Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s...so cold. Is this...snow?

Rise.

What?

Rise.

 As he always did without fail, Lon’qu rose with the sun, the harsh light of a cold Feroxi dawn pouring in through the window. Most mornings his mind lacked a single thought, as he went through his routine like a man possessed.

Or more accurately, a man with a hole in his chest where a beating heart once was.

He splashed some water on his face from the basin in the corner, which was kept cool by the natural frigidiness of the winter air. It did little to stir him, but it did clear his vision, so he could gaze cleanly upon the room around him, even though there really was nothing to see. A bed, a basin, a single dresser, a mainly unused, his boots, his sword...and a box. Locked, without a key.

Just as he had grabbed a boot to put on his right foot, there was a heavy knock on his door, catching his attention. He cleared his throat, “What is it?”

“Lon’qu!” Basilio? More knocking, more aggressive, fervent, “Open this damn door, boy!”

Obliging, the heavy wooden door swung open to reveal the tower of a man that was Basilio, panting heavily, like he had been running, “It’s...” he inhaled loudly, evening his breathing until he could be clearly understood, “It’s her. She’s back.”

There was the gentle thud of leather hitting the floor, followed by the thundering patter of bare feet running across cold stone.

In the grand hall, standing there, was...her. Same coat...same hair...same...

“Robin!”

The figure started, and slowly began to turn to look at him, and in place of the beautiful face he once cherished was an empty abyss without a trace of humanity, and a chill went up his spine so powerful that it roused him awake.

“I can’t believe it, it’s her!”

Who is that? I know that voice...Raimi?

“Pull her out the snow, damn it! I don’t know by what providence this happened, but we have to bring her back immediately, Gods know if she’s even still alive...”

Alive? I’m right here!

“She’s moved! Hurry! Pick her up now! Don’t worry, w---”

I can’t hear you anymore, Raimi...am I...

You are safe.

Safe?

You may rest now. You will see him soon. He is waiting for you.

Him? Who...

“You, run ahead! Sir Lon’qu must be informed of this!”

Basilio and Flavia almost broke down the front gates with their own hands when they heard the report from the soldier. If he had spoken true, then...

Raimi marched into the main hall, holding a half frozen tactician in her arms. Curiously, though clearly conscious and cold to the touch, she did not shiver. Flavia took a cautious step forward, like one might approach a ghost, “Robin, can you hear me? Robin?”

Robin blinked, turning her head sluggishly to look at the concerned woman. Behind her she could make out a the barking of an order, “Someone get some damn blankets and hot ale!”

“Flavia...Basilio...”

A warm hand was pressed against her forehead, and she slipped out of consciousness.

Lon’qu paced outside the doorway for what felt like an age, too afraid of what he would find inside that room. Basilio has assured, countless time, that this was real, she was back, his waiting was over, but could it be? Truly? Could she...

A noise came from inside, he burst in, no longer able to contain himself. Lying there, bundled under several layers of blankets illuminated by a roaring fire, was a living, breathing being, with a head topped with familiar hair.

“Robin?” his voice was no louder than a whisper, but they still stirred. He repeated himself, with more confidence, “Robin?”

“Hng, Lon...qu? Lon’qu?”

That voice, which sounded as sweet a pure honey, which was as healing as any balm, her voice .

“Robin? Robin!”

“Lon’qu?”

He could see her start to flip over, to face him, so he could gaze upon her once more. His dreams were finally about to...

...come true. His dreams, his nightmares. He couldn’t handle another. Not again. He was done. If he ran from this one then, maybe...

When Robin turned to the voice she knew so well, all there was a swinging door.

A week after being found (and after of plenty of hot soup and rest), Robin had returned to some sense of what she remembered as normalcy. Over dinners, the Khans filled her in on the political landscape since her...disappearance, as well as any information on specific comrades they were able to get ahold of. Turns out, she had been gone for two whole years. In that time, Chrom’s second child had been born, war reparations were going better than expected, and most of the future children had left with nary a word to their parents, including Morgan.

Hesitantly optimistic, she asked “What did he say? Before he left?”

“We don’t know,” was the answered she received from Basilio, “He left a letter, but it said not to open it until you, erm, deigned to come visit.”

Robin looked at the mug of hot tea in her hands, her unsteady reflection looking back up at her, “Where is the letter now?”

“Lon’qu has it. And considering the state he’s been in,” Flavia looked over in the direction of his quarters, “I don’t think you’ll be getting it anytime soon.”

Sighing, Robin put down her cup, unable to stomach ignoring the issue any further, “About that. Why won’t he speak to me? I’ve seen him around but he does his best to not have his body face my direction, worse than when we first met. I thought maybe he needed time to process, but it’s been a week...”

“I couldn’t tell you, lass. I’ve known that boy since he was knee height and I’ve never seen him act that way around even the most forward of women. Or anyone.”

“I haven’t either,” she said, making her hands into tight fists and then releasing them, “I heard, a voice, telling me that ‘he’ is waiting for me. It must have meant Lon’qu, but...”

Flavia looked pensive for a moment, “Maybe it meant Chrom? That offer to contact him still stands-”

“NO!” Robin jumped at her own volume, and then settled back into her chair, “No. I need to sort this out before I see Chrom. If I leave I feel like... he’ll shut me out forever. I appreciate your offer, and I appreciate you respecting my wishes not to do so even more,” sighing once again, as she had done much of since waking up, she took another sip of her tea and then stood, “I’m going to try again. I will see you both in the morning.”

She walked off in the direction of Lon’qu’s room, leaving the two behind to frown in concern.

One knock. Light and polite.

“Lon’qu?”

Silence.

Two knocks. More urgent.

Silence.

“Please? It’s been two years”

Silence.

Three knocks. Each more faint than the one before. “Please...”

She rested her forehead against the door, voice pleading and desperate, “Why are you so afraid of me? I know you, I know you shut people out when your scared. But never like this. Why are you so afraid of me? ” Tears threatened her eyes, and that same sadness seeped into her voice, “All I want is an answer, if you really want me gone so badly I can go-”

Her face almost hit the floor when the door opened, revealing Lon’qu’s tall form, shrouded in darkness, still not looking at her.

But letting her in.

Cautiously, she put one foot forward, then another, and another, until she stood squarely in the center of the unlit room. No words were spoken, and of course, no looks were shared. But finally, in that one moment, it was welcomed. At least her let her in...

Silently, he walked back over to his bed and laid down, back to her, and slept, or at least convincingly feigned it, as she knew he was not able to fall asleep without effort like that. If she were bolder, she would have followed him, curled up beside him and nestled into that broad, warm back, but she wasn’t. She was a coward who wasn’t going to push her luck. Unsure of her the best course of action (so befitting of a tactician who strategies brought two wars to an end), she removed her coat, laid it on the ground, and lied down.

If this was to be a war of attrition, so be it.

He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. He could hear every small shift and movement she made, every breath she took, so acutely it was like she had never left.

...it was the wind, nothing more.

(His window was not open.)

The next morning, Robin awoke to a room devoid of another soul, and a blanket draped over her.

That day’s midday meal held a surprise for everyone involved when Lon’qu sat down at the table to join them. For the past week, he had simply taken his plate from the kitchen and eaten in his room or the training grounds, but now, he sat with Basilio, Flavia, and others of high rank...directly across from Robin.

And he did not look up once.

This was how the next week dragged on. Robin would sleep on his floor (which slowly accumulated a small cot, thick woolen blanket, and straw pillow) in silence, and Lon’qu would slowly start to reintegrate himself into life at the Fort, all the while treating her like a ghost haunting the halls rather than his living, breathing wife. He would let her touch him in any way she saw fit, she could grab his face and force him to look at her and he would shut his eyes.

She’d take one step forward, and he’d take two steps back.

Her anger and frustration and sadness bubbled and boiled under her skin like the raging lava of the Demon’s Ingle. He knew she was there, he had felt her, heard her, but had not seen her!

She threw the book she had been attempting to read across the room. It landed with an aggressive thud, the pages fluttering before slamming shut with another loud noise. The East Feroxi Khan’s office’s selection of books was not the most vast, but it was the most secluded spot she could find. When Flavia did set aside a moment to read, it was with her men in the public library. It was here that Robin would fully express her woes.

“Why! Why why why!” she sobbed, wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her jacket, “Why! We had decided to become each other’s new family! For almost three whole years we were by each other’s side! And now he treats me like I’m dead!”

Like an extinguished flame, after releasing her smoke she calmed, rubbing at her reddened eyes. For the longest time, her intelligence was all that she had found valuable about herself. If she could do nothing else, she would use her tactics to curry favor and survive. But her friends and comrades, Lon’qu more than any of them, had helped her feel at home, like she had a place even without being a tactician.

...if her mind should fail her, she’d follow her emotions.

She got up from her chair, and walked towards that same room with the heavy footsteps of one with purpose.

When she arrived at his room, he wasn’t there. It was midmorning, so of course he’d be practicing. Afraid she’d lose heart if she wandered around looking for where exactly he was on the expansive Feroxi training grounds, she decided to go in and wait for him.

Shockingly, it was unlocked. So unlike him, who so valued privacy.

Regardless, upon entering, she found the room in an uncharacteristic state of disarray. Clothing was strewn about the floor, papers were scattered across the desk, and his bed had been unmade in a chaotic manner. He was usually so meticulously orderly, she remembered that she would leave their chambers in Castle Ylisse a mess, and would come back to him polishing his blade in a neatly organized, almost unrecognizable room.

...now was not the time for nostalgia. What could have possessed him to do this? Was he looking for something?

Curious, she looked around the room herself, and a middling sized wooden lockbox, which appeared to be very old, had caught her eye. It was so unassuming in nature that she hadn’t even noticed it over the course of her stay, but...he was probably looking for the key to it. He was a man of few worldly possessions, so what else could it be?

If he couldn’t find the key in the place he had lived for so long, her chances were even slimmer, but her need to know started to outweigh her reason. He was shutting her out so powerfully, so deliberately, that she needed something , some small piece of him for herself. Cursing her decision, with a heavy and guilty heart, she lifted it above her head, and smashed it onto the ground.

Panic filled Lon’qu’s veins. He needed that key. After that first year, he had decided that those feelings were best buried deep to never be seen again, but now he needed...he had to...

Remembering where it was, he ran as fast as his legs could take him.

Flinching at the noise, Robin kneeled down to carefully sift through the debris. There were only two things inside.

A well thumbed through leather bound journal, and a yellowing letter that read “For Mother’s Eyes Only”.

When he arrived, he need not search long, as the tome lay on the floor. Thick with an eye catching blue cover, A Treatise of Valmese Tactics . Who could have been...? With even more adrenaline pumping through him, he flipped to the back cover to see the key he had put there years ago, still bound by wax. Completely untouched.

Mother,

I’m sorry I had to go. I wish I could stay with Father, but I know I’m just hurting him more, since I remind him of you. He dreams of you every night. He won’t admit it to anyone, because he wants to be strong and stoic like always for when you get back. But he’s in pain. Grandpa Basilio and Aunt Flavia talk about it all the time when he’s not in the room.

When you get back, give him some time, okay? He’s doing his best not to shut down completely. Be proud of him for making it all the way until you get back! I promise it will be worth it. I don’t think there’s ever been a man who loves someone as much as Father loves you. Even if he doesn’t know how to show it well.

I’ll miss you both.

Love, Morgan

Robin’s hands shook as she read the last words she had of her son. She always felt like he had wisdom beyond his years, and this is a clear demonstration of that emotional maturity at play.

(Even if there were year old dried tear spots on the page.)

He was right. It hurt, but even if things never went back to how they were, she would always have that love that her family felt for her. Even if he never looked her way again, and she left to live a new life...she would not lose the memories she had made.

After lingering a moment on the letter, she turned to the journal. Already at peace with her breach of privacy, she opened it. Lon’qu’s handwriting was messy and uneven, as always. She remembered teaching him, how cute he had look focused so intently on this new pursuit... it was what was written that was a surprise.

Another dream. Morgan said to start writing them down. This time, she was with me when I woke up. I could almost feel her beside me. But when I turned to look at her, she vanished into smoke.

Flipping page after page, a horrifying realization dawned on her. Each entry followed an eerily similar pattern.  She would appear and then... so why he won’t look at her was...

Breathing heavily, for the first time in two years and two weeks, he laid eyes upon her.

And she didn’t disappear.

Chapter Text

“You finally looked at me...” Robin said breathlessly, too shocked to even form a smile. Lon’qu said nothing, only stared. Lounging and lavishing in a sight he had been denied, by fate and by himself, for so long. He took slow, frightened steps towards her, as if he could be wrong any moment and she’s fizzle away yet again.

But she did not.

As he approached closer and closer, it started to sink in that he was not dreaming, or even if he was, it was finally not a nightmare.

“You’re real...”

“I’ve been real the whole time. Waiting for you.”

Without a second thought she lunged into his arms, and he returned the embrace as warmly and tightly as he could, and the faintest sound of his whimpering cries could be heard. She did him the courtesy of pretending not to notice.

“I won’t ever let you go again... I won’t hide anymore. You were the only person who ever made me feel whole, feel real. And I did this to you. I’m a dishonorable cur who you shouldn’t even look at.”

She smiled and pulled away just enough to cup his face in her hands and wipe away the tears, “You are no such thing. I went and disappeared for two years, leaving my family behind,” she kissed his nose, “Let us both put that all behind us.”

His smiles were always usually small and only noticeable to those who knew him well, but now he grinned from ear to ear, before nuzzling into her shoulder, “Can we stay here? I want to make it all up to you...”

She pat his head, squeezing him tightly, “Of course. I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

That night as they cuddled in bed, still unable to part from one another, Robin mused aloud, “I’ve been alive for two whole weeks without telling Lissa. I think she’ll put a thousand frogs in my coat in retribution.”

In another country, a sleeping princess got an idea.