fandom: Fire Emblem Fates
characters: Xander (Marx)/Camilla, other siblings briefly
rating: T
words: 1245
for my sis @mcrisbackk <3 / read on ao3
She pulls their entwined hands against her lips and murmurs, “When morning comes, you will no longer be my prince.”
He tenderly rubs the back of her palm with his thumb and sighs. “That’s what scares me.”
The halls are empty and it feels like every step he takes reverberates off the silent, imposing walls.
His movements are neither hurried nor soft. After all, the Crown Prince should not need to do either in his own castle.
Sometimes when Xander closes his eyes, he can remember his childhood, when he had to avoid others within these same passages, in fear of his life.
His heart clenches in his chest, when he also recalls the tireless nights he’d spent, training until his muscles could not hold up the sword any longer, just to please his father.
Father…
The memories turn more uncomfortable as he thinks of his predecessor.
His feet carry him down a familiar path, taking turns without even thinking. The torches lining the corridors do not provide much in terms of light, but after all these years, Xander knows the fortress like the back of his hand.
And here he was, standing outside of her room again.
His old bedroom was much closer to hers, but tradition warranted he properly lie in the king’s bedroom now.
When they were younger, there were many nights Camilla would hoist her younger siblings to her room at bedtime. Other nights, Leo or Elise often came on their own accord, whether they were looking for comfort or company.
Now, it was his turn.
Xander gently pries open the door before slipping in. Maneuvering his body so quietly in the dark made him feel as if he was an apparition, like he was only a ghost haunting the dreary castle, instead of its future king.
“Xander?” Her soft voice carries over to him and soothes his fraying nerves.
She never asks why he comes, and he is glad, because he never has a good answer.
“Camilla,” he responds, in a sigh.
The large windows above her bed let in just enough light he can see her hair glinting, fanned out over her sheets.
His sister beckons him to her bed, moving to make room for him.
He removes his robe from his shoulders, torso bare and skin cooled from the night air. He haphazardly hangs it over her chair before padding to her large bed and sitting on the edge.
He feels her thin fingers reach out for him as she always does, tugging at his arm. “Come and sleep, my prince,” she coaxes, voice hushed and drowsy.
He gingerly lays down across her pillows, scented with Camilla’s typical bath oils and perfumes. “I apologize,” he mutters, finding her eyes in the shadows.
She scoffs and shifts closer to him. “You say that each time, you sweet fool,” she chastises. “You are always welcome here.”
He cradles his head on his arm while his free hand finds hers, lacing their fingers together.
She pulls their entwined hands against her lips and murmurs, “When morning comes, you will no longer be my prince.”
He tenderly rubs the back of her palm with his thumb and sighs. “That’s what scares me.”
Camilla presses another feathery kiss to his knuckles. “To be fair, I think you will forever be my prince in my heart.” She gives a sleepy smile, reminiscing. “The first time you came to me, when we were children… even though Mother had told me to stay away from you, you won me over pretty quickly. We only had each other, at first. Then you gave me Leo, and Elise too.”
“You’ve always been quick to love,” he goads.
They chuckle breathily, soaking in distant syrupy memories. Camilla lets her eyes slide shut as she hums pleasantly. “You might not be my prince come morning, but you shall always be my brother.”
He inhales, savoring the word, because he hadn’t always been allowed to be her brother.
Camilla unclasps her hand from his, only to reach out for his face, smoothing along the wrinkle between his brows she knows is there, even in the darkness. “Remember when we all slept together, when we were younger? It was so cramped, especially when you got bigger,” she giggles. “Elise would talk in her sleep, and Leo sometimes sleepwalked.” She sighs wistfully. “I miss those days dearly.”
He smiles, taking in her delicate features he’d memorized long ago for a few moments and turning slightly to kiss the curve of her palm, before rumbling, “And you hogged the sheets, sister.”
She titters and then curls closer, holding his face still to chastely slot her lips against his. He exhales longingly, cupping her cheek in turn, sword-calloused fingers tangling in her hair. They linger there together, the chasteness fading into something more sensuous, before Camilla draws away.
“We must wake quite early tomorrow,” she whispers, tucking her head under his chin. He easily throws an arm around her shoulders and presses a light kiss to the crown of her head, the way she always did for everyone else.
He focuses on the feeling of her side rising and falling softly with each breath until he slips into slumber.
-
The ceremony was truly beautiful, Camilla thinks. The moment the crown was placed upon her brother’s head, the gold accentuating the brilliant blond of his hair, she wept.
It was the first time she had cried openly. Leo wraps an arm around her as support and she leans against him as she dabs delicately at her eyes with Leo’s offered handkerchief. Small hands clasp around her free one and she smiles down at Elise sweetly, murmuring her thanks.
The throne room is filled along the sides with nobles and royals, all decked in their finest costumes, in honor of their new king.
Yet, all of them pale in comparison to the Nohrian royal siblings, gleaming in their regalia.
Once crowned, Xander rises from his kneel and his eyes immediately find Camilla’s, lingering on her. He marvels that even in a crowded room, she always shone spectacularly, beauty entirely unmatched.
Camilla had worn a new gown, tailored to perfection for her figure. With every movement, the light reflected off her armored corset and her lustrous cape draped heavily to the floor over her shoulders.
His tunnel vision had lasted long enough and he has to tear his gaze away to face the teeming room, lined with austere nobles along the sides.
He makes the ceremonial vows and speech confidently to his people, promising he will be a peaceful ruler, and to serve them faithfully for all the rest of his days.
The room erupts into applause as Xander turns to look at as many faces as he can. This is the day he had dreamt of, was terrified of, his whole life. There’s so much bright finery adorning the walls and ceiling, he feels blinded.
He catches Camilla’s gaze again, her own attention completely transfixed upon him. His eyes lower to Leo, and then Corrin, and finally, Elise.
Before he realizes, his feet have carried him to meet his siblings. Camilla reaches out a palm and he takes it automatically, fingers curling around each other in a familiar hold. He thinks of the first time they had been able to hold hands. It had been a dark time then, he considers, but they made it through.
Camilla draws closer and murmurs, “Nohr could not ask for a better king.”
And he thinks that next to his siblings, this day doesn’t seem so terrifying after all.
