Chapter Text
It’s cold outside the first time they meet off the battlefield, frost crunching under the heel of Chrom’s boots as he walks around aimlessly. He can’t say for sure where he’s going, since he left without a destination in mind, but he had the sense to don a coat and scarf before taking off into the wintery night for a change of pace. Gods, the prince can’t even say why he left in the first place– all he knows is that it’s cold outside and his nose is frozen and a terrible sense of dread is coiling in his stomach and slithering up his throat.
He steps through the brush and looks up, and that’s when all of his fear begins to burn bright and his breath catches as he sees Cordelia sat down in the snow in front of him, gaze locked upon the moon. It’s a third thing he can’t explain, why the sight of Cordelia alone on a snowy night scares him, but it does. It’s terrifying, somehow, because she looks so calm and and free of worry but her clothes are too light– they don’t even have sleeves– and her skin is flushed by the cold and Chrom is terrified.
“Cordelia?” He asks; his voice is faint, and some of the syllables are lost to whispers. He expects her to jump at the sound of his voice as she always does, or at least expects her to tense in surprise, but she doesn’t. No, she doesn’t even react for a few moments, and he’s about to call her name again whens he slowly turns her eyes to him. For as all the times he’s wished she would meet his eyes without fear, when it finally happens, he hates it. He hates it because it’s strange– hates it because it’s wrong– hates it because it’s empty, and in all the years he has known her, she has never looked at him like that.
“My prince,” she replies softly, her voice monotone and cracked at the edges, like her throat is dry and she refuses to drink. There’s a quaver to her voice– she’s shivering, he realizes, looking closer– but her expression doesn’t even flicker, and his chest tightens, weight settling within him like a stone sinking to the river bottom. It would take so much strength to simply remain composed while so woefully underdressed, but even so, something about her seems pitifully weak–
And then he realizes why, and he sucks in a sharp breath.
She looks defeated.
“What are you doing here?” He wants to hear some strange, silly answer, hoping against hope that perhaps his comrade is more air headed than she appears– but Cordelia merely turns her gaze back to the moon.
“…I wonder…” And never before has strength terrified Chrom like this, because Cordelia sounds like a woman who isn’t counting on anyone else to save her.
But she’s not trying to save herself, either.
“Why don’t you wonder in a tent, then?” He breathes, voice quiet. He’d meant to for his words to carry anger, but they come across gently (for which he’s glad when the redhead looks back at him). “It’s cold out here.”
“…I know,” she replies, voice softer now, and a chill creeps up the prince’s spine. She knows. She knows, and yet she remains.
Chrom holds out his hand.
“Give me your hand,” he commands; Cordelia’s eyes widen ever so slightly and he feels fear give way to hope.
“Why…?” But even though she questions him, she places her hand in his, and his throat tightens when he can tell, even through his gloves, that her hands are utterly frozen.
“You don’t seem to want to take care of yourself right now,” he replies, pulling her up (his hand ghosts across her shoulder as she rights herself, and he wonders if, had they been friends, would he have pulled her close to him? But he lets it go). “So I’ll do it for you.”
“I–” The emotion begins to return to her voice, and he feels his lips curl involuntarily into a smile. “I couldn’t possibly–”
“Cordelia.”
She falls silent, and he leans in close, looking her in the eyes.
“I want to do this. It’s fine.”
She stares for a long while, but he doesn’t feel so terrified anymore, and he simply smiles widely in response. Then, slowly, she leans forward into his chest, the shivers beginning to wrack her body as she slumps tiredly against him. When he puts his arms around her, she doesn’t even manage to object, and he lets her stay like that as long as she needs to.
She falls asleep like that, shivering in his arms, but Chrom isn’t scared anymore.