-ˏˋ 𝑇𝘩𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝐼𝑠 𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖 ˊˎ-
starter for @lolucina
Ever since arriving at Garreg Mach, there'd been no shortage of things to do. Between the classes, and the missions, and the meetings, and the toddler in his room, Chrom had worn himself thin—and he was glad of it. Something about living through strife made it hard to sit still, yet he could honestly say that he was much happier building something than he had ever been when he was holding it together.
Gods, Em. How'd you do it? The Grimleal nipping at their heels, half of Ylisse in ruins to pay for their father's judgement, and not one but two children in her care when she herself had barely had ten years behind her. She had never admitted to being anything less than fine, and for the life of him Chrom had no idea how one could be so close to another who held so many secrets. Every day, he learned more about his late sister, and every day, that was all he could do. It was just a matter of taking up the reigns of those who'd come before you, accepting their successes, and their failures, and praying you were doing it right. King to daughter, sister to brother, and father to...
“——Lucina?”
All of a sudden, he was breathless. The handful of papers he'd been clutching drifted to the floor like confetti, and with nothing else between his hands, they reached for her. It was a simple matter of putting one foot in front of the other, until it was eight, ten, fifteen steps—what a small price to pay to have her there again, and to know beyond any shadow of a doubt that this was no dream.
“It's you—I mean, you're here,” he said. Then, there was his laugh. It bubbled up from his throat, light and deep and airy all at once. In the span of that sound his grip moved from her back, to her shoulders, to her face, until warm and calloused fingers ran down the ridge of her ears and the ends of her hair. “You cut it?”
He didn't know what else to say, or at least, he didn't know what to say first. There must have been a thousand little things, each as small and vapid as the last, but in this moment they were everything to him. Questions like where she'd been, and how long she planned to stay? For now though, he'd have to settle for just two.
“How are you?” he asked, and as though only just realizing how close he'd pressed them, Chrom detached himself from her. He really shouldn't have rushed at her like that, but the truth was that he couldn't help himself. Eyes tired, and head shaking, all he could do was beam at her, even as he moved away. “I'm sorry. I just didn't know if you’d... well, I left a letter for you in Ylisse. Did you get it?”
