Chapter Text
Chrom tugged absentmindedly on his collar. He had grown up attending events like these, though not as frequently as his rank would suggest, his sister was never one for a show of opulence if it could be avoided, and his father was too busy warmongering to bother with them.
Still, sometimes it chaffed, figuratively, and literally, as it did now. Chrom didn’t appreciate how restrictive his outfit was. The material was stiff, and Chrom was used to freedom of movement, he would have felt better if he knew he could move more easily. Or, at least been able to have Falchion with him, but this was a ball, and weapons, even brought in by royalty, were frowned upon.
“Would you stop fussing with that?” Lissa said, smacking him lightly on the arm.
Chrom sighed and dropped his hand. “I can’t help it,” he said. “Everything about this makes my hair stand on end. Doesn’t it feel as if we’ve walked into the lions den with nothing but our wits and bare hands?”
Lissa shot him a look, and then a quick glance around to make sure no one was listening. “Chrom, we talked about this before we came.” Then she smiled a little, “And, when have you ever been armed with ‘wit’?”
Chrom shot her a look, but chose to ignore the last comment, “I can’t shake that feeling. We’re in Plegia.”
She nudged him, “Someone will hear you,” Lissa said quietly. Then, in her regular speaking voice, “Maybe you should dance with someone.” She swept her gaze over the room, and Chrom saw the exact moment it snagged on someone, “Oh, how about him?”
Chrom decided to humour Lissa and followed her gaze. He looked across the sea of nobles, aristocrats, knights, and foreign royalty like himself. Everyone was dressed elegantly, gowns swept the floor and jackets flattered waists, everywhere jewels glittered, satin, and velvet shoes whispered across the marble floors.
Everyone looked marvellous, but when Chrom turned to see whom Lissa had singled out he didn’t doubt for a moment who she meant when he saw him.
There, standing next to a small refreshments table was a beautiful young man. Chrom had never seen him before, he was sure of that. He would have remembered someone like him. Chrom was struck dumb for a moment, and completely missed the smug smile Lissa shot him.
His younger sister nudged him again, this time harder. “Well? What are you standing here for? Talk to him.”
As if he had been waiting for instruction, Chrom moved at once.
The young man stood, a crystal glass in one hand, the other on the edge of the table, where his hip also rested. He was dressed in black velvets shot through with white trimmings. It was stunning on him, the details on the jacket, the tiny pearl buttons that were only outshone by his fair hair.
When Chrom reached the table, the young man turned eyes like amber on him. Chrom swallowed.
“Hello,” he said.
The young man looked at him in surprise. “Hello.” He said, after a pause. He looked wary, like he thought Chrom might attack him.
That was entirely the wrong note he wanted to strike with this attractive young man. Quickly, he said, “It’s a, uh, it’s a lovely night for an evening – this evening.”
The young man’s look of wary uncertainty turned to confusion. It wasn’t at all the progress Chrom had hoped to make, but at least he seemed less alarmed, maybe. Chrom felt his face burn, he prayed to Naga to end his misery.
“I meant, this evening – event – is lovely, don’t you think?”
Marginally better. Why was Chrom so nervous? He took a breath and considered jumping off the nearest balcony as his only way to salvage this interaction.
To Chrom’s utter amazement, the young man smiled. It was still uncertain, but it was a smile, and it made Chrom feel warm for an entirely different reason.
“It’s a very nice night for an evening.” There was just a hint of teasing light in his eyes. Chrom liked that very much.
“Oh,” Chrom said, suddenly remember his manners. “Please forgive my rudeness, I didn’t introduce myself. I am Chrom, Prince of Ylisse.” He bowed low.
The young man waited for him to straighten, and then bowed in return. “My name is Robin, I – “
Seemingly from nowhere an older gentleman knocked into Robin, making him suddenly pitch forward, spilling the water in his glass. Chrom, who was directly in front of him, caught both Robin, and all the water.
There was a small fuss made when the gentleman’s friend came over to make his apologizes and escort the man out, he had clearly had too much to drink. When he left Robin turned panicked eyes on Chrom.
“I am so sorry,” he said in a rush. “Forgive me, I – “
Chrom waved his apologies away, taking the napkin Robin offered him and patting himself dry. He was almost glad it had happened, because now they had both misstepped, so to speak. It made Chrom feel better, at any rate.
“Please,” Chrom said cutting into Robin’s apologies. “It’s only water.”
Robin put the glass down on the table and looked at him mournfully, a sweet expression that was definitely worth getting a little wet for.
“Really?”
Chrom opened his mouth to say ‘yes,’ and then changed his mind. “No,” he said. He watched Robin’s expression change, he gathered his courage and rushed on. “But, you could make it up to me -- with a dance?” Chrom placed the damp napkin on the table without looking away from Robin.
Robin smiled again, slow and lovely. Gods, why was he so lovely?
“It would be my honour, your Highness.” Robin took Chrom’s outstretched hand.
On the down side, they both wore gloves; on the up side Chrom could still feel Robin’s warmth through them.
The dance in that moment was an easy one, straightforward and uncomplicated, which was wonderful because it meant Chrom’s attention could be focused directly on Robin.
“This is your first time in Plegia, Highness?” Robin said, letting go of his hand, turning, and taking the other.
“Yes.” Chrom said, stepping forward, while Robin stepped back. “It was rather unsafe for Ylissean royalty before.”
Robin frowned a little, “Yes, that is true.” A slight pause, then, “Do you truly support the peace then?”
“Yes,” Chrom said again, without any hesitation. “It was hard won, and I wish this conflict with Plegia had never happened. I would take back my father’s decisions if I could. Making war with Plegia did neither its people nor ours any good.”
They let go of each other’s hands, stepped around each other, and turned. Coming back together, they took each other’s right hands once more.
“I’m glad you think so,” Robin said. “I agree completely, it was senseless, and caused nothing but suffering.” His gaze was steady on Chrom’s when he said, “You’re not what I imagined.”
Chrom raised his eyebrows, “How did you imagine me?”
Robin smiled again. “What do you think of King Gangrel?” He asked, obviously deflecting. Chrom considered pressing the issue, but decided against it.
He thought of his words carefully before answering, exercising caution, for once. “I think if he continues down this path we have a real chance for lasting peace between our countries.” Then he added, “I’m not sure about his heir though, I’ve heard strange things about him.”
Robin gave him a look Chrom didn’t know how to read. “His heir?” He said.
Chrom couldn’t remember his name. Ronald? Rufus? Romulus? He considered asking Robin what the newly appointed heir’s name was, but quickly decided against it, he didn’t need to look any more foolish than he already had.
“That Gangrel has named someone with tenuous ties to the royal family is strange, especially when he has relatives that are more closely related.” Chrom explained. “And, I’ve heard the man appointed is some kind of dark sorcerer.”
“I see,” Robin said.
“But, I will reserve my judgement for when I have met him.”
“That’s very generous of you, Highness.”
Chrom winced a little, “Please,” he said, “Call me Chrom.”
Robin gave him another of those unreadable looks, but they way he said his name made Chrom forget that. “Chrom.”
It was nice, coming from Robin.
The dance ended, and another slower melody took its place. This one meant holding ones partner more intimately, Chrom looked at Robin for permission. He nodded his head; Chrom was elated.
They didn’t speak for a short while, they moved together, their gazes pulled toward each other as if drawn by some invisible force. It was strange to Chrom that he had taken a liking to Robin so quickly, so easily. That he found him attractive was obvious, but Chrom wasn’t – usually – one to lose his head over a pretty face. At least, not to this extent. And, this close, Chrom had a hard time not admiring the curve of his lips.
What was it about Robin?
“You’re an excellent dancer, Chrom.”
“You’re an excellent flatter, Robin.”
He laughed. “It’s not flattery if it’s the truth.”
“I think you’ll find the truth is often the best kind of flattery.” Chrom said. “You’re beautiful.”
What was wrong with him? This was entirely unlike Chrom. He watched rich colour come over Robin’s face and couldn’t regret his words, Robin really was beautiful. But, Chrom needed to calm himself, this was getting out of hand now.
“Thank you.” Robin said, softly, his gaze very direct.
Just then, an attendant came forward. “Apologizes, your Highness,” he said. Chrom nodded, and Robin turned. “I was asked to give you this,” and he handed Robin a slip of paper. Chrom let go of Robin so he could accept the note.
He read it, nodded at the attendant who bowed his head and excused himself. “I’m afraid I’ve been called away,” Robin said, looking and sounding apologetic.
“Will you be back?”
“Yes.”
“Then, look for me.”
Robin gave him a little smile; there was something almost sad about it. “If you still want me to, then I will.”
“Of course I will,” Chrom said, confused by his words.
Robin didn’t say anything else. Just bowed, “If you’ll excuse me, your Highness.”
Chrom returned the bow, and Robin left.
He watched Robin make his way across the room and vanish behind the numerous guests. He sighed.
Only a moment later Lissa was by his side. She smiled at Chrom knowingly; it made his face feel hot. “Stop that,” he said.
“Stop what?” She was grinning now.
“That,” Chrom said, trying for stern, and completely failing.
She laughed. “Oh, big brother,” she said. “So, when’s the wedding?”
Chrom flushed harder. “What?” He sputtered. “Shut up.”
Lissa’s laughter rang out, completely unchecked. Chrom scowled. He very much wanted to pull her hair, but he couldn’t, not in public, anyway.
This was new, not the teasing, they were siblings after all, but this type of teasing. Neither of them had really had much experience with romance.
“So,” Lissa asked, still annoyingly amused, “who is he?”
“His name is Robin.”
A pause, and when Chrom didn’t elaborate, Lissa pressed, “Yes, but who is he?”
Chrom opened his mouth, and then closed it. He had been so caught up in the euphoria of speaking to such a lovely person, that for a moment he had existed in a world where titles were unimportant. Chrom prayed he hadn’t just made a huge social blunder, he had no idea what Robin’s title was or where he was from, he had most certainly been at least a little rude for not addressing him by anything other than his given name.
Lissa looked at him in disbelief. “Chrom!” She sounded exasperated. “How could you not ask? This is ridiculous even for you!” She said. They were bickering in loud whispers.
“I’ll ask!” Chrom said defensively. “I’ll simply ask someone who Robin is and apologize for my familiarity later!” Problem solved, Chrom wasn’t a complete moron, after all. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”
Lissa shook her head and sighed. “Oh, Chrom.” She said. “At this rate I may be the only heir you’ll ever have.”
Chrom felt his whole face heat up. He shot Lissa a glare and opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say anything a bell began to chime. The sound was high pitched and it cut through the chatter, the music going silent at the same time as all the guests. Everyone turned to watch as King Gangrel walked in from a side entrance, to the part of the room where the band stood.
Gangrel raised his hand in greeting as he passed, his court following respectfully behind him. Chrom thought he saw – but no, could it be – ?
There was just a flash of fair hair, and suddenly it was gone. Chrom blinked, but was soon distracted when Gangrel began to speak.
“Welcome, welcome!” Gangrel held out his arms, as if he meant to embrace the whole room. His gaze swept over them, and Chrom was sure he had taken note of him and Lissa. There was a manic glint in Gangrel’s eyes that always unsettled Chrom, and while it wasn’t as bright as Chrom had seen it, it was still there. “Tonight we celebrate a most auspicious occasion!” His voice boomed, carrying easily over the crowd and reaching the far corners of the room. “Only a handful of years ago it would have been unthinkable to gather as we have now, but for the betterment of our two countries, for our peoples, Ylisse and Plegia have put aside our differences and declared friendship.” He paused and allowed the guests a moment to clap. Again his gaze swept over Chrom and Lissa, and then he beckoned them forward.
He and Lissa exchanged a glance. It was informal. If Gangrel had meant to address their guests as he was doing, he should have told Chrom and Lissa earlier, and have them enter together. The way he was gesturing them forward now was the way he would summon his own subjects, and not foreign royalty who were half the reason for this whole event. Chrom pushed down the annoyance and wary distrust sitting in his stomach and stepped forward with his sister, the guests parting immediately for both of them.
Chrom and Lissa stood next to Gangrel as he continued his speech. He knew Lissa hadn’t missed the slight either.
“We will take this fine occasion to present our heir to the people.” Gangrel stepped to the side and Chrom turned slightly to see a tall, frankly, unpleasant looking man standing behind the King. He did seem the type to use dark magic, although he was older than Chrom had heard.
But, he too stepped aside, and Chrom felt his stomach swoop. As if he had missed a step coming down a flight of stairs.
Gangrel had not meant the tall unpleasant man at all; he had meant the young man standing behind him, dressed in black velvet shot through with white thread, complimenting his pale hair that was now adorned with a simple circlet of silver. He hadn’t been wearing it earlier, and Chrom wondered if that had been intentional.
Now, Robin stepped forward and Chrom had no need at all to ask what his title was, because Gangrel was announcing it, and anyway Chrom already knew.
“Our heir,” Gangrel said, grinning, the manic light in his eyes brighter than ever. “Prince Robin of Plegia.”
Chrom took a deep breath.
He was out on a balcony off the hall, the first empty one he had found. The night was pleasantly cool; the sky was clear, the stars out, and the moon half full. Chrom was looking out on the courtyard, he wondered if he had made the right decision by asking to be alone.
Once Gangrel’s speech was over, Lissa had taken his arm and pulled him aside. She had looked at him with concern, “Are you all right?” She had asked.
Was Chrom all right?
He wasn’t sure. It felt as if a ledge he had confidentially walked out on had suddenly crumbled under his feet. Chrom felt like a fool for walking out on that ledge in the first place, especially when he hadn’t tested it first before throwing all his weight on it. It was his fault if he was surprised by the fact that it suddenly gave way.
Chrom heard the door to the balcony open. The music that was only slightly muffled by the glass doors grew louder, then muffled once more. Without looking back Chrom said, “Did you at least bring me some champagne?” It was probably better that he talk to his sister.
“I didn’t, but I could, if you like.”
Chrom turned so quickly he nearly upset his balance.
It wasn’t Lissa who had spoken, and it wasn’t Lissa he was staring at wide-eyed. It was the young man Chrom had completely lost his head over, the one who had smiled at him so sweetly.
Robin stood only a couple of steps from the door, his hands were clasped in front of himself, and the circlet gleamed atop his pale hair.
Robin took a step forward, and Chrom took a wary step back, bumping into the balustrade. He thought Robin looked hurt at his reaction, but it could have been a trick of the light, because the next moment Robin raised his empty hands, placating, his expression was unreadable.
“I suppose you’re not here to dance,” Chrom said a little warily, “Your Highness.”
Robin shook his head, but his expression remained the same. “It wasn’t my intention to lie – “ He began.
Chrom raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”
Robin clasped his hands again and took another step forward. “When I realized you didn’t know who I was, I thought it would be a good opportunity to get to know you.” Chrom gave him a look, but said nothing; he waited for Robin to finish. “I’ve heard about you, and I wanted to confirm you were – are – as people say.” Robin paused, still Chrom waited. “And,” Robin added, “I wanted you to like me.”
Chrom wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. “You – what?” He blurted.
He watched as Robin took another step forward, they were only a couple feet apart now. He looked at Chrom directly in the eyes.
“I wanted you to like me,” Robin repeated. “Because I’d like to ask for your hand in marriage.”