Chapter Text
Twilight stirs his coffee absentmindedly, the sound of metal scraping against ceramic distinctly absent as the black liquid follows the teaspoon in its circular motion, whirling into a small vortex in the center. He supposes that that wasn’t entirely accurate. He wasn’t Twilight at this moment, but Loid, the father of the Forger household – father to Anya Forger and husband to Yor Briar – his assumed identity for Operation Strix.
Years had passed since he had taken up the mantle of Loid Forger. Thirteen in the coming spring. He’s seen Anya grow from a clumsy girl to a fine woman, though he supposes that wasn’t entirely accurate either. He had raised her to become the Imperial Scholar for the mission with the aid of his pretend-wife, Yor, who was sitting on her usual spot on the couch to his left.
Yor looks at him, smiles at him fondly, a small crinkle forming on the side of her eyes. Loid smiles back, a similar crinkle forming on his own face. They had both aged considerably in the past decade and some odd years. Bond, the grand old ball of fur, snout now spackled with greying hair is snuggled up against his legs.
He was on the tail end of his mission now. How much time did he have left with Yor and Anya before he would have to shed his identity as Loid Forger? Before WISE needed his full attention again, and before he had to…
Twilight catches himself stirring his coffee silently, and immediately lowers his teaspoon to scrape against the bottom of his mug as he stirs, producing a steady, rhythmic clinking that fills the comfortable silence of the Berlint apartment that Loid called home. He figured that he would take his coffee in the Forger apartment the way he – Twilight – normally took his coffee to acclimate to the slowly sinking reality of the mission’s quickly impending conclusion, but that was no reason to get sloppy.
Right now, he was Loid Forger, who stirred his coffee normally. With the rhythmic clink and clank of metal teaspoon against ceramic mug. Normal.
Not Twilight, who did everything in silence.
Loid takes a sip of Twilight’s coffee. And frowns. It’s too bitter. Twilight thinks it’s strange, how he could possibly think that. This was the way Twilight really liked his coffee, right? Loid liked his coffee with one cube of sugar, but that was because it was part of the character he played. There were few things about Twilight that still remained, but this was at least one of those things.
So he stirs his coffee again, and takes another sip. And frowns again. It’s still too bitter. He sighs and sets his mug down on the coaster.
“Everything okay, Loid?”
Yor is smiling at him, tenderly as ever, and Loid thinks that she looks even more beautiful now than she did on the day that he put the pin on her finger almost thirteen years ago. The lines etched by years of joy, smiles and laughter shared between her with Loid and Anya have made her age in beauty.
Twilight’s heart clenches, envious of Loid. Regretful that he would have to take Loid away from Yor and Anya (and Bond) come the next winter’s end. Still, he smiles at Yor and nods his head.
“It’s nothing.”
Yor picks up a cube of sugar from the sugar bowl and reaches over the coffee table to drop it into Loid’s drink.
“You know, you don’t have to take your coffee without sugar. I know you don’t like it.”
“I’m just… trying something new.”
She giggles that light, airy laugh that lit up the room the way it always did.
“Did Frankie say something?”
A blush creeps up his cheeks. He clears his throat.
“He said that real men take their coffee black – no sugar. I just… thought that it might impress you…”
The blush spreads to his ears and his neck. The humiliation! Now, what kind of an excuse was that, Twilight?
In embarrassment, Twilight lowers his gaze, the reflection of Loid in the mirrorlike black of the coffee staring back at him. It was funny how Twilight and Loid shared a face. This was the one role he played that didn’t require a disguise, though it was by far the one that was the hardest to play convincingly.
“Thank you, Loid, but I think you’re plenty man enough.”
Loid wagers a peek at Yor and sees her blushing just as much.
With a sigh, Twilight picks up his mug and begins stirring the sugar into the coffee until it dissolves. He takes a sip of Loid’s coffee, and his lips quirk up into a smile. Now this was just right. Just a hint of sweetness enough to cut through the bitterness. No doubt about it, this was the way that he liked his coffee best. But since that was true, that means that that was one more remaining thing about Twilight that was gone.
Stolen away by Loid and his perfect life with Yor and Anya. And then he would steal Loid away from Yor and Anya.
What then, Loid? Twilight thinks.
What then, Twilight? Loid echoes.
It takes Yor’s voice, heavy with concern, for him to realize that he has been stirring his coffee idly as he has lost himself in thought.
“You’ve got something else on your mind.”
How did she know?
“It’s nothing that you need to concern yourself with.”
“It’s something to do with work, isn’t it?”
He raises a questioning eyebrow at her.
“How… how did you know?”
She chuckles as if though he’s asked something to which the answer was obvious.
“It’s your coffee. You stir it quietly when you’re deep in thought about something. It’s like you become a completely different person. Like you’re not Loid.”
His eyes widen in surprise. Yor had just casually dropped a bomb on him, and she didn’t even know it.
“H-how long have you known?”
“Since we got married. It’s hard to miss.”
“O-oh.”
Here was the best spy of Westalis, and his pretend-wife had found a tell on him as early as thirteen years ago. What a joke! You’re losing your edge, Twilight.
Even so, he cannot help but smile.
“It’s just work. It’s nothing,” he repeats.
Yor does not return his smile, and he quickly finds himself mirroring her.
“I’m serious, you know. This pretend marriage has gone on for almost thirteen years. I would hope you trust me enough to at least tell me about your day. About your work. About your worries. About you, Loid… if that even is your name.”
There was a dangerous glint in her eyes that he’d only seen in trained assassins. Even still, there were tears. Loid swallows thickly, and sets his mug down, standing up from his seat. Bond, interrupted, whimpers at the two.
“Why don’t you go to Anya’s room while we wait for her to get home, Bond? Come on, now,” Loid urges. The big dog receives the order with a soft boof and walks to Anya’s room, shutting it closed behind him.
Loid crosses over the small gap in between the coffee table and the couch to take a seat next to Yor. Tentatively, he places his arm around her, and brings her close to him, resting her head on his shoulder. This, against his better judgment as Twilight.
“Does this really not bother you? This fake marriage?”
“Of course, it does. Of course, it does… But not because I don’t like it. Quite the contrary. It’s just…”
He exhales deeply.
“I’m sorry, Yor.”
He can feel her shake her head against his shoulder.
“No, it’s rich of me to demand you to be vulnerable around me when I haven’t been honest with you either,” she laughs.
“I believe that’s at least reasonable for a good wife to expect of her husband, though we aren’t exactly your typical husband and wife, are we?” he chuckles, looking down at the woman before him. Yor Briar. The Thorn Princess.
“No, not exactly.”
Yor’s smile is wistful.
“How long have you known, Thorn Princess?”
She looks up at him, as Twilight watches her breathe steadily, chest rising and falling with every measured breath. Whether this was her training as an assassin of the legendary Garden keeping her composed or a sign that she trusted him, he did not know, but the fact that his body was not yet punctured anywhere made him inclined to think that it was the latter. At the very least, he hoped it was the latter.
Then again, this was a foolish line of thinking. It was abundantly clear that she trusted him beyond compare. This vulnerability was proof of it.
“I’ve had my suspicions for some time now. You’re home late much more frequently than is common for a psychiatrist. You come home with injuries from ‘patients,’ and you didn’t seriously expect me to buy your story about concussive therapy forever, did you? It’s not so hard to put one and one together.”
Twilight chuckles – or was it Loid chuckling? – concussive therapy. Even for a harebrained excuse, concussive therapy was especially stupid.
“I guess you’re right. Perhaps Westalis’s legendary Twilight isn’t as legendary as the Ostanian top brass make me out to be.”
Yor’s eyes widen with surprise.
“I’d known you were a spy, but you’re Twilight?”
He snorts with laughter.
“I’d at least kept that secret under wraps! I’m not Twilight for nothing, after all!”
Yor follows him in laughing her usual airy laughter. Music to his ears.
“Oh, stop it!”
When the laughter dies down, it is her turn to ask him.
“How long have you known, Twilight?”
“About thirteen years.”
Again, Yor’s eyes widen with surprise. Loid’s eyes drift to her chest, where there is faint scar from the battle on the cruise ship that Garden was implicated in. Yor clutches at her sweater instinctively, covering up the spot like it was a fresh wound.
“Since the Princess Lorelei?”
“Since the Princess Lorelei.”
“That long!”
“That long.”
“And you didn’t say anything?”
“And I didn’t say anything.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought I might be able to get some valuable information off of Garden through you… also because I didn’t want to risk being assassinated.”
“Hm.”
Yor looks disappointed at his straight shooter way of answering, and he can feel the blush coming on.
“I… also didn’t want to ruin our family.”
She hums in a tone like she’s satisfied with his addendum to his previous answer. After a moment, Yor peels herself away from Loid to look him in the eye. He’s done it now. That last answer was maybe a little too much, even if it was the whole truth. He didn’t want to put an end to this family of theirs. He did have a duty to fulfill. Whatever question would come out of her mouth, Loid is not sure he would be able to answer her true to himself.
“Does this have to come to an end?”
Loid spends a moment thinking about the question.
Does this have to come to an end? We started this marriage on a pretense. We’ve lived this marriage on the assumption it would. I’ve never asked myself that.
His eyes wander to his cup of coffee, then to Yor’s cup of tea. His eyes then move to the cupboard where Anya’s mug is. Finally, his eyes rest on Yor, who, as he’s noted before has aged beautifully. The tender kindness of her eyes, the gentle set of her features, the silken darkness of her tresses.
He feels almost foolish to have even doubted whether he would be able to answer her question. Before he is able to answer her, she puts a finger up to his lips to shush him.
“Before you answer me, I’d like to know who I’m talking to. Am I talking to Twilight or Loid Forger?”
Loid takes her hand, and interlaces his fingers with hers. With his other hand, he cups her cheek, pressing his forehead against hers. He answers her fervently, voice quiet as a whisper, confiding a secret greater than any national security threat that he’s had to deal with before. One he’s held close to his heart for almost thirteen years.
If there was ever a time to cast away a disguise, this was it. Not as Twilight, casting away the mask of Loid Forger.
“When I’m with you and Anya, all I want to be is Loid Forger.”
But as Loid Forger, casting away the mask of Twilight.
A tear falls down Yor’s cheek, and Loid wipes it dry.
“Not Twilight. Just Loid Forger. Husband to Yor Briar, and father to Anya Forger. I’ve thrown away many names. I’ve thrown away even my old name. But this? This, I want to hold on to. This name. This family.”
“And me?”
“And you. Especially you. You and Anya.”
Yor laughs feebly, still choked up with emotion. She brings her own free hand up to wipe away tears that Loid didn’t notice were already running down his, and he laughs in turn. She plants a kiss on Loid’s cheek.
“So you’re not leaving Anya and I behind?”
Loid cups Yor’s other cheek with his other hand, and brings her forward to kiss her forehead.
“No. Never.”
She breaks into a giggle and takes Loid completely by surprise when she presses her lips against his, but eventually, they melt into each other, as naturally as if though they had been kissing for the whole of thirteen years, and not as if they had only now shared their first kiss together as husband and wife.
When they part, they laugh.
“Married for almost thirteen years and we’ve just now had our first kiss.”
“Only because you took your sweet time, Loid.”
Loid reaches over for his mug of coffee, and when he takes a sip, he remembers that Twilight drank coffee out of necessity.
“Hey, Yor, have I ever told you that you brew the best coffee?”
Yor blushes at this.
“N-no, you’ve never!”
“Well, it’s true.”
Loid only started enjoying coffee after he started drinking coffee with Yor and Anya on idyllic Forger evenings.
“Yor, I know this is long overdue, and we’re already married anyway… but would you do me the honor of brewing my coffee every day?”
“I already do, Loid,” she laughs in response.
Loid pulls Yor in close to kiss the crown of her head.
“You’re right,” he smiles.
“Should we tell Anya?” Yor asks, already nodding off in the comfort and safety of Loid’s arms. Loid yawns, similarly comfortable in the presence of Yor.
“Let’s take a nap first. She’ll be home any minute now… We have a lot of explaining to do.”
For the first time in a long time, Loid allows himself to fall asleep fully in the presence of another – and he feels that he will wake in peace in the presence of another.