(Don’t mind me just adding insult to injury.)
Sometimes there were nightmares.
Frederick would jolt out of bed in cold sweat, plagued with another dream that the love of his life had left him again, and he could not stop or help her. His heaving for a breath as he leaned over to his side and reached out onto the space beside him, where his hand would meet her shoulder, and he would instantly relax. Still there, still breathing, still beside him.
Other times his body would suddenly tense up, wracked with fear with the possibility that she was gone again, or left again, or Naga knows where she went off to last time she was gone. Gone for so long, with the waiting, and the longing, and the hoping of her eventual return. He would suddenly feel the need to drop all his duties and rush to her side, and confirm that his suspicions were not true. And she would be there, writing, or speaking to someone else, or reading. And his heart would settle.
Sometimes. Sometimes they would fight. Even if it kills him inside to raise his voice at her, after not seeing her for so long, after missing her for so long. He wanted nothing else but to make her happy, and to see her happy and alive and here. In the moment, here. But sometimes. Sometimes they would fight. She would want to do something, go somewhere, plan something–and Frederick couldn’t allow it. No-no it was too dangerous he wouldn’t allow it. She was always so stubborn. Even if deep down he was so unbelievably happy to even disagree with her again, he said no. Robin always made a fuss, she began fighting him, tell him it was the only way–that it would save lives. Frederick said it didn’t matter.
“How can the lieutenant of the exalt family say that saving one life in the wake of many is a good idea? How can you even suggest such a thing!? What’s gotten into you?!” She would yell.
And Frederick would wrap his arms around her, and he would squeeze her tight and pull her down with him. And he would sob into her shoulder.
“I can’t lose you again.” His voice would shake, at such a low low voice a man of his size could take, and she would sit still. “I can’t.” And she would wrap her arms around him. “Not again..Not ever.” And she would cry too.
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