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Chapter Text

"Is the king nice mama?"

"Very nice, my little angel. The nicest in the entire kingdom."

"What about his kids? Are they nice?"

The elder woman laughed and ran her hands through Corrin's silvery locks. "Indeed they are. Do not fret, they are sure to be everything you imagined and more."

Corrin turned in her mother's lap and glanced up at her mother with bright crimson eyes. "Are you sure mama? I heard the second eldest prince likes to chase cats through gardens."

----

It was ten in the morning when Corrin crawled under her sleeping mother's plush sheets. "Wake up mama! Today's the day! We have places to be!" she shouted and launched a full frontal tickle assault on Mikoto's bare feet.

The victim in question jerked in her groggy sleep and pulled her legs away from the assailant. "It's far too early darling. Not even the king himself would want to see me without my rest." she joked through a yawn. Corrin huffed and crawled up to her place next to her mother and under her arm.

"Awww come on!" She pouted. "You said that yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that-"

Mikoto chuckled and placed a kiss at the tip of her daughter's nose. "Okay, you win. I am helpless against such a strong argument." Mikoto pushed herself to sit up and allowing Corrin to follow suit. "Do tell the others that I will be up and ready shortly and you, you little slugabed, aren't even out of your sleeping clothes yet!"

A sheepish smile spread painted her face and Corrin quickly slid out of her mother's modest bed before she could tickle her ribs in retribution. She scampered across the wooden floors in her modest home with her hands outstretched and her hands gently grazing the beige walls. She went off in search for the help around the house and relayed the news before asking them to help her pick out her outfit for the journey. Today was a very exciting day for the noble family. Lady Mikoto was to visit King Sumeragi of Hoshido and introduce their children to each other, as they were soon to be siblings by marriage.

It had been several years since Corrin's previous father had left the scene. The charming man had swept woman left and right off their feet, only to be enchanted by the looks of an exquisite villager. After a courtship that lasted a mere few months and a night or two in the bedroom, Corrin had been conceived and it took no longer than a night for the man to disappear with the wind at the mention of her newfound pregnancy. Despite the comments that others hurled at her, she was rather at peace with it.

"If the gods did not want me to have this child, then I would not have received this child. Now, pickles please!" is what she told a particularly gossipy crowd during a market day, pickles and all. She would, of course, receive help from many of the elders in her respective village to which she would be eternally grateful.

Years later when Corrin was eight or so, the King would notice Mikoto among crowds and gatherings and was completely enamored by her appearance, behavior and the way that she would carry herself. "Fit for a queen." he'd tell himself before courting her and eventually proposing.

Corrin, however, had not met any of the royal family before. She was always to small to see through crowds when Sumeragi was giving a speech and always lived a good ways away from the castle to see the king or his children in passing. So she figured this would be the best time to make an impression on the family that were the center of the kingdom.

A maid with a tender smile and crow's feet at the corners of her eyes made her way into Corrin's room with Corrin in hand. "Now, lets decide what to dress you in!"

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Keaton rested in his wife's arms, with his cheek gently pressed against her belly. Her hands were running through his wild yet deceptively soft mane with a gentleness that would not be expected of the girl who could turn into a dragon at whim nor of a Nohrian royal known to conquer fields worth of faceless.

"Do all of the garou have such soft fur?" Corrin asked with her head tilted to the side.

Keaton hummed into her silk night shirt and turned his head so that his words would not be muffled. "That's right, but I definitely have the softest of the pack. Gotta keep it neat in tidy, ya know?"

Corrin laughed. "Of course, I expect nothing less from the big bad wolf." Neat and tidy was not the first thing that came to mind when his fur was brought up. When they first brought him back to camp, for example, he had a tree's worth of branches and leaves intertwined within his locks in addition to many other miscellaneous items. Sure, it was soft but it took some major convincing to get the garou to ACTUALLY tidy up his mane.

The dragon princess rolled her shoulders, causing Keaton to readjust himself. While he did so, his gaze became focused on her skin. He noticed that her skin was absolutely decorated by a vast amount of scars. So many, he muses, that he compares them to the number of stars in the sky that he would gaze at back when he was with his pack. Keaton could feel the beginnings of a possessive growl at the back of his throat but suppresses it in favor of running the pad of his thumb against a scar on the palm of her hand.

"You're really something..." he mumbles, catching Corrin off guard and making stare down at her husband with an eyebrow raised.

"What makes you say that?"

"It's just..." Keaton huffs and rolls onto his back and further into Corrin's lap. There were so so many things that he could say to her. He could talk about how her unmatched kindness and generosity brings light to the bleak kingdom of Nohr, or how she was the sole source of motivation for those fighting in the war. He could talk about how her bright smiles makes his tag wag uncontrollably and how it drives him insane when her smile is directed at anyone but him. Maybe the fact that she was able to overcome the gravity of her challenges and all the while preventing any deaths that she was able to help.

"Just...?" she teases and rubs at his cheekbones with the side of his thumb.

Keaton's ears twitch and he looks up at his partner with the best of his abilities. "You're just so amazing, how'd you even get to be so perfect?" he asks in a mixture of awe and adoration.

This, of course, causes Corrin's cheeks to redden and she looks away bashfully. "I don't know what you're talking about, but thank you."

He pulls down her hands from his face and presses his lips to her wrist, right over an unfortunate scar that came from a wound that had him scared out of his mind. "I'm glad you're here by my side. You've made me the happiest woof around!" he exclaimed through a howl that had Corrin laughing.

"And you've made me the happiest dragon!"

Chapter Text

The woods were the best place in Kamui's astra-physical kingdom, Keaton thought. They resembled the dark, humid environment of the territory in which his pack thrived and was full of lively, robust game for the army to eat. The most important thing, however, is that it provided the wolfskin with some invaluable alone time. Being around so many humans tended to be... claustrophobic at worst and uncomfortable at best. When he sees some of the gruffer, less refined members of Kamui's army he's instantly reminded of those who hunted his kind for their luxurious fur or to simply try and keep his kind at bay. He prided himself in getting better at dealing with them and improving relations with a few despite these reasons and even found that some of the members of the army stuck out more to him than others.

He didn't particularly care about all of them per say, but he certainly seemed to care about one person more than he did others.

And of all people he had to become close to, it was the one who had found a place in the hearts of those in the entire damn army. Princess Kamui, whose origins aren't necessarily the best and whose smile makes it hard to form words or to stand in place. From the moment he got to the army to now he found her a compelling, bright, and admirable person who outshone the rest of the people who pale in comparison. It didn't help that she would gently stroke his fur until he was in a state of bliss or shared her own treasures with him (even though he didn't get why she liked them just yet, but the fact that she was willing was what counted).

Keaton could talk about all the things he found endearing about the optimistic princess until his face was blue and a migraine pounded at his temples.

He thought about this now as he watched Kamui sit next to him, unwinding from her jog in the woods.

"I take it you enjoyed your run, yeah?" he asked, chin in his hand and canines flashing through his smile.

"I did! It's nice being able to run... it gives me time to clear my mind you know?"

He nodded and they sat together in amicable silence. Birds chirped the sounds of the continuing spring, light filtered through the bustling canopies of the trees, and the creek burbled the innate secrets of nature.
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Keaton found it incredibly disheartening whenever Kamui called someone up to their tree house quarters that wasn't him. Even now, as he pretends not to watch Silas climbing up the ladder Keaton can practically feel a growl build up at the back of his throat and his brows pinching together. It wasn't that Silas himself was a bad person, hell any goody two shoes that is able to stick a position as Kamui's best friend was probably worth the title, but the very idea of someone being closer to the dragon princess than he currently is serves as a very foreboding thought.

He knew, he absolutely knew what Kamui meant to a majority of the camp. Whenever the dragon princess turned her back, people were quick to follow the curves of her body or to gaze in her general direction with a longing that was so sickeningly sweet that there would be an eternal surplus of sugar at the camp. He found that most of the people within these camp fit within a spectrum with Niles being the most direct and flirtatious with his affections (a detail that irritated him to no end) and to Silas whose good heart and intentions prevent him from outrightly pursuing Kamui at the risk of ruining their long standing friend ship. However, these affections didn't seem to have any limitations.

To his left, he found Xander presiding over the training of several new recruits to their army with the youngest Nohrian prince, Prince Leo, at his side. Keaton wasn't blind and he sure hoped he was reading the actions of these two wrong. Just like the others, it seemed as if these two were swept up by Princess Kamui's grace and charms. Sometimes he caught the two princes amicably staring (from a distance of course) at the princess as she retold a story or kept a conversation going. At first he assumed that they were unaware of their feelings, but they couldn't be that dense could they? The fact that they were not related left it entirely possible for them to pursue and court Kamui if they wanted to. There would be nothing in their way and there would be no one with the ability to effectively speak against their decision should they decide to.

Jealousy.

Jealousy fit Keaton perfectly. Jealousy found a way into Keaton's heart in terms of possessiveness and possessiveness manifested itself in his curt responses, agitated stances, and moments of isolation.

Chapter Text

It took a while to figure out what that nauseatingly warm pit at the bottom of her stomach and deep in her throat meant.

---

10:30 PM- Kamui starts to realize it when her family returns to their respective kingdoms after everything is settled and done and she finds herself with more time on her hands than she is accustomed to. From the beginnings of Valla's reconstruction, Kamui had the full support of both the Nohrian and Hoshidan governments. Azura was extremely helpful in trying to incorporate Vallite customs and regulations into the relocation and her help was greatly appreciated. Similarly, Xander and Ryouma provided their guidance in assisting the new queen and teaching her the ways of politics and how to make sure she accomplished the best for her country.

However, when everything is said and done, the visits and close proximity of her familiars broadened and sometimes she wondered if their facial features were blurring in her memories. Azura, who chose to live in Valla, and Kamui's sisters, who came to visit whenever the burdens of royal court eased up on their shoulders, offered to take her outas a reward for working so hard. Kamui greets them with a smile and soon finds herself denying the offer. Time and time again they each make a face that fails to conceal their shock and disappointment. "Okay, well if you change your mind feel free to call for us, alright? We'll pick you up. A queen does need breaks after all." Azura says. She nods and closes the door behind them when they leave, reassuring them that she's tired because she's been polishing up laws all day. A lie of course, she can't seem to wrap her mind around anything these days.

11:30 PM- An hour later, she attempts taking a nap in her large vacant bed but is unable to sleep and finds herself following the paths left by the imperfections in her marble ceiling. The world is a void. A void where one decision today would matter not in the eyes of a countrymen born centuries from now. Her name and title will merely be an engraving in a plaque somewhere, hidden and overshadowed by years and years of progress.

It shouldn't be this difficult to sleep. I haven't even done much to warrant this drowsiness. Bad day maybe?

She ignores the nagging feeling at the back of her head passing it off as the result of her studies, battle plans and the lack of a decently sized break preferably with her best friend. Speaking of which, shouldn't he be calling soon? She hopes he's doing well.

12:30 AM to 3:00 AM- Fatigue is ever present but that unnameable nagging feeling that seems innate within her persists. The Vallite queen finds herself curled up in the dingy and overused sofa that takes up a good portion of her small private workspace. The tomes and scrolls passed down onto her by both sides of her family serve as an outlet for her to spend her time. Five minutes in she's mindlessly flipping through pages and pages of undecipherable text with glazed eyes and no idea how long she's spent on a section.

Relenting to her fate, she slams shut the thick, dusty tome and buries her face into the silk sleeves of her sleeping gown.

You aren't fit to be here. Blood stains your hands and the dead populate your lands. You aren't fit to be here.

In a way, she agrees. How many people have died because of her ineptitude? How many lives could have been saved should a more suave and analytical leader taken her place? Azura could have been an extremely capable leader what with her similar situation and previous knowledge of the kingdom's culture and general presence. Would the Vallites appreciate her more?

5:30 AM- Who knows when sleep managed to hold the dragon queen hostage and drowned her in the inky darkness. She wakes up with drool pooling on her sleeve and her now unruly hair splayed around her head. How fitting, she thought. Weren't queens inherently graceful?

She wipes the drool off and sits up. It wasn't time for her morning breakfast, nor was it time for Jakob to walk into her bedroom and gently wake her in that manner that he had done since he was stationed by her side all those years ago. No, she was sure that her life was some ironic screenplay written by the gods who found some sort of humor in her fatigue.

With fog clouding her vision and her mind, she pushes herself to stand instead of being sprawled out on the couch and immediately stubs her toe on the coffee table. Perhaps it wasn't in her best interest to insult the gods that she served.

5:45 AM - She soon finds her way back to her room. The lack of tea on her bedside suggests that Jakob hadn't been here either. The man was an awful sleeper. She didn't deserve his unwaivering loyalty nor did she understand why he would fight tooth and nail to be back by her side if he ever got misplaced.

You don't deserve him. Jakob is a gracious person, merely by your side because of pity and acknowledgment of your little worth. Queen of Valla or not, you're just clinging onto what little he thinks of you.

Tears cling to the corner of her eyes and she suddenly feels empty. The very idea of Jakob thinking little of her is preposterous, she knows, but her thoughts persist and her teeth break the skin of her bottom lip. It's too early for these toxic thoughts that poison the waters of her mentality and make her crave the finality of death.

7:00 AM - Jakob finds her sitting up in her bed with her shoulders hunched and her hands masking her face.

Jakob senses something wrong, but isn't sure if it's merely because she isn't a morning person either. "My lady? I wasn't aware that you woke, I'm terribly sorry." he apologizes, setting down her morning tea and breakfast on her bedside. What catches him off guard isn't her hunched posture, but the way her irises are drowning in red and her pale face is puffed up and tear stained. Without missing a beat Jakob is at her side with worry clouding his expression and his voice. "My lady? What ever is the matter?"

The pad of his thumb wipes at her cheekbones in an attempt to wipe away an hour or more's worth of dried up tears. She shakes her head and displays a small, subtle smile in an attempt to cast off any fears he might have.

"Nothing to worry yourself over, Jakob. I just didn't get any sleep is all... Oh! The tea smells divine Jakob!" she exclaims in a quick effort to prevent any questioning that he might have. Jakob seemed to know everything about her, after all. The last thing she wanted to do, however, was burden him with any of her trivial problems.

She sips her tea with her pinky out and Jakob knows better.

12:00 PM - Hours and hours pass. The events that took place before now all merge and conceal their details from Kamui whenever she tries to recollect them. Was it Shura who had to come visit her, or was it Azura? Had Kaze been the one to snap her out of her daze during her studies or had she created that memory to fabricate some sense of control over her life? Even now, while she sits for lunch with her siblings who had graciously took time out of their busy schedules to visit her, Kamui finds herself empty and yearning for this sickening layer of emotion beneath her outward demeanor to just go away.

Kamui refuses to show it, however. She refuses to show them the turmoil that seems to undermine every single decision she makes, every single thought she's had, and any feeling of self worth that builds over time. Instead she laughs at their jokes and contributes stories of her own.

"Valla is coming along smoothly," she says, "but I think I got lost in the castle a few times, it's a miracle that I didn't get lost in the Northern Fortress." she snorts and the laughs she gets in return strengthen her facade.

That is, until Ryouma and Xander pull her into a corridor away from their siblings after their meal.

Obvious concern is laced on each of her siblings' faces. Their eyes bore into hers. In them she sees a similar, innate turmoil that comes with being royalty. The bloodshed projects itself into their eyes, all the possible opportunities to save a life, all the mistakes, all the nights they lost sleep because of one stupid slip up they could have prevented should they had been better. None know the feeling better than they do, it seems.

She retires early that day.

---

7:00 AM - Jakob gently shakes the Vallite Queen and she awakes with the events of the day ever present at the back of her mind. Today, however, has a different tone to it. Instead of craving the concrete embrace of death and facing the perpetual bleakness of life Kamui found that she actually felt pretty... normal? She faces Jakob with her usual drowsy smile, drinks her tea and eats her breakfast and prepares herself for the day.

Kamui herself could not explain why her mentality was in such a state yesterday nor why is was such a drastic change from her attitude today. Depression had its damning way of manipulating a person, luring a person in with its bright and optimistic moments and crushing them with its iron-clad boots. It's a viscious a toxic cycle that she found herself in but gods be damned should she let that get in the way of her life.