Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Twilight reached the scene of the terrorist ring’s centre of operations, the address provided to him in a D-cipher, the sight that met his eyes sent him reeling. 

The Handler had detailed to him in a short brief, that in the success of the pursuit of nuclear codes, a group of wannabe vigilantes greatly threatened East-West relations. They needed to be taken down swiftly, without sending the general public into mass hysteria. 

With eyes as sharp as their crystal hue, Twilight surveyed the room before him, noting the singular exit, the excellent vantage points for close-range sharpshooters, the high-quality ammunition the vigilantes possessed and the sheer amount of blood that coated the walls. 

Someone had reached the scene before him, someone faster and more talented at combat than anyone he knew, except perhaps the Handler herself. Eyes roving the scene of slaughter for details he would later have to mention in the inevitable pile of paperwork, the unshakeable Twilight took a double take when he saw a handmade keychain dangling from a rafter dripping red, the twin of which hung from his own set of keys to the Forger home. 

Recently, at Eden Academy, another arts and crafts class had been conducted, and the young students of Cecile Hall were instructed to make a set of key ornaments for their parents. Anya’s craftsmanship was praised for its whimsical childishness , and Anya had been very proud to show off the key ‘our-no-mens’ to her parents. The next day, both Forger parents had left with identical chimaeras dangling from their keys.

So why was Anya’s chimaera chain here, of all places?

Careful to avoid stepping in pools of blood, Twilight examined the ornament closely, recalling Handler’s words; “According to our sources, the SSS does not consider this terrorist force a large enough threat to eradicate immediately.” 

When Twilight had spoken to Franky about acquiring more details about the ring leader, the curly-haired man had smirked and whispered conspiratorially, “Careful, Forger, you may be a master spy, but from what I hear, the Garden has set their eyes on this target too.”

Twilight had tucked away the information. “The existence of the Garden is highly unlikely, Franky.”

Franky had shrugged and smiled, handing him a plain brown packet along with a copy of the Daily Ost. 

If the SSS wasn’t involved, then that would mean Franky was right. And Yor’s chimaera keychain being here could only mean one thing… 

But it couldn’t be true, could it? Sure, Yor had always been freakishly strong and good at combat, but she said she’d taken self-defence classes, right? To protect Yuri, as a child. He had conducted intensive checks into her background… But the Garden had kept itself a secret for ages, surely they could alter…

No, Loid resolved, clutching the keychain in his glove. He must sort things out with Yor, before going behind her back. Perhaps she had an explanation. Come what may, their relationship as husband and wife and their cover as the Forger family could not be compromised.

For the mission. 

Chapter Text

“Mama!”

“Yes, Miss Anya?”

“Papa is late.”

“I’m sure he’s gotten caught up in work, he’ll be home soon,” Yor reassured Anya, but she couldn’t help but toss a worried glance at the door of their home. Even though Loid had confirmed his relationship with Fiona as strictly professional, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety whenever he worked late. 

But how horrible of her! What a bad wife she was, doubting her husband this way. 

“Mama, Anya is hungry!”

“Would you like me to cook something, Miss Anya? Oh, but I know you don’t like my cooking…”

“Anya wants Mama’s stew.” At this, Yor beamed at her daughter, whose gaze was fixated on the television as she watched the new episode of Spy Wars that was airing. 

“I’ll get right on that, Miss Anya!”

Anya gave a solemn nod as Bondman jumped through a ring of fire on screen, before whispering something to the white bear of a dog that lounged beside her. ‘I could totally do that,” Yor thought as she watched Bondman perform several flips before she set about gathering the ingredients for her mother’s stew.

The evening progressed, and just as Anya made her third plea of hunger, the door to their apartment opened.

“I’m home,” Loid called, and Anya cheered, running to drag her papa to the dining table so she could finally eat. 

“Hello Yor, how was your evening?”

Yor gave Loid a bright smile and a simple answer, but she couldn’t help but bristle at the ask. In their time as a married couple, Yor had come to know Loid well, or so she liked to think. And his tone… he sounded tired. Anxious and exhausted. 

But Loid’s favourite coffee was in the cabinet, and she resolved to ask him about his concerns and make him a cup after Anya went to bed. It’s what a good wife would do, after all. 

They ate dinner listening to Anya's stories about Eden, digging into the strawberry cake Anya had asked for as a reward for her arts and crafts activity. Oh, what a terrible mother Yor was, losing her keychain like that!

“Anya is sleepy,” the pink-headed girl yawned, and Yor picked her up, helping her change into her sleep jammies before putting the beloved gremlin to bed. 

Heading into the kitchen, she set Loid’s mug on the counter, preparing his drink with milk, just as he preferred it. Setting her tea beside it, she couldn’t help but smile inwardly at the picturesque vision of their two cups on the tray. 

“Thank you, Yor,” Loid gave her a warm smile, and she took a seat beside him before his face turned sombre.  “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Oh no, Yor thought. This is it, isn’t it? He’s talking to me about ending our arrangement. He doesn’t want me as his wife, he’s fallen in love with Fiona! Oh, I don’t know what I’ll do without Miss Anya! And I’ve gotten used to being Loid’s wife… Of course, there’s my cover to think about too. And what if he reports me to the SSS?!

Without a word, Loid placed the chimaera keychain on the low centre table, the one Yor had lost during her most recent pruning . At first, Yor was glad he had found it, but realisation held her back from picking up the adorable charm. Was it Loid’s, or was it hers? If it was hers, how, how had Loid found it?

There was only one explanation. 

Shopkeeper’s words from before the pruning echoed in her mind; “Our informants have told us that the SSS does not intend to eliminate this force yet, so their involvement is not a cause for concern. However, the Western spy force, WISE, has set its eyes on this target. You must serve the customers before WISE gets ahold of them and interrogates them. These codes must not become known to anyone, at any cost.”

Was Loid a…? That would mean he was a traitor! But he was such a kind man, and Yor didn’t think he had done anything to compromise Ostania. Wasn’t it a spy's job to maintain peace? That made him the farthest thing from the scum she was used to killing.

Careful of her next words and actions, a stone-faced Yor met Loid’s gaze. He was equally icy, neither of them ready to give an inch. 

In a household of love, exuberance and joy, for the first time since the Forger family had begun living together, silence reigned supreme. 

Their cover, their jobs, their marriage… Everything was at stake. And they both knew it. 

Chapter Text

The clock continued to tick, painfully loud. Husband and wife, spy and assassin, stared at each other in fatal deadlock. 

For the mission, Loid thought, this must be resolved.  

For the cover, Yor thought, I can’t lose my family.  

“Loid! What’s this? Did you not like Miss Anya’s keychain… You mustn’t tell her, she was awfully proud of it.”

Wordlessly, Loid placed his set of keys on the table. So, Yor concluded. It was the missing keychain. Her missing keychain. 

“Oh, it’s mine! I didn’t realise I had lost it, where did you find it? Did you drop by City Hall?”

She was nervous, she was blabbering. But the world she loved, all of it was at risk, because of her silly, stupid mistake. 

“I didn’t find it at City Hall, Yor.”

Yor knew where he had found it, but no one knew about that place, except WISE. With the finality of the realisation, the wave of panic Yor had restrained washed away any resolve she had.

“Is all of it false?” Yor questioned, fighting back tears. “Is Anya… Bond… All of them? Am I the only one?” In dismay, she covered her face with her slender, bandaged hands, which still smelt slightly of spilt blood. 

At Yor’s line of questioning, Loid's eyes widened in genuine shock. When they both stood at this daunting precipice, Yor’s first thought was his… hers… their family? To see her so hurt at the implication that it was all a lie, Loid rushed to comfort her. 

Gingerly, he drew her hands from her face, turning them so her palm faced the sky, and absently, drew gentle patterns into her calloused skin. How could he have not seen it, he wondered. The callouses of a killer, scars that were achingly similar to his own. But beneath it all, Yor’s hands were soft, gentle. A mother’s hands. 

“Anya is your daughter, Yor. Bond is our dog. They’re both adopted.”

“What?” Yor’s bleary gaze widened, her lower lip trembling as she processed his words. “Anya isn’t your daughter?”

“I—,” Loid exhaled, slumping forward, the truth weighing on his shoulders. “At first, she wasn’t… But Yor, now, she’s as much mine as she is yours.”

“So, all of this, it’s a lie?”

Not anymore, Loid wanted to say. But the syllables were those which his tongue couldn’t shape. Desperate, beseeching, anguished, Loid met Yor’s gaze, praying to the God he had long ago stopped believing in, that she could read what the depths of his ice-blue eyes held. 

When Loid looked at her, Yor’s heart broke. The answer to the question she had dared to voice, she could see it in his eyes. After all, she was his wife . Initially, their marriage had been a sham, an arrangement of convenience, yes. 

But over the months… When Yor looked at her husband now, she no longer blushed or shied away. Her heart swelled, like a bloom on the crux of blossoming, waiting for the heat of summer. When their hands met as they worked in tandem by their hearth, her face grew warm, but that warmth spread to her every single extremity, a flame she had neglected to put out. 

Looking at the plea in her husband’s eyes, a bitter chill whipped through Yor’s heart. They had so much to say, and so much held them back. 

Yor did not know how to bridge the gap of a thousand secrets and a thousand lies between them… But she remembered, Loid had called her strong, so she drew in a solidifying breath and reached out, her hand cupping Loid’s cheek, his invisible stubble tickling her palm. 

Sighing, Loid leant into his wife’s touch. He knew he was a sinner, always doing what needed to be done, lying and scheming and isolating himself in the name of a greater good, but the time for confession had come, and there was no greater proof of God to him than his family, his beautiful daughter, his diligent wife. 

“Loid,” Yor began, closing her eyes in her search for the right words, for the weight of her husband’s gaze spoke such dizzying volumes she could not bear it. “I need you to know that I love Anya, I love this home and I love…” You, Yor wished she could confess. “I love what we’ve worked so hard to create. I wouldn’t forfeit it for anything in the world.”

Loid tried to speak, but she brushed a thumb against the seam of his surprisingly soft lips, his clever mouth and silver tongue. 

“Allow me the privilege of saying what I need to say. Please ?”

Loid answered with a soft nod, and unwittingly she shifted closer, their proximity a necessary comfort.

“My line of work is… I do it for us. I did it for Yuri, to protect his happiness. The thought of any danger befalling him used to paralyse me with terror. And now, you and Anya… You make me so happy, Loid. So, I strive to do everything in my power to protect that.”

Yor’s confession hung heavily in between the couple, but rather than let it linger, Loid kissed the inside of his wife’s palm, allowing the truth to permeate his skin. It did not threaten this life, as he thought it would. The foundations of their family felt stronger than ever. 

His spy training was a whisper in the back of his mind. The correct decision would be to get rid of Yor and find a new wife, but no part of him thought that was ideal. No, there was only one path forward. Compromising his identity to someone he trusted with his life. 

“Yor…”

“Loid, I won’t force you to tell me anything that would put you at risk. What I said, I spoke of my own volition.”

“And what if I want to?”

Yor bit her lip, crimson gaze soft. “A husband can tell his wife anything.”

“Thank you…” A breath. “You asked me if this life was a lie, Yor. I wish I could say it wasn’t, and I wish I could say it was. All my actions, all my deceptions have led me to this inevitable point, and too late I have realised, I’ve been fooling myself. Up until this very moment, I believed every step I took was a move on a giant chessboard, a manoeuvre in an eternal Cold War. Everything, for my mission.”

“Your mission was a fake family?”

“Yes, was. My mission has evolved, Yor. What used to be for the sake of peace, has now become for the sake of us. I do not regret being given this assignment, not for a moment, because without it, I would never have seen what true happiness looked like. Since I was a child, I’ve always been fighting, been moving forward. But with you, with Anya? I finally learned what it means to rest.”

Loid’s smile was minuscule, but it revealed a man without walls, a man who had finally shed a million faces he was used to hiding behind. “My family is the true objective of my mission, Yor. You are my peace. You are my home.”

Stripped of every single inhibition, only husband and wife remained. 

Suddenly, their nearness became all too apparent, and the exhale of their warm breath overlapped in the shared space of their bodies. 

“Loid,” Yor whispered, afraid to shatter the hushed reverie of the living room. “You’re such a wonderful man, and deeply kind… I’m so glad you married me.”

Loid brushed his hand down her neck, before reaching to tangle his fingers in the luscious black locks that tempted him every day. “You are beautiful, Yor, and strong, and kind. Had I asked the heavens, they still could not have given me a better wife.”

Noses brushing, the couple searched each others’ burning gaze as Yor draped her legs over Loid’s lap, his hand sliding up her thigh to pull her close, bracing the small of her back as he leaned into her. 

“You mentioned you had an early day of work tomorrow.” Yor brushed a strand of blond hair from Loid’s face, nails scratching against his scalp, her free hand mapping the expanse of his chest over the thin soft cloth of his shirt.

He hummed low in his throat. “There’s something else I need to do first.”

“Okay.”

When their lips met, what spiralled through Yor was not shock or confusion, but simple contement. Loid’s lips were bitten, raw, soft and tender all at once, and she savoured the taste of him, more varied and sumptuous than any meal he had ever cooked for her. 

What Loid had said was true. Yor was his home. There was nothing headier than this holy sensation of Yor mouth against his, no scotch or whisky that made him drunk like the feel of her body slotted perfectly in his embrace. No woman had made him hunger this way, had been seared so completely in his memory through but a kiss.

Yor possessed the keen senses of an assassin, and every single sense was overwhelmed with keen jubilation. She allowed Loid’s presence to seep into her bones, make an indelible mark on her very soul as he lifted her into his lap, her arms encircling him wholely, his silver tongue brushing the seam of her plush lips, seeking entrance.

Loid revelled in his wife’s intensity, the delicious gasp that escaped her as his tongue danced circles around hers, teasing, flicking, wrapping her hair around his fist. 

When they broke for air, both their endurance trainings at their limit, Loid parted from her with a groan, pressing a soft kiss to her jaw, the hollow of her throat.

Yor nearly jumped out of her skin as Loid caressed the exposed skin of her back, and kissed her collarbone, face as bright as the tantalising scarlet sweater she favoured. Unable to help herself, she leant back and caught his cheeks with both hands, and placed a reverent kiss on his forehead, his eyes swimming when she did. 

“Your eyes are tired, Loid,” she whispered, running a delicate thumb over his closed eyelids. “You need to sleep. We’ve abandoned responsibility long enough.”

“Yor…” Her name was a sigh on his lips, head resting on her shoulder. “May I ask you a favour?”

“Of course.” Idly, she ran a soothing hand over his head, scaring away his encroaching headache. 

“Stay with me, tonight.”

Yor stayed quiet, abashed to consider Loid’s proposal, but doing it nonetheless. 

“Nothing more, but—”

“You deserve to rest, Loid.”

Her husband’s frame relaxed, and he melted into her. 

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

—————

When Anya walked into the living room the next morning, already wearing her Eden uniform, and saw her parents relaxed and blushing like scarlet peonies when they shared even a glance, the loudest blare of 'Waku, waku!' went off in her head.

Noticing his daughter was dressed, Loid fixed her with a stern look. "Have you finished your homework, Anya?"

"Mama and Papa smooched last night."

Loid glanced at Yor from over the rim of his coffee mug, eyes serene, and Yor grew as red as the tomatoes she was busy with. "That's nothing a child should know, Miss Anya."

"Heh."