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The warmth of the crackling fire contrasted with the frost crawling across the castle windows. Frederick shivered as he recalled especially vivid memories of camping in the bitter cold. He heard a content sigh at his side, which brought a smile to Frederick’s face. It wasn’t often Chrom had the opportunity to relax like this, and Frederick was beyond glad today was one of those days. The war was over, the Risen had ceased to bother townsfolk, and overall the Shepherds were, in a word, happy. Everybody was married, with their future children foreseeing their matches, and the once-rugged “family” of soldiers had turned domestic.
“Remember the days we didn’t have a roof over our head?” Chrom asked, as if reading Frederick’s mind.
“You mean only mere months ago, milord?”
Chrom laughed. “Well, true. What I have in mind is those unfortunate occurrences when the weather got the better of us.”
Frederick couldn’t help but smile in return. Chrom’s happiness was infectious. “I happen to recall a time you refused to come inside and caught a cold. Now that I think about it, that surely decreased morale - the captain confined to his cot as his knight cared for him.”
“I was just trying to tidy up camp!” Chrom retaliated, not losing the light tone of reminiscence. “You always did so much for the rest of us. You still do!”
“It is my duty, milord.” Frederick responded solemnly.
“You can cut the ‘milord,’ Frederick. We are long past that point.”
“Yes, sir.”
“That too, Frederick. ‘Chrom’ will suffice.”
“Understood.”
Chrom sighed again, clearly knowing which battles were not worth the effort. “You know, Frederick, we should get the Shepherds together sometime soon. You may not be the only one of us lacking...companionship.”
Frederick’s brows furrowed. “For the last time, Chrom -”
Chrom leapt up, pointing an accusatory finger at Frederick. “You called me by my given name!”
Frederick smiled. As much as he missed the thrill of battle, there was nothing he would not trade to keep Chrom feeling comfortable enough to make jokes. “You caught me. But Chrom, I beg you to understand that I am happy as I am. I don’t want to...push it.”
“But when do you plan to marry?” Chrom asked, clearly confused.
“I...do not intend to wed.”
“N-not at all?” Chrom asked, worried. “But what about you and Sumia? I could’ve sworn there was chemistry between the two of you-”
“Chrom,” Frederick said in a warning tone.
“Cherche? You two get along famously, if I remember correctly.”
“We are just friends. Besides, Cherche is married. I do not intend to get in the way of her happiness.” Frederick said resignedly.
“Frederick, you must understand that this is hard for me to process. What about Olivia? She is a lovely person, inside and out.”
“Chrom.”
“Frederick, you’re not pursuing Robin, are you? I don’t mean to sound disparaging, they would make a great partner -”
“Chrom.”
“...Henry?”
“That’s enough!” Frederick grunted, face red. “I...don’t wish to discuss this any further.”
Chrom moved closer to Frederick. “My friend I just...I worry about you. I worry you are lonely, and I worry you will not work to find companionship on your own.”
Frederick stared at him. “Are you implying I’m going to die alone?”
Chrom laughed nervously. “Not exactly. I’m just saying, there has to be somebody.”
“Well…”
“So there is somebody!” Chrom exclaimed, taking his self-assigned role of matchmaker all too seriously.
“Chrom, I…”
“You can tell me, Frederick. I’ll keep your secret safe.”
“I cannot.”
“Frederick, why are you afraid?”
Frederick recoiled. “Afraid?”
“Ever since I’ve known you...you have always been the protector. Every time I have been afraid, you have always remained calm and collected.” Chrom flushed slightly, clearly remembering some choice incidents where he gave Frederick no choice but to console him. “This is a role reversal, one I am...not comfortable accepting.”
“The way I perceive it, you are the one causing the change in balance.”
“Frederick, I know you. I know better than that.”
“As you wish Chrom. I will admit, there is one in the Shepherds I harbor affection for.” Frederick regretted the words the second they left his mouth, but steeled his resolve. He would distract Chrom, and it would be over before he knew it.
Chrom leaned in close to Frederick, so close that Frederick could pick out the spots on his face marred by battle.
“Maribelle?” Chrom whispered.
Frederick laughed, and he had no idea why. Maybe Chrom’s proximity, added to the growing fire, was making him extra warm. That would account for his accelerated heartbeat and sweaty palms. “No, but now that you mention it, Maribelle does know who this mystery person is.”
“Bless her soul,” Chrom said under his breath. It was widespread gossip that Maribelle was never faithful to a single partner, but only the family of the Exalt and close friends/servants (Frederick, in other words) that knew Maribelle and Lissa were romantically involved.
Frederick watched Chrom’s face carefully, worried that he had given away too much information. Chrom looked deep in thought, so Frederick concluded he was in the clear and relaxed again, turning toward the fire. That was too close for comfort.
What seemed like minutes later, Chrom finally spoke. The first time he said something, it was so quiet Frederick barely registered anything had been said. His acute senses were not yet dulled from being out of service, however, so Frederick turned once again to Chrom.
Chrom gingerly took one of Frederick’s hands in his own. He paused for a moment, and Frederick was free to compare his own calloused hands to Chrom’s tan, precise hands that had never needed to wield a tool as anything but a weapon. He gently exhaled, taking in the warmth Chrom provided.
“Frederick?” he heard Chrom ask.
Frederick broke from his thoughts and turned his head to Chrom.
“Frederick, is it me?” Chrom whispered. The silence of the empty room pressed in on Frederick, and he tore his hand from Chrom’s grasp.
“Milord, such a thing would be unprofessional. You mustn’t talk in such a way. It is wrong.”
“Frederick -”
“Even if I were to have feelings for you, milord, I could never tell you, much less expect you to reciprocate. It is wrong,” Frederick repeated, more for his own sake than for Chrom’s. “What would you even do if I confessed to such a taboo thought?”
“Anything, Frederick. Anything for you.”
Frederick, shocked, turned to meet Chrom’s eye for the first time.
“You have been at my side countless times, whether I knew I needed you or not. But I always have. Needed you, that is.” Chrom says, his voice so quiet and choked up that Frederick could barely decipher the words.
“Chrom -” Frederick’s voice broke, and he turned away from Chrom once more. He clung to the fabric of his pants as if his life depended on it, and he tried desperately not to let a broken sob escape his body. Though Frederick could not breathe, he could feel Chrom slide up against him and pull his head to his chest. The dam finally broke, and Frederick cried sorrowful condolences into Chrom’s chest as Chrom whispered consolation into his hair. Frederick was the one to break the union, covering his face as he wiped away the tears that did not pool on Chrom’s shirt. Hopeful that Chrom would see past his cracked lips and puffy eyes, Frederick did his best to resume what little composure he had left and apologize. Chrom does not allow for a second of it, instead opting to reach for him again and wipe his left eye gently, the same way he did upon meeting Lucina for the first time. Frederick knows. He had been watching.
Chrom’s hand slid to hold Frederick’s head securely, his thumb brushing Frederick’s cheek as his fingers curl around the back of his neck. Frederick felt his soul (and a few more tears) leave his body as Chrom leaned in and pressed his lips to Frederick’s, gently at first but applying more pressure as he realizes Frederick does not intend to pull away. Chrom pulled back after a handful of seconds, uttering a quick apology. Frederick noticed Chrom does not remove his hand from Frederick’s neck.
“Chrom, don’t apologize. I am the one who should be sorry.”
“Frederick...I understand your concern, but my feelings for you are not ‘wrong’.”
Frederick gently gripped Chrom’s wrist. “Nor are mine for you. Please, may I kiss you again?” Chrom nodded an approval, smiling.
It felt like his first kiss, Frederick thought, from the way he hesitated the second before he dove in to the way Chrom gasped when he finally joined them together again. Frederick the Wary had never been the type to leave himself vulnerable - hence his nickname - but Chrom was another story. Frederick had gladly opened up to Chrom, and he would do it again without a second thought.
Chrom shifted, and Frederick realized just how cold he was when Chrom was not nearby. Clearly Chrom felt the same way, as he pulled Frederick to him, restoring the heat Frederick was missing. Frederick let out a yelp; he was always shocked by Chrom’s strength. Chrom smiled in return, pressing his face against Frederick’s neck.
Frederick felt the warmth from Chrom’s smile spreading through his body. He was happy. He had found his companion. This could work.
This would work.