Change was coming. The heavy weight of summer humidity and lightning storms relinquished their hold on the atmosphere and were replaced by thinning clouds, stirred about by a cold breeze and allowing constellations to wink in the crisp air. The nighttime song and dance of frogs and fireflies had packed up for the season and quieted into the faraway chirps of crickets.

Robin shivered a bit as she paced the halls of the castle, her heels clicking merrily against the stone tiles. Her gown was much more form than function, and while it kept her comfortably cool in the throng of dancers it had little to offer against the looming autumn that seeped through windows and spilled through open doorways. Despite the chill she's grateful for the fresh air, the abundant space, the quiet. With her thoughts whirring, she feels as though they'll spill from her ears and fill the entire castle if she doesn't keep moving.

Restless feet quickly carry Robin to her closest approximation of sanctuary – the royal guest wing. Directionless energy channeled up through her hands and she flung open her guest room door with too much gusto, spooking a nearby guard.

"Sorry!" she offered to the guard, ducking in with an apologetic wave. Robin's ears nearly missed the end of a beleaguered sigh before the door shut.

Inside she found no solace, nothing to quiet her mind. Moonlight slanted appealingly through gaps in the heavy blinds, spilling a pearly glow over the floor and a handsome wooden trunk holding her few worldly possessions. Sitting before it, she undid the chest's latches with a gratifying click and pawed through its contents: tonics gifted from Stahl, a bawdy romance novella borrowed from Sumia, a Chron'sinian shawl gifted by Lon'qu (she'd been terribly ill-equipped for the Feroxi cold), lace handkerchiefs, forcibly given by Maribelle ("honestly, dear, that boorish sneezing!"), an exquisite pendant, hush money from Gaius. She unpacked each item with care, prizing the memories they held and friends who bequeathed them. Beneath the mantle of gifts was a thinner core of her own things; textbooks on war history, figurines employed in battle diagramming, sundry spellbooks, and her trusted cloak. Though it lacked the sentimentality of emotional memories, the cloak was security. It was familiarity, and it was her.

A glorified safety blanket. Robin snorted to herself as she tossed the cloak about her shoulders, indulging in its familiar weight and permitting herself a glance in the mirror before shuffling from the room. Her coat positively ruined the effect of the dress, and her hair was working itself free of the meticulous pinning Cordelia had slaved over that morning; frankly, she looked a mess, but felt more like herself.

Ambling in the entrance to the great hall, she found the party still very much alive. The warring circles of aristocrats and Shepherds had joined into one amoeba and equalized in energy, the soldiers bringing the dynamism up and the elite tempering it to a manageable level. With no surprise she noted Lissa whirling about the dance floor with a slightly green Stahl in tow, likely suffering the combination of his eating contest and too much spinning. With a great deal of surprise she found Panne had joined the party, but still kept herself a sizeable distance from the main crowd. She wasn't alone, though – walking her through the steps of the slow tune was none other than Frederick, crisp and attentive as always but wearing an expression she'd never before seen on the imposing knight.

Spellbound, Robin watched the two waltz until a clatter of heels and a voice calling her name drew her attention from the tableau. She grinned widely, bracing for impact as the scurrying newcomer launched into a hug.

"Good to see you, too," Robin chortled as Lissa constricted the wind from her. "Enjoying the party?"

"Loads!" Lissa gushed, pulling back giving a sweeping gesture to the ballroom. "I mean, look at this!I can't remember the last time everyone had such a good time, even Frederick let his hair down for this one! Metaphorically, anyway."

"I never thought I'd see the day when Frederick the Weary would loosen up enough to dance," Robin agreed, nodding. "I saw you cutting the rug out there, by the way," she added, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Looks like you and Stahl had a nice time tucked away in a corner."

"I had no choice but to hide in the corner!" She wailed, gesturing plaintively but coloring all the same. "Between Chrom's paranoid lurking and the ever-present threat of the meat market we couldn't find two seconds to ourselves!"

Robin cocked her head. "The meat market?"

Lissa put her hands on her hips and tutted impatiently. "The longer I go unbetrothed, the more eligible the council thinks I am to being auctioned off to the highest, frilliest bidder. It's the same thing at any social event, I'd have to spend entire parties listening to Lord Whosawhatsit's life story, or dancing with Baron Von Bore's specky grandnephew because the council saw fit to forge useful alliances." She shook her head, as though to dispel a cloud of gnats.

"The council's going to have a field day when they hear about Stahl," Robin sighed darkly.

"They might, but I'm not worried about them. Emmeryn didn't achieve peace by marrying the first lord that came along, so I won't either." She shrugged, continuing. "It's not as though I blame the council – they're just trying to serve the realm and reinforce the throne."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "When did you get so level-headed?"

Lissa snorted and gave her a well-deserved elbow to the ribs. "Ex-cuse me, I've always been a paragon of level-headedness. And maturity."

"Of course, milady," Robin drawled, curtsying deeply.

She groaned in mock anguish. "First Gaius, now you, too?"

"Sorry, you're just an easy target. Chrom is, too."

"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot!" Lissa gasped, clapping her hands together. "Chrom was looking for you earlier! Wonder where he's off to… Oh."

Robin followed Lissa's gaze over the ballroom and found the prince in question. At the far side of the hall she spotted Chrom, awash in a sea of ladies painted and glittered and jeweled like birds of paradise. Though he smiled politely to a woman chattering away to his left, his darting eyes locked with the two of them and they waved pityingly.

"Poor guy, the meat market already got him." Lissa lamented. "It looks like his eyes are screaming."

"He'll be alright. Most men would kill for this problem," Robin quipped, smirking. "I'm headed outside for some air, want to join me?" said

"Maybe later, I've still got some dancing left in me. Besides, sister's honor requires me to free him from his shackles." She explained, pantomiming the rolling up of her sleeves. "Wish me luck!"

"Godspeed."

Robin waved the princess off, the train of her gown and golden curls quickly swallowed by the throng of dancers. Chrom caught her eye once again, his brow knit with silent questions.

"Meet me in the courtyard." Robin mouthed, gesturing towards the double doors behind her. Chrom nodded his understanding, relief softening the hard edge of his jaw.

She offered a small smile and turned to leave, hesitating at the threshold. The sticky humidity and hum of the crowd fell away and was lost to the quiet chill of the hallway. Steeling herself with a deep breath, Robin drew her cloak tightly about her shoulders and with a sure step, she moved forward.

Compared to the rest of the castle, the central courtyard was far from grand. Tall walls surrounding the area eliminated all potential for a scenic view, but ivy vines scurried up the ramparts, bobbing and weaving along grout and drawing the eye upward to a pristine night sky. A gibbous moon cast a pearly glow, bloated with party merriment and casting nearby stars into shadow.

Chrom found Robin pondering one of the few trees in the courtyard when he finally extracted himself from the impeccably manicured claws of the noblewomen. With much of the courtyard shaded by surrounding walls throughout the daylight hours, only the very center of it received a full day of sunlight. Standing head and shoulders beyond anything else, the great willow tree in the middle was a sight to behold – its long tendrils hung heavily above a semicircle of marbled benches, weighed by a full mantle of golden leaves that detached and fluttered to the ground when the winds blew through. Ducking through the boughs, Robin met him at the benches with a small smile.

"Hello," she greeted.

"Hi."

"This is a… erm, nice tree that you have here."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Thank you. It seems to have taken a liking to you, as well," he mused, eyeing Robin's hair. A crown of fallen leaves had lodged itself into her hair and spilled into the hood of her cloak, and he carefully brushed some stragglers from her shoulder. "Your kinship with plants will never cease to amaze."

Robin yelped and tossed her head, sending most of the leaves cascading to her feet. Chrom struggled to maintain a straight face and ignored the stubborn foliage clinging to her tresses, gesturing to sit at the nearest bench. She obliged with murmured thanks, perching beside him with calculated ease.

"Lissa says she's seen you in here a lot since the homecoming," he offered. "I have to wonder if you were serious about rooting down and retiring as a bush."

"Not quite yet," Robin snorted before pausing, thoughtful. "Something about this courtyard feels almost… nostalgic? Is that something I can say? Comforting?" She turned her gaze around the enclosure, sweeping over low hedges corralling dormant flowerbeds, a granite birdbath whose water pooled like reflective glass. "It feels… homey."

"Homey, huh?"

She bit her tongue, watching him carefully. He'd pounced on the merest glimmer of promise like a starving animal and his face shone with hope. The sudden optimism gave him a boyish look that contended heavily with the ceremonial finery, the cape, the crown. "Not in the traditional sense – this place reminds me more of a feeling. Of tall walls, or a cold night, of solitude. I must have spent a lot of time in places like this."

"Oh." Though he tried his best to muscle his face into neutrality, disappointment colored his eyes. "You've remembered some of your past, then?"

"Nothing concrete, just impressions of it."

"I see."

A heavy pause hung between the two of them, interrupted only by the whisper of a breeze stirring the boughs of the old willow tree. Flaxen leaves flitted by, settling in the birdbath and shattering the water's crystalline surface. Robin admired the moonlight as it rippled through the basin while Chrom fretted with Falchion's scabbard. Three times he opened his mouth to speak, only to close it again, frowning deeply.

Agitation finally overcame his uncertainty and Chrom turned to Robin, mussing his hair. "It's been the longest twenty four hours of my life, not knowing what's going on in your head. I'd taken that for granted, your freeness with letting me know what's on your mind."

Robin let out a sheepish laugh, shaking her head. "In all fairness, I haven't had a handle on what's on my mind either. I'm sorry for keeping you out of the loop, I really did try to mitigate the damage while you've had the coronation on your plate, honest."

An aching fondness muscled its way onto his face, settling in the corners of his eyes and the slant of his brow. "I know. And I'm sorry, I didn't give you the chance to elaborate on what's on your mind. I was too busy being a selfish boor and throwing a royal tantrum." He exhaled deeply, collecting himself for a moment before continuing. "But this time, I won't come on like a wyvern in heat, or storm off in a huff. No holding back, just let me know what's on your mind."

"Okay."

When she finally pried her eyes from the rippling waves of the birdbath and turned to Chrom her expression was resolute, firm.

"I've been really worried about the homecoming for a long time now, but it wasn't until recently that I knew why, exactly. The sensible reason would be that I had no real home to return to – I had no recollection of company, no purpose and no family waiting for me, and I was scared to be alone."

"But," she fumbled, toying with her hands. "I knew that wasn't the full truth, because I did have family to return to. In meeting you, Lissa, Frederick, all the Shepherds, I've found family in spades. Everyone has opened their homes and their hearts to me, and I consider myself immeasurably lucky to be welcomed into the homes of such treasured friends." A wry smile crept across her lips and she tilted her chin thoughtfully. "Especially yours."

Chrom's struggle to maintain neutrality failed and another spark of hope backlit his expression, locking his eyes to hers.

"I've been with at your side for the entirety of my life as I know it. Ever since that day in Southtown we've grown closer, stronger, and I can't imagine my life without you in it." Robin's brow furrowed and she reached for Chrom's hand, resting on the bench between them. "But it's also gotten to the point where I can't imagine myself separately from you, from the war. I know myself as your tactician, your adviser, your best friend. I don't know the standalone Robin at all yet – I don't know what her favorite foods are, if she likes to sleep in or wake up early, whether she likes to live in the city or the country, how she gets along with children or animals. I don't know how she leads her civilian life beyond the war."

Traces of optimism flickered and extinguished like a candle. Chrom's gaze dropped to her hand covering his own, and though he did not withdraw it, his fingers curled into a tight fist.

"I see." His shoulders slumped, and he glumly addressed their hands again. "So you're leaving, then?"

Robin gave a small nod. "Tomorrow."

An oppressive weight seemed to settle between the two of them. Chrom moved to retract his hand, and was more than a little surprised when Robin's slender fingers tightened around his. Raising an eyebrow, he found an unexpected glint of mischief coloring her expression.

"I was actually hoping you'd help me move tomorrow, if you had some free time," She mused drily. "Help me set the place up, you know, give me your opinions."

He couldn't stop the grimace from overtaking his face. "Don't you think that's adding insult to injury, asking me to personally remove you from my life?"

"I'll put it this way: don't you want to know where I'm moving?"

Chrom blinked, stupefied. "Yes?"

She nodded to the courtyard's eastern wall, gesturing far beyond it. "You know the estates beyond the training grounds and the barracks, the one's owned by Sully's family? They have a cottage at the edge of their property that was recently vacated, and I'm going to rent it for a bit."

A spectrum of emotion overcame Chrom, spanning relief, joy, doubt and settling on confusion. "So you're leaving the castle and moving… down the street?"

"Yes."

"But… why?"

"Because…" Robin started, taking a huge breath in and out to arrange her thoughts. "I want to take advantage of this opportunity, this big, clean, imposing slate. Right now I have infinite options – I could shove off and try to hunt down any scrap of information leading to my family, I could enlist in the Falcoknight division with Cordelia, I could retire to the countryside with Panne. I can take my time to figure out exactly what kind of life I want to lead after the war, how I want to make this transition into peace."

"But for now," she continued. "I want to take a minute to collect myself. Live on my own, help restoration efforts, advise you, train with Frederick… business as normal."

"That… that's great!" Chrom exhaled. "But… you're sure you have to move out of the castle?"

She nodded sagely. "I want to make a name for myself here instead of riding your coattails to the top of society. Besides, Ylissean social etiquette seems to frown upon unmarried couples living together."

"As if social etiquette was ever something to slow you down." he quipped, before stopping short. "Wait…"

Realization dawned over him and his mouth fell open in a silent "o". Heat pooled across Robin's cheeks, and before she could think better of it, she leaned in to ghost a kiss across his lips. His mouth twisted in a grin beneath hers, but before she was ready he'd already pulled back and was gazing into her eyes as though she'd evaporate into the evening breeze.

Robin pouted, already aching for the lost nearness. "Is something wrong?"

He offered a sheepish smile, reaching carefully to tuck a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. "Forgive me, I just… just need to make sure that you, I mean…" His brow knit, and Robin could sense the building pressure of inarticulate concern building behind the babbling. "With all that's happened over the last couple days, and with my tendency to get ahead of myself – with the dancing and the wine and that dress –"

"Yes."

"I just need you to know that even if I'm wrong and making an ass of myself, I still support your decisions and –"

"Chrom."

Robin stemmed the flow with a finger to his lips, trying to ignore their softness and the color she could feel radiating from her face. "I promise, you haven't misinterpreted anything, this time or last time." Carefully she moved hand to cup his cheek, reveling in the crooked, boyish grin that she knew so well. "You were right. I was just… afraid. Afraid of what kind of effect my constant presence would have on the beginning of your reign – what your council, allies, enemies, even suitors would think of a nationless girl you found on the ground. But peacetime Robin doesn't give two figs what they'll think of her. And I don't care if you're better off with a well-bred show pony. I'm selfish, and self-centered, and I love you, Chrom." She felt her throat tighten around the words she'd feared to utter for so long. "You're my partner, my other half. I want to bring you my whole self, and stay by your side."

Her heart, already straining to pump as much adrenaline into her system as possible, skipped a beat when the cool granite of the bench vanished beneath her. Everything was moonlight and stars and royal silks and warm nearness and warmer laughter and Robin's arms windmilled of their own accord and found purchase around Chrom's shoulders, shrieking wordless protest as she was pulled onto his lap in a fierce embrace. Mashed as she was into his collarbone, Robin grappled with simultaneous affront and delight at the sudden displacement.

"Here I am, pouring my heart out to you and you have the nerve to laugh at me," Robin accused impishly, settling comfortably against his chest. "How cruel!"

"I'm the cruel one? After your 'I'm leaving forever' bait-and-switch?" Chrom chuckled, his voice lighter than it had been in weeks. Robin laughed ruefully, planting an apologetic kiss at his throat. She felt a shudder run down his spine, and his arms encircled her even more tightly.

"Forgive me, had I been of finer moral character I may have been strong enough to leave," she joked a little sadly. "It looks like you're stuck with me for the time being."

Chrom drew back, unwinding his arms so that he could tilt her face to his. No longer laughing, his eyes were dark as the night sky and twice as deep, filled with an unrestrained affection that halted Robin's breath.

"As glad as I am to hear that you think you've made a decision in your best interest and not mine, you're wrong," he vowed. "And I won't ever stop trying to convince you otherwise."

He sealed his promise with a kiss, lingering and gentle, on her brow. Robin's chewed at a foolish grin that threatened to overtake her face, resisting the urge to argue her point further.

"Fine. We'll take it day by day, then. Together."

The affection long-threatening to boil over within Robin's chest finally overcame her and she expressed it every way she could. Each caress of his cheek, every breath shared between their intertwining lips, each murmur of his name sang with intent unrestrained and love finally, freely given.

Two guards posted nearby at the courtyard entryway cleared their throats and airily discussed the weather, pointedly averting their eyes from the tableau unfolding before them. Robin distantly thanked the gods for the guards' discretion and discipline before relinquishing her senses to the night, the future, and the heady warmth that filled her chest drowned out all else.

A/N: Hey! Hi! Hello!

This chapter was a long time coming, and for that I'm deeply sorry. Life has been happening in a big way and everything else got kicked under the bed, along with this little project, until incredible works by AcquaSole kicked the motivation back into me. Sometimes I forget how lucky we are to have access to this literature, these projects symbolizing hours of care and love and research, given freely by anonymous authors just because they feel like it.

Encryption prevents me from linking the fics directly, but they can be found at Ao3 under AcquaSole's pen name, entitled Reaching for Empyrean and To Chase a Hart. Word to the wise - clear your schedule before delving into these two stories, one an Awakening adaptation of a Brothers Grimm fairytale and the other a retelling through Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. I lost an entire weekend to these beauts. (Do note the ratings and archive warnings before delving too deeply!)

I know I said this would likely be the last chapter, but I was wrong. Epilogue to come, and I have an unrelated (and frankly trashy) Chrobin fic on the backburner. Don't worry, I won't even consider uploading until it's fully written – I now know better.

Endless thanks, as always, for taking the time to read and share your thoughts!