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To Chrom's defense, it had started innocently.
After the nightmare that had been Emmeryn's death and the gruelling battles that followed, he had developed a painful strain in his shoulders and back, one that worsened his insomnia--and in turn, the lack of sleep was making his muscles ache all the more. Standing in public, bending over strategy tables had become torture, and he had been on the verge of asking Lissa to try and use staves on it when, one day, as he was trying to find a position to write without bending over his desk, something dug into the muscles of his shoulders.
He yelped and tried to stand up, but the desk was over his legs, and somehow his chair would not move, as if blocked by a huge weight. Before he could cry for help, however, the pressure on his shoulders shifted, kneading a line into his muscles, and he found himself whimpering as a knot of tension sprung--and melted.
He froze. The hands on his shoulders kept working, pulling and pressing until his sore, tense muscles evened out. He tried to turn his head, but the hands were already working at his neck, and he gave up on the idea, too scared to miss on the relief that was spreading through most of his body.
He had almost fallen asleep when the massage abruptly stopped, and in the time it took him to realise and blink himself awake, whoever had been taking care of him had disappeared into thin air. If they hadn't been air to begin with.
That night, he slept like he hadn't in months.
"Hm, that could have been Kellam," Robin said when he confessed the event to her, one late evening as they were enjoying the luruxies of peace--in this case, allowing themselves a few glasses of wine. "He's been helping me too, sliding me cups of tea while I'm working and disappearing before I can realise he's been there." She grinned. "Learning to see him has taken some work."
"But why wouldn't he tell me about it?"
"He's self conscious about it, I think? It's rather ironic--he tries to be discreet, but ends up scaring people with it; he wants to be noticed, but still slides into the shadows when trying to help people. I'm not sure I make sense of him." She took a sip of her drink. "It's just the way he is, I think."
"I should thank him." He sighed. "It really did feel good."
Robin looked at him in silence, then smiled behind her glass, finishing it.
"You do that."
Try as he might, no amount of looking for Kellam bore any fruit. He'd be there for training, sure enough, but every time Chrom tried to take him aside at the end of a training session or a meeting, Kellam would be gone. But calling out to him in public would be awkward, especially if Robin's suspicions had been wrong, and so he kept to his discreet attempts, until he finally gave up, about two weeks later.
He'd been ready to forget about the whole thing when he fell asleep as his desk one night, and woke up to a blanket on his back and hands working his shoulders into blissful relaxation.
Before his mystery benefactor could spirit away, he called out:
"Kellam?"
The hands on his shoulders stopped, and he heard a drawn in breath.
"I--yes--I'm sorry, my Lord, I didn't mean to wake you up--"
"It's fine. I just wanted to make sure--it was you who massaged me the other day, wasn't it?"
There was a pause, and then Kellam's voice answered.
"Yes. I came in to ask you about supplies, but you seemed in so much pain... I wanted to ease it a little."
"Well, it definitely helped." He paused, then turned, forcing his eyes to shut down the part of his brain that assumed Kellam being there was so normal it should be ignored. It worked. He looked Kellam in the eyes and smiled. "Thank you, Kellam."
For a moment, Kellam was silent. When he finally spoke, his voice was more quiet than usual, but unusually serious and devoid of the hesitation that usually came with it.
"You're welcome, my lord." And finally, he smiled a little. "Not a lot of people do."
Chrom resisted the urge to tilt his head in confusion, just raising his eyebrows instead.
"Do what?"
"Care to thank me. Though to be fair, I'm not sure many people notice."
"Do you want them to notice you?"
"Yes... I don't know. Most of the time."
Chrom pondered the question, regularly making sure his eyes weren't unfocusing when looking at Kellam.
"... I can't change everyone else... but I'd hate to think that I'm ignoring you. If I haven't noticed you and you want my attention, you can put your hand on my shoulder and call my name, all right? I'll do my best to pay attention when it happens."
"You don't have to--"
"I want to." He smiled a little, to attenuate the firm tone he'd just used. "You matter as much as everyone else, Kellam. And I'd hate to think I'm missing out on time with you."
A strange expression came to Kellam's face, something serious, thoughtful, and not altogether different to the one Robin sometimes wore as she bent over maps.
"I'll remember that." He paused. "Do I have permission to keep taking care of you from the shadows too?"
"If it makes you feel comfortable, then yes. Although," he added with a smile, "I can't guarantee I won't start noticing you even if you do."
Kellam smiled in response.
"I would be happy if you do."
In the weeks that followed, he became accustomed to the little details that betrayed Kellam's presence and care. The items he'd been looking for that made their way to his desk when he came back from training. The ripped clothes that were mended before he had time to take care of them. And slowly, he began to see more accurately, too. Maybe he didn't catch sight of Kellam every time when he brought tea, but he did notice when it got there almost instantly, and made sure to thank him every time, knowing for sure Kellam was still around. And sometimes that's all there was, but sometimes Kellam would answer, and they would actually talk face to face.
Sometimes, too, when Chrom was particularly stressed or tired, Kellam would massage his shoulders again. Or it was just the shoulders at first, but the more time went by, the more Kellam's hands stopped restricting themselves to those specific muscles and worked his entire body into blissful relaxation. Further down his back, along his arms. Sometimes, he would even press on Chrom's head to lower it against the desk, and by then Chrom was too trusting and comfortable to even try to resist, just enjoying the feeling of being boneless and taken care of.
He came out of those sessions looking happy and often a little dazed, and thought he caught Robin smirking at him once or twice.
So when in the middle of a long and frustrating strategy meeting (there had been some movements around Plegia, and while it was nothing like an actual army, some of the towns close to the border were getting agitated), he felt hands press into his shoulders, Chrom failed to find anything wrong with the situation.
It was still strange to realise that no one actually noticed, now that he'd gotten used to paying attention to Kellam, but he figured people were so used to seeing him hover around Chrom by now that they didn't think to watch what he was doing specifically.
They didn't notice when Chrom sighed with relaxation, or when Kellam's hands started going down his back.
Nor when they made their way to his ass.
Chrom almost yelped, though. Cordelia was reading out loud the statement made by one of the towns' mayor, and he hadn't been talking, thankfully, or his voice would have betrayed him. He just blushed instead, and tried not to move away from the hand--or, if he was totally honest, not to move into it either.
"If this is too forward, my Lord," Kellam whispered in his ear, "you can pick up the roll of parchment in front of you. Or say my name in any way, even a casual mention."
Chrom nodded... and realised that just this addition, this confirmation that Kellam cared about his comfort and participation instantly made him feel safer. But it also made his blood run faster--by not using either signal, by agreeing to it, he was participating. And his friends were still around him, unaware.
He suddenly understood Kellam's ambivalence about his own conditional invisibility a lot better.
He let out a deep sigh to calm himself, and somehow managed to look more or less convincingly innocent when Maribelle looked his way. Convincing enough that she reported her attention to Cordelia, anyway.
As soon as the threat had passes, Kellam's hand went to work again, massaging his rear and occasionally rubbing thumbs into his hips just above. It was both arousing and deliciously relaxing, and if he was completely honest with himself, he wanted nothing more than to let himself melt on the spot. But there were things a leader couldn't do, especially not in front of others, so he just resolved to hold on through it, even if he had to bite his lip to do so.
The attention went on as Cordelia finished her letter and she and Sumia started discussing whether sending in a squad of pegasi would make the villagers feel safer. Chrom listened to the conversation as best as he could, then finally decided he should relieve them of the weight of actually making the decision (though they mostly seemed to agree) and cleared his throat a little.
His voice felt raspy. He wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to talk, much less do so convincingly. So with just a hint of regret, he fidgeted with the rolled up parchment on the corner of the table.
Kellam's hands stopped, instead just giving him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before leaving entirely.
He almost missed them. Maybe he could talk to him about leaving them on his shoulders next time (was he really considering a next time?)
"I think it's a good idea," he managed to say after another slight cough. "They could double as a scouting party of sorts, with the field of vision they have from the air."
Cordelia smiled and started figuring out logistics with Robin, and Chrom sighed in relief.
Before Kellam's presence left his back, he heard his voice in his ear, whispering:
"I'll have tea ready in your room, my Lord."