The next chapters won't be friendly...I need to do lots of heavy censoring aha...I may have to send you to whitearrow on ao3, for the uncut version. Thank you for reading!

The two were locked in a steely glare. It was as though they were on opposite ends of a battlefield; weapons raised and ready to defend themselves in an instant. Needless to say, their tension was so palpable, one could only cut it with a weapon like Falchion.

It was a deadlock; who would speak first?

"I-"
"We-"

They both opened their mouths in unison, and averted their gazes from the other with a scowl on each face. Perhaps they should try again. Frederick cleared his throat and gestured for her to go ahead.

"I-No, first I want to ask, why are you here?"

"Do I not have the liberty to go where I please? Or perhaps I should report to you about my every movement?" The bite was still strong in his words, but at present she had no energy for any bark. She sighed and situated herself atop of a crate, trying to best think how to go about this. She had gone over a thousand options for this situation...but now that she was here, she didn't know what to do. And here he was, already being overly defensive...as always.

"Frederick, please. Not now."

"I came to see what you were up to...of course you were traipsing around during ungodly hours with that thief again."

"He has a name," she grumbled, and crossed her arms. "What if I started referring to you as 'stick-up-his-ass'?"

He cracked a wry smile at this. "So you don't refer to me as that already? Should I consider myself lucky?" His joke lifted the atmosphere considerably and he was treated to her peals of laughter; gods, he hadn't been on the receiving end of something so wonderfully pleasant for what felt like ages. He'd long passed denying that there were certain feelings inside that he couldn't deny; he could only run from them and hope to forget.

Or that was the plan.

He saw them sneak out once again, and they'd seemed closer by the day. But he was baffled. Was she enamored with the prince, the thief, or him? "What are you up to?"

She blinked at him. "Well, it certainly isn't what you're thinking...Naga knows your imagination runs wild these days," Robin said nonchalantly and bounced her leg with her words. That...was not helping. That was not helping at all. He had to focus. What he had to focus on he truthfully didn't know, but he had to keep a calm mind regardless.

"Then what are you doing every night?"

"...Recon," Robin shrugged and kept bouncing her legs, now at an even rhythm. "Just doing my part, you know."

"Your part," he emphasized, "is to be tactician, here at camp and on the battlefield. Not lurking in shadows and dealing with goodness knows what."

"Maybe you just really want to keep me to yourself. Locked away in your tent, and doing goodness knows what...shady business." Her gaze was away from him, but the way her fingers just happened to run up and down her thigh...she knew what she was doing to him. It felt like an invitation for him, wrapped up and waiting for him to open. His pants begun to form a tent around his crotch, and he had to casually turn around. Perhaps they should finish their business here quickly.

"Please," he struggled to steady his voice. "Do not project your fantasies on to me, milady."

"No? Then why oh why, did you kiss me? Why do you get so angry when I talk to any other male, men who treat me well, whereas all you do is cast suspicion on me day after day. I as much cannot use the latrine without you getting hot and bothered about where I am." Her words were...incredibly provocative. She was meek at first, but suddenly she's becoming her true self. Prepared for a fight, or to get whatever she wants. Gods damn him if he gives it to her...the satisfaction of messing him up. "Look at me, Frederick." Damn it she knew, she knew of his issue...He pulled out his shirt to cover his front and turned back to face her, and her infuriatingly smug smirk.

"Robin..." He had intonations of a warning, but the woman ignored him easily.

"And then you'll ignore me. But then you take many, many pains to disguise the fact that you're helping me. What is it that you want? What's on my chest? What's between my legs?" Her motions continued, and his eyes were shameless drawn to them. How they pulled, taut between her thighs as she graced her body on whatever fortunate crate of vegetables lay under her bottom. But she...she was absolutely vulgar, and Frederick had no patience. Not when he had a horribly jealous streak going on...he couldn't face her until then.

"Robin!" With three long strides he had her arms gripped in his hands, and pulled her off of her seat with such force, a pot with leftovers from dinner spilled over beside them.

He jerked her up in a manner that their lips had almost met; their bodies were pressed so that he knew that she could feel that but he didn't care and neither did she, it appeared, although he'd finally managed to paint a blush on to her cheeks. Her eyebrows furrowed immediately, and he'd finally caught her off guard, for once. "You will not speak to me that way."

"Oh, as if you've treated me with respect," she spat out, and stomped on his foot. He flinched, and only pressed her back to the canvas. "You're so damn mean, but you decide to be nice sometimes and it confuses me! It would confuse anyone! You make me tea, you take care of me, you almost fucking died to save my life, and you won't even let me help your leg! Never have I met anyone so obstinate as you!"

He laughed bitterly. "Have you perchance looked in a mirror? Perhaps I should procure one." He glared down at her, and especially at that thing around her neck, and a growl escaped from his throat before he could stop it.

"And you...you hate when I wear this and you...you...you kissed me! Why did you do that? You can't just kiss people and not tell them why! Stop being a coward!" She was goading him...she was goading him into saying something he would regret, but gods damn it all he would not be called a coward and take it lying down.

"Why? Did you want more? Are you sad it was over, all too soon? Milady, you're more lustful than I expected."

"You're not the first person to call me a whore you know," she said, and broke eye contact when tears welled up. He felt an incredibly painful stab of guilt; he'd not implied that at all and yet...yet she has been exposed to something he couldn't protect her from. He felt angry, angry that he couldn't. And so he directed that at her.

"I didn't say that at all, and you know it. You...you're not a loose woman. Even if you have violated me," he sniffed haughtily, and she snorted. He left the first incident...that time she dared to kiss his cheek. No woman had dared such a bold act and yet she had claimed him as her own. Ridiculous.

"Oh shut up, you kissed me and just dumped me outside. And you know what, maybe you are right. Maybe I do want you to kiss me and do unspeakable things, cause i can't stop thinking about you. When you took your shirt off I was looking, sorry."

This time he was agape. Goodness, he forgot just how direct this woman could be, if she set her mind to it. "Robin..."

"No, you listen to me. I wanted to touch you, and I still want to touch you, and I know you want the same cause there's a bar of iron stabbing my thigh right now. Just from jiggling my legs, might I add."

There was a weighty silence. Their chests heaved in unison, and they were both disheveled. Her hair was barely tied, and she looked so breathless he wanted to take her right then and there. Truthfully, he was being plagued by the same problem. He was consumed by thoughts of her. He wanted her to himself, he wanted her to smile for him, he wanted her to look for him and be worried about him. He wanted to kiss her...he wanted to kiss her... His mouth ghosted over hers, and slowly their breaths mixed together...their mouths were open, and their lips skirted over the other in a cruel taunt.

"You want me to kiss you?," he breathed as her tongue earnestly made its way to his mouth. "You want me to touch you?" His hands went to her bottom and elicited a squeak when he cupped it in his hands. "Very well...so long as you understand this..." He couldn't tell her just what he wanted her to know...she leaned up and yanked him by his hair...her tongue slid across his teeth and they moaned in what he could only call a beautiful chorus. The taste of her saliva was intoxicating, and he had to push her back to clarify just what was going to happen between them.

She pouted and tried to capture another kiss from him, but he used all his manpower to utter his next, heartbreaking set of words. "A man and woman in close proximity for so long, put into dangerous situations may...may have urges like this. That doesn't mean anything. This is just to relieve that, understood? Then it's-"

"Back to normal," she groaned impatiently and rubbed her crotch against his. "I get it." The part of him that was greedy could feel a tinge of sadness in her words. Sadness, anger, but most of all, impatience. He was denying her what they both wanted, what they both needed, to be frank.

"Will you forgive me in the morning?" He asked her, and clutched on to her hand as though it were a lifesaver. He felt he was soiling her, just by interlacing their fingers together. While his heart was still thrown into conflict, he was being allowed to do whatever he wished...this was never the outcome he had suspected would happen...but with a woman like her? Should he really have been surprised that she'd turned everything around on him? Never would he underestimate her charms again.

"That depends...if you'll ignore me all over again...I might just have to violate you again," she whispered with a cat-like look in her eyes. She bounded with him, and he tried to hush her; they would have to get back to his tent without being seen by a single soul. He used that as another excuse to hold her close to his side; because waiting to touch her until they were alone was too much a herculean task for him to achieve. It was too much to ask for...After being put through the wringer...he could have this much.

As for tomorrow...he'd think about that later. Right now...was going to be the most memorable night the knight had ever lived. He could afford to be self-indulgent for once. And he was no brute; he'd return every favor with an extra present...

He'd leave her sore and raw until she could speak no more.

Oh, how his mouth watered.

"Frederick, we need to take care of that iron rod."

"Will you quit calling it that?"

"But it's massive!"