The following night Corrin snuck out again, the cause of her sleeplessness was much more obvious. Last night she had returned as dawn crept along the horizon, which meant there was a good chance Xander would be up too as a result of their time-keeping mishap.
Regardless, the sleepless night had been well worth it.
She was enthralled by the thought of sparring with him again tonight. He helped her sharpen her technique tenfold in a single night, reminding her how capable a warrior he was. But more importantly their swordplay had revealed what dwelled in his heart, unadulterated emotion inscribed in every swing of his sword. Relief and reassurance had dwelled in each thud of their colliding weapons, more informal and open than he had ever allowed things to be between them. The entire battle was spent grinning and making jokes at each other's expense, as equals rather than protector and protected. She was still laughing about the uncharacteristic smirk that had crossed his face during their third match. It had mirrored the one that curved her own lips when she gained the upperhand mere moments ago, only to lose it again to his capable hands. Or the laughter that had flowed from his lips when she dodged too sharply to the left. She fell to the floor in a heap of giggles, shocked when he joined in with his tenor equivalent. The sound was as smooth as the water that flowed in rivulets down the castle fountains, light and charming as it intertwined with her own.
Absorbed as they were in relearning each other's company the only indications of the passing time were the adamant rays of sunlight like greedy fingers, dancing across their blades until a soft glow filled every corner of the room. Turning sharply at the sudden invasion, they both stared at the horizon with a disbelief that quickly became grudging acceptance before they looked to each other again. With an awed shake of his head Xander sheathed his sword, as if perturbed by his ability to get so carried away. He then suggested, in a quiet voice that was as responsible and firm as ever, that they return to their respective rooms to get some degree of sleep and prepare for the next day.
She had been concerned about his acute reticence after their battle against Iago at the Bottomless Canyon, something about his demeanor mechanic and unlike him. She knew he behaved differently in public, and with the royals of Hoshido present no less, compared to when he was alone with his family. Yet she still sensed an unease that was not associated with his normal anxieties. The space and privacy she tried to allot him as a result seemed to be ineffective in improving his mental state, contrary to what she hoped it seemed to make his severe expression set in deeper. She was glad she had been able to relieve him of it in the end, even if it was only for a few hours during their time together. She hoped he would continue to let her share his company, learning more about him and figuring out ways to support him just as he supported her. She wanted him to be able to feel the same comfort and peace that she did when he vowed to remain by her side, when he promised that she would never have to live in isolation again.
This time when she entered the training grounds, it only took about two steps inside to hear the smashing sound of a wooden sword colliding with its target with excessive force. She winced as the sharp clang grated her sensitive ears, rubbing along the pointed cartilage absently to relieve the internal pain as she sighed. She knew that sound all too well.
When she was younger and would watch Xander train at night, admittedly while she should have been asleep, his movements usually reflected his general disposition: controlled, calculated, and sure. Along with the feeling of his unwavering protection, it was the rhythmic nature of his smooth strikes that soothed her to sleep. But there were rare nights when the flat line of his mouth became steely, curling into a near snarl as he lashed out at the target. He would be everything other than calm and composed as a fury the likes of which she had never seen would possess his limbs. Frustration, injustice, distress, powerlessness...all of it would culminate until he couldn't internalize it any longer, the result explosive.
At first the intensity of his violence frightened her, but then she would watch him closely and find traces of the boy she knew in his crestfallen eyes and steady hands. It wasn't long before she understood that this normally followed an argument with his father, or that this was the only way he could display vulnerability without being punished or ridiculed. Over the years, his siblings tried to share the burden with him after reaching the same conclusion, but he always refused to inflict the darker parts of his duty as Crown Prince on them.
In those days she always wanted to climb out the window and down the nearby tree until she reached the spot where he stood to ask him what was wrong, to talk with him late into the hours of the night until he didn't feel so miserable or conflicted. She wanted to hug his despair away the same way he took the time to comfort her before she fell asleep. When he would squeeze her hand and help her plan her future freedom, promising to show her the world as soon as he possibly could. But she had known then that any action out of turn, on her part or his, would have caused him further trouble with their father. And there was no guarantee that he even wanted her consolation. Maybe he didn't want somebody to confide in. Perhaps he cherished what little time he had alone to cope with his feelings. Therefore she would simply sit and watch, tears streaking down the window pane as she wondered if it was his freedom rather than her own that needed to come first, before he fell apart at the seams.
Shaking her head to disperse her gloomy recollections, she braced herself with the knowledge that they were not children anymore, and that they had all the power in the world to help each other. Taking a deep breath, she headed towards the training room where she could hear his rapid breathing, the scent of clean sweat and metal permeating the air as he attacked the dummy in front of him.
"At it again, Xander? Don't you ever sleep?" She kept her tone light. She didn't want to make him feel like he had to spill his guts if he wasn't so inclined.
He ceased his thrusts, sighed, and turned to her, a small smile overtaking his fatigued scowl before she could register its existence on his lips. "If I train while my enemies are sleeping, I shall always have the advantage." He teased as if he were reciting an ancient proverb, crossing his arms as he took the moment to rest, each shallow exhalation lengthening and easing.
She was heartened by his silent acceptance of her proximity. "Mind if I join in? I had a great time training with you the other day."
He inclined his head graciously, inviting her to retrieve a wooden sword herself. "I am always happy to have such a capable fighter aid me in my practice."
Ignoring the flush that arose at the earnest compliment, she took one of the wooden swords from the rack and began. Silence fell between them as they struck and parried, dodged and twisted, but there was something brittle about the nature of this match. The sense of assuagement had disappeared, leaving in its wake an overt emotional distance that was as uncomfortable as it was disappointing. She didn't want him to feel like he had to conceal his dismay in her presence, just as he did around everyone else. From his carefully schooled expression to the muscles in his arm tensing as he deliberately held back, it was clear that he was withdrawing again, even from her. She began to scold herself at the sight. She knew she shouldn't have interrupted his attempts at catharsis, forcing him to humor her request despite clear indications that he needed and wanted to be alone. There was a reason why nobody else had dared to approach the training grounds in the last few hours. She was still surprised the practice dummies weren't screaming bloody murder, or Leo was at the racket.
"Is something the matter? I understand if you'd prefer to be alone right now..." She blurted, her eyes looking to his to reassure him that it was more than okay to want her gone.
He seemed startled, removed from another train of thought before shaking his head vehemently at the suggestion that she had intruded upon his moment. But then, he could simply be accommodating her wishes. He had a tendency to place the needs of others above his own. "Oh no, not at all. I was just thinking about what you said the other day."
She didn't like where this was headed. Was he annoyed at her childhood habit of watching him train? "What about it?" She asked, worrying her lip.
His eyes lingered on her involuntary reaction before he continued, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. "Exactly how much sleep did I cause you to lose because of my training? Thinking back, I recall how hard it was to get you up in the morning. Am I to blame?"
She released the breath she didn't know she had been holding before she chuckled. Of course he was worried about her wellbeing, she should have known better than to think he would be irritated with her for something so insignificant.
"Don't be silly. It's true I stayed up to watch, but it actually helped me sleep. Some people need to hear the ocean waves to lull themselves to sleep... I need to hear your powerful blade slicing through the night air. It's soothing. I know it sounds ridiculous, but watching you train always made me feel safe." She assured, letting the memories overtake her for a short moment as she remembered the peace he had given her in that empty place.
The sight of her serene reminiscing made him smile more naturally this time, a hint of his childhood shyness creeping into the corners of his mouth. "Truly? Well, I suppose if that's the case I shall forgive us both." He resumed their practice but the lines between his brows, the ones that she always wanted to smooth over with the careful stroke of her thumb, lingered. His body still thrummed from afar with unexpended, agitated energy trapped just beneath the skin. It wasn't the question he had wanted to ask.
She allowed him to collect his thoughts before she tried again, determined to help him feel better. Empowered adults, she reminded herself, you can help him this time.
"Um, Xander? Is something else on your mind? You look troubled."
This time he stopped all together and abandoned his crouched position, standing with his sword hanging limp at his side. "Am I such an open book to you?" He grimaced, ashamed of himself for wavering in his composure. As a result, he had caused sweet Corrin unnecessary concern on his behalf.
Her eyes glowed like a scorching flame, illuminating the truth with all the ease of the sun as she explained in a soft voice that lacked accusation. "You're swinging your sword so fiercely today, with a wild look in your eyes. It's the same look you always had on nights when you and Father would argue." Was that...regret that colored her tone? He couldn't fathom why.
Nonetheless he sighed and abandoned his efforts to conceal his inner turmoil. He had been thinking about his asinine behavior this last year, ignoring what Corrin had to say and her efforts to protect both of her families with the truth. Meanwhile he had remained loyal to a deranged king content to slaughter them all, unable to accept that his father was beyond saving. He had called her a traitor, attacked her troops, and abandoned her when she had needed him most. Every time he recalled his offenses it left a sour taste in his mouth. He had betrayed Corrin for his duty to a corrupt nation in shambles. Corrin, who never doubted his judgement and had the utmost faith in his abilities. Corrin, who wanted everyone to live in contentment and peace. Corrin, who had made it her duty, despite all he had done, to soothe him, even now.
He settled for the only things he could manage on such short notice, a half-truth and the reassurance necessary to keep her from worrying about him. He gazed at her with wisdom granted by weariness before his expression eased around a tender smile he never knew he only revealed to her. "You're too clever for your own good, Corrin. I have much on my mind, but I have no regrets about the decisions I've made. Like you, I am proceeding down the path I believe in, no matter the consequences."
Understanding dawned on her features before she gave a solemn nod. She looked as though she wanted to ask further but thought better of it, knowing how difficult it was for him to confide in someone. She didn't want to destroy his progress. "Oh, so that's it. Sorry, maybe I shouldn't have asked. It's just so nice to hear what's on your mind instead of wondering from afar." She explained, hoping that her sincere desire to know what was on his mind would help him feel less guilty about speaking up.
"Worry not, little princess. I have enjoyed our discourse as well. But the hour is getting late. Let's finish up so we can rest for tomorrow's endeavors." He needed time to think about their conversation, and they both needed sleep.
"Okay. This time I'm going to beat you!" She challenged, lunging at him as he hurried to defend himself, a carefree chuckle following his parry at the sight of her exuberance.
After he won their little match, much to her dismay, she pouted as she headed to the exit with Xander following close behind.
"That was a lucky shot, and you know it!" She accused as she waited for him to catch up, her eyes narrowing to slits.
He rolled his. "If targeting your blind spot is lucky, then I must be a remarkably lucky man." And for the first time, as he watched her shake her head with a grin, he truly felt he was.
Her rebuttal was a wounded gasp, followed by someone sticking out her very pink tongue at him before she fell into step beside him.
When they neared the threshold to the exit she turned, her expression more grave than he had ever seen it. He raised a brow and was about to ask if she was going to trap him there for eternity with a Freeze spell before she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close as she pressed her face into his neck. He could distinctly feel her body warming his armor, her exhalations skating across his throat and her fingers tangling in the flaxen locks at the base of his neck. It made him remember the times she demanded he sit down in front of her mirror and let her brush the unruly strands. Following that instance, he often did the same for her own unruly white hair the color of starlight. He remembered how upset Jakob had been to lose that privilege, his language terse and sharp for an entire year whenever Xander had addressed him.
"Thank you for trusting me, Xander. I'm always here for you, whenever you need me. Just say the word."
Trapped for eternity suddenly didn't seem like such a terrible fate after all. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around her small waist before squeezing her tightly to him, lifting her a good half foot off the ground. She let out a delighted giggle and he spun her around a bit, grinning at the euphoria and peals of bell-like laughter that escaped her lips before he set her down. He didn't know how but something about their time apart had made her impossibly even more beautiful, engaging, and astute. And yet, her presence was unmistakably familiar, a pacifying balm.
She was her own woman now, he supposed.
As they crossed the threshold of the exit she squeezed his hand one last time with a smile before she darted off to her treehouse, leaving him to collect his thoughts.
He had underestimated her ability and desire to understand him better than even he understood himself. As he retreated to his own residence in the fort, he couldn't help but wonder if he should begin confiding in someone for a change. To find someone with whom he could ease the heaviness of his heart, share his doubts, seek solace and solutions...all of the things he had long deprived himself by remaining silent. Perhaps the time for omission and protection was long since over.
Perhaps it was time to let her in.