Chapter Text
Chrom climbed onto the back of the horse and leaned down to help Frederick hand Robin up to him. He cradled his beloved against his chest, so that Robin was sitting sideways in his arms at the front of the saddle.
Despite their best efforts, infection had taken hold in the night, and Robin’s brilliant mind was muddled with fever and pain. The wound in his leg was painful and inflamed, and together with the other injuries he’d endured at the hands of the poachers he’d been left too weak for further treatment at their temporary camp in the barn.
Sully and Stahl led the way, with Frederick and his prisoner taking up the rear. Their pace was slow, so as not to aggravate Robin’s injuries further, though every passing moment wore at Chrom’s heart.
Robin was safe in his arms, after the countless hours he’d been in the cruel hands of his captors. And yet, he was still not safe, as the marks of their cruelty had cut a terrible toll on his body. Chrom held the reins with one hand and cupped the back of Robin’s head with the other, tugging him close enough to press a kiss to his brow.
They were less than a day’s ride from the village, even at this pace. Lissa would be there, and if her magic failed then the village would have to have something that would help. Herbs to treat infection and fever, a hot bath to truly clean the filth of Robin’s captivity. A soft bed, with uninterrupted sleep in safety.
Robin murmured something, his forehead hot against the hollow of Chrom’s throat. Chrom listened, but the words were too faint to hear.
“We’ll be there soon,” he murmured back. He wrapped an arm around his beloved’s shoulders and held him close, despite the blazing heat of his feverish body. “Just hold on a little while longer.”
The other man said something again, and Chrom’s heart ached. Seeing his brilliant tactician brought so low so quickly tore at him. None of this should have ever happened. He shouldn’t have let Robin go off on his own, he should have gone after him sooner.
The canopy opened up above them, and they were riding out onto the open plains, the village in sight. The Shepherds had made camp at the edge of the village, and even at this distance Chrom could see the figures waiting for their return.
His eyes locked on one of the smaller ones. Lissa was a petite woman with fair hair and delicate features, though her prowess with an ax left many questioning their assumptions about the exalt’s younger sister. As soon as Chrom’s group was in hailing distance she was running toward them.
“Chrom!” Lissa danced around Sully and Stahl’s horses and reached up to catch the bridle of Chrom’s. “What happened? Is he hurt?”
“It’s infection,” Chrom explained wearily. He explained the events of the previous day and night as they approached camp, and when they were close to his and Robin’s tent he slowly dismounted with Robin in his arms.
“I’ll be right back,” Lissa promised, dashing away as Chrom pushed past the flap of their tent.
Robin was so light. He wasn’t a large man, by any means, but he always seemed so much smaller when he was injured. Chrom gently laid him down on their cot and brushed the backs of his fingers across Robin’s cheek.
He stirred, red eyes opening for a moment to meet Chrom’s gaze before sliding closed again. Chrom took his hand and held it against his chest with one hand, cupping the other around Robin’s chin to brush his thumb over the bruise on his cheek.
Lissa burst into the tent then, a staff under one arm and a collection of bottles in her hands. “This will help,” she assured Chrom as she set the bottles down to hold the staff out. She held it parallel to the ground, eyes closed as she muttered a few words. The crystal at the end of the staff blazed bright, and she wove the staff through the air in a figure-eight before touching the crystal to the center of Robin’s chest.
Color began to flood Robin’s pale cheeks, and he sucked in a breath as his eyes snapped open. Chrom slumped forward in relief, resting his head against Robin’s shoulder. “Thank you, Lissa,” he murmured. Robin’s body was already cooling, the infection flushed from his body by Lissa’s healing magic.
“Chrom?” Robin’s voice was weak but steady, and Chrom lifted his head to smile at him.
“We’re back at camp, my love,” he explained, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to Robin’s cheek. “All will be well now.”