hundred times across a hundred timelines.
The desire to be his, and call him hers, grew with every passing hour, and she had to force her mind onto the pain. Turn it towards the darkness she would feel, were she forced to take his life…
She realized how she sounded, how he would mock her if she spoke those words aloud. How focusing on the negative created a shell around her feelings that made anything that didn't match her underwhelming expectations a pleasant surprise, and that this mentality created an entirely miserable outlook on life.
She knew this, and that she needed it. If she didn't, she would flip this entire damn table through the window just to throw herself in his arms, and if the day came when ruin was upon them, she would never be strong enough to do what needed to be done.
Lucina exhaled, her own hands resting on the table.
"When I heard about the warehouse… And when you weren't back, I wished more than anything that I had gone with you. Because I knew you would be safe as long as I had breath in my body. The idea of you falling because I wasn't there was unbearable, I… Was scared, too. Worse even than with the bandits in the mountains, at least then I could see you, and know you were alive. Not knowing, hearing every footstep entering the hall and not seeing your face, and fearing every soldier that approached was going to be the one to tell me…"
Robin was watching her now. She shook her head, taking a shuddering breath with a small smile.
"You're not going to subject me to that for a whole evening, are you?"
Robin saw her open palms, and moved his hands forward.
"I guess that's a little unreasonable. Even for me."
Lucina hadn't even realized she'd subconsciously offered them until his warm hands rested in hers. The rush she felt overpowered any semblance of guilt. Her heart pounded hard in her chest as she looked across the table at him, taking in his nervous smile, soft eyes, and feeling resolve waver. How could someone focus on the negative, when these feelings were so much better?
"Lucina…?"
Her mouth opened, words forming on her tongue before her mind had even processed them, when the door opened suddenly. They separated like the other had been electrified.
The waiter beamed at them, oblivious as he set the tray down, removed his shoes, sat inside the room, closed the door, deposited each dish before them, and reversed the procedure for his exit.
"That was remarkably quick," Robin noted, thumbing after him. "We could learn a thing about expediting the meal-making at restaurants back home."
He took in her resolute expression. "So I guess we're going to a ball tomorrow."
She nodded. "I have an eye for fashion. Once inside, I will be nearby should anything happen. It's the logical choice."
"Alright Miss Fashion, let's do some recon and see if we can't spot some middle ground. Thinking between 'I was invited to this exclusive party,' and 'My country's currently being ravaged by war,'" Robin suggested, using his hands as scales. She followed his gaze out the window. The rain had let up, allowing them to make out the pedestrians walking the square below them. "Point to an outfit you like."
"That one." Lucina pointed, drawn to the bright color.
"Bold. I could see it on you," Robin replied thoughtfully.
"Or that one," she said, pointing out another flash of color.
"I'm seeing a pattern here…"
The rain picked up again and they turned their attention to their meals, eating in silence. It was comfortable, simply being in each other's company.
Robin grinned to himself, thinking about an observation Chrom once had. "The truest sign of friendship is being able…"
"...to sit in silence, and not be uncomfortable." Lucina thought to herself, smiling at one of her earliest lessons.
A part of her wanted to talk. This was a rare lull in the whirlwind adventure that had been the last few weeks with him, and for all she knew this meal would end with them jumping through the window to escape pursuers or some-such. Sitting down to have a meal with him, alone like this seemed almost… Normal. Like they were a simple couple getting to know one another.
So, what did she want to know about him? What did normal people talk about?
Robin felt her gaze and faced her. She appeared surprised but spoke quickly.
"When this war is over, what will you do?"
"I hope the world will be sick of war by that point, which will put me out of a job. I guess I could paint houses, or something," Robin mused, pushing a noodle around his plate before brightening, "What about you? Will you return to live in the castle for the rest of your life? How's it going to be, living alongside little-you running around?"
Lucina opened her mouth, remembering her conversation with Say'ri the other day, and her private thoughts that followed. What she wanted to do didn't outweigh fate.
"I will try to find a way to return to my time, if I'm able," Lucina answered simply, eyes lost in the window as she gave voice to the thought she never wanted to consider. She liked it here. But she didn't belong, it wasn't the time she was meant for.
"What? No, don't do that."
She looked over to see Robin staring at her with an expression of panic as if she might up and disappear on the spot, and he cleared his throat. "I-I mean, this is your time. That other place, yeah you were born there, but home is where you choose, right? So… Choose here."
"I don't belong here," she began patiently, sighing before he interrupted her.
"Yes you do. If you want to. And I don't know why you wouldn't want to, that other time sounds terrible. You could start again here, a new life."
"I would like that, but I have to try‒"
"Says who? Don't go." Robin avoided her questioning gaze now. "People would miss you."
Lucina smiled faintly, touched by his break in composure. The reality was that she didn't fully understand what would happen when her future was averted. She didn't even know if she'd still…
"I want to travel, when this journey is over. See the world and experience new things. You could… You should come with me."
Lucina looked to see him watching her for a reaction, waiting for an answer. In truth that sounded wonderful, and the more she thought of continuing her adventures with him the more her heart told her that's exactly what she wanted… But...
"I'll consider it," she answered truthfully, and his smile widened.
The darkening clouds indicated the sun was setting over the high walls in the distance, yawn filling the air as Cynthia withdrew from the window. She swung her arms back and forth, clapping in front of her as she paced the hotel room she shared with Tharja who sat in the corner, curled in an armchair with a book.
"I'm bored," she announced through the open door to the shared neighboring room.
"You're not leaving the hotel," Severa appeared in the doorway, glaring at her, "We barely made it past the gates because of you."
"We're here to look for Lucina, right? So why aren't we doing that?"
"Because Gerome has a plan that doesn't involve you karate-chopping every Valmese soldier you see."
Cynthia rolled her eyes with a sigh, raising her voice, "Gerome Gerome Gerome…"
"I-I don't sound like that!" Severa snapped.
"You really do," Tharja muttered under her breath, raising eyebrows at her book.
"Gerome, oh Gerome," Cynthia called to the ceiling, knowing full well the boys were staying on the floor above, "When will you return my affections?!"
"Sh-shut up!" Severa lunged at her, but Cynthia danced out of reach, standing on the bed to cup her mouth towards the ceiling.
"I hope Gerome-sempai notices me today…"
"Why are you doing this?!"
"Because I'm tired of you guys! I need a break, and I'm stuck in a room with you pining over some guy who's totes-obvs-in love with someone else!"
Tharja's eyes stopped moving across the page. Cynthia lowered her arms, looking down to survey the damage done.
Severa's fists shook at her sides, temple pulsing.
A minute later Gerome was standing in the hall, knocking on the door. He thought he'd heard his name being called and hoped it was Inigo returning from his mission, but a second later the crash of furniture imposed the idea the women were under attack.
He shouldered into the room to see it positively destroyed. Severa had a nosebleed and Cynthia in a headlock as Tharja turned a page.
"What… Are you doing?" he asked, striding forward to separate the two but Severa was already straightening, wiping her nose hurriedly.
"We were just arguing," Severa muttered abashedly, avoiding his eyes.
"About?" He turned to Cynthia.
Cynthia looked over as Severa shot her the most woeful expression, full of silent begging. She sighed.
"About why we can't go out there and help look for Lucina," she said finally, looking up at him.
"Because this city is huge, and you're not finding anyone without the right contacts," Inigo answered from the doorway behind Gerome. "I like what you've done with the place."
"And did you find the right contacts?" Gerome asked, turning his attention to him.
"If by 'the right contacts,' you mean‒..." he caught Gerome's souring expression and cleared his throat, "No."
"Useless," Gerome growled, turning towards the window.
"Hold up, I didn't say I found nothing," Inigo produced a flyer from his pocket and held it out, "There's some big shiny shindig tomorrow, and dignitaries will be celebrating it up at the castle."
"Thank you, that will certainly take my mind off relevant matters," Gerome responded darkly, not turning from the rain.
"Hey, jackass," Inigo let the paper fall and folded his arms, "I spent all day getting this info, because I want to find my sister as badly as you do. Robin's a strategist, Lucina's a princess. You really think there's a chance either-if-not-both of them won't be at this thing?"
Gerome turned to him. He looked to the flyer upside down.
"Invitation only," he read aloud.
"And there's a thief right upstairs, jimmying all the locks on the floor while the big one works out."
Gerome took a deep breath, looking him over and nodding as he passed.
"You're welcome," Inigo called over his shoulder. Gerome paused by the door, and departed.
"What about this?"
Lucina appeared from behind the curtain, arms stiff at her sides. She wasn't accustomed to dresses, they were inconducive to movement and utterly defenseless. Frankly she didn't understand the notion either ‒ her usual attire was much more modest than many of these that left the arms bare and sometimes the back entirely open.
"You look… Very unhappy," Robin observed, not even looking at the dress as he surveyed her expression.
"The patterns are so dull. How could anyone be happy wearing this?" she sighed, plucking at the hem.
"Alright, stop worrying about what you're 'supposed' to look like, and pick something you actually want to wear."
"Then why did we do reconnaissance on what was fashionable?"
"Because I like to spend time with you," he answered, holding out the hanger, "Now go change into the next one."
She closed the curtain, struggling to remove the dress without damaging it. The fabric was so fragile…
Her eyes traveled to the dress that had caught her eye earlier. It was certainly fashionable…
"You don't need an excuse," she called suddenly, stepping out of the dress and reaching for the new one. "To spend time with me. You can just ask."
She paused, waiting for his answer, heart audibly pounding in her ears. When none came she slowly started putting on the new dress.
"I'll do that next time."
Lucina smiled, carefully slipping her arms into the sleeves and pulling the dress higher. She already knew she loved it.
The curtain opened again and Robin finally looked below her expression, accepting her excitement and eyeing the dress up and down.
"That… Is the loudest dress I've ever seen."
"Is it too much?" her smile faltered, looking down.
True, the horizontal stripes of colors wasn't anything like she'd seen before, but that's what made it special. She didn't even know that some of these colors existed before she saw this dress. And the materials! This stripe was satin, another felt, running her hands across them all was a sensory delight. Where she came from, a world of grey and darkness, something this bright and beautiful would have been a banner. The Chon'sin style that revealed her shoulders and the slit that ran up one leg was admittedly much less conservative than what she'd usually wear, but with Robin she didn't feel uncomfortable.
"Who cares?"
She looked up to see him shrugging.
"You like it, and you're the one wearing it. Think that's all that matters with clothes, right?"
Lucina couldn't remember once in her life caring about her appearance, so her own next question caught her off guard.
"Do you like it?"
Robin met her eyes. He didn't look like he expected that question either. She didn't know why, but it mattered to her.
"On anyone else, or by itself, I don't know. But on you, it's perfect." He shrugged, "Though I'd probably say the same thing about your sleeping tunic, or your normal clothes, so I might be biased. Generally, though? Not a huge fan of dresses. They don't look very maneuverable, or‒"
"Defensible?"
"Exactly! But since we gotta infiltrate a party, I think that dress will do."
"It doesn't draw attention?" Lucina asked, realizing the dress was far too beautiful to be viewed lightly.
"The sun draws attention, but people don't stare too long. The same principle applies."
"Because it's too beautiful?"
"...Yeah."
Lucina nodded happily as she closed the curtain again. "Are we wearing masks?"
"Of course. Whoever orchestrated their defenses last night isn't an idiot. They'll be expecting us, and they think that we think that to outsmart them we won't wear masks."
HQ was buzzing when they returned, excitement palpable over the coming day now that many had received their orders. While some were concerned over the previous night's pyrrhic success, the idea that the Valmese were practically begging them to hit so many targets tomorrow was enough to make anyone set aside their worries.
Lon'qu stood near the long table, leaning on a crutch as Robin and Lucina approached.
"You're here, good," he announced, noting the boxes under their arms. "Successful mission?"
"We've harnessed the powers of celestial bodies," Robin answered, glancing to Lucina's box before standing beside the table. "The pieces are in place, everyone knows their job. When the Ylisseans arrive in a few days, the odds will be a bit more in our favor."
"We don't need intel on the castle," Lon'qu suggested, half-shrugging. "It's a needless risk going so deep into enemy territory."
"I need intel on the hand pulling the strings," Robin argued, "I don't want any surprises turning the tides day of the siege. And besides, who doesn't love a good infiltration."
"Feh," Lon'qu turned away, using his crutch to hobble towards the training ground. "Don't expect a rescue party."
Lucina turned to Robin as he glanced at her. "He's right though, it's a pretty big risk going in there. If you have second thoughts about coming..."
"I'm coming," she reaffirmed with a nod.
"Okay… Good." He smiled, and turned back to the map. His grin faltered, "Alright so this was already in the plan, but in the interest of transparency I feel like I should mention it now. To avoid drawing attention to the headquarters after the ball, I'd planned on using a safehouse starting tomorrow. Don't worry it's got a couple bedrooms, but it'd just be me… And you, I guess."
"How domestic."
He looked up to see her watching him with indifference. It didn't change anything.
"Alright, well I guess that's it for today then!" He scratched the back of his head and grinned at her, "Thanks for coming along."
She nodded, but hesitated before leaving the table. Don't be silly, your rooms are next door. You'll see him later.
She caught Lon'qu's eyes from across the room and he jerked his head, beckoning her over. When she arrived he pointed towards the sparring square where wooden weapons clacked.
"If you're not busy, these recruits could do with some proper training…" Lon'qu lifted the crutch. "I will translate."
"I'd be honored," Lucina replied, setting aside her box and taking a practice sword.
It was several hours into the night that the last round of recruits finished their training. She bid Lon'qu goodnight and went to bathe, noticing the long table in the middle of the room was empty. She'd looked over several times during the training to see him drawing diagrams in midair, pulling invisible memos from the sky to read to himself before bending over the maps and papers again. He must have just gone to bed.
When she returned to her room, clean and refreshed, the first thing she noticed was the cloak at the foot of her bed against the wall. She deposited Falchion and fetched the cloak, familiar scent meeting her nose. It was halfway to her face when she stopped herself and took a deep breath.
What was she doing? Ever since the hot spring she'd practically been skipping down the path she'd made a show of dragging her heels through. She'd been honest when she told him of fearing the day when she may be forced to take his life, but what power did hypotheticals have over seeing him every day; as he was, not the monster he may never be?
She'd been equally honest in that pool. Unexpectedly so. It hadn't even been a thought, it simply happened like the most natural reaction in the world to discovering he would live. Like it was meant to happen...
That wasn't like her. Few things over the last few weeks had been like her. She was changing ‒ softening.
Her guard was constantly lowered. She slept better. Trusted someone she once called foe. She'd be dead a dozen times over if she was this relaxed in her grim future.
She didn't know if she liked it. Peace was something she was supposed to secure for others, never had she imagined knowing its embrace. She felt out of place, always… Except when...
Lucina sat on the bed, holding the bundle close to her chest as rain fell outside.
Even thinking about him made her chest ache with a dull throb she'd never felt before. A pain that alleviated upon seeing him and returned full force when he wasn't there. When he was around her heart beat faster, and she wanted him to be around. The excitement he sent through her skin at the slightest brush, or the look he had in his eye when he watched her and thought she didn't see… She didn't want anyone else to have.
It was selfish, but she wanted… Him. She wanted him to be hers alone to cherish.
Lucina lay back on the bed, bringing the cloak to her face to smother her groan.
She felt childish even thinking that, but it was the truth. He was special to her, not because he'd saved her life or she his, but because of who he was. A fool at times, certainly, but a good man. Not nice, or polite, but good. Someone she could trust. Someone who cared for her...
The sinking feeling she'd been shouldering the last few days returned, and she slumped.
...How was this going to end? She'd been around long enough to know there were no happy endings, not in this lifetime. She knew that, because she knew exactly how this ended. Or rather, she could guess. There were only so many possibilities, yet the most likely one hadn't even been broached by her friends or family yet.
She'd hoped it would happen quietly, unaddressed. Maybe she couldn't be honest with her own feelings, but Robin had to know. This couldn't come as a surprise to him. He wanted to protect her, that much she believed.
Whether he felt the same yearning as she did, the desire to embrace her like she wanted more than anything this second, was irrelevant. She saw no reason that he should, given her past transgressions and generally depressing outlook on life, but the warmth in his eyes when he regarded her hinted otherwise. He had to know where their feelings would lead them. He'd earned that much.
She knew better than to fall in love, and she'd done it anyway. Perhaps there was still hope for him.
The cloth against her face smelled like comfort, and she took several calming breaths of it before deciding what she had to do.
The sun sank near the horizon, far across the plains of the border between Plegia and Ylisse, casting the battlefield in an orange glow that caught the armor and sprays of blood with its light.
High atop the fort, lightning arced from the jagged sword wielded by the lanky oversized jester-king, thunder booming with his cackle as Robin dove to the side to avoid the blast of energy. The stone wall shattered behind him, Chrom breaking cover to charge the Mad King Gangrel.
"Ooo, the prince wants to play?!"
Chrom shouted, bringing his weapon down on the Levin sword as Gangrel deflected the blow on the irregular edges and turned the tip towards the ground. Chrom's eyes widened and he threw himself back just as the ground below them exploded, showering them with rubble as the floor trembled and broke way.
"You're going to bring the tower down!" Chrom shouted, climbing to his feet, but Gangrel was too busy laughing.
"Are you afraid to die for a cause, Prince?" He shrugged with an insane grin, looking sidelong at him.
"No," Chrom answered, flourishing Falchion as he faced the king once more.
"Careful, Charming, if you strike me down, chalk up another Plegian leader killed by a Ylissean invader ‒ and there will never be peace between our countries," Gangrel sneered before lunging suddenly, stabbing with his weapon as lightning extended its range.
The extra length caught Chrom by surprise and he reeled, electricity contorting his muscles as he fell beside the open ground leading to the hundred-foot drop to the tower floor.
"Don't ‒ break ‒ the ice!" Gangrel giggled, stomping closer.
He'd just reached Chrom's vicinity where the floor was weakest when he was hit by a wall of fire.
Gangrel reeled away, ruffles still burning as he turned the Levin sword towards Robin who was caught mid-stride. Robin reflexively threw his sword forward to intercept the bolt of electricity. The lightning hit the hilt before discharging from the tip, shooting off at a low angle into a tower buttress which exploded, raining chunks of stone across the open roof.
The ground shook and everyone struggled to retain their footing as the support slid away, taking another section of floor with it. Gangrel danced onto the raised platform where a trebuchet might have once stood, on reinforced floors.
Chrom rose to his feet slowly, sound of cracking stone beneath him. He met Robin's eyes for a brief second and the tactician dove, half-second later the ground under the prince giving way.
Robin caught his forearm, dragging across the ground until his shoulder met the edge and he gasped, chest pressed to the cold stone as his free hand dug fingers into a crevice for holding.
"For such a skinny man, Chrom," Robin panted, trying to pull him up with one arm as bricks shattered against the stone far below, "You're incredibly heavy."
"Skip less PT, then complain," Chrom grunted, reaching for the edge with his free arm still holding Falchion before his eyes locked over Robin's shoulder, "Gangrel!"
Robin looked to his side and saw those ridiculous curled shoes, then up to see Gangrel leaning over, peering down at Chrom with a grin.
"Don't mind me, just watching!"
"Robin!"
"I'm not dropping you, Chrom!"
"You really should," Gangrel stepped back, walking to recover Robin's sword, "I'm going to kill you, and he's going to drop anyway."
"Robin, let go or we both die!"
"Then we both die!" Robin grunted, trying to lift him again in vain.
Gangrel cackled, arriving behind him and letting Robin's sword swing like a pendulum by the hilt over one ankle.
"Tick-tock!"
"Robin," Chrom called, actively struggling to free himself now, "I'm dead either way!"
Robin swore, looking around, eyes catching on the sections of exposed, rotted supports. The floor was breaking along the gaps between them. There was one on the other side of the hole Chrom dangled over, which meant Robin was probably lying across one right now. And Gangrel stood over one just behind him.
"Supports," Robin muttered, raising slightly to give Chrom momentum, and he saw comprehension in his friend's eye.
Steel cut across his calf and Robin grit his teeth, swinging Chrom under him as his friend swiped once with Falchion.
Robin couldn't look over his shoulder but he heard the sounds of crumbling stone and the short cry of surprise that preceded Gangrel's descent.
Chrom panted, throwing Falchion to the staircase leading up to the tower and using his now free hand to climb Robin's sleeve, then onto the ledge.
Ylissean horns sounded in the distance, and Chrom stood to look over the edge of the walls.
"We're winning," Chrom stated simply. He exhaled, lowering to sit on the ledge with his feet hanging free.
"Should we go help?" Robin asked, wrapping his pant leg tightly around his wound and moving beside him.
"Sure. Figure out a way down." Chrom glanced behind them, nodding to the open space that separated them from the stairs. He held his side and took a hesitant breath with a wince, "Besides, they seem to be wrapping up."
They were quiet for a minute, watching the sun set in the far distance.
"It's over, then," Robin muttered, and Chrom adjusted slightly to make room on the wall for Robin to sit.
Chrom glanced back to the broken floor, now cast in shadow by what remained of the wall beside them.
"It's over." His gaze rested on Robin, "Thanks."
"Yeah."
"If I'd fallen‒"
"It would have been because I was dead."
"If I fell before you died, you'd have killed him, right?"
"That should probably be the story we tell," Robin said, looking to him, "He's right, we can't say you killed him. After the last war..."
"He lost his footing and fell, neither of us killed him," Chrom stated, sharing a look with Robin before turning back to the plains cast in dark orange. "But if… You would have killed him, right?"
"I'd have thought of something," Robin answered noncommittally, and Chrom chuckled.
"I'm in no rush, but one of these days I'm curious to see a cause you'd kill for."
"The corner booth, getting out of jury-duty, that board game about the money‒"
"Alright smart ass," Chrom interrupted, rolling his eyes.
They were quiet another minute until Chrom broke the silence again.
"I think I'm gonna ask her to marry me."
Robin looked over to see his friend staring wistfully out over the field, wind ruffling his hair.
"Like… Forever?"
"That's usually how marriage works."
"So you're breaking up with me."
"Pretty much."
"Knew it wouldn't last," Robin sighed, grinning as he surveyed the troops beginning to organize below them. "You've only ever had eyes for her since we met."
"Thanks for understanding," Chrom replied, smiling too.
"Alright seriously though, you sure? I mean we've known her for like… Two weeks. What if her hobbies are taxidermy and betting on bum-fights?"
"She's a dancer, she hails from Regna Ferox, she's painfully shy and is the most gentle soul I've ever met."
"Besides me."
"Besides you. And I don't know, it feels crazy to have known someone for such a short time and yet… It just feels right. When you meet the right person, you just know, y'know?"
"No."
"Well, it won't matter if she ends up refusing my proposal. But… I think I love her." Chrom frowned as the realization set over him.
Robin looked at him, eyebrow raised before he shrugged.
"I'm sure you'll have beautiful babies. Name one after me?"
"Not gonna happen."
"Robin can be a girl's name!"
"Robin is only a girl's name," Chrom muttered, shaking his head.
"Wow."
"Got em."
"Here I am tryna have a serious conversation," Robin sighed, looking around. "But seriously, how are we getting down?"
The gaps in the floor made it actually impossible to reach the stairs. In fact they were sitting on an island of floor supported by a single beam, empty space surrounding them two meters in any direction.
"It'll all work out," Chrom spoke calmly, watching as the sun finally disappeared behind the horizon, casting the world in shade.
Robin opened his eyes. Rain pattered against his window, streams of water rolling past the glass illuminated by the lanterns outside casting wavy shadows across his torso and the wall he sat against.
He wondered if that was true. Did anyone really just "know" when they met that person they wanted to spend the rest of their life with? Forever was a long time. Yet Chrom and Olivia seemed happy together. Not that they had much to be unhappy about, they were both lovely people with morals and unrealistic levels of sex appeal.
Love wasn't just a word they threw around, they meant it. Chrom meant it when he realized it that day. How did he know?
Robin dug into the memory again, watching his friend's face, the look in his eye, the contentment the realization brought him. That peace, of knowing. Chrom knew Olivia for less than a month before deciding he wanted to spend forever with her.
Robin had known Lucina for a little longer than that, but their relationship had changed drastically during that time from openly hostile, to…
He wasn't sure now. He cared for her more deeply than he thought it was possible to care about anything. Her life meant more to him than this entire war ‒ and that was a problem. He was a tactician, he couldn't put one person's life above the mission. But he did, and he'd be damned if he didn't.
His idle thoughts always circled around to her, ever since that night at the Mila tree when they agreed they could be allies. Since then it seemed all he wanted was more.
Catching her scent as she passed, her voice, her inner fire; he wondered if he provoked responses from her as some roundabout way of searching for more. More time, more words. He admired everything about her. He loved everything about her.
He couldn't explain his outburst at lunch earlier, the sheer rejection of the idea that Lucina would go back to her world was sudden and unexpected. But he didn't want her to leave, they were just getting to really know each other and...
Footsteps in the hall interrupted his train of thought and he looked up to the door as the steps stopped. He heard an audible inhale.
The door opened and light steps paused in the doorway.
"I... found your cloak."
Her hesitant voice was a recent development, and he found it as adorable as the rest of her.
He watched as she set it on his desk, noting her sleeping tunic and missing tiara. She was ready for bed. "Thank you, but you could have done it in the morning. You didn't have to walk it down the hall."
"I couldn't sleep." She shrugged, averting her eyes.
Lucina moved against the wall beside him, hands behind her waist. The room was silent for a couple seconds before she took a deep breath.
"Can we talk?"
Robin stiffened as she slid down the wall beside him, arms around herself. Historically speaking, few conversations that started with Can we talk? ended well.
"O-of course. What's on your mind?"
"Something I haven't… Told anyone about. But I need you to know."
Robin's interest was piqued, and he looked over to see her staring across the room, fingers tightening on her arms. "You can tell me anything. Unless you eat babies. You don't, right? If you do don't tell me."
"I don't pretend to fully understand time travel," Lucina began, ignoring him. "But… If we avert the future I came from, if the conditions that made me, me, ceased to exist… I believe I will also cease to exist."
He blinked. "That's nonsense, you're right here! Time can't just, wisp you away…?"
"We're working to prevent my time from ever coming to pass. If it never comes to pass, I would never go back in time, and I wouldn't be here."
"But you are here."
"Because we haven't changed it yet. Once this war is over, and the time I came from never happens..."
Robin was quiet for a moment, but for all his logic and knowledge, he didn't know time travel any more than she did. But surely her being present here was enough, how could she simply stop being? Her scent was real. Her warmth beside him was real.
"I don't want you to go," he spoke quietly, humor failing him.
"You might not even remember it. The moment it happens… Me, all memory of me, everything would simply stop."
"I remember everything," Robin smirked, looking at her now. "You think I would let myself forget you?"
"I hope you do," she answered, watery eyes locked on the other side of the room. "Because if you disappeared, and I remembered everything… I don't know what I would do. And I could never do that to you."
"Hey, hey," Robin uttered, lifting an arm to bring it around her. She allowed him to pull her into his shoulder, resting her head on his chest. "No one is disappearing. You don't belong to that time, you belong here, with your father, and your mother, and your friends, and your… Me."
She looked up at him, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "I'm scared. I've never been scared like this before."
Robin grimaced. Time on a battlefield taught him there was no such thing as fearlessness. There were people who were brave, and there were people who had nothing to lose. And it was easy to be brave when you didn't have a family or a future.
Suddenly Lucina had everything to live for, and the very goal they strived for may be the thing that stripped it all away. He didn't blame her for being scared, because he was terrified.
He took her hands in his, arm around her holding her tight. "I am never letting you go, okay? Not Naga, or Grima, or Time itself is going to take you away from this world."
Why was she telling him this now, so close to the end of their journey? The realization sank in just as she took a shuddering breath.
"I'm telling you this… So you know why you can't fall in love with me. It isn't fair to you, and in the end…"
Her breath caught and her shoulders wracked, and he pulled her tight with both arms. She let herself be held, let him see her cry as long as she needed. He would be the only man she would ever be this vulnerable with.
He rested his chin on top of her head, rocking her gently. He chuckled, "We are definitely not playing the odds."
"No," she hiccuped, caught by surprise at his words and laughing into his chest. "We are not."
"Most people just have to figure out who's handling the chores, what they want for dinner…"
"I just want… To be around you, with the time I have," Lucina confessed, taking fistfuls of his shirt. "I can't ask for more than that."
"When we both survive this war…" Robin narrowed his eyes, counting on his fingers, "And I don't become Grima… And you're still around… And Chrom doesn't kill me..."
"... I will ask for more than that," she admitted, smiling.
He grinned, never wanting this moment to end. She did care for him, as much as he did for her. The future was uncertain, but it always was. For now, this was all he cared about.
At his chest, her smile faded slightly. It was just like him to make her feel better when she was at her worst, yet reality still hung over them. The reality that, one way or another… All this would end.
Then the arms around her tightened, and she reminded herself what reality truly was. Everyone dies, be it today or decades from now. What mattered was the moment… And in this moment… She'd never been happier.
Robin felt the hands on his chest slide around to his back, hugging him.
"...Thank you, Robin. For everything."
He rested the side of his head on the top of hers, and gave her another squeeze in response.
Within minutes he could hear her breathing even out, and felt her limp in his arms.
He carefully sat them up, moving around to pick her up gently and carry her to the bed. Her long hair brushed his legs and he lowered her into the blankets, bundling them around her, making sure she was warm and tucked. He rose, until her grasping fingers found his shirt. He didn't have his cloak to spare this time.
Robin swallowed, remembering her reaction this morning when she thought they'd shared a bed. He was almost bent double, figuring he should just slip out of his shirt and be cold for the night, when the hand tugged insistently.
"L-Lucina…?"
The hand tugged again, but when he didn't budge the other appeared, pulling him down beside her.
Lucina rolled over to face him. Half-lidded dark blue eyes shimmered in the dark, meeting his gaze. She curled into her usual ball and rested her head against his chest.
"...Goodnight."
Robin relaxed, smiling. He draped an arm over her protectively as he stroked her hair.
"Sleep warm..."