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Snowflakes drifted lazily from the gray sky overhead, clinging to Lon’qu’s skin before quickly melting. The snow that reached the ground vanished with the other flakes, lost in the shallow blanket of white that had been accumulating for the past several hours. For Regna Ferox, which was known for its chilling temperatures and snowy terrain, such mild weather was almost unheard of in the dead of winter.
Then again, Lon’qu supposed that a lot of things had been mild since Robin had come home.
Home. He had never thought about Ferox in such certain terms. After leaving the slums of Chon’sin when he was a child, he had taken up the sword and traveled to Regna Ferox, where he had trained tirelessly to hone his skills. Though Basilio had taken notice of him and made him his champion, Lon’qu hadn’t allowed himself to entertain the idea that the arrangement would be permanent. Yet here he was, years later, serving not as Basilio's arena champion, but as his right hand man. He had even been given a space of his own on castle grounds, which he now shared with his wife. It was almost surreal.
Lon’qu let out a breath he hadn't realized he’d been holding, sending a cloud of steam into the cold winter air. It had been three months since Robin had returned, and there were still times where he wondered if he was dreaming. It seemed too good to be true that the love of his life, the only exception to his gynophobia, had died and come back to him. Yet there she was every time he woke up, her soft skin and gentle snoring a confirmation that for once in his life, he was that fortunate.
Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen Robin since earlier that morning. She had mentioned needing to run a few errands, insisting that she wouldn’t be long. He wondered if she had stopped at the library. Or maybe—
A sudden strike to the back of his head halted his train of thought.
He nearly staggered forward in surprise, but he caught himself just in time. It took only a moment for his warrior’s instincts to kick in. He spun around, hand reaching for the hilt of his sword as he readied himself into a defensive position. Only then did he realize that the back of his head was cold and wet, almost as if he’d been struck by a—
As if on cue, another tightly packed snowball was hurled in his direction. This time, he moved aside in time; it flew past his face, missing it by several centimeters.
“You’re out of practice, Twinkle Toes! Normally I wouldn’t be able to land a single hit on you while you’re awake.”
Lon’qu turned his head to the side in an attempt to locate the all-too-familiar taunting voice. He quickly found her atop a collapsed Feroxi watch tower, looking far too pleased with herself.
“Robin,” he called, eyes narrowing. “What in blazes are you doing?”
“If you can’t get close to a foe, you must engage him at long range,” she replied, reaching down to gather another handful of snow from the ledge she was standing on. “Basic tactics, really! I’m surprised you’d still be unfamiliar with them.”
Lon’qu was far from unfamiliar with long range tactics. She had given him the same lecture years ago before assaulting him with figs, of all things. He would probably never forget her lesson—if one could even call it that—for as long as he lived.
“We’re not foes,” he reminded her. He cautiously walked up to the tower’s remains, his gaze glued to the snowball in her hand, “and this is not a battlefield. Furthermore, you never attempted to get close to me to begin with.”
Lon’qu immediately knew he had said the wrong thing. Robin’s attention was now on the ball of frozen precipitation in her hand, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She considered it silently for a moment.
“Yes,” she said slowly.
“Robin,” Lon’qu said warningly. He wasn’t sure what she was planning, but knowing her, nothing good would come of it.
She let the snowball fall from her hand, then turned to look down at him, a smile playing about her lips. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. How silly of me.”
“Robin—”
Before he could finish, she leaped from the ledge, letting out what he could only assume was a battle cry. He immediately dove forward to catch her. To his relief, she landed safely in his arms. Her arms wound around his neck, a reflex to keep herself from falling, and her legs wrapped around his torso.
Lon’qu opened his mouth to chastise her for her reckless behavior, but she quickly silenced him by pressing her lips to his.
Normally Lon’qu’s first instinct would be to kiss her back, but considering she had just made a seven and a half meter jump and they were very much out in the open, he quickly broke contact.
“W-What are you doing?” he demanded, his face flushing. He loosened his grip around her rear end and waist, allowing her to slide into a standing position.
“Engaging at close range.”
Gods, this woman.
Lon’qu pinched the bridge of his nose and silently counted to five. “We’re in the middle of the courtyard. Imagine if someone had seen us!”
Robin quickly waved off his concern. “Oh, it’s all right. I know exactly when and where the soldiers go on patrol. I made sure we wouldn’t be spotted.”
Lon’qu opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again. He sighed exasperatedly. “You’re a madwoman.”
“That may be so, but I still landed a hit on you.”
“That was not a ‘hit,’ and you utilized dirty tactics," he reminded her gruffly. “I was concerned for your safety.”
“All’s fair in love and war,” Robin retorted. She curled a lock of ivory hair between her gloved fingers. “So now that I’ve won, do I get a congratulatory kiss?”
“Woman, I just said we’re in the middle of a—”
“—completely empty courtyard,” she finished matter-of-factly.
Lon’qu looked around carefully, ensuring that her observation was correct. It seemed they really were alone, he conceded grudgingly. He supposed there would be no harm in indulging her, and that thought was almost enough to make him scowl. The last thing he should have been doing was rewarding her for assaulting him and then scaring him nearly half to death. Either she had cast a hex on him, or she simply had him wrapped around her scheming little finger. Neither of those possibilities bothered him as much as they should have.
He placed a hand on the small of her back and pulled her close to him, heart pounding. "You’re ridiculous."
“And a madwoman,” she replied wryly, lying her hands flat against his chest. “I know.”
Without another word, he cradled her cheek in his hand and pressed his lips firmly against hers.
Perhaps she was ridiculous, but gods above, did he love her.